#i like to hope i come off as approachable

[fireinmoonshot]

your fiyero | fiyero tigelaar x reader

Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader Summary: Ever since Fiyero Tigelaar started at Shiz University, he found himself fascinated by you – the one student who didn't care about him. When he notices you starting to struggle with something, he'll do anything to make sure you're okay. Warnings: Mentions of fainting, falling over, academic stress/burn out Word Count: 2.2k A/N: I've seen Wicked (the show) three times now with the amazing Australian cast that's currently touring and I fell totally head over heels with Fiyero, and then yesterday I saw the movie and fell even more in love with Fiyero and so I had to write for him. I do intend to write more for him, especially if other people want to read more! He's so fun to write for and definitely a challenge compared to some other characters I've written for in the past. I hope you all enjoy! 💗

It’s not difficult to sense the presence of Fiyero Tigelaar behind you as you leave Doctor Dillamond’s classroom, shoving your books into the bag over your shoulder. With the way the students heading into the classroom are staring at someone behind you, it’s quite obvious who they’re staring at. Everyone at Shiz University wants Fiyero Tigelaar. 

Everyone, that is, except you.

“Classes are over, you know?” Fiyero’s voice comes from behind you as you round the corner, heading down the staircase leading to the courtyard. “You don’t have to rush off.”

Irritatingly, the fact that you can’t particularly care less about wanting Fiyero Tigelaar makes himwant you. He usually isn’t the type. If someone doesn’t like him – something he’s actually yet to experience – he would just let it slide. Why waste his energy? But ever since he’d started at Shiz and met you, he’d found himself unable to leave you alone. 

“I know,” you glance back at him over your shoulder. “But some of us actually want to study and spend their time here learning, Tigelaar.”

Fiyero hurries his steps a little so he’s walking alongside you. “Did you miss the part where I said it was my job to corrupt my fellow students when I started here? It’s never too late, darling.” He flashes a grin your way.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him, right at the same time you almost miss a step and stumble a little. Fiyero is quick, catching your elbow to help steady you. You don’t look at him as you steady yourself, meaning you miss the look of worry in his eyes.

“Are you all right?”

You clear your throat and shake off his grip. “Consider me corrupted by your presence.” 

With that, you make a beeline away from him and you’re glad to notice that he doesn’t attempt to follow you. You highly doubt that he’s going to follow you all the way to the library. Fiyero and the library have never exactly gone hand in hand. 

~~

The next time Fiyero bothers you, you’re sat on one of the benches by the gardens. There’s a book in your hands and he can see you staring intently at it as he saunters over to you. It’s almost like he’s approaching a wild bird or something, he thinks. If he moves too quickly, he’ll frighten you and scare you away. It’s the last thing Fiyero wants to do.

He’s a few steps away from you when you look up from your book and meet his eyes. His face breaks into a smile as he moves the last few steps and takes the spot beside you on the bench. You turn to look at him, your eyebrows raised. 

“Now, don’t say I’m interrupting your study,” he begins. “That book is most definitely not in the curriculum. And yes, I did actually take the time to look the curriculum up after I saw you reading here the other day, if you can believe it.”

For a few moments, you only stare at him. Fiyero, for the first time probably ever, finds himself actually a little uncomfortable at your unwavering gaze. It surprises him. He’s never the type of person to feel uncomfortable. He’s confident in almost every situation.

You let out a sigh. “It may not be in the curriculum, but you’ve interrupted me nevertheless, Tigelaar.”

“Apologies,” he says, with a small smirk. “Am I corrupting you even more with my presence?”

“Something like that.” You close your book and sit it on the small space of bench beside you. You had actually just been reading the same page over and over for the last twenty minutes and trying to convince yourself to stop overthinking things. 

You had so much studying to do, so much to learn and so many assignments to do and so little time to do it all. It was probably a little counterproductive to be sitting outside, reading a book and doing none of those things, but if you didn’t try and have a break from them all, you were pretty sure you were going to burn yourself out, which was the last thing you needed. It would have helped if you’d actually been able to relax and enjoy your book, though.

“Is it any good? Your book. Not that I’d read it, of course,” Fiyero grins.

You try your best to conceal your amusement. “I’d offer to lend it to you but, as you said, you wouldn’t actually read it so… I’ll keep it safe with me. I doubt the Winkie Prince knows how to properly take care of books if he can’t read them.”

Fiyero gasps jokingly. “I’ll have you know I can read, I just choose not to. I prefer to fill my brain with much more useless things. That way, I don’t have to think. It’s a peaceful way to live, my darling.” 

You shake your head, this time unable to keep a smile off of your face. Fiyero likes the sight of it. It strangely makes his heart beat a little faster. He can’t actually remember the last time he saw you smiling… not that he’s been keeping track. 

“How about you join me?” He offers. “No more studying for the rest of the day and no more thinking? I’m positive I could find something we could do to fill the time.” 

The reminder of studying, however, brings you back to reality after you small moment of joking with Fiyero. You reach down and grab your book before standing up and turning to face Fiyero, who is looking at you with slight concern in his eyes at your sudden movement.

“I can’t,” you say simply. “I’ve been reading all morning and there is a lot I have to do. I’ll see you around, Tigelaar.”

He watches you with furrowed eyebrows as you walk away from him, clutching your book to your chest and heading in the direction of the library. Fiyero shakes his head and lets out a small laugh. He really thought today would be the day he’d win you over.

~~

A week goes by without Fiyero even getting to utter a word to you. He sees you, though, fairly often around the school. In the courtyard, in the library (where he definitely didn’t go specifically looking for you), in history class and in the dining hall. But every time he’s thought to approach you, you’ve disappeared before he could even make his move. It’s on the seventh day when he notices that something is different about you.

You’re coming out of the library, carrying several books and what looks like a stack of papers in your hands when you trip. Fiyero isn’t quick enough to cross the courtyard and get to you in time to stop your fall. He does, however, take off at a run to be by your side as you start collecting all of the scattered pieces of paper and books that had fallen out of your grasp.

“It’s all right, Tigelaar. You don’t have to help me,” you mutter, trying to shove books into your already overfilled bag. “It’s a Friday night. I’m sure you’ve got other places to be.”

Fiyero, truthfully, does have other places to be. He’s been invited to the Ozdust Ballroom by nine separate people today. But how can he leave you to just clean all this up by yourself? He can see just by the look on your face that you’re utterly exhausted.

“I do,” he says honestly. “But I’ll help you with this first.”

He’s surprised when you suddenly stop putting things in your bag and when he looks up, he finds you staring at him again. It makes him uncomfortable in the same way he felt last week when you’d looked at him in a similar way. 

“Okay,” you sigh. 

Your lack of energy in fighting him is the second thing to make Fiyero realise something is wrong.

After the two of you finish picking up all of the things you’d dropped, the both of you stand. Fiyero opens his mouth to say something when he notices you start to sway. He’s quicker this time, moving to catch you before you fall. His arm wraps around your waist to keep you steady, while his other hand takes the book bag off your shoulder and moves it straight onto his. He’s surprised by how heavy it is. 

“Woah, darling, what’s going on?” Fiyero looks down at you as you blink and push yourself away from him. “Hey, be careful, okay? I think you were just about to faint.”

You shake your head. “I just stood up too fast, that’s all.” You know the words are a lie, and you can tell that Fiyero knows that as well. First, he’d seen you trip coming out of the library, then he’d caught you when you’d almost fainted… you can’t hide it from him. That much becomes crystal clear immediately.

“Let’s get you somewhere you can sit down, okay?” Fiyero begins. “May I?” He gestures to you, asking silently if he can wrap an arm around you to support you incase you fall over again. 

You nod and allow him to guide you just around the corner into the small seating area off to the side of the library. It’s dark, the lanterns not being lit yet despite the fact that the sun had gone down over twenty minutes ago.

“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy,” you say sheepishly. “That’s twice you’ve stopped me from falling in the last two weeks… I suppose I should say thank you, Fiyero.”

Fiyero sits you down gently on the bench and sits your book bag down on the ground. He crouches down in front of you and reaches up to take your hands in his. He’s surprised when you don’t immediately pull away from him. “I don’t think you’ve ever called me by my first name before.”

“Oh,” you think on it for a second, trying to ignore the warm feeling of his hands and how comforting it is. “I guess I haven’t. Sorry, Tigelaar.”

“No, no,” Fiyero shakes his head. “Don’t go back to that. I like when you call me Fiyero.”

“Well, I suppose it is your name,” you offer a small smile.

“There’s that gorgeous smile,” Fiyero smiles back at you and squeezes your hands. “Now, are you gonna tell me why you almost just fainted on me and why you’re clumsier than you usually are, darling?”

You stay silent for a few moments and just when Fiyero begins to think that you might just brush him off and try to make a quick exit like you did last week, you start to speak.

“I haven’t really been sleeping well lately,” you admit quietly. “I’ve had so much work to do, I fell behind on my assignments and I took on some extra work from Doctor Dillamond and… despite my best efforts, I guess I let myself get a little burnt out.”

Fiyero looks at you with his eyes full of pity and you hate it. 

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “that’s not important. Why would you care?”

Your attempt to make light of the situation fails spectacularly, judging by the look that Fiyero gives you afterwards. You’ve never seen him look that unimpressed before. 

“Of course I care,” he says, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Why, though?” You can’t help but ask. “Why are you so fixated on me?”

Fiyero sighs and moves to sit beside you, letting go of your hands in the process. “If you’ll allow me to be honest with you for a moment,” he starts, “I suppose… you’re the only person at Shiz that doesn’t treat me like the perfect Winkie Prince that everyone thinks I am. You’re the only person that doesn’t think I’m perfect, and half the time you act like you can’t stand to be around me, and for some reason that only makes me want to be around you more.” 

“Are you not the perfect Winkie Prince?” You ask.

Fiyero grins. “Oh, not in the slightest, darling. But let’s keep that between us. I’ll keep your secret if you keep mine. How does that sound?” 

You don’t even try to hide the smile that comes to your face at his words. “You promise you won’t tell anyone about what happened today?”

“I promise,” he nods. “But only on one condition: you tell Doctor Dillamond you can’t complete the extra work you signed up for and you take a break to make sure you get plenty of rest before diving into your other assignments. I’m sure I can sweet talk some of the Professors if you need help.” 

He smiles as you hit him with the same look as before, but for the first time, he doesn’t find himself feeling uncomfortable at the sight of it. Now, he finds it slightly amusing and incredibly endearing. He has always found you endearing, he supposes.

“Sweet talking my Professors will not be necessary,” you chuckle. “But okay. It’s a deal. And I’ll keep your secret too. You can continue to be the perfect Winkie Prince to everyone… except me.”

Fiyero laughs. “I’ll just be your Fiyero, then.”

“My Fiyero?” You repeat after him, eyebrows raised. 

He ignores the way his heart beats faster at the sound of those words coming out of your mouth. 

“Yes, your Fiyero,” he hums. 

“Everyone will think that you finally corrupted me after all this time,” you joke, voice teasing. “I’ll just be like everyone else at Shiz. Part of the Fiyero Tigelaar fan club.”

Fiyero fixes you with a look. “Oh, darling. You could never be like everyone else.” 

[dreamscapeee222]

can I ask for arcane character x reader where the reader looks super weak but they are really good at fighting. Like scarily good at fighting, with their hands or weapons they are an expert at it. Also the arcane characters getting to see the reader fight for the first time

A/n: I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you like it ^^

Your skill in fighting surprises them

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

Vi’s always been protective, stepping in front of you at the first sign of danger. She doesn’t think twice about it—it’s instinct. You’ve let her take the lead before, but today, it’s different.

When you both get cornered in an alley by some enforcers-turned-mercenaries, Vi cracks her knuckles, ready to handle them alone. You step forward before she can.

Her smirk drops the second you expertly disarm the first guy with a smooth twist of your wrist and take down the second with a single well-placed strike. She just stands there, jaw slack. "Where did you learn that?" she blurts out, half-impressed, half-in disbelief.

Later, she keeps sneaking glances at you, still processing what happened. The admiration is clear, though, and she doesn’t let you forget it. "I mean, I could’ve handled it... but you? That was hot."

Jinx

Jinx loves chaos, so when a bar brawl breaks out, she’s gleeful. She’s about to jump in, but you gently nudge her back, claiming she doesn’t need to dirty her hands this time.

"Pfft, you? What are you gonna do—talk them to death?" She laughs... until you flip a guy over your shoulder like it’s nothing.

Her jaw drops, and for a moment, she just stares as you take down one attacker after another with precision.

Once the dust settles, she starts cackling. "Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?! Do you know how much fun we could’ve had?!"

She spends the rest of the week pestering you to teach her your moves, mimicking your techniques in exaggerated, cartoonish ways. But there’s also genuine admiration in her eyes, a spark of respect she hadn’t shown before.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s sharp, and she prides herself on reading people well. But even she didn’t see this coming.

When a dangerous situation arises during a sting operation, she positions herself in front of you, determined to keep you safe. You calmly tell her, "I’ve got this," and she almost laughs.

The disbelief is instant when you swiftly take out two opponents before they even reach you. Your movements are fluid, efficient—trained.

Once the situation is under control, she approaches you, still stunned. "You’ve been hiding this from me?"

There’s a soft warmth in her tone, though, as she brushes off your shoulder. "Impressive doesn’t even begin to describe it. I underestimated you... and I don’t do that often."

Ekko

Ekko’s always taken the weight of the Undercity on his shoulders, thinking he has to protect everyone. Including you.

So when a fight breaks out near the Firelights’ base, he immediately positions himself in front of you, yelling at you to "Stay back!"

You wait until his back is turned before stepping in, quickly neutralizing the immediate threat. Ekko spins around, only to see you finishing off the last attacker with a spinning kick.

"Wait... what just happened?" He’s half-dazed, running a hand through his hair.

Afterward, he’s teasing but in awe. "So, what, you’ve just been holding out on us this whole time? Could’ve told me—I’d have put you on patrol duty ages ago."

Jayce

Jayce is protective by nature, so when you two are ambushed during a Council event, his first instinct is to shield you. He swings his hammer, shouting at you to stay behind him.

You don’t listen, darting past him to engage the attackers. Your moves are sharp, calculated—every punch, every dodge perfectly timed.

Jayce is stunned, barely managing to swing his hammer as he watches you take down three attackers in the time it takes him to handle one.

"Where did you learn to do that?!" he asks, his voice a mix of admiration and shock.

Later, he’s still reeling, but he’s impressed. "You’ve been hiding some serious skills. Guess I should start training with you, huh?"

Viktor

Viktor never thought of you as someone who’d be involved in fights, given your calm and composed demeanor.

When a group of thugs bursts into his lab, demanding Hextech secrets, he tries to usher you to safety, assuming you’d be defenseless.

But when one of them charges at you, you step in without hesitation, taking them down with ease. Viktor just stands there, stunned, as you dismantle the entire group with skill and precision.

He’s quiet afterward, watching you as if seeing you for the first time. "You’ve always been full of surprises," he says, his tone soft and thoughtful.

There’s a newfound respect in his gaze, mixed with a quiet curiosity. He doesn’t push you for details, but you can tell he’s impressed.

Mel

Mel’s always been intrigued by you, drawn to your quiet strength. But she never expected this.

During a diplomatic meeting gone wrong, when assassins storm the room, she assumes you’ll rely on her guards for protection.

Instead, you handle the situation with a grace and efficiency that leaves her speechless. Your movements are precise, almost artistic, as you disarm the attackers and protect her without breaking a sweat.

When it’s over, she approaches you with a slow, impressed smile. "You’ve been keeping secrets from me," she says, her tone teasing but warm.

There’s a new glint in her eye after that, a mix of admiration and intrigue. She loves knowing there’s more to you than meets the eye, and she doesn’t hide how much it fascinates her.

Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.

[17020]

teehee i love you too 🫶🏼🫶🏼 for the character maybe you could write hcs for shoto 🧐🧐

hiii bibi !! thank you so much for supporting my homework!! here's some headcanons for shoto!! fem! reader

SHOTO TODOROKI . . . THE PR NIGHTMARE!

— shoto is dense and his pr is ass, right? so imagine the first time he got approached by another girl while dating you and unknowingly gets the girl's hopes up and comes home with her number. and you lecture him on the fact that she just made a move on him, so the next time he’s approached like that, he’s dead serious when he goes “oh… my girlfriend told me to not accept any phone numbers.”

— speaking on being dead serious, shoto takes your every desire seriously. whether you’re joking or not, even if it’s something simple like “god i’m craving bread today” and suddenly you’re stocked with bread for the next month. he’s become attentive to detail (though it took him some time) so once he picks up on the fact that you like something be prepared.

— he is the media’s greatest nightmare because of his honesty. his hot single persona went away in an instant when he got interviewed and immediately mentioned that his biggest supporter and his motivation was his girlfriend. he has to be dragged away for media training so next time he’s asked about you, shoto can cut cut himself off with “uhh.. no comment?”

— and when he’s ALLOWED to post you and talk about you (which happens eventually) he’s always posting pictures you do not approve of. you have to create a shared photo folder called “approved <3” so he can choose pictures from there. if not, you’ll look like a gremlin on his socials.

[thetadispatcher]

Strasky glanced at Rook then back to Peter, they were nearly the same person if not for a few minor differences. Strasky knew he couldn't do the same type of work Peter was, nor would he be comfortable with it, but he had a feeling that was just due to his personal experiences. "Sometimes it feels more like I attract troublesome things, but I can live with that." He felt nothing would ever live up to what he'd experienced on PATHOS-II, so he was fine with whatever mess he found himself in. "And there's nothing wrong with being friendly, that's the best way to meet very interesting people." Or in Peter's case it was androids mainly if the home's residents were anything to go by.

But neither Strasky nor Peter felt like speaking on the subject with each other as they both still found it odd and a little unsettling to think they were practically the same person. And Peter had made it clear to Strasky he wasn't ready to approach the subject with how quickly he'd brushed it off and found something to busy himself, something he recognized as a tactic to prevent any possible thoughts on the subject by means of a distraction that took most of his attention.

"Shouldn't be too hard to reformat them so they can operate on an android's brain. I'd just have to see the one first." Peter paused as he noticed Strasky react to what he'd said, something which he felt was a little concerning but he wasn't going to comment on it yet, not until he had more information.

"But I have worked on enough custom and limited release androids to say that building one from scratch wouldn't be an issue." He had managed to get his hands on the equipment necessary to build custom parts for androids, so thankfully he wouldn't have to rely on any outside help from any former Cyberlife employees for the parts.

Dan and Peter both turned to look at Nines when Willow mentioned the authorities, the RK900 glanced at them before his LED turned yellow and his eyes took on a far away look. The LED returned to a calm blue after a moment as he refocused on the two looking at him. "I have found no law that prohibits what is being requested. So the work would be perfectly legal." Nines responded to the unasked question, knowing that was the reason they'd turned to look at him.

"Even if it wasn't, it probably wouldn't be the worst illegal thing I've done." Peter giggled as he turned his attention back to Dan who gave him a knowing look. "Tricking a Cyberlife employee and buying an android at fourteen is probably way more illegal then sticking a digital brain into an android." He smiled at Dan as he hugged the PL600's head, the android gently patting his arm in response.

"He really means a lot... How come?" Strasky asked, he decided it was time he asked as the relationship between the two was clearly familial, but he couldn't figure out just what role Dan fit into in Peter's mind.

"Well, I may call the androids here my friends, I only call two my brothers. Dan is one of them, basically the older brother I didn't know I wanted." Peter answered happily, showing he really didn't have an issue with putting an android into such a special role as most humans would. "Sure, Dan's only four years old, but he's way more of an older brother then a younger one."

Strasky nodded, he knew there was more to the story of how and why Dan was acquired, he just wasn't sure if anyone else cared to know so he decided not to press further. But after all he had seen with the relationship between androids and humans, he was happy to see one where both felt like they were equals.

"Cyberlife has already done something kinda like what you're probably thinking anyways. GV200 looks exactly like Kamski's half brother Gavin, his entire existence was basically being made in the hopes of Gavin running into him and getting upset about it. Which never happened before the company that owned him had him junked, turns out Gavin doesn't travel by plane like Kamiski thought. But I fixed him up, with Kamski's help as the parts were custom and that was my first time dealing with that." Peter sneered at the mention of working with Kamski, Dan had a similar reaction which made it clear the man hadn't made a very good impression with them.

"Getting accused of being the one to make him was not fun... Thankfully, Gavin believed me when I told him who had actually done it so he's only gone off on me for it the one time. Guess I should've known something was up when Kamski showed up after I placed the parts order, but it's hard to tell what the face of an android with no skin looks like until you turn them on." Nines smirked a bit at Peter's mention of Gavin's behavior, showing he had some level of experience with it.

Well, it was good to know they were going to meet even more androids by just being in Peter's immediate vicinity. At least so far only one seemed fine attacking strangers on sight, even though Bishop wasn't too keen on trusting Nines' either after the poor state he showed up in.

