#i know this is stupid it just makes me smile | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cinnamorollcrybaby · 5 hours ago

Note

heyyy so like you are the only creator i fllw that can maybe write this...uhm like sukuna and insecure!reader that start making out and it gets heated and then sukuna takes readers shirt off and then his but when he wants to pull down her pants she stops him bcz she is insecure of her stretch marks but then he reassures her and they do it😭 I hope you will maybe write this and didn't have a stroke trying to understand this request 💓

- love anoo (i LOOVEE your work)

Unwavering

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, insecure!reader, soft!Sukuna, trueform!sukuna, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, mdni, NO PROOFREAD SORRY IM TIRED.

An: I think this is a stupid cute idea 🥹 Thank you for trusting me and requesting anoo!! I really appreciate it 🫂

Sukuna’s a patient man. He had waited over a thousand years to execute a failing plan to take over the world. Now that he’s lost, he’s decided to take up other avenues in his life.

Learning to simply… live was hard. Sukuna’s a determined man. He needs to have a goal in mind in order to function. Whatever meaningless hobby he took up, he tried being the best at.

With his newfound free time, he also decided to try to live the slow life. He took meaningless trips to coffee shops, and he tried not to think about murder when everyone screamed and ran away from him. Maybe it was his 7’3 stature… maybe it was the extra set of arms… maybe it was the tattoos.

Everyday he was reminded of why he didn’t live this life in the first place. Humans do not accept him. They do not want him in their society. He was willing to bet that they’d almost rather him play the villain… Then, they could all shamelessly hate him.

Though, there was one human who didn’t run. The nervous barista gave him a shaky smile, and she politely asked for his name.

Sukuna was taken aback. This tiny mortal wants to know his name? Knowing someone’s name in the heien era was a privilege — not a right. He grew up and lived in a time before social media and phones. If you wanted to know someone’s name, you had to ask them for it, and they had to be willing to oblige you in an answer.

With your cute demeanor, Sukuna was willing to oblige you with his name. “It’s Suk-“ He stopped himself. That was a name that struck fear into people’s hearts. He didn’t want to be associated with that fear anymore, and the thought of frightening you actually brought him no joy. “Ryomen.”

You gave another shaky smile before you carefully etched his name into the side of a cup. For you, this interaction was terrifying, but you couldn’t afford to quit in this economy. So, you were serving a monster. No big deal.

“I like that name.” You complimented. It’s often a compliment you give patrons when you’re nervous… or when you’re trying your hand at flirting. Either way, you look back up at him, trying not to focus on the extra set of eyes. “What can I get you?”

Sukuna felt a weird shiver going up his back when you complimented him. Perhaps this was your cursed technique? Were you a sorcerer pretending to be a barista, so you could spy on him? The shiver wasn’t necessarily unpleasant… just unfamiliar. He didn’t hear much compliments from anyone besides Uraume, and Uraume’s doesn’t count. They compliment him for everything, including the way he breathes. He finds it annoying.

“It’s custom to give your own name when someone else has graced you with theirs.” He grunted, coming off much more gruff than he intended. He just wanted to know your name.

“Oh…” Your voice was soft, and you gaze away from the behemoth in your lobby. Was this some sort of trick? Some old myths and legends say that a name holds power. Would he be able to kill you if he knew your name?? You glance back over at him, noting his large muscled and incredibly toned chest that his kimono didn’t bother hiding. He was so fucking big. Your thoughts were completely baseless. If he wanted to kill you, he simply just could — regardless of knowing your name. “It’s yn.” You finally answer.

Sukuna nodded. “That’s a good name.” He realized that his compliment didn’t sound as personable as yours. It’s his first time though… He’s sure that he’ll figure it out.

“Thank you..” You respond as you started to contemplate what exactly your life had come to. You were having a semi-pleasant interaction with a monster at your job… Do you get paid enough to deal with this? “So… Ryomen, what can I get for you?”

Sukuna felt another shiver. He liked hearing your voice say his name. He wanted to hear it again and again. He wanted his name to fall from your lips like a mantra as he made love to you.

Shaking away those pestering thoughts, he finally gets to the task at hand. “Yes.. what is this.. coffee that you mortals speak of..?”

Oh boy.

*** *** ***

After explaining to the very skeptical monster what coffee was, you served him a cup with very little milk and sugar. Sukuna was delighted by the taste, and he was delighted with your company.

He made it apart of his routine. He woke up, took care of himself, got dressed in whatever Uraume had picked out from his closet, and he set forth to your coffee shop, where he’d hang around for hours — scaring away every potential customer.

He asked you all sorts of things, and you two got to know each other better. It was an unlikely bond.

It took him forever to finally kiss you. Scared of running off his one and only human companion — his first chance of living the slow life, he wanted to make sure you absolutely were ready and wanted that sort of relationship with him.

It led to some rather funny moments of you trying to kiss him, him getting confused and flustered, leaving you to feel rejected.

But when he finally did kiss you, Sukuna felt a sort of hunger that he hadn’t felt in his years of living. Sure, he has had sex before, mostly out of sheer boredom. Immortality isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.

But this, this was different. This was lust, longing, yearning. He wanted to make you feel good. He needed to show you how… happy you make him.

He had you sat upon his lap as he chased your lips with feverish kisses. Today would be the day. He’s going to finally indulge himself in your warm embrace and allow himself to enjoy on of the most human of pleasures: connection.

His hands were slowly rubbing your hips — trailing them up and down, feeling the beautiful curvature of your body. He loved every ditch and mound. He loved how you just fit against him.

His hands finally take a chance, and he slips them underneath your shirt. The skin-on-skin contact is nearly dizzying, and he feels almost embarrassed for letting a little bit of steamy foreplay get him so riled up. He can’t help it though, not when your lips taste so sweet.

Your shirt is promptly slipped up over your head, and he discards it to the side. His oversized palms slide up your tummy to your chest where he carefully grasped at your breast, groaning into your mouth as he feels the fullness and weight in his hand.

Though, despite his lust clouded brain, he didn’t miss the way your stomach flexed and tensed under his touch. Assuming you were just a big ticklish, he decided to ignore it.

His lips trail down to your neck, where he’s making mark after mark on you. Every mortal who dared to step foot in that coffee shop should know you’re not on the menu.

“Ryo.” You gasp his name so sweetly while your jaw tilts back ever so slightly. He’s never been a witness to something so pretty and pure.

His teeth go to nip at your neck, and his hands slide to your back, so he can free you from this contraption that dares to keep your beautiful breasts from his reach.

After a moment of trial and error (and a small giggle from you), Sukuna finally unclasps your bra, and his mouth waters when he’s graced with the sight.

He doesn’t take a moment for granted. Living the slow life would need to wait for a moment while he chases this euphoric feeling you give him.

His hand rests underneath the globe, and he flicks his tongue out over your nipple. For a moment, he wonders if his ministrations are more for you or him. His answer comes to him in the form of a breathy whine from you.

Clasping his mouth over the swollen bud, he uses his hand to toy with your other one. Your hands are entangled in his hair, weakly tugging as you let out those frantic whines.

He switches sides, paying an equal amount of attention to your other breast. He’s subtly experimenting with your body, trying to determine which of his tongue movements do you like the best based off the sounds that fall from your lips.

Licking and gentle sucks seem to be the winner. Personally, Sukuna would like to try biting, but you had let out this pained hiss when he tried. He quickly went back to his more gentle, loving licks.

By this time, his cocks were throbbing in agony. He can’t remember a time where he’s been this hard and hadn’t already decided to promptly handle it himself.

His hands fall to the waistband of your legging that hug around your hips, and he notices you tensing and arching away from his touch once more. He pulls away from your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’.

“Do you have a secret wound that you are not telling me about?” He finally prompts you, hands moving to your back where you seem more comfortable with him touching.

You shift just a bit in his lap from the sudden discomfort of the conversation. You figured this would come up at some point, but you didn’t know how he was going to handle it. Debating on lying to him and saying you are wounded, you actually end up deciding to tell the truth.

“It’s not that. I just…” Your eyes try to find anything else in the room other than him to focus on. “… don’t know if I am ready for you to see me like this.”

Sukuna’s face relaxes, and he sits up to eye you. “That’s an interesting choice of words, princess.” He casually notes before his hands go back to idly rubbing on your waist. “If you’d like to stop, you can just come out and say that. I think I can surprise you with my patience.”

You give him a small appreciative smile. Despite the coldness of his sharp facial features, Sukuna can say somethings that just instantly warm you to him. “It’s not that I don’t want this because I really do… Can we.. just maybe turn the light off when we…?”

His eyebrows furrow. If you wanted this, why did you seem so cautious. Then, it hits him. It must be his face and extra appendages. With the lights off, you can pretend that he’s another mortal man… that is very large and muscular.

“I don’t think dimming the lights will erase an extra set of eyes and arms, but I will do it to ease your worries, princess.”

Your eyes widen, realizing Sukuna had taken your request the entirely wrong way. “What-? Nononono- I don’t want to hide you.” You quickly scramble to get the words out, and Sukuna seems surprised when you cup his jaw so lovingly. “You’re perfect. I’m trying to hide myself from you.”

Sukuna blinks a few times, taken aback by your admission. “Why would you punish me that way?” He asks, not able to fathom why you would hide the most perfect thing he’s ever seen from him.

You’re rendered completely silent. Truthfully, you know why you don’t want him seeing you naked. You’ve seen the sight before… the purple and blue stretch marks that litter your lower tummy and inner thighs. You don’t want to tell him what’s making you so shy to the idea because then he’ll only notice it more. Plus, anytime you’re honest with yourself about the insecure thoughts, it feels like you’re one of those girls who fish for compliments.

Sukuna, while not very emotionally intelligent, is able to see the emotional turmoil you’re going through. His hands slowly move from your hips to your cheeks, and he holds your face to maintain eye contact with you.

“Do you know how long I’ve been alive?” He asks. His tone is warm and even. His red ochre eyes resting upon yours.

“No, I don’t.” You answer truthfully. You knew he was immortal, and he had lived a long life already. You just didn’t know how long that was.

His thumb tenderly strokes your cheek as he admires you. “I’m older than soap.” He quietly laughs. “I promise you… I have seen some things that you couldn’t fathom. Across all my time on this horrible planet, I have been with curses and mortals alike, and trust me mortal women put curses to shame when it comes to what’s downstairs.”

You let out an appreciative laugh, easing up in his lap. His lips crack into a small smile — glad he’s able to provide you with some comfort.

His hands engulf your cheeks. “You are the prettiest thing these hands have ever touched. Nothing about you could turn my gaze away. You have my word.”

“Besides, I think you may be a bit more put off by what my clothes are hiding.” He adds, piquing your curiosity.

“Oh? Is that right?” You ask with a cheeky smile that makes Sukuna’s chest feel all warm.

“If you’d like..” His voice feels like velvet across your skin. He speaks in a purr. “I can show you.”

Your mind goes completely blank, but you nod slowly, encouraged by his words. His lips reconnect with your neck, kissing right below your ear, and he moves his hands to your hips, guiding your movements to slowly grind against him.

You’re able to feel just how well endowed he is through the thin fabric of your leggings and panties. Every inch slides against you — rubbing and bumping against you in just the right way.

It quickly derails into another needy makeout session — as if you two are horny teenagers chasing each other’s lips.

This time, Sukuna undoes his own robes first. His philosophy is that once you see that he has two cocks instead of one, you’ll feel comfortable enough showing whatever you’re so afraid of.

Your eyes widen, and your head tilts a bit, causing Sukuna to chuckle. “Told ya I would win.” He smirked proudly.

“How am I…?” Your voice trailed off, not even knowing what to say — too embarrassed to ask how you’re suppose to take all that.

“Slowly and with a lot of prep.” He gives you a toothy grin, showing off his fangs. “Now…” His hands slowly dipped back down to your hips and the waistband of your leggings.

You tense up involuntarily, but you nod slowly, giving him permission. Sukuna lifts you off his lap, and he carefully lies you on your back against his bed — treating you like you’re fragile.

Once your leggings are discarded, your eyes avoid his — too scared of what he’d might think. You don’t even look down to see what you look like in this position, knowing you’d just end up turning yourself off if you saw the marks on your thighs and tummy.

Sukuna’s eyes rest upon your pretty cotton panties that are soaked and sticking to your cunt. His mouth waters from the sight, and he tests his luck, slowly removing your panties from your body.

Your pussy looks even more delicious than he could’ve imagined. His cock literally twitches from the sight before he gets on his knees at the edge of the bed, and he pulls you by your hips down to where he can get a good smell of your arousal.

He groans from your scent, imagining just what you’re going to taste like on his tongue. He wonders if you’re more of a moaner or a crier, but he snaps his thoughts back to your earlier hesitancy.

“What was there to be nervous about, princess?” He asks as his fingers can’t resist touching you. He teases your clit gently as he waits for an answer.

“I-“ You stifle a small whimper as you feel his fingers graze against you gently. After a beat of silence, you finally speak back up again. “It’s just… the stretch marks.” You mumble quietly.

Sukuna furrows his brow, and he looks down to where your inner thighs are, and he looks at your tummy. “What about them?” He bluntly asks.

You shift uncomfortably, wishing you could wipe his memory of it entirely. “I just don’t like how they look is all.”

Sukuna’s thumb slowly applies pressure to your clit, and he starts to rub in loose circles. “That’s stupid. Everyone has them.” He replies bluntly, his more rough around the edges nature coming out as he listened to you.

A small muffled whine comes from your lips, and you arch your back as you feel his ministrations. “What?” You ask, not able to grasp what he’s saying.

Sukuna smirks as he sees you start to lose track of the conversation. He leans into your cunt before letting out a warm puff of air from his mouth. He loves watching how your entrance tries to clench around nothing. It’s cute seeing how your soaking wet pussy thinks it’ ready for him.

“I said that’s dumb. Everyone had stretch marks. It’s a part of growth.” He reasserts as he looks back up at you.

“You clearly haven’t seen girls on the internet.” You mutter, but your attitude is quickly dispelled whenever Sukuna lightly spanks your cunt, causing for a wet slapping noise.

“No. I haven’t. I have no interest in looking at something fake.” His eyes glare at you before he leans in and gives your swollen clit a kiss. His tongue darts out, and he laps at your puffy folds. A groan escapes from his mouth from your taste, gently vibrating against your cunt before pulling away and returning his thumb to your clit. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed over such trivial things. The marks just show that you have grown, and everyone grows. That’s it.”

You try to think of a rebuttal, but your mind is so cloudy with lust that you can’t think of one. Your hips lift from the bed with a small whine — no longer wishing to focus on your insecurities. You even look down, not caring if you’re going to see the stretch marks. Your eyes meet his, and you give him a pitiful gaze.

Sukuna instantly chuckles as he knows what you’re wanting. “We’ll come back to this, princess.” He hums before he dives back in, gently kissing and suckling on your clit. If his eyes weren’t closed, he’s sure they’d roll back into his head from how sweet you taste.

When he feels your hands grabbing onto his hair, he lets out a small smug laugh before lapping at your cunt with his tongue. The wet sticky noises fill the room along with your moans and whines.

Sukuna begins to wish that he was blessed with two tongues like he was given two of every thing else, and that’s when he remembers…

His mouth is focused on your clit, licking, swirling his tongue around, gently kissing. He brings his hand below his jaw, and he presses it against your opening.

You’re briefly confused, but you don’t question him since he’s making you feel this damn good with his mouth. Your confusion is quickly whisked away when you feel a second tongue delving deep inside you.

“Fuck-!” You moan before quickly jerking your hips up, but his other set of hands holds your waist down while he enjoys his meal.

Sukuna’s such a genius. With this technique, he can make you feel twice as good, which means you get twice as wet.

His tongues work together, lapping and plunging to drink the most nectar from you. Your poor thighs are already shaking, and you’re a squirmy thing when you’re getting close.

Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind though. He’s so lost in your perfect cunt that anything besides the word “stop” would fly right over his head.

“K-Kuna… mmnnf! I’m gonna…. ah, gonna cum.” You warn, feeling that pit tightening in your stomach. He pulls you down onto his mouths harder, frantically devouring you as he hasn’t had his fill yet.

“Cum for me.” His words are deep and raw with desire. He pulses his hand tongue in and out of you quickly until he feels the way your sloppy walls constrict around him, making small squelching noises as you find your orgasm.

“Fuck-! Shiiiit~” You whine as your hips try to lift up, trying to escape all of the stimulation.

“Thaaat’s it.” He purrs as he watches his hand mouth do all the work. His chin is absolutely covered in your juices but he doesn’t seem to mind.

When your body relaxes, and you’re panting against his bed, Sukuna promptly removes his hand mouth before plunging two fingers deep inside your wet heat.

His fingers are so thick and long. He’s literally a monster. Taking two of his fingers is like taking four of your own. The stretch burns but in the best way possible.

“Ah-! W-wait.. too much!” You whimper, leaning your head back with a quiet hiss.

“Really? I think you can handle it.” Sukuna taunts with a small smirk before carefully pumping his fingers in and out. Your pussy is still so soaked, fluttering around his fingers to cause wet mushy noises. “I’d say she’s enjoying it.” He adds with a smug grin, referring to how noisy your cunt is.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to cope with how sensitive you are right after finishing so hard on his hand and mouth, but your eyes snap right back open when you feel his oversized palm grab onto your chin.

“Ah, ah, I want you to look at me, pretty girl.” He teases with a toothy grin. “Look at who you’re letting get you off.”

“Fuck..” You whimper as you try to lean up to kiss him, but Sukuna leans back and rejects you. He’s still such an asshole.

“You’re not getting out of looking at me.” His fingers start to piston harder, curling upwards until his bumps against that special spot that makes you see stars.

Your eyes cross as you grab at the sheets. No one had ever made you feel this good, not even you could when you touch yourself.

Sukuna’s just content drawing orgasm after orgasm. He loves watching you let go of all that worry you had, letting you focus on some of your most primal desires, and it does things to him knowing that you’re comfortable to do this with him — comfortable letting him see this side of you.

His cocks are still rock hard, pressed against his stomach as he feels how tight you are wrapped around his fingers. “You’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.” His voice is a low growl, fingering you harder as he thinks about what it’s going to be like to finally fuck you.

Your pussy is sobbing all over his fingers, damn near coating his hand in your arousal. He’s bullying your g-spot again and again, fucking directly into it to make you whine and cry out in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like that idea? How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He taunts, feeling the way your walls are constricting around his fingers. He can tell you’re getting close again.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the mattress. Your skin feels like it’s vibrating as your pleasure starts to build once more.

“That’s not an answer.” Sukuna’s other hand swats at your bottom, causing for a slapping noise to echo in rhe room.

“Badly! B-badly… please fuck me. Please!” You whine as you’re on the brink of an orgasm.

Sukuna’s fast. He removes his fingers, but before you have time to react, one of his cocks is sliding in, replacing that empty feeling.

Even with all that prep, it’s a tight squeeze, making even Sukuna growl. “Fuck. How can you be this tight?” His hands grab onto your hips as he buries himself to the hilt.

Your back is arching off the bed, letting out silent screams that come out as whiny mewls. The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your spongy walls start to clench around him, pulsing as another orgasm is pulled from you.

Sukuna’s stuck in an awkward position as he’s too tall to fuck like this, besides he doesn’t want to move to ruin your orgasm, so he stays leaning over you as your body comes undone beneath him.

“Beautiful.” He groans, admiring your raw beauty as you cum on his cock. He’s truly never seen anything like it. You’re such a beautiful mess.

Your breath is shaky as you slowly come down. Sukuna sits patiently waiting for you to calm. His hips are beckoning to move, but he sits still, letting you get use to the feeling of being so full.

“Ah… hah.. fuck.. s’kuna..” Your voice is breathy, filled with utter need that makes his cock twitch inside you.

“Up you go.” He murmurs as he wraps his monstrous arms around you, lifting your body with absolute ease. He’s able to maintain full control over your body as he eases you down onto his cock carefully.

Your body is shaky, and covered in a sheen of sweat as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging his body to yours closely. You two are connected in every way.

His lips press sweet kisses to your cheek and neck, gently nipping at your skin to give him something to focus on so he doesn’t absolutely ruin your cunt immediately.

It doesn’t take long before you’re squirming in his arms, trying to get whatever friction you can out of him. He chuckles lowly, “Careful princess. Don’t hurt yourself.” He purrs directly into your ear, breath brushing against you.

He slowly picks you up, until just his tip remained inside, plugging your tight cunt before he lowers you back down onto him like you weigh nothing.

“Mmm fuck… such a perfect cunt.” He growls before picking you up once more and lowering you back down. He loves the way your soft body feels against his, and you’re so warm. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

“Goood girl..” He praises in a soft whisper. He’s not use to giving out compliments still… but he’s getting better. He’s been learning by watching your reactions, and this is by far the one that makes you blush the most.

“Mmph~ Kuna… so deep..” You whimper into his neck. He continues to move you up and down his cock, using you like a perfect little fleshlight.

The sound of wet squelches and clapping stays consistent throughout the room, and his other cock throbs from neglect - a pearl of pre-cum leaking out.

“Gotta give both of them attention, baby. I’m greedy.” He growls before slides all the way out of you, and he pushes his other cock inside instead.

They feel almost identical, except with different curvature. He was a little more forceful now, jerking your body up and down his length aggressively.

