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crossfandomskylines · 1 day ago

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Mountain with a View

Pairing: Glen Powell (RPF) x Female Reader

Summary: Amid the beauty of a coastal getaway, years of neglect and unspoken pain come to a head as you confront Glen about the growing distance in your relationship. What begins as heartbreak turns into a moment of raw honesty as Glen opens up about his fears and regrets, and you acknowledge your own role in the cracks between you. With one final promise and a fragile hope for reconciliation, you take the first steps toward rebuilding, finding solace in the quiet reminder that love is worth fighting for.

Word Count: 8.5K

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing angst, and I think I did okay with it. This took me a little bit longer to write as I've been working on it for about a month or so. This is HEAVILY inspired by the song Mountain with a View by Kelsea Ballerini. I would love to know what you guys think!

The soft light of dawn spilled over the cliffs of Big Sur, painting the rugged coastline in hues of gold and pale pink. Through the open windows of the restaurant, the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore filled the air, steady and unchanging, like a heartbeat. The faint smell of salt mingled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, creating a serene tableau that should have felt like paradise.

The table was elegantly set, each detail carefully curated to reflect the luxury of the resort. Crisp white linens draped over the small table, their edges fluttering slightly in the gentle morning breeze. A delicate vase held a cluster of fresh flowers—soft blues and creams that mirrored the morning sky—while the steam rising from the coffee in front of you curled lazily upward, dissipating into the air. Two empty plates sat perfectly aligned, their white porcelain gleaming in the sunlight.

But your gaze lingered on the chair across from you. Empty.

The untouched menu lay neatly folded beside the vacant place setting, its pristine edges catching the light as if mocking the silence that hung between you and the space meant for him. You glanced down at your own menu, holding it loosely in your hands, though the words blurred together. How many times had you reread the same description of avocado toast? How many times had you looked up, hoping to see him striding through the doorway, his usual easy confidence carrying him to you with a quick apology and a kiss pressed to your temple?

The coffee in your mug had gone lukewarm. You wrapped your hands around it anyway, seeking comfort in its weight, its fleeting warmth. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized the server was probably waiting for a sign that you were ready to order.

But you weren’t. Not yet.

This was supposed to be romantic. The thought came unbidden, sharp and bitter. You had envisioned something different for this morning—a quiet meal shared with him, stolen moments of intimacy as the rest of the world slowly woke. Instead, the carefully orchestrated perfection of the setting only made the absence feel heavier, more pronounced. The silence stretched, filled only by the distant crash of waves and the soft murmur of other diners scattered across the restaurant’s patio.

You set the menu down and traced a finger along the edge of the tablecloth, smoothing out an imaginary crease. The flowers in the vase shifted slightly in the breeze, their petals brushing against one another like a whisper.

And still, the chair across from you remained empty.

You lifted the mug to your lips, sipping the now-tepid coffee and willing the warmth to soothe the knot twisting tighter in your chest. But it didn’t. The weight of the empty chair across from you pressed heavier with each passing minute, and you couldn’t stop your thoughts from circling back to him.

You hadn’t heard from Glen since last night. A text around 9 p.m., short and vague, letting you know something had come up and he wouldn’t make it until today. No explanation, no details. Just: Sorry, won’t make it tonight. I’ll be there first thing tomorrow.

It was morning now, and tomorrow had become today, yet the chair in front of you remained unoccupied.

The unease gnawed at you, growing sharper with each passing second. This was his trip, his plan to reconnect, to prove that you both still had something worth holding onto. You hadn’t even asked for it; he’d been the one to insist you both needed a weekend away, somewhere beautiful and secluded, just the two of you. But now, sitting here alone at a table meant for two, it felt more like proof of how far apart you’d drifted than any sort of reconciliation.

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted softly, and you glanced up to see the waiter standing nearby, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. His smile was polite but edged with curiosity, his gaze flickering briefly to the empty chair before returning to you. “Are you ready to order?”

You forced a smile, the corners of your mouth tugging upward as if on autopilot. “I think I’ll give it a few more minutes,” you said, your voice light but strained.

The waiter nodded, his professional demeanor not faltering as he replied, “Of course. Just let me know when you’re ready.” He moved away, weaving between tables to check on a couple sitting near the edge of the patio.

You exhaled slowly and reached for your phone, unlocking it with a swipe of your thumb. There he was, smiling back at you from the screen.

The photos posted this morning were polished, curated to perfection: behind-the-scenes shots of Glen on set, his arm slung casually around his co-stars; selfies of him laughing with the crew in picturesque European locations; snapshots of stunning landscapes captioned with vague, charming quips. You scrolled through them, one after another, and felt the ache in your chest deepen.

The pictures looked pretty—at least they did on his Instagram.

The sting of it settled in your chest like a sharp, jagged stone. You didn’t even know exactly where he was right now. The last time you’d spoken, he’d mentioned Amsterdam, but that was weeks ago. For all you knew, he could’ve been halfway across the continent by now.

Your thumb hovered over the screen, and for a moment, you debated texting him. Where are you? But you didn’t. Instead, you scrolled further, past the carefully filtered moments that felt so far removed from the reality you were sitting in.

When was the last time you’d had a real conversation with him?

You thought back to your recent texts, the ones that had become increasingly generic, a hollow routine of pleasantries that no longer carried the weight of meaning. Good morning, babe. Goodnight, miss you. The words had once made your heart flutter, a reminder that he was thinking of you even from miles away.

Now, they just felt like muscle memory—sent out of obligation rather than genuine connection.

The memory of those texts brought a bitter taste to your mouth, sharper than the coffee you hadn’t touched in minutes. You set your phone down on the table with a quiet thud, your fingers curling into your lap as you tried to shake the growing resentment clawing its way up your throat.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to feel.

You stared out past the edge of the terrace, where the cliffs gave way to the water. The waves crashed below in a steady rhythm, their sound blending with the faint hum of conversation from the other tables. You tried to ground yourself in the moment, to let the beauty of the setting take the edge off the bitter thoughts swirling in your mind.

But the ache inside was relentless, and your mind wandered to a different time—a time when things with Glen had felt so much simpler, so much easier.

He used to surprise you with the little things. You could still picture the way he’d walk into the apartment with your favorite coffee in hand, the sleeve scribbled with some inside joke that made you laugh every time. Or the way he’d grab your hand in the middle of the week and say, “C’mon, we’re going somewhere,” without offering a single clue as to where you were headed. You’d end up at some hole-in-the-wall restaurant he’d found on Yelp, or sitting on a blanket in the park with a takeout box between you. He always made it an adventure.

And the way he looked at you back then… you felt like the center of his universe. Like there was no one else in the world who mattered to him the way you did. You remembered the way his eyes would light up when you walked into a room, the way he’d pull you close just to tell you how beautiful you looked, even when you were in sweatpants and an old hoodie.

He loved me so much more at twenty-three.

The thought hit you like a wave, pulling you under. A lot can change in six years, it seems.

You used to believe that love grew stronger with time. That the shared memories, the inside jokes, the challenges you overcame together would deepen your connection. But now, sitting here alone at a table meant for two, it felt like the opposite had happened.

You remembered the first time he told you he loved you. You’d been dating for a few months, and he’d taken you to a concert in the city. It had been raining that night, and you both ended up soaked to the bone, laughing as you ran from the venue to his car. Later, as you sat wrapped in his jacket with your hands cradling a steaming cup of tea, he’d looked at you and said it like it was the easiest thing in the world: “I love you.”

You’d believed him then. Completely, utterly, without hesitation.

But now, the words felt like a faint echo of something that had once been vibrant and alive. You couldn’t even remember the last time he’d said it in a way that felt real. Not over a text, not in the perfunctory way he’d sign off on a phone call—but the way he used to say it, with his eyes locked on yours like he meant every syllable.

You ran a hand through your hair, the weight of the memories pressing down on you. Maybe it wasn’t fair to compare the past to the present. Maybe this was just what happened in relationships over time. But that didn’t make the emptiness you felt any easier to bear.

The waiter passed by again, and you glanced at the empty chair. Your chest tightened. He was supposed to be here. He was supposed to show up, to prove that this trip wasn’t just another empty promise. But as the minutes ticked by, the weight of his absence grew heavier, and the unease in your stomach gave way to something sharper—resentment, maybe.

Six years ago, he would’ve been here. Six years ago, he wouldn’t have let anything stop him.

And now? Now you weren’t sure what was left between you except memories of what used to be.

You let out a quiet breath, your gaze dropping to the untouched menu in front of you. Where did it all go wrong?

It wasn’t always like this—this hollow ache of waiting, of wondering. There was a time when Glen made you feel like you were his whole world. But now, it was like you were living in his orbit, watching him shine while you stood in the shadows, unseen and forgotten.

Your mind drifted back to the first time he missed something important. It wasn’t a big deal, not really. A dinner date that he had to cancel last minute because a meeting with a director ran late. You’d been disappointed, sure, but he made up for it the next night with takeout and your favorite movie. It felt like a one-time thing then—just a fluke in an otherwise perfect relationship.

But then it happened again. An anniversary he forgot until you reminded him the following morning. He’d scrambled to make a dinner reservation, his apology genuine but rushed. And then there was the weekend trip a few years back you’d planned together, the one you’d been looking forward to for weeks, canceled because he got called back to set for reshoots.

You told yourself it was temporary. That it wasn’t his fault. Glen was ambitious, and you admired that about him. He was chasing his dreams, and you wanted to support him.

But gradually, his career began to take priority over everything else—including you.

You remembered the first time you brought it up to him, years ago, around the time all the buzz for Top Gun: Maverick started. His career was taking off in ways neither of you had anticipated, and it felt like he was slipping away from you, one missed moment at a time.

“I just feel like…” you’d hesitated, trying to find the right words, “like we don’t see each other anymore. Like you’re always busy, and I’m just… here.”

He’d pulled you into his arms, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know, babe. I know it’s been a lot lately, but it’s just this project. Once it’s over, things will go back to normal. I promise.”

You wanted to believe him. And for a while, you did. But after the whirlwind press tour for Top Gun, there was another project. And then another. Each one bigger than the last. Each one demanding more of his time, his energy, his focus.

The promises he made—that things would slow down, that he’d have more time for you—started to feel like smoke slipping through your fingers. They were never meant to be kept, just empty words to soothe you in the moment.

The last year of your life had proven that. You could count on one hand the number of nights you’d spent together in the same place, and even then, his mind always seemed to be elsewhere. On a script, on a meeting, on whatever was waiting for him the next day.

Sitting at the table now, you wrestled with your emotions. Part of you wanted to believe that things could go back to the way they were, that the Glen you’d fallen in love with was still in there somewhere, waiting to come back to you. But deep down, you knew better. You couldn’t unring a bell. You couldn’t undo the years of distance that had grown between you.

The truth sat heavy in your chest, undeniable and cruel: Glen’s career wasn’t going to slow down anytime soon. And if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep waiting for him to choose you.

The sound of laughter from a nearby table broke your train of thought. You glanced toward the source, a young couple leaning into each other, their faces alight with the kind of joy you remembered so vividly from the early days with Glen.

You’d just decided to flag the waiter and order something when you heard footsteps approaching from behind.

“Sorry I’m late.”

His voice was smooth, polished, just like everything else about him. Glen always had a way of sounding like nothing was ever truly a big deal, like the world bent itself around his schedule and not the other way around.

You glanced up as he slid into the seat across from you, looking every bit the Hollywood leading man. His perfectly tousled hair caught the soft morning light, and his tailored shirt looked as though it had been pulled straight off a magazine cover. He flashed you the charming smile that used to make your heart race, but now it only made your stomach twist.

“You know how crazy things can get,” he added with a casual shrug, as if the excuse alone should absolve him.

You managed a tight smile, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I know.”

The silence stretched between you, thick and heavy, as Glen picked up the menu. You couldn’t help noticing the faint scent of his cologne, subtle but sharp, lingering in the air. It was the same one he’d worn for years, a scent that used to comfort you. Now it just felt distant, like a memory you couldn’t quite hold onto.

“So,” Glen began, his tone overly light, “how are you liking the trip so far?”

You glanced up at him, your fingers tightening around your coffee mug. “It’s fine.”

“Fine?” He raised an eyebrow, setting the menu down. “Come on, this place is amazing. I thought you’d love it.”

“It is amazing,” you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. You looked out the open window, watching the waves crash against the cliffs in the distance. “I just… I guess I thought we’d be seeing more of it together.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than you meant them to be. Glen shifted in his seat, picking up his water glass and taking a long sip.

“You know how things are,” he said, his tone apologetic but dismissive all the same. “This shoot’s been nonstop, and they’re already talking about reshoots next month. But I wanted us to have this time together, even if it’s just for a couple of days.”

“Right,” you murmured, forcing yourself to focus on the vase of fresh flowers between you. White lilies, delicate and pristine.

The clink of silverware against plates at a nearby table filled the silence. You glanced over at Glen, noting the way he avoided meeting your eyes for too long. He folded his hands in front of him, his polished watch catching the light, and for a moment, it felt like you were sitting across from a stranger.

He cleared his throat, forcing a smile. “So, what looks good here? Have you looked at the menu yet?”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “The avocado toast looks nice.”

“Avocado toast,” Glen repeated with a chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re so predictable.”

It was the kind of teasing that used to make you laugh, the kind that felt endearing. But now it felt different—like he was poking at a version of you he hadn’t taken the time to know in years.

You traced the rim of your coffee mug with your finger, searching for something to say, but nothing came. The silence grew, filled only by the distant crash of waves and the hum of other diners’ conversations.

Finally, Glen flagged down the waiter, ordering for both of you without so much as a glance in your direction. You didn’t correct him, even though you’d changed your mind about what you wanted.

The breakfast felt quiet and suffocating. Every bite of food tasted like nothing, every glance Glen threw your way felt like it came from someone miles away. You wanted to bridge the gap, to say something that would pull him back to you, but the words caught in your throat.

Instead, you focused on the details. The clink of his fork against his plate. The way he scrolled through his phone when he thought you weren’t looking. The half-empty coffee cup he didn’t bother finishing. And the way he kept glancing at his watch, like there was somewhere else he’d rather be. Somewhere else he probably was already planning to go.

Glen’s fork scraped against his plate as he finished the last bite of his omelet. You’d barely touched your avocado toast, pushing it around with your fork until it looked more like a suggestion of a meal than food.

He glanced at you, then down at the untouched plate. “Not hungry?”

You hesitated, forcing a faint smile. “I guess not.”

He nodded absently, flagging down the waiter with a lift of his hand. In one smooth motion, he pulled out his wallet, slipping a card onto the check tray as soon as it arrived. No hesitation, no glance at the total—it was a gesture that screamed effortless privilege, something that used to impress you. Now, it just felt... hollow.

“Ready?” he asked, standing and holding out a hand to you.

You stared at his outstretched hand for a moment too long before taking it, his grip firm but impersonal. He helped you out of your chair like it was a reflex, like leading you was second nature but looking at you wasn’t.

The two of you stepped out into the fresh morning air, the salty breeze carrying with it the faint crash of waves from below. Glen slipped on his sunglasses, the mirrored lenses catching the soft light of dawn as he looked down the narrow road leading toward your rental house.

“It’s a nice morning,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Want to walk back?”

You nodded, tucking your arms around yourself. “Sure.”

The two of you set off in silence, your shoes crunching against the gravel path before it gave way to the smooth cobblestones of the resort. The cliffs of Big Sur loomed in the distance, majestic and timeless, their beauty unchanging despite the ache in your chest.

Glen walked with the easy confidence he always carried, his long strides slowing slightly to match your pace. You stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye—his jaw was relaxed, his gaze hidden behind the reflective lenses of his sunglasses. He looked like someone who belonged in this setting, polished and effortless.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” Glen asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” you lied. The truth was, you’d spent hours staring at the ceiling, the sound of distant waves doing nothing to quiet the spiral of thoughts in your head. “You?”

“As good as I could expect,” he replied, flashing you a quick smile. “You know how sleeping on a flight is.”

You nodded, unsure what else to say. The conversation fizzled out again, leaving only the sound of the waves and the occasional call of seagulls to fill the space between you.

As you rounded a corner, the rental house came into view—a charming, weathered cottage perched on the edge of a cliff, its white shutters standing out against the soft gray of its exterior. It had been your idea to book something cozy and intimate, a far cry from the glitzy resort Glen had looked into. At the time, you’d thought it would be a chance for the two of you to reconnect. Now, it just felt like a stage for the growing distance between you.

As he unlocked the door and stepped inside, you lingered for a moment, looking out at the endless expanse of ocean. The salty breeze swept through your hair, carrying with it a question you couldn’t push away:

When did it all start to fall apart?

The soft click of the door closing behind you felt heavier than it should have. Glen dropped his keys onto the small table by the door and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair. He moved through the cozy living room with the ease of someone who didn’t notice the growing weight in the air between you.

“So,” he said, heading toward the kitchen, “how’s Emily doing? She’s the friend who is pregnant, right? When’s she due again? We should probably send a gift or something, don’t you think?”

You froze where you stood, his words settling over you like ice.

“The baby shower was four months ago,” you said slowly, your voice tight. “Her daughter’s going to be three months old next week. I showed you a picture of her when she was born.”

Glen paused mid-step, glancing back at you with a sheepish smile. “Right. I—I guess I forgot.”

Forgot.

The word echoed in your mind, dredging up every other time he’d “forgotten”—anniversaries, birthdays, plans you’d made weeks in advance. The ache in your chest swelled, anger and hurt twisting together in a knot that felt impossible to untangle.

“You forgot,” you repeated, your voice sharper now. “Of course, you forgot. Why would you remember anything about my life when you’re too busy living your own?”

He frowned, the easy confidence he always carried faltering for a moment. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You stepped closer, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, as if that could somehow hold you together. “It means you don’t know anything about me anymore, Glen. Not really. You’re so out of touch with my life it’s like you’re not even in it.”

“Come on, that’s not fair,” he said, his voice rising defensively. “I’ve been busy. You know how crazy things get with work.”

“You’ve been busy?” You laughed bitterly, the sound sharp enough to cut through the tension. “That’s your excuse for everything, isn’t it? I’ve been here waiting, Glen. Not just today, but for years. Waiting for you to show up. Waiting for you to keep your promises.”

Glen ran a hand through his hair, his frustration bleeding into his tone. “You knew what you were signing up for when we got together. You knew my career was important to me.”

“And what about me?” The words burst out of you, raw and unfiltered. “Was I ever important to you? Or was I just supposed to sit here and smile and wait while you made excuse after excuse? You promised things would get better, but they haven’t. And I can’t keep waiting for you to show up.”

His jaw tightened, and he shook his head, his voice low and simmering. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not like I don’t care about you.”

“Do you?” you shot back, your voice trembling with anger and something far more vulnerable. “Because it doesn’t feel like it. You’ll say I’m crazy for being the one to leave, but I can’t keep doing this, Glen. I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine while you’re barely here.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you. Glen stared at you, his expression unreadable, as if he was trying to piece together how things had unraveled so quickly.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, but no less defensive. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to try,” you said, your voice cracking. “I want you to fight for this, for us, but you don’t...And I don’t think you ever will.”

His silence was deafening, and in that moment, you knew.

You turned away, wrapping your arms around yourself as tears burned at the corners of your eyes. The sound of the waves crashing in the distance filtered through the open windows, a cruel reminder of the beauty around you that felt so out of reach.

When Glen finally spoke again, his voice was barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize you felt this way.”

You turned back to him, your gaze steady despite the tears threatening to spill. “That’s the problem, Glen. You don’t realize anything.”

Glen stayed rooted to the spot, his hands resting on the back of the chair he’d just pulled out. His knuckles whitened against the wood as he gripped it tighter, the weight of your words pressing down on him.

“You’ll say I’m crazy for being the one to leave,” he repeated quietly, almost to himself. The phrase hung in the air, raw and unforgiving.

He looked up at you then, his usual polished composure cracking ever so slightly. His brows drew together, and his jaw flexed like he was trying to find the right words and failing. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, his voice wavered, and he stopped. His hand rose to his face, dragging down his jaw as he cleared his throat.

“You really want to leave?” he asked, his voice low and strained, like the words physically hurt to say.

You hadn’t expected him to sound so... vulnerable. It caught you off guard, but it wasn’t enough to soften the ache in your chest.

You turned toward him slowly, your arms still wrapped around yourself. The tightness in your throat returned, and you had to swallow hard before you could respond. You didn’t trust your voice, so you just nodded.

The moment stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Glen exhaled sharply, running both hands through his hair now. He paced a few steps before stopping, his back to you.

“I didn’t... I didn’t realize it was this bad,” he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. He sounded less like the confident, larger-than-life man you’d fallen for and more like someone lost.

“That’s the problem,” you said softly, not out of anger but exhaustion. “You didn’t realize. You never realize.”

He turned back to face you, his eyes searching yours like he was looking for some flicker of hope, something to hold on to. “I know I’ve screwed up, okay? I know I haven’t been... I haven’t been what you needed. But I thought—I thought we were okay. I thought we’d figure it out like we always do.”

“Glen, we haven’t been ‘okay’ in a long time,” you said, your voice breaking on the last word. “I’ve been waiting for things to change, for you to keep your promises, but they’re always just words. And I can’t keep waiting for something that’s never going to happen.”

He took a step closer, his expression pleading. “I can do better. I’ll make time for you, for us. Just—don’t give up on me. On us.”

You shook your head, tears spilling over now despite your best efforts to hold them back. “I can't keep doing this. I’ve been holding on for so long, Glen. But I’m tired. I’m so tired of being second to everything else in your life.”

His shoulders slumped, and he took another step closer, hesitating like he didn’t know if he was allowed to touch you. “So that’s it? You’re done?”

The tightness in your throat became unbearable, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. Your voice was barely above a whisper when you finally spoke. “I think I have to be.”

The words hung in the space between you, final and irrevocable. Glen’s face crumpled, and for a moment, you thought he might say something, might fight harder. But then he just nodded, a hollow acceptance settling over him.

You looked away, unable to bear the sight of him like that, and wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. The sound of the waves outside filled the silence as the two of you stood there, caught between what had been and what would never be again.

The silence between you lingered, heavy and unbearable, until Glen finally broke it. “Do you... do you want me to book you a flight home?”

His voice was low, almost tentative, like he was afraid of your answer. You didn’t look at him, staring down at the floor instead. Your chest tightened at the question, the finality of it. You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you simply nodded.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the way his shoulders slumped, the way he exhaled like the air had been punched out of him. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. You swore you could feel the exact moment his heart broke, could see it in the defeated way he ran a hand through his hair. Maybe, some small part of him had been holding on to the hope that this was all a bad dream—that you’d wake up tomorrow and things would go back to normal.

But your nod was the final blow, and he seemed to understand that. “Okay,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He nodded once, more to himself than to you, and turned toward the bedroom. “I’ll... I’ll take care of it.”

He didn’t look back as he walked away, and you didn’t call after him.

As the sound of his footsteps faded, you turned toward the glass doors leading out to the balcony. The cool morning air hit you the moment you stepped outside, carrying with it the faint scent of salt and sea. The waves crashed rhythmically against the cliffs below, indifferent to the turmoil inside you.

You gripped the edge of the balcony railing, the smooth metal cold beneath your palms. The weight of everything—the fight, the words you’d spoken, the reality of what you’d just done—pressed down on you. It felt suffocating and freeing all at once.

You took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady the swirl of emotions inside you. This was it. The end of something that had once been everything to you. Six years of memories, of laughter and love, of promises whispered in the dark—they all came rushing back, unbidden, and it took everything in you not to crumble under the weight of them.

But as painful as it was, you knew you’d made the right choice.

For the first time in a long time, you let yourself feel it all—the grief, the anger, the sadness, the relief.

Inside, you could hear faint sounds of movement—Glen probably on the phone, making arrangements to send you home. The home you hadn’t been to in days, but already longed for.

You closed your eyes, letting the wind whip through your hair, and exhaled. You didn’t know what came next, but for now, all you could do was stand here, on this edge, and breathe.

The wind swirled around you as you leaned on the balcony railing, the weight of everything settling deep in your chest. The sound of the waves was steady, soothing even, but it couldn’t drown out the muffled noise that drifted through the open window behind you.

At first, you didn’t register it. But then it came again—a soft, broken sound that made you still.

You turned slightly, glancing over your shoulder toward the bedroom. Through the sheer curtains fluttering in the breeze, you saw him. Glen was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands.

His shoulders were shaking.

You froze, the sight striking something deep inside you. It wasn’t loud or dramatic—just a quiet, private unraveling. But it was unmistakable: Glen was crying.

The realization hit you like a wave, unexpected and overwhelming. Glen never cried. He’d always been the one to keep his emotions in check, to brush off pain or sadness with a laugh or a quick deflection. The only time you’d ever seen him like this was years ago, when his family lost his grandmother. You’d held him then, wrapping your arms around him as he let himself break, his face buried in your shoulder.

And now, watching him through the window, you were reminded of that moment. Only this time, he wasn’t leaning on you for comfort. He was alone, carrying the weight of what had just happened all by himself.

This wasn’t the polished, distant Glen who had been showing up less and less in your life. This wasn’t the Glen who missed breakfasts or forgot about baby showers. This was the man you fell in love with—the one who used to bring you your favorite coffee on a random Tuesday, who looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. This was your Glen.

Your throat tightened as you watched him, your heart aching in a way that felt almost unbearable.

A part of you wanted to go to him, to cross the room and sit beside him, to wrap your arms around him and tell him it was going to be okay. That you didn’t mean it, that you’d stay, that you could find a way to fix things together.

But your feet wouldn’t move.

Because deep down, you knew that even if you comforted him now, it wouldn’t change anything. The years of distance, of broken promises, of waiting and hoping—it wasn’t something a single moment could undo.

Still, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. The sight of him like this—so raw, so unguarded—tugged at something inside you, a small flicker of the love you’d been trying to let go of.

You turned back to the balcony railing, gripping it tightly as you tried to steady yourself. The sound of his quiet sobs carried through the air, cutting through you in a way that made it hard to breathe.

And finally, you let yourself cry too.

The silence between you was heavy, the kind that wrapped itself around you and wouldn’t let go. You stayed on the balcony, gripping the railing like it was the only thing keeping you upright. Silent tears rolled down your cheeks, the occasional hitch in your breath the only sound you made.

Inside, Glen hadn’t moved much. You could still see him through the window, his figure barely shifting as he sat on the edge of the bed. His shoulders had stopped shaking, but he hadn’t lifted his head.

Minutes passed, maybe an hour—you weren’t sure. Time felt like it had frozen, stretching out endlessly in this painful limbo.

Finally, you heard him making his way out of the bedroom.

“The earliest flight I could get is this afternoon,” he said, his voice rough and low, like he hadn’t spoken in days.

You turned to look at him, meeting his eyes through the thin veil of the curtain. They were red-rimmed and glassy, his face pale, his jaw tight like he was holding something back.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

He stood then, running a hand through his hair before stepping through the sliding glass door onto the patio where you were.. He stopped just short of you, as if there was an invisible barrier between you.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking on the words. “For everything.”

You swallowed hard, blinking back more tears as you waited for him to continue.

“For not making you a priority. For being too caught up in my own world to see what I was doing to you—what I was doing to us.” He paused, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady himself. “I didn’t mean to... I just—I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Your lips parted slightly, but you stayed quiet, letting him get it out.

“I thought if I just worked hard enough,” he said, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, “I could make everything perfect for us. The house, the vacations, the security—everything. I thought that’s what you deserved. But... I see now I’ve just been pushing you away.”

The vulnerability in his eyes hit you like a punch to the chest. It was the same look he’d had years ago, the one that made you fall for him in the first place. It was a raw, unguarded honesty that you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking again. “I could tell things were getting bad, but I didn’t know how to fix them. And there was so much I couldn’t control—work, schedules, everything. So I buried myself in it, thinking... I don’t know. Maybe if I just stayed busy, I wouldn’t have to face the fact that I was losing you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again, and you had to look away, your gaze dropping to the wooden floor of the balcony.

“All I want is for you to be happy,” Glen said, his tone softer now, almost pleading. “And if... if you're not happy with...” His voice cracked completely, and he had to stop, clearing his throat before continuing. “If you're not happy with me, then... I’ll understand.”

You looked back at him then, really looked at him, and for a moment, it felt like you were staring at the Glen you used to know—the one who used to bring you coffee just because, who used to hold your hand in the car, who used to make you feel like you were the center of his universe.

But that version of him felt so far away now, like a memory you could barely reach.

“I just... I just want you to be happy,” he repeated, his voice barely audible, as if saying it again might make it hurt less.

You wiped at your eyes, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. They were honest, raw, and for the first time in what felt like forever, they felt real. But they weren’t enough—not anymore.

