#he’s on a beach somewhere okay

[hannah-schooler]

y’all stop it i didn’t even consider that they could’ve killed Cody off screen and just said he “went AWOL” NOW IM SCARED

[revvethasmythh]

thank god I found lae'zel when I did tbh, because we were getting into fights and I was staring around at my party comp (rogue, wizard, cleric) like "oh so we're fucked fucked without a melee fighter aren't we?"

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 6 (part one)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 5.3k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

additional chapter cw! this chapter contains brief mentions of blood and minor injuries

It was like no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t stop hurting you.

You were only under for a second, maybe less, your lifejacket doing its job, and yet somehow he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d let you drown. 

There wasn’t much logic to it. It wasn’t as though he had emptied the jet ski of all its gas, or that he somehow had control over the weather. 

Technically, none of this was his fault, yet he felt the guilt burn in his chest like he’d swallowed hot coals.

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The second your head emerged, you let out a scream, the salt water in your fresh cut sending hot sparks of pain up your leg.

“Fuck, ow!” You cried, reaching for the jet ski with shaky hands, in so much pain you couldn’t even find it.

“Ohhh baby, are you okay?” Rafe grabbed your hand, squeezing tight as he pulled you towards him in the water, his other arm tethering you both to the jet ski.

“I think I’m bleeding,” you clung to his shoulder, your fingers digging in probably too tight, but the pain was so overwhelming you needed to put it somewhere. He didn’t mind, desperate to take it away however he could.

“Here climb up,” he said, grabbing your waist and boosting you. “The water can’t be helping.”

“Shit,” you both said in unison when you finally got onto the jet ski and revealed the cut on your calf, wider than you thought and bleeding angrily.

“Just hold on, I got you,” he assured, beginning to kick rapidly to start moving the jet ski toward the shore. 

You were scared the whole time, never once taking your eyes off of him. Asking him over and over again if he was okay until you were sure he was sick of it. But not once was there even a hint of agitation in his voice as he promised you he was fine, that you were almost there, that everything was gonna be okay.

His words didn’t do much to convince you, your face flooding with worry when you noticed his breaths getting more strained.

“I’m okay,” he swore to you, stopping for a moment to catch his breath. “We’re almost there.”

It was starting to rain and the thunder was growing louder, there was no argument to be made that you could keep floating safely in the ocean. You resigned to let him keep going, but your eyes never left him, as if it was your appreciation keeping him afloat instead of his lifejacket.

“Thank you,” you said for the fifteenth time.

He smiled, his eyes crinkling with the motion, the expression entirely too joyful for the grim situation you found yourselves in.

“What?” You scoffed, poking his hand with your toe playfully.

“You’re cute when you’re worried,” he explained.

The drizzling rain was chilly, but your body was on fire. You opened your mouth to reply, despite the utter lack of words in your mind, but the sight of your sister appearing in the distance pulled your attention away.

The group that gathered at the dock’s edge was not the happy-go-lucky bunch of friends you’d arrived with a few hours ago.

The dock was only a few yards away now, you were close enough to see Carter slumped on the ground, Topper’s arms around her, pulling her into a comforting hug. As Rafe swam you closer, it became more apparent that she was crying. 

“There she is!” Tom shouted, motioning to you.

Carter stood quickly, nearly knocking Topper over, waving her arms in the air frantically like she was trying to land a plane. You waved back, heart aching at the sight of her red, puffy eyes. 

“We’re okay!” You yelled through the rain, trying to ease her worry as the jet ski approached. 

You looked down at Rafe who could hear the commotion but not see it.

“We’re almost there, they’re all waiting for us,” you filled him in.

As the front of the jet ski neared the group, Topper leaned over the side of the dock to pull you the rest of the way in. 

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, where have you been, are you crazy?!” Carter paced the dock, a wild look in her eyes as she scolded you.

“I’m fine!” You assured her. “We just ran out of gas.”

“We?” She questioned, hands on her hips.

Once Topper had secured the jet ski to the dock, Rafe swam around to the side, revealing himself to the group.

“What the hell? Where’s Kelce?” Carter questioned.

You knew she must really be upset. When she went into worried-mom-mode, her already limited inclination for politeness went completely out the window.

“Can someone help him up please?” You corrected her. “And get him a blanket or something?”

“I’ve got a couple in my trunk!” Topper said, before running to the marina parking lot.

“I’m fine,” Rafe calmed you with a soft smile as he lifted himself onto the back of the jet ski.

Before he could climb onto the dock, fully planning to help you up next, Tom reached out his hand to you.

“Are you okay?” Tom asked. You could feel Rafe’s posture stiffen next to you.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You accepted his hand, only due to the fact that you actually did need help with the big step off the jet ski.

The moment your feet were steady on the dock, you pulled your hand from his and turned back to make sure Rafe made it onto solid ground. When he did, you made your way to Carter’s side, pulling her into a hug.

“I thought something happened…” she mumbled into your shoulder.

“I’m okay,” you soothed her. “Rafe saved me.”

She pulled back from you, sniffling as she eyed him over your shoulder.

“Thank you,” she told him quietly.

“I didn’t do a great job,” he said shakily, looking down at your leg. “You’re still bleeding.”

“You’re bleeding?!” Carter turned you around, inspecting you for injury.

You laughed as she spun you frantically, “it’s just a little cut on my leg.”

She leaned down to inspect it further, eyebrows knit with concern. “I told Topper we should’ve called 911.”

You placed both hands on her shoulders, “Car, I’m fine. It’s just a scrape, it’ll be gone by tomorrow. I’m sorry we scared you, though.”

“You did,” she pouted.

Topper came running back, huffing from his hurry. 

“I could only find one,” he extended the blanket in his hands to Rafe, who obviously needed it more.

Rafe took the blanket from him and opened it up quickly, but instead of dragging it over his own shoulders, he wrapped it around you.

“You should take it,” you tried to stop him.

“Nah,” he waved you off, running his hands up and down your arms to warm you up. “We need to get you dry before Carter calls the Coast Guard.”

For a full ten seconds, your group stood in the rain, everyone’s eyes on someone else, the tension in the air telling an entire story to some invisible audience.

Carter looked at you, concern wrinkling her forehead as she wondered what really happened after she went to bed last night. 

Topper looked at Carter, wondering if her investment in your love life meant she’d forgotten all about the intimate hug they’d shared on the dock waiting for you to return.

Tom looked at Rafe, wondering if it was this joker’s fault you’d rejected him the night before and feeling the hot flame of competition ignite in his chest.

Sabrina looked at Tom, wondering when boys had started looking at you like that and how to get him to look at her instead.

Rafe looked down at you, and you looked up at him, both wondering if the other was thinking the same thing: there’s so much more to say.

“Ahem,” the jet ski owner cleared his throat, pulling you all from your thoughts. “Need the keys back if you don’t mind.”

Carter handed him the first two keys, and Rafe fumbled in his pocket for yours.

“You should really be checking the gas tank before you just send people out there,” Rafe snapped at him, tossing him the key. “You sent her out with an empty tank, she could’ve been seriously screwed, man. No way to run a business.”

“Maybe you should teach your girl how to drive so she doesn’t drain the tank,” the guy snapped back. “Not my fault she’s a ditz.”

Rafe stepped toward him in one long stride, chest puffed out and tension brewing in his flexed jaw that ran all the way down his neck.

“The fuck did you just say?” Rafe grabbed him by his collar, pulling the guy up towards him as he glared at him. 

You looked helplessly to Topper, who hurried to pull Rafe’s hand off the guy’s shirt. Topper was an expert at intervening before Rafe did things he couldn’t undo, and you were grateful he was here. Still, there was a small part of you that selfishly wanted to know what he’d do next, how far he’d go to defend your honor.

“Okay, okay,” Topper said. “Let’s just go, bro. It’s over.”

Rafe fought against Topper’s pull for a moment, staring daggers at the jet ski guy, who was chuckling smugly. When the guy’s eyes darted to you, he pulled his arm from Topper’s grip and made to move towards him again.

“Rafe,” you said softly.

His head turned to you, and the tension in his shoulders loosened. You shook your head ever so slightly, eyes urging him to back down. He nodded once and his hands, which had been balled into fists, flexed open as he let his anger go.

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As soon as you made it back to the house, you peeled your wet bathing suit off and climbed in the shower, eager to get your weary body into the warm water and let the sea wash down the drain. Carter had announced plans on the car ride back from the marina to go out to some clubs this evening, and you were far from dance floor ready.

For just a moment, the hot water felt incredible, until it made its way to your cut. You yelped and stepped out of the hot stream quickly. 

Typically, you would’ve thought responsibly enough to cover the cut before getting in the shower, but your mind was too foggy with thoughts of Rafe. You pulled on some clothes and padded down the hall to Carter’s room.

The knock on the door sparked a flurry of commotion behind it. Hushed voices echoed from under the door frame.

“Just a second!” Carter shouted to you, voice muffled.

“Oof!” A deeper voice said, the sound of a heavy body hitting the floor.

Your lips twisted in a knowing smile. You didn’t need the door to swing open to know who you were hearing in the room. Carter and Topper were clearly tangled up in something before you interrupted.

Confirming your suspicion, the door swung open and Topper stood in front of you, his shirt on backwards from being pulled on in a hurry.

“Do I have the wrong room?” You smirked.

“I was just, uh, helping Carter with something,” he fumbled to explain.

“Oh? What were you helping her with?” 

“Her bed is, uh, broken.” 

You laughed, standing on your tiptoes to call over his shoulder and into the room, “just wanted to see if you have any Band-Aids?” 

“No,” she responded from somewhere under the mess of blankets on her bed. “But I can come help you find some.”

“Oh no,” you said. “You stay here and work on that…broken bed.”

Topper gave you a thankful smile and you winked at him.

“Make good choices!” You called, turning from the door.

“Too late!” Carter sang back.

You checked a few of the other bathrooms before wandering to the kitchen. One hand on the counter, and the other reaching as high as it could, you tried to boost yourself up. The flex of your calf as you jumped stretched the skin around your cut, making you wince. 

“Fuck,” you grumbled to yourself. “Let’s get jet skis they said, it’ll be fun they said…”

You tried to jump again, reaching for the high cabinet, the only one in the kitchen you hadn’t checked yet. You could’ve sworn you’d seen a first aid kit around here somewhere. You jumped again, the effort still fruitless.

“Need some help?”

You turned fast, startled by the revelation that you weren’t actually alone.

Rafe was standing at the bottom of the stairs, leaning on the banister with his arms crossed. His hair was damp, clearly just out of the shower himself. You weren’t looking at his hair, though.

He was covered only by a pair of checkered boxers and the towel flung carelessly over his shoulder. His torso was long and rigid, more defined than you had first noticed on the beach the other day. The hard ridges of his abs cast shadows on the plane of his stomach, your eyes danced over them, down to the deep V that disappeared below his waistband.

“What are you looking for?” His words were casual, as if he didn’t notice you staring, but the crooked grin etched on his face told a different story.

“Band-Aids,” you told him, your voice so feeble it did nothing but further reveal your captivation with the sight of him.

The smirk and all its playfulness fell from his face as his eyes filled with concern. 

“Are you still bleeding?” 

“No, I just need to cover it so I can shower. I’m thinking I should probably get the seaweed out of my hair if we’re going out.”

“Y’know if you don’t want to go, we don’t have to. I’d stay back with you,” he offered.

Your eyes fell from his, shuffling your feet uncomfortably, he stumbled over his words to reassure you, “we don’t have to, like, hang out. Just if you’re tired and you’d rather stay in and read or something that’s cool. I would stay down here.”

“You don’t want to hang out with me?” You raised your eyebrows in mock offense.

You were messing with him now, you probably shouldn’t be, but watching him run circles around himself to say the right thing was too fun.

“That’s not what I- I just,” he stuttered. “Here, can you just let me help you?”

He was across the room quick, your bodies close enough to touch for the first time since the dock. He smelled like soap, and something else undefinable and sweetly nostalgic. He reached up, his long frame barely needing to stretch to reach the cabinet above you.

“Doesn’t look like there’s any in here,” he informed you, tall enough to see what you couldn’t. 

“You sure?” You didn’t know why you were questioning him, your flustered state made you defensive.

“You’re welcome to keep jumping to try and see for yourself,” he stepped back to give you space to try again. “You were so close.”