And knowing there was another nearly identical more deranged android around they hadn't met yet didn't please Bishop either. So he stood back with his arms crossed, keeping an eye out in case somebody else felt like joining them.

"It's funny, isn't it? You meet a whole new guy, but it's still you!" Rook said while giving Strasky an encouraging pat on the shoulder, "It looks like you guys have a thing for getting in trouble. But it's clear you're good at making friends too."

"Rook is something of an expert on the topic. However, we have more pressing matters to tend to." Willow chimed in, "To answer your question, it will indeed be custom work, but fortunately time isn't a concern."

"Yeah. We just want to know if you can put a construct into an android so they won't be stuck being formless entities anymore." Rook said with a shrug, "Those guys could really use having bodies again."

"You would be paid accordingly, both for the work itself and for the risk of taking part in such a project." A possibly illegal one, though Willow simply glanced at Dan instead of mentioning it out loud, "And we'd be thankful if none of this was mentioned to the authorities, or to Cyberlife, lest they start having more ideas they would come to regret later on."

[rafesbabyg1rl]

You were asking for reqs for rafe x reader, if you are taking them, I have one in mind. In which rafe is extremely possesive of bsf reader, and gets easily jealous. One day she was at a kook party, and a guy approached her and they started to talk and that sh*t went down, rafe got aggressive and almost beat the guy to a pulp. Reader is like a shy cute innocent, bimbo type. And smut after the scene if you write it.

Summary: Innocent!reader X possessive!Rafe, bestfriend!reader X bestfriend!Rafe. Summary is basically the anonymous ask!

Warnings: Rafe is possessive of reader. Established friendship. Rafe almost beats a guy to death. Mentions of drugs (no actual drug use), alcohol consumption. Lots of smut; p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, SLIGHT degradation (some praise too). The classic 'what are we' at the end. The L word.

Word Count: 6.1k

Author Note: Hello Beauties! Thank you for the support and kindness you've all shown me. And thank you for this ask, I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did your idea justice. Sorry that this is a bit long, it just sort of happened. Also, I hope you all enjoyed the holiday yesterday, well those that celebrate. I'm hoping to finish part four of The Watcher soon so I can get it out, life has just been so exhausting. Anyways, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!! Stay freaky y'all.

Your best friend, Rafe, had asked you to go to a party with him. Well, more like he had told you to go. Although it’s not like you’d ever miss the opportunity to party with your best friend. So, here you are; walking around the side of Topper’s house, looking for Rafe. You two didn’t come together, he got here before you. He knows you don’t love being around his ‘friends’ and their various illegal substances, even though he says he’s clean, he likes to have time with them before you get there. 

You round a corner, now entering the Thorton’s backyard. You look for Rafe as you work your way through the loud and busy crowd. You hear a friend call your name, you turn your head to her, and she waves you over. You approach her and a few others with a smile. You greet them.

The other girls chat amongst themselves as your friend speaks up, shouting over the music. “Hey!” She’s over enthusiastic per regular, probably a bit drunk too.

“Hey!” You shout back. 

She begins, “Oh my god! I have to tell you something. Guess who I saw—”. Usually, you’d want to hear all the gossip she’s about to ramble to you, but not right now. “Do you know where Rafe is?” You shout over her, cutting her off.

“What?” She asks, stepping closer to you so she can hear you.

“Do you know—” You’re suddenly interrupted by some guy standing beside you. You turn to face him.

“Hey.” He says, his tone confident. A cocky grin spreads across his face.

“Hi.” You smile politely, “Do I know you?”. You say hurriedly before turning back to your friend. She looks between you and the guy a few times before facing you and giving you a knowing smirk. You know what that look means and before you can say anything, she walks away. Leaving you alone with him. You roll your eyes at her playfully, although you really are annoyed that she didn’t tell you where Rafe is. 

Slowly, you turn your head back to the guy, flashing him another fake smile. He grins again before speaking, “No…no you don’t.” He pauses, stepping a bit closer to you so he doesn’t have to shout over the music as loud. “I’m Devin.”

Your fake smile is getting awkward, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about talking to him right now. “Nice to meet you, Devin. B-but I need to–”

Devin cuts you off, “Let me get you a drink.” 

You laugh shyly, “Oh...I-I’m okay, I actually have to…”

“Let me just get you a drink, it’ll only take a second.” He moves closer to rest his hand on your lower back for a slight moment, to get you to turn toward the drinks. 

Rafe was on the back patio sitting on one of the couches when someone had mentioned to him that they saw you. He went to go and find you, which is when he spotted you laughing with some guy, who moments later put his hand on you. Rafe’s already had a few drinks tonight, so his judgment clouded even more than usual, especially when it comes to you. 

As you walk towards the drinks, Devin’s hand falls and he follows close behind you. 

After a moment, you hear a mix of gasps and ‘ooohh’s’ from everyone. You turn to look behind you where everyone seems to be gathering. You find that Devin isn’t behind you anymore.

Immediately your eyes land on some commotion in the crowd, you squeeze through the ring of people forming around the area. Shit. You run forwards, pausing just before the fight. 

Devin is flat on his back, Rafe straddling him. Rafe has Devin’s shirt clenched in one fist, holding his head off the ground as he repeatedly drives his other fist into Devin’s face. 

“Rafe!” You shout. Keeping your distance, not wanting to get too close while he’s out of control. You’ve seen how he can get. In the years that you two have been friends, you’ve had to calm him down from countless fights, since nobody else can ever seem to do it. But, when nobody else steps in to try and stop the fight, you step closer, knowing something has to be done. “Rafe, stop! Stop it!” You scream. 

Devin’s completely unconscious, his nose is probably broken, but you can’t really tell; his face is a swollen mess of blood and bruises. You can’t stand here and watch anymore, and nobody seems to be listening to your cries for help. Because nobody is stupid enough to get in Rafe’s way while he’s like this. You step behind Rafe, putting your hands on his shoulders. You try to pull him back all the while trying not to get punched.

“Rafe! Look at me! Look at me, Ray!” Rafe turns his head to the side, momentarily stopping his actions, letting Devin’s head rest on the floor. You put a hand up to cup his cheek. Speaking quietly now as you plead to him. “Rafe…c’mon, that’s good, h-he’s had enough…”. Your tears slow, but your breath is still erratic as you look at the unconscious man. 

Rafe turns back to the guy, your hand falling from his face. Rafe pulls Devin’s head up, like he was going to punch him again. Instead, he lets go, letting the boy's head hit the floor. Rafe stands up without a word and grabs you by your wrist, tugging you away. 

Before you know it, you’re being shoved into your best friend's truck. His random mumbles don’t make much sense to you, talking about ‘he got what he deserved…Should’ve fuckin’ killed him…yeah, should’ve fucking killed him for that. Touchin’ what’s mine…’

When you get to Tannyhill, Rafe wastes no time pulling you into his room. You sit on his bed stiffly, waiting silently as he paces the room.

“Rafe?” You call out softly. “You okay? What happened back there? What was that?”

“He touched you.” Rafe states. His tone is low and rough, sending a chill down your spine. Even after all the years you’ve been his best friend, you still never know how to act when he’s like this. 

“Barely. He barely touched me.”

Rafe completely disregards what you say, shaking his head and blowing out a jagged breath as he continues to pace across his room, a bit slower now. “Why was he even talking to you? You were supposed to be with me. I told you to go to the party, not him.” 

You take your chance to get a word in as he spews out angry nonsense. “I was looking for you and he started talking, ‘wanted to get me a drink. I was just being nice; I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t even want to talk to him, I was looking for you, Rafe. I don’t even see why that matters–”.

He pauses, looking over at you. His movements are sharp as he strides over to you. “Don’t see why it matters…?” He repeats your words, more for himself than to you. “It matters because you’re mine.” His words are sharp, definitely directed to you that time.

“Rafe…you almost killed him…because of me? I don’t get it Rafe; I don’t nearly kill all the girls you fuck.” You state.

Rafe lets out a breathy chuckle before speaking. “Still don’t get it, huh?” Rafe laughs. “God you’re so innocent. So naive.” He pauses, stepping closer until he’s standing in front of you, looking down at you as you sit on his bed. “I need you, y/n. I can’t…god, I can’t even fuck anyone else anymore without thinking about you. I can’t let anyone else have you, got that? You understand now?” He asks harshly as he runs a rough hand through your hair. 

You try to swallow the lump in your throat. You look up and nod weakly, causing Rafe to flash a devilish grin. “Yeah?” He asks quietly, his voice coming out low. 

“Yeah…” You mumble back brainlessly, too shocked by your best friend's confession. You had always thought Rafe saw you purely as a friend. Although thinking back, you don’t know how you ever thought that with how he acts, especially lately. 

No time is wasted as Rafe quickly leans down, capturing your lips with his. The first kiss is hesitant, and you don’t kiss back. But when he pulls away to look at you, trying to gauge your emotion, you lean in. Your best friend takes that as a sign to continue. His lips quickly find yours again. When he feels you start to kiss back, he escalates things. Kissing you more roughly now, acting as though he’s a starved man and your lips are his meal.

His hand moves from the back of your head to your throat, lightly squeezing. At first you don’t even realize, too distracted by the feeling of his tongue entering your mouth. But when Rafe squeezes your neck even tighter, you move your hands to reach up and wrap around his wrist in an attempt to pull it away. Your mouth still occupied by his, the kiss is too fucking good to break. It feels like everything you didn’t know you needed. He’s giving you what nobody else could, because only he knows exactly what you need and exactly how to give it to you. Your lack of breath reminds you of your situation and you pull away from the kiss momentarily.

Rafe’s grip loosens as he pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Tell me you want this.” He mumbles breathlessly. 

You search his eyes as you catch your breath. Nodding, you finally speak up. “I want this.” You say definitively.

Not even half a second later, Rafe’s body crashes down onto you, pushing you down so that you’re laying on his bed. Rafe has one arm beside your head, holding himself up as his other remains on your neck. He hovers over you, one knee pressed between your thighs. Rafe leans down, his lips attaching to your neck, kissing and sucking frantically at your skin. He’s been waiting so, so long for this. 

His lips find your ear, softly biting at it before whispering. “Let me take care of you, baby. You want that, hm?”. While waiting for your response, his free hand traces down the side of your body until it reaches the hem of your skirt. He moves his face to the other side of your head, giving some attention to your other ear. “Need your best friend to help you feel good…give you what you need, yeah?” His hand slips under your skirt, slowly gliding up your inner thigh, sending shivers through your whole body.

“Yes–” A moan escapes your lips, interrupting you. Your eyes meet his before you continue. “Please Rafey…need you…”

His lips meet yours at the same time his hand meets your clothed cunt. He kisses you sloppily, exploring every part of your mouth with his tongue. Your hands come up to rest on his chest, your touch sending shocks through him. He rubs you through your panties. He can feel as you grow more needy, the wet spot on your panties getting larger. 

He can’t believe this is actually happening. He’s wanted to do this to you for so long; he’s dreamt of this moment happening in almost every way possible, but this…he never could’ve imagined this feeling. “Fuck…you’re so wet f’me already.”

“Ray…please…” You can’t help but rut your panty-clad cunt against his hand, searching for friction. Usually you’re never this bold, but you’re comfortable with him. You always have been, he is your best friend after all. You just pray that he understands what you need. 

Except Rafe doesn’t respond in the way you had hoped for. No, instead he pulls his hand out from under your skirt, eliciting a whine from you. He presses a genuine, wet kiss against your parted lips before moving down your body. Rafe slides down, kneeling onto the floor in front of the bed. He grabs you by the back of your knees and tugs you down towards him until your ass is at the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, he swiftly removes your skirt. He spreads your legs, making them bend so your heels are on the edge of the bed. Eagerly, he presses wet, sloppy kisses up your inner thighs, his eyes trained up on you.

The sight of him like this between your thighs, doing exactly what you need…it drives you crazy. You lean your head back, letting out a moan as Rafe mouths at your entrance through the fabric your panties.

It’s not long before he’s peeling back your panties as well, sliding them off of you completely. Your legs threaten to close from insecurity, but your best friend is sure to hold them open.

“Fuck…this pussy’s even prettier than I imagined, baby. Soaked…just for me.” Rafe leans in, his mouth hovering just above your core. He silently asks for permission.

Being your best friend, Rafe knows that you’ve never done this before. No guy had ever wanted to date you while Rafe’s your best friend, they could see that you’re his, even if you couldn’t. 

His breath is hot on your bare center, he watches as you squirm and clench around nothing. Eagerly you nod, giving him permission. And within seconds his mouth is on you.

At first, he’s slow; gentle as his eyes continue to meet yours. He licks a warm stripe up your center, briefly pulling back to watch your reaction. Your head falls back, your mouth parted, and eyes closed as you experience this new sensation that your best friend is so generously giving you.

Rafe begins to lick and suck at you. His tongue circles your clit as he looks up, knowing you’d like it. A moan slips past your lips as your hand flies to the back of his head, the other gripping onto the sheets beside you. 

“Nnnghh…f-fuck, Ray…” You whine as his tongue fucks you relentlessly. He only mumbles against you in response, sending vibrations through your core. This felt even better than you had ever thought it would. When you heard people talk about sex, you didn’t think it could actually be this good. Though maybe that just has to do with the fact that Rafe’s your best friend, and he knows exactly what you need.

“Yeah?” One of his hands leaves your leg and moves to grope your tits through your clothes. “You like this, huh? You’re just a slut for your best friend, hm? Letting me have you like this…”

“N-need you…” You mutter, grieving the loss of his tongue on you. He stares at you with a devilish glint in his eyes. 

“I know, baby. I know.” Rafe’s mouth continues to work on you. His tongue gathers some slick from your entrance and brings it up to your clit, circling it with his tongue a few times before repeating the process. 

The feeling in your lower stomach is starting to build. It’s getting hard for you to sit still for him. It’s even harder for you to stay quiet. A plethora of moans escape you as Rafe’s mouth stays busy between your thighs. Your hand holds his head down, your other grips the sheets underneath you. 

“Rafe…please. S’too much, I can’t—” You whine. 

“Ah ah ah…stop running, baby. I got you. I got you.” Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you in place. “God,” He mutters breathlessly. “You taste…you taste so fuckin’ good. Hiding this from me all that time, hm?” He leans back down and continues his ministrations on you.

Your toes start to curl, the band in your stomach threatening to snap. Suddenly he stops and before you get the chance to look down to see why, one of his fingers is prodding at your entrance. “Gotta stretch this pretty little pussy out, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You nod, allowing one of his thick, long digits to slowly slide into you. You almost scream when he starts to move it, his mouth working on you at the same time. Rafe adds another finger, now thrusting two in and out of you. 

“Fuck baby, you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good. Jus’ gotta get you used to this, hm? You gonna let your best friend be the first to fuck you?” Rafe asks. You nod in response, agreeing to his words. Rafe’s fingers spread apart inside you, stretching your hole, preparing you for his cock. His tongue pauses again as he looks up at you and correct his previous statement. “The only one to fuck you.” Rafe puts his head back between your thighs, his fingers fucking you mercilessly as his tongue sucks at your bud. 

You nod again, followed by a whine. “F-fuck…Ray. I-I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby? Hm?” 

“Mhmm…yes, fuckk–” You respond, your fingers fighting to grasp onto the little hair he has. Your thighs begin to squeeze around him, causing him to pull his head up against the force of your hand on him. 

“Just a little more, baby. You can take it. I know you can. You gonna let me help you finish? You wanna cum?”

“Yes! Yes! Please Rafey…please let me cum.” Your begging makes him chuckle briefly before going back down on you. His tongue moves with precision, working on you with a purpose; to make you cum. 

Without warning, the band in your stomach snaps. You scream out his name as his tongue circles your sensitive bud and his fingers pump in and out of you slowly. Your best friend continues to work you through your first real orgasm. You’ve never felt anything like this. Why the hell did you wait so long to do this with him?

“God…baby. You’re so fuckin’ perfect. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those pretty sounds.” Rafe carefully slides his fingers out of you, making you clench around nothing at the loss of him. He gets up from his knees, standing over you again. Rafe’s face glistens with your slick. His hand moves up to brush your hair back while he brings his free hand up to your mouth. “Open.” He orders. You oblige and he pushes two digits into your mouth. “Taste that? Taste how fuckin’ good you taste?” He pulls his fingers back, immediately moving down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips. Rafe climbs on top of you, his mouth finding the sweet spot behind your ear. He whispers, “You okay?”

“Mhm…better than okay.” You reassure him. Your legs are still shaking with the aftershock of your orgasm. 

“Good.” He mumbles against your skin. “‘Cause I’m not even close to done with you, baby. We’re just getting started.” He doesn’t wait before he’s pulling off your shirt, kissing down your chest. Soon after, he unclasps your bra with one hand, pulling it off of you and tossing it onto the floor somewhere. 

His lips are vicious, attaching to any and every bit of your skin. His hands gently cup your breasts, his mouth finding and attaching to one of your nipples. His eyes stay trained up on your face, he likes seeing how you react to his touch. He pulls back, straddling your lap. Your hand shoots out to grab the hem of his shirt, trying to tug it upwards. He smirks and quickly does it himself, tossing it aside. He watches you like prey as your eyes skim over his bare chest. 

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, you have, many times. But no matter how many times you see him like this, you’ll never get used to it. You’ve never seen him in this way though. It’s different, more intimate. You’ve never shared this kind of intimacy with anybody before. And you’re glad you’re doing it with your best friend, whom you’re comfortable with. 

The low light of his bedside lamps reflecting off of his toned skin, damp with sweat. You let out a slow breath as you take in the sight. “Fuck.” You mutter. 

Rafe leans down, kissing and nipping at your earlobe. He whispers, “Like what you see?” He laughs. 

You nod your head eagerly. “Mhmm…”

“Use your words baby, you’re a big girl, aren’t you?” 

“I…y-yes.” You whine as you wriggle underneath him, trying to squeeze your thighs shut in search of some much-needed friction.

Rafe knows what you need. He knows that you’re ready now; ready to give him everything, let him take your innocence, your virtue. He uses one hand to prop himself up as the other works at his belt. Once you realize what he’s doing, you try to help him out, eagerly unbuckling his belt as he kisses you passionately, like he’s never kissed anyone else before you; like you’re the only girl on this fucking planet. 

Once his belt is off, you work at his pants. He leans up so he can tug them off, throwing them aside with the rest of the discarded clothes. All that’s left between the two of you now is the thin fabric of his boxers. You can feel his hardened form pressing into your leg as he kisses you, practically devouring you. Without thinking about it, you find your hand tugging at the waistband of his boxers. You beg. “Please”, your lips whisper into his ear as he bites at your neck. “Rafey…”

He leans back again, this time getting off of you and standing at the side of the bed and in front of you. You can’t help but touch yourself as Rafe frees himself from the constraint of his boxers. You watch as his hard cock springs up, hitting his stomach when it’s finally freed. He smirks, leaning down to remove your hand from yourself. 

“I got you, baby. I got you. I’ll take care of you.” He mumbles, moving his hand over your core again. His strong fingers circle your clit. Your breath hitches as you watch him touch you, his other hand holding the base of his cock.

“Rafe?” You manage to ask through your cries. 

“Hm? What is it?” Rafe says your name softly, encouraging you to continue. 

“Will it hurt?” You’ve heard that the first time can be uncomfortable. And judging by Rafe’s size, this was going to be more than just uncomfortable. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to back out of the situation, you need this. You need him.

Your best friend’s expression becomes more serious as he looks at you. His hand comes up from your core to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “It might, baby. It might be a little uncomfortable for a moment, but I’ll do my best to make it feel good, yeah? I’ll go slow. And if you don’t like it I want you to tell me. You’re okay, baby. It’s just me, your best friend. I’m gonna take care of you. M’kay?” You nod in response, his eyes darting between your eyes to get a sense of what you’re thinking. Rafe clicks his tongue. “Ah, ah. Use your words, pretty girl.” His hand reaches out for your chin, tilting your face up towards him. 

“Please Ray…”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me…” The words sound so vulgar coming from your sweet, innocent mouth. He’s never known you to speak this way, but he’s not against it. He pumps his fist over his cock a few times, his head leaning back as he lets out a groan. “Please Rafe…I-I need you in me…”

Your words snap him out of his amazement. “Atta girl.” He replies. You can feel his tip gently rub against your slippery entrance. Your warm juices on his cock feel better than anything he’s ever experienced. You’re like a drug to him. A drug that he can’t get enough of. 

He pulls back before you can get used to the feeling of him. He leans over you, reaching into his dresser drawer. When he moves back over you, you see the shiny square wrapper in his hand.

You place your hands over his as he tries to open the condom. “No…”

His head snaps up at you. “No…? No what?” He asks, confused. “You don’t want to do this?”

