#i am having such a hard week already like not sure how I am supposed to get through the rest of this week to be honest

[doberbutts]

hello! I'm the one that sent you that ask a week or so ago. Sorry I didn't check to see if you'd answered for a while because I was just so upset and had to take a second. I will say I scrolled through a bunch of helpful posts you reblogged before I even found the ask again that helped a LOT.

Two things I thought you might want to know is that it wasn't speculation that you'd blocked the weirdo blog that sent me your way: they literally have "proudly blocked by doberbutts" in their bio which was why i felt safe coming to you lmao. Second is I guess my struggle with this issue was an overall struggle with how bad wider misogyny has gotten in general and how muddied it's gotten with the "male loneliness crisis" and like, centering men's issues under patriarchy and just how insanely upset it's been making me. Seeing cis MRAs identify with trans men freaked me out because like, yeah it's important to talk about how (cis) men suffer under patriarchy but it's just so rare for me to find men do that without devolving into misogyny, and I start to feel so helpless because I know validating these issues matter but women are being literally dehumanized openly. I do play oppression olympics with this specific issue and just of COURSE women suffer more under patriarchy, but the same men who demand space to air how they suffer won't acknowledge that truth. (sorry for soapboxing; some of them do! It's just...things are so bad for women rn lol it's really hard to have compassion when it feels like none is being given to me).

So the more I see this issue the more I think people are being affected by larger misogyny like I am, but are doing the typical thing that happens where you lash out at a group you can "reach." Policing and harassing trans men's behaviours is way easier than cis men. I've also been seeing some parallels between this discourse and the "gay men vs lesbian women" discourse. It's not really a one-to-one but the discussion of the role of misogyny re homophobia towards gay men who still have male privilege but, come on, if they have feminine affectation it's Different and the back and forth that used to happen when gay men and lesbian women did oppression olympics, it just feels similar.

idk as i type this I hope I don't come across disingenuous or like, my Too Casual Overly Respectful tone is trying to subtly incept you. I worry my vibes are too "women first" but I just can't help it misogyny really is ruining my life 😭. Anyways I'm very grateful for your perspective and your blog. I feel more settled and equipped to push back against anti transmasculine behaviour with rhetoric that can actually challenge people

To respond to each point in turn:

1: Again I still don't really know who that is, though I am somewhat bemused by the idea that someone I clearly don't really remember is still so obsessed with me that they're proud I've blocked them. For the record, my block list is as follows: people who send anonymous hate, people who continue to harass me after I've told them to stop, people I catch with posts containing inexcusable bigotry, obvious trolls, self-identified zoophiles and MAPs, and people who repeatedly send me fundraisers after I have already said I only share fundraisers from people I know and trust. Being on my block list is, um, not really good company, so it's kind of funny to me that someone is proud to be there. Yeah I'm sure they'll fit right in with the neo-nazis and dogfuckers and cyber bullies. Oh and I guess my ex but I only blocked them after they started harassing me about our failed relationship years later. Enjoy block hell I suppose.

2: I'm not really here to play who has it worse, not because I don't recognize the wider understanding of privilege vs oppression but because I think it is a self-defeating thread of thought because you will always find a "more oppressed" example, and I think that people should be allowed to talk about their hurts regardless of their status of "more oppressed" vs "less oppressed". Talking about the ways society has hurt them is not what makes MRAs dangerous. What makes them dangerous is who they blame, how they go about fixing their problem, and the solutions to their problems they come up with.

To be quite frank, the majority of MRAs are men who have experienced some form of social rejection or isolation. Most have been sold some patriarchal lie about how by being men they inherently deserve good sex with hot women on demand, a wife at home to keep barefoot and pregnant, a high paying job where they are respected and valued regardless of the effort they themselves put into it, and all the luxuries that lifestyle can afford. This is a fantasy, you and I both know it. And when these men realize the hard reality that we live in an age of extreme social isolation, that in order to have a partner you need to actually have more personality than a used dishrag and with only half the mess at max, that good sex is about give and take and not just yourself, that these high paying jobs are few and far between with most takers being born into some level of wealth rather than any merit they themselves have earned... they lash out.

It does not at all help things to understand that many of these MRAs are themselves marginalized in some way, but their framework not only doesn't let them see it but also advocates a harsh rejection of anyone who is self-aware enough to realize it. A lot of these guys are undiagnosed, have trauma, and are just as affected by the systems of racism, classism, homo- and trans-phobia, xenophobia, sexism, and ableism as the rest of us.

Quite frankly, I'd rather these dudes see a group of (trans) men fighting for our place in society by joining hands with other activists with more feminist, black-friendly, disabled-friendly, gay- and trans-friendly in an attempt to lift everyone out of the pit rather than continuing to fight over scraps... than to see them continue to blame women and Jews and then go shoot up a school or a mall about it. One of these helps. The other just kills people and excuses rape. There's a lot of value in deradicalizing people by offering them a path to resolving their pain that is perhaps less destructive and more constructive.

This is also why the constant comparison to MRAs annoys me. MRAs kill people in senseless acts of terror and despair because they're upset that they're not having the sex fantasy the patriarchy sold them. Trans men talking about our oppression- regardless of the word we use to express it- are mostly talking amongst ourselves about suicide and rape statistics and sharing ways to get hormones and surgery despite unwilling doctors and insurance companies. We're talking about how our social groups rejected us the moment we came out, or how people use us being men against us in ways that was not happening before we came out or passed. These are not at all equivalent conversations.

3: Again I ask you- I see people using both cis and trans feminist frameworks to hurt other people. Where is your concern for that? I am equally concerned about TERFs as I am about MRAs, as they have driven multiple transgender people and our allies to suicide and even have committed acts of violence against people irl as a result of their ideology. Most TERFs will also be the first ones to tell you that they have been hurt, deeply, by men and that they also are frequently undiagnosed or untreated, traumatized, and affected by the same systems of oppression. Does their existence and their determination to latch onto every feminist conversation including those of people who are staunchly against them then poison all feminism to you? If not, then why make that distinction for trans men and MRAs?

I am black. I am Indigenous. I am transgender. I am gay. I am disabled. I am poor. I suffer. People hurt me. I see every day how bad things are. Do you think I cannot see it, or that my ignorance is the reason for my request for compassion? Perhaps consider that it is rather my knowledge and my lived experience that fuel my call for compassion, instead. I never said it would be easy. But I do think it would make a better world.

4: I do actually agree that it is very similar to the gay man vs lesbian conversation and have said for a while that it's the same queer infighting discussion we've already hashed out for the last 50 or so years, but the target groups just swapped out. It's just butchphobia, it's just biphobia, it's just aphobia, it's just panphobia, it's just nbphobia- it's the same fucking shit over and over and over again. It was shit infighting before and it's shit infighting now. Privilege is a conversation that depends so heavily on context, and the way it has been bastardized by the internet's poor understanding of political frameworks developed by women of color and their allies into cute soundbites and phrases rather than a deep, nuanced knowledge will never fail to annoy me.

Do gay men have privilege over lesbians? As a class, sure, they would have male privilege. But what do we mean by male privilege? The privilege to not worry about being assaulted on the street? To walk home late at night unbothered? To marry who they want, to have the romantic partner they desire, to feel safe within a domestic partnership? You and I both know that doesn't quite match up to the lived experience of gay men worldwide or even here in the "gay paradise" US. How does this interact with other marginalizations? Does a black gay man have privilege over a white lesbian? What happens if he's a drag queen dressed up for an event and she's a butch that passes for cis male? Does that change retroactively if this "gay man" figures out she's actually a transbian 5 years later, and the lesbian is a TERF? I'm not saying this breaks the framework of male privilege- I am saying that sometimes the theory doesn't match the reality, and a nuanced and intersectional understanding is required when talking on an individual scope rather than class politics.

Additionally- as a side note- it is also incredibly annoying to watch people act like privilege = oppressor = dangerous, and oppressed = victim = safe. Privilege, and whether or not you have any, is not a moral indicator nor is it an indicator of the safety of the person you're interacting with. I have privilege over people who cannot walk, because I can. I am not objectively or systemically oppressing people who cannot walk by the use of my legs in my day-to-day life. Oppression is action- if I vote for policies and politicians that removes ramps and safety regulations and provisions to assist wheelchair users? Now I am oppressing people who cannot walk. If I block or move or interfere with the disability aids, if I mock people or assault or harm them, if I dump them out of their mobility aids or break them, that is oppression. The act of climbing the 3 stairs on my front porch to get into my house is a privilege, but the oppression stems from the people who built my house to even have stairs on both exits.

5: lastly to end a very long post, I don't actually think there's any harm in centering yourself when discussing things that objectively affect you, as long as you remember to include others who are affected and let them have their floor to also center themselves when they need to speak up. I am a black trans man. My politics are pretty centered on black feminism. I don't think that is objectively a bad thing. I prefer to let the demographics with similar problems speak for themselves- I would rather my trans fem friends get the mic when they open their mouths, my lesbian friends, my Jewish friends, my latino and asian and arab friends. I don't think there's anything wrong with them centering their own problems and outlooks, as long as they recognize that there's shared space to be had with others who feel similar hurts. I think it's pretty normal to center yourself. I think the difficult thing is knowing when to relinquish the megaphone to someone who's been dying to use it, while you yourself still have so much to say.

[loumauve]

I snapped today at work, and by snapped I mean I politely commented on a help desk ticket by summing up an mess of an (type of) issue that's come up for at least the fourth time in the 2+ months I've been managing user accounts, and asked the person responsible to fix it (himself for once) because last time I fixed his mess-up it took me two whole days to work out the details with at least four other colleagues from different departments and I really don't want to do it again. there's other shit that needs doing, I've been working 10+ hour days for most of this week already, so I need to cut down not add on more.

(good thing tho - at least we managed to fix the issue where the dataset of a newer employee got mixed up with another one of the same name and therefore wasn't able to apply for any of the access/accounts she needed. technically not entirely my area but it does impact us not being allowed to create an account for her so I figured I might as well track that issue down. took three days and at least three other people, but hey - it should all work out now. yay for that)

[peppermintmochafem]

<3

[coridallasmultipass]

.

[talaok]

Acting Normal

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: Javi’s been thinking about that night every minute of every day, while you're acting like it never even happened, and if he doesn't do something about it, he's gonna lose his mind.

warnings: smut| fingering, protected p in v sex, dirty talk, javi being a simp, sex in the workplace, (it's not public but there's a possibility of getting caught)

a/n: I already know what to write for part 3, this couple is my new obsession lol

This is a part 2 to this story, but it can be read alone

Javi

This was really important stuff

He was really supposed to be listening

He was paid to listen to it,

that's what he kept repeating himself,

and yet- yet if someone asked him to repeat whatever Carillo was saying, he couldn't have spit out one singular word.

But it wasn't his fault, not really.

You must have been doing it on purpose, there was no way you were doing all that just accidentally.

Your lips were wrapped around the lollipop in a way that left nothing to the imagination- he could feel those lips on him, he knew how soft and sweet they were from kissing them, but around him... oh they would feel even sweeter, he was sure-

"If you're not gonna listen to me then why am I even here?"

It took Javier much too long to realize what Carillo had said

"I'm listening" he stated with enough confidence to fool anyone- except he was talking to one of the few people that could see right through his bullshit.

"I'm surprised you haven't done it yet" the Colonel shook his head, blowing out a cloud of smoke "I thought she would have given in by now"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

Carillo couldn't help but laugh.

"You've been obsessed with her since she first arrived"

Javier hadn't even noticed that his gaze was back on you... or that his colleague had spoken again.

"yeah," Carillo chuckled, patting Javi's back "I'll just talk to Murphy"

And that was that, Carillo was gone, and Peña was left at a desk at the corner of the room, staring at you with the intensity with which a lion watches a gazelle.

He didn't know what the fuck to do.

To be completely honest with himself, he'd made a fucking mess.

He'd always been attracted to you, I mean there's not much of you that any man could find not hot, and sure, he'd spent about a year flirting with you as you rolled your eyes at him... but that's just how he was- he never thought it'd ever actually happen- and now...

Now he was fucked

You seemed so incredibly normal around him, like that night a week ago had been just a perfect dream, while him- fuck he couldn't even look at you without picturing how perfect you looked from between your tighs.

He'd thought he could manage to just do it that one time, to get it out of his system... what a stupid fucking bastard- he'd only made everything ten times worse.

And the worst part was that you didn't seem affected by it, not even a little bit- like now, there you were, looking all concentrated and everything, your brows furrowed, your bare legs crossed, one of them swinging ever so often, and your lips... your lips wrapped around the candy were an image sent straight from heaven.

Fuck- he was half fucking hard just by looking at you.

He needed to do something- now- or he was gonna go fucking crazy.

__ __ __

"can I have a talk with you for a moment?"

He was leaning over your desk, not doing a great job of masking his desire.

You, on the other hand, hadn't even looked up from the paper before you.

"what's up?"

what's up?

He'd made you squirt on your boss' desk for fuck's sake, and you tell him what's up??

"Just something I think you could help me out with, in the evidence room"

"now?" you winced, finally looking at him

"Yeah now"

__ __ __

"so what is it? did they misplace a file again-"

"How are you acting so normal?"

A gasp fled your mouth as you turned around and found him but an inch from you

"Jesus" you breathed "what are you talking about?"

"and who even eats lollipops past the age of five?"

He took a step closer and you took a step back, only for your back to hit the wall.

He'd cornered you.

"what is going on with you?" you hissed, only for him to take another slow step, and place his hand on the wall, right next to your head

"you, that's what's going on with me" his breath was fanning over your mouth, images of last week's night flashing both your minds "I've had the best sex of my life with you, and you're acting like it was just another Tuesday night"

"I-"

"I can still taste you on my tongue, I can still feel you around me, and you look at me like I'm nothing more than a fucking colleague y/n"

"Javier-"

"And then" he chuckled darkly, interrupting you once again "and then you have the nerve to suck on a fucking lollipop right in front me-"

A soft laugh couldn't help but bubble up your throat at that.

"Did that seriously... turn you on?"

"So what if it did?" he purred, his left hand finding your waist and forcing you off the wall and flush against him, against the blatant proof of his arousal.

You gasped, your hands clutching the shirt covering his chest.

"you're worse than a hormonal teenager"

His eyes sparked with malice as he bent down, his mouth skimming your mouth and cheeks, leaving shivers in his passage, until he pressed his lips right below your ear.

"A hormonal teen that made you squirt for the first time in your life"

"Javier-" your voice had already reduced to a thread of a whimper.

Fuck him and his irresistible sex appeal.

He was right, no one had ever made you feel as good as he had, and as much as he thought you weren't affected by that knowledge, he'd be shocked to find out how difficult it proved not to squirm every time he merely looked at you.

Yes, of course you were constantly thinking about that night too.

"Tell me you don't think about it"

He was like a mind reader

You stayed silent, conscious that any response you could give would inevitably give you away.

"That's what I thought" A snicker rumbled from his chest, his hand moving from your waist to slide underneath the hem of your skirt.

You hummed, your brain only half functioning as he continued to trail hot wet kisses down your throat.

"W-what are you doing?" you tried to speak normally without success.

"what does it look like I'm doing?" he smirked, his hand now fully cupping your clothed core, making you whine "What I've been thinking of doing for a whole damn week- so I don't lose my mind"

Two of his fingers were circling the wet spot on your panties when a phone rang from the other room, making your eyes snap open.

What the fuck were you doing?

You were at work- anyone could come in at any moment.

"Javier wait," you said, finally getting your voice back to normal.

"what is it, sweetheart?" from the way his eyes were still a thousand shades darker and blatantly staring at your mouth you could have guessed the danger of being caught didn't trouble him one bit.

"We can't"

He groaned frustratedly then, his head falling between your neck and shoulder

"why not sweetheart?"

"are you serious?" a quick laugh bubbled up your throat "we're at work"

"so?"

"so?" you parroted, only your voice was heightening with exasperation "so anyone could catch us at any given moment"

A soft smirk pulled at his lips, the hand that was still on your wall going to your waist to get you flush against him

"Are you ashamed of me sweetheart?" he teased

"Well, to be completely honest having sex with the biggest slut in Columbia isn't exactly my highest moment"

He feigned a gasp, his hot breath fanning over your own parted mouth

"Me? A slut?"

"yeah, you" You couldn't fight the smile pulling at your lips.

There he was, doing it again- making all your common sense fly out the window with his godforsaken charm.

"c'mon baby, I'll be quick"

And although you didn't want to, you could see yourself starting to consider his proposal.

"that's supposed to convince me?" you arched a brow, an amused smile pulling at your lips

"What, you think I can't make you come quickly?" he purred, his hand going to your ass in a swift move to grab at it.

You bit down a whine "Well I don't know"

"tell me you don't want it" he teased, the fingers on your core starting a torturous path up and down your still-clothed, but unbelievably drenched, slit "That you don't want this"

His fingers had trespassed your panties and had now found your raw skin, making you gasp

"anyone could come in us, including Messina" you added breathlessly

"I locked the door" he promised, his forehead on yours as his ring and middle finger gently found their way inside of you.

"a-and what if someone needs to get in?" you tried your best not to moan, but the way he curled his fingers made it so very fucking difficult

"then we'll tell them to fuck off" he murmured, his mouth now touching yours, but still not kissing you.

"If we get caught I'm gonna kill you, we clear?"

"yes ma'am" he smirked, his breath mixing with yours

"now- may I kiss you, baby?"

You rolled your eyes before answering "Yes, you may"

And just like that, he was devouring you, his lips crashing with yours and his tongue sliding into your mouth to explore every inch of it, gaining dominance on your own in a matter of seconds.

"fuck I missed this" he groaned, his fingers suddenly speeding up and robbing you of all ability to tease him about his words "these fucking lips are gonna be the death of me"

Your mouth was open as you desperately tried to get oxygen to your lungs, but he didn't care, he took your bottom lip into his mouth and started sucking, his fingers fastening their pace as the filthy sound of your wetness bounced off the walls of the room.

"tell me you thought about it too" he growled, his palm making contact with your clit and forcing you to gasp as your hips started grinding onto it, onto his hand, sparks of pleasure staining your vision. "tell me I'm not the only crazy one baby"

You bit your lip to stifle a moan as you felt yourself grow closer to a release.

"shit- you look so fucking hot when you're about to come"

"I-" your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could feel the heat of his stare on you, the way his eyes never left you, not even as he kissed your neck, the soft stubble of his mustache tickling your skin "I've thought about it too javi"

The satisfied groan he let out told you just about everything you needed to know.

"When?" he asked, his voice hoarse, his fingers relentless

"A-always" you whimpered, "e-everytime I look at you"

shit- maybe you shouldn't have said that

"yeah?" a wolfish grin tugged at his lips "You think about me? about my cock? my fingers? my tongue?"

You mewled at his words, at the memory they brought with them, at how fucking good he was making you feel-

"J-Javi please"

"what?" he breathed, his mouth on yours again, your hips grinding shamelessly onto his hand "You're gonna come baby, 's that it?"

"y-yeah- fuck- I-"

he knew the signs by now, he knew those desperate breathless sounds you made just as you reached your peak- and god did he fucking love them

"come for me- come baby" he murmured, his lips crushing with yours to stifle your moans just as your walls spasmed around his digits- wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body.

Oh how he loved seeing the strong fiery woman he saw every day come apart beneath him, all your walls crumbling down 'till there was just pure lust and pleasure beneath your eyes, 'till your body went limp and clung to him for support.

"fuck" you breathed your eyes finally opening again, only to find that his had never left yours. "I-" you gulped, but his lips were on yours again, his hands holding your face on each side, his fingers now out of you.

"w-we should get back," you said, mostly trying to remind yourself, of where you really were, of what you were really doing... but it was all so difficult when he was looking at you like that- when you could feel his hard cock straining against his jeans- the same one that had felt so fucking good inside of you.

"we should" he agreed, although a twisted grin played on his lips.

he was already kissing you again, exploring you again, and in no time you found yourself caged between him and a shelf filled with boxes of evidence, your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck.

Damn him

"People are gonna start wondering where we are"

"we're here... looking at evidence," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, his hips grinding onto you, his mouth on the corner of your lips.

"fuck- fine," you murmured, the need for him stronger than anything at this point, even than the fear of getting fired.

He didn't waste a second- his dick was out in a heartbeat, and your panties were pulled to the side before you had even time to breathe.

His tip, his red, glistening tip found your entrance, making you gasp.

