#but the part I'm at in the fic im working on right now is not even close to the mood im in now 😅
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zyafics-recs · 2 days ago
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reblogging comment review from @zyafics
too obsessed with this series to stop (i also think it's so hilarious this started as a oneshot request 😭) ur brain just couldn't stop ⬇️
It was a burden you bore silently, the weight of protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.
GIGI WROTE HER FOR ME
There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream. You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.
god i love ur writing i swear this fic gets better with a new update
“They chew up people like you.” “I’ve been chewed up by worse.”
oooo reader 1: rafe 0 she ate him up
"Change of plans."Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing ominously in the small space. 
why was this so clever (also rafe's obsession w locking people in rooms 😭)
So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him. Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before dashing out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time. 
i honestly would've sat in my room n draw or smth
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Were you getting mugged?
with no money 😭
His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”
hes so kinky (do it)
“Show me.”“Uh?”He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”
i just realized why ur writing is so magnetic; it's because u write almost like a screenplay, like i can visually see all of ur scenes played out on a show or a movie or something; especially your dialogues like it belongs in hollywood
“Atta girl.”
pls sir, just one chance 🛐
“They’re about you.”"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you. Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."Your brows pulled together, “What is?”He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”
oh my GODDDD
These were dangerous waters. If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right. 
im giggling so hard rn
“Tell me stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.
he's so whiny i love him
“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”
i'm so quiet during this smut scene bc im enjoying it too much
He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.
he's so hot ohmyfuckinggod
He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips. The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.
back to our regular scheduled program: emotions
"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."“But it’s wrong.”“I know, pretty.”
they r so enemies to lovers u did this so well
"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”“Promise?”He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.“Promise.”
i love them so much i could cry
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
FINAL THOUGHTS | god this smut scene was TOO good i gotta say ur best work to DATE 🤭 okay, okay, but onto the real business. i think what i love about this part (i think this has to be my favorite part by far) is that, like i said, ur writing plays out like a movie. the way you describe things with such beautiful prose and the way their dialogues bounce off each other. i always compliment your dialogues because it's so true, i am in absolute love with the way it feels so rich and organic and unpredictable (not in a bad way). like there's a conventional storytelling to certain scenes/dialogues but you always manage to surpass expectations and make it innovative and engaging! i fucking love how you build the intimacy through rafe and reader through touch and little acts where you have to read between the lines to understand. and when i get them? 🫠 reader is so independent and stands on her own shit which i love and it reminds me a little too much like me (who said that) but overall, for this specific part, i was obsessed with their banter during the gun scene, and during the smut (of course) but just truly, the way you WRITE it's so so incredible. i'm trying to find better words to explain myself. i love how rafe was yearning for her so badly during the smut, but he backed off bc she said so, and kept asking for clarity and she gave it. it gave me butterflies fr (u saw how quiet i was during that whole scene i barely annotated) and i love the way he kept praising her (blushing fr 🥰) because ur dirty talk is TOP TIER!!! and lastly lastly, the way their fears is embedded in things changing and how they have to confront this new reality of them falling for each other 💘
THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"
WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;
word count: 7.9k...
part i; part ii; part iv
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Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin. With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.
You learned early on to rely only on yourself. While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages. You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into this situation.
You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible. It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group. Kie, Pope, John B…They weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a delicate balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.
At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence. You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in a turbulent life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.
Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst. It was a burden you bore silently, the weight of protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.
You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity. While others your age worried about trivial matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without. 
You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending storm in his eyes. You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream. You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.
So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it. 
He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not going.”
You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”
Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, and for a moment, he looked like he might’ve backed down. But then his expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.
"It's for your own good," he said, his tone condescending. "You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."
"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”
Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.
"It’s my life on the line too,” you said, your voice low and steady. "And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”
His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”
"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”
“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”
The defiance in your fixed look mirrored his own stubbornness. Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.
“This isn’t a game,” he said, his voice tight with frustration. “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”
“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”
He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair. 
“They chew up people like you.”
 “I’ve been chewed up by worse.”
He knew that. For a moment it looked like he might’ve argued. And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty. 
“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”
You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”
He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”
You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.
"Wait."
You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.
"What now?"
His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”
"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.
"Change of plans."
Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing ominously in the small space. 
"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, fury and panic mixing in your chest. "Let me out! You can't do this!"
His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”
"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no response from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing. He was gone, the stupid bastard.
You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.
You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.
In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different. Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning. 
You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, its frame sturdy and dependable.
That’s it! You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.
And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.
It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances. Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was sturdy enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building. 
Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building, the ground looming ever closer with each passing moment. 
Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel. 
You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations.
"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, your voice urgent, “It’s important.”
After a moment of hesitation, he relented, quickly scribbling down an address on a piece of paper and thrusting it into your hand.
"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”
So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him. Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before dashing out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time. 
You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand, a feeling of unease gnawing at the pit of your stomach. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.
The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline surging in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?
"Let go of me!" you shout, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”
With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a brief moment. You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you!”
“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”
He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.
You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"
"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra. 
"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.
"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, his agitation palpable in the confined space of the alley. “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"
“So? Give me yours!”
Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?
“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”
His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”
You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”
“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp, his frustration evident. “You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”
“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”
Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”
Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm, his touch firm.
“Show me.”
“Uh?”
He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”
The sudden shifts in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.
“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”
You only gaped in disbelief. “What?!”
“I said point it at me,” he repeated, his tone firm, “C’mon.”
You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at Rafe’s chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.
“Good,” Rafe said, nodding in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”
“What the hell?! Rafe?!”
“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”
Your breath caught in your throat.
Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?
But Rafe’s expression remained steady, unwavering. Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, now? “I’m not pulling the trigger.”
“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”
With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.
Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”
You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him. You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you. 
“Try again.”
This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.
“Atta girl.”
“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”
“I know,” Rafe conceded, his voice softening slightly as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck.  “I panicked, okay?”
You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go. 
“Okay.”
"Let's go.”
“Wait, right now?”
“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”
⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚⋆ ✧・゚: *✧・゚
Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, the weight of what just transpired settling heavily on your shoulders, as you and Rafe sat in silence, the events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.
"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."
Rafe nodded solemnly; his expression unreadable. "Yeah.”
"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."
“Hey, look at me,” he said, voice weirdly soft, “We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”
You wanted to believe him.
Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”
He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”
You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere. There were more important matters at hand. 
You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives. 
God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.
The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream. You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.
What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you. 
And then there was Rafe. The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.
“You good, Maybank?”
You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully. 
"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”
He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt, a stark contrast to the chaos that seemed to constantly surround him.
“I don’t know.”
He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t. You nodded, a lump forming in your throat. It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.
“They’re about you.”
"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you. 
Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."
Your brows pulled together, “What is?”
He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”
You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?" 
He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”
Oh. 
You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you. It was a lot to process, the realization that you had become a part of his nightmares, a constant haunting presence in his thoughts. Rafe’s fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and a rush of memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you. 
“You should’ve told me before.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. But as it lingered, a strange sense of comfort washed over you, like a balm soothing an old wound. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.
"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin. 
You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."
His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it. 
You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up. It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears. 
Once again, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions coursing between you. Guilt, fear, desire, all intertwined in a tumultuous dance within your heart.
You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you felt deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. And you melted into his embrace, your bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead. All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe. 
But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.
“We shouldn’t…” you mumbled, your voice barely audible over the beating of your heart.
Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch lingering like a promise of things left unsaid.
“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”
You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee. When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating. 
You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead. Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.” 
You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security. 
“Night, pretty Maybank.”
You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making. 
You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”
“Sorry.”
Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”
“I can’t sleep.”
Rafe's hand tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"
You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”
It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again, “Turn around.”
You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him, face twisting into confusion.
“What?”
Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”
With a soft sigh, you shifted, turning onto your side to face away from him.
Rafe moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like a shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin. 
“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
These were dangerous waters. If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right. 
Your pulse quickened, and your skin tingled. An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you shifted again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.
Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.
His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.
His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse with purpose, “’M right here.”
With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head. Rafe's response was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches that sent shivers down your spine. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.
“Tell me stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.
You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.
You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”
You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"
You swallowed hard, the weight of his question settling over you. The uncertainty, the fear, and the desire all came down together in a chaotic swirl. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted. You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."
You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire coursing through your veins.
One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.
“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit. You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss. You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”
You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts blurring as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”
“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”
Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.
The rhythm he set was maddening, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Rafe's breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.
He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”
“Ra—You’re gonna make me cum,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”
“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.
At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm. 
“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”
His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised, his voice a rough whisper. “Want to feel you cum around my fingers.”
His words sent you spiraling, the buzz building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.
“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your core. Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.
Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he gently withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.
The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.
“Fuck,” you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”
“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky and all rough against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”
He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length. Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven. The friction was maddening, each movement sending volumes of satisfaction through you.
Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he struggled for control. “You feel so good,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “So perfect.”
“Oh my god,” you sigh, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”
With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.
“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”
Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much to bear. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.
He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in. His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.
You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again rapidly. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.
“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”
He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts, driving you closer to the edge.
You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.
“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”
You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so close. His hand on your clit moved in time with his hips, each touch sending you spiraling higher.
“I can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.
“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Cum for me, baby. I want to feel you.”
You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”
Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan in response, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him. 
Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You trying to kill me, pretty Maybank?”
You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”
Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix. Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn of desire ignited into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.
“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.
You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch. You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.
A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole. The taste of him filled your mouth, a heady mixture of the cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours. The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.
You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.
“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”
You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.
“Oh god, Rafe, I’m so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.
“Cum for me, pretty,” he urged his voice rough and filled with need. “I want to feel you cum all over my cock.”
That was all it took. With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe and desire, his hands never leaving your body, grounding you through your orgasm. As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips soft and tender. He murmured soothing words, his voice a sexy whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own racing pulse, a reminder of the connection between you. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth. 
But as the waves subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.
"Rafe," you called, "I want to feel you cum inside me."
His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass, "Watch your fucking mouth.”
The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.
Rafe's eyes snapped open, dark and intense as he watched your reaction. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."
You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.
You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His hands roamed over your body, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.
"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel you cum."
The pet name did it. His response was immediate. With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.
The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he drove into you with a powerful thrust. His pace was relentless, his movements fueled by a desperate need to reach his release. His face was a mask of intense concentration, his jaw clenched as he pounded into you. The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, creating a symphony of raw passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.
"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."
You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Cum for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”
His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."
"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."
With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising. And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.
He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.
You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. your own body still buzzing with the aftermath of your pleasure. When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that rendered you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss, his touch kind and reverent.
He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips. The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.
Tears welled up in your eyes as Rafe's lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss a stark contrast to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but the dam broke, and a sob escaped your lips.
He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"
You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”
Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed his voice a comforting balm to your frayed nerves. "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."
You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the gentle strength of his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you didn’t feel so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else. He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up fear and anxiety.
"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”
Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering in a gesture of reassurance. "I know, Maybank," he whispered, his voice steady and unwavering. "I’m scared too.”
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?" you asked, almost in disbelief.
He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.
"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."
“But it’s wrong.”
“I know, pretty.”
He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.
“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”
He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”
You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. The comfort of his embrace, his steady presence, was grounding you. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you strength. After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. 
"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”
“Promise?”
He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly. Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.
“Promise.”
765 notes · View notes
darlingdaisyfarm · 17 hours ago
Text
₊˚ʚ Rain in the woods (Ford Pines x fem!reader) ₊˚✧ ゚.
part 2
author note: hey friends, so im sorry for taking so long, i wanted to post it this Saturday but i got lots of work, it's not proofread so I'm so so so sorry for any mistakes, i promise ill fix them a bit later!
also im working on some pre portal stan x reader x ford fic and it's filled with what we love the most - glass and angst (smut included!!), i know i always say it, but im so excited to share it with you guys <3
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nsfw, minors dni
Stanford Pines — the enigmatic genius who’s always just beyond your reach, a mind so vast, it feels like trying to grasp the stars. You should be focused, but your gaze keeps flicking back to him. You’re utterly captivated, heart racing, mind spinning.
And then it happens. One moment, you're holding the mug, your fingers curled around it and the next it slips. No! The mug tumbles from your grasp, its ceramic form hitting the floor with a sharp, brutal crack that echoes through the room. You watch in helpless horror as it shatters into a thousand pieces, each fragment piercing the silence like a blade through your chest.
Your heart skips, thundering in your ears, and your face goes hot with embarrassment, an awful flush spreading across your skin as you turn your wide, panicked eyes toward Ford. His gaze meets yours, a mix of surprise and concern, but it’s his calm that gets you. 
“Oh shit—” your voice cracks and you curse yourself silently, mortified. Of course, you would screw up right now, in front of him. Stanford fucking Pines, the man whose brilliance makes your own thoughts feel clumsy, an intellectual giant, and here you are, tripping over a damn mug. The pieces of it seem to scatter in slow motion, like a dream you can’t wake up from. You’re so stupid. You feel so stupid.
“I’m sorry— I'm so sorry,” you ramble, desperate to somehow undo the mess, your hands trembling at your sides. You want to sink into the floor, disappear, fade away. How could you be this careless?
But then Ford takes a step forward, and everything inside you freezes. His eyes are soft, so much softer than you expected, softer than anyone else’s gaze ever could be. He’s not angry, not even irritated. Instead, he’s. . . calm. “Hey, it’s alright,” he says, a chuckle escaping him, as though the whole situation is laughable, as though you’re not standing there, mortified in front of him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve dealt with worse. Trust me.”
For one second, everything really seems to slow down as his words sinks into you like a balm. You believe him. It’s impossible to not. He’s seen everything and here you are, worrying over a broken mug.
“Im really sorry,” you stammer again, caught off guard by the softness in his tone, the tenderness in his gaze. What did you expect? That he’d scold you, dismiss you? But no. He’s calm, like this minor catastrophe is nothing. As if nothing could rattle him, as if you, standing there like a fool, didn’t matter at all.
Stanford laughs. “You know, after all I’ve been through, interdimensional beasts, curses, that damn triangle demon, a shattered mug would be nothing. So don’t apologize.” his eyes meet yours. “Im not made of glass. It takes more than a broken cup to rattle me.”
And then his voice lowers with that quiet authority. “Sit down,” he commands softly. “I’ll handle this. Don’t want you getting hurt.”
You can’t help it. His voice sounds so low, commanding, yet laced with something so tender it makes your skin tingle. The words come easy from his lips, but when they’re aimed at you, they tear through you. They make you feel like you’re something precious, something to be cared for, protected. But more than that, a part of you craves to be held by him, right now, right in this moment. To be pressed back into the cushions of the sofa, feeling the strength of his arms, making you feel like you’re the only one in his world.
You’re not just obeying his words, you’re aching to obey. 
That’s why without thinking, you sink into the soft cushions. And shit, there he is — bending down, his bare chest covered with scars still glistening from the rain, droplets make you ache. They fucking shimmer on his skin, taunting you, daring you to touch him, taste him, make him yours. Every inch of him is fucking perfect. God, how are you even supposed to think straight when he looks like that? Your body is screaming for him, for his touch, for everything. 
You try to look away. You can’t. His broad shoulders, his strong fucking arms, his hard chest. It’s too much. He’s a fucking masterpiece and all you want is for him to paint you in ways you can’t even process yet. Your body betrays you, again, that warmth spreading low in your belly, growing. You cross your legs, trying to hide the desperate need that’s already pooling between them. Fuck, how are you supposed to calm this down? It only gets worse.
He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and it’s all laid out in front of you, impossible to ignore. His every movement is so natural, so fucking sexy, it makes your pulse race. You just know he can make you feel things you didn’t even know your body was capable of.
You’re trying to calm yourself, really, you are. 
You cross and uncross your legs again, desperate to release some of the tension building between your thighs, but it only makes it worse. Fuck, why is this so hard? Every thought you have is consumed with him, with what he could do to you, what he should do to you. And the more you try to control it, the more your body betrays you.
You need to touch yourself, but you’re stuck, just waiting, consumed by the need for him.
And then, the thoughts take over completely.
You’re delusional to the point where you feel his hands on your legs, parting them, spreading you wide. You imagine him on his knees, lowering his head, his lips tracing the inside of your thighs, so fucking gentle, so goddamn slow, as he watches you with those eyes, sharp, hungry, possessive. And then, he presses his tongue to your clit, licks you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, making you whine for him.
You bite down on your lip, trying to hold it back, but it’s impossible. You need him. You want him between your legs, fucking you so deep you can’t think straight, making you beg for it. Fuck, what would he say? “That’s it, baby. . . just like that… good girl, taking what I give you. . .” the words seeping into your skin like a drug you can’t quit.
You bite down hard on your lip, desperate to keep quiet, but your body is louder than you’ll ever be. Fuck, your body’s soaking through, your pussy throbbing for his touch, and all you can do is stare at him, mesmerised. His body is a goddamn work of art, and you want to trace every inch of it, feel it on top of you, pushing inside you, taking you.
It’s so fucking embarrassing, but you can’t stop it. Your body’s so ready for him, for his hands, for his cock. You can almost taste him, can almost feel his cock sliding inside you, filling you so nice.
Fuck, any writer of erotic novels would envy your imagination. The thought of him getting rough with you, pushing you down into the cushions, fucking you into the sofa until you can’t think, can’t breathe. “You’re mine now, sweetheart. Mine to fuck whenever I want. You belong to me.”
The thought of him pounding into you, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer, makes you want to lose your mind. You just want to hear him growl your name as he fucks you like you’re the only thing that matters.
And you know you’ll let him. Let him claim you, take you apart, until you’re nothing but a mess of pleasure, a good girl begging for more.
“Hey,” Ford’s voice drags you back into reality, unwantedly. Your heart stutters in your chest as you blink, trying to focus on anything other than the way your body’s still burning, aching for him. He’s looking at you, brows furrowed, the concern on his face so fucking intense it almost makes you want to tell him everything you’re feeling, right here, right now. But you can’t. God, you can’t. Not when the way he looks at you like that.
“Are you alright? You don’t look too well.” his voice is full of worry, but there’s that edge of guilt creeping in as he mutters, “I really should’ve checked the forecast before dragging you out in this mess. . . feels like a bit of a fool for that.” his fingers are rubbing the back of his neck in that shy way he does, that little sign of guilt that makes your stomach clench in a way that’s too much to handle.
But it’s his fucking proximity that’s driving you wild. He’s so close now, standing there shirtless, looking like some goddamn wet dream come to life. You can’t focus on anything but his body, the way the rainwater trails down his skin, glistening so beautifully. Fucking fuck. 
“No, Ford, im absolutely okay, I swear—”
“Hold still,” Ford commands and that’s when you feel his hand so damn warm against your forehead, sending a shockwave of need straight through you. His touch is too fucking soft and yet it feels like it’s scorching you. Or maybe it’s just the fact that you’re so goddamn horny your body’s reacting to the smallest contact.
You try to calm yourself, try to act normal, but it’s too fucking hard. You force a weak smile. “I told you, I— I’m fine,” you answer, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. It’s all you can do to not let the truth slip. You want to scream it, how much you need him, how much you ache for him right now, but you don’t. Not yet. Never probably.
Ford’s brows knit tighter together and his eyes lock onto yours. He’s not fooled, not for a second. “You’re lying. Don’t try to brush it off. If you’re not feeling well, you need to tell me.”
The urge to confess everything is unbearable. You want to tell him you’re not sick, you’re just fucking drenched in need, that’s all! Aching for him to pull you into his arms, to kiss you until you can’t breathe. But instead, you do the only thing you can do: you force a nervous laugh, a weak attempt to play it off.
“No, I swear I’m fine! I could go on a thousand more anomaly hunts with you!” the words spill out with a little too much enthusiasm, a little too much frenzy and you pray to whatever god is listening that it’s enough to get him off your case.
Ford’s eyes narrow and he crosses his arms, still towering over you, still so close
Man, just step back or I'll pounce on you and eat you.
“Cold rain can do a lot more damage than you think. You could’ve caught something serious, and ignoring it won’t help. Do you have any idea how quickly a fever can develop if you’re already run down?”
Oh no, his voice shifts into that familiar, lecturing tone, the kind that makes you want to both roll your eyes and lean in closer to hear more. 
When he says something about cold exposure affecting the immune system, you should be paying attention. You try to focus on his words, but it’s hard when he’s standing there — half naked, with his chest on full display, his messy hair slightly wet from the rain. God, he's just so fucking handsome. The serious, worried look in his eyes makes you weak and you can’t help but sink a little deeper into the sofa.
Just as Ford’s lecture hits a peak, the door swings open with a loud bang and Stanley Pines strolls in, halting mid-step as his eyes zero in on the scene before him. Ford, half-naked, standing too close for comfort, and you, perched on the sofa with that nervous smile plastered across your face.
Stan’s grin stretches wide, clearly loving the situation as he leans casually against the doorway. His eyes flick between you and Ford, then he gives Ford an exaggerated once-over, raising an eyebrow at his lack of turtleneck. “Well, ain’t this cozy,” he drawls sarcastically, giving a smirk that only widens when he spots Ford’s obvious discomfort. “Ya know, Sixer, when I said ‘show the girl a good time,’ I didn’t mean literally strip down to do it.”
Ford’s eyes snap toward his brother, his mouth twitching in a way that’s almost a grimace. His posture straightens, arms crossing defensively as he glares at Stan. “Stanley, really? Must you always reduce everything to your level? She dropped a mug and I was helping her avoid a mess. You wouldn’t understand, but maybe try acting your age for once.”
“Hey, all I’m sayin’ is, if ya plan on gettin' cozy, maybe take it to a couch that ain’t mine.” Stanley’s gaze slides over to you, flashing a wink. “But if you’re lookin' for company, darlin’, I’m more than happy to—“
Before you can let the awkwardness spread more, you spring into the conversation, desperate to steer it somewhere less humiliating. “Stan, actually, Ford was just helping me to—” you force a friendly smile, trying to make light of the situation.
Stan laughs like he’s heard it all before. “Sure thing, toots. But between you and me. . . you’re doin’ a hell of a job of keepin’ my brother here on his toes. Haven’t seen him all riled up like this since. . . well, ever.” your heart thump so loudly in your chest, you’re sure everyone can hear it.
Ford’s jaw clenches so tight, you can practically hear his teeth grinding, but he doesn’t look away from Stan. The vein in his neck starts to twitch.God, it’s almost painful how much he wants to just end this conversation, end this moment, and pull you somewhere private, somewhere safe, where he can have you all to himself, but he doesn’t. “Stan, enough. We have an anomaly to inspect. Something I’d actually prefer not to delay any longer.”