Your clit rubs against his pelvis, creating for the perfect friction. You grip at his shoulders, squeezing your eyes shut as it’s all just so much.

Your thighs were trembling, and you let out every cry of pleasure that bubbled in your throat. No way to try to gain any control in this situation — you’re forced to just take it and cope with the stimulation.

Sukuna grunts and growls with each thrust. One of his other hands that aren’t holding you up reaches up to grasp your hair, and he pulls it back — forcing you to look him in the eye while he fills you so full again and again.

Your mewls and cries only fuel the more primal side to him. His mind is cloudy — chasing that high, wanting to spill himself so deep inside you that you feel him for days to come.

He yanks your hips up, and he takes a moment before he carefully sinks you back down on both his cocks. Both of them are slick from your arousal, but you’re still so tight.

“S’kuna~! Wait- nnngh… fuck I can’t!” You cry out, holding his gaze with bleary eyes from overstimulated tears.

“Shhh.. you can take it.” He mumbles lowly. “You wanna make me proud, don’t you? Take it…”

It feels like he’s splitting you apart while he tries to push deeper. Your entire body is trembling against him, let out pained whimpers as well as pleasurable cries because the stretch feels so good.

He gives your poor cunt just a moment to adjust before he starts bouncing you along both his cocks. The way your drooling cunt clenches around him, smushing his cocks together while he ruts upwards into you, making him grunt with pleasure.

You’re a whimpering mess in his arms, already embarrassingly close to your third orgasm while both his cocks are kissing your cervix so deeply — both leaking with an unnatural amount of pre-cum to make sure your pussy stays nice and lubricated for them.

His hand pulls your hair again, forcing your eyes back up at him. “Look at me.” He growls in a demanding tone, “Look at me while I breed this cunt.”

All 5 of his red eyes focus on you — completely enamored by your beauty. Lost in the haze and heat, only a couple words could fall from his lips. “So pretty…”

As if on cue, he feels your gummy walls squeeze around him, and tears fall from your eyes as your brought into another soul-crashing orgasm. His hands continue to bounce you up and down, riding you through your orgasm before he pushes himself in so deep. He swears he can feel your womb.

Both of his cocks pulse inside you, pumping your abused cunt so full of cum that it seeps from the edges of your entrance while he’s still plugging you.

“Oh gods-! F-fuck…” You whimper as it’s so hot. Like, it’s genuinely so warm in your pussy — you’re almost worried. “Why..” You manage to pant out, trying to ask him why it feels like that.

“Shh.. shh.. I have no explanation for you, princess. It just feels that way.” He speaks lowly as he slowly sits on the bed, still holding your body in his lap.

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, and he feels your heart beat against his flesh. As he holds you to him, he wonders that if he had a heart, would it be in sync with yours? Would you two beat as one?

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #fanfic #drabble #jjk suggestive #jjk smut #jjk sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jjk ryomen #ryomen x reader

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papaya-twinks · 2 days ago

Note

Idk if this is something weird to request! But I have diagnosed autism, and struggle with so many things because of it, I was wondering if you could write like a lando x autism gf? Maybe where fans make fun of her? Or something! If you’re not comfortable with writing that I understand!🫶

Warnings: I refuse to put autism as a warning. Anyways, crying, mental breakdown.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I’d never be uncomfortable writing about conditions/diseases or anything! ❤��❤️

“Y/N, I’m gonna get to the shops, is there anything you- baby, what’s wrong?” Lando cut himself off, his eyes widening as he walked into the lounge to the sound of your sniffles, your knees pulled to your chest.

“Oh, um, nothing,” you said, wiping your eyes hastily, very nearly poking yourself on the eyes in the process, a fake smile forced onto your face as your boyfriend raised a brow.

“Y/N, give me the phone,” Lando said, his voice half-stern, the authority in his tone making it almost hard to say no. “Lando, I-,” you started, hesitant to hand the device over, especially over what you’d read.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you give me that phone right now,” he said, his voice stern as your shoulder dropped in defeat, handing the phone over begrudgingly. He clucked his tongue, opening it with the password - his birthday.

“Why?” Lando said, his voice calmer and softer now as he sat down beside you, “Baby, why do you do this to yourself, why do you reset this bullshit?” he wrapped an arm round you as your lip quivered again.

“I can’t help it, Lando,” you said, your voice cracking, “people keep making fun of me and I’m trying to seem more normal and-and stuff,” you said, your gaze falling down to the floor, your tears falling.

“I’m trying, okay?! I’m trying to seem like a normal girlfriend and not some person whos weird or a freak!” you almost screamed, quoting what those stupid, stupid people online called you.

“Y/N, Y/N!” Lando yelled, his voice matching, and surpassing yours, as he held your shoulders firmly, snapping you out of your breakdown. “I fucking love you, I don’t give a shit what people say!”.

“I know, but dont you read it? They say I’m a-,” you started again as Lando dug his nails into your shoulder, a hiss on your lips. “Dont you fucking dare! Dont you tell me their stupid bullshit, Y/N,”.

“Im sorry,” you said, your voice cracking, “I just- I struggle doing everyday things and I hate asking for help,” you said, your gaze falling once again as Lando sighed, kissing your forehead.

“Then what am I here for, hm?” he tilted your chin up, “I’m supposed to help you, baby,” he kissed your jaw, trailing his lips up to your cheek, as you sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised again, letting him pull you into a hug, holding you til your sniffles died down, slowly rocking your back and forth. “Now what did you want from the shops?” he asked softly.

“Just some crisps or something,” you mumbled. “Yeah, alright,” he nodded, “but I’m taking this,” he pocketed your phone. “If you want to take it,” you shrugged, “I wanna come with you to the shops,”.

“Of course, baby,”.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando x reader #lando norris smut #f1

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cevansbrat0007 · 3 days ago

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Guessing Games: A Fast Car Interlude

Summary: You accidentally trigger Ari's jealous streak. Takes place directly after the events in Guessing Games.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Implied Future Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Jealous!Ari, Innocent Flirting, Stupid Men, Manhandling, Mentions of Spanking, Discussions of Self-Image, Mentions of Lingerie, Semi-Public Sex, Allusions to Fingering, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: After a shitty week, please enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“Hey. I know this car.” You think as you come to stand in front of a vehicle on display that happens to look strangely familiar. Smoothing your hands down the skirt of your sundress, you manage a quick side-step, narrowly avoiding a collision with a small child who was too busy enjoying his ice cream cone to pay attention to where he was going.

You’ve been wandering around Fulton County’s annual Classic Car Showcase for the better part of an hour now, and so far things were going better than you’d expected. And not only that, but you were even beginning to have fun.

“I can see why this one caught your eye.” A familiar voice muses as he comes up behind you.

“I’m trying to figure out where I’ve seen it before. But I’m drawing a blank.” Angling your body, you reach for one of Ari’s big hands, grasping it with both of yours. “Any ideas?”

“You really don’t recognize it?”

“‘Fraid not.” Your lips purse as you continue to wrack your brain.

“It’s an exact replica of The General Lee, the 1969 Dodge Charger driven by Bo and Luke.”

“Who?” You stare up at him confused.

That earns you a chuckle, followed by him placing a gentle kiss atop your head. “Bo and Luke. From The Dukes of Hazzard. It was a popular show back in the eighties.” He explains, brushing a stray curl away from your face.

“Oh. Got it.” You nod, pretending to understand. “Mystery solved.”

You both stand there a few moments longer – mostly so he can admire the engine, or whatever the hell you assumed he was doing. Once he’s looked his fill, it’s apparently time to move on to the next car that catches his interest. You’re seemingly content to trail behind him until you happen to spot a nearby cluster of tents.

“Ari?”

“Yeah, little Bird?” The rich timbre of his voice has you smiling before you even realize you’re doing it.

“I reckon all this car hoppin’ has me feelin’ a little parched.” You tell him, turning your attention to the concessions located just across the lot. “I’m gonna go fetch myself a lemonade real quick while the lines are short.”

As expected, your man responds without missing a beat. But not before leading you over to the shade so that you can continue your conversation. Which was a good thing seeing as the temperature outside was hovering around the mid-eighties.

“Well, we can’t have that now can we?” Mirroring your smile, he brings your hand to his lips so that he can kiss the ridges of your knuckles. “Let’s go get you somethin’ to drink.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll go while you hang out here in the shade.” Your palms come up to rest against the hard wall of his chest. “Besides,” you continue when he opens his mouth to object. “It’s not like I’m going far. I’ll just be right over there.”

“Nah.” Ari swiftly disagrees, adjusting his sunglasses. “How about you wait here while I go get us both something to drink?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.” He gently flicks the tip of your nose. “After all, what kinda man would I be if I left my sweetheart out here to melt?”

“I mean…if you insist.” Rising on your toes – a feat made easier thanks to your wedge heels – you plant a smooch on his bearded cheek. “Hurry back, sugar.”

Now that he’s officially a man on a mission, Ari wastes almost no time making a beeline for the concessions. But not before issuing a stern warning to you, his curious little Bird.

“Don’t you go wanderin’ off on me, darlin’.” He growls, leaning down to tenderly peck your lips . “I expect to find you right here in this spot when I come back.”

And then he’s gone. You barely have time to respond with a playful salute before he’s striding off in search of sustenance for you both. Leaving you alone to twiddle your thumbs while you dutifully await his return.

Not that you minded. If anything, grateful for this brief respite from the heat. It never crosses your mind to abandon your spot in favor of looking at more cars. At least, not until you spy one that has you gasping in pure delight.

“Woah.” You breathe as you come to stand in front of the one vehicle with the power to transport you straight back to your childhood: a 1958 Plymouth Fury.

Better known as the car from Stephen King’s novel, Christine.

You’d absolutely loved this movie as a kid. So much so that your Uncle had bought you your own personal copy after he got tired of renting it for you weekend after weekend. Why, you must’ve seen it over a hundred times.

But as luck would have it, your private glee is interrupted by the sound of a voice coming up behind you.

“She’s a beaut, ain’t she?” The man asks, his southern drawl growing even more inviting when he tips his black stetson. “Restored her myself.”

“Holy crap! It looks just like the one from the film.” You chirp, reaching out to run your fingers along the shiny finish before swiftly thinking better of it. “Sorry.” Is all you can manage as you turn to face him. “I just…never thought I’d get the chance to see it in person.”

“Well…” The dark haired cowboy admits, flashing a chagrined smile. “It’s not actually the car. But it’s pretty dang close. Took me a few years, seeing that pretty smile of yours makes it all worth it.” His smile only grows wider as he holds out his hand to you. “The name’s Russell, by the way.”

You two spend a few more moments exchanging names and pleasantries before he politely redirects the attention back to the prized vehicle in front of you. Russell invites you to ask all the questions you like, only to laugh when you eagerly take him up on his offer.

In fact, you’re enjoying the conversation so much that you hardly notice when he slowly begins inching closer to you, his leanly muscled frame almost boxing you in. He was charming – you’d give him that much. And easy on the eyes.

Russell was the type of man who warranted a second look. Or at least he would. That is, assuming you hadn’t already been blessed with the gift of Ari Daniel Levinson.

“You know,” He murmurs, his cool gaze warming as he boldly peruses your dress. “Something tells me this conversation would pair wonderfully with a glass of wine.” His hand reaches for yours once more. “Perhaps over dinner?”

“Oh, I’m sorry...” The shocked apology comes tumbling out of your mouth. “I–I can’t. I actually came with someone. He’s–”

“Look, I don’t wanna be too forward.” Russell smoothly interrupts, stroking his thumb along the ridge of your knuckles. “But I haven’t been able to let you out of my sight since I saw you damn near an hour ago. Honestly can’t remember the last time I came across a woman as sweet as you.”

“That’s awfully kind of you to say.” You reply, intending to let him down easy.

“I saw that fella you were with.” He continues in earnest, still refusing to relinquish his grip on your hand. “Also saw him walk off and abandon you too.”

“He didn’t – no one abandoned anybody!” Closing your eyes, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the entire situation. You weren’t used to men hitting on you like this. It has you feeling way out of your depth.

“Be that as it may, I also believe in fate.” His already gravelly voice dips an octave. “I mean, I’ve come to this showcase year after year and never once have I met someone like you.”

“I…I’m not sure I’d go that far.” You hedge as you weigh your options.

On one hand, you really did want to be polite. But you also needed to be firm. You already had a man in your life. A man who owned you – mind, body, and soul. Not that you’d had any say in the matter. But these days, you were well past complaining about the handsome Beast of a man you’d come to cherish.

“Think about it.” Your would-be suitor implores, giving you a gentle squeeze. “There has to be a reason our paths crossed today.”

Alright. It was officially time to put a nail in this coffin. You open your mouth to respond, only to have someone else beat you to the punch.

“I think it’s about time you let go of her hand.” Ari rumbles, the sound coming from somewhere deep in his chest. “Now.”

“Something I can help you with, buddy?” Russell responds without hesitation, clearly annoyed by the other man’s sudden reappearance. “Because the lady and I were in the middle of a conversation.”

“And I’m sure it was a great one.” Your bounty hunter is too busy glaring at his apparent rival to pay you any real mind. Although, he’s quick to shove a cup of what you suspect to be lemonade into your palm the second Russell releases his hold. “Too bad it’s over now. Let’s go, sweet Bird.”

The ice in his tone is enough to make you shiver. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Ari was none too happy to find you entertaining the company of another man. But the last thing you’d expected was for him to be jealous.

Unless you were reading things wrong.

“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait, fella.” Russell surprises everyone by coming to stand almost nose-to-nose with Ari. “Because she and I were about to take the ride out for a little spin.”

“We most certainly were not.” You try, impatiently tugging on his arm. “Ari, let’s just go.” Although, you’re not surprised when you end up being completely ignored.

“Oh yeah?”

“Guess that’s what happens when you abandon a pretty little flower like her all alone in an empty field.” Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Russelly makes a point of poking your man in his chest. “I’m just glad I was lucky enough to be here to catch your mistake.”

Worry fills you when you see Ari simply nod along, his brawny shoulders wrought with tension. Sucking on his teeth, the bounty hunter briefly looks away as he forces himself to take a calming breath. Not that it seems to help any.

“You know what? I get it. No, really–I do.” Ari smirks, reaching up to lightly scratch at his jaw. “I knew what I was getting into, walking into a showcase like this with a beautiful woman on my arm, wearin’ the hell out of that dress.” One thick arm wraps itself around your waist, hauling you close. “My girl turns heads everywhere she goes. She’s just too sweet to realize it.”

Tucking you behind him, your man bridges the last bit of distance between himself and Russell. And while you can’t see his face, you’re shocked when he gently lifts his rival’s hat from his head, before tossing it in the direction of his forgotten plymouth.

“And sometimes that sweetness makes cowboys do stupid fuckin’ things.” Ari continues, sounding almost smug. But you don’t miss the danger in his tone. “Which is why I’m gonna be the bigger man right now and walk away, before I give into the urge to find out if you have what it takes to make the long drive home with a fractured arm.”

“Alright, that’s enough from you two.” You snap, finally fed up with all this male posturing. After all this nonsense, you just wanted to sit down and enjoy your drink before all the ice melted. “Russell, cool car. But I’m not interested, okay? And as for you, Ari…”

In lieu of responding, your man chooses to quirk one impatient, tawny brow.

“You’re looking a little flushed. I think it’s time we got you outta the sun.” Grabbing his wrist, you proceed to physically drag him away from the scene. It takes virtually all your might, but you’re grateful when his legs finally begin to move.

You don’t stop walking until you reach a set of picnic tables that are far enough away from the show to give you both some much needed privacy while you hashed things out.

“Darlin’, I can tell by your face you’re fixin’ to yell.” Ari growls, yanking his arm out of your grasp. "And I'd like to make my case before you start." His frown only deepens as he watches you perch on the edge of a bench, but not before taking a dramatic sip of your ice cold lemonade.

It tastes divine – the perfect treat for a hot summer’s day.

“Did you really have to throw the poor man’s hat?” You ask, fanning yourself.

“Probably not. But it felt good.” He shrugs, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Should’ve stuffed his ass in the goddamned trunk while I was at it.”

“I don’t know what you think you saw, but I was in the process of letting him down easy.”

“Could’ve sworn I told your bratty self to stay put where I fuckin’ left you.” His normally clear blue eyes glitter dangerously, letting you know that he’s pissed. “I mean, it was bad enough waitin’ in line listening to two idiots talk about which one of ‘em was gonna be brave enough to ask for your number…”

“Yeah right.” You scoff, looking up at the sky as you pray for patience.

“Roll ‘em at me one more time, baby. Swear to God.” Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he finds himself wondering for the umpteenth time just what the hell he’d been thinking bringing you to something like this with you wearing a dress like that. “I’m just itchin’ for a reason to lift that skirt and redden your disrespectful ass.”

In Ari’s mind, you were always the prettiest girl in the room. But on a day like today? You were downright irresistible. And what made it even worse is that you honestly had no idea the effect you had sometimes – on him and damn near every other man who came into your presence.

“You can’t talk like that!” You hiss, hoping that you weren’t being overheard.

“And just why the hell not?”

“Because we’re in public, you Beast!”

Rising to your feet, you set your drink on the table, deciding it might be better if you put some distance between you. Too bad Ari chooses to follow, walking you backwards until you feel yourself collide with the base of a nearby tree. His hands come to rest on either side of your head, effectively caging you in with his much larger frame.

“I should’ve known what I was getting into the moment I decided to let you walk outta the house wearing that dress.” Ari rasps, trailing his nose along the delicate column of your throat. “I thought I was safe, even with that lacey little scrap of nothin’ you’ve got hidin’ underneath.”

You barely manage to stifle a moan when your man captures your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking hard before releasing it with a soft pop. One of his hands leaves its purchase to settle dangerously low on your hip.

“But I see now that’s not enough for you, is it baby?” You press your thighs together when that same hand moves once again. This time working it’s way under your skirt - his short, blunt nails dancing along your skin as his mouth hovers a mere centimeter above yours. “I’m not sure why you thought it might be a good idea to tease me like this. Not too keen on you flirting with other men.”

“I promise I wasn’t.” Your eyes flutter closed as he grinds his growing erection against the softness of your belly. “I just got excited about the car. It’s from one of my favorite Stephen King stories.”

“Is that why I found you two holdin’ hands?” You let out a whimper when you feel the roughened pads of his fingers dig into your heated flesh, making you squirm. “Because you were excited?”

It wasn’t often that your man got riled up like this. But when he did there was almost no getting through to him until he calmed down. If you were lucky, you could typically drag him to some place quiet, away from prying eyes and listening ears.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry, sugar.” Leaning up, you press a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “I suppose I wouldn’t like it either if I saw you holding hands with a random woman. Promise it won’t happen again.” You add, weaving your arms around his trim waist after all you receive is a grunt for your trouble.

Although you can’t help but notice that some of the tension seems to have finally left his shoulders.

“Thank you.”

Ari allows his forehead to rest against your own as he struggles to collect himself. Wanting more, you cup his face with your hands, bring his mouth down for a much needed kiss. His eager tongue dances with yours, demanding more of your submission as the passion builds.

You’re both breathing hard when you finally come up for air. However, you realize your man’s not done. At least not yet.

“You’re enough to drive a man insane. You know that?” He groans in between soft, yet feral kisses. “I swear I try to be progressive – I do. I got sisters. A niece.” A sound almost like a purr rumbles in his chest as he nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck. “But I’m also man enough to admit I’ve got a bit of a jealous streak. Never was much of a problem until I met you.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” You murmur at the same time as your pussy spasms, dampening your panties with your slick.

“Good.” Ari lifts your leg, hitching it around his waist and not giving a damn about who sees. “And Bird?”

“Uh huh?” A shiver courses through you as he begins covering your exposed flesh with tiny, possessive love bites. This time you make no move to stop him. Thank goodness you’d had the foresight to pack some concealer.

“I hate to break it to you.” His mouth finds yours once more, deliberately teasing you with each sensual stroke and flick of his tongue. “But you and me, we’re not gonna make it back to Bell’s Creek tonight.”

“And w–why is that?” Your eyes threaten to roll back in your head as his fingers find your clit, toying with the swollen nub through the soaked fabric of your panties.

“Because I’m having the damnedest time trying to talk myself out of fucking you hard and fast on the hood of my truck.” He responds with an unapologetic shrug. “But I suppose I’ll just have to settle for a hotel, huh?” Grinning, he increases the pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves, loving the way you buck and writhe beneath his touch.

“I’ll start hunting for reservations.” You move to reach for your phone even as you feel your vision blur and your toe s curl. “But whatever you do…oh God…just please don’t stop.”’

END

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zyafics-recs · 3 days ago

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reblogging comment review from @zyafics

first and foremost, the color scheme for this series is GORGEOUS, the purple pairs well with the angst of the series and i’m so ready for it (also so proud that u learned how to get the gradient function!! ☺️)

secondly, how DARE u not tag me i am flabbergasted, heartbroken, overlooking the golden gate bridge rn

ANYWAYS, i have seven minutes before lecture starts so here’s my lousy and incoherent annotations below ⬇️

You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.

i’m so ready to see how toxic this can get

You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.

love a reader who knows what she wants and goes after it

You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.

oh god

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

my stomach is doing flips

She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

i would need a gun

He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.

i would crash out so hard rn

After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?

SICKENING

Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. Nome of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.

i support women’s wrong to do mass destruction

With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.

