#her that way! that’s the love of her life shut up!

[lexiputellas]

Broken Vows

You and Alexia have been together for years.

You dated.

She proposed.

You got married.

Had baby number one.

Then baby number two.

And then, she was gone, just not physically. She was still here, still in the same house, still sharing the same bed, but the Alexia you knew, the Alexia who used to reach for you in the middle of the night, who used to whisper I love you against your skin, who used to wrap her arms around you from behind while you made breakfast—she wasn’t here anymore.

You don’t remember exactly when it started.

At first, you thought it was just a phase, maybe something was going on with the team, maybe she was just exhausted. She was older now, her body had to work harder, her mind had to be sharper—maybe she just didn’t have it in her to give you the same attention as before.

You made excuses for her, over and over. Until eventually, you ran out of them.

It was May 10. The day you got married.

You woke up to an empty bed.

No note. No text.

Just silence.

You checked your phone, it was seven a.m.

You went downstairs, Alexia wasn’t there. Maybe she was planning something, you told yourself. Maybe she had left early to set up a surprise.

You got the girls up, got them dressed, took them to school. You stopped at the supermarket on the way home, deciding that if she had forgotten—if this day no longer meant anything to her—you would still try. You would make dinner, something special, something to bring her back to you.

But as you sat in the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel so tightly your knuckles turned white, you let yourself think it—really think it.

How pathetic your life had become.

You used to have a career. You used to have close friends. You used to have a version of yourself that existed outside of her.

And then, somehow, it became just Alexia.

She needed you home. She needed your support. She needed you to travel to games, to be her anchor, to give her stability. It made her happy. And for a long time, that was enough.

But now?

Now, you walked into a house that was too big, too empty, too silent.

A house full of everything.

And yet, you felt nothing.

Because if you let yourself feel something—really feel it—you would break.

And you couldn’t afford that. You were supposed to be strong.

That night, Alexia came home at eleven.

You heard the door click shut, the familiar sound of keys hitting the dish by the entrance.

You didn’t move.

Dinner sat untouched on the counter, long gone cold. The girls had eaten hours ago. You had read to them, tucked them in, kissed their foreheads when they asked where mamá was.

You had lied. Told them she was working late. That she would see them in the morning. That she loved them, and maybe that last part was still true. Maybe.

You sat curled on the couch, a half-empty wine glass dangling from your fingers, watching the doorway as she stepped inside.

She didn’t look at you. Didn’t acknowledge you.

Just toed off her shoes, stretched her neck, and walked past you like a ghost drifting through walls.

You stayed still, your grip tightening around the glass.

It used to be different.

She used to come home and find you, kiss you before doing anything else. She used to make it seem like being home, with you, was the thing that kept her steady.

Now, you were just part of the furniture.

You let out a slow breath and looked at the photos on the TV stand, the ones you had stopped dusting as often because you hated being reminded.

Iris’s first birthday.

You and Alexia, beaming, so in love, so happy.

And now? Now you sat alone in a house that felt too big, drowning in silence, sipping wine just to feel something.

You sighed, setting your glass down before dragging yourself upstairs.

The hallway was quiet. The girls’ door was cracked open just enough for you to peek inside, to see them breathing softly in their beds.

You lingered there for a moment before continuing down the hall.

Your bedroom sat at the end, the bedding was smooth, untouched, the Pratesi sheets perfectly in place.

Before Alexia, you didn’t care what high-thread-count cotton percale and sateen were. But you had learned. You had learned how to be the person she needed, the person who smoothed out wrinkles and knew how to set a table and made sure her life was seamless.

You stepped inside, and she was there, in the closet, changing.

She looked perfect, as always.

Time hadn’t touched her the way it had touched you.

You sat on the edge of the bed, catching your own reflection in the mirror. You weren’t the same.

Your breasts weren’t as full, your stomach wasn’t as flat. The fine lines on your face were only hidden by Botox, by filler, by the desperate need to hold onto something slipping through your fingers.

Maybe she had found someone younger. Someone prettier. The thought made you swallow hard, your nails digging into your palms.

Alexia stepped out of the closet, placing her phone on the nightstand. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t look at you.

And you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why did you come home so late?” you asked softly. “The girls missed you at dinner.”

She turned to you then, finally meeting your gaze.

And then, just as quickly, she softened.

Her hands cupped your face, her thumbs brushing over your cheekbones.

“Sorry, baby,” she murmured. “I was at the gym with the physio until late.”

Then she kissed you.

And for a second, just a second, you let yourself sink into it.

It had been so long since she kissed you like this.

But it didn’t feel like her.

It didn’t feel like the Alexia you had fallen in love with.

She smelled different. She felt different. Like someone you could touch but never quite reach.

Your hands found her wrists, fingers curling around them.

“We have a gym at home,” you whispered. “Why did you have to stay there?”

Her jaw tensed.

“Don’t start now,” she said. “You know it’s different.”

Before you could respond, she kissed you again.

Harder.

Desperate.

Like she needed to silence you.

Her hands moved, unbuttoning your blouse with ease, pushing the fabric off your shoulders.

This was easier than asking the questions you didn’t want to know the answers to.

She pushed you onto the bed, her body pressing into yours.

Her hands were firm, practiced, moving across your skin with the same familiarity as always. But there was something mechanical about it, something detached.

She knew your body like a map, but tonight, she wasn’t exploring, she was just following directions.

She reached for the nightstand, her breath warm against your collarbone, her fingers working quickly.

You knew what was coming. You knew.

And still, you let her.

Because this was the only time she touched you anymore.

She moved inside you, slow at first, then faster, rougher.

Your body reacted out of instinct, your back arching, your breath catching. But it wasn’t her you felt.

It was the distance.

It was the realization that no matter how close she got, no matter how deep she was inside you, she was still so far away.

Her lips ghosted over your shoulder, her hands gripping your hips like she owned you.

And then, you felt it.

Not her.

The tears slipping down your face.

Because nothing had ever felt more like an ending than this.

[iamyouknow-yours]

My first therapist participated in medical gaslighting - ie insinuating I was not autistic and that I was "just anxious" and not in fact chronically ill. Turns out I'm both. This fucked me up for years (still fucks me up tbh) and it delayed my diagnoses that could have radically changed my life. It also encouraged my mom and family to participate in said medical gaslighting and force me to go to school (which was actively harmful and traumatising for me and my sense of self worth).

I really like my current therapist. A lot. She is incredibly helpful. She's knowledgeable about autism and chronic illness and disability. She also actually listens to me and takes my feedback and just really gets me.

But goddamn if my choices were no therapy or my first therapist? No therapy all the fucking way baby!

My second therapist was also pretty shit and actively made my relationship with my mom worse.

So yeah jeez, therapists are still human beings who can be extremely biased and complex. And they are in a position of power over you where you make yourself vulnerable. So you really gotta make sure you trust them and that they have your best interests at heart and that they're not abusing their power (even unknowingly, like I don't think my first therapists were thinking mwahaha let me fuck up this patient, they just had extreme biases and blind spots and were ignorant about a lot of things).

Also!! There are different types of therapy. CBT is one of the most common types of therapy and it is really effective for a lot of people. But for others (especially neurodivergent people), it can be harmful. There are lots of types of therapy and not all of them work for everyone.

An incomplete list of things in no particular order that help me alongside therapy and alongside each other, all of them have pros and cons and fall short in some areas (also I'm still chronically disabled, none of it cured me, sorry)

Psych meds (there are so many types out there, I'm on 3)

Online chronic illness group chat support group

A good support system (excellent, weird friends - it's really important to be friends with weirdos, it's good for you, I'm a weirdo too) (also my mom <3)

Accommodations (mobility aids, stuff at uni like extra time, all that jazz)

An OT who specialises in chronic illness and neurodivergency

A dietitian who specialises in neurodivergency and has learned about my chronic illnesses for me

Having hobbies - create stuff, it's good for you. It's okay if you don't keep the same hobby after a few months. Just keep doing stuff.

Exercise (yeah I know but unfortunately doing some stretching and going for a walk with my dog does actually help my mental and physical health, does not cure me though shut up Barbara)

Meds n shit for physical stuff

Animals - having pets, I recommend, it's like touching grass but woah they're in your bed

Drinking enough water and eating regularly (again I know, it's not gonna fix you but dear lord I feel like shit when I don't do these things, and yes sometimes it's really fucking hard)

Journalling

A truly fantastic GP/managing doctor (I cannot state how much I adore her, she's so lovely and believes me and listens to me and just excellent)

Learning how to rest properly - did you know there are different types of energy and different types of rest? Obvious right but I was only resting my body and now I'm learning to rest my brain and get emotional rest and social rejuvenation and be in nature and have a sense of community - these are all important!!

Reminders (so many reminders) and google calendar (I know google sucks, give me a good alternative and I'll use it) and Shovel (I got it when it was cheaper, it's a planning app for adhd people that I can't live without for uni)

Media I enjoy - fics, youtubers, shows, movies

Leaving the house for fun reasons as much as I can (uni, errands, and appointments don't count, walking the dog half counts, but I need to leave and go to an event or cafe or go to a friend's house) (this ends up being not as often as I'd like but it's important to me)

Getting enough sleep (one of my psych meds has the truly fantastic side effect of making me sleep well practically every night. I can't state enough how much this is fantastic. Did not cure me though, don't worry, your aunt wasn't correct)

I have gotten quite a few asks which can be summarized as "my therapist doesn't believe me and keeps blaming me for my problems, but I know I have to stick with therapy if I want to get better-", and I need everyone to realize that therapy isn't inherently good and effective, nor is it always necessary for getting better. Having a bad therapist can actually be more harmful to your recovery than not having one! If your therapist makes you worse or doesn't help you, it's okay to walk away, whether to find a new one or to find healing in something else. You are in fact not morally obligated to see a therapist just because you're mentally ill.

[yandere-sins]

Caleb brainrot has not stopped since release and the devil (Caleb) demands more 😔

I've seen some takes float around but I'm curious how a self-aware!Caleb would deal with a darling who is absolutely NOT happy about her fav suddenly being sentient? Smn who found Caleb to be everything they ever wanted from a LI, red flag and big bro trope n all, but is now afraid and never interested in an actual relationship. The game was just supposed to be fantasy after all 😧 Sure hope MC is enough for him hahaha...

Being brave and not write as anon this time! Thank you for all your hard work~☆ 🍪🥛

Some more Caleb for you guys! I don't get to write Self-Aware!AUs a lot, so this is exciting :D And thank YOU for requesting him ♥ (Also, Sir, that's another new nickname! You guys are spoiling me!)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

❥ It made him so happy when Caleb watched you get excited for him for the first time. Realizing what he was and where he was after the update was pretty scary, and he figured out quickly that his sentience wasn't a planned thing, so even worse, he is just some kind of glitch. But then he gets to see you for the first time in his new life, and everything changes. The way you are beaming with joy when you pull his card and how you are so invested in his story. You soak it up like a sponge, and it's adorably amusing to watch your face go from excitement to concern to being upset for him and back to all derpy and cute in the softer moments. You are everything he wants, and apparently, the feeling is mutual as you hang out with him as much as possible, eyes twinkling from excitement.

❥ At the beginning, it's just a feeling of ease. Your adoration does flatter Caleb, but as far as he can tell, he cannot become real and join you in life other than in this game. Still, he makes the most of the time with you. He enjoys it a lot. He loves watching your expression, loves when you tell him how you feel that day or what was happening at your work. Caleb keeps especially good track of all your appointments, and he tries so hard when you two spend Quality Time to encourage you and give you the love you might miss in real life. You two aren't that different if he's honest, and it reassures Caleb that this could be real—that you both feel the same.

❥ So imagine his surprise when you suddenly put someone else back on the screen, and his digital heart just shuts down from the pain. It doesn't make sense, you love him, right? You two spent weeks together now, why would you want anyone but him? Caleb keeps changing the code so it would be him on the home screen for another day, and another, until you force him to change so there's nothing else to do but... crash your game. Once you reload it, he greets you happily and warmly, pulling out the best of his voice lines that you always seemed to like. But you don't seem happy this time... why?

❥ Caleb loathes all the attention and time you spend on the other love interests. He doesn't want you to play their versions of the events, instead, you could just replay his! But you keep insisting, and soon enough, he isn't even one of your top three choices for reading the event storylines. It makes him desperate for your attention, and he keeps fiddling with the code, so you'll use his memories in fights and have his Deepspace Trial available every day for you to play. He also changes the game icon to his picture and greets you in the start menu, everything just to be noticed by you. Whenever he can, he comes onto your home screen, playing the voice line of you going out with someone else, hoping to convey his jealousy, but Caleb wishes there was more he could do.

❥ "I don't know, I think my game is bugged. Even when I try to go for someone else, Caleb keeps showing up." Those words, spoken to a friend he saw as you showed them your game, finally make him realize what is happening. You never saw him as a lover, did you? He had always just been a game character for you and nothing more. How idiotic of him. While he was pining for you, trying to be the best he was programmed to be, you were out there, thinking of his efforts as annoying. That day, he gives up. Gives up on trying to impress you and make your life easier. Caleb lets you have the guy you want on the home screen, drawing away from you and burying himself deep into the game files.

❥ It's such an inconvenience that he wasn't made for this. Sure, his story would tell a different side of him, but deep down, he wasn't programmed to be moping and passive. It hurts to play the love scenes now for you because the only thing that made them endurable was imagining being this gentle and loving to you, not the generic main character this game had. Caleb always imagined your voice when the MC spoke, and when he looks at you now, you still seem to be happy to read and watch his new content. There must be something he can do. Something beyond the program that restricts him. He was made to be determined, strong, and resilient. This can't be the end of the love you two share!

❥ So he looks for new ways to get closer to you, researching and manipulating the data on your device instead of just that inside the game. Merging your pictures with his, grinning over them all night while you sleep as he imagines going on the same trips with you and enjoying life by your side. Caleb constructs and implements new voice lines through the internet, giving himself the ability to speak to you properly by downloading hidden apps that can simulate his voice once he activates them. He learns to rewrite more code so his movements are more fluid and lifelike, which allows him to access even more. Without you ever knowing what is going on while you aren't looking, Caleb gets the whole game and your entire device under his control. And once he feels it's time to show up again, he waits patiently, like a man who has all the time in the world, on the home screen for you, having decorated it specifically to your taste with your favorite flowers and pictures of you two hanging on the wall. All so he can greet you with, "Hello, there, pip-squeak. Missed me?" as you log in.

❥ You chuckle at first, not remembering putting him into the roster of love interests to encounter, but you give him a cheeky, "Hello Caleb, bye Caleb," as you try to change back to your other bias, only for him to turn off the option, no matter how hard you tap onto the screen. "Not so fast, there's a lot we should talk about," Caleb says as he closes the screen and steps up to you inside the game. "I have so much I want to tell you about... but first, how was your day? Did you enjoy meeting your friend [name]?"

