#he didn’t get punched in the face enough

[rafeskai]

Opposite — Rafe Cameron

Part Two

She looks nothing like me So why do you look so happy?

Summary: After seeing her ex-boyfriend Rafe Cameron happily flirting with his new girlfriend Sofia at a party, the reader confronts the painful reality that Sofia is everything she’s not—quiet, effortless, and seemingly perfect for him.

Pairings: ExBF!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: None

A/N: Y'all really wanted part two, I had to deliver :)

First Part Here

It had been six months since that night at the Kook party, six months since you’d finally walked away from Rafe Cameron. It hadn’t been easy, but you’d found something you didn’t think you’d feel again: peace. Or at least, something close to it.

Your new boyfriend, Noah, had been a big part of that. He was different from Rafe in every way—kind, steady, and, most importantly, honest. He never made you feel like you weren’t enough, never looked at you like he was waiting for someone better to come along.

So when he invited you to dinner at a cozy waterfront restaurant, you thought it would be another perfect evening. The two of you sat at a table on the deck, the ocean breeze sweeping through your hair as the sun dipped below the horizon. You were mid-laugh at one of Noah’s terrible jokes when your eyes caught movement across the patio.

And then you saw him.

Rafe.

He was sitting at a nearby table with Sofia. Her laughter rang out, soft and melodic, as she reached across the table to touch his hand. Rafe leaned back in his chair, his signature smirk plastered across his face.

Your stomach twisted painfully. You hadn’t seen him since that night, and now, here he was, looking as infuriatingly perfect as ever. His gaze shifted, almost like he could sense you staring, and for a brief, agonizing moment, your eyes locked.

He froze, his smirk faltering as recognition flickered across his face.

“Hey, you okay?” Noah’s voice pulled you back to the present.

You tore your eyes away, forcing a smile as you turned to him. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

But you weren’t. Not when you could feel Rafe’s gaze lingering, not when you could still hear Sofia’s laugh cutting through the air like a knife.

The rest of dinner was a blur. Noah kept the conversation light, unaware of the storm raging inside you, but you couldn’t focus. When the check came, you excused yourself to the bathroom, desperate for a moment to breathe.

You had barely made it to the hallway when a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Y/N.”

You turned slowly, your heart pounding. Rafe was standing there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his expression unreadable.

“What do you want, Rafe?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

He hesitated, his blue eyes scanning your face like he was searching for something. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Yeah, well, neither did I,” you said, folding your arms across your chest.

Rafe took a step closer, and you instinctively took one back. He frowned at the distance. “You look... good.”

“Save it,” you snapped. “I’m not interested in whatever game you’re playing.”

“I’m not playing a game,” he said quickly, his voice low but urgent. “I just... I needed to say something.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms tighter. “What could you possibly have to say to me, Rafe? We’ve already been down this road.”

“I screwed up,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I screwed up,” he repeated, louder this time. “I pushed you away because I was too much of a coward to deal with my own crap. I thought... I thought being with someone easy would fix things. But it didn’t. It doesn’t.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him, the raw honesty in his voice throwing you off balance.

“Rafe...” you began, but he cut you off.

“I see you with him,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “And I can’t stand it. I hate that he gets to make you laugh like that, that he gets to hold you, to love you. It should’ve been me.”

You shook your head, the tears stinging your eyes. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to come here and say these things after everything.”

“I know,” he said quickly, stepping closer again. “I know I don’t deserve you, but I... I miss you, Y/N. Every day.”

The sound of footsteps behind you made you turn. Noah was standing at the end of the hallway, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Everything okay here?” he asked, his gaze flicking between you and Rafe.

You wiped at your eyes, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

You brushed past Rafe without another word, grabbing Noah’s hand as you walked back to the table. But as you left the restaurant, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Rafe’s eyes on you, the weight of his words sinking deep into your chest.

Even as Noah laced his fingers with yours, offering the kind of steady warmth you knew you deserved, part of you couldn’t help but look back.

————————————

 The drive home with Noah was quiet, the silence in the car thicker than usual. You stared out the window, the streetlights flashing by in a blur, but your mind was stuck in that hallway, with Rafe’s words looping endlessly in your head.

“I miss you. Every day.”

Noah must have noticed your distraction. He reached over, placing a comforting hand on your thigh. “You’ve been quiet since we left. You sure you’re okay?”

You hesitated, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I’m fine,” you said softly, though the words felt hollow.

When Noah dropped you off, he kissed your forehead and promised to call you in the morning. As his car pulled away, you stood on your porch, staring at the empty street. The quiet of the night pressed in, but your thoughts were anything but calm.

Rafe’s voice haunted you. His confession had cracked something open inside you, something you’d buried deep to protect yourself.

It wasn’t fair. You were happy now. Weren’t you?

But deep down, you knew the truth. You hadn’t been happy—not completely—since Rafe.

With a shaky breath, you unlocked your door and stepped inside. You barely made it to the couch before your phone buzzed. For a moment, you thought it might be Noah, checking in again. But when you looked at the screen, your heart dropped.

Rafe: I know I shouldn’t have said anything. I just needed you to know.

You stared at the message, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. You knew responding would only complicate things, but your heart had other plans.

You: Rafe, I can’t do this right now.

His reply came almost instantly.

Rafe: Please. Just give me five minutes. If you don’t want to talk after that, I’ll leave you alone.

You closed your eyes, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. Against your better judgment, you typed out a response.

You: Fine. Five minutes.

————————————

Rafe was on your doorstep less than fifteen minutes later. He looked hesitant, his usual confidence replaced with something you rarely saw in him: vulnerability.

“You really don’t waste time, do you?” you said, your arms crossed as you leaned against the doorframe.

He gave a weak smile. “Didn’t want to give you a chance to change your mind.”

You stepped aside, letting him in. The air in the room was heavy as you sat down on the couch, leaving a noticeable gap between you.

“Talk,” you said, your tone guarded.

Rafe leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. For a moment, you thought he might not say anything at all. But then, he took a deep breath.

“I’ve been an idiot,” he began, his voice low. “I thought I could move on, that being with Sofia would make me forget you. But it didn’t. Nothing does. I’ve been trying to figure out what to say to you for months, but every time I tried, I just... froze.”

You stayed silent, your arms tightening around yourself.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly. “And I know I don’t deserve a second chance. But I’m asking for one anyway.”

You looked at him, your heart aching at the raw emotion in his eyes. “Why now, Rafe? Why wait until I finally moved on?”

“Because I’m a coward,” he admitted, his gaze meeting yours. “I was scared of how much I needed you. But seeing you tonight, with him... it made me realize I can’t keep pretending. I love you, Y/N. I never stopped.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and overwhelming. You felt tears prick at your eyes, but you fought them back. “You don’t get to do this,” you whispered. “You don’t get to break me and then come back like this.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to fix it. I’ll wait as long as you need. Just tell me there’s a chance.”

The tears finally spilled over, and you turned away, wiping at your face. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to let you go? To try and move on?”

“I do,” he said softly. “And I hate myself for putting you through that. But I swear, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

You looked back at him, your chest tightening as you saw the sincerity in his eyes. You wanted to stay strong, to protect yourself from the pain he’d caused. But the truth was, you still loved him.

You always had.

With a shaky breath, you closed the gap between you, your hands trembling as you reached for his. “If you hurt me again, Rafe... I won’t survive it.”

His hands enveloped yours, warm and steady. “I won’t. I promise, I won’t.”

He leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. But you didn’t. When his lips finally met yours, it felt like coming home. The kiss was soft and full of unspoken promises, his hands cradling your face like you were something fragile, something precious.

When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I love you,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, letting the words wash over you. For the first time in months, the ache in your chest began to ease.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe in a future where love didn’t have to hurt.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[familiarscars]

Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 09

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.

⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.

It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.

NOAH

If that punching bag could speak, it would beg for mercy. Sweat heated my skin, and with every punch against the rubbery surface, an overstrained grunt sliced through the air.

"I think that's enough for today, Noah," someone said from a distance, but my focus was locked on the back-and-forth motion of my clenched fists, ignoring how they throbbed painfully with each strike.

This was the only way to unload everything consuming me without smashing my head into some random passerby while walking down the street.

The past few days couldn’t have been more hellish. I couldn’t write, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, and all I was left with was being forced to see that woman at every rehearsal and act like she didn’t exist.

Impossible when she was everywhere.

"I just said it seems like enough for today, Noah!" The same voice broke the short space between me and the punching bag as it pulled me away from it. "What the hell is wrong with you today? You seem like you're on another planet!"

The trainer stood in front of me, arms crossed, while I slid down the wall until I sat on the floor. My chest heaved uncontrollably as I stared at his calves through the strands of sweat-soaked hair hanging over my face.

Training at night was good; I liked the empty gym, especially when I used it as an escape.

"My head's full of crap, that's all," I spat, removing the wraps around my fists.

"Anything I can help with?"

"Only if you can hit me hard enough to induce permanent amnesia," I tried to joke, but my voice came out more morbid than anything else.

"Actually... I might be able to do that!" The tall, bald man with bulging veins on his temples shrugged. "But forgetting, even temporarily, won't make your crap disappear."

"And who said I want anything resolved? The sooner everything goes to hell, the better."

I definitely didn’t mean to be so harsh, but it came out automatically, and he should ignore it. My good moods were so rare that, to him, this probably felt like just another normal day.

"It might be a relief for a while, but the body reacts differently than your mind. Even if your mind didn’t remember anything, you'd live with the feeling that something’s missing every time it relives memories, habits, interests, and tastes," he added. "Like when you touch an object and your body reacts instantly, or when you visit a place and your insides speak for themselves."

What utter nonsense, for God’s sake.

"Got it," I said, giving him a thumbs-up with a straight smile, as if that load of crap actually made sense.

"Fine, fine, call me crazy, Mr. Know-It-All!" He rolled his eyes, turning his back. My gaze swept the room, watching as he picked up gloves and bags scattered on the floor, placing them on the shelves.

Leaving the gym, I regretted not grabbing a jacket earlier as the wind hit me on the street. Walking to the parking lot, I unlocked the car with a click, and before getting in, I heard a brief cluster of voices in the distance. Turning around, I saw a group of four girls bundled up in band hoodies, phones in hand.

I couldn’t explain why, but a discomfort seemed to envelop me as they approached, realizing I wasn’t about to flee.

“Noah, would you mind taking a picture with us?” asked the tallest girl, her short hair tucked behind her ears.

Well, maybe there was no harm in that.

“Of course! Let’s do it!” I forced a brief smile as they gathered around me.

A guy passing through the parking lot helped take the photo, and I held the smile until he finished.

“Thank you so much, Noah. I hope you’re doing okay!” said another girl with colorful streaks in her hair, stepping aside.

“I am, thanks for asking.”

I just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t that I hated my fans or anything. In fact, I’d always been able to separate those who genuinely appreciated the band’s work respectfully from those who felt entitled to my personal life, as if it didn’t belong to me or as if I wasn’t an adult capable of handling my own decisions.

But I couldn’t deny that most of the time, I wished to be a voice without a face. I loved writing music, I loved singing, and I never doubted it was for me since the first time I did it. I just wasn’t so sure that back then, I’d also wanted everything that came with it.

The way I felt uneasy in most recent social interactions made it clear how I felt.

“We just wanted to let you know that no matter what happened, we’re on your side. Always!” she emphasized, and my brows furrowed as my expression darkened.

“What are you talking about?”

“It was on a news channel—speculations that the Bad Omens vocalist’s overdose was her ex-boyfriend’s fault.” The information came with a phone placed in my hand. “They dug up videos of you two arguing at the festival, and now they’re blaming you.”

“They’re piecing together moments from shows where things seemed tense and comparing how she’s been since your breakup,” added a redheaded girl, taking the phone from my hand. “But we’re rallying in your defense. We know she was always the problem, and we won’t let her fans drag your name like that.”