“No…Rafe, I-I want this. I just…I want to feel you. No…no condom.” You explain.

“Fuck, y/n. Are you sure?” Rafe’s disbelief and shock is very apparent in his tone. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m on the pill.” You confirm.

“God, how much more perfect can you fuckin’ get?” He chuckles, making you huff out a quick laugh. 

Soon his lips are back on yours as he uses his hand to guide his glistening, pink tip back to your puffy cunt. Slowly, he pushes into you, just so that the very tip of his cock is inside of you. He looks up to your face, pending your reaction. 

“F-fuck…Rafe.” Your hands move to his hips, pushing him further inside. Rafe gives in, pushing another inch into you. “Mnghh, fuck…Rafe.” Rafe settles there for a moment before giving you another inch or two. Each time he moves, he looks to make sure you’re still enjoying it, giving you a minute to adjust each time. When he finally bottoms out, you feel so…full. The pain is there, but it doesn’t last long, fading into a light discomfort as your soft walls mold to his shape. You involuntarily squeeze around him.

“Shiiiitt, baby…Squeezin’ me so tight.” He pauses to kiss you, his lips soon finding that soft spot behind your ear that makes you shiver. “M’gonna move now, alright?”

“Mhm…please…” You whine. You hook your arms under his, bringing your palms up to grip onto his back. Rafe continues to kiss all over your neck and chest as he slowly pulls out of you, until only the tip is left inside. Without warning, he pushes into you a bit quicker this time, with a bit more force than before. But you’re not complaining. You cry his name out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He begins to move at a slow, steady pace as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. “F-fuck…” You yelp, gripping onto him even harder.

“Fuck, baby…your nails, they hurt.” He mumbles amusedly into your ear as he nips at it. Immediately your grip loosens. You feel terrible but can’t manage to muster up an apology since you can’t think clearly with how his cock is repeatedly kissing your cervix with each thrust. 

“Faster.” You beg, pressing your forehead into his arm. He listens cautiously, carefully picking up the face. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. The new position allows him to hit an even deeper spot inside of you. When his digits start to circle your clit you almost let out a scream, making him chuckle. 

“Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?” He laughs as he fucks you senseless.

“Fuck…Rafey, no, I…I can’t. Can’t take it.” You moan, throwing your head back as your eyes squeeze shut. 

“You can and you will.” He speaks emotionlessly, overtaken by pleasure. Rafe’s hand moves from you clit up to your throat again, he applies a bit of pressure. Your hands leave his back and wrap around his wrist. Your eyes stay shut as your face contorts into that of pure bliss. His thumb slides into your mouth and you suck and bite at it, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feeling of him fucking you. You don’t see how you can ever stop; this feeling is…unlike anything else you’ve felt before. “You got this baby. M’almost there. You can let go, baby. Just let go f’me.”

Sooner than later you feel the newly familiar feeling of pressure building in your lower stomach. When it snaps, your body tenses up, a wave of moans escape your mouth as the band snaps and pleasure washes over you. Rafe continues to fuck you slowly, his movements becoming more sporadic than strategic.

“Fuck, where do you want it?”

“My pussy, please Rafey…fill me up?” You ask, eyes wide with tears as you look up at him. “Please?”

“Shit, you sure?” Rafe groans, barely able to hold on any longer.

“Y-yes...I’m sure.” Only seconds later you can feel his warm seed spurting out inside of you. Your gummy walls soaking him in as they squeeze around him, milking him for all that he’s got.

“Fuckk y/n. Do that again.” As he thrusts into you without any specific rhythm, you obey his words, squeezing tightly around his length again. Rafe lets out a guttural moan, tossing his head back for a moment before looking at you again, watching how well you take him, as if you were made for him. The way he fills you up you is like pieces of a puzzle, just meant for one another. “Shiiitt…you’re so fucking tight. Squeezin’ ‘round your best friends cock so good.”

After you’re both worked through your orgasms, he pulls out of you. You groan at the loss of him, feeling a big opening left where he had been. Rafe leans down to press a deep, meaningful kiss to your lips. He pulls back, wiping your hair and sweat from your face with a proud smile.

“God, baby. You did so good, so fucking good. That’s a good girl. My girl, yeah?” He leans down again, pressing a kiss to your neck. Rafe whispers in your ear. “m’so proud.” Before pulling away completely, he presses a kiss to each of your cheeks, your nose, and one final kiss to your forehead. 

You turn on your side to face him as he lay on the bed beside you. “Rafe…” Your voice shows your exhaustion, but also your hesitancy.

He turns on his side to face you as well, propping his head up against his hand. “Hm?” He says with a smile. He can’t help it, it’s impossible for him to see you and not smile after what you just did. 

You flop back down onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. It’s too hard to say this while looking at his beautiful smile. “That was…” 

“Incredible?” He interrupts, his fingers lightly tracing up and down your arm. 

“What was that?” You blurt out, scared that if you don’t say it now then you never will.

Rafe’s smile fades quickly, he props himself up on his elbows, staring down at you with furrowed brows. “Woah woah, woah. Hey. What? What d’you mean?”

You give a light shrug, his fingers no longer moving over your skin. You avoid looking at his pretty eyes. “I mean like…what happens now?”

He sighs, laying back down next to you, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, you’re my girl now, yeah? I thought that was obvious.” 

“Your girl? The Rafe Cameron I know doesn’t do girlfriends.” You say lightly.

“That’s because I never wanted one. I never…needed one, I’ve got you.”

“So…we’re friends?” You ask, attempting and failing at trying to hide your emotions.

“We are, aren’t we?” Rafe responds, not knowing what his words imply or how they’ll make you feel.

“Yeah…yea we’re friends.” You say dryly. 

He turns his head to face you. “Hey. Y/N. What’s wrong? Hey…hey, talk to me.”

“Nothing, Rafe. I’m fine.”

“Jesus, no you’re not. C‘mon baby, what is it?”

“Nothing!” You snap. You’re angry about your own reaction, feeling stupid once the words leave your mouth. Grabbing the sheets, you cover yourself up.

“Did I do something? What’d I do?” Asks Rafe, making you feel worse about yourself. It’s not his fault you feel like this. “Is it what we did? Look, I’m sorry if—“

You cut him off, not being able to listen to him blame himself. “I just…I don’t think friends do what we just did.”

“Jesus, y/n. Look…” He trails off, cursing himself. “Do you not wanna be my girl or something? ‘Cause I can—“

“No, Rafe. I just…I don’t get what you mean. Your girl?”

“Yeah.” He says, confused.

“Like…your girlfriend? Dating? Us?”

“Fuck. Yes, baby. My girlfriend.” Rafe says the word as though it’s a pain to say it. “Will you be my girlfriend? Please?” You could tease him about the way he’s practically begging you.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” You joke, not being able to resist. Rafe laughs, glad to hear your usual self. 

“Well, I’m kinda hoping that I’m your…boyfriend, now.”

“Hmm…let me think…” You say, tapping your chin as if this is something you need to contemplate. You can see his demeanor sadden from the corner of your eye, causing you to look over at him. “What’s in it for me?” You add, a smirk threatening to appear on your face. You can barely hold back your laughter at this point, but he still looks so sad, like a puppy who can’t have a treat. “Jesus Rafe, I thought you’d never ask.” You don’t even give him enough time to respond before you’re on top of him, his lips immediately seeking yours.

“Yeah? You mean it?” He asks between kisses, almost nervously. 

“Of course I do, Rafe. ‘Promise.” 

You always know just what to say to him to calm down his mind, he loves that about you. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. God, I fuckin’ love you.” Your eyes widen at his confession, you look down at him. He’s almost just as shocked as you are. He didn’t even know he felt that way. The words just slipped out, but they felt so right. “Fuck, no, I meant—“ Rafe starts, but you cut him off. You kiss him again,  passionately. This kiss shows him exactly how you feel, somehow being more intimate than having sex with him was. 

“I love you, Rafe. I promise.” You know how he can feel like everybody is against him, so you try to reassure him as much as you can. You’re the only one who’s ever made him feel cared for; he just never wanted to fuck things up with you. “Please just…can you promise me that you’ll stop beating up random strangers who talk to me? ‘Cause I don’t care about them, Rafe. I care about you.”

This is all so new, talking to each other in this way. But it’s how you’ve both always felt. “But y/n, he-“ Rafe pauses, reconsidering his words for you. He sighs and then mumbles, “Yeah…I’ll try.” He looks back at you, you with a stern look in your eyes. “I will. I promise.”

You smile, leaning down for a kiss. Quickly, things start to escalate again. Rafe flips you both over so he’s on top. He leans down to kiss your neck, sucking and nipping at it as he works his way down, kissing every inch of you. 

“Mnmh…fuck…” You moan.

Rafe smiles against your skin. “Yeah, baby? That feels good huh?” You only nod eagerly as a response. Rafe takes hold of his already hard cock, using his fist to pump over himself a few times, letting out a low growl. He rubs his dewy, pink tip over your sticky hole. 

You let out a moan, still being sensitive from your previous orgasms. “F-fuck…Rafe, m’too sensitive, s’too much.” You whine.

“Shh…shhhh baby, it’s okay. I’m not gonna do nothin’, jus’ wanna show you how proud of my girl I am.” His mouth works it’s way down, landing back between your thighs. Your boyfriend softly bites at your inner thighs, his eyes staying trained on you as your face contorts in pleasure. Eventually he finds your soaking core, lapping up the mix of your juices. You feel his fingers gather some of your arousal, mixed with his cum. Before you know it, those fingers are deep inside your throat. “Taste that, baby? Hm? Taste how fucking good we are?” 

You nod, whining when his mouth finds your core again. His tongue flicks at your most sensitive bud, making you jump. Although Rafe only holds onto harder the more you try to run. “Baby, it’s okay. Let me take care of you; clean you up.”

It doesn’t take long until you’re yet again, a shaking, crying mess underneath him. When his mouth works it’s way back to yours, you can taste both of you on his tongue. “Fuckin’ love this pussy. I fucking love you.”

You smile a weak, tired smile at him. He rolls off of you, flipping you both on your side so he can spoon you. He kisses your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing mindless shapes into your skin. “I love you too.” You respond as you drift off to sleep in your boyfriend's arms.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to leave more asks, I will most likely get to them at some point. Thank you!

[lovesickhughes]

MEET ME UNDER THE MISTLETOE — a holiday series

↳ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: a collection of holiday fics inspired by my favourite xmas classics 🦌🌲🤍

author's note ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ : the holidays are fast approaching! i've decided to put together an assortment of holiday fics for this christmas season! fics will start being put out december 1 and will be released throughout the month! i hope you enjoy & i hope you are all able to celebrate the holiday season with loved ones and have it be as magical as can be 🧦🎄🤍

SILVER BELLS; dean martin — nico hischier x reader

↳ it's your first christmas as a family, what better way to show your daughter the holiday magic by visiting the christmas lights walk-through

BUY ME PRESENTS; sabrina carpenter — quinn hughes x reader

��� christmas comes early when shopping with quinn

A CHRISTMAS SONG; nat king cole — nico hischier x reader

↳ with chestnuts roasting on an open fire, decorating your shared apartment helps to make the season bright

I'LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS; michael bublé — quinn hughes x reader

↳ a slight surprise to the family's christmas gathering almost seems like a christmas miracle

LAST CHRISTMAS; wham! — connor bedard x reader

↳ when back in chicago for the holidays, what happens when an unexpected face changes what's on your christmas wishlist

MISTLETOE; justin bieber — luke hughes x reader

↳ when you join your best friend for his team christmas party, what happens when his teammates have a special gift in store?

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU; michael bublé — trevor zegras x reader

↳ what happens when you "no strings attached" hookups with your roommate turn a bit more festive?

A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS; sabrina carpenter — jack hughes x reader

↳ when jack gifts a new holiday lingerie set, he realizes it might be better off then on; leaving him thinking nonsense

SANTA DOESN'T KNOW YOU LIKE I DO; sabrina carpenter — connor bedard x reader

↳ when final season is hitting colder than the winter air, it seems that someone knows exactly what's needed

COLD DECEMBER NIGHT; michael bublé — jack hughes x reader

↳ it's the first christmas spent with the hughes family, but it's not the first time jack's been sure about you being the one

IS IT NEW YEARS YET?; sabrina carpenter [out on dec. 31] — jack hughes x reader

↳ the holiday season doesn't come with joy like they say, but can someone make it feel like it's new years yet?

[jmkjournalblog]

HI

idk if your requests are open but i really like your writing and i thought just asking couldn’t hurt 🙈

you can ignore if you dont want to hehe

but i was wondering if you could maybe write smut with sub!reader and mommy!agatha? like maybe they work together or something but mainly smut please 😇. can reader be a little bratty too perhaps 👀 ?? but like mommy agatha knows how to put her in her place 🙈🫠 hehe

thank you very much!

It's written a bit choppily, but I hope you like it)

Miss Carter

You're filming a new movie with Agatha and you've already gotten on her nerves with your behavior.

Warnings: Smut, Power dynamics, Mommy kink,

Later that evening, you found yourself in the dim glow of a bar near the set, nursing a cocktail and replaying the day’s events. You hadn’t expected to see her again so soon, but there she was—walking in like she owned the place, still dressed in her Miss Carter costume, though her blouse was now unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the barest hint of collarbone.

She spotted you instantly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she approached.

“No entourage tonight?” she asked, sliding onto the stool next to you.

“Didn’t think I’d need one,” you replied, your smirk returning. “What brings you here, Miss Carter?”

Her lips quirked at the name, but there was no humor in her gaze. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?”

“That thing you do,” she said, leaning closer. “Where you push and push until someone snaps.”

“And what if I want you to snap?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, but you didn’t regret them. Not when you saw the way her pupils darkened, the way her chest rose and fell just a little faster.

Agatha didn’t respond—not with words, anyway. Instead, she reached out, her hand tangling in the front of your blouse. She pulled you close, her breath hot against your ear as she whispered, “Do you always get what you want?”

You turned your head, your lips brushing the corner of hers. “If I work for it.”

Her kiss was sudden, ferocious. It wasn’t playful or teasing—it was possessive, her lips crashing into yours with enough force to make you gasp. Her hand tightened in your blouse, pulling you closer as her teeth nipped at your bottom lip.

When she pulled back, her breathing was ragged, her eyes blazing. “Come with me,” she ordered, her voice low and commanding.

*********

The hotel room was a blur of tangled limbs and frantic hands. Agatha pushed you against the wall, her body pressing against yours as her lips found your neck. Her teeth scraped your skin, just enough to make you shiver, and her hands slid under your blouse, her fingers grazing bare skin.

“You’ve been driving me fucking insane,” she growled against your ear. “You and that mouth.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but her fingers slid between your lips, silencing you. “Suck,” she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You obeyed, your tongue swirling around her fingers, your eyes locked on hers. The intensity of her gaze made your knees weak, and when she finally pulled her fingers free, her lips crashed into yours again, swallowing your moan.

“Good girl,” she murmured, her voice dripping with approval. “Now let’s see how well you follow the rest of my instructions.”

Your pulse thundered in your ears as her lips claimed yours, rough and demanding, her teeth catching your bottom lip before her tongue swept in. The kiss was a battle, a clash of wills, and when she finally pulled back, you were gasping for air, your lips swollen and slick.

"Take it off," she commanded, tugging at your blouse impatiently. Her voice left no room for argument, and your hands moved automatically, unbuttoning the garment with trembling fingers. Her eyes never left yours, even as the fabric slipped from your shoulders and fell to the floor.

She let out a soft, almost predatory hum as she drank you in, her gaze trailing over the lacy bra barely covering your chest and the curve of your waist. “You’re going to call me mommy tonight,” she said, her tone cool, authoritative. “Understood?”

“Yes, mommy,” you whispered, the words sending a jolt of heat straight through you. Her lips curled into a pleased smirk, and before you could catch your breath, she pressed you harder against the wall, her thigh slipping between yours.

Agatha’s hands were everywhere—rough, possessive. One slid up your stomach, cupping your breast through the lace, her thumb circling your nipple until it hardened beneath her touch. The other traced the line of your hip before moving to your thigh, gripping it firmly as she pressed her leg against your core. The friction made you whimper, your hips moving instinctively to grind against her.

"Pathetic," she teased, her voice dripping with mockery as she pinched your nipple sharply, making you gasp. "I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already so desperate. Do you want me to make you beg, or are you going to behave?"

“I’ll behave,” you managed, your voice shaky, though the fire in your eyes challenged her. You saw her grin, wicked and knowing, before she stepped back, leaving you cold and aching in her absence.

"On the bed," she ordered, her voice sharp. You scrambled to obey, the sheets cool against your heated skin as you lay back, your legs slightly parted in silent invitation. Agatha watched you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before crawling onto the bed like a predator closing in on its prey.

Her hands slid up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher until it bunched around your hips. She let out a low, approving hum at the sight of your damp panties, her fingers hooking into the waistband and pulling them down slowly, deliberately, leaving you bare and exposed.

"Look at you," she murmured, her tone laced with condescension as her fingers trailed along your inner thigh. "So eager, so wet. Is this all for me?"

“Yes, mommy,” you breathed, your hips lifting slightly, silently begging for her touch.

Her fingers brushed against your slick folds, featherlight, teasing. "Good girl," she said softly, her tone a stark contrast to the sharp edge of her next move—two fingers sliding into you without warning. Your back arched off the bed, a cry escaping your lips as she set a slow, deliberate pace, her fingers curling to hit that perfect spot inside you.

"Shh," she cooed, her free hand moving to your mouth, her fingers pressing against your lips. "Suck."

You obeyed instantly, your tongue swirling around her fingers as she thrust into you, the wet sounds of your body mixing with your muffled moans. Her eyes never left yours, her gaze dark and possessive, and when she finally pulled her fingers from your mouth, they trailed down your chin, leaving a glistening trail.

“Bet you taste so sweet,” she murmured, leaning down to kiss you, her tongue sweeping into your mouth. When her kisses moved lower—down your neck, across your collarbone, and over the swell of your breasts—you were trembling beneath her.

Her mouth closed around your nipple, her tongue flicking against the sensitive peak as her teeth grazed it lightly. One hand continued to work between your legs, her fingers pumping in and out of you with devastating precision, while the other gripped your hip, holding you in place as you writhed beneath her.

"Stay still," she ordered, her voice firm. "You don’t move unless I tell you to. Understand?"

“Yes, mommy,” you gasped, biting your lip to stifle a moan as her fingers pressed harder, faster, the heel of her hand grinding against your clit. The pleasure was overwhelming, building like a storm inside you, and when she suddenly pulled her hand away, you nearly sobbed at the loss.

"Not yet," she said, her smirk returning as she kissed her way down your stomach, her hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wide. "You don’t come until I say so."

Her breath was hot against your core, and when her tongue finally made contact, you cried out, your hands fisting the sheets. She was relentless, her mouth devouring you like she was starving. Her tongue flicked and circled your clit, alternating with long, slow strokes that left you shaking.

“Please,” you whimpered, your hips bucking despite her earlier command. “Please, mommy—”

Her nails dug into your thighs, holding you still as she pulled back just enough to speak. "What did I say about moving?"

“I’m sorry,” you gasped, your chest heaving. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

"See that you are," she said, her tone sharp as her mouth returned to you. This time, her fingers joined her tongue, sliding back inside you and curling just right. The combined sensation was too much, and you teetered on the edge of release, your body tense, trembling.

"Don’t you dare," she warned, her voice muffled against your skin. But you couldn’t help it—the pleasure crashed over you, white-hot and blinding, and you cried out as your body convulsed beneath her.

Agatha sat back, her lips glistening, a dangerous smile on her face. "I didn’t say you could come," she said, her tone deceptively calm.

“I—I couldn’t stop,” you stammered, your voice shaking.

Her hand shot out, gripping your chin and forcing you to look at her. "Then I suppose I’ll have to teach you some discipline," she said, her eyes gleaming with wicked intent. "Turn over. We’re not done yet."

And as you obeyed, your heart pounding with anticipation, you knew this was just the beginning.

You turned over as instructed, the cool sheets brushing against your bare chest, your body still trembling from the orgasm she hadn’t permitted. Agatha’s presence loomed behind you, her hands resting firmly on your hips, holding you in place. Her nails dug into your skin just enough to make you gasp, her touch a warning of the control she wielded.

“Did I tell you to come?” she asked, her voice low and sharp, like the edge of a knife.

“No, mommy,” you murmured, your cheek pressed against the bed, your breathing uneven.

“No,” she repeated, almost to herself, her tone dripping with mockery. Her hands moved up your back, tracing the curve of your spine before sliding back down to your ass. She gave it a sharp slap, the sound echoing in the room, the sting making you yelp.

“You need to learn some self-control,” she said, her voice firm. “And I’m going to make sure you remember this lesson.”