THIS IS MAKING ME UNBELIEVABLY SICK

You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.

this paragraph is so beautifully-crafted i had to highlight it - okay back to our regularly scheduled program

A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.

TOXICITY’S FINEST COUPLE

You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.

exactly he’s YOURS (mine…?)

His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”

you fucking NARC

“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.

she’s so me

“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.

oh my god i fear i need her to do the best revenge arc

The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.

again, i’m always in awe of ur descriptions it makes me so giggly and excited to see how well u constructed ur setting

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

should’ve bought a glock w those pregnancy tests - i would start TWEAKING so hard

💌 — this fic is BEAUTIFUL (ohmygod my professor arrived, let me make this QUICK) i absolutely love how u created this atmosphere of anger, resentment, desperation and neediness. because u captured the angst incredibly well, and how u built up to it—the aches, the emotions—were well-paced and made you feel everything on a deeper, more slowburn way. i also LOVE how the interconnectedness of how topper and rafe are best friends, and she’s his COUSIN, and how this man SNITCHED to rafe when she was driving away. i love-hate that scene bc it builds so much more tension, but i would be fucking pissed at topper. lastly, as always your descriptions are one of my favorite parts of your writing and i highlighted them for my annotations. so so PROUD of u for starting this series and i will make u complete even if its the last thing i do 🔪

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst)

The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.

It had been a long month.

Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.

But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.

Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.

You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing

You weren’t stupid.

But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.

"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.

You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.

What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.

“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”

You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.

“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.

And then you heard hers. No fucking way.

She was there, with him.

You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.

There they were.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

You froze.

You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?

Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.

It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.

That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.

Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.

What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.

But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.

“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.

Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"

You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”

He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”

You hated saying her name.

Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.

Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.

“Did everyone fucking know?”

Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”

Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.

You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”

He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”

But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.

Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”

That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.

You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.

He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.

The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.

How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?

Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?

All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."

You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.

But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.

And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?

But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.

Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.

You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.

Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."

The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.

But then…

You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.

Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.

You hadn’t had your period in… so long.

Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.

You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."

How could you not have noticed?

Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"

You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.

You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.

“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.

He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.

Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.

"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.

You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”

He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.

You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."

The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.

Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.

You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.

Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.

You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.

“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”

“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.

You just needed to get out of here.

“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”

Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.

And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.

Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.

While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.

You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.

You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.

You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.

The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.

You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.

You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.

The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?

You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.

You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.

You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.

You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.

Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?

Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?

It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.

You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.

The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.

You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.

This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.

You were tired.

Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.

Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.

Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.

Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.

All of this would go away.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei @stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron (by @itneverendshere)

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http-shield · 2 days ago

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Bucky is high-key appalled by the lack of chivalry and politeness exhibited by the men of the twenty first century. Can't fathom that men ignore women on the train or bus who need seats, that doors aren't being opened for women, seats aren't being pulled out, space isn't made for women as they pass packs of men on the sidewalk. There are many things in this new age world that Bucky can't wrap his head around, but the disregard for women is something he'll never understand, so he opens doors for ladies if they are both going in the same building, vacates seats when there is a woman around in need of space. He can't help it, having grown up in a world entirely different to the one he is now. It is second nature and comes as quickly as breathing, but it stuns you a little the first time you get treated like that. You swoon at the fact Bucky holds the door for you, lets you pass before him, makes sure you walk on the safer side of the pavement, holds your hand when you cross the road, makes sure you get the food and drinks first, offers to drive and pay for date nights, the list is endless. Still, for once in your adult dating life, you don't question the sincerity of his words as they are backed up by actions.

"Did something happen to men while I was gone?" Bucky's confused voice floats down the hall of your apartment as he strides in, kicking his shoes off and placing them neatly on the rack by the bathroom door.

"What do you mean?" You look up from your spot on the couch, laptop sitting on your raised legs. "Like, did they go extinct and come back?"

Bucky reaches the living room and shucks off his jacket and gloves to hang over the chair before coming to the couch and plopping beside you. A soft kiss is pressed to your cheek, stubble grazing your skin as he mumbles a greeting before settling into the plush sofa.

"I mean, did they lose all manners?" he shakes his head in disbelief, hands splaying out in frustrated emphasis. "Do men not open doors for women? Or move out of the way for them on the side walk?"

You close the laptop and stow it away on the small shelf of the coffee table, no longer focusing on the information packets Tony had sent you early this morning.

"What happened?" You ask, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, enjoying how he melts into your touch.

"I just watched a bucnh'a men in suits practically push a woman out of the way to get through the door." he sighs, clearly exasperated at the lack of respect for other humans. "And then they didn't even hold the door for her! They just let it swing closed. How do they act on dates? I doubt they pay."

You hum, letting his rant continue.

"And I was on the line."

"Online." you correct gently, spiking his hair up with your fingers, the shorter strands finally obeying you.

"I was online," he rectifies. "and I saw this video of a woman talking about a man getting angry that she wasn't gonna go home with him after the first date."

"Please tell me that never happened to you." His attention shifts to you now, genuine distress simmering in his blue eyes, and when you don't answer, he becomes distraught.

"Doll, no," Bucky shakes his head as if you confessed to the murder of his beloved stuffed animal. "Come on, you gotta be joking."

"It was years ago! I was young and stupid and didn't know my worth." You shrug, obviously not as upset as your counterpart. “I've learnt my lesson. I know I am worth at least two dinners now." The joke falls flat as Bucky stares, not amused.

"It's a joke, Buck."

"I know, but I don't like it." He grumbles, folding his arms across his chest like a child. "Don't like that you were treated like that."

"Well, good thing I've got you now, huh?" you abandon his hair, stroking the back of your fingers over his stubbly cheek.

Bucky pouts. "Still don't like it. You deserved better."

You kiss his cheek, feeling his cheeks round as he smiles. "You're too good to me, Mr. Barnes." another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Even if we did sleep together on the first date."

"Hey! That wasn't the same. We knew each other before that." Bucky protests as you stand from the couch, walking to the kitchen to start on dinner. "At least I paid!"

#http shield ♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ౨ৎ ‧₊ .ᐟ #✮⋆˙ bucky barnes #draft dump #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky fanfic

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justmeinadaze · 2 days ago

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November Rain (Boxer!Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)

A/N: I dreamed about this idea and my time of the month fueled it.

Please Enjoy <3

Warnings: Older (Early to Mid 30s) Dominate Boxer Eddie X Plus Size Fem younger (early to mid 20s) sub Y/N, SMUT, Daddy kink (because Im me), light spanking, big dick Eddie Munson :P, etc.

ANGST, reader meets the boxer while on a date with someone else, mentions of pain from the ring but nothing too dramatic, reader and Eddie mentions just getting out of relationships, nothing negative is mentioned about Y/N size <3. All positive and Eddie thinks she's perfect :). CLIFFHANGER ENDING 😈

Word Count: 4753

Other Eddie Stories here/ Donate to Me

"When I look into your eyes

I can see a love restrained

But darlin' when I hold you

Don't you know I feel the same?"

“Paige, I hate you. This guy is the worst.”

“Oh, he’s not that bad! Lol. Where did he take you?”

“A boxing match.”

“NO! Lol. Oh my god. I hate boxing and how the fuck are you supposed to talk there?”

“He’s taking me to a bar after.”

“Text me when you get home so I know you’re not dead :P.”

“Love you to, dork.”

“Who are you talking to?”, your blind date asks as he lightly nudges you with his shoulder.

“Paige. I’m just telling her how nice you are and that you haven’t murdered me yet.”

“Ha! Well, the night’s still young.”, he laughed causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion, not out of fear but annoyance that he thought that was the appropriate thing to say to someone he only met an hour ago.

When your friend and roommate suggested you go on this blind date you originally declined. You had just gotten out of a 2-year relationship and wasn’t in the mood to dive back in. After a couple of lonely (and needy) nights, you changed your tune.

She insisted he was a nice guy she knew from work and he absolutely was but it didn’t overshadow his awkward personality. When he suggested coming to a boxing match, you were actually intrigued thinking it was an out of the box idea instead of going to the movies or dinner. As the small arena began to fill, you found yourself more fascinated by the people around you casually talking about one of the fighters.

Eddie Munson was a “veteran” in the field, being a bit older than most boxers in the ring. He had won multiple matches but for whatever reason managers and venues didn’t take him seriously. The kid he was fighting had many accolades and higher stats but his wins matched his opponents from the pamphlet you skimmed through while you two waited.

As the lights lowered and both men were introduced into the ring, you couldn’t help but focus on the older boxer. He was extremely handsome with his sharp jaw and intense, piercing eyes that commanded attention. His chest and muscular arms were littered with tattoos that accented his physique perfectly.

With all the cheering and commotion around the ring, you were surprised when his eyes landed on you. He tried to look away but you noticed his gaze kept lingering back to where you were sitting. Trying not to appear intimidated, you smirked his way and leaned back in your seat where your date’s arm was strewn along the back. The boxer slowly took you in, scanning along the short sleeve black dress that clung tightly to your busty chest and large curves. Your high heeled shoe absently tapped the air as he glanced down your legs and back up to your face.

Someone you assumed was his coach, tapped his shoulder and forced him to focus as he screamed instruction into his ear. Rising to his feet, the person took his robe before he headed for the middle of the ring. On his short stride, his gaze shifted towards you again making your smile grow as you silently mouth the words “Good Luck.”

Eddie jumps slightly as the announcer’s voice flows loudly near him startling him as you giggle and he shakes his head.

***

“Yeah so I do contracting at this firm and it’s so stupid but…”

You don’t know if your date notices but your eyes had begun to glaze over as he spoke. Your date seemed like a nice enough guy but was definitely not your cup of tea. The one thing you feared about dating again was mundane shit that came with casual conversation. You always wished you could skip over this part and get to the moment where you were comfortable again.

“I feel like I’m droning on and on. Tell me about you.”

“Oh…um…there’s not much to tell really.”

“Of course there is. Tell me about your job, your family, everything!”, he chuckles a bit too enthusiastically as you try to hide your cringe behind your smile.

“Excuse me, miss. Telephone for you.”, the bartender interrupts as he points at his phone near the end of the counter.

“Oh, thank you. Excuse me.”

After hopping down from your stool, you make your way to the telephone and put it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“I thought maybe I’d give you a minute of peace from chatty Cathy.”, the smooth voice on the other end laughs.

“Hm. How do you know I wasn’t enjoying the chat?”, you ask as your eyes fleet around the bar.

“Well first off, you were way too eager to get away. I mean you didn’t even ask who was calling. Add in the fact that your face is worth a thousand words, sweetheart.”

It takes you another few seconds before you find your mystery caller leaning against the wall by the front door on his cell phone. The long-haired boxer’s grin grew when your eyes met his as his subtly waved his fingers in your direction.

“Wanna get out of here?”

“I’m in the middle of date. I can’t just leave.”, you tease knowing full well you’d let him kidnap you if that meant leaving this date behind.

“There’s only so long you can keep up this rouse before he starts getting suspicious so I would make a decision quickly.”

“Pfft, his brain doesn’t move that fast.”

The man’s laugh echoed into your ear straight to your heart as you blushed, glad that you had the ability to make someone laugh like he just had.

“Honey, a woman as beautiful as you in that sexy dress shouldn’t be bored out of her mind. She should be having her mind blown.”

“And you’re the man to do that?”

“I’d like to try if you give me the chance. I have a feeling you’re not easy to please like all these other giggly girls and I like a challenge.”

“Smooth, Mr. Munson.”, you giggle.

“Ah, so you were there to see me fight.”

“No, sir. It was just a happy accident.”

“Ooooo sir. I like that. You can just call me Eddie for right now though.”

“I prefer the term Daddy.”

It was no longer subtle that the two of you were staring at each other from across the bar. His breathing stutter slightly and you bit your bottom lip to force them to remain still even though you wanted to smirk his way.

“Y/N? Everything alright?”, your date asked as he placed himself in the chair next to where you were standing.

“Y/N.”, Eddie repeated as if he was trying to familiarize himself with your name. When you didn’t reply, your date’s palm reaches out to slide down your arm and take your hand in his. “I’m counting every second he touches you. That’s how many times I’m going spank you for allowing it.”

A tear runs down your cheek and you see regret flash through his eyes, worried he may have gone too far before he sees you hang up the phone and pull your hand from your date’s grasp.

“I have to go. My brother was in-in an accident.”, you cry as you make a beeline to where the boxer was standing near the coat check desk. “Excuse me.”, you murmur as your arm brushes chest, the contact sending a little electricity through you both.

“No problem.”, he mumbles as he turns to leave, making sure the back of his hand grazes yours as he does.

“Do you want me to drive you—”

“No, no its ok. My sister lives close by so she’s going to pick me up. She’s the one that called.”

“Ok, well, let me at least wait with you.”

“Alright. You pay and I’ll wait outside.”

After he nods, you sprint outside to find Eddie sitting on a motorcycle offering you a helmet.

“Really?”, you sass as you take it from his hand and slide it onto your head.

“Psh like you don’t like it.”

Revving the engine, you cling to his waist as he drives off into the night.

***

Your eyebrow raises as pulls up to a gym and sifts through his pockets to search for his keys.

“Yeah, um, welcome to my humble abode for the time being.”

“You live in a gym?”

“I live in the back of a gym. Big difference.”

“Oh absolutely.”, you jest as you allow him to lead you inside. “I would figure with how good of a fighter you are, you’d have Rocky 4 levels of riches.”

Again, he cackles as he throws his head back and in that moment, you started to realize you would do anything to continue hearing that sound.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone from your generation mention such an old movie.”

“It’s not that old and neither are you.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet.”, he smiles as he opens another door in the back and gestures you inside. “I kind of started boxing a bit late in the game compared to everyone else around me. Some of these kids have been doing it their whole lives and I only started training 10 years ago.”

As you take in his little room, Eddie heads to his mini fridge to grab a couple of beers. You could tell, he hadn’t been here long, living out of a suitcase for the time being.

“How long are you stuck here?”

“I actually just got an apartment so I move in, in about a month.”

“What happened to your last place?”

Eddie smiles as he hands you one of the bottles in his hand.

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m inquisitive.”, you smirk back as tilt the beer to clink with his before taking a sip. “I need to know if this is where you take your hookups to hide from your wife.”

“What makes you think I’m married?”

“Huh.”, you muse as you take a seat on his couch/bed. “Most men would immediately deny. ‘Oh, no, baby! I’m not married. I swear.’”

The boxer rushes forward as you speak to hastily move his sheets and pillow on to another chair before taking a seat beside you.

“I’m, um, no I’m not married.”, he chuckles nervously. “Full transparency, I actually just got out of relationship so if I seem…awkward…that’s why.”

“I think you’re doing alright.”, you smile as you turn to face him getting more comfortable and he does the same. “Better than chatty Cathy.”

Again, he laughs and again you swoon.

“If it makes you feel better I just got out of a two-year relationship myself.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. How long has it been?”

“A few months.”

“Geez and you’re already dating?” When you don’t laugh like he does, Eddie panics as you sip your beverage. “No, that came out wrong. I just meant that you’re doing better than me. It’s been a year since I’ve even seen my ex and dating hadn’t even crossed my mind. Fuck, I sound like an idiot.”

Your giggle pierces his heart and he melts in relief.

“No, you don’t. May I ask what made you find the confidence to ask me over?”

“I saw you from the ring and thought you were a fucking angel I’d never see again. When I walked into the bar and saw you, I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity slip away.”

“Wow. Smooth again, Mr. Munson.”

“I thought you preferred Daddy.” You blushed as your head dipped, trying to hide your eyes but his callused fingers quickly reached out to grab your chin forcing you to look at him again. “This…This goes without saying but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can just talk or—”

Your lips on his interrupted his gentlemanly speech before tilting back slightly so your mouth wasn’t far but you could still see his face.

“Do I make you nervous, Daddy?”

“Fuuuuuuuck.”, Eddie whispers as both palms cup your cheeks. “I don’t want t-to disappoint you.”

Slowly, you crawl over him till your straddling his lap and take hold of his hands to guide them to your wide hips.

“You won’t, baby, but if this isn’t something you’re into—”

“No, no, no. I’m into it.”, he rushes making you giggle as his face flushes with embarrassment at his earnestness. “My ex wasn’t… she tried for me a couple of times but...”

“You never really fully got to take control?”

“I told you it’s been a while since I’ve dated but it’s been even longer since I was able to be Daddy.”

“Sounds lonely.” His head tilts to the side at your statement as his brows furrow. “People don’t understand it but when I’m in my little girl headspace I feel safe when I’m with the right partner. It’s natural for me sometimes when I’m intimate to slip into that mode and if I was with someone who couldn’t satisfy that… I would feel lonely…like I did something wrong.”

When your eyes meet his again, Eddie’s smiling up at you with a softness you appreciate.

“Thank you for coming to my TED talk.”

His body shakes as he laughs and you feel the energy in the room lighten.

Comfortable.

Bringing your lips to his, he reciprocates with more confidence.

“Take your time and ease back into it.”, you whisper.

You continue to grind against him as you murmur soft words in his ear and his hands roam your back. Gripping the bottom of your dress, he lifts it up your body and groans as his eyes hungrily take you in.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” Smirking, you slide off him, your eyes never leaving his as you remove your panties and toss them at his chest. “Leave your shoes on and crawl to Daddy, baby.”

Your pussy clenches at his words, his confidence in the title starting to return. Sinking to your knees, you do as he says making him groan as he unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants to his ankles allowing his cock to spring free.

As he spits into his hand and strokes himself, you pause.

“Jesus. You’re so fucking big.”

“Hey.”, Eddie growls causing your head to snap at attention. “Watch your mouth.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ve just…” You continue to crawl forward till your hands balance on his knees. “…never had a dick as big as yours inside me. I-I don’t know if it will fit.”

“Shit. It’ll fit, pretty girl. We’ll make it fit. You just have to get it nice and wet.”

After nodding in agreement, he hisses as your hand wraps around him and the tip of your tongue darts out to lick the little beads of precum that had begun to leak out.

“Goddamn it, Y/N.”

Opening your mouth wide, you test the waters and bob your head taking half of him as you allow your tongue to swirl around his head along his slit.

“T-That’s it, baby.”, Eddie pants as he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail to get a better look at you’re doing. “Good girl. Your mouth feels so…so good. Try and take more, sweetheart.”

You do as he asks and promptly gag as your throat constricts around him.

“Fuck! That’s it. Take it, baby. Choke on Daddy’s cock. Let m-me help.” Holding you tightly, you allow him to use you as he thrusts his hips and his dick hits the back of your throat. “There we go. Mouth open, flat tongue. So fucking beautiful taking my dick like this.”

Tears spill, smearing your make up as he lets you go and you take in big gulps of air. Grasping your cheeks, he kisses your lips as his thumbs wipe away the stains under your eyes.

“Such a good girl… so good for me. I should have asked but do you have a safe word? Is Red still a good one?”

Eddie smiles as you breathily laugh and give him a peck before climbing up his lap to straddle him again.

“Red is still good.”

“Turn around, sweetheart.”

After doing what he says, your whole body melts into his slightly sweaty chest as his arms wrap around you. Gripping the base of his shaft, you shutter as he slides his cock between your folds, teasing your clit with his tip.

“You’re so wet, little girl, fuck. Are you ready for Daddy, baby?”

“Yes. Please.” Lifting your hips to help guide him, the boxer begins to gradually push himself inside of you. “Oh…f-fuck…”

“Are you ok?”, he whispers in your ear as you fully fall back against him.

“Yeah, yeah. It…feels so good…so big. Mmnah!”, you whine as he slowly thrusts in another inch stretching you open.

“You’re doing so good for me, Y/N. Take your time. We have all night, honey.”

Your half lidded eyes watch as he runs his tongue along his fingers before bringing them down to massage circles against your clit, feeling your pussy flutter and allowing him more leeway as you both groan feeling your lap finally connect with his.

“You’re—mmph—so fucking tight.”

Experimentally, you roll your hips and the moan that leaves his lips has your eyes rolling as you do it again. You know his fingers gripping your love handles will leave bruises as he starts to guide you but you don’t care as you suck hickies into his neck, smiling at the vibration as he groans.

“Bounce, pretty girl. Fuck me hard.”

Balancing your hands on his knees, your head lulls forward as you bounce on top of him, mewling repetitive ahs as he slams into that sensitive spot inside you. His palm comes down hard on your ass as he continues to knead his fingers into the plump flesh.

“God, I can’t get over how fucking sexy you are. Cum for Daddy, sweetheart. Make—fuck—make yourself cum on my cock.”

Falling back against him, his wide lust filled eyes watch as one of your arms comes around to cling to the back of his neck as your other brings your hand to massage your breast. Eddie had never met a woman like you before and was pretty sure he would never meet again.

Even with his ex, she used to be pretty open minded but never seemed to carry the kind of confidence you did. He knew when he saw you from the ring that you were different but he had promised himself he would focus on his career for the time being before jumping into anything new relationship wise.

But how could he let you walk out that door tomorrow morning and let you go?

Your body trembled against him and he grunted as your cunt gripped his cock as you came. You rode out your high and the feeling made him almost feral as he picked you up to move you both the floor.

With his hand firmly holding the back of your neck smushing your cheek into the floor, Eddie thrust into you with rough abandon as you fell apart beneath him.

“Oh my Goooooood. So fucking deep.”