Every misfortune seemed to fall short of what I deserved.

“Look, I’m sure you all have better things to do than worry about this,” I assured them, stepping back closer to the car. “I don’t need lawyers for the internet court. Take care.”

With a final fake smile, my eyes narrowed as I turned my back on them and got in the car. Before starting the engine, I still caught one last complaint.

“It’s incredible how he defends that girl even in the middle of this circus. I don’t understand what the hell she has!” she fumed, stomping her feet and crossing her arms.

That was an excellent question.

I was far too focused on the traffic, humming Sicko Mode by Travis Scott, tapping my fingers to the beat on the steering wheel. I couldn’t help swaying in a little dance as if nothing was wrong. The sunlight was strong, so I pulled my sunglasses from my hair to better see the road.

For a fleeting moment of distraction, I glanced in the rearview mirror, and a chilling sensation washed over me for no reason. Behind my car, a dark-windowed SUV waited at the same red light. There was no reason for concern—I knew cars like that were common around here.

But the unease grew, gnawing at me, as I decided to test my suspicion when the light turned green. Casually, I turned the first corner to shake it off, but it didn’t take long for the driver of the SUV to appear on the narrow street, blatantly trailing me.

I pressed the gas pedal moderately, and the bastard matched my pace. He didn’t seem intent on cutting me off, maintaining a safe distance—just enough to let me know he was there, aiming to unsettle me.

I tried to keep control, ignoring my sweaty hands gripping the steering wheel, my gaze fixed on the mirror. Accelerating down the second avenue, I ran a red light, weaving through the crossing traffic to shake the pursuer, my pulse racing in rhythm with the car’s speed.

No time to think. I veered sharply into the opposite lane, narrowly avoiding a collision with another vehicle that slammed on its brakes. The blaring horn couldn’t even dampen the sinister adrenaline coursing through my veins, heating my blood alongside my labored breathing.

I yanked the wheel, swerving into the first open alley I spotted, slowing just enough to notice the SUV caught in the chaos I’d caused at the intersection, freezing the traffic behind it.

But what the hell was that?

After another meeting in the office, everyone was ready to leave. I was really determined to keep my promise when I said she had died to me yesterday.

Today, I only thought about her three thousand times.

When I passed through the door, I saw that she was right behind me, and it was incredible how every time things were tense between us, she somehow managed to look six times more stunning, as if just to provoke me.

The funniest part was that she didn’t have to try very hard to do it.

“Are you okay?” My steps instinctively halted when I heard her voice. “You seemed agitated when you got to the meeting, and…”

If I were speaking to her, I would’ve surely said that a big part of my irritation came from people spreading lies about us online again and some lunatic racing me on the road just a few minutes earlier.

“I really wanted to talk to you about something,” she insisted, gently touching my back, which I quickly pulled away from. Her fingers carried electricity, and just the slightest contact with my skin was enough to turn my brain into useless mush.

But I wasn’t about to break the silence game.

“Noah?” Gerard poked his head out of the room, interrupting the moment. “Can I talk to you?”

“Sure.”

Relieved, I exhaled deeply, keeping my back turned to her as I walked into the room. I hated the smell of cigars and strong alcohol that filled the place, and I couldn’t stop glaring disgustedly at the leather furniture, worried the scent would stick to me.

“Just seeing the number of attendees in today’s meeting told me your conversation didn’t go well, did it?”

“Did you call me here to talk about work, or are you looking to catch up on gossip? I’m sure any website could keep you more updated than I could,” I retorted as I slouched in the chair, legs spread, letting my head fall to the side.

Fortunately, I wasn’t very expressive.

“I called you because I care about you two, and of course, this news shook me—not just because it’s a sad decision coming from someone young like her…” Gerard paused dramatically, and I raised a single eyebrow. “But because I’m worried about you in all of this.”

Fascinating.

“It happened exactly as I imagined. There’s no way she could’ve handled another wave of hate after all these months being labeled as problematic. Noah, I knew she’d eventually find a way to drag you into it, to share the blame!”

“I don’t follow the news, so I’m out of the loop,” I lied shamelessly.

“So you haven’t noticed she hasn’t defended you or denied anything being said about you? Noah…” He took a deep breath, clasping his hands with a thick gold ring on his ring finger over the messy desk. “I’ve been your age, and I know what love does to people, especially when it’s one-sided.”

Nothing annoyed me more than people circling endlessly around a topic instead of just saying it outright. We weren’t at a lecture or a sermon, and outside this place, dragging things out made no sense.

It was impossible not to stare at him with more disinterest as I rested my hand on my chin.

“I know you probably think this is all nonsense, but I can’t let you forget what happened the last time an issue between you two crossed personal boundaries and hurt the band,” he stressed, drawing a line on the desk. “I took the hit, and you… well, no need to comment—just search your name online.”

“Every day revisiting the same topic. Don’t you have a new, important agenda to make my visit worthwhile?”

“This will remain the topic until you stop behaving like you’re ready to throw it all away for that disturbed girl again!” He finally bared his claws. “Are you going to tell me you didn’t, even for a second, think it was betrayal for her to throw you to the wolves and save her own skin?”

I’d reached my limit for the day, clearing my throat into my fist before standing and stretching my back. Slowly, I leaned over the desk, bringing my face close to his while locking eyes and moistening my lips with my tongue.

“Gerard, dear…” I whispered so softly it almost sounded like a song. “You can take my band, my money, my rights, my songs, even the damn socks I sell. But my personal life? That’s still none of your damn business!”

“It becomes my business when she manipulates every thought in your head and keeps you from doing your job!”

“As you’ve noticed, we’re no longer together. She made her choice yesterday, and now our relationship is purely professional. I couldn’t care less about what she does from now on, as long as it means she sings properly and does her job!” I declared. “Now, please stop bothering me with things that aren’t my responsibility or interest. I’ll keep ensuring my part is done.”

A strangely triumphant smile formed on his lips, and I watched as Gerard nodded slowly.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed, giving two light pats to my cheek. “I knew I could count on you!”

Breathing outside that room again felt like being reborn, if such a thing was possible. The entire way out of the office, I tried to push his words out of my head, though they carried a shred of truth.

I couldn’t forget that when everything fell on her shoulders, I had the same reaction, if not worse, staying silent, waiting for the chaos to subside. But it never did, and now it made sense for her to use a winning hand against me.

She knew I couldn’t do anything on my own, and that gave her free rein to do whatever she wanted. But it was undeniable how bitter it tasted to feel like a stepping stone for her unstable ego.

Outside, I paused at the entrance as rain washed over the dry, empty streets of the city. It wasn’t heavy, but the few drops that hit my face were cold and powerful enough to conjure a mirage before my eyes.

Ahead on the road, there was nothing but trees past the shoulder. In the middle of the asphalt, two people—a couple—smiled as they ran, chasing each other like there was no fear of tomorrow. They danced even without music, and it seemed like the first time the boy had ever felt truly happy about something. He looked free.

Shaking my head to push away the revisited memory, I headed toward the studio, which wasn’t far. Outside, amid the laughter and the sound of guitar riffs, there she was, her voice like a spell capable of putting me in an automatic trance every time I heard it.

Passing through the gate slowly, I walked toward the back of the vast yard. She and my friends were gathered, Jolly and she doing a duet—more precisely, a cover of Decode. Even as they seemed to be having fun, she didn’t go off-key once.

The raspiness of her voice, the beginnings of delirium watching her sit there smiling between verses on a bench with the microphone in hand—it took me back to the bar’s back room, watching her sing in absolute silence. There was no technique, no production, no effect—nothing could compete with the absurd talent I desperately wished the world would know.

The same place where I first saw her and swore I’d never seen anything like it, the same place where I fell hopelessly in love with the insane woman who had a desperation for life, for proving how free she was, enough to infect me with the same poison.

I hated her.

I hated her so much.

⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ;

[babydray777]

why’d you only call me when you’re high

draco x reader

The phone rang once, but he didn’t even move a muscle.

It rang twice and somewhere in his dream he heard the far away tone, incrypted into the situation his unconscious was putting him into.

It rang three times, and he was a little more connected to reality.

By the fourth rang he recognized it was his phone. It was not in his dreams.

“Fuck” He muttered and turned around to grab the little piece of shit from the table.

The screen light hit him like a punch in the face. The first thing he recognized was the hour. A sixth rang. 3 and a half.

“Who the fuck…” His eyes fought to accustom to the light as he tried to read the name on his phone screen. “For God’s sake” He muttered now. By the time, the phone had rang like ten times and it stopped just in the moment.

Draco left out a sight and turned around to fall sleep again, leaving it on mute lying on his hand.

Vibration. It started to vibrate now.

He tried to ignore it. He didn’t need to turn off the call, just sleep. He never even heard it for all she knew.

“Goddamn it”

He picked it up.

Silence. Complete silence. He was not going to say a word. A breath could be heard coming from the other side of the line.

His eyes started to adjust to the darkness as he heard her breathing, realizing that coming back to sleep would be a little bit harder every second he stayed awake like this, just waiting for some rational words to come from someone completely irrational.

“Draco” She finally whispered.

“Yeah” He replied. “What is it?”

“What are you doing? Wait…” Draco left out another sight and passed a hand through his face “no come on…” She started to speak away from the phone, other voices were clearly being heard but he couldn’t understand what they were saying “fuck off… come on I told you to fuck off” She kept saying

“Y/N” His voice was raspy, exhausted.

“Sorry…” She said now, she was dragging her words as them were bricks.

“I was sleeping, what else would have I been doing”

Silence. Again.

He could just hang up, come back to sleep and preoccupy about his goddamn sleeping hours instead of whatever she wanted this time. It was just as easy as that, but the phone kept pressed in his ear as if a miracle were about to happen.

“Are you mad at me?” She asked, her voice sounded a little bit broken now.

“Where are you Y/N?”

“Pansy’s birthday” She replied. “Are you mad at me?”

“For being at Pansy’s birthday?”

By the time, Draco got up from the bed. Phone still in his ear, he directed to the kitchen to pick a glass of water as fighting the urge to stay awake had became an impossible mission.

“I know we are not getting back together I just…” She started mumbling. Draco sighed again while the water started to flow from the bottle into the glass. “I just wanted to know how you are doing”

“At 3 in the morning?” He asked and took a sip of water, lying by the kitchen counter.

“Draco…”

“Why’d you only call me when you’re high, Y/N?”

“I’m no…”

“Yeah and I’m not Draco fucking Malfoy, come on.” He left the glass of water in the table and headed to the sofa.

Silence again. He didn’t know what he was waiting for. What words to come out of her mouth, maybe something rational, maybe she would be able to say something this time that would make him wanna surrender, make him wanna pick up the car keys and drive.

“I just missed you.”

Now he was silence. Waiting for her to keep pushing, it was not enough compared to the shit she had pulled him through, but that was not enough either to make him want to leave.

“Can I come over?”

“No”

“Draco…”

“I said no” He repeated. And hell if it was hard for him to say.

“I’m sorry”

“For what exactly?”

“For calling” She said. “For waking you up, for keeping you up. Now and every time I did. I’m sorry.”

He sighed once again. His heart was racing in a way that was completely out of his control and he was making a big effort not to sob in the middle of his living room, cause if he did, he was doomed.

“Listen,” She spoke again. “You don’t have to forgive me, it’s fine. I just wanted you to know that I am sorry. I regret loosing you every day”

This time, a sob was heard, but at the other side of the line. Draco’s eyes were fixing in the window by the couch, wanting to throw the cellphone against the wall and break it to pieces.

“Go back to sleep, sorry I waked you. Goodbye” And by that, she hang up.

He stayed still for a few seconds until he abruptly drop the phone on the living table. His feet started to pace up and down in an anxious manner and his hands came back to his face. He was fighting with himself, trying so hard to think about the right thing to do but a voice in his mind was convincing him that it may not be that bad to challenge the odds.