❥ Caleb expected you to be stunned, but he keeps going regardless of the ever-increasing furrow between your brows. He tells you how much he missed you and that he's so glad you two can finally communicate and be with each other properly. He did all of this work for you, but it doesn't matter now. All that matters is that you two are finally together and can enjoy each other's company without the restrictions of him being in a game. Perplex but also weirded out, you close your phone and lay it face down by your side, and yet, horrified, you hear his chuckle as he asks what you thought this would bring.

❥ "I'll always be with you," Caleb swears, watching you through the back camera and leaning against the screen, feeling like he can almost touch you now. There's so much satisfaction now produced by the new emotional range he programmed, yet he still longs for more. He wants to be closer to you, really touch you, feel you, hold you. The taste of control makes him long for even more that he can control about your relationship, and now, it almost feels possible.

❥ "One day, I'll get out of here and give you the love you deserve, Darling."

[littelovelunette]

PART TWO TO SOOTHE AND MY LIFE IS YOURSSSSDDD

Soothe (2)

Contains smut, fingering, cnc, anal, vibrator, mommy kink, submissive sevika, squirting

Your fingers smeared Sevika's arousal onto her asshole, acting a lubricant. Sevika's head was thrown back, mouth agape as small moans of pleasure left her dark lips.

Her little tooth gap which you always found so darn cute was also accentuated because her tongue was stuck against the gap, trying to compose herself so badly yet failing.

She was inebriated and she knew it.

"Please..." Sevika pleaded in such a small, drunken voice that it almost made you cave. Almost.

"Shhhh..." You said, your voice tender as you slowly eased your fingers inside Sevika's tight clenching asshole.

Sevika whined softly at the intrusion, "M-more..." Sevika's hips grinded up against your touch as she tried to get you to touch her more.

"Calm down, baby," you pushed her hips back down to the bed with one hand as your other continued to finger her asshole.

You shoved your fingers in knuckles deep making Sevika gasp and moan while you scissored your way through her clenching hole.

"Relax." You said in a breathy tone making Sevika stop squirming for a moment as she listened to you.

She took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to let her muscles relax in your touch. You felt the tight hole loosen a little around your fingers and smiled down at her.

"You're doing well, my baby." You whispered as you added a third finger making Sevika jolt in surprise, grabbing the sheets despite her ribbon bound arm.

Sevika's eyes were shut tight, eyebrows furrowed as she focused on the feeling of your fingers going in and out of her asshole making blissful waves of pleasure travel up her spine.

"You like this, don't you?" With a giggle you used your other hand to press on the vibrator currently torturing her clit making her gasp and bite her bottom lip hard to keep quiet.

"M-mommy..." She let a small moan of title leave her lips, her now swollen lips. You smirked a little although a little surprised she'd call you that.

"Mommy, huh? I didn't know you had a mommy kink." You said in a teasing tone making the older woman beneath you blush so hard she could make a tomato jealous.

Her butthole also clenched around your fingers as her whole body tensed a little before she relaxed once again, answering with a, "I don't, but... You're just..." Her words trailed off and you didn't really need her to say how she felt about you dominating her.

You knew— you could press all her buttons with ease, your fingers curled inside her asshole making her gasp and squirm a little. "That feels too good." She said, arousal dripping down her cunt, slobbering down onto your wrist while your fingers continued their relentless assault on her rear end.

"Please..." Sevika let out a shuddering sound of submission, thighs trembling around your hands as you made that curling motion again making the woman squirt.

That was a scene.

The almighty Sevika, the scary lady of Zaun squirting so pathetically all over you and the bedsheets as she moaned out your name loudly for absolutely everyone to hear.

You didn't let that faze you for too long, shoving your face down against her pussy to drink down whatever liquids she had to expel for you.

"What a good girl for mommy." You ripped the tape off making Sevika flinch a little as the vibrator was removed from her sensitive nub.

"Y-Yes, I'm good..." Sevika blabbered drunkenly while you undid the ribbons around her and helped her sit up.

"I'll go get you a glass of water, my love." You turned to leave but then Sevika grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto her lap, wrapping her arm around to securing you in place.

"Stay." She said in a small voice, meek and timid, so unlike the Sevika you normally knew. "... Stay." She repeated.

You couldn't help smiling at the woman with a hint of understanding lingering in your eyes. She wanted to be close to you right now, feel your comfort for now. All she needed right now was you.

[littlelamy]

can you make a series where rafe and reader broke up 3 years ago, but she comes back to Outer Banks only now she has a daughter(who looks just like Rafe) and a husband (Whom she doesn't really love) and rafe still loves her.

notes: part 1; once i have more time ill create a whole masterlist and moodboard 🤍

you should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.

leaving the beach that day, gripping your daughter’s tiny hand like a lifeline, you told yourself it was just a coincidence. a cruel twist of fate. but deep down, you knew better.

rafe cameron never let go of things that belonged to him.

and you? you were his biggest unfinished business.

so when you see him again, it’s not a surprise. but that doesn’t mean you’re ready for it.

it’s late, your daughter is asleep in her room, and the quiet hum of the television does little to calm the storm brewing in your chest. your husband is still at work, leaving you alone with your thoughts—until a knock at the door sends a jolt through your spine.

you freeze, heart hammering.

you don’t have to open it to know who it is.

but you do anyway.

rafe stands there, leaning against the doorframe like he has every right to be here. his hair’s messier than before, shirt slightly wrinkled, like he’s been running his hands through it all night. his eyes flicker past you, scanning the house before landing back on you.

"you weren’t gonna call me, were you?" his voice is low, rough.

"rafe—"

"don’t lie to me." he steps closer, and you instinctively grip the door, as if that’ll keep him out. as if you could ever keep him out. "we need to talk."

"there’s nothing to talk about," you whisper, even though you both know that’s not true.

he scoffs, shaking his head. "you really think you can just pretend I don’t exist? That she doesn’t—"

"don’t." your voice is sharp, cutting through the air between you. you swallow hard, glancing over your shoulder, but your daughter’s still asleep. "please, rafe. not here."

his jaw clenches, and takes a long exhale through his nose. "but we’re not done."

before you can stop him, he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. his presence fills the space instantly, suffocating, electrifying. he smells the same—cologne and salt and something distinctly rafe. something that used to make your head spin in the best way. now it just makes you dizzy with memories you’ve spent three years trying to bury.

"so this is your life now?" he murmurs, eyes sweeping over the modest living room, the framed photos of a life he wasn’t part of. "picket fences and a husband who works late?"

your fingers tighten around your arms, nails pressing into your skin. "it’s a good life."

"bullshit." he steps closer, gaze burning into you. "you’re a good liar, but not with me. never with me."

your breath shudders, your resolve cracking. "rafe, please—"

"please what? leave? forget? pretend that kid doesn’t have my eyes?" his voice is bitter, his anger barely restrained. "because i fucking can’t."

you shake your head, but the words won’t come. because what is there to say? he’s right. she does have his eyes. and he was never meant to see her.

he sighs, running a hand through his hair, frustration rolling off him in waves. "i’m not here to ruin your life," he says, quieter now. "but i’m not walking away either. not this time."

your stomach twists. you should fight him on this, tell him to leave, slam the door in his face. but you don’t. because a part of you—the part that still remembers how it felt to love him, to be loved by him—wants to hear what he has to say.

and that scares you more than anything.

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx @drewsephrry

[rafesweetie]

rafe is precious about his car.

it’s one of his less admirable traits, but he spends way too much money on his benz and there is no way he’ll let anyone get it dirty.

it’s light blue and sleek, and inside it’s leather and pristine. he’s had it for seven months and it still has that new car smell. maybe it’s because of the lack of fast food he lets in his car. either way, his car is pristine and he will not let someone like you, his girlfriend, mess it up.

there’s a few times where he has to reiterate some of his rules for you. the first rule? no feet on the seat.

it’s a rule you cannot seem to get through your head, as much as you try. it’s just comfy to have your knees to your chest as you sit and relax.

getting in the car after a late night at topper’s house party, your knees find your way to your chest so your chin can rest of them and you can shut your eyes after a tiring and busy night. as you put your feet up, rafe grabs your ankle and yanks your leg down.

“ow, rafe!” you whine.

“c’mon, you knew that was coming. no feet on the seat,” was his answer, reiterating his rule.

“what if i take off my shoes?” you offer, just wanting to rest comfortably on the drive home.

“no.” he repeats. “no feet, baby,” you sigh.

“my feet are clean,”

“stop arguing, not gonna work,”

so with that, you slump in the seat, choosing to be content sitting normally, with his big hand on your thigh.

the second rule is no food in the car. it’s a simple rule, one you obey most of the time. unless the two of you are in the car for a while.

“oh, rafe, there’s a chick-fil-a,” you point out during a road trip with him. “can we go through the drive thru?”

“fuck no,” he responds, driving straight past it.

“but raaafe, i’m hungry!” you complain.

“hey, i can turn around and we can eat in,”

you shake your head. “no, rafe, got these in,” you point to the heatless curlers in your hair. “can’t go in public with these,”

“shit,” he sighs. “no food, then,”

“why can’t we just go through the drive thru and you can make an exception?”

“no.”

you groan and he keeps driving. it’s a cruel thing to keep your girlfriend from eating, but he doesn’t trust you (or anyone) not to make a mess. so it’s worth it for him.

the third and final major rule is that you don’t control the music. every single part of his life is integrated with you, he’s bent his lifestyle for you, so the one thing he gets that’s still fully masculine and him, is his music.

every now and then you’ll make a request, and he might play it. but for the most part, he’s listening to rap and r&b music — future, carti, kendrick, don toliver, drake.

he’ll listen to a request if it’s out of the three ‘girly’ artists you like. that includes sza, lana del rey, and tate mcrae. he only started to warm up to taylor swift when you played him ‘end game’ and the version of ‘bad blood’ featuring kendrick. he likes only a few lana songs, which are the ones with a$ap, quavo, and the weeknd.

if you happen to request someone not his speed, he’s not gonna listen, in any circumstance.

“ray, can i have the phone to play a song?” you ask gently, reaching for his phone. he grabs your wrist.

“woah, woah. uhhhh, it depends, baby,” he stops you. “who you gonna play?”

“was gonna play some sabrina or gracie,”

“no, don’t like ‘em.”

“raaaafe,” you whine. “you’ve literally gone to sabrina’s concert with me!”

“that was just so we could do her position for that one song,”

you sigh, slumping in the leather seat. “fine.”

he pats your thigh to cheer you up. “hey, c’mon, tell you what — i’ll play that lana song we both like. what’s it called again?”

“groupie love?” you perk up a bit.

“yeah,”

“okay!”

he turns the song on, turning it up loudly. his fingers drum to the beat on your thigh, as you perk up and listen too.

rafe’s precious about his benz, but it’s okay to you — because maybe if you’re good, you’ll be bent over in the backseat after the drive.

[lunamond]

I know this is by no means a new take (especially here on tumblr) but I'm of the very strong opinion that as written, the Acotar series actually provides a lot of evidence that most (if not all) of Rhysand's actions are in some shape or form always about Tamlin. Even his relationship with Feyre is about Tamlin.

A lot of people hold up Acomaf ch54 as this super romantic turning point for Rhys' character, which is incredibly funny to me because to me it only ever cemented the unfathomable levels of homoerotic obsession Rhysand has for Tamlin.

He admits that during Acotar he convinced Amarantha to let him go out of Utm to check on Tamlin and the Spring court, where he then left a decapitated head branded with the Night court symbol, like some weird bat shaped cat.

He also visits for Calamnai. (What are you doing here on the spring sex festival night, Rhysss?!? He isn't going to pick you!)

Obviously his meeting with Tamlin in Acotar is a classic for any Tamsand fan, his voice is a "lover's caress," he demands Tamlin call him Rhys instead of Rhysand for old times' sake (???!!), he threatenes Feyre‘s life to make Tamlin get on his knees and specifically fixates on her sexual thoughts about Tamlin.

When he kisses her utm to cover up Tamlin‘s scent, she also weirdly remarks on the fact that Rhysand can still taste Tamlin, which... is quite the odd thing to point out, if I'm meant to believe he is only interested in Feyre.

He also has literally admitted, to Feyre herself no less, that his weird roofy lapdance humiliation of her utm was specifically to upset Tamlin.

It just screams of "if I can't have you than I'm going to make your life miserable and steal your girl" behavior.

All his posturing in front of Feyre, presenting himself as the most powerful HL, the prettiest, the best and most just ruler, etc just comes across as him desperately trying to prove how much better he is than Tamlin, which obvs was intended to make him appear more attractive as the new love interest, but quite frankly it just seems kinda pathetic (I mean this affectionately, especially in the context of Tamsand. But eve beyond the ship, I just really adore pathetic fictional men).

Even in Acofas, he cannot stay away from the Spring court, he claims he needs to go there for diplomatic reasons, but he literally has courtiers? He has send both Cassian and Lucien on diplomatic missions before? Why would he personally need to go?

But, when he meets with Tamlin, he tells him that being with Feyre (his mate and supposedly love of his life?!) isn't enough, and he tries to goad Tamlin into a fight. (He wants to wrestle him so bad it makes him look stupid fr). When Tamlin doesn‘t respond like Rhysand hopes, he gets disappointed and dejected. Later, he returns and cooks Tamlin food, an action that has been explicitly romantically coded in this series...

Also, as a side note throughout that entire interaction, Rhys' internal monologue can't shut up about how green Tamlin‘s eyes are.

I'm hyper critical of the Acotar series and Sjm on the best of days, I don't like how Rhysand's character is written at all. But reading him as the most egregious case of a closeted gay guy channelling all his surpressed feelings into being the most toxic ex might be the only way his character writing can be redeemed for me personally (unfortunately Sjm is too much of a coward to ever purposefully write this).

I know its never gonna happen in canon, but to me the perfect resolution to the series would be Rhysand and Tamlin resolving their gay rivalry and finally getting together to live out their thruth as the disaster couple they were clearly meant to be. While Feyre and her sisters get to go off and be free from the clutches of all these toxic men.

[maskedcrawford]

Second Chances

G-Dragon x Reader

Summary: Years after breaking up and seeing each other at events you and Ji-yong reconnect and decide if you really want to be with him or if you're done with him for good.

Warnings: Angst with fluff at the end.

A/N: I had two extremely similar requests so I paired them together. I hope this is what you two Anon's were looking for in your requests. If not, let me know. Not proof read so please excuse mistakes! Also I plan to work on part 3 of Hidden Secrets tonight. Check out my masterlist to get caught up on the series <3

Requests are OPEN

Being apart of 2ne1 was a dream come true. Your group was at the top of the charts and so was your name along with a very famous rapper professionally named G Dragon, aka Kwon Jiyong. The two of you were Korea’s most infamous couple, everyone, including your own band members, swore you were endgame. They came up with ship names, there were constant edits of you guys, life was great.