Stan lets out a low whistle, clearly enjoying every second of Ford’s discomfort. “Yeah, yeah. Go on, Sixer, run off to your little projects. Just don’t forget there’s a real world out here, alright?” he gives you a quick nod, still smirking. “and you, don’t let him lock you in his lab too long, sweetheart.”
***
Grumpy Ford. The kind of irritated, scowling Ford you never realized you’d find so irresistibly enticing. That brooding frustration, that laser-sharp focus, you can’t help but imagine all that intensity turned on you, directed into every inch of your body.
God, if he just shoved you back onto that workbench right now, you’d let him. You wouldn’t care if his precious equipment went crashing to the floor, wouldn’t even flinch at the thought of papers and tools scattering everywhere. All you want is him, his body pinning you down, hands gripping you like you’re the anomaly he’s desperate to dissect, figure out, devour. 
Holy shit, you want him to push you up against that wall, pin you down until you’re writhing underneath him, his body grinding against yours, every bit of that frustration poured right into you.
Slick heat building between your thighs as you watch him, the way he moves around his lab, muttering in frustration as he punches numbers into some device, brows knitted in that fierce focus. And all you can do is want his hands on your hips, his mouth on your neck, his cock driving into you like you’re all he’s thinking about.
“The rain seems to have masked the anomaly’s energy signature. I suspect it might be due to ionization in the— are you even listening?”
His voice snaps you back, he’s tearing right through your flimsy attempts at focus with that intense gaze of his, as if seeing everything you’re thinking. You offer him a small, sheepish smile. “Of course I am! Gravity, paranormal. . . s-signatures, right?” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your eyes keep drifting over his body, your ache throbbing inside, thighs pressing together as he stands there, so close you could reach out, slip your fingers through the fabric of his clothes, feel the warmth of his skin.
Ford’s gaze follows yours, his expression changes as he considers whether to answer. “That’s a thought-reading device. Designed to access certain mental frequencies,” he explains, stepping closer to it and closer to you. “It can pick up surface thoughts. . . theoretically, anyway. I was working on it before I. . . uhm, it’s meant to strengthen and protect someone’s mental processes. Block out. . . certain entities from gaining access to their mind.”
Ford lets out a soft, exasperated sigh. “Honestly, you’re as distractible as Stan.” 
He turns away, but your eyes don’t leave him. Instead, you let your gaze slide over the room, until something catches your eye. A strange, helmet-like device bristling with wires and so, without thinking, you ask, “Hey, what’s that thing?”
A mind-protective device. Of course, he’d build something like that. It’s so him, his beautiful mix of intellect, caution, that underlying fear of what he’s seen, what he’s had to fight.
“So, it could let me peek into that brilliant mind of yours?” it’s a playful a tease, mostly. But inside you just ache to know, to wonder, to feel his thoughts. Would he think about you. even once, in the same filthy, breathless way you think about him?
Stanford grins. “In theory, yes, but it’s hardly necessary. My mind is. . . complex, too complicated for most people to understand."
And then, suddenly, unexpectedly, Ford lifts the machine, his grin is bigger. “Why don’t you try it on?”
Your heart slams against your chest and panic sears through you, cutting under your carefully held composure. Oh god. No. No, no, no. Every filthy thought, every desperate image of him, of those long, deft fingers tracing down your skin, of his mouth, his hands, of him pinning you down and splitting you open on his cock, of moaning his name until you can’t breathe. All of it, laid bare, displayed for him to see? 
You choke down the crazy urge to run, instead forcing yourself to laugh. “Why, Professor Pines, are you doubting my integrity?” you counter, flashing him a daring smirk, praying it’s enough to distract him from the heat that’s burning its way up your cheeks.
Ford chuckles in response. “Integrity?” he repeats, his tone mocking. “No. But curiosity? Oh, absolutely. I think it would be enlightening to see what actually goes on behind that amused little expression of yours.”
“There’s nothing interesting in my mind,” but your words barely sound convincing to you, let alone to him.
Ford tilts his head, arching his brow in that all-too-familiar, skeptical way that makes you want to simultaneously squirm and melt. “Oh really? You know, most people would be thrilled to test out new technology. But you. . . you’re avoiding it like it’s some kind of torture device.”
“Oh, yeah, you know,” a poor attempt at casual. “I just. . . don’t wanna risk, you know, brain cells or something.” you resist the urge to roll your eyes. God, please just buy it. . . 
Ford’s laughter rumbles and by the look on his face, you know he doesn’t quite believe you. But, mercifully, he lets it slide. “Alright, alright,” he relents. “I’ll spare you. This time.”
***
The rest of the evening is a haze of Ford’s intense meticulous rambling as you both sit tucked away in the quiet of his lab, soft lamp light casting warm shadows that stretch over the various gadgets, books, and uncharted maps sprawled out on every available surface, his domain, the world he’s always losing himself in.
He’s explaining again, his words so precise about the anomaly you saw earlier today. His voice rises with each detail, the way the rain altered it, how it vanished before either of you could even think to grab it. You should be focused, but his beautiful voice turns into a lullaby. Your eyelids grow heavy, your body sinking deeper into the chair. 
And Ford notices.
The way your head tilts too far, your eyes fluttering closed just a little too long. He’s not as lost in his thoughts as he likes to think. His gaze sharpens, flicking to you with that careful, assessing precision he’s always had. He sees that quiet exhaustion in the way your posture slumps, the way your breath catches unevenly as your body fights against the pull of sleep.
His voice softens. “You’re exhausted,” he murmurs. “Of course you are. . . It’s too late. Go, get some rest. This. . . all of this will still be here tomorrow.”
A sigh tries to escape your chest before you can stop it. You want to protest, to stay longer, to pass just little bit more time with him. But the way he looks at you makes the words die before they can leave your lips. There's something unspoken in his eyes, a quiet concern mixed with that stubborn, unyielding sense of responsibility.
You try to stifle a yawn, your hand reaches out, fingers brushing the fabric of his sleeve, as if the touch might change his mind. “Maybe. . . maybe just a bit longer?” however even your own voice sounds tired.
His answer is gentle but final. “No. You need to sleep. I’ll be here, as always.”
You don’t argue. When you step away, you catch one last glimpse of him, standing amidst the piles of notebooks, the soft light casting shadows along the lines of his face, catching the silver in his hair in a way that’s so painfully beautiful so you let yourself stay a little longer before you close the door.
***
The silence that reigns in the room after you leave feels like a huge, endless void that stretches to all corners of the laboratory and suffocates in its stillness. Ford exhales slowly, a sigh caught between frustration and something deeper he can’t quite name. His gaze lingers on the door, where you disappeared through just moments ago, soft sound of your footsteps still echoing in his mind. God, he’s such a fool, he thinks, fingers pressing to the bridge of his nose, rubbing at the ache that’s been building inside him ever since you spoke those soft words, just a little longer.
He couldn’t stop it, couldn’t ignore it. The way you leaned in, hanging onto his every word, as if he were something more than he really was, something beyond the man who hides behind his work, behind his mind. The weight of your trust presses on him and with it comes the unbearable pressure of knowing he doesn’t deserve it.
And God, he tries to keep himself restrained. He tells himself that this is madness, that you’re too young, that every second he spends watching you, wanting you, is a betrayal of everything he’s tried to build.
But you’re gone now and his lab feels emptier than ever. Even as he reaches for his journal, his thoughts are still tangled with you, with the way you looked at him, the way your sleepy eyes followed his every move, the way you seemed to hang on to every word, every breath he took. Did you even realise what you were doing to him?
And as he opens his journal, he knows there will be no more notes on anomalies tonight. No theories, nothing but the restless, fevered words he can never, ever say aloud. Ford knows that if these thoughts ever slipped past his lips, they’d destroy you. You’d never look at him the same again. And he can’t lose you. He couldn’t bear to watch that disgust fill your eyes, that revulsion as you saw him for what he truly is: a man with a heart full of shame, but aching for you all the same.
He writes with a fever, the words coming too quickly for him to even think them through. He’s confessing things he’ll never have the courage to say to you. The way you make him ache, how wrong it feels, how unnatural it is to want you this way. You’re so young, so vibrant, so full of life. How could someone like him, an old man, a man of logic and reason, ever think he could want someone like you?
And yet, it’s all he can think about. It’s all he does think about.
God help him, he wants you.
Stanford’s hand trembles as he writes fast.
“The way she seems to lean closer with every word I speak, as if I’m some kind of god to her. I can’t breathe when she’s near, but I can’t stand being away from her either.”
He’s sickened by it, disgusted by the way his hands ache for you, by how his thoughts run into places he can’t control. But even so, he thinks, I can’t stop. I can’t stop wanting you.
“If only she knew what I was dreaming about, how I want to erase all layers of distance between us. I want to melt into her, touch every inch of her skin, as if she was made to belong to me, only to me.“
Ford can’t let you know how deeply he feels, how far he’s fallen for someone like you, someone so out of reach, someone who might never look at him the way he looks at you. Because if he did, if he let those words slip from his lips it would ruin you. It would break you.
And he can’t do that.
Not to you.
So, he writes. He writes because it’s the only way he can make sense of the mess inside of him. The only way he can be close to you without breaking everything.
“God, if she knew, she'd never see me as anything but the perverted old man I am.”
“God help me. . . I want her breathless. I want her shaking, clinging to me as I bury myself inside her, feeling every inch of her wrap around me like she was made for this. I want her to be mine. The years between us be damned—”
One sentence, scribbled with shaking hands: “if she knew how much I want to make her come on my cock while explaining the fundamental laws of interdimensional, she’d never look at me same way again”
“I want her shaking, spent, marked by me, by the man twice her age who should know better but can’t help himself.”
“I picture teaching her how to harness interdimensional energy, but my mind twists it, images shifting until it’s my body pressed to hers, whispering “concentrate sweetheart,” while I trust into her from behind. Her breath would stutter as I correct her technique with my hands on her hips.”
“I shouldnt crave her, not with the years that separates us like an unyielding chasm. Yet when she laughs, carefree and obvious, I imagine making her cry my name, hands guiding her hips as I thrust inside up into her, showing her exactly what an older man can do. Showing her why age doesn’t matter when she’s trembling and breathless beneath me.”
“She's got no idea, does she? I want her bent over my desk, books and notes scattered beneath her, while I thrust into her like some animal in heat, filling her over and over until there's nothing left of her but soft, pleading sounds and the way her body pulls me back in with every move. I’d guide her, make her feel exactly what it means to be touched by a man who’s twice her age and twice as obsessed.”
Meanwhile, now, alone in your room, you’re haunted by the memory of your lovely scientist, pulsing between your legs, leaving a needy ache that’s impossible to ignore. Just thinking about him, the strong lines of his hands, those six fingers that could make you see stars. . . it all sends a jolt straight through your body and suddenly, you’re melting, undone, utterly helpless to this craving for him.
You let yourself fall back into your bed, eyes closed, his presence wrapping around you like a ghost you can’t shake off. You can’t even catch a steady breath now, the dampness pooling between your thighs, every inch of you begging to be touched — not by yourself, no. You need him, his skilled, explorative touch, those six clever fingers. The memory of every stolen glance, every careful brush of his hand, it all coils up inside, a slow, delicious torment, and now it’s throbbing there, heavy with need.
You drag your fingers down the length of your body, tracing where his hands might go as you imagine him, his fingers slipping lower, finding that sweet, drenched ache and grazing it with a delicate touch that he’d know so damn well. 'Fuck,' you’d gasp, his name like a prayer on your lips as his six fingers roam, rough and relentless, pressing right against that needy opening, filling you up until you’re nothing but breathless whimpers and cries for more.
“God, sweetheart,” you hear his voice, “I’ve wanted this for so damn long. Do you feel that? How hard you make me?” and then he’d press his cock between your legs, hot veins throbbing against your entrance, and you can feel his breath on your neck as he tells you what a beautiful mess you’ve become for him.
Your fingertips brush over your clit as you imagine his hand there, gentle but insistent, exploring you with that scientist's curiosity, his six fingers pressing slow, circling that sensitive bud, coaxing soft gasps from your lips. “Let me feel you. Take it slow, sweetheart. Let me make you mine.” but even as you touch yourself now, imagining his fingers in place of yours, it’s still not enough
You arch from own hand, fingers gliding through the wetness now slick and ready, you press a little harder on your clit, circling it faster, imagining the way his hands would dig into your skin, his strong arms wrapped around you as he thrusts into you, “take it all, darling. Every inch of me.”
And by some lucky chance, Ford stands outside your door, his pulse slamming hard against his ribs, a wreck of a man just clinging to sanity. The sound of you — all gasping, breathy moans slipping through the thin wood, whispering his name in that desperate little voice — he can’t help himself as his hand flies up to the doorframe, his fingers digging in so hard they’re going white, knuckles taut, trying to keep himself together. 
But the universe is laughing at him, at his pathetic attempt at control, at the sheer uselessness of his restraint, because fuck, every gasp you make sinks its teeth into him.
Something hot runs through him, then it sinks low, thickening in his chest, then spreads down between his legs. His cock twitches, rock-hard and aching, straining against the fabric, pressing hard, begging for the attention he keeps denying it. He shouldn’t be here — hell, he should be miles away by now, somewhere that isn’t two inches from falling apart at the sound of you! But he’s not. He’s a goddamn mess, held hostage to the way you’re sighing his name.
“Fuck, sweetheart. . .” he’s going insane out here.
Ford knows how you look right now, imagined it thousands of times, laid out on your bed with those soft thighs parted, hands trailing down, fingertips grazing over warm, damp skin, teasing yourself open, getting yourself wet just for him. Fuck, he thinks, I shouldn’t be this fucking desperate.
Ford lets his hand slip down, pressing hard against the hardness straining in his trousers, feeling himself throb against his own palm. There’s no relief, just that painful, growing ache that has him grinding his teeth, biting back the low, broken sound that wants to rip free from his throat. He’s a man undone, ruined just by the thought of you, the image of you with your legs open, your body calling out for him like he’s the only one you need.
“Jesus, fuck. . .” his free hand reaches down, trembling as he slides it beneath his waistband, wrapping around the throbbing heat of his cock, feeling himself swell, hard and pulsing against his palm. It’s wrong, so wrong to be here, touching himself to the sound of your little whimpers, but fuck if he can stop.
The sounds coming from your room grow louder and it’s too much for him. He’s already so fucking close as he imagines himself on top of you, sinking inside you, feeling your cunt wrapped tight and hot around him, your body arching, your hands clawing at his back, those delicate fingers pulling him close, begging him not to stop. 
Ford’s back collides with the lab door as he stumbles in, chest heaving, adrenaline of hearing his name on your lips. He locks the door behind him.
Fumbling hands tug at his belt, fingers clumsy, impatient, tearing at the fabric as it’s the only thing standing between him and relief. Finally, the belt slides free, and he wraps a shaky hand around his cock, swallowing down a low hiss as the raw heat of his own skin meets his grip. 
He strokes himself roughly and desperately, letting his thumb graze the sensitive tip with a ragged groan that he’s helpless to contain. His mind runs further, and he pictures you, perfect and pliant, sinking to your knees before him with eyes so innocent, with lips parting as you take him into your mouth. As you let him fuck your throat.
A shiver runs through him and he leans his head back, sighing, groaning and grunting louder as he loses himself in the fantasy. God, if you only knew. If you could see him like that, a desperate moaning and trembling mess with his hand wrapped around his leaking cock. 
“Ahh— ffuck,” hell, just how much he wants to hear you make those sounds too, moan for him, he wants to feel you beneath him, warm and soft, clinging to him, legs tangled around his waist as he sinks into you. His strokes become faster. Ford imagines pressing you down onto the lab table, your dripping pussy welcoming him as he thrusts deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper until there’s no part of you he hasn’t claimed. His breath hitches, hips bucking into his hand as he imagines the way your walls would tighten around him, clenching, pulling him in. 
He’s shaking now, barely able to hold himself together, his free hand clutches at the edge of the workbench, knuckles white, as he lets himself sink fully into the fantasy. You’d look so damn perfect spread out for him. Ford’s hand moves faster, tighter, fueled by the image of you writhing beneath him, helpless, pleading, so sweet and open, absolutely his, his beautiful girl, sweetest thing. 
The pressure building until he can’t take it anymore. His hips jerk, a loud needy moan spilling from his lips as he cums, his body shuddering with release. For a few long, breathless seconds, everything fades: his mind, his shame, everything but the overwhelming, blinding wave of pleasure.
***
The morning breaks, a new day arriving, one that promises to be spent with Ford close by— and, isn’t that something to look forward to?
When you meet Stanford, the first thing you hear is, “Did you not learn anything from last time?“
You bite your lip to keep from laughing, but before you can protest, Ford is stepping closer, his coat swishing around him as he moves. The wool of his scarf unravels with practiced ease, and in a smooth motion, it’s over your shoulders, the warmth of it spreads around your neck. You want to say something, but all you can focus on is the way Ford’s thumb traces the edge of the scarf, his touch so delicate it feels too intimate for something so simple.
This shouldn’t feel like it does, you think, but your body screaming what your mind refuses to admit.
“There,” Ford says, stepping back. “You’ll thank me later.”
“I thought you checked the forecast this time,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “Isn’t today supposed to be sunny?”
Ford crosses his arms with a smile. “Yes, well. . . One can never be too cautious. After all, last time—“
“—last time, I nearly froze my ass off,” you finish, the laughter bubbling up between you and Ford shoots you a look that’s equal parts exasperated and fond, like he’s about to scold you but can’t help himself.
“I wasn’t going to put it quite so crudely,” he says, but that reluctant chuckle escapes him before he can hide it.
When the sun climbs higher, the forest around you changes in hues of gold, the leaves thinning just enough to let the light filter through in soft rays. You walk side by side, close enough to hear the rhythmic crunch of your footsteps in the fallen leaves and Ford’s murmured observations, but it’s all you can do not to lose yourself in him. His words float past, about terrain, weather, anomalies and predictions, but your mind doesn’t follow, not when your eyes keep straying to him.
You can’t help but wonder if there’s any room left for you in his head, if he ever thinks about anything other than those damned anomalies. A piece of you wants to shake him, to pull him from his thoughts, to remind him that life is more than equations and mathematics. But, god, there’s something so cute about him when he’s like this, so fully consumed by his world, and you can’t look away.
“You’re thinking about something,” Stanford starts, pulling you out of your trance. “Is it the anomaly, or. . .?”
“Just wondering what it is we’re actually tracking. I mean, last time it disappeared before we could even get a good look, so. . . what’s the plan if it shows up again?”
Ford’s face lights up with approval at your question. “It’s an elusive creature, no doubt,” and again, his voice slips into that familiar lecture tone, one you’ve learned to love despite yourself. “But this time, I have a better understanding of its behaviour. The rain threw it off last time, but if my theory is correct, today’s dry weather should keep it on course! And if we can corner it near the ravine, there’s a chance we might get a clear reading on its—”
“Ford,” you interrupt, he stops talking, his brow lifting slightly. “I mean, yes— corner it near the ravine,” you repeat. Wait, what did you just say? 
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Ford asks, smiling at you. “If you’re still tired from yesterday, I can handle this on my own.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes, crossing your arms as you look at him defiantly. "Oh, please. I said I could do this a thousand times over with you and still keep up,” you challenge.
He laughs again and his laughter is so damn cute. “That, I don’t doubt.”
Time pass and as you walk beside Ford, your mind drifts, you're not really thinking about the anomaly or the hunt anymore. No, your thoughts are elsewhere. Again. Somewhere they shouldn’t be, but there they are. You can’t help but notice the way the sun highlights the strands of silver in Ford's hair, the curve of his shoulders as he walks, his posture so effortlessly confident and strong. And you think about how much you liked the way his body looked in the rain yesterday, when the wetness clung to his clothes and made every line stand out even more. 
You sigh inwardly, watching him from the corner of your eye. The weather, as perfect as it is, only makes you feel a bit wistful. Why did it have to be sunny today? You had been hoping for more rain. The kind of rain that soaked him through and made his clothes cling to his skin, the droplets tracing the curves of his chest. That was a sight you’d never forget. But today sun is too bright, too cheerful.
The soft breeze brushes your hair against your face, and you snap out of your thoughts just as you see the clearing ahead. Ford slows his pace, his gaze scanning the area with his usual calculated precision. And just as yesterday, air here feels different, as if charged. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the unease settling in. This is it, the spot where the anomaly was last seen. But, of course, there's nothing. The clearing is quiet, calm, completely empty.
Ford steps forward, looking around with a frown, muttering something under his breath. You stand there for a moment, waiting, listening to the wind rustle through the branches and the distant call of a bird. But there's nothing. 
“Where is it?” you ask and Ford turns to you, his expression calm but with that familiar hint of worry in his eyes, the kind that usually only surfaces when he’s feeling frustrated. 
“Don’t worry,” he says, though his voice sounds more like he’s trying to reassure himself than you. He straightens up, adjusting his glasses. “The anomaly will show itself. We’ve got all day to catch it.” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck.
All day with Ford? 
Your heart skips a beat and you have to fight to keep your expression neutral. What could be better than spending the entire day with him, just the two of you in this quiet, secluded place? No distractions, just you and Ford, and the anomaly that might never show up.
It takes a little more time while you and Ford are waiting for the anomaly to appear and so, a dialogue ensues.
“I’ve seen some more strange things. In all my years of research, there have been anomalies of all shapes and sizes. Creatures from dimensions we can’t even begin to understand. Some are harmless, just curious things that wander around, never meaning to cause harm. Others. . . Others are far more dangerous. I've seen creatures that could tear through steel without breaking a sweat. Their behavior is— well, unpredictable.”
“What about the really dangerous ones?”
“There's one anomaly, one creature that I’ve encountered that still haunts me, to this day.” he looks away for a moment, as if weighing the decision to tell you more. “a beast unlike any other. Its skin is like iron, nearly impenetrable. And its mind is relentless. It doesn’t think like us. It doesn’t have the ability to reason, only the ability to kill and survive.”
Wow, you already can see it in your mind — a massive, hulking creature, covered in jagged, metallic plates, its eyes wild with an animalistic hunger.
“And you’ve seen it?”
Ford nods slowly. “Yes, once. And it wasn’t an experience I care to repeat.” and then he calls you by your name. “Listen, if we encounter anything dangerous, you stay behind me. Don’t try to be a hero, don’t try to ‘help out.’ I’ve trained for this. I know these creatures; I know their instincts and behaviours. You. . . you don’t. It’s crucial that you follow my lead.”