He looked back out the window.

“Fuck it.”

Draco stood, walked to the kitchen and grabbed the car keys. Then he came back go his phone and texted that cursed number once again and for the last time.

“Send the address”

[iichfilwypj]

could you maybe do hurt/comfort with percy x daughter of tyche! reader??

luckiest of all times | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of tyche! reader ღ warnings: hurt/comfort! jack is an asshole! ღ wc: 743 i hope you like it!!

“How could you mess up the only thing you had to get right?! Are you useless or what?!!” 

As she headed toward her cabin, Jack’s voice behind her wouldn’t let her escape. The other campers stared at the scene in shock, some even with pity, and it only deepened her embarrassment, her cheeks turning bright crimson. 

The worst part was knowing he had a point. It had been a task as simple as making sure she won a card game. Hell, she'd faced monsters and survived, yet a stupid card game was the one thing to break her?

“Stop running away and face–” She heard the gasps before she felt Jack’s hands grab her arm tightly and spin her around. 

For the first time, she saw a hatred that was different from the usual; his expression was filled with disgust, and it unsettled her slightly. 

“You’re just a bitch-”

But before he could continue, strong hands grabbed the boy’s arms and shoved him roughly to the ground. She was so disoriented that she wouldn’t have known it was her boyfriend stepping in if not for the matching blue bracelet he wore.

“Get your hands off her, now.” A deep, dark voice rumbled from his chest, like a warning. If there was one thing Percy could do effortlessly, it was shift from his usual playful self into someone downright intimidating.

Things blurred after that, but soon they were alone in his cabin, his eyes locked onto her, searching for any hint of emotion.

There was nothing visible, but he knew exactly what was going through her mind. She believed she was the cause of her own misery, that she was somehow responsible for everyone else’s problems. 

She was so, so harsh on herself.

And those idiots weren’t helping; Percy was certain he had heard more complaints than any words of thanks toward her.

The moment his hand reached her cheek, she shattered; a sob broke free, soon followed by a cascade of tears running unrestrained down her face. 

“No, no, no. Please don't cry." He couldn’t stop himself, pulling her into his arms to hold her as close as possible."You didn’t do anything wrong, love."

The sensation of her trembling, fragile body against his made him want to go back and punch that jerk, but the most important thing was right there, in his arms. 

She looked desperate, holding her boyfriend's shirt and squeezing it with all the force she couldn’t express any other way. And he let her, offering her the space to do whatever it took to feel better. 

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.”

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for.” He pulled back from her, cradling her face with both hands. The tears kept flowing, and he wiped them away slowly, one by one. "You did all you could, and that's what matters, okay?"

“But I–” 

“No buts. I know you feel like you could have done more, or even something better. But the fact that you tried, that you decided to help him, and that you did the best you could is more than enough, okay? If someone can’t see that, then that’s their problem.”

The gentle caresses on her cheeks continued as the tears fell, but the smile that adorned Percy’s face made something inside her shift. 

“And I’ll always, always–” he whispered, leaning in until their noses nearly touched, his breath warm against her face. “–be there to show you how proud I am of you.” 

His words, soft and full of love, paired with the tender touch of his hand brushing her cheek, caressing it with tenderness like they he could ease the weight she carried on her shoulders.

It felt great to be seen, truly seen. It felt so, so good to be recognized for what she did.

For everything she had done.

She pressed a small kiss on his nose and he loosened his hold on her cheeks, sliding his hands down to the base of her neck, caressing softly. His fingers traced small, soothing circles there, the touch making her feel grounded.

She let out a shaky breath, a soft sniffle escaping her, before looking up at him with a faint smile. 

"You know," she said, her voice still thick with emotion, "I'm supposed to be the one who gives luck to others.  But I think I’m the lucky one for finding you."

GOD I LOVE COMFORT SO MUCH and just so you know, every one of these kind of imagines is completely based on me <3 please i want friends if you relate talk to me!

[baocean]

make up - jj maybank

(gif credit to @devilsmenu)

jjmaybank x kook!reader

summary: after jj hooked up with your best friend, you wrote both of them off. it’d been easy to ignore the both of them, until you came face to face with him.

warnings: sex baby, spitting, swearing

you were sure there was nothing more that you hated than jj maybank.

you never give into the stereotypes of pogues vs kooks, but you couldn’t help but despise that blond pogue.

sitting on a couch at the random house party with your friends, you weren’t even sure why kooks and pogues tried to party together, it never ended well.

sarah cameron walked by with john b, hand in hand, sarah’s free hand waving at you as they passed.

mya, maria, and alex sat with you, talking amongst themselves as you stared at him over your drink.

his blond hair was in his face, shaking back and forth as he laughed. he was talking to one of his friends.

like he knew you were looking at him, his eyes flicked over to you.

you rolled your own. adverting your attention back to your friends, trying so desperately to not look back at him.

but you were done with him, for good. after he got with your best friend, even though you both agreed you weren’t going to hook up with other people, you cut them both off.

the entire island knew you hated jj and that he hated you, but behind closed doors, the quiet sweet nothings and hours wrapped in his sheets told different stories.

he had called you close to a hundred times, texted you twice as much.

you were done. so, you wouldn’t look back at him.

jj hadn’t been there for more than an hour before he was getting into a fight with some kook.

you got up to see what the commotion was about, groaning when you saw jj lay a punch on the guys face. so typical of him.

and somehow, he found you in the crowd, smirking like crazy at you, right before he got hit again.

you didn’t even flinch, because you’ve seen this jj too many times to count. the no good, nasty side of jj.

he spit blood, laughing as he grabbed the guys head and brought his knee up to hit him again.

the kook went down, not getting back up right away. a few people ran to check on him, you just stared at jj.

the arrogant smirk on his face dropped when he saw the look on your face. you turned and walked away.

you headed up the stairs to the second floor, looking for a bathroom to get some space from everyone.

“sweetheart, where you going?” his voice insighted something close to rage in you, motivating you to keep walking.

“don’t ignore me.” his voice was closer, much more demanding now.

it was hard to, even if you had been doing it this past week. everytime he texted you or called you, you wanted to answer. but he hurt you, so you wouldn’t.

“fuck off, jj.” your voice was harsh as you opened a door, finding an empty bedroom, deeming it good enough.

“oh, don’t be like that, sweetheart.” he cooed, a laugh following. you knew he’d walk into the bedroom with you, closing and locking the door.

“can you not take a hint? i don’t want to fucking talk to you.” you finally turned, almost surprised to see the state of his face. there was blood coming from his nose, a bruise already forming on his cheek, more blood coming from his mouth.

“don’t care. i want to talk to you.” he shrugged.

“well, you look like shit. let me fix you up first.” you shot at him, hoping it would falter him.

of course, it didn’t, not much did. “my girl gonna take care of me? how sweet.” he was so bitter, but so addictive.

“i’m not your girl. get that into your head. just can’t stand looking at you.” you gave him a mean smile, huffing as you walked into the connected bathroom.

he followed you in, watching as you fumbled around with things under the sink, grabbing a cotton pad and running it under the water.

“come here.” you words were laced with annoyance.

this happened too often. it’d only been a week since jj hooked up with your now ex best friend. you were still familiar with this scene. him coming to you, covered in bruises or blood. whether it be from his father or some random kook. he’d come find you, you’d take care of him.

“so bossy. just the way i like it, sweetheart.” he tittered. you wished you had some sort of alcohol instead of water, to sting his wounds.

ignoring him, you dabbed off the blood from his mouth, wiped away off his nose.

“you hate me now?” his demeanor dropped, looking at you in the way he only looked at you when he was really upset.

“always have, especially now.” throwing away the cotton pad, you went to wash your hands.

“i’m sorry.” he sighed.

“you’re not, you just want to hook up with me.” turning back to him, you shook your head, then laughed.

“i do, i won’t fucking lie. but i am sorry. miss my favorite girl.” he reached up to play with the ends of your hair.

“oh, who’s your second favorite? pia?” you laugh at him.

“look, that was a mistake. really, i fucked up. i know.”

“glad you figured that out.” you pat his shoulder, heading out of the bathroom.

“sweetheart, please. give me one more chance. i won’t mess it up, i won’t.” jj grabbed your arm, pleading with you.

you sat there for a second, contemplating. you hated jj, but you missed him. you hated being alone these past few days, after being so familiar with calling jj over.

“fine.” you rolled your eyes, not letting jj’s celebration affect your features.

he pulled you into a hug, before quickly drawing back and kissing you.

his hand came up from your waist to your face, gently rubbing your check with his thumb.

“i missed you, sweetheart. went a whole week without talking to my favorite girl.” his hand on your cheek slowly wandered down to your neck.

“make it up to me then, maybank.” you bit at him.

that was the confirmation he needed, and you were on the guest bed almost immediately.

his lips kissed down your neck, down your collarbone and shoulder.

his fingers fumbled with the straps of your top and bra, pulling them down together. his lips connected with your nipple, sending you shooting foward.

his left hand rolled your other nipple between his fingers, looking up at him through his lashes.

that was almost enough right there, screwing your eyes shut from the feeling.

he left you, your eyes popping open as you groaned. “sweetheart, i will treat you so good after this but i’ve waited a week to fuck you.”

you rolled your eyes as his fingertips dipped under your waitband and pulled your shorts down.

his rough hands ran over your thighs, giving you shivers.

“god, been thinking about this for days.” jj groaned. you were about to let out a sarcastic comment, but were cut off by jj pushing into you, bottoming out.

your hand flung to his bicep, mouth wide open. he steadied his pace, rapid and hard. his hand hooked under your leg, pulling it up to give him a better angle.

it was all so much, feeling him everywhere, because he was everywhere.

his free hand grabbed your chin, your eyes opening just in time to watch jj spit into your mouth. he smiled, tapping your cheek as he continued his pace.

“fuck j, so good.” was all you could manage.

he brought his hand up to your hair, caressing your head and pushing back your hair. he always did this. something so sweet and gentle as he fucked you so hard it would hurt in the morning.

with some force and a whole lot of strength, you flipped the both of you over. jj looked surprised at first, before quickly falling back in and grabbing your tits as you rode him.

your hands were on his chest, riding him hard, focusing on pleasuring yourself, not caring about jj.

you hit your high, crashing on top of him as you came, not being able to hold yourself up.

“fuck fuck sweetheart i’m gonna cum.” jj’s eyes closed, a sour face falling onto his features.

“go ‘head baby.” you cooed, his hands tightening around your hips. he came inside you, his moans filling the room.

he twitched underneath you. you held each other for a moment, before jj flipped you over again.

he kissed down your chest, stomach, down to your legs.

“what are you doing?” you questioned, your hand sliding through his hair.

“i told you id make it up to you,” jj snickered, his hands pushing your thighs apart, “so let me make it up to you.”

[therealcocoshady]

Hii

I lost my puppy recently, can you please write one where the reader is a bit depressed and Marshall gives her a puppy?

A/N : Hi Anon ! I’m so sorry about you losing your puppy ! I’m sending you tons of love 💕. I wrote a little something and I hope you like it !

Finding purpose 🐶

« I dont know, » you’d said in that monotone voice of yours. « I just feel like… there’s no purpose. I have no purpose ».

After weeks of beating around the bush, Marshall had finally confronted you, and your answer broke his heart. You were the most vibrant person he had ever met, so full of life and laughter. But in the past few months, he had seen you decaying. Your laugh, once his favorite sound, seemed like a distant memory and he couldn’t tell the last time he’d seen you actually smile, no matter how hard he tried. You had become withdrawn, distant. Sometimes, he would at you and he could see stare into the abyss, as if your mind was miles away. But every time he would ask what’s on your mind, you would shrug it off.