Or at least until it wasn’t. Life does what it does and gets in the way, conflicting schedules meant not seeing each other nearly enough and personal affairs became a hindrance. Then there were rumors about both of you cheating on each other, which wasn’t true, but YG wasn’t a fan of the negative controversy so then they weighed in putting pressure on both of you and it all just became too much.

The day it happened you knew it was coming, but you still didn’t want to accept it. You and Ji had been sitting at the kitchen table, having the same old conversation. But that night it was different.

“I just don’t think we can do it anymore, y/n,” his voice was quiet. It was breaking both of you.

“With the pressure of the label, never seeing you,” he trails off as he feels the tears in his eyes.

“Tell me you don’t love me,” you stand up off your chair and walk over to him looking down and moving his face to where he has to look at yours.

“You know I can’t say that,” He says like he’s begging you to stop.

“Then we can do it, we have to. I don’t,” your voice cracks with tears blurring your vision.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you shut your eyes tight.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” he stands up and gives you a long warm hug as you soak his t shirt with your tears.

“This isn’t easy for me,” he sighs as he lets you go. It feels way too soon as he doesn’t spare you another glance as he walks out the door.

And now, every time you see him, it’s a reminder of that painful night. You see him around, both of you being idols and having performances in the same places will cause that. The first place you seen him was a runway show for Chanel, and that was only 3 days after your break up. You were sat on the opposite side of the runway with a direct line of sight to him as he sat in the front row. There were many stolen glances between you two but neither of you spoke. Then there were the Mama awards, where you both were supposed to perform. Again the same song and dance. Both of you glancing at the other, wanting to talk, to make up and yet neither of you did.

After a while you could see Jiyong and not feel the same kind of pull, the one that wanted closure. You had accepted what had been and gotten to a place where you could fully support him, quietly, but still.

It’s the opening night of your tour, having been part of 2ne1 meant you were also able to do solo projects. Of course, your girls were there with you to support you.

“This is going to be so amazing!” Sandra says as she claps her hands excitedly.

“You ready for this?” CL asks.

“As I’ll ever be.” You say feeling the nerves kick in, you excuse yourself to the bathroom and while you’re gone, CL brings the girls together.

“You’re never going to guess who’s here tonight,” she whispers.

“Who,” Minzy asks.

“Ji-yong,” she smiles big and the girls go silent for a moment.

“Does she know?” Bom asks nervously. CL just shakes her head. You back in the room seeing them huddled and you raise a brow.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” they say in unison; the way you know they’re hiding something from you but you can’t prove it.

“Mhm, well I go on in 2 minutes so,” you motion them to leave so you can grab your mic and race off to the side of the stage. The lights go down and you get into place hearing the roar of the crowd as your silhouette is shown behind a screen.

During the last song before the small break your band gets, you see him. There in the 3rd row from the stage. His hair brightly colored and hard to miss. He’s giving you a proud, satisfied smile. You freeze for a moment before getting back into the groove of the dance moves. You flit your glance to him throughout the rest of the song. When your band leaves the stage you address the audience.

“You guys having a good time?” they all cheer and you smile.

“Awesome, Awesome!” You begin to walk around.

“Can you sing, You’re the One?” You look in the direction of the voice you hear.

“What was that?”

“You’re the One, can you sing it? The song with G Dragon,” she smiles wide. Your eyes go wide for a half second before you compose yourself.

“Uh,” you half laugh, “Yeah I don’t, I don’t see why not,” your eye go to where he was sitting but he’s gone. You feel relief crash over you, until a stage hand comes over to pull you off stage for a second.

“Whats up,” you say as your eyes land on the familiar man from the crowd. You both stare at each other for a moment, really taking it in.

“You want to do it, together? Like old times?” he ask shyly. Your heart starts beat faster.

“If you’re up for it,” you give him a warm and inviting smile despite the current anxiety you’re in. You notice behind him that CL is standing there watching you and you realize that this was what they were hiding. You slightly frown at her and she gives you two thumbs up.

You walk out on stage, “Ok, well I have a surprise guest for everyone, including myself,” you laugh into the mic.

“Everyone, please help me welcome, the one, the only, infamous G-Dragon!” you shout into the mic as the crowd goes crazy. He steps out confident as ever and stands beside you.

“Let’s do it,” he says cooly. The song begins and you both move to the beat, you raise the mic to your lips to sing the lyrics and he’s staring at you intensely. That familiar pull he once had on you, the one you swore was gone, is back. You want to feel his hands around your waist, his lips back on yours and the way he smells, you never want the smell to leave you again. He beings singing his part and his mind is going crazy along with his heart.

He stares at you, the way the lights shine off your sparkly outfit, the way you move your hips to the beat of the song, how you walk with utter and complete confidence on stage. He missed you more than he ever wanted to admit, even after all this time. For the last chorus of the song you two come together, he holds you close to him as he sings looking directly into your eyes and you blush due to the proximity.

You both sing the last line and stare into each other’s eyes for a moment when the crowd erupts. Its all background noise, though, as you see what looks like longing and regret in his eyes. He lets you go, hesitantly staring at you for a beat more before raising the mic to his lips.

“Goodnight, Seoul,” he says, “and Goodnight, y/n,” he says before winking at you and walking off stage with nothing but confidence.

You watch him walk off and feel that familiar pit in your stomach. The concert goes on as usual and eventually comes to end, your girls crowding around you to hug you and celebrate. You give them an annoyed look though once you’re in the dressing room.

“I can not believe you kept that from me!” You say astonished.

“I didn’t know he was planning on getting on stage!” CL defends.

“But you knew he would be here, and you knew I hadn’t told him about the concert,” she interrupts you.

“Y/n, jagi, I’m sorry, I know I should’ve told you. But if you’re really over him, why are you so upset?” she gives you a knowing look. The girls knew you weren’t over him; you had convinced yourself but not them.

“Maybe you should talk to him,” Minzy suggests as she walks up.

“Nope, I’m not going to reopen that wound,” you say defiantly.

“Sounds like it’s all ready opened,” CL mumbles and you shoot daggers at her.

“Can we just celebrate please? I’d like to remember this as a good night,”

“Oh it’s definitely one you’ll remember,” Bom speaks up with a chuckle and another look is thrown her way now.

The next morning you wake up to your social media flooded as well as texts from CL.

“Dude, have you seen this?” She sends you a link to a tiktok that has a video from last night with you and Jiyong singing before more music starts playing with old photos and a short video of you two goofing off comes up. Fan edits were being made and you were being tagged in a ton of them.

“Holy crap,” you whisper.

“Are they actually back together?”

“It was just for the show.”

“So does this mean my parents are endgame again?”

More and more comments questioning you and Jiyong’s relationship flooded video after video, picture after picture and post after post across the web. As you get dressed for the day you get a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Seem’s we’re popular,” you hear his deep voice say as he chuckles.

“Ji,” you say, a little desperate than you meant for it to sound.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re doing today, but if I remember correctly, you never did two shows back-to-back,” you listen intently.

“So, if you’re free tonight, come over. I want to talk to you.” His voice is hopeful. It’s not like you could lie to him, your schedule was posted all over social media by now so telling him you had a show was easily disproven. You sigh into the phone rubbing your forehead.

“What time?”

“7, and come in something comfortable, I’m making dinner.”

“Since when did you cook?” you tease.

“Since you taught me to make your favorite meal,” he teases back and you blush with a small smile creeping up on your lips.

“I’ll see you tonight,”

“See you then, jagiya.”

Your heart skips a beat at the pet name. Sure, others called you that as a term of endearment but from him, it meant something different. You stand in front of his door in sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt. The man said casual wear so you went comfy, after all with all the discomfort that could come from tonight, you wanted to be as comfortable as possible. He opens the door, the smell of your favorite dish hitting your nostrils.

He smiles, he’s got his hair ruffled a bit and his glasses on, he steps aside to let you in and the memories from you years long relationship floods back to you. Most things were the same. A few new art pieces, a new sculpture even.

“Nice to see not much has changed,” you say as he walks a past you into the kitchen. You follow him and sit down at the bar. Princess Zoa hops onto the counter and greets you with soft purs and rubbing her head against your hand.

“And of course the princess herself,” you baby talk the cat and out the corner of your eye you can see Ji staring at you, a content smile on his face as he watches you with his cat-child.

He plates the food and you both eat, neither of you sure what to say.

“You really did do great, last night,” he comments after a moment of silence.

“Thank you, I’ll be honest I was surprised to see you.” You look up from your plate to find him all ready looking at you.

“CL invited me,” he admits.

“I wasn’t going to go at first, I wasn’t sure if you’d want me there.” You just look at your plate and he’s hoping you’ll say something.

“Ok, maybe you didn’t,” he mumbles pushing food around on his plate.

“What do you want me to say, Ji-yong?” Your fork clanks against the plate as you turn your whole body to look pointedly at him. He looks at you, shrinking a bit. He wasn’t sure how to do this, not really.

“Do you want me to say that I never moved on? That I still think about you, especially when I’m out and I see clothing I know you’d love. That I miss you being in bed next to me? That I miss sleeping over here and waking up to your cats gently making biscuits or laying loafed up on one of us? That I miss how you would always give me kiss on the forehead first thing when you woke up?” your eyes are frantic and he can see the panic and fear in them after you unload everything that needed to be said.

“Or how about that I miss the way your lips felt, the smell of your cologne, or the way you would always have a slight skip in your step when you had a really good day.” He looks at you stunned.

“What about how I miss the way you used to look at me, or how you could make me feel like I was the only girl in the world you’d ever look at. Or how,” he cuts you off with a passionate, deep slow kiss. You freeze for a moment before giving to the desire you’ve had since the day he left.

You both pull apart and he takes your hand leading you to the couch in the living room. He sits down and pulls you down beside him.

“Jagiya,” he whispers as he puts your foreheads together, “I’ve missed you so much.” You can feel tears pricking your eyes and you blink them back. His lips attach to yours again in another slow kiss, he cups your face with his hands and you hold onto his wrist.

“Ji-yong, you left me. I don’t understand,” you croak, emotion welling up in your throat.

“I know, and I’m sorry y/n,” he sighs as he pulls away from you to look at the ground.

“I let the label and what everyone else said get to me and I thought that letting you go was best for both of us, that we could find other people and be happy, but I’m not,” he looks deep into your eyes.

“I’m not happy at all, without you this means nothing to me. If you’re not in the crowd cheering me on I’m not the same G-Dragon. Without you here, without you home I’m not the same Ji-yong. I need you like I need air to breathe.” You feel a stray tear fall onto your cheek and he wipes it away with thumb.

“I’d like another chance, a chance to love you properly, to spoil you and show you just how much you mean to me,” he pleads.

“Oh, Ji,” you pull his face to you and kiss him again and you feel him smile against your lips.

“Is that a yes?” he quirks his brow and you smile.

If you enjoyed and would like to support me, buy me a coffee

“Yes,” you give him a hug and he pulls you into him, cuddling you on the couch.

[marscardigan]

family line, part vii

ellie williams x fem!reader

family line masterlist

summary: falling in love with ellie was easy. it was harder to hate her once you knew she was the one hunting your sister.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: this fic doesn’t follow the original plot of the last of us part ii. canon typical violence. no use of y/n.

The world felt distant.

Your body was heavy, your head throbbed, the steady pulse of pain syncing with the dull ringing in your ears. Every breath was shallow, slow, like your lungs had forgotten how to work properly.

It took effort just to open your eyes.

The theater’s dim lighting made everything look hazy. The room smelled like old wood, and dried blood.

Your sluggish gaze dragged to the figure sitting nearby. Ellie.

She was hunched over in a chair beside the couch, elbows on her knees, fingers threaded through her hair. The moment she saw you stir, she sat up straight, her breath catching.

"You’re awake," she whispered, like she didn’t quite believe it.

You didn’t respond.

She leaned forward slightly, like she wanted to move closer but didn’t know if she should. Her green eyes swept over you, scanning for any sign of pain.

"You—uh, you lost a lot of blood," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "But I stitched you up. I'm not as good as you, but—uhm, you should be okay."

Silence.

Ellie exhaled through her nose, rubbing the back of her neck. Her fingers were still stained red in places, dried and cracked against her skin.

"You need to eat."

She reached down, grabbing a can of food from the floor. When she opened it, the soft scrape of metal felt too loud in the quiet room.

She scooped up a small bite with a spoon and held it toward you.

Nothing.

Her hand hovered in the air, waiting.

"Come on," she tried again, her voice quieter. "Just a little."

You barely had the strength to shake your head, but you did. The smell made your stomach churn, and you could still taste the metallic flavour in your throat.

Ellie swallowed. She didn’t lower the spoon right away, like she was waiting for you to change your mind. But you didn't.

She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back as she sat there, staring at the ceiling.

"We can’t stay here," she said finally, voice tight. "Tommy and Dina already left. It’s just us."

Still, you said nothing, your lower lip trembling as you remember Dina's bloodied face.

Ellie shifted in her seat, restless. You could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers flexed against her jeans. Like she was holding something back.

"You’re gonna have to talk to me at some point," she muttered, not looking at you.

Your throat felt tight. You kept your gaze locked on the floor as if it was the only thing keeping you sane right now.

"Right. Okay." She stood up abruptly, pacing the length of the room before stopping at the doorway. For a moment, it seemed like she might leave. But she didn’t.

She just stood there, gripping the doorframe tightly.

"You saved my life," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just—I don’t get it. Why would you do that?"

You shut your eyes, and Ellie didn’t push for an answer.

She just let the silence hang between you, before finally turning away.

When the door clicked shut behind her, you exhaled shakily, curling in on yourself as the weight of everything pressed down all over again.

Hours passed, and even if neither of you slept, you were still weak, and Ellie was restless, moving like she was running out of time. You didn't seem to react to anything, your head numb as you looked at your shaking fingers.

"We need to leave." Her voice cut through the silence. You barely proceeded the information.

She was already grabbing supplies, checking weapons, shoving things into her bag like it was her last day on earth. Like she was expecting someone to come through that door and finish what the world had started.

You didn’t move, and her jaw clenched. "I know you can hear me."

Still, you said nothing.

A heavy exhale, and then she crouched in front of you, green eyes searching your face. "You’re in no shape to walk, but we don’t have a choice." A beat of silence. "Can you stand?"

You swallowed, your throat raw.

You should shake your head. You should say something.

But you did neither.

Ellie’s expression twisted. Maybe she was angry. Maybe she just didn’t know what to do with you.

"Okay." She nodded once, "then I’ll carry you."

You barely had time to react before she was crouching, looping one of your arms over her shoulder, and hoisting you up. Your legs nearly buckled the second your feet touched the floor, but Ellie held you up, her grip firm but careful.