“Don’t be mean,” you smiled.

“I’m serious! It was very cute,” he dropped casually.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked back at him. Despite all his genuine actions today, you couldn’t help but feel suspicious of his intentions.

”What?” He questioned, sensing your hesitancy. 

“That’s the second time you’ve called me that today,” you pointed out, “It’s just kinda weird hearing you say it.”

“I mean it’s not like I’ve never called you cute before,” he reasoned.

“You haven’t,” you said definitively.

“I’m sure-“

“You haven’t. I would remember, believe me.”

You crossed your arms, hands cradling your elbows, feeling like a raw nerve. Rafe took a cautious step toward you, ducking his head slightly to draw your eyes to his, making sure you were listening when he said,

“Just because I didn’t say it doesn’t mean I didn’t think it.”

You instinctually stepped back, his words a little too close to a confession for your comfort. When you pulled away, the back of your leg hit the kitchen counter, making you flinch at the pain of your cut rubbing against the wood.

“I have some waterproof band aids in my room,” he mumbled, his low voice making you wonder for just a second if he really did have them or if this was just a sly way to get you to his room. Sensing your doubt, he doubled down with, “no, honest, I brought a whole first aid kit.”

Convinced, you followed him down the stairs to his basement bedroom. His bed was still pulled away from the wall, but it had seemingly dried. His belongings were strewn about, his book bag unzipped and overflowing with books and papers. You clocked the curious sight, but stayed silent, preoccupied by your sudden aloneness and his half-naked body.

Rafe dug through his suitcase for a moment until, sure enough, he pulled out a bright orange case with a little red cross on the front. You couldn’t help your smile.

“In your boy scout era?” You teased him.

“I’ve been on enough trips with Topper and Kelce to know you should always be prepared for the worst,” he chuckled.

“Ah, little did you know, I was gonna be the worst you needed to prepare for.”

“You? No, you’re the best part of this trip.”

Your throat tightened.

“Oh, really? It’s not your dungeon bedroom?” You pivoted.

“Yeah, I should probably get used to that mildew smell,” Rafe scoffed. “Gonna be living in my parents basement if I don’t pass this summer class.”

He motioned to his backpack, the mystery finally solved. He’d been doing school work down here. Summer classes, surely the answer to his not-graduating problem.

“What are you taking?” You inquired.

“Statistics. I need one more math credit and I just can’t…” he shook his head with self-loathing. “I mean, you know better than anyone. I’ve never been good at math.”

“I don’t think your problem was so much that you weren’t good,” you reasoned. “I think it was more about not applying yourself.”

“Well I’m applying myself now and I still feel like the textbook’s written in another language, so what does that mean?”

“Maybe that you just need some help,” you shrugged.

You could tell he was struggling with himself, and you were overcome with the desire to ease his worry. There are worse things a man can be than bad at math. But with Rafe, things were always all-or-nothing. One flaw meant the whole batch must be bad. 

You felt the urge to jump into tutor-mode and do the hard work for him, but you knew once you crossed that bridge into such familiar territory, there’d be no going back.

Rafe didn’t seem to share your concerns about repeating the past.

“Help from you?”

The way he leaned in when he said it would be almost imperceptible to anyone else, but you’d studied him long enough to notice even the slightest movement. You could feel the air between you tighten, like a rubber band stretching as far as it could go. You broke eye contact before it had the chance to snap.

“Or, like a tutor?” You suggested, reaching for the first aid kit in his hands. “Do they have those at Chapel Hill?”

“They do,” he stepped closer anyway, hand brushing yours as he handed it to you. “But I’d rather have you.”

You cleared your throat, ignoring his attempt to flirt. You decided not to go down this road with him, afraid it would lead to another dead end. 

He watched you dig through the kit for an appropriately sized Band-Aid, fighting the urge to ask if he’d said something wrong. Before he could, you leaned down and attempted to line up the adhesive with your cut, struggling to twist and reach the back of your leg.

“Here, let me.”

Fingers brushing yours, he took the Band-Aid and kneeled down in front of you, one leg under him, one propped up. His hand found your ankle and he guided your leg up so your foot rested on his knee. 

Clouds of foggy attraction swirled in your eyes as you looked down at him. He poked his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he focused on unwrapping the Band-Aid. You zeroed in on his fingers, long and slender, leading to vein rippled hands that worked diligently to ease your pain. It was enough to knock someone over, but you weren’t going anywhere with his strong thigh holding you up. 

“Since when are you such a gentleman?” You quipped, your decision not to flirt with him thrown out the window at the sight of him on his knees in front of you.

He smiled that satisfied, crooked grin as he gently placed the Band-Aid over your healing cut, “I’m trying.”

He brushed over the edge of the Band-Aid, smoothing it into place with a firm swipe of his thumb. You dreaded the moment he would stand again. As if he could read your mind, he delayed it, his hand lingering on your calf. 

Completely breathless, you watched him consider his next move. For a moment, you thought he was going to let his hand continue to run up your leg, but he stopped himself, bringing it back to your ankle and returning your foot to the ground.

When he stood and looked down at you, he was surprised by the pout of your lips.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “You just looked so cute down there.”

Rafe rolled his eyes playfully.

“Thought you didn’t like that word.”

“I don’t remember saying that,” you countered.

“You just don’t like it when I call you cute, then?” 

There it was again, evidence of his genuine desire to understand you. The rubber band tightened again, but this time, it was in your stomach, his sincerity drawing you to him helplessly.

“There’s just so many better things you could call me,” you flirted.

“Yeah?” Excitement coursed through you at his breathy tone. “Like what?”

“My name would be a good start.”

Voice still low, so deep you could feel it more than hear it, he uttered your name. It rolled off his tongue, smooth like honey dripping from his parted lips. The syllables came out with the faintest breath, brushing over your face as the sound swept over you.

Lip tucked between your teeth, you looked at his mouth, as though you could will more soothing sounds to fall from it. As you stared, his lips got closer to you, close enough to touch yours-

“Yo Rafe!”

The sound of Topper’s voice from the top of the stairs startled you so much, you knocked into his bedside table.

“What?” Rafe barked in the direction of Topper’s voice, his harsh, irritated tone in such stark contrast with the sweet way he’d just spoken to you.

“Just letting you know we’re leaving in like an hour,” Topper said.

“Okay?” Rafe snipped.

Topper grumbled something along the lines of “so fucking testy today” as he closed the door, none the wiser to your presence in the basement.

Rafe turned to you, eyes searching your face for a sign he could recover the moment that was so abruptly interrupted. You didn’t meet his eyes. A nervous, pink blush kissed the tips of your cheeks and washed down your chest. The thought of Topper seeing what you were almost doing brought you crashing back to reality. Twice today you had almost let him kiss you, the steel backbone you’d come into this trip with feeling more like glass with every second you spent with him.

“I should probably go start getting ready then,” you said, making your way toward the stairs.

“Right, yeah,” he agreed, defeated.

“Thanks for the Band-Aid.”

“Anytime,” he said. “Anything.”

He stood at the bottom of the stairs as you climbed them. When you reached the door, you opened it just a crack, peeking out of it with paranoid eyes, making sure no one saw you sneak out of his room.

Regret hit him like a tidal wave. He couldn’t even be mad that you were so desperate not to be seen in close quarters with him, because it was exactly the look he’d have on his face when he used to climb out of your car in the school parking lot.

This must be how you felt. He wished for a time machine so he could knock out his teenage self the way he almost knocked out the guy on the dock today. Anyone who made you feel as shitty as he did right now deserved it.

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Finally able to take a painless shower, you took your time under the hot stream of water. Carter sat on the bathroom floor, knees drawn to her chest as you recapped the crazy day.

“I literally thought you might be dead,” she explained.

“How long were we even gone? Half an hour?” You laughed lovingly at her dramatics.

“Are you serious?” 

“What, was it more?” You thought over the time you’d spent with Rafe on the water, in your mind it had flown by fast. Too fast. 

“We got back to the dock a full two hours before you showed up on your Rafe-drawn carriage,” she informed you.

You laughed heartily at the image, your cheeks tinting pink, though you told yourself the flush was just from the hot water.

“What did you guys do out there for two hours anyway?” She asked, not a fan of how silent you’d gone at the mention of Rafe’s name. 

“We just talked,” you said. 

It wasn’t a lie, but it felt like an incomplete truth.

“About?” She pried.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, “just, like, life and stuff.”

She snorted skeptically.

“What?”

“I just can’t picture Rafe Cameron having any kind of deep thoughts about life is all,” she explained.

“Well, he’s different now, I guess,” you said feebly.

“Is he though?”

That silenced you. She had a fair point, you had only been talking to Rafe again for a few days, and most of that time was spent with him asking questions about you. You didn’t know him at all really, at least not as well as you used to, not enough to make judgment calls on his character.

Yet there was this instinct that had never really gone away. An invisible tether that connected you to him in a way you’d never experienced with anyone else. He was your sixth sense, you just knew him. You always had.

“I’m gonna go grab my makeup bag,” Carter exited the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

A few moments later, she reentered the room. You felt the words deep in your chest, and even though you knew she may not like them, you needed to let them out.

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Rafe meandered upstairs, looking for Topper’s room so he could borrow a shirt. He hadn’t really packed any going out outfits, picturing himself planted on the beach the whole week. The day he packed felt like a lifetime ago, he had no idea the rollercoaster this trip would turn into. 

Down the hall, the bathroom door was open a crack, steam pouring from it as someone showered. Surely, whoever was in there didn’t intend to leave it open. He made his way towards the door to close it, but stopped short when he heard your familiar voice coming from the shower. He knew he should close the door and walk away, but your words glued him in place.

“I have to be honest with you,” you said. “I know I should hate him, but I don’t. I don’t think I’ll ever hate him.”

Rafe’s heart raced, an optimistic smile spreading across his face. He prayed that he was the ‘him’ you were referring to.

“The sad thing is, if he asked me to, I’d still give him anything he wanted,” you chuckled, surprised by your own words. “If he wanted me, I think I’d be with him.”

He’d never do it, but he seriously considered barging right into your shower and telling you “I want you, you have no idea how badly I want you.” 

But the fantasy was cut short.

“I think I’d hate myself the whole time, though,” you confessed quietly.

At that, he actually did close the door, heart sinking, wishing he could dissolve into the floor.

His whole life, people found it hard to love him. They may not say it to his face, but he picked up on more than people thought. He exhausted his family, his irresponsibility and impulsivity were a pain to them since he was a kid. He disappointed his father, he knew he wasn’t the heir to the Cameron throne Ward had hoped for. And he’d fumbled you completely, the best friend he ever had. 

Since then, everything he did was out of self-protection. He ghosted girls at school before they got the chance to reject him, he didn’t reply to texts from friends for fear of being ignored first. He picked fights and pushed people away, running from rejection like a monster in the dark.

But this week, for just a moment, he thought maybe he could finally stop running. He thought maybe he’d finally found something that was worth the risk. He had never felt so safe, so seen, as he did today when you were talking to him. 

Then your words shook him from his delusions. He could handle his family’s disappointment and his friends’ exasperation. But your resentment? Knowing that being with him made you hate yourself? He just could not afford it. He wouldn’t survive it.

Closing the bathroom door had a finality to it, the click of the handle a sign of a decision made. He would stop pursuing you. He’d get through this trip, graduate school, and finally move on. If not for his sake, for yours. He was bad for you. You knew it, Carter knew it, he knew it. For your sake and his, he decided to let you go.

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The Ubers arrived around nine. The boys were showered, dressed, and ready by 8:30, chilling on the couch watching baseball and drinking their pregame beers. Topper kept an eye on his phone, watching the little cars get closer to the house.

“Ride’s almost here and they’re really not ready,” Topper sighed.

“Did you really expect anything else?” Kelce threw back another beer.

“Wanna take it easy tonight, man?” Rafe recommended, no one needed a reminder of the damage Hurricane Kelce had caused the last time he was shitfaced.

“No, actually, I don’t,” Kelce laughed.

Rafe reached across the couch, Topper ducking out of the way of his swift arm as he snatched the beer from Kelce’s hand.

“I’m getting you some water,” Rafe said. “I’m not babysitting your drunk ass all night.”