Her hands parted your thighs, spreading you open for her, and you shivered under her gaze, feeling completely exposed. You could feel her breath on your skin, her lips brushing over the curve of your ass, her tongue darting out to tease the sensitive skin just below. She was taking her time, savoring every moment of your vulnerability.

“Such a good view,” she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. Her fingers slid through your folds, teasing your sensitive clit just enough to make you whimper, but not enough to push you toward release. “Do you feel how wet you are? All of this because you can’t behave.”

Her hand moved lower, her fingers slipping into you once more, slow and deliberate this time. You moaned, your hips jerking involuntarily, but her other hand pressed down firmly on your lower back, pinning you in place.

"Still," she barked, her tone brooking no argument. "If you move again, I’ll stop. Do you understand?"

“Yes, mommy,” you whispered, biting your lip to hold back the noises threatening to spill from your throat.

Her fingers moved inside you with precision, her pace maddeningly slow. She alternated between thrusting and curling them, hitting that spot that made you see stars. Her thumb brushed over your clit occasionally, sending jolts of pleasure through you, but she always pulled back before you could get too close.

"You don’t come until I say you can," she said, her voice dripping with authority. "Let’s see if you can follow orders this time."

You clenched the sheets in your fists, your body taut with the effort of holding yourself back. Every nerve in your body was on fire, her touch both heaven and hell, pushing you closer and closer to the edge only to pull you back.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, she stopped, her fingers slipping out of you. You let out a frustrated whimper, your hips bucking slightly in protest, but her hand came down on your ass again, harder this time.

"Did I say you could protest?" she snapped, her nails digging into the flesh of your hip.

“No, mommy,” you whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the sheer intensity of it all.

“Good,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “You’re learning.”

You felt her shift behind you, her weight settling on the bed. Then her hands were on you again, spreading you open, and her tongue replaced her fingers. The wet heat of her mouth against you made you cry out, your body arching despite her earlier warnings. Her tongue flicked over your clit, teasing and taunting, before sliding down to taste you fully.

She devoured you like a woman starved, her hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place as her tongue worked relentlessly. The pressure built again, stronger this time, and you bit down hard on the sheets, desperate to hold back.

“Mommy, please,” you begged, your voice breaking. “I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” she said, her voice muffled against you. “You’ll hold it until I tell you to let go.”

Her fingers joined her tongue, sliding into you once more, her pace quickening. The dual sensations were overwhelming, and your body trembled uncontrollably beneath her. Your breaths came in short, ragged gasps, and tears streamed down your face as you fought to obey her command.

“Now,” she said suddenly, her voice sharp and commanding. “Come for me. Now.”

The release hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with an intensity that left you sobbing into the mattress. Your body convulsed, every muscle tensing and releasing as the pleasure tore through you. Agatha didn’t stop, her tongue and fingers prolonging your orgasm until you were a shaking, incoherent mess.

When she finally pulled away, you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent. She sat back, her hands running over your trembling thighs, soothing you as you tried to catch your breath.

“Good girl,” she murmured, her voice soft now, full of pride. “You took your punishment well.”

You slowly rolled over onto your back. Even as the aftershocks of your orgasm left your limbs trembling, a fresh pulse of need stirred deep inside you. She must have felt it—the way your breath hitched, the subtle shift of your hips—because she tilted your chin up, her dark eyes locking onto yours with a smirk that promised no mercy.

“You’re insatiable,” she murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from your damp forehead. Her voice was soft, almost amused, but her fingers tightened their hold on your chin, her control as absolute as ever. “It’s adorable.”

“I just want—” you started, but the words faltered under her gaze. Want? Need? Whatever it was, it burned hot and undeniable.

“You want whatever I give you,” she interrupted, her thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip. “And you’ll take it, won’t you?”

“Yes, mommy,” you breathed, the words a plea and a promise all at once.

Her smile widened, wicked and knowing, as she shifted her weight to straddle your hips. Her blouse hung loose now, unbuttoned completely, and her skirt rode up high on her thighs. The sight of her above you—dominant, unyielding—was enough to make you moan softly, the sound slipping out before you could stop it.

“Such a needy little thing,” she mused, rolling her hips against yours with agonizing slowness. “I could keep you here all night, begging for it, and you wouldn’t complain, would you?”

“No, mommy,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Her hands slid down your body, dragging over every curve, every dip, until they reached your thighs. She pushed them apart with a firm insistence, her nails grazing your skin just enough to make you shiver. She settled between your legs, her hands pressing your thighs wide open as she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear.

“I think I’m going to enjoy ruining you,” she whispered, her breath hot and teasing. “Piece by piece.”

Your response was swallowed by a gasp as her mouth moved to your neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin before biting down just hard enough to leave a mark. She kissed and nipped her way down your body, her hands following the path of her lips, leaving no part of you untouched.

When her mouth reached your chest, she paused, her eyes flicking up to meet yours as she hooked her fingers under the lace of your bra. “Off,” she ordered, sitting back slightly to give you room. You scrambled to obey, your hands fumbling in your haste to remove the garment.

“Good girl,” she murmured when you tossed it aside, her voice thick with approval. Her tongue flicked against you, slow and deliberate, while her fingers pinched and rolled your other nipple, the combination making you arch into her touch.

The sensations were overwhelming, but she didn’t stop. Her kisses moved lower, down your stomach, each one deliberate, leaving a burning trail in their wake. When she finally reached your core, she paused, her breath hot against your slick skin as she looked up at you with a smirk.

“Do you think you deserve this?” she asked, her voice dripping with mockery.

“Yes, mommy,” you whimpered, your hips shifting involuntarily, seeking contact.

“Hmm.” She pressed a single, maddeningly light kiss to your clit, making you gasp. “I’m not convinced.”

“Please,” you begged, your hands gripping the sheets as you fought the urge to reach for her. “Please, mommy, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” she echoed, her lips quirking in amusement. She leaned in again, her tongue flicking out to taste you, one slow, deliberate stroke that left you trembling. “Prove it.”

You didn’t have time to ask what she meant. Her tongue worked against you, relentless and precise, alternating between soft, teasing flicks and firm, demanding pressure. Her fingers joined the mix, sliding into you with practiced ease, curling just right to make you cry out.

You were a mess of moans and gasps, your body writhing beneath her as she brought you to the brink again and again, only to pull back just before you could fall. It was torture, exquisite and unbearable, and by the time she finally let you come, your scream was muffled only by your fist pressed against your mouth.

She didn’t stop. Even as your body shook with the aftershocks, she continued, her tongue and fingers driving you higher and higher until you were begging her to stop, your voice broken and pleading.

“Shh,” she cooed, finally pulling away. Her face was glistening, her lips red and swollen as she climbed back up to kiss you. The taste of yourself on her tongue was intoxicating, and you moaned into her mouth, your hands gripping her waist to pull her closer.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured against your lips, her voice soft for the first time all night. “Completely undone. Mine.”

“Yours,” you agreed breathlessly, the word carrying a weight you couldn’t quite put into words.

She smiled, her fingers brushing your cheek before she pressed another kiss to your lips. “Good girl.”

Agatha pulled you upright, her strength catching you off guard as she dragged you into her lap. Her skirt had ridden up completely, revealing smooth thighs that parted slightly as she adjusted you, her hands gripping your hips with bruising force. The heat between your bodies was electric, her eyes dark and dangerous as she pulled you flush against her.

"You're going to ride me now," she growled, her voice low and commanding, her fingers biting into your flesh. “Show me how much you want it.”

You whimpered, your breath catching as you felt it—her strap, thick and unyielding, already pressed against your entrance. You hadn’t even seen her put it on, but the realization sent a thrill down your spine. She shifted beneath you, angling her hips just right, the tip of the toy teasing your slick folds.

"Look at you," she purred, her lips brushing against your ear. "Dripping down my thigh already, like the needy little slut you are."

“Mommy,” you moaned, your voice trembling as your hands gripped her shoulders for support.

“Go on,” she said, her tone a delicious mix of mockery and command. “Sink down on it. Take me like the good little whore I know you are.”

Your body obeyed instinctively, your breath hitching as you lowered yourself onto her, inch by inch. The stretch was perfect—almost too much—but the way Agatha’s hands guided you, steady and possessive, made it impossible to stop. By the time you were fully seated, your legs were trembling, your body taut with need.

“Fuck,” Agatha hissed, her eyes locked on where your body swallowed her. She rocked her hips upward, a sharp thrust that made you cry out, your nails digging into her shoulders.

“Ride me,” she demanded, her voice rough. “Show me how badly you’ve been wanting this cock.”

You moved tentatively at first, your hips rolling in a slow rhythm as you adjusted to the fullness of her. But Agatha wasn’t having it. Her hands gripped your ass, guiding you with rough, forceful movements, driving you harder onto her strap. Each thrust made your body jolt, your moans spilling freely into the air.

"That’s it," she growled, her tone dripping with approval. "Fuck yourself on me. Let me see how desperate you are."

Your pace quickened, your movements growing frantic as pleasure coiled tight in your belly. Agatha’s nails raked down your back, her teeth grazing your neck before she bit down hard enough to leave a mark.

"Such a greedy little slut," she spat, her voice thick with lust. “Look at you, using my cock like you can’t get enough. You’re fucking pathetic.”

“Yes, mommy,” you gasped, the sting of her words only spurring you on. “I need it—I need you.”

"Yeah?" she taunted, her lips curling into a wicked grin. "You need me to fuck you like the worthless little whore you are?"

“Yes! Fuck—yes,” you cried, your movements growing erratic as her hands controlled your every motion, slamming you down onto her over and over. The sound of your bodies colliding was filthy, echoing in the room along with your broken moans.

Agatha shifted suddenly, her arm wrapping around your waist as she flipped you onto your back, keeping the strap buried inside you. Her hips snapped forward, pounding into you with relentless force. The new angle had you screaming, your nails clawing at her back as she fucked you mercilessly.

“Take it,” she growled, her voice rough and breathless. “Take every inch like the good little slut.”

Your legs wrapped around her waist, your heels digging into her ass as you matched her rhythm, the pleasure overwhelming. Her hand snaked between your bodies, her fingers finding your clit and rubbing it with ruthless precision.

“You’re going to come on my cock,” she hissed, her eyes blazing as she watched your face contort with ecstasy. “And when you do, you’re going to scream my name like the obedient little slut.”

“I—I can’t,” you stammered, the sensations too much, too intense.

“Yes, you can,” she snapped, her thrusts never faltering. “You don’t get to decide. I do. Now fucking come for me.”

Her words were your undoing. Your body shattered beneath her, your orgasm tearing through you like a wildfire. You screamed her name, your voice raw and desperate as your nails left marks on her skin. Agatha didn’t slow, driving you through the waves of pleasure until you were shaking, your mind blank and your body spent.

When she finally stopped, she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Good girl. You belong to me now.”

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-nine of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“The mahjong tiles are new,” Cissie observes, watching Tim just a shade too sharply. He internally hopes the others get here soon. He and Cissie arrived about the same time, and when she texted Bart to remind him they were all meeting up he showed up five seconds later, and Suzie was excited to see them but almost immediately ran off to get something. And Cassie and Kon had both said they’d be late–Cassie’s mom made her stay home for dinner, and Kon had just said something about something called “the Evil Factory” and a mission report he had to finish and then hung up without elaborating, which had totally not made Tim quietly insane or anything. 

The Evil Factory. What. What even is that? 

Tim needs to look into some things, clearly. 

“I’ve learned not to ask,” Tim says, and the look Cissie is giving him turns very pointed. 

“But you’re asking me about school?” she says. 

“Yes,” Tim says, because it’s not like she’s not perfectly aware he just did that, but also he doesn’t actually have to explain himself, so he just stops there. 

Cissie stares blankly at him. Tim keeps a neutral but approachable expression on his face. Filling an awkward silence is the first mistake any witness–or suspect–makes. 

She narrows her eyes, just barely, then opens her mouth to speak and–

“CISSIE,” Cassie wails from down the hall, and a second later she’s bolting into the room at full-speed and throwing herself at Cissie. Tim reflexively grabs for his bo and Cissie grabs for her–uh, bow–and Cassie makes an absolutely agonized noise and buries her face in Cissie’s lap. “I quit. I quit the team. I’m gonna ask Wonder Woman if I can move to Themyscira and I am never coming back.” 

. . . alright then, Tim thinks, just barely raising his eyebrows behind his mask. Maybe not a supervillain attack, then. 

“I’d really prefer it if you didn’t, actually,” Cissie says. “So like is this about your mom or–?” 

“Kon’s wearing clothes,” Cassie cuts her off despairingly, voice muffled in her folded arms and Cissie’s lap. 

“. . . I mean, I’d hope so?” Cissie says, patting the top of Cassie’s wig with a bewildered.expression as she sets her bow back down on the table. Tim–well, he might not hope that Kon was–never mind. But that seems like a pretty weird answer to that question either way. 

“You don’t understand,” Cassie groans. “I ran into him outside–he’s texting somebody or something, I don’t know, he said he was gonna be a minute–and he said ‘hi’ and he was wearing clothes and I tripped! I tripped in mid-air! I tripped in mid-air and he tried to help me up and I think I blacked out or something and then he laughed and he’s wearing clothes, Cissie!” 

Tim feels like maybe this is in some way “girl talk” and he shouldn’t necessarily be here, but also: what the hell is Cassie talking about? 

He also wonders who Kon’s texting and has the vaguely-annoyed thought that Cadmus might be bothering him or something. 

The subtle alert that means someone just texted Tim Drake’s phone goes off on his communicator and he makes a mental note to check it as soon as he can get a moment–it might be Dana or Mrs. Mac, or maybe one of the guys at school needs something, or . . . well, it could be his dad, technically, but statistically that’s not very likely, so– 

. . . why does he feel like he’s missing something right now, he thinks to himself, repressing a frown. What would he be missing? 

“Question: is this response proportional, or is this a ‘Code Superboy’ situation?” Cissie says. Cassie just groans all the more despairingly into her arms, not lifting her head at all. 

“This is a code black Superboy situation,” she says, and Cissie winces and pats her head again. Assuming their definition of “code black” aligns with Tim’s, that means “panic reaction; breakdown of mental/physical responses and capabilities”. So . . . yeah, that seems like a weird answer too. Just because Kon’s . . . what, outside and doing whatever he’s doing on his phone? While . . . wearing clothes? 

Tim really does not understand this conversation, yeah. 

Definitely a girl thing, he decides.

[earthchica]

Can't Hide Love

terry richmond x black, fem! reader

summary: you're afraid of getting hurt and denying the love you feel for Terry, so you reject him when he confesses his feelings for you, but later, you might regret that decision.

warnings: light angst, jealousy, playing mind games, use of the n-word, explicit smut (18+), dom/sub, thighjob, daddy kink, choking kink, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, friends to lovers, nicknames (shorty, lil mama, baby, baby girl), words: 2k

note:

sequel to I Want You

-

You and Terry sat across from each other at the small kitchen table, the morning sunlight streaming through the window and casting a warm glow on your plates.

As you both chewed your breakfast, an unspoken tension filled the air, making the clinking of cutlery sound almost deafening. You couldn’t help but notice how Terry's eyes held yours, their intensity unyielding.

After an eternity, you decided to break the silence, leaning forward slightly as you finally said, "Last night was real fun but it can't happen again."

Terry clenched his jaw and looked at you, confused. "Wait, what, why?" He asked, his voice earnest and searching, his eyes trying to uncover the truth.

"I mean… if you think I only want sex, then you're mistaken. I like you a lot, shorty. I've felt this way for a while now and would love to take you on a date.” He added.

His expression shifted as he processed your confession. “I like you too, Terry, but…” Your voice trailed off, thick with hesitation and unspoken feelings.

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach. “I just don’t think I can handle anything more than what we have; let's stay friends,” you finished, hoping to keep things uncomplicated.

Terry's disappointment was noticeable, and he tried to conceal the hurt rising in his chest. He nodded as if he understood, even though every part of him wanted to question your rejection.

“Okay!” he said with a shrug, quickly finishing his orange juice to mask his feelings. He moved to the sink to clean his plate, the sound of clinking dishes filling the silence between you.

You were taken aback by his reaction. “Okay, that’s it?” you asked, your brow furrowing as you crossed your arms, a mix of disbelief and concern surfacing within you.

Terry turned his head slightly, a blank look on his face. “What do you want to say?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in genuine curiosity. You took a breath and shook your head. "Nothing."

The two of you left at that, and a few days went by after you rejected him. You were busy preparing for your art gallery opening, feeling excited and nervous.

When the event finally kicked off, you scanned the crowd hoping Terry was coming to at least to support you. Your heart skipped a beat when he walked in with a bouquet of roses.

“Yo, look who made it!” Terry called out with a broad smile, and you felt a rush of warmth. Terry approached you and hugged you quickly before pulling away and handing you the bouquet.

“These are for you. I’m proud of you, shorty, for real. These pieces are dope.” Terry said, honestly looking around at your artwork and your heart fluttered.

“Oh, thank you, Terry. It means a lot to have you here, I thought you weren't coming after, you know,” you replied, trying to keep it cool despite the knot of mixed feelings in your chest.

"Hey...despite that, we're good!" Terry said, reassuring you and placing his hand on your shoulder. You smiled brightly, moving your eyes away.

You waved your assistant over, who wasn't too far away to take the bouquet to you before going back to Terry. “Come on, I want to show you my favorites,” you said, leading him through the gallery.

As you walked, you pointed out different pieces. “This one is inspired by the culture of New Orleans. I wanted to capture that moment of the people.”

Terry nodded, genuinely impressed. “I see you, shorty! That’s hot!” You smiled and continued to show him your work, each piece sparking a conversation-filled detailed explanation.

Finally, you stopped before a special painting that you had kept hidden. “And this one,” you said nervously, “is for you.” As Terry looked at the painting, his eyes widened.

It was a portrait of him, perfectly capturing his eyes and bright smile. “Wow, you painted me? I don't remember you asking for permission to use my likeness,” he joked, grinning widely.

“But I'll let it slide because this is really dope, girl. You really outdid yourself. You’ve got me looking good!” Terry remarked, studying the details closely.

Your heart fluttered as you replied, “Thank you. I'm glad you love it; it means a lot to me.” Terry nodded and stepped back, admiring the piece fully with a playful smirk.

“You once said you only paint intimate pieces like this when you’re in love. So, what does this mean?” he asked, looking into your eyes, searching for an answer.

You rolled your eyes, turning away from him. “Terry, this isn't the time or place.”

He stepped a little closer, a teasing grin still on his face. “Come on now, don’t act like I ain't onto something here. You gotta admit, this painting is special—just like us.”

You shook your head, trying to brush it off. “For real, Terry, drop it.”

“Why you gotta be like that? You know deep down you love me,” he said, his voice earnest but still playful. “I mean, who else you gonna paint like that? You had that canvas waiting just for me.”

You laughed softly, but it was a nervous laugh. “It’s just art, Terry. Ain’t gotta mean all that. You know I paint a lot of folks.”

Terry stepped even closer, leaning in a bit. “Nah, shorty, don’t play me. I see how you look at me when you think I ain't watching. You can't hide the love.”

You glanced over your shoulder, noting your other friends arriving. “Look, Lana and Kayla are here.” You took a step back, creating some space between you. “We can talk later, alright?”

He let out a sigh. “That's cool, and I know you’ll miss me when I move on.” As you walked away, you could feel him watching, his lingering gaze heavy on your back.

You greeted your other friends with a smile, hoping the moment with Terry would fade into the background. As the night went on, you went to look around for Terry.

Your eyes land on him as he chats with a stunning dark-skinned woman who is clearly attracted to Terry. She leans close, laughing at his joke while touching his arm.

You felt a pang of jealousy twist in your stomach. You decided to talk to him, hoping to get his attention. “Terry, can we talk for a second, please?”

Terry barely glanced your way, his attention still locked on the woman. “Yeah, just a sec!” he called, waving you off. You tilled your head, looking at him sideways.

You feel frustrated and a little petty, so you turn your gaze back to the crowd. Feeling bold, you spotted an attractive white guy across the room who seemed interested.

You walked over, flashing a charming smile, and began chatting and playfully flirting with the pretty man named Charles. You could feel Terry’s gaze, but you didn't look back.

You showed Charles some of your artwork, and you noticed Terry following you too closely, as did the woman he was walking to. You had where you just wanted.

“Hey, you wanna grab a drink after this?” Charles asked, leaning closer. You considered it, tempted to make Terry feel what you were feeling.

As you were about to answer with him, Terry finally broke away from the girl and stormed over. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his tone sharper than you expected.

“Just having fun, Terry, and meeting new people like Charles here,” you replied, crossing your arms as you shot him defiantly. “I thought you were busy talking to some girl .”

“Stop playing with me. You’re just trying to make me jealous, aren’t you?” he said, frustration evident in his voice. “I’m gonna go,” Charles replied.

You and Terry ignored him and he just walked away. “Yeah, only because you started it and completely ignored me talking to that trick?” you shot back.