Twisting his hand to curl his fingers in your hair, he yanked you closer to his chest and slowed his pace but not his intensity as his skin slapped obscenely into yours.

“Does my dick feel good, sweetheart?”

“Yeeeeesss—mmmah!”

“Tell me. Tell Daddy how much this tight little pussy loves my cock.”

“Y-Your cock feels so good, Daddy. My pussy was made for you.” As you spoke, his forehead rested against your cheek as his eyes shut and he found his rhythm again. “I want to feel you cum inside me, baby please.”

His eyes snapped open as he scanned your face realizing immediately you were telling the truth.

“Don’t—Don’t say shit like that, little girl, unless you mean it.”

“P-P-Please, Daddy. I promise I’m safe. I need you to fill me up. I need to feel how good my pussy made you feel.”

“Goddamn it.”, Eddie grunted, pulling out and aggressively flipping you over onto your back before guiding himself back inside you.

Your legs promptly wrapped around his waist and he pounded into you knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Just like that, Daddy. I’m—fuck—M’gonna cum again. Cum with me.”

Balancing on his palms, his chocolate irises took in all of your beautiful features as they contorted in pleasure. It had been so long since he made a woman feel this good and he desperately wanted to please you. Your palms massaged along his slightly sore arms and his chest, gliding effortlessly over his bruises that were beginning to form from his fight earlier that night.

None of that mattered.

Every ache and pain he carried from the ring, disappeared as soon as you touched him and all he could focus on was the warmth that was you.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want.”

Circling your arms around him, you pulled him against your body, needing to absorb him as he rolled his hips, grunting in your ear till you felt his release warm you deeper than any man you had before. The whine Eddie made as his fingers clung to your hair was enough to have the coil snap for the final time that night as your pussy tried to milk everything he had to give.

You both laid there together silently intertwined for a good long while as you tried to catch your breaths.

“Are you ok?”, you whisper.

Pushing up onto his elbows, his hand moves some stray hairs away from your sweaty face as he softly smiles down at you.

“Yeah, baby, I’m good. Are you alright?”

“Yeah, a little sore.”, you answer as your eyes gesture between your bodies.

“Shit, ok, um, I’ll go slow. Ready?” When you nodded, as gently as he could, he pulled out of your aching cunt, cooing praise at you as you winced. “Good. Good girl. We, um, I don’t have a shower in here but there are locker rooms with showers if you want or we can stay here of course.”

“I’d like to shower, please.”

The way you said please told him you were still coming down from that headspace causing your words to echo in his brain about how lonely it can be being stuck there and not being taken care of properly.

Rising to his feet, he hastily helped you to yours before taking you in his arms and caring you to the locker room.

“Thank you. I’m not too heavy?”

“Not at all, princess.”

You watch his face as he turns on the water and makes cute little faces as the cold water hits his hand first before steaming up the area. As he cleaned your skin, his tongue poked out the side of his mouth making a little giggle fall from yours.

“What are you laughing at?”

“You.”, you smile. “You’re just really adorable.”

“Thank you? I think.”, he grins as he comes up to kiss your forehead.

After you’re both clean and back in his room, he pulls out the couch to turn it into a bed and places you on it before you notice him pause.

“I, um, I just assumed you’d be falling asleep here. I’m sorry. Did…did you need to get home?”

“Um…” You meant what you said when it came to relationships. You weren’t ready to jump into a new one and when you let him bring you home you told yourself this was just going to be a onetime thing but you couldn’t deny there was something about this man that made you feel safe. Maybe you could just take things slow and see where it led. “No, I can stay.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned down to kiss your lips. Throwing one his shirts over your frame, you laughed as he pulled on his boxers and obnoxiously jumped into bed.

With your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you, the two of you talked till the sun slowly began to rise outside his window.

##################

“I thought you were dead!”, Paige shouted as she lightly pushed your arm before getting up to hug you when she saw you walk into the restaurant you two were supposed to be meeting at. “You didn’t text me or anything and when I woke up you weren’t home.”

“I know! I’m so sorry. I got caught up with someone…”, you grin as your eyes bashfully meet hers.

“Oh, tell me everything.”

The two of you giggle as you regale her with the story of the previous night’s events as you swoon over the older boxer you met.

“Ugh, well I’m glad something good came from boxing.”, she sassed, sticking out her tongue for emphasis.

“Good lord, what is it with you and boxing? Were you once a fighter who lost her dream when another fighter broke your neck?”

“No, you movie nerd.”, she laughs. “My dad’s a boxer. I mean I guess you can call him that. He’s a mechanic but decided randomly to start training to fight.”

“Your dad the deadbeat?”

“Yeah. He went training 24/7 and it killed my mother. They stopped spending time together and when they were together they fought constantly. One day a few months ago, he was just gone and next thing I know they are getting a divorce.”

“I’m so sorry, Paige. I know how hard divorce is on a family.”

“He’s supposed to meet me today to get some more of his things. He doesn’t have a place right now and begged my mom to hold his stuff till he found something. I guess he’s won a good amount of matches because he told her the other day he’d saved enough money to finally move. My mom refuses to see him so I’m the messenger I guess.”

“Do you want me to lag behind so I can be your reason to leave? ‘Oh here’s my roommate. We have to go.’”, you joke.

“My saint. Would you please? Op, speak of the goddamn devil.”, she sighs as she flashes you her phone screen. “I’ll meet you outside.”

As she walks outside, you hurry to pay so she’s not alone for too long. Paige was a wonderful roommate and an even better friend. When you met her, you had just had your breakup and nowhere to go. She was sympathetic to your plight and helped you at your absolutely lowest. She got you get back on your feet and now after meeting Eddie, maybe things were finally on the right track again.

“You don’t have to do this, sweetheart. I can drive down there and get my things myself. She shouldn’t be asking you to be the ‘middleman’. This is between me and your mother.”

“I don’t mind doing it after what you did to her. Imagine how she’d feel if you showed up covered in hickeys. Hide that shit better.”, Paige shouted as she slammed her trunk closed and her father lifted the collar of his jacket. “Whatever doesn’t fucking matter. All that matters to you now is yourself and your dreams, you fucking asshole.”

“Paige, please. Can we just talk so I can explain some things—”

“No, we can’t. My roommates here and we need to go home. Right, Y/N?”, she growls as she turns to face you.

Your eyes widen as you come face to face with Paige’s “deadbeat” father. Eddie seems equally as surprised as his jaw falls open.

“Th-This is the girl you moved in with?”, he whispered.

“What do you care? She’s my friend and mom loves her. Come on, Y/N.”

As your roommate, grips your arm and pulls you to her car, you struggle to take your eyes off the older man as his own irises sullenly follow.

Of course. How could I be so stupid to think things would get better? I should have refused the blind like I wanted to. If I had this would never have happened. I’m a fucking idiot.

As Eddie watches his daughter speed away with the angel he met last night, he pulled the piece of paper you left by his nightstand with your phone number and a note saying you needed to meet your roommate for lunch but you would talk to him later.

His heart fell into his stomach as the notion ran through his head that you may never want to speak with him again.

################

@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @micheledawn1975 @hardladyheart @chelebelletx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paleidiot

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luvyeni · 23 hours ago

Text

⠀ ( drabble ) mines, all mines ̨ ! ୨୧ 一黄仁俊 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ renjun is super affectionate with you , but he’s also jealous of haechan calling you pretty ヾ

boyfriend!renjun・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ unprotected sex, jealous ‎ renjun, dirty talk wc ・ ‎0.5k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. dream being confused when jealous!renjun is affectionate and teases him for touchin u up when he doesnt do it with them so he fucks u for letting his friends flirt with u and stuff 😩‼️

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it <3 !!!

“baby.” renjun pulled you into his lap for like the fifth time that day. “baby i miss you.” you chuckled, running your fingers through his hair. “jun i’ve been here with you all day.” you smiled kissing the top of your man’s head.

“ew oh my god.” haechan said, fake gagging on your couch. “get a room, no one wants to see you two be all lovey dovey.” you rolled your eyes, renjun mumbled a bunch of insults under his breath. “you’re in my girlfriends apartment, i will touch her as much as i want, you get out.” he snapped, wrapping his arms around your waist. “jun stop.” you calmed him down.

“you know yn you have to be one of the luckiest girls in the world.” jaemin said. “really? why is that?” you questioned. “because you’re the only person in this room who’s ever had the joy of renjun affection.” you chuckled, your boyfriend on the other hand wasn’t amused. “shut up jaemin.”

“hey all im saying is you’ve never held us like that.” the boy held his hands up in defense. “because you aren’t fucking him thats why.” jeno said. “a pretty girl like yn, yeah i’d make sure to give her all my attention.” now you knew haechan didn’t mean any harm, but this seemed to piss renjun off. “hyuck, shut the fuck up.” you rubbed his shoulders to calm him down. “be calm im just saying you’re lucky to have a pretty girlfriend.” renjun knew you would never give him the time a day — but the way you smiled at the comment just made him mad.

“alright it’s time to go guys.” you could tell they were riling the boy up. “what? it’s still 15 minutes of the game left.” mark said, they all whined, complaining. “yeah, but if you guys keep going none of us will make it to the end.” they all groaned, getting up. “i know, i know.” you said guiding them to the door. “next week bring duct tape for hyucks mouth.” chenle spoke up. “next time we won’t fucking bring him.” you laughed. “is it a crime to call a pretty girl pretty?” you shook your head. “when her boyfriend is sitting right there?” jisung said. “yes.”

you closed the door on them; ready to turn to clean up their mess — instead you were met with your boyfriend. “jun?” he was standing there, and you could tell he wasn’t happy. “don’t be upset.” you tried to reason with him, but you could tell in his eyes he was already there, which made your stomach bubble with excitement. “bedroom. now.” you already knew what that meant.

“you think it’s funny?” he had your cheek pressed against your pillow. “wh-what junie?” he slapped your ass making you yelp. “don’t play fucking stupid.” he snapped. “smiling at haechan basically flirting with you, smiling like you’re so desperate to be fucked by him or something.”

“n-not true.” you stuttered out. “is it? cause you’re soaked, thinking about him fucking you?” the feeling of your boyfriend's cock teasing your hole. “no!” you said. “jun please fuck me.” you desperately pleaded with him to fill you with his cock. “please.”

you gasped feeling him enter you— making you take him fully. “shit.” he hissed, gripping your hips. “yeah , fuck he can’t fuck you like this.” he groaned , his cock dragging along your walls , bullying your gspot. “he can’t fuck you like the whore you are.” you moaned. “o-only for you.”

“fuck. that’s right, this pussy is only mine to fuck.” he groaned. “no one will ever be able to fuck you like i can.” you moaned out, his hand coming up to your hair, yanking it back. “understand me?” he gritted in your ear. “fuck jun yes!” you squealed , clenching around him. “fuck im not gonna last.”

his balls slapped against your clit , his head thrown back as he fucked into you. “fuck im gonna cum.” he moaned. “cum with me.” he demanded. “cum.” your head fell against the bed, body convulsing as you came. “shit.” he slammed into you, a song of curse words flowing from his mouth, his stomach tightening as he came. “oooh shit.” he dragged out as he painted your insides white, his body slumped over yours as you both searched for air , coming down from your blissful highs, kissing your neck down to your shoulders. “mines, mines, mines.” he repeated into your ear softly.

“you’re all mines.”

©️LUVYENI

#nct drabbles #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #nct smut #nct x female reader #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream hard thoughts #nct dream hard hours #huang renjun smut #huang renjun x reader #renjun x reader #renjun hard thoughts #renjun hard hours #renjun smut

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justhereforsomethingnice · 1 day ago

Text

“Great, welcome mr. Wayne.” Danny sighed when a man who introduced himself as Bruce Wayne entered the shop. “So happy you could make it. I’m Danny, I’ll be doing your reading today.” God, one ounce of energy less in his words and he wouldn’t be only dead on the inside anymore.

The man beamed at him. “Amazing to meet you Danny. Say, I’ve never seen you here before, are you new?” The man asked jovially.

Danny grimaced. “Yep, now please follow me.” He was going to get so nauseas from those damn fumes back there, he just knows it. With how shit had been going, he’s going to throw up that one sip of milkshake he managed before yesterdays disaster on those fancy ass shoes. And that man couldn’t stop smiling and touching every damn little trinket on his way to the back.

“And what is this,” Wayne asked holding up a shiny trinket, immediately dropping it and picking up the next one, “fascinating, and this? Is this a spell book, how peculiar.” Danny was going to add another shade to the collection here.

He finally reached the room. “Sit down over there please mr. Wayne. Now, what exactly did you want to achieve when coming here?” He asked. The only thing miss. Claire told him to actually do before the reading.

The man actually seemed to become bashful at that, a bit nervous. He wrung his hands before rubbing one of his hands over the opposite wrist. “I was actually hoping to talk to some resently deceased people. A friend of mine died and but was very fond of this shop you see.”

Danny held in the sigh. Great, it was most likely the woman with the pearls floating behind him. “Let me guess, lady, dark hair, nice pearly necklace.”

The man seemed caught of guard for just a second before becoming it seemed angry. Or just very very sad. “See here young man, I will -,”

“Yeah yeah, save it.” Was he being an ass? Yes. Did this man deserve it? Most likely not. Did he care? No. He just spend the entire night trying to find shelter for the rain just for it to either crumble, leak anyways or in one kinda memorable occasion, blow up. So no, he did not care that he hurt some Vlad’s 2.0 feelings. The woman eagerly began speaking so he just repeated what she said. “Great, so she wants you to not let the Matt hatter ruin Alice in wonderland for you?” Danny looked at the lady like she had gone crazy. “Really, that’s what you’re starting with? Anyways.” He sighed.

The man had become silent at that. “Also, we I ask Alfie?” He looked at the spirit lady who nodded enthusiastically. “Give you the book he wrote named ‘how to navigate social situations: a step by step guide’ and use it to finally have a good talk with her grandson.” Okay, so rich dude had family issues. None of his business. “And, in her words, ‘chance the time on the grandfather clock, this is just getting depressing’ whatever that means.” The man was just silently staring at him now.

Another ghost tapped the lady on the shoulder before he turned to Danny too. “And great, another one joined.” They linked hands. “So it’s a date now, great.” He grumbled more to himself. So it was two friends who died and not just one. Okay, he could deal with that. “He says that they will always love you no matter what.” So it was a lovers affair instead of just friends? “And that the name you’re looking for is Edward Colson? Sheesh, was this a murder or something.” The two were getting more exited and talking his ears off.

“One at a time please.” He glared to mr. Wayne’s left. The man glancing behind him, predictably seeing nothing. “Anyways, was that what you came for? Or do you need anything else?” The man seemed to have actual tears in his eyes.

“You can see my parents?” Danny snapped his eyes to the two who looked sadly at their apparently son. Well, that explained the fashion choice. Also, that was almost worse then a love affair murder case.

Danny just stared at the man and didn’t really know what to say. He was translating this guys dead moms words to him. Ancients, he was an asshole. Stupid, idiotic, moronic move Fenton. Great, how to cut this off as soon as possible. “Only for a while. The power in this room will fade in a bit.” The man was a totally different person now. Danny hesitated. “Do you want to say anything to them?”

He thinks he had much more tact just now than in the past 10 minutes. “I’m sorry.” The two ghost seemed to decent on the man. Cooing at him, telling him he was not at fault, that he couldn’t know, couldn’t have done anything, was only a child when it happened.

“Ah screw it.” Danny said before making just the tip of his finger invisible. That should contain the spirits becoming visible in the area, right? He was still debating wether this was a mistake or not while the spirits of Martha and Thomas Wayne became visible to their sons eyes. Ancients he needs Jazz.

I’m a Size Medium, Thanks.

Danny is irritated. No actually he is beyond irritated. He is annoyed, he is frustrated, he is…. He’s really fricking irritated and can’t be bothered to remember any more of Jazz’s SAT words.

He continues his glare out the window as he searches for his straw with his mouth.

He just- where is it- thinks it’s a stupid fricking-stupid ass milkshake-he shouldn’t have to basically-gah! Danny snaps his head down to find his suddenly missing straw, only to successfully poke it directly into his eye.

“Ow! Fricken-“ He groans, throwing his head back, and putting his hands to his face, “Mother-tucker, Holy Taming of A Shrew!” He pounds his free hand not cradling his eye on the table, trying not to make more of a scene. Of course, this utterly fails because it immediately tips over his milkshake glass with a clatter as it spills onto his pants, making him jump up with enough force to knock the table over and drop the milkshake glass the rest of the way to the floor.

Danny stares at it with blurry vision and a watery eye. He sighs, “At least-“

The glass shatters.

Danny sighs again, deeper. “Of course.”

He looks up at the restaurant around him. Noticing the many, many people staring at him.

Wonderful.

Danny grimaces, “Sorry, I so didn’t mean for that to happen, uh-“ Danny reaches to straighten the table, fumbling for a second before it stands upright, he steps away from it, “If there’s any way I can help or.. like fix it. I can pay for the cup..” a server comes over to him, “if you want..?”

The server’s dead eyes don’t waver as they silently place a wet floor sign over the spilled milkshake.

“Thanks.”

“Uh huh.”

The server walks away, leaving Danny to sigh all on his own. He leans over to grab his backpack from the booth, checking it over for milkshake before slinging it on his back, thankfully clean.

He makes it one step forward before he feels the floor go out from under him. Ah gravity. His greatest enemy. This is karma for all those times he’s ignored it, isn’t it?

The wind is knocked out of him when his back slams to the floor, cushioned by the dulcet sounds of his bag crunching against broken glass.

He looks up at the wet floor sign.

The man on the yellow plastic mocks him.

Danny sighs.

He curses his stupid luck.

He curses this stupid city.

Then he curses himself because he knows any of this stupid city’s curses end up affecting him anyways.

Danny gets to his feet, ignoring the feeling of milkshake on his hands and his… everywhere.

He trudges out of the diner without looking back. At least he’d already paid for it.

He grimaces at the milkshake handprint on the door, trying to wipe it away with his shirt and only succeeding in making it worse.

Danny catches the eyes of the server inside, staring at him, eyes progressively more annoyed.

Danny puts his hands up in surrender and backs away.

Directly into a person. Only his milkshake covered self prevents him from being hit with anything more than the man’s scathing glare.

He puts his hands back up and moves away to dodge everybody else on the sidewalk. Along with the occasional ghost. Visible only to him of course.

By the time he has managed to escape the sidewalks into an alley, he is certain there is a trail of slightly sticky businessmen behind him.

Danny crouches to swing his backpack down in front of him and take stock. Okay, he could put his sweatshirt on over it… but it would also get ruined… damn it.

Danny looks around, checking every inch of the alley for cameras and then backing himself into a corner just to be safe. The flicker of intangibility is barely noticeable except for the wet squelch of milkshake remnants dropping to the alley floor. Lovely.

And of course, the flash of every single Gotham ghost in the area becoming visible and almost tangible for a split second. Also… lovely. There’s a couple startled shouts on the street.

Maybe an alleyway was not the best place for that.

Danny slides his sweatshirt on over his shirt to at least pretend like he was covering a mess and then shimmies out of the alley while trying to make as little contact with ghosts as possible.

He’s almost completely certain he looks crazy as all get out if the stare he gets from a passerby means anything.

Of course… now he’s left glaring across the street again.

He can feel the Infini-Map burning a hole in his backpack. It said this was the next place a natural portal would open and get him back home.

It just didn’t say… when that portal would open.

But of course, it’ll be right in the middle of somebody’s store. Usually not an issue. Except again, this stupid city’s curses are attracted to his energy, so of course the store couldn’t be literally ANYTHING ELSE!

Danny glares at the stupid fricking sign and the stupid predictable pun and the stupid neon hand in the front window waving at him.

‘The Claire Witch Project: psychic, medium, and Claire-voyant’

Danny is on day three of simultaneously avoiding the entire building while remaining close enough he can be there when the portal forms.

He is dirty, tired, and running out of money. In short, Danny is starting to lose hope on this endeavor.

The worst part?

He has the perfect solution.

There’s a pathetic little piece of printer paper taped to the inside of the window.

‘Help wanted’

When he’d first gotten here, Danny had followed the infini-map all the way to this horrific city, seen the sign, and turned a quick 180. He’d rather die again thanks.

He’d smacked into two billboards just coming into the city, and there was literally no stars, why would he want to stay here till the portal opened when he could just find another?

Except.. Danny’s eye twitches dangerously as he thinks back on it- except there wasn’t another portal. This was it. For the foreseeable future, he either caught this portal or was stranded for whoever knows how much longer.

Danny sighs again and dreads his continued existence. He looks both ways on the street, takes a step forward, nearly gets run over, steps back, and turns for the nearest crosswalk.

Fine. He could follow rules if it meant increasing his chances of leaving.

He tries to hold in the sigh this time, he really does, he swears.

Not the one before he opens the shop door though, that sigh deserved freedom from his trials. It joins the myriad of whispy translucent shades lingering in the store. Because of course there was just enough spiritual energy in here for them to be visible to him.

“Hey there!” A girl in loose fitting colorful clothing appears from behind a corner, “I’m Claire! How can I help your life journey today?” He can see the way her bulky crystal hair accessories sway with her movements. What was he getting into here again?

Danny tries to ignore the incense shoving itself up his nose as he speaks, “Hey, I was…” He was really doing this huh? “Hoping that the help wanted position is still available?”