"c-condom" you suddenly remembered, your voice so feeble it was almost inaudible "Please tell me you've got a condom"

"fuck- you're right" he muttered, frustration tracing his tone "I should have one in my wallet"

Of course he had one in his wallet

His left hand reached into his back pocket, finding his wallet and taking the condom out of it as quickly as he could, throwing the wallet somewhere to the side.

You were supporting yourself all on your own as he rolled the condom onto his dick, which might sound easy... but seeing the state of your leg it really was a miracle.

It was all so fast, he seemed desperate as he guided his tip to your entrance, as he gripped your waist and kissed your lips while entering you.

He was so fucking big, definitely the biggest one you'd ever encountered, and not only that... but he fucking knew how to use it too.

It was impossible not to moan, and for him, it was impossible not to groan- let's just say the possibility of getting caught wasn't first on the list of things in your mind at the moment.

"fuckfuckfuck" you whimpered, letting out a soft cry when he finally bottomed out

"Jesus Christ you feel fucking perfect" he growled, his eyes on yours, his hands gripping your waist as he tried his best to give you a moment to adjust and not start to fuck you like an animal right away.

"J-Javi"

And that, that little plead in your voice was all he needed to hear.

There was no way the sound of your skin slapping with his couldn't be heard from outside.

He felt so fucking good- criminally so.

"oh my g-" you had to bite down on something, and the little sliver of skin his shirt didn't cover right where his shoulder met his neck seemed much too perfect for your need.

He groaned, the bastard fucking groaned in pleasure as your teeth sank down into his skin, and you swore to god you could have come from that sound alone.

Your hands were laced between his neck, fingers taking hold of whatever hair you could grab, as he thrust up into you like a man starved, and you did all you could to meet his movements with the same urgency.

It had only been a week, and yet it felt like it'd been an eternity- a torturous, awful eternity of daying yourself of this.

"been thinking about this every fucking minute this week" his voice was breathy, hoarse, as he whispered to your ear "about this perfect fucking pussy of yours- about your mouth, about how- Fuck me-" his own growl interrupted him, your walls were squeezing him much too fucking tight "how good you taste, how hot you look when I'm eating you out- about this fucking perfect body of yours" he purred "Jesus christ you make me lose my mind"

You couldn't help but moan, moan at his words, at his pace, at the way his touch sent sparks flying in your belly- it was all too much.

"You've gotta be quiet baby" he murmured as you raised your head to look at him, to beg him for something- anything.

"I know sweetheart, I know" he breathed, his lips skimming yours "I know issa lot"

And to think you couldn't even stand him seven days ago... look at you now- looking into his eyes pleadingly as he fucked you in the evidence room.

"Javi" you could only breathe as his mouth crashed with yours once again, "I'm gonna-"

"I know"

Of course he knew

And just like that, you were over the edge, his tongue in your mouth muffling your cries as his thrust got more erratic, and somehow even more powerful.

Once again, he'd given you the best orgasm of your life.

He tried to hold off to let you ride it out, but fuck him it was proving to be real fucking difficult.

And then you opened your eyes- your beautiful, dreamy, eyes that he'd been dreaming of for days and there was no point in fighting it anymore-

"F-fuck y/n- fuck-"

There was a loud thud somewhere behind you, but neither of you cared enough to look, or god forbid stop- there was only you, you, and the spectacular groan Javier fed you into a kiss as he finally reached his climax.

There was only the sound of your breathing, both your heavy breathings as you looked at each other- and then you smiled, and he couldn't help but do the same.

And then all of the sudden the sounds from the office started flowing into the room again.

Oh right

"we really have to get back"

"yeah" he halfheartedly agreed, slowly setting you back on your feet, only in doing so, something caught your eye.

"fuck"

There were files on the floor- there were files on the floor because you'd knocked down some of the boxes of evidence- and you hadn't even noticed.

Javier followed your line of sight, but while panic was setting in your heart, he began to smile

"don't laugh!" you hissed, "what the fuck do we do? How do we explain this?"

"we don't" he simply shrugged, closing his zipper back up as you quickly tried to make yourself presentable.

"What?"

"we were never here- now, get back out there"

"I-"

"trust me" he said, retrieving his wallet from the floor.

And for some fucking reason, you did- you trusted him.

"I hate you so much" you muttered, finally exiting the room.

Tg:@fallout-girl219

[ahgasegotarmy116]

It's Hard to Believe | Jungkook One Shot

Summary: Getting pregnant with your best friend's baby definetly wasn't a part of the plan... Pairing: f!Reader x Jungkook (fwb, f2l) Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: A tiny bit of explicit and suggestive language but nothing crazy a/n: This is something I started writing at like midnight and it's kinda shit but I thought I might as well post it since I haven't posted in a while (Like five days short of a month wtf?!?!? How has it been that long?!?!) (I just barely checked rn lmao my bad 🥲) p.s. I kinda wanna do a full on series on a concept like this but it'll be different and less fluffy but that won't be happening for a long ass time but yeah lol Requested by a lovely anon 💜

"How am I supposed to tell him?" I ask my friend Sam for the millionth time since I found out. "Y/n just tell him. You guys have been friends for how long?" she asks and it's like I'm having deja vu from both of our responses. "Like ten years" I mumble and pull my sweatshirt sleeves down over my hands in an effort to stop my nervous fiddling but it only makes it worse. 

"Right and you guys have been messing around with each other for over a year now, maybe even more...I don't wanna know" she says while holding her hand up in a way to assure me that she doesn't need the details. "Just tell him. If he's as great of a guy as you keep on telling me he is then I promise everything will be okay" she says and places a hand on my shoulder before she gets up off my couch. 

"Where are you going?" I ask while she shrugs on her jacket. "Didn't you say he's supposed to be here around five?" she asks and I nod my head, checking the clock and seeing that it's already 4:30. 

"Yeah...are you sure you don't wanna stay and say hi?" I ask and she glares at me. "Let me know what his response is to that bun in the oven and then we'll talk. I wanna figure out if he's an asshole or not before I decide to waste anytime on him" she says while lacing up her shoes. 

"Promise me you'll tell him tonight?" she asks and lifts up her hood, getting ready to shield herself from the pouring rain outside. I nod my head reluctantly, that being way more progress than I've made for the past few weeks since I found out. "I promise" I utter under my breath and she smiles, pulling me in for a bone crushing hug. 

"Text me if you need me" she says, worried for what might happen but hoping for the best. "I will...thanks" I whisper and she nods her head before walking out of my door and turning slightly and waving to offer me one last farewell.

I close the door after I see her get into her car and lean my back up against it, steadying myself for a second and taking deep breaths, trying to stop my racing heartbeat before pushing off of it and tidying up before Jungkook gets here to distract myself. 

Sam has been the only one I've been able to count on and honestly the only person I can trust since I haven't told anyone else. She was the one I called when I missed my period and she's the one who brought me a pregnancy test...and then when out and bought me ten more because I couldn't actually grasp the concept that I was pregnant...am pregnant.

Jungkook and I have always been careful and taken all the necessary steps to keep this from happening but I guess we got careless this time. 

Through out this whole arrangement we've made it very clear to each other that we're not sleeping with anyone else but neither of us are looking for any sort of commitment either so that's why this has gone on for so long. 

Like it or not though we're going to be committed to each other in one way or another no matter what because I'm keeping this baby. No matter what he says I'm keeping them. 

Jungkook is my best friend, the one person who has been there for me through everything. He's seen me at all of my highest highs and especially at my lowest lows and no matter what he's never made me feel shitty about it. I know he's not the kind of guy that'll turn on you because of something like this but I can't help but still feel terrified. 

This wasn't supposed to happen but even if this child wasn't made with love from his side...it was made with love from mine. 

I don't know how long it's been since I fell in love with him but I know I shouldn't have said yes to this whole fuck buddy ordeal. I just couldn't stand the thought of him being with someone else so when he offered up the idea I said yes.

I figured that if this was a way to prevent him from getting his heart broken by all those sorry excuses of girlfriends he's had in the past then I guess I'll be okay with breaking mine.

He's been acting different lately though. He's been a lot touchier, asking to come over more often, going out of his way to help me with things, offering to feed me all the time and all of it is making me feel like he already knows. 

Does he know? Have I started showing already? I haven't really noticed a difference in my body yet but he looks at me naked a lot more often than I pay attention to myself naked so I mean I guess he could've noticed right? 

Only one way to find out though...

A half an hour later I hear him take out his keys and unlock my door and soon I'm greeted with a smile that tugs at my heartstrings. 

"Hi baby" he says, using that pet name he's become very fond of since this whole ordeal started. The sound of it after finding out I'm pregnant with his baby has made me a little uncomfortable though since I haven't told him yet. 

Don't get me wrong I love it when he calls me that but I can't help but think that if this goes south that he won't ever call me that again. 

Maybe the hormones have started to scramble my brain already because those uncomfortable feelings are quickly thrown away when I take in the sight of him after he shrugs off his rain coat. A simple black baggy hoodie and jeans engulf his form and the comfy sight just makes me want to curl up in bed with him and forget about everything and everyone.

Just him and I, it's always been him and I. I just don't know if this little one is going to change things. 

I place a hand on my stomach for a second as a way to gain some strength from my itty bitty baby before finally working up the courage to greet him.

"Hi" I greet him softly, walking over to where he's stopped to take off his shoes and when he looks back up at me he smiles again and kisses me. I sigh into it, savoring it for just a little bit longer and when it finally breaks he looks down at me with concern now written all over his face. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, sensing that something's off right away from the just the small change in the way I kissed him. I hesitate for a second then simply hold out my hand for him to take and he does, following behind me as I lead him over to my couch. 

Getting this over with sooner rather than later is my best option right now so there's no reason to delay. 

He needs to know, he deserves to know.

We sit there in silence, longer than he would like us to since I can tell how tense his body has gotten in a matter of minutes. "Y/n you're scaring me" he whispers, not wanting to pressure me but relaying his feelings. 

I take a couple more deep breaths before finally starting. "I need you to listen to me and I need you to please not speak until I'm finished" I say while looking down at my lap, not being able to meet his eyes. 

He murmurs a soft 'okay' and waits for me to continue, taking one of my hands and placing it in his lap. He needs some form of physical contact to keep him grounded since he's not too sure what to expect and I let him, knowing I need some reassurance too. 

Even if I don't know what his reaction is gonna be, in this moment I need it more than ever.

"I guess there's really no right way to go about saying this because this wasn't supposed to happen so I'm just gonna come out and say it..." I start off and he squeezes my hand, encouraging me to keep going. 

"I missed my period...over a month ago...and I haven't had it since then" I say and finally look up at him where he has an unsure expression. It's not one that's mad or disappointed with what I've said thus far which is a good thing but more like he's trying hard to hold himself back so he can keep that promise. 

His hold on my hand hasn't loosened, in fact it's gotten even tighter and that gives me hope that we'll work this out so I take another deep breath before continuing. 

"I tried to kid myself into thinking that it was late but when another week passed by I got nervous. I asked Sam to get me a test and it came out positive. I didn't believe it and thought it was a false positive and so to ease my mind she went a bought ten more from a bunch of different brands and...all of them came out positive" I say and he still looks at me with that same expression, waiting for me to give him the okay to speak and so I do. 

"How long have you known?" are the first words out of his mouth and although they're not negative they aren't necessarily positive either. "About a month now" I say and he nods his head, taking another second or two to formulate what he's gonna say next. 

"I'll support you no matter what you decide" he says and I let out a breath I didn't even know I had been holding in. "I wanna keep it" I say and he nods his head and smiles softly at first and then as the seconds go by it gets wider and wider making my heart beat faster. 

"Am I allowed to get excited now?" he whispers and I can't help but chuckle as tears start to prickle my eyes and give him a nod. "You're excited?" I say, my whole being slowly overcome with emotion. 

"How could I not be?" he scoffs playfully but that answer has me confused. "But Jungkook we're not together. I mean we're not in a relationship, we're just friends" I explain and there's a playful glint in his eyes after I say that that's making me even more nervous.

"You wanna know what I thought you were gonna tell me?" he offers up, slightly changing topics but I look at him in a way to urge him to continue. "I thought you were gonna break up with me" he says and I smile, "Jungkook we're not together. How could I break up with you?" I chuckle in disbelief. 

"Correction, I thought you were gonna break up with me before I even got the chance to ask you to be my girlfriend" he says with a grin and my jaw drops, the dots all connecting as to why he's been acting so different lately. "You were gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?" I utter quietly as if we were in a crowed room and I had a secret for just the two of us.

"I had actually planned on asking you tonight" he explains, walking over to where he had placed his backpack on the floor, taking out a bouquet of slightly squished flowers. "Sorry they're all beat up. I forgot and rode my bike over here so I didn't really have any other option but to put them in there" he says almost as if he was nervous, rubbing the back of his neck and it's then that I notice how pink his ears have gotten. 

He is��nervous

I take them from him and smile, waiting for him to say it but he simply stands there and admires me and I can't help but laugh. "What so funny? I told you what happened to them" he utters through pouty lips which only makes me laugh more. "No, no it's not the flowers it's just that...don't you have something to say?" I ask, calming down my chuckles and when he looks at me with the same confused expression I have to try my hardest to keep the laughter at bay. 

"Do you have something you would like to ask me Jungkook" I rephrase it and after a second his lips go from a pout to the shape of an 'O' as he's figured it out. "Oh um, yeah, right. Well I um" he starts off, rubbing the back of his neck again while stuttering and trying to find the words and after struggling for a second I decide to poke fun at him again. 

"Jungkook I am literally carrying your child and you're too afraid to ask me to be your girlfriend?" I laugh, giving him a slight reality check which he scoffs at before responding. 

"I was trying to remember what I had rehearsed to say to you but now that you're being a little brat I guess you'll never get to know all the nice things I was gonna say" he retorts, his voice suddenly taking on a darker tone that sends a shiver through my body and he smirks when he sees my reaction to it. 

He cups my face and rubs his thumb along my bottom lip, making them part and he leans in as if he was going to kiss me but stops just shy of my lips. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he whispers, nudging his nose against mine and making me smile. 

"I'll have to think about that" I play coy with him which he chuckles at. "You know if you weren't pregnant right now I would have thrown you over my lap for that smart mouth" he warns and I smile before leaning in and kissing him for just a second before pulling back. 

"Yes I'll be your girlfriend" I say and nudge my nose against his as well and before I can register it my back is on the couch and his lips are pressed against mine, the kiss not rushed but full of so many words that have yet to be said and he gives in, not being able to hold it in anymore.

"I love you" he says, pulling back and looking down at me to see my expression which is completely dumbfounded to say the least. "You what?" I ask and he chuckles, "Is it really that hard to believe?" he points out and I guess now that I think about it it really isn't.

"I guess we've both been in love with each other for a while now huh?" I smile and his eyes light up at my round about confession. "Say it" he says, and I can feel my cheeks heating up. I hadn't planned on actually saying those three words to him even though I've felt them for so long but I don't want to hold them back anymore. 

"I love you" I whisper and he smiles, "Say it again" he repeats, clearly not believing it just yet. "I love you Jungkook" I say and the little switch up with attaching his name to the end darkens his gaze. "I guess there's no chance in me getting you pregnant a second time right now huh?" he asks, sliding his hand up my thigh and I giggle. 

"No I think that's pretty much impossible but the odds are never zero" I say and he rolls his eyes. "I'm trying to tell you that I wanna hit it raw" he states the obvious while rolling his eyes. "I know I know...and the answer is yes Daddy" I tease, testing to see how that word affects him now that he knows.

He tongues his cheek at that making me bite my lip, knowing that's gonna be even more of a trigger word for him from now on. "Daddy huh? Well I guess that title is a little more fitting now isn't it?" 

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[buckets-and-trees]

Mob Bucky respects your own financial independence, but he also made sure you have access to his black card and use it when you need it. He doesn't care what you spend the money on, especially since the notification he gets those very rare times that you use his money is to buy something most practical or for your shared apartment.

However, he does not expect to see a notification for the purchase of some sex toys 😏

CHOCOLATE

Collection: DEVOUR Characters/Pairings: Mob Boss!James Buchanan Barnes x Female!Chef!Reader Word Count: 5.6k Timeline: Takes place 1-2 weeks after mint, 2-3 weeks after heat.

Content & Warnings: EXPLICIT SMUT - vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, creampie, food play, breeding kink. Feelings, so many feelings.

Author Notes: Surprise! At some points during the 2200 Followers Celebration poll, Devour Bucky and Chef were actually winning, so here's something I started months and months ago and brought out to finish for them. It's not quite everything from your ask, Eva, but I hope it's a satisfying scenario all the same...

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You had known the exact moment your fiancé – mob boss, venture capitalist, or philanthropist depending on who you asked and what they knew – got the notification of your purchase.

James Buchanan Barnes had given you a black card weeks ago, before the engagement, but you hadn’t used it until this week. Bucky had gone to Chicago for business (and you were sure he was there for business as well), and instead of staying home and pining away for him, you decided to treat yourself. The notification must have pinged his phone during a meeting, because exactly 47 minutes later, your own phone lit up with his name.

"What's this Cartier expense I see?" his voice a dangerous mix of amusement and curiosity.

You swallowed hard, fingering the velvet box in your lap. "Just a little shopping therapy while you're away. Nothing to worry about."

"Mmm," he hummed, unconvinced. "And here I thought I was the one who was supposed to shower you with gifts."

"Well," you said, "maybe I wanted to surprise you for once."

There was a pause, and you could almost see him leaning back in his chair, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "I suppose I am a little surprised you finally used the card. But how about a challenge?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you see if you can shock me with a purchase?”

“Challenge accepted. What do I get?”

He chuckled. “You already know I’ll give you the world.”

Butterflies surged in your stomach. This man.

“You’re back Saturday afternoon?” you confirmed.

“Yes,” he growled. “There’s a round of golf I can’t seem to move or negotiate.”

You sighed softly. “It’s only three more days.”

“I like that you miss me.”

You huffed but couldn’t deny it.

“I’m missing you, too,” he said.

“James…” you breathed.

“Did you get the gift I sent?”

“I did.” A stunning, six-foot mirror with an ornate, gold-gilded frame had been delivered that morning to your apartment and placed in your bedroom.

“I was taken with how beautiful it was and you were my first thought.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “I love you,” you said.

“I love you, too. I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

When you woke up Friday morning, you knew exactly how to shock him with the black card.

Or at least tease him.

The high-end, ridiculously expensive lingerie boutique you never thought you would enter in your lifetime - Boudoir.

The response to that expense notification was immediate, and you smirked when you read the text that came through.

JAMES: You have my interest piqued.

You thought for a moment, then typed out a reply.

YOU: Thought maybe I’d see if I can shock you and send some photos of what I got later tonight.

Three dots appeared straight away, and then

JAMES: Forget photos, I’ll fly out tonight straight away after my meeting with Levinson and come straight to you.

Your breath caught in your throat, heart swelling with adoration, anticipation, and maybe just a touch of nerves. You looked up the latest flights out of Chicago, and couldn’t help feeling a little forlorn. Even though the restaurant head chef life meant late nights for work, it would still be an ungodly hour when he landed.

YOU: I’ll try to stay up, but promise to wake me up if I’m asleep?

Again, you didn't have to wait long for his reply.

JAMES: I promise. Nothing could keep me from you tonight.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words. You glanced at the clock - it was barely noon. The hours until his arrival stretched before you, filled with anticipation and nervous energy. You busied yourself with things before work, trying to focus on anything other than the ticking clock and the bag from Boudoir sitting in your closet.

At Devour your mind was engaged fully in your craft and working with your team.

But once you returned home after the Friday night dinner service, you found yourself pacing the apartment, unable to settle. Should you put on the lingerie now? Wait until you heard from him? You compromised by showering and doing your hair and makeup, then slipping into a silky robe.

Just as you were debating whether to pour yourself a glass of wine to calm your nerves, your phone pinged.

JAMES: Landed. On my way to you.

Far earlier than you expected him, but a good thing, too.

Your heart raced as you read his message. You quickly made your way to the bedroom, retrieving the Boudoir bag from the closet with trembling hands. The delicate lace and silk felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the lingerie, adjusting the straps and garters with care. You stood before the new mirror James had sent, admiring how the deep, rich color complemented your skin tone. The set hugged your curves in all the right places. Standing before the mirror James had gifted you, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of confidence.

A text alert broke your reverie.

JAMES: Five minutes.

You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the silky fabric once more before draping the robe back over your shoulders. You dimmed the lights in the bedroom and lit a few candles, creating a soft, inviting ambiance.