Rafe stood over the kitchen sink, filling a glass for Kelce. The water rose over the cup’s edge and overflowed onto his hands, but he didn’t even notice. He was lost in thought, thinking about your cry after falling off the jet ski, your lip pulled between your teeth when he almost kissed you, your words in the shower…

“Thirsty?” He heard you say behind him. 

He turned to look at you, nearly dropping the glass.

Rafe was resolved. He couldn’t risk the sting of your rejection, and he couldn’t afford the price of your resentment. There would be no more chasing you, no moves made, no plays attempted. It was settled, he was done.

Then he saw you in that fucking dress. 

(Chapter 6: part two)

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

a/n: oops another two part chapter cause the word count got away from me againnnn :) will try my best to post pt 2 this weekend!

and if I wrote a bonus blurb about what happened in Carter’s bedroom what then? A smutty little Carrot Top side quest? How would we feel about that?

please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

[byechristopher]

chris & matt s– positions and places.

-HEADCANONS.

Author's note: yes, fav positions in secs. Just because I can't get some images out of my head.

Warnings: smut, obviously. Juat filthy smut, smut, smut. Minors dni!

doggystyle.. he loves, loves, loves watching your ass bounce as he's pounding into you. He'd grab and squeeze it, smack it every now and then, letting you push back against him as he stays still, "come on, baby, move."

⠀⠀

C H R I S

reverse cowgirl.. again, he loves your ass. He loves watching you work for it while he stays still and speeds up only when he feels like you're going too slow. He'd grab a fistful of hair and push your head back while bucking his hips to thrust into you harder, "you like that, ma?"

table/counter sex.. Chris is the kind of guy that would take you anywhere, anytime. I feel like he'd just see you cooking and immediately just grab you, lifting you up to make you sit on the table. He'd eat you out first, sloppy and hungry and passionate, and then fuck you then and there, "you look and taste fucking delicious."

pool/beach sex.. as I said, he'd take you anywhere. He wouldn't be able to see you in bikini without touching you, "you can't do this to me, babe." He'd push you against the wall of the pool and push your bikini to the side, rubbing his clothed cock against you, making sure no one's really looking. Not that he cares.

head.. he loves giving, as much as receiving. But he absolutely fucking loses it when you, out of nowhere, get on your knees and suck him off. Like when he's doing work, or playing, and you're just on your knees, sucking him off, spitting on it, distracting him completely. He'd tease your nipples and pinch them to push you closer and take him in deeper, "that's it.. fuuuuck."

⠀

M A T T

missionary.. Matt absolutely loves keeping eye contact while fucking you senseless. He'd want to see you losing it, to see your eyes roll to the back of your head, unable to have control over anything, "keep looking at me, pretty. Or I'll stop. And you don't want that, do you?"

cowgirl.. he'd sit up, back against the headboard so that he can see you better; he needs to see your tits bounce. He'd never let you do a thing – digging his long fingers into your hips, he'd keep you in place and fuck you mercilessly, "you're so pretty. Fuck."

against the wall.. he just loves wrapping his fingers around your neck while he's balls-deep inside of you, your legs wrapped around his slim waist, "take it, baby, take it". He'd press his forehead against yours and thrust into you deep, and hard.

car sex.. do I even have to say anything? He loves his car so much, but he loves pleasuring you more. While driving around, he'd order you take your panties off and spread your legs wide for him. He'd lick his fingers and touch you in such a delicate way, pushing his fingers inside of you gently while keeping his eyes on the road. Then, he'd stop the car somewhere private, not able to control himself, and push his pants down, making you straddle his lap and sit on his cock with his fingers still wrapped around the steering wheel, "that's my girl.."

shower sex.. that's the only time he'd have you facing the other way. He'd push you against the glass of the shower, if anyone were to see you, they'd see your tits and cheek pressed against it. His fingers would wrap themselves around your neck and push your head back as he pounds into you. He'd make you arch your back so much that even in that position, he'd still see you, even upside down, "gonna cum all over me, doll?"

Chat. I am not okay.

⠀

[afterglowsainz]

the great war | max verstappen, lando norris

pairing: max verstappen x reader x lando norris

summary: no one knows that you’re dating max and lando and everyone just assumes the worst

fc: amaya crichton

a/n: p1 and p2 in singapore… you know what that means 🤭

—

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

yourusername last few days in the big apple 🗽🍎

view all comments

username a rhode girlie yesss

username so chic i love her

username so gorgeous

username the most beautiful 🤩

username ariana what are you doing here 🤣 (max and lando)

username not them liking the same girl 🤣

username jesus is just a like chill

username so gorgeous i wish new york was real 😍

yourusername’s instagram stories

[caption 1: comfort movie💗] [caption 2: short break🌞]

liked by landonorris, yourusername and others

maxverstappen1 enjoying summer break ☀️

view all comments

username ohhh he’s with lando that’s sweet

username DAMN

username i cannot handle the second pic right now

username he’s so babygirl

landonorris 😎 (liked by maxverstappen1)

username thinking unholy thoughts 😮‍💨

martingarrix 🤪

username both at the same time

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip max verstappen and lando norris where seen enjoying the summer break together with friends

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username max 😮‍💨😮‍💨

username barking like a dog

username who’s the girl 😩😩

username wait isn’t that y/n y/l/n?

username yes! i knew i recognized her from somewhere

username who is sheee

username some influencer i think, max and lando had been liking her pictures for a while now

username ahhh she’s very pretty

username im gonna need some context as to how my girl y/n knows max and lando

liked by maxverstappen1, martingarrix and others

yourusername 🌺🌊🏝

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username BEAUTIFUL

username ughhh the prettiest

username love that bikini

username she seems like a gold digger 😭 get away

username okay i get max and lando

username girl are you with lando? or max? i gotta know 😩

username so mother

username mmm no i don’t like her

username INSANE face card

liked by maxfewtrell, magui_corceiro and others

landonorris summer days ☀️

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username cute🦦

username max the ultimate wag

username i need someone to look at me the way max looks at lando

username sir the last pic??? who are we trying to soft launch here?

username my boyfriend and his wag 😍

maxverstappen1 😊

landonorris 😚

username no cause this is a totally normal interaction

username who is he soft launching i’m not gonna be able to rest 😩

lnfour 👀

username what do you know ???

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip driver max verstappen was seen on a romantic date last night with influencer y/n y/l/n in monaco

view all comments

username i hope you’re okay knowing this information killed me

username they’re dating omggg 🥰

username they really look so cute together!

username please say sike right now 😭

username she gives me the WORST vibes i can’t

username you’re just jealous omg he’s and adult he can date whoever he wants

username why does he have such bad taste in women? 🤮

username love them! they look perfect together 😍

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip driver lando norris was seen on a romantic date earlier today at the beach with influencer y/n y/l/n in monaco

view all comments

username uhmmm what

username 😭😭😭

username is this a joke?

username see how all the girlies that were supporting y/n are very quiet now.

username is she playing both of them? HAH

username i knew she was a gold digger omg

username lando baby stand up

username this is such disgusting behavior honestly 🥱

username she doesn’t deserve any of them

username people can be friends 🤷🏽‍♀️

username bestie look at the pics again they are most definitely NOT friends

liked by f1gossip, pietra.pilao and others

f1wags influencer y/n y/l/n this weekend at the paddock. it seems she was for a little while in the mclaren garage and then she went to red bull

view all comments

username absolutely not 🤢

username can this girl be any more obvious?

username girl keeps swapping omg just pick one! or leave both of them alone!

username who invited her? no one wants her there 😭

username well if she was there someone obviously wanted her to be

username you guys just critize her all the time yet ignore how lando and max where looking at her the whole weekend

username and that’s exactly the reason … why does she have to play with their feelings like that?

username we don’t care!

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername birthday in austinnnn with my loves🧡💙

tagged landonorris and maxverstappen1

view all comments

username oh she clocked everyone and their mothers

username what were y’all bitches saying about her playing them???

username THE HARD LAUNCH ATE

username now those comments between max and lando make more sense 😭

username the hate this girl got and it was all for nothing! she’s beautiful and everyone was just jealous

pietra.pilao happy birthdayyyy 💘 (liked by yourusername)

alexandrasaintmleux happy birthday my y/n!🤍 (liked by yourusername)

username the fact no one thought they could all be dating is CRIMINAL

username hot throuple hot throuple 🚨

maxverstappen1 happy birthday liefje, ik houd van jou❤️ (i love you)

yourusername love you too max❤️

landonorris can’t say i love you in another language but i love you 3000❤️‍🩹

yourusername 😭😭😭 i love you

[finelinevogue]

to new beginnings

summary - you and harry are drunk on the streets of rome

word count - ~1k

pairing - husband!harry x reader

✨☀️💛☀️✨☀️💛☀️✨☀️💛☀️✨☀️💛☀️✨

“It’s literally this way.”

“No it isn’t.”

You tugged on Harry’s hand, attempting to make him follow you down a road - that looked like an alley - that you were sure would lead you to the main square.

Harry was insistent you were going the wrong way, but who could actually tell when you were both as drunk as each other.

Harry stood still as he watched you were drunk eyes and a soft smile, as you tried to tug him your way.

“Haarryy!”

“Y/NN!”

“Come on! I know what I’m doing.”

“No you don’t. You’re sloshed!” Harry laughed, watching you spin around in circles for whatever reason.

“I’m not sloshed… I’M IN LOVE.” You shouted to the universe, and also the unfortunate old couple that just happened to be walking past at the same time.

Before you could apologise, the old man spoke; “I remember when we were like that, Carla.”

You smiled warmly, looking from them to Harry. Harry was already smiling towards you, that spark still in his eyes for you even after 5 years together.

5 years together but only 2 days of being married.

Marriage was pretty happy so far.

“We still are.” The old woman smiled at her husband as they passed by.

You continued to walk off then, walking down the road you wanted to go down.

It was a very small and quaint alley, lots of balconies with hanging green baskets and drying clothes. You looked up at them as you passed by, your trainers padding along on the cobbled floor as you walked.

As you were in your own little world, you didn’t hear Harry sneak up on you until his arms were around your waist and lifting you up in the air to spin you around.

“Harry!” You laughed, your jaw hurting from smiling so much.

“Will you ever learn to listen to me?” He bit playfully onto your exposed shoulder, where the thin strap of your dress lay.

“Never!”

“Is that how marriage works? You being in charge?”

“Obviously.”

He safely set you on the ground and you brushed your dress-skirt down, before twirling around and throwing your arms around his neck.

“What?” He asked, smiling down at your happy face.

“I’m in charge.” You tried to say seriously, but you were too drunk to be in complete control of your face.

“Okay.” Harry gave in, kissing your forehead.

“No, I am. I really am.”

“I know.”

“That means I can control you to do loads of things for me.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Harry asked, even though he was ready to say yes to everything.

“Umm, buy me flowers every day.”

He kissed you then, “Done.”

“Okay,” You blushed, “Hmm. Come on beach walks with me every weekend - no matter how far from the coast we are.”

He kissed you again then, “Yup.”

“Uhh what about…”

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. “Yes, yes, yes. Yes to anything and everything. Boss me around all day everyday, I don’t care as long as you’re happy, my love.”

“I am. Very happy.”

You leaned up to kiss him properly then, showing him just how much you love him. You scrunched the small hair on the back of his neck and pulled him closer, moving in tandem with each other like you’d known each other a lifetime not only five years.

You pulled away first but quickly moved to kiss his jaw and leading down his neck, kissing and nipping at the skin to give him a hickey.

“Babe… No!” Harry laughed, knowing how much you loved giving him hickeys but never somewhere everyone could see.

“Nooooo.” You whined as he pulled your head away from his neck.

“Baby, you’re drunk and I’m drunk but I know we’re going to be mad at each other if you give me a public hickey. So be good and stop.”

You scrunched your face up in pretend anger.

“You’re annoying.” You kiss him on the lips once more.

“So are you.”

“That’s not very nice.” You feigned shock.

“Aww, are you sad?”

“Don’t taunt me.” You rolled your eyes.

“Lemme kiss you to make up for it.” Harry leaned in to kiss you but you shoved your hand on his face and pushed him away before he could.

You laughed as he pretended to be hurt by your action, but you ran off down the road before he could say or do anything.

He shook his head with a smile as he watched you go, nearly tripping over a cobble stone even in your flat shoes.

“Y/N/N, be careful.”

You stood at the end of the alley watching Harry still standing there with a fond smile.