“I’m not helpless, you know,” you mumble, folding your arms. “I can handle myself.”
But Ford only smirks, oh how cute you are. “And if you ever find yourself lost between dimensions, the key is to stay calm. Panicking is a surefire way to make yourself vulnerable. Reality in those places doesn’t play by the same rules. Your mind can trick you, distort what you’re seeing” 
You stare at him, a mixture of awe and confusion washing over you. “Well, thanks, Ford, for the guide on how to travel through dimensions and fight the monsters that live in them.”
“Years of experience. Sometimes the hard way. But you don’t need to worry about that, alright? Just stick close, keep your wits about you, and we’ll make it out just fine.” he smiles.
“Easy for you to say,” you mutter, your gaze dropping to the forest floor. “You’re. . . you’re Stanford Pines. You’re used to dealing with this kind of thing. Me? I’d probably end up wandering off into some other dimension if I so much as blink wrong.”
He chuckles softly, and you feel his hand gently rest on your shoulder. “That’s why I’m here. To make sure you don’t.”
You open your mouth to respond, but then— crack. A twig snaps somewhere in the trees to your left. The sound is sharp, distinct, echoing through the quiet forest.
Your heart skips a beat and you instinctively grip Ford’s arm, eyes widening. He tenses, immediately going on alert as his gaze darts toward the source of the noise. “Stay behind me.”
You swallow, nodding as you press yourself close to him. Ford moves slowly, keeping himself between you and the sound, his shoulders squared, every muscle tense and ready.
Another rustle, this time from the other side. You bite your lip, feeling the cold prickling sensation of fear clawing up your spine. This doesn’t sound like a bunny, not in the slightest.
The sounds grow louder, surrounding you both. Ford’s posture tightens, his gaze focused and determined, while you hover close behind him, whatever lurks in the shadows isn’t friendly, and Ford, as always, stands ready to protect you at any cost.
Suddenly, Ford raises a hand, signaling for you to stay still. One. . . two. . . three—
A small, furry creature darts out of the bushes, a pudgy raccoon, more plump and inquisitive than fearsome. It scampers out, blinking innocently at you both and you feel sigh with a relief.
You slip out from behind Ford, who’s still standing rigidly, eyeing the raccoon with disbelief. “Well, would you look at that,” you say, glancing up at him with a slight grin. “Our terrifying forest intruder was just looking for a snack, huh?”
“Don’t get too close,” Stanford warns, still frowning. “These things are rarely alone.”
You laugh softly, crouching down and letting the raccoon sniff at your hand. “Oh, come on, Ford. You really think this little guy is hiding—”
The words die in your throat as you catch the look on his face, his eyes wide with sudden horror, mouth open as he shouts, “behind you!” and you whip around just in time to see something that makes your heart freeze, a hulking mass with matted fur and claws like daggers, looming in the shadows. Its eyes flash like yellow lanterns and a rank smell hits you, earthy and rotten all at once. You barely manage a step back before it lets out a furious roar, its maw wide enough to fit a head and then some. The sound is so loud it rattles through you and a splatter of spit flies from its jaws, landing on your clothes. You go stock-still.
“Th-that’s. . .” you stammer, but Ford’s voice interrupts you, calm and steady despite the chaos.
“Stay calm. It’s eyesight’s weak, but sound-sensitive. Just— slowly step back.”
You barely have time to take in his words before the beast’s head snaps toward you again, snarling with an intensity that shakes the trees. Immediately, Ford pulls out his gun, aiming directly at the creature, he fires off a round that echoes through the forest, hitting the beast and it lets out a howl of pain that sends birds scattering from the treetops. But it’s still very much alive, and now it looks angry, furiously angry. The monster's gaze is fixed on Ford with a vengeful glare, and he rushes towards him with a blood-curdling growl.
Ford stands firm, taking careful aim as he readies to fire again. But just as he steadies his grip, a branch underfoot shifts, making him stumble. The gun slips from his hand, landing somewhere in the tangle of roots and leaves and suddenly, he’s weaponless, the monster mere feet away.
Panic flares in your chest as you see the creature, claws poised, ready to strike. Ford scrambles back, but it’s too close, and something snaps inside you. Without thinking, you dart forward, adrenaline flooding through you and you grab a thick branch from the ground. With a yell that’s as much out of fear as it is determination, you swing it at the creature with everything you have, landing a blow that momentarily distracts it from Ford.
But that monster retaliates, slashing out in a blind fury and suddenly you feel the sting of claws raking across your leg. Pain flares sharp and hot, but you grit your teeth, ignoring it, keeping yourself steady enough to stay upright.
Ford seizes the moment, his eyes flashing with a mix of fury and fear as he snatches his gun from the ground, turning back to the creature. His voice is hoarse but resolute, “what are you doing?” he shouts irritably, calling your name again. “I told you to listen to me!”
With a final, controlled shot, he fires, the bullet hitting its mark. The monster lets out an agonized cry, staggering back before it turns and lumbers off into the dense woods, its snarl fading into the distance.
The adrenaline ebbs, leaving you and Ford alone in the sudden silence. His gaze finds yours, mad and worried all at once, his hand reaching out to steady you as your breathing finally starts to slow.
Ford’s face twists with frustration, jaw clenched tight and when he speaks, his voice is seething with barely controlled anger. “What the hell were you thinking?” he snaps. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed, charging in like that! I told you to stay back!”
You swallow, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks, not out of embarrassment or fear, but because, god, he’s hot when he’s angry, with that fire in his eyes and his tone like a damn storm. You force yourself to stay upright, despite the dull ache pulsing in your leg. “Ford, it’s fine. I just wanted to—”
But he’s already looking at you, really looking, his gaze flicking from your face to the way you’re leaning on your uninjured leg. “You’re hurt,” his tone dips from anger to something softer and worried. “Damn it, I should’ve never brought you out here. I’m such an idiot—“
“No, Ford, it’s just a little—” you try to brush him off, waving your hand dismissively, but as you shift your weight, a sharp bolt of pain shoots through your leg. You bite back a wince, forcing a smile. “Just a scratch, really.”
“Don’t even think about hiding this from me,” Ford turns annoyed and dead serious again, he steps closer as he assesses you, and there’s something really fierce in the way he insists, “Let me take a look. Now.”
For a moment, you think about arguing. But the pain flares again and you realise there's no winning against that look in his eyes. With a sigh, you give in, nodding reluctantly as you show him your new wound, from where the blood has already soaked into the fabric, turning it dark red.
Ford’s face changes instantly. “Damn it,” his hand hovers uncertainly like he wants to reach out, to touch, but doesn’t quite know where to begin. “This is— this isn’t just a scratch.”
His fingers finally settle gently around your calf, supporting you, his touch unexpectedly gentle as he examines the wound. You can feel his pulse under his fingertips, it’s obvious he’s anxious, and for a second, he doesn’t look like the Ford who always has the answers.
“This was my fault, I shouldn’t have— damn it, I should’ve kept you safe.”
***
The journey back to the shack feels agonizingly silent. Ford has one arm around your waist, nearly carrying you as you limp along, every step makes the wound throb in your leg. The sting, the ache, it’s all mingling with a sick sense of regret. You feel it settling in your chest. The whole day had been a disaster. You both went out to catch that anomaly, that one lead he was so excited about. . . and instead, you ended up facing something brutal. The monster had nearly killed you both.
Ford hasn’t spoken a word since the forest and with each passing second, it gnaws at you more. The thought appears in your mind, he must regret it. Bringing you along, letting you be there, yeah. . . he’s mad and not in the way you find hot. He’s distant, still supporting you, guiding you with a firm hand, but it’s as though he’s somewhere else entirely.
When you finally make it to the Shack, you find it blessedly empty. No Stan’s loud jokes or questions to break the heavy silence between you. Ford helps you to walk, still wordless and the whole way, you’re trying to find something to say. Some excuse, some apology, but every time you look over at him, you just see that grim look and you stop yourself.
Inside, he lets you sit on the couch. You clear your throat, forcing yourself to speak, to try to lift that heavy cloud around you. “Ford, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for things to go that way. I didn’t mean to—”
But Ford cuts you off. “No, don’t apologize. It’s my fault. I should never have let you come along, I put you in danger.”
That serious tone. . . You nod, saying nothing more and after a beat of silence, you get up slowly, mumbling something about heading to your room. Ford doesn’t stop you, and he watches you go, still worried as fuck, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s rooted there, expression tight as he watches you limp down the hall.
When you get to your room, you close the door softly behind you, but the pain in your leg has started pulsing heavier, sharper, demanding your attention. You look down and finally decide, you’re going to check it, even if just to prove to yourself that Ford’s look wasn’t warranted, that maybe you’re not as bad as he seemed to think.
You settle on the edge of your bed, carefully and slowly taking your pants off, but as you pull the fabric, the sight that greets you isn’t reassuring in the slightest. The cut on your thigh is deep, seeping a fresh, dark line of blood that’s begun to smear against your skin. “Fuck. . .” you curse, tilting your head to get a better look, your fingers hovering over the edges of the wound. Just as you’re mentally preparing to find the first aid kit, a familiar voice cuts through the silence.
“No, please, just— let me help still. I won’t be calm until I—”
In the midst of your concentration, you hear the faintest creak of the door, and before you can even react, it opens. 
You barely have a moment to react, still sitting on the edge of your bed, the bloody gash on full display as Ford steps inside, eyes widening as he looks at you. He freezes and for a moment, you both just stare at each other in silence. You’re sitting there in your panties and a t-shirt, and you don’t know if to be happy or not, realising how exposed you must look. Ford’s gaze flickers to your bare legs, to the wound on your inner thigh.
You cross your legs in shock and embarrassment. “Ford, what—” you start, but he quickly raises a hand, cutting you off.
“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to—“ Ford approaches, he kneels beside the bed, looking up into your eyes. “I— I can’t just leave you like this,” he pleads. “Please. . . let me help.”
“Ford—“
Ford’s hands hover over your leg. “You need to stop the bleeding, disinfect it, make sure it doesn’t get infected. It’s going to hurt, but, I can help. I’ll be gentle. Just let me. . . please.”
His eyes search yours, a quiet desperation in them that seems to say more than just his words ever could. Ford may be brilliant when it comes to the unknown, but in moments like this, when it’s you that’s hurt, he’s lost, even if he tries to sounds smart. He doesn’t want to mess this up, doesn’t want to fail you.
Slowly, you nod, the vulnerability in his gaze too much for you to ignore.
“Alright,” you whisper. “but be careful, okay?”
130 notes · View notes
perexcri · 1 year ago
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happy one year to her and one of my better opening lines for a fic <3
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now, because i'm curious:
32 notes · View notes
ibrokeeverything · 1 year ago
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hELP
The gay pirates have taken over my brain. Like, I was already super excited for season two before today, but ever since the trailer came out, I'm completely incapable of thinking about anything else.
So now I'm stuck listening to because the night and rotating the babygirls in my head like a microwave
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simplygojo · 2 months ago
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Gettin' A Full Service
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a/n: Y'all I'm so sorry im nothin but a nasty dog bc no way this is 4.3k 💀. ANYWHO this smutty fic idea came to me when seeing the art used as the cover for this by @actuallyvalerie (original art is linked here), I just couldn't help myself from writing this...heh. Hope you enjoy!
Requests are open! Please read the Request Guidelines before submitting a request <33
Pairing: Mechanic!Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
Word Count: 4.3k (im a nasty dog y'all...)
Warnings: 18+ content, SMUT!, oral (f receiving), intercourse, choking, pet names, mndi
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^^ art by @actuallyvalerie
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The low rumble of engines filled the air as you stepped into the garage, the familiar scents of motor oil and gasoline swirling around you. Your heartbeat quickened the moment you caught sight of him—Toji Fushiguro. 
He was bent over the hood of his car, focused on something behind the propped-up hood.
The muscles in his broad back flexed as he worked, his white tank top clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. His strong arms glistened with a light sheen of sweat, smudged with streaks of oil that only added to the raw masculinity he exuded. 
A dark smear ran along his sharp jawline, the grease contrasting with his striking, rugged features. The late afternoon sun filters through the wide windows of Toji’s garage, casting long shadows across the floor as you lean against the doorframe, watching him work. 
His muscles flexed as he tightened a bolt with practiced ease. His black hair falls into his eyes, and he grunts, annoyed, pushing it back with his forearm before continuing.
You can’t help but smile at the sight. Toji, focused and in his element, and it was really turning you on…
The way he concentrated on the task at hand, brow furrowed and lips slightly parted as he grunted with effort, was enough to send heat coursing through you. Each twist of the wrench, every subtle shift of his frame, seemed to radiate raw masculinity, igniting a spark of desire deep within you.
Your pulse quickened, and you felt a warmth pooling in your core, drawn in by the mix of confidence and sheer masculinity he exuded.
Toji, sensing your gaze, glances over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You gonna stand there all day or actually say something?” His voice is teasing, rough around the edges, but there’s that familiar smirk tugging at his lips, the one that makes your heart skip a beat.
You push off the doorframe and walk over, hands in your pockets, pretending to study the car (like you gave a damn) as if you understand half of what he’s doing. 
“Just admiring the view,” you reply with a grin, leaning against the workbench. “You sure know how to make fixing a car look… good.”
Toji snorts, wiping the grease from his hands onto a rag before tossing it aside. “Yeah? Well, don’t get used to it. Not many people get a free show.”
You roll your eyes at his usual bravado but can’t deny that there’s something captivating about him. He straightens up, towering over you with that smug grin still firmly in place. “What, you just came here to stare?”
You shrug, deciding to play along. “Maybe. Can’t blame me, right? You’re good at what you do.”
His smirk widens, and he steps closer, towering over you now. There’s an intensity in his gaze, but it’s softened by the playful glint in his eyes. “You saying I should charge for it?”
You laugh, lightly shoving him. “Please, you’d drive everyone away with that attitude.”
He chuckles, leaning back against the car, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Probably. But you’re still here, so I must be doing something right.”
You look up at him, biting back a smile. “Guess I’m the lucky one, huh?”
Toji’s eyes narrow playfully, but there’s a warmth in his gaze that wasn’t there before. “Damn right.”
The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the garage filling the space once again. 
After a moment, you speak again, your voice softer. “Need any help?”
Toji glances at you, the corner of his mouth twitching. “You offering?”
You shrug, moving closer to inspect the tools scattered on the workbench. “Maybe. I’m not exactly a mechanic, but I can hold a wrench.”
He snorts, amused, and hands you a tool.
“Don’t hurt yourself. That’s my job.”
You take it, rolling your eyes at his comment. But as you stand next to him, following his instructions and working together on the car, there’s a quiet contentment in the air. 
You grip the wrench, watching Toji’s hands as he guides yours to the right bolt. His touch is firm, steady, sparking a heat between your thighs. His body is so close to yours that you felt the warmth radiating off him. 
You try to focus on the task at hand, but with Toji standing over you, the subtle scent of engine oil mixed with his cologne makes your heart race, and it's hard to concentrate.
"Like this?" You ask, adjusting the wrench in your hand, trying to distract yourself from your dirty thoughts.
Toji’s lips twitch into a smirk as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.
"Tighten it, don’t baby it, baby." 
You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. You give the wrench another turn, putting more effort into it this time.
"There. Happy?" You ask, looking up at him.
Toji’s gaze flickers down to meet yours, and for a moment, the air between you seems to thicken. 
His eyes darken, a hint of something playful yet dangerous lurking in them.
He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in even closer, so close you can feel the brush of his arm against yours.
"Not bad," he murmurs, his voice low. His big arms reached over you and tightened the bolt even more, just showing off his strength. "Maybe you’re not as useless around here as I thought."
You narrow your eyes at him, though there’s no real annoyance in your expression. "Oh, please. I’m the best help you’ve ever had."
Toji’s grin widens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Big words for someone who didn’t even know where the wrench was five minutes ago."
You open your mouth to retort, but before you can, he reaches past you to grab another tool, his arm brushing against your side. 
He doesn’t move away, staying so close that your shoulders are practically touching. It’s deliberate—you can tell by the smug look on his face.
Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t back down. Instead, you let your own smile grow, deciding to meet his teasing head-on.
"Maybe I don’t know cars, but I know you like showing off. How long did it take you to fix that last engine again? Two hours?"
Toji lets out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying your banter. "Two hours, and it was perfect. Don’t forget that part."
You tilt your head, raising an eyebrow. "Perfect, huh? Or just barely passable?"
He narrows his eyes at you, though there’s a playful edge in his gaze.
"Careful. You’re gonna talk yourself out of a favour if you keep that up."
"Oh? What favour?" you ask, leaning against the car now, your arms crossed, fully enjoying the back-and-forth.
Toji leans down, bringing his face closer to yours, his grin shifting into something more dangerous, more tempting. "The one where I let you stick around here. Don’t think I’ll keep you around for free."
Your breath hitches slightly, but you don’t let it show. Instead, you match his energy, pushing back without missing a beat.
"Oh, so you’re saying I have to work to earn my keep? What’s the price, then? More wrench-holding?"
He chuckles again, the sound deep and rich, vibrating through the air between you. 
His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the teasing fades into something heavier, something that lingers in the charged space between your bodies. 
He’s close enough now that you can see the flecks of green in his eyes, close enough that you can feel the warmth rolling off him.
"Nah," Toji says, his voice dropping an octave, turning more serious but still holding that playful tone.
"I’ve got enough wrenches. I’m thinkin’ of something a little more… personal."
You can feel your pulse quicken, but you don’t look away. "Oh? Like what?"
He leans in, just barely brushing his lips against your ear.
"Guess you’ll just have to stick around to find out."
For a second, the world seems to slow down, your senses overwhelmed by the proximity of him, the way his voice sends shivers down your spine. 
But before you can say anything, Toji pulls back, the smirk returning to his face as he casually grabs another tool and turns back to the car, as if nothing just happened.
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your heart still pounding in your chest.
Toji always knows exactly how to push your buttons, how to get under your skin in a way that leaves you wanting more.
“Tease,” you mutter under your breath, shaking your head with a smile.
Toji glances over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth quirking up.
“I’m not teasing this time, I’m just busy. Like I said, stick around...”
His voice was low, almost serious, but that playful gleam in his eyes hasn’t faded. 
He gives you a wink, and something about the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.
You open your mouth to reply, but words seem to get stuck in your throat. The way he’s looking at you right now—like you’re the only thing in the room worth paying attention to—makes your pulse quicken. 
The air between you feels heavy, charged with an energy you can’t quite name.
Toji watches your reaction closely, his grin fading into something softer, more intense. He drops the tool he was holding onto the workbench and turns fully toward you, wiping his hands on the rag before tossing it aside.
“You really think I’m just messin’ with you?”
Your breath catches as he steps closer, closing the already small distance between you. His presence is overwhelming—tall, broad, and carrying that rough, irresistible confidence he always seems to have. 
But this time, there’s something else in the way he looks at you, something different. His teasing smirk is gone, replaced by a look that makes your heart race.
“Toji…” you start, but you’re not even sure what you want to say.
He reaches out, his fingers brushing lightly against your chin, tilting your face up so that you’re forced to meet his eyes. The touch is surprisingly gentle, almost tender.
“I’m serious,” he says quietly, his voice low and rough around the edges. “You think I haven’t noticed? The way you look at me, the way you linger around here like you’re waitin’ for something to happen.”
Your cheeks burn at his words, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or anticipation.
Maybe both.
But before you can respond, Toji’s hand slips from your chin, moving to rest against the side of your neck, his thumb brushing against your skin. The touch sends a jolt of electricity through you.
“I’ve been holding back,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse, like he’s been keeping this confession locked away for too long.
The dark, dangerous edge in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. His grip on you tightens slightly, a subtle indication of just how much control he’s been forcing himself to maintain.
You’re painfully aware of how close he is now—his broad frame nearly eclipsing yours, his body radiating a heat that makes it harder to breathe. The faint scents of oil and metal lingers in the air, mixing with something distinctly him. It’s intoxicating.
“M’didn’t wanna push too far, but... maybe I’ve been waitin' for you to give me the green light.” His words hang in the air, a challenge wrapped in velvet. It’s like a line drawn in the sand, daring you to cross it.
Your heart pounds, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Every inch of you is hyper-aware of Toji—the way his hand lingers on your neck, the way his gaze seems to devour you. You want this. God, you want this.
“What if I gave you that green light right now?” The words leave your lips before you can fully process them, but there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing.
For a fleeting moment, Toji’s pupils dilate, his eyes narrowing with something primal, something dangerous. The smirk that spreads across his face is no longer playful—it’s predatory.
“Then I wouldn’t waste any more time.”
Before you can draw another breath, his mouth crashes down on yours, and it’s like a dam breaking—everything he’s been holding back unleashed in one searing, possessive kiss.
His hands move from your throat to your waist, pulling you against him so fiercely that your feet nearly leave the ground.
There’s nothing gentle about the way he kisses you. His lips are demanding, rough, as if he’s staking a claim.
You can feel the pent-up tension in every movement—the way his teeth graze your lower lip, the way his hands grip your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he loosens his hold.
Your hands move instinctively to his hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands, pulling him even closer.
You match his intensity, giving in to the heat that’s been simmering between you both for far too long. Every brush of his lips, every press of his body against yours ignites a fire low in your belly, making you ache for more.
Toji pulls back for just a moment, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours as he catches his breath. His eyes, hooded and dark, search yours as if looking for any trace of hesitation. But there is none.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” His voice is low, rumbling with barely restrained need.
Your answer comes not in words but in the way you tug him back to you, pressing your lips to his once more, harder this time, as if you’re trying to tell him with your body what your words can’t quite express.
Toji groans softly, the sound vibrating against your mouth as his hands begin to explore, sliding under the hem of your shirt.
His touch is scorching, sending jolts of electricity through your skin. 
There’s an urgency now, a desperation in the way his hands roam your body, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. 
Your back hits the cold metal of his car behind you, the chill momentarily cutting through the heat between you, but it only seems to heighten the tension. 
Toji’s hands are firm on your waist, holding you in place against the cool surface, his body pressed against yours in a way that has your pulse racing.
He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, his eyes smouldering with an intensity that makes your stomach flip. The darkness in his gaze has only grown deeper, and when he speaks, his voice is rough, husky, full of raw need.
“I’ve been patient,” he mutters, his thumb brushing over the sensitive skin just above the waistband of your jeans. “But you don’t want me to hold back anymore, do you?”