Your words are laced with a bitter edge. A tense silence fell between you as the atmosphere crackled with unresolved emotions. Terry pulled you into the quiet space.

The tension between you was real, and confusion danced in his eyes. “Why you all pressed about me talkin’ to some girl?” he asked, his brow furrowed. “You turned me down, remember twice?”

You took a deep breath, feeling the heat of his body close to yours. “I know…T I messed up, okay? I’m just scared!” You said, the words tumbling before you could think.

“I didn’t want to get hurt. You know my last few relationships were rough. I thought shutting you out would help me, but it worsened everything.”

His expression softened, but he still looked conflicted. “So, you rejected me twice and then got mad when I started lookin’ elsewhere, then tried to make me jealous. Shit is childish, shorty.”

You nodded, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I know, and I'm sorry, but I realize I want to give this a chance; I want you, Terry, and I want to go on a date if the offer is still open.”

Terry stepped closer, his fingertips grazing your dark brown skin, sending shivers down your spine. “It's cool, and hurting you is the last thing I want to do, baby If I’m feelin’ you, I’m all in, no games.”

Your heart raced at his words, the warmth of his body drawing you in. “I want to be all in, too. Show me that taking this jump is okay," You said, you could feel the pull between you.

With that, he closed the gap, capturing your lips with his. All the pent-up tension exploded as you kissed him fiercely. The kiss deepened, and you could feel the world around you fade away.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. “I'll show you, baby, but first, let’s get out of here,” Terry suggested, and without a second thought, you followed him out of the event.

-

The familiar surroundings felt comforting and charged as you returned to the apartment. Both of you didn’t make it to either of the bedrooms.

Terry leaned in and kissed you hungrily in a sudden burst of lust, his lips warm against yours, his scuffed beard tickling you slightly. He gently pressed your back against the wall.

His hands were all over your body, removing your panties as his lips didn't even separate from yours. You pulled away, helped him out of his shirt, and then pushed his pants with his boxers down.

Terry kicks them off before unzipping your dress and taking it off. He cursed, biting his lip at the sight of your exposed breasts. "Terry" You let out a moan.

You grabbed the back of his head, feeling his braids. He twirled his tongue on your nipple like it was a sucker before sucking it into his mouth.

Terry looked up at you with those pretty light eyes of his with so much desire before popping your nipple off his mouth. He kisses you, dancing his tongue against yours.

He crouches with his legs wide out and gripping your hips. He begins thrusting his throbbing dick through the gap of your thighs. "You feel that, baby? You feel how hard you make me," Terry asked.

"Yes, fuck Terry. I feel so good; keep going, please," You moaned in pleasure, feeling him thrust faster through the soaking wetness of your pussy lips.

You throw your head back, loving the feel of his large hands gripping the plump rounds of your ass. "Mmm fuck" You bite your lip, rolling your hips and trying to match his rhythm slightly.

"Fuck, I need to be inside of that pretty pussy, baby." Terry moans, grabbing your hair roughly and pulling you into a kiss. He lifts your leg to hold you on his hip, and you look at him.

You licked your fingers and rubbed your clit before letting him line himself toward your pussy. He thrusts in slowly while looking deeply into your eyes.

You kissed him and gripped his shoulder as he began fucking you against the wall. "Ahhh, fuck me fuck me, Terry, this dick is good," you moaned in pleasure.

"You like getting fucked against the wall, huh, lil mama?" Terry asked, his voice low, watching your eyes roll back in your head, leading it against the wall.

He lifts you fully, grabs both of your legs under his arms, and begins pounding harder. "Oh my goodness, yes....and....you love this pussy don't you, huh?" You asked.

Your eyes seductively, staring into his soul. "Yeah, I fucking love this pussy, lil mama. This pussy is my mine, you hear me, nobody else? You got that?"

"Yes, yes, Terry, I got it, yes." You nodded at him with a light smirk, grabbing his neck as he continued pounding like a damn beast.

"Let me hear you, baby," Terry said, leaning your back against the wall and kissing your neck. You closed your eyes with your mouth in O, trying to get the words out.

"It's yours, all yours, Terry. Oh my goodness, I'm gonna cum." You moaned, feeling tears of joy coming down your face; the pleasure was so freaking good it brought you to tears.

"Cum, baby, cum on your dick because it's all yours," Terry moaned in your ear, and that is all you needed for you to let out the cry of his name, feeling yourself almost coming on down.

Terry puts you down slightly, has a hold on you to keep you steady, pulls out, and flicks his dick against your clit; you gasp, feeling a gushing of wetness coming out of your pussy.

"Ahhhh fucking shit, muthfucka," You cried, seeing the stars and feeling your body begin to tremble. You could feel yourself slowly falling from the wall.

Terry picks you up bridal style, takes you to your bedroom, and lays you down on your stomach on your bed. He lets you catch your breath as you come down from your high.

"Look at you, got you all breathless and shit; just know i'm not done with you, lil mama," Terry said, giving your ass smack, and you whimpered, feeling him hover over you.

Terry wraps his hand around your neck, gently but firmly tilting your head back, forcing you to look up at him. His intense gaze holds yours.

He kisses you passionately and thrusts inside of you harshly, slightly muffling your moans as he pulls away and grabs your lower back to get a different edge to go deeper.

"So fucking big and so fucking deep, fuck me," You moaned, gripping the sheets of the bed so tight you thought you were going to rip with your bare hands.

Terry lifts himself up and smacks your ass while gripping it in his large hand, watching it jiggle with his every thrust. "Shit, lil mama, after this you're gonna be my girl now.

"And I'm giving you what you deserve; you know I ain't like these other niggas. I'mma take you out and treat you right, okay! I know you love me. You tried to pretend, but I see through it," Terry added.

"Yes, I'm your girl; I wanted it and can't hide love anymore. I want it, Daddy, I love you," you cried out, more tears of joy coming down your face, which made him smirk.

His hands wrap around your neck as you let out loud moans as he thrusts faster and harder with force like no other than before, and he pauses his thrusts for a second, making you whine loudly.

"Say it again, say you love me again," Terry says, pulling out and slamming back into you hard, hitting your sweet spot, still holding your neck.

"Ahhh, I love you, Terry, ahhh fuck I loved you ever since we met," you screamed, feeling yourself coming hard. Terry continued to thrust until he had reached his own mind-blowing orgasm.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I love you too, baby," Terry said, pulling you into a kiss, feeling his cum spurt into your pussy. He pulls out, watching it drop out of you.

Terry falls against you on the bed a second before flips to lay on his back, and both of you lay there catching your breath. Eventually, you both took a shower.

Terry went to get some night clothes and returned dressed in sweatpants as if you were doing your night routine. You walk out of the bathroom into your bedroom.

You chuckled to see Terry get comfortable under your covers. You walked over to the bed, got in, and snuggled into his chest. You both held each other in a sweet, soft silence.

“You really mean what you said?” you asked, just needing reassurance from him. Terry looked deep into your eyes, his expression soft and beaming.

“I did. You deserve the world, baby girl, and I wanna give you that if you just let me,” he said, being honest. You smiled and said, “I’ma let you, Terry.”

“Good! Um... you meant it when you said you really love me, right? " he asked, and you smiled back and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I really do, Terry. I meant it.”

His eyes lit up with happiness, and he leaned closer, gently kissing your lips. As the moment's warmth enveloped you, you both fell asleep in each other's arms, hoping for the best in the future.

[crowhyun]

gym rat taehyun who you end us seeing frequently at the gym whenever you’re around too and he starts helping you out on some of the stuff and sexual tension and then BAM, sex

a/n: I haven't written smut in so long so please bare with me 😭 I'm trying to get back into the groove of it but I've kinda lost confidence though I hope that doesn't show in my works lol. I hope you enjoy this, anon, and thank you for requesting!!

Warnings: smut, pnv, exhibitionism, unprotected sex but hyun's pull out game is top tier, I would know

WC: 1.8k

The gym a few blocks away from your apartment was always too crowded for your taste. Midday was the worst, with every piece of equipment occupied, and the ones that weren't were a sweaty mess due to peoples' lack of politeness.

Though, around 10PM was always the best time to go. It was much less crowded, and it was almost calming, in a way.

You, along with a few other late night gym rats, took this time to your advantage. The gym was nearly empty, and hip-hop music played quietly from the speakers. The sound of equipment moving and barbells clanking was miniscule compared to how it usually was.

Though, you'd be lying to yourself if you said that that was the only reason you came to the gym at that time.

Your other reason - your main reason - was currently at the pull-up bar, biceps bulging and sweat dripping down his clear skin as he effortlessly hoisted himself up on the bar. You were quite familiar with this man, or at least as familiar as you could get from afar. Without fail, he'd always be at the gym at this time, always alone, and ever so efficient in his workouts.

You tried not to stare as you leisurely stretched. You weren't in the mood for heavy lifting or cardio, yet you were fully intent on boy watching.

After what seemed like over a dozen pull-ups, the man hopped down from the bar, turning around with a hand on his hip to grab his towel, and you quickly looked away to not get caught ogling. To look busy, you continued with your stretching, doing basic stretches to pass the time. You were so distracted trying to look busy that you hadn't even noticed a certain someone approaching until you heard his voice.

"Your form isn't good." He said, causing you to flinch and sir upright, staring right at the man who was sipping from his water bottle.

Is he talking to me?, you thought. Though, he was obvious who he was talking to, due to his large brown eyes seemingly piercing into your soul. "...huh?" Was all that you could muster out.

"Sorry." He apologized, screwing his water bottle shut. "I don't mean to bother you, but I just thought that I should tell you that your form isn't very good. You might hurt yourself."

Your lips went into an O-shape as you realized what he was saying, and you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. You fully expected him to just walk away after that, but he spoke once more.

"I can help with some stretches if you'd like." He said. "I'm no personal trainer, but I know a thing or two."

"Oh...you'd do that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you inwardly fangirled, knowing that this was the perfect opportunity to get closer to the man you've been crushing on.

"Yeah, of course." He nodded, placing his water bottle down and coming closer, your heart beating a mile a minute. He gave you a sweet smile before he bent down to your level, and you got a close up look at his sweaty skin and well built arms, causing you to shiver in anticipation.

"See, when you're doing lunge stretches, you have to make sure your back is flat and your core is engaged so that you can keep your balance." He said, his voice soft, though the near emptiness of the gym made it seem as if he were loud and clear. He got into position beside you, showing off the proper way to stretch, and you followed suit.

Throught the stretches, you had learned that his name was Taehyun, and he was pretty flexible himself. You may have even purposefully made yourself seem incompetent in your stretches so that he wouldn't leave anytime soon. It was getting later and later, but you didn't want to go home - not yet.

"Hamstring stretches are a bit harder, as most people don't stretch for long enough." He informed you, gently pushing you onto your back. "How flexible are you?" He asked, helping you to hike your leg up. You were hyper aware of the feeling of his strong hands on you, and the change of position nearly made you dizzy.

"Uh, maybe moderately?" You spoke, clearing your throat in an effort to sound like your panties weren't starting to get damp.

"Moderately?" He chuckled with a slight tilt to his head. "We'll see about that then, yeah? Just tell me when it's too much." He said, his hand circling around your calf as he started to slowly push your leg up...up...and up.

You winced a bit, the stretch starting to get painful, but you were too distracted by how he placed his other hand right on your thigh.

"There you go." He encouraged, your leg straight up and pushed against his shoulder as he kneeled down in front of you. "How're you feeling? Think you can go a bit more?"

"I can definitely feel the stretch." You chuckled, your heartrate beating a mile a minute. "I think I can go further, though."

With that, he started to slowly push your leg up once more, your thigh almost touching your chest. "Hmm, you're pretty flexible, aren't you?" He spoke, and you don't know if it's the rising desire within you or not, but his voice was starting to sound more...intimate.

"I didn't...I didn't realize before now." You said, finding it hard to breathe.

"Good thing you have me here then, huh?" He smirked, the sight making your walls clench around nothing. He then started to slowly lower your leg before doing the same to the other one. Your breath hitched at the stretch, and you winced.

"Fuck..." You whispered, unable to keep it in.

"Just a bit more, you got it." He said, his whisper matching yours as he stretched you further. His torso pressed against your leg, and you couldn't help yourself from taking a peek down between your legs. Truthfully, you just wanted to make sure you didn't completely soak through your leggings, but instead, you got a glimpse of what Taehyun was packing. The dim light of the gym reflected on the bulge in his gym shorts, and you literally felt your heart beat in your clit.

You quickly looked back up, eyes slightly widening, just to see that he was making eye contact with you. There was a certain gleam in his eyes that told you that he knew exactly what you were looking at.

If that didn't tell you enough, then his next actions did.

Stretching your leg so that your thigh met your chest, he positioned himself so that he was pressing up against you, and your breath hitched once you felt his bulge directly press against your clothed heat.

Shit...he's so close.

"There you go..." He said, his voice dangerously lustful. "Now you're all stretched out for me."

You weren't exactly sure when the switch flipped, and at this point, you didn't care if you were soaking through your leggings or not. You weren't crazy, his voice definitely held some underlying tension there, and neither of you could hide from it.

"Now that you're all stretched out, you can work out safely, no matter how hard."

Next thing you know, your leggings were hanging off of one leg, and your panties were pushed to the side to accommodate for how Taehyun's girth was stretching you out in a completely different way.

Sweat dripped down the strands of his wet hair, and your leg was hiked up on his shoulder, ensuring that you had no way to hide from just how deliciously he was rocking his hips into yours.

It was a caconaphy of hushed moans, grunts and whimpers, the sounds of your bodies colliding. You but your lip harshly to try and silence yourself even though you were pretty sure the gym was empty at this time. Taehyun's cock ruthlessly massaged your g-spot with each thrust, and he groaned in ecstacy as your nails dug into his arms in order to brace yourself.

"Ah- ah- ah-" Staccato moans left your lips as your body jerked each time his tip slammed against that spot within you, his pelvis hitting your clit over and over again.

"Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned, his brows furrowed in concentration, solely focused on fucking you dumb on his cock.

A loud keen ripped from your throat as he slightly adjusted his positioning, his cock hitting so deep inside your fluttering walls. Your hips bucked up and your other leg lifted, the urge to close your legs and run away from the numbing pleasure growing greater.

"Nuh-uh." Taehyun tsked, shaking his head as he roughly spread your legs, his cock pushing deeper inside of you. "C'mon, you can take it. Take this cock." He grunted, gifting you with a particularly harsh thrust that had you reeling.

Your head fell back on the mat underneath you and your thighs shook. You could feel his cock throb inside of you, his low grunts only driving you closer to the edge. You then gasped loudly, your jaw dropping and your body tensing.

"C-cumming, I'm cum-" You stammered out, only to cut yourself off with a high pitched moan that would've been impossible for you to keep in. Your pussy walls clamped around Taehyun's thick shaft like a vice, and he felt like he was seconds away from absolutely losing it at the way your fucked out face contorted into barely concealed pleasure as you creamed all around his cock.

He wrapped his hands around your wrists, holding you down as he pumped faster, his balls tightening as he saw completion on the horizon. "Mmmh, that's it...cum on my cock just like- hah- that." He groaned, his jaw clenching as his blunt nails dug into your wrists, and before he knew it, he couldn't take anymore.

He was quick to pull out of your tight heat, which was almost painful, but that no longer mattered to him, because his hot, thick cum was spurting out of his glistening cock and onto your stomach. The hottest whine left his throat as he came down from his high, his chest heaving up and down, and his eyes darting down to your fucked out form.

A few minutes of comfortable silence passed, the only sound being the low volume of the music playing through the gym speakers and the sound of the both of you catching your breaths.

"Well, uhm..." He suddenly spoke, clearing his throat. You noticed that he was avoiding eye contact, and the tips of his ears were tinted red.

Was he...embarrassed?

You fought the urge to laugh as he continued.

"If you just, uh...do those stretches before every workout, you should be good to go." He said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Thanks..." You spoke, your voice a bit hoarse. "For helping me stretch...and for the little present you gave me." You said, referring to his seed that was splattered across your stomach, seeping down to your belly button.

His eyes widened and he choked, almost as if he forgot that he had came on you.

"I'll...deal with that."

[bubblesgarden]

always you — john b x reader

｡˚○ navigation

summary: you and john b have been friends for years, but when kiara carrera comes along, things become different.

author's note: hi guys ! this is my very first piece of work i've posted here and i really hope you enjoy it ♡ if you did, please consider giving this a like, reblog, or comment ! feel free to give me a follow if you'd like to see more ♡

you were just eight years old when you first met john b. he had scraped knees and an untamed mop of hair, but his smile was infectious— like how the sun shone through your curtains on a summer morning, or when you listened to a song for the first time and would have it on repeat constantly. and before you knew it, you were spending every single day together. the two of you inseparable, running wild, dreaming up adventures, and sharing secrets that you swore would never leave the walls of the chateau.

for years, it was you and him— two kids hand in hand, against the world. at least, it felt that way.

but then kiara carrera came along. she was cool, easy going, and fit into the group so effortlessly that you couldn’t really blame john b for wanting to hang out with her. at first, it didn’t bother you— after all, kie was great. but slowly, you noticed the dynamic start to shift.

the days where it was just you and john b became fewer and farther between. instead of running off to hide up in the treehouse in your backyard for hours, or lay smushed up together on the hammock at the chateau while you stared at the stars to talk about everything and nothing, he was suddenly too busy. too preoccupied. with kiara. 

at first, you tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter. john b was allowed to have other friends. but as days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, the sting of being phased out by your best friend since childhood was too much to ignore.

one night, after another gathering around a fire where you felt like a shadow in your own group; constantly being talked over or ignored completely, you decided you’d had enough.

you didn’t exactly know what you were going to say— there were too many things running through your mind that you were positive it was all going to turn into a bunch of word vomit when you’d eventually face him. or you’d end up freezing. there was no in between unfortunately. 

so when you finally approached the chateau, you found john b sitting on the porch, sipping on a beer as he gazed out at the stars. the glow of the moonlight highlighted the familiar curve of his jaw, and those messy curls you had ruffled a thousand times before.

“can we talk?” you ask, skipping the introductions and small talk. that would just make this worse, you thought. you stepped up onto the creaky wood, arms crossed over your chest, almost in a way to hold yourself together. 

he turned to you, surprised. almost like he had forgotten you existed— surprised to see you here, where you had been day after day, and night after night, during your years of being friends. it wasn’t unusual at all for you to show up unannounced, but right now, with that look on his face, apparently it was unusual. 

“yeah, of course,” he nodded, motioning for you to sit down on the tattered, old couch on the porch. sitting down beside him, you folded your arms around your knees. for a moment, the silence stretched between you, awkwardness and the sound of cicadas filling the void.

“what happened to us?” you broke the silence, voice barely above a whisper but still steady as you turn your head to look at him. he hadn’t changed much all these years— still had that stupid boyish charm that seemed to get him out of trouble, and those same, soft eyes. 

you felt him stiffen besides you, and you almost scoffed. “what do you mean?” he asks, his tone matching yours.

“you know what i mean,” you sigh, the hurt you’d been bottling up spilling into your words. “it used to be you and me. we spent every day together. and then all of a sudden kie came along, and it’s like… i don’t exist anymore.”

his brows furrowed, and you saw the guilt flash across his face. “that’s not true.” you could pinpoint his defensive tone from a mile away— the same tone he would use when he got in trouble for something he did do, but always tried to claim he didn’t. 

“isn’t it?” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head a little. “come on, john b. you barely talk to me anymore. if i didn’t come looking for you, i don’t even think you would have noticed i wasn’t around.”

“that’s not fair.”

“neither is feeling like i lost my best friend.”

the crack in your voice must’ve struck something inside him because you watched as his defences crumbled. he set his beer down, running a hand through his already messy curls as he sighed deeply.

“it wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he spoke, his voice quiet.

“then why was it?” you pressed, eyes still trained on him.

he hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting away before they finally met yours again. “because i screwed up.”

your brows furrowed, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he said quietly.

john b exhaled shakily. “i started… feeling things i wasn’t supposed to feel. about you. and i thought if i got closer to kie, it would— i don’t know, distract me or something. make it go away.” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “but it didn’t. it just made everything worse because i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, the weight of his confession settling over you like a blanket. “so, what? you just pushed me away instead of telling me the truth?”

“i didn’t want to ruin what we had.” his voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw the fear in his eyes. “you’re my best friend, and if you didn’t feel the same way— i can’t lose you, (y/n). i thought maybe if i kept my distance, it would hurt less.” 

you swallowed the lump in your throat, emotions churning in your stomach. anger, hurt, but underneath it all, a flicker of something you had buried a long time ago. 

“john b—”

“i’m sorry,” he cut you off, voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. i just— i didn’t know what else to do.”

you searched his face, the boy you’d known for many years looking at you like he was afraid you might disappear. that you might run away and never speak to him again. 