“C’mon! I hear music.” You urged him.

So he came.

He wandered over to you casually, feeling like he had all the time in the world to spend with you. Every moment of his was now yours and he couldn’t be happier to share them all with you. You. He sometimes couldn’t believe he’d managed to end up with you.

You held out a hand for him and he took it, slinking his fingers through yours.

You hummed in delight and the both of you walked in silence, off towards the vibrant music of the city to dance the night to new beginnings.

[warnersister]

Personal Space (two Bradshaws like it now)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: A sequel in which you love your personal space. Unfortunately, Bradley also loves your personal space. Even more so now you’ve had a baby, apparently.

Can be read as a part 2, but doesn’t have to be. Read Personal Space here

You really didn’t know when it all happened, when you and Bradley became a thing. At first he was just an annoying crew member you couldn’t shake off your tail. Then he was your wingman. Then you got accidentally placed into marriage accommodation and the two of you played it off so you could get better housing. Then you actually bought a house. And then somewhere along the way you got married.

“Where shall we have the wedding?” Bradley asked and you raised a brow “register office” you shrug “what you don’t want a wedding?” He asks, hand on his chest as he feigns offence. “You do?” You ask and he nods vigorously. You huff. “Fine” “so shall we do it on the beach?” He asks “okay” you just go along with it, hardly even entertaining the idea at all.

“So? What do you think?” Nat asks as she makes you pivot in a white gown “I think I look like a roll of toilet paper” you said, crossing your arms “maybe it’s just not the dress for you?” She reasons and you shake your head “just not really into the whole idea of this wedding. I kinda thought we’d just sign papers and get on with it” you said “well you picked Bradshaw, he’s a drama queen at the best of times” she says and you him in agreement; your consultant leading you back to the fitting rooms “let’s try another”.

You’d left with a sleeved dress; hating the idea of having a low cut dress, and begging Nat to just let you leave. Sure, you loved the dress - but you loved the idea of getting out of that suffocating shop more.

“Hey honey” Bradley had said, hearing you walk into the house and set your keys on the kitchen counter. “Hi” you reply shortly, moving to fill your cup with water from the sink. “How was your day?” He asked, moving to rest his head on your shoulder and holding you from behind. “Good. Bought a wedding dress” you say simply “you did what?!”

Then on your wedding day, you’d stared at yourself in the mirror far too long. “You look gorgeous” Penny whispers, squeezing your shoulders comfortingly “I look like a fucking pin up doll” you huff, not necessarily believing yourself - just not used to being such a central perspective of attention. “Wow” your dad says, walking into the room “you look gorgeous” he whispers “is there an echo in here?” You mumble, but smile at him “thank you” you say, wiping the tears from under his eyes. “C’mon, Bradley’s nearly about to come get you himself”

You showed up to the beach-front wedding right on time, completely dead against the idea of being in any way, shape, or form late. Your father gave you away, Bradley in floods of tears at the end of the isle by the time you’d gotten there. “You look incredible” he whispers, lips quivering as he stares at you “shut up you’re going to make me cry.” You grumble, but smile. “It’s okay to cry.” He says, as the ceremony begins. “You may now kiss your bride” and Bradley dipped you and kissed you sweetly, drowning out the cheers of those around you. “I love you, Bradshaw.” You say, smally, “I love you more, sweetheart” he says and kisses your forehead “you’re crying” he points out “shut up”

And then you looked at the two lines on the pregnancy test two years later. You hummed “okay” and looked at yourself in the mirror, knowing nothing else other than the fact that you had to tell Bradley right that second. You marched downstairs, where he was sat playing with some keys on the piano you’d bought him last Christmas, stopping next to him. “Hey baby, y’alright?” He asked, and you just held out the stick to him. “What’s this?” He asks, taking it from you and looking over it once. “You serious?” He asked, looking at you; smile growing from ear to ear “you’re pregnant?” He almost whispers “unless the other four lied.” you say and he jumps up and pulls you into his arms, kissing all over your face until you shouted at him to stop.

He knelt down and looked at your stomach, kissing it gently then moving to put his ear against it “uh huh” he hummed “Bradley what are you-” “shush I’m talking to em” he says and you stand, unimpressed, but let him nonetheless. “Oh yeah baby, I’m excited to meet you too” he coos “yeah, yeah, I’m your dad” and you audibly giggle. He looks up at you, eyes wide “you done?” You ask and he nods “yeah little one was done talking” he smiles, and hugs you close again. “I need to get the baby clothes out of the attic” he mumbles, kissing your temple “the what?” You ask “I bought them when we started renting the house!” He says, dragging you excitedly up the stairs “but we own the house, Brad” you him “no, no, the one we had during the mission!” He says and you gasp internally, realising how long the two of you had been together without even noticing it.

“Hey dad” you say, as you and Bradley head into the hangar he and you owned “hey honey, hey Brad” your dad greets, wiping the oil from his hands to come over and talk to the two of you. He kissed your forehead and hugged you, then your husband before walking back over to the aircraft he was working on. “Thought you needed a new picture for your pinboard” you hum “oh? I just added the wedding photo!” He says, excitedly, showing you the filled gap. “Okay, guess you don’t want the sonogram of your grandchild.” You say, turning to head out before Bradley hurriedly grabbed you and turned you back into the situation, pulling the strip of photos from his breast pocket. Your dad stood with his jaw wide open “you’re-” he breathes “you’re really pregnant?” He asks as his eyes well with tears “well I wouldn’t lie-” you say but he just pulls you into a big bear hug, pinning Baby Bradshaw’s picture onto his board.

You head to go look at the part of the engine your dad couldn’t quite fix while Bradley held back with Maverick. He turns to him and shakes his hand “your dad would’ve been so proud.” He says, smiling at Bradley “I know you are.” Rooster smiles, wordlessly being pulled into a hug with his father-in-law.

Then one evening you were sat up in bed, Bradley sound asleep beside you as you look down at the barely visible bump. Bradley had sort of a sixth sense, somehow knowing you weren’t asleep beside him. “Hey, baby what’s up?” He croaks, immediately moving to sit up with you when he sees his senses were correct. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, Bradley.” You say, staring ahead at the wall “what do you mean?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I mean I’m a fighter pilot, I was raised by a single father, I never had that maternal instinct, what am I doing?” You whisper, and when Bradley managed to finally pull your face towards him you were crying “oh sweetheart” he hums, pulling you into him gently “you’re gonna be the best momma ever, and the fact that you worry proves that. I love you, okay?” He comforts “I know. I love you too.”

You were stubborn the whole pregnancy. You thought it was ridiculous that people just stopped when they were pregnant, and Bradley was trailing you trying anything to get you to just relax. “Hen, please!” He begs as you head out for your morning run “I’m three months pregnant, Bradley. I’m not incompetent.” You snap, as he begrudgingly pulls on his running shoes and follows you out the door. He pulled you back anytime you went quicker than a 10 minute mile “Bradley, if you slow me down one more time I’m going to pull your arm out of your socket” you snap and he holds his hands up “message received.”

Then one day, at around the sixth month mark you walked into the house and slammed the door so hard it rattled. “What’s up?” Bradley asked, as you practically threw your stuff on the floor. “They’re putting me on the desk.” You grumble, anger evident in your eyes while his soften “oh baby we knew that was gonna happen” he soothes, rubbing your arm reassuringly “no! No we didn’t! I was perfectly fine hiding the bump, but no!” You huff “I’m Bradley Bradshaw and all of California has to know my wife’s pregnant!” You imitate him but he just smirks “oh I’m so sorry that everyone needs to know you’re taken and carrying my baby” he says, smugly. “Don’t you smile at me Bradley-” you wag an accusatory finger at him, but he heaves you over his shoulder, and towards the stairs “c’mon, let’s help you blow off some steam” he reasons “y’know it’s possible to get pregnant while pregnant, right?” You ask and he cheers “woohoo! Two for one deal, sounds great!” He says and you can’t help but smile.

Then came your maternity leave, Bradley picked you up in his bronco. You were quick to head outside, and he kinda hated how well you hid the bump. “I’m done.” You huff, settling into the seat beside him “if that bitch from accounting asks me one more time if I want her herbal teas I’m going to knock her teeth out” you complain and Bradley chuckles “well, just me, you and Baby Bradshaw now” he says and you hum in agreement.

But when you approached your street, you rolled straight past your house and straight to the Hard Deck ‘congratulations on your baby’ banners plastered all over “welcome to our baby shower!” Bradley grins as you pull up “is this really necessary? They aren’t even here yet.” You tell him and he shrugs “thought it might take your mind off maternity leave” you smile at him “thanks, Brad”

And at one point in the evening, you sat Natasha and Bob down separately. “Hey Phoenix, can we borrow you?” Brad asked, pulling her away from her conversation “yeah of course guys!” You took a seat at a table and Bradley forced you to elevate your feet against your will. “What’s up?” She asks “how’d you like to be godmother to little Bradshaw?” Her eyes lit up when Bradley asked and she leant over the table to hug the two of you “oh I’d love too!” She announces, excitedly.

Then you head over to Bob, but Phoenix holds Rooster back “they have a special connection, let her do this”. You sit on the stool next to Bob and he offers you some peanuts which you refuse, and you stay sat in silence for a minute. “Bob can I ask you something?” You ask, as he pulls your calves up to rest in his lap “of course, hen” he says, brushing some crumbs off his top “what’s up?” “Well, the job we’re in isn’t an old job” you say and he laughs and agrees “it’s also dangerous” you say, and again - he nods. “So if anything happens to me and Brad, can you be there for little Bradshaw?” His eyes widen and start to swell with tears “will you be our godfather?” You ask and he nods, moving to miss your cheek “of course I will, hen. I’d be honoured.”

Bradley and you had started putting together your hospital bag at the 8 month mark. You were both premature so had a bit of superstition, especially with only being a few weeks off of the 40 mark. You’d placed the bag by the front door, along with a baby carrier in the middle seat of his Bronco.

It was week 38 when you were both putting together the crib beside your bed, two spare bedrooms and still you only wanted your baby beside you. “Okay all done, baby” your husband said “okay. My water broke three minutes ago” you say as calmly as he had, he nods, then whips his head back round “your water broke?” He asks and looks down, and indeed, your water had broken “oh my god your water broke?!” He announced, picking you up bridal style and carrying you out to the bronco, picking the hospital bag up on the way. “Ready to have a baby?” He asks, giddily. “Am I supposed to be?” You ask and he shakes his head with a smile “no”

You were dead silent during birth and it scared the shit out of Bradley. “Do you want an epidural, honey? They’ve offered-” “no.” “Can I get you more ice?” “No.” And he tried everything, even when it was time to push. You held his hand and your mouth was zipped shut. “Is she supposed to be this quiet?” He asked the doctor who just looked at him nonchalantly “it’s normal, all mothers react differently to birth” he said. “I’m a fighter pilot Bradley. I’ve had worse.” You grit. “Breathe baby” he tells you “I think you need to.” You say “stop being dramatic” you say as you push again “honey-” “either shut up or get out.” You tell him and he glues his mouth shut, at least until the baby comes.

Bradley cuts the chord and they hand you your baby, and your eyes widen as you stare at the baby on your chest “welcome to the world Nick Bradshaw” you coo at the baby and Bradley raised his brows “Nick?” He asks, voice cracking “what? Got a problem with that? You and your stupid dick” you grumble and Bradley laughs and shakes his head, kissing your forehead.

“Hey mom, shall we take baby so you can get some rest?” The nurse asked, leaning to take Nick from your arms “excuse me?” You asked, pulling your baby closer. “So you can sleep?” She suggests “I’ve carried him for nine months and now he’s here you’re taking him away?” You ask “well, some mothers like to sleep” “I can sleep when I’m dead.” You deadpan, and she realised that Nick wouldn’t have been pried from your hands even if you were dead, so she left you all alone.

“Taking you away from mommy? Who does she think she is?” You whisper to baby Nick. “Welcome back to the world, Bradshaw.” You say and Bradley can only smile and hold the two of you close.

You’re going to be just fine in this mommy role.

——————————

Part 2-ish? I know it was really well liked and I enjoyed writing it so hope you enjoy this one too!

-> @rosiahills22 here’s another one!

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 4 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Nobody is more surprised that Jake asked you to spend the night than Jake himself. But somehow he's sweeter with you around, and every time he touches you, he wants to be the best.