The girl looks him over as she moves to the back of the checkout counter. The clear observation makes him nervous, and he takes his hands out of his pockets to try and look marginally more… candidate-able.

“You have experience?”

“Sure d-“ He wants to throw up in his own mouth, ancients this is so cringe, just let him die, “Sure do!” He says through choked back vomit and false cheer, “I’m a…” -barf- “I’m a medium.”

“Oh don’t worry about that, you don’t need a uniform, I don’t need your size silly!”

Danny blinks. What? Also. What?

“Wait-I’m hired?”

Claire pauses from getting something from under the counter, “Didn’t I already say that?”

“Uh…” Danny’s eyes dart around the shop, “No?”

“Oh well, you are, you have the right vibes, don’t worry,” she slides a few papers onto the glass counter, and Danny is abruptly, horrifically reminded he has no legal documents to speak of here. He thinks. He hasn’t actually checked.

Crap.

“Of course, most of my clients pay in cash, so I’ll pay you in cash too just to make it easier, and any crystal sales I’ll just add to it. Sound good?”

“Sure?” Oh no, is this gonna be Danny’s first real job? “But I don’t know anything about crystals. I have a goth friend but she’s not into that stuff.”

Claire waves his comment away, “Oh no worries, I can leave a packet.”

Danny nods, “Thank- wait, sorry. Leave?”

Claire laughs, pulling out a bag from behind her counter, “Yes I leave for a trip in two days. Family things you know,”

Danny feels like his brain is being scrambled, “Oh, what, what happened? Is everything okay?”

Claire looks at him, blinking wide, “What? Why would anything have happened?”

“Because… you said, you were leaving for-“

“Just don’t want to get caught in a bad position, you know how it is.”

Some of the shades stir in the air, their misty movements twitching with agitation enough to draw his eye for a second.

“Right. Well I’m glad I came when I did then,” Danny says, because he still doesn’t want to be rude.

Claire smiles at him.

Danny pats his hands against his sides awkwardly, trying not to look up at the movement of the shades intertwined with incense smoke at the ceiling.

There’s a little jingle behind him, which he belatedly realizes is the door when Claire moves to greet them before he can even turn around.

“Ms. Jives! Wonderful to see you! How’s the goldfish?”

Ms. Jives turns out to be a slightly older woman, maybe early seventies with a cane but she looks good. The coffee brown hair is almost certainly a dye job but it frames her wrinkled face well.

“Oh Jim is lovely dear, much better this way, I bought him a new plant just the other day, he just loves it.”

“Good, here for your reading right?”

“I am! But you can finish up with your customer first if you need,” Ms. Jives says. Claire waves her concern away.

“No need, this is Danny, I just hired him, he has a similar mystical connection.”

“Oh that’s lovely,” Ms. Jives says as she passes by him, “Would you like to come with dear? Claire is going to do a reading for me.”

Danny grimaces, “Sure.”

In the end, by the time Ms. Jives makes it slowly to the back room, Danny is trying to think of where he’s gonna sleep tonight. He mostly zones out when Claire dims the lights and starts talking nonsense.

All he heard was “something something card, something something magician something reversed something something balance something something chihuahua.”

Ok, maybe he wasn’t listening. But he was trying to focus on not staring at the movement of the shades, and the incense was mega strong and Claire had some weird ass music playing. He’s almost certain she’s faking everything. Down to the atrociously bright bead earrings.

Danny sags when she finishes, all too happy to leave the weird little curtain covered room.

He stands in the front awkwardly while Ms. Jives pays, twiddling with the various crystals and trying to figure which ones are actually y’know.. mystical or whatever.

Answer? Surprisingly most of them. That he could tell, at least, but it’s not like he actually knows how to sense that out on purpose. He’s pretty sure a couple of the heart shaped rose quartzes are complete duds but what does he care.

He’s thoroughly bored by the time Claire calls him back over. Apparently to tell him that he’ll do a reading tomorrow.

“Tomorrow?!” Danny blurts, “Don’t you want to like- I don’t know, make sure I can- or like.. I don’t know, but tomorrow?”

Claire just smiles at him, “I believe you can handle it, trust me.”

‘Trust you? Lady, I just met you and you’ve been nothing but crazy the whole time!’ Danny wants to say, instead, he keeps his mouth shut and nods with what he’s sure is fear in his eyes.

Then she’s pressing something into his hands and when he looks down it’s a key. A key. There’s no way-

“So be here 9am sharp, Danny! You can open up and I’ll come in later!” Claire starts pushing him towards the door, “And Mr. Wayne should be waiting for you when you get here!”

Danny turns around to catch himself in the doorframe, “Mr who will be what now!? Wait, Ms. Claire, Ma’am- why-!” He stops to lower his volume and ask politely, “Why am I doing this? You don’t even know me,” Danny says, one leg still in the store.

Claire smiles, “Because the universe told me to silly! See you tomorrow! Here’s my number!” Then she slaps a sticky note to his chest with enough finality that Danny takes a step back. The door closes with a click and ring of the bell inside.

Danny stares at the door with his eye twitching for at least a minute.

What the hell did ‘the universe told me to’ even mean, you kook!?

Danny sighs and looks down at the sticky note, quickly inputting the number in his phone before something happens to it.

He’s barely hit save when he finally steps away from the shop front and…. is immediately drenched to the bone.

Because apparently it’d been pouring rain and he simply hadn’t noticed from under the awning.

He watches as blue ink slides off the sticky note in little sad face streaks.

Danny sighs.

#don’t know how that came out #written on a phone so ignore any mistakes d:#batman #danny phantom #danny fenton #dc #danny phantom crossover #bruce wayne #Danny being done yet didn’t think of lying to get rid of frootloop number 2 #Bruce is shooketh #the universe is laughing tho #debatable if it was clockwork or just an unknown god somewhere from dc

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v6quewrlds · 2 days ago

Text

❝ know no better, m. barzal. ❞ ‎ ‎ ┉

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: with your work responsibilities taking you away from long island, you and mat haven't had much time to blow off some steam. his friends, however, are tired of being on the receiving end of mat's "steam" and enlist you to help.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: about half way through the nnn series! i am a diva!mat truther so enjoy. day five of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, oral (male receiving), mat’s a lil grump.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: mathew barzal x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.4k.

You looked up from your laptop, your eyes scanning the crowded airport lounge. The clacking of keyboards and murmur of distant conversations created a familiar backdrop to your focused silence. You sighed, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you awaited your flight's boarding call. Your phone buzzed, and you picked it up, expecting to see a message from work reminding you of the deadlines that had kept you in Boston for nearly a month. Instead, you found a text from Ethan Bear.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You hadn't spoken to Ethan in ages, not since the last time you and Mat had seen him over the summer.

The message was simple: "Hey, noticed Mat's been on edge lately?"

You read it again, a hint of confusion creasing your forehead. Of course, you had noticed. Mat's mood swings were like the tides, but you had just chalked it up to the pressure of his season and your demanding work schedule pushing distance between the two of you.

You typed back, "He makes it hard not to lol he's prob just stressed with the season. Why?"

Ethan's response was swift and to the point. "It's that dumb No Nut November bet. He's losing his shit like a little bitch. Can you fix him?"

You couldn't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all. Mat, your six-foot hockey player of a boyfriend, reduced to a grumpy mess over a bet? It was almost endearing in its ridiculousness. But Ethan's concern was clear, and you knew you couldn't ignore it.

You replied, "I'll see what I can do," with a winking emoji, feeling less than guilty for the amusement that bubbled up inside you.

As you boarded the plane, you couldn't shake the image of Mat, all six feet of brooding masculinity, brought to his knees by his own stubbornness. You chuckled to yourself, imagining the look on his face when you told him you knew about the bet. The flight back to Long Island was a blur of work emails and half-hearted attempts at relaxing, your mind racing with ideas to tease him into dropping this absurd challenge.

When you finally stepped into your apartment, the tension hit you like a wall. Mat's heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you could hear him muttering under his breath. You set down your bag and called out, "Honey, I'm home!" with a playful lilt in your voice.

Mat appeared around the corner, his eyes flashing with a mix of relief and annoyance. "Fucking finally," he grumbled, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly in an attempt to suppress a smile.

You rolled your eyes, your amusement clear. "What crawled up your ass?" You stepped closer to him, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Mat sighed, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. "You wouldn't understand."

You stepped closer, your curiosity piqued. "Try me."

Mat rolled his eyes, his frustration palpable. "It's just this stupid bet with the guys. I can't believe how much it's messing with my head."

Your smile grew. "Oh, the No Nut November bet? That's what's got you all worked up?" You couldn't resist poking the bear. "You know you can just tell them you can't do it, right?"

Mat's jaw clenched, and he glared at you. "It's not that simple. My pride's on the line."

You chuckled, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "Okay, tough guy," you said, your voice gentle and teasing. "But if it's really bothering you, maybe you should just, I don't know, not do it?"

Mat's eyes searched yours for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his gaze. He was torn between his pride and his desire to end the torment. You decided to take matters into your own hands. You leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I have an idea," you murmured against his skin. "How about I help you relieve some of that tension?"

His eyes widened, and you knew you had his attention. "How?" he asked, his voice gruff with hope.

You stepped closer, your hands sliding down to his chest, your thumbs tracing the firm muscles beneath his shirt. "How about I give you a little something to take your mind off of it?" you suggested, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. You saw the spark of interest in his eyes and knew you had him in your grasp.

Mat's expression softened slightly, his eyes flickering with curiosity and a hint of desperation. "What are you thinking?" he asked, his tone cautious.

You smirked. "I could give you a reason to lose the bet?" you offered, your voice laced with playful challenge. You watched as the realization dawned on him, and his eyes grew dark with need.

"Did someone set you up to this?" he asked, his voice thick with suspicion, trying to hide his growing excitement.

"Let's just say I have my ways of finding things out," you replied with a wink. You could feel the tension in the room start to ease as Mat's curiosity took over.

Mat looked at you skeptically. "Alright. But if you're just messing with me..."

You giggled, standing on your tiptoe to whisper in his ear, "I'm not messing with you, baby." Your breath was warm and sweet, sending a shiver down his spine. "I want to help."

Mat stared at you for a moment, trying to gauge your seriousness. He was desperate for relief, and the thought of losing the bet was becoming increasingly more appealing by the second. With a huff, he stepped back, his arms crossing over his broad chest. "Okay, fine. What do you have in mind?"

You took a step closer, your eyes never leaving his. "Well, I was thinking..." you trailed off, your hands moving to the hem of his shirt, "maybe I could help you relax." You began to lift his shirt, your hands gliding over his abs, your manicured nails lightly scraping against his skin. "You know, just a little something to take the edge off."

Mat's resolve was crumbling. The feel of your hands on him was too tempting to resist. He let out a gruff chuckle, trying to maintain his tough exterior. "You're really going to do this?"

Your smile grew mischievous as you continued to lift his shirt, exposing his toned stomach. "Mmhmm," you hummed, your eyes flicking up to meet his. "I think it's only fair that if you're going to be a grumpy mess, I get to enjoy the perks of helping you out."

Mat's arms fell to his sides, his eyes locked on yours as you continued to explore his torso with your fingertips. "And what perks would those be?" he asked, his voice low and gruff with anticipation.

Your smile was sly. "Well," you said, your thumbs grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, "I was thinking I could give you a nice, long, slow release."

Mat's eyes darkened, and he took a sharp intake of breath. "Fuck it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a fiery kiss that sent shockwaves through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you gave in to the passion you had been craving for weeks.

The two of you stumbled into the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you. You pushed him down onto the bed, your body straddling him. You could feel his heart racing under you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, his muscles taut and his eyes filled with a desperate need that made your own pulse quicken.

Mat's hands found the zipper of your jacket, his fingers fumbling with the fabric as he tried to get it off of you. You laughed and helped him, shrugging out of the jacket and tossing it aside. You leaned in again, your mouth tracing a line of kisses down his neck and chest, feeling his body respond to your touch. His breathing grew ragged, and you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.

As you kissed down his body, you felt the tension in Mat's muscles start to unwind. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and you knew that you were winning the battle against his pride. With a knowing smile, you began to undo the drawstring of his shorts, your eyes focused on his.

"Missed this pretty, perfect dick," you murmured against the fabric of Mat's shorts, your voice muffled and playful. Mat's body tensed in anticipation as you slowly pulled them down, revealing him to your gaze. You took a moment to admire him, your eyes sparkling with a mix of humor and desire.

Mat groaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets. "You're evil, you know that?"

Your eyes gleamed with victory. "Only when it's for your own good," you teased, your fingertips brushing against his arousal. You watched his reaction, his eyes rolling back slightly, raven hair beautifully contrasting the crisp white sheets.

Mat's hand reached up to tug at your hair, urging you closer. "Just do it," he begged, his voice a mix of frustration and need.

You chuckled, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Pushy," you said, your voice low and soothing. You leaned down, your warm breath fanning across his skin. Mat shivered as you pressed a kiss to the tip, your lips curling into a smug smile at his gasp. You took your time, teasing him with feather-light kisses and gentle strokes, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

Mat's eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth grinding together. "Baby," he ground out, his voice a desperate plea. You conceded and took him into your mouth, your movements slow and deliberate, savoring his taste and the sound of his moans. His hips bucked upwards, and you held him down with a firm hand, keeping the pace at a torturous crawl.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, watching the myriad of emotions playing across his face: surprise, pleasure, and a hint of embarrassment at his loss of control. You took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked gently, and he swore, his hands fisting in the sheets. The salty tang of his sweat mingled with the faint scent of his cologne, and you felt a thrill of power knowing you could bring this strong, confident man to the brink of madness with just your mouth.

Mat's thighs tensed beneath you as you increased your pace, your hand pumping in time with your mouth. His breath grew ragged, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. You took him deeper still, your throat tightening around him, the sensation of his impending climax thrumming through your body.

"Shit," Mat groaned, his voice tight with need. "C’mon, babe, I can't..."

You released him slowly. "You can't what, baby?" you whispered, your voice like velvet against his sensitive skin.

His eyes flew open, and he stared at you, desperation warring with the need to maintain his pride. "I'm gonna come, baby," he warned, his voice strained.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes gleaming. "Mmm, I know," you said, your voice a sweet taunt. With a devilish smile you held his gaze as you stuck your tongue out, a line of saliva connecting your mouth to his glistening cock. Mat's hips jerked upwards involuntarily, his eyes widening with shock and pleasure.

"You're gonna lose that bet," you whispered, your breath warm against his sensitive skin. Mat's jaw clenched, and he nodded, the fight draining out of him. His hand reached for you, guiding you back down to him. "Good boy," you murmured, your mouth enveloping him again.

Mat's hips began to thrust slightly, his movements growing more urgent. You felt a rush of wetness between your legs, your own desire spiking at the sound of his desperate moans. You tightened your grip, your tongue swiping against the underside of his shaft. His hips bucked harder. With one last, deep suck, you felt him pulse in your mouth, the warmth of his release flooding your mouth.

Mat's body went rigid as he came, his breath hitching in his throat. You swallowed, your eyes never leaving his. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of him, and gave his cock one last gentle kiss before sitting back on your heels. You watched him, his chest heaving and eyes glazed over with pleasure.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by your ragged breathing. Then Mat's face contorted into a mix of frustration and relief. "Fuck," he muttered, collapsing back onto the bed. "How bad was I?"

You grinned, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Oh, you were pretty bad," you teased, your voice light and playful. "Ethan texted me about it. Said you were being a little bitch."

Mat's face reddened as he buried his face in a pillow, muffling his groan of embarrassment. You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "It's okay," you said, your voice gentle. "You're my little bitch."

Mat threw the pillow at you, his laughter joining yours. "Fuck off," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric.

You caught the pillow and tossed it aside, your smile widening. "It's all love, baby," you said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "But seriously, you okay?"

Mat took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good." He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I just didn't know it would get to me like this."

Your expression softened, and you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the stubble that had started to form. "No more dumb bets?" you asked, your voice a gentle reprimand.

Mat sighed, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability. "No more dumb bets," he agreed, his voice gruff. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. "I'm sorry for being such an asshole."

Your smile was warm, your thumb continuing to stroke his cheek. "You should probably apologize to Ethan. Whatever you did to him, it's gotta be bad if he's asking for my help."

Mat chuckled, his irritation fading. "I'll text him later, tell him you talked some sense into me." He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. "Thank you, baby." He kissed you, the affection in his touch making your heart flutter.

#&. cassie writes.#&. nnn masterlist.#mat barzal fic #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal angst #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mathew barzal fluff #mathew barzal x reader #mathew barzal smut #mathew barzal fic #mathew barzal imagine #x black reader #x black fem reader #black!fem!reader #black!reader

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papercorgiworld · 2 days ago

Text

Gryffindor Fever

Mattheo Riddle x Gryffindor!reader

Brought to you by this request. While the Slytherins usually bully you, everything drastically changes when you go missing and Mattheo finds out he might have, what Pansy calls: Gryffindor fever.

Happy readings lovely readers! 💛

“Wooh, your test went about as well as the last gryffindor quidditch game.” Mattheo laughed and half of the class chimed as you looked horrified at your test. Snape shushed the class only to hack into your emotional state himself.

And if that had been it for today, you wouldn’t have complained but leave it to the slytherin douchebags to make your day worse. A smug looking Draco pushes everyone to the side to catch up with you, his cold eyes snaring at you, followed by his gang. “Being stupid can’t be helped. It comes with gryffindor colours, but dressing like you fell into your grandma’s laundry basket is your choice.” Theo snickers as he pulls your home knit scarf. You loosen your scarf and before you fully register what you're saying you’ve already snapped back at the tall slytherin. “Says the guy who doesn’t know how to use a comb.” You snap, darting mean eyes at his bird’s nest of a hairdo. Mattheo has to press his lips together, hiding his amusement at your feistiness, as Theo takes a big step towards you, only to be held back by Enzo. “Dumbledore is around the corner, think about the house cup, mate.” Enzo ushers in a loud whisper, making Theo turn around but not before his dead eyes curse you to the beyond.

You give them a nasty look, before turning around a corner. “Nice one. Those guys need to be put in their place more often. Otherwise they’ll think they own hongwarts.” George says, but his voice echoes in the back of your head as you feel yourself get lightheaded. Suddenly you feel arms wrap around you and after a few deep breaths you manage to look up and meet Fred’s eyes. You regain strength and lift your hand to rest on your forehead. “I got dizzy for a moment.” You analyse out loud in a soft whisper. “Yeah, we noticed.” Fred voices his concern as he helps you sit down against a cold wall. George immediately conjures a cup of water for you, which you take with a soft smile. “I got way too worked up over my test and Snape’s lecture and those- those idiots.” The twins look at you with sympathy and to each other with a glitter in their eyes, for sure they would play a fantastic trick on those Slytherins for you getting so stressed.

It was Hermoine’s advice that convinced you to ignore and avoid everyone and everything silver and green coloured. “Just study and find peace in the books.” She had told you over dinner that same day. You following her advice hadn’t gone unnoticed as Slytherins started to miss their favourite gryffindor to make a fool of. Harry was a sensitive issue after he and Draco had almost kissed him when drunk at a Hufflepuff party. Hermione was old news. And Ron was just too easy of a target. You were perfect, but as of the last few days: unfindable, since you hit in a corner of the library only nerdy ravenclaws and Hermione knew about. And apparently also Fred and George.

“You gotta eat!” George exclaimed, losing his patience with you. “No. I got to study.” You mumble not looking up from your book. “Failing one test will not kill you, starvation will.” Fred added as he tried to reach for your book. You quickly pull your book closer. “I already failed a test, if I fail another Snape will kill me.” “Your brain needs food.” Fred says with a voice low and serious. “Later…” You say, your eyes meeting his for only a second. The twins sigh, but leave for the great hall in defeat. “Unbelievable, that one.” You hear George whisper, making you look at them walking away. I really should eat… after this chapter I should definitely eat something.

You did not eat after that chapter, in fact you studied late. Robbing yourself of sleep and draining yourself completely.

“Do you think (y/n) is alright?” Mattheo blurs out as he stares at the fire, standing still with his hands in his pockets. Pansy looks up from the novel she was reading, carefully studying Mattheo through her lashes before scanning the empty common room. It’s only when Mattheo turns to look at her that she puts her book away. “Do I look like the Gryffindor whisperer to you? No clue what that girl thinks. At this point I don’t even know what you’re thinking… What’s she to you?” Mattheo shrugs. “Just haven’t seen her in a while.” Pansy fakes a pout. “You must have the same thing as Draco…” Mattheo frowns, but Pansy’s quick to explain herself as she gets up and whispers in Mattheo’s ear: “Gryffindor fever.”

Mattheo gives Pansy a look of disgust but quickly finds that he has no counterargument, because he really was worried about you. Pansy cheekily tilts her head to the side as she watches Mattheo struggle. Just as Mattheo has gathered enough words for a sentence the door to the common room is blown open and Mattheo is slung against a wall, making Pansy shriek and duck behind a couch. “Where is she, you snake?” George yells as both twins point their wands at Mattheo who is picking himself up off the ground. “What?!”

***

With panic in their eyes Fred, George and Mattheo flew over hogwarts’ grounds, quickly Mattheo grew impatient and started to explore the edge of the dark forest. You had been last seen by a hufflepuff who thought you were looking for potion ingredients, depending on what you were looking for you would have probably gone into the forest. Mattheo felt his heart racing, what if something bad had happened to you. He suddenly realised how silly he had been pretending he didn’t care about anyone, leave alone annoying Gryffindors. His grip on his broom tightened as it dawned on him that he only wanted people to think he didn’t care about you and that seemed so silly now.