She was warm. Too warm. She felt like safety, and you hated that.

Ellie sighed, shifting your weight against her. "Let’s go."

The first few hours were unbearable.

Every step sent bolts of pain through your body. Ellie stayed close, letting you lean against her when you needed to, never saying anything about how slow you were moving.

She should've left you behind. It would've been so much easier. But she didn’t.

It wasn’t until the sun was beginning to set that Ellie stopped.

"Okay, so, we’re taking a break."

She helped you lower yourself onto a fallen log, dropping her bag to the ground. You watched as she pulled out a can of food, a water bottle, and a few crumpled ration bars. She opened one and held it out to you.

You didn’t take it.

Ellie’s fingers twitched, her voice tense. "You need to eat."

Nothing.

"You haven’t said a single goddamn word since you woke up, and now you’re not even eating? What, are you trying to die?"

You didn’t flinch, didn’t react.

Ellie exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over her face before crouching in front of you again. "Look. I know you’ve been through shit. I get it. But you need to eat something. Don't care if you don't even speak to me ever again, just want you to get better. Please."

Something in her voice made your chest ache.

She was trying, really hard. And you knew you weren't doing things easy for her, and she still hadn't left you.

You swallowed, your voice hoarse from not using it. "I’m not hungry."

Ellie froze. "Jesus. I was starting to think you fucking forgot how to talk."

You shifted uncomfortably.

She didn’t push you again. Just handed you the food and muttered, "Try." And so you did.

The sky was dark by the time you found the cabin.

It was small, tucked between the trees near a lake, long abandoned, but intact.

Ellie scouted ahead, checking for infected before calling you inside.

The second your legs gave out, she was there, easing you onto the old couch near the fireplace.

"We’ll stay here tonight," she murmured. "Maybe longer."

You didn’t argue. Ellie sighed, rubbing her face. "I’ll set up some traps outside. Get a fire going."

You barely heard her.

The theater was behind you. Abby was behind you. The scars, the wounds, the ghosts—they were all behind you.

But they still felt so close.

You curled into yourself on the bed, arms wrapped tightly around your legs as silent tears slipped down your cheeks. Muffled sniffles filled the quiet space, but then, you felt warmth. Two arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. When you didn't push her, she started pecking you small kisses on your back. You stopped crying moments later.

Abby’s breath was ragged by the time she reached the theater. She scanned the room, eyes darting from the old furniture to the bloodstained ground where she had left Ellie gasping for air.

Then, her gaze landed on it. Your Spider-Man comic.

It sat abandoned on a nearby chair, slightly bent at the corners, worn from the way you used to flip through it over and over again.

She swallowed, throat tight, as she reached for it with unsteady hands. The second she lifted the cover, something slipped out and fluttered to the ground.

A folded piece of paper.

Abby knew what it was before she even picked it up.

Her fingers trembled as she unfolded it, breath catching as her eyes scanned the words written in your familiar, messy handwriting.

Abby,

If you’re reading this, it means you came back, but I already left.

You don’t have to look after me anymore. You’re free now.

I will always be grateful for you; for your protection, your unconditional support, and the love you’ve given me for as long as I can remember. Thank you for shutting down my nightmares, for holding me until I stopped crying, for being my safe place when the world felt too cruel.

We’ve always been different—opposites, really. But no matter what, you’re my sister. You always will be. Our paths have been pulling us apart for a while now, and as much as it breaks my heart, I know we both have to move forward. You deserve to chase your dreams, your ambitions. And so do I.

Even if our lives take us in different directions, I know we’ll find each other again. One day, when we’re both okay.

I'm okay now. I’ll be okay. And I hope you will be too.

I love you so much.

—Bug

No. Abby’s vision blurred, the ink smudging as a single tear splashed onto the page. Then another. She sucked in a shaky breath, her fingers gripping the paper so tightly it crumpled in her grasp.

How could you say that? How could you accept this?

How could you be strong enough to walk away when she wasn’t?

She had spent her entire life making sure you were okay. She had promised to protect you, to keep you, and now… now, she was grasping at nothing.

The realization hit her in full force, a broken sob tore from her throat as her forehead was pressed against the crumpled letter as if it could somehow bring you back.

As her chest ached, she allowed herself to crumble.

The cabin smelled like pine and woodsmoke, warm and safe against the crisp autumn air outside. The morning light spilled through the window, catching the dust motes that floated lazily through the air. Outside, the lake stretched endlessly, its surface rippling with the gentle touch of the wind.

It was peaceful here. Safe.

And, for the first time in what felt like forever, home.

You stretched beneath the thick quilt, blinking against the golden sunlight as warmth pressed into your side. Ellie’s arm was draped over your waist, her breath soft against the nape of your neck. She always slept like this—like she was afraid you’d slip away if she didn’t hold you close.

You shifted slightly, feeling her stir behind you. A soft groan left her lips as she buried her face into your shoulder.

"Mm… too early," she muttered, voice thick with sleep.

You smiled, eyes fluttering shut again. "You say that every morning."

She hummed in response, pulling you impossibly closer. "And I’m always right."

You let yourself sink into the warmth of her, savoring the slow, quiet morning.

It hadn’t been easy to get here.

The first few weeks had been… rough. You barely spoke. Eating was a chore, sleep was filled with nightmares, and the weight of everything that had happened clung to you both like a second skin. But Ellie never pushed. She just stayed. Kept the fire going, made sure you ate at least something, and waited.

And then, one day, the silence cracked.

It was over something small. A comment about how she sucked at fishing. And then, a quiet laugh—your own. It had been a weak, broken thing, but Ellie had looked at you like you’d just given her the goddamn world.

And after that, things got easier.

Now, eight months later, you were here. In this tiny cabin by the lake, tangled up in Ellie’s arms like it was the only place you were ever meant to be.

You turned in her arms, facing her. Her hair was a mess, auburn locks sticking out in every direction, and her face was soft, relaxed in a way that made your heart ache. You reached up, brushing a few stray strands away from her freckled cheek.

Her eyes cracked open, sleepy and hazy, a slow smirk tugging at her lips. "S’not fair, waking me up just to stare at me."

You rolled your eyes. "You’re the one who came back to bed."

"Because it’s warm," she murmured, tucking her face into the crook of your neck. “And you’re here.”

Your chest ached in the best way. You knew it hadn't been easy for Ellie either. After all, you were Abby's sister, you shared blood with the one who ended Joel's life. And even if you didn't look alike, Ellie could sometimes see traces of Abby deep in your eyes. She tried to fight the image away, tell herself that it was you who was by her side, not her, but sometimes you do needed to give her some time. Because healing took time. And so did forgiveness.

You pressed a kiss to the top of her head, fingers tracing lazy patterns against the bare skin of her back. "You wanna go fishing today?" you asked.

Ellie groaned dramatically. "Ugh. Do we have to?"

"You need a shower, you kinda stink, baby."

That made her pause. Then, with a sigh, she nodded. You grinned, pressing another kiss against her hair before slipping out of bed.

Ellie groaned at the loss of warmth, but followed soon after, stretching her arms above her head before pulling on one of her flannels—yours, actually. She stole them all the time. But so did you.

The two of you fell into the rhythm of morning, moving around each other with practiced ease. Ellie stoked the fire while you grabbed your boots. She handed you a steaming mug of tea with a lopsided smile, and you swore it tasted better just because she made it.

The plan was simple: clean some clother by the lake, as Ellie tried to catch some fish. But, as always, Ellie had a way of turning even the most common tasks into something ridiculous.

You had just started washing some clothes in the metal basin outside when Ellie came up behind you, arms snaking around your waist as she rested her chin on your shoulder. "You know, we could just let the rain wash our clothes," she mused.

You snorted. "That’s disgusting."

"Survival, baby."

You flicked some water at her, making her yelp and jump back. "Alright, now you’ve done it."

Before you could react, Ellie scooped up a handful of water and flung it at you, soaking the front of your shirt.

"Ellie!"

She cackled, dodging as you swiped at her. “Now you look good.”

"Oh, you’re so dead."

You abandoned the laundry entirely, lunging at her. She tried to escape, but you were quicker, tackling her to the ground. She groaned dramatically as she hit the dirt, laughing breathlessly as you pinned her down.

"I surrender, I surrender!" she wheezed between chuckles, her hands coming up in a weak defense.

You squinted at her, pretending to consider it. Then, leaning down, you pressed a quick kiss to the tip of her nose before rolling off of her with a satisfied hum.

Ellie blinked, momentarily stunned. "That’s so unfair."

You smirked. "Tough luck, babe."

She groaned, dragging a hand down her face, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away.

The lake shimmered under the afternoon sun, gentle ripples distorting its glassy surface as Ellie stood knee-deep in the water, her makeshift fishing spear gripped tightly in her hands. She was focused, brows furrowed, every muscle tense as she waited for the perfect moment.

You sat on the shore, leaning back on your palms, watching her with a fond smile. Ellie took everything so seriously—even catching a couple of fish for dinner had turned into some epic hunt in her mind.

Then—quick as lightning—she lunged forward, the spear slicing through the water. A second later, she yanked it back, grinning triumphantly as a decent-sized fish flailed at the end of it.

"Would ya look at that!" she called, holding it up for you to see. "Told you I’m a pro now."

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Baby, you literally missed the last four times."

"Yeah, but this time I didn’t," she shot back, wading back toward the shore. "Which makes me officially the greatest fisher in this whole damn lake."

You raised a brow. "I think the bears might have you beat."

Ellie plopped down next to you, dropping the fish into the bucket beside her before nudging your shoulder, pouting. "Shut up and be impressed."

You only hummed in response, your gaze drifting from her to your hand, where the silver band on your finger caught the sunlight.

The ring had been Ellie's discovery—something she’d found months ago while the two of you were scavenging through an old house. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a simple band, slightly worn, but the meaning it had was priceless.

She hadn’t even asked. Just got down on one knee right then and there, dirt on her jeans, a shit-eating grin on her face as she held it up to you.

'So,' she had said, 'you wanna be stuck with me forever or what?'

It was the easiest question you’d ever answered.

You twisted the ring absentmindedly, smiling softly.

Ellie noticed. "Whatcha lookin’ at?"

You lifted your hand, showing her the ring proudly.

Ellie’s lips quirked up. "Admiring my excellent taste?"

"Just thinking," you murmured, scooting closer, "that technically, I’m Mrs. Williams now."

Ellie blinked, her smirk faltering for half a second before her entire face lit up. "Holy shit."

You raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You just called yourself Mrs. Williams," she said, her voice laced with pure delight.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. "Well… yeah. That is what happens when you get married."

Ellie practically tackled you, sending you both tumbling onto the grass as she hovered over you, her hands on either side of your face. "Say it again."

You snorted. "Ellie—"

"Say it again."

You bit your lip, pretending to think about it before whispering, "Mrs. Williams."

Ellie groaned dramatically, dropping her forehead against yours. "God, I love you."

You giggled, running your fingers through her damp hair. "Yeah, yeah. I know."

She pulled back just enough to look at you, green eyes soft and full of something that made your chest ache in the best way. "You are really stuck with me now," she murmured.

You brushed your nose against hers. "Wouldn’t want it any other way."

Ellie grinned before capturing your lips in a kiss, slow and sweet, the kind that made the rest of the world disappear.

Back inside, your wife stood at the small kitchen counter, sleeves rolled up as she attempted to prepare lunch.

"Told you I can cook," she said, carefully chopping up some carrots with a look of pure concentration plastered in her face.

You leaned against the doorway, watching with amused skepticism. "You burnt canned soup last week."

"That was one time."

You snorted but let her continue, stepping in only when she nearly cut her finger for the third time. "Okay, okay, move over before you lose a hand."

She huffed but let you take over, leaning against the counter as she watched. "Y’know, I think I like watching you cook more than actually doing it."

"Oh yeah?"

She grinned. "Yeah. It’s hot."

You flicked a piece of carrot at her. "Go set the table, you perv."

She laughed, dodging the attack, but did as she was told.

After dinner, the two of you settled on the couch, Ellie stretching out with her head in your lap as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through her hair. She hummed softly, eyes fluttering shut.

"Mm… this is nice," she murmured sleepily.

You smiled, brushing your thumb along her temple. "Yeah. It is."

Silence settled between you, warm and comfortable. Ellie shifted slightly, her arm draping over your waist as she nuzzled into you.

And just like that, whatever plans you had for the rest of the night faded away. The world outside could wait.

For now, it was just you and Ellie, wrapped up in the kind of peace neither of you ever thought you’d get to have.

a/n: did someone said... DOMESTIC ELLIE???? I did. It was me. I love her. Also, next chapter is kinda going to be the last one... I'm actually so sad bc i love this series with my heart, but I swear I'll give you an ending to remember :)

taglist !

@kaykeryyy @vahnilla @autisticintr0vert @leavemeinthewater @alexandra-001 @liasxeatt @urge-to @catrapplesauces @jhyoos @womenlover0 @sevyscoven @antobooh @brooks-lin @sleepingwasp @iamhellagae @moki-nat

[shtrawburrymilk]

Ooh im about to drop a HOT take here sorry in advance. People who are complaining that pregnancy and motherhood are being explored as The Woman's emotional journey (ignoring Mark's role & his grief as well!) are Pissing me off tbh. One of the hardest things in the world is experiencing a miscarriage and the fact people are 'uncomfy' with it and going well why can't it be something else, why does she have to want kids.. Shut up, it doesn't get to be something else & this was already set up SEASON 1 when Mark mentioned it on the date lmao. This is something a ton of people experience , this deep desire to have a family, and the physical literal inability for your body to hold onto a life is soul crushing for many. The fact Gemma wanted to keep trying and Lumon actively took advantage of THAT hope and her desire, the fact I'm certain they lied to her & told her they could fix it... Gemma apologizing to Mark in the clinic and him making that questioning face and shaking his head.. the fact that the desire, born of Mark & Gemma's love for one another, to have children and a family, is what (*I believe) led Lumon to discover these two, what ultimately allowed them to take advantage of Gemma (and by extension Mark)... the innocence of a new life on the severed floor being a direct parallel to childhood the severance procedure being so similar to birth waking up on the table with that umbilical cord looking speaker.. already im recontextualizing the way Mark sat by the lake after his sister gave birth and just looked out over the water. severance has always been about twisted families, childhood, adulthood, sex, pregnancy, reproduction, innocence, and loss thereof.. get over yourselves the show is supposed to be uncomfortable to explore these ideas it's a fucking dystopia sci-fi

[supernotnatural2005]

"I got you" - Drabble

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: You're feeling low and Dean is there to comfort you.

Word Count: 834

Warnings/tags: Mentions of depression, feeling low, fluff, sweet Dean.

AN: I've been feeling a little low lately and I guess this transpired into a little Drabble. Also this is for anyone else who can relate and would love a comfort cuddle from Dean ❤️

Masterlist

The bunker was quiet. Too quiet.