The sound of a key in the lock made your pulse quicken. You perched on the edge of the bed, listening as Bucky’s footsteps approached.

The bedroom door opened slowly, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. His gaze was intense, a mix of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Would you ever get used to the way he looked at you?

"Well," he said, his voice low and gravelly, "this is certainly a welcome home."

You stood, your fingers toying with the tie of your robe. "I thought you might appreciate a little preview of my shopping spree."

He set a golden box on your dresser and then moved closer, his steps deliberate and predatory. He reached out, running his fingers along the edge of your robe. "May I?"

You nodded, your heart racing as he slowly undid the tie and pushed the silky fabric off your shoulders. The robe pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in the exquisite lingerie.

Bucky inhaled sharply, his eyes roaming over every inch of you. "Beautiful.” His hands settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Show me how much you missed me," he growled.

You leaned into him, tilting your head up to meet his intense gaze. "I thought you were going to show me how much you missed me," you teased, running your hands up his chest and over his shoulders.

He chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Oh, I intend to," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. "But first, I want to savor this moment. You've outdone yourself."

His hands roamed over the delicate lace and silk, tracing the curves of your body with a reverence that made your breath hitch. You could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt, the barely contained power in his muscles as he held you close.

“I thought you wouldn’t be here until much, much later,” you said, breathing in the scent of him, cologne mingled with his natural musk. “The flights I saw had landings after midnight.”

He snorted. “My private jet provides service according to my schedule, not anyone else’s.”

“Oh,” was your soft and surprised reaction, realizing you should not be at all surprised to learn he owned a private jet.

"Turn around, love," he commanded softly. "Let me see all of you."

You complied, slowly spinning to face the mirror. He stood behind you, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. His hands skimmed down your sides, fingertips tracing the lace edges of your lingerie. You shivered at his touch, watching as his expression darkened with desire.

"Do you see how stunning you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How every curve, every line of your body is a work of art?"

You leaned back against his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him. "I see how you look at me," you whispered. "That's what makes me feel beautiful."

You watched in the mirror as his lips trailed up your neck, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin. Your breath quickened as one of his hands splayed across your stomach, pulling you back against him.

He growled low in his throat, his arms tightening around you. "You still have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice rough with need. His fingers traced the edge of the lace at your hip.

You turned in his arms, reaching up to cup his face. "Then show me," you challenged, your eyes locked on his.

Impossibly, his eyes darkened even more at your words, a predatory smile curving his lips. In one fluid motion, he lifted you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. His lips crashed against yours in a searing kiss as he carried you to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness.

"You want me to show you?" he growled, hovering over you. His fingers traced the delicate straps of your lingerie, sending shivers across your skin. "I'll show you exactly what you do to me."

He began a torturous exploration of your body, his lips and hands mapping every inch of you. The exquisite lingerie became both a barrier and a tantalizing tease as Bucky lavished attention on the exposed skin while skimming over the lace and silk. You arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"James," you breathed, your fingers threading through his hair. "Please…"

He chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure through you. "Patience, love. I've been dreaming of you all week."

His talented fingers deftly unclasped the delicate hooks of your bra, slowly peeling the lace away to reveal your skin beneath. You gasped as the cool air hit your heated flesh, arching into his touch as he palmed your breasts.

"Beautiful," he murmured, lowering his head to trail kisses along your collarbone. "So fucking beautiful."

You tugged at his shirt, suddenly desperate to feel his skin against yours. "Too many clothes," you panted, fumbling with the buttons.

Bucky chuckled, sitting back on his heels to shrug off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. Your eyes roamed hungrily over his sculpted torso as more of his skin was revealed. The dim candlelight cast shadows that accentuated every plane and angle of his muscular form.

"Like what you see?" he teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Always," you breathed, reaching up to run your hands over his chest and shoulders.

He caught your wrists gently, pinning them above your head as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You melted into his kiss, your body arching up to meet his as he pressed you into the mattress. The weight of him, the heat of his skin against yours, was intoxicating. You tugged at his grip on your wrists, desperate to touch him, but he held firm.

"Ah ah," he murmured against your lips. "I'm not done admiring my gift yet."

His free hand skimmed down your side, fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. You whimpered, hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you.

"James, please," you gasped, breaking away from the kiss.

He chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down your spine. "So impatient," he tsked, nipping at your lower lip. "But I suppose I have kept you waiting all week, haven't I?"

In one fluid motion, he released your wrists and moved down your body. His lips and tongue traced a burning path along your skin, pausing to lavish attention on your breasts before continuing lower.

With deft movements, he removed the rest of your lingerie, his eyes dark with hunger as he drank in the sight of you. You reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle in your eagerness. Bucky chuckled, gently moving your hands aside to finish undressing himself.

Finally skin to skin, you both sighed at the contact. Bucky's weight settled over you, comforting and electrifying all at once. His lips found yours again as he entered you slowly, savoring every inch. You gasped against his mouth, your body arching to take him deeper.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky growled, his forehead pressed against yours as he stilled for a moment.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him closer. "Show me," you breathed, nails raking down his back.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Bucky began to move, setting a rhythm that had you clinging to him, gasping his name. His lips found your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin there as his hips drove into yours.

You lost yourself in the sensations - the slide of his skin against yours, the delicious friction where your bodies joined, the heat of his breath on your neck. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the flex and ripple of his muscles as he moved above you.

"James," you moaned, feeling the familiar tension building low in your belly. "I'm close."

Bucky slowed his movements, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "I'm not done with you."

With a low growl, he suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping at the loss. Before you could protest, his strong hands grasped your hips and flipped you onto your stomach.

His palms glided down your sides, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine. You shivered at his touch, anticipation building as he gently urged your hips upward.

"On your knees for me, beautiful," he commanded softly, his palms smoothing over the swell of your backside.

You complied eagerly, pushing yourself up onto all fours. The cool air of the room kissed your heated skin, making you hyper-aware of every sensation. Bucky's hands continued their journey, kneading the flesh of your thighs and hips with intent appreciation.

You felt the bed shift as he positioned himself behind you, the heat of his body radiating against your back. His fingers tangled in your hair, gently tugging your head back. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke.

"You're a vision like this," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So perfect for me."

You whimpered, pressing back against him, desperate for more contact. Bucky chuckled, the sound vibrating through your body. Slowly, torturously, he dragged the tip of his length along your folds, teasing your clit with the blunt head of his cock.

You gasped at the sensation, your fingers curling into the sheets. "James, please," you whimpered, pushing back against him.

He groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. "So eager for me," he murmured, positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me what you want."

"You," you breathed, looking back over your shoulder to meet his intense gaze. "I want you, James. Please."

With a low growl, he pushed into you in one smooth thrust, filling you completely. You both moaned at the sensation, savoring the feeling of being joined once again. Bucky stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against your back as he struggled to maintain control.

"God, you feel amazing," he groaned, pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. "So tight, so wet, so warm and perfect for me."

He began to move, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had you gasping with each thrust. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor you as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's hands roamed your body, caressing and squeezing, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

"Look,” he said, and turned your head to take in the sight of you two in the mirror.

You locked your eyes on his through the reflection. “Need you to see how gorgeous you are when you come apart for me.”

You keened for him as he pulled you back on his cock with a particularly demanding thrust.

“When I breed you.”

You gasped.

He groaned and curled his body down over your back.

Because you also clenched powerfully around his cock.

“Mmm, you like that,” he murmured right into your ear, then licked the shell of it. “Want to be bred,” he continued, pace unyielding as he split you open with his cock. “Not as much as I want to fill you up with my seed,” another thrust, “until you’re growing with my child,” another thrust, “no question who you belong to,” thrust, “that you’re claimed,” thrust, “that you’re mine.”

You were utterly breathless for a moment, and he registered that, too, just as he registers every movement, every reaction.

He continued to thrust slowly in and out of your leaking cunt, but he noticed you were no longer fluid and pliant, but that you had tensed up. He stopped. “What’s going on in your beautiful head?”

You bit your lip, and your head dropped down, turning away from his direct gaze in the mirror.

He pulled out and laid on his side next to you.

“Talk to me,” he said, and you weren’t sure if this tone was commanding or pleading, but it was certainly serious.

You sat up, folded your hands in your lap and took a deep breath. As steadily as you could, you said, “You knew my measurements and had sent a perfect wardrobe of intimates to me withing twenty-four hours of our first encounter.”

He nodded, his lips quirking up at the corner.

“So, I assume you also know I have an IUD, and that you that knew before you fucked me in the kitchen that first night at the restaurant.”

“Yes,” he confirmed.

“I’m nowhere near ready to think about children.”

He leaned up on one elbow and reached for your hands, smoothing his thumb back and forth over your knuckles. “We have as much time to think about that as you want.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your eyes searched his. You could see he wasn’t merely trying to tell you what you wanted to hear - he never had.  

“I look forward to children with you one day, but I’m in no rush. When I imagined settling down with a wife,” he continued, “I didn’t think it would be for another five or six years, but once I found you, there was no question that I wanted you.”

"I want that future with you too, just... not quite yet."

Bucky sat up, cupping your face in his hands. His thumbs stroked your cheeks gently as he looked into your eyes. "I'm sorry if I scared you," he said, his voice low and sincere. "Sometimes I get carried away in the moment. You inspire that in me. But I never want you to feel uncomfortable or trapped.”

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, your body relaxing as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, leaning into his touch. "I didn't mean to kill the mood."

Bucky shook his head, pulling you closer. "Don't apologize. Communication is important, especially about something like this." His fingers traced soothing patterns on your skin.

You nodded, feeling a surge of warmth and affection for this man who could be so commanding and intense one moment, and so tender and understanding the next. "I love you," you said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

Bucky responded eagerly, his arms wrapping around you as he deepened the kiss. When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, he rested his forehead against yours. "I love you too," he murmured. "More than I ever thought possible."

His hands began to roam your body again, easily reigniting the need in both of your for each other.

You broke off the kiss briefly, "Just so we're clearly communicating, breeding kink? Yes. Children yet? No."

"Noted," he laughed, and returned to devouring your lips.

Bucky shifted his position from sitting to kneeling, settling back on his heels, then with one fluid motion he turned you and pulled you into his lap with your thighs falling on either side of his into a wide, kneeling position. He lifted your hips, then lined up his cock with your entrance, and brought you down again on his length. He guided your hips until you were impaled all the way down. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, drawing a low moan from your lips.

He banded his left arm around your torso, and his right hand smoothed up your sternum, between your breasts, coming to rest in a secure hold on your shoulder. You closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feel of him inside you, behind you, right at your back, every inch of your bodies pressed together. Your left hand traced over his forearm, then tangled with his fingers around your waist, your other hand moving back to anchor yourself on his hip. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder, then began thrusting. Each thrust seemed to push a deep moan out of you for him, and you didn’t hold back.

"Open your eyes," he commanded softly, his breath hot against your ear. "Look at us."

You obeyed, your gaze meeting his in the reflection of the mirror. The sight before you was breathtaking. Bucky sat tall and powerful behind you, his muscular thighs flexed as he supported your weight. Your body was on full display, skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His thick arm across your stomach, holding you close against his chest.

"Do you see how beautiful you are?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck. "How perfectly you fit with me?"

You watched in the mirror as one of his hands slowly trailed up your body, cupping your breast and teasing the sensitive peak. Your back arched at his touch, pressing you further onto his cock.

Bucky groaned, his hips bucking upwards involuntarily. "That's it," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "Feel me inside you."

Entranced by his words and the intoxicating view in the mirror, you began to move. You rolled your hips, grinding down onto him in a slow, sensual rhythm. Bucky's hands guided your movements, his fingers digging into your flesh as he helped you ride him.

You watched in fascination as your bodies moved together, mesmerized by the play of muscles beneath Bucky's skin and the way your own body responded to his touch. The sight of him disappearing inside you with each downward motion was almost too much to bear.

"James," you gasped, your head falling back onto his shoulder as the pleasure built. "Oh god, James..."

“No,” he growled, and his hand went up to your neck, taking you by the throat, not aggressive, but commanding, making it clear that he wanted you to keep looking in the mirror. “I won’t let you fucking miss this.”

It occurred to you then that this handsome, audacious bastard, the fiancé who you’d given your heart to, knew exactly what he wanted when he sent you this mirror and had it placed in the exact spot in front of you now.

He wanted this.

He wanted to see this and have you see this. The debauchery and the devotion while the two of you were intimate together.

Your eyes locked with his in the mirror, the intensity of his gaze pushing you even closer to the brink. You watched as his free hand slid down your body, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. The dual stimulation of his cock inside you and his fingers on your most sensitive area becoming more frantic. Bucky's grip on your hips tightened, guiding you into a faster pace.

"That's it, love," he growled, his voice low and husky in your ear. "Let go for me. I want to see you come undone."

His words, combined with the intense sensations and the erotic sight in the mirror, and touch pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky held you tightly against him, his hips still moving as he worked you through your orgasm.

"Beautiful," he murmured, pressing kisses along your shoulder and neck. "So fucking beautiful."

As the aftershocks subsided, Bucky gently turned you in his lap so you were facing him. His hands cupped your face, drawing you in for a deep, passionate kiss. You could feel him still hard inside you, and you rocked your hips, drawing a groan from his lips.

"Your turn," you whispered, nipping at his lower lip.

With a growl, Bucky flipped you onto your back, hovering over you with a predatory gleam in his eyes. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, changing the angle as he began to thrust into you with renewed vigor.

You gasped at the deeper penetration, your hands clutching at his back as he sunk into you. The room filled with the sounds of your moans, heavy breaths, and the slap of skin on skin.

You reached up, pulling him down for a passionate kiss while he worked up to a relentless pace. He drove into you with powerful thrusts, each one pushing the air from your lungs. Your other leg wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper as you felt another orgasm building.

"James," you panted, your nails raking down his back, "I'm so close again."

He growled, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. "My good girl, I’ll always give you what you need."

His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your oversensitive clit. The added stimulation was almost too much, pushing you right to the edge. You cried out, your body arching off the bed as your second orgasm crashed over you.

Bucky's rhythm faltered as your walls clenched around him. With a deep groan, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his body shuddering as he found his own release. You felt the warmth of his seed spilling inside you, prolonging your own pleasure.

For a moment, you both lay there, panting and trembling in the aftermath. Bucky's weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as you floated in post-orgasmic bliss. He pressed soft kisses to your neck and shoulder, murmuring words of love and praise against your skin.

Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were tucked against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and feeling utterly content.

"I love you," you murmured, pressing a soft kiss to his collarbone.

Bucky's hand stroked up and down your back, his touch soothing and gentle. "I love you too," he replied, his voice deep and warm. "More than I thought possible."

You hummed in agreement, nuzzling into the crook of his neck. The room was quiet save for the sound of your breathing and the faint flicker of the candles.

After a few moments, Bucky spoke again, his voice soft. "I meant what I said earlier. About children, about our future. We have all the time in the world."

You lifted your head to meet his gaze, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "I know," you said, leaning in to kiss him gently. "Thank you for understanding."

He smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Always. We're partners in this, in everything."

You lay in comfortable silence again for a while, basking in the afterglow and each other's presence. Bucky's fingers idly traced patterns on your skin, sending pleasant shivers down your spine.

"I missed this," you said softly, breaking the silence. "Having you here, holding me." Everything with him was still relatively so new, but it felt like this was exactly how it always should be.

He hummed in agreement, tightening his arms around you. "Me too. Those nights in Chicago felt endless without you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, a small smile playing on your lips. "Well, you're home now. And you brought me another present, didn’t you?”

“Oh, you noticed that golden box I brought in with me, did you?”

“Yes, can I have it, please?” you asked sweetly, your curiosity thrumming more with each second now that you had remembered it.

He chuckled at your eagerness, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly disentangling himself from your embrace. "Alright, love. Your wish is my command."

You watched appreciatively as he padded across the room, admiring the play of muscles beneath his skin. He retrieved the golden box from the dresser and returned to the bed, settling beside you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Close your eyes," he instructed softly, and you complied, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

You heard the rustle of paper and the soft click of a box opening. A moment later, an intoxicating aroma filled the air - rich, complex, with notes of cocoa, vanilla, and something tantalizingly exotic.

"Open," Bucky murmured.

Parting your lips, you allowed him to place a morsel of chocolate in your mouth.

The chocolate melted slowly on your tongue, releasing layers of flavor that made you moan softly in delight. Rich, dark cocoa mingled with hints of caramel and a subtle spiciness that lingered pleasantly. As the last of it dissolved, you opened your eyes to find Bucky watching you intently, his gaze dark with renewed desire.

"Good?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, licking your lips. "Incredible. What is it?"

He smiled, holding up an elegantly crafted golden box. "Amedei Porcelana. Some of the rarest and most expensive chocolate in the world. I had it flown in from Tuscany."

Your eyes widened. "James, that must have cost a fortune."

He shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "What's the point of having money if I can't spoil my beautiful fiancée?" His fingers traced along your jawline. "Besides, watching you enjoy it is worth every penny."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words and the intensity of his gaze. Bucky leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. The lingering taste of chocolate on your tongue mingled with his unique flavor, creating an intoxicating blend. His hand cupped the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss.

When you finally parted, both slightly breathless, Bucky rested his forehead against yours. "I think I might enjoy that chocolate even more when I taste it on your lips," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You smiled, reaching for the box. "Well, we have plenty more to sample. Maybe we should conduct a thorough taste test?"

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "I like the way you think, chef."

He took the box from your hands, selecting another piece of chocolate. This time, instead of feeding it to you, he placed it between his teeth, raising an eyebrow in challenge. You leaned in, capturing the other half of the chocolate with your lips, your mouths meeting in a sweet, decadent kiss.

As the night wore on, you continued your playful exploration, alternating between savoring the exquisite chocolate and indulging in each other. Bucky trailed pieces along your skin, following the path with his lips and tongue. You reciprocated, drawing patterns on his sculpted chest and abs with melted chocolate before licking it clean.

The room filled with soft sighs, quiet laughter, and murmured words of affection as you rediscovered each other's bodies. The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over your intertwined forms, creating an intimate cocoon that seemed to exist outside of time.

As dawn approached, you lay tangled together, satiated and drowsy. Bucky's fingers traced lazy patterns on your back as you rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"I could get used to welcomes like this," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hummed contentedly, nuzzling closer. "Maybe I should send you away more often if this is how you come back to me."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Don't you dare. I much prefer having you by my side every day."

You smiled, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "Me too," you admitted softly. "Though I have to say, absence does make the heart grow fonder."

"And apparently inspires some very creative shopping," he teased, his hand skimming down your side to rest on your hip.

You laughed, a warm, carefree sound that filled the room. "Well, I had to make sure you'd remember me while you were away."

"Impossible," Bucky murmured, his voice taking on a more serious tone. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, his touch feather-light but ardent. "You're etched into every part of me now, love."

The intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. Even after hours of intimacy, he still had the power to make your heart race with just a look. You leaned in, capturing his lips in a tender kiss that spoke volumes of your shared feelings.

As you parted, you noticed the first rays of dawn peeking in through the curtains of your window. You settled your head against his shoulder, and only just registered the press of his lips in a kiss to your forehead before you dropped off to sleep in his arms in the morning light, thoroughly exhausted and thoroughly in love with this man.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

Read more in the DEVOUR collection...

Some of this was content I cut from the final chapter of the original 4-parts of the series (heat) that once I got to the end of that chapter felt like it didn't fit anymore, but it was stuff I couldn't throw away, so I just kept it, knowing it would have a place at some point in their story later, so I'm glad I finally got to share it with you!

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝕊𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟛 – 𝕋𝕨𝕚𝕟 ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕔

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

Part 1 𝜗𝜚 Part 2

𝙲𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝙱𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙱𝚞𝚣𝚣𝙲𝚞𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙶𝙵!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Warning: language, pet names, kissing, angst, accidental cheating, manipulation, cheating, skype sex, sex toys, mutual masterbation, mentions of a sex tape, swearing, degredation, dom!rafe, multiple orgasms, overstim., brief oral (fem. receiving), Cam takes the toy and starts using it on her, he also performs brief oral without verbal constant

📖 After meeting Rafe's (CurtainBangs!) twin brother Cam (BuzzCut!) for the first time, Rafe gives you a proposal you can't help but accept: sharing you. What Rafe didn't expect was his jealousy… And what you didn't expect was a text from Cam a week later wanting to see you again.