Warnings: adult language, sexual touching, oral sex, fingering, cum play, 18+

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

When you woke up, your body was warm even though you could feel cool air on your face. Everything smelled good, and when you moved a bit, you realized you were a little sore. The distant sound of waves crashing kept you relaxed even as you started to recognize that something out of the ordinary was definitely happening. When you flexed your fingers, you realized you were touching someone else.You jolted a bit as your eyes flew open, and you were met with a handsome face, green eyes and a smirk.

"Morning, Darlin'."

"Jake," you croaked, voice unprepared for the immediate wave of relief you felt when you recognized who you were with. But then you stared at him in surprise. He invited you to spend the night. After he made you come. Twice. After he'd had his mouth all over your body. "Jake," you murmured again, trying to fight the urge to kiss him and see how rough his stubbled cheeks felt now.

He responded by collecting you against his chest so you were mostly on top of him, and he stroked his finger along your lips. "You sleep okay?" When you nodded, he smiled and said, "Me too. Want me to make some breakfast?"

You tried to bite your lip and act cool. You wanted to respond to him the way any other hookup he had sleep over might, but instead you blurted out, "I liked what you did to me. With your mouth."

Jake's smile grew, and he carefully rolled you onto your back. "Is that right?" he asked, bracing himself above you with thick biceps and messy hair.

"Your hands, too," you whispered with a nod, and then his mouth was on yours. You were immediately curling your fingers into his hair and shifting your legs beneath him as he nibbled on your lips. The stubble felt a little rougher than last night, and you desperately wanted to feel it everywhere. 

He seemed to know what you were thinking as he kissed his way to your ear and softly asked, "You want me to do it again, don't you?"

You barely spoke the word, but he was already moving as soon as you said, "Yes." When he shifted the covers, you felt the cool air on the rest of your naked body, and you watched him ease himself lower until he was eagerly kissing your belly button. Then, without hesitation, Jake's mouth was on your pussy, and he was coaxing your legs further apart with his big hands. "Oh," you whimpered, head turning on the pillow to look out the window at the perfectly clear morning as the ocean crashed onto the beach somewhere in the distance.

Was this what it would be like to have a boyfriend? Waking up to oral sex before breakfast whenever you let Jake know you wanted it? Not that you'd be with Jake. But you could probably be with Cooper. Maybe he'd treat you to his mouth just like this. 

Your legs shook slightly as Jake sucked on your clit, and then all coherent thoughts vanished. His grip on your thighs tightened, and he plucked you with his lips, something you had no idea would feel that good.

"You like that?" he asked, swirling his tongue around your clit as you pulled on his hair. "You can tell me what you like. I want to know."

You moaned and let your eyes close as his soft breath teased you. "I like this a lot. It feels better than I thought it would."

Jake chuckled, sucked on your clit a little harder, and then pulled his mouth away, making your legs shake even more. "You like it a little rough," he grunted, and your legs spread open wider for him. "And you're so sensitive." Instead of feeling any shame, you rolled your hips up to his mouth. "Needy, too," he drawled with a grin before licking you up and down.

It was the steady rhythm with just the right amount of pressure that had you whining nonstop, and then your whines turned to loud moans, and then you heard yourself begging Jake to make you come. "Please! Oh my god! Please!" You were so close, gently clenching around nothing, but his unhurried movements seemed to make it better the longer it took. Your heart was pounding and your vision wavered a bit as he worked his tongue up, down and around. But when he pulled your clit between his lips one last time, he got you there.

Your voice sounded raw as you loudly got off, pleasure washing over you until you weren't moving or talking at all. When you cracked one eye open, Jake's green eyes were wild as he looked up at you from his spot between your thighs, and you tried to reach for him. Your arms felt heavy, and you giggled softly as you whispered, "You told me to tell you what I like."

"Yeah," he grunted, cheeks flushed pink as he kissed your thigh.

"Well, Jake, I really, really like getting head. I thought maybe when I came last night that it was a fluke and it wouldn't ever happen again," you rambled. "But then it did, and now I'm thinking you might be some sort of sex god? You can get me off way better than I can get myself off."

"Fuck." 

He was breathing heavily, and that's when you realized he was touching himself. His naked body and hard cock were perfection to look at, but as you sat up, he moved away from you. You licked your lips and watched him palm himself. "Are you going to fuck me now? Should I get my condoms?"

"Darlin'," he groaned. "Just... I need a minute. I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Then he vanished into this bathroom.

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

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Jake tried his best to be quiet as he jerked himself off with four strong pumps of his hand around his cock. He was never quite this keyed up around a woman to begin with, and then you had to go and ask him if he was going to fuck you. He laughed at his facial expression in the bathroom mirror. No way he could have fucked you like this. He would have lasted two minutes, tops. 

He couldn't imagine anything worse for your first time than a guy who was so worked up, he came almost immediately. He knew he shouldn't be reacting to you like a teenager with no self control, but you really got him going. As he cleaned himself up, he licked his lips, and he could still taste you there. He could still smell you on his skin.

"No," he groaned, knowing it would be all too easy to get hard for you again if he let it happen. He needed to cook breakfast and reevaluate if he could actually handle fucking you, but when he walked out of the bathroom, you were still sprawled out on his bed, naked and gently trailing your fingers along your tummy.

"I thought you were going to meet me in the kitchen," he said, desperately hoping his bathroom activity wasn't so loud that you knew exactly what he had done.

You turned your hazy gaze toward him as you sat up, and Jake was honestly surprised by how fucking good you looked in his bed when smiling at him across the room. "Can I borrow something to wear? If my leather skirt is impractical for getting fucked in, it's probably not much better for eating breakfast in."

The fact that your little skirt was still on his kitchen floor from last night hadn't escaped him. Neither had the fact that he still hadn't actually fucked you. He wanted to. God, he wanted to. And that starry-eyed expression on your innocent looking face wasn't helping him stay soft.

"Come here," he coaxed, turning toward his dresser and yanking open a drawer. "Pick what you want to wear."

You sashayed over to him, slipping your warm body under his arm when he held it out for you. "Anything I want?" you asked.

Jake nodded as he looked down at your pert nipples and kissed your temple. "Anything you want. And then I'll make you breakfast."

His hand slid down to your hip as you reached for one of his gym shirts and a pair of his athletic boxer briefs with the stretchy waistband, and he grabbed a pair of clean underwear for himself. 

Once you were dressed, you smirked and asked, "How do I look?"

Jake grunted and shook his head in response. The tee shirt you'd selected was one that he tore the sleeves off of, and when you turned in a small circle for him, he could see your breasts through the sides. "Cute," he drawled as you met his gaze. "And I can see your tits, so that's always a plus." When you realized what he was talking about, you tucked your arms against your sides which made him laugh. "You're worried about that now? Darlin', I've already seen and touched every inch of you."

When you tried to duck your head in embarrassment, he reached for your chin and asked, "What do you want for breakfast?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "Whatever you usually eat is fine."

He guided you out of his bedroom as he said, "I hope you're hungry then."

"I actually did work up an appetite," you replied in your sassy tone as his hand slid down to cup your ass. "Maybe you did, too? You were working pretty hard, Jake."

"Have a seat, Smartass," he murmured, pulling out one of the stools at his kitchen island for you. Then he bent to pick your skirt up from the floor and waved it in the air before tossing it toward the couch in the living room. He honestly was a little worn out, and he hadn't even properly fucked you yet. As he turned on his coffee maker and pulled bacon and eggs from his refrigerator, he realized he was already thinking about what you might want to eat for dinner. He also realized he wanted you to still be around at dinnertime, which was an absolute anomaly for him; most women didn't make it to the morning after. 

"Do you need help with anything?" you asked him, elbows propped on the island. He wasn't sure if you were showing off your tits on purpose at his point or if he was just lucky that you happened to choose that shirt.

"Nah. Conserve your energy. You still have a lot to learn."

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

You watched as shirtless Jake cooked bacon and eggs while a pot of coffee brewed. His movements were graceful, which made sense for a fighter pilot, but he was also humming along to some unknown song which made you smile with how intimate it all felt. He even leaned in to kiss your cheek when he handed you a new wine glass full of ice water, and you couldn't help but grin like a lunatic. You were getting the full sleepover experience with this man. 

When he turned off the stove burner and started to plate the food, you said, "You know, you still haven't fucked me yet."

His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile. "I thought you said you were enjoying getting head."

"I am," you said with an eye roll. "But I was promised a full dicking down."

Now he was laughing in spite of himself as a mug of hot coffee and a plate of delicious smelling breakfast were set down in front of you. "I already told you that you still have a lot to learn about sex."

As he slid into the seat next to yours, you poked at your eggs with your fork. "Please," you scoffed. "It's not that complicated. I've watched porn before."

Jake chuckled and shook his head, shoving a huge bite of food into his mouth. He studied you as he chewed, and then he asked, "So you think that makes you an expert on sex?"

"I mean... the porn I watched was hot," you admitted. "I touched myself and got off. Not that complicated." You blew on your mug of coffee and stole a glance at him as he grunted.

"Nothing wrong with that, but it's inauthentic."

Your eyes went wide. "What? You don't like to watch porn?"

Jake casually took another bite of food before he murmured, "I didn't say that.... I said it's not real."

You let his words circle around your mind as you bit into the perfectly cooked bacon. "But you don't need to have real feelings for someone to sleep with them. Even I know that much."

When his big hand settled on your thigh, you had to suck in a deep breath to stay calm. "I don't want you to have unrealistic expectations. Those people are getting paid to fake multiple orgasms. You don't always get off like that in real life."

"You always get me off." 

As soon as the words were out of your mouth, his fingers were tightening on your leg, digging into your flesh. His pupils were wide, the green of his eyes, fading into neediness. His voice sounded deeper now.

"Time for lesson five: not all guys are the same. Just because I'm more than happy to take the time to make sure you're feeling pleasure, that doesn't mean it'll always be that way." When his lips brushed the side of your neck, you moaned. "I know you like the way that feels. I like it too, Darlin'. But you can't learn what chemistry and intimacy are like without experiencing them for yourself. But not every experience you have with men is going to be a good one. Especially if you don't pay attention to the lessons."

"Okay," you agreed as your lips met his. "I'll pay attention to the lessons."

Jake's lips were gentle and perfect as he returned all of your kisses. "What was lesson five?" he asked as his hand made its way higher up your thigh.

"Not all guys are as good as you are," you moaned.

"Fuck. Close enough," he confirmed, pulling you onto his lap so you were facing him. You knew you'd let him do whatever he wanted to, and you ended up straddling his thighs with your pussy resting right on his cock through two layers of thin fabric. You could feel that he was a little hard, and your lips parted wordlessly as you made a desperate sound. "It's okay," he promised, one big hand sliding down to your lower back as you rolled your hips inadvertently.

"Jake," you gasped, surprised by your reaction to him even after spending the night in his bed.

"I know, Darlin'," he crooned. "I want it, too. But I need you to be patient. Finish your breakfast like a good girl, and then lesson six will start on the couch."

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

Eventually, the two of you finished eating while you shared one seat, and then you started pulling him toward the living room. "I'm ready for my next lesson," you practically sang, but he dug his feet in. He was a little concerned that another trip to the bathroom first was necessary, but he just wanted to get that shirt off of you. It left nothing to the imagination anyway, and he was convinced you were teasing him at this point.

"You don't even know what the lesson is," he reminded you as you came to a stop.

"Doesn't matter. I already know I'm going to like it," you whined, turning so he could see into the side of the shirt.

"Brat," he whispered, reaching for your chin so he could kiss you before you started pulling him toward the couch again. "Lesson six covers masturbation and mutual masturbation."

Your pretty lips were pursed as he held you there, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "What's mutual masturbation?" you asked innocently, and Jake was already twitching in anticipation.

He released you and took you by the hand instead. "You touch yourself. And then I touch you."

Jake dropped down onto the couch, and you stood between his splayed legs, an eager look on your face. "Do I get to touch you?"

Even as he examined you before him, he groaned in need; he'd have blue balls again soon enough, but he needed to stay focused. "Get undressed," he whispered, and you did exactly as you were told. Shit. This was already the most gratifying weekend he could remember. As you pulled his gym shirt over your head, he leaned in closer and kissed around your belly button. Then when you yanked his boxer briefs down your hips, he kissed your pussy. And damn it if you didn't moan his name.