The way he says it, the low growl in his voice, sends a wave of heat straight to your throbbing pussy. 
You can only manage a small shake of your head, your throat too tight to form any words.
His lips twist into a smirk, something predatory glinting in his eyes as he steps back just enough to grab you by the waist and hoist you effortlessly onto the hood of the car behind you. 
He quickly unbuttoned your jeans, sliding them off your legs, letting his hands roam your skin.
The cold metal beneath you contrasts sharply with the warmth of his body as he steps between your legs, spreading them open with a firm grip on your thighs.
“You’ve been teasing me, y’know that?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hands trace the outline of your hips, fingers brushing the edge of your panties.
“You comin’ in here wearing these tight jeans, given’ me those looks.”
Before you can respond, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and, with one sharp tug, the fabric tears apart in his hands. 
The sound of it—quick and final—echoes in the small garage, and the cool air hits your skin, making you gasp.
Toji’s eyes darken as he looks down at you, his gaze hungry and unrestrained. He licks his lips, the smirk from earlier gone, replaced with something far more serious.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his hands sliding up your inner thighs, rough fingers brushing the sensitive skin as he leans down, bringing his face closer to your dripping cunt. His breath ghosts over your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Such a pretty sight.”
He pauses for a second, his thumb brushing dangerously close to your center, teasing, but not yet giving you the touch you desperately need. You squeeze your eyes shut, your head falling back with pleasure.  
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do this.”
Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he lets his thumb slide over your slick folds, testing your reaction, watching the way your body responds under his touch. The anticipation, the raw hunger in his gaze, it’s all too much, and you let out a desperate moan. 
Your breath hitches as Toji's thumb slides teasingly through your folds, his touch both rough and deliberate.
You try to bite back the groan threatening to escape your lips, but the way his eyes flicker up to meet yours tells you he notices everything.
“Don’t hold back now,” he rasps, his voice gravelly, sending shivers down your spine.
“I wanna hear every pretty sound you make.”
Before you can react, he dips his head between your thighs, and the warmth of his breath against your sensitive skin makes your body tremble. His hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you in place, as his tongue traces a slow, agonizing path over your slick heat.
Your gasp echoes through the garage, head falling back against the hood of his car as pleasure surges through you. 
You feel Toji’s lips curl into a smirk against you, clearly enjoying the way your body reacts to his touch. 
He doesn’t hold back—his tongue flicks, swirls, and sucks, each movement precise and calculated, as though he’s savouring every moment of this.
“Fuck, Toji—” you gasp, your hands instinctively flying to his hair, tugging at the dark strands as the heat builds inside you.
Toji growls in response, the vibrations of his voice against your pussy sending waves of pleasure through you, making your thighs shake. 
He dives in deeper, his mouth working relentlessly, tasting every inch of you, each flick of his tongue pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
The sensation is overwhelming—his lips, his tongue, the way his fingers dig into your thighs, holding you open for him, like you’re his to devour. 
It’s too much and not enough all at once. Every brush of his mouth over your clit sends electricity shooting through your body, and leaves you whining for more.
Your hips buck instinctively, seeking more, needing more of the pleasure he’s giving you.
Toji chuckles, dark and amused, his voice muffled as he continues to work you with his mouth. “So needy,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet against your heated skin. “I like that.”
It’s like he knows exactly how to unravel you, like he’s been waiting for this moment, studying you, learning your body, just so he could do this—just so he could make you fall apart beneath him.
“Toji—m' gonna cum,” you choke out, your voice barely a whisper, but he knows what you need. 
He speeds up, his mouth and fingers working in tandem, the relentless pace driving you higher and higher, until the world falls away and all that’s left is him, his touch, and the pleasure that crashes over you in waves.
You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, your thighs clamping around his head as your body shakes with the intensity of it. 
But Toji doesn't let up, continuing to lap at you, drawing out your pleasure until you're trembling from the aftershocks.
Finally, he pulls back, his lips and chin glistening as he looks up at you with a satisfied grin, eyes dark with lust. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth, standing back up, towering over you once again.
“Come here, pretty girl,” he rasps, his voice a low growl that sends another wave of heat through your body.
Before you can catch your breath, his large hand slides behind your neck, gripping it firmly, but not harshly. 
He lifts you from your position on the car, pulling you up until you’re sitting in front of him, your legs dangling off the edge of the hood. His hand lingers at your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the rapid beat of your heart.
Your body is still humming with the afterglow of your orgasm, but when you glance down and see Toji’s other hand move to the waistband of his pants, your breath hitches again. 
He keeps his eyes locked on yours as he unbuttons them slowly, deliberately, the tension between you thickening once more.
Toji's eyes gleamed with that dark hunger as his grip on your neck tightened just a fraction, enough to remind you who was in control. His free hand moved to the back of your thigh, pulling you forward on the car until you could feel the heat of him between your legs.
“Look at you,” he growled, his voice low and rough as his hand caressed the curve of your hip, dragging you closer to him.
“So pretty, all spread out for me.”
Your breath caught as you felt the tip of him brush against your entrance, your entire body already aching for him, needing more. You leaned into his grip on your neck, your pulse racing beneath his fingers as you whispered,
“Please, Toji…”
He chuckled darkly at the desperation in your voice, his grin widening as he pressed himself just a little harder against you, teasing you.
“Please what, baby? You gotta use your words.”
You squirmed under his grip, your body screaming for more contact, for him to stop teasing.
“God Toji—I want y’to fuck me,” you said in frustration, your voice barely audible as your body begged for him.
“Good girl.” His voice was a low, approving growl as he finally lined himself up with you, his voice sent another wave of heat to your aching pussy. Without another word, he pulled you forward, thrusting into you in one swift motion.
The sudden stretch had you gasping, eyes wide as your walls adjusted to his size, the feeling of him filling you completely was overwhelming.
Toji groaned, his grip on your neck tightening as he stilled inside you, savouring the feeling for just a moment. You grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his eyes locked on yours as each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body.
Your hands instinctively reached for him, fingers tangling in his dark hair as you clung to him, every nerve in your body on fire. Toji’s lips curled into a smug grin at the way you responded to him, the way your body seemed to melt under his touch.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He rasped, his breath hot against your ear as he leaned in closer while maintaining his rough pace. His grip on your neck shifted to pull your head back slightly. 
“Tell me how good it feels.”
“It’s so good,” you moaned, your voice trembling as he began to pick up the pace, the force of his thrusts making the car creak beneath you. 
Every movement pushed you higher, the pressure building inside you all over again as Toji took you apart piece by piece.
Toji’s pace became relentless, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, and your body was a live wire, every nerve tingling under his touch. The pressure inside you built impossibly fast, the pleasure coiling tight in your core, threatening to snap.
“Toji—" you whimpered, barely able to form words as he drove into you, your body quivering beneath him. 
Hot tears pricked at your eyes from the overstimulation you felt—never ever had anyone fucked you like this.
He groaned at the sound of your voice, his lips brushing against your ear.
"That’s it, pretty girl. Cum f’me," he rasped, his hand tightening around your neck just enough to send a thrill through you.
The roughness of his voice, the commanding way he held you—it pushed you over the edge. 
Your body tensed, the world spinning as your orgasm ripped through you with a force that left you gasping, your walls clenching tightly around him as wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your veins.
You cried out his name followed by a pornographic moan, legs trembling, your nails digging into his shoulders as you rode the intensity of it, your whole body shaking as the pleasure overtook you. 
Toji’s hand slipped from your neck, sliding down to your waist as he kept moving, working you through the aftershocks as your body convulsed beneath him.
“There you go,” he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction, his hips slowing as he watched the way you writhed under him, completely lost in the ecstasy he’d given you.
Panting and spent, your body collapsed back against the car, your chest heaving as the last waves of your orgasm rolled through you.
Toji’s eyes gleamed with pride as he pulled out, his hands still possessively resting on your hips.
"You look so damn pretty when you cum," he murmured, leaning down to press a rough kiss against your lips, your body still tingling from the intensity of it all.
You were utterly spent, trembling in the aftermath, but as Toji’s lips curled into that familiar smirk, you knew...
He wasn’t done with you yet.
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biteyoubiteme · 12 days ago
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black cherry flavored
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ot5 txt x fem!reader
synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again?
warnings: 🔞!!! gangbang, mentions of drinking, getting scared, fearplay? reader gets chased through house and doesnt know who it is, knifeplay (only used to cut off underwear), clit play, mean dom moments, filming during sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f!), creampie(s), marking, subspace, fingering, oral (m! rec), hair pulling!, overstim (f!rec), she/her used prob forgot some
wc: 9.2k (this one got away from me)
an: this is not proofread at all im so so so sorry forgive me sweet angel ily but I cannot believe october is over and this event has come to an end ;-; I hope you guys like this one! im a HUGE horror movie fan so I was excited to do this and hopefully it turned out well. I went with a different approach for a scream fic that was kinda based on different aspects from the movies and I hope you like it! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]
this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the rest of the fics! [dumdum m.list]
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"whats your favorite scary movie?"
You roll your eyes, hand coming up to cover the screen of your laptop. “Aren't you supposed to be doing your own work not pestering me about mine?” 
It was late in the night, the library dead silent besides the hum of the heater and faint typing on stiff keyboards. The door to the study space was cracked just enough to hear the elevator if it dinged, the indicator the floor would soon be closing for the cleaning staff. The clock on the wall told you it was close to one in the morning, only an hour away from the library being cleared and closed.  
“I'm avoiding the rest of my essay,” beomgyu shrugs, clicking his pen as a signal for an end to the line of questioning. “Annoying you just seemed like a better plan,” 
“Annoying all of us, I needed this done an hour ago,” yeonjun doesn't even look up from his laptop, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, lenses glossed over with the light from his screen, fingers speeding over the keys only to pause and jam the delete button. “Fuck, i lost my train of thought,” 
“It's already late, just turn it in tomorrow morning,” huening suggests, slouched back in his chair, thumbs nibbly swiveling on the joystick of his switch. “The syllabus said it was ten points off no matter how late after twelve you submit it,” 
“Don't talk to me right now, you got yours in on time. And I'm getting this done tonight whether I like it or not. I won't be able to handle looking at it tomorrow morning. the paper just won't get turned in at all if that happens,” yeonjuns back to typing furiously squinting at his laptop not noticing kais grin. 
“You should have listened to me about meeting up at nine, but nooo-” 
“Huening,” yeonjun warns. 
“I'm just saying…” 
Yeonjun picks up one of Soobin's scattered pens from the table, tossing it at Kai hitting him in the lap. And when Kai just laughs, Yeonjun picks up a few more to throw, the showering of pens making Kai yelp. 
“Shhh,” soobin doesn't even lift his head to see what's going on. He and tae had been trying to sleep for the better part of two hours, Taehyun having found success, sliding two chairs together to prop his legs up. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and hasn't said anything since closing them. Soobin only crossed his arms and laid his head down, leg bouncing showing he was still struggling to actually find it in him to sleep without his bed. 
The six of you usually booked the room on Friday nights from nine to two, blocking the time to try and catch up on work before the weekend. It was either the time you got the most work done or none at all. You're surprised it took beomgyu this long to finally turn away from his assignment at this point he's usually at the whiteboard doodling or trying to get everyone to play dirty hangman. 
It was easier to get all of you together here instead of one of your small dorms, the space hardly big enough for three people let alone six. In the library you didn't have to worry about cramming together, the fourth floors study spaces equipped with long tables and eight chairs. Out of the two libraries on campus this one didn't have many people visit often, especially not when the walk from any of the dorms was twice as long. The fourth floor was empty and quiet except for the group's laughter on nights you didn't worry about work. 
“You didn't answer that question,” beomgyu points out again, pointer finger pushing away your hand blocking the screen, “what's your favorite scary movie?” 
“I didn't answer it because I can't choose,” you confess, scrolling through the paper you're writing for class. 
“Is your homework twenty questions?” soobins voice is muffled, annoyed and sleep-ridden. 
“No-” 
beomgyu cuts you off before you could explain, brows scrunching as he reads. “Looks like it, this one is ‘what are the rules around sex’ there is no way this actually for your class,” 
“What?” this pulls soobins head up, the messy strands of his dark hair sticking up around his forehead. 
“Of course you wake up when you hear the word sex,” yeonjun quips, pursing his lips reading over his work on his screen. 
“No need to wake up you type so loud i couldn't fall asleep,” soobin says brushing his long fingers through his hair, you always noticed the later it got the grumpier he became, pouting lips and half lidded eyes always making an appearance after midnight. 
“It's for my film studies class. We’re learning about the rules of horror,” its clarification enough for soobin who nods but beomgyu lets his head tilt to the side, the vision of a question mark. 
“Rules? You can't just send a killer in, have them spill some blood, and call it a day?” 
“You could, but i'm sure it would follow a pattern, even without you realizing it,” scrolling through your work you pause on the first option. “First you have to think about the time period when the movie was filmed. Most of the popular ones ranged from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. A huge push in most cultures is the topics of sex, drugs, and money. It's the three things people try to control the most. Throw a bunch of badly behaving teens in with a psycho killer playing god and you can tell the masses how wrong something is. Like having sex,” 
“So wrong it would get you killed?” 
“Yup, in most, if not all, horror movies the people who have sex on screen or are known for sleeping around get killed off, leaving the poor virgin alive. Main characters who live to the end also don't drink, or do drugs. Rich people aren't safe, especially if you have a big empty house with lots of stairs, doors, and windows. The more for you to make the wrong decision not to exit from,” 
“Then who does live?” Kai asks, game paused in hand. 
“The girl next door lead, never her boyfriend, the camera man, unless you see him leave the group because you should never leave the group under any circumstances. But everyone else is fair game. Oh and if you say ‘i'll be right back,’ the lines a killer in and of itself,” 
“So I'd die because I like to have a good time?” yeonjun asks, fingers paused on his keys as he looks over at you. Everyone but tae is turned in your direction, listening intently. 
“Unless you're the killer, or lucky because you weren't in line of the camera when you decided it was smart enough to leave the house. It's very kill or be killed. Another rule is to never trust anyone,” 
“The list just gets longer and longer,” soobin sits back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he stretches, “you know i saw this one post on twitter that some people like the whole masked killer thing, gets them off,” 
“Of course you would be on twitter looking at stuff like that,” gyu fakes disappointment, shaking his head, “this is exactly why you wouldn't survive, you're a closeted perv,” 
“I don't know about closeted perv, he was openly scrolling past hentai the other day in the dorm,” yeonjun is back to typing, soobin kicking the foot of his chair. 
“Past it, i didn't pause on it,” 
“It was on your for you page! Clearly you have a habit of liking things akin to it,” 
“I don't know, I think it's kinda hot, the mask thing. or i guess more so the build up of fear, it's almost like foreplay, your pulse starts going, you get all flushed. And I did see this clip of these two guys dressed up…” this wouldn't be the first time any of you confessed to watching something that turned you on. All of you had been friends for years, growing up nothing had ever been an off limits topic. You can see the video in your head, the way they held the girl between them; how they manhandled her down onto the bed. 
“So you and soobin are both freaks,” beomgyu grins, the need to tease showing right in his eyes. 
“A threesome is not freaky,” Taehyun states, breaking his silence, hat still over his eyes, fully relaxed and laid back. If you hadn't known the sound of his voice you would have assumed he was still asleep, if he had even been asleep in the first place. 
“Agreed, anything over three is a little freaky,” soobin shrugs, bending over halfway out of his chair to pick up his fallen pens. 
“So would you? Sleep with more than two people at once?” gyu asks, the tilt back to his head, “this is the true test if you're freaky or not,” he chuckles. 
“I mean yeah… would you?” The question is directed at the room and you watch the question lay over them like fog, each of them thinking for a second, blank expressions all the way around.
Taehyun was the first to respond, shrugging his shoulders before nodding briefly, “I wouldn't let the opportunity slip by if it was offered,” It was a unanimous yes from all of them, the hummed agreement not too surprising. 
“Done!” yeonjun smashes one last key before stretching big, “finally fucking submitted, and right before we have to leave, im surprised the staff hasnt gotten around to our room yet to kick us out,”
Taehyun pulls his hat from his face, sitting up with a yawn, “good, i needed my bed two hours ago,” 
It always felt so good to sleep in on a saturday after a study session like this, you could already feel how cozy it would be to wrap up in your blanket. And even if the mattress was shit with or without the foam topper, it was better than laying out in the chairs like taehyun just was.  
All of you cleaned up the space, making sure to tuck in the chairs, pick up the discarded cups of late night bad decision coffee. Squishing in the elevator together, bags bumping into one another before you filed out; passing all the empty desks and empty aisles of books to make it out the front door. 
As soon as the outside air hits your cheeks you know it’s going to feel like a long walk back to the dorms. the boys tucking their ears into hoodies, zipping their jackets up, you and kai lived in the dorms on the opposite side of campus from the rest of them, their walk shorter by only a few minutes. 
“Okay we’re still on for dinner tomorrow right?” Kai asks the group. 
beomgyu’s jumping on the balls of his feet to try to generate some warmth. “literally just text us, I cannot think about tomorrow when i’m this cold and sleepy,”
“Yes, we’re still on, I've been craving anything other than dining hall food for the past week,” yeonjun adds, shivering as he pulls the straps of his bag closer to his chest. “We'll still meet up back here like usual,” he was walking backwards as he said it, already a few steps behind the others, “but see you guys tomorrow or should I say ‘i’ll be right back!’” he jokingly yells while the others wave goodbye. 
“don’t play jjunie, you might be next! don’t trust anyone!” He gives you a silent salute in response as you and Kai head out for your walk. 
Instinctively the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, bumping into one another every other step. Silence following each muffled step on the pavement. Sometimes the two of you didn't say anything until you split on the elevators. a quick ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you tomorrow’ thrown out as you step out on your floor, waving as the doors closed back up so he could go up one more level. Other nights it was the two of you giggling trying to keep it down as you walked under the moonlight, too late to be loud. 
You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the wind hits the treeline. spots of orange light from the spaced out street lights are rare, casting the two of you in darkness every time the moon is behind the clouds; every several feet the hash light is back in your path. 
“So you'd live? In a horror movie?” Kai asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders to his ears from the cold. The wind is hitting him right in the face, tossing his hair from his eyes where he liked to keep it. He asks it so softly, the question highlighted in the divot of his brow, nose pink, face washed in the glow from the moon. 
“I'm not really a virgin so…,” it's not an embarrassing confession but when it's this late with his eyes trained solely on you it's like a spilled glass of red wine on white sheets. Impossible to look away from. 
“You wouldn't live for knowing how people survive?” 
“The smart ones usually die from bad luck, they know to head for the car waiting in the lot but forget the keys or if the keys are still in the ignition they never check the back seat. They know if you run into the woods to escape you can hide, but how unlucky for a rusty forgotten bare trap to be waiting for your next step. or if you miss that one here's a log to trip over, only to tumble down a hill and break your neck. Call the police? You're in the one movie a phone works only for you to forget never trust anyone because the police work for the killer,” 
“So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.
“This isn't a movie kai, we’re fine,” 
“I know, it's only a question,” he's so easily flustered when alone, second guessing everything he says, as if one slip up will make you hate him. Now he's blushing, both of you falling back into comfortable silence. You can tell he's thinking by the way he's biting at his cheek, eyes watching his feet, making sure not to miss one step. You assume it's the end of what he has to say, his silence following you all the way back to your floor. The elevator doors opened finally giving him the courage to speak up. “Do you…” 
“Hum?” you lift your arm to hold the doors open, turned to see him struggling to get the words out. 
“Do you want to come with me to my parents cabin,” he says it all in a rush, avoiding looking you in the eyes just in case you reject him. “I mean you don't have to, the guys won't be there and if it makes you uncomfortable-” he cuts himself off, hand at the back of his neck, trying to rub away his embarrassment, “forget it- forget i said anything,” 
“It's okay, I'd love to go. where is it?” 
“Um it's like two hours from campus, my parents need me to check on it just cause and i thought, why not make a weekend of it? I mean, you can finally sleep on a real mattress, not whatever was issued here,” 
A weekend away did sound good, perfect after the semester you were having. And Kai is as sweet as they come, spending time with him wouldn't be bad at all. “Sure, when are you thinking?” 
“Next week?” 
It was all so very innocent, a sweet boy asking a girl to join him on a weekend getaway. He even packed you snacks for the drive, let you pick all the music, and made sure to carry your bag in when you arrived. 
You weren't stupid enough not to realize why you were here and the other boys didn't get an invite. The whole week you thought it over, pushing around the idea of being with him. And you could tell he was tossing it around all throughout the drive, periodically blushing without saying a thing to you, hands tightening on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white from the pressure. 
Halfway through the drive you realized exactly what he meant by cabin. Not the kind sitting near the edge of a trail, but one hidden deep into the woods for perfect seclusion. Kai had a late class to make up for and the two of you didn't get started on the drive until the sun was already setting behind the trees. Every shadow thrown across the road drew longer and longer as the car kept on. 
The gravel driveway leading up to the cabin was a stretch, but when you finally broke past the winding path the gleaming two story was not very cabin like. The windows reflecting the cars headlights back at you expanded most of the first level. Wraparound porch dotted with chairs, and a swinging bench. As soon as kai killed the engine the silence stumbled in, darkness spilling over the scene as you climbed out of your seat. 
“This place is huge,” you whisper, as if anything louder would disrupt the peace of the outdoors. You held your phone's flash up in front of you, huening fumbling to put the key into the lock on the first try. Each attempt from his shaking hand failed.
“Here,” you took the key into your own hand, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 
“Sorry,” his voice wavering as he flips on the light switch, “i'm just- you know-,” he cuts himself off not wanting any more embarrassment to follow him. 
As soon as the lights come on you can't see anything outside, the windows a reflection of the room. A tv hanging over a huge stone fireplace, welcoming couches spaced out in a semi circle around a wooden coffee table, a bar topped with dusty glasses pushed in the corner. Kai kicks off his shoes by the door, walking further in you notice the dark hallway leading deeper into the first floor, a staircase waiting right by the entrance. But kai ignores it all while walking towards the kitchen. 
“I mostly have to check the doors and windows to make sure no one broke in,” he's trying to fill the silence, rambling to kill his nerves,”one year we had someone steal the tv, we don't really leave much now just incase, so that's why it looks so empty,” 
“People actually drive all the way out here and break in? The last time i saw a turn off the road before this one was an hour ago,” 
“You never know, it's best to just check and fill out a report sooner rather than later,” in the kitchen the backdoor is made of two foggy planes of glass, only the outline of kai seen in the weavering shape. He twists the knob and to your surprise it gives way and opens, “damn one of my sisters must have forgotten to lock it last they were here,” You lean your hip against the kitchen island, taking his explanation as is. 