You turned fully to face him, leaning back against the balcony railing for support. The tightness in your chest didn’t ease, but you forced yourself to speak through it.

“It’s not just you, Glen,” you began, your voice trembling. “I—I let this happen too.”

His brow furrowed slightly, as if your admission confused him.

“I’ve been avoiding the hard conversations,” you continued, looking down at your hands, your thumb nervously tracing over the edge of your ring. “Because I was scared. Scared of what they might reveal. Scared that if I said how I really felt, it would all just... fall apart.”

His lips parted, but he didn’t speak, waiting for you to finish.

“I thought that if I just kept quiet, if I just kept pretending everything was fine, then maybe we could get back to the way we used to be eventually. But it hasn’t worked. And now... now I feel like we’ve just been drifting further and further apart.”

You paused, taking a shaky breath, your fingers tightening around the edge of the railing.

“I love you, Glen,” you said, your voice breaking on the words. “God, I love you so much it hurts sometimes. But love isn’t enough—not if you’re never here. Not if you’re always somewhere else, chasing something I can’t reach. I'm never going to be happy if you're not here with me.”

He flinched like the words physically hit him, his hands clenching into fists at his sides before he shoved them into his pockets.

“I need you to be present,” you said, tears spilling over your lashes again. “I need to feel like I matter to you, like our relationship matters to you. And I haven’t felt that in so long.”

His jaw worked, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to find something to say. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his shoulders rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“You do matter to me,” he said finally, his voice hoarse. “You matter more than anything. I just... I didn’t realize how much I was failing you. I thought I was doing all of this for us, but I see now that it’s not enough. That I’m not enough.”

You shook your head quickly, stepping closer to him. “It’s not about being enough, Glen. It’s about being here. Being with me, not just physically, but emotionally.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes glistening, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of everything you’d been holding back for years hung in the air between you, raw and unfiltered.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Your heart ached at his words, at the pain in his expression, but you didn’t know how to bridge the chasm that had grown between you.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and fragile, until Glen took a tentative step forward. His hand hovered in the space between you for a moment, like he was waiting for permission. Then, with a careful slowness, he closed the distance and pulled you into his chest.

The warmth of his embrace was immediate, familiar, and for a moment, it felt like you could let yourself fall apart. His arms wrapped around you securely, one hand resting against the back of your head as he tilted his chin down to press a kiss to your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so, so sorry.”

You didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Instead, you buried your face against his chest, the fabric of his shirt soaking up your tears. Your arms slipped around his waist, your hands clutching at the back of his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring you to the ground.

His grip tightened, just enough to make you feel safe, but not enough to smother. You could hear his heart beating against your ear, steady and strong, and for a fleeting second, you wondered if you’d ever hear it this close again.

You clung to him, your fingers curling into the material of his shirt as if holding on could somehow freeze time. The thought that this might be the last time you’d feel his arms around you made your throat tighten, and fresh tears spilled down your cheeks.

He leaned down closer, his lips brushing against the top of your head as he murmured, “I never wanted this. I never wanted to hurt you.”

You shook your head weakly, your voice muffled against his chest as you choked out, “I didn’t either.”

Glen pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders. His eyes searched yours, wide and desperate, his voice breaking as he finally spoke.

“Please,” he said, the single word trembling with emotion. “Just... give me one more chance.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. His grip tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to anchor you in place.

“I know I’ve said this before,” he continued, his voice low but urgent, “but this time it’s different. I swear to you, it’s different.”

You wanted to believe him—God, you wanted to—but doubt lingered like a shadow in the back of your mind. He must have seen it on your face because he rushed to keep speaking, the words tumbling out almost faster than he could say them.

“I’ve been thinking—really thinking—about how I’ve let you down. About how I’ve let us down. And you’re right. I’ve been so caught up in work, in trying to make everything perfect, that I didn’t see how much I was losing in the process. But I’m done, okay? I’m done putting my career ahead of you.”

Your breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. “What are you saying?” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze.

He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded like he’d already made the decision. “After this project wraps, I’m taking a break. A real one this time. No more back-to-back shoots, no more press tours that take me halfway across the world. I’ll cut back—one, maybe two projects a year, tops. I don’t care if it hurts my career. I just want to stop hurting you.”

His words were raw, unpolished, but they hit you like a punch to the chest. For the first time in years, it felt like he wasn’t just saying what he thought you wanted to hear. There was thought behind his words, real intention.

He took a deep, shaky breath and pressed on, his voice softer now. “I’ll do whatever. Whatever you need, whatever it takes. I’ll prove to you that I can be better. That I can be the man you fell in love with again.”

You stared at him, your tears blurring his face as his words echoed in your mind. You could feel the sincerity in every syllable, see it in the way his hands trembled slightly as they held onto you, like you were the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

“Please,” he whispered again, his voice cracking as his hands slid down to take yours in his. “Just give me one more chance. I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. To fix us.”

His words wrapped around your heart, tugging you in two directions. The part of you that had been hurt over and over again wanted to stay guarded, to keep the walls you’d built firmly in place. But another part—the part that still loved him, that still saw glimpses of the man you’d fallen for—wanted to believe him.

This time, it felt real. It felt different. And for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to imagine that maybe, just maybe, it could be.

You took a deep, steadying breath. You took a step back, your gaze dropping to where Glen’s hands now held yours. His grip was firm but not forceful, a silent plea for you to trust him just one more time. You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper when you finally spoke.

“I’ll stay,” you said, the words trembling on your lips. Glen’s breath hitched, and you could feel his grip tighten ever so slightly, like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you correctly. “Just for the rest of the weekend. When we get back home... we’ll figure out what happens next.”

The relief that washed over his face was almost heartbreaking. His shoulders sagged, the tension visibly draining from his body as he nodded quickly. “Thank you,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “That’s all I need right now. Just... thank you.”

You gave a small nod, unable to say anything more as you turned and made your way back to the balcony. The cool ocean breeze kissed your cheeks as you leaned over the railing, staring out at the endless expanse of water. The waves crashed softly against the shore, their rhythmic sound both soothing and haunting.

A moment later, you felt Glen step behind you. His arms wrapped gently around your waist, pulling you back into the solid warmth of his chest. He didn’t say anything at first, just rested his chin lightly on the top of your head as the two of you stared out at the water in silence.

It wasn’t the silence of before—the heavy, suffocating kind that carried unspoken resentment. This was different. It was quiet, yes, but there was a sense of fragile peace in it. Like the storm that had been raging between you for so long had finally calmed, even if only for a moment.

“I love you,” Glen whispered, his voice so soft you almost didn’t hear it over the sound of the waves. But you did, and the words sent a fresh wave of emotion coursing through you.

You closed your eyes, leaning back into him as your hands moved to rest on top of his where they were wrapped around your waist. “I know,” you murmured, your voice thick with unshed tears.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to let go of the hurt, if only for a little while. You let yourself feel the weight of his arms around you, the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back, the quiet sincerity in his voice.

As you stood there together, you thought back to that moment earlier in the day—standing alone, feeling the crushing weight of loneliness as you stared out at the beauty of this place. A mountain with a view, and yet, it had felt so empty.

But now, with Glen’s arms around you, it felt different. The view was still the same, the ocean stretching endlessly before you, the horizon painted in hues of gold and pink as the sun began its descent. But now, you weren’t alone.

And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have to be.

#Glen Powell #Glen Powell Fic #Glen Powell Fanfic #Glen Powell Fanfiction #Glen Powell x Reader #Glen Powell x You #Glen Powell Angst

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obsessedhoneycomb · 1 day ago

Text

Family

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: While you thought you're about to spend your perfect anniversary night with your boyfriend, life reminds you otherwise.

Warnings: sadness, depressive thoughts, infertility, pregnancy, endometriosis

Word count: 1k

A/N: What can I even say.. I've been at the doctor's today, for check up after my surgery, which was a year ago and I got confirmed that my endometriosis is growing back. Not that I wouldn't know, because I know my body, but being said the facts out loud is hard. I spent my afternoon crying, curled on the couch, questioning myself in case of being able to have a child one day. To get myself out of the misery, I wrote this, because I would like to have someone to come home to me and hold me in his arms, just giving me the support through all this shit. I already wrote a few pieces endometriosis related, so if you want, check it out too. Love you all. <3

---

It was meant to be a perfect day, you had plans to cook some dinner and also had some spicy things in your mind for the night.

Getting through your doctors appointments was something you got used to in the last year, after you had a surgery for your endometriosis. You felt something was off for a few months, your cramps crawling, stabbing you in the back again, those flares being harsh to the point you couldn't even sit. But you held your optimism, trying not to scare George, because worrying him while he was at his prime perfomance during the season wasn't on the list.

Today was meant to be special because you had a two years anniversary.

"Can you see these lesions here? It's back again, I'm sorry."

The words you somehow expected, but didn’t want to hear. The same spiral of pain, hormone shots, nausea and... infertility.

Yeah, you discussed it with George, because everything seems so easy to talk about with him, the idea of having kids.

It gutted you deeply, that you might not be able to give him a child.

As you got home, the space was quiet, only the soft humming of aircondition was heard, making your heart clench, that he's not even there to embrace your mess, even though it's not his fault. George was meant to be home in the evening, but you had a message in your voicemail, that he can’t get home in time, because of the delayed flight. Okay, he'll be here in the morning.

But your sadness and depresive thoughts will be with you through the night. Torturing your mind, getting the best of you, making you feel worthless and weak.

---

"Baby...?"

The faint sound of the deep voice woke you from the nap. You cried yourself to sleep in the living room, still wearing your clothes you went to the doctors in. The coat scattered on the ground next to the couch, your shoes kicked in the hallway, tissues to which you drowned your tears everywhere around you.

George knew something happened, it tugged at his heartstrings, when he saw you like this. Sad, messy and depressed.

You groaned a little, disoriented, while he sat beside you, his gaze locked on your face.

"What happened?"

Softly, he took your hand into his, brushing over your knuckles, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

Then it hit you again. "It's back again, I'm sorry."

Tears burning in your eyes, you avert them to the side, not able to look into his beautiful ocean blue eyes.

"Hey, love... Don't do this. I know, that something is wrong, but don't try to avoid me, I'm here for you, remember?"

The flicker of hope, that you’re not that worthless went through your mind, your gaze finally locking on his, pouring all your hurt into the pool of his positivity.

"I was at the doctor's today."

Oh no. There's was only one thing that was able to get this reaction out of you.

"How bad is it?"

His hand wander slowly to your cheek, brushing a thumb over it.

"It's not worse than last time, but still... It's there. Again. For fucks sake, again. I hate it so much. I hate myself."

The breaking point, your emotions flew out, your voice cracking and your tears staining your cheeks, your eyes red even more than before.

George pulled you closer to him, letting you lean against him, as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. The scent of him mixed with his cologne was enough to calm you down a little bit. He was your safe haven.

"Shhh... It's okay, just- just let it out. Be angry, scream and cry. Don't hold it in your mind. I'm here to hold you, to pick up your shattered pieces." his voice was soothing lullaby, when your cries got louder and more desperate. Brushing his fingers through your hair, he pressed the kiss on your temple, rocking you as his arms were wrapped around you tightly.

"I might not be able to have a child, George." you choked out between your sobs, and he looked down at your face with frown.

"Is that the thing that concern you the most?"

"Obviously. What a woman I am, to not give her man a child."

George felt partly offended by your words, but he kept his composure, because he was used to your hateful comments towards yourself, even, for the most of the time, you were a hell of a confident woman, loving yourself.

"Don't talk like this, please. You're much more than a baby machine." he tried to be funny and.. it worked. You smiled through your tears. He reached for your cheek, wiping off your emotions, smiling a little.

"You can't lose hope just like that. We can be lucky, you know. We just have to try, be patient and somewhere along the way, we're gonna be blessed. I don't care if it's gonna be in a month or in years. I'll be there for you along the way. As I always am. And even though we don't get lucky, I'm lucky to have you. And that's all that matters in my life, because you're my family."

And as ever, he managed to give you peace, calming warmth flooded your soul, making you sure in that George is the one.

---

Watching the screen of the ultrasound machine as you laid down on the examination table at your doctor’s, you couldn’t shake the excitement. George, holding your hand, standing beside you, was watching your expression, his chest fluttering at how happy you were.

"Ah, seems like you got very lucky." The doctor chuckled, pointing to the screen, showing two strong fetuses.

"What does it mean?" George asked first, clearly confused.

"That means that you're gonna have twins."

You nearly passed out while you gasped loudly.

"What?! Two of them?"

George only chuckled, kissing your forehead, nuzzling his nose to your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo.

"Guess we were pretty thorough with our trying." he whispered with teasing tone in his voice.

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mxltifxnd0m · 20 hours ago

Text

motel chats ── . ✶ ruby

summary: you find ruby in your motel room and she wants have a "chat"

pairings: bi! ruby 2.0 x bi! reader, ruby x gn afab! reader, mentions of samruby and slight unrequited sam x reader warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, set in szn 4 sometime after ep 4.10, no use of 'y/n', reader is described to be taller than ruby, cursing, smut, hate sex, oral (reader receiving), fingering (ruby receiving), implied switch! ruby and reader, name-calling (whore, slut), face sitting, some degradation, a prequel to my 'you did what?' fic but can be read as a standalone, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own word count: 3.5K a/n: first ruby fic/smut!! never thought id be writing a ruby fic but alas im too gay for her not to write one for her bc well look at her LOL also my first time writing wlw (f/f) smut so give me a little bit of grace <3 also there are like no ruby fics out there so i barely had any frame of references outside of mari's fics T-T alas i hope you ruby lovers/freaks enjoy this one ruby masterlist

AT THIS POINT, you don't know if it's too late to change what you're doing with your life. You swiftly swung the iron crowbar at the spirit that was charging at you in its grave that you had just dug up. You were so close to getting rid of this ghost, but of course, it couldn’t be easy for you.

You had found a simple salt and burn just a couple hours away from Bobby’s. You had asked if the boys wanted to come with you, but they had denied since the brothers were trying to figure out how to stop Lilith from breaking more seals. Which, you had to admit, was out of your league when it came to the world of the supernatural. You tried helping them out as best as you could, but sometimes you felt like you were in their way when it came to helping them put a stop to the end of the world.

You never thought that your life would be this level of crazy, but since reconnecting with the Winchesters, it’s pretty much turned your life upside down (even more so than you thought possible).

The ghost quickly disappeared when the iron made contact with its translucent form. You tried to use your lighter, but it wouldn’t light for a moment, and you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand as you heard a whoosh come from behind you. You swung your crowbar again, and the ghost evaporated.

“Just fucking light already.” You grunted out, frustrated as your thumb was flicking against the flint of the lighter. Once, then twice, you tried lighting it before the flame flickered to life. You quickly threw the lighter into the open coffin, igniting the salted and gasoline-soaked corpse. You clambered out of the open grave and saw the remnants of the ghost ‘dying’ for good as the body was set aflame.

You let out a sigh, your body sagging in relief and tiredness as you lay back onto the cool grass of the cemetery you were in.

“Next time, I’m forcing one of them to come with me.” You muttered into the silent night. Despite having solo hunted for the majority of the time, you have to say that having another pair of hands (or two, for this matter) was oh so very helpful when it came to having to dig up a dead body and getting rid of the spirit. You let out another sigh before sitting up, a small groan leaving your lips.

Fuck me. You thought as you got up from the ground and grabbed your shovel, preparing to shovel the dirt back into the hole you just dug up.

You stalked towards your motel room, the parking lot empty, save for your car and a couple of other ones scattered throughout the lot, but paid no mind to them as exhaustion riddled your brain. You had one goal in mind, and that was to get to your room, shower, and then collapse in bed, hoping you could sleep for at least six hours.

You threw the duffle that was haphazardly slung on your shoulder on the foot of one of the two queen beds you had in the room. You sifted through it to grab some comfortable clothes and your toiletry bag before you made your way to the bathroom. You stayed underneath the stream of water until it ran cold, scrubbing off all of the dirt and grime that was on your body from the hunt. You quickly went through your nighttime routine, eager to fall into bed and let sleep take you away from the land of the living temporarily.

But when you exited the bathroom, irritation started to brew in your chest when you saw a familiar brunette laying on the vacant bed.

Ruby’s head turned when she heard the bathroom door open, and you came out of it. She smirked when she saw how your mood shifted from tired to annoyed when you laid eyes on her.

“Wow, don’t you look great.” Ruby snarked as she sat up on the bed, and her eyes looked you up and down.

You couldn’t recognize the look in her eye as her gaze roamed your figure, only in a tank top and some boy shorts style underwear. You wore this getup when you had the rare opportunity to be on a solo hunt or have a room to yourself.

But you decidedly ignored how she was looking at you and scowled. “What the hell are you doing in my room?” You were tired and didn’t want to deal with her bullshit at the moment.

“We,” Ignoring your words, she stood up from the bed and gestured between the two of you, “Need to have a little chat.” Ruby’s hips swayed slightly as she began to walk towards you.

You scoffed. “No, we don’t.” You crossed your arms as you leaned against the doorway of the bathroom, and your eyes never left Ruby’s brown ones as she strode towards you.

Ruby had a sly smirk on her face. “You really don’t like me do you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry did I not make that abundantly clear the last time we had a ‘chat’?” You cocked your head to the side. “Because if it wasn’t I can refresh your memory.” Sarcasm and irritation bled through your words as the demon in front of you kept you from sleeping.

This wasn’t the first time Ruby had cornered you alone. The two of you had a bit of “girl talk” (Ruby’s words, not yours) the night after you and Dean found out what Sam was doing late at night after you had noticed that he would sneak out at night shortly after getting Dean back from Hell. That conversation was filled with thinly-veiled insults, alongside Ruby being able to rile you up until she decided she was done having fun and disappeared when you turned your back on her.

Ruby had rolled her eyes at your words but was standing in front of you now, only a few feet away. You had a couple of inches on the demon, having to tilt your head down to meet her eyes as Ruby stared up at you, amusement gleaming in her eyes at your foul mood. But the look you couldn’t recognize was back in her gaze.

A scowl etched your face, trying to mask how Ruby’s proximity had lit something within you, but you stamped it down, letting annoyance coat your features.

“Look, this won’t take long if you stop being a smartass for a second and you listen to me,” Ruby said as she crossed her arms—the action pushing up her breasts, making her cleavage slightly more prominent in the low-cut shirt she was wearing.

Your eyes flicked down to Ruby’s chest for a second before meeting her eyes—yours narrowing as you stared her down.

“What do you want?” You asked through gritted teeth, deciding that if you wanted her gone faster, you would need to be cooperative (even though deep down you didn’t want to).

The corner of her lips twitched. “I need your help.”

“Nope.”

“You haven’t even-”

You shook your head. “Not in a million years am I going to help you with anything. Go ask Sam. I’m sure he’d be willing to help you since you got him wrapped around your finger.” You spat out his name bitterly, knowing that Sam was under her spell and would be at her beck and call if it wasn’t for you or Dean trying to convince him that Ruby was bad news.

Ruby dared to smirk at you, obviously loving the way she could rile you up. “If I knew any better, I’d think you’re jealous.”

A sharp laugh left your lips. “Jealous? And what am I supposed to be jealous about exactly?”

“I’m not blind,” Ruby cooed your name out, your jaw clenched at the sound of it falling from her lips. “I see the way you look at him when you think no one’s looking.”

“Right,” you drawled out, “Pray tell Ruby, the all knowing demon, how do I look at my friend Sam?” You snarked at the demon standing in front of you.

You were going to be honest with yourself; you had no idea how you looked at Sam anymore. The two of you were close growing up. When you reconnected with him and Dean, but after being AWOL for four months and finding him shacking up with Ruby, any inkling of feelings that you had for Sam that may have been more than platonic had been extinguished. But you’d be damned if you were going to admit that to the demon he was sleeping with.

Ruby chuckled before taking a step closer to you. “Oh please, you’re not very discreet with your small glances or longing looks when his back is turned. I have eyes, you’re just lucky everyone is too wrapped up in themselves to even notice.”

“Or just wrapped up in someone else.” You couldn’t help but mutter under your breath, hoping it was low enough that Ruby couldn’t hear.

“So, you are jealous.” Ruby had that sly grin on her face, and all you wanted to do was wipe it off her face.

You rolled your eyes before scoffing. “The only thing I’m jealous of is everyone else who is sleeping right now.” You kicked off the door frame and walked past Ruby, shoulder-checking her as you made your way to the bed with your bag on it.

Ruby chuckled. “I’m sure you can stay up for a couple of more minutes. Besides, you aren’t that slick when trying to change the subject.”

“Have you ever considered not bothering me?”

“Not when I need your help.”

You threw your head back with a groan escaping your lips. “For the last time, I’m not helping you with your schemes.”

“Who said I was scheming?” You took a glance at Ruby, who had her head cocked to the side.

“You’re a demon, you’re always scheming or lying.” You pointed out as you unzipped your bag, doing anything but looking at Ruby.

“Do you think that lowly of me?”

“Yes.”

Ruby scoffed. “I’m sorry, who was the one who was tortured by Alastair because they knew the location of the rogue angel. Oh, right it was me.”

Your head snapped to stare at her incredulously.“You helping us once doesn’t warrant my trust for a single second.”

“And what about all of the times that I tipped off Sam. Come on, you have to admit that I do help you guys in some way.”

Anger filled your chest as you turned from the bed and quickly rushed at Ruby, grabbing her shoulder and pinning her against the wall—quickly placing your forearm against her windpipe, putting slight pressure against it, but not enough to cut off her air supply.

“I’m only going to say this once so you better listen closely.” You said in a low voice, glaring at the demon in front of you.

“I’m not going to be a pawn in this fucked up game of yours. You may have your claws deep into Sam and feeding him the delusion that you’re helping us, but I know that you have something up your sleeve. I don’t know your endgame, but you better believe I’ll kill you before you even get to reach it.” Your upper lip was threatening to twitch up in a snarl as you glowered down at Ruby.

But all she did was smirk, making the anger boil in your blood. “Didn’t expect you to have some bite to you. Maybe you are just more than a pretty face.”

“Has anyone told you to shut the fuck up?” You glared at her harder as you applied more pressure on her throat.

Ruby let out a breathy laugh. “Sam does and most of the time, he has a pretty creative way of doing it.”

You couldn’t help but flick your gaze down to her plush lips before meeting her brown eyes that were filled with mirth.

“Spare me the details.” You tried not to think about what she was suggesting about her and Sam, but you couldn’t help the spark of arousal that zipped down your spine.

“Are you sure? Because I thought you would love to hear about how he forces me to my knees and makes me choke around his thick cock.” Ruby had a salacious smile pulled on her lips.

“Shut up.” You growled out as you unconsciously leaned closer to her.

“Make me.” She purred. “Or are you-” You quickly shut her up by smashing your lips against hers.

Her lips were soft against yours as the two of you kissed each other fervently and hard. This wasn’t an innocent kiss between two people who liked each other; it was a filthy one meant to show who was in charge and you were winning. You felt her hands fly to your hips, pulling you closer to her body. You moved the arm that was against her neck to grab the nape of her neck as your other hand trailed down to the hem of her shirt.

You nipped at her bottom lip before delving into her mouth, tasting mint and the faintest hint of tequila. Your tongues fought for dominance, but you shoved her harder against the wall with your body, making a small moan escape her lips as you kissed her. Your lips left hers with a string of saliva connecting the two of you before you trailed your lips down her neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. The hand on her neck joined the other at the hem of her shirt—only detaching from her neck to pull the piece of clothing over her head.

Your hands landed on her bare waist, the temperature of her skin being cooler than you expected it to be, but you paid no mind to it as you started to kiss and nip at her chest, leaving hickies scattered throughout her golden colored skin. Ruby’s hands were pulling at the hem of your tank top. You let her pull it up and off of you, throwing it to the ground before pulling you into another kiss—your bare breasts brushing against her bra-covered chest, making a low moan leave your lips at the feeling of your nipples brushing against the lacey material of it.

Your hands moved up and around to her back to unclasp her bra. Once the straps fell down her arms and onto the ground in between the two of you, you grabbed her hips, pulled her away from the wall, and pushed her down roughly on the bed. You quickly got on top of her, slotting yourself in between her open legs, and kissed her roughly again as one of your hands quickly flicked open the button on the jeans she was wearing. You knew that Ruby could easily overpower you in this position, but she was letting you manhandle her like she couldn’t use her abnormal demon strength to turn the tables.

You shoved your hands down her jeans and underwear, and a low whine escaped her lips when your fingers rubbed over her wet slit.

“Shit, you’re so wet.” You breathed against her lips, having pulled away from her now swollen lips. “Who knew a demon like you got off on arguing, but then again I should have expected it.”

Ruby’s face scrunched up, and right before she could throw back a witty retort, a groan left her lips instead at the feeling of your fingers rubbing circles on her clit. You went back to sloppily kissing at her neck, leaving trails of saliva as your lips moved down her chest and took one of her nipples in your mouth and sucked at the hardened nub. Your free hand kneaded the unoccupied breast—pinching and tweaking her nipple.

Expletives and moans left Ruby’s lips as you sucked at her tits and rubbed at her clit. You stopped rubbing at her clit to shove two fingers into her slick cunt, moaning against her chest as you felt little resistance as your fingers entered her. You bit her nipple, tugging on it with your teeth before letting go of it.

You moved up from her chest, leaving teasing kisses along her skin as you reached her ear. “Look at you moaning like a whore.” You nibbled at her earlobe and chuckled at her, feeling her clench around your digits at the name.

“Oh, you liked that.” You teased her as you tried to locate the spongy spot inside of Ruby—your fingers speeding up as you did. “You like being talked down to like a slut?”

A high-pitched whine left Ruby at your words, clenching again around your fingers as her hips reached to meet each thrust of your fingers. But you stopped your ministrations abruptly, leaving your fingers inside of her warm pussy as you pulled away from her ear, along with most of your body from her to use your free hand to grip the long hairs at the nape of her neck.

“Tell me.” You tug at her hair, another moan escaping her lips as you do, making you smirk at how strung Ruby is for you.

“Fuck.” She groaned out. “Yeah I do. Now are you gonna keep going or do I have to finish myself off?” Ruby managed to snap at you, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving from the noises she was making.

You couldn’t help but smile evilly at the plan that formed in your head at Ruby’s retort. “No, I’ll finish you off. But I have to get my fill first.”

You promptly withdrew your fingers from her heated cunt and swiftly took off your soaked underwear. You grabbed both of Ruby’s wrists and climbed up her body, pinning her wrists with one hand as your naked cunt hovered Ruby’s mouth.

You looked down at her to find her staring hungrily at your slick core. “Make me cum first and I’ll think about finishing you off.” Is what you said to her before lowering yourself down on her face, letting a soft sigh of pleasure leave your lips when you felt her tongue lave over your heated cunt.

“Shit.” You moaned. “I can see why Sam uses your mouth like this, it’s the only thing that it’s good for when you’re not spewing your bullshit.” You managed to say as pleasure filled your veins and your hips rutted against Ruby’s mouth.

Her tongue moved up and down your slit, tasting you for all you were worth before sucking your clit into her mouth, suckling on it before adding more suction to it. A louder moan escaped your lips as you ground your cunt harder down on her mouth.

Ruby wouldn’t ever admit it, but it felt good to be used by you like this. If this meant she’d get one step closer to you helping her, then so be it. But she knew she wasn’t going to be able to hide the arousal that pooled in her underwear at the fact you used her like your personal toy. You weren’t shy about how hard you grinded down on her face. She moved from your clit to thrust her tongue in you—her nose bumping against your swollen clit sent you faster down to tipping over the edge.

“Fuck, you’re doing so good f’me Ruby, eating me out like a good little whore.” You gripped her wrists a little tighter, using your free hand to grip the top of her hair, and pulled at hair there—Ruby groaning at the sting of pain into you, sending vibrations through you.

The motel room was filled with your moaning and groaning as you rode Ruby’s face to oblivion, and you didn’t care how loud you were. Ruby could easily have ripped herself out of your grip, but something in her wanted to submit to you, so she did, letting you use her however you pleased.

Ruby had moved her talented tongue from your cunt and drew your clit into her mouth, and sucked hard on it. It threw you off the edge and into your orgasm. You came hard on her face, your pussy clenching around nothing as pleasure racked your body. She kept sucking on your clit as you came all over her face, wetting her chin and mouth with your slick until you shakily removed yourself from her face and collapsed next to her. Your grip on her wrists fell as you tried to calm yourself from the intensity of your orgasm.

You could hear the rustling of the sheets right next to you but kept your eyes closed as you caught your breath.

Before you could peel your eyes open, you felt cold hands grip your wrists and pin them to the bed. You opened your eyes to find a now naked Ruby hovering over you with a devilish smile on her face, but she didn’t bother cleaning your arousal from her face as she leaned down so her face was close to yours.