Reader’s POV:

The text from Cam sat there staring at you. Miss me? ‘Cause I need you princess.’ Those words carry the weight of everything you hadn’t even gotten to process yet. You pace the apartment, thinking about the next steps, your thoughts battling—looping on an endless cycle. Cam’s text wasn’t just a message… That was an invitation.

Rafe told you the night was supposed to mean nothing, but it meant an awful lot. It was supposed to be something fun, maybe a one-time thing… Something Rafe said he had done in the past, but something had changed when it came to you. There were feelings there far beyond anything he had felt before. Now you’re left standing in the aftermath a week later, feeling like the ground is shifting underneath you.

Cam is Rafe’s brother… His fucking twin. Someone he trusts–someone he brought into your life without hesitation. But to you, Cam wasn’t just Rafe’s brother anymore. That night created something new between you that you didn’t think you could handle…

Grabbing your phone, you sit on the couch, fingers hovering over the keyboard.

You: Okay.

The word stares back at you… Simple, but heavy. Sending this message without talking to Rafe first… what am I thinking? But, in a way, it wasn’t just you and Rafe anymore. Rafe had opened that door… And you weren’t ready to close it.

I can’t. You toss your phone down on the couch cushion beside you, heart banging in your chest. Walking to your room, you gather your things, desperately needing to get out of the house and clear your mind. Maybe time is exactly what I need; you think to yourself as you grab your keys and head toward the door.

You bite your lips, guilt creeping in as you come to terms with the fact that Cam is Rafe’s brother… If I don't say anything at all, he’d come regardless. Rafe takes what he wants, and he doesn’t go down with a fight. Hopefully, that runs in the family.

You look down at your phone, the message still sitting there unsent. Your stomach twists as you think about Rafe’s admittance last week in the bedroom. How blindsided would he be if he knew you had been thinking about this as much as you have–letting it affect you the way it is?

Again, you set your phone down and roll out the tension in your neck, weighing the pros and cons and analyzing the risk. As you tip your head back on the couch, you hear your phone buzz. You grab it off the couch cushion, half-expecting another text from Cam, until you see Unkown.

“Hey,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, but you can hear the waver.

“Hey, princess,” Rafe replies, his voice warm and familiar, helping ease your tension. You can hear the commotion of the hotel lobby in the background, the faint hum of noise as the boys gear up to head out to the stadium. “What are you up to, baby?”

You glance at the TV ESPN College GameDay, already loaded. It should be a simple answer… But your mind is a mess, making it hard to wade through your thoughts.

“Baby?” He tries in a gentle voice. “You there?”

“Mhmm…” You hum, pushing the utterance past your lips. “Just scrolling Tumblr, waiting for the game to start; relaxing.”

“Good,” he drawls, his voice warm and smooth. “Just wanted to make sure you got the game to load.”

You pause and close your eyes, feeling the weight of your messages from Cam pushing down on your chest. The words are already forming in your throat. “Rafe,” you blurt.

“Yo,” he laughs nervously. “Uhh… You good, baby?”

You clear your throat, feeling heat pool in your cheeks. “Yeah… I–I got a text from Cam.”

The silence on the other end of the phone is deafening. You listen closely, hearing the lobby noise come through a little louder. “Uh, what? What did he say, baby?” He finally asks, keeping his tone calm.

“He said he wants to see me,” you whisper, met with more silence from Rafe.

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles. “He’s my brother… ‘Course he can’t stay away.” There’s a lightness to his tone as if he’s not at all surprised. The tension in your shoulders falls slightly at his response. Unsure of what his response would be—anger or jealousy—no part of you expected this. “You’re fine, princess. Just got in my head a little bit last weekend. It’s not a big deal, aight?”

“Okay…” You breathe, the nagging want to ask if it’s okay if he can come over replacing the previous discomfort. “Is it alright if he does?”

“Yeah, baby. I'll give him a quick call when we off.”

“You sure?” You ask uneasily.

“You gotta relax, baby. I wouldn’t have introduced the two of you if I was worried… I never worry about you.” You take a deep breath, pressing it out slowly, listening to Rafe’s light laugh on the other end. “Stop worryin’, pretty.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“C’mon... You’re my girl. I need you happy before I go out on the field or I'm not gonna be able to concentrate on shit.”

“I’m your girl,” you answer sweetly. “I’m fine. Just fine baby. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Rafe adds.

“I’m excited to watch you play,” you smile.

“Mmm… That’s my girl,” he hums. “I’ll call you when I get back to the hotel tonight. Shouldn’t be too late, aight?”

“Sounds perfect,” you reply.

The phone clicks off, leaving you with your thoughts in the apartment's quiet. Rafe’s trust was absolute, making everything much more complicated when you knew you were about to step outside your relationship without him knowing—especially now, discovering he had been okay with it all along.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the storm inside you. Looking at the screen, you try your best to relax, smiling as you see your boyfriend’s face pop up.

After a while, the game was on, and Rafe was playing like a star. The commenters praised Rafe, his name coming through the speakers repeatedly, leaving your thoughts ping-ponging between both boys—back and forth, back and forth–the grip on your phone getting tighter by the second.

Buzz.

Cam: Out front

Your eyes widen as you see the notification, making all of those thoughts come to a screeching halt.

Just like you had guessed, Cam didn’t wait for your response, taking the Cameron approach to the matter, leaving you relieved and nervous, stressed and elated, completely fuckin’ torn as you walked to the door. Your body trembles with adrenaline as you grab the handle.

Rafe said it was ‘okay.’ So why am I still so nervous? You feel a familiar rush as you look into his beautiful eyes–that same feeling bubbling just under the surface as it had been night one.

“Hey, baby,” Cam smiles, his voice deep and warm. “M’sorry for just coming. You can tell me to fuck off. I just–I couldn’t wait any longer.” You swallow thickly as he steps closer, waiting for a response.

“It’s fine,” you whisper. “I’m sorry I didn’t respond. I just didn’t–” Your words get swallowed in a deep, uneasy breath.

“You didn’t know if Rafe would be okay with it,” he answers for you. You look up at him, feeling overwhelmed.

“Yeah…”

“I didn’t think he’d agree either, but he came around,” he assures you as he wraps his arm around your waist. You draw a sharp little breath, and before you can speak, he captures your lips in a tender kiss.

He chuckles breathily against your lips as he feels you tremble in his arms.

“You’re good, alright? We got you.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, looking up at him, your nails scratching into his tight buzz cut. “Okay.”

“Atta girl,” he soothes as his lips travel along your cheeks and neck, pressing gentle kisses on top.

“I missed you,” you whisper. He lets out a delighted groan, squeezing you as he lifts you off your feet into a hug.

“Fuck… I missed you too, sweetheart. Haven't stopped thinkin’ about you.”

“Neither have I.” You bury yourself in his arms for a few more moments.

“… Relax,” teases again, and you melt in his arms a little more. You let out a laborious laugh before drawing a deeper breath than you have in days. “Now let’s watch this jackass play ball, huh?” Cam sets you down on the ground, walking into the living room. His fingers stay laced in yours, eyes tracing your body as he follows you. “You look good. Fuck, you look pretty, baby,” he hums.

You let out a little gasp and a laugh as he crashes down on the couch, pulling you on top of him as the second half starts. He wraps you up in his big arms, your head resting on his muscular chest.

You listen to his level breathing and the steady beating of his heart as the game goes on. His big, rough fingers trace your spine lazily during commercial breaks, making your entire body feel electric from that simple touch alone.

You watch proudly as your boyfriend stands with the other team captain for the post-game interview, grinning ear to ear. The interviewer kicks it back to the ESPN studio, leaving Cam with your full attention.

The corners of Cam’s lips curl into the prettiest smile, making your stomach flutter. “Princess…” He mumbles as you rest your chin resting on his chest.

“Mhmm,” you hum.

“I don’t think I could have stayed away even if Rafe said ‘no,’” he whispers, his voice just above a hush. You can tell those words hadn’t left his lips easily— like he had been thinking about them since he left. And, like you, he knew that feeling that was wrong, too.

“Me either,” you breathe, answering honestly.

“We don’t need to tell him, alright?” He asks. “Can you keep that between you and me? I just don’t wanna have him get in the way of this– you and I. Of course, you two still have each other, but I think what we have is different.”

“I think so, too,” you whisper.

The post-game show droned on, and then the highlights of the day’s games, all just background noise as the two of you fell into a steady rhythm together: talking, joking, and snuggling as the warmth of his body pressed against yours. You could feel the connection between the two of you growing stronger, a bond you hadn’t anticipated this early hitting you hard and fast–absolutely impossible to forget.

Buzz.

You watch as your phone trembles on the coffee table with a new message from Rafe, letting you know he is back at the hotel and waiting. “It’s Rafe,” you beam; Cam’s expression softens as he brushes some hair off your face.

“Sounds good, baby…”

You step off the couch and walk toward the bedroom. Pulling open the laptop, you look across the room, fixing your hair and outfit in the mirror as Skype loads.

“Babygirl,” you hear Rafe cheer. His loud voice breaks the speakers a little, crackling in the feedback with his post-win excitement. You swoon, looking at the pretty boy on the other side of the screen. “Get the fuck out, Maybank,” he scoffs.

“What, you’re not gonna let me watch,” JJ smiles and winks as he sees you on Rafe’s end. Rafe shoves him out of focus–the two bickering back and forth, getting their jabs in between laughs. “Goodnight, sweetheart,’ JJ calls to you.

“Yeah, you too, bitch,” Rafe smiles, flicking off the cornerback as he continues to accost Rafe ‘til the door shuts, the room falling silent.

“Hey, princess!” Rafe hums in a deeper tone, glowing with pride and excitement.

“Fuck, baby. That was a good game,” you smile as you crawl closer.

He gets easily distracted, seeing you in his jersey, making your excitement rise as well. “Look at you,” he praises as he leans in a little closer.

“You look good too, baby. Is that new?” You giggle and wink, the man already knowing where you're going as you eye up his new sweatshirt.

“Yeah. Yeah. It’s all yours, baby,” he chuckles and his plays with the strings a little before pulling off the hood. “N’thank you, sweetheart. We did alright.”

“Alright?” You puff. “You were amazing.”

He laughs that laugh, running his fingers through his hair. “I wish I had you here to celebrate with me, pretty.” His tone softens as he looks at you; you can tell he means every word. You look over your computer, watching as Cam walks into the room and takes a seat atop the dresser. “Hate leavin’ you alone on a Saturday night,” your stomach falls, eyes fluttering at his words.

“Oh…” Your heart and mind start to race. “I wish I was there too.” Your voice breaks with adrenaline as you try to explain it away in your mind… Maybe he just means without him? Alone… without him?

“You should go out or somethin’... Get some air, have a little fun, get a drink for me. I’ll be home tomorrow, and we can celebrate then, okay?” You nod quickly, trying to push that uneasy feeling aside.

I mean, I got a call from him before the game… I talked to Rafe. Am I going fucking crazy?

“I’ll be fine,” you smile, feeling your lips tremble.

“Missed our pregame chat… And our post-game shower for sure,” he chuckles sleazily.

You look at Cam, he holds your gaze for a moment before burying his face in his hands. No.

“You doin’ okay, baby?” Rafe asks as he cocks his head slightly, looking back at you. “After last week n’all? Seems like you've had a lot on your mind.”

“Mhmm… m’fine,” you answer far too casually for how uneasy you look now.

“Good, baby. That’s good,” he smiles. “So, uhh... You still up for a little fun tonight, princess?”

Cam looks up to the ceiling, fighting his own internal battle. I mean, he lied… He pretended to be Rafe–his own brother, the man who told him to stay away. He throws his gaze back down to the floor, nodding to himself as he pulls himself to his feet, and right when he goes to step toward the door, you reach down, pulling Rafe’s jersey over your head, leaving you in nothing but a lace bra and panties, acting before you can even think it through.

His head turns toward you, and the man draws a deep breath as his eyes fall down your body, taking you in like the first time. Your eyes return to the computer screen, watching Rafe do the same. A deep moan comes through your speakers; his pretty blue eyes rolling back in his skull.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs blissfully, tearing himself out of his shirt. You settle back down on the mattress, thighs spread wide as you look back at Rafe, watching out of the corner of your eye as Cam walks back, taking a more comfortable position on a chair as his darkened eyes lay set on you.

“Why did you stop, baby?” You ask Rafe, letting your eyes flick up to Cam’s as well, running on pure adrenaline. “Strip.”

Rafe chuckles darkly, and Cam smiles and bites his lip, catching the direction meant for both of them. Cam quickly pulls himself out of his shirt as well, making your mind swirl. You feel yourself growing wetter by the second, the chill of the wet lace clinging to your hot skin. And just like clockwork, the two boys pull down their pants, crashing back down onto the seat and the bed, their boxers tented out by their big cocks.

You bite your lip and smile as you reach behind your back, unclasping your bra and holding the lace to your chest as your hand shakes like a leaf, but you can’t stop. “You gonna be a tease, princess?” Rafe asks through a laugh. “M’not there to discipline you. You gonna test me, or are you gonna be a good girl?”

“Always a good girl for you, baby,” you whisper as you flick your bra to the floor.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans as he paws off his last bit of clothing, his long, thick clock hitting his tight abs with a smack as Cam quickly does the same. Goosebumps bloom across your skin and your body, riding an indescribable high. “Got that video, baby?” Rafe asks.

“Mhmm…” You prop up your phone on your computer, pushing play, listening to your soft giggle and Rafe's low moan swell through the phone’s tiny speaker.

“Do you have the video, baby?” You ask as your right-hand drifts between your thighs, rubbing your clit lightly through the fabric. You see a flicker of movement out of the top of your eyes as Cam licks his lips hungrily.

“‘Course I do, princess… I’ve been thinkin’ about it all fuckin’ day.”

Cam straightens up a little, his view obstructed by the laptop, desperately wanting to watch you play with your pussy. He stands up from his seat, his fat cock standing straight–his swollen head already leaking with precum sheened at the tip as he walks to the edge of the bed, taking a seat.

Your fingers work a little quicker, teasing both boys with what they can’t touch. Your head falls back, a soft moan leaving your lips with every even breath. You look down at Rafe, watching his big fist wrap around his thick cock, stroking slowly.

“Take off your panties, baby,” Rafe mumbles. You drag the wet material down your thighs, flicking them to Cam, making the beautiful boy take his bottom lip between his teeth as he runs the material through his big fingers. He rubs this thumb across the wetness, lifting it to his lips to suck it clean with his eyes on you.

“You look so pretty on camera, princess… Tell me why I’m takin’ my eyes off you again?” Rafe chuckles, his eyes dancing between you and the home movie on his phone, the man on Cloud 9.

“I love having your attention, Daddy,” you smile as you glide your fingers wet through your slick folds, “gets me wet,” you tease as you bring them back up to your clit hating yourself for how comfortable you feel—not hating yourself enough to quit.

“So fuckin’ dirty, princess. I love it,” he hums as he starts to stroke his dick a little faster, getting off at the sight of you, spitting on his cock for lube.

Your eyes shift slightly, biting back as you smile as Cam wraps the pretty lace around the base of his thick length, hissing at the contact as he wraps himself tight. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second, the boys holding back their sounds just to hear more of it as they watch you close.

You lean out of the screen, reaching into the nightstand, pulling out a vibrator, showing it off for the camera. “Fuck, baby,” Rafe hums as he adjusts slightly, forgoing the video altogether as he catches a glimpse of your toy, “you’re killin’ me.” You look up at Cam, the desperation in his eyes, fighting back his praise and pleasured sounds with his life.

“Babygirl,” Rafe murmurs as his eyes rake over your naked body, the tip of the vibrator replacing your fingers on your sex. “Stop fuckin’ with me.” Chills fall down your spine as you hear Rafe’s deep, commanding voice.

“What do you want, Rafe?” You ask breathily as you push it a little deeper between your thighs, tracing your slit before showing it to the boys; the head drenched with your wetness.

“Shittt… Turn it on,” he mumbles as his breathing quickens, the gold chain on his chest catching the light.

“Yes, Daddy,” you turn it on, making a show of it as the length of it twirls and shakes. You can feel how drenched you are, your drooling hole leaking down your inner thigh. You gasp as the silicone tip meets your plush skin, tracing through the mess before lifting your eyes to Rafe.

“Push it in, pretty.” You gasp as the vibrations hit your clit, muscles jolting from the contact, that shock quickly turning into pleasure. Your thighs tremble as you ghost the tip over your puffy clit, pussy clenching around nothing. “Fuckin’ push it in,” Rafe moans. “Damn, you’re evil for this, baby. Shit… Just wait for tomorrow night I fuckin’ swear-”

“Shit!” You squeal; both boys’ moans cancel each other out as you stuff the toy inside your aching core. Your eyes shift between Rafe and Cam as they work their fists over their throbbing dicks.

“Play with that shit. C’mon, baby. C’mon,” Rafe pleads through a deep groan as he watches you close.

“So pretty, baby. Shit, you look so damn good,” Cam mumbles under his breath as he watches the toy fuck in and out of you, keeping your pace with your strokes.

You let out a hoarse cry as you find your g-spot, the little vibrating nub pressing against your clit perfectly. Your breathing starts to quicken with your heart, the knot in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Your eyes clamp shut as you feel yourself about to near your peak.

“Open your eyes, baby. M’gonna cum… Fuck. I’m gonna cum for you,” Rafe hums. Your orgasm hits you fast, washing over you like a wave. You watch the screen as Rafe strokes a few more times before letting his thick cock go, pulsing as he cums in ropes landing hot on his abs as he pants like a dog.

Cam bites his lips, wrapping his fist around the delicate lace, pulling it down to his tip. His head falls back as he empties himself into the lace. His ab muscles clench as his heavy load dirties your panties, making an absolute mess of the fabric.

The three of you breathe heavily, coming down from your highs together. A broad smile spreads across Rafe’s lips as he tilts his head back, hitting the hotel headboard with a soft thud. “Mmm… Get on your back, baby,” Rafe hums. “You're cummin’ again.”

“Yeah?” You ask with a breathless laugh as you look between Rafe and the video playing on the phone, watching Rafe throw you to the mattress and plunge back in fast.

“Yeah, princess. Wanna hear you cum with yourself. Better hurry up, sweetheart. Sounds like you’re close,” he smiles smugly as you lay down on the bed, starting up the vibrator, your thighs, pussy still quaking from your first orgasm.

Your eyes widen as you look between your thighs, watching Cam take it off your hands before pushing it inside for you. You cry out, back arching off the mattress as he works it in at the perfect angle, the head of the vibration swirls against your g-spot, vibrator flicking at your clit.

“Fuck, you can take dick like a pornstar. Can't you princess?” Rafe praises—his cock still hard, as he shifts his focus between the old video and the pleasure on your face, the rest of your body cut off from the lens as Cam works the toy in and out.

Your bottom lip pouts and trembles in overstimulation as fat tears roll down your hot cheeks. You look down at Cam, scratching your nails into his buzzed hair. His eyes rake up your body, landing on your lips, licking his own—no doubt thinking about his dick sliding in and out and your lips on him.

He turns up the speed to the max, making you fight against him slightly, but he grabs your body, pinning you to the mattress.

“Are you gonna cum, princess?” Rafe drawls, and you nod rapidly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Give it to me.”

“Mhmm,” is all you can muster. “Fuck!” You whine as your damn breaks, pleasure coursing through your body as you flutter around the vibrator, cumming in tandem with the video of yourself.

Cam pulls out the vibrator, making you gasp. He flattens his tongue, licking a line up your silk, causing you to whimper pathetically as he works you through your high. Cam curls his arms, forcing you closer as he locks onto your puffy clit, sucking and flicking his tongue; feeling yourself close to a third release but you trap him between your thighs, throwing him daggers with your gaze.

“Fuck–Fuck, JJ. What the hell?” Rafe calls as you hear the door push open on Rafe’s end, making all three of you jump. Your hand clamps over your lips, as you watch your boyfriend, do his best to cover himself up while his teammate cackles. “Knock on the goddamn door,” he barks.

“Forgot my wallet,” JJ says, his voice on the edge of laughter.

Rafe covers himself more, putting his big hand up to the camera as JJ pops his head in, grabbing his wallet off the nightstand. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” Rafe hisses, only half-kidding, but you’re already covered up with a blanket anyway. His eyes track JJ as he walks away, heading out the door.

“Goddamn…” Rafe mutters as he pulls back the dirtied duvet, eyeing the mess. “How many more guys am I gonna have to fight off you today?” He huffs.