“They come out here to check too?”
“Rarely they mostly come with their friends but stopped when they realized there is zero phone service this far out,” 
“There isn't?” you hadn't even checked to see if your phone was working, “what if someone had broken in? You have no phone to make a call from,” 
He chuckles pointing past your shoulder, right on the end of the counter a sleek black cordless landline rests in its holder, the blinking red light showing one waiting voicemail. “Sometimes it can be spotty but for the most part its a solid line of communication,” 
Hand still on the knob of the backdoor he locks the door before walking over to the pantry, finding only a crate of dusty wine and a stack of old jiffy pop popcorn. 
“Wait, I didn't think they made these anymore,” you reach out for the thin metal handle attached to the panshapped popcorn container. Shaking it you hear the rattle of the kernels, “when i was younger i thought it was just something people had in movies,” 
“My sisters and i love the stuff, it's also easy to pop outside over the fire,” 
“So all you leave is popcorn and wine when you're not staying here?” you tap the crate of wine with your foot, his grin boyish and shy. 
“It's a good thing for us now i guess,” 
It's what leads you to sharing the bottle, passing it by the neck as he gives you a tour of the house. His lips right at the spout, nerves loosening up with each sip he takes, creaking steps leading up the second floor. “And here is my room,” 
It’s right at the end of the hall, bed neatly made with a single stuffed penguin sitting against the pillows. “You left him here all alone?” You ask, picking up the plushie, Kai's standing in front of the closet, the slatted doors making up most of the wall behind him facing the bed. 
He shrugs placing the half full wine bottle down on his dresser, “someone needed to protect my prize possession,” he falls right onto the mattress, head thrown back, hair spilling against the pillows, “i always sleep so good in this bed,” cheeks flushed from the wine, half lidded eyes watching you from under his lashes. It's an invitation you don't pass up. 
You climb in after him, feeling relaxed from drinking even if it was only a little bit, you can tell it's helped him too, his lazy smile so blissful. “I'm sure this bed is good for other things too,” you don't even care about being bold, not alone with him under you as you dip your head, nose brushing his. 
The first kiss is so soft, a brush of lips together lasting no longer than a second. Kai whines in the back of his throat, an ache for more hidden in the desperate sound. It's addicting to have someone seem so needy for your attention, his legs instinctively tangling with yours, hand at the back of your neck pulling you back down for another kiss.
The two of you fumbling to feel at each other, your hand sliding up under his shirt to touch his warm skin, his stomach flexing at the brush of your cold fingertips. His hand at your waist pulling you closer to him, needing you as close as he can get you. The kiss is sloppy in seconds, his tongue sliding against yours, noses bumping as you breath in each other.  You can feel that he's semi-hard, pressed against your thigh between his legs. 
He's a mess, whimpering when you pull away to take off your sweater, leaving you braless in a tank top. greedy hands back on you, pulling you back down on top of him, he’s grinding onto you desperately, fully hard from only kissing. 
every little noise he makes is caught in your mouth, his fingers fumbling for the button on your jeans. you have to pull away after his failed attempt, giggling as you brush his hair back, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening we have all night,” you remind him, “I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” he's looking up at you with total devotion, with an expression that lets you know he'd let you do anything if you asked. 
“Please?” and it doesn't even matter what he's begging for, you would let him do just about anything in return for looking at you like that. 
You're quick to rid yourself of your pants, falling back to the bed and letting him roll on top of you. Hands in his hair as he presses into you, one hand holding himself up while the other snakes down between you two. The soft gasp you let out eggs him on, drawing soft circles over your clothed clit like he knows exactly what to do. You twist your fingers into his hair, his lips tracing down your neck, hips back to grinding into your thigh. At first you don't notice the smell of popcorn. It's faint upstairs, wafting in through the vents, buttery and warm as kai slips his fingers into you. Your hips rolling on his hand, meeting every thrust, heel of his palm pressed to your clit. 
It isn't until the popcorn starts to burn that you say something, the tang in the air subtle as kai sucks hickeys on your sensitive skin. “Is something on fire?” 
Kai pulls away from the crook of your neck, “what the fuck?” breathing deeply to catch the scent. It's clear in the air now, hanging around like a question. “Stay here,” 
it's so unceremonious when he pulls his hand from your panties, fingers dropping onto his tongue to clear them, “i'll be right back, okay?” 
“O-okay,” you're confused more than anything, knees pulling in feeling overly exposed all of a sudden. It's silent in the house, the soundtrack of your kissing dimmed to nothing, before it's replaced with the creaking of his dissipating steps down the stairs. 
You feel a little foolish sitting in his bed, the crumpled sheets and discarded plushie a reminder that this is not normal for a hook up at all. Letting out a long breath you push out of the bed, all relaxation felt before now gone as you reach for the wine bottle on the dresser. You take a heavy swig from the bottle, needing your courage back. It felt silly to worry over burnt popcorn. 
Your stomach turns, sickening realization settling in. the two of you had only picked up the wine, neither of you even put the jiffy pop close to the stove's burners. You're quick to look for your phone, checking in the pile of your clothes on the floor, and finding nothing. Your bag was by the door downstairs, right next to the shoes, if your phone wasnt up here it was bound to be in your bag. 
You didn't say anything as you made it to the top of the stairs, not until the phone rang. Not the familiar song that came through your speakers but the deft echo of a warning siren. The kind of ringtone that was played in a movie when someone was receiving bad news, and it didn't stop, traveling up the stairs, playing once, twice, until nothing but silence. 
“Huening?” your voice wasn't as strong as you wished, faulting at the end as you took your first step down the stairs. 
No response. 
The last step creaks under your weight, the sound triggering the phone, that chilling ringtone back in the air. All the lights are on, nothing outside the windows visible as you watch your reflection walk past. You look right at the front door as you walk past, all of your things still in place, even Kai's shoes are still right where he left them. 
In the kitchen you find the ringing phone, the little screen bright green as it shows the incoming call. The skins faucet turned on, the pelting water beating down on the thin aluminum foil of the jiffy pop, hastily tossed into the basin. Thin rivulets of smoke still curling from the singed popcorn. The stove's gas burner still lit with a blue flame. 
The ringing continues as you turn everything off, feeling suddenly too cold and alone standing under the golden lights. It doesn't help that you're only dressed in your panties and tanktop, bare feet padding across the tile to pick you the phone. 
Unknown caller. Read the directory, not even the number shown underneath. You hit answer before you could think better of it. 
“Hello?” your pulse was in your ears, washing down your neck, but you're stunned to recognize the voice over the phone. 
“What's your favorite scary movie?” 
You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you respond, “kai, are you using the ghostface voice on me right now? You already had your hand down my pants no need for the theatrics,” 
You can't even pick up a trace of his real voice over the filter, the soft chuckle on the other line trickling down your spine. “You didn't answer my question, you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”
“So we’re quoting the movie now?” you ask, looking around the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop. “Should i go all in and start asking to make it to the sequel?” 
He chuckles, so soft and sensual, unlike his usual boisterous laugh. “Maybe…but a little birdie told me that you're not a virgin and you know what happens to those who sleep around right?” 
“Enlighten me,” you cross your arms smiling at your reflection in the window. It's a bit silly to be here roleplaying in the first place but it's not like you're against it. What gets you is that it's coming from kai of all people. So soft and sweet, giggling and shyly walking you home. But you truly never know what a persons into until you're faced first with it. 
“They don't last very long,” so smug as he says it. 
“They don't?” 
“Nope, and you have a list of things that you've already done wrong. I don't know if you truly deserve to make it to the sequel,” 
“Oh? What did I do wrong?” you smile, checking out your nails, thumb running along the bed of your cuticles as you listen. 
“Humm, let me see. First you're all alone in that big old house, did anyone ever tell you never to go into the dark and scary woods all alone?” 
“I'm not alone, i have you,” 
He ignores the last half of your statement, “Aren't you? hum, funny how i don't see the boytoy around anymore,” 
“I can't believe you planned all of this, who knew you would be so freaky? I can't say that it doesn't turn me on though,” 
“Oh? How cute that you still think I'm your little boyfriend. I mean didn't you see the signs? The door was unlocked in the back, popcorn on the stove when you didn't put it there, and now a missing boy toy. It's a shame you seem to have forgotten everything you've learned in class, or maybe it was the wine,” 
“A few sips won't make me stupid, seriously huening come out, i want to get back into your bed,” you push off the counter, walking back toward the living room until you're stopped dead in your tracks. The sound isn't coming from the phone but just up ahead around the corner.
Your laugh echoes in the empty house, followed by your own words, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening, we have all night, I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” 
You follow each line into the living room, the tv on and showing a video of only minutes ago. 
“Please?” kais weavering voice seems so loud here instead of between you two. 
You can see yourself push down your pants, watch the way the two of you fall right back into each other. Only now you're seeing it from the perspective of the closet, it's the only place you could think of that he would have placed the camera. The slats of the wood even in frame. It's like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on top of you. Standing in front of the tv as if you're Carrie from the prom and someones set up a cruel joke. 
“Cute huh?” the voice over the phone asks, that little laugh following right after, “i sure think it is. Look at the way your body reacts to his fingers, you’ll be that pretty for me won't you?” 
You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, the house too big for this kind of game. Even just standing there now alone it felt like you were a fish in a bowl, stuck to be watched from all sides. And not from the video but from the figure standing right on the outside of the window. 
He was dressed in all black, nothing like what kai had been wearing before. And covering his face the dripping white mask of ghostface. You only catch a glimpse because the lights are on but it's enough to remind you that maybe this isn't a joke. “Are you outside?” 
“I don't know? Am i?” but as he says it you see down the hallway a dark figure step out of a doorway. 
Everything in you freezes, your heart rate plummeting, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. You hadn't even noticed your fingers had been trembling before, not until your deathgrip on the phone starts to hurt. “Don't hang up on me,” he warns over the line, but the person down the hall doesnt even have a phone in sight, his slow prowl reminding you to move. 
You take off back towards the kitchen, the back door playing in your head as the best possible exit but as soon as you're in front of it, tugging on a door knob needs to be unlocked you see the haze reflection of two more figures waiting right against the glass. You can hear the laugh of the person on the phone even if it's not to your ear as you rush to pull open any drawer that might have something in it to protect you. But every pull leads you to find nothing at all, “what the fuck!” 
The door shakes as they try to pull it open, the glass rattling as you lift the phone back to your ear, “okay huening, that's enough, i get it, ha ha, funny, but seriously-” 
“Were you looking for a knife?” he cuts you off, voice so calm when you're falling apart. 
“What?” you're exasperated, huffing the question like it's a slap in the face. 
“I know where one is, if you want it,” 
It's then that the masked man from the hall comes into the kitchen, the steel knife in his hands glinting in the light. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now,” youre desprate to find an explanation for this. The island is between the two of you, his head tilting to the side, the open mouth of the mask mocking you as he takes slow steps around the marble. You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell. 
The door rattles again, the sound making you yelp, hand pressed to your racing heart. It's the distraction you need to bolt right through the kitchens arch way and run to the front door. 
You're moving so fast you have little time to slow down, partially slamming into the door, fingers fast to twist the locks. 
As soon as it's opened you're standing face to face with another ghostface mask, his black clad outfit sticking to his figure as he towers over you, phone hovering right over the mask's gaping mouth. “Hum not out the front door i guess,” 
You try to slam the door shut but his boot clad foot moves fast catching it right before it could close completely. Spinning you run towards the stairs, the sound of their following footsteps close behind. The door to the bedroom is still wide open as you barrel through turning around and throwing the door closed and twisting the lock. 
But it's only a moment of relief when you feel a hand clasp around your mouth. Your scream is muffled from their fingers, your eyes closing as if that would fix the situation, the phone in your hand falling to the floor, “Shhh it's okay,” Kai whispers, a strong arm wrapping around your middle pulling you closer to him. 
The weight is lifted off your shoulders hearing his voice, hands wrapping around the one covering your mouth to tug it away. “What is going on?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him. your back is to the door and he steps closer backing you right up against it. 
“Didn't you say you found it kinda hot, the whole fear thing?” he asks, leaning close enough to kiss, “i wanted to make it extra special for you, and you don't mind if we all share you, right?” his knuckle lifts your chin up so you’re eye to eye, nose to nose, his normal shy smile turned devilish. “All you have to do is say no,” 
It was crazy to say yes. your heart still pounding, breathing only just starting to regulate, and yet you want him, you want them. “I-I don’t- I don’t want to say no,” 
“Then don’t,” he pushed his whole body against yours, engulfing you in his warmth, taking you for another kiss like you hadn’t left the room at all. You don't even notice him unlocking the door, not until the knob is shaking against your back. 
Kai pulls you towards the bed, the closet doors behind him open showing the empty space with a lone camera on a tripod. The red light looking back at you like a warning, you looked right down the barrel of the lens wondering if you would ever see this again, and praying that you did. Kai fit his fingers over you eyes, “don't look at it, don’t think about its there,” 
You hear a chuckle, so similar to the one over the phone, only without the filter. Now so easily recognizable as yeonjun, you can picture the way his mouth looks as he does it, his canines on display as he smirks. You don't even have to see him to know, you've known all of them so long you're sure one touch and you could guess who was who. And with both of kais hands on your eyes the brush of someone's fingers on your cheek lets you know exactly who it is. Soobins hands are the softest of the bunch and your face tilts in his direction. “Soobin?”
he lets out a huff of a laugh, “you caught me. And you know it's kind of rude not to open the back door when we come knocking,” 
“You scared me,” it's a soft confession that they all chuckle at. 
“Did we?” beomgyu teases, so much closer than you expected, the ghost of his touch going up your arm, goosebumps popping up along the trail. 
Your senses are on overdrive, pulse loud enough to be heard if one listens close enough, every little thing heightened by your fading fear and covered eyes. You feel a hand slip down your stomach stopping right before your panty line, a single finger sliding under the waistline to pull it and let it snap back against your skin. You jolt from the contact, body flush with kai’s, his hard cock pressed to your back. 
You hear rustling from the closet, and kai lets you go, letting you see yeonjun taking the camera in hand. He's adjusting the viewfinder, the others standing in a circle around you, it should be intimidating, the masks off now, looking at you like you're something to eat. It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue. 
“You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. He smirks, “i want first,” 
It's all he says before he's pushing you down on the bed. It's so quick the air is almost knocked right out of you, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the beds duvet cover. It's almost a shame how wet you already are, the way your panties are cut away, the cold knife in taehyuns free hand only just brushing your skin. The fabric tossed around from person to person. “I did most of the work,” kai adds as you bury your face into the sheets, “she wouldn't be this prepped if i didn't start early,” 
“And that's why you have to wait,” “You didn't even get her off,” they talk over each other.  
“You guys didn't give me time!” kai tries but they ignore him when you give a sharp whine. 
Taehyun shoves his fingers right into you, your body so willing to take him in. but you hear his belt being undone with one hand, and it's a shame you cant see the way his cock looks from this angle, because as he pressed the tip right at your entrance, slick fingers helping to lude up his veiny shaft, you can tell he's going to be the perfect stretch. 
Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. “Holy shit,” teahyun breathes his hand pressed right to your lower back, your feet dangling right off the edge of the bed, toes only just barely touching the ground. 
“Doesn't she feel amazing?” kai asks, “fuck i bet she fits like a fucking dream,” gyu adds as he walks over to the other side of the bed climbing in to lay against the headboard. His zipper was already undone, pants low on his hips as he watched you get pounded into. 
Because tae was not holding back anymore, it felt like he had been waiting all night for this exact moment, to chase his high without question. And your pussy was so welcoming, sucking him in, practically begging for his cum. 
Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?” 
“Oh, look at that, huening marked up our toy already,” soobin reaches out a finger, tracing over the hickey kai had left on your skin, your eyes were wide and begging as you watched him, mouth caught open in a moan as taes thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck, look at that mouth,” 
yeonjun bent down to catch the image. “I think someone needs to fill it,” 
Soobin didn't need to be told twice. He was tugging his cock out of his jeans, leaking precum already dotting the tip as he gave it long languid strokes. Your mouth was already watering at the sight, knowing taking him down your throat would be a task but one you wouldn't back away from. 
But taehyun was already cumming, orgasm cresting as he slammed his hips into your ass, cock twitching as he let out a deep rumbling moan. He let go of your hair, head falling forward into the duvet as he stilled inside you pressing as close as he could get, the tip of his cock hitting you just right as he spilled inside you. 
“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question. 
“No-” soobin starts but beomgyu is already moving from his stop on the bed as taehyun pulls out, the gush of warmth leaving your cunt dripping down your thighs. Yeonjun is quick to catch the sight on film. 
“Look at that,” it sounds so endearing coming from him, a true sight to behold as you whine from the feeling of being empty. You feel like a ragdoll as soobin pulls on you, tugging you further up the bed so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him. 
“Open,” his tip is already prodding at your lips. You feel the bed dip behind you, gyu finding his place as he drags his fingers through the leaking cum traveling down your legs, he does his best to shove it right back into you, fingers dragging over your clit, circling it as soobin shoves his cock right into your mouth. 
You give a muffled yelp, tongue flattening to make it easier for him to slide in and out of. His head is rolling back, hair spilling around his ears as he moans. He twists his fingers in your hair, both hands wrapping around your head to bob you up and down on his dick like his own personal toy. You're nails dig into the sheets, the sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat taking up the most sound. 
Beomgyu keeps one hand on your clit and the other guides his cock into you, he's quick to snap his hips forward sending you forward on soobin, until you're choking for air. Moans sending vibrations up along soobins shaft. His eyes tighten, needing to pull away before he cums too quickly, face flushed red as rivulets of your saliva still connect you to him. 
The constant pressure put on your clit from beomgyus fingers has your stomach tightening in knots. Now that you're not taking soobin in beomgyu picks up his pace, the skin on skin slapping sounds melding with your whines. “I want you to cum for me, i want to be the first one to make you cum, please,” he sounds so desperate, not matching the way he drills into you, tip hitting your cervix in a mix of painful pleasure. He can feel your fluttering walls, every particularly hard thrust making your cunt react just right. And when you cum hes a blubbering mess, “fuck fuck fuck-” not expecting to cum so fast, but youre drawing it out of him, with each little sound you make. He's almost embarrassed by how long he cums for, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder blade, his dick pulsing inside you, curses turning to nonsense, the drawn out, “fuuu- ahh, ah,”  
“Look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” yeonjun smiles, bringing the camera close to catch the way you are trying to blink the spots from your vision, “soobin next? Or maybe kai? Both of them seem to have waited so long for you,” 
Kai leans back against the dresser, arms crossed as he watches you, expressionless as he follows the shape of your body. Only one of your tank tops straps are on, your breasts already spilling out from the thin fabric, soobins eyes caught on your peaked nipples as he strokes himself. But you look back over to huening, the way he's standing there like he's unaffected at all. But you know it's not true, not when he's straining in his pants, the bulge itself drives you insane. “Hyuka?” 
The shyness in your voice is what does it for him, beomgyu only just pulling out of you with a hiss. More cum dribbling out as he pushes his hair back looking at his handiwork. Yeonjun is right next to him too, getting the perfect shot. 
Taehyun languidly lounges back against the headboard, cock still hard as it rests against his stomach, hand wrapped around the base as he watches you. It distracts you enough not to see kai moving replacing gyus spot. 
Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull, your whimper making him chuckle. His free hands traced up your side, slipping under your tank top as he feels along your skin. “You know I was thinking about this the whole walk back after our study night?” his hand dips down fingers sliding along your wetness, “i kept thinking about how perfect it would be to absolutely ruin you,” 
You're already sensitive from finishing already and kai can tell as your thighs tremble but it wont stop him from pinching your clit. Your hips push back against him, yelping as he goes on to rub circles over the bundle of nerves. “Seeing it happen- watching you get used as a little cum dump is so much better than I ever imagined,” he works your clit, building up his speed until your back is arching, nails biting into your palm as you feel your orgasm building too quickly. You're trying to rock back into his hand but the way he has you bent helps very little. Your cries heighten until he pulls it all away. 
“No huening please!” 
“Aww how cute, she's begging,” beomgyu laughs and you're whimpering in response. 
“Kai…please!” 
“You're already doing so well because i want you begging to be filled with my cum, crying from how badly you want it,” his hand goes back to your cunt, pressing into your clit rubbing at a pace that has you seeing stars, your hands scratch out for looking for anything to hold onto. Yeonjun takes your hand in his keeping the camera facing your reaction as your eyes roll back. Its in the middle of your climax that kai pushes his cock into you, finding a punishing rhythm as he fucks you into the matterss. 
“Beg for it,” he growls, hand in your hair twisting in the strands. You can feel him all the way to your throat, stretched out so good, he presses right into your gspot like he was made for you. 
“P-please- hyuka i need it- i-” you cant even get the words out anymore, the squeaking of the bed building as he increases his speed. You can hear the wet sounds of the other boys jerking off, “i want your c-cum, i need it,” 
“Louder,” yeonjun mutters in front of you, your death grip on his hand not loosening anytime soon. 
“I want it! I need your cum, please!” But Huenings is so lost chasing his own high that he drops his hand from your clit to grab your hip, his bruising hold and brutal thrusts making you cry out. 
Beomgyu reaches down under you, fingers finding just the right rhythm to send you over the edge at the same time kai cums. His faltering thrusts and throaty moans makes you feel weak. Your cunt is strangling his cock, his release pushed as deep as he could get it into you. When he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, completely used up. 
It feels never ending body too tired already when you feel soobin climb into the bed. He lays right behind your exhausted form, both of you on your sides facing yeonjun, “look who's next, do you think you could get another one out of her? I hear you're only a freak in theory and not practice,” 
But soobin doesn't take the bait, one hand sliding under you and wrapping around your chest, hand coming up to cup your breast, fingers twisting your hard nipple, and the other lifting your leg to get better access to your leaking cunt. Your thighs are so sticky soobins fingers slip on his hold, having to tighten his grip to make sure he can keep you open. He's been ready since the start, his cock aching as it prods your now puffy swollen cunt, so used you're sure you would be sore for days. 
When he sinks in your whimpers are so soft they are hardly heard. Yeonjun is kneeling on the floor, arm holding the camera resting on the bed. He captures the way soobins dick slides in with ease, no resistance now with how much slick is coming out of you. Every drag of soobins cock comes away stained in white. A ring of the combined cum circling the base, balls sticking to your skin with every thrust. 