“My turn.” Ruby’s lips brushed against yours as she spoke.

From there you knew you were in for a long night.

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4zahara · 2 days ago

Text

01 | A stranger is stargazing

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: I just got back from a trip and wanted to upload this before studying for my algebra finals next month. This was going to be way longer but then I saw the word count and chopped it off. I have zero imagination. Used chatgpt to translate some Spanish phrases because in English they use similar terms but different meanings. Also, my birthday falls on carnivals so it's going to be a very nice last week of vacations😁

The knock on the door pulled you from your daze, snapping your attention away from the stains on the ceiling.

Outside the only window in the apartment, barred as all must be, the sky hung a deep, polluted red, with clouds stretching far into the distance. Blue-ish if you squint your eyes. You, as one far too used to the sights, needed not to look at no clock's way to know this to be an unholy hour to bother someone. The thing was broken anyway and the lack of light filtering through was telltale enough.

It was clear, however, that someone disagreed with the concept of appropriate visiting hours. Despite your irritation, you silently hoped it wasn’t who you thought of first knocking at the door—because reliving another nightmare firsthand was the last thing you could handle after an already exhausting day. The familiar fear of being alone at night when an unexpected knock shattered the silence wasn’t something you’d grown up with instinctively, as others might. No, this was a fear learned the hard way, carved into you by mistakes you committed.

Alarm bells rang deafening while you stare frozen. You found it almost cruel when everything stayed as still as you at the faintest reminder of the last time you heard knocking. Like a punishment to yourself the shelves and mess had been kept neat, framing a stop in time on your doorstep. Back then, one of the other residents had barged in, leaving you shaken—hunted by the tickling feeling of his breath on your neck when you hadn’t turned around soon enough.

You forced yourself to push the thought away, though it lingered. A ghostly feeling clung to you, far longer than you were willing to admit to yourself, when another knock shattered your fragile composure. The sound was louder this time, sharper, snapping you back into the present. Startled, you leapt to your feet, knocking over the ashtray on the armrest with your rushed and unsteady movements. An horribly loud clatter echoed against the walls for seconds too long after falling to the floor, scattering ash and ceramic across the oppressive silence. The noise startled a hiss out of you, as though the sudden disruption physically hurt.

Out of the corner of your eye, an aluminum baseball bat tucked neatly among the umbrellas by the door. It waited in its place—only silent and steady reassurance for your burning hands.

Had the thought not been so disturbingly visceral, you would have entertained the idea of describing what you felt as a hand twisting your guts as you marched toward the door. But the imagery was too grotesque to entertain, so you buried it and kept moving.

Two locks clicked open unnaturally loud. The third lock, a flimsy chain, dangled just in front of your forehead. Not much of a safeguard, but it gave you the illusion of control even knowing the thin wood wouldn’t hold if it came to a struggle.

But what you braced for never came.

On the other side of the door, the menacing face you dreaded wasn’t there. No menacing glare from fish-like, ogling eyes.

Instead, a boy. Smaller than you.

Even more fragile-looking.

It was almost embarrassing how much taller you had expected the visitor to be. Instead, you found yourself slowly—almost comically—looking down at a face twisted in a grimace, like the boy had just sucked on a lemon.

If there was anything that could have thrown you off more in this moment, you couldn’t think of it. Then came like being hit by a train the realization of your own disheveled appearance: some pale, sickly, and worn thin girl. For looking less like a witch had others been burned. Still, you forced a smile—awkward and out of place in your face. Apparently, not beating those imaginary witch-allegations in your head, smiling wasn’t the right move in a dimly lit hallway in the dead of night.

Wonder why the boy’s expression shifted almost instantly from startled surprise to wide-eyed panic as your gazes met. Both pairs of blue eyes locked onto each other, mirrors to one another.

He was drenched, water dripping from a hoodie too big for him, which clung awkwardly to his small frame. The soaked fabric looked heavy for his noddle arms. A busted lip stood out starkly for being the kind of injury that screamed ‘street-kid’ in this side of the country. Easy—normal, even—to assume a fight was the cause. Maybe at home. Maybe over food with other kids.

Wait. It was raining outside?

“I... I’m your brother,” he stammered, words tumbling out in a rush. His face crumpled almost immediately, tears welling up as if he wanted to cry. You guessed from cringing so hard.

His words, anxious and unsteady, made it hard to process what he’d said, let alone empathize. This you blinked dumb-ly. Once. Twice. Then squinted, trying to focus your tired eyes on him. Because it couldn’t be.

Your brother was hardly a toddler.

It hadn’t been that long... just a couple of years. Maybe.

It wasn’t immediate—far from the clarity you might have preferred—but recognition did dawned the longer you looked. His mop of wet messy curls struggled under its own weight, stubbornly sticking out in awkward directions, much like yours often did after a shower. And those eyes.

Willis had definitely had a thing or two for light eyes in a woman.

This time the realization felt like a sharper pain; a slap. Older now—maybe nine or ten—your brother was standing in front of you, the spitting image of his father like you were of your mother. That thought anchored you, rooted you in place as the silence grew, filled only by static.

With it, the questions began to tumble through your mind like dominoes:

How the hell did he get here?

Obviously, he walked, right? But in the rain?

All the way here from Crime Alley, in the dark?

You stared at him for far too long. So much you could've started to feel uncomfortable too. It was socially inappropriate even. But so it was disturbing people at this hour, so you bet you kept staring. Thoughts clashed and raced, refusing to settle.

“Yeah, kid, I don’t know about that—” The words came out hesitant, weak. Perhaps speaking them might dissolve the truth in front of you. But the longer you denied it, the clearer it became.

Of course, this was your brother.

It just had to be, because why the hell not?

Your baby brother.

He had to be about ten now. You hoped he was still nine, but his birthday had long passed if you had it right.

How in the hell did he find me?

Is his lip okay? Clearly not—but how had it gotten busted?

Did he get into a fight?

Where are mom and dad?

The thought of him walking alone out there, so small and vulnerable, chilled you to the bone. The idea of walking the streets alone terrified you being his senior. Out there, death would almost feel merciful compared to what could happen.

At least the monster living down the hall was a known evil. The streets, though? They hid horrors far worse.

People often said you could sense being watched, when they weren’t alone in a

room and danger loomed nearby. Whatever that underdeveloped sixth sense was, it stirred in you, pulling your gaze away from Maybe-Jason—who, judging by his oblivious expression, has proudly evolved past any shred of survival instinct—and toward the hallway.

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

The very last, or first, of the apartment doors down the hall stood slightly ajar, its shadowed outline warped in the dim, flickering light. Large portions of the space cloaked in suffocating darkness by burned-out bulbs, but even through the haze of your blurry vision and growing dread, you could see him.

There he was. Standing just within the frame of the door, his silhouette barely illuminated. He didn’t need much light to convey what he was—a predator, coiled and waiting. The sight almost froze you in place with chills one after the other. It was like watching carnage step into the light dressed in colours to deceive.

You yanked on the door handle without thought, The lock chain vibrating sharply. The frame rattled under your grip as your restless hands itched to do something—anything. Every instinct screamed at you to grab Jason, drag him inside, and slam the door. Brother or not, scammer or not, it didn’t matter. All you wanted was to get him out of sight. Out of that sight.

From the neighbors.

From the world.

From the danger now standing on your threshold.

Of course, although you had never meant to shut the door in his face, it wasn’t hard to see why Jason probably thought you were doing just that. Looking up from frantically searching his pockets for whatever reason, only to look up and see you disappear behind the chipped wood and flaking varnish must've been disheartening. Desperation etched on his young face perfectly mirrored the ache pounding in your chest—a feeling only a boy his age could wear so openly, and one only you could understand. You knew what could happen to him, to both of you, and the weight of that knowledge crushed you. His desperation laid elsewhere, as he was yet to become aware of the danger. But the feeling was mutual. Fear smells salty.

His small fist struck the door again and again. He called for nobody, babbling something about proving his claim instead. Maybe he’d forgotten your name in the haze of his nerves, or time had scrambled the syllables and their order.

It has been a while.

His pounding made you flinch, and in your fumbling to undo the chain, your ragged nails scraped against the surface. The accidental movement sent a sharp pain stabbing under your nails, but no time for whatever that was. Not as the metallic screech of rusted hinges sliced through the air.

The sound sent your heart into overdrive.

Before let-this-be-Jason could strike the door again you grabbed his arm and yanked him inside, shoving him behind you. Behind safety. That's where your brother belonged.

Then, before your dizzy, unfocused self could register how close it had been, you slammed the door shut.

══════════════ • ✧ • ══════════════

Even before stepping out of the house, Jason knew to be digging himself into a hole. He accepted the fact for what it was; his desperation guiding him down a path of poor decisions. He just hadn’t realized a shovel was in his hands until the hole’s depth exceeded his height.

Grabbed, tossed, pulled. Weren't the walls of his vertical tomb collapsing in slow, suffocating ruin, lovely? Beautiful, even.

He would have liked to think the inside of what he hoped was his sister’s apartment might be better than the place he’d come from.

It wasn’t.

It smelled of cigarette smoke, and shadows pooled in every corner. The darkness clinging to the space, thick and uninviting, might have made Jason feel at home—dragged around and overwhelmed—if the situation hadn’t spiraled out of his control so quickly.

Sure, they were family, and blood was supposed to be thicker than water, but none of that mattered if she didn’t even know he was her brother. The memories he’d clung to, distant and blurry, painted his sister as gentle and caring.

You? didn’t match that picture.

In retrospect, he realized you weren't much taller than him, and so thin he couldn’t understand why he felt so threatened. If you did try something, he figured, he could probably win in a fight—especially if the bat he somehow now held in his hands came into play.

He couldn’t remember grabbing it. Or when it had reached his hands.

It was on the floor and he had tripped with it.

You had your back to him now, tense and uncertain, seeming just as out of it as he was. For all his distrust, Jason couldn’t tell who, between the two of them, was more afraid of what might happen next.

You were frantic, scrambling to lock all four bolts, including the padlock. Each metallic click seemed to drive Jason’s heart deeper into the pit of his stomach, where it churned in acid. But he was too far gone—trapped in fight-or-flight mode—to cry about it.

Your hand hovered near the floor, near the umbrellas scattered there. Groping blindly for a handle, probably searching for the bat’s. Or maybe, fingers crossed, an umbrella to pity him.

Call it hopeful thinking.

Jason heard you curse under your breath, blaming yourself for throwing “it” too hard behind you. Still, you didn’t dare take your eyes off the door, as if you believed your unrelenting stare could alone hold it in place, as if sheer willpower wasn't already the only thing keeping that piece of wood standing. From this side, the door looked even shoddier, barely more than splintered wood and peeling paint. Jason stared at it, and you, his mind buzzing. For a fleeting second, he thought he could probably bring it down if he wanted to, so clearly the adrenaline was getting to his head.

“I think… I think it’s safe,” you muttered. Your voice shook, but the words didn’t sound like they were meant to reassure anyone but you.

Your trembling hands dropped to your sides, and you stepped away from the door.

“Safe?” Jason barked, his voice sharp, teetering on the edge of hysteria.

That’s when he learned the first thing about his so-called sister. Other than the assumptions he’d already built in his head, you were jumpy. You flinched, almost as if you hadn’t expected him to speak or still be there. To what he had to ask; Where else would he go?

His hands tightened around the bat, frustration bubbling in his chest.

Right. He had a weapon. Maybe that explained your jumpiness when facing him.

“Wow.” Your hands shot up in surrender, in a reflexive, almost lazy gesture of defeat. You didn't want to appear threatening, but your wide eyes just ticked Jason off. “So that’s where the bat went.”

“Why did you drag me in like that?” Jason barely hides the accusation. An unspoken ‘Why can’t you be normal?’ wail hung in his mind. He decided against saying it outright—better to avoid sounding desperate or offended, even if both ships had sailed.

“Because the Boogeyman was about to get you? Obviously?” you shot back, your tone spoke to a child far younger than him. Your grimace wasn’t for him though.

“What?” Confused.

“What?” You mimicked. Jason felt whatever hope he had for your help steadily slipping away.

“What— are you doing?!”

“How about you put the bat down, buddy—back with the umbrellas? I’m not going to attack you,” Jason cut you off, his frustration boiling over. “You pushed me into your apartment! If anything, you’re kidnapping me—”

“There was a man outside!” you cut him off yourself with a sharp exclamation and throwing your hands in the air, sounding genuinely offended at being called out. Good. Jason couldn't be the only one losing it here. “And stop shouting,” you hissed, lowering your voice but glaring at him. “Other people live here.”

Jason glanced around. “This place is disgusting.” Home wasn't better, but he was pissed.

“Thanks,” There was a sharp edge, more venom in your tone than you’d intended. It startled Jason enough to make him take a step back.

Seeing your little brother back away from you should've tug on your heartstrings. It did. Almost tearing them off at the memory of a toddler gleefully making a mess of his food, yet looking so utterly blameless.

You couldn't be angry at Jason—if this was truly Jason. You had to remember who you were getting angry at and would/could cry.

Still, you should’ve been ashamed of the mess. You looked like you knew you should.

The apartment was tiny, cramped, and barely livable. The peeling wallpaper was stained yellow. Dirty dishes piled in the sink, a leaning tower of neglect, and discarded takeout containers dotted the counters like forgotten relics. The lone couch sagged under its own weight, covered in a mismatched patchwork of old blankets, and the floor—God, the floor...

Jason, once a master of breaking down your stubborn resolve with those big, pleading eyes, probably for the best, didn't seem to remember his power over you even having already made you back down. You sighed and leaned against the door. Slowly, you slid down until you hit the floor. The movement felt pitiful, like a defeated video game boss collapsing after the final blow. Only there was no triumphant music playing in the background and it looked sadder.

You stared at the floor, head tilted slightly forward, shoulders slumped. “It’s been a while,” you muttered, your voice strained, “since I talked to actual people, okay? Sorry for… the mess. I guess.”

And Jason reluctantly lowered his guard.

The bat still clenched tightly in his hands, eventually lowered, no longer pointing at you. Even so, he kept it close as he sat down on the floor, mirroring your posture.

“S’okay,” he mumbled.

“You look battered,” you said before a ten year old could take pity on you.

“You look high.”

To what his sister gasped, hand flying to your chest in mock offense. “I don’t—do I?—” And stopped abruptly. A pause, a sigh, and then you scratched the back of your neck, avoiding his gaze. “Okay, fair enough. ‘m not like that, but they cut the water off Monday morning so...”

“...It’s wednesday,”Jason saw you wince.

“What are you doing here anyway? How did you find me? Or even get here in the first place?”

“I walked…” Jason admitted, trailing off. He’d wanted the silence to stretch a little longer, but…

“(Name)?”

“Hey,” you cut in, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Glad to know you remember my name.”

“I came because of mom… Was there really someone in the hallway?”

“Yeah... Some creep. I'm 80% sure he’s a pimp too.”

“A pin? What's that?”

“What's what?” Suddenly remembering the limits and implications of talking to a ten year old. Even if the streets were more home than Catherine and Willis, Jason was still a child. You too, but you have literally lived in the streets for some time.

Wonderful times.

“Doesn’t matter. Just be more careful, Jason.”

He hesitated, the weight of his next words sinking his shoulders. “Mom 's bad.”

Your face fell. “You shouldn’t have left her alone with Dad if she was already—”

“Willis is gone.”

“Gone?”

“Jail.”

“…Huh.” You slumped back against the door, your hand rubbing at your temple. “Well… you shouldn’t go back out at this hour,” you muttered, your tone softening. “Especially not in the rain.” You pushed yourself to your feet with a groan. “I’ll grab you a towel… Food?”

His stomach grumbled, betraying him entirely.

“Yeah. Food too then.”

#jason todd #batfam x reader #x reader #batsis!reader #batman #kid jason todd #batfam x batsis #batfam

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peachidin · 2 days ago

Text

We could be together, if you wanted to

A Jedi. A Mandalorian. A choice.

din djarin x f!reader

Rated M - 6.2k

Tags: Jedi!Reader, alluded past attempted SA , eventual smut, inappropriate use of the force, unprotected PIV, fingering, yearning Din, like really pining, very noncanon timeline, no beta read we go down with this ship

Divider by @/saradika

My first time writing a longer story, sorry if the POV switches are confusing, but I hope you enjoy it!

It wasn't supposed to have been like this. You groan as the cantina music pounds ruthlessly against your skull, the hot air sticking to your skin like a second layer. Your arm moves across the table, fumbling for who knows what against the scattered bottles of alcohol you threw back only hours ago.

Hours?

It was a pitying scene, your Jedi robes removed and scattered on the ground, leaving you in only a thin long sleeve and pants. Your lightsaber, the thing you worked so hard for, forgotten somewhere on a betting table. This was your reality now.

A fallen Jedi they called you.

Another groaned turned sob escapes your lips, your hands shakily rising to cover your face as if you could simply hide away from this life. Lost in your wallowing, you almost didn't hear the cantina bands music dull down to a few notes. The subtle stall of conversation in the cantina. The icy feeling of being watched from somewhere, or, everywhere at once. The force, plucking gently at your instincts through the layers of grief and drinks.

Run.

Your body moves on instinct, throwing up the large wooden table as a gloved hand reaches for you. Your feet sludge through your clothes and you let out a curse, your gaze swaying as you try to steady yourself. A flash of metal, and you move once more, the other cantina patrons shoving past you to escape out the few available exits. Your head whips around, trying to catch a glance of your assailant, but somehow they melt into the darkened corners surrounding you. Your eyes flutter shut, reaching out to that warm feeling surrounding you, that gentle pull that's been with you all your life. The Force thrums to life, spiking with intensity behind you within seconds. You gasp, flipping around just in time to face him.

He was huge, his frame surrounding all points of your vision as he stalks towards you. The beskar armor reflects the few light sources above, making him practically invisible. You move towards your belt but your hand is only met with open air. Your curse as your eyes see your lightsaber only a few tables away, gleaming in the dark.

“I don't want any trouble,” you manage to say, your voice rough and scratchy from the hours of wailing your heart out before. He stands only a few inches in front of you, causing you to tilt your head fully back to look at the small visor on his helmet. He tilts his head as if he were actually regarding your plea. You should have known better.

His hand quickly grabs for your arm and waist, practically holding you to the spot with minimal struggle. You hear the clink of bracers from his belt as his other hand smoothly brings them towards you. You struggle in his grip trying to push away from him. Even the Force seemed to slip away from you causing a bitter laugh to rise in your throat.

“I don't regret it, making him hurt.” You whisper, the thought leaving your lips before you could catch it. It was an admission of what you did and yet the Mandalorian paused.. Your heart continued to pound in your chest as you waited for him to continue with his mission, to feel those cold pieces of armor clamp around your wrists. Your eyes glance to his hand still frozen at his side and your ears could pick up the soft squeak of leather from his grip as he tightens his hold on you and the metal cuffs. Your gasp draws his attention back to you as he lowers his hand on your waist, letting it fall to his side.

“Was told a Jedi went rogue, attacked a Senator in his home.” His modulated voice was softer than you would have imagined, and you blink up at him as you register his words. You nod, your throat drying as the events flood back to your mind.

“The Senator has been known to disregard the protection of male Jedis. I was sent instead, exactly as he requested.” You state, the practiced cool of your voice barely wavering as you take in another breath.

“I merely protected the other Jedi they would have sent after me. He needed to understand that that would never happen to anyone again.” His screams still lingered in your ears; his petrified face locked onto yours as you unsheathed your lightsaber. It wasn't a killing blow, but it left a big enough scar so that he would never forget who gave it to him. The Mandalorian seemed to nod, and you glanced around nervously as the last remnant of alcohol burned from your system.

“So, are you taking me back?” You whisper softly, trying to peer into the darkened T of the helmet and imagine just who was underneath. His hands move quickly and your body jerks back in surprise. His movement halts to a complete stop, before continuing slowly, placing the cuffs back onto his belt.

“I am meant to complete my mission.”

Your stomach drops at his words, yet you nod firmly, accepting what was to wait for you back with the senate. They already claimed you betrayed the Jedi order, they already set a bounty on you. A once honorable Jedi knight now turned enemy.

“But the bounty escaped.”

Your eyes jerk back up to his, your breath hitching in your throat as you take in his words. The Mandalorian turns silently, moving to one of the nearby exits. He turns back to look at you, tilting his head as a sign to follow. You scrabble to gather your discarded clothes in the wreckage of the bar as you shuffle to follow him out. Your eyes land on that piece of metal that seemed to call out to you, pleading for you to bring it along. What was a Jedi without their lightsaber? You sniffle as you trace a loving finger over the hilt you had grown up with. The cantina wasn't a complete mess, but enough debris remained that you could spot a broken slat of wooden floor near the table you had thrown. Deep enough to hide something and inconspicuous enough to not be examined in detail. Carefully, you place the saber into the hole, sliding it until it was out of view and lost somewhere under the wooden flooring. The roar of a ship interrupted your thoughts, reminding you that he was waiting, and you were to join him.

That was months ago. Now, you sit lazily in the copilot chair on the razor crest, watching the coordinates Mando punched in with ease.

“Ti’yar again? Really?” You ask excitedly, turning to face the bounty hunter. He just nods, placing the ship into autopilot for the foreseeable future.

“A lead recommended Ti’yar for information on a bounty.” Is all he says, standing up to make his way back to the shared living space outside of the cockpit. You watch him leave with a fond smile. It took some time before you grew accustomed to his curt words but now you found yourself understanding the Mandalorian better. He was kind, in his own way. Most people projected their kindness with loud actions, but Mando preferred his to go unnoticed if he couldn't help it. It started back when you first boarded the ship. How he scavenged up some clothes for you to change into. Or how he made a small storage room into your own personal space. When you tried to thank him he simply waved you off.

“It's nothing. Besides, you have your own work cut out for you.”

He wasn't wrong. You began helping him locate his bounties as a way to “pay” him back. The Force didn't leave you as you once thought it would, instead, it moved differently than you were used to. Your relationship worked and you wouldn't trade it for anything.

But that's all it was. Business.

Sometimes you wondered if it could be more.

You follow him deeper into the ship as excitement pours out of you. Ti’yar was a coastal city nestled in thick green forests. The first time you visited you wondered if the place was even real. With delicious food and festivals, you made it known this was your favorite stop on your journey so far. A part of you wondered about his reason for the sudden voyage.

‘The bounty doesn't have any known ties to Ti’yar, so why stop..’

Your feet continued to propel you forward as you tried to understand, causing you to smack into the solid back of the bounty hunter. Mando quickly turns around as his hands gently land on your shoulders to steady you.

“You ‘kay?” He grumbles, his hands quickly retreating to his sides so quick you almost missed that subtle flex of his leather clad hands after they touched you.

“Mhhm.” You couldn't help the smile spreading across your face at his gentle actions.

“Be ready in three hours.” Is all he says before turning back around and heading to his room farther down the hall. The feeling of his hands still warmed your shoulders, and you couldn't help gently running your hand along the spots he had touched, as if you could feel some sort of remnant of him there.

The Jedi code didn't care when it came to physical relationships.

The Jedi code warned against attachments.

Attachments led to fear and jealousy.

You were no longer Jedi.

The thought still churned your stomach, but the concept of freedom melted across your tongue like honey. You had choices now. This was something that could be yours, by your decision. Your mind began to form an idea. One that made your heart race with desire. Did you even know what desire was? Passion? You wondered how it would feel to choose someone for more than just the reason of being there. Would he even want that?

Three hours didn't seem long enough to quell your hurricane of a mind before the ship began its descent, your future only a few hundred feet below you.

The Mandalorian emerged from his room, moving back to the cockpit to steady the Razor Crests landing. He found himself looking for you. His gaze automatically sweeping the ship before they landed on you, your body tucked carefully into the copilot chair. You were wearing a flowing tunic, the material so thin and light he imagined he could tear it with a touch. You turned, wearing that maker damned smile you always wore when you looked at him. The smile that made his chest clench with some unknown feeling.

“Ready to catch a bounty?” You grinned as he sat himself into his seat, fighting the urge to adjust his body under your stare.

“Just information.” He reminded you, his voice stuck in his throat for whatever reason. He could tell from the heat of your gaze you wanted to say more to him and he thanked the maker the ship began its landing protocol before you could. Something felt different. The air felt heated more than it ever had. He always made sure you were comfortable. He kept his touches gentle and when he was capable, always with warning. That day still haunted him. Receiving the bounty for some Jedi the Senate proclaimed as dangerous, only to find you alone in some dingy bar crying by yourself. He had moved without thought as he approached you. His hand reaching out for what? He barely had time to react as you flipped that table. In any other case he would have been proud and when you told him what you did to that Senator, he knew he wasn't turning you in.

You were the most fierce and beautiful thing he had ever seen.

You didn't need him to protect you but he would be damned if he didnt keep you as safe as he could.

“Mando? Mando-”

He was torn from his thoughts as he glanced back at you. Your eyes, so wide and trusting. His hand tightened into a fist as he stood up and moved towards the docking bay of the ship. Your footsteps chased after him quickly as he exited the ship and stepped onto the soft ground of Ti’yar.

“You are ignoring me!” You huff as you finally make it back to his side and he only felt a small twinge of displeasure at making you feel ignored.

“We have things to do.” Is all he says when really, that's all he can manage. He can feel your shock and frustration as he begins to walk the trail leading down into the town.

“Mando!” You call after him and he swears just one order from you would bring him to his knees.

Then you speak.

His body stops. His heart pounds in his chest. He turns towards you slowly to keep his instincts at bay.

“What did you say?” The gravelly tone of his voice seems to surprise you. You let out a groan as you cross your arms over your chest.

“If you tried to catch me like a bounty, how long would it take you?” The words leave your voice with a false air of confidence despite the slight shake in your body. You move down the trail carefully while keeping your eyes locked onto where you imagined his were staring right back at you.

“I've always wondered since that day, if you had seriously tried to catch me, and I tried to run, how long would it take you to get me?” You say again. Despite his face being hidden you could feel the air begin to change with sharp spikes of electricity. The Force, tugging at your heels.

Run.

“If I wanted to catch you, it wouldn't take long at all.” The Mandalorians' voice rasped out and hearing it sent a thrill down your spine.

“I’m a little hurt you think so little of me-”

“I could never think little of you.”

His interruption caused your eyes to widen as you stared at one another. That unknown heat began to rise in your body, demanding to be felt for once in your life. This was it. Your decision. Your desire.

“I want to try then.”

He waited for you to explain.

“I want to run from you, and I want you to chase me. Or at least, I want you to want to chase me." You couldn't stop the words from pouring out of your mouth. "I want to make this choice, and I want you to have one as well." Those inner dreams and desires finally see the light of day in your new life. The silence rings loudly in your ears as you wait for him to do anything. You begin to feel the panic rise in your chest. “You can choose to follow me or not, Mando, but I am going, and if I have to prove to you I am serious about this I will-" Your words cause him to step towards you once more.

‘Oh maker, I’ve messed this all up,this is too much for him, I’m too much-’

“I’ll give you thirty minutes to get to town.” His modulated voice cuts through the air, sending chills down your spine. Mando huffs and adjusts his stance before you, "And I know you're serious about this, it's just-" You can hear him sigh as he shakes his head, opening his bracer to set a time limit before snapping it back shut. “We will use these comms to communicate when needed.” He moves forward once more, placing a small comms link into your hand.

“Once I am hunting you, I won't stop, and once I catch you, you will have another choice to make." He says simply, his hand lingering over yours. You stare up at him, the beating of your heart filling the air. "Once I catch you, I'll let you go, if that's what you want. You can keep running."

Your face is so flushed and beautiful he has to fight the urge to groan at the sight.

"And if I decide to not run?" You ask softly, looking up to his masked face.

The Mandalorian takes another breath, finally pulling his hand back. "If you decide to stay, you're mine."

There it was, his choice, the desire for you palpable in his words. You wanted to know what he wanted and there it was.

It would always be you.

Excitement ran through your body as you two stood closely together. “I guess you'll have to catch me to know my answer.” You whisper up to him, laced with that teasing tone he had grown so used to.

All he does is nod. It's all he can do.

The game was afoot.

Ti’yar was just as breathtaking as you remembered. The streets were full of merchants and shops with smiling faces calling out to you. It only took you a few minutes to get into the center of town, and you felt confident about your good timing. You glance around the tall buildings before spotting a small lodging near the water's edge.

“A beautiful establishment, very romantic.” A small voice speaks from beside you, your eyes looking down to the small framed grandmother sweeping the ground next to your feet.

“Do they have any openings?” You ask politely while you will the Force to gently push the pile of dust together for her with ease. The elder laughs with glee but says nothing about the act.

“Tell them Inana sentcha’, they’ll give you the best suite for you and your partner up there.”