It took all his willpower not to bend you over the coffee table and fuck that pretty pussy from behind, but if you could be patient, so could he. "Turn around," he said, voice deep and harsh, and then he was presented with your ass as you glanced back at him over your shoulder. "Okay, Darlin'. Have a seat."

Jake bit back a groan as you settled onto his lap with your back pressed to his bare chest, and he had to kiss along your shoulder until he had composure. Then he let one big hand rest low on your belly while the other slipped up your soft body toward your breasts. "Spread your legs for me," he coaxed, tracing little shapes along your inner thigh. He kissed the side of your neck as you shifted a bit. "That's a good girl. Now I want you to touch yourself."

"How?" you asked, turning to meet his eyes over your shoulder.

He kissed your cheek and whispered, "However it feels good."

"Okay." You pressed your lips together, and Jake leaned to his left to watch your fingers slide along your skin and down to your pussy. Your head tipped back against his shoulder, and you worked at it for a few minutes, legs barely shifting at all against his. He could feel the muscles in your arm flexing, but eventually you made a frustrated sound.

Jake kissed your ear and said, "You told me earlier that I can get you off way better than you can get yourself off. Why do you think that is?"

"Because you know what you're doing?" you complained. 

"Perhaps," he chuckled. "But you also react differently to a partner than you do to your own touch." He let his fingers trail up from your thigh to stroke your slit as he gently bit your shoulder, and you arched your back in response.

"That feels so good," you gasped. "So much better."

He kissed the soft skin behind your ear and whispered, "You can touch yourself, too." You let your hands settle on your tits, and he added, "There you go. You're an excellent student." He dragged his thumb down over your clit and you jerked in his lap. 

"Do it again," you begged. "Please?" you whined, and he pressed a little harder but kept his pace slow. "I love it when you touch me."

"Fuck." With another gentle kiss to your neck, Jake whispered, "Making you feel good is a pleasure." His cock was once again painfully hard as you ground your ass against him, and he wondered if you'd even notice if he came in his underwear. Chances are you wouldn't if he could get you in that hazy, post-orgasm state again. God, he was already kind of obsessed with that fucked out expression you got after he did a number on you.

When he pinched your clit, you made a sound that could rival one of the porn stars you'd apparently watched, and Jake had to bite his lip. "No, no, no," he coaxed when you tried to close your legs. "Nice and wide, or I'll stop." 

You reacted by spreading your legs further apart when he stopped touching you for a split second, and Jake's lips curled into a smirk as you whined again. Now you were getting wet, further evidence that he got to you as much as you were getting to him. He wanted to fuck you, feel you squeeze him tight while he got you off. Before he knew what he was doing, he had two fingers buried deep in your pussy, and you were gasping his name.

"Jake." Your hands were scrambling to reach for his thighs, and he pumped his fingers deeper. He meant to take his time with you, he really did, but you were too fucking hot, and you trusted him to make you feel good.

"Do you like that, Darlin'?" he asked.

You nodded vigorously, back arched, head tipped back against his shoulder. Jake fucked you with two fingers while he stroked your clit with his thumb until he felt like his wrist was going numb. He wanted to suggest switching positions, but he could tell how close you were. He finger fucked you nice and hard, the wet sounds music to his ears.

"Come on," he coaxed, kissing your shoulder as you squeezed his thighs with both hands. Your soft whine got louder and louder, and when you rolled your hips forward, Jake pressed on your clit until you shook against him.

"Oh my god," you moaned, your pussy gripping his fingers, and he realized he was absolutely going to need to excuse himself once again. But you wiggled out of his grasp and turned around on his lap, eyes wild as you panted, still working through your orgasm. He was about to tell you he needed the bathroom, but your lips found his, and he devoured all the little sounds you made.

Your kisses were absolutely fucking filthy, all tongue and teeth, and he held onto your waist with his slick fingers as you had your way with him. "I want to feel you," came your soft whine, and before he knew what was happening, you were reaching your hand into the front of his underwear. "Please, let me touch you."

"No, no, I need a minute," he protested, but you wrapped his cock up in your warm fist and gave him a tug that had him thrusting up for more. "Oh... feels good," he gasped. Then you ran the tip of his cock through your slick pussy while you watched in wonder, and Jake knew this wasn't going to end well if he didn't excuse himself immediately. "Darlin'," he groaned, but you just licked your lips and met his gaze while you teased yourself.

"I know what you did in the bathroom earlier," you whispered, voice dripping with pleasure as you rubbed yourself against him in your hand. "I know you were hard last night, too. I know you touched yourself, but you didn't have to. I would have touched you if you let me. I wanted to."

Jake rubbed his hand over his face before he pulled you closer with both of his hands on your hips. "You're killing me."

You just looked at him, uncertainty in your eyes now as you stroked him slowly through your pussy. "Do you like this? Does it feel good?"

Like the perfect student you were, you'd already learned how to ask him the same things he'd been asking you. "I'm pretty sure I'd like anything you do." Now your smile was sincere, and you leaned in to kiss him softly. He let you keep going for another few strokes before he murmured, "But you need to stop, because I'm going to come."

You gasped and said, "I want you to," before kissing him harder. "I want to make you have an orgasm."

Technically, you'd already given him two orgasms, they just didn't happen while you and he were in the same room. And he couldn't see himself shaking you in time to try to make it to the bathroom now, so he leaned back a little bit and let you watch him slowly lose his composure for you.

"Oh my god, Jake," you whispered, jerking him a little harder with a bit more finesse than he expected from you. Then you gently touched his balls with your free hand and asked, "Are you close?"

"I fucking am now," he panted, head tipped back. He squeezed his eyes closed for a beat, and whispered, "Jesus Christ." Then as soon as he opened his eyes, he was painting up your tummy and your pussy with his cum, and you squealed in delight with a big smile on your face. "Oh shit." 

You jerked him off until he was drained and the mess he made was starting to drip onto your thighs. Then he got to watch you run your finger through his cum before raising it to your lips, and you moaned softly and smiled when you tasted him. He reached up to cup your cheek and guide your lips back to his while he gently removed your other hand from his cock. He wanted to taste it, too. But he wanted to taste it in your mouth.

He was treated to you running your fingers casually through his cum while you lay curled up on him with the sticky mess coating the both of you. He had his arm wrapped around you while you licked at your fingertip and asked him, "Are all penises as big as yours? You look the same size as the guys in the porno. Will you let me try to give you a blowjob? I really, really want to. And when are you going to fuck me?"

He took your chin gently between his fingers again and swept his tongue along yours before kissing you softly to stop your rambling. "Just be patient, Darlin'. We'll get there," he promised with a grin.

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

It's hard to be patient with Jake around just doling out the orgasms. But the dynamic is slowly changing, and he might be the one who really needs some reassurance here. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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[maybank5]

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐞

pairing ⤜ yn x jj

summary ⤜ a happy future fic, because we need some healing; jj on the beach with his family reflecting on his life.

a/n ⤜ how are we doing fam? me? not so well. this has been the hardest fictional moment that's ever hit me. i'm choosing to believe our boy is still off somewhere and gonna have the best, most fulfilled and loving future. sending hugs and love to each of you!!

song inspo ⤜ no song inspo for this one; but i did have 'nights in white satin' on repeat as i wrote

The sun is setting over the horizon, sinking down into the ocean and melting into streams of gold and orange against the shimmering water. JJ Maybank perches on his surf board for a moment, admiring it. He's never considered himself to be the most religious of people. Sure, he attended Sunday school as a kid, knows the bible stories decently enough; and yeah, there's times when he catches himself praying. Like the time John B got into that nasty accident, or when his son was born. There'd been complications, things had been touch and go for a moment. JJ had pressed his head against the glossy white wall of the hospital waiting area, hoping to God that things would be okay, as John B and Sarah rubbed his back comfortingly.

The one time JJ didn't pray might have been the one time he should. He'd been stabbed, by his son of a bitch father. Not Luke, the "real one" though JJ found it almost funny how he preferred to think of Luke fuckin' Maybank as his actual father. At least Luke had never tried to stab him. But that was beside the point; JJ had been stabbed, and things were not looking good. John B had felt for a pulse and had felt nothing. JJ can still remember the feeling of floating away, like riding a wave to the horizon. He hadn't prayed then. Instead, he'd made peace with his fate. He'd lived a pretty damn full life in 20 years, and if this was the end of it, so be it. At least on the other side, no one would be trying to hurt him, right? That sounded mighty nice to him. So he'd closed his eyes and let himself drift off towards that horizon.

Only instead, he'd woken up in a hospital, still very much alive. His best friends at his side. Pope and Kiara barely left his side, and John B had practically crawled into the bed with him to hold him in his arms until a nurse had yelled at him. JJ doesn't remember feeling such love until that moment. And that was when it all changed. He'd been given a second chance, and an opportunity to see just how loved and valued he is. He was never going to squander it or take it for granted again.

The sun is sinking lower, the water in front of him glittering in gold. JJ pushes his wet hair back off his forehead to admire it. Years ago he'd have just shrugged it off. Sunsets were a dime a dozen. Not anymore though. Now JJ takes the moment to sit and watch and appreciate.

He glances back to the shore, where his wife and baby are playing in the sand. Harley John Maybank's (it'd be a cold day in hell if JJ ever took the name of that man) new favorite thing was trying to rush to the water, his mom and dad hot on his heels. JJ could tell already that Harley was going to be a handful, and he couldn't fucking wait.

The waves were rising higher. It'd make for a sick surf tonight. JJ bites his lip, turns and paddles back to the shore. Some priorities rank higher than waves.

He tucks his board under his arm and hurries over to where the two of you are building a sandcastle with Harley's little castle-shaped buckets.

"Hey, baby," you glance up at your husband, reaching out and touching his cheek with his hand, always little assurances like that to make sure he's real, "Not surfing?"

"Nah," JJ shakes some water from his head, "Much rather'd build sand castles with this little one," he ruffles Harley's head of blonde hair, glistening in the sunlight.

You can't help but smile as he sinks down into the damp sand to help Harley stuff sand into his buckets. Moments like these is when it truly hits you, just how blessed you are.

JJ gently helps Harley, his eyes so soft and full of love and devotion. Harley John is his utmost pride and joy. He's always been soft with you, but the gentleness in which he treats your son is beyond anything you could imagine.

JJ packs the sand into the bucket with the back of a little plastic shovel. He wonders if maybe there was a time he'd done this as a boy, but shakes the thought from his head. It doesn't matter. He can do it now. He can do it with Harley.

"Sarah called earlier," your voice pulls JJ from his thoughts, "She and John B are going to have Baby Jackson christened. John B is supposed to ask you to be the godfather tomorrow, but Sarah couldn't wait to tell me. You know the two of them, it's not a church thing or anything. Just The Pogues and the ocean."

"Sounds nice," JJ says, wrapping his arms around Harley and pulling him softly onto his lap.

JJ reaches for your hand, pulling you to him as well. He presses a kiss the back of your hand, holding your hand and running his thumb over your knuckles. Nothing ever feels one hundred percent real unless JJ can feel it, touch it, revel in it. He tosses his head back as the evening breeze licks through his hair.

And in that moment, JJ can't help but stop and say thank you.

Because JJ Maybank lives every day in paradise.

[cranberrymoons]

thinking about buck buckley who is sad and lonely and 26 years old. he was evan until just a few months ago and now he is sitting on a therapist’s couch on his day off from work because four months into a job that he loves, he watched a man die in front of his eyes. he’s been traveling and wandering and roaming around for seven years and he misses his sister and he hates his dad and he wishes his mom cared about him enough to ask where he is, and all he has is this job that he’s just sort of fallen into because he moved to LA on a whim after a guy in a peruvian beach bar smiled at him and asked, and sure he doesn’t really know why he tripped over his feet to follow this random man back to california, or why he put himself through an EMT intensive just so he could make it into the fire academy in a city he’s never been to before, or where he’s going next (because he’s always going somewhere next), but he knows that for now – or maybe until now, now that he’s seen someone die – he loves this job. and so he’s sad and lonely and just wants to shut off his brain and the person in front of him is actually listening to him talk, but then he pushes one inch in the wrong direction and the valve that he’d started to open up gets slammed back shut and he Feels Better because okay. okay. he doesn’t have to think about being sad or lonely or missing his sister or chasing a guy with a pretty smile halfway across the western hemisphere or anything else anymore, at least not for the next few minutes, and then he can go home to the house he shares with six other people, and he can fall asleep and not think about any of it ever again. until the next morning when he wakes up and remembers that he is sad and alone and misses his sister.