Cam looks over his shoulder slightly as he pulls back on his sweats. You can see it in his eyes, Cam hit with the bitter taste of guilt. Rafe smiles at you lovingly, utterly oblivious to the war in your mind and his brother in the room.

“Rafe-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, princess. I love you,” he cuts you off before you go to speak, seconds away from spilling your guts. Maybe it’s for the best…

“I love you too,” you whisper, hearing the slight crack in your voice.

You grab the top of your laptop, pulling it shut, your heart banging in your ears as the weight of the situation starts to pile on you. You felt a rush of panic flood through you—not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

What the fuck did I just do?

Part 4

[hellobykittys]

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 ✦ 𝐋𝐇⁴⁴

SUMMARY: Upon discovering you’re pregnant with your boyfriend’s child, you find yourself spiraling into a wave of insecurities, fearing his potential negative reaction and the impact it could have on your relationship. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. PAIRING: Lewis Hamilton x Reader! Girlfriend. WARNING: Established relationship; mild angst; unplanned pregnancy. WC: 2.8k

MASTERLIST | THE (IM)PERFECT PLAN SERIE

It was the second time that day you found yourself leaning over the toilet, your stomach churning relentlessly. Breakfast and the light snack you’d had earlier—both meant to be simple—had already made their way there, and with each passing moment, your suspicions grew harder to ignore. Yet, you stubbornly refused to acknowledge what was right in front of you.

Two weeks had passed since your period was supposed to start, something completely out of the ordinary for you. Your cycle was always regular. In its place came the nausea and constant vomiting.

You didn’t know what to do. The thought of taking a test was too terrifying. It felt easier to pretend this was just a passing illness. After all, how could you possibly be pregnant? You and Lewis were always careful, taking every precaution.

“You need to take a test,” your friend Anne said as she held your hair back, preventing the mess from worsening.

“Anne, I don’t know if I want to know the answer.” You spoke between breaths, rising to rinse your mouth at the sink.

“Eventually, you’ll have to face it,” she said gently, her hand brushing over your back in a gesture of comfort. “If it’s true, you’re going to have to tell him.”

“I don’t even know if he wants to be with me, let alone a child. He’s going to hate this news.” Your tired, worried eyes stared back at you in the mirror. “I don’t know what to do.”

“He won’t hate it. He loves you, and I’m sure he’ll love having a child with you,” Anne said, trying to ease your anxiety. “Y/N, don’t believe what people say online. They just want to bring you down.”

“You don’t understand.” You turned to her, your eyes full of doubt. “We’ve never talked about it—about starting a family. Whenever the subject comes up, he changes it. At first, I thought it was because we’d only been together a short while, but now… I think he genuinely doesn’t want anything more serious.”

“But you’ve been together for two years! How could he not want something more serious?”

“He was with Nicole for seven years, and that wasn’t enough for him to marry her.” You lowered your head, your chest tightening. “Deep down, I think the media’s right. He probably just wants to stay free until the last day of his life. His whole world revolves around Formula 1. Family isn’t part of his plans. Only the eighth title matters.”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. The weight of your words felt unbearable, but you couldn’t stop thinking them. The fear that this was all a mistake, that Lewis simply wasn’t ready for more, consumed you.

Anne noticed your distress and stepped closer, her hand resting on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I know it seems hard right now, but you can’t make these decisions on your own. You have to talk to him. He deserves to know, and you deserve to hear what he has to say.”

You turned to face her, your expression reflecting the emotional storm you were caught in. “And if he doesn’t want it? If he tells me he’s not ready, that what we have isn’t enough? What am I supposed to do with this baby? With this… life?”

“Then you’ll deal with it in your own way. This isn’t about what he wants—it’s about what you want, what you need. He may be the person you love, but don’t forget who you are and what you deserve.”

Anne’s words echoed in your mind, but the truth still felt distant, shrouded in uncertainty. It felt like you were standing at a crossroads with your life taking a direction you’d never planned for. Lewis, with his fast-paced existence of racing, titles, and adrenaline, seemed worlds apart from your quiet longing for stability—perhaps even a family. Something you weren’t even sure he shared.

In the end, you knew you couldn’t avoid reality any longer. The test needed to be done. Procrastination wasn’t an option anymore. The fear was overwhelming, but the uncertainty hurt worse. And, above all, the result would only be the beginning. The real challenge would be telling Lewis.

“Will you do this with me?” Your voice came out softer than expected, almost a whisper filled with vulnerability. You looked at Anne, searching her expression for a strength you felt you’d lost. “I mean, will you buy the test and wait for the result with me?”

Anne smiled reassuringly, taking your hand in hers with a firm grip. “Of course. And if you prefer, we can do this at my apartment. No rush, no pressure.”

You shook your head in refusal. “I think it’s better to do it here. He’s not coming back today… probably not until tomorrow night. Maybe even later.” The emptiness of the house felt less oppressive when you spoke aloud, but the apprehension was still palpable. “I just need the courage to go to the pharmacy.”

Anne squeezed your hand, her eyes full of understanding. “You don’t have to do this alone. Let’s go together. Let’s get this over with.”

The trip to the pharmacy was quick, but each step felt like a monumental challenge. The way back home seemed even longer, with the weight of the small package in your bag growing heavier by the second. Back at the apartment, you locked yourself in the bathroom while Anne waited outside, offering encouraging words that barely penetrated the storm in your mind.

You held the test in trembling hands, your eyes scanning the instructions like they were an impossible puzzle. Time seemed to freeze as you waited for the result, the silence broken only by the relentless pounding of your heart.

When you finally looked at the small display, reality crashed over you like a tidal wave. Positive.

Your breath caught in your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the lines that confirmed what you already suspected. Silent tears began to stream down your face as a flood of emotions—fear, anguish, and an inexplicable love for the new life now connected to you—washed over you.

“Well?” Anne’s soft, hesitant voice called from the other side.

You opened the door, holding the test in your trembling hand. Anne’s expression softened at the sight of your tears. She said nothing, simply pulling you into a tight embrace.

“What now?” you asked quietly, your voice laden with uncertainty.

Anne pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression calm but firm. “Now you take a deep breath, Y/N. Then, you tell him. No matter the fear, no matter the doubts. He deserves to know, and you deserve to be heard.”

You nodded slowly, but the lump in your throat remained. Her words were logical, exactly what you needed to hear, but the fear still loomed, beating loudly in your chest. How would you tell Lewis? How would you find the words that would change both your lives forever?

“Anne…” Your voice came out shaky, barely a whisper, as you wrapped your arms around her tightly, searching for any fragment of comfort. “I’m so scared. What if he… what if he doesn’t want this baby?”

Anne sighed, her hand gently rubbing your back with patience. “Y/N, even if he doesn’t, which I honestly find hard to believe, you’ll move forward. You’re stronger than you think.” She pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, her gaze full of conviction. “If you want to have this baby, that’s all that matters. We’ll take care of it. I won’t leave you alone, ever.”

You closed your eyes, trying to absorb her words, but the weight of the situation still felt unbearable. “But what if he leaves me, Anne? What if he thinks this was a mistake? That I was careless?”

Anne cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to look at her. “He loves you. And even if the idea scares him at first, he’s a good man, Y/N. But more than anything, you need to remember that his love isn’t the only thing that matters here. What do you feel? What do you want? That matters, too.”

Her question hung in the air, echoing in your mind as you tried to find an answer. Deep down, you knew what you wanted. You loved Lewis with all your heart, and despite the fear consuming you, you already felt an inexplicable love for the life growing inside you. But bridging those two feelings felt impossible.

As you stared at the positive test sitting on the bedside table, your heart pounded relentlessly, racing with uncertainty. That tiny object seemed to carry the weight of all your doubts and fears. You knew you couldn’t put off talking to Lewis forever, but the thought of confronting him was paralyzing. Each passing second only tightened the knot in your throat.

He was supposed to return the following morning, giving you one night to organize your thoughts, find the right words, and somehow gather the courage that felt so far away. But now, as the reality began to settle in, you decided to push it aside for a while. You needed to distract yourself, to focus on taking care of yourself—and the baby you now carried.

In the kitchen, you started preparing something simple to eat. The thought of being responsible for another life made every small action feel significant. You couldn’t ignore your health or choices anymore. Everything you did was for two now. And though the anxiety still throbbed in your mind, there was a small, strange comfort in that realization.

You were slicing fruit when the sound of the front door opening suddenly broke the silence of the house. Your heart nearly stopped for a moment. He wasn’t supposed to be back until the next morning.

“Y/N?” Lewis’s voice echoed from the living room, heavy with exhaustion and surprise.

You turned to see him standing in the hallway, still holding his travel bag. He was dressed casually in a black jacket and his signature travel cap. His eyes locked on you, then shifted to the plate of fruit on the counter before softening into a smile.

“I decided to come back early. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He approached, leaving the bag by the wall to pull you into a warm hug. The heat of his body against yours brought immediate comfort—but also a new weight.

You weren’t ready. Not yet. But the moment seemed to have chosen him—or fate had.

“Are you okay?” Lewis asked, pulling back just enough to study your face. His expression was laced with concern.

“I’m… I’m fine. Just tired.” Your voice came out low, but you knew he would sense something was off. Lewis always did.

His brows furrowed slightly as he tilted his head, his gaze probing. “You sure? You seem a little distant.”

With him standing there, just a few steps away, the idea of telling him felt even more daunting. Fear wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing tighter and tighter. Fear that the news could change everything between you, fear that the love you shared wouldn’t be enough to face what was coming. So, for at least one more night, you decided to delay. Tomorrow would be the right time. Tonight, you just wanted to savor your last moment of peace with him—if everything changed afterward.

But the memory of the test sitting on the bedside table sent a fresh wave of panic through you. If Lewis went into the bedroom now, he’d see it. There was no way to hide it in time.

“Nothing’s wrong, love.” You forced a smile, leaning up to kiss him, his lips still warm from the chill outside. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll take your bag and be right back, okay?”

Before you could grab his bag, Lewis held onto it firmly, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to do that. I can carry my own bag.” He smiled, the kind of smile that always made your heart flutter, and slung the strap back over his shoulder. “I’ll shower and then we can pick a movie, yeah?”

“No, seriously, let me.” You insisted, your voice slightly too quick. “You must be exhausted. Just relax, I’ll handle it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing your unease, but didn’t argue further. “Y/N, I’m not made of glass. I can carry my own luggage.”

Without another word, you followed him to the bedroom, your heart racing with every step. Lewis placed his bag by the wardrobe but lingered, his gaze drifting back to you.

“You’re acting weird,” he commented with a small smile, though he didn’t press further. “I’ll take a quick shower and be back. Pick us a good movie.”

As soon as he entered the bathroom and the door closed, you let out the breath you had been holding and quickly made your way to the bedside table. With swift movements, you grabbed the test and hid it in the deepest drawer, pushing it down beneath a few papers. When you finished, the relief was immediate, but brief.

You left the room and returned to the kitchen, trying to distract yourself with anything else. You prepared a bowl of fruit and placed it on the counter, but your mind couldn’t help but drift back to the inevitable moment that was coming.

Minutes later, sensing something was off with Lewis’s delay, you decided to return to the bedroom. When you opened the door, your heart nearly stopped at the sight before you. Lewis was sitting on the bed, his eyes fixed on the pregnancy test he was holding in his hand.

“Lewis…” your voice came out weak, barely a whisper.

He looked up, and for a moment, you couldn’t read his expression. It wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t relief either. It was something in between—confusion, perhaps.

“How long have you known?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

The question hit you like a punch. “What? Lewis, I—”

“Were you hiding this from me?” He stood up, his brow furrowed in a mix of frustration and hurt. “Did you think you could handle this alone?”

“I didn’t… I just found out!” you retorted, feeling your eyes well up. “I didn’t even have time to think, to process. I was going to tell you, Lewis!”

But he didn’t seem to hear you. He ran his hands through his hair, clearly trying to organize his thoughts.

“I thought we were a couple, Y/N. That we trusted each other.”

Those words hit you cruelly, a blow to your vulnerability. “Lewis, I wasn’t hiding anything! I just… I didn’t have the courage to take the test until today. I needed a moment. A second to process what was happening to me.”

He paused, studying your face, his dark eyes softening as his anger dissolved into understanding. Finally, he shook his head, the weight of the tension lifting from his shoulders.

“When were you planning on telling me?” he asked, his voice quieter, but still firm.

“I was going to tell you tomorrow,” you rushed to explain, almost pleading for him to believe you. “I just… I didn’t know how to do it. Lewis, please, believe me.”

His expression changed completely. Without saying another word, he walked over and pulled you into a tight hug. The warmth of his body was comforting, but what struck you the most was the soft sound of a sob. He was crying.

“You should’ve told me as soon as you suspected,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I wanted to be here with you when you took the test.”

“Are… are you happy?” you asked hesitantly, the words coming out in a whisper full of doubt.

He pulled back slightly, cradling your face in his big, warm hands. A smile broke through the tears streaming down his face.

“Of course I’m happy, my love.” His voice was low, but full of conviction. “This baby is a piece of our love. How could I not be happy?”

You collapsed into his arms, your head resting on his strong chest as tears flowed freely down your face. The relief and love you felt in that moment were overwhelming.

“You have no idea how scared I was,” you confessed through sobs. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t want this baby… that you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

He held you even tighter, impossibly so, and kissed the top of your head, lingering in the gesture.

“I would never do that, Y/N. Never.” He sighed, his voice thick with emotion. “You mean everything to me. And now, we’re going to be a family. I just wish I’d been there with you from the start.”

His words were a balm, soothing the storms that had built in your heart over the past few weeks.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, still hidden against his chest.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he replied, gently stroking your hair. “We’re both learning. But now that I know… I promise you’ll never face any of this alone again.”

You stayed like that for long minutes, not needing any more words. The moment was just for the two of you, and nothing seemed more important than the future you were beginning to build together.

[reminiscingtonight]

Tech Support

Alexia Putellas & Putellas!Reader (Jana Fernández x Putellas!Reader)

Word Count: 1.2k

[WOSO Masterlist]

“So I am… supposed to click this?”

Alexia’s hand is swatted away at record speed before she can make contact with the screen.

“No, this one.”

Who would’ve thought. Captain of the country. Legend of your club. The La Reina may be feared by players worldwide, but even she could be beaten by something as simple as a new phone.

The two of you have been at this for a couple hours now.

When your sister first slid the box across the table at you, your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. You didn’t even have time to thank Alexia before she crushed your dreams right then and there. What you first thought was a present for you turned out to be a resigned plea for help.

As the resident tech genius you were high in demand. Last week it was setting up your mami’s tablet. Yesterday it was fixing Olga’s laptop. And today it seems to be Alexia’s turn.

Though now that you think about it, “genius” may be a stretch. It’s not until the third time you stop yourself from throwing Alexia’s phone at her that she lets it slip that Alba was actually her first call for help. It’s no surprise to hear that your middle sister was quick to refuse, given that the last time she helped Alexia set up a phone resulted in heated words and staunch refusal to speak to one another for two weeks.

Given that she’s your club captain the loss in communication is something you can’t risk, but you’ve always thought of yourself as gifted when it comes to technology. If you could teach your mami how to use facebook without spamming her personal page with posts about you and your sisters, surely helping Alexia transfer her data and set up a new phone would not be too hard of a challenge.

Oh how you’re wrong.

Though you’re only eight years younger than Alexia, she still manages to struggle as if she’s well into her nineties.

Ask if she’s backed up her data? Might as well have told her to recite the first fifteen digits of pi.

Ask if she’s taken note of the apps she needs to redownload? Might as well have asked if she knew the secret to happiness.

Tell her to grant certain apps permissions to her phone? Might as well have told her you were transferring to Real Madrid.

Ask her to re-sign back into her multitude of accounts? Might as well have asked her to transfer to Real Madrid.

If you had known just how teeth pulling this would be, you would have left Olga to deal with Alexia herself.

Despite your clear and well-informed instructions of what to click where, which settings to enable or disable, Alexia kept bulldozing through your words, thinking she knew better.

Spoiler, she did not.

Jana’s already been by to give you some words of encouragement, but after the fifth time you quietly asked if she could make up an excuse to drag you out, she hunkered down on a nearby couch with Olga. The two of them, traitors at heart, are having a blast watching some trashy reality tv show while you struggle away with Alexia.

At this point you’re one more question away from factory resetting Alexia’s new phone, but a promise from Olga to buy you lunch and a burning desire to prove to Alba that you’re a better teacher than she is leaves you clinging to the last piece of sanity you have.

After what seems like an eternity, Alexia finally sits back from where she’s been hunched over your shoulder, poking and prodding at her phone.

“I still don’t understand why I have to set up a passcode when I could just use my fingerprint to unlock everything.”

The only word capable of describing Alexia at this moment in time is brooding. Arms crossed, face drawn in a frown, your thirty-year-old sister is brooding over your insistence at setting a passcode.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What if you’re at training and you need Mapi to pull up something from your phone while your hands are busy?”

Alexia huffs, smile on her face as she thinks she’s got you. “Simple, I would never trust Maria with my phone!”

“Ale!” you groan. “That’s not the point.”

She’s not wrong. The last person to mistakenly trust the blonde haired woman with their unlocked phone received the device back with fifteen added stories to their instagram account. Though that was on the tamer side of what the defender was capable of, no one’s really let her borrow their phone since.

You catch Jana’s twinkling eyes over the back of the couch as she shares a giggle with Olga.

“Okay, what if I get hurt on the pitch and you’re too busy consoling me? I’m sure Jana would appreciate being able to use your phone to call mami to let her know I’ve been hurt.”

Alexia rolls her eyes. “First, Jana already has mami’s phone number. Pretty sure she likes your girlfriend more than the both of us.”

The number of times Eli has called you just to ask if Jana would be coming over for a family dinner would be insulting if you weren’t smitten with the idea of your girlfriend having fit right into your own family. Though the two of you haven’t officially been together long, years of friendship meant Eli was more than delighted when she found out the two of you were together. It also meant she was quick to catch Jana up on any and all family events she was hosting.

“Also, that’s not a problem because mami never misses one of our games so she’d already be there!”

It’s almost as if Olga can see the steam coming out of your ears. She’s quick to walk over, rubbing you back apologetically before throwing an arm around Alexia’s shoulder.

“Would you please set one for me, amor? Sometimes I misplace my phone and yours is closer.”

It’s maddening the way Alexia instantly starts nodding like a lovesick puppy. She plucks the phone right out of your hands, swiping until she can get to the right screen.

From over Alexia’s shoulder Olga gives you a wink.

With her girlfriend wrapped tightly around her, you take your cue to exit.

Jana opens her arms wide and you enter willingly. The older girl chuckles when you instantly bury your face against her stomach, arms tightening around her legs.

“I wanna go home,” you grumble, ignoring the way you can feel the vibrations of Jana’s laughter.

“Don’t you wanna stay for lunch?”

As much as you loathe the hours wasted on Alexia, the promise of free sushi did sound pretty good. All you have in your fridge is some leftover pasta from the night before, and you’re never one to pass up free food.

“Hermanita, what’s this I’m seeing about unlocking my phone with my face?”

You stiffen.

On second thought, leftovers didn’t sound too bad.

[itneverendshere]

someone who lets you break them twice - hockey!ex!rafe - part two

warnings: angst 🥰

You shouldn’t be here.

It’s stupid. Dangerous, even.

That’s all you can think as you stand at the bar, fingers tapping nervously against your glass. It’s packed, the typical crowd buzzing after another one of the games. It’s the usual fans, players, and people who’ve never touched a hockey stick in their life but still come to bask in the afterglow of a win. 

You’d sworn after the last time — after that night — you wouldn’t let yourself get sucked back into this. But here you are. It’s only been three weeks since you accidentally ended up fucking him.

That night after his game, with your date somewhere outside, waiting for you, oblivious. You didn’t mean for it to happen. It was supposed to be closure, a final goodbye, whatever excuse you’d fed yourself when you let Rafe pull you into that dark hallway at the stadium. Maybe it was seeing him on the ice again, that high, that intensity, had done something to you. The way he’d stared at you in the stands, like he was winning just to prove something. Like he still had something to prove to you.

Now, you’re actively avoiding him again — which is hard, considering he’s everywhere. On the screens, in the tabloids, in your goddamn head.

“You okay?” your friend asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, just... crowded,” you lie, forcing a smile. But she knows better, giving you that knowing look that says, Yeah, sure, totally not about your hockey player ex who's right over there.

“Uh-huh. He’s here, isn’t he?” She doesn’t even have to ask. The answer’s written all over your face.