Inana gestures towards the Razor Crest only a few miles away, just a small glint of metal on the skyline. You grow flustered quickly opening your mouth to oppose her words before she moves away from you, humming happily. The lodge catches your eye once more, glowing against the ocean in a hypnotizing way. You bite your lip, weighing the options. You had enough to pay for a great room, but would Mando realize that you weren't hiding in the actual town too quickly? Inana passes in front of you once more and you smile as an idea enters your head. You quickly take out a handful of credits and approach Inana, taking her hand and placing them into her frail hand. Inana lets out a gasp as she sees the amount now in her possession.

“Whatever is this for?” She asks, her eyes wide and curious.

“If a Mandalorian comes this way, please let him know you saw me enter that building over there.” You explain, pointing to a building a few streets up from the plaza. Inana shakes her head, her face contorted in confusion.

“I guess I can, that Mandalorian was always trouble, but, whatever for dear?” She asks, and from the care and kindness in her voice you have half a mind to just stay here with her.

“I care about that person a lot. I want to prove to him I am not as delicate as he thinks I am.”

Inana clucks her tongue at you, causing a bashful flush to rise to your cheeks.

“I’m sure he knows that young lady, but your secret is safe with me.” She smiles, patting your hand gently.

The sun was already beginning to set, warm rays of reds and yellows painting the scenery around you. You take a deep breath as you stretch and take in the salty air. Your thirty minutes was almost up. Careful to walk along the busiest parts of the roads you slip in between groups of people, hoping they would hide your footprints as much as possible. The lodge wasn't too far from town, but the sun was already sunk behind the sea by the time you approached the front doors. The Twi’lek at the front desk happily accepted your credit and recommendation from Inana and tugged you along to a room facing the water. It wasn't too high of a floor nor too low, so if Mando was to even come this far out it would give you ample time to form a plan before he found you.

The room was beautiful. Calm colors painted the room and you could spot a large bathtub with copious amounts of soaps. The bed centered against the wall took your breath away by the amount of blankets and pillows alone. Your fingers roamed over the fine silk of a robe the staff left out for you on the mattress and you knew you would be dreaming of this place forever. A grin practically splits your face as you slip into it only to be interrupted by the sharp hiss of the device in your ear.

“It was smart to send me in the wrong direction.” His voice was low and husky, even more modulated by the crackle of the device.

“Don't tell me you badgered an old woman into giving you directions, Mando?” You smiled despite the surprise of his realizing your game already. You carefully moved up onto the soft sheets, noticing how easily two people could fit on the bed.

“She gave me an earful about, what did she say, how much you liked me?”

You gasped and flew up on the bed, heat rising to your face with ferocity.

“I said care! How much I cared-” You slapped a hand over your mouth, inwardly groaning as a chuckle crackled from his end of the connection.

“Good to know, sweet girl.”

Any comeback you had for him sizzled out on your tongue.

“Now, where are you?”

You roll your eyes, stretching out on the silken comforter while a groan escapes your lips. You could swear you heard a small hitch in his breath at your noise and you couldn't help the boost to your ego.

“Miss me that much already?”

“If I say yes will you just come home already?”

Home.

You weren't sure if he even realized what he said by the constant grumbling coming from his end of the call. “I’m a strong fallen Jedi, it would take more than some flirting to bring me back.” You tease, waiting to hear some sly remark back. You are met with static.

“Did I make you feel like you weren't?” He asks. His voice was soft and almost, you realized with curiosity, vulnerable.

“No, you didn't, just-”

“Just what?”

“I like that you take care of me.” You state, almost impressed by the confidence in your voice. You take in a small breath before continuing, “I like it, but I needed to know it was what you wanted. The Jedi live devoted lives, it's how I was raised but now, I can choose too.” You can hear him exhale on the other end, and you could practically see his head nodding along to your words. “I want you to have that choice too, I mean you're already coming for me, unless you changed your mind, which I would still support-”

He chuckles once more at your ramblings, and the sound goes straight to your heart to tuck away for later.

“Noted, but I’m not leaving you.” Is all he says, the warmth in his voice seeping into your mind with ease.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy despite the racing of your heart. This was nice. It was rare you and him got a chance to speak so freely. You yawn as you stretch out and nestle into the mountain of pillows arranged on the bed, a content and happy smile on your lips.

“You tired, sweet girl?” He asks softly, and you could almost swear there's a crackling sound of ocean waves from his end.

“Not at all…” You whisper as your voice trails off, confirming his suspicions.

“Do you want to know why we stopped on Ti’yar?” He asks suddenly. You nod, not even thinking that he couldn't see your response. “I remembered how much you loved it when we came last time. Your eyes just, glowed, seeing the ocean and town. I wanted to make that happen again.You deserve this, you deserve more than what I can give you cyar’ika.”

You want to protest, to tell him he is everything you deserve and more, but sleep overtakes you, only allowing a small whisper of acknowledgement to Din. He doesn't mind, rather, hearing your small huffs of sleep makes him feel better. Knowing you were in this lodge safe, proving you could run from him. It took him longer to find you than he anticipated. That old woman certainly tricked him, but he couldn't help the pride in him when he realized how smart you had been. His gaze travels up to take in the waterfront lodge. It was beautiful. Exactly the kind of place he hoped you'd find. He enters the front door, briefly talking with that same Twi'lek as before. He mutters some lies along the lines of wife and husband before they tell him what room you were in. He carefully stalks towards your room, his bounty hunter instincts urging him to move faster and faster. He finds your door, pushing it open gently. There you were, nestled so peacefully on the bed it almost made him want to leave you.

Almost.

He approaches you gently, taking in your form swathed in some silken robe that made his jaw clench. The lights flickered on to a dull glow, just enough light to see your form before him. His hand reaches out, gently brushing the soft skin of your cheek against the cool leather of his glove. You groan softly, and he has to stifle a similar noise leaving his lips.

“Cyar’ika.” He says softly, watching with bated breath as your eyes flutter open. You roll over, unsurprised to see him before you.

“How did I do, bounty hunter?” You ask with a sleepy smile despite the hot sensation of his hand on your cheek.

“You did wonderful.” He says quickly, his tone so sure and confident. You sigh as you sit up and Din isn't sure if he should remove his hand or not. He decides on the latter, and gently lowers his hand before you snatch it up in your grip tightly. You pull him closer and you can feel the tautness of his body. He found his bounty and was ready to strike.

“You caught me.” You whisper softly, sitting up on the sheets to look up at him. The bed was high enough that as you sat on your knees you easily were at eye level with him.

You already knew your choice.

You both knew.

You carefully pulled his hand to your waist, like he had all those months ago. Instead of that gruff hold he once used now he barely grips you. His hand shakes as if he is fighting himself to stay there.

“I trust you.” Is all you say, giving him a soft smile as your hands move forward towards his armored chest. You hiss at the cold sensation of the beskar on your palms but continue roaming over his body. Your movements seem to calm him enough that you feel his hand finally rest fully on your waist, his thumb rubbing a rhythmic pattern on the silk robe.

You hum as you examine his body even further, your hands trailing up to his pauldrons and resting easily along the fabric of his cloak secured around his neck. His breath hitched only slightly and you wished you could see it for yourself.

“You touch me as if I’ll vanish.” You muse gently. Your head tilts back to gaze up to his visored face. His head tilts to the side, exposing the smallest sliver of tanned skin underneath.

“Sometimes I’m afraid you will.” Was his response. Mando’s tone is surprisingly soft despite the edge of his modulator. His hand tightens only slightly, barely inching up towards your ribcage. “I’m afraid you will realize you could do so much better than be stuck with me.”

His words strike you. Your eyes glance up to him with concern, “The only place I want to be is with you.” Your whispered confession floats up to him.

You are not sure who moves first.

Your body is crushed against his, those gloved hands roaming across your body as his cold metal helmet pushes itself into your neck. He’s mumbling, low and intelligible and it makes you giggle as your hands scrape against the rough fabric of his flight suit. You gasp as you're suddenly pushed down onto the plush bed. Mando’s hand still splayed on your lower back, pulling you up and against him. You gasp at the sudden friction as he moves himself between your thighs.

“Tell me what you want, cyar’ika.” He says in a low tone while trailing his hand from your back down to your thigh. Your thoughts were frazzled. A deep heat rising to your cheeks as you try to stammer out your desires.

“I want-I want to feel you.” Your plea is met with quick movements from him, his hands quickly tearing off the leather gloves to reveal tan skin underneath. You reach for him slowly, shocked to feel just how warm he was. His hands were rough and calloused but they felt so right. You pull his hand to your face, pressing a soft kiss to his palm. The Mandalorian groans, his body jerking against yours. You grin at his reaction.

“All that for a kiss, Mando?” You tease, pulling his hand down your neck and leaving him to the skin revealed under your robe. There's a modulated gasp and maker you think you just discovered your favorite sound.

“Can I?” Mando asks through gritted teeth, fisting the silken robe on your body. All it takes is a whispered yes from you before your body is revealed to the cool night air. He lets out a hiss as he takes in your naked form, glowing under the soft lights within the room. You begin to worry, maybe it was too forward, but any thoughts were squashed as his hands began to roam over your skin, leaving no spot untouched.

His thumb brushes against one of your hardened nipples and you have to bite down on a moan from how sensitive you felt below him. You had dalliances with other Jedi, all quick and to the point. But none held you like this. None touched your body with so much reverence.

“So fucking beautiful, cyar’ika.” He moans out, his hips grinding down against yours. Your legs part, making room for him as his hands struggle to decide where to go and another groan of frustration leaves his lips.

“Mando-please-”

“It’s Din.”

In your fevered state, you still manage to glance at him with confusion.

“My name is Din.” He emphasizes before his hand trails down your stomach and to the slick pool growing between your legs, gently coaxing small moans from your lips. His fingers move deftly across your folds, rubbing that spot so perfectly before stopping completely. You let out a frustrated groan, trying to grind against him for any kind of friction to relieve yourself. Din chuckles as he shakes his head.

“Say it, sweet girl. Say my name.”

You squeeze your eyes shut as your body aches from the lack of contact. “Please, Din, I need you-” You barely could finish your begging before his fingers plunged into you, arching your body off the bed. Din moved with expert precision, finding that sweet spot with a simple curl of his fingers that made you see stars. Then you felt it, that warm pull at the edge of your senses. You tried to focus, but every thrust of his fingers made you gasp, and you were losing control quickly.

“Din, I want to, if you'd like-”

“You can do whatever you want with me.” He interrupts, the words ringing so true between you two. You spent so much time wanting to be his so badly, it almost surprised you to hear just how badly he wanted to belong to you.

You moved the Force like syrup, rolling lazily towards Din until it reached lower, and lower-

Din made a startled gasp as his hips stuttered, grinding into the space between you..

“Cyar’ika-” He chokes out, but continues his rhythmic movement with his fingers. You moan encouragingly, willing the sensation surrounding his clothes bulge to grow stronger, rubbing teasingly along his length.

It almost made you blush at realizing just how much of him was hidden away.

“Fuck, sweet girl, youre so perfect-” He gasps, his fingers speeding up within you. You gasp and writhe underneath him, that tension rising within you and so ready to snap. He was close, you could tell, and you gently drew the Force back from him, his body shaking with pleasure. “Din, I need you inside me-” You plead, grinding your hips up to his. Din nods, pulling his fingers out of you with a wet sound as he fumbles with his armor and belts.

You smile, sitting up carefully to assist him. Your hands bump against each other as you both laugh softly, trying to remove the beskar quickly. Eventually, he is in his flightsuit, and you can spy the small zipper over his lower half. You scoot forward, gently bringing your hand to the zipper and pulling until his thick length bobbed out for you to see. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, your body leaning down to him before Din chuckled, gently grasping your chin as he shakes his head.

“Next time, cyar'ika, I don't think I will last.” He growls, pushing you back onto the bed gently, “And I want this to last.” His chest plate brushes against your breasts, causing you to gasp as his weight consumes you. He breathes heavily above you, lacing your hands with his beside your head.

“You want this?” He asks, his tone now soft and gentle. His body stays above yours, so close to bringing you that pleasure you desired. “Even though I can’t remove my helmet, you want this?”

You could practically hear the other question he wanted to ask.

Do you want me?

A shaky breath escapes your lips, your eyes peering up to his face. You nod, squeezing his hand. “I want you Din. I always will.” You tell him softly, leaning up to place a kiss on his helmet. Din chuckles before carefully guiding himself into you, hissing at the tightness surrounding him.

“Maker, you feel more perfect than I imagined,” He gasps, sinking all the way into you. You let out a shaky breath, nodding at how perfectly full you were.

“You were made for me, cyar’ika, now I’ll never let you go.” He growls, slapping his hips against yours, a sharp moan leaving your lips as he drives into you.

“Shit, Din, please-” You weren't sure what you were begging for, but with each thrust you were losing more and more logic. You turn your head, biting down onto the fabric on his forearm as he hits that sweet spot repeatedly. The bed was creaking across the floor, but neither of you cared, pleasure blinding you both from any consequences or care.

“I’m close, sweet girl, where do you want me to-”

“Inside me Din, please, I want to feel you inside me.”

Din wasn't sure what he had done to deserve you. He thrust into you, faster and faster, your moans turning into a scream of pleasure as his hand touches you once more, bringing you to deafening pleasure. Din was not far behind you, thrusting only a few more times until you could feel his warmth coating your insides, filling you up even more than you thought possible. He groans, sinking down on top of you, his weight adding an extra sense of security as he stays inside of you. You both stay silent, aside from the short gasps between the both of you as you try to regain control over your hearts.

“Was that good?” You finally ask, trailing a hand along his back.

He chuckles, shaking his head at your tone. “I think you've destroyed me cyar’ika.” He mumbles, causing you to laugh softly. The lights in the room began to dull as the sun rose over the ocean, filling the walls with those same streaks of red and gold like you saw last night. You can feel Dins breathing slow as your hand strokes his back, sleep consuming him quickly.

Maker, when was the last time you felt like this? So safe and happy? Your eyes began to flutter closed as well, even as Dins arms tightened around your body and secured you to him.

“You’re mine, cyar’ika.” He grumbles, and you nod in agreement at his words.

“I'm yours, always yours.”

The Jedi and Mandalorian lay with one another under the soft rays of sunrise, their breathing matching one another's even as the town awakens, a new day beginning.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader

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gazetto-no-ki · 2 days ago

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2025.01.20 Aoi on IG:

"I’m happy to announce the new Pulse creation to you all on my birthday.

First of all, I love "TAUJAN" created by Hara-san, and I’ve always wished for Hara-san’s work to reach people who love TAUJAN as much as I do.

Somewhere inside me, I always felt that if it came to TAUJAN and Pulse, TAUJAN should take priority.

So when Hara-san said, "Let’s create something together," I was truly overjoyed.

When I heard about the feelings Hara-san poured into this project, I realized that I had been feeling kind of incomplete—my thoughts were scattered and unorganized. It was as if he gave me a strong pat on the back, yet it felt gentle, like he was encouraging me to move forward.

I feel so fortunate to be thought of this way—not only by the members, the fans, and the staff and people involved, but also by Hara-san.

As we talked about this project, the word that came to mind for me was "thoughts" (想).

Maybe it’s because I felt the thoughts and feelings of everyone, and Hara-san, supporting me—keeping me connected so I wouldn’t fall apart.

No other word came to mind.

My signature is, quite literally, the proof (証) of me, and Hara-san brought together the overlapping thoughts of everyone into a single, tangible form. For that, I am deeply grateful from the bottom of my heart.

The thought of this creation reaching everyone’s hands, being cherished, makes me feel shy but also really happy.

I hope it will become a symbol of the feelings that connect me and you all—a bridge between us.

With love to everyone who saved me."

Pulse_Tokyo_ "[NEW ITEM] In celebration of AOI's BIRTHDAY, the release of the new collaboration item "pulse-25" between TAUJAN and Aoi has been decided!

⚫︎ First Pre-order Period Thursday, January 23rd, 18:00 PM (JST) – Friday, January 31st, 11:59 PM (JST)

All customers who place an order during the above period will receive a guarantee card signed by Aoi!

#pulse #TAUJAN #newitem"

Aoi on X: "The Aoi you all know so well, famous for saying "Instagram? What’s that, and how many cc’s?", has updated his Instagram."

"Why was it delayed? Apparently, he thought everyone would be happy if he prepared the photo in a size perfect for smartphone wallpapers. But when he went to upload it, he hit the size limit and had to scramble to resize it to fit the requirements. Isn’t he cute?"

Aoi IG story: "There is a video mixed in ⚠️Don't blink⚠️"

Aoi on X: "There was a video that's about a second long, so I posted it to my story. I thought everyone would panic as it quickly moves on to the next thing, but it just kept looping. Hey, Instagram?"

"Wait, it wasn’t looping like I thought? I posted this and then went back to check, but it wasn’t looping after all. Seriously, wow, it wasn’t!"

#2025 #aoi #ig #x twitter #ig stories #the gazette

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ghost-bard · 2 months ago

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how do i talk about taash being a realistic character while also acknowledging that they absolutely couldve and shouldve been written better in every aspect

#dragon age #dragon age the veilguard #datv #dragon age critical #taash #dragon age taash #i can only take so much “they act like a kid” takes from ppl #or ppl not understanding them saying no one likes being a woman #LIKE CMON #bioware get some non white ppl in that writers room im begging #get some non white trans ppl in there #anyway. i think some of how they act was unintentional can i be honest #to me they read as an autistic person that has a weird relationship with the world around them #i say this. as someone that is that. lmao #its like. man idk. them choosing a culture is dumb and ugh #but also their trans journey is interesting to look at #IDKKK #i wanna talk about them but i dont want weirdos or freaks in my notifs lmao #and like. god they couldve been written so much better #but also ppl not knowing that aqun athlok is a binary within the qun #and could get ascribed to ppl that ARENT that bc the qun has strict gender roles #but we dont see them look into qunari gender roles or customs #or rivaini gender roles/customs #UGHHHHHH bio ware you fumbled but also didnt but you did lord have mercy #if youre reading these #i hope you know these are just my scattered thoughts #one day ill do a real analysis on them #its an issue of them wanting the audience to know theyre nonbinary while also not creating an in world term #like aqun athlok. which again. does not describe taash lmao #and while i think its a good thing how up front their gender indentity is

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martyrbat · 1 year ago

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hm hm hm i feel like this will be really interesting to read with the knowledge of korra and how that effected her instead.... because korra (from my limited knowledge so i could be talking out my ass here) knew she was the avatar at an early age and DID get that community. she had katara and her parents, she had her mentors, she was isolated from the real world during so and perfected the elements other than air (which i kinda recall her struggling with and how its the opposite element of earth so im excited to see if those kinda play out :3) and she was more eager to be the avatar and the excitement and significance it brought (which was a bit clouded by her being sheltered but also would have been expected more before the war impacted things)

i also remember matty saying kyoshi struggled with earth bending (which im super excited to get to and see/see her journey and how it will differ) but!!! i just think its really fun how theyre kinda off the bat setting up this expectation and new grounding for readers who have a past grasp of the avatar universe. even as someone who isnt super familiar with the lore, i know enough to recognize that oh! thats something new!! so just kudos to the writer(s?) for just setting this up to be something very different and in a natural way :3

#again. talking out my ass here. if im an idiot no one say anything okay? okay <3 #but i think its fun to already see some parallels or ways kyoshi and korra are different or similar #and how korra got the set-up stage that was considered ideal (i think?) for these two characters #like !!! the avatar is supposed to know theyre the avatar at a young age!#and aang learning when he was 12 instead?? i think?#or being told hey man you gotta fucking get ready/do your teen duties instead of preeteen ones cause theres a war....#but no sorry my head is scattered i cant keep a line of thought but the point was i know a lot of people bash korra because shes too #‘abrasive’ or comfortable with being the avatar when?? for previous experiences that eagerness was something more expected (i think)#like its so difficult to make a solid grounding argument when im not lore caught up but korras excitement to be the avatar and that she #knows its significant and important is something that would been encouraged before the war because of that hope and belief #that the avatar will keep that balance or save the world when others cant. aang disappearing and the genocide and war #obviously effected how people will see the avatar in universe and how her teachers are more hesitant and restrictive #none of this makes sense im just thinkin to myself while half distracted lol but ! go cringegirl bosses go !!!!#RoK (ransom style)

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bisexualmaedhros · 6 months ago

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transfem furries hornyposting online about the relatively niche/"out there" things they're into have inadvertently helped me accept myself more than the body positivity movement of the 2010s ever did

#this will not be rebloggable because i don't want people to get transmisogynistic in the notes #it's just something i've been thinking about lately #i hope i'm not like out of line for saying this please let me know if i say anything disrespectful #i just have a lot of love in my heart for transfems; especially those who log on to this website to be gay on my dash and do their thing #trans wlw being proud of their identities helped me come to terms with my own in a way. idk how to properly explain it but #idk. our experiences are very different - you have to fight to be seen as a woman and i have to fight not to #(though that is part of my identity in most cases people would use it to negate the rest)#(and of course none of us should Have to fight that but. i hope it's clear what i mean lol)#and idk like. womanhood is not achieved painlessly for you and yet so many of you embrace it so beautifully and in so many ways #it makes me want to accept that part of myself i thought i had to kill for so long #i am not entirely a woman but i love being a woman and loving other women-#platonically romantically sexually it doesn't matter #i'm so grateful i get to share a community with you all and read/hear/watch your thoughts and experiences and such #which goes beyond sex stuff but sex stuff is a particular personal struggle of mine and it's something i've been trying to cultivate a more #healthy relationship to lately. and i also know that unfortunately transfems get treated even worse than everyone else when it comes to #kinks or whatever. i don't mean to imply that everyone has to be open about that stuff. i just mean that i'm grateful for those who bravely #and proudly are. anyway i'm losing my train of thought bc i'm packing for a trip and i'm a little scattered atm but the point is #transfem wlw i love you dearly thank you for existing #[oh also this post isn't meant to bash body positivity stuff and i know it's not all the same. it just often felt too sanitized and forced #for me to relate to. ok bye]#finielspeaks

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almadelsur · 3 months ago

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💋 The Secrets One Keeps

summary: You're in love with jj but he's with kie, so in moments of pure desperation you often find yourself turning to the person he hates the most...rafe

warnings: some good old angsty pining, very very slight smut if you squint, fem!reader, one or two uses of y/n, plz let me know if I missed anything

a/n: SHE'S BACKKKK, so I've decided to completely reformat and re-post this fic with a few tweaks and editing considering i first wrote this like 3 years ago, and yes for those of you who have been asking, I fully intend to finallly continue this fic....more info on that later ;)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

JJ’s eyes change the moment Kiara steps into any room. Immediately his presence is ripped away from your immediate atmosphere, popping the little bubble you'd spent all afternoon crafting as he sprung up to greet the olive-skinned enigma that captured his affections.

“Kie!” The joy in his tone was incomparable to anything he’d directed at anybody else. Nothing could draw out such happiness from the blonde. You hated that about her.

In an attempt at self-defense, your brain shut itself off. Shielding you from processing the scene in front of you, your emotions ran cold like cement pouring down and across your neurons. It was the only way you could survive such a beating to your heart.

You figured that by distancing yourself mentally, you wouldn’t have to raise suspicion and distance yourself physically. In reality, you knew the real reasoning was your inability to stay away from JJ but the facade helped you cope.

“Hey J” she embraced him and his body relaxed around her as if she was the only source of his happiness. The only way he’d find alleviation from what he perceived as a shitty life being through her. “Sorry I’m late my parents had me running like crazy at the wreck today.”

Scattered greetings filled the air from the rest of the pogues, yet you could only focus on the way his eyes fixated on her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Here come sit baby” he offered her the seat he had just previously been place holding. What you thought had been quality time with your best friend, presented itself to you now as momentary attention to pass the time until his actual desire arrived.

Settling herself down and offering you a wide smile, her shoulder bumped against yours gently as a sign of acknowledgment.

“Hey dude” she directed at you, but you didn’t reply. You just couldn’t bring yourself to pretend. Not today anyway. Instead, you offered her a small smile, it was minimal but it was the best you could do under the circumstances.

“Yo" A crumpled tissue paper flew at your head, jj attempting to refocus your attention on him, "didn’t you say you were gonna get some water or something?” He spoke up, the scheme evident in his tone.

“um yeah I guess” You lifted yourself up and took a few steps before jj used the opportunity to slump himself down where you had been sat and sprawled his arms across his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“snooze ya loose sucker” he joked as he turned to Kiara to start up some mindless conversation. Leaving you behind in the dust.

Your teeth gritted as you focused on making your way to the kitchen hoping the distance from the scene unfolding would lift the iron grip on your heart.

You made the fatal mistake of glancing back and you were met with the image of jj nuzzling up to kiara in a picturesque display of love. The lump building at the base of your throat indicated that it was your time to get the hell out of there before you broke down in front of everyone.

“Shit guys, y’know what I just realized I gotta go” You spoke quickly, your tone matching your pace as you rushed to the exit of the chateau.

“You’re still coming to the party later though right?” John B asked, not tearing his eyes away from the screen in front of him.

“Mhm yeah sure” you opened the door ready to depart.

“Shit I forgot about that! Me and jj are gonna be late, we got dinner at the wreck tonight.” kiara added as you stepped out, unable to control the escape of a rogue tear.

“Date night babyyyy” You heard JJ cheer before you slammed the door behind you.

“Is Y/N okay? She seemed a bit off.” Kie nudged JJ as she questioned.

JJ furrowed his eyebrows momentarily. Glancing out the window, he saw you jog away from the house, and a brief flash of worry flashed through his mind. As quick as it came, it dissipated. He shook his head figuring that if there had been something wrong, he’d have been the first to know.

“Nah she’s okay don't worry.” he offered to kie.

Boy was he mistaken.

——————————————————————

“Fuuuck me” you moaned out, sinking into him one last time. You were hot, sweaty, and heaving as you pulled him out of you.

“I thought I just did” Rafe taunted leaning back to lie down, arms crossed behind his head causing his taut abdomen to flex.

You scrambled off the bed, picking up your garments and shoving them back on your body forcefully.

“What, no pillow talk?” He tried again.

“Rafe..” you trailed off. Whenever you’d finish fucking, you’d struggle to even look at him. The self-hatred flooded your body as soon as the orgasm poured out.

“Hey you called me” he eyed you intently but you knew he didn’t actually care. To rafe cameron everything was just a game. At this point it was pretty much common knowledge. “In fact” he moved closer to you so that he could speak directly into your ear “It’s always you that calls me.”

“Don’t be a dick” you stood up and eyed your heels contemplating whether you could face the walk back in them. “You know it makes me feel like shit.” It might have sounded brutal but that’s how things were with rafe.

“Yeah, it’s like you punctuate your orgasms with self-hate.”

“I'm a pogue, rafe.” You argued back as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“So? Kooks and pogues can fuck you know.” You couldn’t comprehend why you were even having this conversation. Why now, why tonight.

“Yeah maybe, not you though.” You didn’t want to tell him the reason explicitly.

“I fuck pogues.”

“You fuck anyone.” The words came out almost instantly and without thinking, yet rafe took no offense.

“Exactly so what’s the issue?”

“The issue is, rafe.” You paused trying to find the words without actually having to say the words. “The issue is that if my friends found out they’d hate me, probably more than I already hate myself.”

He just chuckled, the look in his eyes changing as he figured you out.

“What's funny?” You challenged.

“You don’t have to bullshit me princess.” He looked up at you with a devilish glint in his eye. “You just don’t want jj knowing about your little escapades huh?” Bingo.

“He’s with Kiara.” You shrugged him off.

“Uh huh, you like him but you can’t have him.” Every word he spoke striking a nerve deep within you. “So you’re fucking me to fuck him over.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You grabbed your heels and shoved them on, wincing as you buckled them up.

“Don’t I?” He threw his joggers on lazily as he stood, the level dynamics changing significantly. The older boy towered over you. “Where are they tonight?”

“Back at John B’s, we had a little get-together.” You crossed your arms. More often than not you usually called rafe after a few drinks left you feeling lonely. “Sorry, your invite must have gotten lost in the mail.” You attempted to jab at him with sarcasm yet he clearly held the upper hand with his line of questioning.

“So all of them are there now?” He stepped towards you.

“Mhm,” You lied.

“Even jj?” Moving closer until your neck was craned upwards to meet his eyes.

Taking your silence as an answer, he reached up and ran his palms across your upper arms, prompting you to uncross them.

“He was uh- him and kie should be getting there soon” You mumbled.

“So would i be wrong in guessing, that might have prompted your call then?” You let yourself be guided by his movements leaning your neck further back as his hand trailed up to your jawbone.

“rafe…” you called out insignificantly.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against your neck, right over where he could feel your pulse, and pressed down.