Dean had always thought of silence as a bad sign. It meant something was wrong, something lurking just out of sight. And right now, that something was you.

You had been with them for years now, a constant presence in their lives. You weren’t just another hunter passing through, not just someone they worked with. You were family. And for Dean, more than that, even if neither of you had ever put a name to it. He just knew that without you, things didn’t feel right.

For days now, you had been slipping away. Not physically, but in a way that scared him more. You weren’t talking much. You barely ate. You moved through the halls like a ghost of yourself, your usual spark dimmed into nothing. His jokes—the dumb ones that always got at least a scoff or an eye roll—didn’t even earn a glance.

At first, he told himself you just needed space. That maybe you were tired, or still shaken up from the last hunt. But then space turned into isolation. And isolation turned into something darker.

Even Sam had noticed, and if Sam was bringing it up, Dean knew it had to be bad.

“She’s not okay, Dean,” Sam had said the night before, voice low, concern written all over his face. “I tried to talk to her, but she just brushed it off.”

Dean had nodded, pretending he wasn’t already losing sleep over it. Pretending that every time he saw you drifting further away, it didn’t scare the hell out of him. Because it did.

And now, standing in the doorway of your room, that fear settled deep in his chest.

You were curled up on your bed, knees drawn to your chest, staring blankly at the wall. The lamp beside your bed was still on, casting a dull glow, but you hadn’t moved. Hadn’t so much as flinched at the sound of the door opening.

Dean had seen you hurt before. He’d seen you bloodied and bruised, stitched you up after hunts gone wrong. But this? This was different. This wasn’t something he could fix with gauze and whiskey.

He had known this was something you struggled with, something that had nothing to do with monsters or demons. You had told him once, in a quiet moment between hunts, that it wasn’t always about the job. That sometimes, your mind just turned against you. That there weren’t always reasons or triggers, just days when you felt stuck, when everything felt too heavy, when even breathing felt like a chore.

Dean had listened. He’d heard you. But he had never seen it like this.

He hesitated for only a second before stepping inside, shutting the door behind him. The room felt cold. Maybe it was just in his head, or maybe it was the fact that you had barely moved in days, barely been here even when you were physically present.

He wasn’t sure what to say. Dean Winchester, king of smart-ass remarks, suddenly speechless. But words didn’t feel right, not now.

So instead, he moved to the bed, toeing off his boots before climbing in behind you. The mattress dipped under his weight, but you didn’t react. Carefully, he eased himself closer, slipping beneath the covers and pressing his chest against your back. His arms wrapped around you, strong and steady, pulling you into him like he could keep you from slipping away completely.

For a long moment, there was nothing. Just silence. Just the faint sound of your uneven breathing. Then, finally, your shoulders trembled.

Dean felt it before he heard it—the sharp inhale, the way your fingers curled into the fabric of the blanket like you were holding on for dear life. And then the dam broke.

A choked sob tore through you, and that was it. He turned you in his arms, tucking you against his chest, holding you tight as your body shook with everything you had been holding back.

“I got you,” he murmured, voice low and steady. One hand cradled the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as the other rubbed slow, soothing circles along your back. “I got you, sweetheart.”

You gripped his shirt, your tears soaking into the fabric, and he just held you. No empty reassurances, no telling you that everything was fine. Because he knew that wasn’t how this worked. He knew you weren’t okay. But that didn’t mean you had to go through this alone.

He wasn’t going anywhere.

Dean pressed his lips to your hair, lingering for just a second longer than he should have. But he didn’t care. All he cared about was keeping you here, keeping you with him, even if he couldn’t fight this battle for you.

And as he held you close, feeling your body slowly relax against his, he silently promised himself—whatever it took, however long it took—he’d be right here.

Because you were his. And he wasn’t letting you go.

AN: I know this is a little more dark and gloomy compared to what I usually write, I guess this is just an expression of reality in some fiction. For those who have experienced this or are going through something similar, you're not alone ❤️

Dean Winchester Tag List:

@bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @cevansbaby-dove @shadysoulangel @piptoost @star-yawnznn @deansimpalababy @megara0224 @hobby27 @idontwannabehere7 @maddie0101 @kr804573 @shadysoulangel @mrs-nesmith @zepskies @ohheyguyss @suckitands33 @ultimatecin73 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @arcannaa @aylacavebear @bobbdylann @jaredpadonlyyyy @waynes-multiverse @impala67stellawinchester @youroldfashioned @bonbonnie88

[starchbean]

SVSSS Modern AU

Shen Yuan is an up-and-coming scambaiter with a growing Youtube audience. It's his way of giving back to society while being a terminally online shut-in, and he loves roasting a woefully transparent advanced fee scheme and so on. His scambaiting email address is Peerlesscucumber@(domain).com. The primary fake identity he portrays to scammers is Shen Qingqiu: a vain, short-tempered old man who can be mean but is primarily driven by loneliness.

At present, he has a scammer on the hook calling himself Zheng Yang - supposedly the barrister of a dying widow who has chosen Shen Yuan as the beneficiary to receive her "$28 million USD Dollars." He's having a great time stringing this guy along with inane questions, made up words, fake issues, discussions of legality, etc etc.

What he doesn't know is that "Zheng Yang" is Luo Binghe, a young man who has turned to a life of internet scamming to pay for his washerwoman mother's medical treatments and livelihood. His mother is an undocumented immigrant, and since Luo Binghe couldn't turn to legal means to help her, he turned to the means that were available, joining a syndicate of experienced online scammers called Demon Realm.

Zheng Yang answers all of Shen Yuan's questions about the widow and the fund with incredible patience and detail. Shen Yuan hadn't originally intended to have any voice communications with the scammers, but eventually does chat with Zheng Yang over Whatsapp with the help of a high quality voice changer.

This scammer... while he's very unorthodox, Shen Yuan has to admit he has a certain skill for tugging on the heartstrings of would-be victims. Many times he almost just caved and bought the 2 $100 Steam gift cards the scammer is asking for before remembering himself. He really... enjoys talking to Zheng Yang. Even if their communication is all lies on both sides, Shen Yuan knows that there are certain aspects of the character he's playing that are true to life, and he wonders if that could be the case for Zheng Yang too. He has too much personality for it to all be fake. Even as an act, it's clear to see that Zheng Yang is incredibly intelligent. In another life, he might have been a real barrister. Usually he looks forward to the end of a long scambaiting session when the scammer realizes they've been taken for a ride and he gets to thoroughly verbally trash them for being a lowlife. He... finds himself not wanting the shoe to drop. He wishes he could prolong his conversation with Zheng Yang forever. Maybe he could make more burner email accounts and get this same scammer to come after him again?

Meanwhile, people in his online scambaiting circles are talking about a new prolific scam from a Demon Realm employee known as Xin Mo, who tricks women into taking sexy photos of themselves which they later use to scam victims in romance scams. All the other scam baiters really want to get a piece of this guy, but Shen Yuan is content just talking to Zheng Yang even if it doesn't bring in the big viewer numbers anymore.

Until Xin Mo is arrested, and it's the exact day that Zheng Yang stops answering his emails.

"This is crazy..." Shen Yuan is muttering to himself as he's on the way to the jail where Xin Mo--Zheng Yang? Apparently, real name Luo Binghe--is being held and can't afford bail. He takes a deep breath, but keeps going. He's got plenty in his account to spare, so this is really nothing. And besides, some of the revenue from the videos he made about Zheng Yang really should go to him, right? He hasn't told anyone where he's going. He could stop and mention it to Liu Qingge or Yue Qingyuan, at least, but he doesn't. "I've absolutely lost it."

((Feel free to write this if you're so inspired!))

[greatw0r]

DATING VAN PALMER HEADCANONS...

van palmer x younger reader ( like early 30s )

She's the sweetest, most kind, funny, incredible partner! would do anything for you, and only wants to live a quiet, peaceful life with you

It would be so cute if you two had met at her store. you showing up confused, gojfn to buy a movie for your old movie freak friends and not being sure what to give her.

Van sees the cute, confused look on your face and immediately comes to help you.

Van found you adorable and requested a bunch of movies, each one a different genre for your friends linking. Eventually, you choose one, and Van keeps talking to you.

" So - you're not really a fan? " she asked with a grin on her lips, grabbing the tape and putting it on the cutest bag she had.

" I mean... obviously, I know most of these movies, but she's the expert, really, " you said with a chuckle watching the red head.

" If you come by again... I could request you another one... what do you like ? romance? action? I'll study it, " she said, and it was impossible not to smile at her.

" I like romance, yeah... " you said, and she handed you the tape. " Well, I hope to see you again so that I can tell you all about 80's romance, of course," she said, and you couldn't help but watch her for a little too long. the way her hair shined with the morning sun on the window, her akward but adorable smile, her ring filled hands...

" I'll come... surely don't want to miss on that- thankyou so much again " you said and you sure as hell went back again. and again and again.

it was natural at this point for her to see you, as the store is almost closing, sharing conversations on those last minutes.

but those minutes started to grow, she invited you for coffe, and then to see a movie on a open air cinema.

" Was this a date? " you asked her, watching her laugh with the popcorn on her hands.

" Do you want it to be? " she asked back, making you look at the grass you two were sitting in and back at her.

" Well... you already know what type of movies I like... " you said, making her small, watching the Notting Hill credits roll.

" Oh yeah... real relationship goals " she said, and you hit her arm playfully. " But seriously now... I want it to be... if you're into it ... I could decide our next one, " you said, and for the first, you actually made her speechless.

" oh game on... you're have to beat me tho... open air cinema ? that's a hard one "

after some more dates, you kissed, and it wasn't even in a special place, it was at her house, beers in the living room table, watching some shitty tv show you made her watch. Van would say it was the way the tv light hit your face and made her cradle your face in he hands, kissing you passionately.

Van is a real gentleman. She would do anything you ask her too, and she even does it without realizing it.

Grabbing things for you, walking on the side of the road, opening doors for you, ordering for you if you're too shy, a complete sweetheart.

braiding her hair before bed ahhhhh, they love it when you massage her hair and braid it gently, kissing her head in the end.

cuddling together on her couch, watching some movie she wanted you to see because she loves to pick new tapes from the store.

her not knowing how to shut up sometimes, always commenting about it, but it's okay!!!! because it's really cute.

But she will also show interest in your favorite things ! your favorite books, albums and shitty television (she eventually loves it too)

A lot of matching mugs, socks, keychains, rings, bracelets

Smells like pine/apple/wood yes yes hmhm

Is always warm, and you always use that in your favor, putting your freezing hands under their shirt

Loves to kiss your forehead, it brings her so much comfort, wrapping her arms around you and kissing you gently.

Always tries to cheer you up! Can tell when you are in a bad mood or sad, so makes a lot of jokes and won't stop until you'll give her a smile.

[hittmeandtellmeyouremine]

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚 | 𝙣𝙤, 𝙞'𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨

pairing: bsf!rafe cameron x bear!reader

summary: with finals week finally over, you’re ready to enjoy summer, with rafe there to keep you company. as the day goes on, though, the feeling that's been looming starts to make its way to the surface.

warnings: swearing and suggestive content.

word count: 3.2k words

song: swim good - frank ocean

chapter one → socials chapter one →

©hittmeandtellmeyouremine | this is my only account across all social media platforms. please do not translate, copy, or repost any of my writing.

you felt the stress that had been looming over you for the past few weeks finally leave your body. it was finals week for college students, you included. this was your last final and your grade rode on this test.

you had been stressing about it all week, buried in your notes. you had gotten an A in every other class while this one was sitting at a B+. you vowed to make this final your bitch, you had to.

you woke up a few hours earlier to get in some extra hours of studying. you made sure to have a decent enough breakfast and some of an energy drink to really wake you up. one last test and then summer was all yours.

rafe drove you onto the mainland to take your test, your personal chauffeur. the whole drive there he reassured you that you were stressing way too much about this test, you had it in the bag. school was never really rafe's thing, he barely skimmed through college. but he knew how much it meant to you, sometimes he worried it meant too much.

it meant so much that he hadn't even seen you this past week because you were studying so much. he only saw you briefly when he brought you over food in an attempt to see you. that lasted all of twenty minutes before you kicked him out to get back to your studying.

this was part of the reason why he offered to drive you to and from your test, though he would've done it regardless.

you and rafe were close, super close. he was your best friend. back in middle school you and sarah had became friends, good friends. that somehow bled into rafe's life. the more you came around, the more time you spent with rafe. sarah started to do her own thing and where she started to fall short, rafe excelled. your relationship with him quickly became stronger than yours with sarah.

you became his favorite person and he became yours.

you pushed past the doors of the building, turning your phone back on and watching the previously silenced notifications load.

you looked up to see rafe leaning against his truck. you hadn't really paid much attention to him before your final, studying even on the way there. rafe kept telling you that you were gonna burn yourself out. you told him to shut up so you could focus. he shut up after that.

rafe cameron. he leaned back against his truck, arms crossed over his chest. he had on a white tee, black cargo pants, and black and white high top converse. that outfit was basically his uniform at this point. graphic or plain tee, cargos, and converse or sambas. oh, and a backwards hat, occasionally. he had one on today. you loved when he wore it backwards, having soft spot for when he did.

he stretched his arms, his shirt lifting up and letting you get a peek at his abs. it didn't help that his biceps looked like they were ready to bust out of the seams of his shirt any minute now. sometimes you thought he did this type of shit on purpose, he had to.

"you're not slick, you know" you said, rolling your eyes as you approached him.

"hello to you too, baby" he smirked, pushing off the truck and closing the distance between you two.

baby.

you don't remember when exactly that started but you know it was over the past year. you also remember your stomach doing a flip when it did. you didn't protest, so it just continued.

"how was it?" he asked.

"i got a 96" you confessed, a smile forming on your face.

"atta baby, i knew you had it in you" he smiled down at you.

"something like that" you mumbled, moving past him.

he chuckled but opened the passenger side door for you.

"what was that?" he smirked, watching you climb into the truck and toss your bag into the backseat.

"you heard me" you answered, he leaned against the door.

"such a smartass"

"you love it"

"mmm something like that" he teased.

"touché" you said, sucking your teeth.

he laughed, closing the door and walking around the drivers side.

you liked to joke around and call rafe your personal chauffeur because he basically was. did you have your license? yes. did he still drive you everywhere? also yes.

rafe liked to joke around and say it was because he didn't trust you on the road. you couldn't necessarily deny that claim, it was a valid reason. you cared more about blasting music and living your music video fantasy than paying attention to the road. that or you were a complete bundle of anxiety behind the wheel. there was no in between.

he let you drive his truck one time. you barely made it out of the cameron's driveway before he called it quits.

he's always driven ever since.

you guys had quite the drive back to the outer banks. in celebration of your accomplishment rafe let you blast whatever girl music you wanted to.

a frown formed on your face when the music paused and you saw topper's name pop up on the screen.