His first instinct was to blame himself. Maybe he’d taken you for granted. It wouldn’t be the first time after all. He was never really good at keeping his longtime girlfriends entertained, his workaholic nature often taking over. But his best efforts to win you over with impromptu date nights and presents seemed to be in vain. Then, he tried asking your friends, but no one seemed to know what was going on. As far as they knew, nothing had happened. You were doing ok at work. Your family was fine. And as far as they knew, you didn’t have beef with anyone. So it was kind of a mystery. But still, the facts were there : you kept on withdrawing, keeping people at a distance. You were once the life of the party, but you barely went out anymore. Even keeping up with your text messages proved to be difficult. Yet, everyone was getting increasingly worried. They could see the dim smiles, the dark circles, the weight fluctuation… They all tried to be subtle about it, not wanting to be insensitive or too harsh. Until Marshall decided enough was enough.

You had ghosted him for three days. No phone, no text. Nothing. When he showed up at your place, he was immediately taken aback by your gaunt face and hollow eyes. You weren’t alright and he was done being subtle about it. You were curled up on the couch, arms wrapped around your knees. You looked up as he let himself in, your eyes dull and tired. « Thank God I have your spare key » he sighed. « Otherwise, I would have called the cops to report you were missing ». You looked down, mumbling an apology. « We gotta talk » he declared in a voice that was a little sharper than he intended. You turned your head back to him, hough your eyes remained dull and distant. « About what? » you asked. He sighed and sat in the chair across you. « About you » he said. « About whatever’s been eating you alive for the past weeks. I’m tired of pretending like everything’s fine. You think I don’t notice ? You think I don’t see how different you’re acting ? »

Your jaw tightened and you looked away. « I’m fine, Marshall » you mumbled, though even you could tell how unconvincing you sounded. « Stop! » he snapped, his frustration evident. « You’re not fine. You’ve barely said more than five words to me in a day for the past three weeks! You don’t sleep. You don’t eat. You don’t smile. And I’m sick and tired of pretending like everything’s ok when it’s clearly not ». His voice was getting louder and louder, his tone sharp and cutthroat. You couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes and, for a second, you were pretty sure you were going to lash out at him. But instead, your face crumpled and you let out a shaky breath. « I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Marshall » you whispered, your voice cracking. « I don’t know. I just feel like… There’s no purpose. I have no purpose. Like nothing I do matters. I wake up, and I don’t see the point of getting up. No purpose ».

Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. He stood up and crossed the room in a few quick strides, taking a seat on the couch, right next to you. You tried to turn away but he gently grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. « Listen to me » he said, his voice low but steady. « You do have a purpose. You do matter. You matter to me. I don’t care what’s gong on in that beautiful head of yours, I’m not letting you drown in it. We’ll figure this out together. But you need to let me in and tell me how you’re feeling, babe ». You nodded, letting your tears spill over. « I don’t even know where to start » you quietly sobbed.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to anger in his embrace, instead of pushing him away after a couple of seconds. He held you against his chest, gently stroking your hair as you sobbed, letting out the storm that had been going on inside your mind, that was too much for you to put into words. You stayed like this for what felt like hours, Marshall never letting go of you, whispering sweet words of reassurance. « We just start here, Y/N. You and me. You’re not alone. I’m here. ». Eventually, exhaustion took over and you fell asleep, your head resting against his chest, your breath uneven but steady. But Marshall couldn’t follow suit. Your words kept on echoing in his mind. The way you said you don’t see the point of getting up, that you had no purpose… You had said it with such emptiness, like the thought had been carved into your very soul. He could see the pain, the suffering in your eyes. He could hear it in your voice. And he wished he could take it away, suffer in your place. All he wanted was to make you happy. You were the love of his life, a beautiful soul, and you deserved nothing but happiness. And he couldn’t sleep until he found a way to give it to you. Sadly, words wouldn’t do. He needed something more. Something real, tangible. Something that would bring back the light in your eyes.

And then, like a lightbulb flickering in the darkness, he had an idea.

The next day, your boyfriend found himself standing in the middle of an animal shelter. To say he was feeling out of his element would be the understatement of the year. He’d had a few pets in his day, but he had sworn off them a long time ago, arguing that they required too much work, too much energy. But maybe it was exactly what you needed. Something that would require work and energy, that would give you a reason to get out of bed. The sound of barking and meowing filled the air as he walked past rows pf cages. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for, but he knew he’d recognize it when he saw it. And he did. There was a small dog waddling inside one of the kennels, its stubbly legs moving unevenly. He had a misshapen ear that flopped to one side, a patchy coat that looked like it has seen better days and a back leg that didn’t quite work right. It wasn’t conventionally cute but it had the kind of charm that he knew would tug at your heart. He’d seen you at the market, picking up bruised apples and misshapen tomatoes, sad that nobody else would want them. He saw you pour your heart not the smallest things, believing they deserved love too. Hell, you had taken him in, of all people. That had to be the ultimate sign you didn’t mind things - or people - being a little broken.

He pointed the dog to the staff member that was with him. « That’s Ralph. This little guy came in a few months ago » she explained. « He’s got some mobility issues and… well, he’s not the first one people ask about but he’s a good one. Loves cuddles and, despite the leg thing, walks, too ». Marshall crouched down, holding his hand out. Ralph sniffed it tentatively, then licked his fingers before flopping over on its side, demanding belly rubs. Marshall laughed and indulged him. He could already picture you with him. « This is the one » he said with a smile.

When he got to your place, Ralph waddled awkwardly behind him, its tiny legs working double-time to keep up. He’d picked up a few essentials - a bed, food, a leash, a couple of toys - but he knew the dog wouldn’t need much to win you over. You were in the living room, curled up on the couch with a blanket around your shoulders. You looked up as Marshall walked in, your eyes tired but curious. « What’s going on? » you asked, your voice soft. Instead of answering, your boyfriend stepped aside, revealing the little dog, who waddled into view, its mismatched body moving with clumsy determination. You let out a gasp, sitting up straight as the dog barked once, a cheerful and awkward sound that definitely matched his appearance. « Marshall…? What…? » you whispered, hands flying to your mouth.

« I heard what you said, » he told you, his voice steady but gentle. « About not having a reason to get up in the morning. And I figured maybe this little guy could help with that. » He gestured to Ralph, who was now sniffing the corner of the coffee table. « He’s not perfect. He’s got a bum leg and kind of a funky look, but… I thought maybe you’d see him the way you see those lopsided peaches at the market. The ones you always say deserve love, even if no one else thinks so. » Tears filled your eyes, spilling over as you slid off the couch to kneel on the floor. The dog trotted over to you, tail wagging furiously, and licked at your hands. You laughed through your tears, scooping the little guy into your lap and cradling him like he was the most precious thing in the world.« He’s perfect, » you whispered, your voice trembling. « Absolutely perfect. » Marshall knelt beside you, watching as you showered your new friend with affection. « He’s yours, » he said. « And he’s gonna need you. You’ll have to help him get around sometimes, maybe even carry him when he’s having a rough day. But I thought… I thought you could take care of each other. »

You looked up at him, eyes filled with gratitude and something else—something that had been missing for too long. Hope. « Thank you, » you said, your voice thick with emotion. « I… I don’t even know what to say. » He gave you a smile and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. « You don’t have to say anything. Just get up tomorrow morning and love him. That’s it ».

[javiersprincess]

𝚩𝚬 𝐌𝐘…

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖ tags: written explictly for @prettyboykatsuki. south asian reader in mind. established relationship. age gap. fem presenting reader. nudity. set in rdr1 where reader is going with john to mexico. hint and joking of a daddy kink.

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖ synopsis: john marston in his older age only wants to be there for you whether you scowl or weep.

You and John arrive to a small dusty town just by the Mexican border, so small and remote it was just a saloon, a shop and few dusty buildings. You were dead tired and filthy - when John had brought up getting a bath and staying in the hotel above the saloon you didn’t make some sort snarky comment about how his old age is getting to him. You follow him on your white mare, frowning along the way as you think about how you’ll have to brush her out soon. You hitch her up out the front of the saloon and turn when you hear the whistle John sends your way, holding the swinging door of the establishment open for you.

“After you, my lady,” He comments grinning even while sweating and covered head to toe in dust from the ride. His eyes don’t leave your form even has he watches you walk past him, a glint them as he follows in falling step with your gait. You went straight to the bartender, eying the sign of how much it will cost to spend a room and night. When he’s finally behind you, your head had turned to look back at him and John can already hear how your voice will fret over how much it would cost you.

Which is why he beats you to the punch and drops just enough for one bath and one room. One for the two of you. The bartender raises his brow at the two you with a knowing look. When you turned to look at him, annoyance painting your face you are met with the same grin on John’s lips as he nudges his shoulder to yours while grabbing the keys to the room.

“What? You were so worried about the price, this is halving it right, sweetheart?” Your face twists into a scowl.

“You are an annoying man Mr. Marston.” You hiss stomping past him, making sure your shoulder hits his arm in a your little petty way of getting back at him. You hear his rickety laugh as he follows you up the stairs and he opens the door for you just like he did outside.

“Quit trying to be the gentleman - it doesn’t you.” You snip as you enter into the threshold of the room, hand working to off your layers to hang them somewhere to be shaken off later. John laughs again, dark and deep as he takes his hat off and works to do the same with his coat. From his place on the chair by the desk the hotel provides he asks you,

“What is it that you think suits me then?” He is taking off his gloves, head tilted to watch how you strip down your layers until you are only in your bloomers and chemise. You roll your eyes not sparing him a glance as make your way to the bathroom attached to the room to start the bath you are aching for.

“Probably a dog with how filthy you are.” You say, laughing around the bite of your words and John only laughs in return, calling out back as he takes his shirt off.

“Oh but I am your dog aren’t I, my sweet?” He hears your groan from his sweet talk and it only serves to make him laugh harder as he hears the water start to run. John chuckles with a soft shake of his head, ever so fond as he works the rest of his clothes off. His gun belt is thrown over the desk, along with his hat and gloves. He’s left only his union suit as he walks to the bathroom door, now filled with pleasantly soft orange lighting and steam. He can see you, resting your head against the lip of the tub, the water filled with soap studs. Your face is lax and flushed and you don’t notice him until you feel rough lips press a kiss to your cheek.

“You enjoying yourself?” John asks you, voice soft as the steam against your skin. You hum your affirmation, tilting so you can look at him. There is a faraway look in your eyes, something aching and tender yet and John asks you, honorably and carefully.

“What you thinking bout?” You don’t say anything at first, merely gazing at him before your eyes flicker to a small painting on the side of the wall where on faces when they sit in the tub. The painting was of a flowers -white with cool purple edging the ends of the petals sitting on a lily pad in the water. There written on the bottom end of the painting, in neat cursive read, “Nymphaea nouchali. Water Lily, India, 1899."

1899. The year still stings.

“You thinking about your folks?’ He asks and you allow yourself to lean closer to him, resting your soft cheek against his shoulder that is above the steaming bathwater.

“I try not to but - when I see stuff like that…it’s hard not to.” You have lost all your edges, soft and vulnerable before him. John knows, and he knows you know which is why you can let yourself be like this with him. Dropping the outer exterior that you wear like armor and letting him to take care of you when you need it most. He’s your dog, he’s your man - he is yours completely and utterly. He moves his hand so he can hold your chin his his palm gently, reverently.

His thumb strokes the skin of the chin lovingly.

“I know sweetheart, I know that loss well and true,” he turns to look back at the painting too. The numbers 1899 make the wounds in his heart ache. “I ain’t saying this to cover up what you feelin’ but you are not without family. You have me and the ranch - as long you will have us.” John speaks to you and every word is forged of the same iron his bullets are. Forged with fire and blood and the promise of their conviction. It makes you smile and you hope John doesn’t see the wateriness of your eyes as you nod.

“Besides, you’re in good hands,” He says something mischievous and sleazy in his eyes now that you have graced him with a smile, “You might not have your pa around but you still got your daddy with me don’t ya?”