From a distance your body looks lifeless and Mattheo’s heart stopped beating for what felt like minutes until he wrapped you in his arms. A soft sound escapes your lips and a most gentle kiss on your head assures you that you’ll be alright. “Let’s get you back to the castle and all warmed up.” You were still pretty out of it but you could’ve sworn that sounded like Mattheo Riddle, but like the soft gentle version… Clearly you were not well yet, because that would be impossible. Instinctively you grab onto his warm clothes and snuggle in. Your whole body was drained of energy but you knew you were safe.

George opened the door to the Gryffindor common room and Fred held the door open while George threw everyone off the couch. Every Gryffindor in the room stood gawking as Mattheo carried you inside carefully. As Mattheo ever so gently lay you down on the couch, he heard Ron whisper: “Now I’ve seen everything.” Making the slytherin roll his eyes as he could already imagine the red head’s dumb face. Fred leans over you, softly whispering your name. George pushes both Mattheo and Fred away so he can lay a blanket over you and Fred tucks you in a little more as your eyes flutter open. Every student in the room has now surrounded the couch you’re laying on. “What happened?” Hermione asks, eyes darting between the twins. “Think she passed out.” George answers and Fred nods. “Yeah.” You whisper and you open your eyes fully to see everyone hang over the couch staring at you. “I probably shouldn’t have eaten and slept a bit more instead of just studying for Snape’s stupid test.”

Mattheo just keeps his distance, feeling guilty for everytime he mistreated you. Not saying a word since he feels unworthy. Slowly he makes his way to the door as he hears you explain what happened. “Hey, is it possible I heard Riddle’s voice when I was in the forest?” You suddenly ask, making Mattheo hold his breath as the room falls silent. “Yeah…” George says as he moves away, so you see a soft looking Mattheo staring back at you. Mattheo swallows hard, gathering courage to say what he really wishes to say. “Take care of yourself.” There’s a sincerity in his voice, but the way he raises his hand to awkwardly wave you goodbye makes the whole ordeal just bizarre. Ron just stares at Mattheo with wide eyes as he leaves. “If I didn’t know any better I would think he genuinely cares for you, (y/n).” Yeah, if I didn’t know any better… I would think the same.

***

Mattheo had been on your mind ever since he left so awkwardly that night. You would often catch yourself trying to remember the warmth of that forehead kiss, his smell when you held onto him and his gentle words. It seemed so surreal. You shake your head trying to focus on the test in front of you, but again your thoughts drift to how ever since you passed out, not a single person has bothered you. Your eyes wander over to Mattheo obviously trying to see what Theo is writing on his test. In order to get yourself to focus, you promise yourself that you’ll confront Mattheo after Snape’s class.

You patiently wait outside the classroom while Mattheo and Enzo try to suck up to Snape, since they had a bad feeling about the test. When both guys enter the hallway you immediately step in front of them. “Mattheo, can we talk?” Your voice came out softer than you expected. Enzo licked his lips, but Mattheo made sure nothing cheeky was said and sent Enzo away with one curt nod. “How did your test go?” Mattheo asks, to your surprise he sounded like any other student. There was no mocking tone and mean eyes staring you down. “It went pretty good, I guess… but you never know with Snape. He’s not really fond of Gryffindors.” Mattheo smiles. “You don’t say. Hadn’t noticed.” You chuckle and his eyes linger on your lips, adoring your soft laugh.

“How are you?” He quickly picks up the conversation, worried his staring would weird you out. “I’m good. I’ve been eating properly and Ginny’s been making sure I go to bed on time, Fred and George’s orders.” A soft huff escapes Mattheo’s lips and you couldn’t quite figure out what it meant. “They’re good friends, those Weasley’s. You’re lucky you have them watching over you.” You couldn’t help but smile at him with loving eyes. There was something so adorable about Mattheo, you couldn’t have believed it if he wasn’t standing right in front of you. “Thank you.” You whisper, making Mattheo’s eyes shoot up to lock onto yours. “I’m lucky to have you as well.” You move to stand on your tippy toes and give a feather light kiss on his cheeks, turning the cold Slytherin into a blushing love struck puppy.

Mattheo felt himself heat up and just stood there nailed to the floor as you walked away. And he could help but think back to Pansy’s words: This must be Gryffindor fever.

Word count: 1803

#slytherin boys #slytherin #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #papercorgiworldwritings #Mattheo Riddle x Gryffindor!reader

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zyafics-recs · 3 days ago

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reblogging comment review from @zyafics

SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO REBLOG, I WAS PACKING TO MOVE 🙂‍↕️ always these r my comments on my first AND SECOND read through because im actually obsessed with them ⬇️

also the two songs i've been playing on repeat for this fic is everytime by ariana grande and y.d.l.r by tory lanez. take from that as u will 😌

Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.

i cannot tell u how giggly i am rn

God, why did he always have to look so fucking good? His broad shoulders filling out his number 17 jersey, that stupid confident smirk as he skated out with the rest of the team. His dark blonde hair peeked out from under his helmet He was captain this year, and it made sense—he’d been working his ass off since…ever. You couldn’t think of anyone more deserving than him.

i love this so MUCH SO SO SO MUCH

You knew better than to be here, yet somehow you ended up courtside anyway. Probably because you’d never let him run you out of your favorite game. Not even if he was captain now. This was your team, the one you’d been coming to see since before Rafe even knew what a slapshot was.

i unfortunately do not know what a slapshot is

You sank further into Elijah’s side, forcing your eyes away from your ex. But it wasn’t until you caught the dark blue of the jersey you were wearing in the corner of your eye that you realized… You’d put on Rafe’s jersey.

YOU TOOK MY IDEA AHHHH 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

You followed his gaze, heart dropping. They were zooming in on the two of you. You could feel the crowd around you start to cheer and whistle as Elijah leaned in closer, clearly getting ready to kiss you.

ohmygodohmygodohmygodddd

Bang!In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.

As he FUCKING SHOULD I AM LITERALLY ON THE EDGE OF MY SEATTT

That was what had your pulse racing. You could barely focus on Elijah anymore. The way he laughed, oblivious, made your stomach churn because Rafe—Rafe—was staring like he owned you. He always had this way of making you feel like no matter what, no matter who else was around, you were his.

choose me love me fuck me (who said that)

Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."

When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.

his jealousy is RADIATING and i’m eating all of it up

“Bullshit,” he growled, leaning in closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off his body. “You knew exactly what you were doing. Bringing a date with you. Do you want me to kill someone?"

sometimes yes pls prove how obsessed u r w me

“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.

my favorite part of hate sex when they r LIARS

Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”

HES SUCH A DICK

His tongue slipped past your lips, and you bit down, hard, just to remind him you weren’t going to make this easy. He groaned, low and rough, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze dark. "You always did like it rough."

OH I FUCKING LOVE HERRR

But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his mouth capturing yours again in a kiss so raw, it was borderline filthy. And that was it. Your last piece of control vanished, and you were lost in him all over again.

HE DOESNT EVEN LET HER ANSWER why is this so hotttt

Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”

i’m so quiet bc i’m so into this 🫣🫣🫣🫣

“You’re mine,” Rafe growled, his voice rough as he thrust into you, each movement deep and brutal.“Doesn’t matter who you’re with, doesn’t matter how much you try to deny it—you’ll always come back to me.”

ONE FUCKING CHANCE

He pulled out suddenly, and before you could catch your breath, he yanked you up, turning you around. You barely had time to register what was happening before he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed you against the cold locker. His cock was back inside you in seconds, filling you again, and you moaned, the new angle sending jolts of pleasure through your already overstimulated pussy.

he’s INSATIABLE

“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”

YKW FUCK U I WILL

He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."

so u give me earth-shattering smut and emotional angst? screw u

💌 i am absolutely enamored by the way u wrote their tension, how rafe fucking banged against the plexiglass and DARES her ohmygod i melted in a fucking puddle. ur smut was absolutely hot scorning riveting AND I WAS SO SURPRISED BY THIS MANS STAMINA LIKE CAN WE CATCH A BREATHE ugh ☺️💘 u did my req so much justice n gave me sm inspo i must write now

ex!reader who loves the game and wants to support her team but hockey captain!rafe is on the ice. he thinks she’s there for him but when she comes in with a date? and when they get put on the kiss cam? rafe slams into the glass to scare them? hate sex????

someone who lets you break them twice - hockey!toxic!rafe x ex!reader (+18)

warnings: veryyy long and 99% smut🙂‍↕️ the things i do for you...

The cold air inside the rink always made your skin tingle. Your breath curled in front of you like smoke as you moved uncomfortably on the bleachers, pulling your jacket tighter around you. This is why you hated fall. It was too cold to be outside, too early to be winter. But tonight wasn’t about the weather—it was about hockey.

Hockey and, well, the fact that you hadn’t missed a game since… well, since Rafe and you broke up.

“Everything okay?” The voice beside you pulled you back to reality.

Elijah, the guy you’d been seeing for the past couple of weeks, smiled at you, oblivious to the bullshit taking over your mind, and you gave him your best smile back.

“Yeah, just cold,” you said, trying to focus. You weren’t here for Rafe, not anymore. You loved hockey. You loved watching the boys skate across the ice, their power and grace.

Or at least that was what you kept telling yourself.

Elijah wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him, and you leaned in, feeling his warmth. The game was just about to start, and the arena lights dimmed slightly, casting shadows over the rink. The roar of the crowd drowned your thoughts for a moment as the players took the ice.

And then, as if the universe was personally trying to screw with you, you saw him.

Rafe.

Of course, he looked good.

He always had to be in charge, on and off the ice.

He still had that same cocky swagger that made you wanna scream… for entirely different reasons now.

His number. The one you’d always worn to support him when you were together. Out of all the team merch you owned, of course you had to wear his.

“You really like hockey a lot, huh?” Elijah asked, glancing down at your jersey.

“Yeah,” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’ve been following the team for a while.”

Lies. You loved hockey, sure. But you loved Rafe a little more. Or, you used to. Or, well, maybe that was still complicated.

The puck dropped, and the game started. For a while, you tried to focus on the action. Rafe was all over the ice, playing like the goddamn superstar he thought he was. You couldn’t help but notice how his gaze kept darting up toward the stands, like he knew you were there. And maybe he did

Halfway through the second period, he slammed into an opposing player, sending him crashing into the boards. The sound echoed through the arena, and the crowd went wild, but you could feel your stomach knotting up. That had always been Rafe—intense, aggressive, unable to hold back. On the ice or off.

You tried to focus on Elijah, laughing at something he was saying, but your heart wasn’t in it. And then, just when you thought you’d survived the worst of it, the kiss cam flashed up on the big screen. Your laughter died in your throat as you realized what was happening, your face heating up instantly. You weren’t exactly embarrassed, but this was... awkward.

“Aw, how cute,” He said, grinning as he pointed to the screen.

You could see him coming toward you, could see his lips getting closer, but all you could think about was—

Bang!

In the span of a second, a body slammed into the boards right in front you, the sound so loud it made you jump. The entire section gasped, and you turned your head just in time to see Rafe standing there, glaring up at you from behind the glass. His eyes were locked on you, jaw clenched.

He looked like he was ready to tear Elijah apart, or you, or both of you. His chest was heaving, eyes blazing, standing mere inches away from where you sat. He had skated right into the glass.

Your heart was practically in your throat, and it wasn't from Elijah being close. The look on Rafe’s face as he stood on the other side of the glass?

And you hated that you still kind of liked it.

Then, still staring at you, he mouthed the words, "I dare you."

Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

Those stupid words. Silently mouthed, but somehow loud enough to hit you like a punch through the glass. I dare you. God, what was wrong with him? He knew exactly how to push your buttons. And of course, it was working. He wasn’t just playing hockey—he was playing with you.

You could feel Elijah shifting next to you, still oblivious to the whole freaking drama unfolding right in front of him.

He was so sweet, too sweet, and it was almost infuriating right now because Rafe was standing there, with his stupid intense eyes, all but daring you to move on. Why did he have to look at you like that—like he knew you were still his.

The breakup had been brutal, the kind of messy, loud explosion where neither of you were willing to be the first to walk away. You were both too stubborn, too prideful. And now here you were, months later, still dealing with the fallout.

Elijah finally leaned in, lips brushing yours, and you kissed him, but your heart wasn’t in it. All you could feel was Rafe’s stare burning into you. The kiss cam lingered for a few seconds, and the crowd cheered, but all you felt was... empty.

When the kiss ended, you forced a smile at Elijah, but your mind was a mess. Rafe’s eyes were still on you, and you could practically feel anger radiating off him, even through the thick glass.

You glanced down, avoiding his gaze, and tugged at the hem of his old jersey, suddenly feeling like you didn’t belong in it anymore. You leaned into Elijah, mostly out of spite at this point. You could practically hear Rafe’s teeth grinding from across the glass. Good. If he thought he could just walk around, acting like he owned the place—and you—then he deserved to stew in it a little.

But, of course, he wasn’t the kind of guy to just let something like that go. You watched as he skated back into play, but his eyes kept flicking up to where you sat, like he couldn’t stop checking to make sure you were still there. Still with Elijah. His shoulders were tense, movements a little too aggressive, like he was about to snap.

You tried to focus on the game again, but your mind kept drifting back to him. You hated this. You hated that he could still make you feel this way, even now, after everything.

After the fights, after the breakup, after swearing you were over him. Why was it so hard to let him go?

The third period started, and Rafe was everywhere, throwing his weight around like he had something to prove. And maybe he did. Every hit was harder, every pass sharper. It was like he was playing angry. And you couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied, knowing you’d gotten under his skin.

But then, with less than five minutes left in the game, things escalated. He slammed into one of the opposing players so hard that the guy went down, and the whistle blew immediately. The crowd was roaring, but Rafe didn’t back off. He stood over the guy, glaring down at him like he was ready to throw a punch.

"Jesus," Elijah muttered beside you. "What the hell’s his problem?"

You didn’t answer. You knew exactly what his problem was.

The ref skated over, shouting something at Rafe, but his eyes weren’t on the ref. They were still on you, even as the other guy on the ice slowly got back to his feet. The arena was buzzing, the crowd getting rowdy, and for a second, you thought Rafe was going to lose it right there. His fists clenched, jaw set—he looked like he was ready to drop gloves and start swinging.

And then he smirked.

It was that same cocky smirk you knew so well, the one he always flashed right before doing something reckless. The ref sent him to the penalty box, and he skated off, still with that fucking look plastered on his face. Your heart was racing, your body tense. Elijah had leaned back in his seat, totally unaware about everything.

“Man, that guy’s intense,” Elijah said, shaking his head, eyes still on the ice.

You didn’t answer. Intense didn’t even begin to cover it.

Rafe was sitting in the penalty box now, helmet off, running a hand through his hair like he didn’t just about murder a guy on the ice. You could feel his eyes on you, even from all the way across the rink. You hated it. You hated that he could still get to you like this.

The last few minutes of the game passed in an instant. You weren’t really paying attention anymore, not to the score, not to the plays. You were too busy trying not to think about Rafe, about the way he had looked at you. About the way it had made you feel.

When the final buzzer sounded, the crowd erupted in cheers. Elijah stood up, stretching, turning to you with a smile.

“Ready to head out?” he asked.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

As you made your way toward the exit, weaving through the crowd, you could feel the tension building in your chest. It wasn’t over. It never really was with Rafe.

And you knew—somehow—you weren’t getting out of here without seeing him again.

You reached the bottom of the stands, where a crowd had gathered near the exit. Elijah was still chatting about the game, still clueless. But you were distracted, scanning the crowd without even realizing it.

And then you saw him. Of course, you did.

Rafe was leaning against the wall, still in his gear, helmet tucked under his arm. His eyes locked on yours the second you stepped into his line of sight. He didn’t even pretend to care about the people around him—his gaze was dark, intense, like a predator waiting for its moment.

You hated how your heart skipped.

Elijah noticed you freeze and followed your gaze, his smile faltering when he saw Rafe standing there.

"Isn’t that the captain guy?" he asked, glancing between you and Rafe, confused.

You swallowed hard, forcing your feet to keep moving. “Yeah. That’s him.”

As you passed by, Rafe pushed off the wall, stepping right into your path. Elijah, sweet, unsuspecting Elijah, paused beside you.

"Leaving already?" Rafe’s voice was low, casual, but his eyes were locked on yours, ignoring Elijah completely. "Didn’t even stick around to congratulate the team?"

You clenched your jaw, fighting to keep your cool. "It’s late, Rafe. We’re heading out."

But he wasn’t letting you off that easy. He took a step closer, his towering frame making Elijah shift uncomfortably. "You didn’t used to leave so soon," he said, voice dripping with that familiar cockiness. "Used to be the last one out."

Because you’d always let him fuck you in the locker room.

Elijah cleared his throat, trying to stand his ground. "Uh, yeah, we’ve got plans after this."

Rafe’s eyes flicked to him for the briefest second, before landing back on you.

"Plans, huh?"

Your pulse was hammering, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks. Why did he always have to do this—why couldn’t he just let you go?

“Rafe, we’re done,” you said through gritted teeth, trying to hold on to the last shred of your composure. “You don’t get to pull this shit anymore.”

He glanced at Elijah briefly, his gaze cold and dismissive, then back at you. “You sure about that?” he asked, “Because it doesn’t look like it.”

You clenched your fists, nails biting into your palms as you tried to calm yourself. You didn’t need this right now. Not with Elijah here. Not after everything.

“Let’s go Elijah,” you said, tugging at Elijah’s arm, desperate to get out of there before things escalated. But Rafe wasn’t having it.

He stepped in front of you again, blocking your path like he had some kind of claim on you. And God, the worst part was—you weren’t sure he was wrong.

You glanced at Elijah, who was staring at the two of you like he had walked into the middle of a conversation he couldn’t quite follow. “Look, dude,” he started, awkwardly laughing, “I don’t know what this is, but—”

“It’s nothing,” you cut him off quickly, your voice tight. “Let’s just go.”

But Rafe wasn’t about to let it go.

“Yeah, Elijah,” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “It’s nothing.” His eyes flicked to you, dark and daring, and before you could stop yourself, you met his gaze with the same fire.

Elijah’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, frowning.

“Shit,” he muttered, distracted. “I’ve gotta take this call real quick. Give me a sec?” He stepped away, leaving you and Rafe standing there in the middle of the hallway, your body practically vibrating.

He was on you in an instant, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward the locker room door.

“Rafe, what the fuck—” you hissed, but he wasn’t letting go.

You tried to resist, but something inside you broke down—the anger, the unresolved pull between you two. And maybe it was the way he still had that stupid hold on you, the way your body responded when you shouldn’t want it to.

Or maybe it was the fact that you’d never fully closed the door on Rafe.

He shoved the door open, pulling you inside the dimly lit hallway that led to the locker room. The second the door closed, you spun around, shoving him in the chest hard.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?”

Rafe barely flinched, his gaze smoldering as he crowded you against the wall.

“Yeah? You didn’t seem to think so when you were wearing my jersey tonight.”

“That was an accident.”

Your heart was pounding, and not just because Rafe had you pinned against the wall like he always fucking did— God, why did he have to be so damn close? The scent of his cologne mixed with the sweat from the game, sending your mind spiraling. He was overwhelming, and you hated it. You hated him for still making you feel like this.

“Get off me,” you snapped, but it came out weaker than you intended. The way his blue eyes were boring into yours, like he could see through all your bullshit, wasn’t helping.

Rafe’s smirk didn’t falter. If anything, it grew.

“C’mon, baby, don’t act like this wasn’t what you wanted. You show up, wearin’ my number, sitting there with some random guy like I don’t still own you.”

He stepped closer, caging you in completely. You pressed your hands against his chest, but it wasn’t like you were really pushing him away. And he knew it.

“You don’t own shit,” you spat, glaring up at him. But even as the words left your mouth, you knew you didn’t believe them. The truth was, part of you had always been his.

Rafe’s lips curved into a smug grin as if he could read every thought running through your head.

“Really? ’Cause from where I’m standin’, you’ve been thinkin’ about me all night.” His breath was hot on your skin, and you hated how much you wanted to close the distance between you.

Your jaw clenched as you tried to muster the strength to tell him to fuck off, to leave you alone, but he was right. As much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise, he was still in your head, under your skin. The way his body hovered over yours—it was like nothing had changed. Like you hadn’t spent the last few months trying to forget him.

His hand found your hip, fingers pressing into your skin through your jeans, and you felt your body betray you. You cursed yourself silently as heat pooled low in your stomach. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, didn’t want him to know how much power he still had. But damn it, he knew. He always fucking knew.

“I hate you,” you muttered. It was a weak defense, and you both knew it.

Rafe leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “Yeah?” His voice was a low rasp that made your knees weak. “Funny, you never sound like you hate me when you’re under me.”

Your breath hitched, and you swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened.

“Don’t—”

But he was already kissing you, hard and rough like he owned you, like you were his and his alone.

And the worst part? You kissed him back. His hands were on you, grabbing at your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were pressed together. You wanted to shove him away, to slap that stupid look off his face—but your body had other plans.

This was so wrong, on so many levels.