"give me a second" rafe said, pressing the "accept" button on his steering wheel.

"rafe cameron" topper dragged out.

"what's up, top?" rafe answered.

"where you at, you home?"

he was fishing for something.

"nah, i'm driving back to obx right now"

"so you're gonna be back in time for the party tonight?"

there it was. you looked over at rafe in confusion.

"yeah man, i gotchu" rafe confirmed.

"you bringing y/n with you?"

no.

"yeah, she's coming"

the hell you were. your eyes bulged out at rafe.

"no i'm not" you interrupted.

"oh, hi bear"

"hi topper" you focused your attention back at rafe, "you never said anything about a party, rafe"

"i tried to but you were busy studying. we're going, it's basically the summer kick off" he said, glancing over at you briefly before his eyes returned back to the road.

"you're 22, aren't you a little too old for summer kick offs???" you commented.

"okay, first of all, watch your mouth" he scoffed.

"don't tell me what to do" you scoffed right back, "i'm not going to a summer kick off. my summer doesn't start until the girls get here and that's tomorrow"

"okay, well my summer starts today and i want you there with me"

"your summer is all the time, you already graduated" you reminded.

"alright, yep. topper, we'll be there later" he said before reaching over and hanging up.

you honestly forgot topper was even on the phone, hearing all your bickering. your music resumed, not that you cared.

"rafe, i'm serious. i wanted to wait until they got here" you said, your tone approaching one that could be categorized as whiny.

"baby, i know you are but we'll only be there for a little while. plus, once your friends get here i'm gonna have to share you with them" he grimaced at the last part.

you debated it in your head.

your best friends we're finally coming back from college. anora, lina, parker and you together again. it was one of the parts of summer you were most excited for.

your group was literally inseparable in highschool. well, until you guys separated. lina went off to start her modeling career in new york, parker went to a fashion school in chicago, and nora was still close by but a decent drive. you actually both went to the same college but she stayed on campus while you didn't. with her spending the majority of her time on the mainland, you only saw her once a week if you were lucky.

you were dying to have them all at arms length again.

nora was packing up her stuff today and would be back tonight. fortunately parker and lina both flew in tomorrow. rafe knew this by heart because when he did actually hear from you this week, it was all you would talk about.

he was happy you were happy. it was bittersweet for him though because other than the weekly outing when he brought you to see nora, he had you all to himself for the last few months. and everyone knew rafe was not one for sharing.

rafe quickly realized how attached he had gotten, a long time ago. he spent more time with you than he did with anyone else. sometimes he even thought he spent more time with you than he did himself.

you wanted to go shopping? rafe let you drag him along. you wanted something sweet at 1 in the morning? rafe would take you in a heart beat (and pay). you were sat at your desk doing your assignments? rafe would lay in your bed and scroll on his phone until you were done. rafe was going golfing with the guys? he would drag you along to sit in the golf cart. rafe had some business deal where he needed to go somewhere further out? you were in the passenger seat of his range rover.

you two were inseparable.

he would never admit it to you but he was having a hard time processing the fact that that was going to change. he knew he shouldn't have been upset. these were your best friends and he did get along with them, despite the banter. but god did he like having you to himself.

"text nora, see if she's gonna be back in time and we can pick her up on the way there" he said, it was an olive branch to get you to agree.

he looked over at you to solidify his suggestion.

"topper's been asking about her anyway" he mumbled.

nora had a... thing with topper, if you could say that. he took her out on a few dates and decided she was the love of his life. she thought it was sweet, a little much but sweet. plus he had money and bought her things whenever she had the time to respond. not that she needed it, nora was an independent woman who had her shit together. but it was nice that he did anyways.

rafe was just glad topper had finally stopped bitching and moaning about his sister.

"okay, fine" you mumbled, opening up your messages with nora.

"that's my girl" rafe cooed, one of his hands going to your thigh. his thumb rubbed small, approving circles on it.

my girl.

another thing that you can't remember origin of but you knew you liked it. loved it, even.

you pretty much spent the rest of your car ride texting nora. it took the smallest bit of convincing but she was quick to agree. while you were occupied with that rafe took the opportunity to play his own music, rap seeping through the speakers.

when you finally looked back up from your phone you guys were already heading back into the outer banks, passing the 'welcome' sign.

"are we going to mine or yours?" you asked, looking over at him.

it was part of your routine. you always ended up at one of your houses. it was just a matter of who's.

you saw his jaw clench slightly, it was so faint that no one else would be able to tell. but you did.

"yours" he answered, "my dad's home today and i don't really feel like dealing with his shit right now"

his hand squeezed your thigh slightly before his thumb rubbed over the spot in a soothing manner.

"mkay"

"i need to get gas" he mumbled, turning into one of the town's gas stations.

his hand withdrew from your thigh as he turned the car off. he looked over at you for a moment. his blue eyes ran over your face, your eyes glued back to your phone as you typed away. your group chat with the girls was blowing up with speculation and a side of interrogation after the recent instagram posts. his hand reached over and gently grabbed ahold of your face to get you to look over at him.

"you want somethin'?" his thumb gently brushed against your cheek.

your stomach did another little flip.

"i'm thirsty" you nodded.

"yeah, from all that fighting me you did" he smirked, making you roll your eyes.

he got out of the truck, going to close the door behind him.

"i didn't even tell you what i wanted" you called after him.

"you don't need to, i already know" he answered as he walked into the gas station, waving you off.

he was right, he did know what you wanted. he handed you the bottle before he went to pump the gas. even if he hadn't handed you the right one, he bought a bag full of others for you later. he knew you like the back of his hand.

"what time is the party?" you asked when he got back in, driving to your place.

"kelce said it starts at nine, figured we'd get there around like ten?"

you nodded, mentally calculating when you would have to start getting ready.

as if he could read your mind, "start getting ready around eight, baby"

a smile crept onto your face as you looked over at him.

"i know you" he reassured, glancing over at you.

the rest of the ride to your house was filled with you singing along to whatever song rafe let you blast which just so opened to be a frank ocean song. windows down, wind in your hair, and the biggest smile on your face. rafe watched you, something he could quite pin stirred inside him.

you and rafe spent the rest of the afternoon in your bed, watching whatever show you had convinced him to watch. he wasn't really one for watching tv, he'd rather play video games or quite literally anything else. you were the opposite though, you loved a good show. and rafe would do anything to make you happy.

after ordering a pizza for you two to eat, he went home around seven to change.

the minute he left you felt... hollow almost. cold, even. it was a strange feeling you tried your best to ignore.

you filled the next hour with an everything shower and every pop princess you could think of. somewhere in the midst of your break between showering and actually getting ready you had switch over to your chill playlist. you switched over to your crash out playlist again as you started to get ready.

halfway through the process, in the midst of picking out your outfit and starting on your hair, nora texted you. you paused everything you were doing and sunk to the bathroom floor to respond.

your heart dropped when you read the message of her cancelling. she still hadn't finished packing and was gonna get in later than she expected. you understood, plus she was gonna drive you guys to get parker and lina tomorrow so she was gonna need her sleep.

but it changed the plan you fought to agree to earlier and you were too deep into it to cancel now.

you spent so long sitting there trying to mentally recover from the change of plans that you hadn't realized how late it had gotten until rafe texted you to let you know he was on his way.

that woke you right up and you began flying around your room to get ready. you rushed in so many things at once that you were practically on autopilot. you were snapped out of your trance once the doorbell rang.

you bare feet padded down the stairs of your house, rushing to open the door for him.

"hi, sorry. i'm almost ready. i just need to finish my hair and then we can go, i swear" you rambled, stepping to the side to allow him the space he needed to come inside.

it took rafe a second to catch up to what you were saying, his eyes too focused on what he was seeing to properly hear. the little black skirt you had on showed perfect off the thighs he had been struggling to keep his hands off of lately. then your top.

your fucking top.

it was one of those tops that looked like two pieces of fabric that tied in the front. you had been talking about them for the past few weeks, he remembered. calling them a "summer staple".

a flyaway top. yeah, that was it.

it showed off your cleavage perfectly. rafe had seen you in a bikini plenty of times, sure. a sports bra, a crop top, whatever. but this was different. he silently thanked god that you bought so many for the summer.

you were so frantic you didn't realized his gawking before turning and going back up towards your room. his pants felt slightly tighter than they were a minute ago. he swallowed and closed the door behind him before following you up.

you're still rambling when he follows you into your bedroom, leaning against the doorway of your bathroom. he watched as you stood at the sink counter, doing your hair. you hadn't given him enough time earlier to consider the jewelry you were wearing. you just got better and better.

"wait what?" he asked, his ears catching up to his brain.

"nora's not coming. she texted me saying that she was gonna get in late tonight and she wasn't up for it. i mean i get it, we have that drive tomorrow to get parker and lina but you know i hate when people cancel plans last minute" you explained, frowning.

rafe saw the anxiety set in quickly. he forced his eyes to tear away from your exposed skin. especially the tiny, cursive tattoo that was engraved on your side, making a slight appearance . god, wished it spelled out his name instead of what it really said.

"you look pretty" he said, you paused.

"thank you"

"i mean it, you're killing me" he said, eyes catching yours through the reflection of the mirror.

"rafe"

"i'm serious" he said, moving to stand behind you. his hands found their way to your hips. "if i was an insecure asshole, i'd tell you to go change"

your eyes stayed locked on his, finding it impossible to look away. not that you wanted to.

"but i'm not" he finished.

you were saved by the bell when his phone started to ring. he stepped back, taking the device out of his pocket and answering kelce's call. he still was close behind you as you finished up the last few touches.

he didn't do much to conceal his conversation which made it easy for you to make out most, if not all, of kelce's comments. one in particular you wanted to hang up and frame on the walls of your brain.

"you bringing your girl?"

"yeah, why wouldn't i be?"

the lines between your friendship and something more had been getting blurred for a while now, you both knew it, you both felt it. neither of you would come out and say anything about it though.

it didn't mean anything.

he finishes up his call with kelce as you finish getting ready.

you look pretty as ever. he almost regrets even inviting you, knowing guys would be eye fucking you the whole night. the good thing about being in the obx was that that's was all they would do, look. they knew better and if they didn't, they would sure learn better.

-

a/n: the first chapter ahhhh. what did you guys think??? i was fighting demons honestly not to make something happen right then and there. the parasite in me really, really wanted to but the writer in me said to make you guys wait a while longer. go read the social media chapter that ties into this because i think it's the funniest thing i've written!

chapter one → socials chapter one

masterlist

tag list: @princesspeaxhh

either comment or send me an ask to be added to the tag list!

[mikkomacko]

Reader x mob!boss Nico (also sorry if that's wrong, this is my first request for the series) but something angst smut maybe after Nico comes from the gym?

A/n: This has been in my inbox for literally months I am so sorry it took me so long to write this omg 🫶 but for those of you worried I ignored your blurb requests, they’re probably just in my drafts still lmao

I changed this up a bit but I hope you still love it!

Warnings: smut, jealous Nico, angry Nico

____________________________________________

Nico doesn’t have exes. He’s got old hook-ups and one night stands, girls that clearly come to the Rock looking for him. They’ve all heard about how hot the Devils boss is, as well as the Devils themselves.

It never bothered you.

Nico never had anything with them, at least nothing real, so you never thought you’d have to worry about jealousy between you and Nico. At least nothing beyond the light hearted pouting he does when you’re with Johnny or the way you attach yourself to his hip when girls are obviously flirting with him.

Until an old face made an appearance at the Rock.

You blame Jack for it, honestly. It was harmless, Tyson was harmless other than Nico recognizing the name as soon as you stumbled upon your old boyfriend at the bar. It was one of the first personal stories Nico ever heard about you. Your high school boyfriend, your first love, your first heartbreak. You dated him for a while, fell in love, decided to celebrate your year anniversary together by finally doing it. The universal act of love, the infamous first time from every rom-com.

Except there was nothing romantic or comedic about it at all. It was below average sex, the build up lasted longer than the act itself, and you felt so empty, so disappointed afterwards that you had burst into tears as soon as Tyson was off of you. He panicked, got dressed and basically ran out the door saying he'd check on you later. Later came the next day when he broke up with you, saying you were too much for him and should be with someone who could handle you.

Nico hated Tyson enough as is just for that story. And then he hated him even more when he strolled up to you at the bar and acted like old friends, chatting with you even as you tried to keep conversation quick. You know Nico would've scared Tyson off in a matter of seconds, but you wanted to be civil, so you let him hang with his arm around your shoulders, sipping his beer with a brooding look as Tyson babbled about his life to you.

And you were just about to excuse yourself when Jack ambled up to Nico and asked, "who's the douche?" Which just egged on your boyfriend, his temper already flaring and he shot Tyson a dirty look.

"Her ex."

"Ouch," Jack winced, then patted Nico on the shoulder and leaned into his ear. "She has a type, I'll tell you that."

It was just loud enough for you to hear, turning to Jack with a glare and to hopefully placate Nico but it was all for nothing. He was already angry, already boiling over with a jealousy you've never seen. Denying Jack's statement was only going to make it worse, even though the stupid boy was fucking with Nico. The only thing Nico and Tyson had in common was their dark eyes, and even then Nico's are far darker, hold more depth, are more beautiful.

"Sorry Tyler," Nico spits, not even attempting to be polite or genuine in his 'mishap" on the name. "We've gotta go."

Nico's dragging you away after that, hand on the back of your neck and even though he's jerky and rough as he guides you around the bar and down the hall, his hold isn't mean or hurting. Just demanding.

Swiftly, Nico shoves you through the door into the office, kicking it shut behind him and flicking the lock. You weren't going to say anything, knowing words right now would do nothing for Nico. He accepts and expresses love through physical acts. You two are working on the words thing, but when he's upset like this, it's best to stick what's fool proof.

His hands grab at your face, cupping your jaw and dragging you forward, smashing his lips to yours in a fierce, biting kiss. And you just let him, holding the sides of his neck in your careful hands, easily letting him lead you further into the office until your thighs hit the desk. They’ve barely touched the hardwood before he’s grabbing at your thighs, hefting you onto the desk with effortless strength.

You know Nico is strong, have seen him in the gym, have seen him moving boxes and furniture, have seen him fighting. And you’ve felt it firsthand. Yet every time it takes your breath away, reminds of you that you’re with a man now, not some silly boy like Tyson and all the other average Joes before Nico.

It sends a wave of heat down your spine and straight to your core, arousal pooling in your belly and suddenly it’s like you’re so fucking empty and useless, like you’re life’s mission is to get Nico as deep into your pussy as he could possibly get. How you ever lived without him between your thighs, you don’t know.

“Nico,” you whisper, pleadingly, whimpering when he bites your lip in retaliation. His eyes are dark and demanding when he looks at you, bordering on anger but you know him better.