[billiesguitar]

𐙚𓏲⋆ ִֶָ ๋𓂃 ⋆ᡣ𐭩 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐜

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ────

ᯓᡣ𐭩𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲!𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨 …..

…is always touching you in some kind of way, even if he’s just touching your hand or petting you hair, he enjoys touching you.

…likes to listen to you speak. He’s usually a big talker but when you come around, he’ll sit down and listen to you yap about anything.

…phone is filled with pictures of you and stuff that you like so he can buy it for you. Anything that relatively reminds him of you will be screenshotted and saved to his phone.

…loves spending his money on you, doesn’t matter what it is or how expensive, he’ll do literally anything to see that pretty smile.

…hates when you’re busy. “C’mon, I’m boredd,” he whines as you get ready for and event. “Chris, I really do have to go, but I’ll bring you something, okay?”

…always taking you out somewhere. You two are always on some kind of side quest alone. Even if it’s just to the beach or the mall, you two are always outside somewhere.

[sturnslcver]

Being bsf with nick but Chris likes reader and always tries to be near her

ੈ✩‧₊˚STUCK ADJACENT ˚.°: ₊˚ ୨

 — chris sturniolo x fem reader —

— fluff, no warnings!

“can we try somewhere else we always go there?” you roll your eyes, slipping your socks on. “all the other boba shops around here taste like hand sanitizer” nick protested. “you’re going to all the wrong spots” you reply swiping nicks phone from his hands. “this place!” you point to his phone. “my sister used to take me here all the time. it’s actually good i swear” nick sighs, making his way toward the counter to retrieve his keys. he glances around before shouting for chris. “yeah?” “wheres my keys?” no response. chris’ footsteps thud as he hops downstairs. “what?” “i can’t find my keys” nick complains. chris points to the door. “i hung them up. where are you guys headed?” “boba shop” you vaguely retort. “can i go?” “uhh.. i don’t know. if nicks okay with it, im okay with it.” you smile. nick turns back toward chris. “no.” before chris can utter a rebuttal nick cuts him off. “you don’t even like boba” “sorry chris.” you shrug your shoulders. he sighs, slowly making his way back toward his room.

a couple hours pass. your stomachs full of strawberry and matcha boba. you and nick walking across the beach, exchanging laughs and comical remarks. it’s already pitch black out. you’re interrupted with multiple vibrations emitting from your phone, lighting up the screen. it’s chris. you briefly skim his messages reading, “when are you guys getting back?” and “are you on the way?” you nudge nick with your shoulder, revealing your texts to him. “let’s just go. it’s dark already anyways.” nick huffs.

nick closes the door behind you both as you slip off your uggs. you take his empty cup in your hands, disposing of both yours and his. “hey” chris appears from outside the hallway. “what’s up?” you sigh, bringing your phone up, showing chris his previously sent messages. “i don’t know. matts already laying down and i’m bored.” nick weaves through the both of you and plops himself down on the couch. “do you guys wanna watch a movie then?” you look at chris and nod before heading for the couch. you immediately take notice to how close chris seats himself to you. the sides of your legs and arms are practically touching. “chris” you mumble slightly annoyed before scooting a bit. throughout the movie, he just inches his way back in. you accept defeat and exhale, bringing your head to his shoulder and crossing your arms. his hair tickles your cheek as he begins to contort different shapes around your leg with his finger. you move your leg, gently brushing him off. he starts up again. this time, on your arm.

growing irritated with chris, you stand and make your way to nicks room. “i’m just gonna head up” you pause turning to nick. he nods before you’re back on your way. chris leans forward, shuffling up behind you. he trickles his fingers lightly beside your waist. you quickly shove them away. “chris!” you hiss at him, in a stern whisper. he throws his hands in the air, turning toward his bedroom, as you head to nicks.

your awoken by a backhand to your cheek. you turn to see nick, shuffling in his sleep. you lean up a little to check the time. it’s only one in the morning. you toss and turn in attempt to fall back asleep and fail miserably. you sigh before sitting upright and gently tiptoeing to the door, careful not to wake nick.

you leave two soft knocks at chris’ door, in hopes he’s still awake. “yeah?” he calls out. “hey” you smile creaking the door open. “what’s up?” chris replies. you shut the door and make your way to his bed, sitting on the edge. “i don’t know. i can’t sleep.” chris pats the bed, signaling you to scoot up next to him, with his arms open. you oblidge. “that’s okay” he speaks softly into your hair, pushing it out of your face. “you can sleep in here tonight, if you want?” you nod, relieved. “sorry for yelling at you earlier…but really? what’s up with you lately?” you chuckle. chris runs his knuckles softly up and down your arm and sighs. “i don’t know” “yeah you do.” you imply smiling. “i guess… i just like to be around you.” he admits. “and i really wanted to be with you today.” you run a hand through chris’ hair. “you could’ve just said so. i would’ve made time for you” “yeah?” “yeah.” you reassure. you lean into chris, attentive to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, while also tracing different shapes around his chest. he scratches your back and you immediately melt into his touch. he then brings his unoccupied hand around you, intertwining both of your fingers. you feel his warm and steady breaths in the crook of your neck as the both of you doze off into one another.

sorry i gave up halfway through. this took so long. i wrote like half and it didn’t save and i had to rewrite it. i hope it’s not too bad. keep the requests coming :) im responding to all of them rn!!

[chrissdollie]

rapper!chris x singer!reader hcs

a/n: lowkey a collab with @bambi-slxt bc of all the headcanons she sent me LMAOO thank u sweets!! <3

SFW

chri$ is definitely one of the more "soft" rappers. everyone knows that hes a lovesick puppy for you. he doesnt have ONE line including the words "my bitch". instead he replaces them with "my girl" OR "my wife" :((

i think he would 100% make an album fully dedicated to you. kinda like tyler the creator's "call me if you get lost" in a way. for example, in the song "HEAVEN TO ME", tyler explains his dreams. chris would rap about all of the things he wants to do with you and how he sees you in his life forever

he has many features on peace on the beach with my peach since its partially about your guys' sweet relationship! theres moments in the record where there are beautiful beats paired with your heavenly vocals and cute voice cracks while chri$ is dropping barssss (ill make a post ab lyrics i think he'd add)

sososososo supportive of your creative journey. he was with you as you wrote and planned out your extremely personal debut. he even helped out at the studio :c

but then you started adventuring some time after your 2nd-3rd album. you started experimenting with different genres/styles. you created storylines and visuals along with your music.

out of the two of you, chri$ is definitely more famous. anyhow, he got invited to the met gala and had u has his plus one obviously, where you both looked drop dead gorgeous!! i literally cannot see him wearing a basic ass suit and tie to the met. he has to be on your level and match your uniqueness which make you two stand out so much!

when you both got up the steps, he was being interviewed by emma chamberlin, who was also a fan of his. she asked about the creative process of his newly released album and he totallyy put you in the spotlight, saying "yn helped me a lott honestly. she's... literally a genius." he grins, turning to you while keeping his hand on your waist.

you guys like toying with the paparazzi when they're bothering you. you goofballs make silly faces right in the cameras so they back off

one time when you were being interviewed, your sweet boy wrapped his arms around your waist as he listened to you talk. you were a little nervous and stuttered a bit, but chris consoled you by rubbing small circles into your waist and whispering a gentle "it's okay baby" to your ear.

you fangirl on stage when you catch your boyfriend's eyes in the front row. sometimes you entirely stop what you're singing just to giggle and squeal "hiiii honey!!" while twirling your hair like a little girl. the audience cheers with screams when they realize chris is with them in the crowd-- but feels like its only you two in the stadium when he blows you a kiss (some corny shit he never thought he'd do) and mouth the words "i love you".

for the holidays, u two visit homeless shelters and childrens hospitals and perform for everybody <3

imagine just hanging out at the studio with him and your guys' friends. he's manspreading on a leather couch while massaging your feet resting in his lap as you write lyrics in your lap, your friends helping you out as you do.

you knew that somewhere down the line there was going to be some kind of beef. a popular rapper decided to call out chris for something he did years ago as a literal child. you both ignore it until he sends out a tweet about you. something around, "nd his bitch bad asf id hit fs but she a fuckin weirdass childish mf"

you ignore the fact he called u a "weirdass childish mf", you cant care less, many people dont vibe with ur ideas and thats okay!

u do however care about how his girlfriend would react to seeing him wanting to fuck you. and you'd met her before too, she was a little snobbish, but respectful nonetheless. you joked to your boyfriend about dropping your own diss track on him, but he actually seem intrigued. you shut it down almost immediately though, you didn't wanna make something small such a big deal

but at the next big event you guys went to, you found the rapper's girlfriend and showed her his tweet. she thanked you with a furious scowl on her face before she ran off and slapped the shit out of him in front of everybody

chris gets a custom made $5k chain that has ur name and little details that remind him of u around it :((

NSFW

speaking of that chain, he wears it whenever he pounds into you so you'll be reminded of how he's yours.

chris loves ur vocals so much on stage! he finds them beautiful, but he loves them even more in bed.

"cmon mama lemme hear that pretty voice"

in fact, you two created a song just to have playing in the background while you two get intimate

chris audio recorded him eating u out once and you saying, "oh, fuck chris, it's so good!" and he decided to use that as an adlib in his favorite songs OR disses he wrote about someone being a jerk to u

watching chris perform did things to you. seeing him sweat, brushing his gorgeous hair out of his face, putting in so much energy into his performance... it's intoxicating! sometimes you wish he'd just drop the mic, pull you onstage, and make love to you infront of the world.

he talks about marrying you while he's balls deep inside of your wet cunt :( saying how he wants to drop a humongous bag on your ring, give you the wedding of your dreams, and how he desperately wants to hear "missus sturniolo" from others' mouths

chris will totally pop up behind stage after a show and guide you to your dressing room not so subtly. you apologize to your manager before rushing to your private room like a giddy teenager. "wanna see her sweetheart, she wet for me righ' now? oh, there she is.." he coos as he bends down to his knees right in front of your pussy when you pull down your pretty pink stage costume.

@leah-loves-lilies @1everythingmustgo @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee@freshsturns@emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @strnlxlqve @starlace111 @mattsfavbigtitties @stvrlighht

[augustinewrites]

cw: it’s just angst & jjk manga spoilers

satoru wakes with a start.

his breaths come a little faster than his body can process, his heart is pounding in his chest, and his head feels like someone’s stuck a hot poker in it. 

it takes him what feels like a few minutes to settle down again, clutching the bedsheets in a tightly wound fist. 

once things seemed to have returned to a normal level, he tries to remember what’d startled him. was it a dream? a memory? had he simply jerked himself awake whilst on the precipice of sleep, like you claimed he did—

his mind seems to be clearing up, because his next instinct is to sit up and make sure you’re okay.

you’re fine, sound asleep on your side of the bed. 

satoru relaxes, albeit only slightly. he’s not sure why he’d been struck with such sudden panic. there’s just this…feeling. he might even go as far as to call it an overwhelming sense of dread, if he were dramatic.

there’s something. it’s hiding in the back of his brain, somewhere even his six eyes can’t find or comprehend. 

he leans back against the headboard, reaching up to run his hands through then lightly grip the strands of his hair. outside, the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon, but whatever had startled him had left him wide awake. 

“the kids are gonna be up soon,” you mumble, pulling him out of the mess of his mind. “better sleep while you have time.” 

time. the word flashes like a flint strike in his mind, but the sparks don’t quite catch yet.

so he lays next to you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you into his chest. he feels a bit better, with you in his arms. 

“what’s wrong?” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. 

“nothing,” he lies.

you hum, but he knows that you know him too well. you always know when he’s lying. 

you twist in his arms so the two of you are face to face, the tip of your nose brushing his. 

your sleepy gaze finds his, sending him a small smile. “hi.”

he doesn’t reply because he finds he’s too busy memorizing the details or your face; the flecks of colour in your eyes, the slope of your nose. it’s as if it’s the first time he’s seeing it.

or maybe the last.

the thought comes out of nowhere and scares him so badly that he tries to pull away.