You couldn’t help the gasp that left your mouth. Because as much as your heart belonged to jj, rafe was just so fucking good at raising your temperature.

“Round two?” He mumbled against your neck.

“Yeah..” you attempted yet it came out as a whisper. He grabbed you swiftly and lifted you, moving you across the room and throwing you down onto his bed, crawling on top of you in a predatory manner as he did so. As your back hit the bed, the ringing of your phone brought you back from the haze he had you under.

“Wait rafe stop stop” you pushed him off and grabbed the screeching mobile, pressing it up to your ear. “Hello?”

“Dude, where are you?” The sound of jj’s voice came through over the pumping sound of music and party chatter. “Me and Kie just got back and John B says no one’s seen you for like over an hour.”

“Oh I’m uh, I had to go do something for my mom” The lie pouring out of your mouth caused rafe to chuckle which was of course met by a slap from you signaling for him to be quiet.

“Oh well, when are you getting back? I have to tell you about this date. You’re gonna be so proud of me I actually think I’m ready to tell Kie I love her” you screwed your eyes shut as he spoke.

“Yeah I- you know what I can’t make it back my mom needs me to stay and help out but uh I’ll see you tomorrow or something.” You hung up before he could even reply, throwing your phone down uncaring of its state.

“What’s wrong? They getting hitched?” Rafe spoke up from behind you.

You turned to Rafe, the fire in your veins pushing your arms to grab him, roughly pulling him back onto you.

“Just shut up and fuck me rafe.”

And fuck you he did.

——————————————————————

The next morning you woke up to the sight of rafe’s bare back. Not much of a cuddler, you figured.

Quietly you pushed the covers off and began to dress yourself back up. As you got to your shoes you sighed and shook your head, as if there was any way in hell you were going to walk home in heels. You scooped up your shoes and your now-cracked phone shaking your head, slightly ashamed at your outburst.

Without even a second glance at the sleeping body you were leaving behind, you made your way over to the door. As you turned the knob and stepped out to leave, a husky voice spoke up.

“I’ll keep my ringer on for you babe.”

You rolled your eyes looking back at him, “Fuck you rafe.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m counting on.” He didn’t even open his eyes as he answered, instead just rustling around in the bed and turning to the other side, once again facing his back to you.

You scoffed as you exited. Your internal rant clouded your vision, body on autopilot with an excellent self-navigation of the Cameron house from the countless times you’d made this exit.

“Y/N?” The gentle voice wiped your thoughts clean as the shock stilled you dead in your tracks, slowly turning to come face to face with none other than Sarah.

“Sarah” you drawled out. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s my house?” Her head was cocked to the side, equally shocked to see you.

“No I just mean- I thought you were spending the night at John B’s.” You forced the small talk, avoiding the topic of why you were here, sneaking out at 8 in the morning.

“He had to work today, did you spend the night here?” She glanced up at the door of rafe’s bedroom.

“Umm-“ There had only been two other instances where you had been at a complete loss for words. The day jj told you he and Kiara were dating, the morning after your first sexual encounter with rafe, and now this.

“Are you sleeping with my brother?!” She whisper-shouted, eyes wide as the realization hit her. Busted.

“No?”

“Oh my god!” She grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you to her room, slamming the door as soon as you were both inside. “How long has this been going on?!” Her tone was loud and her hands wild as she interrogated you.

“Just a little under a year.” You sat on her bed and looked at your lap as you spoke. Reminiscent of a child being scolded.

“A year?! Oh my god!” She repeated. “Who knows about this?!”

With that, you looked up at her desperately. “No one. No one knows so please don’t tell them.” You didn’t have to name names for her to know who you were referring to.

“Are you two like” she paused “together?” She scrunched her nose up, disgusted at the thought of her bully of an older brother dating anyone.

“No god no. It’s just sex” you were just as uncomfortable as Sarah was, having to tell her about boning her older brother.

“Disgusting.” She turned away from you with her arms crossed, looking out the window.

“Look I’m not proud of it okay? Just-“ You sighed “Just please don’t tell anyone” pleading again.

Sarah let out a long sigh and uncrossed her arms. She walked over to you and joined you on the bed, her eyes showing concern mixed with something you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

“I thought you were into jj” she spoke softly, there it was. Pity.

“Yeah well, jj is with kie and instead of sitting around wallowing in self-pity, I decided to do something about it.” As the words left your mouth, you realized how weak the explanation was.

“So you just use rafe to bang the jj out of you.”

“It’s not like Rafe cares, if anything he’s also using me.” You tried to reason.

“I don’t doubt that. But I mean, that’s- It’s not healthy, you’ll never move on if you don’t actually process your emotio-“

“Look Sarah, I don’t need to do any of that shit okay? What I have here works, when I fu- when I’m with rafe, I don’t think about jj.” Tears began to swell in your eyes “Sleeping with rafe helps me forget about everything, even if it’s only for a little while he uh- he makes me feel good.” To an extent, there was truth behind your words, while you and rafe fucked the rest of the world went away. It was only after, that the crippling self-hatred hit you along with the return of your immense feelings for jj.

Sarah shuffled over and threw her arm around you. “That’s not good for you, it’s just momentary. It’s easy and it's a cycle, you’re never going to get better going down this path. Especially not with rafe.”

“Rafe he’s- he’s not that bad.”

“Yes he is. But i bet it gives you satisfaction fucking him knowing jj hates him. Feels like revenge right?” She’d always been so perceptive your Sarah, you hated how she could see right through you.

Tears ran down your cheek silently. “You’re not gonna tell anyone right?” You sniffled.

She gave you one of those classic salt-of-the-earth Sarah Cameron smiles, the kinda smile that would light up any room she walked into. “Takin' it to the grave babe.”

A loud beeping caused both your heads to whip towards the window. “Shit, I completely forgot I was supposed to go on the HMS with pope and jj, we were gonna chill there until John B and Kie finished work.” She rose to her feet and extended an arm towards you. “Wanna come? Or we could drop you home if you’re not up for it.”

With a sigh you took her hand and pulled yourself up, walking beside her as you mentally prepped yourself to face the blonde you desperately pined for.

“Well rise and shine campers.” jj yelled out of the window of the drivers seat.

“Y/N! Where you been dude? you totally bailed last night.” Pope was next to speak as you and Sarah filed into the Twinkie. As JJ began to drive you avoided any form of eye contact in his general direction.

“I had to go help my mom out, blackout at mine again.” You didn’t even look at pope either, instead focusing your attention on the blur of trees and houses pacing by the window as JJ sped down the winding roads.

“Isn’t that what you were wearing last night?” pope, observant as always, pointed out.

“Uh yeah, I didn’t really get any time to change cause…”

“I called her last night when I got home, I was so drunk I don’t think I was ready to stop the party.” Sarah covered for you.

“Yeah I wrapped up helping my mom out and then this one calls me talkin bout a sleepover or something so I didn’t exactly have much time to change.”

Thankfully pope had lost interest as soon as he had asked the question, otherwise, your overcompensating ass would have been caught out straight away. You always had to add to the lie until you felt like you had sold it completely.

Keeping your eyes trained on the outside meant that jj’s frown directed at you through the windscreen mirror went completely undetected. He always knew whenever there was something up with you and right there and then he knew something definitely was.

“Hey, you okay?” He didn’t need to address you explicitly for you to know he was talking to you.

“Yeah just tired.” You shrugged him off in an attempt to distance yourself from him yet again.

He knew you were lying but he didn’t understand why, you never lied to each other. Apart from John B, the pair of you were closer to each other than with anybody else in the group. You’d been best friends since kindergarten, and since then you’d sworn 3 things to each other.

1- You’d always share your snacks.

2-You’d always be best friends even if you argued.

3- You would never ever lie or keep secrets from each other.

Of course, as the both of you grew older the rules became more and more lax. The snack sharing was limited only to when you felt nice enough and sometimes you’d go for days without making up if you had argued particularly badly. Having kept two friendship-breaking secrets from him, the childhood rules seemed pretty insignificant by now.

“Mhm,” he responded, flickering his eyes between you and the road. “Are we taking you home to change first?”

“Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll join you guys afterward though.” You chewed down on your nail anxiously as the tension from being in the same space as jj paired with the guilt from having fucked rafe prior, suffocated you.

JJ made a face as he focused on the road, something was wrong with you and he’d be dammed if he wasn’t going to put his everything into finding out what that was.

#back on my shit #jj Maybank #Rafe Cameron #jj maybank x reader #rafe cameron x reader #love triangle #obx #outer banks #outer banks fic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron angst #jj maybank x you #rafe cameron x you #tsok #the secrets one keeps

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aliyahwritings · 3 months ago

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ARE YOU JEALOUS?

Summary: Sassy!Kook!Reader gets jealous when she sees Rafe Cameron close with another girl...

Content: neck sucking (?), childhood friends to lovers, kind of mean!rafe in one scene, bullying lol, suggestive towards the end but just a tiny bit.

Words Count: 5.5k ... i don't know what the fuck happened...

Aliyah's talking: IDK if i fw this or not but i hope yall will lolz <3 Thank you so much for the love on Protective Instincts btw!!!! I am so grateful and surprised that many of you all enjoyed it. Hope u'll enjoy this one too 🩷

Sunlight streamed into Sarah’s room, casting a soft, golden glow over the space as you lounged on her bed, idly flipping through a magazine. You both were sprawled across the plush, yellow covers, surrounded by half-empty bags of chips and scattered makeup palettes—evidence of an afternoon well spent. Sarah was perched by the vanity, trying on different lip glosses, all of which looked beautiful on her, but she insisted on which one was the best.

“So, tell me again,” she started, holding up a tube of shimmery pink gloss and squinting at it thoughtfully. “Why don’t you go for Jake? I mean, he’s cute, he’s smart—”

“And boring. He is boring,” you interjected, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “Come on, Sarah, you know how I am. I need someone with a little more… edge…? Someone that could handle me but also play the game, you know?”

Sarah smirked, setting the lip gloss down and turning to face you. “Edge… Handling your attitude… I’m afraid that weirdly sounds like someone we both know.”

“You think you’re so funny, huh?” you said, shooting her a mock glare.

She laughed, completely unbothered. "What? I’m just stating the facts!" She shrugged, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "As much as I hate to admit it, my brother definitely fits both criteria, so…”

You were listening to her but stopped when your phone buzzed. Out of habit, you unlocked it and opened the notification from Instagram; Topper posted a new story and you watched it. The screen was filled with a shaky video of the beach, the late afternoon sun casting golden light over everything. You recognized some people, but your attention zeroed in on Rafe, right in the center of it all. He was grinning, his arm slung around a girl who was laughing and pulling him closer, like they were the only two people on the beach.

You felt a quick, unwelcome pang in your chest.

“Hey, what’s got you so interested?” Sarah’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you glanced back at her, masking any hint of emotion with a casual smirk.

You locked the screen and tossed the phone aside. “Nothing. Just Topper’s beach parties and Instagram stories.”

She gave you a skeptical look, folding her arms. “Don’t lie to me. I know you better than yourself, what did you see in that story, Y/N?”

You hesitated, but then shrugged, trying to play it off. “Rafe was at the party with some girl. A new girl. It’s not a big deal.”

“Ah, I see,” she said with a raised eyebrow. “You know he’s always messing around with someone new. But… I thought you didn’t care about what he was up to.”

“I don’t,” you said, a bit too quickly, crossing your arms. “He can do whatever the hell he wants.”

“Right. So, you don’t care at all?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. “Look, I just don’t get what’s so special about him that girls keep falling over themselves to be around him. That’s all.”

She nodded with a giggle. “Yeah, no, I definitely—”

“And doesn’t it bother anyone that he’s got a new girl every week? I mean, if I were one of those girls who actually liked him, I’d be furious. Wouldn’t you, Sar?” You barely paused before continuing, not even waiting for her answer. “It’s honestly just sad because Rafe really isn’t even all that. Sure, he can be fun and nice sometimes, but he’s also a huge asshole with a big fucking ego. Is it just me, or is everyone blind to that?”

Sarah was quiet for a moment, studying you with a thoughtful expression before she finally spoke up. “You know what? I think we could both use a break from overthinking anything about the opposite sex. How about we get out of here and grab some smoothies? I heard there’s a new spot by the marina.”

You nodded, grateful that she didn’t talk about your little moment. “Yeah, let’s go.”

Sarah grabbed her bag, giving you one last teasing smile. “Smoothies and maybe some retail therapy afterward?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you replied, letting the idea of a carefree afternoon replace the lingering thoughts of Rafe. Whatever he was up to, it was his business. You weren’t about to let it ruin your day.

The soft hum of the fridge and the rhythmic clinking of silverware filled the kitchen as you, Sarah, and Rafe gathered around the island, your weekly routine as ingrained as the family photos lining the walls. The night was settling in, casting a cozy stillness over the room. You were only half-listening as Sarah rambled on about her weekend plans, your attention instead focused on pushing pasta around on your plate, not particularly hungry.

Rafe sat across the counter, leaning back in his chair with an ease that always seemed to irritate you. He had been quiet, too but you knew he wouldn’t last long. Sure enough, he broke the silence.

“Alright,” he began, raising an eyebrow at you, “what’s up with you tonight? You’re awfully quiet.”

You didn’t look up, keeping your tone purposefully casual. “Nothing’s up,” you replied, hoping he’d let it go. But you knew better.

“Come on,” he pressed, tilting his head in that infuriatingly smug way. “Where’s that feisty attitude you always have? Usually, by now, you’d have already made at least five smartass comments about my shirt or something.”

You let out a short, unimpressed laugh, finally meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “Maybe I just ran out of things to say about you, Rafael. Ever think of that?”

He grinned, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Nah. You’ve got an endless supply of attitude, Y/N. I’d be shocked if you were ever actually out of material.” He took a sip from his glass, watching you over the rim with that familiar, infuriating smirk.

Sarah shot you a look, her mouth twisted in a tired smile as she mouthed, here we go. She had seen this routine a thousand times before.

“You really think I spend that much time thinking about you?” you fired back, folding your arms over your chest and fixing him with an unimpressed stare.

“Oh, I don’t think,” he replied smoothly, leaning in a little closer, “I know. Admit it. I’m in your head, aren’t I?”

You let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning back in your chair as you tossed him an indifferent look. “Right. You’re the center of my world, Rafe. Can’t you tell?”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying this. “You know, when you’re this quiet, it’s like a fucking flashing neon sign saying, ‘Something’s up’. Might as well tell me now.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew that engaging with him like this was a slippery slope—once you started, he never let up. But for some reason, tonight, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Honestly, I don’t have the energy for your little mind games tonight,” you said, trying to sound as bored as possible. “So, if you’re expecting me to entertain you, you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“Oh, come on. I don’t believe that for a second,” he shot back, leaning back casually in his chair as if he had all the time in the world to wear you down. “You love this. Sparring with me? It’s basically your favorite hobby.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. "Didn’t realize my silence was such a tragedy for you.”

“Oh, it is. I mean, where else am I supposed to get my daily dose of attitude?” He leaned back, feigning a pout. “Come on, you’re no fun like this. Did something happen?”

You rolled your eyes, twirling your fork in the pasta as if it held your entire focus. “Why would you care? I’m sure you have more important things to worry about. Maybe more girl—”

Sarah let out a sigh, interrupting before Rafe could respond. “Honestly, do you two ever get tired of this? We’re supposed to be having dinner, and it feels like I’m watching some sort of weird rom-com.”

You shot Sarah an exasperated look. “There’s nothing romantic about this, Sar. It’s called surviving.”

“Right,” Sarah said, clearly unconvinced. “But could you maybe survive without the constant bickering? Just once?”

Rafe smirked, clearly unfazed by Sarah’s comment as he turned back to you. “I don’t know. I think she secretly enjoys it. You should see how she lights up when she gets going.”

“Fuck off,” you muttered, taking a long sip from your glass and hoping it would mask the heat you could feel rising in your cheeks.

He watched you with an amused glint in his eye, clearly picking up on your discomfort. “A little defensive, aren’t we? I mean, I’m just stating the obvious here. You’ve been on edge all night. Care to share with the class what’s really bothering you?”

You set your glass down with a little more force than necessary, fixing him with a glare. “You really think everything’s about you, don’t you?”

“Not everything,” he replied, shrugging casually. “Just the things that involve you. Because, for some reason, every time you’re in a mood, it usually has something to do with me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but then closed it again, unsure of how to respond without giving anything away. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d hit a nerve, even if he had.

“What’s the matter, princess?” he continued, pushing his plate aside as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did something happen between you and Jake, huh? I thought you two were casually talk—”

You groaned, frustrated that he’d brought Jake into it. “There’s nothing to say about Jake. I’m just tired, okay? Not everything has to be about some guy.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Rafe replied, his tone laced with a hint of smugness. “But I’d say you’re a little more…on edge than usual. So, it has to be about that guy, right…”

“Jake’s got nothing to do with this,” you said, your tone steady. “Unlike you, he actually knows how to mind his own business.”

Well, you’re just lying because you’ve never taken the time to actually learn about Jake and what type of person he was. As bitchy as it sounded, you were using him as a distraction.

You stared at him, hoping your silence would be enough to make him drop it. But, of course, he didn’t.

Rafe crossed his arms as he studied you, his gaze never wavering. “So, you’re saying you prefer a guy who lets you get away with whatever you want, then?”

You scoffed. “No, Rafe. I am saying I prefer a guy who doesn’t feel the need to stick his nose into everything I do. You know, a guy who’s secure enough to let me be without constantly needing to provoke me.”

“Yeah, I see,” he replied, nodding softly. “So, basically, you’re looking for someone boring. Someone who doesn’t challenge you, who just lets you coast by. Am I right?”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “You think you know me so well, don’t you? Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron. I can find someone else to annoy me if I really wanted to.”

Rafe’s eyes darkened, but that infuriating smirk stayed in place, like he thrived on every bit of tension between you. He cocked an eyebrow, leaning forward, his voice a low, taunting whisper. “Oh yeah? Who, exactly? Jake? He’s perfect for you—goody-two-shoes, never steps out of the fucking line. Because, let’s be honest, you’d crush him. He’d never call you out, never push you.” He paused, and there was a bitterness beneath his words, hidden but unmistakable. “He’d be safe.”

A bitter smile twisted your lips, the pain creeping into your voice despite your best efforts. “At least Jake knows how to be respectful. He wouldn’t stoop to tearing me down just to get a rise. He wouldn’t need to.”

Rafe scoffed, his amusement tinged with a hint of anger. “Respectful? Fuck that. You want someone to play nice and tell you what you want to hear, go right ahead. But I think we both know that’s not what you really want.” He took a step closer, his gaze fierce, challenging. “You think I’m the bad guy because I’m not afraid to tell you the truth. I don’t play pretend. I’m not here to tell you sweet lies—I’d rather see who you really are, even if that means pissing you off.”

You narrowed your eyes, fury blazing in your chest. He was looking right at you, like he could see through every layer you tried so hard to put up. But there was something deeper in his gaze, a flicker of something that made your heart race even as anger burned within you. And you hated that he could do that—make you feel so exposed, so raw, yet so alive all at once.

But to him, this was just another game. He thrived on your frustration, on the way he could get under your skin with just a few well-placed words. It was a twisted power play, a battle neither of you were willing to lose. And for a moment, the air between you was charged, almost electrifying, the tension so thick it was nearly suffocating.

You wanted to hate him, but a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he was right—if he really did see through to the parts of you that no one else dared to touch.

But that only made you angrier, and you felt a surge of resentment rise within you, pushing you over the edge. With a sudden flash of fury, you slammed your fists onto the table, the sound echoing through the room, your voice sharp and cutting. “You know what? Fuck you, Rafe Cameron.”

Without another word, you turned and stormed out.

The sound reverberated through the Cameron household, leaving a heavy silence. Rafe stood there, fists clenched, trying to swallow down the mix of anger and something else—something that felt dangerously close to longing.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at her brother. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Rafe shot her a look, irritation simmering just beneath the surface. “You don’t get it, Sarah. She’s… She’s infuriating.”

But then he hesitated, his gaze drifting toward the door you had just stormed out of. The edge of his lips twitched in a way that was all too vulnerable, too honest. “But there’s something about her,” he admitted, his voice softening. “She’s fierce and passionate. When she’s angry, it’s like she’s alive in a way I can’t help but be drawn to. It’s frustrating, but… but she’s not afraid to challenge me, to call me out.” He paused, searching for the right words, his heart racing.

“And so that makes it right for you to annoy her to that point?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t help it. I want her to see the real me, too. It’s like I can’t breathe when she’s around and then—when she leaves? It’s like the air just… disappears.” He ran a hand through his hair, a mix of confusion and desire etched across his features. “She challenges me in ways I never expected, and it drives me insane, but I can’t help but want more of her.”

“Wow,” Sarah said softly, her voice full of surprise. “I didn’t think I’d see the day Rafe Cameron talked about someone like this—but mess around with her like that one more time, and I’ll hurt you.”

The sun spilled into your bedroom, casting a warm glow that felt inviting. But you stirred, still brimming with the tumult of emotions from last night. Rafe’s words echoed in your mind—his teasing, the way he pushed your buttons, and the way your heart raced despite your annoyance. You groaned and rolled over, pulling the blanket over your head, hoping to drown out the memories.

But then laughter broke through the haze of your thoughts. It was bright and carefree, drifting in through the open window. Intrigued, you tossed off the blanket and slid out of bed, your curiosity piqued. A quick glance outside revealed the source of the joyful sounds: Sarah, Wheezie, and Rafe were out by the pool, splashing water and playfully throwing each other around.

Rafe, wearing nothing but swim trunks that hung low on his hips, was the centerpiece of the scene, effortlessly drawing your gaze. His tanned skin glimmered, accentuating the muscles that rippled as he dove and surfaced in the water, laughter spilling from his lips, infectious and buoyant.

You caught yourself ogling him, eyes roaming over the way the water dripped from his hair, the way his body moved with ease and confidence. It wasn’t fair, really—how could someone be so effortlessly captivating? The sun caught the edges of his grin as he tossed Wheezie playfully into the pool, the sound of her laughter ringing out like music.

You were lost in the moment, so caught up in the heat of his gaze that you didn’t even notice the way your thighs clenched together, craving the contact that felt just out of reach. All you could think about was the overwhelming desire to touch him—everywhere. You imagined your hands gliding over his toned chest, feeling the hard flex of his biceps beneath your fingertips, tracing the lines of his powerful arms as they wrapped around your body, waist, and ass pulling you closer.

You wanted him. God, did you want him.

Why did he have this effect on you? Why was he constantly invading your thoughts, even now?

A sudden buzz from your phone pulled you from your reverie. You grabbed it from the bedside table and saw a message from Sarah: “Get your ass out here! We’re in the pool, it’s fun! You’ll want to join us!”

A smile tugged at your lips at Sarah's enthusiasm, but a moment of hesitation passed as you remembered the tension of last night. Still, you didn’t want to be the odd one out. With a determined sigh, you pulled yourself away from the window and began to get ready.

You rummaged through your drawers, searching for that one bikini that made you look stunning and earned you a handful of compliments every time you wore it. Finally, you found it: a deep emerald green that contrasted perfectly against your skin tone. It was cut high, accentuating your legs, the top was daring, showing just enough to leave to the imagination. You paired it with a pair of denim shorts.

You headed towards the back door, nerves swirling in your stomach. As you stepped outside, the head of the sun hit you like a wave, and the sounds of laughter grew louder.

“You’re awake!” Sarah exclaimed, her voice bright and cheerful. “I thought we’d have to drag you out here!”

You laughed lightly, feeling a playful energy surge within you. “I’m here, aren’t I?” You shot back, trying to keep your tone light as you made your way toward the pool.

Wheezie exclaimed, eyes wide of admiration. “Wow, Y/N! Look at you!”

“Thanks!” you replied, trying to play it cool but secretly loving the attention. You glanced at Rafe, who had turned to face you, and your heart raced at the sight of him leaning against the pool’s edge, water cascading down his toned body.

His gaze lingered on you, a mix of surprise and appreciation playing across his features. “Well, well, if it isn’t the queen herself,” he teased, that infuriating smirk stretching across his face. “Nice of you to join us.”

You rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, feigning indifference as you busied yourself with anything but him. The events of last night were still fresh in your mind, a heated clash that left you reeling and more than a little irritated. You were determined not to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“Oh, so I get the silent treatment?” he drawled, his voice dripping with playful disbelief. “I’m devastated,” he added, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that infuriatingly irresistible smirk that always made your heart flutter.

Instead, you focused on Sarah and Wheezie, who were gleefully splashing water at each other. You couldn’t help but feel the pull of their energy.

Hours rolled by and you settled onto a lounge chair, you could feel Rafe’s eyes on you, the heat of his gaze igniting your skin in a way that both thrilled and annoyed you. He was still in the pool, looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive. You didn’t know but you were driving him crazy with that attitude of yours, this whole ignoring thing and your fucking bikini.

Sarah and Wheezie went inside the house to prepare some snacks and drinks for us because we were getting hungry and thirsty, leaving only Rafe and you.

You pulled your phone, pretending to scroll through social media, anything to distract yourself from the way your heart raced at his presence. A notification lit up your phone, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Jake’s name flash across the screen. The excitement surged through you as you opened the message:

"Hey, gorgeous. I really like you, and I’d love to take you out sometime. You in?"

He was cute—way too cute.

A grin crept onto your lips, and for once, you allowed yourself to enjoy the attention from someone who wasn’t toying with your emotions. Someone who actually seemed genuine. No games, no mixed signals. Just interest. The kind that felt refreshing after dealing with someone who never seemed to know what he wanted.

You barely had time to revel in it before Rafe’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and demanding. “What’s got you smiling like that?”

Your grip tightened on your phone instinctively, and you flicked your gaze up to him, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, nothing. Just a friend,” you said, slipping your phone screen down against your thigh.

Rafe wasn’t buying it. His eyes narrowed, skepticism written all over his face. “Just a friend, huh?” His voice had that dangerous edge to it, the one you knew too well. “Funny, you don’t usually smile like that over friends.”

You felt his eyes burning into you, but you refused to give him the satisfaction. “Really? Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” you teased, biting back the smirk threatening to break free.

Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Who was it?”

“Like I said, just a friend,” you repeated, your voice smooth, but now you were teasing on purpose. You could feel his irritation rising, and part of you enjoyed it. “What, are you jealous or something?”

He scoffed, though you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened. “Why the hell would I be jealous?” he snapped, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than you. “I’m just asking a question.”

“Uh-huh.” You raised an eyebrow, leaning back and tilting your head, watching him closely. “Right. Just a casual question, huh? Totally doesn’t sound like someone’s jealous.”

His hands were now resting on the edge of the pool, gripping it just a little too tightly. “I’m not jealous,” he repeated, but the way his gaze darted to your phone said otherwise. “But if it’s someone trying to get at you, then yeah, I wanna know. Who is it?”

“Someone,” you said vaguely, enjoying the fact that Rafe was teetering on the edge of losing it. “Someone who’s interested, clearly.”

Rafe’s eyes flared, and the jealousy in his voice became impossible to miss. “Interested in what? You?” His lips curled into a scowl, his muscles tense. “What, you think some random guy’s gonna—”

“Maybe,” you cut in, your smile growing. “Maybe he’s actually straightforward, you know? No mind games, no drama. Just a guy who knows what he wants.”

His brows shot up, the implication stinging. “And you think I don’t know what I want?”

You shrugged, not backing down an inch. “Well, you never seem to make it that clear. Maybe someone else is going to take your place as my—”

The possessiveness in his eyes flared. He pushed himself up out of the pool, water dripping from his shoulders as he moved closer, his presence looming over you. “No one’s stepping up, got it? No one’s taking my place.”

You met his gaze, unflinching, even as your heart raced a little faster. “Oh? And what exactly is your place, Rafe?”

He leaned in, the heat between you practically crackling. “You know damn well where my place is,” he murmured, his voice low, daring, yet with a hint of uncertainty creeping in. “And I’m not about to let some bitch ass slide in because you think I don’t care.”

You smiled, tilting your head, savoring the tension. “Seems like you do care. Maybe more than you want to admit.”

“Because I do care, Y/N,” he murmured softly, swiping his wet thumb across your cheek. “I told you already that I cared way too damn much.”

Rafe’s thumb lingered on your cheek, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through your body despite the heat of the day. His eyes held yours, dark and intense, as if he were trying to convey all the words he couldn’t quite say aloud. The air between you was thick, charged with a tension that had been building for far too long.

You swallowed hard, trying to hold onto some semblance of control, but it was a losing battle. “Your way of showing it is fucked, Rafe.”

Your words were meant to cut, but they came out softer than you intended, almost like a challenge. His jaw tightened, but instead of snapping back with some cocky retort, he stepped even closer. The scent of chlorine and his skin invaded your senses, and you couldn’t help but notice how his muscles tensed as he towered over you, dripping with water, his presence commanding.