His breathy moans are lost against your neck, pitiful little sounds before he's muttering, “im sorry, oh god- im-” 
“Don't you dare cum yet,” yeonjun warns soobin, who pauses his thrusts trying to listen but can't find it in him to restrain. Yeonjuns fingers pinch at your clit, your whole body reacting to the feeling, jolting you back to life as you cum. soobin unable to handle the pressure and is a complete mess, whimpering as he pulls you closer, hugging you as if he could merge bodies. 
It took him a while to finally pull out, a much needed break for only a few breaths before yeonjun passes the camera to taehyun to keep the filming going. You can feel the weakness all the way down to your bones, sure if you stand you could collapse to the floor, legs too weak to hold you up. But yeonjun is looking at you like you're being served on a silver platter, all done up with all the best fixings. 
“Best for last huh?” he grins climbing over you brushing under your eye to catch a single tear that's fallen from your overstimulation. “Its so fun to see you so dumb on cock, so unlike how we usually see you,” 
You hum in response as he pushes your legs open, hands at the back of your knees pushing them to your chest. When he puts them over his shoulders you whimper, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks into your wet heat. Bent in half you feel your toes curling, sure that if you came one more time you would be better off sleeping for the next year. “I think this is good practice, don't you?” he asks like you'll respond to him with anything other than a string of muffled whimpers. Your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat, sticking to his skin as he takes a slow pace. It's like he's apologizing, lips peppering across your cheek, down your neck. “We’ll keep you so happy, stuffed full like you deserve. Would you like that?” 
You're nodding, eyes closing as he uses you. You don't even notice the way your body is reacting, that slow rise of your next orgasm building up, “i-” you can’t think about cumming again already feeling so dumbed out. 
“Hum? Are you going to cum, pretty?” he picks up his pace, sinking his hips and hitting you right against your g spot. Your head rolls back as it washes over you, body tightening until you feel like you’ve combusted into little particles. “Oh look at that, so perfect for me, your pussy feels so good when it's squeezing me like this,” it's all he says before he’s trembling, a guttural moan taking over as he cums, you swear you can feel its warmth spreading throughout you. And when he pulls out he takes the camera back from taehyun focusing it in on the sight of all the combined release staining your folds. 
“Look at how she pushes it out,” beomgyu says, mesmerized by the way you look leaking so much cum. But it's Kai who leans down, fingers collecting anything he can before shoving all the cream right back into you. “Its almost like she wants us to fuck it right back in,” 
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🏷taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3
thank you so much to @beomiracles @prince-jjae and @thetxtdevil for beta/proofreading the first part of this fic!
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ghostgirl101 · 8 months ago
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I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting
Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||
A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩
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You can't escape fate.
It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.
At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.
"You aren't resting."
Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.
"What troubles you?"
You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.
"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.
But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.
"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"
"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."
"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"
You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.
You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.
"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."
Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.
"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."
"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"
"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."
The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.
"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."
And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."
Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.
"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."
You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.
"Won't you tell me?"
Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.
"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.
"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.
"Not like you do," you answer steadily.
"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."
Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.
"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."
"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."
"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"
Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.
You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.
"A queen?"
"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.
"To being desired?"
You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."
"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."
You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.
"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."
"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."
"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."
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Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie
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hannieehaee · 6 months ago
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18+ / mdi
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content: loser!seungcheol, afab reader, smut, continuation of my previous two loser!cheol fics, mentions of fwb relationship, confession, penetrative sex, etc.
part 1, part 2, part 3
wc: 2017
a/n: im creating the loser cinematic universe
masterlist
"so, are you guys dating now?", jeonghan asked one day as a few of the other frat members hung around the kitchen after a rowdy night partying.
"oh, uh, i'm not sure," was seungcheol's response.
it was the truth.
after only a few weeks of knowing each other, – and you jumping his bones every time you saw him – seungcheol still had no idea what label he was supposed to use when referring to you.
you were quite sweet to him any time the two of you got down to unseemly activities, but you were yet to mention anything about being exclusive, much less about officially being his girlfriend.
still, when jeonghan asked, seungcheol felt slightly embarrassed answering.
he wanted to proudly claim you as his; to have his fellow frat brothers look at him in envy when he brought you around, knowing you had picked him out of everyone else; that despite having the reputation of being a loser and a smartass, he had scored the prettiest and sweetest girl on campus.
sadly, he could only daydream about such a thing. he fid not have the balls to actually ask you out, something that jeonghan apparently caught sight of when seungcheol gave him his answer.
"dude, just ask her out," he practically scolded, "she clearly likes you. just make the first move and tell her you wanna be official."
"it's not that easy," he grumbled.
except it was.
what seungcheol didn't seem to realize was that you and jeonghan weren't just mere acquaintances. you were actually friends, which meant that he was pretty well informed on the current status of your relationship. while seungcheol remained unaware of what you sought out of the relationship, jeonghan had been made privy of that information by you directly.
your current hope was for seungcheol to ask you out himself. you knew he was shy and introverted, – and entirely inexperienced when it came to relationships – but you wanted him to want you so bad that his want for you bypassed all those barriers. being asked to be official by the pretty nerd from your friend's frat house was something you simply felt was a must. refusing to make the first move, you waited for him to grow frustrated enough to snap and beg you to be his.
meanwhile, seungcheol was disheartened at the thought of you being so nonchalant about it all, believing that if you were really interested, you wouldve already asked him to be yours.
"girls like to feel wanted. all you have to do is ask her out to a movie or something. easy," shrugged jeonghan.
"easy for you to say. i've never done it before," complained seungcheol, deflated.
"when's the next time you're seeing each other?"
"she asked to come over tonight, why?"
"great," smirked jeonghan, "i have a plan."
~
even as socially inept and inexperienced as seungcheol was, he knew this was the cheesiest thing he could've possibly done.
however, jeonghan had been right about setting him up with you in the first place, even having orchestrated the perfect plan to do so in such a seamless way that it landed seungcheol the prettiest fuck buddy, so he decided to blindly trust jeonghan's expertise yet again.
and now he stood in his room, staring down at the bed covered in red rose petals as what jeonghan described to be 'baby-making music' played. the lights were dimmed and the entire aura was nothing short of suggestive.
after having confirmed for you to come over, – all while jeonghan dictated the text seungcheol was meant to send you – he prepared his room for 'a night of romance,' as jeonghan had called it. the plan was to welcome you in, somehow work his way into a confession, and then 'make love' to you (jeonghan's words, not seungcheol's). as much as cheol wanted to actually make love to you and make you officially his, his anxiety was through the roof. he had never had a girlfriend before. you were his first everything, and he was terrified of scaring you away by being too forward. maybe all you wanted was something casual – which would break his heart, but he'd respect it.
it was, however, too late to back down, as you were supposed to arrive within minutes. in fact, he could already hear the door being opened, accompanied by muffled speech, coming from the entrance of the frat.
upon hearing a quiet knock on his door, he went to open it, offering you a sheepish smile as you walked in and took in the sight.
you giggled in disbelief, "cheol, what's all this?"
"uh, i, uhm, i wanted to make tonight a little extra special, that's all."
— 'tell her you coward!', he could hear jeonghan's voice playing in the back of his head.
"yeah? that's all?", you asked, nearing him with a purpose.
"well, no, i- i actually wanted to ask you something."
"mhm?," you smiled, placing your hands on his shoulders.
he was visibly sweating by now, gulping after every sentence and his eyes fleeting from your own down to his shoes.
"just, uh, i wanted to, f-fuck- it's kinda difficult when you- when you do that," he stammered when your hands made their way to the back of his neck, playing softly with the hair there, drawing goosebumps in the process.
"it's okay, cheollie, just tell me. i can get a lot more distracting," you practically warned, not halting your soft touches and now invading all his personal space.
without even thinking of it, his hands had wrapped around your waist, a place that was now natural for him to hold, albeit always in a shy manner.
"y-yeah, okay, uh, i just- just wanted to know if you ... if you'd like to- to, uh, maybe go out sometime," he gulped and cringed at how not-smoothly it had gone over. he hadn't even asked you out how he meant to, how he had rehearsed with han.
"go out? but, cheollie, we already hang out so much. what do you mean by 'go out'?", you tilted your head in fake confusion, clearly acting obtuse on purpose to further mess with an already nervous seungcheol.
nevertheless, cheol was not planning on backing down. not even when you leaned in and began pressing hot kisses to the skin of his neck. not even when your tongue came out to lick at the splotches you'd begun leaving behind. and specially not when your teeth went up to softly nibble at his earlobe.
"b-be my girlfriend, fuck, please? i ...", he whined all at once, hands tightening into your hips.
seungcheol could not be blamed for being such a weak man, falling to your seduction so easily. you were always in control whenever it came to the bedroom. this was something seungcheol absolutely adored. maybe it made him feel weak and a little bit pathetic at times, but it sure made his dick insanely hard, just like at this same moment.
"yes, cheollie," you sighed with a smile as your lips remained attached to his skin, "i'll be your girlfriend, angel."
"y-you will?", he managed to let out a gasp when your hands joined in on the fun, reaching under his shirt and feeling up his chest and abdomen.
"of course, baby. like you so much ... just wanted you to ask me out first," you revealed between kisses on his neck, reaching to his cheek and then finally landing on his lips.
"mmm," he hummed against your lips, hands tightening around your waist as he instinctively pulled you into himself, "god, wanted to ask you out since the day we met."
"i know, cheollie," you giggled, "you're just a little shy, huh?"
"you just make me so nervous," he groaned, letting himself fall limp to your touches, molding to your body and letting you guide him to bed with zero complaints.
"me? but i like you so much," you stress the words as you undress him, with him numbly following along to all your wordless commands.
"like you more ..." he breathed out once he was completely undressed and your hands reached down to toy with his cock through his boxers, "l-like you so much, you have no idea ..."
"can't believe such a pretty boy likes me so much," you went back to his lips, pulling his head back by his hair in order to force his mouth open for your tongue to make an entrance. you breathed in his gasps, making love to his tongue with your own.
"y-you're pretty. so pretty, you- fuck, can't believe you even looked my way," he kept mirroring your compliments, feeling an innate need to let you know how much more into you he was than you could ever understand.
"yeah? let me show you how much i like you, then?" you smiled against his lips, whining at how he seemed unable to disconnect your lips, chasing after your own with a huff.
nodding feverishly, he helped you out of your clothes, groaning any time your hand would go back down to make contact with his cock, eventually pulling it out of his boxers.
"m gonna fuck you now, okay, baby? gonna fuck you just how you like," you promised once undressed, sitting on his lap as his breath accelerated.
he felt a cold sweat rush through his body at the thought of you sitting on him. he'd gotten the privilege of fucking you many times in the pas, but he was always unprepared for the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. the sight of your nude body in front of him was already enough to make him lose the ability to think coherently.
"f-fuck, oh, fuck, thank you," he groaned when you finally sat down on him, eyes rolling back and fingers digging into your hips.
"cheollie ... fuck, always feel so good for me," you breathed, arching your back and wrapping your arms around his shoulders for support, "such a good boy ..."
the praise made his hips cant upwards, beginning to fuck into you with a complete lack of rhythm, yet still making you let out those high-pitched moans that always made him lose his mind.
"it's so fucking tight ... fuck, love it so much. l-like you so fucking much. so perfect for me ..."
"can't believe you're mine ... please tell me you're mine. please ..."
"need you every day. can't live without your cunt. fuck, you ruined me ..."
uncharacteristically, his words were endless, wanting to let you know how much he liked you and how badly he needed to have you day after day. he needed to make you feel as wanted as you always did him. after every single one of his confessions, you'd respond with a reciprocation, making him even more desperate for you.
"'m gonna cum for you, cheollie," you eventually whined, "cum with me , angel. please? show me how m-much you like me?"
how could he deny you when you played that card? when all he wanted was to give you anything your heart desired? he had no ability to resist you, always following your every request without question.
there was no need for him to hold back his orgasm, as he could practically cum on command if you so much as looked at him a certain way. he just liked you so fucking much, having no control of himself any time you touched him.
his hips accelerated when your orgasm hit you, pistoning into you at punishing speed due to the way your cunt wrapped around him all of the sudden. despite already being used to your cunt, he could not resist its warm embrace any time your orgasm would rob you of your senses. predictably, his own orgasm followed yours almost immediately.
"t-thank you. fuck, thank you. like you so much, fuck. baby, l-like you so fucking much," there was a mantra of thank you's and confessions through the entirety of his orgasm, sounding entirely too pathetic but not caring for it as he expressed his truth for you.
"such a good boy, cheollie," you whispered into his ear once both your orgasms subsided. your hands played softly with his hair, pressing him against your skin in a comforting manner.
seungcheol could die happily in this moment. how could things be better than now? he had the prettiest girl holding him in her arms after the best orgasm of his life, having found out that his feelings were mutual. no more words were needed as the two of you softly loved on one another, eventually laying in bed and napping together, only to wake back up again and express the same sentiments over and over again.
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octoberautumnbox · 2 months ago
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Orange-Tinted Sunset
Kiss of Life Belle & Male Reader
Categories/warnings: fluff, smut, angst, mentions of alcohol n bein drunk, technically not cheating but also sorta close enough idk u be the :jujj:
Word count: 2.6k
a/n: another prompt fic! based on kiof's Nothing i swear im on hiatus lmao but here it is! thanks to @mintwithchoco for prompt and hosting! as well as @sinswithpleasure for beta and @0cta9on for saying i was good at everything so i crode strove to prove em wrong lmao
~~~
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The nightclub spun around you, the alcohol clouding your thinking and doubling your vision. A strange feeling set in–you really were a guppy in a small pond. Whatever roaring applause you got from the crowd after that impromptu karaoke bout was nothing compared to the girl that came next. You can’t even work up the energy to be mad; her voice is the single most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard, flowing through the air and filling up every silence in the world, and it doesn’t help one bit that everyone else thought so too.
Her name, just her name. You wouldn't mind going home with nothing to show for the whole weekend as long as you knew what she was called–you have to know. Against every single ounce of common sense you have left, you walk up to her, calling in every favor from the universe you’ve saved up until this point. “H-hey,” you stumble, clearly more nervous than you should be. 
She turns around, and as her hair settles onto her back, she replies, “Oh, hi. Can I help you?” Her smile lights up your world, and you gain confidence and lose it again just as quickly. She’s gorgeous too, and how could you live with yourself if you fucked up with a girl like this again? 
And you realize you’re staring. “Hi,” you start again, “sorry, I, uhh, you killed it up there. Best I've heard in a while.” Pardon yourself for the understatement; she was exceptional. Stop yourself from saying more; she���s probably already heard everything you want to tell her. 
All she does is giggle in response, and you swear you’re face-to-face with a goddess. You slip, so just fall deeper and remember to blame the alcohol later on, “I mean it. You’re like nothing I’ve heard before. Can I ask for your name?” 
Her face sours almost imperceptibly, but your nerves don’t let you miss it. She holds back a grimace, but ultimately, she replies, “It’s Belle. Sorry, is that all? I have to go soon.” She shifts in her chair, no doubt trying to escape the situation, and it dawns on you you might look worse than you feel. 
“Y-yeah, that’s all. I actually wanted to buy you a drink, maybe. One musician to another. You were amazing.” Your voice holds together for the most part, but it doesn’t change her demeanor. 
“Thank you, it’s just…” she hesitates, breathing deep, “whatever this is, I don’t want to get involved. You’re nice, but I just… I can’t handle anything else right now.” The discomfort leaves her features as a quiet sadness replaces it. You’re no expert, but even a dunce like you could tell she was tired more than anything else. 
“No worries, I respect it. I’ll leave you alone.” It’s strange how you feel the lightheadedness drifting away and your senses coming back, almost like you’ve saved up quite a bit of good karma to ground yourself like this. Debatable, but you still have enough sense in you to offer, “Here’s my number, no hard feelings if you throw it away. I at least wanna buy you some nachos tonight as thanks for that gorgeous song. Good night, Belle,” before paying for them and ultimately heading for the door, above all trying in vain to forget about her. 
~~~
It’s familiar in two ways, being hungover at noon, sitting in a restaurant too fancy for what you’d ever typically be found dead in. On one hand, it reminds you of one of the best days of your life–your beloved sat across from you in a simple floral sundress while you shared a brunch of French toast and orange juice. 
“Thanks for coming out,” Belle said in a tiny voice, “I'm sorry about last night. I want to get to know you better.” She offers you a pancake, and once you accept she deposits it onto your plate, followed by a just-right helping of maple syrup. 
You try to avoid sounding humble, but there’s no other way to put it. “There's not much to know, really. I just came here on a whim. Needed to get away from it all, broaden my horizons. Us singers just gotta, you know? If I didn't, I'd never have found you.” 
“I hear you. I'm here to take a step back too. Things became too much to handle recently,” she relates as she takes careful bites of her cereal. For the first time since last night, you see each other's eyes, and a kindred spirit in you pulls on your heartstrings. It's an unspoken pain that's anything but obvious, and yet you see it in each other as clear as day. 
“Fucking exes, right?” the pair of you say in unison. A hearty laugh escapes both of you, and afterwards the pancakes slide down a bit easier. 
Belle calms herself first, “So you get how I was last night. I'm sorry, none of it was your fault.” You offer her a napkin and pour her another cup of ginseng tea, which she sips with an ethereal sort of grace once she finishes talking.
“Of course. I'm sorry too,” you sigh, picking at your scrambled eggs, “but at least we're recovering. I'm actually itching to write a new song once my hangover clears.”
“Me too, it’s just so freeing to let my feelings out onto songs. Plus all it costs is a pen and paper–much cheaper than therapy,” she agrees.
On the other hand…
~~~
“Blue palm trees?” she giggles. “What does that mean?”
The waves lap idly at your feet, scattering sand over your toes and hers. The calming ocean breeze washes over the both of you and weakly ruffles the paper she easily holds.
“It's called a hook, Belle. It captures the audience's attention, you should know this shit” you jab, drawing out more of her laughter. “Just let me be, okay? I'm the one with the pencil.”
She settles again, “Okay, okay, fine,” and sits back up straight. Another wave washes the sand away from the tops of your feet, dragging them back to the depths of the sea. In a split-second of feeling the grains slide off your skin and away with the water, you feel deep inside that maybe it'll be easier to walk again. 
“You know,” she starts gently, “this isn't too bad. I came here determined to grow stronger, but I don't feel any different–just more of what I was before. And weirdly…” Belle pauses, taking a short glance at you, meeting your eyes.
You can't help it; she's just that beautiful. The orange-tinted sunset behind her offers her a halo of warmth and sincerity, and it captivates your whole being to be able to spend a moment like this again, when the world is just right, especially with her. The waterline reaches up to your soles once more, tickling the both of you and sprinkling new grains between your toes before drawing back and taking the old away. 
“... Weirdly,” you continue for her, “I'm okay with that.” Your eyes never leave hers, and she stays, too. It takes a moment of serenity for you to finally let yourself think that this might be something more, that maybe it wouldn’t be the end of the world to stay with a girl like her. 
It takes a moment of serenity for you, but it seems like forever in an instant. Memories rush back like the ocean soaks the shoreline, swapping old sand with new, but you could never, can never, tell the difference. It's the same grains washing your feet, slipping between your toes, embedding themselves in your life so well that random moments like this bring you to the past when you least expect it. It reminds you of a history you'd give anything to forget: walking on a beach like this with a girl you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with–to an extent, you still do. How could you fuck up with a girl like that?
~~~
It's the worst gamble the both of you could take, and deep inside you knew there was no winning this. You felt it in your bones, from the beach to the elevator up until before you burst through her door with her, but the feeling is gone now, and for sure it’s gone for her too.  
“Mmm, just like that,” she whispers straight into your ear. You swear you’ve never tasted anything as sweet as the sweat on her neck, so much so that you never want your lips to leave her. She pulls you closer as if she could, maybe only decreasingly aware that her back was up against the wall and that even grains of sand couldn’t breathe in the space between you two. 
It takes no time at all, and you find yourself laid back and vulnerable on her mattress. Belle towers over you, straddling to keep you in place, as if you’d go anywhere. In a flash her shirt leaves her, then her shorts, and finally her underwear haphazardly thrown to the floor. Your own clothes follow even less ceremoniously, letting nothing get in the way of the woman of your dreams. 
“Fuck, that’s good…” she says as she lowers herself onto your length. You relish in the feeling of sliding into her, pushing her walls apart all the while lewd confessions spill from her lips. Your hands find her hips and you grip her tight, guiding her up and down as she bounces on your cock, “You’re so fucking tight, Belle…” while she places her hands on your chest to support herself as she takes you inside her over and over again, “I can’t get enough of you… I need you so bad…” losing yourself in her love. 
It’s the simplest thing to grab her wrists like this, to throw her onto the bed and fuck her yourself. She hits the mattress with a quiet thud, and without even a moment of respite you force everything into her again. 
“Gnnhhh, shit, it’s so good, you’re so good…” she gasps and grunts with every thrust like it knocks the air out of her each time. The bed creaks under the two of you: she tries to pull you close again, so you indulge her and meet her where she is to kiss. Amidst your tongues dancing in each other’s mouths, she moans like her life depends on it, “Yes, yes, oh my god, yes–” 
It’s the easiest thing to get lost in a girl like her. She’s perfect in every way you can think of–a smile to die for, a heart to protect, a body to worship. Each moment you bottom out in her, a spark goes off between your lips and hers, and it only pulls you in deeper, pulls you away farther from where you are. There’s nothing else to think about when you’re with a girl like this except her name and the way her body feels on yours. It’s so dreadfully incessant, unceasing in your head, that you thank your lucky stars you’re able to hold back most of your moans: Yuna, Yuna, Yuna, “Yuna…”
~~~
The sun blazes through the window and straight onto your eyelids, jolting you awake. The bed creaks as you bounce slightly on the mattress, your mind rushing to find your bearings, when right beside you, Belle stirs but then promptly falls back asleep. 
A grave sense of guilt overtakes you, clawing from the pit of your stomach all the way up to the back of your throat. There's nothing to say to her, nothing to do, and you know it. How could you fuck up with a girl like this? 
Your phone's alarm rings on a far-off table. Rush over to it, careful but quick so Belle doesn't wake. You knock over an ottoman in the process, but you're able to turn it off in time. Then it hits you: your flight leaves in a couple hours. There's no more time to think–gather your clothes and rush back to your own hotel. 