“you’re an idiot,” you laughed softly, shaking your head. 

he looked startled, blinking in confusion. “what?”

“all this time, you were scared of ruining our friendship, and you didn’t even think to ask how i felt.”

“how you felt?” he repeated, brow furrowing. the pure confusion over his features made you want to laugh, but instead you just rolled your eyes. 

“i liked you too, john b. i still do.”

his eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in them like the fireflies dancing in the yard. “you do?”

“yeah,” you admitted, your voice softening. “but you’re going to have to make up for being a complete idiot about it.”

a slow, disbelieving grin spread across his face. “i think i can manage that.” 

before you could get another word out, he leaned in, hand brushing against yours as he closed the distance. the kiss was tentative at first, a question in the way his lips moved against yours. but when you didn’t pull away, you felt as he deepened the kiss, like he was trying to make up for all that time he’d wasted worrying. 

when you finally broke apart, he let out a breathless chuckle, resting his forehead against yours. 

“i’m never phasing you out again,” he promised.

“oh so you were phasing me out?” you tease, resulting in several pokes to your side by the curly haired male in protest.

“okay— okay! but seriously. you better not,” you said, a small smile pulling at your lips.

and just like that, it was you and john b again. always had been. always would be.

[beware-of-pity]

You believe me like a god

(I destroy you like i am)

Your family was dead; everyone had been killed. The war had been fought, many had died, and the victor had ascended the throne in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Everyone was dead…..except you, your mother and your little niece, Jaehaera.

Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

TW: Self-hatred/Implied Self Harm. Complicated family relations. The reader is a Targtower.

A/N: This is a blend of both the show and the book, so if most characterisations (mostly the greens) don't add up to you, it's because of that. (since the show has been....something, as of late). Also, Silverwing is now your dragon, for story's sake.

Cross posted on Ao3 : Chapter 1: I fell in love with a war (nobody told me it ended)

Chapter 1: I fell in love with a war (nobody told me it ended)

Your family was dead; everyone had been killed. 

The war had been fought, many had died, and the victor had ascended the throne in the name of Rhaenyra Targaryen, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. 

Everyone was dead…..except you, your mother and your little niece, Jaehaera.

After the Blacks captured the capital and killed your brother Aegon and the rest of your family, your sister ruled the Seven Kingdoms unchallenged. Prince Jacaerys, her son and your nephew, was named the prince of Dragonstone in front of the whole of the realm. Her other sons were given high places of honour at her court, her family was praised and became the subject of songs and tales through the realm, while you and your remaining family became royal afterthoughts. 

Rhaenyra had been unsure of what to do with you when she had taken hold of the capital. At the time, you had the comfort of your older sister Helaena, who you comforted and held most of the time, especially after she had fallen into the grief of madness at the death of her eldest son. She had allowed you relative freedom, more than your mother was allowed, as she had been confined and chained to the dungeons of the keep, gaining her the name ‘The Queen in Chains’. In her ways, you suppose, she had tried to get close to you in an effort to reconcile the break the war had caused to your family, and despite how you had never seen her in the same way your mother had all her life, you remained unresponsive to her approaches. The wounds were too deep, and you weren’t sure you could forgive what had taken place the night Blood and Cheese stormed the castle, even with the knowledge that she had not been the one to orchestrate the siege but rather your uncle Daemon, in the name of revenge for the death of your nephew Lucerys. 

But when Helaena had thrown herself off the highest window of the keep, losing her life after getting impaled by the spikes surrounding it, Rhaenyra had given up hope for reconciliation.  Helaena was the closest family member you had, after your mother, never properly gettin' along with your brothers, except for Daeron. Safe to say, her death had broken you and left you unresponsive to each news of peril coming to your faction. 

When the news of Aemond’s death at the end of your uncle Daemon reached you, you did not shed a tear, and when Daeron died you said you had no time for them. They would be futile, tears did not reach the dead, after all. 

Amidst bloodshed and warmongering, there was but one person you allowed in the solitude your life had taken hold of; Your nephew, Jacaerys. 

It was he who had dismissed the attempts of his mother’s council of sending you away to Old Town to become a Septa or making you a lady in waiting to his step-sisters Baela and Rhaena, who they too took no comfort in the notion. You were their prisoner, yes, but no one must forget that you and Jaehaera were their family, of royal blood, and with peace now upon the realm, proving discord lingering still was not how the House of the Dragon would rebuild itself.  

Jacaerys had convinced them to keep you hostage, using you to keep in line the great houses that had fought alongside the greens - but that was a notion he used only for his allies and councillors. You were more than just a hostage for him, always having been. You were his aunt, one he cherished so. 

Since you were the same age, you had grown up together. You shared a wet nurse in infancy and were often taught your lessons by the same measter. 

You never shared the same dislike your brothers had for him and his brothers, and even so, you thought the notion of Jacaerys stealing Aegon and Aemond’s birthrights, which they and your mother believed in, to be utterly ridiculous. He couldn’t steal something that was not theirs in the first place; he got what he had from his mother, your sister, who had rights over the iron throne long before they were even born. To say you were heartbroken when your sister had taken residence on Dragonstone, taking her children with her, would be an understatement. You were more pained when the next time you saw him was the same night Aemond lost his eye. 

Aemond played the helpless victim of a deliberate attack by your nephews and cousins in public as he spouted devious words about them in private while gloating at his great accomplishment, claiming Vaghar for the greens. Words you tried to reprimand him for, which, in turn, turned his anger to you. It’s not that you didn’t condone his lost eye, but for him to be rid of guilt and his part in the ordeal always ticked you in the wrong way. His anger had always been his least strong suit, narcissism only growing from there, thinking himself invincible, which only resulted in him making rush decisions that gained him but a brief advantage, such as marching to Harrenhall and leaving King’s Landing undefended, giving the perfect opening for your sister to fly and claim as her own. 

You had been among the few asking for Aegon to send for peace. The damage was done, the throne was usurped, though everyone refused to call it so, and you couldn’t do anything about that. When Helaena suggested peace terms, she did so with your support as well as that of your mother and grandmaster Orwyle.

 But Aemond had to go and ruin everything. 

You thought of escaping then, wanting to bring along Helaena and her little ones, flying on Silverwing and Dreamfyre to Dragonstone, bending the knee and seeking protection before Rhaenyra’s wrath befell your family. But how could you? Helaena and you have been separated from Rhaenyra since you two were young, occasionally seeing her when her family visited King’s Landing, you didn’t know the woman or how she would react to you showing up at her doorsteps. 

Besides, you two had been securely under Alicent's thumb for your whole lives, and the thought of your mother thinking you a traitor filled you with panic. You couldn’t betray her or make her believe you had. You and Helaena had been robbed of autonomy your entire lives, but you did try to help Rhaenyra when you two could. So, when Helaena was punished alongside Aegon for something Aemond had done, you felt all the more guilty for not having done more for your siblings. 

If before you had been worried about losing everything, now that you had nothing, you spent your days mute, not doing anything. When your mother was allowed to visit, you turned her away, not wanting to hear of her maddening and secretive plans to place you or Jaehaera on the throne. 

You were told she mostly cried, ripped her old gowns and threw the books given to her out of the windows of her room. You cared for her still, but not enough to deal with her when you too were not doing any better. 

You were not allowed outside, in case you tried an escape, unless Jacaerys or a group of guards accompanied you. You were not allowed to dine with everyone in the great hall and most of all you were deprived of Silverwing. The last you saw or rode her was before Rhaenyra had taken King’s Landing…..and how long ago was that? A year….two? You couldn’t tell….you had lost perception of time.

Jacaerys always proved courteous and kind, just as he had before the war. Even when you were stripped of your room and placed in a smaller one, your staff diminished to only a few trusted maids of his mother, and your gowns relegated to simple, black ones, he always made sure you had everything you needed, which you were grateful for. What he couldn’t give you though, was the thing that pained you the most. 

He brought you books, needles and points to pass your time, and kept you company when he was free of his duties. But it was all futile, nothing could quelch the sting of pain in your heart. 

You wandered the halls like a ghost, the black of your gowns making you blend in the darkness. Some say you were dead inside or having died the day your sister had. Nevertheless, Jacaerys’ attempts at bringing light to your life never ceased. He brought you flowers which you kept in vases in your room, but that with barely any light or air in the smallness of it all, died by the days. As so, he’d let you plant your flowers in the gardens of the Keep. Even though you barely spoke after the death of your entire family, taking care of the flowers made you happy.

You were allowed to bring Jaehaera with you, the little girl taking to you as if you were her mother, and if you were mute, she was another case altogether. Jaehaera was born tiny and slow to grow. She did not cry or smile or act as babies normally would. Her lack of emotion continued as she grew older. She is sweet but a simple girl in mind.  She loved the flowers you planted, which you encouraged for her to pick and take with her to her room.

You two were often asked to attend court, to remember others of your presence and what they meant. Jaehaera would clutch your hand as you held hers, standing as close to you as she could and more so she could hide behind the panels of your skirt. Those days were those she dreaded most; she hated being looked at, especially by so many people, but your presence beside her gave her enough strength and courage to withstand the ordeal. 

Those were also the days you had begun begging your sister to allow you for things. You would kneel, if necessary, in front of the iron throne which she set upon, asking her in front of the eyes of the court to allow you for simple things, the simple pleasures you had long forgotten the taste of, such as one more gown for you or Jaehaera, the companionship of more maids, or for you to see your dragon.

She would accept every request of yours except for the last, she never accepted the last. But you held the same stubbornness every Targaryen was born with, one she had, and saw in her children too. Your requests became more frequent, sometimes, they were frantic, at times, you cried, while at others, you just asked with the monotony of a dead woman. How low of you, some thought, a royal princess, the daughter of a King long gone, having to beg her sister on her knees. 

While it pained Rhaenyra to turn you down, the pain you felt was one she would never understand. Jacaerys would watch from the sideline all the time, knowing he couldn’t interject with his mother’s word, but none of it made it easier for him to see you so torn down by the reality which you now lived in.

So, one night, he went to his mother, suggesting the one thing he could only come up with.

“Let me take her on Vermax” he had said “if you’re worried about her flying away, with me beside her and on a dragon not of her own, she surely will have nowhere else to go”

Rhaenyra couldn’t object to her son’s words, as so, she relented, though not without a few warnings and orders on her part, which Jacaerys was more than happy to relent to. 

At last, when he came to your room the morning after, he did so with an air so light, it startled you. 

“You wouldn’t mind dressing in your riding fit, would you?” He asked, taking you by slight surprise 

“What do you mean?” You didn’t know if he was making fun of you, and if he were you thought he was doing so in a really bad taste

“I want you to come ride with me” he walked closer, taking your hand in his “Fly on Vermax with me. I know you wish to take to the skies, and Mother has agreed to my request,” he said.

Vermax was small, having grown only to the size of a middle-sized dragon. When you sat upon his saddle, which was tight for two people, such as you and Jacaerys, you only reminisced about Silverwing’s leathery one. Only having to hang around the handle, not being able to pull at the reins or command the dragon, only deepened your yearning for the many rides you had taken in the past and the freedom to do so again. 

You had thanked him, but the gratitude felt hollow when your heart ached so much, and perhaps he had seen through you too. You felt guilty for complaining about such an opportunity and the rarity you had been given. You should be grateful, but what was here to be grateful for when you were a caged bird, in a golden cage, whose wings were ripped from its body? 

You had become hot-tempered, wishing harm on others and yourself, cursing in despair, and picking up one of your mother’s most destroying traits, her nail picking. Your cuticles were often raw and bloody from you either picking at or chewing at them. You did the same to your lips, pulling at the dead skin, drawing blood, the sting making you hiss and following you for days.

You ordered for the curtains of your room not to be drawn, preferring the glow of candles and the scent of incense, even during the day. You visited the sept, the royal one in the Red Keep, not the Grand one in the city, always followed closely by your Septa and guard, lighting candles for the lost souls of your family and for those that had fought for you.

You picked at your food, often leaving it untouched; you had no fondness for meat and mead, leaving you famished and pushing down food when your stomach was begging you for substance. 

Eating yourself alive was the last thing you thought you would be doing if you were to look into your future long ago, but now even the feel of your skin made your fingers crawl over it with the intent to rip and tear apart. How hypocritical of you to send your mother away because of her descent into madness when you were carrying yourself down your own. 

But you weren’t mad, you were unhappy, and unhappy people often were also depressed, which you were.

You only wanted to be happy, to be free, to do as you pleased after years of having been conditioned to the bids of others. First, it was your mother’s, and now they were Rhaenyra’s and her family's. You dream of a time when you could live for the simple pleasure of living, not someone else’s life but your own, not the one others envisioned for you but the one you dreamt for yourself. To breathe the open air, to walk where you wished, whenever you wished so. 

Was it so wrong of you?

The gods are cruel, that’s why they’re gods, and the curse of your family being usurpers now laid all on you. You suffered from the sins which your mother perpetuated, from those her own father sowed the seeds he planted with his ambitions in the dirt laid and worked by your ancestors. You held the rage of all those women before you, your mother’s, her mother’s too, that of your sister and the people at her heel and call. 

All because of who you were. 

[typicalopposite]

fuck it friday

Ok so technically it’s still Thursday but it’s like REALLLLY late Thursday! and @beanarie asked for 9-15 sentences of amnesia fic so to kill two birds with one stone I’m giving 15+ quite a bit more to make it a good little snippet 🫣 (also it’s a Thanksgiving scene sooo 🫶)

“Tommy!” Howie exclaims happily, leaving his arms open long enough it’s clear he’s waiting for a hug. With that big cheesy overly happy smile, who is Tommy to deny an old friend. He laughs as he leans down into Howie’s embrace, and tries to swallow the lump that feeling so welcomed back into their family causes. Maddie is already at Howie’s side ready for her turn and after she pulls him in he feels little arms wrap around his legs. Jee smiles up at him, and he— okay, he’s a little glad he came. 

Eddie and Chris get to him next and it’s the first time he’s seen Chris— that he remembers— since he left for Texas. The kid’s creeping up on being his height, it shouldn’t make him emotional; it does make him emotional. “Hey Tommy!” Chris says with a bright smile, and damn it’s good to see him genuinely happy again, Eddie too. More hugs ensue. This is… nice. He thinks he might even be able to drown out the inevitable awkwardness coming if he keeps riding this high. 

Bobby is out back deep frying the turkey and Athena catches Tommy when he’s dropping his measly pan of devil eggs and store bought rolls off in the kitchen. “You came!” she says with a shock smile. “Oh, I’m glad!” She opens her arms and then it’s more hugging— passing him off to Karen, and even Hen. That’s just about everyone, Tommy thinks… 

“Oh… Tommy!” 

God, he really hopes he is able to control his face. 

Dylan pulls the patio door shut behind him, and makes his way over to where Hen and Tommy are still lingering in the kitchen while she fills him in on everything recent with Denny and Mara. Try as he may, he can't stop the tension tightening every muscle in his body as the lone stranger (to him) approaches. “Uhm, hey…” he replies, trying to not sound hostile… wondering if he sounds hostile anyway. 

“You know,” Dylan says, a surprisingly genuine smile spreading across his face. “We have yet to be properly introduced.” He extends his hand— Tommy does a quick scan of it to make sure there’s no shock button— and he waits patiently for Tommy to make the next move. He swallows every ounce of pride, jealousy, and resentment and shakes the guy's hand. He is met with as firm a grasp as he gives and Dylan’s smile doesn’t falter when he says, “Better late than never thought, am I right? Come on, Buck is out back.” 

Tommy feels his brows pulling together, and Dylan nods towards the glass door where Evan is staring in at them. He quickly waves once he is caught, and Tommy really hopes he can control his face as he waves back, feeling the flood of butterflies he has no right to still get… especially not standing three feet from Evan’s boyfriend. Dylan puts a hand on his shoulder, nudging him in the direction of the door; he nudges him in the direction of Evan, and can’t help but feel a little weird being pushed towards his ex by his ex's new boyfriend. 

Bobby hugs him as soon as he steps outside, which is expected; Evan stalls for only a moment before hugging him as well, which was not. Tommy can’t help but try to sneak a peak of Dylan. He half expects him to speak up, or lash out… What right does Tommy have to hug Evan? He doesn’t seem bothered in the least. He lets Evan get his hug, then reclaims his spot at Evan’s side, and although there’s not much Tommy is feeling too particularly thankful for in this very stressful and confusing point in his life… he’s thankful Dylan doesn’t appear to be threatened by him in Evan’s life. 

The day passes far smoother than Tommy had anticipated, and the Dylan of it all is nowhere near the thorn in his side Tommy had thought he would be. In fact, Dylan is— fuck, he is great, actually. as much as it pains him to admit it, Dylan really seems good for Evan. He is charming, and funny. He gets along with everyone; he talks about Evan’s parents like they get along well, too. Tommy wants to find things to be jealous of, but he makes himself so likable it’s hard to justify not liking him. Most importantly he looks at Evan like he hung the moon, and can make Evan smile and blush the way Tommy used to be able to do... 

At least he calls him Buck. At least Tommy gets to keep Evan. He supposes he’s thankful for that, too.

and throwing in the tags for those who want to join in and those who are following the fics progress (let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

@30somethingautisticteacher @sunnywithachanceofbi @nine-one-wanton @herrmannhalsteadproduction @judymarch15

@onthewaytosomewhere @lavenderleahy @bangpop91 @hyperfocusthusly @weewookinard

@beanarie @leashybebes @somethingaboutfirefly @silversky9 @bucksxkinard

@sweaters-and-silly @quintessenceofdust88 @sierrarreads @saibowtie @kinardsevan

@unhingedangstaddict @portinastorm @ladyeyrewrites @rubydaiquiri

@mmso-notlikethat @a-mel0n @rdng1230 @fenrirscarsback

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 15

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, mentions of selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions of death, use of knife, attempted stabbing, physical fight, mentions of blood

Chris' POV

The docks were eerily quiet, saved for the occasional rustle of the wind and the soft lapping of water against the boats. I pulled in, parking beside Vince’s car. The headlights of my car cut across his figure as he leaned against the frame of the smallest cargo warehouse, a cigarette glowing faintly in his hand. He didn’t move, just stood there, watching me approach like a predator sizing up its prey.

As I stepped out, the salty breeze hit my face, carrying with it the distinct smell of oil and decay. I wrapped my green bandana around the lower half of my face, always precautionary, but now more than ever with Y/n in my life. Vince flicked the cigarette to the ground as I closed the car door, crushing it beneath his boot with a deliberate twist. His sharp eyes pinned me as I approached, the silence stretching thin.

“You’re late.” he said, his tone clipped but calm, which somehow made it worse.

“I had something come up” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. The last thing I needed was for him to sense my nerves.

Vince’s lips twitched into a humorless smirk. “Yeah? Well, let’s hope that ‘something’ doesn’t make you useless to me.” He turned on his heel, motioning for me to follow as he strode toward the warehouse.

I fell in step behind him, every muscle in my body tense. This wasn’t the first time I’d been summoned to the docks, but something about tonight felt different. Off.

The place was usually locked up tight, with Vince and the higher ups all with a key to get in, its interior full of shelves and crates, all meticulously organized to hide the cartel’s stash. Tonight, though, the door was ajar, the faint beam of a flashlight was darting across the rows of supplies.

I stopped dead in my tracks, Vince, however, just stood there, arms crossed, watching with an infuriating calm as the figure inside turned toward us.

The flashlight’s beam swung toward my face, and in the moment of blinding light, I caught sight of him, a man, mid 20s, with a lean build and a face I recognized instantly. He wasn’t one of ours.

“Shit” I muttered under my breath, my fists clenching.

The guy didn’t run. He stood his ground, his hand reaching into his jacket – a knife. That simple motion sent a bolt of adrenaline through me. This wasn’t just some idiot who’d stumbled onto cartel territory. He was H Block. And he was here to steal from us.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a rat,” Vince tilted his head, his gaze flicking to me. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he said, his tone almost bored. “Handle it.”

Handle it.

My chest tightened as the words sank in. But before I could think, the guy lunged at me, his knife glinting in the dim light. I barely dodged in time, stumbling back as the blade sliced through the air inches from my chest.

Instinct took over. I swung at him, my fist connecting with his jaw in a sharp crack. He staggered but didn’t go down. Instead, he came at me again, his movements wild and fueled by desperation.

The fight quickly devolved into chaos, our grunts and curses echoing off the walls of the warehouse. My fists were a blur, every punch landing with a sickening thud, but he was no amateur. He fought dirty, landing a blow to my ribs that knocked the wind out of me.

“Come on, Kid!” Vince’s voice rang out behind me, sharp and taunting. “Show him who he’s messing with!”

The guy swung at me with his unarmed fist, splitting my lip in the process, luckily, he wouldn’t get the luxury of seeing it through my bandana. The sting of the cut sent a surge of anger through me. I grabbed his wrist, twisting until the knife clattered to the floor, and then slammed him against the wall.