“I care,” he repeated, his voice lower now, almost a growl. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to your eyes, like he was making a decision in real time. “I care more than you know.”

Before you could muster a reply, his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, your breath hitching as his lips hovered near your ear. “I think you know exactly what my place is,” he murmured, his voice rough with unspoken desire. “And you’re not running from it.”

His breath was hot against your skin, sending a wave of heat cascading down your spine. He didn’t move right away, as if savoring the tension that crackled between you, the nearness, the inevitability of it all. Your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse quickening as his lips brushed, ever so lightly, against the sensitive spot just below your ear.

You gasped, your hands instinctively gripping the fabric of your shorts as your body reacted to him, heat pooling low in your belly. “Rafe…” you whispered, not quite a protest, but not quite giving in either.

But he wasn’t about to back down now. He shifted closer, his mouth grazing the curve of your neck, soft at first, then firmer, the scrape of his teeth making your pulse race. Your skin ignited under his touch, and a low moan escaped your lips before you could stop it.

“You feel that?” he whispered, his lips trailing lower, his voice husky and thick with need. “That’s not some game. That’s real.”

Your body arched toward him of its own accord, your resistance melting as his hands slid down to your waist, fingers pressing firmly into your skin, pulling you closer. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck, his lips teasing, torturing, as they brushed along your collarbone. Every touch, every whisper was setting your nerves alight, and you were dizzy with the intensity of it.

“You’re such an ass,” you muttered, trying to keep a shred of control, but your voice lacked conviction.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Maybe,” he agreed, his lips brushing the spot just beneath your ear again, sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. “But you can’t stop thinking about me, can you?”

You hated how right he was. You hated how easily he could unravel you, how even now, you were leaning into his touch, craving more of it. But there was no way you were giving him the satisfaction of hearing it.

“Stop being so cocky,” you managed to whisper, though your voice wavered with the desire that coursed through you.

But Rafe wasn’t in the mood to stop. His hand slid to your lower back, pulling your body flush against his, the coolness of his skin mingling with your own heat. You could feel the hard lines of his body pressed against yours, his chest rising and falling as his lips grazed your shoulder, his teeth scraping lightly against your skin, just enough to make you shudder.

“Admit it,” he murmured against your neck, his voice a deep, rough command. “You want this.”

You closed your eyes, fighting to hold onto your last thread of self-control, but the tension between you was overwhelming, suffocating. His lips moved lower, placing slow, deliberate kisses along your collarbone, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Your breath came in ragged gasps as your body betrayed you, leaning into him, craving the heat of his touch, the weight of his gaze, the way he made you feel like the only person in the world.

“Rafe…” you breathed, your voice barely audible, as his hand slid down to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin possessively. You could feel his breath on your neck, his lips hovering just above the place where your pulse raced beneath the surface.

“I want you, Y/N,” he whispered against your skin, his voice raw, filled with the desire that had been simmering between you for what felt like forever. “And I’m not letting anyone else have you.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could think better of it, your hands were in his hair, pulling him closer, your body aching for the contact you’d been denying yourself for so long.

Your lips collided with his in a heated rush, all the pent-up tension and desire finally unraveling between you. Rafe’s hands immediately gripped your hips, pulling you impossibly closer as he kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. His lips were demanding, rough and hungry, but there was a softness to the way he held you, like he wanted to savor every second. You melted into him, fingers tangling in his wet hair, feeling the slickness of the pool water on his skin as his body pressed against yours.

The taste of him, mixed with the faint tang of chlorine, was intoxicating. It was all-consuming, drowning out every rational thought. He kissed you like he was staking his claim, like he wanted to erase any trace of doubt from your mind, and for a moment, you let him. Your body responded instinctively, arching against his as his hands roamed down your back, gripping you tighter.

When you finally broke apart, both of you gasping for air, Rafe’s forehead rested against yours, his eyes dark with desire and something deeper—something more vulnerable. His chest heaved as he looked at you, his breath coming in ragged bursts. “I like you, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “I like you so much it drives me crazy. No more pretending.”

You stared into his eyes, searching for any hint of the cocky facade he usually wore, but it was gone. This was Rafe stripped bare, no teasing, no arrogance—just raw honesty. It made your heart race in a way that had nothing to do with the kiss.

Your breath caught in your throat as you considered what he was saying. Could you trust him? Could you really let your guard down and give in to this, knowing how easily he could hurt you?

But before you could overthink it, he kissed you again, slower this time, more deliberate. His lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache, and all your doubts melted away. At that moment, it didn’t matter what had happened before, or what might happen after. All that mattered was how he made you feel right now—wanted, desired, seen.

Rafe pulled back, his thumb brushing gently against your bottom lip, his eyes flicking between yours. “Tell me you feel it too,” he whispered, his voice rough, almost pleading. “Tell me I’m not the only one. Tell me, princess.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. There was no point in pretending anymore. “You’re not,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “You drive me crazy, Rafe, too—I don’t want to feel this way, but I do.”

His lips curved into a small, triumphant smile, but there was relief in his eyes too, like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for you to say it. “Good,” he murmured, his hand cupping your face as his thumb stroked your cheek. “Because I don’t think I can let you go.”

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biteyoubiteme · 3 months ago

Text

black cherry flavored

ot5 txt x fem!reader

synopsis: how many ghostfaces are there again?

warnings: 🔞!!! gangbang, mentions of drinking, getting scared, fearplay? reader gets chased through house and doesnt know who it is, knifeplay (only used to cut off underwear), clit play, mean dom moments, filming during sex, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (f!), creampie(s), marking, subspace, fingering, oral (m! rec), hair pulling!, overstim (f!rec), she/her used prob forgot some

wc: 9.2k (this one got away from me)

an: this is not proofread at all im so so so sorry forgive me sweet angel ily but I cannot believe october is over and this event has come to an end ;-; I hope you guys like this one! im a HUGE horror movie fan so I was excited to do this and hopefully it turned out well. I went with a different approach for a scream fic that was kinda based on different aspects from the movies and I hope you like it! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the rest of the fics! [dumdum m.list]

"whats your favorite scary movie?"

You roll your eyes, hand coming up to cover the screen of your laptop. “Aren't you supposed to be doing your own work not pestering me about mine?”

It was late in the night, the library dead silent besides the hum of the heater and faint typing on stiff keyboards. The door to the study space was cracked just enough to hear the elevator if it dinged, the indicator the floor would soon be closing for the cleaning staff. The clock on the wall told you it was close to one in the morning, only an hour away from the library being cleared and closed.

“I'm avoiding the rest of my essay,” beomgyu shrugs, clicking his pen as a signal for an end to the line of questioning. “Annoying you just seemed like a better plan,”

“Annoying all of us, I needed this done an hour ago,” yeonjun doesn't even look up from his laptop, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, lenses glossed over with the light from his screen, fingers speeding over the keys only to pause and jam the delete button. “Fuck, i lost my train of thought,”

“It's already late, just turn it in tomorrow morning,” huening suggests, slouched back in his chair, thumbs nibbly swiveling on the joystick of his switch. “The syllabus said it was ten points off no matter how late after twelve you submit it,”

“Don't talk to me right now, you got yours in on time. And I'm getting this done tonight whether I like it or not. I won't be able to handle looking at it tomorrow morning. the paper just won't get turned in at all if that happens,” yeonjuns back to typing furiously squinting at his laptop not noticing kais grin.

“You should have listened to me about meeting up at nine, but nooo-”

“Huening,” yeonjun warns.

“I'm just saying…”

Yeonjun picks up one of Soobin's scattered pens from the table, tossing it at Kai hitting him in the lap. And when Kai just laughs, Yeonjun picks up a few more to throw, the showering of pens making Kai yelp.

“Shhh,” soobin doesn't even lift his head to see what's going on. He and tae had been trying to sleep for the better part of two hours, Taehyun having found success, sliding two chairs together to prop his legs up. He pulled his hat down over his eyes and hasn't said anything since closing them. Soobin only crossed his arms and laid his head down, leg bouncing showing he was still struggling to actually find it in him to sleep without his bed.

The six of you usually booked the room on Friday nights from nine to two, blocking the time to try and catch up on work before the weekend. It was either the time you got the most work done or none at all. You're surprised it took beomgyu this long to finally turn away from his assignment at this point he's usually at the whiteboard doodling or trying to get everyone to play dirty hangman.

It was easier to get all of you together here instead of one of your small dorms, the space hardly big enough for three people let alone six. In the library you didn't have to worry about cramming together, the fourth floors study spaces equipped with long tables and eight chairs. Out of the two libraries on campus this one didn't have many people visit often, especially not when the walk from any of the dorms was twice as long. The fourth floor was empty and quiet except for the group's laughter on nights you didn't worry about work.

“You didn't answer that question,” beomgyu points out again, pointer finger pushing away your hand blocking the screen, “what's your favorite scary movie?”

“I didn't answer it because I can't choose,” you confess, scrolling through the paper you're writing for class.

“Is your homework twenty questions?” soobins voice is muffled, annoyed and sleep-ridden.

“No-”

beomgyu cuts you off before you could explain, brows scrunching as he reads. “Looks like it, this one is ‘what are the rules around sex’ there is no way this actually for your class,”

“What?” this pulls soobins head up, the messy strands of his dark hair sticking up around his forehead.

“Of course you wake up when you hear the word sex,” yeonjun quips, pursing his lips reading over his work on his screen.

“No need to wake up you type so loud i couldn't fall asleep,” soobin says brushing his long fingers through his hair, you always noticed the later it got the grumpier he became, pouting lips and half lidded eyes always making an appearance after midnight.

“It's for my film studies class. We’re learning about the rules of horror,” its clarification enough for soobin who nods but beomgyu lets his head tilt to the side, the vision of a question mark.

“Rules? You can't just send a killer in, have them spill some blood, and call it a day?”

“You could, but i'm sure it would follow a pattern, even without you realizing it,” scrolling through your work you pause on the first option. “First you have to think about the time period when the movie was filmed. Most of the popular ones ranged from the 80’s to the early 2000’s. A huge push in most cultures is the topics of sex, drugs, and money. It's the three things people try to control the most. Throw a bunch of badly behaving teens in with a psycho killer playing god and you can tell the masses how wrong something is. Like having sex,”

“So wrong it would get you killed?”

“Yup, in most, if not all, horror movies the people who have sex on screen or are known for sleeping around get killed off, leaving the poor virgin alive. Main characters who live to the end also don't drink, or do drugs. Rich people aren't safe, especially if you have a big empty house with lots of stairs, doors, and windows. The more for you to make the wrong decision not to exit from,”

“Then who does live?” Kai asks, game paused in hand.

“The girl next door lead, never her boyfriend, the camera man, unless you see him leave the group because you should never leave the group under any circumstances. But everyone else is fair game. Oh and if you say ‘i'll be right back,’ the lines a killer in and of itself,”

“So I'd die because I like to have a good time?” yeonjun asks, fingers paused on his keys as he looks over at you. Everyone but tae is turned in your direction, listening intently.

“Unless you're the killer, or lucky because you weren't in line of the camera when you decided it was smart enough to leave the house. It's very kill or be killed. Another rule is to never trust anyone,”

“The list just gets longer and longer,” soobin sits back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head as he stretches, “you know i saw this one post on twitter that some people like the whole masked killer thing, gets them off,”

“Of course you would be on twitter looking at stuff like that,” gyu fakes disappointment, shaking his head, “this is exactly why you wouldn't survive, you're a closeted perv,”

“I don't know about closeted perv, he was openly scrolling past hentai the other day in the dorm,” yeonjun is back to typing, soobin kicking the foot of his chair.

“Past it, i didn't pause on it,”

“It was on your for you page! Clearly you have a habit of liking things akin to it,”

“I don't know, I think it's kinda hot, the mask thing. or i guess more so the build up of fear, it's almost like foreplay, your pulse starts going, you get all flushed. And I did see this clip of these two guys dressed up…” this wouldn't be the first time any of you confessed to watching something that turned you on. All of you had been friends for years, growing up nothing had ever been an off limits topic. You can see the video in your head, the way they held the girl between them; how they manhandled her down onto the bed.

“So you and soobin are both freaks,” beomgyu grins, the need to tease showing right in his eyes.

“A threesome is not freaky,” Taehyun states, breaking his silence, hat still over his eyes, fully relaxed and laid back. If you hadn't known the sound of his voice you would have assumed he was still asleep, if he had even been asleep in the first place.

“Agreed, anything over three is a little freaky,” soobin shrugs, bending over halfway out of his chair to pick up his fallen pens.

“So would you? Sleep with more than two people at once?” gyu asks, the tilt back to his head, “this is the true test if you're freaky or not,” he chuckles.

“I mean yeah… would you?” The question is directed at the room and you watch the question lay over them like fog, each of them thinking for a second, blank expressions all the way around.

Taehyun was the first to respond, shrugging his shoulders before nodding briefly, “I wouldn't let the opportunity slip by if it was offered,” It was a unanimous yes from all of them, the hummed agreement not too surprising.

“Done!” yeonjun smashes one last key before stretching big, “finally fucking submitted, and right before we have to leave, im surprised the staff hasnt gotten around to our room yet to kick us out,”

Taehyun pulls his hat from his face, sitting up with a yawn, “good, i needed my bed two hours ago,”

It always felt so good to sleep in on a saturday after a study session like this, you could already feel how cozy it would be to wrap up in your blanket. And even if the mattress was shit with or without the foam topper, it was better than laying out in the chairs like taehyun just was.

All of you cleaned up the space, making sure to tuck in the chairs, pick up the discarded cups of late night bad decision coffee. Squishing in the elevator together, bags bumping into one another before you filed out; passing all the empty desks and empty aisles of books to make it out the front door.

As soon as the outside air hits your cheeks you know it’s going to feel like a long walk back to the dorms. the boys tucking their ears into hoodies, zipping their jackets up, you and kai lived in the dorms on the opposite side of campus from the rest of them, their walk shorter by only a few minutes.

“Okay we’re still on for dinner tomorrow right?” Kai asks the group.

beomgyu’s jumping on the balls of his feet to try to generate some warmth. “literally just text us, I cannot think about tomorrow when i’m this cold and sleepy,”

“Yes, we’re still on, I've been craving anything other than dining hall food for the past week,” yeonjun adds, shivering as he pulls the straps of his bag closer to his chest. “We'll still meet up back here like usual,” he was walking backwards as he said it, already a few steps behind the others, “but see you guys tomorrow or should I say ‘i’ll be right back!’” he jokingly yells while the others wave goodbye.

“don’t play jjunie, you might be next! don’t trust anyone!” He gives you a silent salute in response as you and Kai head out for your walk.

Instinctively the two of you are shoulder to shoulder, bumping into one another every other step. Silence following each muffled step on the pavement. Sometimes the two of you didn't say anything until you split on the elevators. a quick ‘goodnight’ or ‘see you tomorrow’ thrown out as you step out on your floor, waving as the doors closed back up so he could go up one more level. Other nights it was the two of you giggling trying to keep it down as you walked under the moonlight, too late to be loud.

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the wind hits the treeline. spots of orange light from the spaced out street lights are rare, casting the two of you in darkness every time the moon is behind the clouds; every several feet the hash light is back in your path.

“So you'd live? In a horror movie?” Kai asks, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders to his ears from the cold. The wind is hitting him right in the face, tossing his hair from his eyes where he liked to keep it. He asks it so softly, the question highlighted in the divot of his brow, nose pink, face washed in the glow from the moon.

“I'm not really a virgin so…,” it's not an embarrassing confession but when it's this late with his eyes trained solely on you it's like a spilled glass of red wine on white sheets. Impossible to look away from.

“You wouldn't live for knowing how people survive?”

“The smart ones usually die from bad luck, they know to head for the car waiting in the lot but forget the keys or if the keys are still in the ignition they never check the back seat. They know if you run into the woods to escape you can hide, but how unlucky for a rusty forgotten bare trap to be waiting for your next step. or if you miss that one here's a log to trip over, only to tumble down a hill and break your neck. Call the police? You're in the one movie a phone works only for you to forget never trust anyone because the police work for the killer,”

“So none of us make it?” It's such an open question the way he asks it, the hopeful twinge hitting the ending, twisting it into something it shouldn't be. Written right over his features the soft words unsaid, can't we? There has to be a way.

“This isn't a movie kai, we’re fine,”

“I know, it's only a question,” he's so easily flustered when alone, second guessing everything he says, as if one slip up will make you hate him. Now he's blushing, both of you falling back into comfortable silence. You can tell he's thinking by the way he's biting at his cheek, eyes watching his feet, making sure not to miss one step. You assume it's the end of what he has to say, his silence following you all the way back to your floor. The elevator doors opened finally giving him the courage to speak up. “Do you…”

“Hum?” you lift your arm to hold the doors open, turned to see him struggling to get the words out.

“Do you want to come with me to my parents cabin,” he says it all in a rush, avoiding looking you in the eyes just in case you reject him. “I mean you don't have to, the guys won't be there and if it makes you uncomfortable-” he cuts himself off, hand at the back of his neck, trying to rub away his embarrassment, “forget it- forget i said anything,”

“It's okay, I'd love to go. where is it?”

“Um it's like two hours from campus, my parents need me to check on it just cause and i thought, why not make a weekend of it? I mean, you can finally sleep on a real mattress, not whatever was issued here,”

A weekend away did sound good, perfect after the semester you were having. And Kai is as sweet as they come, spending time with him wouldn't be bad at all. “Sure, when are you thinking?”

“Next week?”

It was all so very innocent, a sweet boy asking a girl to join him on a weekend getaway. He even packed you snacks for the drive, let you pick all the music, and made sure to carry your bag in when you arrived.

You weren't stupid enough not to realize why you were here and the other boys didn't get an invite. The whole week you thought it over, pushing around the idea of being with him. And you could tell he was tossing it around all throughout the drive, periodically blushing without saying a thing to you, hands tightening on the steering wheel; knuckles turning white from the pressure.

Halfway through the drive you realized exactly what he meant by cabin. Not the kind sitting near the edge of a trail, but one hidden deep into the woods for perfect seclusion. Kai had a late class to make up for and the two of you didn't get started on the drive until the sun was already setting behind the trees. Every shadow thrown across the road drew longer and longer as the car kept on.

The gravel driveway leading up to the cabin was a stretch, but when you finally broke past the winding path the gleaming two story was not very cabin like. The windows reflecting the cars headlights back at you expanded most of the first level. Wraparound porch dotted with chairs, and a swinging bench. As soon as kai killed the engine the silence stumbled in, darkness spilling over the scene as you climbed out of your seat.

“This place is huge,” you whisper, as if anything louder would disrupt the peace of the outdoors. You held your phone's flash up in front of you, huening fumbling to put the key into the lock on the first try. Each attempt from his shaking hand failed.

“Here,” you took the key into your own hand, twisting the knob and pushing the door open.

“Sorry,” his voice wavering as he flips on the light switch, “i'm just- you know-,” he cuts himself off not wanting any more embarrassment to follow him.

As soon as the lights come on you can't see anything outside, the windows a reflection of the room. A tv hanging over a huge stone fireplace, welcoming couches spaced out in a semi circle around a wooden coffee table, a bar topped with dusty glasses pushed in the corner. Kai kicks off his shoes by the door, walking further in you notice the dark hallway leading deeper into the first floor, a staircase waiting right by the entrance. But kai ignores it all while walking towards the kitchen.

“I mostly have to check the doors and windows to make sure no one broke in,” he's trying to fill the silence, rambling to kill his nerves,”one year we had someone steal the tv, we don't really leave much now just incase, so that's why it looks so empty,”

“People actually drive all the way out here and break in? The last time i saw a turn off the road before this one was an hour ago,”

“You never know, it's best to just check and fill out a report sooner rather than later,” in the kitchen the backdoor is made of two foggy planes of glass, only the outline of kai seen in the weavering shape. He twists the knob and to your surprise it gives way and opens, “damn one of my sisters must have forgotten to lock it last they were here,” You lean your hip against the kitchen island, taking his explanation as is.

“They come out here to check too?”

“Rarely they mostly come with their friends but stopped when they realized there is zero phone service this far out,”

“There isn't?” you hadn't even checked to see if your phone was working, “what if someone had broken in? You have no phone to make a call from,”

He chuckles pointing past your shoulder, right on the end of the counter a sleek black cordless landline rests in its holder, the blinking red light showing one waiting voicemail. “Sometimes it can be spotty but for the most part its a solid line of communication,”

Hand still on the knob of the backdoor he locks the door before walking over to the pantry, finding only a crate of dusty wine and a stack of old jiffy pop popcorn.

“Wait, I didn't think they made these anymore,” you reach out for the thin metal handle attached to the panshapped popcorn container. Shaking it you hear the rattle of the kernels, “when i was younger i thought it was just something people had in movies,”

“My sisters and i love the stuff, it's also easy to pop outside over the fire,”

“So all you leave is popcorn and wine when you're not staying here?” you tap the crate of wine with your foot, his grin boyish and shy.

“It's a good thing for us now i guess,”

It's what leads you to sharing the bottle, passing it by the neck as he gives you a tour of the house. His lips right at the spout, nerves loosening up with each sip he takes, creaking steps leading up the second floor. “And here is my room,”

It’s right at the end of the hall, bed neatly made with a single stuffed penguin sitting against the pillows. “You left him here all alone?” You ask, picking up the plushie, Kai's standing in front of the closet, the slatted doors making up most of the wall behind him facing the bed.

He shrugs placing the half full wine bottle down on his dresser, “someone needed to protect my prize possession,” he falls right onto the mattress, head thrown back, hair spilling against the pillows, “i always sleep so good in this bed,” cheeks flushed from the wine, half lidded eyes watching you from under his lashes. It's an invitation you don't pass up.

You climb in after him, feeling relaxed from drinking even if it was only a little bit, you can tell it's helped him too, his lazy smile so blissful. “I'm sure this bed is good for other things too,” you don't even care about being bold, not alone with him under you as you dip your head, nose brushing his.

The first kiss is so soft, a brush of lips together lasting no longer than a second. Kai whines in the back of his throat, an ache for more hidden in the desperate sound. It's addicting to have someone seem so needy for your attention, his legs instinctively tangling with yours, hand at the back of your neck pulling you back down for another kiss.

The two of you fumbling to feel at each other, your hand sliding up under his shirt to touch his warm skin, his stomach flexing at the brush of your cold fingertips. His hand at your waist pulling you closer to him, needing you as close as he can get you. The kiss is sloppy in seconds, his tongue sliding against yours, noses bumping as you breath in each other. You can feel that he's semi-hard, pressed against your thigh between his legs.

He's a mess, whimpering when you pull away to take off your sweater, leaving you braless in a tank top. greedy hands back on you, pulling you back down on top of him, he’s grinding onto you desperately, fully hard from only kissing.

every little noise he makes is caught in your mouth, his fingers fumbling for the button on your jeans. you have to pull away after his failed attempt, giggling as you brush his hair back, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening we have all night,” you remind him, “I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,” he's looking up at you with total devotion, with an expression that lets you know he'd let you do anything if you asked.

“Please?” and it doesn't even matter what he's begging for, you would let him do just about anything in return for looking at you like that.

You're quick to rid yourself of your pants, falling back to the bed and letting him roll on top of you. Hands in his hair as he presses into you, one hand holding himself up while the other snakes down between you two. The soft gasp you let out eggs him on, drawing soft circles over your clothed clit like he knows exactly what to do. You twist your fingers into his hair, his lips tracing down your neck, hips back to grinding into your thigh. At first you don't notice the smell of popcorn. It's faint upstairs, wafting in through the vents, buttery and warm as kai slips his fingers into you. Your hips rolling on his hand, meeting every thrust, heel of his palm pressed to your clit.

It isn't until the popcorn starts to burn that you say something, the tang in the air subtle as kai sucks hickeys on your sensitive skin. “Is something on fire?”

Kai pulls away from the crook of your neck, “what the fuck?” breathing deeply to catch the scent. It's clear in the air now, hanging around like a question. “Stay here,”

it's so unceremonious when he pulls his hand from your panties, fingers dropping onto his tongue to clear them, “i'll be right back, okay?”

“O-okay,” you're confused more than anything, knees pulling in feeling overly exposed all of a sudden. It's silent in the house, the soundtrack of your kissing dimmed to nothing, before it's replaced with the creaking of his dissipating steps down the stairs.

You feel a little foolish sitting in his bed, the crumpled sheets and discarded plushie a reminder that this is not normal for a hook up at all. Letting out a long breath you push out of the bed, all relaxation felt before now gone as you reach for the wine bottle on the dresser. You take a heavy swig from the bottle, needing your courage back. It felt silly to worry over burnt popcorn.

Your stomach turns, sickening realization settling in. the two of you had only picked up the wine, neither of you even put the jiffy pop close to the stove's burners. You're quick to look for your phone, checking in the pile of your clothes on the floor, and finding nothing. Your bag was by the door downstairs, right next to the shoes, if your phone wasnt up here it was bound to be in your bag.

You didn't say anything as you made it to the top of the stairs, not until the phone rang. Not the familiar song that came through your speakers but the deft echo of a warning siren. The kind of ringtone that was played in a movie when someone was receiving bad news, and it didn't stop, traveling up the stairs, playing once, twice, until nothing but silence.

“Huening?” your voice wasn't as strong as you wished, faulting at the end as you took your first step down the stairs.

No response.

The last step creaks under your weight, the sound triggering the phone, that chilling ringtone back in the air. All the lights are on, nothing outside the windows visible as you watch your reflection walk past. You look right at the front door as you walk past, all of your things still in place, even Kai's shoes are still right where he left them.

In the kitchen you find the ringing phone, the little screen bright green as it shows the incoming call. The skins faucet turned on, the pelting water beating down on the thin aluminum foil of the jiffy pop, hastily tossed into the basin. Thin rivulets of smoke still curling from the singed popcorn. The stove's gas burner still lit with a blue flame.

The ringing continues as you turn everything off, feeling suddenly too cold and alone standing under the golden lights. It doesn't help that you're only dressed in your panties and tanktop, bare feet padding across the tile to pick you the phone.

Unknown caller. Read the directory, not even the number shown underneath. You hit answer before you could think better of it.

“Hello?” your pulse was in your ears, washing down your neck, but you're stunned to recognize the voice over the phone.

“What's your favorite scary movie?”

You can't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up before you respond, “kai, are you using the ghostface voice on me right now? You already had your hand down my pants no need for the theatrics,”

You can't even pick up a trace of his real voice over the filter, the soft chuckle on the other line trickling down your spine. “You didn't answer my question, you have to have a favorite, what comes to mind?”

“So we’re quoting the movie now?” you ask, looking around the kitchen, leaning back against the countertop. “Should i go all in and start asking to make it to the sequel?”

He chuckles, so soft and sensual, unlike his usual boisterous laugh. “Maybe…but a little birdie told me that you're not a virgin and you know what happens to those who sleep around right?”

“Enlighten me,” you cross your arms smiling at your reflection in the window. It's a bit silly to be here roleplaying in the first place but it's not like you're against it. What gets you is that it's coming from kai of all people. So soft and sweet, giggling and shyly walking you home. But you truly never know what a persons into until you're faced first with it.

“They don't last very long,” so smug as he says it.

“They don't?”

“Nope, and you have a list of things that you've already done wrong. I don't know if you truly deserve to make it to the sequel,”

“Oh? What did I do wrong?” you smile, checking out your nails, thumb running along the bed of your cuticles as you listen.

“Humm, let me see. First you're all alone in that big old house, did anyone ever tell you never to go into the dark and scary woods all alone?”

“I'm not alone, i have you,”

He ignores the last half of your statement, “Aren't you? hum, funny how i don't see the boytoy around anymore,”

“I can't believe you planned all of this, who knew you would be so freaky? I can't say that it doesn't turn me on though,”

“Oh? How cute that you still think I'm your little boyfriend. I mean didn't you see the signs? The door was unlocked in the back, popcorn on the stove when you didn't put it there, and now a missing boy toy. It's a shame you seem to have forgotten everything you've learned in class, or maybe it was the wine,”

“A few sips won't make me stupid, seriously huening come out, i want to get back into your bed,” you push off the counter, walking back toward the living room until you're stopped dead in your tracks. The sound isn't coming from the phone but just up ahead around the corner.

Your laugh echoes in the empty house, followed by your own words, “it’s okay to take it a little bit slow huening, we have all night, I don’t want you cumming in your jeans when it could be in or on me,”

You follow each line into the living room, the tv on and showing a video of only minutes ago.

“Please?” kais weavering voice seems so loud here instead of between you two.