You broke the kiss, gasping for air, but Rafe didn’t back off. He was staring down at you like you were his next meal, like he’d been starving without you.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you bit out, trying to cling to some sense of control.

Rafe’s grin widened, wicked and knowing. He leaned in again, lips ghosting over yours. “We both know that's a lie.”

You clenched your fists, frustrated beyond belief. Frustrated at him, at yourself, at how easy it was for him to pull you right back in.

“Fuck you,” you hissed, but the breathless tone in your voice told a different story.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, the corner of his mouth lifting in that infuriatingly sexy way he always did.

“Oh, you will.”

And God help you—you knew he was right. That fucking arrogance. It crawled under your skin, set your blood on fire in ways it shouldn’t.

You wanted to punch him, shove him, do something to wipe that smug expression off his face. But instead, you grabbed his shirt, pulling him back toward you, kissing him with all the fury you felt.

His lips crushed against yours, and it wasn’t gentle—there was nothing soft or sweet about this. It was all heat and frustration, months of unresolved anger bursting out in one chaotic, messy kiss.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, and you yanked him down, kissing him like you needed to get all of this out of your system. His hands roamed your body, possessive, rough, and you hated how much you craved him, like you were still his.

You weren’t his. You couldn’t be.

But every heated breath you took, every desperate movement your body made, was telling you otherwise.

When his lips moved down your neck, teeth grazing your skin, you gasped, tilting your head back as your resolve crumbled to pieces. He knew exactly what to do, how to make you fall apart, and it pissed you off that he still had that power.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you with ease, pressing you harder against the wall. Your breath hitched, the cold tile behind you making you gasp. His mouth was on you, hot and demanding, and for a moment, it was like nothing else mattered.

Not Elijah, not the fact that this was so damn wrong, not the months of hurt and anger you’d been holding onto.

There was only Rafe. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you like he was trying to stake his claim all over again. Like you hadn’t been apart at all.

"Tell me you don’t want this," Rafe muttered against your lips.

You bit down on your lip, trying to stop the words from spilling out. You did want this. You hated that you did, but fuck, you couldn’t lie—not to him, not to yourself.

“I—” You choked on the words, eyes meeting his, and for a split second, you thought maybe you’d find some kind of resolve, some way to pull yourself back from him.

“Fuck,” you gasped, head spinning as his hands explored your body like he had every right to. Like you hadn’t spent months trying to break free of him.

Rafe pulled back just enough to smirk down at you, breathless and flushed. “Yeah, baby. That's what I thought."

His hands gripped your ass hard enough to leave bruises, you let out a frustrated, muffled groan, your fingers still tangled in his hair. It was a lot longer than the last time you’d seen him.

You could feel every inch of his muscle through the thin fabric of your shirt. It was suffocating in the best way, and you hated yourself for how much you wanted it.

How much you wanted him.

“You’re such an ass,” you gasped between kisses, your breath hitching when his mouth moved down to your neck. You felt him grin against your skin, the bastard.

“You say that like it’s supposed to stop you.” His voice was rough, low in your ear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “But I don’t think it is.”

You were about to fire back, but his hands slid under your shirt, fingers grazing your skin, and whatever you were going to say was swallowed by the heat rushing through you. You hated that he still knew exactly how to get to you—how to pull you apart and leave you helpless against him.

“Rafe, this—” Your words were cut off when he bit down gently on your collarbone, sending a shockwave through your body. You clutched at his shirt.

“This what?” he taunted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes intense. “This a mistake? Because I don’t think that’s what your body’s saying.”

You just glared up at him, trying to catch your breath. You hated that he was right. Again.

Always.

“I told you,” you managed to say, though your voice was shaky, “this doesn’t mean anything.”

Rafe’s grip on you tightened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing yours as he whispered, “You’re still here, aren’t you?”

Your heart was racing, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. There was no denying it—you were here, and you weren’t leaving. Not yet.

Maybe not for a while.

And Rafe knew it.

His hands moved lower, fingers grazing the waistband of your jeans, and your breath hitched. This was dangerous territory. You knew that.

“Last chance,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. “You want me to stop?”

You should’ve said yes. You should’ve shoved him away and walked out of there with what little dignity you had left. But instead, you kissed him again—harder this time, angrier, like you needed to prove something to yourself. And maybe you did.

He yanked your shirt over your head in one rough motion, and you weren’t gentle either, tugging at his jersey until it was off and tossed aside. His hands were everywhere—on your back, in your hair, slipping under the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down with the same reckless urgency you’d been feeling since you laid eyes on him tonight.

“I hate you,” you whispered as your nails dragged down his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake.

Rafe just laughed, “No, you don’t,” he growled, his hands grabbing your hips as he settled you onto one of the locker room benches. “But keep telling yourself that.”

Your jeans hit the floor, and he wasted no time, his hands gripping your thighs as he positioned himself between your legs, pressing you down on the bench, his body heavy against yours.

Everything was messy, and rushed, like neither of you could get enough. Like you were trying to erase the months of distance, of frustration, in the way you kissed him back, bit his lip, tugged at his hair.

You hated how much you needed this.

“Still think this doesn’t mean anything?” Rafe rasped, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead against yours, breathless and wild.

You could barely think, let alone speak, but somehow, you managed to gasp out, “Positive.”

Rafe’s mouth moved down your neck, biting and sucking, leaving marks you knew would still be there tomorrow. “You’re such a fucking liar.”

It was wrong, it was toxic, but fuck—there was something about the way he touched you. And body, traitorous and weak, responded like it always had.

You were furious with yourself, with him, with everything, but the anger only made it all hotter, more intense.

His fingers brushed against the seam of your panties, teasing, barely touching you, but doing enough to have you drenched.

“You’re soaked,” he murmured, almost amused, slipping one finger under the fabric to run along your folds, barely dipping inside before pulling back out, "Was this all for Elijah?"

Sonofabitch.

“Stop talking,” you spat, but your voice was shaky, showing him the way you were falling apart under his touch. Rafe chuckled low in his throat, his finger moving back, this time slipping inside you, deep and slow.

You gasped, your head falling back as he began moving his finger, curling it inside you in just the right way. Your body responded immediately, hips jerking against him, desperate for more, but he took his time. He added another finger, stretching you out as his thumb rubbed slow circles over your clit, making your legs tremble beneath him.

He sped up, his fingers thrusting deeper, faster, hitting that spot inside you that made your mind go blank. “You’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? All those nights pretending you don’t think about me, but look at you now.”

Your nails dug into his shoulders, legs shaking as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, his fingers driving you closer and closer to the orgasm you so desperately needed.

His thumb pressed harder against your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you. “Tell me how bad you need this.”

“Rafe—” you gasped, your hips bucking wildly against his hand. The tension inside you was coiled so tightly, so close to snapping. You hated him, hated yourself, but the words slipped out anyway. “I need it.”

He groaned, pleased, and that was all it took. He thrust his fingers harder, faster, until your body gave in completely. You hadn’t had a proper orgasm in months. Nothing could get you off properly. Your walls clenched around his fingers the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your nails leaving half-moon marks in his skin as you trembled beneath him, lost in the sensation.

But he didn’t stop. He slowed down just enough to draw out every last bit of pleasure, his fingers still moving inside you as you rode out the aftershocks. When you finally caught your breath, he pulled his fingers out, his hand moving to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

He shoved his pants down, not bothering to take them off completely, just enough to free himself. Your breath hitched when you felt him against you—hard, hot, and ready—and every rational thought you had left disappeared in that moment. He lined himself up, teasing you just enough to drive you crazy.

Before you could respond, he pushed into you in one hard, deliberate thrust. Your gasp turned into a low, breathless moan as your back arched, your hands gripping his shoulders for something to hold on to. The sensation of him stretching you, filling you, was overwhelming, almost too much, but exactly what you needed.

Rafe didn’t give you time to adjust. He pulled back and slammed into you again, setting a punishing rhythm that left you breathless, gasping for air.

There was nothing gentle about it, nothing tender.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he fucked you like he was trying to remind you who you belonged to.

And you hated how good it felt.

“Shut up,” you hissed, but your body was betraying you as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about this every night since we ended.”

You couldn’t.

The words were right there, on the tip of your tongue, but instead, a moan escaped your lips as he hit that perfect spot inside you. Your body arched against his, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.

“Fuck,” you gasped, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure built, every nerve in your body on fire.

“That’s what I thought,” Rafe growled, his pace quickening, the force of his thrusts making the bench creak beneath you.

The sound of the bench, the way his body pressed into yours so perfectly, the heat of his breath against your neck—it all made it impossible to think straight. You should have been disgusted with yourself for letting it get this far, for letting him have this kind of control over you.

“I fucking hate you,” you managed to gasp out between breaths.

Rafe chuckled, “Yeah? Then why do you sound like that, huh?” His voice was taunting, filled with the arrogance you hated, “This pussy still mine, huh?”

You loved the way he grabbed you like you were his, even though you’d sworn, sworn, you were done with him.

You were still in love, weren’t you? Even after all the shit, all the screaming matches, the nights spent crying because of him. That was the part that pissed you off the most.

Before you knew, his hands were flipping you over so fast your knees hit the bench before you could react.

“Rafe—mmh,” you gasped, but your words died in your throat when he shoved you forward, pressing your chest flat against the cold wood of the bench. You barely had a second to brace yourself before his hands were gripping your ass, spreading you open for him.

He didn’t give you time to catch your breath. He was already dragging the head of his cock through your wetness, teasing, knowing how much you wanted it, even if you wouldn’t say it.

You squirmed, hating how desperate you felt, hating how your body responded to him like this. “Fuck, Rafe, stop teasing—”

“You want more?” he cut you off, voice dark and dripping with arrogance. He slapped your ass, just enough to sting, and you yelped, your back arching instinctively. “You’re gonna have to beg for it.”

"Like hell," you spat back.

He leaned forward, his chest pressing against your back, his mouth right by your ear.

“You can act tough all you want, but I know how much you want this,” he gritted out, his cock sliding against your folds again, torturously slow. “I know how much you need it.”

Before you could snap back, he thrust into you hard, filling you completely in one brutal stroke. You cried out, hands gripping the edges of the bench, and Rafe didn’t even give you a second to adjust. He pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in, faster this time, deeper.

The angle had you seeing stars. The bench was narrow, forcing your legs closer together, making everything tighter, more intense. You couldn’t stop the way your body responded to him, hips moving back to meet his thrusts even though your mind was screaming at you to get a grip.

His hands gripped the fat of your ass, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust, and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your moans and his ragged breathing.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned, his voice low and rough as he thrust into you, each movement hitting that perfect spot inside you, making your legs tremble. “So fucking tight for me.”

He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles that had you on the edge in seconds. You couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from your throat, your hips bucking wildly against him as the pleasure built, higher and higher until you felt like you might break apart.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” He rasped, his voice thick with lust. “I can feel it. Fuck.”

You tried to hold on, tried to keep some control, but it was useless. He knew exactly how to break you.

“I’m gonna come,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a whimper as you felt the pleasure rising fast, threatening to consume you.

“Do it,” Rafe growled, his fingers rubbing harder, faster. “Come for me, baby.”

And you did.

Your orgasm crashed over you so hard your vision blurred, your body shaking as the pleasure tore through you. You cried out, your walls clenching around him, and Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through it, relentless, brutal, until your entire body was trembling.

But he wasn’t done.

He pounded into you, his grip on your ass bruising, and you clung to him, nails digging into his broad shoulders as he fucked you against the lockers. The sound of metal creaking under the force of his thrusts only made it hotter, more desperate. You could feel another orgasm building, and you hated him for it—hated how easily he could pull them from you.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin. “You’ll always be mine.”

And you hated that some twisted part of you wanted it to be true.

Your legs tightened around him, pulling him impossibly closer, deeper, as if you couldn’t get enough of him.

And God, you couldn’t.

His grip on your ass was rough, bruising, but it only made you moan louder. You were on the verge again—your body still tingling from the last orgasm, but the way he moved inside you, the way his teeth grazed your neck, it had you spiraling toward another one, faster than you thought possible.

“Look at you,” Rafe groaned, lifting his head just enough to lock eyes with you. His pupils were blown wide with lust, a wild look on his face that sent a thrill down your spine. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you?”

You did. Because no matter how much you hated him, how much you wanted to hate him—there was a part of you that still belonged to him. A part of you that couldn’t walk away.

His lips were everywhere—on your neck, your collarbone, your jaw—and you couldn’t stop the sounds escaping your throat as he kept driving into you.

“Say it,” he growled, “Say you’re mine.”

You bit down on your lip, trying to hold it in, trying to fight back, but every nerve in your body was betraying you. The way his body fit against yours, the way he moved inside you, it was all too much. You were coming again, and you hated it.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and wild. “Say it.”

You wanted to spit in his face. But your body was telling a different story, hips bucking against him, legs tightening around his waist again.

“R-Rafe,” you whimpered, hating how weak you sounded, how desperate.

His smirk was infuriating, but fuck, it was hot.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his pace quickening, each thrust deeper than the last. “You’re mine. Always have been.”

And then he slammed into you one last time, hitting that perfect spot inside you, and the orgasm tore through you, leaving you gasping and trembling in his arms. You cried out, head thrown back against the lockers as your body shook with the force of it, your nails raking down his back.

Rafe groaned, his grip on you tightening as he rode out your orgasm, his movements growing sloppier, more erratic. His forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned, his hips jerking against yours as he finally let go, his release hitting hard. You felt the warmth of him spill inside you, as he held you against him, buried deep.

The second his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened, reality came crashing back in.

What the fuck had you done?

You pushed at his chest, trying to put some space between you, but he wasn’t letting go that easily. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his body pressed against yours like he still had something to prove.

“Get off,” you muttered, your voice weak, but sharper than before.

He chuckled, that low, arrogant sound that drove you crazy. “That’s not what you were saying five minutes ago.”

You shot him a glare, shoving at his chest again, harder this time. “I’m serious, Rafe. Move.”

Reluctantly, he let go, stepping back just enough for you to slide off the locker and onto shaky legs. You stumbled a bit, and Rafe’s hand shot out to steady you, but you jerked away from him, pulling your jeans back up with shaky hands.

He leaned against the locker, smirking like he hadn’t just torn your world apart all over again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

You wanted to scream at him, to throw something at his face. But instead, you grabbed your shirt off the floor, yanking it over your head as you tried to steady your breath.

“Good luck finding your date.”

Elijah. You’d come to the game with Elijah.

You shook your head as you zipped up your jeans and ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look somewhat presentable. You avoided looking at him, knowing that if you did, you’d see the smug satisfaction on his face that would only make you feel worse.

He pushed himself off the locker and took a step closer to you. You flinched, stepping back instinctively. “This can’t happen again.”

His smirk slipped for a moment as he looked at you. H e closed the distance between you in two strides, his hand reaching out to grab your wrist, pulling you toward him before you could react, “You’re choosing him?”

You yanked your wrist out of his grip, your heart racing as you forced yourself to take a step back, putting distance between the two of you, “You’re the one who chose yourself.”

His eyes darkened, searching your face, like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said. Maybe he thought he still had you wrapped around his finger.

“You’re the one who walked away,” you added, hating how your voice trembled, “So don’t act like I owe you anything.”

Rafe’s hand hovered like he was about to reach for you again, but he didn’t. “That’s not how I remember it.”

Your stomach twisted, “I’m not doing this anymore. I can’t—” You glanced at the door, feeling the weight of Elijah waiting for you. The one person who was good for you, who actually wanted to be with you.

But the worst part? You were still thinking about Rafe. Even after everything, you were still here, breathless, a mess because of him.

He took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours, and for a second, you thought he might apologize. Maybe say something real. But Rafe Cameron didn’t do apologies.

He raised an eyebrow, “Really?” His hand lifted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face in a gesture that was far too intimate, given everything that had just happened. “Then why are you still standing here?”

You flinched, stepping back. Why were you still standing there? You had no good answer, at least not one you were ready to admit.

“Go back to your date,” Rafe continued, his voice mocking now, “Pretend like he’s enough for you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the tears at bay. You couldn’t give him that satisfaction, not again. “You’re wrong.”

Rafe let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “I don’t think I am.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, throat tight, trying to push back the tears. This was all wrong. It was always wrong with Rafe, “Stop.”

It sounded like a plea—a plea for him to stop talking, stop looking at you like that, stop making you feel so small and yet so overwhelmed all at once.

Rafe sighed, stepping back just a fraction, and for a second, his gaze lifted. But it wasn’t enough. It never was. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he said, his voice softer now, like that made a difference.

“You always do,” you shot back, finally meeting his eyes. The truth slipped out before you could stop it, and there it was.

His jaw clenched, "I don’t mean to," he muttered, his voice low. "You know that."

"Does it even matter?" You felt the bitterness rise in your throat, along with something else—something fragile and painful. "You still do it. Whether you mean to or not."

Rafe stayed quiet, and you hated that silence. He didn’t have an answer. He never did, not for this. Your fingers fumbled with the zipper of your jacket, something to keep your hands busy so you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t say something you’d regret. But regret was already everywhere, suffocating you both.

“I thought we were past this,” you said finally, barely more than a whisper. “I thought I was past this.” But clearly, you weren’t. Clearly, some part of you was still here, with him, in the wreckage you’d both created.

He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated, torn. “It’s not that simple.”

"It should be." Your voice cracked. You hated how much this hurt. How much he could still hurt you.

It wasn’t fair. You weren’t supposed to still care this much. You weren’t supposed to still feel this.

Rafe sighed, taking another step back, giving you space. But it wasn’t the kind of space you wanted. It wasn’t the kind that would make things easier. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he admitted quietly, his eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t find.

You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. "I don’t want anything from you."

That was the truth, or at least it was supposed to be. You didn’t want anything he had to offer, not anymore. Not when every time you reached for it, it slipped through your fingers like water, leaving you emptier than before.

But there was still that ache, that feeling between you two, the one that dragged you back here even when you knew better. You wished you could kill it, cut it out of you like some infected part, but it was tangled too deep. And maybe a small part of you didn’t want to.

“You keep saying that,” he murmured, his voice almost tender, like he was seeing right through you. “But you’re still here.”

“I don’t know why,” you whispered, blinking back tears. Fuck, you hated this. Hated how vulnerable you felt, how easily he could unravel you, even now. “I shouldn’t be.”

He didn’t say anything, just stood there, watching you, like he was waiting for you to make the next move. Like he wanted you to figure it out on your own.

But you didn’t know how. You never did when it came to him.

"I’m sorry," he said, and this time, it felt real. There was no arrogance. Just Rafe, standing there, as broken as you felt. "I don’t know how to fix this."

You let out a bitter laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “There’s nothing left to fix, Rafe. We’ve already destroyed it.”

His face twisted, like he didn’t want to believe it. Like he was still holding onto some small piece of hope. "We could—"

"No," you cut him off, shaking your head. "We can’t."

You couldn’t keep doing this. The push and pull, the endless cycle of hurt and apologies that never really fixed anything. You couldn’t keep pretending that something would change, that he would change.

Because you both knew he wouldn’t.

He took a breath, exhaling slowly, and you could see it—the realization sinking in.

He knew it too. "I never wanted to lose you," he admitted quietly.

You swallowed hard, your chest tight. "You already did."

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron (by @itneverendshere)

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chrissv4mp · 13 hours ago

Text

𐙚 ᯓ stupid crush — ᡣ𐭩

she didn't understand why she felt like this, why she felt so... warm. especially when you were around. any time you even came within a 5 feet radius of her, she'd feel like she was going to explode. her cheeks would heat up, and she wouldn't know how to act, what to say—she didn't even know how to breathe when you were around her. which reminded her... you were lying right on her chest, and that only made the struggle to breathe worse. she hopes you didn't notice, but with the way your hand ran across her stomach so often, she was sure you might've caught on earlier than she expected. billie had been the one to invite you over after you got off your shift, and you happily accepted her invitation because she was never really the one to ask.

so, here you were, your bodies laying on her bed as a song from your shared playlist plays at a low volume from the speaker on her nightstand. the rain from outside hit her window, the quiet pitter-patter noises making the whole scene complete. it was something straight out of some classic friends-to-lovers film. her bedside lamp was on, lighting the room up just enough so that you could see her face and she could see yours. she was counting each of the little freckles on your face as you shut your eyes, relaxing into her. she ran a hand through your hair, her fingers scratching your scalp so softly, so carefully as she lulled you even further into a sleepy state of mind. she was praying you didn't hear the fast beating of her heart as she held you, not moving too much because she was scared that she'd do something wrong and you'd leave.

she grabbed her phone from her pocket, careful not to make too much noise as she unlocked her phone and went into her voice notes. she was sure you were asleep by now, your gentle breathing and quiet demeanor, a crystal clear sign. but, as she played the most recent one, titled 'stupid crush,' she regretted not making sure that you were actually asleep. her voice erupted from the speaker on her nightstand, and the first words that were heard were, "this is fucking stupid. i... love y/n. there was that—?" until billie finally came to her senses and paused it, the music resuming almost immediately. if her heart wasn't racing, it sure as hell was now. you stirred in your... sleep?—daze?—she didn't know, but now you were looking directly into her eyes with the... softest expression on your face. your eyes spoke for you, but billie was sure she was misreading the smile that began to creep onto your face. you were going to laugh. make fun of her—

"what's so 'fucking stupid' about that?" you giggle softly, voice slightly raspy and eyes glossed over with multiple emotions. all of which were for billie to decipher because she knew damn well she wasn't gonna get any answers from between your pretty pink lips until she finally admitted her feelings. but she didn't know what to say, and not even the music playing softly in the background calmed her anymore. she shut off her phone, tossing it to the empty side of the bed as she gulped quietly, "tell me, i'm quite interested." you sat up, sitting on her lap as you always did because you could never not be at least somewhat in her personal space. maybe that's part of what helped develop her crush on you. her stupid crush. on you. her best friend, of all people. she cleared her throat of the suffocating feeling as she sat up straighter, body tensing as she hopelessly murmured, "because you're my best friend. we're—y/n, we can't be—"

"who says we can't be together?" you scoff, a half-amused, half-annoyed look on your face. when she blinked, it was like you were a million miles closer to her, your lips inches apart, breath fanning over her face. she gulped again, eyes scurrying over to the empty side of the bed, biting on her lip nervously as she tried to think about what to say. it wasn't like she didn't want you to be her girlfriend, she was just... scared of messing it all up. when you cupped her cheek and turned her head back towards you, her eyes widened, "gimme one reason." you whisper, eyes darting down to her plump lips as you scoot closer to her body, shorts riding up your thighs. she doesn't respond, feeling frozen in the same song that just ended began to play again through the speaker, "billie," you murmur, lips only inches away from hers, almost brushing against each other as your hand travels down and wraps around the back of her neck, pulling her in closer. when your other hand comes up to her shoulder, she only then decides to speak, "because it'll be ten times harder to let you go."