“Hour and a half,” you think, “more than enough time to repack and go.” Your door crashes open and you heave your suitcase onto the bed, haphazardly throwing everything you own back into it. The zipper disagrees with you for a moment until you finally bend it to your will, albeit threatening its life in the process.
The cabbie drives as fast as he can legally go for you, apparently already knowing the protocol, and people and buildings whizz past in a giant blur. He drops you off soon enough, and with only minutes to spare and the gate calling you over the intercom, you board your plane. The cold of the seat comforts you and calms your nerves, and once the hurried energy leaves your body, all that's left is fatigue that demands to be addressed. 
You scarcely notice the window beside you beyond pulling it shut. The cushions aren't as comfy as your bedding from the night before, but you can't attempt to complain in a state like this. You don't even feel your train of thought slipping away…
~~~
You’ve put it off long enough, the anxiety rending the lining of your stomach. In between your own calls and texts to Yuna you find yourself on the receiving end of the restlessness of your endlessly repeating ringtone and text notifications. You wait another few seconds to make sure she’s done, even tossing your phone onto your old bed to fetch a glass of water, before picking it back up and seeing the same number of messages. It's time. 
hey, where'd you go? Belle, 8:46 AM
it's a nice song, I'll send it over in a bit. call me? Belle, 8:50 AM
I'm at the restaurant again lol come on over Belle, 9:02 AM
you're really gonna make me miss you huh? hahaha Belle, 9:33 AM
*2 missed calls*
this isn't funny. pick up Belle, 10:14 AM
*2 missed calls*
you're serious? so last night was nothing to you? Belle, 11:15 AM
*1 missed call*
wow, what a fucking piece of shit you are Belle, 11:17 AM
*4 missed calls*
is it something i said?  Belle, 2:46 PM
let's just talk Belle, 3:30 PM
*2 missed calls*
just tell me what I did wrong please, I told you I can't handle this Belle, 3:37 PM
*8 missed calls*
don't do this to me Belle, 5:47 PM
*1 missed call*
fine asshole i don’t need you and fuck your song. Belle, 7:15 PM
don’t ever call me. Belle, 8:40 PM
The screen dims under your command. Your phone flies off into the folds of your bed once more, granting you your last moment of control. Belle finally stopped, and Yuna never made herself heard. At least one of you moved on.
You stand in your cold, empty bedroom, in the same dingy apartment you tried leaving behind. The same torn-up pages are scattered across the floor, the same stains on the carpet are there to step around, the same picture framed flipped down to hide the old photograph inside like grains of sand getting swept back up to you no matter how hard you try washing them away.
“It's another bottle tonight,” you decide in no time at all. Pull a cold one from the fridge, ignore the other bottles strewn across the room, take a seat at your desk. The lamp buzzes to life, and another sheet finds itself under your pen. 
They never meet. 
~~~
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nsharks · 2 years ago
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can we see more of dad ghost ♥︎ im obsessedLMAO
“soft around the edges”
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aka when ghost’s son runs up to him in front of the team (a little part 2 to this fic. part 3 here.)
Soap doesn't share the Lieutenant's secret with the rest of the force.
Things go back to normal after that brief, bizarre encounter with you. When their break is over, Ghost carries on the typical dry humor and sharp orders, pretending that Soap never had dinner at his cozy home and met his pregnant wife.
Though, MacTavish does notice little differences in his stoic superior turned new dad. Ghost is shockingly, and ever-so-slightly, nicer. His language is still foul. But he's a little less rough around the edges: compliments Soap a bit more, tells him to shut the fuck up a little bit less.
It's not something that any of the others notice, of course, which is why they are all so baffled when they finally do figure out about Ghost's secret family.
It's two years later when they are disbanding at a base in the UK that you accidentally reveal yourself.
It's truly an accident.
Whenever you pick him up from the military base, Simon instructs you to wait outside. Says he doesn't want to put you at any risk. But you have a knack for not listening to him. You missed him so much during the past four months, and the two-year-old in your arms was old enough to start asking where his dad was, so you figured you could wait for him inside this time, hidden away in a corner.
Your plan might have worked if it weren't for the swell of your belly making it difficult for you to hold the squirming toddler.
He recognizes his dad even with the skull mask on.
Immediately starts to yelp for him, kicking his little feet around, and giving you no choice but to set the toddler down for a second. But your son is growing so much, and he's got his father's determination.
It's definitely riveting for Soap and the team to witness the whole thing unfold.
At first sight, the waddling two-year-old boy doesn't faze them. There were usually family members and little ones waiting at the gate. Gaz and Price are saying their goodbyes when they both notice that the toddler running around is coming in their direction. Or more specifically, in Ghost's direction.
Soap knows right away what's happening.
Watches with raised brows.
For the rest of the team, this is the first time they witness Ghost's demeanor shift to something so soft and peculiar. His mannerisms give everything away before the kid even reaches him: a typically-unfazed Ghost looks around frantically, probably wondering how the hell his son even got here, until he spots you waddling sheepishly after him.
Oh, fuckin' hell.
You give your husband an apologetic look that says I'm sorry and help me at the same time.
“Can’t believe what I’m seeing," Gaz mutters, watching as Ghost bends down to pick up the small child.
Tell me 'bout it, Soap wants to say. But he's already gone through the initial disbelief two years ago, so now, he simply watches with knowing eyes.
He can't say he didn't spend some time the past two years wondering what kind of parents you and Ghost had become. He knew bits and pieces of his past and hesitantly wondered if Ghost had carried on that behavior.
But now he witnesses the Lieutenant scoop the toddler in his arms, making him look so small against his broad chest. “I’ve got ya, kid.” And he is tucking the boy's head underneath his chin and pressing his masked nose to the top of his hair.
Then, the toddler reaches a small hand to his mask and pats it, perhaps harder than he realizes, but Ghost simply shakes his head and patiently wraps his much larger hand around the curious little one’s.
Ghost is soft and gentle and anything but angry, even though you worried that he might have been.
Everything seems to sink in for the team when they see you finally reach your husband. Your mouth moving to rush out apologies:
"I'm sorry, Simon, I know you said to wait outside. We just really wanted to see you and I tried to hold him and-"
And Ghost might have been frustrated on another day. But on this day, he’s just relieved to see you again. It's apparent to all of the eyes watching that this brooding man, with his deadpan eyes and a trademark mask, is utterly and unabashedly in love with you and the little family you have gifted him. Finally able to fully relax as he wraps an arm around your waist and nuzzles your neck, something you could never imagine him doing in public like this a few years ago.
“S’okay, love,” he tells you. “Can’t be mad, can I? Not when I get to see you two.”
You’re carrying his second child and he hasn't seen you in months and he simply doesn't give a fuck at the moment.
To his team watching, the Lieutenant seems like another person.
They're watching Simon, not Ghost.
"That's his girl, then?" Alejandro finally asks, as they have been frozen in place. Watching in curiosity and bewilderment.
“Wife seems like,” Gaz says. Shooting Soap a curious look, he adds, “Did you know anything about this?”
“Hell,” Soap shrugs to feign innocence. “Didn’t know a thing-“
But, of course, you’re soon waving over at him and smiling before your husband can stop you. “Hi, Johnny!”
Guilty and caught, Soap offers a small wave in return before shaking his head. “Christ, alright. May have ran into them awhile back.”
“And you didn’t tell us, MacTavish?” Gaz scoffs.
“Not my secret to tell,” Soap shrugs again and watches as Ghost caresses your pregnant stomach. He leans down to whisper something in your ear and you smile coyly at him, planting a little kiss to the cheek of his hard mask. Ghost is somehow able to hold you and your son firmly against his chest and still have more room. Must be what had the two of you realizing that a fourth family member was needed.
Soap hears the snide remarks as your family leaves and is out of earshot.
Looks like Ghost keeps himself busy on leave.
You think he helps with the diapers?
The kid’s even got his eyes.
Reckon he takes the mask off during sex?
Finally, Soap groans out, “Haud yer wheesht. That’s enough.”
“Sergeant’s right,” Price, whose own surprise has faded into something more stern, quiets the members of the team who are still lingering. “That’s your superior you’re gosspin’ about. Show some respect and bugger off.”
But once the Captain is gone, Soap allows himself this one quip (because, he’d been so good at not sharing what he’d seen for two years).
It’s a quiet one that he mentions only to Kyle.
“He takes her shopping an’ carries all the bags. Saw it myself.”
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nerdy-novelist017 · 5 months ago
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Omg yay!! Ok obviously feel free to decline this since the subject matter could be rough for some people but, canon Benny’s reaction to what happened to Kathy was definitely my least fav part of the film and I need it to be rectified through fic🙏🏽. So could you write something about the aftermath of something like that happening to reader when her and Benny have been dating for a while? Im starved for caring and protective Benny unfortunately
Starve no more, anon ;) I have more protective Benny fics in the works! I made this one as a one shot to my Benny x Bunny series, hope that's okay! (This ISN'T the next part to Little Bunny! It's just a little one shot for after they're together ;) I'm working on getting the next part posted tonight!)
Word Count- 1.1k
Summary- Benny couldn't possibly want you after what almost happened, right?
TW- SA, 18+
*Please don't read if you are uncomfortable with the content!
Life Raft (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)
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Benny was going to be so upset with you.
Your hands shook from the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. You blinked and the tears burning your eyes threatened to spill over. Kathy’s hand rubbed the spot between your shoulder blades soothingly as she sat on the edge of the bed with you. Downstairs, you could hear the party wrapping up, Johnny and Funny Sonny trying to get everybody to leave. The party was over, too many bad things had happened for everyone to just pretend they didn’t see it, pretend they didn’t hear it.
You swallowed roughly, the events of the last hour still looping in your mind. The way his cold eyes raked over your body, the way he smiled sinisterly as you backed away. The course palm of his hand that wrapped around your throat, pinning you against the wall. His hot breath fanning across your mouth as his tongue invaded. His other hand going up your skirt, grazing the line of your panties. 
You squeezed your eyes shut at that part. You had screamed, but Benny wasn’t there. Kathy wasn’t there. Zipco wasn’t there. Brucie wasn’t there. You were alone with this man, prey to this predator. And who even was this man? You hadn’t seen him before, even though he wore the colors you had been so used to seeing almost every day. More chapters were popping up everywhere and with it, came new faces to the parties, meetings and picnics. Strangers, dangerously prowling through the club now, waiting for opportunities of solitude to attack.
You had only left the bonfire for a moment, telling Benny that you were going inside to grab a soda from the fridge. They only ever had beer coolers outside by the fire. You would only be gone for a moment. But a moment was all this animal needed as he stalked into the kitchen after you.
You were alone and that realization sent ice through your veins. This animal could do whatever he wanted, and you were powerless to stop it.
And then suddenly Johnny was there, grabbing this man and throwing him away from you. You were stuck against the wall, frozen in fear as you watched Wahoo and Corky jump into the fight as well. The two dragged the man out of the room, heading for the back door.
“Hey, kid, you okay?” Johnny asked, trying to make eye contact with your frantic gaze. He reached out slowly and pulled the hem of your dress back down to cover your trembling legs. “C’mon, let Kathy get you upstairs.”
You hadn’t even realized Kathy was there too now. She wrapped her arms around you, guiding you to the stairs. 
“B—Benny?” You tried to ask and Johnny nodded. 
“I’ll get him for ya,” he said, eyes empathetic.
That seemed to be hours ago. Or maybe it was only a few minutes. You weren’t sure; everything felt a little hazy. However long it was, Kathy never left your side, having planted herself next to you. You tried to say something to her, to thank her, but your throat was too dry and your mind too incoherent. You felt dirty and scared and you just wanted to go home. 
Benny was going to be so upset with you. 
Footsteps climbed the stairs and you stiffened at the sound. Benny appeared in the doorway and you wanted to sob. The man you wanted to run to, the man you wanted to hold you tight and carry you back to safety stood there, a dark expression on his face. With one look at Kathy, he dismissed her. She squeezed your arm gently. 
“I’ll be right downstairs if ya need me,” she promised softly and then she was gone. Benny closed the door behind her and a heavy silence filled the bedroom.
Your heart raced as he moved to stand at the dresser across from you. You could see the tension radiating from him and you swallowed back any kind of hope for him to love you still. 
“What happened?” he asked finally, his voice wavering with barely-controlled anger.
“I-I just wanted a pop. I just came in-inside and he—he . . . I couldn’t—couldn’t get away—” The words tumbled out of your mouth incoherently. 
“Which one?” 
You looked up at him through your tear-soaked lashes. “I—I don’t . . . Did Johnny not—”
“Johnny didn’t tell me who. Just told me . . .” His words died as he looked at the purple marks forming on your neck. His jaw clenched hard and he looked away from you. Your heart sunk at the action. He couldn’t even look at you anymore. He was so disgusted that he couldn’t even look at you. You could feel him slipping through your fingers and total desperation hit you like a wave. The ocean, you thought, that's what it felt like. You were lost in the middle of the ocean and a storm broke a nasty hole in your tiny ship. You were sinking, drowning in that vast, dark water.
The tears broke free from their dam and rolled down your cheeks as a sob caught in your throat. “I’m—I’m so sorry, B—Benny. Please forgive me.”
“Forgive you?” He looked back at you but you couldn’t face his hard gaze. 
Looking down at your lap, you cried. “Please don’t be upset with m—me. I’m sorry.”
He crossed the distance between you, lowering himself to his knees before you. You squeezed your eyes shut to avoid his gaze, heart shattering in your chest.
His warm hands enveloped yours tightly. “Bunny.”
Please don’t leave me here to pick myself up, you wanted to say. Please don’t abandon me to this darkness, I'm already drowning. I'm still me. I'm still your girl.
“Bunny, look at me.” His voice was so soft, just barely above a whisper. 
You obeyed his gentle command. His face was inches below yours, eyes examining. Slowly, he lifted his hand and his fingertips ghosted over the bruises forming on your throat. His brows pinched together but his eyes were soft as they returned to yours. His fingers traveled over the curve of your jaw and up to swipe the heavy flow of tears from beneath your eyes.
“I could never be upset with you, Bunny," he whispered. “I could never.” 
Your hands came up to grip his wrists as if he were a life raft holding you afloat. His hands, you realized, were shaking slightly and you held even tighter, anchoring him to you. 
“I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with myself. Angry that I wasn’t there to protect you.” His voice wavered, tears rimming his beautiful blue eyes. “I promised to always protect you and I wasn’t there. I’m so sorry, Bunny. I’m so, so sorry.”
Words failed you, but you never needed them for Benny. You threw your arms around his neck, burying yourself into his chest. He reacted immediately, pulling you impossibly close as he moved to sit on the bed beside you. You cried, and he let you.
And when Johnny came to check on you, that’s how he found you: curled into your Benny's chest, his arms a protective shield from the rest of the world as he whispered into your ear, hands running gently through your hair. And Johnny knew that you’d be okay, because you had Benny. And Benny would be okay because Johnny and his boys had already taken care of the ex-Vandal who dared to lay a hand on their little bunny.
*Tag List *
@Imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer
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machveil · 13 days ago
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POOKIE!! hear me out a fic for an extremely sub!ghost like to the point where he's on his hands and knees literally sobbing his heart out because he wants to eat you out and you're denying him because you're just enjoying watching him beg but eventually you give in
(I'm ovulating don't judge me im not usually this cruel 😭)
pookie… I see and hear you, I feel you in my bones we’re jumping straight in
CW: Fem!Reader, Sub!Ghost, weepy Simon Riley to soothe the soul… and other things, clothed humping, oral (fem!receiving)
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tactical gear still fastened and balaclava tugged up just over his nose, the sight before you has your thighs pressed together as you sit on the edge of his bed. Ghost, in all his glory, sitting at your feet - tears wetting his eyelashes and balaclava as he looks up at you. he’s still large even when he’s kneeling, but the way he’s behaving makes him look so small
the last deployment he had been on, one where you stayed back at base, had taken such a toll on him. all in one piece, but exhausted and sore. he was admittedly gross right now, sweaty and gear dirty from field work, but god— as soon as he had guided you to his room he all but fell to his knees for you. “Please, jus’ wanna taste you sweet’art.”, strained, voice ragged and gravelly from giving out constant streams of orders. pitiful, deep brown eyes gazing at you as he tugged his mask up
something about the way he looked made a spark flicker to life in your chest, heat pooling in your gut. Ghost is never like this, your Ghost would never be like this - let alone on base. your Simon Riley? that’s what makes this all too familiar, the way he’s looking up at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars. that’s saved for the comfort of your home, your shared flat back in Manchester. to see him like this? a needy, desperate man crawling towards you, resting his chin on your lap? who could blame you for wanting to see a little more?
it almost makes you feel bad when a choked sob leaves his lips - you had let him slip your slacks off, pooled around your boots. your boots, maybe that was why Ghost’s eyebrows were screwed together as he sloppily mouthed at your thighs. “You can— just need you to cum for me first, Ghost.”, maybe that request was too cruel for him, you knew him too well. the sight of him grinding his painfully hard bulge against your boot, spit and drool slicking your thighs as he cried against your lap. you know he can’t, not like this. Ghost— Simon’s too used to you helping him
he can’t cum, not without you - your hand, your mouth, anything you’re willing to give him, even if it’s just his mouth pleasing you. skin on skin contact, it’s nothing compared to grinding on your boot or using his hand. his sclera are tinted red at the edges, salty tears mixing with his spit as he sucks at your thighs, anything to keep his mouth occupied as his hips buck against your shoe. five minutes, five minutes too long when Simon looks up at you. scarred lips smeared with his own saliva, a broken little hiccup followed by a shoulder shaking sob leaves him, “Missed you— please, please, lemme make you feel good, lovie, m’sorry.”
he nearly breaks down when you shift to tug your underwear down, shaky hands coming up to rest on your knees. before you can even finish saying ‘okay’ Simon is parting your legs, slotting himself between your plush thighs. sloppy, a man starved of affection and your cunt for weeks. it would have tugged at your heartstrings if you were paying attention to him, head lolled back as he desperately sucks on your clit. if you had been paying attention you would have caught his sobs, your poor Simon, crying against your cunt. as good as you feel, Simon’s already gone, underwear soaked through as soon as he had his mouth on you
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astermath · 7 months ago
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hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!
HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!
wc: 1.4K
notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!
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Steve is one attentive boyfriend.
It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.
He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.
So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?
It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?
You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.
“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.
The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.
The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.
"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"
You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"
"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"
"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.
"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"
Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.
"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.
"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."
The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.
Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"
You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.
By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.
Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.
Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.
Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.
"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.
"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"
The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.
"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."
He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.
"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.
"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.
"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."
The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”
He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”
You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.
“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.
“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
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starboye · 3 months ago
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pairing: matt sturniolo x male reader
request: Neeeed a Matt fic where him and reader have a quick fuck in the car where reader rides him in the backseat while his brothers go shopping and they almost get caught/do get caught 😭😭😭😭
warnings: smut, kinda public sex, cursing, unprotected sex, caught after the act
on some of the rare occasions when matt would take you all out around the city you'd usually end up stopping by a store where everyone would get something they want but today it was only nick and chris who wanted to shop for some clothes so when they left it was just you and matt in the car... all alone... with enough time to spare.
"so how's your day been" matt asks turning to you, his hand moving to massage your thigh "pretty good" you say turning to look at him "only pretty good" matt question in a joking manner "you know what i mean" you say nudging his shoulder "well i could make it better" matt says before pulling you into a innocent kiss but it soon gets more heated as matt moves his hand further up your leg "matt no we shouldn't" you lowly whimper through the kiss "c'mon their not gonna be back for another 15 minutes at least" matt tries to convince "and you know i can work fast" matt bites his lower lip.
"true" you say "then come on" matt urges getting in the backseat and soon after you finally get in the back with him, straddling his lap and begging to make out "i swear if we get cau-" you get cut off by his hand slipping past your waistband "what, cat got your tongue" matt smirks against your lips "shut up" you whimper a little "we're not gonna get caught" matt assures sliding your pants and underwear down to reveal your plump ass.
you run your hands across matt's chest as you both continue to make out, steaming up the windows with your combined body heat "fuck me" you lowly say wrapping your arms around his neck lazily "i thought you said that was too risky" matt tease running his slender finger along your hole "i don't care now, you started this so finish it" you say desperately "okay then" matt says pulling his pants and underwear down enough to let his dick out.
you moan at the mere sight of his dick "you want it in you" matt asks stroking it lightly "mhm" you nod "you're so cute when you're desperate matt laughs lifting you up and aligning himself with your entrance and lowering you onto him, he kisses you to silence any moans that may find their way out of the car to the passerby's ears, matt thrust his hips upwards into your ass creating a mess out of you.
"you okay" matt asks "mhm... excellent" you say trying to hold back moans "c'mon don't hold back those pretty moans" matt says caressing your cheek with a grin plastered on his face, this fucker wants you to moan out as if you guys aren't in the most populated part of town fucking in the back of his car, you were thanking the lord himself that the windows were tinted but that still didn't calm your nerves.
"matt... i love you and all but im not gonna moan out your name when i'm nearly having a heart attack right now" you say sternly looking at him with lust and nervous filled eyes "you sure" matt says thrusting his cock into you roughly making you yell out a moan before your eyes dart around to see if anyone heard.
"hey look at me" matt softly say turning you to look at him "no one's gonna see us i promise" he says now fucking into you with soft thrusts, you calm down and take in the experience, now riding matt instead of him fucking you "that's a good boy" he coos resting his head on the seat as you do all he work, your hand planted on his thighs for stability as you lift and lower yourself on him.
"ju... fuck- just like that" matt chokes out feeling his climax rise up, getting closer and closer to cumming and he grabs you by your waist, tightly gripping into your flesh "y/n" matt whimpers leaning in to kiss you "let it out" you whisper, matt hears this and immediately cums in you with a grunt, pushing out all his cum into you as you smile down at him.
"we should fuck like this more often" matt says "no thank you" you laugh "whatever" matt replies before noticing his brother walking out of the strep "shit shit shit" he panics and you turn around and see the problem and rush to get back to the front seat, pulling up your pants messily, barely making it before they open the door "hey guys" matt tries to play it off.
"hey" nick replies suspicious of what was going on "ew matt why the fuck does it smell rancid in here" chris asks pinching his nose "i don't know" matt lies glancing over at you and rolling down the windows "oh my god were you guys having sex while we were in the score" nick asks in disbelief "no what the fuck" matt says getting defensive "you guys totally were" chris adds "just get in the car" matt says "i'm not getting in this sex filled car, ill take an uber" nick say and chris nodded his head in agreement.