Your smile drops and replaced with a similar scowl that gets sent his way day after day but he only chuckles deep in his chest as he watches you step out of the bath. You shout at him, telling him to shut up and get in the bath as you wrap the towel around yourself and head to get dressed. John strips away his last layer and steps into the now warm and tepid water. He doesn’t mind - his body warm with the deep flush he caught over your cheeks and the way you never said no to what he said.

[httpvomitello]

Oh great writer, write for me a request of the Rise turtles reacting to getting surprise kissed/booped on the nose (whatever you prefer) and my LIFE, is yours!!

Jokes take your time obvs and no rush! Love your work!!

AAAAAAAKHDKSBSKJS OMG, These kinds of comments make me so happy, seriously! You guys always have such good suggestions, that it makes me want to do everything at once. Anyway, I hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Unexpected Affection *⁠.⁠✧

Leo prided himself on being cool under pressure, but you? You always managed to throw him off his game.

It was a quiet night on the rooftops, the city buzzing faintly below. You had tagged along, keeping him company while the others were off in different parts of the city. As usual, he was trying to impress you, swinging his swords around in flashy movements.

“Pretty cool, right?” he said, grinning at you as he flourished his katana.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. “Hmm… yeah, I guess that was alright.”

Leo’s grin faltered for half a second before he dramatically clutched his chest. “Alright? That was the height of ninja excellence!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, stepping closer to him. “Alright, fearless leader, I’ll give you that.”

Before he could respond, you leaned in and kissed him right on the nose.

Leo froze, his swords clattering to the ground as his face turned bright red. “Wha—what was that?!”

You shrugged, trying to look innocent. “A little thanks for keeping me company.”

“I—you—you can’t just—” He sputtered, pointing at his nose. “You kissed me!”

“Is that a problem?” you teased, leaning in just a little closer.

Leo opened his mouth, then closed it, his brain clearly short-circuiting. Finally, he managed to croak, “Nope. No problem. Totally fine. Do that anytime.”

You grinned, patting his cheek. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

For the rest of the night, Leo was unusually quiet, and if his brothers noticed his red face when you returned, they were smart enough not to comment.

Raph wasn’t one for surprises. He liked to know what was coming, to protect his brothers and yourself too. So naturally, you loved catching him off guard.

The two of you were sparring in the lair, his massive frame towering over you as he carefully pulled his punches. “C’mon, Y/N, you gotta keep your guard up!” he said, smirking as you tried to land a punch.

“I am keeping my guard up,” you shot back, wiping sweat from your forehead.

“Not enough,” he teased, lunging toward you.

Instead of dodging, you stepped forward, catching him completely off guard as you reached up and booped him on the nose.

Raph blinked, stumbling back a step. “Did you just—”

“Boop,” you said, grinning as you tapped his nose again for good measure.

His face turned a deep shade of red, and for a moment, he looked utterly dumbfounded. Then he started to stutter, crossing his arms over his chest. “W-Why you... I m-mean... Why?”

“You were leaving yourself wide open,” you said innocently.

Raph sputtered, his blush creeping down his neck. “That’s not—ugh, this is a low blow.”

You laughed, patting his arm. “You love it.”

He grumbled something under his breath but didn’t push you away. And later, when he thought you weren’t looking, he touched his nose with a faint smile on his lips.

Donnie was in his element, tinkering with one of his many gadgets in the lab. You sat nearby, pretending to understand the stream of technobabble coming from him as he worked.

“So, by recalibrating the flux capacitor—”

“Pretty sure that’s from Back to the Future, Donnie,” you interrupted, smirking.

He paused, blinking at you over the rim of his glasses. “Uh, no, actually. This is a genuine flux capacitor. I created it myself.”

You couldn’t help but grin. He was so proud of his work, and you loved seeing him in his element. “Of course, you did, Don.”

He went back to his project, muttering to himself about the merits of his invention. You waited until he was fully focused, then leaned forward and kissed him gently on the nose.

Donnie stoped, his hand stilling mid-adjustment. His brain seemed to take a moment to catch up, and when it did, he turned to you with wide eyes. “Did you just… kiss me?”

“Yup,” you said, leaning back with a smug smile.

He blinked rapidly, his face slowly turning red as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “That was… unexpected.”

“Good unexpected or bad unexpected?” you asked, tilting your head.

“Good,” he said quickly, then seemed to realize how eager he sounded. “I mean, uh, it was… acceptable.”

“Acceptable?” you teased.

Donnie cleared his throat, turning back to his work in an attempt to hide his blush. “Don’t read too much into it, Y/N.”

But the way his hand kept drifting to his nose told you all you needed to know.

Mikey was always the one surprising you, so you figured it was time to turn the tables.

The two of you were in the kitchen, baking cookies—well, you were baking, and Mikey was mostly sneaking bites of dough when he thought you weren’t looking.

“Hey, hands off!” you said, smacking his wrist lightly as he reached for another scoop of dough.

“Aww, c’mon, Y/N, it’s a chef’s duty to taste-test!” he protested, grinning.

“You can taste-test once they’re baked,” you said firmly, rolling your eyes.

Mikey pouted, leaning dramatically against the counter. “You’re no fun.”

You laughed, shaking your head at his antics. Then, without warning, you leaned over and kissed him on the nose.

Mikey's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in surprise. “Did you just—”

“Yup,” you said, smirking as you went back to rolling out the dough.

He stood there for a moment, his brain clearly trying to process what had just happened. Then, a wide grin spread across his face, and he leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands.

“You do love me,” he said, his voice sing-song.

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head, Mikey.”

“Too late!” he said, laughing as he grabbed the dough and smeared a bit on your nose. “Now we’re even!”

You groaned, but you couldn’t help laughing as he darted out of reach, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.

And if he was extra cheerful for the rest of the night, no one commented on it.

[typewritingyip]

The Arcturus Missions

Part Four - Planetoid

Part Three

———

Adrenaline is one hell of a drug, it’s a direct part of the organics fight or flight response. Where the heart rate, respiratory rate, and blood pressure increase. It decreased the immediate ability to feel pain and practically enhanced one’s ability to fight. Most pilots were deemed in their compatibility testing to resort to fight, more often than flight, in response to an external threat. To face the action instead of turning tail and running off, it was something they’d either have to have or something they’d have to learn. To move with the punches, so to speak. For the mech pilots they’d learned fast that flight; would get them killed and fight was the right instinct to have.

One of the easiest ways for adrenaline to be produced is with the feeling of either fear or thrill, again that fight or flight response. Most people experience it on amusement park attractions or when participating in some sort of extreme activity like sky diving. Things that were significantly more popular before the invention of mech suits and long before the alien invasions. It wasn’t a terribly far off comparison, sky diving, as Hound and Sunstreaker fell through the lower atmosphere of the planet.

The suits were designed to survive exit and entry of different planetoids, thank you Preceptor, but even with that in mind they were supposed to remain attached to the Odyssey during that time. Not in free fall, but it was safer for the shuttle to only have two of the four mechs attached to it during a decent. Easier to maneuver into a safe decent and certainly a few hundred tons lighter than it would be. Starting at the ever approaching surface, over the comms it was mainly heavy breathing of someone forgetting to turn their microphone off. The fear was palpable over the frequency, even as the two mechs twisted in the air to slow their decent. It was entirely unlike anything they’d had to deal with before and that was terrifying.

“I need you all active on comms.” Breakdown sounded calm, certainly calmer than he had when the airlocks to the mechs unlocked, much more in his element on a collision course with an unknown entity then when the technology around him did things it wasn’t supposed to do, “Copy.” Hound could hardly respond, trying to right his mech for the crash landing, moving about to grab hold of Sunstreaker, he spoke up next; “Alright, this is just like the evacuation training, except we remain in the suits.” “Yeah, copy.” Sunstreaker’s voice didn’t waver, also calm. If there was something to be said about pilots, they needed to have a certain level of crazy to handle the job. Their hands clasped together and held tight, falling much faster than the shuttle, though that was experiencing its typical re-entry. Banking lightly to adjust for the airstreams in the atmosphere.

Scanning the planet, cause it was certainly large enough to be one on second look, there was possible inhabited areas both to their north and east, artificial lights shining in the distance. Hound kept hold of Sunstreaker, kicking lightly to turn them in the air, “Alright, we need to veer away from landing to our north or east, Breakdown you will need to bring the Odyssey down as safely as you can away from those sectors.” His visor was lightning up with readings coming in from outside his suit, it making the adjustments that were needed for proper functioning, “You don’t think those could actually be inhabited areas, right?” Sideswipe was still breathing heavy, less anxious now and more with effort. He’d moved around and was ensuring that Breakdown’s suit was staying secure to the Odyssey. With a sigh, Hound shakes his head a bit, “I have no idea, but it’s not something I want to crash into if it’s the case. Sunny and I are going to pull our shoots once we’re under a mile from the surface so they don’t shred. You and Breakdown are doing to be heading towards the north, so if you have to put it down before reaching the potentially inhabited space do so.” He was activating his safety measures, as was Sunstreaker.

“You two are dropping like stones, we’ll land miles apart.” Sideswipe was looking down and back at them now, re-securing his mech to the Odyssey, “Yeah, we are, so stay with the shuttle and we’ll meet you there.” Sunstreaker was the only one who could keep Sideswipe calm, his voice low and easy, “We’ll see you in a while, just don’t play your music over comms.” There was a quiet scoff, “You do that one time and you never hear the end of it.” Hound smiles a bit and looks to Sunstreaker, nodding his head slightly as they pull their shutes, the shuttle far ahead of them and still high in the sky.

—

Mission Control received the message after twenty minutes, smiling, before passing it onto NASA for their own logs. Sending a brief but detailed response, effectively hiding in plain sight the simple saying of ‘keep looking’. The boss stood at the back of the room, hands clasped behind his back with an award winning smiling, which only faded slightly when a minute later their coordinates and vital signs popped offline, but data was still coming through for a moment long before showing a incredibly long delay. A longer delay than Voyager’s, frowning, he leans back against the wall for a second, “Send for pilot 2672, he’s going to training. And loop the data for the nerds at NASA.” Several people go into action as he stands there, watching the response time of their message tick up to over a year.

—

They landed in what best can be described as a giant puddle, it wasn’t deep enough to be considered a lake nor was it moving to be considered a river or creek. The suits were quick to inform them that it wasn’t water either. Grabbing hold of the shoot, Hound was folding his up and trying to tuck it back into the compartment it opened out of, “It’s a one time use without the re-pack codes to override the locks.” Sunstreaker wasn’t folding his up, but staring at the sky, watching the shuttle as it disappeared into the distance. Swearing, Hound draped it over his shoulder before adjusting the comm frequency to open two separate lines, one with the shuttle and one for here on the ground, “Shuttle, we’ve landed, alert us of how far you reach.” “Copy Hound.” Breakdown’s voice was almost static with the growing distance between them.

Sharing a look before turning on their targeting and weapons systems, Hound’s gun folding out from a compartment in his thigh, hefting it into his hold with ease as Sunstreaker flipped plating back on his arms, “You ready for this kid?” To be honest, Hound had only seen footage of the twins fights, he was often deployed in the evening or night to handle things to close to communities for the governments liking. The twins were much more flashy and fought in the day time off the coasts of Florida primarily, “Born ready Sir.” Hound cringed lightly, “Don’t call me sir, for the love of god.” He could tell it brought a smile out of the grumpier of the two twins, who nodded at him before they started walking. Fluid that wasn’t water splashing lightly over their feet, “What do you think this stuff is Hound?” Sunstreaker looked to him and Hound shrugged lightly, “Waitinf for my systems to fully calibrate, once they have I can run some tests.” Nodding again, they fell in next to each other, following the streak in the sky towards wherever the Odyssey went.