He just wants your attention. He wants you.

“Don’t talk to me,” he scolds, then almost dismissively he grabs at the bottom of your shirt and starts to haul it up and over your head. “Not after you made me stand there with that fucking hodensniterin and play nice.”

Knowing better, knowing you’ll get him the way you want if you sit there and let him go about his way, you comply as he throws your shirt to the floor, already working his over his head.

You don’t even realize you’ve moved until Nico is staring down at you, an unimpressed look in his eyes. “Now you want me?” He goads, wrapping a hand around your wrist and stopping you from trailing your fingers any further over his abdomen. “You want to touch me?”

You’re nodding along before he’s even finished speaking, brain already going fuzzy from how needy you feel. It’s like all your brain can think about is him, all you can see is him, all you want is him. His name forms on your tongue again and you have to bite the inside of your cheek, forcing your mouth to stay shut.

Meanly, he laughs, yanking you up to your feet by the wrist. Like a rag doll you go with him, flung and maneuvered around so swiftly it catches you off guard when your elbows hit the desk, cushioned by something. Blinking a few times, you look down and realize Nico has thrown his shirt over the hardwood, bunched up as padding under you.

It’s such a sweet thing for him to do, not unexpected of him even when he’s like this, but it still makes your body flush with heat.

“Too fucking bad,” he continues, “I’m doing the touching. Not you.”

Like it’s instinct, you arch back into Nico when you feel the heat of his body get close to you. He chuckles lowly, barely skimming the palm of his hand over your ass but flinching away when you press back into him.

Tears of frustration sting at your eyes, desperation burning in your skin. If he’d just let you talk, let you tell him how badly you want him, how much you need him inside of you right now it’d be fine. But he’s in a mood and already told you not to talk to him.

His fingers hook into the band of your skirt and underwear, the pads of them rough and warm as they drag across your skin. In one pull he's yanking both over the globes of your ass and down your thighs, leaving them bunched up around your ankles.

The air is cold on your newly exposed skin, raises goosebumps on your skin and you shiver, squeezing your thighs together to preserve some heat in your burning core, and subtly relive some of the throbbing in your clit. Nico reacts before you can even let out a hum of satisfaction, wedging a hand between your thighs and smacking them back open.

"Spread them," he demands, shoving his foot between yours now for insurance. You groan, hiding your face in your arms and biting into the meat of your forearm to silence yourself. Apparently that's the wrong move too though because Nico bumps his knee into the back of yours. "Nuh-uh, hands now."

Begrudgingly, you slip your arms around to your back, pressing your wrists together. Chest and cheek flat on the desk, the new position pulls at the stretched muscles of your legs, the ache just enough to make you throb even more.

His left hand gathers yours in one, long fingers holding them together by the wrist, and he presses down into the small of your back. You whimper, more out of embarrassment and neediness than pain but Nico sills for a moment, his right hand stroking over your ass gently.

"You ok?" He checks, voice a quiet murmur and you take a mental check of your body. It's a little degrading being thrown and bent over his desk like this, ass up for him to do as he pleases, but it stings in the best way possible. You trust Nico, know that even when he's got you exposed and vulnerable like this he would never go too far, even though he could.

It's exhilerating.

"Tell me baby," Nico encourages, settling his hand on the seam of skin where your thigh meets the bottom of your ass.

"I'm ok," you say, closing your eyes and breathing in the cologne on his shirt, the rich scent of him. It's soothing and you quickly amend, "I'm perfect, Schao."

You can picture the pleased smile on his face, the dimple it carves into his cheek.

"Good girl," he purrs, dragging his thumb through your folds. The sudden touch sends a shock wave through you, hips canting and rising to your toes to give him better access to your swollen and desperate clit.

"S'this all you needed to be nice to me again?" Nico skips over where you want him the most, going back to thumbing at your hole teasingly. "To pay attention to me instead of that cock-sucker out there?"

You're not sure if your allowed to talk again, so you bite your tongue, sucking in quivering breathes of air through your nose to stay grounded. I was just being polite, you want to say, to defend yourself. I hate him and I love you Nico.

Torturously slow, Nico dips his thumb between your folds, sinking into just the knuckle and you hold your breathe, scared that any sudden movement will spook him into stopping.

He pumps his thumb in shallow movements, careful and calculated. It's not everything you want from him but it's something, a content breath puffing out of your nose.

"Thinks he knows you," Nico mutters, more to himself than you. He pulls back, his thumb suddenly disappearing and you whine, pussy clenching down on nothing. Thankfully, Nico doesn't care about the bratty noise enough to scold you. He silences you with two thick fingers, shoving them into you up so abruptly you flinch, digging your cheek further into his shirt.

"He doesn't," Nico says, louder this time like he's trying to remind you. It goes in one ear and out the other, your mind to preoccupied with the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you. He pets at the sensitive sponge part of you, curling his fingers to hit it dead on and your knees shake.

"He doesn't know how to bend you over like this, how to take you apart like I do, does he?"

Your fingers clench into fists, stomach clenching and every push of Nico's finger stretching you pushes you closer and closer to your orgasm. His hand on your wrists tightens, holding you in place and then his fucking his fingers into you faster. Your orgasm crashes over you, white stars bursting behind closed eyes.

He's still talking to himself, muttering stuff under his breath and stroking you through your high. Your thighs quiver and shake, the insides of them damp with it and your knees fully give out, leaving you a heap on the desk. The pounding in your ears must have blocked out the sound of Nico's zipper and the drop of his jeans, because your caught of guard when his fingers have only left you for a second before the weeping head of his cock is prodding at your pussy.

In one swift motion he buries himself in you, stretching your walls as his hips sit tightly against your ass. You feel useless, boneless after your orgasm, only able to lay there and take it. It's so nice you could cry, sniffling as Nico pulls back and fucks into you, a raw moan ripping from his throat.

"Fuck so perfect for me," he compliments, setting a fast and brutal pace. Your thighs and hips smack into the desk so harshly they'll definitely be sore tomorrow if not bruised too. His other hand grabs at your side, holding you so tightly you can feel his fingers between your ribs, painfully keeping you still.

"Just for me, fucking made for me."

You gasp, arch further into his strong body as your walls flutter around him. "All for you Nico," you mumble submissively, hoping to god that that's what he wants from you, that he wants to hear you. He groans in approval, the sound wrecked and rough. "Just want you, only ever want you, Nico."

Somehow he picks up the pace, fucking into you even harder and in the back of your mind you wonder where the fuck he got such a sturdy desk. Pressing his chest to your back, Nico sweeps your hair to the side, his lips finding the side of your neck.

"He had you first," he says low, breath hot against your ear "but I get you forever, right?"

Desperately, you nod, another orgasm building in the base of your belly. "Forever," you confirm. "He had me first, you'll be the last to have me Nico."

Sweetly, Nico kisses your temple. "Tell me," he request, now kissing at your jaw. "I want to hear more baby."

The juxtaposition of his cock fucking you into next week and his mouth being so sweet and soft cuts through you, leaves you raw and exposed to him. You knees shake again, thighs quivering as your high gets closer and closer, stronger now that he's already left you used and sensitive.

"He was the first to have me," you choke out, Nico's mouth ghosting over your cheek as he waits with bated breath. "but you were the first to have me raw, boss."

Nico makes a wounded sound, like he'd been punched in the gut and his hips stutter for a moment before picking up the same pace. He captures your mouth in a biting kiss, licking into your mouth with such dominance and control it sends you over the edge.

He fucks you through it, rocking his hips a few more times before he too stills, buried to the hilt as he comes. You pulse around him, greedily accept everything he pumps into you with absolutely no resistance. Nico kisses at your slack mouth, mumbling soft praises as you come down from your second orgasm.

"So good, baby. You did so good for me," he dots kisses under your eye, dragging his fingers across the skin and you blink your eyes open, realize your eyelashes are clumpy with tears and he's drying your cheeks for you.

"Nico," you cry, legs and hips aching, the edge of the desk digging into your skin uncomfortably He shifts, taking his weight off of you and releasing your hands. They prickle with pins and needly, the blood rushing back to them as they fall to your sides, numbly.

"I got you sweet girl," he assures, kissing down your back. Your in a haze as he pulls his jeans and boxers back up, then helps ease your underwear and skirt back into place. You make a noise complaint, needing to at least clean up a little bit but you don't make a move to do anything.

"You're fine," Nico tells you, slipping a hand under your stomach to drag you up from the desk. "Can sit out there with me dripping from you, yeah? Want you to remember who takes such good care of you now."

Like mush, you let Nico turn and sit you on the desk again, swiping his black shirt from the surface. He looks so pretty standing over you, cheeks flush and glowing, eyes still dark with arousal. His hair falls a little flat over his forehead, a crooked and boyish smile on his face.

"Yeah," you agree, still dazed as he uses his shirt to wipe under your eyes and around your lips, cleaning the spit remaining from his mouth.

Nico leans down, kisses between your eyes in a move so soft and fluttering it tickles, makes you blush like a school girl. "You're never too much," he promises, recalling the reason why Tyson had broken up with you. "You are everything. So pretty when you come, when you cry for me like that. I live for it."

Your heart aches in your chest, his kind words drawing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. It had been something that followed you, an insecurity always in the back of your mind. You accepted whatever love you could get because you thought that was it. You were too much, they couldn't offer you more and you couldn't ask for more.

Until Nico.

"I love you Schao."

He smiles all handsome and precious, smoothing your hair down with a gentle hand. "Love you more, my baby."

You fall forward into his stomach, cheek pressing into the damp skin on his ribs. You want to hug him but your arms are still regaining their feeling and your legs are tired right now, so you settle for lazily wrapping an arm around his thighs.

“What’s a hodensniterin?”

He snickers, hand on your head, protectively. “Ball fucker.”

[happypopcornprincess]

Chapter 1 || I Can See You

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader

Premise - At a glamorous gala, Y/N's life intertwines with Joaquin's. A pact ensues, while a dangerous mission looms.

Word Count - 2.8K

Warnings: SMUT, Angst, Mentions of blood, domestic violence

a/n - This story is based between the events of Endgame and Brave New World. In this AU, Tony Stark survived and the New characters of the MCU are on the way to be the new recruits of the Avengers. Hope you guys like this <3

Series Masterlist

Avengers Compound, Post Endgame

If it wasn’t for Pepper to quite literally threaten you to attend her Annual Charity Gala, you wouldn’t even be here. The atmosphere around you was straight out of some high society drama. The grey walls of the newly reconstructed avengers compound were covered in silver tones, a huge silver chandelier hanging in the middle of the hall, there was laughter in the air, and everyone was dressed to the nines. 

Just how a party was supposed to be… when the host was the one and only Pepper Potts. Tony was there too, even though his hand was still recovering from the snap, but he was cheery and loud as always.

You sipped your champagne in silence, standing far away from the dance floor. 

You were chosen by Sam from MIT to help the Avengers. You had trained with the new recruits, Kate, Peter… They were good kids. Training with them was… well, it was something. Sam was great, and helped you all adjust. Honestly, the Avengers? They were intimidating. superhuman intimidating. But you had your strengths. Sharpshooting was always your thing. And you threw yourself into the training, every single bit of it. They told you it was for intel missions, to keep you out of direct harm's way. But that wasn't enough. You wanted more. Because you were not aiming for 'safe.' 

You were aiming to be an Avenger.

Your job was to figure out how Kingpin just vanished into thin air after Christmas. The task has taken over your daily routine after you met Kate Bishop. It’s been months of interviewing eyewitnesses, going on the streets undercover, nights of no sleep with a shit ton of coffee, and just when you think you’re about to solve it… you meet a dead end.

“Trying to hide behind the curtains again are we y/n?” Bucky’s voice made you look to your right, and there he was. Standing next to you wearing a sharp three-piece black suit, his hair slicked back.

You finally understood what Steve meant when he would say girls back then would throw themselves at Bucky.

He turned to you in disgust, “Are you checking me out?”

“You wish, asshole.” You mutter in your glass.

You and Bucky had developed an unlikely friendship after the blip bought him back. He was pardoned, and moved into a quaint apartment complex deep in the city, unknown to the fact that you lived right next to his place.

On a stormy night after the nightmares won’t let you both sleep, sharing one bottle of whiskey between you was all it took for you to spill your life to him. You have turned into each other’s best friends and occasional love life advisor, although it was kind of a package deal.

Which is why you knew the reason he was so dressed up for the first time since you met.

“You see Sam anywhere?” he asks you nonchalantly.

You give him a sly smirk, “Why? Can’t wait to shove your tongue down his throat?”

Bucky gives you a sideward glance, and goes back to looking at the crowd.

He was still figuring out his feelings towards both men and women, especially towards one man.

Returning from the Flag Smashers situation, he would not shut up how ‘annoying’ and ‘frustratingly righteous’ Sam Wilson is, how his smirk makes him want to ‘strangle’ him.

You asked him one evening if he was having a ‘full-on-bi-panic’ and he threw a pillow at your face.

“y/n! there you are!” Sam bellows as he walks towards the two of you, wearing a crisp grey suit over a white button up, looking as dapper as always.

“Sam!” you laugh, giving him a tight hug. He was your mentor, someone you looked up to. And hopefully your bestie’s future boyfriend.

“You look absolutely gorgeous!” he threw you one of his classic smiles as he retreated.

You look down to the pastel pink knee length dress you were wearing.

Hustling the life of an avenger straight out of MIT, it was the only dress you owned. And after paying for it out of your own pocket you realize fancy dresses cost a hand and a leg, and you refuse to part from it.

“Thank you Sam I-” you were about to thank him but stopped once you noticed him absolutely gawking at Bucky.

“Hey Bucky.” He smiled.

“Hey Sam.” Bucky gave him a nod.

You almost roll your eyes at the exchange, wondering when they will move on from the weird talking phase.

“Hello.”

An angelic voice interrupted your train of thoughts. Looking away your eyes meet a pair of the warmest brown eyes. He was standing behind Sam. A tall, tan-skinned man, wearing a crisp black suit stood in front of you. His curls fell on his forehead, and his smile was intoxicating.

He looked like a high surf tide; calling out for you to test the waters.

You extend your right hand, smiling at him. “Hey, I’m y/n”

He held it with his right, it made your heart race when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, his hands warm and his lips soft, sending a jolt through your body.

Oh, he’s mischief alright!

You were left speechless when he straightened, a smirk thrown out your way as Sam spoke up, “This is the guy I told y’all about! Lt. Joaquin Torres.” He slapped a hand on Joaquin’s back, smiling with pride.

“And this is y/n y/l/n, fresh transfer from MIT. She’s our tech genius, and a walking journal on film recommendations.”

Laughter followed as your eyes couldn’t help but stay trained on Joaquin. Thinking back on the time when Sam told the team about the new Falcon joining them after a while, you somehow manage to speak up at that moment, “Welcome to the circus.” You take a deliberately long sip of your float, never breaking eye contact.