"fine then" matt says before pulling off after chris and nick shut their doors "you handled that well" you joke "whatever" matt chuckles, nick and chris may not have drove home with you and matt but that meant once you get home you have about 20 minutes till chris and nick arrive, i wonder what you'll do with that time?
taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat
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fordtato · 5 months ago
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Emergency commissions/donations to help me move!
Hey all! I'm in a tough financial spot with a very unexpected $1000 move-out fee, and I need some help!
So I am offering fic commissions AND background/landscape art - That's right, writing AND art, for the prices below! I also will accept donations, but I feel more comfortable offering art, etc.
Donations:
I will accept donations if you just wanna help out! If you'd like to pay for a commission, keep scrolling.
If you would just like to donate without a commission, here is my Ko-Fi!
Fanfiction commissions:
Won't write:
fandoms I know nothing about (DM me if you'd like something outside of Gravity Falls work, though I'm sure that's where most of my following is)
gore
any type of thing that would get me cancelled on twitter dot com (come on guys, im a YouTuber now)
Will write:
Just about anything else tbh. OCs, melodrama, angst, hurt-comfort, you name it.
NSFW (for adult customers only. im not writing this for teenagers. do your homework)
Rates: $25 per 1k words, with a 150 word buffer. (Meaning, if I write 1150 words, I'm not charging you extra, it'll still be $25)
Send an ask or a DM if you are interested!
Note: I will not be posting these on Ao3, due to Ao3's "no money for fics" rules.
Examples of my fics, if you want to check out my work:
Note: Jersey Boy is my oldest fic (literally 8 years old and still going). The first couple chapters are pretty rough imo. The latter chapters are more in line with my capabilities. Also, yes, this fic is still being written, it's just being written between jobs and between work on YouTube vids, and I have less available time for it than I used to. Pay me to finish more of Jersey Boy (/s)
Background art commissions:
So, 90% of the artists I know tell me that background/environment art is one of the parts of the process they dislike the most. But it's actually my favorite thing to draw!
I actually don't feel comfortable enough in my drawing of characters to feel good about charging people for those, but I think I can consistently do some background art!
Examples of my art/pricing below!
Simpler color palette/lighting, and fewer details: $20-30
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More detailed digital paintings: $40-50
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For anymore detail then what you see above, we'll have to work that pricing out!
Example of heavy detail that might cost more:
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Send me details on what you'd like in a digital painting and we will work out a timetable!
Send an ask or a DM if you are interested!
Donate/pay here: My Ko-Fi
I appreciate you reading, and if you can't help out, please share!
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elliezato · 8 months ago
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❀˙⋆Summer With You⋆˙❀
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Pairing: Ellie x Reader
-Modern au!
Summary: You and your friends decide to rent out a cabin on the beach over the summer. This was your last summer before leaving for college, so you wanted to make it memorable. This summer was going to be perfect. You spent your days in the water, taking In the moments in the sun with your friends.
It didn't take long for you to realize your feelings for your best friend Ellie.
The way her wet hair drips down her shoulders as she gets out of the water. The way her fingers strum the guitar as you gather around the fire. The way the stars light her eyes during late night swims. The way her smile grows when she’s with her girlfriend… It's all too much.
Will these feelings ruin your friendship and the whole summer? What will happen when it's time to leave Ellie behind for college?
Word Count: 4.4k
⋆˚✿˖°
a/n: Im back!! I've been in the summer mood recently and I just need to be laying out by the lake rn. I recently read "SYNS" by carmellie and was inspired to make this! I've really been wanting to write a slow burn, angst fic so I hope this turns out good.
I will probably split this story into a few parts depending on how long I want this to be.
This will be my first real fic because honestly I've only written smut in the past and I'm not sure if I like writing stuff like that. I might add a little bit of it every now and then in my stories but it's not something I want to continue to write.
Anyway, I'm super exited for this story! Please give me ideas for future chapters! I love to hear feedback on how to improve or what you guys like.
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Packing your bag was the only thing you weren't looking forward to doing on this trip. You always over packed and struggled to fit everything in your bags. Clothes and shoes were thrown all over your room as you pick out what you should pack. This trip is going to be 2 months long so you need enough clothes to last through the summer but not too much that your car will be over flowing.
"Eww, do not bring that" Dina says in disgust as you hold up an old one piece bathing suit from freshmen year.
You knew she was right, but you didn't have many options when It came to bathing suits. You packed it anyway, along with some other suits from the previous summer. The sun shined through your window, lighting up the room. It was almost noon and you needed to leave soon. The drive to the cabin would take the majority of the day so there wasn't much time to waste.
Dina helped you load your car with your bags. There wasn't a lot of room in the trunk but you two made it work. You slam the truck shut, making sure it wouldn't pop open from all the clothes. Your parents hug you goodbye in your drive way as you and Dina get ready to leave.
You get into your car and put the top of your convertible down. The breeze felt nice in your hair as you drove off. Music plays as you sing your heart out. This was going to be a good trip, you could feel it. Dina pulls out her digital camera and snaps a pic of you driving as your hair blows in the wind. Your sun glasses reflect the trees lining the road.
It's been a long time since you've been on a nice trip. Let alone with all your friends. Nerves start to build as you get closer to the cabin. Ellie and Jesse were supposed to meet you there. Recently it's been awkward with Ellie. Usually you two could talk for hours and spend every second together but things have been different.
⋆˚✿˖°
You noticed this sudden shift in your friendship during one of your sleepovers a few months ago. Ellie was sitting on the floor of your bedroom while you were getting ready for bed. She starts going on a rant about this girl she's been thinking about asking out. You don't know what happened but in that moment you felt this strange rage fill in your heart.
Ellie has always been open about girls she finds attractive but she's never made any moves. The thought of your best friend dating another girl upset you for some reason. You've never felt this before and decided to just let it go.
"She so pretty y/n! Like I really think I'm going to make my move" Ellie scrolls on her phone as she talks to you.
You look into the mirror while washing the rest of the soap off your face. "Go for it Els, you could probably pull anyone"
"Yeah, I know" Ellie says sarcastically, now putting down her phone.
She walks over to you and meets your gaze in the reflection on the bathroom mirror. Your eyes revert down to the counter. For some reason you felt your body tremble as she got closer. You couldn't understand why you were acting like this. You've known Ellie your whole life and never saw her as anything other than your best friend.
She picks up her toothbrush and you leave the bathroom. You lay in bed waiting for Ellie to finish in the bathroom. She noticed the sudden change in your demeanor. After a few minutes your friend turns off the lights and lays nexts to you in bed.
"You ok?" Ellie turns to look at you. Her hand rubs up and down your arm.
"Yeah, Im just tired" You lied. You were wide awake but the thoughts of Ellie swarmed your mind.
Things have been like this ever since then. Every time you guys hung out, you two always end up in awkward situations. You hated the fact that things felt like this. You almost convinced yourself that maybe your friendship isn't as strong and it use to be. Maybe you two are drifing apart. You prayed that this wasn't the case but it was the only logical way to explain the distance between you two.
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"Can we pull over? I have to pee and Im starving" Dina throws her head back into the seat.
"Yeah, I need to get gas anyway" You pull into a gas station and Dina runs in as you follow shortly behind her.
The area was very unfamiliar. There wasn't many people around. You walk inside the convince store and pick out a few snacks and your friend finishes up in the bathroom. You look over to pick out what you want and see a package of watermelon sour patch kids. These were Ellie's favorite. You guys use to walk to the gas station when you were younger and eat these on the curb in the summer heat.
You pick up two bags, one for yourself and one to give Ellie when you see her later tonight. Dina grabs her snacks and you pay. You quickly fill up your tank and get back onto the road. You put the top of your conferable back up now that it's getting darker and the air is cooling down.
The rest of the drive was quiet. Dina slept as you listed to music softly. Superache by Conan filled the car as your mind thought about Ellie. She was all you could think about for the rest of the drive. You were excited to see her, hoping she felt the same.
A few hours later you pull into the driveway of the cabin. You looked at the familiar car already in front of you.
"It looks like they're already here" You nudge Dina, trying to wake her.
You text the group chat, letting your friends know you arrived. As you get out of the car to help unload all your bags you hear your name being called out from a small distance. You look up and see Ellie and Jesse walking towards you to greet you and help with the bags.
"Y/N!! You guys took long enough." Ellie pulls you into a tight hug and then turns to Dina to welcome her.
Your eyes were glued to Ellie. She was dressed in a pair of jorts that ended a few inches above her knees. Her shirt displayed the album cover of her favorite band she took you to see last semester. She wore her old converse that probably need to be replaced sometime soon.
You guys walk into the cabin with all the bags. It was beautiful. Trees surround the land and fireflies lit up every now and then around the house. You could see a glimpse of the ocean from the front. You walk into the cabin and place your bags onto the floor.
"You guys have to see the view!" Ellie grabs your wrist to bring you to the backyard.
Dina and Jesse followed as Ellie opened the backdoor for everyone. As she opened the door you were met with the view of the beach in the distance. Lanterns lit the path leading down to a fire pit. Lights were strung across the yard, lighting up every inch. You closed your eyes and listened to the waves crashing in the distance and the bugs humming from the trees.
"Holy shit. This is insane!" Your eyes light up thinking about all the memories that are about to be made here.
"Lets go down to the beach!" Jesse says as he's already sprinting down to the sand.
"I'll be there in a minute, Im going to change into a bathing suit." You begin to walk back inside until you feel a tug on your arm.
"Come onnnn!" Ellie drags you down to the beach with everyone else.
There wasn't anyone on the beach. It was more of a reserved area for residents only. You kick off your shoes as you stumble down to the water. You watch as your friends run into the waves laughing and taking in the moment. Ellie looks over at you from the water smiling, motioning you to come in. You roll your eyes and walk into the water. It was oddly warm. You cringe at the fact you're still dressed in your clothes from the drive here.
You suddenly gasp as you feel yourself getting pushed into the water. "Hey!" You sit as waves crash over you.
Ellie looks down at you and laughs but it doesn't last long before Jesse pushes her in. "What the fuck!"
You're now laughing at the sight of her drenched in the water. She grabs your hand and helps you up as you two are now dripping wet. You look up and notice how bright the stars are here. Back home you can barely see the stars. The city isn't the best place for star gazing. You can feel your body start to shiver.
The wet cloths that cling to your body get colder by each second. Ellie notices and pulls you close. "Lets go back up and change"
You take your bag of clothes and bring it it your room. Your eyes widen when you realize the room you were sharing with Ellie only has one bed. You don't understand why you're in shock. You've shared a bed with Ellie many times in your life but for some reason you felt weird about it.
"Nice right?" She says as she walks past you into the room.
The room was nice. It was open and had big windows looking out to the ocean. You place your bags down next to the bed and pull out a pair of pjs. You feel her eyes on you as you walk to the bathroom to shower and change for the night.
You take your time getting unready. Turing on the shower as you slip out of your wet clothes. The water is hot and feels nice against your shivering skin. Fingers run through your scalp as you wash out the salty water, tasting it on your lips as it washes over your face.
You dry off your body and put on fresh clothes. You throw your wet hair up into a towel as you wash your face. As you exit the bathroom you notice Ellie is no longer in the room. You walk downstairs to the kitchen to see all your friends sitting at the island laughing.
"Were ordered pizza, I hope that's fine" Dina says smiling, then returning to her conversation
"Im literally starving, I could fuck up some pizza right now" You say as you sit and join them at the island.
"I think Cat is going to join us for a week. She's supposed to be here next Saturday" Ellie looks at you waiting for a reaction.
You immediately feel a frown forming on your face. You hated Cat. You hated how she practically stole Ellie from you, and now she's coming on your trip!? Ever since Ellie made her move on Cat they've been inseparable. She never referred to Cat as her girlfriend but you knew it was coming. The way Ellie looks at her. It hurts. You figured it was just because she doesn't spend all her time with you anymore. Maybe you're just jealous that Ellie's time is being taken up by someone else.
You were looking forward to spending time with Ellie on this trip and now she's inventing Cat? You felt your heart drop at the thought of Ellie spending the next week with her.
"That's exciting" You say as you force a smile but it's clear your upset.
Suddenly there's a knock at the door. "That's probably the pizza" Jesse gets up and walks to the front door.
You make your way over to the living room with a box of pizza in your hands. You place the box down on the coffee table next to the other boxes. Ellie hands you a glass of water as she takes a seat next to you on the couch.
"What movie are we watching?" You feel Ellie's body shift next to you as she grabs the remote to scroll through the options.
"Want to rewatch Bottoms? I don't think Dina or Jesse have seen it yet."
"YES!" She searches up the movie and hits rent without any hesitation.
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The night was nice. You rested your head on Ellies shoulder as you watch the movie. The boxes of pizza are practically empty except for the left over crust from Ellie that she refuses to eat. The movie was almost over and you could feel your eyes getting tired. You've already seen this move a million times so you decided to go ahead and go to bed.
"Where are you going" Ellie looks up at you as you remove yourself from her arms.
"Im going to head up to bed. Im tired from driving all day. I'll see you guys in the morning" You smile and say goodnight to Jesse and Dina.
"Okay, goodnight! I'll be up there right when the movie ends." She gives you a soft smile in return.
The bed was comfortable. It was easy to get settled in as you wait for Ellie's presence. Your eyes close as you wait for her. You could feel yourself drifting off until you hear the sound of the door opening. Your body turns towards the door and you open your eyes to see Ellie walking into the room.
"Sorry, did I wake you up" She quietly closes the door.
"No, I was still up." You watch as she pulls out her toothbrush from her bag and walks to the bathroom.
She eventually joins you in bed. Her body was close. You could feel her settling into the mattress. The widow was slightly open, allowing the sound of the waves crashing to fill the room. The fan kept the room at a cool temperature as you pull the covers higher up your body.
"Do you like Cat" Ellie breaks the silence and turns to face you in the bed waiting for a response.
Her face was close. You could feel her gentle breath on your cheeks as she waited for you to answer. You knew you couldn't tell her the truth. She's your best friend. There's no reason for you dislike Cat, but you did, but you couldn't tell her that.
"Yeah. Why?" Your response was cold and blunt.
"You just always change the subject when I bring her up or you just seem to always get upset." She frowns. "I just really want you to like her because I think I'm going to make things official with her."
You almost was to cry when you hear those words come out of her mouth. Your heart aches. You knew this was coming but you prayed it wouldn't happen. You wished things would fall through between them. You hated that you felt this way. You wanted Ellie to be happy. You really did but you've been letting your emotions get in the way.
"Do whatever you want Ellie" You turn to face the opposite way. You didn't mean for your response to come out as harsh as it did, but it was too late.
"This is exactly what I was talking about. I don't understand why you're being like this" Her voice is harsh. "Ever since I told you about Cat you've been so distant. I don't know why you're being like this but clearly you need space."
You feel her get up from the bed. "Where are you going?" You sit up and look at her.
"Giving you space. You obviously are upset with me and I don't know why." She gets up and leaves the room.
You lay back down on your back as the tears that formed in your eyes begin to fall down your cheeks. Her words stung but she was right. You feel bad for being so short with Ellie, she doesn't deserve it. Your whole life you and Ellie have been so close. You told each other everything. The reason your friendship is changing was because of you.
After tossing and turning in the empty bed for a while you look over at your bag and see the candy you bought for Ellie but forgot to give her. You decide to get up and find her, still feeling bad about earlier. The room was dark and hard to navigate but you found the door. You walk downstairs to see Ellie laying on the couch. She's wrapped up in a small blanket, sleeping softly. You sit on the edge of the couch and look at her with a feeling of guilt settling in your stomach.
"y/n?" She slowly opens her eyes and looks at you.
"Im sorry Els." You look at her with damp eyes. "Im sorry I've been so distant and I'm sorry for being rude." You wipe your tears trying to gain composer.
Ellie sits up and wraps her arms around you, bringing you close to her body. She wipes your tears as she holds you. "Stop crying. Im not mad at you, Im just confused."
"I know and Im sorry" You rest your head on her chest.
You eventually lay down on the couch with her. There isn't too much room but you make it work. Your bodies press against each other as you close your eyes. Her arms are wrapped around your waist, still trying to calm you down. You quickly fall asleep, feeling that your friendship is returning to what it once was.
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You wake up alone on the couch, hearing chatter from the kitchen. Sitting up and looking over you see your friends making breakfast. The air smells of salt and pancakes.
"Look who's finally up" Jesse says teasingly as he flips a pancake.
"You hungry?" Ellie asks as she holds up a plate of food she had already prepared for you.
You get up from the couch and sit at the table. The kitchen had huge windows that had the perfect view on the backyard and the beach. The cabin was so pretty during the day. The sunlight lit up the whole house. You look up as you see Ellie placing a plate in front of you. She sits down and joins you for breakfast.
"Do you have any plans in mind for today" She looks up at you as she takes a bite of pineapple.
"I really want to explore this area and go to the beach." You smile at her as you spread the butter on your pancakes.
You put on your bathing suit and then some shorts over as a coverup. The weather was hot but not humid. There was nice breeze outside. There were a bunch of beach bikes on the side of the cabin for guest so you and your friends decided to explore on them.
Wind blew through your hair as you rode down the dirt paths from the cabin to the nearest sidewalk. Music played through Ellie's speakers as you rode. You eventually came across a small beach town with restaurants and shops. There were people walking through with friends and family enjoying the start of summer break.
You tied your bikes to a post and decided to walk around. "This place is so cute!" You take out you phone to take some pictures.
Dina points out a small local coffee shop and starts walking towards it. You guys enter the shop and order coffees to start your morning. Ellie wasn't a huge coffee person so she got a refresher.
"Els you need to try this!" You hand her your drink waiting for her to take a sip.
"No thanks. I really don't like coffee" She pushes your drink away.
"Seriously Ellie, its so good, you have to try it" You push your cup back into her hands.
She hands you her drink so you can try it as she takes a sip of your coffee. "This is disgusting!" She cringes as the taste of coffee lingers in her mouth.
She takes her drink back and washes out the bitter taste of coffee from her mouth. The coffee wasn't even strong, it was mostly washed out with a sugary creamer. You laugh watching Ellie's reaction to the coffee and took it back from her hands.
The town was small so it didn't take long to explore it. You guys planned on trying every restaurant here over the summer. The breeze from the ocean felt nice. The air smelt of salt and coffee.
You and your friends got back onto your bikes and rode down to the beach. The weather was starting to get warmer as noon approached. You set you bike up again the beach entrance and step onto the sand. You take off your shoes and toss them into your bag and walk down to the water. Ellie follows shortly behind and sits down on the towel that Dina places on the warm sand.
You join Ellie on the towel as Dina and Jesse head towards the water. "Im sorry about last night, I was just tired. I don't even remember why I was upset." You say looking at Ellie as she takes a sip of her drink.
"Y/n, it's really ok, I'm not mad. I just want us to go back to how we use to be" She admits as she meets your gaze.
"Me too" You smile and rest your head on her shoulder as you watch your friends splashing each other in the waves.
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The first week was perfect. You spent your days at the beach and cooking out in the backyard of the cabin. Jesse and Ellie set up hammocks in the back, so you guys could star gaze and talk until the sun starts to rise. Things were going better than you imagined. Your relationship with Ellie was better than ever. You two did everyone together.
"Cats going to be here in a few minutes!" Ellie impatiently checks her phone waiting for Cat's arrival text.
You sit at the island finishing your breakfast. The windows were open, allowing the fresh air to calm you down. You've been dreading this since Ellie first brought up the fact that Cat was even visiting. The thought of Ellie spending all her time with Cat made you sick. You didn't want to lash out again so you kept your feelings to yourself.
A ding from Ellie's phone interrupted your conversation followed by a loud knock at the door. "She's here!" Ellie jumped from her seat and walked over to the front door.
Cat stood at the entrance with her bag. She was dressed in shorts and a tank top with an opened button down on top. You took in the image of Ellie's face lighting up as she looked Cat up and down. You watched as she pulled her into a tight hug. Ellie leaded her into the kitchen with everyone else.
"Hi guys! Thanks for letting me stay for a few days" She smiles and then looks at you.
You return the smile but its obvious you're annoyed. Cat takes the hint and turns back too Ellie. They walk upstairs so she could put up her bags.
Dina looks over at you with a frown. "You ok y/n?"
"Yeah... why?" You look at her with a confused and saddened expression.
Dina caught on to your feelings for Ellie a long time ago. You've never admitted to them because honestly you never thought of Ellie in that way. At least not until recently. It's all been so confusing.
"She's only going to be here for five days, it'll go by fast" Dina tries to reassure you but it just makes things worse.
"I know, I think we'll have fun. And Ellie's happy" You try to convince your friends you're ok, and maybe you're trying to convince yourself too.
Ellie returns downstairs with Cats hand in hers. The sight makes you want to cry but you suck in your feelings and try to avoid them. You knew these next few days would be hard. Not only did you have to watch your best friend fall in love with someone else but you had to get rid of any feelings you have for her.
You didn't even know you liked her but it makes sense now. It's all coming together. Why did you feel this way? You've known Ellie all your life. Why are you just now realizing these feelings? The way she makes you feel when her fingers are running through your hair. The way she holds you close at night. The way she immediately drops everything when you need her.
Your thoughts shatter in your mind when you see Cats lips against Ellie's. You can't help but sit and stare. Ellie never told you they were official yet. Why didn't she tell you?
Your emotions took over and you left. You didn't know where you were going but your keys were in your hand and you were already half way to you car.
"Y/n!? Where are you going?" Ellie follows you as you walk out the door. Cat standing behind. She stands at the door frame as she watches you pull out of the drive way.
The air was much needed. You drove down the roads of the beach. tears building up in your eyes. You had hopes that this drive would distract you but the only thing on your mind was Ellie. Why did you let your feelings get the best of you again. She clearly doesn't like you. She has Cat.
You find yourself sitting in a cafe looking out at the beach. The thoughts Ellie holding you floods your mind. You hate yourself for feeling like this. What would she think if she knew about how you felt? Would this ruin everything between you two? Would your friendship be over for good?
You immediately snap out of your thoughts as you look down and notice a text from Ellie.
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a/n: Thank you for reading!! Im already working on the next chapter. I hope my writing gets stronger as I write more because I feel like this could be more detailed:( Please, please, pleaseeee give me feedback! I love hearing others opinions! Im excited to continue this story because honestly I have no idea where the plot is going to go yet. The next chapters should be longer as they come out. Im not expecting this to be too long but let me know what you guys want for the future chapters!<3
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