You can see yourself push down your pants, watch the way the two of you fall right back into each other. Only now you're seeing it from the perspective of the closet, it's the only place you could think of that he would have placed the camera. The slats of the wood even in frame. It's like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on top of you. Standing in front of the tv as if you're Carrie from the prom and someones set up a cruel joke.

“Cute huh?” the voice over the phone asks, that little laugh following right after, “i sure think it is. Look at the way your body reacts to his fingers, you’ll be that pretty for me won't you?”

You feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, the house too big for this kind of game. Even just standing there now alone it felt like you were a fish in a bowl, stuck to be watched from all sides. And not from the video but from the figure standing right on the outside of the window.

He was dressed in all black, nothing like what kai had been wearing before. And covering his face the dripping white mask of ghostface. You only catch a glimpse because the lights are on but it's enough to remind you that maybe this isn't a joke. “Are you outside?”

“I don't know? Am i?” but as he says it you see down the hallway a dark figure step out of a doorway.

Everything in you freezes, your heart rate plummeting, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin. You hadn't even noticed your fingers had been trembling before, not until your deathgrip on the phone starts to hurt. “Don't hang up on me,” he warns over the line, but the person down the hall doesnt even have a phone in sight, his slow prowl reminding you to move.

You take off back towards the kitchen, the back door playing in your head as the best possible exit but as soon as you're in front of it, tugging on a door knob needs to be unlocked you see the haze reflection of two more figures waiting right against the glass. You can hear the laugh of the person on the phone even if it's not to your ear as you rush to pull open any drawer that might have something in it to protect you. But every pull leads you to find nothing at all, “what the fuck!”

The door shakes as they try to pull it open, the glass rattling as you lift the phone back to your ear, “okay huening, that's enough, i get it, ha ha, funny, but seriously-”

“Were you looking for a knife?” he cuts you off, voice so calm when you're falling apart.

“What?” you're exasperated, huffing the question like it's a slap in the face.

“I know where one is, if you want it,”

It's then that the masked man from the hall comes into the kitchen, the steel knife in his hands glinting in the light. “You have to be fucking kidding me right now,” youre desprate to find an explanation for this. The island is between the two of you, his head tilting to the side, the open mouth of the mask mocking you as he takes slow steps around the marble. You're matching his every move, both of you circling the kitchen like two fighters waiting for the ding of a bell.

The door rattles again, the sound making you yelp, hand pressed to your racing heart. It's the distraction you need to bolt right through the kitchens arch way and run to the front door.

You're moving so fast you have little time to slow down, partially slamming into the door, fingers fast to twist the locks.

As soon as it's opened you're standing face to face with another ghostface mask, his black clad outfit sticking to his figure as he towers over you, phone hovering right over the mask's gaping mouth. “Hum not out the front door i guess,”

You try to slam the door shut but his boot clad foot moves fast catching it right before it could close completely. Spinning you run towards the stairs, the sound of their following footsteps close behind. The door to the bedroom is still wide open as you barrel through turning around and throwing the door closed and twisting the lock.

But it's only a moment of relief when you feel a hand clasp around your mouth. Your scream is muffled from their fingers, your eyes closing as if that would fix the situation, the phone in your hand falling to the floor, “Shhh it's okay,” Kai whispers, a strong arm wrapping around your middle pulling you closer to him.

The weight is lifted off your shoulders hearing his voice, hands wrapping around the one covering your mouth to tug it away. “What is going on?” you ask, pulling yourself away from him. your back is to the door and he steps closer backing you right up against it.

“Didn't you say you found it kinda hot, the whole fear thing?” he asks, leaning close enough to kiss, “i wanted to make it extra special for you, and you don't mind if we all share you, right?” his knuckle lifts your chin up so you’re eye to eye, nose to nose, his normal shy smile turned devilish. “All you have to do is say no,”

It was crazy to say yes. your heart still pounding, breathing only just starting to regulate, and yet you want him, you want them. “I-I don’t- I don’t want to say no,”

“Then don’t,” he pushed his whole body against yours, engulfing you in his warmth, taking you for another kiss like you hadn’t left the room at all. You don't even notice him unlocking the door, not until the knob is shaking against your back.

Kai pulls you towards the bed, the closet doors behind him open showing the empty space with a lone camera on a tripod. The red light looking back at you like a warning, you looked right down the barrel of the lens wondering if you would ever see this again, and praying that you did. Kai fit his fingers over you eyes, “don't look at it, don’t think about its there,”

You hear a chuckle, so similar to the one over the phone, only without the filter. Now so easily recognizable as yeonjun, you can picture the way his mouth looks as he does it, his canines on display as he smirks. You don't even have to see him to know, you've known all of them so long you're sure one touch and you could guess who was who. And with both of kais hands on your eyes the brush of someone's fingers on your cheek lets you know exactly who it is. Soobins hands are the softest of the bunch and your face tilts in his direction. “Soobin?”

he lets out a huff of a laugh, “you caught me. And you know it's kind of rude not to open the back door when we come knocking,”

“You scared me,” it's a soft confession that they all chuckle at.

“Did we?” beomgyu teases, so much closer than you expected, the ghost of his touch going up your arm, goosebumps popping up along the trail.

Your senses are on overdrive, pulse loud enough to be heard if one listens close enough, every little thing heightened by your fading fear and covered eyes. You feel a hand slip down your stomach stopping right before your panty line, a single finger sliding under the waistline to pull it and let it snap back against your skin. You jolt from the contact, body flush with kai’s, his hard cock pressed to your back.

You hear rustling from the closet, and kai lets you go, letting you see yeonjun taking the camera in hand. He's adjusting the viewfinder, the others standing in a circle around you, it should be intimidating, the masks off now, looking at you like you're something to eat. It's taehyun that steps forward first, thumb reaching out to drag across your bottom lip. You open your mouth letting him press the digit flat against your tongue.

“You’ll be good for us, won't you?” he asks, and you close your mouth sucking his finger as you nod. He smirks, “i want first,”

It's all he says before he's pushing you down on the bed. It's so quick the air is almost knocked right out of you, your hands scrambling to find purchase on the beds duvet cover. It's almost a shame how wet you already are, the way your panties are cut away, the cold knife in taehyuns free hand only just brushing your skin. The fabric tossed around from person to person. “I did most of the work,” kai adds as you bury your face into the sheets, “she wouldn't be this prepped if i didn't start early,”

“And that's why you have to wait,” “You didn't even get her off,” they talk over each other.

“You guys didn't give me time!” kai tries but they ignore him when you give a sharp whine.

Taehyun shoves his fingers right into you, your body so willing to take him in. but you hear his belt being undone with one hand, and it's a shame you cant see the way his cock looks from this angle, because as he pressed the tip right at your entrance, slick fingers helping to lude up his veiny shaft, you can tell he's going to be the perfect stretch.

Your moan as he sinks into your warm heat is echoed by the rest of them, a choir of the perfect voices turned husky and wanting. “Holy shit,” teahyun breathes his hand pressed right to your lower back, your feet dangling right off the edge of the bed, toes only just barely touching the ground.

“Doesn't she feel amazing?” kai asks, “fuck i bet she fits like a fucking dream,” gyu adds as he walks over to the other side of the bed climbing in to lay against the headboard. His zipper was already undone, pants low on his hips as he watched you get pounded into.

Because tae was not holding back anymore, it felt like he had been waiting all night for this exact moment, to chase his high without question. And your pussy was so welcoming, sucking him in, practically begging for his cum.

Yeonjun walked around the bed, zeroing the camera in on you as your legs bend, heel of your feet pushing on taes thighs. Taehyun wraps his hands in your hair, tugging your head back, extending your throat to the camera, arching your back just right, “i want to be able to watch back how you looked while i fucked you okay?”

“Oh, look at that, huening marked up our toy already,” soobin reaches out a finger, tracing over the hickey kai had left on your skin, your eyes were wide and begging as you watched him, mouth caught open in a moan as taes thrusts turned sloppy. “Fuck, look at that mouth,”

yeonjun bent down to catch the image. “I think someone needs to fill it,”

Soobin didn't need to be told twice. He was tugging his cock out of his jeans, leaking precum already dotting the tip as he gave it long languid strokes. Your mouth was already watering at the sight, knowing taking him down your throat would be a task but one you wouldn't back away from.

But taehyun was already cumming, orgasm cresting as he slammed his hips into your ass, cock twitching as he let out a deep rumbling moan. He let go of your hair, head falling forward into the duvet as he stilled inside you pressing as close as he could get, the tip of his cock hitting you just right as he spilled inside you.

“I want next!” gyu calls out, raising his hand like he knows the answer to a question.

“No-” soobin starts but beomgyu is already moving from his stop on the bed as taehyun pulls out, the gush of warmth leaving your cunt dripping down your thighs. Yeonjun is quick to catch the sight on film.

“Look at that,” it sounds so endearing coming from him, a true sight to behold as you whine from the feeling of being empty. You feel like a ragdoll as soobin pulls on you, tugging you further up the bed so that you're on your hands and knees in front of him.

“Open,” his tip is already prodding at your lips. You feel the bed dip behind you, gyu finding his place as he drags his fingers through the leaking cum traveling down your legs, he does his best to shove it right back into you, fingers dragging over your clit, circling it as soobin shoves his cock right into your mouth.

You give a muffled yelp, tongue flattening to make it easier for him to slide in and out of. His head is rolling back, hair spilling around his ears as he moans. He twists his fingers in your hair, both hands wrapping around your head to bob you up and down on his dick like his own personal toy. You're nails dig into the sheets, the sloppy sounds of him fucking your throat taking up the most sound.

Beomgyu keeps one hand on your clit and the other guides his cock into you, he's quick to snap his hips forward sending you forward on soobin, until you're choking for air. Moans sending vibrations up along soobins shaft. His eyes tighten, needing to pull away before he cums too quickly, face flushed red as rivulets of your saliva still connect you to him.

The constant pressure put on your clit from beomgyus fingers has your stomach tightening in knots. Now that you're not taking soobin in beomgyu picks up his pace, the skin on skin slapping sounds melding with your whines. “I want you to cum for me, i want to be the first one to make you cum, please,” he sounds so desperate, not matching the way he drills into you, tip hitting your cervix in a mix of painful pleasure. He can feel your fluttering walls, every particularly hard thrust making your cunt react just right. And when you cum hes a blubbering mess, “fuck fuck fuck-” not expecting to cum so fast, but youre drawing it out of him, with each little sound you make. He's almost embarrassed by how long he cums for, head falling forward to rest on your shoulder blade, his dick pulsing inside you, curses turning to nonsense, the drawn out, “fuuu- ahh, ah,”

“Look at how pretty she looks when she cums,” yeonjun smiles, bringing the camera close to catch the way you are trying to blink the spots from your vision, “soobin next? Or maybe kai? Both of them seem to have waited so long for you,”

Kai leans back against the dresser, arms crossed as he watches you, expressionless as he follows the shape of your body. Only one of your tank tops straps are on, your breasts already spilling out from the thin fabric, soobins eyes caught on your peaked nipples as he strokes himself. But you look back over to huening, the way he's standing there like he's unaffected at all. But you know it's not true, not when he's straining in his pants, the bulge itself drives you insane. “Hyuka?”

The shyness in your voice is what does it for him, beomgyu only just pulling out of you with a hiss. More cum dribbling out as he pushes his hair back looking at his handiwork. Yeonjun is right next to him too, getting the perfect shot.

Taehyun languidly lounges back against the headboard, cock still hard as it rests against his stomach, hand wrapped around the base as he watches you. It distracts you enough not to see kai moving replacing gyus spot.

Kai wraps his hand in your hair but unlike taehyun he forcefully pushes your head down into the mattress. The whole mit of his hand cups your skull, your whimper making him chuckle. His free hands traced up your side, slipping under your tank top as he feels along your skin. “You know I was thinking about this the whole walk back after our study night?” his hand dips down fingers sliding along your wetness, “i kept thinking about how perfect it would be to absolutely ruin you,”

You're already sensitive from finishing already and kai can tell as your thighs tremble but it wont stop him from pinching your clit. Your hips push back against him, yelping as he goes on to rub circles over the bundle of nerves. “Seeing it happen- watching you get used as a little cum dump is so much better than I ever imagined,” he works your clit, building up his speed until your back is arching, nails biting into your palm as you feel your orgasm building too quickly. You're trying to rock back into his hand but the way he has you bent helps very little. Your cries heighten until he pulls it all away.

“No huening please!”

“Aww how cute, she's begging,” beomgyu laughs and you're whimpering in response.

“Kai…please!”

“You're already doing so well because i want you begging to be filled with my cum, crying from how badly you want it,” his hand goes back to your cunt, pressing into your clit rubbing at a pace that has you seeing stars, your hands scratch out for looking for anything to hold onto. Yeonjun takes your hand in his keeping the camera facing your reaction as your eyes roll back. Its in the middle of your climax that kai pushes his cock into you, finding a punishing rhythm as he fucks you into the matterss.

“Beg for it,” he growls, hand in your hair twisting in the strands. You can feel him all the way to your throat, stretched out so good, he presses right into your gspot like he was made for you.

“P-please- hyuka i need it- i-” you cant even get the words out anymore, the squeaking of the bed building as he increases his speed. You can hear the wet sounds of the other boys jerking off, “i want your c-cum, i need it,”

“Louder,” yeonjun mutters in front of you, your death grip on his hand not loosening anytime soon.

“I want it! I need your cum, please!” But Huenings is so lost chasing his own high that he drops his hand from your clit to grab your hip, his bruising hold and brutal thrusts making you cry out.

Beomgyu reaches down under you, fingers finding just the right rhythm to send you over the edge at the same time kai cums. His faltering thrusts and throaty moans makes you feel weak. Your cunt is strangling his cock, his release pushed as deep as he could get it into you. When he pulls out you collapse onto the bed, completely used up.

It feels never ending body too tired already when you feel soobin climb into the bed. He lays right behind your exhausted form, both of you on your sides facing yeonjun, “look who's next, do you think you could get another one out of her? I hear you're only a freak in theory and not practice,”

But soobin doesn't take the bait, one hand sliding under you and wrapping around your chest, hand coming up to cup your breast, fingers twisting your hard nipple, and the other lifting your leg to get better access to your leaking cunt. Your thighs are so sticky soobins fingers slip on his hold, having to tighten his grip to make sure he can keep you open. He's been ready since the start, his cock aching as it prods your now puffy swollen cunt, so used you're sure you would be sore for days.

When he sinks in your whimpers are so soft they are hardly heard. Yeonjun is kneeling on the floor, arm holding the camera resting on the bed. He captures the way soobins dick slides in with ease, no resistance now with how much slick is coming out of you. Every drag of soobins cock comes away stained in white. A ring of the combined cum circling the base, balls sticking to your skin with every thrust.

His breathy moans are lost against your neck, pitiful little sounds before he's muttering, “im sorry, oh god- im-”

“Don't you dare cum yet,” yeonjun warns soobin, who pauses his thrusts trying to listen but can't find it in him to restrain. Yeonjuns fingers pinch at your clit, your whole body reacting to the feeling, jolting you back to life as you cum. soobin unable to handle the pressure and is a complete mess, whimpering as he pulls you closer, hugging you as if he could merge bodies.

It took him a while to finally pull out, a much needed break for only a few breaths before yeonjun passes the camera to taehyun to keep the filming going. You can feel the weakness all the way down to your bones, sure if you stand you could collapse to the floor, legs too weak to hold you up. But yeonjun is looking at you like you're being served on a silver platter, all done up with all the best fixings.

“Best for last huh?” he grins climbing over you brushing under your eye to catch a single tear that's fallen from your overstimulation. “Its so fun to see you so dumb on cock, so unlike how we usually see you,”

You hum in response as he pushes your legs open, hands at the back of your knees pushing them to your chest. When he puts them over his shoulders you whimper, reaching out to wrap your arms around his neck as he sinks into your wet heat. Bent in half you feel your toes curling, sure that if you came one more time you would be better off sleeping for the next year. “I think this is good practice, don't you?” he asks like you'll respond to him with anything other than a string of muffled whimpers. Your body is coated in a thin layer of sweat, sticking to his skin as he takes a slow pace. It's like he's apologizing, lips peppering across your cheek, down your neck. “We’ll keep you so happy, stuffed full like you deserve. Would you like that?”

You're nodding, eyes closing as he uses you. You don't even notice the way your body is reacting, that slow rise of your next orgasm building up, “i-” you can’t think about cumming again already feeling so dumbed out.

“Hum? Are you going to cum, pretty?” he picks up his pace, sinking his hips and hitting you right against your g spot. Your head rolls back as it washes over you, body tightening until you feel like you’ve combusted into little particles. “Oh look at that, so perfect for me, your pussy feels so good when it's squeezing me like this,” it's all he says before he’s trembling, a guttural moan taking over as he cums, you swear you can feel its warmth spreading throughout you. And when he pulls out he takes the camera back from taehyun focusing it in on the sight of all the combined release staining your folds.

“Look at how she pushes it out,” beomgyu says, mesmerized by the way you look leaking so much cum. But it's Kai who leans down, fingers collecting anything he can before shoving all the cream right back into you. “Its almost like she wants us to fuck it right back in,”

🏷taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572 @tomorrowxforever r @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553 @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii i @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5 @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh @wand3rlustm3

thank you so much to @beomiracles @prince-jjae and @thetxtdevil for beta/proofreading the first part of this fic!

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eupheme · 6 months ago

Note

idk if you’re taking any requests and if you aren’t feel free to ignore this lol

but if you are would you write reader smothering Logan in kisses after she put on red lipstick leaving him covered in red kiss marks (maybe he has somewhere to be so he wipes them off but doesn’t realize he missed one till he gets called out on it)

ohh anon I love this!! 👀💖 I can’t imagine him being like “alright, already” but secretly like 🥰 on the inside (and ahh the thought of ‘reluctantly’ letting you leave a little kiss mark on him when you’re all going out because he heals too fast to leave a hickey!)

— your kiss is on my list

logan howlett x f!reader | 400 words

He’s good at pretending.

You catch him coming back from work just as you’re heading out. Tucked away in the stairway as you giggle, finding a hidden corner as you press your mouth against his.

No more than a stolen moment. Hands fisted in your jacket as you pepper kisses against his chin, the scruff of his facial hair. The side of his neck, just below the ear.

“Careful, sweetheart,” He coaxes, “You look gorgeous, don’t wanna mess up that lipstick of yours.”

Though he wants nothing more than to pull you closer. To whisk you away back upstairs - but he knows you’ve been talking about your night out with the girls all week.

And maybe he’s not ready to share you yet.

When you pull back you’re smiling, “Mm, I wouldn’t mind that. You coming over tonight?”

His hand cups your jaw, thumb rubbing under your lip to fix the slight smear, “Was already planning on it.”

It’s another minute before you’re through kissing him goodbye. His fingers lingering on his lips, as you disappear down the stairs.

If it was later, he wouldn’t mind getting a little marked up. Something that would stay against his skin, lingering until morning. Scattered across his chest, his stomach. A pretty red ring around his-

A sharp breath, as he clears his head. If he doesn’t get it together he’ll be tempted to go after you, and end your night a little early.

His hand scrubs across his mouth, wiping away the trace of you. The heel of his palm scraping across chin and jaw as he opens the apartment door.

Wade’s eyes flick his way as he enters, before he’s grinning in a way that makes his scowl deepen. Legs swinging as he jumps off the couch - coming over to brace himself on the counter, while Logan ducks down to peer in the fridge.

“Oh my god, you little liar. I knew you were hiding something from me, you’ve been way too chipper lately.” His roommate chirps, “When you bringing her over?”

“Who?” Logan barks defensively, tugging a beer free.

“Oh, I dunno,” Wade drawls - reaching out to poke a spot on his neck, “Whoever gave you that little masterpiece right there.”

Logan smacks his hand away with a growl. Fingers rubbing at his skin, seeing how they come back red. He sighs.

Fuck.

thank you again, anon! 💖 hope you liked this!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #requests #anons #eupheme answers #xmen x reader

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reilemon · 1 month ago

Text

🌹Surrender❄️

♡︎ synopsis: Sylus and Zayne show you that you can't get away with lying.

♡︎ pairing: Sylus x fem!reader x Zayne

♡︎ tags: barely any plot, mfm dynamic, oral (both male and female receiving), orgasm denial, dvp

♡︎ word count: 5.5k

♡︎ a/n: this fic is part of the Secret Santa Fic Exchange event made by @nanamiscocksleeve and I wrote for @laddelulu30 . It was challenging ngl, but I had fun and I hope you'll like it!

♡︎ Thank you to my dearest friend and my beta reader♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping. divider by @anitalenia

The car hums softly, the tension inside it palpable. Zayne’s hands grip the wheel, his hazel green eyes fixed on the road ahead, occasionally glancing into the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Sylus sits with his arms crossed over his broad chest. You sit beside him, looking out the window, twisting the damp hem of your shirt as you can feel Sylus’ glare on you.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Zayne’s calm voice breaks the silence.

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to your lap. “It wasn’t planned,” you mumble. “My friend called last minute... I didn’t think it’d be a big deal.”

Sylus shifts beside you, leaning closer. “You didn’t think lying about being at a coffee shop might be a big deal? Or leaving your location on so I’d find out anyway?”

You stiffen, guilt tightening your throat. “I thought both of you were busy and it was just easier that way.”

Sylus scoffs. “Easier? For who? You, sneaking out? Or us, finding out you’re not in your apartment like we thought?”

“Sylus,” Zayne interjects, his eyes flick to the mirror, catching yours. “This isn’t about the coffee shop, or even going out. It’s about trust. We can’t keep you safe if we don’t know where you are.”

The word trust stings more than Sylus’ sharper tone. Your fingers clench tighter around your sleeve, twisting the fabric until it wrinkles under your grip. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything,” you say with a lump in your throat. “My friend needed me tonight. She just got out of a bad relationship, and wanted to go out.”

Sylus presses further. “And when it got dangerous? What then? You knew enough to text me—why not just tell me the truth from the start?”

Zayne’s grip on the wheel tightens. “Do you know what went through my head when Sylus told me you weren’t home?” he asks, his voice quieter now. “When I saw where you were? You’re lucky we got there in time.”

Your throat tightens, and you glance out the window as you mumble, “I didn’t think it’d turn into such a mess.”

Zayne exhales slowly, and you can see Sylus in the corner of your eye shaking his head. You know you’re in the wrong and that you made a few stupid decisions tonight, but your pride is not letting you admit it.

The car slows to a stop at a drive-thru, and you hear Sylus grumbling under his breath.

“This place again?”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips when you catch Zayne roll his eyes before answering. “Yes, it’s the only nearby place that works at this hour.”

Sylus sighs dramatically but complies, rattling off an order as though it’s beneath him.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The apartment greets you with its familiar scent and warmth. What also greets you is pieces of clothing and makeup scattered around the living room. You’re sure your boyfriends noticed the mess, but you’re surprised no one made a single comment as they made their way to the kitchen. You take off your shoes and join them.

Sylus places the bag of food onto the table, his gaze flicking toward you. “Are those the new jeans?” he asks.

Caught off guard, you glance down at yourself, smoothing your hands over the denim. “Uh, yeah.”

“Told you they’d look good,” he says, leaning back against the table, his arms crossing over his chest. The way he says it makes your cheeks warm.

Before you can respond, Zayne’s voice cuts in, giving you the same compliment. He steps closer, his eyes softening as they glance over you. Tonight, their attention makes you more flustered than usual, so you thank them, your cheeks burning, and you busy yourself with helping Zayne unpack the food.

The three of you engage in small talk as you eat the late-night meal, the earlier tension from the car ride dissipating with each bite. Despite his complaints, Sylus cleans his plate with the efficiency of someone who secretly enjoyed it.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Remnants of the day washed away after the shower, the three of you settle on the sofa to watch a movie. Zayne and you slipped into pajamas while Sylus put on a shirt and sweatpants he kept in your apartment. As you sink into the sofa, the warmth of their presence surrounds you. You cover yourself with a blanket, nestling into the space between them. Sylus leans in to press a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to send a small shiver through you. “Comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low and warm.

You nod, your cheeks warming as Zayne reaches for your hand. His touch is light as he lifts it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “It’s been a long night,” he says quietly, his gaze meeting yours. “You should try to relax.”

The tenderness of each gesture dissolves a little more of the tension lingering from the car ride. For a moment, it feels like the night’s events have been smoothed over.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The blanket draped across your legs is warm, wrapping you in comfort as the faint scent of soap and shampoo lingers from the showers. You stretch out slowly, eyes still on the tv as you move to rest your head on Sylus’ lap. His hand rests on your head, the light touch of his fingers soothing. Your legs find their place on Zayne’s lap, his strong hands moving to cradle your feet. When his fingers press gently into your arches, eliciting a soft sigh from your lips. The way his thumbs knead into your soles sends tiny ripples of relief through your body. Sylus’ fingers gently massage your temple, while Zayne’s hands work slowly over your calves. For a moment, you’re content to lie there, letting their attention wash over you.

But your hand starts to wander.

It traces along the fabric of his sweatpants as you brush over the firm muscle of his thigh before your palm settles over his crotch. Sylus chuckles, and you feel his body tense slightly under your touch. His hand stills as he glances down at you. “You sure you’re not tired?”

You nuzzle against his thigh, “I’m sure,” you say softly.

Sylus’ gaze flicks past you, meeting Zayne’s over your head, the exchange passing in an instant.

You shift onto your back, blissfully clueless, the warmth of the blanket replaced by the cool air of the room as Zayne slides it away, folding it neatly onto the backrest. His hands move to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, sending faint shivers along your body as he pulls off the piece of clothing. You draw a sharp breath as Zayne’s long fingers trace the sensitive spot between your legs, the barrier of your underwear doing little to dull the sensation. His thumb presses gently, testing your reaction.

Above you, Sylus watches your face as you’re still resting your head on his lap. His hand threads through yours, his grip steady as he lifts your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles.

Zayne’s eyes flicker down, his full attention locked on the slow movements of his fingers. The pads of his ring and middle finger press firmly against the soaked fabric of your panties, sliding back and forth at a slow pace. The pressure builds as he alternates his rhythm—pushing his fingers harder against you, dragging them in slow strokes, then pulling back just enough to make you whimper. The dampness of your arousal soaks through the thin barrier, your panties clinging to your folds.

“Fuck,” Zayne murmurs. “You’re so wet, my sweet girl. You like this that much? Being teased like the needy little brat you are?”

Heat floods your cheeks at his words, but before you can respond—his thumb circles your clit, pressing firmly enough to draw a gasp from your pretty lips. Your hips shift against his touch instinctively, desperate for more, but his movements remain infuriatingly measured.

Zayne shifts, his hands pressing against your thighs, keeping you open as his head hovers just between your legs. Your legs tremble in his hold when you feel it - the slow swipe of his tongue over the fabric. A quiet moan escapes your lips as he does it again, his tongue dragging across the sensitive spot, his saliva mixed with your slick making the fabric cling to you. Your free hand moves instinctively, fingers sliding into Zayne’s dark hair, urging him closer, urging him to give you more. His eyes flick up briefly, and then you hear Sylus’ sharp tut from above.

“Tsk, tsk. You’re not in charge here, sweetie.” Sylus’ voice is rich with mock disapproval. He reaches down, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he pulls your hand away from Zayne’s head with. He presses your hand above your head, holding both of your wrists in place with one hand, while Zayne’s grip on your hips tightens, making it impossible to move. His fingers press into your skin, holding you down as his tongue flicks out again, swirling slow, maddening circles over your clit. Your head tilts back against Sylus’ thigh, a frustrated sound escaping your lips as you try to shift against Zayne’s hold.

“Look at her,” Sylus muses as he watches you squirm. “So fucking needy. Isn’t that cute?”

Zayne chuckles against you, the vibrations making your toes curl. But, after a few more frustratingly dragged out swipes, he finally relents. His hold on your hips loosening just enough to slide your soaked panties to the side, the cool air kissing your exposed skin, spreading goosebumps all over your skin. His thumb brushes lightly along your folds, spreading the slickness, before his tongue is finally on you, dragging slow swipes from your entrance to your clit. Relief courses through you, your thighs trembling as the ache that’s been building finally begins to ease. His tongue moves with precision, parting your folds and swirling around your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Above you, Sylus’ ruby gaze flickers down, his fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. The fabric bunches in his hand as he lifts it higher, revealing the soft curves of your breasts, the cool air making your nipples pebble instantly. His free hand traces slow circles around one hardened peak, his thumb brushing lightly over it, teasing, before he pinches just enough to make your back arch off the sofa. Then, slowly, his hand trails up, over the side of your neck, before settling on your bottom lip. The gentle pressure makes your lips part instinctively, your tongue swirling around his finger. Sylus adds another finger, the digits sliding deeper as your lips tighten around them, coating them in saliva. Then he pulls them free and drags them down, swirling over the hardened peaks, the added slickness making you moan.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Sylus asks, his smirk widening as his fingers press harder, rolling your nipples between them.