“I don’t care,” you lie. “I just—”

But you don’t finish because that’s when you see him. You take a sip of your drink, scanning the room out of habit. And there he is.

Rafe Cameron, in all his post-game glory, laughing with his teammates like he doesn’t have a care in the world. He’s still wearing part of his team gear like it’s his uniform for life, that stupidly tight team jacket stretched across those broad shoulders you used to run your hands down. His hair is still damp from the shower. He hasn’t seen you yet — thank God — but you know it’s only a matter of time.

He always finds you.

You suck in a sharp breath and look away fast, pretending to be deeply invested in whatever drink the bartender is making.

Why did you come here again? To prove a point to yourself? To what, show him you’re unaffected? Stupid. So, so stupid. He’s a mistake. A mistake wrapped up in six feet of cocky charm.

Your friend’s watching you, probably already figuring out what’s going through your head, but you’re too focused on him. On the way he throws his head back laughing at something his buddy says. You can’t hear it over the music, but you know that laugh too well, you can imagine the sound like clockwork. You should be past this. You’ve had closure. The kind of closure that leaves bruises and bite marks, the kind that shouldn’t have happened.

“Girl, you need to—”

“Shut up,” you mutter, but there’s no heat behind it. You know what she’s going to say. You know exactly what she’s thinking because it’s the same thing running through your head: Why the fuck can’t you stay away from him?

“Nope,” she says firmly, like she’s reading your mind. “Not tonight, okay? You said you were done.”

“I am done,” you murmur. Liar, liar, liar.

It’s downright infuriating how your body reacts to him, even now.

You can feel it in your chest,  something that always pulls you toward him and hasn’t let up since the day you first met him. It’s maddening. You’ll ignore him, just like last time — except, okay, last time didn’t exactly work out. But this time will be different. You’ll stay cool, stay calm, stay—

“Leaving already?”

You freeze, your heart skipping for all the wrong reasons. You could walk away, pretend you didn’t hear him. But you don’t.

You slowly turn around, and there he is, standing right behind you, eyes on you with that same intensity that always makes it impossible to breathe.

He looks good. Too good. And he knows it.

“What do you want?”

He smirks, leaning against the bar like this is just another normal conversation. Like you didn’t fuck him three weeks ago after months of silence. Like that didn’t mean something.

“Can’t say hi to my ex?” He cocks his head, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Or are we pretending that didn’t happen now?”

You roll your eyes, taking another sip of your drink, trying to appear unbothered. But your body hates you. He steps closer, just enough that you catch the scent of his cologne — that stupid scent that still haunts your bed.

“I’m not pretending anything,” you snap, meeting his gaze. “I have nothing to say to you.”

 “You were gonna pretend you didn’t see me?”

“I’m not doing this with you,” you mutter, turning to leave. But before you can, he grabs your wrist — not hard, but enough to make you pause. 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he says, his voice lower now, more serious. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something. “Tell me you didn’t come here hoping to see me.”

He knows. He fucking knows. He’s still got you wrapped around his finger, and he’s not even hiding it.

You jerk your hand out of his grip, your jaw clenched tight. “You think I came here for you?” You can feel your pulse racing, the anger inside, because, fuck, maybe there’s a part of you that did. “You think I came here to throw it all away for you?”

He doesn’t even flinch. In fact, he steps closer, he’s huge and takes up too much space. “Maybe you just wanted to see me.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “I have seen you, Rafe. You look like shit.” You take a step back, needing space, needing air. “Not everything’s about you.”

He chooses to ignore your little comment.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?”

You know exactly what he’s talking about, and your body betrays you with a flush that spreads up your neck. That night. The way his hands had felt on your skin, the way you hadn’t been able to get enough of him.

“It was the adrenaline,” you snap, refusing to let him get the upper hand. “That’s all it was.”

“That’s bullshit,” he fires back immediately, stepping closer again, eyes locked on yours. “You weren’t thinking about the game when you kissed me. Or when you begged me to—”

“Shut up,” you hiss, cutting him off, your cheeks burning with rage. “We both know what happened was a mistake.”

Even as the words leave your mouth, you know how fake they sound. The memory of that night — his body over yours, his hands on you, the heat between you—

“Mistake, huh?” Rafe tilts his head, eyes narrowing as if he’s daring you to say it again. “That why you couldn’t keep your hands off me?”

You want to kill him.

“We were both high off the win. I wasn’t thinking. It didn’t mean anything.”

His jaw tightens, and you can see you’re hurting him. He leans down, close enough that his lips almost brush against your ear, and you shiver despite yourself.

“You weren’t thinking when you came apart in my arms, huh? You weren’t thinking when you told me you needed me,” he says, his voice a low rasp that makes you clench your thighs. 

“Stop.” Your voice cracks, and you hate yourself for it. You feel like you’re losing control, like you’re getting sucked back into him, the one you swore you’d broken free of.

“You’re still thinking about it. I know you are,” Rafe murmurs, and his hand slides up your arm, fingers grazing your bare skin.

You swallow hard, pulling back slightly, needing space to think, to breathe. “You’re not as important as you think.”

He chuckles softly, but there’s no humor in it. “Maybe not. But I’m still in your head. You still want me.”

You want to scream, want to shove him, want to do something to make him shut the fuck up because the worst part is, he’s not wrong. You’re still here, you’re still drawn to him like a magnet, no matter how many times you’ve told yourself you’re done.

And you hate him for it. Hate him.

“I don’t want you,” you say, but the words come out too weak, like you don’t believe them yourself, and Rafe’s eyes glimmer with amusement like he knows you don’t.

“That so?” he murmurs, stepping even closer, crowding you, his presence taking over your personal space in the best and worst way. His hand trails down your arm again, “Then why are you shaking?”

“I’m not—” you start, but before you can finish, his mouth is down on yours.

You don’t even think. You don’t have time to. One second, you’re angry, and the next, you’re kissing him back like you need him to breathe. Your hands fly to his chest, gripping the fabric of his jacket as you pull him closer. So fucking stupid.

You hate him, but you need him.

His tongue brushes against yours, and you moan into his mouth, hating yourself for how good it feels. Before you know it, he’s already pulling back, tugging you toward the back of the bar, weaving through his teammates with no hesitation, dragging you like you weight nothing.

“Rafe,” you hiss, trying to pull back, but he’s not listening. He doesn’t have to, he knows you’ll follow.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you snap, but your voice cracks. Because you know exactly what he’s doing. You’ve been here before. And despite every warning bell going off in your head, your body’s already reacting, already wanting this.

He doesn’t say a word at first, just spins you around and pins you against the door, his body pressing against yours, so close you can feel the hard lines of his muscles, the heat radiating off him. You open your mouth to argue, to push him away, to remind yourself why this is a bad idea — but then his lips are on yours again, and everything falls apart.

Rafe’s breath is hot against your neck, hands gripping your waist like every inch of space between you is unbearable. You’ve barely had time to catch your breath from him pinning you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours like he’s drowning in the kiss, like you’re still his to touch, to hold, to ruin.

And God, it feels like you are. 

Even though every part of you knows this is a bad idea, knows you should have walked away the second you saw him, your body doesn’t give a damn. It wants him. It’s always wanted him. You’re making out like you’re about to fuck right here in this tiny, dingy hallway, and there’s no stopping it now.

He yanks your shirt higher, his fingers trailing over your skin in a way that makes you want to forget all the bullshit that came before this. His mouth is on your collarbone now, kissing down, down, like he’s memorizing the way your body reacts to him. 

“I miss you,” he murmurs.

And it’s like all the air’s been sucked out of your lungs.

You swallow hard, shaking your head, refusing to let yourself believe it. “Don’t— Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth,” he says, his gaze locked on yours. “I miss you, okay? I—fuck, I hate this. Hate that you’re not there anymore, that you’re—” He breaks off, sucking in a sharp breath, like he’s struggling to find the words. “That you’re gone. Like I’m nothing to you.”

Just as he’s about to move lower, the door flies open. The sound scares you both, and Rafe steps back, his hands falling away from you instantly, leaving you cold, exposed, and pissed.

“Shit—” Rafe mutters, straightening up, turning around to face the door. And there she is.

Her.

Sofia, the team’s physical therapist — and the woman who’s been at the center of all your doubts, all your insecurities, since she was hired a year ago. The reason you and Rafe broke up in the first place. She’s standing in the doorway, eyes flicking between the two of you. But it doesn’t matter. The sight of her makes your blood boil.

You freeze, your body going rigid with the shock of it. You can’t believe this. 

Now? Of all times?

Sofia’s eyes move to Rafe, and it’s like you’re not even there. Like this isn’t the most awkward, tension-filled moment of your fucking life.

“Rafe,” she says calmly, too casually, like she hasn’t just interrupted whatever this is. “Coach needs you. It’s important.”

Rafe tenses, and for a second, he looks torn. But only for a second.

You can feel your chest tightening, your hands curling into fists at your sides. It’s always been like this. The way he looks at her, the way he drops everything for her, how they have this whole connection you were never part of. And it hits you again — she knew things about him you didn’t. Important things. Things that should’ve been yours to know first.

You remember the night you found out about the other team’s offer — how blindsided you’d felt when you saw it on the news. It wasn’t even that he rejected the offer. It was the fact that he didn’t tell you. Didn’t think it was a big deal. But he told her. You feel like throwing up by just thinking about it. The humiliation, the way Sofia had acted like it was normal, like she was so fucking in the loop. 

And now she’s here, again, like she always is.

You push past Rafe, your voice cutting through the tension. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Rafe turns to you, “It’s not what you think.”

You scoff, eyes burning into his. “Not what I think?” You can feel the fury bubbling up, your chest tightening with every breath. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid, Rafe?” You look between him and Sofia, your stomach churning at how casual she looks. Like she’s used to this. Used to being there—in the middle of things she has no business being in.

She’s standing there all cool and collected, glances between the two of you like this is just another day at work, another harmless interruption. She even has the nerve to offer you a tight, professional smile. Like she’s the fucking victim. Like she hasn’t been the fucking problem all along.

“Should I go?” she asks, voice sweet and calm, like she’s offering to leave a fucking brunch.

That does it. You snap. The adrenaline from the fight, from being caught, from everything just crashes through you like a wave. You glare at her, feeling your pulse race with rage.

"Are you fucking serious?" you spit, stepping forward, your voice shaking with barely contained rage. “Should you go? You shouldn’t be here. Ever. You’re not wanted.” Every word drips with venom, and the look on Sofia’s face changes slightly. She knows she’s hit a nerve.

She always does.

Rafe reaches out like he’s going to grab your arm, to stop you from escalating, but you pull back hard. You can’t even look at him right now.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

You can’t believe this is happening. Again.

Rafe’s face falls, like he didn’t expect you to react this way, like he hasn’t been a complete idiot for months. You step back, creating as much space as you can between you, him, and her.

“Wow,” You laugh bitterly, the sound hollow even to your own ears. “This is why we’re here. This right here. You, her—” You wave your hand dismissively at Sofia, who still stands there, too composed for what this moment is. “You’re so fucking blind.”

He looks like he wants to say something, to defend himself, but no words come out. Good.

You’re tired of hearing his excuses anyway.

“I don’t get why you couldn’t just talk to me,” you continue, feeling the familiar burn of tears threatening to sting your eyes. But you won’t give either of them the satisfaction of seeing you cry. Not now. “But no, you had to go to her. She’s your go-to, right? You tell her everything. She makes you feel better, right?”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like that,” he finally mutters, his voice low, strained. “I rejected the offer. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Of course, it was a big deal, Rafe. I was supposed to be the last to know? You think just because you rejected it, it didn’t fucking matter?”

Sofia clears her throat, shifting her weight uncomfortably, but you ignore her, your eyes still locked on Rafe. You can’t believe how casual he’s being about all of this, like your feelings were an afterthought. Like you were an afterthought.

“And you—” You turn to Sofia now, your voice laced with venom. “You knew the entire time. You both did.”

Sofia opens her mouth, but Rafe cuts her off. “Stop,” he says, his voice sharp. “Just... stop.”

“No, you don’t get to do that,” you snap, stepping back, keeping the distance between you. “You don’t get to look at me like that. Like I’m the one being unreasonable. I loved you, Rafe. I trusted you. And you broke that. You broke me.”

This is between you and Rafe, and she’s just a reminder of everything that went wrong, of all the things he kept from you.

With a bitter laugh, you grab your jacket from the floot and push past them both, your heart pounding in your chest. “I hope you’re happy together,” you mutter, not looking back as you storm out of the bathroom, out of the bar, out of his life.

You storm out of the bar, your pulse ripping in your ears, heart slamming against your chest like it’s trying to break free from whatever this is. The cool night air hits your skin, but it does nothing to calm the heat in your body. You can still feel his hands on you, his mouth, the way he pulled you in like nothing had changed, like it was still him and you against the world. But nothing is the same anymore. He isn’t yours to touch, and you’re not his to ruin. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, letting him in just to tear you apart all over again.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pull it out, staring at the screen. It’s a text from your friend, asking if you’re okay. You blink, forcing yourself to take a breath. Right. Yeah. I’m fine. Just needed some air. I’ll be back in a sec. Lie after lie after lie.

You’re done. For real this time. You’ve said it before, told yourself that you were finished with Rafe, but it never stuck. This time though? You don’t think you could go back even if you wanted to.

You’re tired. Tired of fighting, tired of waiting for him to figure his shit out, tired of being second to someone else. Sofia’s just a reminder of all the ways he’s failed you, of the times he left you hanging in the worst way. But it’s not just her — it’s him. It’s always been him and the way he never truly opened up to you. Not the way you needed him to.

Your chest hurts so fucking bad as the tears finally start to blur your vision, but you don’t stop walking. You don’t look back. Not this time. You don’t make it more than a few steps before you hear it — his voice, calling your name. Loud, desperate.

You curse under your breath, not daring to turn around, but he’s quick. His footsteps are fast, catching up to you before you can get too far.

“Wait!” Rafe’s hand grabs your arm, pulling you to a stop.

You spin around, ripping your arm from his grip, “Don’t you fucking dare. Let me go, Rafe.”

He doesn’t. His eyes are frantic, like he knows he already lost but isn’t willing to admit it. “No, we’re not doing this again. You don’t just get to walk away like that.”

“Like what?” You scoff, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “Like I’m tired of the same bullshit with you? Like I’m finally done playing this game?”

“You don’t mean that.” There’s something rin the way he’s looking at you, something that makes you almost hate him more. Because he’s right — you don’t mean it. Not fully. And that’s the worst part.

“Don’t tell me what I mean, Rafe,” you spit, shoving his chest. He barely moves. “Stop,” you snap, pushing him again. “Just stop. You can’t keep doing this, showing up, pulling me back in, pretending like you care when it’s convenient for you.”

“I do care.” He runs his hands through his hair, exasperated, “Why do you think I’m here right now?”

“Because you hate not being in control,” you spit back, chest heaving. “Because you hate it when things aren’t on your terms.”

“That’s not it,” he growls, stepping closer again. He’s towering over you now, but you don’t back down. “You think I don’t fucking hate this too? You think this is easy for me? I’m trying, alright. I fucked up, but I’m trying.”

You laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Trying? Trying is telling me the truth. Trying is not keeping me in the dark while you run off to her—”

He cuts you off, stepping even closer, until you can smell the familiar scent of his cologne again, “You brought a fucking date to my game!”

“After we broke up,” You hiss, shoving a hand against his shoulder, “God fucking knows what you did with her while we were together.”

Rafe  grabs your wrist, pulling you back toward him. "Nothing happened with her," he snaps, his grip tightening for a second before he lets go, as if realizing he’s too close. "I never touched her."

You pull away, anger boiling over. "Does it even matter? You kept her close, closer than you kept me. You told her things! About us, like she’s some fucking therapist.” 

He reaches for you again, his hand hovering near your arm before he drops it. "I never meant for you to find out like that. I swear, I was trying to figure it all out—"

"Figure it out?!" You laugh, but it’s broken. "Rafe, you made me feel like I didn’t matter. Like I was some... some extra piece in your life. But with her? You told her everything. What was I to you?"

He shakes his head, frustration evident. "You were everything! You are everything. But I didn’t want to put you through it. All the shit with the team, with the offer—"

"That’s not your decision to make!" you shout, the words tearing through you. "You don’t get to choose what’s hard for me, what I can handle. I could’ve been there for you. We could’ve done it together, but you shut me out. And now you expect me to just—what? Let it go because you say you didn’t mean it?"

He stares at you, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched. You can see the conflict in his eyes, the same old battle he’s always fought—wanting you but not knowing how to let you in. His hands curl into fists at his sides, and for a moment, it looks like he might say something—something real. 

"Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?" he asks quietly, his voice almost pleading. "If you were hurting this much, why didn’t you—"

"Why didn’t I?!" You cut him off, tears brimming in your eyes now. "Because you didn’t give me a chance, Rafe! You made it clear you didn’t need me like that. I thought maybe if I just held on a little longer, you'd let me in. You chose her, Rafe. You always choose her.”

“I didn’t choose her,” he says through gritted teeth, and there’s something desperate in his tone. “I’m standing right here. You think I like seeing you like this?”

“Then why do you keep doing it? Why can’t you just let me go?”

“I can’t,” he says, his voice strained, like the words are being ripped out of him. He grabs your hand, softer this time, “Because I’m still in love with you. I’ve never stopped.”

You remember all the half-truths, all the nights you waited for him to choose you.

You shake your head, “You only love me when it’s convenient. When you need me.”

“I told her things because I didn’t want to hurt you,” Rafe snaps, “I thought I was protecting you, keeping shit from getting messy.”

You laugh bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief. “Protecting me? You let her in, told her things you should’ve told me. You think that’s protecting me?”

His face contorts with something like regret, but you’re not sure if it’s enough to change anything. His chest is heaving, eyes wide and wild.

But then he just blurts out, “You kissed Elijah.”

You freeze.

Of all the things he could’ve said.

“You think that’s why we’re here right now?”

He doesn’t answer, just stares at you like you’ve ripped something out of him. Like you kissing someone else, even for a second kills him.

“You were already gone. We weren’t together.”

He flinches, “So, what? You kissed him to get back at me?”

“What the hell does Elijah have to do with any of this. You know what? Yes, I did. Because you didn’t even fight for us.”

“I didn’t fight for us?” he growls. “You broke up with me without even giving me a chance to explain. You didn’t even let me try to fix it. You just walked away.”

You ended things so quickly, so coldly, because you couldn’t handle the idea of fighting for someone who wasn’t fighting back. You didn’t even give him the chance to explain. 

“You think I didn’t want to fight for you?” His voice cracks, and for the first time, you see real pain behind his eyes. “I was trying to keep my shit together, trying to balance everything, and I fucked up, okay? But I never wanted to lose you.”

“Don’t fucking— “

“I watched you kiss him. I couldn’t fucking look away.” He interrupts it physically hurts him to admit it. “I was right there, front and center, like an idiot. And I still needed you after that. Do you know what that felt like? Watching you with him, like I didn’t even exist anymore?” He swallows, his jaw working overtime as he tries to hold it together, but you can see the cracks forming. “It was like everything that I didn’t say, everything I was too fucking scared to admit... it didn’t even matter. You just moved on.”

“Elijah doesn’t matter, okay? He never mattered. But you—” You pause, the words dying in your throat, because you don’t want to say it, don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deep he’s cut you. But you say it anyway. “You’re the one who made me feel like I didn’t matter. You don’t get it, do you?” Your voice is hoarse, worn from fighting, from trying to make him understand something he’s never been willing to face. “This isn’t about Elijah or Sofia or any of that. It’s about you. It’s about how you make me feel like I’m always one step behind, always waiting for you to choose me when I shouldn’t have to beg for it.”

His eyes well up, and for the first time, you see it — those emotions he’s kept locked away for so long. His lips tremble as he tries to say something, but the words get stuck, like he’s choking on everything he’s never been able to say before.

“I know,” he finally whispers, voice breaking. “I know it’s my fault.” His hands fall to his sides, defeated, and the tears spill over. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to see me like this… weak.”

Your chest tightens as you watch him, his face crumpling in a way you’ve never seen. This man who was always so put together, so guarded, unraveling right in front of you. You never thought you'd see him cry — not like this. Not in front of you. 

He takes a shaky breath, his voice barely a whisper now. “You were always so strong. So… so good. And I was terrified, okay? Terrified that if I let you see the real me, the part of me that’s so fucked up, you’d leave. That you’d realize I’m not enough. Not for you.”