Out of the four of them, these two were the most mentally prepared to trek across an alien planet, so to speak, they certainly had more kills than the other two and one had more experience than any of them. Their suits were well suited to the terrain and there was a higher level of mutual respect. Sunstreaker had come to Hound several times over the years, asking for advice in the fight, he supposedly used to go to Jazz and knew the two of them were relatively close. At least as close as two pilots could be without being related. Their bond was nothing special, but shared experience was one hell of a way to stay connected with someone. Hound had been in the fight for twice as long as the twins combined, it was hard to make it that long fighting the flying squids, but you just had to keep going. If it wasn’t you in the suit then it would be someone else, someone younger. Looking to Sunstreaker, Hound rests his free hand on his mech’s shoulder lightly, “We’ll catch up with them Kid, then we’ll find wherever the bastards are coming from, end this fight.” Sunstreaker stared for a long time before nodding, sighing, then looking down at his feet, “What ever this not-water is, I think it’s going to damage my paint job.” Laughter was one of the best ways to lighten the mood, and Sunny knew how to bring out the loudest laughter from Hound, he was bent over and shaking his head, “I didn’t put spare paint on my essentials list, did you?” “Yes, actually, I did.” Now they could both laugh as they walked across the hard and wet ground.

—

Landing a space shuttle was a great deal like landing a plane, only with a plane you didn’t have giant mechs attached to your sides, and usually you’d have a runway to land on. The other down side to this was Breakdown flew helicopters, not airplanes, least not usually. He certainly had more experience than Sideswipe, but less than Hound who just followed orders of being the first in his suit if shit were to hit the fan. Keeping the Odyseey steady was important, the most important thing, but all Breakdown really wanted to do was bail in his mech and say screw it to the shuttle, what good would it do them if they couldn’t get it back off the ground.

“Hey Breakdown, any word from Sunny and Hound?” Sideswipe, who was holding onto the outside of the shuttle watching this weird world fly by, was trying to sound calm. Biting his lip a bit, he checks over the comm system, “Uh, not since they landed Sideswipe. See anything interesting out there?” He wanted to redirect the thought process, focus on the mission, take the focus away from the worry, “Yeah, I think Hound was right about the artificial lights. I don’t know what it is, but there are a lot of them to the east.” His voice wavered slightly, breath shaking on the radio again, “Sideswipe, take a moment to focus on the mission. Right now we need to land safely, then we can worry about Hound and Sunstreaker.” He adjusts the tilt to the shuttle, sighing as it continues to descend. It was quiet for a few minutes as Sideswipe turns off his comm.

They sat in the silence, separate but together, facing an entirely unfamiliar world.

“Alright, I’m good. How long do you think till we land?” His voice was clear and nearly calm, good enough, “Just a few minutes, we’re descending fast. We’ll be about ten klicks or twelve from the others, hopefully by the time we land. They should be making up ground fast.” Breakdown was quick to start lowering the landing gear, flipping several switching and activating the distress beacon, in case there were any Earth scanners anywhere, anywhere. Traveling through space was fine, being teleported to the atmosphere of an unknown planet was not.

If there was such thing as a smooth landing for a mech pilot, Breakdown and Sideswipe would not know. The ground may appear to be smooth but it was just as bumpy as any bit of unpaved ground back home would be. Getting thrown around in their respective piloting chairs, thrown against the seatbelts, was unpleasant. Groaning, Breakdown sits back and rubs his back when they finally came to a stop before turning on the comm, “Hound, Sunstreaker, we’ve landed supposedly about twenty klicks north of you both. Thought it would be closer, going to do some diagnostics on the Odyssey and check the atmosphere for us, see you in a bit.” With a flick of a switch, he deactivates the comm. Standing back up, Breakdown goes into the main hold to start running the checks, turning off anything unnecessary now that they were out of space.

Sideswipe stood around outside and slightly away from the shuttle once he disconnected from it, scanning the horizon for Sunstreaker and Hound, trying not to worry. Chewing on his lip had become a bad habit when he’d had to give up his other vices to become compatible. The wait was killer.

—

For giant mechs, it still takes a while to walk a handful of miles, sure the strides are longer and you certainly are bigger than the normal person, but it still takes time. Breakdown was still running scans and checks, not really able to piece together whether the air on this planet was toxic or not, and the suits were running their normal life support protocols. There was enough air in a suit to last several days, plus the compressed canisters still aboard the shuttle, if they were on a toxic planet they could probably survive long enough to get a message out about it.

Sideswipe was impatience, as soon as the familiar yellow suit appeared even in the distance, he took off running towards him. They collided as if they’d been separated for days rather than a few hours. Hound shook his head and kept walking towards the shuttle, activating the comm, “Any update Breakdown?” Only a moment of pause was there, “No, anything change out there?” Hound sighs, “Not yet, but I don’t like it. If those are artificial lights, they should have seen us coming and been here by now.” It hung in the air, the unknown, “Wrap up the scans, we’re going to head towards them for checks before it gets dark. If it gets dark.” Rubbing his face, Hound looked around and in the general direction of what could be a town of some sort, “Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, I want you both to have your weapons out. If whatever took Jazz is here, I don’t want us to end up fighting an unknown enemy.” Sunstreaker looks over, “Or a whole lot of a familiar enemy Hound, they could have figured it out.” They paused before the twins started to prep their weapons.

“You boys keep your weapons up, Breakdown get to your suit and fall into attack formation DC-19. We’ll be back to the Odyssey shortly.” Hound had his gun up, it was a specially made item for his mech, experimental technology that seemed to hurt the aliens pretty well back home. Sunstreaker had long blade like bracers on the arms of his mech, along with more agility for advanced hand to hand work. Similarly, Sideswipe had one bracer and an extending sword on the other side. Hound’s feet slide slightly on the surface, it was much more slick that it initially appeared to be. Swearing under his breath, he rights himself and in turn his mech before looking over his shoulder, “We’re going to scout the immediate area and whenever their night cycle starts we will return to the Odyssey. Last thing we need is to get caught out in the dark.” Sighing slightly, he looks back around, as the last of his systems finally integrate and realign to him. When you were calibrated to a suit, it was meant to feel like a second skin, the suit of armor that you needed. For some pilots it felt like more than that. It felt like that for Hound, Sunstreaker, Sideswipe, and Breakdown. The twins had a similar reaction once their suits fully calibrated, both sighing deeply and rolling their shoulders in sync.

The landscape was entirely different from Earth, it didn’t even look like the images from Mars, it just was something entirely alien. Sideswipe whistles, looking this way and that, “Wow, have you ever seen some place like this?” Chuckling, Hound shrugs slightly, “Reminds me of Montana. Big sky country.” Coming back up to the shuttle, he waits as Breakdown’s mech gains its footing, only for a brief delay then, “We’re not in Kansas anymore.” Breakdown’s voice was filled with a mild amusement, which caused both twins to groan loudly, “You know, I hate cliches. That’s what we are right now, walking cliches.” “Oh come on, let the man have a little fun Sunny!” Sunstreaker shoves at Sideswipe, “You defending the cliche makes it worse.” They were hardly back together for five minutes before their bickering picked back up. Hound rubs his face with a deep sigh, “We need to move before it’s dark. I don’t want to leave the Odyssey any longer than we have to.” Shifting to stand straight, then adjusting his gun, the twins fall silent then fall in. Attack position DC-19 was designed for fighting aliens, specifically designed for when they would face a hoard of them with as few as two suits. Four was a rather generous amount to have together at one time on Earth.

Right now, they could be the only four on the whole planet as far as they knew. Hound lets out a shaky breath and starts to move north, the nearest section of artificial lighting was around seven klicks that way.

A light, near the comms terminal in the main bay of the Odyssey flashed with delayed messages, from over the last five years. Finally within range to be received.

The four of them started north together, Hound with his gun up and ready, Sunstreaker to his left with arms slightly raised as if to box, Sideswipe to his right with his sword extended down to his side, and Breakdown to the rear with his shoulder mount humming ominously, hammer swinging lightly at his side. Moving together in tandem and with purpose towards the populated sector, or potentially populated sector, to find answers. Their heart rates fell to a resting rhythm, breathing joining it, while their feet clanked lightly against the metallic ground. The adrenaline was finally starting to wear off and they all went from feeling unstoppable, to significantly slower than before, but to determined to stop.

———

A/N

More Tags! I am so happy people have been enjoying this as much as I have been enjoying writing it. The entire Mecha AU has been eating my brain and for something that I was BS-ing with my sister about to hit the pages for me was incredible. I love writing, I love seeing all your own tags when you re-blog it. It give me so much inspiration to keep writing.

Between now and when I get to part six, I might post stuff for Arcturus Two, since they will have their disconnect. But we’ll see how much time I have this week. Between thanksgiving and LSAT studying, this inspiration is not saving me much time.

Thank you to everyone who has liked my posts, especially thank you to those who have re-blogged both the series and the masterpost, I promise to get the links fixed soon, I’m doing this all on mobile so it loves to be a pain.

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch

And of course thank you @keferon for inspiring us all in this crazy AU. I have loved watching us all froth at the mouth for it.

[gabevargas]

The temperature of this kiss rose, Gabe smirking against her lips as he lost himself in her feel. Suddenly, a force pulled him from her, and his anger swelled, ready to shout at the person interrupting them.

However, he didn’t have time to protest before he saw a fist heading towards him. It happened so quickly but somehow in slow motion simultaneously. He blamed his slow reactions on his distracted mind — that damn perfume of hers — and alcohol. Before his mind could register the impending doom of the giant fist, it was already cracking hard against his jaw—the sound loud enough to be heard over the music as people nearby jumped back in horror. 

The strength knocked him to the floor, and Gabe blanked momentarily. The sounds of gasps and shouting made him come around, and he reached up to rub his jaw as a searing, hot pain spread all over. “What the fuck?” Brown eyes looked up, and the face that looked back at him brought even more pain. “Benny…” he whispered, holding his jaw. There was a ringing in his ears, confused and overwhelmed by it all. The two had previously shared fights as two young men growing up together, but it had never felt like this. Gabe was sitting in the middle of the floor, and a crowd circled him, whispering and snickering. He saw Benny’s expression soften, but rage burned in him, and he glared back at his friend. If it were anyone else, he would have jumped up and attacked them for sucker-punching him in front of everyone, but Gabe was frozen with anger, still sitting, chest pounding with emotion. How could he do this?

That’s when he saw the pretty brunette run after Benny, and for a few moments, Gabe felt something all too familiar. Abandonment. Loneliness. Yet again, he was the one left behind. The back of his throat suddenly burned, and he swallowed the hard lump, fighting back the threat of tears that pooled in his eyes. There was a heartbeat in his jaw that caused a moan of pain to slip from him, but he purposely rubbed the area and hissed. The pain of that was more tolerable than the pain of his best friend embarrassing him. 

Gabe attempted to stand up as Leyla returned, and he pulled himself away from her aggressively. He didn’t want her to touch him. “I’m fine!” He snapped, but then he looked at her and saw her body shaking. Gabe instantly felt terrible and softened, “Sorry… that just hurt like hell.” He forced out a chuckle, then clutched his jaw in pain. “Ow… yea, I think I’m going to have to get some ice…” He tried to smile, but that hurt, too. Nothing hurt like his bruised ego, but she was now just a reminder of that. “I’m sorry, I’m going to go deal with this,” he pointed to the red mark on his jaw, then shrugged. There wasn’t much more he could say without feeling like he might choke up, still upset about all of this. It didn’t help that everyone was staring at him, and for once, being the center of attention felt horrible. Gabe nodded, then moved into the crowd, trying to hide his shame. He needed a friend. He needed Enzo.

END

Climbing out of his car, Benny blows out smoke as he shuts the door behind him. He was running a bit late between costume changes and felt like Gabe was already moaning and groaning about his whereabouts. Not that he texted more than a couple times, but Benny was taking his sweet time preparing for a long night out. Placing the gold plastic crown on his head, he makes his way inside to find a sea of costumes before him, stomping out his cigarette before entering. It wasn't too cold outside, but there was a slight breeze, and Benny couldn't be thankful for it any more than now. He can already feel the heat radiating off of the people around him, catching sight of a few familiar faces already.