For a moment, it was just raw instinct, as I continuously hit him, adrenaline coursing through my veins like fire.

When it was over, he was slumped against the wall, blood dripping from his nose and mouth, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. I stepped back, my chest heaving, my knuckles throbbing from the fight.

Vince walked up beside me, his expression unreadable. He crouched down, grabbing the guy’s face and tilting it to the light.

“H Block scum” he muttered, letting the guy’s head drop. He stood, brushing off his hands as if the encounter had dirtied him. “Good work, kid. That’s the kind of fire we need in this crew.”

I didn’t feel victorious. My hands were trembling, the adrenaline beginning to fade and leaving only the weight of what I’d just done.

“What do you want to do with him?” I asked, my voice hollow.

Vince waved a hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got people for that. You’ve got a run to make.” He handed me a slip of paper with the drop off location, his tone cold and business like.

I didn’t argue. I didn’t ask what would happen to the guy slumped against the wall, or how he’d even found this place. I just turned and walked out of the warehouse, my footsteps heavy.

The air outside was cold, but it did nothing to clear my head. I climbed into my car, gripping the steering wheel tightly as the reality of the fight set in.

This wasn’t me. It couldn’t be me.

But as I glanced down at my bloodied knuckles, the coppery tang lingering in my mouth from a split lip, the truth stared back at me.

Y/n’s POV

The sound of the kitchen faucet trickled down to silence as I placed the last clean plate on the drying rack. The house was quiet now, except for the faint hum of the dishwasher. I wiped my hands on a towel, glancing toward the living room where Dad was still passed out on the couch, his head tilted back in a food coma, and Mom was flipping through a book on her tablet.

Chris leaving early hadn’t gone unnoticed, but I’d managed to brush it off with a small joke about him being a lightweight when it came to a big dinner. Mom had smiled politely, but I could tell she had questions. I sighed, deciding not to dwell on it as I headed upstairs to my room.

The moment I stepped inside, I was hit with a wave of exhaustion. The day had been a whirlwind, from preparing dinner to Chris meeting my parents to.. everything else. I grabbed my towel and a pair of pyjamas from my dresser and made my way to the ensuite bathroom, craving a shower to wash the thoughts away.

The hot water cascaded over me, soothing my muscles and easing some of the tension in my chest. My mind, however, didn’t stop racing. I replayed the evening over and over -- the small talk, the laughter at the dinner table, the way Chris had seemed to fit in so effortlessly with my parents. But then there was the undercurrent, the subtle tension I’d felt from him, like he was carrying something he wasn’t ready to share.

I sighed, pressing my forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall. Maybe I was overthinking it. Chris had been through a lot today. Losing someone, even someone distant, could dredge up all sorts of emotions. And knowing Chris, he probably didn’t want to burden me with any of it. But I wished he would.

It wasn’t about prying or needing to know every little detail—it was about letting him know I was there for him. That he didn’t have to carry everything on his own. He was my boyfriend, after all, and I wanted to be a part of his life, even the parts that were messy and complicated.

Once I finished washing up, I stepped out of the shower, wrapping the towel around myself and walking into my room. The warm glow of my bedside lamp cast soft shadows across the walls as I slipped into a comfortable pair of pyjamas. My wet hair hung loosely over my shoulders, and I felt a little lighter, even if my thoughts were still swirling.

“Relax, Y/n” I muttered to myself.

Once my hair was dry, I climbed into bed, tucking myself under the covers. My phone sat on the nightstand, and I picked it up, hesitating for a moment before unlocking it.

I typed out a quick message to Chris, keeping it simple.

Hey, I hope you’re feeling better now. I really enjoyed having you over tonight. It meant a lot to me.

I stared at the screen for a moment before hitting send, hoping he’d know how much I meant it.

Sliding under the covers, I propped myself up against the pillows, my phone still clutched in my hand. The house was quiet now, my parents likely dozing off in the living room, and the stillness gave me too much room to think.

I tried not to let my mind spiral. Chris cared about me – I knew that. The fact that he’d come tonight at all, even after everything he’d been through, proved that much. And if he needed space to deal with his own stuff, I’d give it to him.

Still, I hoped he’d let me in eventually. Maybe not tonight, or even tomorrow, but someday. Because for as much as I wanted to be there for him, I wanted him to trust me enough to let me.

I placed my phone on the nightstand and turned off the lamp, letting the darkness settle over the room. As I closed my eyes, the thought of Chris lingered, a mix of worry and affection that I couldn’t shake. But for now, all I could do was wait, I needed a good night's sleep as I had another shadow trial tomorrow – college was demanding, and shadowing trials left little room for rest. My bed felt impossibly soft as I curled up under the covers, letting the day slip away, my thoughts gently fading into the haze of sleep.

Until a light pierced through the dark.

It flickered through my eyelids, breaking my peace and pulling me back to consciousness. A tap followed, soft but insistent, on my balcony door. I shot up in bed, my heart racing as I tried to process what was happening.

It took a moment, but then it clicked. Chris.

I glanced toward the balcony and saw the faint glow coming from the treehouse outside. My mind raced for a split second, but the sight of a familiar figure standing in the shadows confirmed it was him.

Stepping out of bed, I shuffled across the room to the door, opening it cautiously. Before I could say a word, Chris burst in, wrapping his arms around me in a tight, almost desperate hug. His warmth and the way his chest heaved against mine told me he was upset before he even spoke.

“I’m so sorry for leaving so soon earlier” he murmured into my hair, his voice heavy with guilt. “I feel awful.”

I placed my hands on each side of his head, trying to ease his tension as I pulled back to look at him properly. His face, shadowed by the dim light of my room, came into focus – and that’s when I noticed it.

“Chris” I gasped, my fingers grazing his bottom lip. A fresh cut marred the soft skin, the edges slightly swollen. “Your lip? What happened?!”

He hesitated, his gaze shifting away from mine like he couldn’t bear to see my reaction. “Oh.. uh..” He rubbed the back of his neck, stalling. “I met Nate not too long ago. We had.. a disagreement. Kinda got into it with each other.”

“What?” I said, shocked. “You and Nate fought?”

“Yeah” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “He’s been on edge all day. I-I don’t know. Things just got heated.”

I softened, my hands moving to cup his face gently, urging him to look at me. “Chris.. it’s been hard for him lately. For both of you.. I know it was Danny’s funeral today too. Tensions are bound to run high.” I paused, my thumbs brushing lightly against his cheekbones. “I’d say Nate didn’t mean to lash out like that.”

Chris sighed, leaning into my touch as if it was the only thing grounding him. “I just.. I hate how things went. And I hate how I left you earlier. It’s been eating me up.”

I smiled softly, leaning in to press a reassuring kiss to his forehead, then his lips, careful of the cut. “It’s okay, Chris” I said quietly, pulling him close again. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

But the weight in my chest didn’t entirely lift. “I just wish you told me about the funeral, though” I added, my voice laced with a mix of sadness and understanding. “I would’ve been there for you, even if just to listen.”

He held me tighter, resting his chin on my shoulder. “I know I should’ve.. But when you mentioned meeting your parents I wanted to prove to you I was serious about it. About you. I didn’t want to burden you with it or for it to be a big deal. Today was.. Complicated, and I most definitely didn’t want you to think you had to show your face there for me either.”

I let out a soft sigh, my fingers running through the back of his hair. “You’re my boyfriend, Chris. It’s not a burden. I’m here for you, okay? No matter what.”

For a moment, we stood there in silence, the sounds of the night filtering through the open balcony door. The glow from the treehouse outside cast faint shadows across the room, a quiet reminder of the world still turning outside our bubble.

“I’m sorry” Chris said again, his voice softer this time.

I kissed his temple, holding him close. “It’s okay” I whispered. “We’ll get through this.”

I pulled back slightly from our embrace, looking up at Chris with a soft smile. “Do you want to stay the night?” I asked gently, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I mean, I’m up early for another shadow trial tomorrow, but I don’t mind. You can stay if you want.”

Chris shook his head slowly, his lips curving into a faint, appreciative smile. “I’ll let you get your rest” he said. “I don’t want to get in the way of your morning. I just.. needed to see you. To be around you for a bit.”

His words hit me deeply, and I couldn’t help but reach up to touch his cheek again. “You’re not in the way, you know. Ever.” I said softly, hoping he felt the weight of my sincerity.

Chris’s hand came up to cover mine, holding it there for a moment. “I know” he murmured, his voice tinged with something unspoken, something heavy. “But I should get out of your hair. You’ve got enough on your plate without me barging in.”

I frowned slightly but didn’t push. I could see in his eyes that tonight, what he needed most wasn’t necessarily to stay, it was just this moment. “Okay” I said finally, lowering my hand but keeping close to him. “But next time, don’t hesitate, okay? If you need me, I’m here.”

Chris nodded, leaning down to press a tender kiss to my forehead. “I know” he whispered.

We lingered for a moment, standing in the quiet of my room, before he let out a small sigh and stepped back. I walked him to the balcony door, the cool night air brushing against us as I slid it open.

“You’ll text me when you’re home?” I asked softly, leaning against the doorframe.

“Always” he said, turning to give me one last look. “And, Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

He smiled faintly, the kind of smile that held more emotion than he could probably put into words. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Anytime” I replied, watching as he climbed down the ladder to the yard below. The glow from the treehouse cast long shadows over him as he walked away, his figure disappearing into the night.

I stood there for a moment, the chill of the night air brushing against me, before I closed the door and leaned against it with a soft sigh.

Chris was carrying so much, but I knew he didn’t have to carry it alone. Not as long as I was here.

Chris’ POV

I climbed into my car, the cold leather seat pressing against my back as I closed the door. My hands gripped the steering wheel, but they trembled slightly, betraying how shaken I still actually was. The image of that guy’s face, the H Block mother fucker from the dock, flashed through my mind. The fight replayed over and over in my head, each punch, every word Vince spat at me.

I exhaled sharply, running a hand over my face. My lip stung from the touch, and I winced. I hadn’t even thought about it when I showed up at Y/n’s balcony. All I knew was that I needed her. Her calm, her warmth, it was the only thing grounding me tonight.

But I hated that I had to lie to her. That I told her it was Nate who’d roughed me up instead of the truth. What was I supposed to say? That I got into a brawl with a rival gang member over stolen supplies? She’d never let it slide, and honestly, I didn’t blame her. Y/n deserved better than this mess. Better than me.

Still, I couldn’t let her freak out. The guy from the dock didn’t see my face fully, and Vince had handled the rest. It wasn’t a clean situation, but for now, it was over. At least, I hoped it was.

I turned the key in the ignition, the low rumble of the engine filling the silence. The drive to Uncle Jerry’s was short because of how clear the streets were, but the road stretched out like a void. My thoughts swirled with everything I’d been avoiding – Danny’s funeral, the whispers of the hit, the escalating tension with H Block, and Vince’s expectations of me.

When I pulled up to Uncle Jerry’s place, I sat in the car for a moment, staring at the familiar, run down house. The porch light flickered, casting an uneven glow on the driveway. Jerry’s place was far from perfect, but it was home when I had nowhere else to go.

I stepped inside, the scent of stale smoke and takeout wrapping around me like an old coat that badly needed a wash. “Jerry?” I called out, shutting the door behind me.

“In here” came his gruff voice from the living room.

I walked in and found him slouched on the couch, a half finished beer in one hand and the TV remote in the other. A muted action movie played on the screen, explosions lighting up the dim room.

Jerry glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. “You look like shit, kid.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered, dropping into the armchair across from him. “Want to split a J?”

Jerry smirked, setting his beer down on the table. “Always. What’s got you so wound up?”

I shrugged, not ready to unpack the night just yet. “Just need to take the edge off, you know?”

He nodded knowingly, pulling out his stash and starting to roll. “Rough day?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Something like that.”

As I lit the joint, I leaned back in the chair, taking a long drag. The tension in my chest eased slightly, the haze dulling the sharp edges of my thoughts.

But even as the calm washed over me, the weight of everything lingered in the background. The dock, the fight, the lies – I couldn’t escape it. Not tonight.

I needed something, anything, to pull me out of this downward spiral. Positive things, better things. Y/n’s face flashed in my mind, her smile, the way her voice softened when she said my name. She’d quickly become my anchor, the light cutting through all the dark corners of my life.

I pulled out my phone, opening our messages. The sight of her name on the screen was enough to slow my racing thoughts, if only for a moment. Her phone was on Do Not Disturb, I could see the little moon icon next to her name. Typical Y/n, always mindful of getting her rest. It was one of the things I admired about her, how she took care of herself in ways I never really knew how to.

I smiled faintly as I typed out a message:

"Home now. Pick you up after you’re finished with court tomorrow? We can get food and park at the beach? Hope you’re having a good sleep x."

I hit send, knowing the notification wouldn’t wake her. I just hoped that when she saw it, it’d bring a smile to her face. She deserved that, something simple, something good.

After setting my phone down on the table, I leaned back into the chair, closing my eyes. The room was quiet except for the hum of the TV in the background. I needed tomorrow to be better. For her, and for me.

a/n: im still shadow banned so i appreciate everyones interactions still 🥲🥲 CANT WAIT FROM THEM TO BE ALL CUTE NEXT PART EEEEE

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside @riasturns @mattsredgaphoodie

[quintessenceofdust88]

Little Blobs

Hey everyone!! I bring you a new chapter of Little Blobs on this fine Wednesday. From here on, I intend to follow a more logical timeline lol and we'll get to see how Buck's pregnancy progresses from the very start. I hope you enjoy it <3

“What's got you pouting so early in the morning, Buckaroo?" 

Hen’s voice, paired with the smell of fresh coffee, manages to snap Buck out of his mind. He accepts the mug she’s placing in front of him automatically, but he didn’t drink it; he’s too nauseous. Or too guilty. Or both. 

You see, there’s a reason why everybody calls Buck a human golden retriever. It was usually so rare for him to be in a mood, but lately... He’s so often tired, and so often nauseous, that it’s been hard to keep his spirits up. Like that morning with Tommy.

Even though they’ve been together for eighteen months, it was a rare occurrence for their shifts to align so perfectly that they could get ready for work together in the morning. Usually, those moments would make Buck giddy with the domesticity of it all. Not today, apparently.

From the minute he woke up, Buck had just been off, feeling tired and nauseous and out of sorts. And for no reason at all, he simply snapped at Tommy for the leftover fruit he had left in the blender (which, sure, could be a little annoying, but not *that* annoying). Buck knew right away that his "Damn, Tommy, how hard is it to keep things clean?! It's like living in a frat house again!" had been uncalled for. 

Tommy had looked at him in surprise, muttered a "Sorry, Evan" and turned his back to Buck, apparently laser-focused on washing the blender. Buck knew right then that he should apologize, but he was still too pissy to do it, and their goodbyes had been frosty when they left for their respective stations.

And that's how Hen finds him, staring at the void and wondering if he should text Tommy and let him know how sorry he is or wait to do it in person once their 48-hour shifts are over.

Before Buck knows it, he’s spilling out to Hen, kind of expecting her to call him out for being an idiot to his husband, but instead, Hen hums thoughtfully.

"Yeah, I can't help but notice you *have* been moody lately, Buck. Far too moody for a newlywed, if you ask me" She teases lightly, and Buck gives her a half-hearted smile.

"I promise you, Tommy’s not the problem” He reassures her.  “He’s not even complaining about my bitchiness and the fact I have slept on top of him every single time we've sat to watch a movie together for the last three weeks"

"Wait, you?!" Hen asks, her eyebrows going up. "Evan 'ball of energy' Buckley..."

"Buckley-Kinard" He corrects eagerly, his smile widening despite himself at that.

"My bad" Hen chuckles. "Evan 'ball of energy' Buckley-Kinard, falling asleep during movie nights? Aren’t you the one who’s usually researching fun facts and talking a mile a minute, instead of letting people actually listen to what’s going on?"

"Yeah!" Buck agrees, nodding enthusiastically, not even a little self-conscious; Tommy says his ramblings are cute. "But lately, I don't know, I... I thought maybe I was tired from wedding planning, but it’s been a month since we got married. I don’t know what’s going on, Hen"

"Hey, you two!" Bobby's voice interrupts whatever it is Hen planned to say. “Breakfast is about ready, wanna join the rest of us?”

And Buck intends to, truly he does. But the minute he approaches the kitchen and the smell of Bobby’s frittata reaches his nose, he can’t. The nausea that bubbles up in his stomach is too strong to ignore, and he finds himself rushing to the bathroom.

By the time he comes back, Bobby is waiting for him with worried eyes and a glass of ice cold water, that Buck gratefully sips slowly. 

“Alright there, Buck?” He asks, and Buck nods sheepishly, not liking the way everyone’s looking at him as if he’d keel at any moment. 

“Fine, Cap. Sorry about that. Think I caught a stomach bug or something” He mutters, still sipping his water, and Hen looks as if she’s about to add something when the bell rings. 

They don’t get a chance to sit down and talk again, not in private anyway, but Buck feels Hen’s gaze landing upon him all through their 48-hour shift. It’s especially sharp when he falls asleep in the middle of the afternoon and when he barely touches Bobby’s meatloaf at dinner.

It’s a look that Hen has when she feels someone’s being particularly dense, and Buck’s not completely sure what he’s done to deserve it this time, other than being overly snappy and tired. By the time their shift is over, he’s more than ready to go home, wait for Tommy (he had sent an apology text that morning after all, and Tommy’s easy forgiveness had almost made him cry. And just about half an hour ago, Tommy texted that he was caught on a call and would probably be late, which almost made him cry again) and sleep for the next 12 hours.

Before he can leave, though, Hen’s voice calls from inside the station.

“Buck, wait!” She says, approaching him with a small paper bag in her hands. 

“What’s that you got there, Hen? Don’t tell me you’ve gotten me a present” He teases her, and Hen looks uncertain.

“Well” She says carefully. “It all depends on how you’ll see things. And maybe I’m wrong anyway, but. I think you should take these” 

She hands him the bag, and Buck opens it up to see three different brands of pregnancy tests inside. He widens his eyes, looking from the bag to Hen, and she’s looking expectantly at him.

“Hen, you don’t think I’m…” Buck can’t even say it; the possibility had never crossed his mind, and yet… It feels like his brain is short-circuiting as he revisits his latest symptoms in his mind. 

“Well, why not? You are a carrier, aren’t you? You told me that when you were debating if you could be a surrogate to your friends” She says, and Buck nods dumbly. “And, well, I know you and Tommy get… busy with each other very often.”

“We…Well, yeah, but I take birth control” Buck says, frantically recalling the last few weeks in his mind and wondering if he could’ve forgotten to take the pill at some point. And then it dawns on him how frantic their wedding day had been, and yeah, he doesn’t remember taking it on that day. Or the day after. Or during their weekend honeymoon in San Diego (they had been… busy, as Hen would put it). “Oh, fuck, Hen, what if I’m pregnant?! I can’t be pregnant right now, it’s not the plan!”

“Buckaroo, I don’t know what the plan is, but life doesn’t tend to care for it. Maybe you’re not; I’m just saying it’s a possibility and you should check it” Hen says placatingly. “If it’s positive, you and Tommy will figure it out; if it’s negative, you owe me 30 bucks for the tests”

“There’s only one of me” He jokes automatically, but his mind is nowhere near it. “T-thanks anyway, Hen. I… I’ll take those as soon as I’m home” Before Tommy arrives, he decides; there’s no reason to get his husband worked up over nothing if they’re negative. And if they’re positive, Buck has some time to decide on how to tell him.

“You’re welcome, Buckaroo. When you have the results and are ready to share, let me know, ok? Good luck!”

She’s gone before Buck can ask if good luck means positive or negative. He’s not sure he knows what he wishes for right now.

Tommy turns off the engine in his truck, content to see Evan’s Jeep already in the garage. Content but not surprised, considering he got caught up in a search and rescue and is two hours late. He has a strong suspicion his husband’s been catching up on some sleep during those hours, because he hasn’t answered Tommy’s text asking what he wanted for dinner; he had gone with pizza as a safe bet, though Evan’s appetite had been all over the place lately. Tommy knows that the younger man can be stubborn about his health, but he will drag him to a doctor if he isn’t better by the weekend.

He tries to enter home without making much noise, putting the pizzas on the kitchen table. Evan’s not at the kitchen or living room, and the house is completely silent. Tommy makes his way to their bedroom, ready to gently wake Evan up so he can get some food in him before they go to bed for the night; they probably won’t get up to anything fun tonight, both of them exhausted from their shifts, but if Tommy has anything to say about it, they’ll spend the next 24 hours in their bed making up for it. 

But when he gets to their bedroom, he’s surprised by an empty and still made bed, and no husband in sight. Tommy frowns, starting to worry. 

“Evan?!” He calls. 