His words hit you like a punch in the gut, and suddenly you’re not as angry as you thought you’d be. You’re just... tired.

“Rafe…” you whisper, but the words stick in your throat, caught between wanting to comfort him and wanting to protect yourself.

“I know I fucked up,” he continues, his voice breaking with every word. “I pushed you away because I didn’t know how to be what you needed. I didn’t know how to let you in. And now you’re gone, and it’s my fault.” He wipes at his face, but the tears keep coming, his chest heaving with the weight of it all. “But I love you. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I’m begging you for one more chance. Please.”

You don’t know what to say. You’ve dreamed about this moment — him finally opening up, letting you see him. But now that it’s happening, it doesn’t feel the way you thought it would. You don’t feel victorious or relieved. You just feel... sad.

You want to believe that he’s changed, that this time will be different. But then you remember all the nights you spent alone, waiting for him to come home.

“I don’t know if I can do this again,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can go through this with you, only to end up back here. Hurt. Broken.”

“I’ll change,” he says desperately, stepping closer to you, his hands reaching out but stopping just short of touching you. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I can’t lose you, not like this. Please.” His voice cracks again, and for the first time, you see it — the fear in his eyes. He’s terrified. Terrified of losing you for good. 

But you’re terrified too. You’re scared of giving him your heart again, only for him to break it.

“You don’t get it. I can’t keep waiting for you to figure your shit out while I’m left in pieces. I deserve more than that. I deserve someone who isn’t afraid to love me the way I deserve.”

His face crumples again, and he swallows hard, trying to hold back the sobs threatening to break free. “You do,” he whispers. “You do deserve that. And I swear, I’ll be that for you. I’ll be better. Let me fix it,” he pleads, “Please.”

“Fix what?” you shake your head, “This isn’t something you can patch up with pretty words or promises. I don’t trust you. Do you get that? I don’t trust us. You say you love me, but love isn’t supposed to feel like this. It’s not supposed to make me feel like I’m breaking every time I look at you.”

His shoulders slump, and for a second, he looks almost boyish, like a child who’s just realized he’s ruined his favorite toy. “You’re everything to me. I thought I was protecting you, but I see now that I was just... I was just pushing you away. Let me try.”

You close your eyes, the tears finally slipping down your cheeks as you shake your head. “I don’t know if you can.”

“Please,” he whispers again, “Don’t leave me. I-I can’t do this without you.”

You don’t know who you are without him either. He’s been such a part of you, woven into your heart in ways that can’t just be undone. Your heart breaks all over again, because you’ve wanted to hear those words for so long — needed him to need you the way you needed him. But now? You already left.

You wipe at your face with the back of your hand, trying to calm yourself. You can’t fall apart now, not when you’re finally seeing things clearly.

“I’m not leaving because I don’t love you,” you say softly, each word feeling like a knife to your chest. “I’m leaving because I do. But I can’t keep waiting for you to be the person I need. I can’t keep putting myself through this. You had so many chances to let me in, and every time, you chose to shut me out.”

Rafe looks like he’s about to argue, but then his face crumples, his shoulders slumping forward as he covers his face with his hands. He’s breaking, right in front of you, and it takes every ounce of strength you have not to fall apart with him. He looks at you like you’ve just ripped his heart out of his chest. 

“God, I’m sorry,” he sobs, his voice muffled behind his hands. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

You swallow hard, your throat tightening as the tears keep coming. You’ve heard his apologies before — after every argument, every time he made you feel small and insignificant, he’d say he was sorry. But those words have lost their meaning.

“I know,” you whisper. “I know you’re sorry. But we’re not good for each other right now.”

“I love you,” he whispers, “I love you so fucking much.”

You bite your lip, tasting the salt of your own tears as you choke back a sob. “I know. And I love you too. 

[multifandomfanficss]

Don’t Stop My Heart

Tyler Owens x Reader

Prompt: You and Tyler take a road trip up to Iowa to catch some of the last tornadoes of the season, but he takes the teasing a little too far.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, mentions of car crashes, swerving, shitty ex boyfriends. No use of Y/N.

A/N: Hello! I didn’t proofread this one as many times as I usually do. I’m coming off a 4 and a half month writers block so I really just wanted to write and post while I was excited to do it. My job has been draining me as of late, so I’m trying to write when I get the impulse. I have so many Tyler ideas and no time to write them. Crossposted on my AO3 adriansglasses.

It was still fairly early, the sun was still rising. Last night you’d planned an impromptu trip up north to Iowa. It was about a 7 hour trip from Oklahoma, so you were on the road before 6. You were hoping to get there around noon. You didn’t love getting up that early, but Tyler promised he’d drive you and you could sleep in the truck. Tornado season was pretty much over aside from an isolated storm or two, but Iowa had been having very unusual storm activity all week. Tyler couldn’t resist hitting a couple more tornadoes in late August when the season was supposed to be pretty much over with.

You stayed awake for a little bit. You wanted to watch as you crossed into Missouri.

“Missouri welcomes you.” Tyler reads out loud.

“Yes! Finally!” You giggle.

“I didn’t realize you were such a big fan of Missouri.” Tyler comments.

“Oh, I’m not.” You pause, looking out your window.

“First you’re hypin’ her up, now you’re gonna disappoint her.” He jokes.

“I’m sorry, I’m sure Missouri’s fine, but I’m more excited about that.” You point to a Hardee’s down the street.

“Really? We’re crossin’ state lines and you’re gonna make me take you to Hardee’s? You can get Carl’s Jr. anytime you want back home. That’s basically the same thing.” He argues.

“Take that back! You’re just saying that because you’re a Texas boy! You’ve never had the luxury of Hardee’s.” You joke.

“If Carl’s Jr. is better, I’m not letting you pick where we eat for the rest of the trip.” Tyler puts on his turn signal and sighs.

“How is that fair? I’ve never eaten at this location. What if it sucks?” You laugh.

“You picked your Hardee’s hill and now you’re gonna die on it. Now keep your trap closed and tell me what’s good on the menu.” Tyler makes a pretend threatening face towards you as he pulls into the drive thru.

“How am I supposed to not talk and at the same time tell you what’s good?” You tease back.

“Hi welcome to Hardee’s, may I take your order?” The drive thru speaker cuts you off. Tyler shushes you and you giggle.

After getting your food you start unwrapping the straws and putting them in both drinks.

“Whatever score we give this we need to give it extra points to account for how good the curly fries would be if they were serving lunch.” You try to bargain, taking a bite.

“No, you can’t just change the rules after we already got our food, that’s cheating. Just because you’re from the north, doesn’t mean you can cheat me.” He argues. He continues driving, leaving behind the paved roads of the small town.

“You’re acting like I’m Canadian!” You giggle.

“Well, Upper Midwest is basically Canada. There’s literally a town in Iowa called Toronto!” He smirks, taking the last bite of his food, continuing to drive through the middle of nowhere Missouri, back onto the gravel roads through the soybean fields.

“Shut up!” You playfully hit his arm. He jokingly swerves and your stomach flips. You gasp air. “Tyler, knock it off.”

“You’re the one who hit me.” He pleas innocent.

“I didn’t hit you that hard.” You defend.

“I thought you were gonna sleep on the drive.” He says, smirking.

“I might later, I’m not tired.” You answer, falling for his bit. He does a big fake yawn.

“Well if you’re not tired, I might take a little nap.” He lightly swerves again.

“Tyler, this isn’t funny!” You plead.

“What? Oh. Do you mind watching the road? We woke up so early and I’m pretty tired.” He jokes before swerving again. He’s taking the joke way too far. Once was one thing, twice was too much. You start hyperventilating.

“Tyler, STOP!” You yell, tears starting to come to your eyes.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, it’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll stop.” He has a concerned look on his face. He knew he had taken it too far.

“It’s not funny.” You cry.

“You’re right, it’s not funny. I would never-a done it if I’d known it would make you feel unsafe. I do it all the time on chases and that don’t seem to bother you. I didn’t realize-“

“That’s different! The roads and the fields when there’s no storms are different! We’re on an actual road! What- what if there were other people?! What if you hit somebody?! What if a sherif saw?!” You say, obviously still panicking. Tyler decides to pull over.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I was way outta line, but we’re in the middle of nowhere. There’s no cars or tractors around. We’re safe.” His voice is soft. “Just breathe, Darlin’. Just you and me.” He takes your hand, rubbing small circles in it. “I feel bad. I wanted a reaction outta you, but not like this. I never want you to feel unsafe with me.”

“I know.” You were still struggling to breathe. Tyler places your hand on his chest to feel the rise and fall of his breathing. He hopes you can sync yours with his own.

“Take it easy, sweetheart. You’re okay. Feel me breathing? We’re both okay.” He places a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry… it’s not you. When I was in high school I had a crazy ex boyfriend who used to swerve in town just to scare me because he knew I was afraid of car crashes. He almost killed us a couple times, I think. I guess no matter how much time’s passed, dumb high school bullshit still affects me into my adult years.”

“Hey, that’s not okay. It’s not dumb bullshit. It’s trauma.” You lean over the console to be closer to him and he wraps his arms around you. “I would never put you in danger like that for the sake of a joke.” You could tell his blood was boiling on the inside, but he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn’t want to upset you more. He knew this was about you feeling better, not him.

“We gotta get going if we wanna try to make it by 1.” You wipe your tears.

“I don’t care how long we’re pulled over. Hell, we can even turn around if you’re not up to anymore. I don’t care about the chase. I care about you.” He moves your hair out of your face. “I can call the rest of the team and tell them to turn around right now or go without us.”

“What happened to Mr. If You Feel It, Chase It?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood. He looks into your eyes. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him so serious.

“The only feeling that matters is the one I get when I’m with you.“

Tears start creeping up again. These tears aren’t bad, though.

“Tyler, I’m in love with you.” It just slips out, like the easiest confession you’ve ever made in your life. You both knew there was something there, but neither one of you were willing to say it. It had always been heavy flirting, awkward mornings after cuddling in the only bed left at the motel, a drunk kiss or two.

After a moment of staring in silence Tyler kisses you. Everything happened in slow motion, but in truth it was probably just the adrenaline slowing everything down. Tyler wasted no time in kissing you. It was the quickest decision he’s ever made. You don’t know how long the kiss was. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough. You’d swear off oxygen for the rest of your life if it meant this moment never had to end. You’d been pinning after your best friend for so long and finally the moment was here.

“I’m so glad you said something because you’re one of the best navigators I know and I really didn’t wanna risk losing you from the team by telling you I was in love with you.” Tyler laughs.

“Is that the only reason you didn’t tell me?” You ask.

“No, I was scared. Losing you from the team would be a bummer, but I couldn’t lose you from my life. We see a lot of loss in this business. Whenever I thought about it, the thing I couldn’t stand to lose most was you.” He runs his fingers through your hair, moving to cup your cheek.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

It was nice to finally say it. You’d waited a long time to tell him.

“Let’s get back on the road. This time just don’t stop my heart.” You give a small laugh.

“You’re safe with me.”

“I know. You’re not like those other guys, Ty.”

You hold hands and rest on his other arm as he drives. He’s lucky he’s good at driving with one hand because he’s happy to see about 30 minutes later you’ve finally fallen asleep. Today was going to be a long day, but Tyler knew forcing the team to wake up so early was worth it. He may have had to bribe Boone 20 bucks to drive the other car up with Lily, but at least he didn’t have a third wheel sitting in the back seat. Tyler didn’t get a lot of alone time with you. Now he had 7 hours of it. It was worth it.

[floralcyanide]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪɴᴅ — ᴄᴀʟʟᴜᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇʀ

callum turner x fem!reader (nsfw)

In which a chance reconnection with your ex, Callum Turner, brings you to his hotel room- and he talks you through more than just your breakup.

✣ warnings: smut, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, language, female anatomy described, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, mutual orgasm, love confessions

✣ word count: 2.7k

✣ author’s note: I wrote half of this weeks ago and just finished it. hope ya'll enjoy ((:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

based on this song | the death of peace of mind - bad omens

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

The last thing on your mind today was running into your ex, Callum Turner, yet here you are. 

He’s sitting adjacent to you in the script reading session for your new movie- and you had no idea of the cast until today, so seeing him was an absolute surprise. You try your best to remain neutral and keep yourself from looking at him, but you find yourself glancing up at him frequently. He looks great, of course, which makes it hard not to stare. You remind yourself Callum is an ex for a reason and focus on your turns to read the script. Callum had broken up with you because he had found himself unsure of his feelings and hadn’t elaborated further on it before leaving. So, you have struggled for a while with self-confidence and identity. It’s not entirely his fault, but not knowing how he felt for you during your relationship did something to you emotionally and mentally. 

When the reading concluded, you tried your best to make a clean getaway, but Callum’s long strides and quick maneuvering skills got him to you in the hallway in record time. A gentle hand is placed on your shoulder in the sea of cast and crew exiting.

“Long time no see,” Callum flashes his brilliant smile at you once you turn to face him.

“Yeah,” you half-smile, “Sure has.”

Callum stares intently into your eyes for a few seconds longer than usual before he notices he hasn’t responded. He visibly shakes his head out of his mess of thoughts, “How have you been?”

“Could be better,” you shrug, “But I’ll be fine, always am.”

You keep your answers brief, with as little to go on as possible. 

“Would you like to meet at my hotel for coffee later? There’s a cafe in the lobby that’s pretty good,” Callum scratches the back of his neck, “I just need to talk to you about something and would rather do it somewhere other than the corridor,” he laughs nervously.

“Oh,” you purse your lips, momentarily looking down at your feet before answering, “I don’t know, Callum. Is it really a good idea for us to talk outside the set?”

Callum clears his throat, “Well. I was hoping to talk to you about that, actually. See, I didn’t tell you everything when we broke up about how I felt, and I think you deserve to know, ‘s all.”

You sigh, “I suppose knowing wouldn’t hurt, even though it’s been a year already. Why didn’t you come to me sooner?”

“I was afraid,” Callum admits, “I thought you hated me.”

You frown, “I don’t hate you, Callum. I promise.”

Callum brightens, “So you’ll meet me at the coffee shop? Tomorrow, maybe? Ten in the morning?”

“Fine,” you agree, “Tomorrow it is.”

Callum gives you the hotel’s address and leaves you in the hallway, turning as he walks away to wave goodbye.

You’re laying in bed that night staring at the ceiling. You still love Callum; don’t get yourself wrong. But if he didn’t feel the same, why entertain it? Besides, it seemed like he never really felt that way for you, and that’s why he dipped last year. At the same time, however, you don’t know that for sure because Callum didn’t tell you much. You guess you’ll find out more tomorrow. You roll over and will yourself to sleep.

You definitely need the caffeine upon waking the following day from tossing and turning all night. You get ready and take a cab from your apartment to the hotel Callum is staying at, nervous the entire ride there. When you arrive at the cafe, Callum is sitting on a couch by the window, aimlessly scrolling through his phone, waiting for you. He hopes you come and don’t change your mind.

“You made it!” Callum grins as you walk in, and he stands up to greet you with a kiss on the cheek. 

Your entire body burns at the contact, but you try your best to push your feelings aside, “Of course I did.”

The two of you order and return to the couch, where you hesitantly sit beside Callum, his thigh touching yours. You find it familiar and comforting but, at the same time, very nerve-wracking. 

“So,” Callum turns to face you, “Do you mind me explaining everything? I promise you don’t owe me your time; I just feel you deserve to know why I left.”

“I don’t mind,” you say honestly, “In fact, I’d feel better hearing it.”

“Alright,” Callum nods, “To be honest, I was scared. I had feelings for you I had never felt for anyone before, and I didn’t know how to handle them.”

You focus on Callum’s words, carefully turning them over in your head, “I understand.”

“I loved you, you know,” Callum rubs his palms on his thighs, a nervous laugh leaving his lips, “And I fucked it up.”

You stare at him wordlessly, unsure of how to respond.

“Still do, actually. Love you.”

Your ears begin to ring, and you almost don’t hear your names being called for your coffee orders until Callum stands up and walks over to retrieve them. He loved you? Still loves you, rather? Your facial expression- one of shock- is still apparent when Callum sits back down next to you and offers you your drink.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, “I just didn’t expect that.”

“You don’t have to return those feelings, by the way. I just needed to tell you that’s how I felt then and still feel now.”

“Despite leaving me a little lost a year ago, a part of me still loves you too, Cal. But I don’t know what to do with that.”

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. We don’t have to do anything if that’s what you wish.”

“How do I know you really love me?” you blurt, shocking yourself with your words.

Callum puts a hand on your knee, “You can trust me, or I can prove it to you.”

Clutching your untouched drink in your hand, you wonder what he could mean by that.

“Prove it how?”

“You know a thing or two about that, I think,” Callum says suggestively, and your body burns like fire again.

You scoff, “I do. But how do I know you won’t just up and leave again after? Hmm?”

“I won’t,” Callum grabs your unoccupied hand, “I won’t this time, I promise. I don’t think I could leave you again.”

“Okay, then,” you admit defeat, “Show me just how much you really love me, Mr. Turner.”

Callum leads you to the elevator, where he presses the floor button and stands beside you, eyeing you up and down. When the doors close, he pulls you to his side as he finishes his coffee. You rest your head on his arm, sipping your own drink. Callum’s hand grips your waist, his touch hot even through your clothes. You're nearly shaking with nerves when you reach the top floor. The two of you had your go-arounds while together, of course. But it was never anything emotionally charged. You’re hoping Callum really does show you how much he loves you this time and doesn’t leave you hanging. He lets you follow him to his room, where he fumbles to unlock the door with his phone. Callum heads to the windows to close the drapes, his back muscles rippling under his shirt, much to your delight. He turns around and catches your gaze, maintaining eye contact with you as he returns to where you stand. Callum wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to him after you sit your coffee down. He is taller than you, so you have to look up at him when standing so close. A closed-lip smile spreads on his face as he takes in your features. Callum pushes a stray strand of hair out of your face before leaning in.

“Do you want this?” he asks, his lips barely brushing against yours.

“Yes,” you whisper, “I do want this. Prove it to me.”

Callum captures your lips with his finally, and everything negative you felt about your relationship falls away. The comfort you’ve always found in him flows back into you as he guides his tongue along your bottom lip. Callum’s hands find your hair, where they tangle themselves in your locks for leverage. You allow him to explore your mouth softly as if it was his first time in uncharted territory. Your arms are around him, and your palms are settled on his back as he slowly moves the two of you over to the giant bed in the middle of the suite. You sit on the edge of it as Callum pulls his shirt off. He’s a little more muscular than the last time you saw him. You drink in his broad shoulders and toned chest, his thick biceps resting by your head as his fists dig into the mattress on either side of your legs. Callum is leaning over you, his demeanor shifting to something more dominant. He kisses you again before his hand moves to your chin, tilting your head to meet his gaze.

“Go lay on the pillows and get ready for me.”

A surge of excitement rushes through your veins as you nod, moving backward to where the pillows sit at the top of the bed. You peel off your shirt and jeans, kicking them off the side of the bed onto the floor where your shoes are haphazardly lying. Callum climbs over you, taking in the sight of you. He lays beside you, patting his spread, underwear-clad thighs for you to sit. You oblige, his chest pressed to your back as you relax into his embrace. Callum’s large hands rub over your hips and legs, his skin hot against yours. He buries his nose into your neck, leaving a trail of kisses along your shoulder and up your throat. Callum then lightly traces your jaw with his tongue before he reaches your ear, nibbling the shell of it. His hands travel from your thighs to your hips, all the way up your sides, until they reach your covered breasts. He squeezes them as he sucks a mark behind your ear, out of sight. You squirm lightly in his lap, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of his teeth on your sensitive skin. Moving your hair out of the way from your ears, Callum continues his assault of bites on the back of your neck as his fingers slip underneath the cups of your bra. You hum as his fingers toy with your nipples, your head tossed back against his shoulder as he does so. This gives him more access to your neck, where he leaves open-mouthed kisses on the skin there. You feel him grow hard against your tailbone as he twists and rubs your sensitive nubs, eliciting moans from you.

“I miss the way you say my name,” Callum whispers in your ear, letting one of his hands travel back down to your stomach, where he slips a hand beneath the band of your underwear, “Say it.”

“Callum,” you gasp as his fingers ghost your heat, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Just like that, doll,” Callum grins into your shoulder, where his lips press to your skin.

He helps you out of your underwear, pulling it down your legs until you’re able to kick them off. Callum tosses one of your legs over his thigh, giving him easier access to you. You reach behind your back to unhook your bra, throwing it off the side of the bed.