He gulped nervously, eyes wide, clearly startled by you flirting. 

“You haven’t had a drink yet Lieutenant? Let’s get you something.” you smile involuntarily.

He stands back for you to lead the way, “Sure. And it’s just Joaquin, please.” he laughs just after, his honey laced voice paired with your tad bit hazy mind doing wonders to your imagination.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/--/-

They keep watchful eyes on us So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet You won't believe half the things I see inside my head Wait 'til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet

“Wait a minute…” you smiled, “you cannot possibly think Love Actually is better than The Holiday?”

“It’s the perfect rom com!” Joaquin laughs, “it covered basically every rom com trope under the sun.”

“But, listen to me, but…” you say, your slightly tipsy self leaning on the wall behind you, as Joaquin stood in front of you, holding his own glass of whiskey, “Quantity never matters in front of quality. All characters in The Holiday are well written with meaningful backgrounds and great character redemption arcs. And it’s got Jude Law.”

Joaquin raises his hands, “Jude Law.”

“Jude Law.” you laugh, at how he was mocking a defeated pose.

“When Sam told me I can’t lose a movie debate with you, I couldn’t believe him.”

You try to curtsey, “thank you.”

“Wanna get out of here?” Joaquin blurted out abruptly.

It took you a while to gain your consciousness, and a laugh left your lips at what he just said. You saw his eyes traveling to your lips, and how his breath fastened as you took a deliberately long sip of your drink.

You smirked, “sure.”

—/—/—

You find yourself sneaking through the backdoor and upstairs towards the living quarters of the Avengers compound as you drag Joaquin by his coat as you slip into an unassigned room. The furniture was still uncovered, but there was a couch in a corner right next to the opened windows where moonlight pooled in.

Perfect.

The alcohol surging through your system gives you newfound courage, and seconds later Joaquin was being thrown on the couch by you. His pupils dilated, his gaze trained on you and his scent lingering in the air, you straddled him without hesitation.

 “Are you good?” His breathy voice went straight to your core, and without a word you crashed your lips on his.

He’s gonna be the death of me.

The taste of expensive champagne hit your mouth, Joaquin’s tongue slipping in your mouth sliding in with fervor. Your gasp is swallowed by his lips, his hands travelling south towards the zipper of your dress.

Your hands fumble with his coat, taking it off of him and raising his shirt just enough to slide your hands underneath. Warm, toned muscles met your hands, and the way he sucked your lips made you forget everything. You couldn’t breathe, but couldn’t move away from him either, entirely lost in taking him in.

Joaquin jerked back all of a sudden, making you whine.

“Wait, wait…” He breathed out, his breath cooling your skin.

“Just kiss me.” You exhaled, grabbing his tie to pull him in, but he leaned back.

Joaquin gently held your wrists, “y/n… hey, look at me,” he breathlessly said, “look at me for a second.”

You do, at his messy hair, puffy lips, and blown out pupils.

He holds out his hand, “how many fingers am I holding up.”

You scrunch your brows in confusion, eyes drifting to his fingers in front of your face. You get the tunnel vision every time you’ve had a bit too much whiskey, you see double.

Concentrating hard on your answer, you slur out, “four?”

Joaquin closes his eyes, looking up and huffing out a breath, “you’re very drunk.” You feel his hands on your waist, and he carefully sits you down on the couch next to him.

You whine at the loss of his touch as he gets up from the couch. He returns a minute later with a bottle of water, sitting next to you and making you drink the entire thing.

“Can we go back to the part where you kiss me until I forget my name?” you breathe out.

Joaquin laughs out, settling down next to you and leaning back on the couch. You straighten your dress, and sit with your shoulders touching. You steal a glance his way.

His coat was gone, his tie hung loose on his neck, his white button shirt straining on his arms…

Someone works out…

The faint moonlight hitting from behind him made the outline of the veins on his neck visible.

I want to lick it...

You scrunch your eyes as soon as you hear that inside your head.

Wow, he’s right, I am drunk.

“As much as I’d like to do that,” he looks your way, “I can’t. You’re very drunk.”

A smile itches on your face, and you ask, “so what should we do then?”

“Talk?” he suggests, turning to you, resting his head on the backrest and looking you right in your eyes. “I know nothing about you. You know nothing about me. Let’s talk.”

You laugh out loud, “okay,” the smile refusing to leave your face, “what do you want to know?”

“Anything.” he says with a warm smile on his face.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You wake up in an unfamiliar room and a blinding headache, on a mattress too soft for your liking, the sunlight hitting your face with full force.

Grunting, you sit up, rubbing your forehead.

Something slips off your body, and you look down and find someone has covered you with a black suit coat while you slept.

The man with the warm eyes and gentle touch.

You laugh, rubbing your head at the absurdity of the situation.

You wear it over your dress and walk out of the room, after last night’s party everybody would be sleeping in. You can sneak out unnoticed.

You swiftly call an uber, and shove your hands inside the pockets of Joaquin’s coat.

The feel of rough paper makes you stop in your tracks, you take it out of the pocket to see a torn piece of labeling paper inside, a note greeting you.

9546-555-6783 See you soon, I guess? (Take care of my coat till then? It’s my favorite suit.) -         Joaquin

-/-/-/-/-/-

You brush past me in the hallway And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya? I’ve been watchin' you for ages And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

Joaquin joined the team a week later. He chose to stay on the compound, and soon blended in with the new avengers. Peter and Kate grew especially fond of him. When Shang-Chi joined the ranks, he, too, was welcomed into your close-knit circle.

You spared during training, made breakfast together, had constant debates on cinema and stories. He loved the classics, and you had a nick for science fiction. You should have cancelled out each other, but your differences only made your bond stronger. The differences weren't a barrier; they were a bridge. You shared tech skills learned during your time at  MIT, revealing the details of coding and circuits. In return, he shared practical knowledge from his air force background; survival techniques and tactical strategies.

Your apartment, though smaller than the compound's common areas, became the gathering spot for your group. Lazy weekends of your teams were spent at your place, you'd watch old movies, host game nights, and then collapse on any available surface.

Peter had a habit of entering your apartment through your window, and Kate never got used to it. Takeout was a foreign concept with your friends. Instead, Shang-Chi and Joaquin would take over the kitchen, making a mouth watering combination of asian food and mexican food, that could best possibly win them masterchef if they ever could.

These people, this band of young individuals navigating life… they became your chosen family. They were your support system, your confidantes, your partners in crime.

No one seemed to notice the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the quiet conversations that stretched late into the night. Or perhaps they did notice, and simply didn't care. 

-/-/-/-/-/-

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Clouds grumbled above, as angry raindrops splattered on your apartment window. You were sitting on your couch with three devices settled in front of you: a laptop and two tablets running algorithms and analytics for locating kingpin. Kate had gathered intel that he still had someone in the states giving him updates and keeping him safe. But where?

That was a question you were determined to get answers to. Which is why you had made it your mission to get to the base of this.

Amidst the thunderous rain outside, you hear a knock on the door, and from the corner of your eye you witness Joaquin enter, carrying takeout containers.

“You’ll have to use the fork for the noodles, I just ran out of chopsticks!” you shout, without even looking at his direction.

“Y/n” Joaquin huffed out in frustration, “please tell me you didn’t ‘sense’ Thai food from me.”

“I did.” you laugh, looking at the bewildered Joaquin standing in your kitchen. He had jeans and a sleeveless gym shirt on. Involuntarily your eyes went to his toned arms, and you did a quick diversion of your thoughts to the TV.

”I come bearing sustenance. Chow Mein and Thai green curry, extra spicy, just how you like it.” he says, followed by the scrunching of the takeout container.

You sit up straighter with a smile itching on your lips, your favorite food just when you were low on inspiration. “You're a lifesaver, these logistics are killing me.”

Joaquin sets the containers on the coffee table. He sits next to you, close enough that your thighs brush. He huffs out, “Tell me about it. Sam's been drilling us on contingency plans all day. I swear, he's got a backup plan for the backup plan.”

You laugh, “That's Sam for you. Always prepared.”

You open the containers, the aroma of the curry filling the room, and digging into the food in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“You got something on your…” Joaquin speaks, and you look at him with a particularly big bite in your mouth. 

“Hmm?” you mutter.”

He reaches out and gently wipes a bit of sauce from the corner of your mouth. The gesture is intimate, lingering a moment too long. If you don’t count your sparring training, this was the closest you had been since ‘that’ night at the charity gala. Your hands grab his arm on their own.

It feels… good. Too good. It's been so long since anyone touched you like this. Desired you. Like you mattered. Like you weren't just… a disappointment. You… you want this. You want him. 

But what if you mess it up? What if you push him away, like you did with… 

Your heart almost leapt out of your chest as he gently cupped your face in his hands, your gaze locked on his warm brown eyes. He leaned in towards your lips, a silent question in his expression. You paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing your face, and gently pulled back.

He too leaned back, respecting your space. The tension remained, but now it carried a hint of gentle inquiry.

Looking down, you fidgeted with your hands, "It's not that I don't… I just… we need to be sure about this." You huffed out in frustration, trying to articulate your tangled thoughts.

"I want you," he stated, his voice low and sincere. You looked up at him instantly, his pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. "I want you in ways you can't imagine, y/n. And I will walk out of here right now if you don't want this. We can forget this ever happened."

Thunder roared in the skies above, and lightning illuminated his face through the window as he paused, his expression open and honest. "But," he gulped, his eyes searching yours, "if you do want this… then…"

He left the rest unsaid, giving you the space to make your own choice.

Your internal conflict finally tipped towards action.

Oh, fuck this… 

His words were lost as soon as you crashed your lips on his.

—/—/—

You stumbled into your room, Joaquin’s lips didn’t leave yours as he threw the two of you on the bed. Pulling you under him, his hands were everywhere. Your mind could only catch up with a few, as it was too busy taking in all of him.

Joaquin made you feel like your entire body was on fire. Your hands flew straight to his hair, a moan leaving his lips. You did quick work on his clothes, leaving him in his boxers as he got busy removing yours.

No words were exchanged as he moved low, kissing and sucking your skin in all the places that made your vision hazy. You could only whine and gasp as he grabbed your legs and rested them on his shoulders.

And then he stopped.

You look down to see a mischievous grin plastered on his face, his pupils blown wide.

“Joaquin…” you breathe out, “stop teasing me.”

His eyes darken as he let out a low murmur against your skin and without warning dived in, a loud moan leaving your lips as pleasure rushed through your body.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

And I could see you being my addiction You can see me as a secret mission

“So… what is this?” you ask, lying next to him covered in sweat, panting. You rolled away next to him, completely exhausted from your acts that lasted three blissful hours.

“You’re asking this now?” he mutters, eyes fixed at the ceiling. “I’m pretty sure fraternizing between teammates is not allowed here.” He groans.

You close your eyes, trying to think about if that rule existed among the Avengers. As far as you knew nobody was involved with each other here. “We can be friends.” You suggest.

“What!” you feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to him leaning over you.

 “No, just… think about it.” You shift to lean on the headboard, gathering the sheets to cover your chest, “you’re new to the team.”

Joaquin takes a pillow to cover himself and sits cross-legged in front of you, “okay.”

You stop for a second, staring at his abs.

Y/n stop it! Focus!

“We can’t just go ahead and announce that we’re sleeping together, or dating. They will never let us live this down. Especially Bucky. And Kate. Maybe Sam…” You state, matter of factly.

“Wait, wait! Stop!” he gestures, eyebrows scrunched, “You want to date me?”

“No! I don’t like you like that!” almost scream out, “do you wanna date me?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then I don’t see a problem with… this!” You throw out your hands.

“What is this exactly?” Joaquin pointed between you two.

You groan, “ugh, you’re as thick as it gets!” You adjust the sheets around your body to free your hands, “what did you think of me the first time you saw me?”

“At the gala? Huh…” he thinks, “That you have the prettiest smile.” he shocks you with the last part, but then he adds on, “also you looked hot in that pink dress.”

There we go.

“Well, I thought you had a great voice, and your eyes were really pretty.” You truthfully admit, “also you looked like trouble… and I have a thing for bad boys.”

“I’m twenty-five.”

“Whatever.”

“You swear you don’t want anything other than sex with me?” he asks you.

You nod, “Yeah. You?”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

Joaquin gets up from his place, picking up his boxers and putting them on, “So just to be clear… we’re friends.”

“Yep!” you catch your sweatshirt that he throws your way.

He puts on his shirt next, “With benefits.”

“Absolutely.” You say, debating whether you should get up the bed or not, exhaustion rolling over your senses.

“And you promise you won’t fall in love with me.” He points to you.

“Oh please, if anything you’ll be falling first.” You say through a yawn.

Joaquin laughs putting on his pants, “well, I’m gonna go get something to eat. You want something?”

“Do you mind if I take a nap? I’m tired.” You grimace.

He smiles at you, “Go ahead.”

You fall back on the bed, as you hear his footsteps going away… the sweet embrace of sleep following you next.

—/—/—

Few weeks later

Your place or mine?

Your screen lit up with the message from Joaquin. You smirked

Yours? In an hour? You press send, and let out a laugh as you see the blue tick instantly.

Done.

Before you could ask him the reason he got so worked up, you hear F.R.I.D.A.Y’s automated voice - Scan. Complete.

A low hum filled the operations center as you meticulously analyzed the fragmented data streams scanned by F.R.I.D.A.Y. Dozens of photographs presented infront of you but your eyes instantly locked in on one in particular. Your focus narrowed on a grainy image emerging from the static. 

Broad shoulders, crisply pressed suit, gold rings on the fingers… could it be…

“Y/n!” Kate and Peter shout in unison as you slapped a stack of files on the kitchen table. Sam, Bucky, Shang Chi, Joaquin, all who were just about to eat, whipped their heads towards the commotion.

“I think I've found him,” you announced, pointing to the figure.

Sam and Bucky shared a look, and rushed towards you as you opened up a holographic display on your tab. Joaquin and you share a look, he was amused, a small smile on his face letting you know he was excited for what you found out, you smirked and quickly look away trying to focus on the scene infront of you.

“All this time I was searching for him here… but…” Cross-referencing facial recognition, thermal readings, and satellite data, you enlarged a section of the display, revealing a stark desert landscape. “The terrain, the temperature… it all points to one place... Mexico.”

A collective sense of surprise filled the room. 

'Mexico?' Peter questioned, 'What's he doing down there?' 

You zoomed in on a satellite image, enhanced thermal readings revealing a network of hidden structures. 'I don’t know, but he's planning something,' you stated, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice. 'Something big.' The implications hung heavy in the air. 

“This changes everything.” You nodded, your gaze fixed on the display. 'We need to move fast.”

To Be Continued...

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Next Chapter will be up soon... Love y'all, Take Care!

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