“I’m in here…” Evan answers, his voice coming from the en-suite bathroom that Tommy hadn’t even noticed was with the door ajar. Something in Evan’s voice makes Tommy rush to it, and he opens the door to find his husband sitting on the floor; he looks up at him with dazed eyes, his fist tightly clutched around something Tommy can’t see. 

“Babe, are you okay?! Was it your stomach again?” Tommy asks, kneeling down by his side and automatically raising his hand to feel Evan’s forehead; it’s not hot, and when he gently takes Tommy’s hand in his free one, Tommy sees it’s cold and sweaty. To his horror, he can also see tears pooling up in Evan’s eyes. “Did something happen, Evan?”

Evan laughs somewhat hysterically at that, which doesn’t help with Tommy’s nerves at all. Then he nods, caressing Tommy’s hand with his thumb, making gentle circles.

“Y-yeah, something happened. I… I figured out why I snapped at you the other day” He says, his voice thick, and Tommy lets out a sigh of relief. 

“Sweetheart, I can’t believe you’re still thinking about that. It was nothing, I already said I…” He doesn’t get to finish the sentence, though, because Evan is opening Tommy’s hand and pressing the three plastic sticks that he was so tightly holding against it. 

Tommy looks down at them with a frown, and his heart skips a beat when he realizes what they are: pregnancy tests. Two of them show two lines and, even if Tommy didn’t know what that means (he does; he absolutely does), the third one is a fancy digital kind that has the word in bold letters: PREGNANT. 

He looks from the tests to Evan, his mouth agape, and his husband’s looking back at him with expectant blue eyes and the tiniest hint of a frown between his eyebrows. 

“I… On the wedding frenzy I guess I forgot to take my pill” He says, and he takes Tommy’s stunned silence as a cue to continue. “I… I know it’s not the plan, I know we said we’d wait at least a year before kids, I…”

Tommy can’t take it anymore; in a move that has become signature by now, he grabs his chin and presses a gentle soft kiss against his mouth. When the kiss is done, Evan is the one left agape, while Tommy can’t stop a smile from widening across his face. 

“Fuck the plan, Evan. Are you happy?” He asks earnestly; Tommy knows he is, and the more it dawns on him, the happier he gets. But it’s Evan’s body and Tommy knows he’s much more of a planner than himself, so he’ll rein in the excitement if Evan needs to process this differently. 

But to his relief, Evan gives him that adorable crooked smile, looking down at the tests Tommy’s holding, and then at his own belly, then back at Tommy with eyes full of joy. 

“Yeah, I’m happy. I’m fucking thrilled, Tommy. We’re having a baby!” He says, as it’s just dawning on him, and hearing him say it out loud makes it dawn on Tommy too. 

They smile at each other like two idiots, and before Tommy knows it, he’s helping Evan up and pulling him in a tight hug, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. He lets out a delighted laugh, feeling happier than he’s ever felt before, except maybe for their wedding day. 

“We’re having a baby, oh my God, that’s incredible. You’re incredible” He says, resting his chin on Evan’s shoulder, and then with a dawning sense of realization, he steps back, looking at him worriedly. “Oh my God, are you okay?! Is the baby okay? Can you tell if they’re okay?! Damn we need to schedule a doctor’s appointment, and probably start thinking about a nursery, and you have to talk to Bobby and…”

“Babe” Evan interrupts him, sounding way too amused (Tommy’s not often the one to freak out between the two) as he puts both his hand in Tommy’s face, effectively shutting him up. “I’m sure the baby’s fine. I’ll talk to Bobby on my next shift, and we can figure out everything else tomorrow. Okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re making sense” Tommy easily agrees, nodding and looking at Evan with a scrutinizing gaze. “Are you okay, though, Evan? What do you need?”

“I’m fine, Tommy” He says, his voice sounding between exasperated and amused, but Tommy doesn’t care if he’s being overbearing. Evan is the most precious person in the world to him, and now he’s carrying the other most precious person in the world to him. Tommy will do anything for him. “What I need is food. I’m finally not feeling nauseous and I wanna take advantage of it while it lasts. Please tell me you brought dinner?”

“You didn’t answer me, so I brought pizza. But if you want anything else, anything else, I’ll go and get it in fifteen minutes max. Just name it, babe” Tommy offers, and Evan smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Pizza is more than fine, but I might make use of this generosity at some point in the next nine months” He says, and Tommy knows it’s meant like a tease, but if anything, it sounds like a promise.

“Anytime you want” He says, and then his hand goes straight to Evan’s still flat belly. He can’t see or feel anything, but knowing their little one is there is enough to fill his heart for now. “For you two, anything, anytime”

“Hey” Evan says, putting his own hand on top of Tommy’s, his smile bright enough to outshine the Sun itself. “I love you”

“I love you too, Evan”

–

A smile spreads across her face, and she sends back a congrats, daddies!! before deleting both messages. Karen has full access to her phone and her to Karen’s, and she knows her wife can’t keep a secret for her life, so she won’t take any chances. But God is she happy for those two. 

When Hen’s cellphone dings, she’s about to go to bed; after coming home from their 48-hour shift, she had helped Karen with the kids’ nightly routine and the two of them had spent some time together watching TV and drinking wine after tucking them in. Now she’s pleasantly sleepy and ready to enjoy a good night of sleep and then three whole blessed days off.

And yet, her conversation with Buck has been on the back of her mind all day. When Hen sees the message she got is from him, it’s with eager hands that she unlocks her phone and opens their thread. There’s only two emojis and five words looking back at her: 👶🏻👍🏻 but don’t tell anyone yet!

One thing Hen knows: they’re going to be wonderful fathers. 

--

[More from Little Blobs Verse]

Tag list: (let me know if you'd like to be removed or if I missed anyone! Also if anyone else wants to be tagged, either on my fics in general or just the Little Blobs' Verse, let me know! ♥)

@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter @rubydaiquiri  @racerchix21 @actuallyitsellie

[callmeagardengnome]

𓆩 bless me 𓆪 - chapter 10

w.c - 2.9k

pairings - demon!ateez ot8 x receptionist! fem! reader

genre - demon au, hint of royal au, possible yandere themes (?), romance, slow burn

synopsis: as hell's receptionist, you only wished to talk shit and stay out of trouble. yet, you happened to be the one that the two social clans in hell start fighting for.

c.w - nothing! (i hope)

not proofread!

previous / next

masterlist

You were pretty sure that Yunho had given you terrible directions to find San. The hallways of the Palace were endless and you were absolutely, positively lost. He clearly overestimated your abilities to navigate this confusing place.

“Left at the vase, right at the statue.. or was it the other way around?” you muttered to yourself, stumbling into another identical corridor. “This doesn’t feel right.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. You were supposed to find San so that he could ‘supervise’ you as you mapped out the farms of Hell, but you couldn’t find him no matter how hard you tried.

Suddenly, you heard the sounds of things crashing followed by muffled voices. You hesitated for a moment before walking over to the noise which seemed to come from a room with a set of double doors that were slightly opened.

“Yeosang, if you swing it like that you’re going to break your wrist,” a familiar voice scolded.

“I know how to hold a staff, Wooyoung,” someone calmly rebutted.

“Do you, though? Because last time-”

“Both of you, stop. Just focus,” a third voice cut in.

You carefully nudged the door open, and the scene inside was more than enough to make you freeze in place.

Wooyoung was in the middle of dramatically demonstrating some sparring move with a wooden staff while Yeosang watched him with a deadpan look, the same weapon in hand. Jongho stood nearby, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

Just as you were about to pinch yourself, thinking it was a dream, a figure suddenly approached you.

“Receptionist!” Wooyoung’s voice rang out the second he spotted you. His staff hit the floor as he sprinted towards you, arms wide open.

“Wha-” you managed to cough out before he enveloped you in a hug.

“You’re here!” he exclaimed, squeezing you tightly.

“Wooyoung, how-” you gasped, patting his back violently in an attempt to free yourself.

He finally let you go, grinning. “Did you miss me?”

You stared at him, still trying to process what you were seeing. “W-what are you doing here? And what are you wearing?”

Purple horns stuck out of his head - and it wasn’t just Wooyoung. Yeosang and Jongho had them too, standing tall from their dark hair.

Yeosang walked towards you, the sparring staff resting against his shoulder. “We’re working here now,” he said with a small smile.

“Working? Here? At the Palace?” your eyes widened.

“Surprise,” Jongho said, dragging out the word.

You glanced over your shoulder, checking if this was some cruel prank that the Royals were playing on you. “No one told me about this..”

“It was pretty last minute,” Wooyoung shrugged. “And Yunho probably didn’t want you to faint at the sight of me.”

“You’re annoying,” you said instantly, earning a gasp from him.

“We didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Yeosang tilted his head.

Jongho nodded, crossing his arms. “It’s good that you’re here, though. San told us that things have been.. strange.”

You tilted your head. “Strange how?”

Before anyone could answer, Wooyoung threw an arm around your shoulders, dragging you further into the room. “Enough about that. How are you? Did you miss us? Or did you miss me only? It’s okay to be honest. You know, I started-”

“I should’ve stayed lost,” you muttered, though a smile tugged at your lips. “How’s Mingi? Is he okay?”

Wooyoung blinked, then stepped back looking offended. “We’re all standing right here and you’re worried about him?”

You opened your mouth to explain yourself, but he waved you off. “He’s fine, he’s just recovering,” Wooyoung’s eyes softened slightly. “Don’t worry about him.”

“Good,” you nodded, relieved. “I was worried.”

Just then, Wooyoung clapped his hands loudly as if he just remembered something. “Ah yes, Yunho told me something.”

You raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. “He said that you needed training. When was the last time you fought?”

“Uhh-”

“Doesn’t matter, we need to be prepared for all situations,” Wooyoung said as he pointed to someone. “Which is why I’m making you train with Jongho.”

Your eyes shifted to Jongho, whose broad, intimidating stance made your stomach flip. “Yeah, no thanks. I can already see that he's strong.”

Jongho’s eyes widened, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he quickly turned away - trying to look more interested in the training equipment.

Wooyoung smirked. “Are you scared?”

You glared at him. “No, I just don’t want to break a bone.”

“You’re a Walker, I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Wooyoung said with a grin.

Wooyoung practically shoved you toward Jongho, who looked a little flustered but quickly composed himself. He handed you a sparring staff, his hand brushing yours briefly.

“I can go easy,” Jongho said, raising an eyebrow.

“Don’t you dare,” you shot back, earning a small, approving smile from him.

The sparring started slow, Jongho reminding you of the basic stances and moves. He was patient and detailed, correcting your grip and posture gently. It wasn’t long before the two of you began to exchange strikes, the pace quickening as the spar dragged on.

For a moment, you almost had him - your staff swung low, aiming for his side. But unfortunately, with how long the spar had been going on, your movements were sloppy. Jongho predicted this, stepping aside and disarming you with a swift move.

Your staff fell and you stumbled forward. But before you hit the ground, Jongho managed to catch you - not by your arm, but by gripping to the back of your shirt.

You dangled for a second, completely stunned, before he effortlessly lifted you back onto your feet as though you weighed nothing.

“How..” you said in shock as he set you down.

Jongho wiped his hands on his training pants before extending it toward you. “Good job, you almost got me,” he said.

“Yeah..” You stared at his hand, still out of breath. “Good job to you too,” you mumbled, shaking his hand weakly before heading towards the bench at the side of the room.

You plopped down, rubbing the back of your neck. “What is he made of?”

Yeosang, seated beside you, handed you a towel. “Bricks, probably.”

Across the room, Wooyoung waltzed over to Jongho. “Very impressive catch,” he grinned.

Jongho rolled his eyes, picking up the discarded staff. “You’re next,” he said, his voice dry.

“I’ll make this quick,” Wooyoung smirked, twirling the staff.

You watched the two Halas spar, Jongho’s calculated moves going against Wooyoung’s extra but impressive strikes.

“You’re not sparring?” you asked Yeosang.

“I don’t have the stamina for close combat,” he admitted with a nervous smile. “I only ever do it when Wooyoung forces me.”

You nodded slowly, looking at the scene infront of you. “How do you fight then?”

“Long-distance weapons..” he said, slightly embarrassed.

“Oh, that’s cool!” you turned to him, intrigued. “Like bows?”

“Yes, that exactly,” Yeonsang’s eyes lit up. “Everyone thinks that I use crossbows- but bows are way better. They’re so versatile and you have actual control over the shot. Crossbows are so bulky and hard to reload.. with a bow, you can-”

He stopped abruptly, his face flushing a little. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

“Don’t apologise, I wanted to hear more.” You raised an eyebrow. “I like bows, just never got around to using them.”

Yeosang tilted his head, studying you for a moment.

“Do you think you can teach me how to use one?” you asked, surprising him further.

Yeosang blinked, clearly taken aback before nodding with a smile. “Of course.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

The sounds of clashing weapons and grunts filled the training hall as you sat on the bench, trying to reserve the little energy you had after sparring with Jongho. Yeosang was eventually called to join the others when Wooyoung yelled something along the lines of ‘Come here and help me fight this brick wall!’

You watched as the three of them trained, a quiet thud of footsteps pulling you from your thoughts. You turned to see San walking up, his sharp features soft as he observed his friends.

You waved at him, in which he nodded in return before settling onto the bench you were sitting on. The silence between you stretched - not entirely uncomfortable but it was definitely awkward.

You let out a sigh. It had been so long since you’ve had an actual chance to sit and do nothing that it actually felt weird. You bit the inside of your cheek, watching as Yeosang and Wooyoung laid down on the floor in exhaustion as Jongho stood over them, fixing his attire.

Finally, you turned to San, deciding to break the silence. “You were saying something yesterday..” you spoke, your voice hesitant.

San blinked. “Oh yeah,” he said, turning to face you fully. His hands fidgeted slightly as he added, “Uh- you’re not involved with the King or anything, right..?”

You frowned. “No? I wouldn’t be doing all of this if I were.”

“Just making sure,” San seemed to relax a little, though his fidgeting didn’t stop. “Yunho keeps saying that he’s ‘neutral’, but he’s still doing a lot for us.”

You snorted. “He’s probably in denial that he’s helping Halas.”

San chuckled softly, nodding. “Maybe..” his smile faded as he remembered something, his voice dropping slightly. “Oh right, the King.”

He kept his eyes on the trio sparring in the distance as he continued. “You remember how he, uh- whispered something to me? During the whole ‘general welcoming’ thing?”

You nodded, your eyebrows furrowing. “Yeah, what about it?”

San drummed his fingers on the bench before muttering, “He said that I'd be dead if I talked to you.”

“What?” you said, shifting away from him almost immediately. “Then why are you talking to me?”

He gave a shrug, his lips twitching into a small smile when he saw your reaction. “You asked a question so I had to answer.”

You stared at him, your eyes wide. “San, you could be dead tomorrow. If he’s willing to kill his own demons, you are not an exception.”

“It’s a petty request,” San replied seriously, facing you once more. “I’m not going to avoid talking to someone because the King is possessive.. or whatever his deal is.”

You opened your mouth to argue but paused as you were unsure of what to say. His words were reckless but oddly reassuring. You leaned back further into the bench, shaking your head with a sigh.

“Just.. don’t get yourself killed. Please,” you said, extremely concerned.

San smirked faintly, his eyes drifting back to his friends. “I won’t.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Light from the high windows filtered into the small, forgotten corner of the Palace, casting shadows over the table where you and Yunho sat. The worn wood barely had enough space to hold the map you were working on. The corner was clearly meant as a ‘rest stop’ and not a working area.

Opposite you was Yunho, quietly scribbling in his notepad. The soft scratch of his pen filled the silence, besides the occasional rustle of paper.

You let out a soft sigh, your pencil hovering over the parchment as your thoughts raced. Your mind kept circling back, time and time again to Mingi. Sure, Wooyoung said that he was fine, but that wasn’t enough to calm you down.

“Are you alright?” Yunho asked suddenly.

You gave him a quick nod without looking up. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

There was a pause. “I would appreciate it if you were honest,” Yunho replied, his voice firm but gentle.

Your pencil froze mid-stroke. Slowly, you looked up. The way his eyes searched yours made you feel exposed. After a moment, you sighed and leaned back into your chair.

“I..” you began quietly. “I’m just worried about Mingi..”

Yunho’s eye twitched. “Ah.. really..” he said, a little too controlled. The grip on his pen tightened and the wood under his feet creaked under the pressure he gave out.

The run-down corner fell back into a silence. Yunho eventually began to scribble into his notepad once more, albeit slowly, and you picked up your pencil again, forcing yourself to focus on the map. Though, the lines were blurring together, your thoughts still on Mingi.

“If you’re really worried,” Yunho said, breaking the silence again, his voice quieter this time. “I can bring him here.”

“Really?” your head shot up, eyes wide.

Yunho set his pen down and leaned forward, his elbows now resting on the table. This brought his face closer to yours, close enough for you to see the faint scar cut across his nose, the sharp line of his jaw and the way his hair framed his face.

“I can sneak him in,” he continued calmly. “And hide him with his troops in the chambers.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. “You.. you’d do that?”

“Of course,” Yunho smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “If it makes you happy.”

You stared at him, shocked. It took a moment for you to process what he was offering - and when you did, the words escaped you before you could stop them.

“It does..”

A beat of silence passed between the two of you. Without hesitation, you leaned over the table and wrapped your arms around him in a quick hug. It was brief, a little awkward given that there was a table acting as a barrier, but it was enough.

Yunho froze, his body stiff. For a moment, it seemed like he didn’t know what to do. When you pulled back, his stunned face made you stifle a laugh.

“Thank you,” you said softly, sitting back in your seat.

Yunho cleared his throat, quickly recovering. He smiled, the tips of his ears turning into a pale red. “Anything for you.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⊹₊ִ ࣪𖤐๋࣭ ⭑⊹₊ 𖥔.

Hongjoong strolled through the dimly lit corridor, his steps light and silent. He paused mid-stride when he caught the sight of something unusual at the far end of the hallway.

You and Yunho were seated at a random small table, maps and papers spread out before you. What caught his attention though, wasn’t the work - but the way you leaned in, reaching across to give Yunho a hug.

Hongjoong’s brows knit together, his eyes narrowing as he took in the interaction. He immediately made his way towards the two of you, his boots now clicking against the marble floor.

“Doing your work?” his voice sliced through the peace and quiet like a blade.

Both you and Yunho jolted in surprise, your heads snapping in unison. Yunho, visibly nervous, straightened his back and dusted his clothes off.

“Yes,” you said quickly, holding up your pencil.

“Hm,” Hongjoong’s eyes lingered on you before shifting to Yunho, his face unreadable. “Where’s Seonghwa? Or the new General? Weren’t they assigned to supervise you?”

“Well..” you hesitated.

Earlier that day

“He’s starting to worry me,” you said, clutching your map and supplies tighter.

“Why would Seonghwa even be in a place like this?” San asked, glancing at the sparse greenery outside a passing window.

You and San had been wandering through the maze-like Palace for ages, trying to find a certain Eternal so that you could continue with your work. After several wrong turns and a lot of aimless searching, you finally spotted Seonghwa in the garden.

He was seated on a stone bench under the ‘shade’ of a decaying tree. His eyes were distant, his fingers absentmindedly brushing over the thorns of a wilted rose.

You cleared your throat loudly.

“What do you want,” he asked gruffly, barely looking at you.

You raised the map and papers in your hands. “You’re supposed to supervise me.”

Seonghwa scoffed. It seemed like he was about to say something harsh, but as his sharp eyes met yours, his face shifted ever so slightly before he looked away.

“I’m sure you can handle yourself,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively. “Don’t bother me with these things.”

He stood up abruptly, brushing past you and San without another word. You exchanged a confused look with San, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh-” you began awkwardly. “You can go back to your friends.. I guess.”

Back to Now

You straightened your back as you addressed Hongjoong. “I couldn’t find either of them so I asked Yunho to supervise me instead.”

Hongjoong’s eyes shifted between the two of you. “...Is that so?”

There was an uneasy and uncomfortable silence. Yunho, catching the change in Hongjoong’s tone, quietly slid his notepad into the inside pocket of his blazer.

Hongjoong’s lips curled into an ingenuine smile as he looked at Yunho. “I think we need to have a chat”

Yunho stiffened, but he nodded reluctantly. When you met his gaze, his eyes swirled with worry and worst of all - fear.

You were unsure of whether you should intervene or pretend that this was a perfectly normal interaction between the two Eternals. Before you could even do anything, Hongjoong turned his attention back to you briefly.

“Carry on with your work,” he said smoothly before gesturing for Yunho to follow him down the corridor.

Yunho glanced at you once again before rising from his seat. As they disappeared around the corner, the faint sound of Hongjoong’s voice echoed back to you.

“Yunho, there are some boundaries I think you’ve forgotten..”

hope you enjoyed this (tho its a shorter chapter). remember to like and repost <3

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