“Kind of unfair that I’m the only naked one,” you frown.

“Be patient, I want to play with you first,” Callum kisses your cheek.

He prods your lips open with two of his fingers, allowing you to suck them in. You lave your tongue around them, coating them with your spit enough for Callum to be satisfied, “Good girl,” he coos.

He then gently circles your clit with his two slicked fingers, and your hips buck involuntarily. He uses his other arm to press you firmly against him. Callum continues to play with the bundle of nerves before letting a finger test your entrance to gauge how wet you’ve become. He’s able to slip a finger inside without struggle, curling it against the familiar spot that makes you groan. As he adds another finger, you grip Callum’s arm as his fingertips massage your g spot. 

“Callum, please,” you whine.

“Please, what?” Callum feels himself getting painfully harder against your back at the sounds you’re making, “Gotta use your words.”

“Show me how much you love me,” you beg, “Fuck me already.”

“Impatient, are we?” Callum smirks before removing his fingers from you and putting them in his mouth this time, relishing the wetness of your cunt, “God, the way you taste,” he moans.

Callum moves you over and off his lap so he can remove his pants and underwear before hovering over you. He braces himself on his arms on either side of your head, bringing his face to yours, “Are you sure you want this?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his face and looking him in the eye, “I want this.”

“Not that your begging wasn’t enough; I just needed to hear you say it,” he jokes, lining himself up to your entrance.

You playfully smack his chest before digging your nails into it as he pushes inside you slowly. You wrap an arm around his neck, tangling your fingers into his hair. Callum fully seats himself inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. You wrap a leg around his waist, pulling him closer to you. Callum focuses on breathing properly, as your clenching around him makes it hard not to pound you into the mattress. You wiggle your hips a little, letting him know he could move. Callum holds your hips up, moving your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle. He pulls out just enough to thrust back in, gaining a steady rhythm. The noises you let out just urge Callum to go faster and harder as he kisses along your thighs.

“I love you,” Callum says, biting down on your thigh and causing you to yelp, which makes him grin.

“I love you too,” you say breathlessly, your hands gripping his biceps for leverage.

“Do you believe me when I say it now?” Callum bites his lip, feeling your walls clenching harder around him.

You’re close, and he can feel it. He reaches between your bodies and presses a thumb to your clit, rubbing tight circles against it.

“Yes,” you say, almost illegible, “Fuck, I believe you, Cal.”

“Good,” he pants, sweat beading on his forehead.

Your fingernails dig into his muscles as you feel yourself about to let go, your stomach tightening into a knot. Callum feels his orgasm creeping up as he snaps his hips faster against your ass, his grip on your thighs almost bruising. Your orgasm hits suddenly, like a tsunami of pleasure taking over your senses. Your body shakes as Callum’s own climax surges through him, your convulsing cunt milking his cock. You’re both gasping for air as Callum lets your back fall against the bed as he pulls out, collapsing next to you. 

“That was…”

“Amazing?” Callum turns his head to look at you, 

“Yeah,” you’re quick to pull the duvet over you as your sweat cools on your skin, “Better than any time before, honestly.”

“Agreed,” Callum puts an arm behind his head to rest on, “I’m still sorry for not telling you how I felt. I didn’t really know what it was at the time.”

“It’s okay now, Cal,” you roll over on your side, putting a hand on his chest, “You don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

Callum kisses the top of your head, “Okay. I won’t.”

The next day, when the script is read over again, tensions are definitely not as high. You don’t struggle as much with your lines, and being around Callum is easier. You’re glad it all worked out; maybe this time, it’ll last without confusion.

[gtgbabie0]

-Sevika x Reader

Synopsis: {A slow and tender night with your girlfriend Sevika after a stressful week}

For my other works my Masterlist is here <3

Enjoy my lovelies 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

Sevika was never much of a paperwork type of woman. In the past, it was all knuckles, bared teeth, and fight talk—but now? Now, it was all papers, politics, and polite spoken words. Well, she was still working on that last part.

Truthfully, she didn’t mind it. No matter how many times she would roll her eyes and scoff in these council meetings, she preferred them much more than the jobs she used to work—especially when she got to come home to such a pretty sight.

Her sweet lady, the light of her life… you.

You followed her around like a lost puppy in the first couple of days, her ‘assistant’ they said, sent to show her around and to make sure she knew the ins and outs of being a councilwoman. It was annoying, to begin with, you were all bright smiles and starry-eyed full of hope, so soft and sweet, a pain in her ass, she called you.

Then Sevika found herself dreaming of you, thinking of you when the councillors argued amongst themselves endlessly—the shape of your lips, the colour of your eyes—and she fell quickly, completely hook, line and sinker.

Now you were her favourite part of her days and on a day like today, she really needed you. This week had been shit to put it kindly, really fucking shit.

Sevika walks through your shared bedroom, her brows knitted together as she shrugs off her blazer with a huff before hanging it up— her eyes immediately softening when they fall upon you, sitting oh so prettily at your vanity which she had put together for you.

“How was it?” You ask, glancing over at her through the reflection of the mirror— the warm light of the lamp dusting over your face.

At the sound of your voice, she sighs, somewhere in between relief and frustration. “Hard.”

“Ah, the joys of the council I suppose.” You reply, swiping your index finger into a glass jar to collect the cream before applying it evenly to your face. “It’ll get worse before it gets better.” You add, rubbing the moisturiser into your skin.

She never really understood why you had so many expensive oils and creams, they all did the same thing if you ask her— but she loved watching your little routine, even helping you on occasions as an excuse to get her hands on you, not that she really needed one.

"You're making it sound as if this isn't hell already," she mutters, her voice twinged with humour. She walks over to where you’re sitting— her fingers gently curling underneath your jaw to tilt your head backwards slightly.

“Maybe you just need some pampering?” Your playful words are spoken through a breathy giggle that bubbles up out of you and Sevika would be lying if she said the sound didn’t make her heart sing with a warmth that bleeds through her chest.

It was a very enticing idea, after all, you were the one with all the sweet-scented, fancy and quite frankly overpriced face creams… besides she couldn’t deny you, ever.

“I don’t think I get a say do I?” She tries her best to act deadpanned but the smirk that ghosts against her lips betrays her completely.

“Nope.” With that you’re standing up from your vanity, her hand drops from your face to rest over the curve of your hip as you collect the coloured jars before walking over to the bed with a soft, “Come on, I promise you’ll sleep better.”

Sevika soon finds herself sitting up against the headboard of the bed, a pillow pressed behind her back as you straddle her thighs— this is just what she needed after a long week, to have you pressed up against her like this.

“You already looked relaxed,” you note, letting your eyes rove across her face— her brows unfurled and her eyes full of tenderness, the same tenderness she has in her touch as she rubs your hip soothingly.

“Course I am, got you in my lap.” Her usual gruff tone is a lot more gentle, a hint of smugness in her voice as relishes in the sight of you— the plushness of your thighs pressed against either side of her own, the way your pyjamas fit against your soft curves. She’s a lucky woman to have you all to herself.

A small amused hum passes your lips as you busy yourself with opening the moisture, trying to ignore the way her thumb brushes along your hipbone— although your attempts are pointless because she can read you like an open book and her touch always renders you completely breathless.

You swipe a small amount of face cream on the tip of your finger before applying it to Sevika’s face— brushing your fingertips over her cheeks and along her jaw in a way that has her melting into your hards, her eyes fluttering close as she makes a noise of contentment.

Sevika swears your hands are magic, they have to be, there’s no other reason as to how they have the power to completely unravel her, no it must be magic.

“It smells like you.” She whispers, leaning into the palm of your hand as your thumb caresses her cheek.

“Mm, it’s my favourite one… I use it all the time.” To your words she hums in acknowledgment, a knowing look crossing her face as her lips quirk up into a smile. She knows it’s your favourite, it has been before she ever walked into your life and it’s become so distinctively you— something that made her strangely feel at home.

And right here, with you… is her home, without a single shadow of a doubt.

Her skin feels like silk beneath your fingertips as you continue to trace mindless patterns along the contours of her face, her eyes watching you with an almost reverent look in them.

“C’mere pretty girl,” Sevika mumbles, cupping your jaw in her hand before drawing you closer to her slowly until your lips meet in a tender kiss— your hands instinctively resting against her shoulders as her own falls back to your hip.

Your body relaxes into hers, the familiar taste of her lips that you have been starved of all day brings a sense of comfort and you reciprocate the kiss just as lovingly almost needily— letting your fingertips brush through the hairs on the nape of her neck, a feeling that makes her groan softly.

“Are you feeling more relaxed now?” You ask in between kisses that begin to taper off slowly as she brushes her lips along your warm cheek— smiling into your soft skin, taking in the sweet scent of vanilla that clings to you, gods you might just be the death of her.

“Mhm, thank you, angel,” Sevika responds, genuine gratitude dripping from her tone as her hand squeezes your hip, pulling you a little closer to her before rubbing your back soothingly— the warmth of her embrace wraps around you like a blanket, one you never want to shed yourself off.

“My pleasure, as always.” You reply, face buried into the crook of her shoulder causing your words to be slightly muffled as she holds you just a little tighter, your presence grounding her and as you nuzzle yourself further into her neck it really hits her, just how much she has missed you— Sevika really needs to find the time to fit herself into your nightly routines more often.

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[simpjaes]

hi i just stalked the crap our of your page and HOLY CRAPTHIS IS MY NEW GUILTY PLEASURE

can i req seeing how enha hyung line would take care of you after railing you soooooo hard????

hyung line + aftercare after very intense sex

warning: uh....painful sex, fainting, dissociation, anal, implied squirting, degradation, idk just a lot of intense sex stuff ig

note: it's a lil messy, i've been running errands all day and am using this to push myself back into the writing brain :D

★ heeseung:

what i wanna say is that depending on the circumstances, he'd probably throw a towel at your head and walk away to shower alone but we all know heeseung is so much more than a careless fuck boy for the most part. in my opinion, if he's got you where he wants you and he's allowed to fuck you as hard as he can, rendering you faint, dizzy, and almost dissociated, he either has some sort of feelings for you, you're someone else's girlfriend and he wants you to like him more, or you're already in a committed relationship lmfao

and you know, you thought that after he managed to pull three orgasms out of you, fucked all three of your holes, and managed to get you all twisted up for him to cum in places he definitely isn't supposed to, you really thought he was done.

but then he chuckles, taking one look at you once his own mind clears from his orgasm and it's like...how could he not just continue to fuck you? you look so pretty already fucked open, lying there with tears in your eyes and shaking?

you'd hear something akin to "you're gonna take a bit more, open those eyes back up for me," and "i can tell you can take it, just keep your eyes on me."

it's kind of pathetic, actually, how you really do just lay there and take it until he says you're finished.

so, yeah, when you're with someone like heeseung, there's always a thought in your head about if he'll even take care of you at all after the fact. at least, the thought is there before he breaks your brain. even if every time before this where he's needed to bring you back, he has without question and with a voice from him that is always so rare to hear.

just kinda hard to imagine someone who fucks you near to the brink of passing out, sometimes actually passing out, finding it within themselves to take care of you as deeply as they fuck you, yknow?

but, time and time again he has to remind you that he's not only capable but willing to make sure you're well taken care of. after all, you do your part in taking it, so he'll do his part in giving you what you need too. only after scooping half the mess with his fingers and feeding it to you, of course.

after that though? he's very much hauling you off for a warm shower and tenderly washing you. very very gentle with his hands, knowing how sensitive your holes are. he'd compliment you, he'd praise you for letting him absolutely destroy that ass, and ultimately, lay you to sleep next to him regardless of what the relationship status is, making sure you're well aware that he's not just using you for pleasure. he's very much appreciative of what you bring to his bedroom, and there's no reason to pretend he isn't.

☆ jay:

i like to think that jay would have you in fucking pain and barely able to stand on your own two feet by the time he allows you to close your legs with deep groans as you try to catch your breath.

honestly, the stamina this man has and actively spends on you could render anyone immobile for at least a week with the way he snaps his hips and holds you down from wiggling away in sensitivity. and man, the things he'd fucking say to you through it. so degrading, so controlling and dismissive, entirely fucking insulting. you're shocked time and time again that even while knowing it's just sex talk, it still hurts your feelings every single time.

then again, he's aware of that. but you're so goddamn pretty when you're crying and moaning, it drives him insane to know you endure it for his pleasure.

you're soaked by the time it's over and done with, he's soaked, and honestly the swollen marks against your ass still burn intensely when he rolls you over on your belly to get a good look at his work.

always with a breathy "aw, baby, i really fucked you up this time, huh?" or a little "took it so well, you still can't even focus your eyes on me, can you?" before rubbing any and every pained mark he left on you.

after his own brain clears of the sex-fog, he'd wrap you up, really warm and tightly in his arms as if his hug would wipe away any of the spit and cum drying between your bodies, as if it could mask all of those insults he flung at you. still, he'd be fluttering hundreds of kisses against your neck and ears, whispering little compliments about how pretty you are when you're barely able to keep your eyes open, about how much he adores you, and how often he wishes you'd believe these words over the silly orgasm-fueled insults.

still whispering, throughout the entire session of his care after the fact. always loving that you let him harm you as long as he's healing you just as good. and he does, truly, with the back rubs and the showers, tons upon tons of sweet kisses. constant praise. he'd put your lotion on you and rub it in thoughtfully, occasionally some medicated cream if his fingernails dug in a little too deep.

always always always holds you against his chest when you drift off to sleep, making sure any pain in your body feels more like love than anything else, and promising time and time again that he'll make sure you always fall asleep knowing he loves you, and that he doesn't at all think you're a fuck-doll, that he wouldn't let his friends have their turn way you.

(i am madly in love with him, pls look away and stop thinking of him now thank u)

★sunghoon:

ah, sunghoon. yeah. sunghoon. this man would leave you a fucking mess of tears and drool, edging you for hours. hell, he edges you for fucking days just because he can. not at all because you've been bad, or a brat, or have managed to make him jealous.

this is one of those days. you could tell he came home with that look in his eye, grabbing your face and practically forcing you to lift on your toes just so he could whisper the planned torture against your tongue.

so, after the second day with you whining, fucking begging to be released from your prison of sensitivity and lust, maybe he gives it to you. maybe he wakes you up from a deep and much needed sleep with fingers harshly pinching your clit.

ah, the pain. that alone was enough to make you cum, and you did. unfortunately, he didn't like that very much so your new torture was to get off as many times as he expected you to.

after about, what, the seventh orgasm? you stopped counting, it was closer to eleven in the afternoon and he'd been giving it to you for hours, all over that little mishap.

an eight orgasm knocked your ass out, exhausted, spread out, fucked senseless. you could barely hold your head up, but he does it for you. first by your hair, but noting the look in your eye indicating that he really needs to stop by this point.

and sunghoon is the type that would stop at that point. something in his brain clicking and forcing him back into that perfect boyfriend persona, where the only thing in the world he wants to do is make you happy.

and he knows it's not that you're not happy right now, it's mostly just the fact that he thinks he broke you're brain and you forgot how to feel anything other than his cock ramming inside of you.

so, he'd remind you time and time again. how his hands can do so much more than choke you, and how his lips can be sweet and less bruising against your temple when you really need it. you'd feel entirely loved when he's taking care of the mess he caused. both physically and mentally for you. needing to bring you back to reality with soft touches and tight holds.

it worked every time, because by the next morning, you'd just be moaning and groaning about how if he hadn't of make you breakfast in bed, you may have very well slashed his tires for the amount of suffering he put you through.

☆ jake:

bro is taking care of you not only after sex, but the entire time during sex. there's not a single moment where he's intentionally trying to hurt you, or forcing you to take more than you can handle.

it just....kind of happens on nights like these. where his hands are clinging, and his throat is begging, and your body can't say no. with his pretty puppy dog eyes asking if he can try anal, with his fingers slamming too deep, with his grip on you so tight you know it'll bruise, with his ability to knock the breath out of you and not give it back until you're nearly blue in the face.

yeah, most of the intense shit is accidental, but god is he taking care of you. always apologizing but continuing, always promising to make it up to you, always feeding into your ego more than his own, reminding you that the pain his body lends only comes from the immense amount of need he has to practically crawl inside of you and live there forever.

it's kind of amazing actually, that someone who starts so gentle can also end with blood in his mouth from bitten lips and swelling bruises all over your body.

he tends to you hand and foot. carrying you where ever you need to go even if just to your closet three feet from the bed, dresses you, undresses you, fixes your hair, does your skin care, all while kissing the bruises and ignoring the fact that he knows he'll never have enough of you, and you're probably always gonna be in pain when he loses his control like that.

[strawb3heart]

Love actually!

Part 1

warning: just a bit of swearing maybe, a bit short??

Summary: The one where Lando Norris lies to a girl he just met who happens to then turn into his friend or something else..

As the days went by, Lando Norris found the perfect company. Although when he arrived in the small town he wasn't looking to find someone, it turns out that sometimes things don't go as planned, but much better. "If it's not too much of an intrusion, do you plan to stay here long?"

"Why? Do you want me to leave already?" the boy said in a playful tone causing the girl to shake her head laughing "Your work sounds serious, that's why I wanted to know"he gave her a small smile while still shaking his head

"In that case, I still have a couple of weeks free" ​​the weight of the lie was increasing little by little, making the brown-haired boy reconsider whether he should tell the truth

"If so, would you like to visit the lighthouse? It's a bit far and the walk might be hard for some, but if you're up for it, Elio would like you to come with us." Y/n explained, noticeably nervous under the man's attentive gaze

"Only him?" that comment made the blonde give her a confused look "Only Elio would like me to accompany you?" After that, a nervous giggle escaped the girl's lips "I think we both know the answer to that, Max"

When their eyes met, he knew it was the perfect moment, the moment he was waintig for, so he slowly cupped the face of the girl between his hands, leaning to give her a sweet and soft kiss.

"Then, I can't disappoint both of you, I'll go with you" And, as he said, Norris was more than thrilled to go hiking with Y/n and her little one.

What he didn't knew was how that was going to end. And now, the "date" was just a completely bittersweet blur.

Perhaps he forgot what the lie would cost him or maybe he just didn't think it through. But now, it was sure that neither Y/n or Elio would want him in his life.

The date was supposed to be a fun getaway enjoying the sunset and the afternoon, but when a group of fans recognized him, everything shattered.

"You lied to me" the tone in her voice was low, showing just how broken the girl seemed. "Y/n, it wasn't like that, I just, I didn't know if you would want me near you or Elio if you had already known who am I"

"Lando, you cannot just invent a name and a fucking fairytale of how your life is" She yelled while the man seemed to be taken aback, she never acted like that before "I need to take care of Elio, guard his security, and you just proven me that you don't even care about that"

"Elio freaked out when all those people appeared, couldn't you think of my child's sake before creating this kind of lie you thought you'd pull through"

Lando Norris remembered every single word the blonde had said to him. And that memory seemed to be haunting him constantly. He would give the entire world just to go back to the day it all started, to change how he had the audacity to lie.

But deep down, she knew the girl was right. The little one started crying just as all the flashes of the cameras and the yelling started. Even when he tried to shush everyone, sensing the fear in Y/n's and Elio's eyes.

Now, Norris had only one day left in Portofino. And he knew exactly what he was going to do

"You shouldn't be here" Y/n said in a rather dry way "I'm aware that I messed this up, seriously Y/n" he started to talk "But I have to tell you the truth, all of it"

"I traveled here because of the chaotic environment, and I was just looking for a relaxing holiday. But when I met you and this little one" He said squeezing softly Elio's hand "Everithing changed, and I didn't want to drag all that chaos to our new friendship"

"I know I did the wrong thing in lying to you, and I guess I was also afraid you wouldn't want to date someone who's constantly involved in senseless dramas."

"If you can forgive me, and I really hope you can, I'll be here until noon, you know where to find me"

Saying that, Norris was just about to leave when a cold hand grabbed his arm, avoiding him to continue walking.

"You cannot just say that and leave, Norris" she said while laughing softly "I understand you, at least I think I do, but if we want to make this work, we need to avoid lies"

"Whatever you say ma'am, your wish is my command" He was smirking while the girl blushed subtly

Love was such a wonderful thing and the fact thatbthe couple had met just by accident was a simple prove that love actually is, all around.

Taglist: @justheretoreadthxxs @hadids-world @hc-dutch @hard4ndsoft @cmleitora

dunno if it was too short but I was running out of imagination w this one, sorryy 😭

requests are always open 🌷