Zayne’s lips seal around your clit with just enough suction to make you cry out. Each stroke and suck builds the pressure inside you to a breaking point, your toes curling as the pleasure coils tight in your core, threatening to snap. You’re so close—so close you can feel yourself teetering on the edge—

And then Zayne pulls back.

The loss of contact draws a frustrated, broken whimper from your lips, your hips jerking against nothing.

Zayne looks up at you, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t look so surprised,” his voice calm and infuriatingly composed. “Brats don’t get to finish so easily.” His hands stay firm on your hips, keeping you still as you try to move.

Your lips part in protest, but Sylus cuts you off with a smug tut. “Ah, ah,” he smirks. “You’ll have to earn it first.” His fingers slide down, gliding over your soaked folds before delivering a sharp tap to your swollen pussy, the sudden jolt making you flinch with a yelp.

“Look at this mess,” he mutters, his voice dripping with mockery as he taps again, watching you flinch. “Needy little thing.”

His fingers glide through, your body arching into his touch in desperate need of more. But then he pulls away, leaving you trembling in frustration. His glistening fingers rise to his lips, his eyes locking onto yours as his tongue flicks out, savoring the blend of your juices and Zayne’s lingering taste. He chuckles, “You know we don’t let bad behavior slide.”

Before you can protest, Zayne’s hand slides along your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His hazel eyes meet yours, “You know we’re not angry,” Zayne says softly, as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. “But we will take our time making sure you understand.”

His words send a fresh wave of heat coursing through you, your body trembling under the weight of their attention. Frustration wells up, but so does the thrill of knowing exactly what they’re doing. Of course, they wouldn’t let you off so easily—it’s Sylus and Zayne.

Sylus releases your wrists, and before you can process the absence of his touch, Zayne reaches for your hands, pulling you upward with ease until you’re sitting on the sofa. Sylus stands up, stepping beside you as his hands hook into the waistband of his sweatpants. He tugs them down just enough to free his cock - thick, flushed with a bead of precum at the tip. Your breath catches as he strokes himself lazily, his eyes glinting when he notices your gaze drop to his length.

“Come here,” Sylus commands as he plants one foot on the floor, the other on the sofa, your mouth watering at the sight. He strokes one last time before dragging the head of his cock toward your parted lips. The salty bead of precum hits your tongue, and you can’t stop the whimper that escapes as you take him in. Sylus growls, his hand resting on the back of your head, holding you steady.

Beside you, Zayne stands up, mirroring Sylus’ stance, as he slides his pajama pants down and frees himself. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls your hand to him, curling it around his cock. He’s hot and heavy in your palm, twitching as his hand envelopes yours, his grip firm as he helps you stroke him. “Slow,” he murmurs softly. “Feel how hard you’ve made me.”

Sylus’ hips begin to move, his thrusts shallow at first, as the thick head of his cock pushes deeper past your parted lips. You hollow your cheeks, your tongue flattening beneath him, and the sharp hiss that escapes his lips goes straight to your core.

“Deeper,” Sylus growls, “I know you can take it.”

He doesn’t wait for you to adjust—his grip keeps you firmly in place as his hips roll forward, forcing his cock further down your throat. Tears prick the corners of your eyes as you struggle to keep up, swallowing around the thick length stretching your throat. Spit drips from the corners of your mouth as he moves, hitting the back of your throat, making you choke with each thrust. Sylus’ movements falter for a moment, his thrusts growing erratic and then, abruptly, he pulls back. The sudden loss leaves you breathless and you look up to see his jaw clenched, his hand squeezing the flushed tip.

“Fuck,” he mutters in a shaky voice. “Almost made me finish down your throat.”

Before you can catch your breath, Zayne’s hand tilts your chin, guiding your mouth toward him, your lips parting instinctively as the head of his cock brushes against them. He presses forward, filling your mouth, his eyes locking onto yours as your tongue swirls around the tip, savoring the salty taste. A low groan escapes him, his hand resting on the back of your head as he sets a languid pace. Your jaw aches from the stretch, but the weight of him—hot and heavy against your tongue—makes you moan softly, the sound vibrating against him. Your hand finds Sylus, wrapping around his slick length as you stroke him in rhythm with Zayne’s thrusts. Sylus hisses through his teeth, his cock twitching in your grasp as he watches.

The ache between your legs becomes unbearable, your thighs pressing together in the desperate need for release. Unfortunately for you, Zayne’s sharp eyes catch the motion. Abruptly, he pulls back, his cock slipping free with a wet pop.

“No,” he says firmly, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. His grip on your chin forces your gaze upward. “Spread your legs.”

You almost whimper at the tone. “But—”

“Spread them,” Zayne repeats. The authority in his voice makes your thighs part, the frustration growing as Sylus chuckles above you.

Zayne’s hand shifts, guiding your mouth back to him. His cock slides past your lips again, and this time his thrusts are faster, each movement pushing deeper until the tip hits the back of your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes again, the sound of your gagging pulling a guttural growl from him.

“Just like that,” Zayne murmurs, his voice rough. “Take all of it.”

Beside him, Sylus’ breaths become rough and uneven as his hand tightens over yours, his hips snapping forward, drawing Zayne’s attention.

Zayne’s hand slides to the back of Sylus’ neck, pulling him forward until their faces are almost touching. His voice drops low, quiet enough that you can’t make out the words. Their whispers drip with intent, and the thought of them planning your undoing makes your pussy clench desperately, slick spilling over as your body begs to be used exactly the way they want.

Sylus’ eyes flick to Zayne’s, hazy with arousal, with a faint smirk on his lips. Zayne’s lips press to the sharp line of Sylus’ jaw, followed by teeth dragging over his skin before he bites down, rough enough to leave a mark. The sharp sting rips a guttural, feral sound from Sylus’ throat, his cock twitching in your hand, precum spilling along your fingers.

“Good,” Zayne mutters against Sylus’ jaw before he pulls back, releasing Sylus’ neck. Their eyes meet for a moment, before their full attention is back on you.

Zayne’s thrusts grow erratic, his cock hitting the back of your throat one last time before he pulls out, leaving you gasping. You barely have time to recover before Sylus’ hand grips your jaw, tilting your face toward him, but his other hand grabs at the hem of your pajama top, tugging it upward in one swift motion, leaving you bare before him.

“Open,” Sylus commands, and your mouth falls open instantly, tongue slipping out. The flushed tip of his cock presses against it, dragging across it as he smears the salty slick, before his release spills suddenly, the first hot spurt hitting your tongue. The rest paints your cheeks, dripping down your chest, and clings to your skin in messy streaks. Zayne watches, his hand gripping your wrist as you stroke him. His cock twitches violently in your grasp, and when your fingers tighten, slick with his precum, it pushes him over the edge. A sharp, choked groan escapes his lips as his hips snap forward, his release spilling over your face and breasts, mingling with Sylus’ mess.

You’re trembling, every inch of your body aching with unfulfilled need. Sylus tilts your face up with two fingers under your jaw, making you to meet his gaze.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “Fucking perfect.”

Zayne’s fingers brush the corners of your tear-streaked eyes. “She is,” he agrees with a smirk.

You bite your lip as your gaze flicks between them - they’re both still hard, their cocks twitching and glistening.

Zayne moves first – he sits back on the sofa and grabs a large pillow and positions it behind him. Reclining slightly, he leans back against the cushion, his legs spreading as his cock juts upward. His hands reach for you, pulling you toward him, guiding you onto his lap and helping you recline against him. Your back presses against his chest, his warmth melting some of the tension from your muscles. His arms wrap around your waist, anchoring you to him.

“Just relax,” His voice is calm and soothing as his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

Sylus steps closer, his sharp gaze raking over your trembling form, smirk widening as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties. He drags the soaked fabric down your thighs, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air.

“Fuck,” Sylus mutters, his eyes burning as he spreads your legs, his grip firm.

Zayne’s hands glide upward, smearing the mess of their release over your chest before his fingers close around your nipples, pinching just enough to make you gasp. Then, his fingers trail downward, leaving a sticky path until they stop just above your needy core. You grab onto his veiny forearms at the first stroke of his fingers over your clit, before his fingers dip lower, gathering your slick before gripping his cock. He presses the tip to your entrance, dragging the length of his shaft through your folds, catching your clit in the motion, making your pussy flutter.

Zayne shifts beneath you, the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance before nudging inside. The stretch is immediate, the delicious ache making your breath hitch as he pushes deeper, steadying your hips with firm hands. A raw, breathless moan escapes as he fills you, your head tilting back against his shoulder.

“That’s it.” Zayne whispers in your ear, his grip tightening as he holds you in place.

Every slow thrust presses against your most sensitive spots, each movement tightening the coil in your belly. Sylus watches as his hand wraps around his cock, stroking slowly to match the roll of Zayne’s hips.

“Fuck,” Sylus mutters. “Look at her—dripping down to the base, and you’ve barely started.”

Zayne chuckles softly, his lips brushing your ear as his thrusts grow deeper, each one sinking to the hilt. The intensity builds with each roll of his hips, his cock filling you completely. Your moans grow louder, more desperate, the sound making Sylus’ hand quicken as he strokes himself.

“Are you ready to take me too?” Sylus asks, his voice low and teasing.

Your body freezes momentarily at the question, your pussy clenching around Zayne’s length.

“You… both?” your voice trembles. The idea intrigues you, but you’re hesitant. “I don’t know if I can - I mean – I’m not sure it’ll fit -”

Sylus’ smirk widens. “Oh, it’ll fit,” his voice is almost mocking, “You’ve been so needy tonight. This is what you’ve been begging for, isn’t it?”

Zayne nuzzles against your ear, his lips brushing your skin. “But only if you want it.”

You fall silent, your breath shallow as you process their words. Sylus’ expression softens, his hand smoothing over your thigh as his gaze meets yours. “You can say no, darling.” he says softly.

Zayne presses a kiss just below your ear. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. You don’t have to take this any further.”

The sudden shift in their demeanor makes your chest tighten and their patience reassures you. You take a second to think. They’d never tried this before—never pushed to see if you could take them both at once. With how thick and long they both are, the idea had always seemed impossible. But tonight, the need is unbearable. You need to feel them—both of them—stretching you, breaking you, until there’s nothing left but the overwhelming sensation of them taking you completely.

You take in a shaky breath, “I want to. I’m ready.”

Zayne’s hands tighten gently around your waist, his lips brushing against your temple. “We’ll take care of you.”

Sylus’ teasing smirk returns. His hand grips his cock, the flushed head pressing against your stuffed entrance. Sylus’ cock nudges forward, catching your clit one, two times as he struggles to push inside. “Relax, sweetheart.” he whispers. Your legs tremble as Sylus presses forward again, the thick head of his cock pushing at your entrance again. A high-pitched whimper escapes you, as Sylus’ cock slips over your clit once more before the head finally begins to ease inside. Sylus moves slowly each inch forcing your body to adjust to the impossible fullness. The tip finally slips fully inside, your walls clamping down tightly around both of them. The sensation is almost too much, your gasps and desperate moans filling the air as your body struggles to adjust to the impossible fullness.

“Shh,” Zayne soothes, as he presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re doing perfectly. Just breathe, my darling.”

Sylus growls, his hand gripping your thighs as he stills. “So tight. Goddamn, Zayne, you’re not leaving much room.”

Zayne chuckles softly, his voice calm but you can feel his muscles tensing. Sylus shifts his hips, his tip stretching you impossibly as he inches deeper. The new fullness is overwhelming, every nerve inside you screaming for more.

“So fucking sensitive,” Zayne teases. “I bet she’ll cum before you’re even halfway there.”

The words make you whimper, your cheeks burning as Sylus pushes further. His hands tighten on your thighs as he finally bottoms out, holding still to let you feel every throbbing inch buried inside you. The maddening stretch of having both of them makes your pussy fluttering around them, pain and pleasure blurring together. Your breath comes in ragged, broken gasps as the tension in your belly coils tighter and tighter, impossibly close to snapping. You try to roll your hips, desperate to chase the climax that is right there, but their strong hands hold you still, denying you the friction you need

“I’m so close - !” you whimper, the desperation spilling from your lips as your head tilts back against Zayne’s shoulder. “I’m gonna—please, I need to—”

Sylus smirks down at you, “Close already?” he taunts. “I haven’t even fucking started yet.”

His hips shift slightly and that is all you need to fall apart, your orgasm crashing over you with devastating force. The tightness of your walls pulls guttural groans from both men, Zayne’s breath hitching against your neck as Sylus growls above you. They hold you steady while your body trembles in the aftermath, shallow gasps leaving your lips.

Sylus’ hand digs into your thigh, the grip bruising as his other hand braces on the backrest. His cock moves with shallow thrusts, the friction making your eyes roll back.

“You’re so sensitive,” Zayne murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “I can feel you clenching every time he moves.” Sylus’ pace quickens slightly, your moans growing louder as the coil in your belly tightens impossibly fast.

“Already?” Sylus teases, as he watches you writhe.

You don’t even register the question as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clench tightly around them both, the overwhelming tightness pulling a groan from Sylus, his hips stuttering briefly, while Zayne sucks in a sharp breath, his fingers tightening on your waist.

But Sylus doesn’t stop. His thrusts deepen, slamming into you, the drag along your oversensitive walls pulling pathetic whimpers as your pussy tightens around him. The slick, maddening friction of their cocks sliding together, every thrust dragging a raw moan from your lips as the stretch pushes you closer to the edge. Your breath catches, your back arching as the coil snaps. Pleasure rips through you, blinding and raw, tears streaking your face. You clench around them tighter, milking them both as the aftershocks crash through you.

Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his chest heaving against your back as his cock throbs inside you. The tight clamp of your walls around him has him on the brink, but he holds on as his hand moves downwards from your waist.

“You’ve got one more in you, I can feel it.” he rasps.

His fingers find your swollen clit, the first touch sending a shock through your body, making your hips jerk involuntarily. “Easy,” Zayne soothes, as he presses his fingers firmly against the sensitive spot.

Sylus’ grip on your thigh is bruising as he rams deeper, his eyes locked on yours – watery and heavy-lidded. “You’re milking me—gonna pull me apart.”

Zayne’s breath is hot against your ear, his fingers merciless on your clit, rubbing slick circles that make your hips jerk wildly. “Cum,” he rasps. “Now. Let us feel you, my love.”

Your body obeys - your walls clamp down hard, as you completely lose your voice from the overstimulation. Sylus curses, as your fluttering walls drag him deeper. His cock throbs hard before he cums, his release, hot and thick, floods you as his hips stammer. “Fuck, that’s it,” he growls, his voice breaking. In your fucked out daze you hear Zayne moan in the crook of your neck, as his hips still, burying himself to the hilt, his release hitting in heavy hot waves, mixing with Sylus’, leaving you completely full, dripping, and ruined.

Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, your head lolling back against Zayne’s shoulder. His lips press softly against your temple, his hands stroking your waist gently as Sylus leans over, his breaths heavy and uneven. Every inch of you feels hypersensitive, your skin slick with sweat and cum. You’re pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat, the fullness lingering even as the men stay still, both of them still buried deep inside you.

Sylus’ hand moves from your thigh, his gaze scanning your face. “Breathe for me.” he says, still breathless. His thumb brushes over your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that streaked down your face. You nod weakly, your throat too dry to speak, and you focus on steadying your breath. Sylus smiles softly. “You did so good.”

Zayne’s lips press against your temple again, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “She handled it perfectly. Didn’t you, darling?”

The praise makes your cheeks flush, though you’re still too dazed to say anything. Sylus shifts first, pulling out slowly, the movement making you wince. His hand stays steady on your thigh, stroking softly for a moment before he walks away. Zayne follows a moment later, his withdrawal careful and deliberate. The sudden emptiness pulls a small whimper from your lips before Zayne’s arms tighten around you, holding you firmly against his chest.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers. His hands rub soothing circles over your sides, grounding you as he shifts to sit upright, cradling you in his lap.

Sylus returns quickly with two warm damp cloths. Zayne takes one to clean your face, while Sylus kneels in front of you as he gently wipes away the mess from your thighs and belly.

Zayne murmurs against your temple. “Do you need water? Anything else?”

Your voice is faint, barely above a whisper, as you manage to say, “Just stay… both of you.”

Sylus chuckles softly. “Like we’d go anywhere,” He tosses the cloth aside and sits down on the sofa beside you, while Zayne adjusts his hold, setting you gently to sit in between them and covers your lap with the blanket. The warmth of their bodies, every soothing stroke of their hands, their quiet breaths, soothe you. Though, you can’t relax.

Their care, their unwavering attention, makes the guilt bubble up. Your lips part, but the words catch in your throat. You swallow hard, your fingers clutching the blanket as you glance between them.

You take a shaky breath. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For lying to you. For sneaking out.”

Zayne presses a kiss to your shoulder, his voice calm as he replies. “I’m glad you admit your mistake. We need to know where you are to keep you safe.”

Sylus’ nods as he caresses your cheek with the back of his hand. “Exactly. We weren’t mad because you went out. We were upset because you didn’t tell us.”

Tears prick your eyes again, but this time they’re from relief. “I won’t do it again… I promise.”

Zayne smiles softly. “We’ll hold you to that promise.”

You nod, the exhaustion catching up to you as your body sinks further into the sofa, your eyelids heavy. But Sylus doesn’t let you rest – he stands up and takes you hand in his. “We need to wash up.”

You whine. “I don’t want too - I’m too tired.”

Sylus grumbles something before he leans down, grips your waist, and hoists you up over his shoulder. You yelp as you’re suddenly upside down, your protests turning into a mix of laughter and annoyance as you squirm in his hold.

“Sylus!” you laugh, your fists half-heartedly thudding against his back. “Put me down!”

“Not happening,” he replies smugly, his palm landing a playful smack against your bare ass.

Behind you, Zayne shakes his head, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he stands up, going around you two and towards the bathroom. “Take it easy, Sylus. She’s had enough for tonight.”

By the time you’re back in bed, wrapped snugly in fresh blankets, sleep takes you almost instantly, nestled between Sylus and Zayne, with your heart light.

#ncs secret santa #merry ficmas #sylus love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #zayne smut #zayne x reader #zayne x you #sylus smut #lads sylus #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #qin che #l&ds zayne #lnds zayne #love and deepspace zayne #zayne lads #love and deepspace

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tbaluver · 23 days ago

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Hi hii how are you doing?? I've been thinking about mc catching the lads men masturbating to the thoughts of mc, do you think you could write something like that?

Imagine probably fits this more but obviously do whatever you feel like with this! If you want to write just headcannons that's obviously up to you! ^^

I love your work a lot, you're doing great <33

caught white handed!- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader summary: you caught them touching themselves! warnings/ tags: MDNI, male masturbation, p in v, a/n: hihi izzyy !! i hope you enjoy reading ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ rest of my notes will be below <3 did you guys see what i did there in the title (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

it was a cold night yet xavier felt so hot. he softly groaned, his eyebrows furrowing as his eyes slowly flutter open. his eyes travel down his body, his dick straining against his grey sweats.

his eyes flicker over to your peacefully sleeping form. he can’t wake you, not when you have an important mission tomorrow. you need your rest and he knows he needs all of your stamina.

he sighs, tugging his grey sweats and boxers down. his cock springs free, begging to get a release. he lifts the hem of his shirt, biting down onto it so it suppresses any sound he can make.

he flutters his eyes closed, trying to grasp the wet dream he had. ah yes. his were lips grazed on every surface of you he can touch, his mouth leaving wet trails all over your body. he remembers trying to fight the urge to roll on top of you, to see your tits bounce every time he thrust into you.

his eyes flutter open again, watching his fist drag up and down his shaft slowly. he wishes his hand on his cock would be your cunt around him right now. he lets his head fall back further into the plush of the pillow as he tries to visualize more of your naked figure.

how he wishes you didn’t get assigned to that mission and how the plush of your walls would welcome his cock. how he would pound into you from behind and watch your ass jiggle, his hands leaving marks from how hard he’s gripping your hips. how your delicate hands would desperately be holding on the sheets of the bed as you moan his name in pleasure.

his eyes flicker to your sleeping form again, licking his lips when he sees your tit slipping out of your tank top. he increases the pace of his hand as he continues staring, how he wishes he can suck and lick them right now.

he visualizes pinning you down with his large form towering over you as he drills his dick deep inside of you. he clenches his eyes as he tries to suppress the groan, his pace picking up.your tits bouncing with each thrust, your mouth parted slightly, making drool drip down to your chin. your eyes half-lidded, drunk off of his cock. how he wishes he could shoot his thick loads of cum into you instead of wiping it away.

he can hear you moaning and chanting his name, “xavier, xavier”, unaware that it was actually you calling right beside him. xavier’s movement slows, his gaze locking onto yours with pleading eyes. “help” he whimpers, releasing the hem of his shirt from his teeth.

Zayne:

pages and pages of patient records and nursing notes were scattered across zayne’s desk. leaning slightly, he observes the new notes from the nursing staff. a few of the updates regarding the patient's conditions and status changes were incorrect, requiring his attention to make corrections. he couldn’t help but feel frustrated. this wasn’t the kind of work he’d hope to take home after a long day in the operating room.

he shifts his focus between the reports and his computer but his gaze keeps wandering to the framed pictures and trinkets on his desk. it was very unlike zayne to be so easily distracted, yet the little memories seemed to pull his attention away.

he could already hear your voice teasing him “you’re always telling me to take breaks, maybe you should listen to your own advice zayne!” and he would glance down at you, imagining the playful pout on your face as you drag him out of the room.

your soft hands would guide him to the couch, away from the stress that had been weighing down on him. you must have made him something sweet as you reach for the cup, bending purposely low enough for him to catch a glimpse of your ass. you would settle comfortably on his lap, letting him take the first sip while never breaking eye contact with you. once he finishes, you take a small sip, a small dribble of the drink slips down your chin lower and lower.

a playful smile would tug at the corner of your lips as you nuzzle in closer to him. he could feel your boobs pressing against him while your delicate hands trace the buttons of his shirt as you ask him with pleading eyes, “what’s on your mind zayne?”

he could’ve easily told you about his frustrations right now but both of you knew the answer was simple, it was you. zayne was quite strong and patient but when it came to you, you were the sun to his snow, melting and leaving him completely vulnerable just by your touch.

he momentarily loses his train of thought, his cock straining hard against his pants. he hesitates, feeling guilty for thinking about the possibilities of what could’ve happened in the scenario he imagined. but when his palm drags slowly against his clothed length, he feels relief spreading through his body.

he tries to fight back these images of you, he has to go back and finish his work but how can he when small mementos of you are all over his desk? his desk, where he’s taken you over and under many times. the way he would have you bent over his desk, his cock rubbing against your weeping cunt before slowly sinking in. your cunt fluttering as it envelops his length completely.

he groans as he feels himself grow harder, the outline of his cock pressing against his trousers, begging to be free. he unbuckles his belt before lifting his hips up to pull down his pants and boxers, his cock springing free. his palm drags slowly along his length, the relief he once felt spreading through his body again.

he imagines it’s your soft warm hands that drag along his shaft. he visualizes you sitting here with your legs spread wide on his desk instead of these papers scattered all over. he lets his head fall back on his office chair, his eyes half- lidded as he imagines your weeping cunt. your beautiful eyes staring up at him as you take him fully as he kneads your pretty boobs.

your pretty moans, your walls fluttering around his dick was driving his mind insane. he squeezes his cock harder at the thought, feeling his orgasm nearing. soft groans as he thinks of his name falling from your lips. he pumps faster and faster until those beautiful eyes of yours are standing right in front of his door, holding his box from his favorite bakery.

zayne’s ears are bright red and you can’t tell whether it’s from rubbing his length or you finding him the act. he breathes in deeply, trying to sit up until you close the door and set the box aside.

“do you need any help doc-tor?”

Rafayel:

thomas had assigned him another art piece for an upcoming event but unfortunately the art block had plagued him for days. the deadline was approaching soon and surely thomas would nag him nonstop if he didn’t come up with anything. so in the last attempt, he found himself swimming in his bathtub, a pencil balanced over his nose as he stared blankly at the canvas in front of him.

he absentmindedly paddled his feet in the water, boredom creeping in. he missed you. thomas had banished you ( errands to help with the event ) so he could focus on the project, but how was he supposed to concentrate when his greatest inspiration isn’t by his side?

he pouts, sitting up to grab a towel to dry off the water on his skin before it smudges the canvas. pulling the canvas closer, he begins sketching. he starts with your cute little head, the one he loves to kiss so much. he captures the strands of your hair that contain the scent he adores, the one that always smells like home. and he adds your bright smile, the one that lights up his entire day.

he lowers to your chest, the one where he loves to lick and squeeze that makes you throw your head back. then down to your tummy, the place he loves to tease you with trails of wet kisses because he knows he’s getting closer. and your legs, the legs that would be pressed together whenever you were so shy to show him your soaking cunt.

he lets out a deep breath, his eyes travel down his body, his dick already hard and throbbing. he sinks back into the tub, taking his cock into his hand, stroking lazily up and down. his studio was empty so doesn’t bother suppressing his whimpers.

he licks his lips as he imagines your naked figure, water trickling down your wet breasts, your nipples hard and perky. your pretty little hand and eyes admiring his toned chest. he watches his fist drag up and down his shaft, pre-cum already leaking from his slit. those pretty eyes, the ones that look up at him pleadingly as your lips wrap around the head of his cock.

how he loved to imagine hearing you beg as he sits you down on his cock in the water, begging for friction, for movement. impatient girl

he imagines bending you over the cold surface of the tub, slowly sinking into you. how wet your body would be and the sounds you two would create once he was fully in. plap! plap! plap! wet and slippery skins against each other as his other hand slides up your sides to grab your ass or thighs.

he pumps faster and faster into his swollen tip, unaware that you dropped the art supplies the moment you walked into the door. he was wrapped in his own world that he didn’t even hear you pick up and spill a million apologies.

he pants heavily, snapping out of his daze. his half-lidded eyes meet yours as he extends his hand towards you. “well? a performance always deserves some kind of reward.”

Sylus:

your boss let you go home early once there were no signs of energy fluctuations in any nearby areas and that everything seemed to be running smoothly. as you made your way to the bathroom, you figured a hot shower would hit the spot once you heard the water running.

your breath catches in your throat once you cracked the door open enough, catching a glimpse of sylus through the foggy glass of the shower doors.

even through the foggy glass, you could tell from the position he was in and what he was doing. one hand pressed against the foggy glass while the other wrapped tightly around his flushed cock. he watched his hand drag along his length, filled with nothing but thoughts of you.

you couldn’t help but watch, completely captivated by the way his white wet hair frames his sharp features, how water drips down to his toned muscles. you stood by the door completely frozen, lost in a daze until his voice broke through the silence of your thoughts.

“y/n” a moan escaping his lips as he imagines you being there with him in the shower. droplets of water run down his muscular nude body. the water was warm but yet he felt burning hot.

it was an addictive image of you where his cock was nestled between your lips, his fingers tangling in your hair. he can imagine your lips around the head of his cock, sucking lightly and hollowing out your cheeks before pulling back with a lewd and wet sound.

you’d repeat your motions, swirling your tongue along his tip, relaxing your jaw to take his cock once more. he sees your body below him, your wet hair framing your face beautifully as your eyes looked at him as he carefully works his cock down the tight tunnel of your throat.

but it doesn’t stop there.

he visualizes pinning you against the foggy glass of the shower doors, sinking his thick cock into your soaking hole. your legs would wrap around his waist, a moan escaping your lips as he pushes all the way in. his hips slap against your own while your wet tits bounce as his cock drills into your pussy.

he pumps faster into his swollen tip, thrusting into his fast. you can hear him spill curses and praises for you as he continues to think of the way how your cunt clenched around his length.

you squeeze your legs together as you look away from the door, your panties wet from watching your lover get off to you. you were lost in your own world as you debated on joining him or handling things with your own hands, that you didn’t even notice the sounds that slip off his lips had come to a halt. it wasn’t until the door opened that snapped you back to reality.

a towel hung loosely around his waist, his damp hair sticking to his skin while water trickles down the outlines of his muscles. he tilts his head slightly, a small smirk curling at the corners of his lips. “i hope you enjoyed my show. you’re more than welcome to join.”

a/n: ahhhh hihi again izzy ! im doing well since im finally in my winter break i hope you're doing great luv lmk <3 i apologize this took me forever to write i was busy with school so i kept going back and forth with the rough draft and school (╥﹏╥) i wanted to make sure at least all of them were in diff scenarios :o i hope you enjoyed reading ! thank you for supporting and reading my works it truly means so much to me !! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ i hope to see you again soon (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

special thank yous to my beta readers mwah; @ilovemitsuya , @justwinginglife ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

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