"then you better hold me tight so that won't happen." you whisper before your lips crash softly against hers, pulling her closer by her neck. she doesn't pull away, your words slowly processing in her head as her own hands cautiously grab a hold of your waist, almost pulling you onto her lower abdomen in an attempt to get you closer. she wanted you two to be whole, even after all the doubt she spat out before. your words sunk deep into her heart, and now she didn't have a worry in the world. as long as you were with her, everything would be fine. she'd just have to hold you. close. tight. secure. as long as possible... and maybe even forever. she smirks against your mouth as she feels your tongue run across her lower lip, pulling away only a few inches as she opens her eyes, staring deeply into yours and never looking away, "so... i guess i should rename the voice note 'stupid girlfriend,' now?" she giggles as you roll your eyes, pushing her shoulder softly, "i think you're the stupid one."

𐙚 amiyaps : guys the landing of my flight scared the absolute SHIT out of me... cus tell me why we were dropping so fast bro 🙁

𐙚 tags : @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livialifesblog @devynscomet @her-favorite @cannibalsclass @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @meliciousmel13 @zayluvss @hrtsdollie

157 notes · View notes

wonderjanga · 9 hours ago

Text

I’m Not Brainwashed.

A blizzard hit Fawcett. It was a pretty harsh one too. His apartment doesn’t have heating too. So, Billy went on a journey to find a warm place to sleep.

First, he tried the corner owned by a nice old man. The man said he could bask in the store’s warmth until the store’s closing time.

Old Man: “I’m sorry, it’s just I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here overnight.”

Billy: “There’s no need to apologize, Mister. It’s fine.”

Old Man: “But it isn’t. I wish I could keep you longer but I can’t. Here.” *gives Billy some wrapped sandwiches* “Come back tomorrow. I’ll let you stay again.”

Billy: *small smile* “I’ll try. Thanks, Mister.”

Billy would definitely come back tomorrow, but for now he had to find a place to sleep for the night. This was when Billy made the unfortunate mistake of going to the Rock of Eternity to get out of the cold for a moment.

Billy: *plops down in front of the throne eating one of the sandwiches given to him* “Hmm… Where am I gonna go now?”

Billy didn’t know that those would be his last words as he dozed off at the rock.

A full rest later…

Billy: *stirs awake* “Where am I…? The rock? Geez did I fall asleep?” *feels a buzz from his pocket dimension and pulls out his JL comm and sees like 95 notifications* “-Oh my GODS.”

That’s how Billy found out the hard way never to sleep at the Rock. Turns out, to everyone else, he disappeared. For a WEEK. Damn (he feels like he deserves to curse in this situation) the Rock of Eternity and the weird way it makes time go by. Let’s see… He’d missed an emergency meeting, several messages from his friends, and an either concerned or subtlety threatening text from Batman. Okay. That’s concerning. Uh… You know what? Before he goes and talks to his friends, why doesn’t he go check on Fawcett first?

So, he left the rock, and guess what? The blizzard is still going. He’d be lying if he said this didn’t peeve him. Thankfully, it was daytime, so that means the Old Man would probably let him in the store again.

Old Man: “There you are! You had me worried.”

Billy: “Sorry.” *sounds ashamed*

Old Man: “There’s no need to apologize. It’s just, you said you would be back the next day, and you never came. I thought something had happened to you! I’ve been stress cooking ever since.” *puts a large bag of food into Billy’s hands*

Billy: “I didn’t mean to stress you. You don’t have to give me this.”

Old Man: “Yes I do.” *points to the spot Billy sat the day he had come in* “Now go sit and eat.”

Billy: “Yes, Mister.” *trudges over me eats, feeling bad for making the man worry*

Soon though, Billy had to leave again. He said goodbye to the Old Man and started walking to the blistering cold. He had to find another place to sleep. He looked up the now night sky. He had an idea. It was a stupid one, but it was an idea nonetheless.

The intercom over head announced Captain Marvel’s presence in the watchtower. Wally paused in eating the quadruple double triple quintuple sandwich he made himself. Wasn’t it like 10 pm in Fawcett or something? Cap almost never came to the Watchtower after seven unless it was for monitor duty. The speedster quickly finished his sandwich and decided to go see if something was wrong.

Eventually, he found the Captain near the sleeping quarters. Most members of the JL had one. That included Cap, but as far as Wally knew, Marvel hadn’t so much as stepped foot in that room.

“Cap, buddy! What’re you doing here so late?” Flash asked, causing Marvel to startle.

“Oh uh… I thought I’d get some sleep.” The Captain said, anxiousness rolling off him in waves.

“I thought you didn’t need to sleep?”

“Well, I don’t, but I still like to, y’know?” Marvel said, scratching the back of his neck.

Flash shook his head. “Not really.”

A small, out of place, awkward silence filled the hallway where they stood for a moment before Flash spoke up again, “Where have you been all week-”

“Night!” Cap cut him off, quickly entering the room and letting the door shut behind him, abruptly ending the conversation.

Wally stood there for a few moments. Okay… Something was definitely wrong with his buddy. Had the speedster done something to upset him? He turned to start walking away. He’d talk to his buddy later.

Wally got maybe seven feet away before he heard a loud crash that sounded like lighting and then loud alarms that started ringing throughout the Watchtower. Something about an intruder? Batman walked over to him. Where he came from, only god knows.

“Flash.” Bruce greeted him as he passed, stopping in front of the door Marvel disappeared into just a few moments before.

“Spooky, what’s going on?” Flash sped over to stand next to him.

”There’s an intruder in this room.” Batman replied, as soon as he finished speaking, another large crash of lightning could be heard. The alarm then stopped blaring. This made the Dark Knight pause and start tapping something on the tablet Wally just realized the other man was holding.

“Did something happen?” Wally asked, leaning over to try and see the tablet.

“The intruder is gone. The Watchtower’s also sustained two major electrical strikes that traveled through the tower, temporarily shut down anything in its way. They traveled to this room.” Bruce said.

It was at that moment, Marvel decided to make an appearance. He looked panicked, and when he registered Batman was standing in front of him, the panic seemed to increase. “Mister Batman Sir! Heeeeeeey…”

“Captain, there’s an intru-” Batman didn’t get to finish that sentence before Marvel interrupted him.

“Sorry Mister Batman Sir, but I really gotta be going.” Marvel said hurriedly before speed walking to the zetas. Wally and Bruce watched him go.

Billy should’ve known it was too stupid of an idea to work! He wanted to see if he could detransform and sleep in the bed of the room, but nooooooooo it just had to trigger the alarm. Billy wasn’t proud about interrupting so many (two) people today, but he really, really needed to go because as soon as Flash and Batman step into his room, they’re gonna see two dark lightning marks on the floor. Then they’re gonna try and ask questions. Then that’s gonna lead to Billy having to explain that he can summon lightning to change into a little kid. Then they’re gonna get mad Billy lied to them about being an adult. Then, they’re gonna try stopping him from being a hero, and from there his life as a hero and as Billy Batson will crumble to literal dust.

Around fifteen minutes after Marvel left… Flash was pacing, practically making trails in the ground, “Spooky, he was gone for a week! Not only that but he was acting weird and we got a notification of a security breach. This might sound crazy, but I think it might be that worm thing he mentioned.”

“Worm thing?” Batman asked, sounding incredulous. Wally was wondering why he found that of all the things they’ve seen and heard unbelievable.

“Yeah! He said one of his villains is this little worm that crawls into your ear and takes control your brain.” Flash said, one of his fingers doing a weird wiggling motion as if to resemble a worm.

“So you think he’s being mind controlled?” Supes asked, sounding super concerned. Oh right, he’s here too. He’d just gotten off monitor duty with J’onn. At the moment, the Martian was in the kitchen getting some snacks.

“Yes!” Flash exclaimed. “It could explain why he up and disappeared.”

“Flash, for all we know, he could’ve been gone due to a family emergency or something along those lines.” Batman spoke.

“Well… just to be safe…?” Supes started, sounding cautious as he trailed off and nodded to a nearby cabinet the three, or at least Clark and Bruce, knew housed bug spray.

That was how they ended up cornering Marvel in Fawcett, Superman restraining the man while Batman sprayed bug spray in his face and ears. Meanwhile Flash was standing to the side nervously, holding a jar in case a certain green worm actually crawls out of Marvel’s ear.

So yeah, today was not Billy’s day, let alone week. Also, it turned out that there was a magical creature that was causing the blizzards. He proceeded to promptly beat it up for all the trouble and embarrassment it inadvertently caused him.

Don’t ask why I stopped formatting the dialogue the way I normally do for a couple seconds. I don’t even know. That’s actually why I didn’t post around eleven like I normally do. It was taking a while.

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #shazam #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #batman #bruce wayne #wally west #the flash #superman #clark kent

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fear-is-truth · 2 days ago

Text

⋆𐙚 ₊ no nut november .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ kyle spencer ‧ jimmy darling ‧ james march ‧ kai anderson ‧ peter maximoff

tate langdon ── 11/04

acts like he’s on board with the challenge at first, but it doesn’t take long for the strain to start showing. he’s not used to this level of restraint—especially when it’s you asking him.

managed to make it a few days but is visibly frustrated whenever he sees you, especially if you’re walking around wearing his sweater, licking a lollipop or basically just breathing and existing.

makes whiny complaints about how pointless this is. absolutely tries to cop a feel here and there.

after you caught him jerking off into your panties, he tries to convince you to just drop the whole idea so he can fuck you properly.

if all else fails, tate will try to initiate when you’re half-asleep. you’ll wake up to find him sidling closer, hands roaming, whispering in your ear about how “you can’t really mean this.”

it’s only day four, and tate’s already driving himself (and you) crazy. he trails behind you through every room in the house, whining about how “this whole challenge is fucking stupid.” and “what’d you expect me to do when you’re at school, huh? can’t even jerk off,” he complains, dragging his feet as he follows you into the kitchen. you laugh a little, shaking your head as you reach for a glass of water.

“it’s not that hard, tate. you’ll be fine,” you tell him, but you can feel his eyes trailing down, settling on your legs and the edge of your sundress.

“yeah?” before you can react, he’s wrapping his arms around your waist, pressing his chest to your back and pulling you close. he’s warm, and his hands slide down to rest on your hips, pulling you back against him. you can feel him grinding slowly, enough to make you feel the hard outline of his cock press against your ass.

“tate,” you warn, but he just huffs in indignation, burying his face in your shoulder. “you’re killing me, is that what you want?” he whines, but you reach back and give him a gentle shove, slipping out of his arms. “you’re already dead, tate.” he watches you, eyes shiny with hurt and longing before shoving his hands in his pockets and sulking off.

kit walker ── 11/15

kit genuinely tries, especially since you’re the one who proposed the challenge, but it’s hard. he’s always been affectionate and has a naturally high sex drive, so this test of willpower isn’t easy for him.

he’s restless and a little grumpy, occasionally making passing comments like, “don’t know how you expect me to do this” with a plaintive sigh that make it clear he’s barely holding it together.

kit has been sitting at the kitchen table for the past half hour, cigarette in hand, eyes locked on you the entire time as you’re working on a blueberry pie. it’s been two long weeks of restraint, and he’s been doing his best to keep his promise—but right now, watching you bustle around while wearing a apron, he feels his patience slipping.

finally, he stands, moving to the window above the sink and pulling open the blinds just enough to check the yard. outside, the kids are laughing and running, entirely preoccupied. satisfied, he lets the blinds fall back into place, turning his attention fully on you.

you look over your shoulder as he steps up behind you, that barely concealed hunger in his eye. “you hungry?” you ask, feigning innocence as you press the last bit of dough into the pie tin. he huffs a low laugh, his hands already slipping around your waist. “mhm. you can say that. not for pie, though.” he murmurs, voice vibrating against your cheek.

you raise an eyebrow, half-smiling as you remind him, “i thought you were trying to hold out.” kit lets his hands settle on your hips, pulling you back against him. “i was,” he says, dropping his head to press a kiss just below your ear, “but i don’t think i can keep it up anymore. i’ve been watchin’ you all afternoon, and all i can think about is you.”

his lips trail slowly along your neck as his fingers trace along the curves of your ass. “the kids’ll be fine outside,” he coos. “think it’s time i tapped out of this whole challenge,” and before you can protest, his mouth is on yours, firm and warm, every bit of his two-week restraint unraveling.

pre death .ᐟ kyle spencer ── completed

self control king. his frat brothers are amazed he’s lasted, even with all their attempts to sabotage him.

they constantly send him twitter porn links, show him porn mags or try to bribe you to help make him crack. but kyle doesn’t even budge.

you still have your daily cuddling routine, and he eats you out regularly because he’s a selfless boyfriend.

kyle’s fraternity decided to make a big deal out of the “no nut november trend”. they all took the challenge together, but one by one, his frat brothers dropped out, and by week four, kyle’s the last man still standing. you watch your boyfriend with a mix of admiration and slight frustration. it’s not that you want him to give in; it’s just… maybe you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to, at least a little.

you’re sitting with him in his room one night, the faint buzz of a party downstairs, but kyle’s paying it no mind. he’s stretched out on his bed, flipping through a class notebook, looking completely unbothered. you watch him for a moment, then sighs.

“kyle, i don’t know how you do it,”

he smiles, rubbing the back of his neck. “what can i say? i’ve got a will of steel.” he glances back down at his notes.

“so… when december starts, are you still planning on being all celibate and zen?”

he chuckles, his cheeks going a little pink. “not gonna lie, i’m already counting down the hours,” he admits, leaning in closer. “because the second november ends, i’m not holding back. if i survived this month, trust me—destroy dick december will be a breeze.”

you can’t help but laugh, and he leans in to give you a quick kiss, his hand finding yours. “but hey,” he says, voice softer, “it’s only easy because you make it worth waiting for.”

jimmy darling ── 11/06

initially tries to go along with the challenge because he respects you and doesn’t want to disappoint you.

but he’s also someone who thrives on touch, so it’s practically torture for him from the start.

you’ll catch him staring at you, and he gets visibly antsy, especially if you’re wearing something cute or revealing.

six days. that’s how long jimmy manages to last. he tries to keep his promise to you, he really does, but it’s no use. every time he sees you around the camp, especially when you’re dressed up in a leotard for a performance or just leaning close to help him with something, he gets that look in his eyes—hungry, smoldering, and unabashedly lustful.

it’s late, and you’re walking past jimmy’s caravan while carrying a basket of laundry when he finally snaps. he’s been watching you from afar, arms crossed and brows furrowed, looking like he’s pissed off about something. when you catch his eye, he’s already standing up and moving toward you like a missile.

“i can’t take this anymore, doll,” he whined, his breath reeking with the unmistakable smell of alcohol. “six days—feels like six damn years.” you laugh, shaking your head.

“jimmy, i told you it was just a challenge,” you tease, trying to keep a straight face. but he’s not having it. his hands settle on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest before he leans in, forehead resting against yours. “don’t care about any stupid fucking challenge. only care about you. i need you so bad,”

afterward, jimmy lets out a deep, satisfied sigh, resting his chin on your shoulder as you both try to catch your breath. slowly, he lets you slide back down to the ground, his arms loosening just enough for you to find your footing, though he doesn’t fully let go. you feel his lips press a lingering kiss to your neck, a lazy smirk spreading across his face.

“guess i lost,” his thumb rubbing small circles into your waist. he leans in closer, brushing his nose against yours. “but hell if it wasn’t worth it.”

james patrick march ── 11/24

james has self-control in spades, especially when it comes to his (ex) wife, elizabeth, who has often denied him for months at a time. so, he actually handles this challenge far better than you’d expect.

he channels his frustration elsewhere, like into his “hobbies” (aka his killing sprees around the hotel), which spike significantly during this time. murder brings him a similar orgasmic thrill, and he relies on that to keep himself satisfied.

despite the restraint, he never makes you feel pressured. james will hold your hand, kiss you chastely on the cheek, and even give you sweet little compliments, but that’s the extent of it.

you look up just as james steps into the room, wiping his hands with a bloodstained handkerchief, black eyes alight with the usual post-slaughter exhilaration. “ah, my darling,” he greets, voice smooth yet edged, like a blade still warm from a kill. your gaze falls to his hands, and he notices, lifting them for his own inspection. “a bit messier tonight, i’ll admit,” he murmurs with a sigh, dabbing at his knuckles, though the effort seems half-hearted.

“not even a night of indulgence can quiet the… urges you stir in me.”

he steps closer, fingers brushing your cheek, leaving the faintest trace of crimson on your skin. his hand lingers, flexing, as if he’s holding himself back. you smirk, leaning in to brush a kiss to his lips, there’s a metallic tang to it. james shudders, his hand bracing itself on the back of the couch, jaw clenching as if he’s struggling to restrain himself.

“is it really that difficult? i think you’re being a bit dramatic, dear.” the lilting coo of your voice, the sadistic intent behind it makes his cock twitch painfully in his trousers.

“you’re… tormenting me, truly,” he sighs in frustration. “this damnable month. all the blood in the world can’t satisfy what i truly crave.”

cult leader .ᐟ kai anderson ── completed

while some people might perceive him as a total sex fiend, kai has the self-discipline to pull this off easily, and he sees it as an experiment in control, something to elevate his focus.

claims that refraining from ejaculation is actually a tool for enhancing testosterone and will lecture the entire cult on the “benefits” of nnn. also brings up the heaven’s gate cult’s abstinence rule as a form of enlightenment and compares his self-control to “channeling energy for a higher purpose” (everyone knows that’s a load of bullshit)

you start trying to tempt him halfway through, wearing something a bit more revealing around him, but he just smirks, unaffected. the challenge you proposed to him feels almost trivial, which makes it all the more frustrating for you.

however, the second it’s december 1st, he flips. he’s at your door right at midnight, and you won’t be able to walk for a week.

kai’s taking no nut november in stride—too much stride, actually. you were the one who suggested it, but now his calm, unaffected attitude is starting to get under your skin. every time you attempt to seduce him, he gives no reaction.

when kai walks in your shared bedroom, you’re lounging in bed, legs spread wide open, wearing nothing but a tight white turtleneck sweater. he glances over, eyebrow raised. for a second, his gaze lingers on your hardened nipples straining against the fabric. then he just smirks, looks you up and down, and goes to grab his bottle of adderall without a word.

“really?” you ask, annoyed, but he just snorts. “nice try,” he says over his shoulder as he walks away. the days drag on, each one more frustrating than the last as he remains completely unmoved, almost like a silent “fuck you”.

finally, on november 30th, you’ve just about resigned yourself to defeat. you’re in bed, pulling the covers over yourself, when you hear footsteps in the hallway. you glance at the clock—it’s just turning from 23:59 to midnight, the start of december. you barely have a second to process it before your bedroom door swings open, and there he is, standing in the doorway with that same dark look in his eyes, only this time, there’s nothing holding him back.

“miss me?” he asks as he steps inside and closes the door behind him.

peter maximoff ── 11/08

he’ll try every trick in the book—whining, pouting, seduction, and even half-joking about “what if my balls burst?” “you’re actually gonna let me suffer like this?”

on day eight, peter’s pretty much losing his mind. he’s sprawled out on the couch, groaning dramatically every few minutes, tossing his head back as if he’s in physical pain.

“this is torture,” he complains, looking at you with big, desperate eyes. “what’d i ever do to deserve this? my balls are gonna burst,”

you just laugh, shaking your head as you unwrap a lollipop. “you’ve gone without it for a day over a week, peter. you act like it’s been a lifetime,” you tease, popping the candy into your mouth with a grin.

his eyes follow the movement, and his whole expression changes, growing intense in a way that’s unlike his usual playful self. for a second, he’s silent, watching you suck on the lollipop like it’s the final straw. “okay, i’m not gonna survive this,” he mutters, voice a bit rough.

in the blink of an eye, he’s disappeared, zipping down the hall. you hear the bathroom door slam shut, followed by a muffled, frustrated groan from the other side.

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