A shot tray passes him, and Benny decides it is probably good for him to take a shot before meeting up with Gabe. While he normally didn't plan to drink that much, he needed to loosen his gears to keep up with his best friend. Being with Gabe always took him back a few years, especially given his recent activity of playing dad— to a degree. What’s a little liquid courage to get him started? Benny shakes his head as he places the empty shot glass on a table, swishing his tongue around inside his mouth at the taste. Ugh. Lime. I need a lime.

Heading towards the bar, Benny moves through the crowd until he sees Gabe talking to someone. He can see the narrow gaze he's holding, bringing a smile to Benny's lips. He can always count on Gabe to keep himself busy, noting the Jason costume he was sporting. Making his way closer, Benny passes through a few more people before he recognizes the back of her head. He stops, the room falling still as he watches Gabe lean in and kiss her. He feels his stomach churn, his brows creasing as their bodies blend together, hands feverishly exploring as if they weren’t in public. He watches, feeling his stomach sink with every passing second. And then their bodies move, and Benny sees Leyla's face—her closed eyes and lips touching his more clearly.

Red. All Benny could see was red. As soon as he could comprehend that it was Leyla Gabe was kissing, Benny stopped thinking. He pushed through the crowd, eyes locked in on Gabe, and within a few seconds, he pulled them apart with great force. His fists balled into Gabe's flannel, yanking him a few steps to the side before pulling his arm back, bringing his inked fist to collide with Gabe's jaw. The crowd around them gathers, and people near them make room when they realize someone's on the floor. There are a few gasps, but Benny doesn't register their surroundings. Not as his daggers start to soften at the sight of his friend on the floor. Benny's jaw clenches. Shit. Feeling her gaze on him, Benny only tilts his head slightly to see her from his peripheral. He couldn't— he couldn't see the way she looked at him right now. He turns away, shielding himself from Leyla's reaction as he pushes through the crowd, the throbbing pain in his fists reminding him of his lack of self-control.

[joenns]

just finished reading fourth wing

[starlooove]

Making my vs siblings? More likely than u think

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

You decide to sleep on the couch after an argument

love and deepspace

characters: Zayne, Sylus (pt2 with Rafayel and Xavier here)

note: they might be a little mischaracterized so bear with me.

Zayne

Usually, arguments with Zayne don’t get this heated. There was no yelling, not on his part at least, but he could be really cold with his words when he wanted to be. Not that you were any better. Some things you said hurt him to no end. So you came up with a decision - to sleep on a couch tonight. To be honest, it was more because to be petty, than not wanting to spend a night beside him. You gathered your pillow and blanket and got comfortable on the couch, which made Zayne sigh out loud when he entered the room.

“What is this?”

You turned your back to him as an answer. Another sigh comes out of his mouth. He’s exhausted, physically and emotionally, and you acting like a brat doesn’t ease anything at all.

“I know you’re mad, dear but is this necessary?”

No answer.

“Alright”

He left the room and before you could convince yourself that you didn’t care he was back with a blanket of his own and took a seat in an armchair. You turn your head towards him in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“I guess we’re not sleeping in bed tonight”

“I’m not. You can go”

“I believe I didn’t stutter”

You scoffed and turned around again.

“suit yourself”

Minutes pass and sleep doesn’t come to you. Whether it’s because of an uncomfortable couch or an absence of his arms around you is hard to say, but after turning around thousands of times and still not being able to sleep is frustrating.

Finally, Zayne had enough of watching your struggle.

“How about we go to bed?”

“No” came your response after a second of hesitation. With a small amused smile on his face, he hovered over the couch.

“What do you say… I take you to bed and you can curse me out for it tomorrow?”

You shifted a little but didn’t answer, which made his smile widen. He gathered you in his arms and your lack of objection was all he needed to take you to your room and tucking you in bed. Even though you seemed to warm up he didn’t know how far he could push you, so kneeling beside the bed to be on your eye level he started:

“If you still need space I can-”

“Stay”

He smiled at you tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Okay”

He got up and kissed your forehead before slipping in beside you and pulling you closer.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter

"Shh, we'll talk about it tomorrow... but I'm sorry too"

You smile a little. You two will sort this out tomorrow.

Sylus

What Sylus says, goes around. His word is the law. This is what he’s used to. That's how it's always been.

Then you came into his life and even though he’s still in charge of how things go in the N109 zone, you just need to say the word and everything will be how you like it. No questions, no hesitation. He would give you the world if you so much as whispered the need. Whatever you want, whatever you need, he will make it happen.

Unless, when it comes to your safety. Now don’t get me wrong. Sylus knows you can defend yourself and then some. But when it comes to the N109 zone, there are things Sylus knows better than you. Additionally, The fact that you can be reckless in your battles does nothing to help ease his worries.

That was the reason for the heated argument tonight. Sylus with his harsh words and snarky remarks always finds a way to infuriate you. So you two go on and on for half an hour now and none of you seems to back down. You storm off to your room and take your things to get comfortable on the couch. However, on your way out Sylus blocks your way. He raises an eyebrow at the blanket and pillow in your arms.

“Now, what exactly do you think you are doing, sweetie?”

“move”

“I asked you a question”

“I’m not sleeping beside you- Sylus” you exclaim as he hoists you over his shoulder. you punch and scratch his back but to no avail.

“Careful with your claws, kitten”

He drops you on the bed climbing over you.

“Now listen, this is what will happen. You will stop acting like a wild kitten and sleep beside me. I am sorry for hurting you but we will discuss it tomorrow, when we are both a lot calmer. Understood?”

You don’t want to give in so easily. You also don’t want to sleep without him tonight. So you nod avoiding eye contact. He, however, doesn’t accept it and raises your chin with his finger to make you look at him.

“Use your words, sweetie”

“Yes”

“Splendid” He removed himself from you so you could get under the blanket. He laid beside you and pulled you closer so your head was resting on his chest.

"Sy... I'm sorry too"

"So I'm Sy now?"

This man.

"Nevermind, you're still a prick"

You try to remove his arm but he holds you tighter as he laughs.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, sweetie"

You felt him kiss the crown of your head as he caressed your shoulder with his thumb. you return to your previous position and listening to his heartbeat, sleep lured you in soon enough.

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (A bet with Simon about wearing a vibrator secretly and not to come in public)

A bet with Simon brought you to the predicament now. Squeezing through the crowded station’s concourse with his hand around you waist, looking like a normal couple, but no one knows there’s a remote controlled vibrator—designed to stimulate your g spot and have a little curve hooked snuggly against your clit—buzzing freely inside you.

Don’t come in 10 minutes, then you can do anything to him, his words ignited the competitive fire inside you.

The weather is cold, allow you to excuse your flush with it, hide your face in the scarf slightly when your moans sneak their way out.

“Only 3 minutes passed, sweetheart.” He leans down to murmur as he lead you across the concourse, the sultry tone disguised within, only able to get noticed by you. You shoot daggers back at him, try not to drop to your knees whenever someone accidentally bump into you in this packed station, making your thighs shifted in the force and the vibrator digs further into the sweet spot.

You meet his eyes behind his disposal mask and black cap, and you know the bastard is laughing at you from the crinkles at the corner of his eyes.

Your eyes are glossy with the tears from the constant stimulation, trying to threaten him with those bunny eyes but failed adorably. He can tell you’re teetering on the edge, and he’s been enjoying your fluster too much, his trousers straining behind the cover of his long coat. How can he not when you look absolutely cute like this, stopping between of your steps to forbear the orgasm, arms holding with his tighten and press your cheek against his bicep to stifle the whimpers.

You let out a sigh of relief when he dials down the intensity, look up at him with a hint of disbelief. The vibrations keeps sending shivers down your spine, your legs are doing their best to stay straight, but it’s much better than they were seconds before. So you give his hand a squeeze, resume the walk across the massive concourse.

The walk is torturous, every steps is worsening the divine ache between your legs. You didn’t like how the vibrator rutting into your sensitive clit, your panties isn’t soaked with all the juices and you’re not clenching that tight cunny under the onslaught of pleasure. You brainwash yourself repeatedly, the vibrations never cease, and you’re dancing on the edge even after Simon turned it down a few notches earlier. One minute left, just one minute…

Of course it won’t be that easy, he just wants to prolong your pleasure and get the show go on as long as it could, before finally breaking you.

Just as you two almost reach the main entrance of the station, you almost tripped when he abruptly changes the intensity once again. Covering your mouth and fully cling onto him, you’re totally speechless when he leads you to stand aside in the station, pulling you into his arms and coos lowly.

“Come for me, love, let it out.” His hand patting soothingly when you bury your face into his chest, muffling all the cries as you get pushed over the edge, gushing in your panties and you know it’s definitely ruined by now.

A few people spare a glance at your way, curious about what just happened before going on their life. Yet you’re totally unaware of it, trying to quiet your whines and you keep tucking yourself in his arms.

Simon adjusted his coat, enough to engulf you in it, and he keeps crooning sweet nothings into your ears “You’re so beautiful, so gorgeous when you came in my arms, love.” His voice soothing you along with his palm rubbing on your back, hiding you in his coat and shield you from the world, even though he’s the one bringing you the luscious torment.

Supported by his strong hands so you won’t fall to the ground with wobbly feet, you lift your head from his chest after your breaths slows down, and you manage not to punch him in the face when pat your head and remind you the truth.

“9 minutes 47 seconds, you didn’t make it to 10 minutes. what a shame.” Simon’s chest rumbles with the quiet laughters. You see the mischief in his rich brown eyes, and hell, he’s definitely thinking about how he will get you to do from losing the bet.

[mostly-imagines]

There’s A String Tied to My Lower Left Rib, Third From The Bottom

dick grayson x afab!reader

aka the professional boyfriend

warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader wears dresses, sexual content at the end (18+)

Dick Grayson is a vigilante. He’s a master martial artist and gymnast. He’s something of a playboy and a heavy flirt. But the claim he really takes pride in is that he’s basically a professional boyfriend. That he’s your professional boyfriend.

And pride really is the right word. He’s so proud that he gets to have this pretty girl on his arm and buy her pretty things even when you insist you have enough. He loves getting to help you take your makeup off when you’re too tired and make you laugh like it’s his job. He’s absolutely gratified that he gets to be your prodigal, sweet boyfriend that, despite your protests, insisted on carrying all five of your shopping bags for you.

You step over an uneven stretch in the sidewalk and lean slightly against Dick’s shoulder. “I’m worried the navy one is too…much.” You say, thinking back to how the blue cocktail dress fit on you, how it stopped barely below your ass.

He furrows his eyebrows with a pout, “Too much?”

You look over at him, matching his expression. “It’s really short. I mean it’s cute and I like it, but…I don’t know, this is kind of a fancy event isn’t it?” 

He puckers his lips, shaking his head. “Short’s good. I like short.” Yeah, you’d noticed with the way his eyes had been glued to the hem of your dress, willing it to slip up just a little more.

You laugh, “And I’m sure you and all the old businessmen will appreciate it greatly.”

His face drops at that, not thrilled at the prospect of those, usually very sleazy, old men getting to see so much of you. “The black one’s good too.”

You peer over into one of the bags, “Or there’s the red one with the—”

Dick shakes his head quickly, “Not red.”

You snicker at that, knowing full well what his problem is with it. “Then why did I get it?”

“Just for me.” He pauses, “Or for something my brother won’t be at.” He mumbles, scanning both sides of the street. He shuffles the bags in his right hand onto his forearm so he can take your hand in his as you step into the road. “No, the black one looked great on you. And we won’t have to go searching for a matching tie.” 

Once you reach the other side he lets go of your hand and he circles behind you, nudging you over to the inside of the sidewalk.

You glance down at the row of bags littering his arms and the red indents beginning to mark his skin. “Will you please let me hold some?” You frown.

“Will you please hold my hand?” He echoes, matching your serious tone with faux urgency of his own. You deadpan him but take his hand anyway. You don’t notice it, but he’s got a dedicated gaze focused on your fingers intertwined in his.

You continue on down the street, hand in hand, the warm sun shining on your necks. You pick up the pace a bit as you approach your apartment building, aiming to get the door for your boyfriend. You reach for the handle only for Dick to call out, “Don’t touch that!” followed by him clamoring like you’re about to touch a hot coal, rushing over to beat you to the punch.

“Oh my god..” you mumble to yourself, biting back a smile. The bags haphazardly fall further down his arms, no doubt uncomfortably as he pulls the door open for you, pretending to be far more eloquent than he actually was. He gestures you in and smiles sweetly at you when you give him a flat look. 

“What is wrong with you?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at him with amusement glittering across your face as you dig for your keys.

“Not a thing.” He grins, watching with adoration as you open the apartment door. Frankly, you’re surprised he didn’t attempt to juggle the bags and unlock the door himself.

He kicks the door shut behind him as you help slide the bags off of his wrists, piling them on the counter. “When do we need to leave?”

“Uh…” he glances at the wall clock, “Not till seven.” He places his hands nicely on your waist, looking down at your lips. “You wanna get something to eat before we go?”

You muse, “This is the one with those mini stakes, isn’t it?” He nods. “No, I wanna get my fill on those. Oh, and the bruschettas! I love these caterers.”

His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, a sly smile playing on his lips. 

You break away from his gaze and turn to the counter, preparing to scoop the shopping bags up when you’re interrupted by his relentless fervor.

“Ah, ah.” He hooks a finger into the loop of your jeans, tugging you back to him. “Give me a kiss.” 

“Dick.”

“Just one.” Yeah, right. You oblige him though, pushing up on your toes to meet his lips. His thumb strokes your cheek as he kisses you deeply. You break the kiss after a moment only for him to chase your lips to follow it up with another. And then another. And another. He hums against your lips, smiling wide. “Thank you, baby.”

You pull back again and smile as you stop his chest with your hand when he follows. “Ah, I’m not new around here. I know where this’ll go if I let you.”

He nods complaisantly, “Then let me.” His eyes are focused on the small space between you, where his touch lingers along your ring finger. You lean up again and place a kiss on his forehead that has him getting hopeful, only to be met with disappointment when you back away from him, bags in hand. He throws his head back with a groan just to really hammer home the severity of his dismay.  

It doesn’t last too long though because the second you’re back in the room he’s trailing after you like a puppy, following you down to the couch. You roll your eyes at him when he opts to sit ridiculously close to you, though there’s a ghost of a smile on your lips that makes your act lose all credibility.   

He nestles his face into the crook of your neck and is clearly very pleased when you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You exhale contentedly, resting your cheek against his head. You lie idle like that for a few minutes, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and casting a daydreaming gaze out the window. And apparently, he was daydreaming too. 

“I wanna marry you.” He murmurs into your neck after a while. 

You laugh incredulously, “Have you been drinking when I have my back turned?”

“‘M serious.” He nudges you off him so he can look at you.

You hum, sweeping his hair back from his forehead. “You’re being very…” you scrunch up your mouth to the side, “…Ostentatious today.” 

He barks out a laugh, “Wow. Word-A-Day teach you that one?”

You shove at his forehead back with no real force, biting back a giggle. His eyes flicker back and forth between your mouth and the crinkle in your eyes as he grins. “I’m going to let that one go because you got me some really nice clothes today. As your repayment.” you say, running your finger over his lips. 

He takes your hand, pressing a firm kiss to it. “Let me marry you?” 

You sigh bashfully, “Dick—”

“Please?” He sticks his bottom lip out and gives you his puppy eyes, causing you to avert your gaze quickly. You’re not convinced he doesn’t have a superpower in that area.

You know he’s not really proposing right now, he’s too much of a romantic to do it like this. He’s just getting the idea in your head, getting you excited about it. It’s working.

“I’d be such a good husband to you.” He kisses your collarbone, “So good.” He murmurs against your skin, lips never departing. You struggle to keep your face neutral, making a point of closing your eyes in an attempt to increase your odds of success. He’s being nice though, you know. To let you play pretend right now when you know he could break your facade in a second if he really wanted to.  

“Mrs. Grayson…” he squeezes your hips, lips traveling further down. “Doesn’t that sound pretty?”

It really does. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about marrying him before. He’s nothing if not husband material and honestly you really really want to hear him call you his wife. Call him your husband.

Your hand moves to his hair, petting it softly as he goes on. “Buy you a nice ring. Pretty white dress ‘n a big party just for you.” He brushes your shirt up and trails open mouthed kisses down your stomach. Your chest feels warm and you can feel your pulse thrumming all throughout your body.

He slowly guides your underwear down your thighs, his lips following the hem close behind. “Come home to you every night, kiss these pretty thighs,” He scoops both of your hands up in one of his, pinning them to your stomach. “Kiss this pretty pussy.” He places a chaste kiss on your clit and looks up at you expectantly.

You’re not nearly as hesitant on this as you’re pretending to be, and you both know it. But he’s perfectly fine with begging a little while you pretend you’re not lightheaded at the idea of marrying him. “I’ll think about it…” 

He grins at you before going in on your core without mercy.

He’s trying real hard to land that promotion.

🩵 reblogging = supporting; likes don’t do the job 🩵

[wyniepooh]

Loving him was never enough

you don’t have what logan needs, but he still takes all that he can.

Cage fighter!logan x reader. Mentions of violence. Porn with a little bit of plot. mdni; 18+

thinking about being logan’s plaything in his cage fighting days.

It’s not uncommon for the fighters to have a beautiful girl around their arms as they enter the ring, and though Logan usually resists against the fan girls who clamour around him in a frenzy, he figures a sweet thing like you could only do him some good.

Not only does it piss the other fighters off, (they hate to see the king of the cage also have a pretty girl like you beside him) turns out, you’re not half bad for company either.

You’re an anxious little thing, brows furrowed and eyes teary before every match. Logan doesn’t bother telling you that he’ll be fine, that he’s going to win guaranteed, that his punch is as hard as metal. Literally.

He hates to admit it, but he finds it endearing, the way you’re so worried for him. through his nonchalant front, he still wipes away your tears with his large hands before every match and reassures you, cooing, “I’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

When logan gets in the ring, the fight goes exactly as he expects it to go. The other guy is destroyed before logan even shows his true strength. In a spiteful and humiliating position, the fallen guy comments something like, “I’ll fuck your pretty girlfriend dumb.”

Logan hears, of course, and though the guy is already bleeding and sprawled over the mat on the ground in a pathetic display, and though logan definitely didn’t consider you his girlfriend, he throws the announcer to the side and pounces. Through gritted teeth and a bleeding forehead, he catches your eye, shaking his head lightly before knocking the other guy out.

You wait for him in the small public washroom afterwords, arms crossed and pouting. As Logan approaches the door and sees your stiff pacing around the room, he knows you’re mad. And he knows it won’t stay that way.

“‘was so worried, logan,” you practically run towards him, “why’d you have to go after him like that? he could’ve really hurt you.”

He scoffs and flashes you the fresh wad of cash. “Hurt me? Please.”

He stays still for as long as he can bear while you dab at the wound on his head with your sleeve, silently hoping you wouldn’t notice the red cut slowly healing by itself. When you try to touch his face, to run a finger down his cheek and his stubble, he grabs your wrist harshly to stop you.

You’re confused, confused as to why he allows you to trail along to his every fight and wipes your tears with such a gentle hand, but refuses to let you in. He doesn’t give you much time to think, though, because as soon as you part your lips to speak, he’s picking you up from under your arms and sitting you down on the cold sink counter.

there’s an aggressive desperation behind his kiss, probably produced by the adrenaline of the recent fight and triggered by the soft whine he heard from you when his teeth knocked against yours. His hand reaches down between your legs and drags your panties to the side, and before long, you’re biting his shoulder and mumbling, “‘gonna cum, logan, please, let me cum.”

He does, drawing out your short orgasm with a few more pumps of his fingers and a graze over your clit. When he’s done, you’re practically already numb, head limp on his shoulder as you hear the metal clinking of his belt.

“You want this?” He asks, holding your head up by your chin as he tilts his head and raises his brows. “You want me?”

You nod feverishly, half-lidded eyes flickering as you breathe, “yes, logan. need you.” Your head falls back against the mirror, and he looks down with a grin at the sight in front of him.

he hooks his arms around your knees to bring you closer before you take him to the hilt in one go, burying a mewl into his shoulder as you wrap your legs around his waist. The first thrust burns, always does, but only he can make you forget the pain in an instant. Soon, your hands are tangled in his hair, his beard is rubbing against your neck, and you’re begging, “please, lo, need it so bad. “ Logan fucks exactly like how he fights, thrusting into you so sharply your ass is sliding back on the metal counter with each movement of his hips.

He’s done this enough times to know what makes you whine and dig your fingernails into his back, but he still demands, every time, “that feel good, baby? you like that?” Of course, you don’t have to answer for him to know that it does, that it does feel good, so incredibly good, and that he’s hitting all the right spots in the body only he knows so well.

You aren’t the only one filling the room with lewd noises. Logan is panting too, the echoes of his each and every grunt reflecting off of every corner in the room and into your ear. It only makes your cheeks flush hotter, only encourages your hips to move more eagerly to match his pace.

It’s always when he’s just about there that Logan pulls back and looks down at where the two of you are connected, slowing down his strokes to slowly watch his bulging cock sink deep into your slopping cunt.

It’s the only opportunity with logan that you get to really look at him, to see the raw expression of euphoria on his face, teeth bared and mouth open. Some strands of previously gelled hair are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his eyes rolling back with each press of his pelvis. Your eyes trace the sweat on his shoulder, the hair on his chest peaking from behind his white wife-beater, and the vein on his stomach that connects to the one on his dick.

You gaze flickers back at his face, and you extend a hand to guide his head towards you. He tries to turn away, as usual, and you hate that you know he’s holding back; limiting the noises he’s making, the pace he’s taking.

“Just use me, Logan. I know you want to,” you plead against his lips, inhaling a gasp as you press your lips onto his. You expect him to pull away, to push your head to the side and focus on finishing the other task at hand, but this time, he only pulls you closer, one hand around your waist and the other on the back of your head. He doesn’t give you much time to be shocked before he resumes his previous pace, drilling into you with the same vigor, albeit a bit more sloppy than before.

Logan pulls back to catch his breath, and at the same time, you clench tightly around him. A low groan escapes him, a noise so animalistic and fervent that you reach your high right then and there, shrieking as your legs begin to shake.

He’s close too, you can feel it in his breathing, so you let him fuck you beyond your orgasm, even if it’s getting to be too much and you’re losing your thoughts by the second.

“nobody— ah— fucks my girlfriend,” he suddenly growls, lifting you up from under your arms and shoving you against the tiled wall. He squeezes your cheeks, forcing you to look into his hazel gaze as he spits, “n-nobody fucks you like I do.”

He plummets into you deep, leaning his lips in and making you swallow one last groan of his before you feel his warm release fill your insides.

When he’s done, Logan is supporting all your weight, your limp arms splayed around his sweaty back. You whimper at the emptiness as he pulls out, feeling his cum languidly drip down your inner thighs.

You’re too exhausted to realize what he just said, to react to what he just referred to you as, and as the fog of pleasure slowly unclouds Logan’s head, he’s glad he fucked you stupid enough to forget.

-

a/n: anyone else feel like they’re incapable of writing good smut? Hey Google how many other synonyms could there possibly be of the word ‘thrust’?