“hey,” you murmur, cradling his face in your hands. he catches your wrist intending to pull you away, but instead he clings to you like a lifeline. you’re the only thing keeping him grounded. “you’re okay.”

he wants to believe you, he really does. but anxiety is beginning to gnaw on the edge of his sanity.

“something’s wrong,” he admits quietly. “i don’t— i don’t know—”

“you worry too much,” you sigh, your thumb smoothing over his cheek. 

“i just want us all to be safe,” he tells you. 

“i know,” you hum again, smiling a little sadly. “i just wish you wouldn’t let it come at your expense.”

there are a lot of things he wants to say in this moment. he wants to ask why you’re worried, because you know he’s the strongest. that he would rip the heavens apart for you. he wants to tell you that he has a plan, and that he knows it’ll work. 

(a plan for what? he thinks briefly. he can’t remember.)

but most of all…he wants to tell you that he loves you and the life you’ve built together. too much to leave it all behind. 

but all that comes out is,

“i’d rather it be me than any of you.” 

“don’t say that,” you frown. “we need you. i need you.”

there’s an awful ache settled deep in his chest, carving into the place where his heart sits.

“well, it’s a good thing i’m not planning to go anywhere anytime soon.” lie. “i love you.”

truth.

he rests his forehead against yours, tangling his fingers with yours. 

the memories hit him like a gut punch. 

handmade mochi. the flick of a lighter. a beach in okinawa. megumi and tsumiki laughing. you in your wedding dress, telling him you love him. 

a crowded station. the beginning of the end. 

his eyelids are suddenly heavy. there’s not enough time, he panics. that can’t be it—

“i’ll be here when you wake up,” you promise, and even though you sound like you’re a million miles away, he can hear the sadness in your voice. “you can rest now.”

satoru closes his eyes.

[connorsui]

Rafayel x wife! Reader || Imagine

"Sunset Love and Baby Kisses"

"I carried you for nine whole months... nine whole months," you teased, holding your baby gently across your chest. Your tone was playfully dramatic as you admired them, their small, round face looking up at you with wide, curious eyes. “And you dare come out looking exactly like your daddy?”

Your baby girl responded with a laugh, her little hands reaching up in a wobbly attempt to grab your face. You couldn’t help but laugh too, your heart filling with a warmth so deep it nearly overwhelmed you.

“Not even a single ounce of me anywhere... no, you just had to come out with blue eyes and all,” you said, shaking your head in mock disappointment as she continued her giggly attempts to capture a strand of your hair. You let out a soft sigh, watching her with an expression somewhere between amusement and awe.

“Gods, you’re even bratty? Did you get anything from me at all? At least show me you got something out of me, will you?”

Your baby answered with an enthusiastic smile, her little hands gripping onto your shirt before leaning forward. Suddenly, she pressed her mouth against your cheek, showering you with slobbery "kisses." You burst into laughter, unable to contain the joy bubbling inside you.

“Okay, okay, maybe you got my love instead,” you said between giggles, wiping the drool from your cheek.

As the laughter faded, you took a moment to breathe in the world around you. The beach stretched out in all directions, the sand soft and warm beneath your feet. The sunset had turned the sky into a brilliant display of color—golden hues melting into pinks, purples, and deep oranges. The waves rolled in lazily, their gentle rhythm lapping against the shore, a soft hum against the peaceful evening. A light breeze carried the scent of saltwater, filling the air with freshness as it brushed against your skin.

You held your baby a little closer, feeling her heartbeat thrum softly against your chest. The sun, low on the horizon, cast a soft glow over everything, painting the scene with an almost dreamlike quality. It was a perfect evening, one of those rare moments where everything felt right—just you, your babygirl, and the endless beauty of the world around you.

Suddenly, a familiar voice broke through the tranquil sound of the waves.

“Well, speak of the man himself.”

You turned and saw Rafayel walking towards you, the sunset casting a golden light over his features. His messy hair caught the breeze, and his grin—the same grin you’d seen a million times—was filled with that playful, cocky confidence you loved and sometimes pretended to be annoyed by. His eyes, however, softened the moment they landed on you and the baby, a tenderness lingering there that he reserved just for you.

Rafayel knelt down beside you, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His thumb lingered on your cheek as he looked down at the baby with a smirk.

"What’s this I’m hearing about you being jealous of me?” he teased, his voice low and warm.

You raised an eyebrow, flashing him a mock glare as you adjusted your hold on the baby. “Please. I was just explaining how our child came out looking exactly like you. Nine months of carrying them, and what do I get? Nothing but your child like brattiness and your blue eyes in return."

Rafayel chuckled, a sound that blended into the soft crash of the waves. He leaned down to kiss the top of your baby’s head before glancing up at you with that same mischievous glint in his eyes.

“And? Is that really so bad?” he said, his tone playful but filled with affection.

You rolled your eyes but smiled as the baby reached for his hand, their tiny fingers gripping his with the same tenacity they had moments ago when grabbing your hair. Rafayel’s gaze softened even further as he admired them, the pride and love in his eyes unmistakable.

“I guess you’re right about that,” you said, your smile widening as you watched the two of them together. “But just know, if she grows up with your attitude, you can deal with it.”

Rafayel laughed, the sound rich and lighthearted as he leaned closer, his arm sliding around your shoulders. The three of you sat together as the sun continued its descent, bathing everything in the soft, fading light of the evening.

And in that perfect moment, with the breeze, the sunset, and the gentle rhythm of the waves, you realized there was nowhere else you’d rather be. Your little family, wrapped in warmth and love, was all you needed.

[navybrat817]

Love Isn't Enough

Pairing: Dark!Jax Teller x Female Reader

Summary: You love Jax, but not enough to stay.

Word Count: Almost 1.5k

Warnings: Angst, implied dubcon/noncon, attempted breakup, bittersweet ending, Jax Teller (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @writercole requested Jax Teller and a visit Under the Boardwalk (dark) with prompt #38 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You zipped up your bag after you put the last of your clothes inside. You expected a weight in your chest as you looked around the bedroom, but you weren’t upset at all. The place looked lived in, but it wasn’t a home. Charming was no longer your home. You could practically see the smirk on Jax’s face as he said “I told you so” since he suggested for you to leave and settle down somewhere else a long time ago. You didn’t listen then, but you were taking his advice now.

It was time to move on.

“I’m all about that fairy tale, baby.”

While you felt nothing when you packed your bag, your heart ached with each step you took. Jax Teller loved you and you didn’t want to leave him behind, especially when you still loved him, too. Just because the love was there didn’t mean you had support or respect. Not the way the club did. They would have a part of Jax that you would never quite reach and they couldn’t expect you to just fall in line or keep your mouth shut when your man did something dangerous or worse.

“You wanna be an old lady? Act like it. Do what you're told!”

There was something wet on your cheeks when you went to grab your keys. You sniffled as you wiped them with the back of your hand. When did you start crying? How many tears had you shed over the man who promised not to break your heart? It was tiring putting yourself back together and no amount of amazing sex or empty words could fully seal the cracks.

If your relationship taught you anything it was that love wasn’t always enough.

You didn’t regret it though. Life was too short for regrets. You got to experience love and many couldn’t say the same. You weren’t sure if you’d ever meet someone who sparked as much passion within you as Jax had, but you hoped he could defeat his demons without you tethered to him. Both of you could forge your paths and maybe they’d one day merge again.

“I love you, baby.”

“I’m sorry, Jax,” you whispered into the darkness of the living room.

“What are you sorry for?”

The keys fell from your hand as you spun toward the couch, your heart close to beating free from your chest. The flame from Jax’s lighter illuminated his face from where he sat and for a moment he looked like a demon, tortured and beautiful. He flipped on the lamp beside him and took a long drag from his cigarette, his stormy eyes drifting to the suitcase before they went back to you. His normally slicked back hair appeared disheveled as he blew out of a puff of smoke, like he couldn’t stop running his fingers through it.

He still took your breath away whenever you laid your eyes on him.

As much as you wanted to go to him and pull on those strands as you rode him, you wouldn’t. Sex wasn’t going to steer you from your decision. Besides, he used it as a weapon and you didn’t have the strength to clean up your wounds when you walked away.

“I didn’t hear you come home,” you answered.

He tilted his head and took another drag. “You’re sorry that you didn’t hear me come home?”

You swallowed as his gaze went back to your bag. “No, I’m sorry because I’m heading out,” you said, your stomach sinking as the words hung in the air.

Jax continued to smoke and you didn’t dare move as he took his time, the familiar scent of the smoke doing nothing to ease your nerves. You almost wished he yelled or destroyed something instead of stewing in silence. It put you on edge.

“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He finally asked, his voice so quiet you almost missed the question.

“I don’t know yet,” you said, tears springing to your eyes as he put the cigarette in the ashtray and got to his feet. “I just can't stay here.”

“So, you’re not just heading out. You’re going away. You’re leaving me,” he stated, clenching his fists as you moved back. He didn’t sound surprised. Just hurt and angry. Hurting him was the last thing you wanted to do.

“You told me to leave a long time ago. I should’ve left then, but I loved you and I thought that was enough for us,” you explained, a tear sliding down your cheek. You couldn’t back down though. “I still love you and I probably always will, but you’re married to the club. That’s your true love and I’m tired of fighting a losing battle.”

The stricken look he gave you almost made you apologize, but it was too late to turn back. “I’m the President and the club is family, but they aren’t you.”

“Jax-”

“Come here. Now,” he ordered, but there was a familiar gentleness in his gaze that he only showed with those he cared for. It was almost enough to make you cave. “Just sit and talk to me. We can figure this out.”

You slowly shook your head. “There isn't anything to figure out.”

“So, that’s it then? You're leaving?” He asked, raking a hand through his hair. “How many times do I have to prove to you that I love you? But no, it’s never good enough for you, is it? Love isn’t enough?” He scoffed when you shook your head again. “That’s bullshit. I need you and you need me, so don’t just-”

“That’s just it, Jax! I don’t need you!” You snapped. Both of your eyes went wide and you weren’t sure which one of you was more stunned by the statement. “When I did need you, you weren’t there. The club always has and always will come first. My eyes are finally open to that.”

“Baby…” he breathed out, his shoulders falling when you held up a hand.

“I love you. I do,” you promised. God, you loved him so much it fucking hurt. The pain had to end at some point. “But I don’t need you or this life. Not anymore. I’m done.”

You needed to say the words, so why did they feel hollow?

Jax snapped himself out of whatever shock he was in before he stomped toward you. With a gasp, you backed yourself against the wall. He never raised a hand toward you, but you had seen that fire in his eyes before. Anyone in his path ended up destroyed by that fury. Would he leave you on the ground in a pile of ash?

“You aren’t leaving me. We aren’t done,” He grabbed your chin, his grip tender when he could’ve crushed you. He pointed toward the bedroom, but kept his eyes on you so you knew how serious he was. “So unpack that bag and get it in our fucking bed.”

You searched his gaze, trying to find a trace of the man you loved instead of the stranger in front of you. “You can’t make me stay.”

He crushed his lips against yours, drawing a whimper from you. This wasn’t the kind of passion he typically showed you. This was a form of control. Like the club, he wanted you to bend to his will. Make you submit. Could you do that?

Was it safer or cowardly to give in?

It didn’t hurt so much when you opened your mouth to him and let him take over. The dull ache between your thighs would fade quicker than the cut to your heart. A betrayal of a moan escaped as his tongue dueled with yours. It didn’t take him long at all to win that battle. Jax would always win.

Was it worth fighting even if you lost? Yes. At least that way you could say even if you didn't win that you tried.

You couldn’t take a breath even when his mouth left yours. His lips left a blazing trail toward your ear, but it left you cold instead of warm. “Yes, I fucking can,” he snarled, your legs shaking as he pulled you away from the wall. “Tell me the club means more to me when I’m inside you. See if you can leave me when I’m fucking you into our mattress and showing you how much I love you.”

“Jax, please,” you begged, trying to pull free from his hold as he dragged you to the bedroom. He wouldn’t force you to sleep with him, would he?

“Beg all you want, baby. I won’t stop ‘til you know your place is here with me.”

Was this why Jax told you to leave a long time ago? To save you from the man he had become? It didn’t matter. It was too late to escape.

And maybe, in his own twisted way, he’d prove that love would be enough this time around.

I hope I did this justice! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi