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sttoru · 4 months

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⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. bragging about your oh-so-perfect boyfriend to your friends certainly has its (welcomed) consequences. . .

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff & smut. p in v -> unprotected. missionary. sweet but also nasty and condescending. creampie. body worship. size difference / - kink. nicknames ‘(little) princess, baby’. name calling once. not proof read bcs im sleepy. wc. 2k+

“right! he’s so thoughtful,” you sigh dreamily as you chat with your friends over the phone. you’re laying on satoru’s bed, kicking your feet up while you remove your make-up. of course, you had to call your girls to tell them all about the little date you just had with your boyfriend.

satoru’s in the shower, so you’re taking the time to relive the experience.

“here she goes again y’all,” one of your friends sighs dramatically, to which the others follow with giggles of their own. they know that you can go on and on about your partner. they’ve heard all of it before.

you grin and roll your eyes, rubbing the cleansing wipe over your lips, removing the light pink gloss you had on. you’re all giddy as you recall what satoru has done and given to you this evening. you’ve been pampered—spoiled rotten.

“hey! don’t blame me,” you retort with a chuckle. your friends laugh and urge you to go on since they’re only joking. the stories you tell are always either adorable or heartwarming, and thus they’re happy to listen. plus, debriefing you on your love life is free entertainment.

it’s not unusual for you to stray from the main story. you ramble about the restaurant you’ve visited, the pretty green scenery you’ve walked past, the museum you’ve visited, the way satoru paid for everything and how he made sure to pick activities you’re interested.

you get an occasional ‘aww’ or ‘cuteee’ when you mention your boyfriend’s loving gestures. from the enormous bouquet of flowers he’s gotten you, to the fact that he carried you back into his apartment the moment you told him your feet were hurting.

walking in heels wasn’t the smart move you thought it was, though luckily you had a thoughtful lover by your side.

“he’s just so handsome ‘n stuff. god—“ you squeal, not even bothering to dampen your excitement. you hide your face behind your hands for a split second, gaining a few fan girling squeaks from your friends as well. they’re happy that you’re being treated like deserved.

you don’t hear the door of the bedroom open since you’re too busy gushing about satoru. you’re focused on your small pocket mirror, careful not to forget a spot on your face. you notice that your friends have gone quiet, but you don’t question it.

“his gentle personality is honestly such a turn-on,” you mumble as you rub off the concealer from under your eyes, “and his subtle yet possessive touches? phew, don’t get me started.” you continue to babble on about how hot satoru is when he gets mad, unable to point out a flaw.

you’re about to comment on your friends’ sudden silence when a hand lands on your shoulder. you freeze and finally make eye contact with no one other than satoru—hovering over you from behind. he’s smiling down at you and mumbles a quick, ‘hey, baby’, before kissing your forehead.

you try to explain the situation, yet have no idea where to start. you can hear a friend of yours snickering and another faintly whisper an ‘oh, girl. . .’

before you have the ability to get another word out, satoru cuts you off, waving at your front camera for a second. his smile reaches his eyes and his dimples show;

“hey ladies, mind if i steal my girl from you?” satoru asks as he puts an arm around you. he places his cheek against yours, awaiting an answer. your friends are left speechless at the sudden turn of events.

the white-haired man appears extremely good on screen. he’s basically blessing them with his handsome looks. the towel hanging over his head indicates that he just came out of a fresh shower. there’s a visible vein running down his neck—nearly bulging out of the skin—as if satoru’s holding himself back.

once your friends snap out of their daze, they greet satoru and nod, exchanging quick ‘see you later’s. your boyfriend thanks them with another one of his charming smiles. he waves at the camera again, “bye bye, thank you.”

the call ends and the bedroom falls quiet. you stare at your screen which fades to black, completely dumbfounded. you quickly sit up—your mind a chaotic mess full of thoughts.

“satoru, i uhm, i didn’t know—“ you attempt to form an explanation, though you realise that it’s likely futile. satoru’s probably heard every word that left your mouth. you look up at him, your voice a quiet whisper, “how much did you hear?”

the sorcerer grins. he’s so enamored with you; everything you do is adorable. he grabs your hands and holds then into his larger ones—thumbs gently rubbing your skin. he pulls them up to his lips so he could place chaste kisses on your knuckles.

“everything, princess,” satoru hums, rotating your hands to place kisses on the inside of your wrists. there’s a subtle blush on his cheeks that even reaches his ears. no matter how calm and collected he may seem, he’s still but a complete sucker to your love, “talking about me to your little friends, hm? how cute.”

a shiver runs down your spine. you feel your tummy turn as you’re slowly guided onto your back. multiple kisses cover your body—from head to toe—like a canvas getting painted on. satoru’s taking his sweet time, admiring the art that’s your physique.

every piece of clothing that comes off is a step closer to the grande revelation. the masterpiece that is you. moving from one empty spot - filling it with his kisses - to another. sighs of content leave your lover’s mouth with each reveal, as if he hasn’t seen the sight of your naked body before.

“does this turn you on, baby? my ‘subtle touches’?” satoru mutters against your breasts, remembering your earlier words. his blue eyes stare up at you through his white lashes. not wearing his blindfold may overstimulate him due to his abilities, but he’ll risk anything if it’s to admire you the best he can.

he chuckles when you nod. your boyfriend kisses your hard nipples—taking his time to swirl his tongue around both of them just to feel your back arch off the mattress. your hands holding onto him for life is extremely thrilling. “it turns me on too,” satoru confesses quietly. his slender fingers reach the hem of your panties, “you turn me on so fuckin’ much.”

your breath hitches when your underwear gets tossed somewhere across the room. you’re dripping, obviously. there’s no way you couldn’t get turned on by the way satoru’s been worshipping your entire being.

you can also see the effect you have on him; he’s sweating. the vein on his neck seems to grow more visible when your cunt is revealed to him.

“there she is,” satoru grins in satisfaction. he seems to be in a daze for a second before he regains composure. he looks at you for a quick check, needing to know if he has your consent before he continues. the moment you nod, your lover separates your legs.

you sniff and try to hide your embarrassed expression behind a hand. satoru’s quick to pin your wrist above your head so you wouldn’t have the chance to do any of that. “keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he leans in to place a swift kiss on your lips.

“mhm,” you nod after returning the peck. the white-haired man utters a small ‘thank you’ and undoes his sweatpants with his free hand. he fumbles with his boxers—unable to keep himself from trembling in pleasure from the view alone.

your small body underneath him is a sight he’ll never get tired of. that face of yours morphing into one of pleasure whenever you’re intimate is one of his favorite things to witness. thus why the missionary is his go to position.

“c’mon,” satoru kisses your cheek as he manages to pull his erected cock out of his underwear. it’s standing tall, the tip pointing right at the place it wants to be buried at—your wet, warm and inviting pussy, “you were so loud when talking with y’r friends ‘n now you’ve gone quiet on me.”

satoru pouts, “it’s not fair. i wanna hear my princess too.”

you almost choke on your spit because of how whiny yet demanding satoru sounds. you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, firmly holding your hand down above your head. you’re still flustered by the entire situation. you open your mouth as tears gather in your eyes, “i’m sorry, i’m jus— ngh!”

you can’t even get your words out. the lewd feeling of satoru rubbing his tip between your folds completely catches you off guard. he grins, as if he planned on doing that the moment you tried to speak. he’s such a tease.

“shh, shh, i know,” satoru coos mockingly, acting like he’s not doing it on purpose. you can’t blame the man; he’s been rock hard ever since he heard you praise him so openly through the phone. your lovely voice speaking so highly of him was driving him nuts.

you’re so appreciative for all he’s doing and it makes the sorcerer want to spoil you even more. to give you the love and affection you deserve because of how precious you are—even if you don’t realise it.

he wants to give you more. more, more, more.

without thinking, satoru pushes his cock right through your tight cunt. he shudders at the sight of your poor, small pussy struggling to take his fat dick. he can’t hurt you, he knows. especially with the amount of times the bulbous head of his cock nearly bruised your cervix.

though, it’s difficult not to go all out. you’re so accepting of everything he does—satoru can see that by the way your eyes stare at him. it’s all love. the light reflecting in your pupils makes them sparkle beautifully. he cusses under his breath, “y’re so pretty, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck. y’re making it so hard.”

satoru tries his best not to plunge his cock all the way to the hilt. he reaches halfway with each thrust, the thwacking sound increasing by the second. your legs automatically wrap around his waist and your fingers squeeze his.

“toruuu, fmhh, so big,” you babble, the drool forming in the corners of your lips threatening to drip down your chin. each soft yet firm thrust seems to resonate within you, evoking a sense of pleasurable contentment.

satoru lets out a haughty chuckle at the sight of you going cockdrunk already. he’s still trying to hold his urges back by focusing on your satisfaction alone. “i’ll give you something else to brag ‘bout to y’r friends,” he pants with a confident smirk, kissing your jawline as he ruts into you,

you’re embarrassed by your current predicament. despite that, you find yourself enjoying every consequence that your actions have caused. your moans echo in satoru’s ears, each slap of your bodies connecting sounding twice as loud.

his thick cock is stretching you out so well. your cunt is working overtime to make space for every inch. your boyfriend gently bites your bottom lip, his breath faltering when you clench around him in response.

“‘re ya gonna tell them?” satoru asks through a guttural moan. his hips move non-stop, aiming to please you until you lose your mind. he’ll live up to the expectations set no matter what. he kisses the swell of your breasts, “are ya gonna tell ‘em how you let your ‘lovely’ boyfriend fuck you like this? how y’re a complete slut for his cock?”

you don’t know how to react to his dirty talk. it’s getting you wetter, that’s for sure. your thighs shake around his waist and your tummy feels like it’s doing flips. satoru doesn’t leave it there, “gonna tell them about how good i fill you up, yeah? dirty little girl telling all her friends about our private life, tsk tsk.”

it’s overwhelming. the sudden increase in dirty talk makes you want to cum on spot. you feel like you’re being degraded, however satoru’s touches make you feel appreciated and loved. his hand holding yours above your head never leaves you—a sign that this is still him making love to you.

“am—am not gonna,” you hiccup. the words simply roll of your tongue without much thought. you’re mindlessly responding to your lover. “am not gonna tell them anything,” you continue before cutting yourself off with a string of whiny moans when satoru plays with your clit.

satoru shakes his head, increasing the pressure and speed in which he’s pumping into you. he loves the view of you being so helpless—succumbing to the pleasure he’s granting you. “sureeee, i believe you,” your boyfriend snickers and pushes his pulsing cock in further. his tone is soft but condescending, “i’ll trust my little princess to keep her mouth shut f’me.”

you’re getting so close. your nails dig into his skin and your noises get louder. you’re right on the edge of euphoria. the clit stimulation along with the feeling of being filled to the brim is enough to make you see stars.

satoru nods at your desperate whimpers that alarm him that you’re close to climax. “i got you, baby. cum f’me—i got you,” he places sloppy kisses all over your face and rams his cock in and out of you in a stronger rhythm. there’s nothing satoru wants to do in this world more than to flood your insides with his cum.

his cock doesn’t stop prodding at your sweet spots and it’s making you approach that peak; the peak of pleasure that’s going to push you over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover and he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “it’s okay, do it f’me,” satoru encourages you once again through a husky whisper.

you’re thankful that you have such an attentive partner. he can go from teasing you to comforting you and it’s the most reassuring thing ever. you’ve never had a man hold you so intimately while he’s balls deep into you.

“g’nna cum,” a strangled moan leaves your throat when you try to speak. your chests are pressed together and your heartbeats match—like the perfect pair you are. satoru feels his balls clench with an aching feeling, needing to release every last drop they have stored into your tiny cunt.

just thinking about the way you were bragging about him again, is enough. “take it—fuuuckk—take it all, baby,” the white-haired man takes a deep breath in and can’t help but bury his entire dick inside of you, that one last thrust making you yelp.

you reach your climaxes at the exact same time. your fluids mix as you feel satoru’s thick spurts of cum coat your insides a sticky white. your body spasms and your boyfriend instantly soothes you by rubbing your back. his own legs are trembling a little, but you’re far more important.

you don’t utter a word and simply focus on regaining your energy. all that you can say are incoherent babbles. “easy,” satoru kisses the corners of your eyes and relishes in the fact that he’s fucked you full of his cum. it’s a reminder of just how much he loves you.

a few encouraging words and hugs later and you’ve calmed down. you don’t fully grasp the reality of the situation until the adrenaline and other hormones drop down to a normal level.

you’re suddenly reminded by your previous words and this time, you succeed in hiding your face into the crook of satoru’s neck.

it’s certain that he’s greatly enjoyed overhearing you talk about him to your friends, but it’s still a somewhat embarrassing memory you wish to forget. “not a word, please. j-jus act like you haven’t heard anything,” you mumble quietly now that you’ve come down from your high.

satoru laughs softly. he can’t help but tease you after that—it’s a given. you’re still so caught up on what happened and it’s endearing.

however, satoru wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease you about your little comments. without pulling out, he tilts his head back and stares down at you with a faint grin, “do i have to act like i haven’t fucked you silly just now too?”

“satoru!”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x you #gojo x y/n

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tojipie · 10 months

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toji x crybaby reader <3

content: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, smut under the cut !

˚ ✧ ───────────

toji is a flawed man.

short-tempered, married to his money, slow to show affection. but the one thing he does excel at is comforting you.

he knows you’re a sensitive girl, knows just how easy it is for you to get teary-eyed and red in the face over comments that otherwise seem like nothing to the untrained ear.

you have a kind heart is all, too giving to a world that only knows how to take. he tells you that every time you break down in his arms, thick hands rubbing circles into the small of your back.

his father would have slapped him across the face for crying. called him soft, whiney like a girl. put him to work for the rest of the day to shape him into a man.

he wasn’t his father though, and you weren’t a zenin.

you were soft in the best way, tender-hearted and too trusting. a daisy among weeds, swaying idly in the too-strong wind. nothing like a zenin, nothing like him.

he hadn’t the faintest clue what to do the first time he’d seen you get upset, standing there in the kitchen like a fool while you babbled on the phone with his bank.

it was a fraudulent charge, small, maybe only 10 dollars. probably dropped his card while paying for gas again, not the end of the world. the customer service rep assured you that much.

it was the principal, you sobbed. you’d lost his card and hadn’t even noticed. why wasn’t he upset with you?

he doesn’t know why he didn’t just tell you it was okay. that he didn’t have it in him to ever be cross with you, be it a ten-dollar charge or a thousand-dollar charge.

instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling your body flush with his to press soft kisses to the crown of your head.

you were warm there, warm everywhere really. the thrum of your blood heating your skin from the inside out. toji liked that about you, how you offset the perpetual cold of his much larger hands.

physical touch was something he knew well. toji wasn’t—still isn’t good with words, opting to stay silent and just hold you while you sniffled into the receiver. he got the message across, he always does.

his methods are unorthodox for that very reason. he doesn’t comfort you with his tone, he does it with his body. whether it be thick arms squeezing you until you get your breathing under control, large hands tracing shapes into your tummy until you stop spluttering, or toned legs splaying wide to let you crawl into his lap, resting on him until your bodies reach the same temperature.

toji fucks you on your good days, likes to tease you, get you squirming. the key difference is that he makes sweet love to you on your bad ones. holding you flush to his chest while he rocks into you under the safety of your shared blankets.

you feel like a furnace under him every time, heat radiating off your body and into the deeper parts of his soul.

he gets mouthy once the feeling of you wrapped around him flicks that little switch in his brain. turning off the mental barrier between him and his inability to use his words.

“sweet girl,” is what he calls you, eyes never leaving yours.

“gotta stay close to me, gotta keep you safe, huh?”

and keep you safe he does, tucking your face into the curve of his neck so you don’t have to look anywhere but him. letting you moan, and pant, and sigh into his skin while he rocks against that special spot situated deep in your core.

he goes harder when you ask him to. not faster, but harder—he knows the difference, letting the resistance in his hips subside so he can sink to the hilt over and over.

the juxtaposition makes his head spin. how do you manage to sound so sweet while asking for something like that? able to melt his heart even on the brink of orgasm.

you kiss him when he fills you up, letting him sink on top of you with a huff and a shy laugh. he listens as you open up about the good parts of your day, his soft hums of agreement spurring you on.

toji wishes he was taught to articulate himself better. he’s trying, he really is. though the “i love you” he says into your skin seems like his best shot at a start.

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 4 months

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THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen! Little Sister! Reader prompt: When the small council plans to marry off once again, you turn to your older brother for help. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were the youngest and third daughter of Alicent and Viserys. A few months younger than Helaena and Aegon's little shadow in your childhood. Your older brother at first hated it, the way you cling onto him and gawk at him with an innocent awe.

It was your ninth name day, your Father had not paid much attention to it, but your Mother had ordered a celebration for it. You had trailed after him, babbling about nonsense as he tried to lose you. It was at dinner that night that everything had boiled over. Instead of receiving gifts, you had taken to giving everyone a gift.

He had not expected anything. He hadn't been the most kind to you. But was surprised when you had gifted him an embroidered cloth with Sunfyre on it. It was not the best and some threads were loose, but you proudly had told him you learned embroidery for him. Seeing those big doe eyes of yours his opinion changed. He adored you. You were the only one in the family that did not care about his worsening reputation. You just...adored your big brother, flaws and all.

It was why it killed him on your eleventh name day you were shipped off to the Reach, married off to a Lord as old as your Grandsire. He was haunted by your wails, of the way you clung onto Helaena and Aemond, the two of them wailing as Ser Cole carried you off to the carriage.

His young sister, the only one in the family who truly cared, was sold off like a piece of cattle. Not even your cold Grandsire was able to protest the marriage as politically it was a good match and good enough reasoning for the small council to approve it.

As years ticked by, you gave birth to two children, a stillborn daughter and a healthy son. Your husband kept you away in the Reach, so no one in your family had seen you since you were twelve and given birth to your only surviving son.

He remembered the look in your eyes, so void and almost dead. Of how you tried to stay positive. Saying, "Tis' not so bad. He mostly ignores me, except when he wishes to bed me. But even then tis' not so bad, he finishes quickly."

When he became King, he swiftly ordered you to return home, regardless of your husband's wishes. No one would take his baby sister away from him. Not whilst he was still alive and had the crown placed upon his head.

Watching you bounce your son on your lap, he attempts to pay some attention to the small council, but his eyes keep straying back to you. It was odd to think that you were now a Mother and all grown up. Snapping out of his little daze, he glances back at the small council, each member arguing intently. Furrowing his brows in confusion, Ser Criston slides a piece of parchment in front of him, an uncomfortable look on his face. Raising a brow at what he had just returned to, he glances at the parchment, reading the words quickly.

Your cunt of a husband was dead, finally croaked in his sleep. There was no reason for you to go back to the Reach. You could stay here in King’s Landing once more. Softly smiling at the good news, he goes to speak up when Lord Lannister stands up from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table. His face red from anger, his eyes wild like an untamable beast, and voice booming loud enough that it would make a dragon’s roar put to shame.

“To speak of the Princess in such a manner is dishonorable, I will see to it personally that your tongue is removed, Lord Wydle.”

“The girl is of age, she has proven she can bear heirs, healthy heirs. To not give her hand to another Lord would be foolish.”

“We need allies, the common folk are starving and soon the coin will run out. Surely as Master of Coin you can see reason, Lord Lannister.”

“Your grace, please, listen to reason we should⎯”

It takes a moment to realize what they had been discussing so intently. Then it clicks, they were speaking of having you remarry.

"What?" He whispers, his voice shaky and full of disbelief.

"No, Aegon, please don't make me do this again. Please." You whisper, tears building up in your eyes.

"It would be best to have your sister marry someone⎯"

"Think of the war, your grace⎯"

Seeing the tears building up in your eyes, it reminded him of all those years ago when you were whisked away to the Reach. Struggling to speak up and dismiss their suggestions, you kneel in front of his chair, gripping onto breeches as you beg and plead for clemency to their plans. Your son starts to wail on the other side of his chair, making motions with his hands to be picked up.

Feeling his heart break a little at the sight, he shifts his gaze from you then your wailing son then back to the small council. Everything is hectic and he doesn’t know who or what to focus his attention on. Does he console you? Does he tend to your wailing son? Does he handle the small council? Struggling to find his voice, he just stays frozen in his chair.

“Please, please, do not make me do this again, Aegon.” You beg, “I did what was asked of me before. Please do not ask this of me again.”

“We need allies, your grace. The Princess is still desired by many men, men who will look past her past marriage and son. Think of the kingdom⎯”

“Send treaties, then!”

“Please, Aegon. I ask as your sister, not a member of the Court. Please do not make me do this again. I do not wish to marry again. Please do not send me away again.” You beg, your voice cracking.

Watching as the tears begin to fall from your eyes, he clenches his jaw tightly, anger boiling up at the sight of you. His precious little sister, the one person in all of the Realm that he truly cared for, was crying by his small council's hand. Slamming his hands down hard on the table, the room goes deadly silent, minus the soft sniffles of you and your son.

“There will be no marrying off my sister! If you wish for such alliances as much as you claim, do offer your daughters instead, for I will not be doing the same to my sister nor my daughter.”

“Your grace, if you would just⎯”

“I am King, no?” He snaps back, “There will be no questioning of my decision. The matter is settled.”

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

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maxivstappen · 2 months

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THE GREATEST

[ part two / masterlist / requests are open ]

☽｡⋆ being in a relationship with a formula 1 driver like lando was hard, but not impossible. right? a story based on THE GREATEST by billie eilish. — lando norris x fem!reader

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst, swearing. i’ll write a part 2 if requested 𝄞 4.4k words

❝ I’m trying my best to keep you satisfied ❞

Loving a formula 1 driver, let alone being in a relationship with one, wasn’t easy. But that didn’t stop you. In fact, you were sure nothing was ever going to be able to get in between the love that Lando and you shared, the kisses and the late night cuddles, the fun family dinners and the celebrations of his milestones. Everything was so perfect.

Yes, sometimes it’s hard to meet his standards, sometimes having you leave your own family to go attend races with him, or the blatant flirting he would still be partaking in at after-race parties, it was definitely a flaw of your relationship, but maybe you should’ve just worn something prettier or done your makeup in a different way, in the end it’s your fault if his attention wasn’t keen on you, right?

But no matter what, you were ready to do it for him. He’s your main priority, just as he should be. That’s what makes a relationship a functioning one, doesn’t it?

❝ Let you get your rest while I stayed up all night ❞

Of course you weren’t always his main priority, but who were you to judge him? He’s a professional racing driver, it’s not only a job but a complete career, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in this world. Having a world championship under his belt, that was more important than you. You just have to live like that, someone had to put in the work for the relationship. And because it definitely wasn’t Lando, it was you. But you didn’t mind, you’d do it all over again for him. Because you truly loved him, and to you, there was nothing in this world stronger than love.

So when you both finally get home after a long race weekend, you don’t mind doing the cooking and cleaning and laundry for him. You also don’t mind him going to sleep while you’re up packing up luggage for him and you to depart for the next GP. You would’ve appreciated some skin contact after such a busy and nerve wrecking weekend, but if he needed rest, then he should have it. You could rest another time, maybe during the flight or while he was spending time with his friends. You weren’t sure why, but Lando always insisted on not having you with him, always making up excuses why you couldn’t come even if in reality, you were at “home” trying to get used to the new place you’d have to stay at for the next week. Maybe you would’ve preferred being with him, or having him with you, or being in your home country with your loved ones he was yet to meet, but that’s okay. He had his fun with his friends and their girlfriends, that’s what mattered.

Maybe he didn’t want you there because, while he dated a girl he’s known since forever, a girl who knew him before his win and his fame and his career, all the others were dating models and successful women. Maybe you embarrassed him a little bit, so you were understanding when he told you to stay at home. His fans didn’t exactly love you either, so actually, it was really thoughtful of him not to have you by his side when he went out, because then his fan base and the news wouldn’t be able to pick at every little flaw you had, which you had surprisingly lots of, as the media told you.

The clock read 5am when you finally finished packing up the luggage and went to bed yourself. Well, not the bed but rather the couch, because Lando had just previously told you not to wake him if he was already asleep, and who were you to rip him out of his peaceful slumber when he had so much pressure on him the last three days? It was a little cold, but that’s okay. It was just kinda difficult to fall asleep on the small, hard, uncomfortable couch.

The clock read 8am when you woke up to prepare breakfast for him and you.

❝ And you don’t wanna know how alone I’ve been ❞

You knew better than to complain. Of course you felt a little bit alone in the huge apartments while he was away, spending time at the track or in the gym with his friends. How could you not? You were in a country you’ve never been in before, a country with no familiar faces or friends or people you could talk to besides the McLaren team and well, your boyfriend. But in the end, Lando showed you the world. And you had to be grateful for that. Even if he basically just pushed you around the world and then picked you up again when it was time to travel farther. And god, how you missed your family. And how deeply you wanted them to meet your one and only love, Lando. It was sickening, the need to be at home again.

One time after a long day of qualifying, you told Lando about your homesickness and that you felt a bit alone on this journey.

He got mad and told you if you wanted, you could just leave. He’s not keeping you here. 20 minutes after, you were stood in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you. Your response to “Are you actually fucking crying right now?” was a quiet “I was just cutting onions.”

His reply to “I thought we were eating together, I made dinner” was “I’m going out to eat with Charles and his girlfriend.”

You felt your heart break in that second, but he was just mad and not thinking straight. Outbursts are okay sometimes.

❝ Let you come and go, whatever state I’m in ❞

You spent the whole evening and night crying, putting his food in the fridge in case he was hungry later. The tears didn’t stop until he came back through the door, obviously a bit tipsy. He quickly wrapped his arms around you and told you how sorry he was, telling you that next time, he would take you with him to dinner. You knew it wasn’t true, and he knew as well.

At least you felt his touch again, his arms around you and his rough fingers caressing your cheek. That was worth the tears and the unappreciated cooking.

❝ Man am I the greatest? My congratulations ❞

Miami GP ‘24. Lando’s first win in his Formula 1 career. You were the proudest girlfriend in the world and you couldn’t wait to celebrate his win with him tomorrow, knowing he’d be busy partying with the others today. You’re in Miami, after all. And he has just won. Of course he had to celebrate that with his boys, surrounded by beautiful women and loads of alcohol. He would never cheat on you, but you were sure he wouldn’t mind being in the presence of some women who were gifted with a prettier face and body than you were. That’s okay, at least he doesn’t use you for your looks.

As he stood there on the highest step of the podium, smiling like a little kid who had just fulfilled his dreams, smiling like he once had smiled at you, it made you so incredibly happy and emotional and you couldn’t wait to finally see him and give him a big celebration kiss.

Once he was back in the paddock he told you to wait until the cameras were gone. You didn’t get a hug either. Not until you were back in the apartment.

At last. you got your hug and a kiss. As a goodbye before he left with Max.

❝ All my love and patience, all my admiration ❞

The day after, you woke up at 7, waiting for him to wake up while you were already up in the kitchen, baking a small cake with a “one” on it, all decorated in orange.

Even if you were left unsatisfied yesterday, that didn’t stop you from still feeling eternally proud of him, and proud to be able to call yourself his girlfriend. He was so dedicated to the things he loved, it was a pleasure to watch him go through life with his determination. Racing was his passion, there’s no shame in sometimes forgetting your girlfriend for it.

He finally entered the kitchen at 12, smiling at the small cake placed upon the dining table. “Surprise!” You said, and he immediately went to hug and kiss you, smiling just as brightly as he did on that podium. Moments like these were a reminder that he did in fact love you, and once again, that it’s all worth it.

❝ All the times I waited for you to want me naked ❞

You often wondered how the others managed to keep up their relationships.

Just recently you were having lunch with the other WAGs at a restaurant near the circuit. Originally, you didn’t want to come, still feeling insecure about what the media has to say about you, the ugly duckling around the most beautiful women in F1 history. However, they insisted. At the table the girls began talking about the party after Lando’s win, and how proud you must’ve been to see him on that podium. You loved talking about it, until you were asked why you didn’t come with him to the party. A lame excuse of “I was just tired and not feeling well” made the others look at you weirdly. How could she be so selfish and miss her boyfriend’s afterparty for that? Alex, Charles’ girlfriend smiled at you with a knowing look, but you pretended not to notice, feeling embarrassed.

The next topic at the table was rather intimate, and you wanted to puke right then and there. Were you really the only one who hasn’t been touched in so long, because there just wasn’t enough time between all the travelling and racing and exhaustion? Or were you just not good enough? Was it really your looks? Should you change?

You missed it dearly, the intimate times with Lando. The ones where he finally took care of you instead of the other way around, the ones where you could feel the connection between you two with all your senses. Was it your fault that these times stopped? Lando was so perfect, it just couldn’t be his fault.

Maybe you just had to wait until he wanted you again.

❝ Made it all look painless, man, am I the greatest? ❞

You didn’t show your feelings often, not your real ones. The times he had catched you crying for him on you knees were pathetic little situations he shouldn’t have seen you in. When asked, you denied. “Do you feel lonely in this relationship?” — “No.” “Does he make you cry often?” — “No.” “Do you think your relationship is slowly breaking apart?” — “No.”

Talking about it with the women around the paddocks or when you’d facetime your friends from home, you never once said anything bad about Lando. Never once complained about how he treated you or how he ignored your feelings and your endeavors. Not even your closest friends knew what was really going on, or maybe, you just didn’t know that yourself. In your mind, this was just a phase where his career just made it impossible for him to focus on you. Someday this would change. Sooner or later, it would change.

For everyone else, you had the greatest, perfect, flawless relationship. And you didn’t mind keeping that imagine up. For his sake.

❝ Doing what’s right without a reward ❞

And so it kept going. You making efforts, him abandoning you. No matter what you did for him, no matter how much heart and love you put in for him, it was left unappreciated. But that‘s okay, still. You were in a relationship, your only task was to love him, and you did. Because that‘s the right thing to do in a relationship, and for him, you‘d do anything. No matter if he appreciated it or not at the moment, you knew that, eventually, he would.

❝ And we don‘t have to fight when it‘s not worth fighting for ❞

At least you hoped that he would change someday, so far he obviously hadn’t, and it was slowly getting to you in a more serious manner. In a way that might worry you and the people around you, in a way you wouldn‘t forget. That one time you prepared dinner for the both of you and he went out with Charles and Alex instead, it was all forgotten in a matter of seconds when he apologized. But now every single interaction he had with other women haunted you, asleep or awake. No apology would help you actually think he would change his current treatment towards you, and as it seemed, he didn‘t care either.

There was no point in fighting anymore, no point in telling him how you feel whenever he walks out the door, leaving you alone with nothing but your awful thoughts. For fuck‘s sake, you left all you had behind to be there for him, and how does he show his gratefulness? He doesn’t, because he isn’t fucking grateful, and he couldn’t care less about you and your dumb feelings. He doesn’t care that you want nothing more than to finally be able to introduce him to your family, he doesn’t care that you gave up your own career for his, and he doesn’t care that while he’s treating you the way he is, all the people who knew the both of you and basically the whole internet was only picking you apart. Never him.

Oh you were such a shitty girlfriend refusing to kiss him in front of the cameras after his first win, but wasn’t he the one who pushed you away? And how could you miss the party that night, the party dedicated to your oh soo perfect boyfriend? Do you not care about him enough? Were you not proud? So many girls would trade their life for a day in your shoes, and you just didn’t appreciate that? What a disappointment you are to the WAGs, and what a disappointment you must be to Lando.

“Lando please, listen to me,” — “No, I’m done with your insufferable complaining all the time. I meant it the first time I said it and I mean it now, if you wanna leave, leave.”

❝ And you don’t wanna know what I would’ve done, anything at all, worse than anyone ❞

You would’ve walked through fire for him to love you again. For everything to go back like it once was. When he would brag about you to his friends and even in interview, when he took you to hang out with his friends and to parties, always keeping an arm around your shoulders so other guys wouldn’t even dare to look at you, when he was so eager to fulfill not only his, but also your dreams, wether that be a simple one, like him meeting your parents in your childhood home, or the greater ones, like becoming not only a good, but a great graphic designer. When he would watch you draw and perfect yet the smallest details with nothing but the growing admiration for you visible in his eyes. When he would kiss you good night and good morning, when he would ask about your day and passionately tell you about his. Back to when he had loved you. But now it was too late. All the things you had done for him, all the things you would probably still do, in the end, were for nothing more than a broken heart.

The sleepless nights. The nerve wrecking days. The painful parting from your family and friends. The abandonment of the life with him you had so desperately wished for.

It was all for nothing.

❝ I loved you, and I still do. Just wanted passion from you, just wanted what I gave you ❞

Last day before the summer break, the last race. And probably, the last day of him and you.

You were done with his shit, the sad look on your face visible to everyone in the room as you sat and watched the race from the McLaren hospitality, his parents seated next to you. Something felt very off, your usual happy and optimistic demeanor completely washed off, replaced by a dark, almost expressionless look. They sensed that something might have happened between Lando and you, but nobody dared to ask, too busy watching the intense race.

The outcome was disappointing, Lando finishing behind Max, the one he’d have to beat to win the championship. The team and the people inside the paddock and the hospitality clapped for him and Oscar anyway, with Oscar finishing second and Lando fifth. You cheered and smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You knew what was to come once you’d be back in the hotel. You were scared, sure it would be the most painful thing you’d ever have to do, putting all the things you’d done for him, all the things he’d done to you, in its shadow.

The celebration went well, again, no hug or kiss for you. You were sure his mother had even scolded him for it, but that wasn’t important anymore. You didn’t really care anyway, the media would run their mouths about you anyway, and Lando surely doesn’t give a shit either way. You desperately needed an answer, you wanted him to explain it to you. What had suddenly happen, what did you do wrong, for him to suddenly act like this? And if he fell out of love, then why couldn’t he just tell you?

Meanwhile Lando was busy celebrating Oscar‘s podium, taking pictures for the McLaren instagram account and whatnot, then doing the post race interviews.

He loved you, he really did. But he just didn’t see you as someone he wanted to spend this life with. He couldn’t imagine living his private life without you by his side, he wanted you to come with him to visit his family at home, to come with him when he would meet up with Max and the others during summer break or really, he wanted to just do nothing with you, nothing but share small kisses and cuddling on his couch at home, eating some homemade food and drinking a glass of wine together. At the same time, he thought that you didn’t fit in. Not in this life.

You met when he wasn’t yet the person he is now. When he was still passionate about so many other things other than just racing. Of course this had always been a part of him, but so were you. And now its just racing that occupied his mind, no single corner in his head left for his girlfriend. He knew it hurt you, but at the same time, part of what the media had to say about you was true. The first season he had spent with you by his side, the internet was already raging about how you weren‘t the typical WAG, and how they thought seeing you next to someone like a Kelly Piquet, you did seem a little weird. Lando didn’t want to be confronted with these opinions anymore, so instead of standing up for you, he decided to ‘hide‘ you. To not put you in the center of attention after a race to hug and kiss you, to just let you stand there and wait until you were inside where no one could see you. He also avoided reading anything the internet had to say about you, so the fact that his plan had only made you gain more and more hate, went unnoticed. Just like your complaints when he didn’t want to be seen with you after races at parties or even in a restaurant for dinner with Charles and Alexandra. Of course they had invited the both of you, and not only him. Lando came up with an excuse so he the paparazzi wouldn’t see you. The rumor that Lando and you have broken up after he was seen at dinner alone didn‘t seem to bother him either, but it did you. He thought you liked it this way, as he thought, without any hate comments about your looks or the way you’d dress compared to the others. He thought you appreciated not having to dress up for parties or the countless hangouts with his friends. He thought you cried that night after he was out for dinner because you cooked for him and he just went out, not that you cried because you felt not good enough for him to want you to come with him.

He really was stupid enough to think you were happy with all of this.

And while he was happy to be able to finally spend his summer break with you and only you, it all came crashing down when you were back in your shared apartment. Tears were forming in his eyes while yours were already streaming down your face as you yelled at him, telling him every yet so small detail that left your heart crushed and broken while he was busy „hiding you“, or as he explained it to you, „protecting you.“ this wasn’t protection, this was blatant ignorance. And finally in this relationship, you did something for yourself. You left.

Maybe it was miscommunication, or him refusing to communicate at all. But that didn‘t matter now, ‘cause now, it was over. No more kisses, no more cuddles and no more meeting friends or families. But most importantly, no more crying, no more sleepless nights, no more unappreciated support, no more hiding.

❝ I waited and waited ❞

Finally at home, your family had expected to see you with Lando by your side, and they were so very excited to finally be able to meet the guy their lovely daughter was head over heels for, using every chance she had to gush over him and how unbelievably proud she was of him. So when you stood there with puffy eyes and all your luggage placed next to you, they knew the tears you cried weren’t happy tears from finally behind home again. They were tears from saying goodbye to the life you were ready to spend with your boyfriend, who was now on the other side of the world.

You knew it was stupid, but you couldn‘t help waiting for him to reach out to you again. A call or a message, hell, you hoped he was as miserable without you as you were without him so that maybe Max or even Oscar had to contact you again. Despite all the times he had hurt you, you missed him so dearly.

But after months and months of waiting, you decided that there was no use in waiting. It’s over, and its for the better, it has to be.

It was gonna be hard seeing him again, once the summer break is over. Even if the love between Lando and you ended, your love for Formula 1 didn’t, and you weren’t about to give that up just for the sake of not having to see him. You‘d be in the stands or in front of the TV, he‘d be in his car or in front of the camera. No point in worrying. But still, the first few races, you watched curled up next to your best friend and your parents from home. It was so nice to finally be able to see everyone again, everyone you had to miss all these months you were away. Your dad and you used to always watch races together, and you were more than grateful to finally be able to do exactly that again.

❝ Man am I the greatest? God, I hate it, all my love and patience – Unappreciated. You said your heart was jaded, you couldn’t even break it, I shouldn’t have to say it … ❞

His instagram and twitter definitely make it seem like your broken heart doesn’t match his perfectly fine one. He seemed happier than ever, having fun with his friends at parties and driving around different towns with different girls. Seeing him was draining, but how were you supposed to never hear about him again when the entire internet was screaming his name? You wanted your life to finally feel easier now, but it seemed to only get harder.

You felt you lost your soulmate, while he only lost his greatest burden.

It wasn’t until you watched the first race after the summer break with your dad that it all came flooding back to you. Lando crossed the finish line first, and as the camera switched to show him get out of his car and rip off his helmet to kiss his new girlfriend that looked weirdly similar to you, surrounded by loud cheers, clapping and ecstatic, smiling faces, you realize that maybe, he really didn’t love you. And that he didn’t *want* to kiss you after his races, because it seems that if he had wanted to, he would’ve.

At the same time, even while standing on the highest step of that podium, Lando couldn‘t help but think about you, how stupid he was to treat you like a piece of shit when all you wanted was to be there for him after races like this one and most importantly, why the hell no girl he‘s been with after your breakup felt even remotely close to you. You were the greatest thing he‘d ever had, no trophy, no price would ever compare, and he managed to take it all for granted.

If he had just put in a little more effort, really, you could’ve been the greatest .

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nezz-cringe-crib · 5 months

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growing up is realizing that dipcifica was actually a pretty damn good ship and holy shit i totally misjudged this pairing.

i never really liked dipcifica mainly because of how it got represented by the fandom, but looking back on it, it would've made a lot of sense and it would've been beneficial for both of them to date each other. and even in a completely platonic sense, their dynamic worked well enough that they could've done a lot more together.

dipper is a very nerdy awkward guy, clearly. he likes solving mysteries and sometimes he gets a little in over his head because of it. and his silly little awkward teenage love life reflects all of these things. that little shrimp was disney's #1 simp, it's actually insane. whenever he'd start to fall for a girl it'd end up going pretty terribly because he'd have no idea how to just act like himself and he'd also become a little bit of a jerk. (i'm not trying to like dog on dipper btw. he's just a kid and these are all understandable flaws, especially at his age and at the time period gravity falls took place in). however, with pacifica, a lot of these flaws are manageable solely because of how they're introduced to each other. dipper hates pacifica at first and wants nothing to do with her, but eventually they're forced to work together and realize "huh. we actually make a really good team." for dipper, this gradual building of a relationship is really beneficial to him. he wouldn't just go head-first into simping for some random girl and he'd also learn to respect her as a person and realize when he's being a little bit of a dick. being with pacifica, platonically or romantically (though personally i think romantically would strengthen their pros more but thats just my personal taste), would've helped dipper become a better person.

this goes for pacifica as well. pacifica's homelife is extremely controlling and it's what groomed her into becoming the mean girl that she's first presented as. as the show continues though, it's clear that she doesn't really want to be mean to anybody. she only acts spoiled because she doesn't know what else she can act like. she wants to connect to people but she's been so forced into this fake rich life that she has no idea how to be genuine with anybody. that's why her having a connection to dipper is so important. dipper is a little blunt, and he especially won't hide that from pacifica because he initially hates her and her family's lifestyle, so this'll eventually help pacifica realize "oh shit. i'm kind of a dick. my family are kind of huge dicks." and we do end up seeing this from her in "Northwest Mansion Mystery". she learns how to be herself, learns who "herself" even means, and learns to stand up for who she is when she figures that out. also pacifica's pretty damn smart???? especially socially???? she could absolutely help dipper do a lot of things when it comes to mystery solving, and with her status it'll most likely be things that dipper could never pull off and never even thought about because that's just what he's used to. they'd both end up learning a lot from each other because they'd be dragged into environments that they're not familiar with, but the other is. and their different perspectives/lifestyles would help the other view their environment in a new light.

not only is their relationship genuinely really beneficial to the both of them, but i also just know that their dialogue and scenes with each other would be so damn silly i can't not say yes to it anymore. i also just personally like headcanoning them both as bisexual so that's a plus for me.

anyways, tldr: i was wrong about dipcifica and its actually really good, i just think people should really analyze their relationship more since the way the fandom presents it (or how ive personally seen the fandom present it) is a little icky and shallow at least in my opinion. yay for dipcifica being silly little goobers :3

#gravity falls #analysis #dipper pines #pacifica northwest #dipcifica #nezz brainz

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cubffections · 5 months

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𑁥౿ 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒 — sunday.

۫ ּ 𓂅⋆ cw. nsfw, 18+ ! fem, sub! reader. office sex. use of nicknames ( he also calls u pup once :p ). possibly ooc ? :o js jealous mista sunday at the gala <3 ( 2.2 is finalli out ! had to drop hehe ! )

sunday, despite maintaining his nearly perfect persona, was a jealous man. it’s a flaw of his that he must clean up— he knows. trust me, he’s trying . .

“hello there, my pretty girl.”

he whispered in your ear, hoping his tone of voice was calmer than the raging thoughts racing inside his mind, because you see, this is him trying. if he had his way he would've swiftly tugged you away from the random attempting to make conversation with you. he truly does not know how much more he can take watching you chat and dance with so many disgusting men all in one night. though his rational side promptly reminds him it’s only natural you do so as his partner and co-host of this event.

“dearest !” you cheered, doing a quick nod to dismiss the man in front of you before turning to your beloved. “i was just wondering where you disappeared too, how could you leave me out here all alone ?” you pouted, cheeks puffed out as you glared at him. god, you just don't know how adorable you are, do you? even when you're berating him your eyes shone with love for him, and that alone was making this hard-on of his even more unbearable.

“my apologies darling, i’m afraid the crowd pulled us away from each other.” sunday mused, pulling you in close, strategically hiding the boner in his slacks from the view of others. he brushes off a stray hair strand off of your shoulder, the thought of it belonging to another man making his brows furrow. “i’m happy to have found you..”

“gosh, so am i ! all this socializing is sooo draining, y’know?” you spoke exasperated, soon going on about the fellow members of the family’s questioning on your career and the direction of you and sunday’s relationship. though to be honest, the winged man was too preoccupied by your lips to catch everything.

fuck, what flavor lip gloss did you have on today? strawberry? mint? peach, maybe? he couldn't help licking his lips in temptation, with half the mind to steal a hungry kiss. however he couldn't, not here where all eyes laid on you both.

after making up his mind, he was tuning back into your annoyed rant, nodding in agreement to whatever you last said. his fingers trailed down from your shoulders to caress the curves of your waist as he lowered his lips to your ear.

“well doll, how about we take a break away from all those problems . . how does that sound?”

the authoritative gaze of his amber eyes smiling down at you as he finally pressed you against the ache that's been begging to be made known the entire time. a look of realization flashes across your features before flushing into something more sensual and needy. finally, you're on the same page as him.

“don't make such a fuss sweetheart, you act like you haven't rode me before.” sunday commented. his honey eyes watched you struggle to sit on his cock, observing every squirm and weak complaints falling from your lips.

your cunt was stretched and soaked, taking him like you were made for this, so he couldn't comprehend why his angel was too afraid to bottom out completely.

“s-so b..big ! ‘s too much !” you squeaked, your eyes foggy and obviously cockdrunk. sunday couldn't help but click his tongue in disapproval since this was your punishment after all. your angelic presence drove him crazy all night but you couldn't do the simple task of sitting on his dick? unbelievable. perhaps he did spoil his angel a little too much.

a smirk plays on his lips as his fingers grips into your ass firmly, slamming you down immediately. he groaned out as you let out a high pitched squeal, his cock thrusting up into your maddening warmth at a quick pace. your breathy moans were soon becoming more choked and whiny as mindless babbles fell from your sweet lips.

“so— fuck,, 'so big' was it? but here you are, humping my cock like a needy pup.”

he grunted as the sound of his hips slapping into yours echoed through his office, catching your lips into a sloppy kiss. your mouths pressing into each other with a strong fervor for each other’s touch. his hands traveling around your bare skin to pull your perky nipples and massage on your clit as he pounded himself deeper into your pussy.

“pleasepleasepleas . . “ you wailed out, voice cracking as you felt yourself being engulfed even further by his cock. he was acting like such a bully the way he fucked into you, so fast and deep but would slow down everytime you neared the edge. soon your pretty eyes was staring down at him with tears threatening to fall. “sunday make me cum, d-don't be mean . .! m’ need it soo bad!” you sobbed, desperate for even a slight release, causing an amused huff from the perpetrator.

“oh dear, you really don't have a clue?” he grunted, faux sympathy laced in his words as he started his quick pace once more, rendering your ability to answer his question. your heated breaths were mixing and his cock filling you to the point where hearts were twinkling in each of your gazes as you made eye contact.

“your beloved is a jealous, jealous man.”

#ꪆ 、𝓈𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓉 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 . ꒱ྀི #still shocked m wrote tis . .#sunday smut #sunday x reader #sunday hsr #sunday honkai star rail #sunday x you #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr sunday

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frost-queen · 6 months

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My mortal flaw // part 2 (Reader x Zuko)

Requested by: @ficsmoothie Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya, @zhochikennugget

Summary: If there was one person you hated the most it was Commander Zhao. When Zhao kills the moon spirit, it takes a drastic toll on you. Being on the brink of dying in the arms of the fire prince. [ part 1 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6& part 7]

You felt the ominous atmosphere, the moment he stepped foot on the ship. A certain chill catching your bones. It wasn’t that chilly tonight, but you still shivered. The ominous approach of his footsteps. Heavy and hard on the ship’s deck. The ship had gone silent. Holding in a breath. All of the soldiers lined up. At the very end Zuko with you by his side. Iroh a bit behind Zuko’s right shoulder. You took a deep breath when he came in vision. Standing across on the other end.

A thick smirk on his face. His walk sturdy and a bit too much air. He never gave the soldiers any of his contact. His gaze was fixated on the prince and you. You let your gaze briefly shoot over to Zuko. His posture firm as you saw him brace himself. His chest slightly puffing up as he kept his hands behind his back. His expression emotionless. Turning your gaze back to the front, he was almost near.

He might have been a fire bender, but he gave you the chills. He came to a stop before Zuko and you. – “My prince.” – he addressed with a small bow, one hand on his chest. His gaze then shifted to you. – “Water princess.” – he spoke, making you almost roll your eyes at him. The way he showed it made it seem like he had little respect for you.

“Commander Zhao.” – Zuko spoke drawing his attention back to him. – “You will the address the princess formally.” – he insisted upon. Zhao forced his mouth to smile. – “Princess Y/n.” – he said bowing his head just a bit. – “Commander Zhao.” - you said bowing, hands holding your elbows inside your sleeves. A moment of silence fell, making you glance over at Zuko. Iroh cleared his throat. – “Shall we head inside Commander Zhao?” – Iroh offered, gesturing at the cabin.

Iroh took the lead, guiding Zhao inside. Zuko and you behind him. Zuko paused allowing you to enter first. You gave him a smile, showing him your gratitude. Zuko moved behind you, following you inside the cabin. You had come a long way since Kyoshi Island, but you weren’t fully there. Zuko’s walls had crumbled just a bit around you. Just enough to appreciate your presence more.

You didn’t expect him to cling onto you like dew to a flower. That he would be a totally different man or suddenly declare his love for you, if he even had that. No it was more an understanding. A common agreement on both parties. Nothing was going to chance this union.

Iroh and Zhao were already in the quarter when you walked in with Zuko. Zuko came standing by the map on the table. You went to Iroh, standing beside him. – “What news.” – Zuko started looking firmly at the map. Zhao cleared his throat. – “Perhaps the princess should leave the room.” – Zhao stated looking behind Zuko to you. Zuko lifted his head up, bringing his fingers closer to his palm on the table. – “The princess stays!” – he declared with a glare.

“My prince.” – Zhao started, his expression bitter like swallowing a sour apple down. – “All this talk of war, might not be something for a girl to attend.” - Zhao let out, clearing wanting you out of the room. – “Y/n stays!” – Zuko made clear, slamming his fist against the table. – “I have no secrets for her.” – he finished looking angered at Zhao. – “Is that so?” – Zhao spoke a hint of surprise in his voice. Perhaps some mockery too.

“Forgive me my prince, but I do not believe your princess would be an asset to the room.” – Zhao slipped out, looking rather foul at you. Zuko clenched his hand, getting frustrated with him. – “She stays!” – he outed loud.

It wasn’t hard to read the room. Commander Zhao disliked you for one reason only. The reason you were a water tribe girl. If you were a girl from the fire nation, he might have belittled you too, but with less grudge. You sighed soft, getting in motion. – “I’ll leave since you are insisting.” – you said making Zuko turn around to you. – “But…” – he started. He had been keeping his foot down, insisting on your presence in the room. So hearing you give up, confused him.

“I know when I am unwanted.” – you replied loud enough for Zhao to hear. Stepping up to Zuko, you wanted a private moment with him. – “Be firm.” – you whispered to him. Letting your gaze go from Zuko with admiration to Zhao with anger. Zuko swayed his head a bit to the side, moving his hand to yours.

“Stay…” – he whispered almost breathlessly when you slipped through his fingers, already leaving the room. Zuko’s gaze met up with Iroh. Commander Zhao to his back. Iroh showed Zuko to be strong, to not show emotion with a simple expression. Zuko took a deep breath before turning back to Zhao. – “Now let’s talk.” – he said firm, pressing his palms on the table.

You were on deck, hand under your chin as you let the water from the ocean move up and down with your hand. A stream of water getting stretched out from the ocean and back down. Just mindless bending to pass the time. Commander Zhao felt like a bad omen to you. You didn’t care much for the little respect he had towards you. You did care how he could subtly belittle Zuko.

Acting as if he was higher in rank and Zuko but a foot soldier. A part of you was glad you weren’t in that room with him. You hated looking at his stupid face. On the other hand, you wanted to be in that room to make sure he wouldn’t make Zuko a fool. Kyoshi Island made you look differently upon Zuko. With more respect as to say. It sure made the union between the two of you bond.

Something you never thought was possible. You’d always hoped Zuko would melt some walls down with you. At least enough for him to respect you and perhaps if you could dream for him to show affection in any way. Even if it meant the littlest of meanings. You wanted him to be happy with you, even though you were never his choice.

The water splashed down as you heard their voices. It made you turned around, standing up straight. Commander Zhao stomped towards the railing to leave your ship. Not seeing Iroh or Zuko near him, you rushed back inside. The door swung open as you were panting with worry. You only had to look at Zuko, knowing Zhao had gotten under his skin once more. – “What happened?” – you asked with concern, going over to Zuko.

You reached your hand out to his arm. Your fingers could touch his arm but for a second before he flipped his arm up. – “Get out!” – he shouted loud with anger. It startled you, but you staid. Zuko grunted loud, brazing. – “I was only…” – you began as he cut you off with blazing fire in the room. You felt the warmth tickle your skin. – “I don’t need your pathetic sympathy!” – Zuko answered rudely.

“Zuko!” – you shouted back getting up in his face. – “I am not Zhao!” – you grabbed him by his suit. – “Damn well remember that!” – your gaze staring coldly back at him. Your little outburst made him swallow in shock. Never had he seen you counterstrike so hard against him. You let go of him with a shove. Iroh was impressed by you, tempering Zuko’s temper so easily. Zuko blinked confused, calmed down in a matter of seconds.

Taking a deep breath, you calmed down as well. – “Don’t let Zhao get under your skin. He’s not worth it.” – you told Zuko. Zuko nodded. You wanted to leave again when Zuko grabbed for your wrist, making you stop. Startled, you looked down at his hand around your wrist. Your eyes met as Zuko looked away. His grip faltered as he let go of you.

He proceeded to do as if what he had done was of no significance. You bent through your knees as a curtsy to him before leaving the room once more. – “Don’t.” – Zuko said out loud. – “I wasn’t going to say anything.” – Iroh answered innocently. – “You were thinking it.” – Zuko added with a sigh. – “All I wish to say is don’t push her away nephew. You’ll regret it.” – Iroh replied wisely. He then bowed his head to Zuko, taking his leave. Iroh found you on the deck, asking if you wanted to join him for tea. You accepted, drinking some tea under the moonlight with him.

---------------------------------

“Remember your fire breath.” – Iroh said to Zuko. Zuko took a deep breath to show him. – “Princess Y/n.” – Iroh said making you nod determined at him. Iroh nodded back. You jumped off the railing into the water. Before your feet touched the water, it turned to ice underneath you. You whistled loud for Zuko to join you. He gave his uncle one last hug before he jumped over the railing too.

Landing hard on the ice platform, you had created. He sunk to his knees from the impact as you helped him up by his elbow. Taking a firm stand, you started swaying your hands around you. The ice platform got in motion as you bend the movement of the water. The ice platform making a way through the ice cold water to get to the Northern water tribe. Zuko had his fists up, ready to fire at anyone trying to attack. His gaze fell on you, seeing you bend the water so gracefully yet with strength.

Above your head you saw balls of fire being launched at the water tribe. Your hatred for Zhao, Admiral now, growing more. – “There is a secret entrance underneath the water.” – Zuko let out, keeping an eye out for it. You felt the movement of the water in your bones, feeling connected to it.

“There.” – you told him bending the platform over to it. The platform came to a stop as Zuko exhaled deep, a bit of flame coming out of his mouth. You came standing by his side. – “You don’t have to do this.” – he told you. – “Together.” – you reminded him holding your hand out to him. Zuko stared at your hand, then up to your warm smile. He clasped his hand in yours without a word. Both of you jumped into the water. The cold giving you a brief shock. You let go of Zuko’s hand underwater to swim. Dive and swim closer to the entrance.

Zuko emerged first, gasping loud for air. – “Y/n?” – he said looking around. You hadn’t emerged yet as he slightly started to panic. Your head came above, taking a soft breath. – “Here.” – you said as he sighed relieved. Zuko and you swam to the edge, having found a way into the Northern water tribe. Zuko helped you out of the water.

Your eye fell upon the moon high above. – “Y/n.” – Zuko called out waiting for you to join him. – “Y/n let’s go!” - he ordered seeing you waste time by staring at the moon. Hesitantly you came in motion, joining his side. – “I just want the Avatar.” – Zuko said to remind you. The two of you found a way outside. In shock, you stared at the chaos. Fire everywhere. The water tribe, your kin, fighting with every might against the roaring flames.

It pained your heart to see it come to this. Zhao had lost his mind. Zuko noticed you were captivated by it. He knew your heart would be bleeding from seeing this. He returned to you, grabbing you by your wrist. – “Don’t look.” – he said pulling you away. A ball of fire clashed into an ice structure above. It made some brocks of ice crumble down. You bended them away before they could crush Zuko and you.

Zuko gave you a complimenting look before going his way. You remained outside, making sure no one would follow him. The moon caught your eye again as you felt like it was trying to say something. A warning before the storm. It made you swallow nervously, unaware of what was happening down in the sacred pond.

“Zhao!” – Iroh called out with anger. – “Whatever you do to that spirit, I will unleash on you tenfold!” – Zhao laid on the ground, holding the moon spirit under his grip. He grinned, chuckling even. With trembling cheeks, he drove the blade into the moon spirit. The moon disappeared, leaving the world in a gloomy view.

You stood outside, gasping loud as suddenly the moon was gone. Your hands felt weird as you couldn’t bend anymore. Looking at your trembling hands, you couldn’t figure out what had happened. You gasped hearing fire benders come in sight. They pointed at you, firing a blast at you. Now defenceless, you couldn’t do much. You were able to deflect one or two from moving out of the way, but the third one hit you. A blast of fire hitting you in the chest.

The pain was excruciating as it send you down. It had knocked you off balance. Getting slowly up, your side felt heavily bruised. There was another blast as you couldn’t out run it. It made you cry out, falling back into the snow. Clutching your side, it felt wet. Looking at your hand, you saw it was blooded. – “Zu…Zuko…” – you forced out, dragging yourself forwards into the snow. You had lost sight of Zuko a while ago. You remained still, hoping they would presume you were dead and move on.

Trying hard not to tremble, you waited till the sounds died out. Although it wasn’t easy in this chaos. Water benders that could bend no more, falling down. Struck by fire. Your breathing became shallow as you forced yourself up. Knees weak as they could barely hold you up. Weakened and bleeding, you shuffled forwards, pushing yourself forwards. – “Zuko…Zuko…” – you would whisper in search for him.

Zuko panted loud as he came outside. His first reaction was to look around for you. – “Y/n?” – he said suddenly noticing the moon was gone. The world turned grim. He saw water benders around him try to bend with no success. His eyes widened, knowing it must happen to you as well. – “Y/n!” – he called out, running to look for you. You found your way to a bridge, shivering as you tried to keep your eyes open.

Another person came running towards you as it made you look. They came to a sudden stop in shock. Your expression hardened. – “Zhao!” – you said bitter. Zhao stared in shock at you, till he saw how weakened you were. He straightened his posture with a chuckle. You wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. Moving your hands forwards you expected him to be hit by water. Yet nothing came.

Remembering again, you turned your hand to you, shaking with realization. Zhao laughed loud at your vulnerability. – “What’s the matter princess, can’t bend?” – Zhao mocked. – “Don’t worry.” – he said taking a stand. – “I still can.” – he finished punching fire at you. The impact made you fall back, crying in pain. You pulled yourself back up with every might of you. You weren’t going to let him win easily.

“You can’t win from me.” – he said teasingly. You took a stand with buckling knees and trembling hands. The side of your dress already stained with blood. Zhao readied himself to fire at you again, when he got interrupted by another blast of fire. – “Zhao!” – turning your head a bit, you saw Zuko come in sight. – “You took everything from me!” – he shouted bending more fire at him. Zhao got knocked back.

Zuko put all his anger into his bending, overwhelming Zhao with fire. Zhao crawled up to the side of the bridge, leaning against it. Worn out. – “Zu…Zuko…” – you said, drawing his attention to you. Zuko’s eyes widened seeing the state of you. Your knees gave in, making you collapse. Zuko caught you before your body could hit the ground. Zhao wanted to get up as he got hit by fire, the wall of the bridge, collapsing as he got blasted through it.

Iroh had a murderous look in his eye, his hands still in position. Zuko looked with concern at you. – “How… who did…” – he asked looking at the blood on your dress. He placed his hand against your cheek, to stop you from trembling. – “Y/n.” – Zuko said, his gaze soft, eyes glossy. – “Y/n.” – he repeated when you weren’t giving him much reaction.

“Y/n.” – he said more desperate as the pain reflected in his eyes. He looked down at your chest, seeing it barely move, hinting your breathing was dimming out. – “No, no no no no, Y/n!” – he called out panicking. – “Y/n!” – his eyes teary now. He panted out a breath, desperate to get a reaction out of you. – “Y/n!” – he called out again, shaking your shoulder. – “No! no!” – he cried out followed by a scream of agony. Iroh lowered his head in respect, grieving for his nephew. – “Please… Y/n please… don’t leave me yet…” – he said letting his forehead lean against yours.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry Y/n.” – he sobbed out. – “Come back to me.” – his voice cracked a bit as a tear fell on your cheek. He shakily pressed his lips onto your forehead. – “I am not done with you. You still haven’t scolded me enough.” – he said in the hopes it would break a reaction out of you. – “Please Y/n… I…I… damn it!” – he cursed out. – “You cannot make me care for you and leave me like this!” – he outed in pain.

“So you care.” – you muttered weakly with a cough. Zuko’s eyes widened, looking down at you. You slowly opened your eyes, giving him a faint smile. Zuko grabbed your cheek, forcing his lips down on you. Your eyes widened more. His kiss was tender and soft. – “Look what you made me do Y/n.” – he said with a smile through his tears.

It made you chuckle out a laugh, only to be reminded of your pain once more. – “Uncle!” – Zuko called out. Iroh came running over, helping you up. Zuko picked you up in his arms, as you were still too weak to walk. – “We need to get to the ship now!” – he ordered. His uncle nodded firm. – “I’ll clear the way.” – he said not taking his task lightly.

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empyrangel · 7 months

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How are people really acting like the general consensus is that the Netflix atla series is decent or even good??

Zuko’s backstory and desire for familial love is brought in way too early so he doesn’t have time to actually be a ruthless and cruel villain. Y’know, the thing that’s essential to his killer redemption arc? Because god forbid characters be unlikable.

One of Sokka’s main flaws was completely removed because god forbid characters be unlikable. And he’s not funny!

Katara is watered down to being just a little girl, her mature and nurturing side is gone. Her anger at injustice is also gone because god forbid characters have flaws.

Aang doesn’t act like a kid. He doesn’t try to run from his responsibilities while simultaneously feeling guilty about running from his responsibilities. Because god forbid characters have flaws.

You know, I’m seeing pattern.

“Yeah all the characters are completely different from how they are in the original, and the acting is flat, and the writing is shit, and the world feels dead, and the pacing is terrible because they insist on smashing like 4 important episodes together at the same time, and some of the best moments were completely cut out, and those that were adapted got butchered, and Aang doesn’t really even learn waterbending during the water season, but it’s still pretty good. I mean the cgi looks nice and it’s not the Shyamalan movie.”

Oh wow they say his name right five out of five stars 🙄. Cmon are our standards really this low?

#traveler from another world ✨#avatar the last airbender #atla #netflix avatar #netflix atla #natla #live action atla

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butterflytint · 9 months

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pet names

Summary: jjk men and the pet names they keep for you

Pairings: jjk men x fem!reader (gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna)

Warnings: nsfw, sexual content, oral, missionary, doggy, riding

Satoru Gojo

Baby and princess. For one he loves spoiling you with lavish gifts and brand named items like the princess you are. He also enjoys taking care of you and calling you his.

His chest always swells with pride seeing his girl on her knees, drooling all over his cock that’s too big for her small mouth.

“Yeah, baby, just like that,” he coos, his fingers sifting through your hair, pulling it back so it doesn’t get in the way.

Or when he’s got you face down in the pillows and ass up as he’s ploughing into you at a pace so harsh it has you moaning at the top of your lungs. He leans in, smiling wickedly as he says in your ear, “My princess takes my cock so fucking well.”

Yeah, he’s a slut.

Suguru Geto

My love. I just know he’s so tender with the way he speaks to you. You can always tell from the gentility in his tone how much he truly cares for you and it always has you melting.

When you say his name, he’s all like, “Yes, my love?” A soft smile on his face, giving you his undivided attention as he’s prepared to also give you his life right then and there.

When he has you underneath him, he’s softly pushing the hair out of your eyes. His hips rock against yours and his dick is nestled deep inside you, dragging along your walls. Your gasping at the feeling of it, trying to hide your face by turning to the side.

He lightly chuckles, “No, love, look at me.”

He’ll slow his thrusts just so he can grab your jaw and have you face him. Once your eyes meet, he moves on to completely fuck your brains out in the most animalistic way.

Kento Nanami

Darling and Pretty girl. He’s just the perfect gentleman, it’s a fact.

He never stares too long, he never speaks aggressively, he’s always taking care of you like you’re something sacred.

When you call for him, he’ll raise his head, tearing his attention away from whatever book is in his hand. His brows raise all expectantly as he looks your way, “What is it, darling?”

And he has no idea what it does to you when you’re riding him and he’s murmuring into your ear, “You’re doing so well . . . my pretty girl.”

It leaves you clenching around him and whining like a whore. You relish the feeling of his hands on your waist, guiding you along the length of his cock.

The gentleman he is, he’ll let you go about it at your own pace until he considers helping you. His fingers dig into your waist and he stops your movements, breathing against your lips.

“I think you can take way more than that, darling.” Then he’s defiling you in a way that’s the complete opposite of gentlemanly.

Toji Fushiguro

Angel. There’s something about a big broody guy like him that sees you as some godsent drop of heaven.

He’s always viewed himself as a flawed man, someone that easily scared others. From his abrasive disposition and temperament to his rough appearance, he was completely threatening. But he was always a softy when it came to you—except for when he’s fucking you.

“Come on, angel, you can take it—good girl.”

He has you folded in a mating press, your knees pushed back to your chest as he sinks his cock into you. He sees you as this dainty little thing and it all the more encourages him to absolutely manhandle you.

In any state he’s ever seen you in, it’s always been angelic in his eyes. Breathy moans dripping from your lips—angelic. Eyes all glossy from tears—angelic. Sweat-sheened skin bathed in moonlight—angelic. So the nickname only seems fitting.

“Yes, angel, that’s it,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you lovingly on the lips, a stark contrast from the harsh thrusts of his hips.

Ryomen Sukuna

Bitch.

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cosycafune · 4 months

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FIRST TIME PARENT

Satoru’s a little confused with taking care of his daughter, but it’s his first time as a parent, so scrutiny isn’t something he’ll allow on himself. after all, everything’s a learning experience.

synopsis of acts: vomiting, cuddling, fluff, postpartum, first-time parents. satoru gojo, father au.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Satoru’s curious. Curious at the little, crying girl that’s biologically his own. Sure, he’s married to you, supported you through your pregnancy, but seeing the aftermath of your pregnancy left him with a whirlwind of thoughts. Protecting his little Aiko flooded his mind, as how can a little baby so precious adorn this flawed world.

Naturally, he couldn’t help put gently watch his slumbering newborn — before glancing back at a sleeping you in never ending awe. Awe he had once been too afraid to muster up before he had met and fallen in love with you. An irreversible fondness that continues to guide and coddles him consistently; Satoru loves you with all the might he takes to breathe.

However, he turns his gaze towards a crying Aiko — longing to soothe her to not wake you up. After all, you had just given birth and you’re awfully sore. Sore in a way Satoru doesn’t want to interrupt, even if it meant sacrificing everything of his willpower to put Aiko back to sleep again.

To him, all she had done was be adorable, be fed, go back to sleep and throw up on him. That’s all, but she’s still his precious first born daughter.

“‘Ko, let’s not wake mummy up,” Satoru softly murmurs, contrasting the erraticness of his daughter.

“Okay, I’ll pick you up,” Panicking, Satoru gently picks up Aiko — fitting her into the home of his arms.

Even as she harshly cried, Satoru couldn’t help but sit down within the fresh rocking chair. Within the rocking chair and placing her against his heartbeat, just so she would calm and be adjusted to his heartbeat.

After all, Satoru had consistently been doing skin-to-skin — paving a subtle path of familiarity for Aiko. If rendered exhausted, Satoru grew unwilling to care — prioritising you and Aiko’s beauty sleep over his own. As, to him, the two of you are the only perfect necessity to him.

You’re both angels, who deserve to be pampered effortlessly.

“Papa’s here now,” Satoru listens to Aiko begin to lighten, her tiny fist lazily propped against his peck.

Careful with his large hands, Satoru uses his free hand to comb through Aiko’s ivory and brown wisps of hair. Seeing her with his ivory hair warmed his eyes as she carried one of his rare characteristics, leaving a future thing for the two of them to bode over in the future.

“You look just like me, with a lot of mummy,” Treasuring the moment, Satoru slips into a smile, “Aiko Gojo, you’re just your daddy.” Tearing up, Satoru observes Aiko’s gentle cooing.

“Look how tiny you are,” In awe, Satoru’s heart is plentiful — completely adorned with everything he ever needs in life.

“Your first words will be papa!” Enthralled, Satoru’s enthusiastic shouts are followed up with Aiko throwing up milk on his chest.

“That’s what you get for scheming, Sato’,” Chuckling, you capture the blown kiss that Satoru gifts you.

“Now I get to spend a little less time with her and you,” Pouting, Satoru’s whiny point are soothed by an exhausted you — who groggily glimpses at him.

“If you get here in less than five minutes, we can cuddle!” Exhilarant, you propose your arrangement — only for Satoru to be gone before you could blink again.

Well, at least he had cleaned Aiko up and settled her comfortably down.

Satoru’s a good first time parent, even if there was still so much to learn.

What isn’t he good at?

#gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru fluff #jujutsu satoru #satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jjk fanfic #jujustu gojo #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk satoru #satoru x reader #gojo father au #imagine #cosycafune

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onyourhyuck · 8 months

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EXCHANGE LESSONS | L.MK

Pairing: mark lee x fem!oc

Summary: You’re the top student in every subject and your classmate!mark asks for your help in science and you offer the unprecedented exchange lessons that leave him off guard.

genre: smut, tutoring, classmates, inexperienced female oc, the concept of virginity being taken (it’s a social construct but you get it) and dominant!mark. minor groping, pussy eating and penetrating sex. Releasing on stomach, unprotected sex (please use a condom irl)

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You’re at the top of the food chain in every subject. Your desolated heart and effortless mind astounds the entire community around you. Since you’re such a smart and passionate individual, people doubt you have any flaws.

But that’s not so true. You do suck at one subject; Sex. Your body and mind leave your soul every moment you tried doing the most remote action like making out — you suck at it.

Perhaps it’s because you’re not comfortable enough with the person? Or maybe the idea of being sexually active is a new concept to you. This puts you at a frustrating disadvantage. You want to experience what it is like to be held by another person, to be worshipped and loved by every curve you have. You really want to experience intimacy. Someone’s hands holding your waist with fingers scrolling circles on your bare skin. Dancing out in heavy rain? Angry makeouts. Jealousy. You want to experience those rollercoasters of emotions. But you can’t because you’re missing the second person. This was no way a one man action.

That was until an opportunity arises. The boy in your class that wasn’t so good at any of his classes, barely scraping by. He had a thick foreign accent - and he never stops boosting about how he’s from Canada. He was visibly attractive. Most girls in your class fancy him.

Mark never really spent his day alone. Ever. There will always be people surrounding him. It’s like this was his world and we’re all just living in it you know?

“Hey Y/n,” A voice strikes up from behind. The boy standing only few inches from your height with a beige cap on backwards. It gave him a real bandboyish look today.

Your eyes dart to him. At first you look visibly confused but you manage to respond with a very soft greet. “Hey what’s up?”

You guys barely talk so this was all very new. The most talks you ever did was a simple ‘good morning’ to each other and never speak again. In fact this felt very awkward on your end.

Mark’s eyes look on the very left end of the lockers. The built tone body wearing these very baggy clothing press up on the metallic doors. Voice trailing off in an obvious direction. “Uhh, you know nothin’ much. The usual you know how it is.”

‘Yikes why does he look suddenly so guilty and suspicious?’ You question in your own mind. What was this strange feeling in your stomach? Like a hollow pit about to explode.

You mumbles quietly. “Right…”

Turning around your locker slams shut. The stuff you needed was carried by your arms. You thought this conversation had ended considering Mark wasn’t spitting out anything he wanted to say but the moment your back had turned on him, the boy quickly leaps in front of your path.

“Wait!” Mark stops you with two hands urgently.

You stop now with a small shock spread on your eyebrows and a visible streak of annoyance in your eyes.

“Tutor me! I want you to tutor me,” Mark said with a little pant to those syllables he stressed out with a stretch. Those hands come down and it really looks like for a moment he was embarrassed to ask. As if he had no idea how to ask you.

That’s all he wanted from you. It was a tutoring lesson so he could boost his grade up. Because lord knows he needs a good number. Otherwise he is finished with this class.

Your eyes line themselves on the boy. “You want me to tutor you?” You repeated back, Mark gave a simple nod. “Why me? You could have asked someone else.”

He furrows those eyebrows. “You seem- cool enough.” Mark then paused and panicked. Your expression seems unhappy by that anticlimactic response. “I mean! Your notes are cool and easy to understand. You explain things well.”

Well that came out wrong, what he wanted to say is you’re cool enough and you’re the smartest in the class. He doesn’t think he ever saw you get a bad grade.

Deep in your heart you couldn’t say no. Mark seems to be desperate for your help and you technically had an alternative motive. As bad as that sounds you can actually imagine losing your first deed to Mark. He was handsome, without a doubt you maybe fantasised getting off to him before. You don’t want to admit it but you did it more than once.

He was the new boy, wild and bright. Radiant and sweet. He was respectful, popular with everyone he hardly has any enemies. No one could hate a guy like Mark. He was a foreign exchange student from Canada and what more, he was an amazing soccer player last year. He won for your school club a trophy. He’s done pretty remarkable things.

Except his classes, which he severely needs your help with.

Sitting down in your bedroom, you constantly glance over to Mark who was sitting on the other end of your bed writing down on his notebook. To which your mind was at a war between asking him if he wants to do something else or if you should leave your stupid idea behind.

You are lost on how to approach the idea to him. You can’t just say ‘Hey let’s sleep together!’ And look like a sane person. Because that’s the opposite of normal. You barely know the guy too.

Your body lifts up your sweater and you nervously laugh it off. “Ahh it’s so hot, right? I should take this off.” Your hands pull off the warm fabric off your limbs and Mark looks up from his notes to glance at you. He looks at you for good three seconds.

The good look on your visible black tank top and cleavage exposing caught his eye but not enough for him to grasp your intentions. Instead Mark continues his work like the champ he was. Unbothered and gullible.

“Yeah? I feel normal.” Mark relies obliviously. You furrow your eyebrows and feel your stomach clench. Why was it so hard to ask Mark to have sex with you? It’s like the most difficult question for you.

And you never struggled with math questions before. You can’t believe it. Why was a simple risky move harder than school work.

He went back to doing his work. Thankfully you’re an amazing tutor so far your explanations did wonders for Mark. But you’re sat there staring at him with your eyes gawking.

You’re like an eagle pouncing, but you’re hesitant at the same time.

The boy did take notice of your stares and very acknowledged presence. But he didn’t know why and he doesn’t quite want to ask you, because what if that makes you pressured and embarrassed? Mark felt however very watched. Every movement of his pen. Every step of his breathing he makes on the same bed you’re sitting with him on.

It felt discomforting almost?

You clear your voice. “Mark have you ever had…” you pause because you’re suddenly getting to know how intrusive you are being. The boy’s head lifts up and he waits for you to finish.

“Have you ever had sex?” You begin again. You bite on your inner cheek which starts to make Mark flustered. From such a smart and disciplined girl you really have a way of starting conversations.

Mark nodded. “Yeah. Did you?”

Even if it was an inappropriate comment, Mark didn’t lie about it and he answered you truthfully. The boy didn’t know what to say at first. But what’s the harm in saying yes?

You don’t reply and you move a little closer to Mark holding your knees against your chest. Wearing shorts came in handy because Mark can see a full outline of your beautiful legs.

“What was your first time like?” You ask without answering him. Mark raised up his eyebrow thinking to himself. “Uhh,” he sits up on the mattress.

Mark brushed the pen down on the notebook. “I think it was with my girlfriend at the time.” You fully expected him to say some chick at the party but knowing his ex girlfriend was his first time, made this somehow really sweet and romantic.

Mark mumbles. “But what was your like?”

Your lips fell in a thin line. In an embarrassing way you turn away your gaze when your reply hits the taller quick.

“Mark I am a virgin,” You said it with a moment of clarity. He wasn’t sure why you’re still a virgin when you’re decently attractive and hella smart.

It somehow doesn’t make any sense.

Mark’s mouth drops like an umbrella sheet. “No way.” And you nod to show its the truth. Mark laughs a bit not in a mocking way but in a sense of disbelief to lighten up your mood.

He could tell you’re almost ashamed but he didn’t think that’s anything to be ashamed of. In any case he wonders if that’s a positive more than a con.

“Hey Y/n that’s not a bad thing you know that right?” He nudges your arms with his elbow with a smile.

You sigh a little. “I know but I want to experience it. I don’t really care about my virginity that much.”

“So how come you’re still a virgin? You’re pretty and smart.” Mark chuckles, he didn’t quite understand it. If you wanted to lose your virginity card so badly how come you still have it?

Your eyes look at him, your chance to tell him how clueless you are when it comes to sex arises. A part of you don’t want to tell him you’re bad at sex because that’s really embarrassingly stupid. Or the fact that you have no idea how to do anything. You can’t even figure out how kissing goddamn works!

You swallow down your own emotions. “I have no idea how to have sex.”

Moments later your eyes have glued together in what seems to be a staring competition. Mark didn’t think you’d be completely clueless. It came so naturally to him when he was about to do it for the first time. To you this was like a big deal.

Mark comes forward mumbling nervously. “You don’t know how to kiss either?” You shake your head a no.

The boy was silent until his eyes fell down to your lips. They look pretty, they seem very red and plum. He couldn’t grasp it but the guts clench in a sudden contraction.

“Do you want me to teach you?” Mark starts to ask you. Your face fell to the ground or it rather feels like it. He read your mind.

He was so nervous about it, he didn’t want to come off like a freaking creep to you. Little does he know you were begging for this offer.

He trails. “You know — like exchange lessons? You helped me with science and I can help with sex lessons.”

That doesn’t sound too bad to you. The deal was appealing. Your eyes sparkle up and come forward to kiss his lips. When you did the first gesture this said a lot to the boy before you. You were agreeing. You didn’t back away, your eyes were glowing at the idea of him teaching you what to do during sexual encounters. And thus, he opens his mouth slipping in slowly his tongue. Caressing your soft untouched mouth was like a dream come true. You were like melting ice the moment your mouth felt the warmth of the salivas mixing in as one. The kiss was slow at the beginning but occasionally you got the hang of the pace and Mark decided to spice it up.

He had to spice it up for you. Mark wanted to show you how it really is. What it really awaits you. The kiss springs from the bottom, a sudden piercing movement shocks you causing your moans to fall off.

Did he just bite your bottom lip? He smirks at your reaction and pulls you down on the bed. Hovering above your lean shoulders those grabby hands touch on your waist to position you a little downwards to his liking.

Mark kissed your neck, your jawline, down the side to your ears and your shoulders once your top slips off leaving you in your bra.

Your bra was a pretty blue colour. Mark smiles at your chest in slight adoration. Your eyes took a glimpse of his eyes and his lips have small kisses to your chest, to the cleavage. In between your breasts he brushed his face into the softness of your pillows.

“You know I’m surprised you’re a virgin.” He begins quietly, travelling his mouth down to your stomach till your navel touches.

Your feet curl up. This was somehow nerve wrecking but it feels good? But it’s so slow and it’s like he’s bringing you to rest.

“Why?” You ask out quietly.

Mark mumbles when his fingers reach the very entrance of your panty lining. He stops at your abdomen monitoring the shorts he took off. Your panty matches the colour to your lovely bra. You feel so warm between the flat stomach, his fingers slip your panties down to your legs half way.

Eyes look up to see your face. “You strike me as someone who knows everything.” He might be right. You come across as reliable person.

But you don’t know everything unfortunately, you’re only human and you doubt that Mark knows absolutely everything too. You smile shyly and close your thighs together.

This was embarrassing. You never really went further than kissing someone badly before. He could see everything but the moment your legs shut him off Mark gave a small nudge with his hands to pull your thighs apart gently.

“No hiding Y/n come on? Open up for me.”

Your hands cover your face as your legs open up like two doors. Mark smiles in awe but you couldn’t see that. The boy kissed your entrance, like a peck to the lips until those same lips kiss the inner thighs. He loved seeing your legs trembling from nothing but nervousness.

You really are a small ball of wreck.

He quietly says. “You’re pretty down there why are you so worried?”

He didn’t quite understand what was making you this anxious and you shudder when his tongue does kitten lick motions to your pussy. You’re unable to make any sense of what just happened, but all you know is that this feels too good to stop.

Tongue traps at your nub flicking his motions in left and right directions: your pelvis subtly lifts off the bed to roll back. Mark hums against your entrance, he was devouring you as if it’s his first time too. It feels too good for you and that’s what’s making him get off the whole idea: You feeling good.

His tongue went inside your small hole giving it a few thrusts of his tongue. His nose pressed right against your clit. Your burning hot skin flushes his face and your thighs squeeze when your stomach clenches so tightly. Without a warning you slip into oblivion.

Mumbling out highly. “Fuckfuckfuck m’gonna cum.”

Striving to give you the best orgasm of your life, Mark feverishly sucks on your edging pearl, your clit was practically swollen and this pushed you right off the edge just as he wanted you to. He was watching up at you from down there seeing your spine arch and your moans hit the back of your throat, so hoarse and sore. The way your eyes shut and your hands grip at anything nearby: the bed sheets, your breasts, his thick hair.

Pulling out of your wet slimey pussy from all the coating of saliva. You take a deep breath, Mark positions him above you he saw your bright reddish cheeks and your sparkling wet eyes. You look beautiful like this.

He whispers. “Do you still want to continue?”

Your mind was a fog but you never hesitated to reply to your classmate. “Yes, please.”

It’s definitely a sight to see. You’re being so adamant about it. Mark leans down and pulls down his rock solid crotch out. Those jeans slipped off and it leaves an ugly feeling when you’re hard in jeans.

It feels like a big weight lifted from him when it comes off. The boy sits back and gave you a glance as if he is telling you to come forward.

“Do you want to take the boxers off?” You heard him ask you. Your eyes light up and with your small hands pulling off his boxers. Mark gave you a dark gaze when his large cock springs up against his stomach. Your mouth waters just looking at it.

Your stomach made a small butterfly clutch too. You look at him in panic. “Whoa wait, will that fit?” You sound so dumbfounded. But Mark grinned and he rubs your thighs reassuringly.

“It can, it will. Trust me on this I’m the teacher here.”

He was right he was the teacher here and you’re just a mere helpless virgin. You lay down on the bed sheets when Mark moves on top of you his hard tip had to do a few teasing streaks on your entrance. You were anticipating him to just ram it in — but he wasn’t.

You were just impatient and Mark was a very patient guy who didn’t want to rush a process like this. At least for now he doesn’t have anywhere to be, what’s the rush right?

The tip was pushed out and back in, it was like a car reverse and driving forward. Your entrance was locked tight so Mark wants to stretch you out with just the tip. He had a feeling he might have to use two fingers before anything else is to happen. The boy pressed his thumb and rubs your clit. You mumble out a whine, and then his singular finger goes inside you just to do a little stretch here and there. The second finger was when it starts to feel too good for you. Your eyes shut and your voice starts to feel good.

He made his hand shake a little and then come out. Only for his tip to slip in fully in you and then gradually expand his shaft inside your pussy. You feel good, Mark was addicted to the feeling of his cock buried in your velvety new walls.

He grunts, his breath shaking. “Ah fuck Y/n, you feel better than i thought you would.”

It took every ounce of his body not to rut against you like a wild fucking beast, Mark moves up against your stomach. Your hands tremble upwards to hold his forearms.

“Mh! Fuck, it kind of hurts.” Your voice murmurs and the boy had his attention all on you. He was watching only your face when his body did the moving thing. When you told him it kind of hurts, Mark had a feeling the pain will turn to pleasure soon for you. All he could do was give a small ‘shh’ and a kiss on the forehead for you.

You’re kind of glad Mark is your first. He seems to be gentle and loving enough for this. If it was anyone else you don’t think they would be as supportive as he was to you.

A simple kiss on the forehead made your worries disappear. And you let him rut against your pussy that squelches on his shape, taking every single inch of his cock until he was balls deep.

He was right, the pain did turn to pleasure real soon.

He brushed some of your hair back from your face as his thrusts connect to his pivoting muscles and hips. Mark admires your honesty expressions too, he couldn’t help himself. You were pretty even in this state.

The boy brushed down your jawline, he leans to capture a kiss on your lips. Your voice slips off like a breathy breeze. “Mark — feels too good.”

He smiles down at you. “I know,”

Your thighs wrap themselves on his waist and that brought him deeper in a whole new position when he is pushing in your loving arms. And then you feel a strong urge in the stomach, something that’s about to explode.

Your eyebrow ends connect, furrowing. “M’think I’m gonna cum…”

You didn’t exactly know but the feeling was so intense it overlaps your hearing and your brain goes back moments later after the surging sensation washes over you.

Mark feels you cumming right on his cock, he grits his teeth together jawline attached with his remaining strength.

“Me too, I’m close, hold on.” He mumbles lowly until he fucks himself just enough to pull out of you and then flick his wrist down the shaft to paint you of his cum on your bare stomach.

Deeply breathing the boy pulls back on the bed, you achingly sit up with a small groan. You never felt your body become this sore.

Your eyes watch Mark as the boy brushed back his hair with his hand. You both look like visible messes. Sweating and panting.

Your lips curve into a small smile. “So, do you need help with anything else in your classes?”

Mark gave a visible chuckle somehow it feels like you’re going to be more of a distraction when you’re going to tutor him than he likes to believe.

“Uhh, let’s see.” He replies, looking at the studying materials you guys left unattended on the floor. Scattered is the right word more like.

“I think I prefer to Exchange Lessons.” He admits, causing you to chuckle.

Mark thinks you do too, considering you’re not disagreeing.

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you!! Follow my blog for more and reblog it helps a girl out<3 ily

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asidian · 3 months

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One thing I haven't seen talked about is Crystal's character arc, and specifically the way the timing of it interacts with Charles' arc. They stumble over each other in the worst possible way en route to their respective character growth, and from a narrative perspective, it's absolutely genius.

I'm going to preface all this by saying: none of this is a criticism of Crystal. Part of what makes her such a dynamic, refreshing character is that you don't get to see women in fiction written the way she's been written. You don't get to see women with her flaws that aren't throw-away mean girls or villains. You especially don't get to see women with her traits who learn and grow and become better people. So yeah, I'm going to talk about Crystal's character flaws. No, this isn't Crystal hate. We love our girl in this house. Okay? Okay. Let's start.

Crystal's character arc, at its heart, is all about her learning to be a better person because she has good influences that love and support her for the first time.

When the show starts, Crystal is not a nice person. She's abrasive in a way that's specifically designed to push people away. She's used to getting her own way, and it shows. She's used to having no meaningful connections with anyone, and it shows. She's breathtakingly selfish, in the very literal sense of the definition. She is focused on her self. Her problems are front and center to her; everything is about what she needs, and what she wants, and how she's struggling.

Jenny calls her out very early on. In episode one, Crystal is complaining about the boys, and Jenny, for all her cynicism, strikes right at the heart of the problem. She tells Crystal, "Everybody is always thinking about themselves, all the time." People only care about their own problems. And she says, correctly, that that's what Crystal is doing, too.

This moment is a revelation for Crystal. For the first time, she considers what her behavior looks like from another person's perspective. As she says, she gets mad at herself over it, and that awareness allows her to do something selfless for the first time in the series. She takes a step back and insists that instead of focusing on her problems, they go to help a little girl. It's a big moment for her.

But importantly, she's not done growing as a character here. She's only just getting started.

On my first watch through, I didn't realize how often, over the next few episodes, Crystal redirects things to her problems during conversation, but it's quite a lot. She's still focused on herself – selfish, in that most literal definition of the word. The issues most important to her are her issues. She's starting to learn to think about other people, but she's not there yet. The process is still underway.

Which brings us to Charles.

Charles' arc is a different sort of self-reflection. He's terrified that he's a bad person the way his father was and the way the boys that killed him were.

During the course of the show, he gets systematically stripped of his confidence and made to feel helpless, and just like Crystal needs outside influences to help her reach a more stable place, Charles does, too. He desperately needs reassurance that he isn't everything he's afraid he is.

But my goodness, the timing in their arcs is such a trainwreck when you put them together, and it is brilliant.

Let's start with the Devlin House.

Crystal has some amazing character growth here. She displays genuine concern about Charles, makes an attempt at comforting him, and learns to work with Edwin even though she still doesn't particularly like him at this point.

Charles, meanwhile, is beginning to fall apart. He's just had the worst night of his afterlife. He's been viscerally reminded of how helpless he is. He couldn't stop the Devlins from being killed over and over, just like he couldn't stop his own father's abuse. He messed up his attempted rescue so badly that he was completely out of commission until the case was finished. He managed to help not one single thing. He made no impact at all. He couldn't help those girls any more than he was able to help himself, while he was still alive.

So they get back to the butcher shop, and what do we see? Monty immediately coopts Edwin. Niko doesn't know what's happened because she wasn't there and Charles has been all fake smiles with her. And Crystal goes off with Niko, leaving Charles to flounder on his own in the wake of everything. She's still learning how to support other people. She isn't there yet, and it's extremely on display in this moment.

Then we get the lighthouse episode, and they both get put through the wringer here. Crystal gets her hopes and expectations jerked around by the Night Nurse in the very worst way, and Charles gets hit with a whole pile full of trauma. All that helplessness wells to the forefront again. Combined with being forced to relive some of his worst memories and the desperation to keep Edwin safe from hell, Charles lets himself act on his anger for once.

And what does he get in the aftermath? Horror.

Everyone who cares about him is horrified by what he's done. Edwin goes so far as to call it extreme. They don't know the half of it, of course; they haven't seen what the Night Nurse just put him through. But in this moment Charles is at his absolute lowest, and all he sees is confirmation that he's exactly as terrible as he thinks he is.

That's why Charles shrugs off Edwin's attempt at comfort, here. When he needed to be able to do something to protect Edwin and also himself – when he needed to believe that he could be better than what his father always was – all he sees is the confirmation from the people he cares about most that when push came to shove, he really is a bad guy.

Then comes the aftermath. And this moment is such a brilliant, awful clash of both of their character arcs. It is so delightfully messy.

Because Charles starts to open up to Crystal here. He starts to lay himself bare, the way he ends up doing with Edwin in episode 5. He's on the verge of admitting something that he's been worried about for literal decades. He tells her, "I've been angry for such a long time."

And what does Crystal do? She's still in the midst of her own character growth. She's still struggling to support other people. She's still learning how to. In a lot of ways, though she's made progress already, she's still that selfish girl that Jenny called out in the very first episode.

And she shows it here it with the absolute worst possible timing. No sooner has Charles started to talk about what's bothering him than she cuts in with her own problems. She's tired of riddles and spirits and demons and not knowing who she is. And the look on Charles' face. The moment when he visibly sets aside his own problems, because Crystal doesn't need any more disasters on her plate? It's heartbreaking. You can actually track the subtle change in his expression there. The actor does a phenomenal job.

And then comes the kiss. And what spurs it? Crystal saying she needs something real.

This moment isn't about light-hearted attraction, the way the earlier flirting is. It's Charles setting aside what he needs – comfort and reassurance and a moment to talk through the things that have been tearing him apart – to give her what she says she wants. He can't even feel it. And Crystal isn't far enough along in her character growth here to realize how selfish she's being. Like Jenny said way back in episode one, she's only thinking about herself.

And then comes the absolute unmitigated disaster of episode 5.

Straight out the gate, Charles leans in for a kiss. From his perspective, they have something together; there's affection there. Charles "I think I'd miss kissing" Rowland, who has been starved for meaningful physical contact for thirty years, is not in a hurry to give this up.

But Crystal is fresh out of a nightmare where she conflates Charles with her abusive ex. She withdraws; she calls what they had a distraction. She cuts it off almost as soon as it's started, so focused on her own worries here that she misses how damn fake Charles' smile is, to cover up that he's coming to pieces.

To be clear, she's absolutely not in the wrong here. It is 1000% her prerogative not to jump into a relationship again while she's still struggling to work through what happened with David. But the arc of her narrative is still early enough that she does it all without so much as the awareness that her focus on her own issues has hurt Charles terribly.

And then the episode really kicks off, and both of them are in shambles in very different ways.

Crystal is projecting her issues with David onto Charles. She has a lot of history, and David seems as though he's exactly the right sort of toxic to leave lasting a lasting impact. But Charles hasn't done anything to deserve her assumptions, and he takes the brunt of her temper here and throughout the episode.

Charles is desperately projecting onto the dead jocks. He very badly wants them to be good guys, because he sees himself in them and he needs himself to be a good guy. He snipes back at Crystal for the very first time in this episode, and he does it in the worst way possible, accidentally prodding her where it will do the most damage.

They're both hurting. They both say some truly painful things to one another.

She does not need to hear that she has unsorted hangups about David still plaguing her while she's unable to move past them. He desperately does not need anyone to tell him that he has rage issues while he's still struggling to think of himself as a decent person.

They apologize, in the end. They start to move past it.

But it's telling that Charles doesn't try to open up to Crystal again. He goes to Edwin instead, even though Edwin is the one who called his actions regarding the Night Nurse extreme. He gets the reassurance he needs so badly; he gets the connection he was looking for with Crystal from Edwin, instead. (I have a lot of thoughts on why Charles initially tries to open up to Crystal so quickly, but it is very much an aside, and this is already extremely long, so it will have to wait for another write-up.)

But the important thing here is, Edwin is the one to offer Charles what he needs to overcome the self-doubt eating him alive. Edwin provides the physical affection Charles was seeking in the form of that long-overdue hug. Edwin is the one who's able to reaffirm for him that he's not just a good guy, he's the best person Edwin knows.

And for all intents and purposes, Charles' major character arc ends here.

Charles has a few last little moments to go on the path to rebuilding his own self-image, after this, but for the most part his concerns have been resolved. He saves Crystal in episode 6 and Edwin in episode 7, proving to himself that he's able to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds. He's not helpless, no matter what the Night Nurse told him; he can be a force for good in the world. By the end of the series, his crisis of self-doubt seems to have been largely overcome.

But it's the conversation with Edwin at the end of episode 5 that really allows him to work through his most pressing issues. Edwin is there to help support him when he stumbles. Edwin provides him the comfort he was looking for while Crystal was too worried about her own problems to notice how badly he needed the help.

Crystal, meanwhile, still has a ways to go after episode 5. The last three episodes are where she does her most important character growth.

In episode 6, she learns some hard lessons about keeping secrets and letting people help and appreciate you even when you can't offer them anything in return. And Charles, importantly, is there for her every step of the way. He consistently offers her physical and emotional support. He models for her, in a very real way, what it looks like to have someone prop you up when you need the help.

And in turn, Crystal steps in to save the boys. She's the big damn hero at the end of this episode.

The breakthrough continues into episode 7. She's so intent on helping to get Edwin out of hell that she literally goes to face her own demons, not for herself for once – not for her own purposes or needs or wants – but because she wants to help someone else.

And episode 8, at long last, brings her to the culmination of her character arc.

Crystal is at her absolute lowest here. Her family, the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, didn't even realize she was gone. Her precious memories, that she's spent the entire series trying to regain, have showed her that she's not the person she hoped she would be. She's overwhelmed enough that she means to flee, to cut herself off from her new friends entirely.

Then the boys get kidnapped. And just like that, she makes up her mind.

For the first time since the start of the series, she sets aside her most important issues in order to let what other people need take precedence. She disregards all of her own personal concerns and focuses instead on others. She's finally stepped out of those selfish impulses that Jenny calls her out on, all the way back in the first episode. She's finally learned how to support other people when they need it.

Crystal has finally figured out how to be there for others, despite having troubles of her own.

It's a lovely arc, and it's beautifully done.

Charles' is just as touching.

And god damn, but it was a brilliant narrative choice to have their character arcs line up in exactly the wrong way.

#dead boy detectives #dbda #dbda spoilers #charles rowland #crystal palace #edwin payne #meta commentary

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nadvs · 2 months

Text

better off (part two)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating mature 18+

summary after having regretful break-up sex with rafe, you try to move on. but he can’t let you go that easy.

warning toxic relationship

» part one

» masterlist

Gulls squawk in the distance, circling the cloudless afternoon sky as you sit on your family’s docked boat.

Since you arrived at the marina, you haven’t moved, save for the boat’s gentle rocks as it sits on the water. Every so often, you hear chatter from people on their boats around you, but it’s been fairly quiet.

You didn’t come here to go out into the sea. You simply needed a change of scenery. Your bedroom has begun to feel suffocating.

And while it hurts to be alone, it hurts even more to be around people. You’re not yourself since the break-up. Having to keep up conversations reminds you of how much of a stranger you are to yourself now.

Life feels off without Rafe. Blurred.

The pages of the book in your hand are fluttering with the breeze, your pen held tight in your hand. You’ve been trying to focus on reading, but you can’t stop thinking about what happened two nights ago. The last time you saw him.

You regret the break-up sex. It was a relapse that hindered your recovery. He called you insufferable.

But it’s par for the course. He has a knack for making you feel like you’re a burden, a bother, as if you were forcing him into a relationship.

You blink away tears and look down at the words on the page. You had picked up this book about toxic relationships a week ago, but finally started reading it today.

As you expected, what you had with Rafe ticks all the boxes. Distrust. Control. Blame.

And one thing you read that stuck with you is how someone usually stays in a toxic relationship because it doesn’t always feel bad. The person you love isn’t all flaws, all the time.

It’s true. Rafe could be mean, but he had good qualities, too. He was fun. Reliable. Protective. Loyal. Hardworking.

It still wasn’t enough to make up for how cruel he could be. Your eyes travel over the last paragraph you read.

Break the cycle by understanding that this was not your fault. Whatever happened to them to cause their behavior was likely not their fault either, but you must accept that your love can’t break that barrier.

Rafe always hated crying in front of you. He only did it a couple times, muttering that he had to stop being such a pussy. You told him it was okay, but he just got angry at you for trying to console him. As if you were patronizing him.

He treated you the same way when you cried. Not every time, but when he was the reason you were upset, he would tell you to stop whining. That you were sensitive and needed to toughen the fuck up if you were going to be his girl.

It broke you, piece by piece. But if he talked to himself like that whenever he felt weak, of course he’d do it to you, too. Any negative emotion that wasn’t anger was disgusting to him.

You know his upbringing was tumultuous. From what little he told you, his father could be erratic and unreliable with his affection, kind to his son one moment, then clearly favoring his daughter the next.

And you often wondered if that’s why he couldn’t say he loved you very often. Maybe because he considered it a fragile promise.

You sigh to yourself. This is all you’ve been doing; trying to understand a man who can’t possibly love you, not really, because a man who loves you wouldn’t scream at you and call you names.

Break the cycle by understanding that this was not your fault.

You underline the words in red pen. You want this burned into your brain. You couldn’t fix him. It wasn’t on you to. But damn, did you want to.

You pull out your phone to take a photo of this part of the page, the stern of the boat and the dark blue sea and the edge of the dock in the background.

You had intended to just keep it for yourself, but you decide to post it on your story. It feels like a release to share a sentence that has such an impact on you, even though any followers who see it will probably tap through and forget about it in a second.

Plus it’s not like the person you’re relating it to can see it anyway. You removed Rafe from all of your social media and blocked his number. You’ve cut him out of your life.

You look out at the water again, wishing there was something you could do to ease the heaviness that’s flooding your body and wringing your heart out.

It feels like it’s going to hurt forever. It’s a tiring thing, caring about someone who throws you down and then treats you like you chose to fall.

Rafe tried to text you yesterday. We need to meet asap. He meant to make it sound urgent, when really, he just wants to talk about your break-up. It’s a manipulative move, but it’d get your attention.

But the text immediately came up as undelivered. You blocked him. And now that he thinks about it, he’s glad. Those moments of reaching out to you are moments of weakness. And they’re humiliating.

Especially because of what you said the other night. That if there’s any part of him that has a heart, he’ll leave you alone. Of all the things you’ve hurled at him, that had to be one of the worst.

He’s not a heartless asshole. He can act like one, but he’s shown you love time and time again, and you spoke to him as if he never has. It was a stab in the back.

Still, he can’t reign in his need to know whatever he can about you. He felt like such a loser telling Topper to send him whatever you post after you blocked him on everything. At least you didn’t block his friend.

Rafe is sitting on his bed when he sees a screenshot from Topper come through on his phone. Anxiety pricks his skin. Ever since you mentioned that you have someone new now, he’s dreading seeing you with another man, of even seeing a mention of him.

He knows you well. He’s almost certain you lied about having a new boyfriend. But what if you didn’t?

It’s a photo of a book in your lap, your hand holding open the page. He recognizes your family’s boat in the background. You’ve gone out on it together quite a few times.

It’s pathetic how long he looks at your hand in the photo. He’s a wreck, taking pieces of whatever he can to feel put together again, eyes trailing over what little of your body he can see.

You would sometimes put his ring on your finger, looking at him with that bright smile you once had reserved only for him. But that ring is back on his hand now, and the last time it touched you, you called the sex you’d just had a mistake.

Rafe reads the portion you underlined in the book. It makes an ugly mix of pain and anger settle into his core. This has to be about him.

Not your fault. Is that what you really think? That none of this is your fault? That you both crashed and burned all because of him?

He grits his teeth. He was right for what he said the other night. You really do think you’re perfect.

All of your mutual friends know you split up. They’ll piece together that this is about him in a second. There’s no way they won’t. It’s fucking humiliating.

Rafe has no control over his impulses. He never has. That’s why he finds his keys and drives to the marina to find you.

He parks beside your car. His blood is boiling as he rushes down the dock, boats lining the long, uneven boardwalk, but when he spots you, he stops in his tracks.

Your back is to the dock. You’re rubbing your eyes in a way that looks like you’re wiping tears. The book sits beside you.

He’s pissed at you, but seeing you like this makes some of the anger fade.

After coming down from one last cry, you turn to stand and finally go home after hours of sitting and reading. You pick up your book and set to step out onto the dock. And you lock eyes with the man who you’ve done nothing but think about.

Rafe’s mouth opens slightly, but he can’t speak. He closes what little distance remains between you and when he reaches you, his face falls even more once he sees how red your eyes are.

“What are you doing here?” you say.

Your tone is harsh. You look annoyed to see him. It makes anger burn through him all over again.

Rafe steps up onto the edge of the boat, making you shuffle back so he doesn’t bump into you. He towers over you, his eyes hard and cold.

“You think it’s all on me?” he mutters.

“What?” you say.

“That’s what it says, huh?” he says, looking down at the book you’re holding against your chest. “Your stupid little self-help book. Nothing’s your fault.”

“How did…” You look down, shaking your head. He must have found a way to watch your story. And he rushed over here to yell at you about it.

“It’s wrong,” he says. “And the way you’re posting that shit to make me look bad is fucked up.”

“You found out I was here,” you begin, your muscles tense as you stare up at him, “and you came to yell at me over a fucking story? Are you insane?”

“I’m not gonna let you embarass me like that. Delete it.”

“I didn’t do it to embarrass you. I didn’t even mention you,” you mutter sharply. “But you know what?”

You’re spent. You’ve dedicated your day to trying to start your healing process. And you have no more fight left in you.

A stupid post is not worth it. You take out your phone, open your story, and delete it right in front of him.

“There,” you say. You meet his eyes again. “You got what you wanted. Now get out of my way.”

You step to the side to brush past him, but his hand wraps around your forearm. His skin feels so warm and so familiar and so nice and you wish he would stop having this effect on you.

“Rafe,” you say, your tone teetering on whining. “Let me go.”

“You think this is what I wanted?” he says with a humorless laugh.

“What do you want?” you challenge. “To keep fighting with me? Why are you looking at what I post?”

“Why are you posting about me?”

“I already told you, I didn’t even mention you.” You rip your arm out of his grip.

“It’s pretty fucking obvious. Everyone knows we…” He can’t even say broke up out loud. His eyes dart down to the book you’re holding.

“What other bullshit did you read in here, huh?” he mutters. He takes the book out of your hand. Resigned, you let him.

Rafe leafs through the pages, his heart pounding, eyes tracking whatever you’ve underlined.

“You actually spent your money on this?” he scoffs, condescending you.

“You’re such an asshole.”

You consider leaving him here. You can just buy another copy. Spending time with someone so committed to arguing, so committed to making you feel small, is misery.

But then Rafe stops at a page.

He notices a sentence underlined and circled and starred. And he’s prepared to call bullshit on it, simply because you so clearly want to remember it. But when he reads it, he loses some of his composure.

His jaw tightens and he shuts the book, shoving it back towards you. You gaze at him curiously, wondering what he just read that obviously struck him.

“What?” you ask, your guard coming down a little.

The words he just read tumble in his brain. He’s still so angry, still wanting to hit you where it hurts.

“Didn’t work out with the new guy?” he asks.

You swallow hard.

“There’s no new guy. I lied,” you admit. “Just to hurt your feelings. Because that’s what we do, right? We hurt each other on purpose, over and over.”

The relief that washes over Rafe dilutes his anxiety. There’s nobody else.

“And you’re still going to take no blame at all?” he says, eyes fluttering down to the book. “You think it’s normal to lie like that?”

“You bring it out in me,” you retaliate. “And you’re one to talk. Have you ever said sorry to me? Once?”

Rafe always acted like taking any sort of accountability was an admission of worthlessness. As if a sorry was admitting that he’s a bad person.

“Have you?” he asks.

You tense up even more, looking up at him through sad, angry eyes.

“What do I have to be sorry for?” you say.

“For-” His own caught breath interrupts him. He looks away, pissed as hell that his throat is starting to feel scratchy. He can’t cry. “For always making me feel like shit.”

“You always made me feel like shit.”

“See?” He breaths a cynical chuckle. “You don’t even ask how. You just say I did it, too.”

You cross your arms, your book starting to feel heavy in your grip. You hate this feeling, the tinge of powerlessness when he brings up a good point.

“How, then?” you ask begrudgingly.

“You brought up old fights all the time,” he snaps.

“That’s not fair,” you say. “I did that because I never got an apology. Or any sort of closure.”

“Then, talk about it when it happens,” he says. “Don’t bitch about something from a million years ago.”

“I didn’t bitch,” you say sharply. “Don’t use that word.”

“You know I’m right,” he says. “I never knew when you were going to get pissed off. We’d be having fun and then out of fucking nowhere…”

He sighs again and looks down, his hands on his hips.

You want to counter that he was exactly like that. Because he was. He used to fly off the handle with no warning all the time. Maybe he walked on eggshells, but so did you.

You swallow your reflex to fight back. You’re sure it’s all the reading you’ve been doing about taking responsibility. You can admit you’re guilty of what he’s accusing you of.

Throughout your relationship, you’d be having a good time together and out of nowhere, you’d think of an old fight that was left unresolved and reminded him of what an asshole he could be.

Just like that, you can understand a part of his side. You had always thought of him as completely in the wrong. It was perpetually about winning or losing between you two. Black and white.

But maybe it’s gray. Because while you were wondering how someone who was supposed to love you could be so cruel, you were cruel in your own way. And you adored him.

“Talking about it when it happened was impossible. We never resolved anything,” you say. “And that weighed on me. I hated how you never said sorry. But I know I… blindsided you sometimes.”

Rafe blinks a few times, looking at you with a softness you haven’t seen in a long time.

You actually admitted to it. He doesn’t feel self-righteous like he thought he would. He feels better than that. Understood, for once.

“But you’d do something shitty and then just expect me to get over it,” you continue. “And if I cried, you made me feel sensitive and crazy for being hurt. But of course I was hurt, Rafe. I loved you.”

He licks his lips, his eyes boring into you, his chest starting to rise and fall faster. He didn’t miss the past tense.

“You don’t anymore,” he says, disbelief and desperation in his voice.

You stare up at him. And you respond honestly.

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice wavering.

“How do you not know?” he says tersely.

“Do you love me?” you say. “You never said it.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighs. “God, you were always so hung up on that. Why did I have to say it all the damn time? I showed it.”

He was always tense about this. It’s hard to actually say the words. And he hates how bad you made him feel for discomfort he couldn’t control.

He never heard it growing up. He never had anyone to say it to. Then, with you, it’s like he was expected to say it every hour.

It made him feel inadequate, every time you pestered him for not saying it. Like he wasn’t enough for you unless he said three words.

“Do you?” you repeat.

There’s a tangled heap of feelings sitting on his chest. He’s torn between wanting to hurt you and wanting to win this argument and wanting to hear you love him and wanting to storm away.

His pride is too fucking heavy. If you won’t say you love him, he’s not saying it to you.

He doesn’t answer. And you realize his eyes are glossy.

“Are you crying?” you ask gently.

Typically, you’d pretend you didn’t notice because he loathes crying in front of you. It embarrasses him. But this isn’t a typical conversation.

“You really think we’re sick together?” he rasps.

You know exactly what part of your book he read now. You read that line over and over again. It’s better to be healthy alone than sick together.

“Yeah,” you say quietly.

Rafe can’t stop the tear that drops onto his cheek. Frustrated, he wipes it away.

“And you can make fun of me for reading books like this all you want,” you say, “but they really do help. I need to be healthy on my own first if I want to be healthy with someone else.”

Something that looks like fear flashes over his face.

“You want to be with someone else?” Rafe asks. “Who?”

You gaze up at him with a cocked head, actually feeling sympathy for his insecurity. He always bordered on hysteria over the idea of you with another man. He always was so sure you’d find someone more suited for you.

“No. Right now, it’s important for me to get better,” you say. “By myself.”

“And what if…” He shakes his head. “What if I get better, too?”

It’s the most vulnerable he’s been this whole conversation. Maybe the most vulnerable he’s been with you ever.

You search his handsome, pained face for any indication of this being a cruel joke.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

Rafe doesn’t know how to navigate this. You had each other at your worst, but you still fell in love. How happy could you be at your best?

“If I get better, too, are you going to want…” It’s too nerve-wracking to directly ask if you’ll want him. He feels like such a coward.

“You?” you say.

His jaw tenses in discomfort. You exhale shakily.

This doesn’t have to be a test of pride, a game of win or lose like it always was with him. You can be honest. Because you already had to say goodbye to the person who once made you the happiest you’d ever been, so there’s nothing left to lose.

“If we really are better,” you finally say, “yeah. We can try this again. If you want to.”

Rafe knows he shouldn’t, but he wants to touch you so badly that it’s hurting him. This feels too fragile, though. One wrong move could break this sense of amiability you two haven’t had together in ages.

“I want to,” he admits.

For the first time in weeks, hope blooms in your chest. You always thought he was so stubborn. That he didn’t think he had anything wrong with him, and therefore, nothing to fix.

But he’s willing to work on himself. And you are, too. Maybe this isn’t doomed after all.

“We’ll give it a few weeks, okay?” you say softly. “And after, we’ll talk and… see what happens.”

Rafe wants to ask if you’ll unblock him, but he’s opened himself up to enough risk of rejection since this conversation started. He accepts the discomfort of not knowing.

He can only say a tense, “Okay.” And he can’t cry in front of you anymore. And he can’t handle how confusing it is to feel hopeful and angry and sad all at once.

He leaves. Because the only way he can comfortably let out overwhelming emotions is through a fight, and that’s not an option right now.

You watch him go, left to wonder if this is just delaying further heartbreak, or if one day, you actually can be the people you need each other to be.

(part three)

#this really was going to stay a one-shot but i just… um…#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n

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