#i wanna just call it off entirely and be like

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ LES kim chaewon x reader

♪ ❝ohh girl I wanna know, are you ready to cry cause I’m no good no good.❞

⭒ previous chapters | wow ⭢jealousy and rings ⭢ star tattoos and milkis ⭢ award shows & drinks ⭢jealousy & more milkis ⭢twilight & jealousy ⭢ butterflies ⭢ coming down

↳ warnings wow!yn, chaewon is down bad and is ignoring all the flags, kissing, swearing

“am i the first girl to ever be in here?”

chaewon winced the second the words slipped past her lips. she didn’t mean for them to sound so intimate, but now they were out there, hanging in the air like smoke.

yn turned to look at her slowly, and chaewon regretted everything instantly. especially when she saw the grin forming on the other girl’s lips. 

“you want an honest answer?”

chaewon hesitated, her confidence folding under yn’s stare. “yes—wait, no—wait, yes.” she groaned softly at herself, burying her face in the blanket like she could hide from her own awkwardness.

yn laughed, tugging her a little closer by the sleeve of her hoodie. “calm down,” she said with a soft chuckle. “outside of my members, yeah, you’re the only girl I’ve brought in here.”

chaewon’s chest warmed with that. she tried to play it off with a small smile, but it was so obvious she was melting.

“not even…?”

yn raised an eyebrow. “who?”

“oh, you know. winter? or should I call her minjeong?” chaewon tested, tilting her head just a little, watching for a reaction.

she got one.

yn’s teasing expression dropped like a curtain falling after a show. her features went blank. unreadable. like she flipped a switch and turned the lights off inside her eyes.

“let’s not talk about her.”

chaewon blinked, startled by how fast the mood shifted. yn sat back against the bean bag, eyes on the ceiling now, jaw clenched in a way chaewon hadn’t seen all night.

it was silent again. except this time, it wasn’t cozy.

“okay,” chaewon said quietly, looking off to the side to defuse the tension, yn always got like this when minjeong was mentioned, just like last time when yujin and wonyoung brought her up.

they sat like that for a while. the music still playing low, rain still tapping against the roof. chaewon thought maybe she crossed a line, but yn didn’t move away or shut down entirely. she just... needed a second.

when yn finally spoke again, her voice was soft. “being a leader seems like it fucking sucks.”

chaewon let out a half laugh, relieved. “yeah,” she admitted, leaning her head back, “it really does.”

and so began the rant.

chaewon spilled everything, the pressure, the exhaustion, the endless need to perform even when she felt like crumbling. the loneliness that came with always being the strong one, the responsible one, the one who couldn’t afford to lose her cool even when everything felt like it was spiraling.

yn listened, eyes half lidded, head tilted slightly in that way she did when she was genuinely tuned in. once in a while, she’d hum or nod or toss in a short comment like “damn” or “that’s fucked,” but mostly she just let chaewon talk. no judgment. no interruptions. just presence.

“how do you do it?” chaewon asked after a pause, eyes flicking toward yn. “you’re always so… chill. like nothing ever really gets to you.”

yn raised an eyebrow. “who said nothing gets to me?”

chaewon shrugged. “you just seem like… you don’t care about anything.”

yn smiled at that. a small, crooked smile. “I don’t know actually.” she said quietly. “I just don’t like feeling a lot you know? it’s easier.”

chaewon frowned a little. “easier for you or for everyone else?”

yn looked over at her, gaze unreadable. “does it matter?”

chaewon didn’t answer.

the conversation turned lighter again after that. they talked about random things, the worst stages they’ve done, fan signs, the time rei got lost in a convenience store for twenty minutes, how yunjin once tried to fix the wifi but made it completely worse.

but yn kept flirting. and chaewon kept letting her.

yn would say things like “you’re lucky you’re cute,” when chaewon said something dumb. or she’d randomly brush chaewon’s hair behind her ear, her fingers lingering too long on her cheek. or she'd rest her hand on chaewon’s knee like it belonged there. 

and the worst part? chaewon wasn’t stopping her. she wasn’t even pretending to resist.

she knew, knew that yn wasn’t the type to be tied down. she saw the signs. she heard the stories. but none of it mattered when yn was looking at her like that, touching her like this, saying her name so softly it made her ribs ache.

it was a losing game. but she didn’t want to stop playing.

still, her thoughts wandered.

to her.

“���were you and winter together?” chaewon asked softly, eyes not quite meeting yn’s.

the shift was immediate. yn’s body language changed. she didn’t pull away no, she leaned in closer.

too close.

“why are you asking?” yn murmured, one hand gently resting against chaewon’s jaw, thumb brushing along her cheek. her voice was low, her touch distracting, and chaewon’s brain short circuited.

“I… I just…” her words tripped over themselves again, especially as yn’s fingers trailed down the side of her neck, slow, purposeful.

“don’t bring her up,” yn whispered, and before chaewon could say anything else, yn leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips.

it was soft. but not shy.

it was a kiss meant to silence.

and it worked. chaewon melted into it, her hand gripping the blanket like a lifeline. yn kissed like she was in control of time itself ,slow, steady, just the right amount of pressure, like she knew exactly what she was doing to chaewon’s already fragile heart.

when they finally pulled apart, chaewon blinked slowly, lips still tingling. “is this…” she swallowed, “is this gonna be a recurring thing?”

yn didn’t answer right away.

chaewon’s voice wavered. “do these kisses mean anything?”

yn opened her mouth to reply, but then of course  her phone buzzed on the floor beside them.

chaewon glanced down.

❄️ 1 message received

yn grabbed the phone quickly and flipped it over, screen down, then shoved it to the side like it didn’t exist. she turned back to chaewon with a faint smile, ignoring the question hanging in the air like smoke.

“do you want cookies?” she asked, already getting up and stretching like nothing happened.

chaewon blinked. “what?”

“i’ve got some in the back. chocolate chip.”

“…you’re serious?”

“dead serious.”

and just like that, the topic was dropped. her question was left unanswered. and yn, ever the the girl that she is, walked off like she hadn’t just kissed someone breathless and ignored the aftermath.

chaewon sat there, lips still parted, heart in her throat, and mind spinning.

maybe she should walk away. maybe she should’ve paid attention to the red flags. but right now, she wanted cookies. and she wanted yn.

even if it hurt later.

✮✮

[sereia4skz]

I love your writing could you make a written oneshot with noona reader and sub Jisung?

drabble | softer in your hands

pairing: sub!Han x noona!reader

genre: smut

warnings: praise, mild feminization (calling him pretty and a good girl), dacryphilia (teary eyed)

word count: 668

masterlist: A-Side (texts) | B-Side (written)

It’s nearly 1 a.m. when the door clicks open. You’re curled up on the couch, still waiting for him, the lamp casting soft golden light across the living room. Jisung shuffles in, hoodie half-zipped, eyes tired and red around the edges.

He spots you and gives a small, almost embarrassed smile. “Thought you’d be asleep, noona.”

“You thought wrong,” you murmur, setting your book down. “Come here.”

He hesitates only a second before walking over, dropping his bag at his feet. You reach out, taking his hand, pulling him between your legs where you're sitting. He’s quiet.

“Rough day?”

He nods. His jaw tightens, but his eyes soften when you slide your hands up under his hoodie, fingertips tracing warm skin.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.” A beat. “I just want you.”

The way he says it, so needy, soft, vulnerable, sends heat blooming low in your belly. You guide him down gently until he's straddling your lap, his knees sinking into the couch cushions, hoodie falling slightly off one shoulder. His breath hitches when you push it off entirely, revealing his lean chest, thumbing at his side tattoo, his flushed skin.

“You’re always so pretty for me,” you whisper, letting your lips brush the base of his throat.

He whimpers softly, already leaning into your touch.

“Take off your pants for me, baby.”

He scrambles up enough to obey, hands shaking slightly with how fast he wants to please. You help him slide them down, underwear too, revealing him half-hard and pink, twitching with anticipation.

"You're sensitive already, huh?" you coo, letting your fingers trail lightly up his inner thigh. "Such a good girl."

That name makes him moan, eyes fluttering shut. He doesn’t correct you, never does anymore. You taught him to love the softness in himself, to let go in your hands. You stroke him gently, watching his face. He’s already panting, lips parted, lashes wet.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

He nods helplessly, hips rocking into your touch. “Y-Yeah, noona…”

You press a kiss to his chest, his collarbone, his throat. “Tell me what you need.”

“You,” he gasps. “Just- Anything. Please, I want… I want to feel you.”

You guide him back down, lying him onto the couch. His hair fans over the cushion, messy and damp with sweat already. You make him spread his legs for you, and he does, shaky and red-faced but eager. You slide your fingers back over him, slow and teasing. His hips jerk as you tighten your grip just slightly and lean down to press a kiss to the head of his cock.

“Such a pretty thing,” you murmur. “Look at you, already crying for me.”

Oh god he is, tears pool at the corners of his eyes, not from pain but from the overwhelming closeness, the praise, the way you see him like no one else does. He's so flushed, so pink, so baby soft, so perfect.

“Am I good?” he whispers, voice trembling.

You meet his eyes and stroke his cheek. “You’re perfect, Jisung. My good girl. My favorite boy.”

That makes something in him break, his back arches, and he lets out a soft sob, one hand gripping your wrist, the other fisting the throw pillow beneath him. You don’t stop. You worship him, slow, tender strokes, soft kisses to his stomach, his thighs, his hips. You whisper praise with every breath.

“So sweet for me… You take it so well… Let go, baby. Come for me.”

He does so, quietly, beautifully, his whole body trembling as you stroke him through it. His tears slip down his cheeks as he whimpers your name like a prayer. You hold him after, tugging a blanket over both of you as he curls against your chest. He’s still shaking a little, from how deep it all hit, but he’s smiling, soft and dazed.

“You okay?” you whisper.

He nods. “Just… love you.”

You kiss the top of his head. “I know, baby. I’ve got you.”

taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o @hug4helios @oksullen @rileylovescats @dreamyfelixx @yxna-bliss @turtledove824

[23victoria]

my baby

𝒇1 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒅 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

word count: 500

synopsis: 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓!𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓

warnings: 𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇

authors note: 𝒂 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒍𝒊𝒍 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚! 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 , 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈!!

𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕?! CLICK HERE!

F1 MASTERLIST

Your eyes flutter open, the spot beside you in bed is cold, blankets slightly crumpled from where he must’ve slipped out. You blink a few times, stretching with a small groan before tossing the covers off and padding out of the room in your oversized tee.

You find him a minute later, hunched slightly forward in his gaming chair, headset on, fingers quick on the keyboard. His voice is calm and focused as he talks to chat and his teammates, eyes locked on the screen. You smile softly, watching from the doorway.

He glances over—and the moment he sees you, his entire face lights up.

“Baby,” he grins, pushing his chair slightly back, arms open. “Come here.”

You shake your head, bashful. “I don’t wanna interrupt.”

His brows lift like you just said something ridiculous. “Baby, you never interrupt. Come on.”

You hesitate for only a second before walking over. The chat’s already going crazy:

“OMG WAIT HE HAS A GF???”

“THIS IS SO CUTE WTF.”

“I WANNA SEE HERRRRR.”

“W BRO.”

“DROP HER @ RN.”

You stand beside his chair, glancing at him with a nervous smile. “You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” he says, reaching for your hand and tugging you closer. “C’mere.”

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips and then his cheek. The chat absolutely erupts:

“SHE’S GORGEOUSSS.”

“W GIRL W GIRL.”

“THEY’RE SO CUTE I’M CRYING.”

“BRO’S WINNING IN LIFE.”

He doesn’t let go—just gently pulls you into his lap, arms wrapping around your waist like you belong there (because you do). You rest your head on his shoulder, watching his screen while his hands go back to the game.

Mostly.

Because a minute later, one hand stays firmly on your waist, fingers lazily tracing over the fabric of your shirt.

“OMG WAIT HE’S PLAYING WITH ONE HAND.”

“KING ENERGY.”

“THE DEDICATION IS REAL.”

He just smirks, glancing briefly at the chat. “Yeah… makes it more fun this way.”

You giggle softly against his neck. A yawn escapes your lips before you can stop it.

He slides his mic to the side, murmuring just for you, “You tired, baby?”

“A little,” you admit, rubbing your eyes, “but I’m hungry too.”

He smiles, squeezing your hip. “Say less.”

Then he returns to the mic. “Alright chat, I gotta go take care of wifey. Y’all be good.”

The chat’s final flurry scrolls by fast:

“AWWWWWWWW.”

“HE CALLED HER WIFEY 😭😭😭”

“W RELATIONSHIP.”

“BRB CRYING IN SINGLE.”

You tilt your head up, cheeks warm, eyes filled with love.

He glances down and winks. “Told you I’m lucky as fuck I found you.”

And you just smile—because you feel lucky too.

✿ .° • taglist • °. ✿ : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @Nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @Ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @Formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @winkev1 @strawblueberrys @Blakesbearblog @cel-b @perfumejamal @aykxz98 @pandora-08 @teti-menchon0604 @bxtosa @fadingcloudballoon @whatevenisthisxxxxx @anamiad00msday @luula @teti-menchon0604 @bxtosa @fadingcloudballon @whatevenisthisxxxxx @Anamiad00msday @oracleredbullbabe @deena-beena-weena @rOnnsblog @ini3103 @edgyficuselastica @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel @xoscar03 @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @danieldaviddarren33 @flowerpetalk @xoscar3 @jimcarreyfann42 @oliviah-25 @bbwzrld @goldenroutledge @unkownmystery_22 @sophienorris

[sluttywonu]

trigger𖤐

pairing: nana tour!dino x f!reader

theme: smut mdni!!

synopsis: running into you while shopping (literally) was one of the best things to happen to dino so far this trip.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: below the cut

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- a/n: so sorry for the delay, my son had a procedure (he’s ok!!) and it was a bit hard getting anything done this past week </3

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

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warnings: pwp, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do!!), oral(m rec), slight hair pulling, slight scratching, multiple positions, hickeys & love bites, lmk if i forgot anything????

i saw this tweet and giggled

while some weren’t loving this trip, dino was loving it. this was everything he wanted, even if he did have to work.

he had the best time playing stupid games with pd and his hyungs, going to the wine festival and seeing all these sites in a city he’s never been before.

he was lucky today— he didn’t need to film content until later this evening so he, joshua and scoups (yes he’s here!) went out to explore and do their own thing for a while, beginning with breakfast.

the entire time, joshua’s on his phone texting… someone but dino and scoups are calling the shots, finding a few stores to shop and then ending on lunch out in the town.

while shopping, dino is busy browsing a few racks, not really finding anything he loves. he’s more-so just window shopping at this point— just trying to avoid being stuck in the airbnb.

scoups called his name, making him abruptly turn around only to bump into you.

you stumbled a bit, apologizing right away while trying to pick up your fallen bag. dino reaches down to grab it, handing it to you with a smile. “i’m sorry, are you okay?” he asked, finally getting a good look at your face.

wow, you were beautiful.

“yeah, i’m okay. thank you!”

he reached to rub the back of his neck, “yeah, not a problem..”

your eyes took him in, smiling softly. he was cute, had a great smile, cute blonde hair, kind eyes.

you two stood there checking one another out for a moment, your smiling creeping up more.

“din— oh.” a smirk grew on scoups face, a blush on dino’s. “hi. i’m seungcheol.” “y/n. nice to meet you.” even scoups was captivated by your smile.

he looked at dino who was silently telling him to fuck off but what kind of hyung would he be if he did that?

“hope i’m not interrupting here.” he said as he still held his smirk.

“no, not at all. just talking to your friend here.”

your tone was already so bubbly and flirty.

“well, i’ll leave you two at it then. dino— we’re headed to lunch soon.”

when scoups walked away, you went back to eyeing up dino.

“dino. cute name.”

“it’s a nickname. real name is chan.”

“i like dino~” you mused back.

he smirked at your playful banter. “say, wanna join us for lunch? if you’re not doing anything.”

you bit your lip and nodded, “i just need to pay for these and i’ll meet you outside?” he smiled back and nodded, turning on the balls of his feet to meet shua and scoups.

outside, scoups was filling joshua in on what dino was doing, both men smiling like fools. they just love their little brother. “did you get her number? if you don’t, i will.” scoups cockily said, earning him a laugh from joshua. “even better. i invited her to lunch.” scoups looked impressed. not that he didn’t think dino had game, just the sheer thought of dino being so forward with you.

you came out to meet them, introducing yourself to joshua briefly and then start walking to find a spot for lunch.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

lunch was great. the four of you talked but you were still more interested in dino. scoups and joshua are great but they’re not who you’re feeling.

“lunch was delicious! thank you for paying.” dino smiled, “don’t mention it. hey, what are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“nothing,” you replied, seeing dino’s eyes light up a bit. “you?”

“same. would you want to keep hanging out?” you bit your lip and nodded, “want to come with me to one more store?”

“yeah! that sounds fun!”

you guys said goodbye to scoups and joshua and left. on the walk, dino grabbed your hand and held your bags from the previous store, really

making you feel something with how kind he was.

you just met the guy and he’s already such a gentleman towards you. love.

even after shopping, you didn’t want to end your hangout with dino. leaving the shop, he grabbed your hand again and smiled down at you. you were quick to initiate, getting on your toes to give him a small kiss.

“would you wanna come back to my hotel with me? whatcha a movie?”

a smile crept on his face, nodding quickly. “yeah, i’ll hangout for a bit.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

the air was cold inside your hotel room. that’s how you ended up snuggling with dino while a movie played, you couldn’t help it. it was very platonic, truly.

well. at first.

your back is pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close while he stared off at the movie. unintentionally, his hand crept up your stomach, beginning to dance his fingertips over your exposed skin as your shirt bunched up. the teasing manner caused goosebumps to trail your skin and desire to pool between your legs.

he was smirking feeling you squirm in his hold, your body pressing more into his as his hands grew higher.

once they reached your chest, he cupped your breasts in both of his hands while he pressed a simple kiss to your temple. “this okay, baby?”

you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, “y-yeah..”

his fingers traced over the top of the cups, pulling them down to started tweaking your nipples between his fingers. you let out a small gasp, melting into him while his name left your lips.

he kissed the side of your head again, teasing “so sensitive, huh?”

each pinch of his fingers made your mind spin while pressing your thighs together desperately.

“d-dino.. want you.”

your tone sounded so desperate, feeling like just putty in his hands while inflating his ego.

“gonna make you feel so good, y/n.” he mused with another flick of his fingers, your back arching off his chest.

next thing you know, you’re moved to be sitting on his lap, your ass right against his hard length. his lips attacking yours, you pushed yourself down into him, smiling against his lips at the little groan he made. his hands found the dips in your waist, feeling like his hands were meant to sit there. his fingertips squeezed your skin as if you were going to disappear any moment.

you rested your hands on his shoulders then slid them to be around his neck, playing with his hair at the nape of his neck.

feeling you tug against his hair, he let out another groan and started to kiss down your jaw to your neck, breathing heavier into your skin, “love having your hands on me.” he then groaned.

he nipped and kissed your hot skin until he found your sweet spot, the spot that made you feel like you were melting. a small whimper left you, making you push down into his lap once more.

“fuck, you cant keep doing that, baby. big tease.”

you absolutely were a tease.

“i told you i wanted you.” you flirted back, letting out a blissful sigh at him biting a mark into your skin. “fine. then why don’t you get me ready, baby?”

you for sure weren’t going to complain. quickly, you got off his lap and made yourself comfortable between his legs, looking at how his cock was strained behind the athletic shorts he was wearing. you looked up at him with innocent doe eyes, reaching for the waistband to tug them down which, he quickly obliged. his length was impressive, making your eyes widen and mouth practically drool.

his dominate hand found your hair, caressing your head gently while he held his length up to your lips. you took the base in your hand, offering him a few pumps while licking a a bold stripe up his shaft. he groaned, eyes rolling back in his head briefly to finally get some relief he’s been needing.

you took his tip in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and looking up at him briefly. his eyes grew darker seeing yours, grabbing a bit tighter hold in your hair as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“shit, you look so pretty.”

he pushed the hair out of your face and let you work, taking him deeper in your mouth so he was threatening to hit your throat. you were stroking off what didn’t fit in your mouth. dino’s big, beautiful thighs were tensing off and on, showing he was close to finishing.

not wanting to finish yet, he gently tugged your hair and pulled you off of him then helped you back onto his lap for a rough kiss. you two made out, getting lost in one another briefly until he grabbed your hips and flipped you two over so you were on your back. he pulled away from your lips and smirked down at you while his hand ran up your leg and to your center. you gasped, pressing your chest up into his when he found your needy clit through your thin shorts.

luckily the teasing didn’t last too long and he tugged your shorts and underwear down in one go, leaving your bottom fully exposed for him. his fingers dipped into your slit, really showing just how turned on you are. he bit his lip and leaned down to kiss you again while his finger tips rubbed tight circles into your sensitive bud.

“d-dino.. need you. now..” you breathed out against his lips.

“fuck, you kill me, baby…” he growled and quickly positioned himself between your legs, rubbing the tip of his cock through your slick then deep into you, both of you letting out a moan.

dino leaned down and caged you under his frame, settling his hips to allow you to get used to the stretch.

once you felt comfortable, dino started thrusting into you, still slow at first, just enjoying the way you hugged his length. wrapping your arms around his neck, you lightly scratch his shoulders, fueling him to move faster, hitting your sweet spot right away.

sweet moans we’re falling off your tongue over and over, saying his name like a prayer as he fucked into you steadily.

you were a desperate mess, moaning and groaning while your hands held onto dino for dear life. you went front his shoulders to his hair to wrapping your arms around his neck just to keep him close and he fucking loved it. the more you grabbed onto him, the more he wanted to just give it to you— let you take it.

to stifle his moans, he was kissing and biting on your neck, aiming to leave dark marks in his wake. your skin throbbed hot while your pussy clenched around him, feeling closer and closer to your orgasm.

“dino.. s-so close!” you cried.

“cum, y/n. show me how good you feel.”

you came hard against him, loudly moaning through your high as dino slowed his hips down to let you ride it out peacefully.

after, he move you two into a new position— you on your hands and knees.

the second you’re bent over for him, his hands are squeezing and rubbing against your plump ass while lining himself up to thrust back into you.

his hands found your waist again, holding you close while he picked up the speed he left off on. your fists grabbed the bed sheets tight, your knuckles turning white from how hard they were grabbing. your brain was foggy, just pure bliss taking over you.

“i’m close, baby. where do you want it?”

“i-in me, please!!”

he bit his lip and gave you a few hard thrusts before he came deep inside of you, digging his blunt nails into your hips while he came down.

he grinned when he pulled out of you and saw your juices mixed with his making a mess down your thighs.

this is the best vacation he’s ever had.

dino quickly grabbed a rag to clean you up and helped you get dressed then himself before you two resumed cuddling atop the mattress.

“you think i can see you again before i leave?”

he smiled, “i think seungcheol will be pissed if i don’t.”

[nhmkhnh]

POISON.

PAIRINGS: DOM!VI X SUB!FEM!READER

PREFACE: "you are the poison i can't help but addict, baby."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: okayy mega jumbo headcanons about perv + obssesed vi i kept for myself out now! enjoy <3

WARNING(S): lowercase, explicit content (minors & men dni) TAGS: perv!vi ;; obsessed!vi ;; stalker!vi ;; jealous!vi ;; possessive!vi ;; filthy thoughts 24/7 ;; clothes sniffing ;; jerking off ;; shrine of your things ;; toxic obesession ;; horny thoughts ;; breaking point energy ;; protective but perverted.

navigation.

1. vi knows your entire daily routine down to the minute—and not because you told her.

she’s memorized what time you leave for class, what drink you always get from the same shitty café, and even how long you spend in the shower. she doesn't just notice it—she schedules her whole day around it. not because she has to. just because it’s you.

"you take exactly twelve minutes to brush your hair, sweetheart. you always skip your bottom lashes on tuesdays. yeah, i pay attention—what, surprised your little stalker takes notes?"

2. she steals your clothes like a sick little habit.

not the cute ones, not the fancy ones—the worn-in ones. your favorite hoodie? gone. that pair of lace panties you thought you lost in the laundry? in her pillowcase. she doesn’t even try to deny it. just smirks when you ask.

*"dunno what you're talkin’ about, baby… but if i *did* have 'em, maybe i'd just be keepin’ ‘em warm for you.”*

3. vi’s phone gallery is 90% you.

you asleep. you eating. you laughing at a meme she didn’t even send. some pics are sweet. some are… well, taken through a cracked doorway while you changed. she gets off to them on lonely nights, biting her knuckles, whispering your name.

“fuck… look at you. you’ve got no idea how bad i wanna wreck you.”

4. she jerks off to your voice.

a voicemail, a saved video, even a muffled recording from a café where you were talking to a friend. vi’s hand’s already down her sweats before she hits play. her forehead pressed to her screen. whimpering like you’re there.

“say my name, c’mon… baby, just one time. fuck—please—”*

5. she fantasizes about ruining you in public.

bent over a sink in a club bathroom. up against a brick wall in an alley. in the backseat of your friend’s car. she dreams of making you cry her name through clenched teeth, knowing people are just a few feet away.

"you’d let me, wouldn’t you? be a good girl, take it all while they pass by, clueless to how fucked-out you are…”

6. vi loves when you wear skirts.

not because they’re cute (they are). but because it’s easier access. she’s touched you under restaurant tables. at bars. even while you were on a zoom call once. and you tried so hard to keep your voice steady—god, she lives for it.

“keep talkin’—pretend nothin’s wrong, c’mon. let me feel how wet you are for me, baby.”

7. she’ll lose her fucking mind if she catches you flirting.

even if it's innocent. even if it's just you smiling too long at someone. her voice gets low, hands on your hips, jaw clenched like she might bite you. jealousy makes her primal. possessive. dangerous.

“you wanna make me mad, sweetheart? you wanna see what happens when you act like you ain’t already mine?”

8. vi dreams about breaking you in.

your thighs trembling. your voice going hoarse from screaming her name. you limping the next day. she wants to be your first thought every morning and the ache between your legs every night.

“i wanna fuck you so good you forget anyone else exists. just vi. just me, in that pretty little head of yours.”

9. she has a list of things she’ll do to you…

a literal list. scribbled in a beat-up notebook, hidden under her mattress. everything from tying you up with her wraps to edging you for hours until you cry. some pages are so smudged from her fingers she had to rewrite them.

“you wanna see my favorite entry? the one where i keep you cockdrunk for a week straight, unable to speak without moaning my name?”

10. vi doesn’t just want your body. she wants to consume you.

every laugh, every breath, every little secret you’ve never told anyone else—she wants it all. and once she has it, she’ll never let go. not gently. not softly. she wants to be the reason your legs shake and your trust breaks.

"you're mine. and if i have to fuck it into that pretty head of yours every night to remind you… so be it."

11. vi sniffs your scent like an addict in withdrawal. your pillow, your gym towel, your half-worn sweater you forgot at her place. she’ll hold it to her face, inhale like it’s oxygen, hips grinding down on nothing as her brain short-circuits.

"you smell like heaven and sin, baby. no wonder i can’t fuckin’ think straight around you…”

12. she has a secret playlist full of songs that remind her of you.

some are sexy. some are sad. some she fucks herself to while mouthing your name like it’s a prayer. she’s even written down the timestamps of parts where she imagines you begging for her.

“this part right here—yeah. that’s where you’d be moanin’ my name into the sheets, huh?”

13. vi gaslights herself into believing you want her just as twistedly.

you looked at her once for a second too long? you’re in love. you asked for help reaching something? you’re submitting. she reads everything like a sign.

“don’t act shy, baby. you’re the one who started this… remember? you asked me to come closer.”

14. she watches you sleep.

not in a cute way. in a sick, slack-jawed, pupils-blown way—her hands creeping up your thigh while whispering how perfect you are. sometimes she touches herself beside you. quiet. careful. possessive.

“so sweet… so fuckin’ good like this. you don’t even know what you do to me, do you?”

15. vi fantasizes about ruining your dates.

if anyone else tries to get close? she's already planned how to humiliate them. show up. drag you out by the wrist. maybe even kiss you so hard in front of them you can’t breathe.

“they can’t fuck you like i can. can’t make you scream, can’t make you cry. you know that, don’t you, baby?”

16. she leaves hickeys where no one can see—yet.

she marks you up under your clothes, down your thighs, on the insides of your wrists. her favorite? right over your heartbeat.

“let ‘em look at you and not know who you belong to. that’s our little secret, yeah?”

17. vi records herself moaning your name.

she’ll send it to you when she’s extra feral. or worse—she’ll play it into your voicemail box so next time you check your phone all you hear is her breathless, whimpering “please, baby… fuck, please let me taste it.”

18. she’s made a drawing of you. naked. and not from imagination. from memory. from every second she’s seen you stretch, yawn, bend over—she pieced it all together in a fucked-up masterpiece she keeps in a locked drawer. sometimes she jerks off to it. sometimes she just stares.

"my dirty little muse. you make it so easy, baby.”

19. vi edges herself to the thought of you crying her name.

no orgasms unless she earns it. that’s the rule. she pictures you tied up, shaking, begging for more. she teases herself until she's panting—then stops. again and again.

“not until she says my name like she means it. not until she breaks.”

20. she’s already imagined your wedding night.

but not the romantic part. no—vi dreams of dragging you into the honeymoon suite, ripping the dress, fucking you face-down until you sob into the sheets from overstimulation.

"you’re mine now, baby. for real. for good. ‘til death do us part—and even then, i’ll crawl outta the fuckin’ grave for you.”

21. vi has a dedicated shrine drawer of your things. not an altar. a shrine. hair ties. half-used chapstick. a receipt with your lip print. your doodles. she lays them out like relics. sometimes just stares at them and murmurs “mine” under her breath.

“it’s not weird. it’s not. you left it behind—you wanted me to have it.”

22. she reads your old texts like porn.

even innocent ones. "hey can u help me carry this?" her brain twists it instantly: "can you help me get off, vi? please? i need you." she scrolls and scrolls, one hand between her legs, the other clutching the phone like it’s a lifeline.

23. vi masturbates with your stuff.

that silky sleep shirt you forgot? wrapped around her fist. that lip balm? on her mouth before she moans against her pillow. she wants you to find out. wants you to walk in and catch her in the act, shameless and slick and ruined.

"c’mon, baby… just stand there. watch what you do to me.”

24. she’s obsessed with your mouth.

the way you pout. bite your pen. lick frosting off your finger. every time she sees it, her brain shorts out. she’s not thinking about kissing you—she’s thinking about you gagging on her strap while tears line your lashes.

“you’ve got no clue what that mouth could be doing, do you, angel?”

25. vi practices dirty talk in front of the mirror.

like some pervy little theatre kid—fingers in her hair, hips rocking, whispering what she’d say while you’re crying under her. she tests out phrases, intonations, smirks. she wants to destroy you, and she wants to say it right.

“nah… not that one. needs to sound meaner. filthier. like i’m gonna break her.”

26. she’s memorized the sound of your moan—even if she’s never heard it.

she imagines it every night. different tones, different pitches. she'll lie back, eyes shut, headphones in, playing some random porn while pretending the voice is yours.

“that’s it, baby. sound so sweet when you’re desperate. bet i could make you scream for me…”

27. vi’s favorite position is the one where she can watch your face while ruining you.

missionary? only if she’s got your wrists pinned. cowgirl? only so she can slap your ass and yank your hair. she needs to see your tears. hear your whimpers. taste your surrender.

“look at me. i said look. i wanna see your face when i break you.”

28. she gets turned on when you cry.

not sobbing. not pain. but when you're overwhelmed—flushed cheeks, trembling hands, lips parted in a whimper? she can’t help it. something about the way you come undone makes her want to kiss your tears and fuck you senseless.

“aw, baby… look at you. so sensitive. you want me to stop? or you want me to go deeper?”

29. vi doesn’t dream about vanilla shit.

her fantasies are feral. you on your knees, leash around your throat. you tied to her headboard, begging to cum. you wearing nothing but her dog tags while she fucks the possessiveness into your throat.

*"say it. say you belong to me. that you're mine and you *like* when i’m fucked up over you.”*

30. vi jerks off to the idea of you getting scared of her.

not in a cruel way. but in the oh god, what did i just awaken kind of way. she wants to watch you realize how deep her obsession runs. how dangerous it is. and how much you like it.

“you don’t even know what you’ve done to me, baby. and now? it’s too late.”

PHEWW PLEASE DON'T JUDGE ME IM JUST A GIRL </3

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Dreams (Pope Cody)

Description: Y/N wants to fuck her best friend’s uncle even though he’s 20 years older than her.

Warning: Smut, Blow Job, Pussy Eating, Shower sex, Age Gap

Word Count:3,202

Author’s Note: I’ve been waiting for Animal Kingdom to blow up so I’m prepared with fics.

Check out my Baz one: Here

“Fuck Pope Cody” She whined out his entire name as his hips banged her against the shower wall. Both of them soaked in water and sweat as they’ve been fucking for hours at this point. She clung to him, holding him close as her whines echoed in the shower. Pope, who was one to never really make a lot of noise during sex, was groaning in her ear. Her head fell back against the shower wall as she tried to hold off her orgasm, just to keep him inside a little longer. She’s dreamed of this moment…literally. 

Her eyes opened to the sound of her best friend J Cody calling her name. “What?” She groaned and pulled the blanket over her head, hoping he would go away. “Are you coming with me?” He asked her and she threw the blanket off her and looked at him. She always was with J when he did his errands and every single time he’d tease her about his uncle.

Pope was 20 years older than her and didn’t show any interest. She, on the other hand, made it noticeable that she wanted him, without realizing it. “You dreaming about my uncle again, you creep?” He jokingly asked as he waited for her to get up. She groaned and rolled her eyes, “ Shut up.” She said and got out of bed, despite the bed calling her name so she can have more dreams of Pope Cody.

“You need to get over him. There’s no way he’s into you.” J got serious for a second as she grabbed her clothes. She glared at her friend, who was only looking out for her.  She wanted to punch him, it wasn’t that simple. J wouldn’t get that, having a different girl to fuck every night.  She got dressed in the bathroom, repeating his words. In a sense he was right but it wasn’t easy to just forget about Pope like that. Not when she sees him everyday. “You wanna join a job that we are doing?” J asked as she exited the bathroom with her dirty clothes. 

Deran gives her a beer as they all stood in the back of the bar, Pope talking about the plan. It was a simple plan and Y/N was excited, she was getting to work with Pope. J watched her face lit up as he talked and he couldn’t wait to make fun of her.  “You think you can handle it?” Craig asked her and even if she couldn’t, she wasn’t turning down a chance to be near Pope.

“Yep.” She nodded and J couldn’t hide his smirk. The others left the room, leaving the best friends alone. J couldn’t help but laugh making Y/N turn to him. “What’s so funny?” She asked him. “The excitement in your face dude.” He said and she rolled her eyes. “You really wanna fuck Pope.” He said and she shrugged, “Doesn’t matter now does it?” She asked, taking in his words from earlier.

“You definitely took this job to be near him.” He smirked. “Sounds like jealousy.” She points out and he chuckles, “Oh please if I wanted to fuck you I could.” He sounded so cocky. “If I remember correctly it was me who turned you down.” She pointed out.  “Yeah for my uncle who doesn’t wanna fuck you.” He points out. Both of them didn’t realize that Pope was listening to them talk. J’s best friend wanted to fuck him? He thought as he listened to them talk. He was 20 years older than her and didn’t know how to feel about it. 

It stayed on Pope’s mind, the thought that J’s best friend wanted him and that she turned J down for him.  Pope didn’t know how to approach this and now thinking back on it, it was so obvious that she wanted him. She would wear revealing clothes in front of him and always make sure she was near him. And right now she was tanning by the pool as Pope watched from inside. Her body was amazing and she looked so good, something he’s never thought of before.

She had on a white bikini that showed off her assets nicely. She had a pair of sunglasses on but felt the presence of eyes staring at her. She opened them and nearly smirked at the sight. Pope Cody was staring at her like he wanted to devour her.  She waved at him and he stepped outside, “Where’s J?” He asked and she shrugged, not caring. “You tell me, I’ve been waiting for him.” She lied. “You guys are pretty close.” He points out and she shrugs, “We’re best friends, nothing more. Don’t know what you mean by that.” He studies her face for a moment, “You sure?” She pushed her glasses up, “I like older men.” She winked at him.

“I’m too old for you, Y/N.” She looked at him confused, “Excuse me? What makes you think I’m talking about you?” She seemed offended. “I heard you and J talking at the bar.” She sat up and turned to him, “You were spying on us?” She asked and he shook his head. “J’s laugh was pretty loud.” He pointed out and she remembered him bursting out laughing but didn’t think anyone else was near them.

Her face went red with embarrassment, “I’m 22 years old, I’m not a child.” She mumbled. “I’m 44.” He tells her as if she didn’t already know. She stood up from the chair and got closer to him, “You don’t think I see the way you look at me?” She asked with a smirk on her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He lies and she chuckles, “You were just staring at me through the window like you wanted to eat me.” His eyes bored into hers, he didn’t show any emotions at her words and couldn’t let her know she was right. “You’re delusional.” He stated and walked away from her before anything else was said. 

“He was staring at me, J. Like he wanted to ruin me.” She exclaimed while they were drinking. “But he told you what I’ve been telling you this whole time.” He states and she rolls her eyes, “Besides the point.” He turned to her, “I told you Y/N/N he isn’t the one.” She knew what he was doing and it was something he did all the time. He felt bad for her and didn’t want her to be sad over his uncle. “Y/N, he’s an idiot.” He said and she stood up, “Don’t.” She said and walked away from him. 

Everything that’s happened hasn’t left his mind, the mere thought of her was torture to him. He could fuck her but what if she regretted it after and thought he was creepy? These questions ran through his head while he laid in bed, tempted to see her.  He cursed to himself as he got out of bed and went to the house. He silently cursed as he saw her car in the driveway, of course she was here. When he walked into the house, he saw the last person that he wanted to see, her.

She was on her phone, drinking a glass of orange juice when she sensed a presence and looked up to see him, “Thought you were avoiding me.” She said and looked back down at her phone. “Yeah well I’m not here for you.” He told her and walked past her. “Wish you’d stop acting like you don’t wanna fuck me.” She mumbled and he rolled his eyes. He chose to ignore her comment and went to look for the others when he realized that she was the only one here.

He cursed and walked back into the kitchen, “Where’s the others?” He asked but she ignored him. “Hey don’t ignore me. Where’s the others at?” He asked and she stood up. They were almost face to face if not for her height, “I don’t need to answer you.” She smirks. “Hold the grudge for a second and just tell me where they are.” She shrugged and answered like a child, “Well I won’t.” He rolls his eyes and pulled out his wallet about to offer her money, “What do you want?” He asked grabbing some money.

“I want you to fuck me.” He glares at her, hard before answering, “Yeah not happening.” “I’m 20 years younger than you, so what? I’m an adult. You can try to keep up the act but it won’t work forever.” She says and he gets annoyed. “Jesus I don’t wanna-“ but she interrupts him before he could finish, “Bullshit.” He sighs as she keeps talking, “You want me and you know it. You constantly think about it whether you want to or not. Ever since you heard the conversation between J and I.”

He laughs at her words even though she was spot on. “You’re delusional.” She shook her head, “No, I’m right. And you hate that. You want me and you know-“ “I don’t want you okay?” He yells at her and she steps back. “You’re a kid to me. I don’t want to have sex with you!” She didn’t say anything as she felt tears in her eyes. She just walked away from him. 

It was best that she avoided him at all costs even if that meant staying at her own house for once. She texted J and told him that if he wanted to hang out it couldn’t be at Smurfs. Pope’s mind was going crazy since then and it was only a day later. He couldn’t sleep, not with all the thoughts that were on his mind. He couldn’t accept the fact that she was right and that he wanted to fuck her.

He looked over at the time and saw it was 1 am. It was late but he bet she was still up so he got up and went to her house. He walked up to the door and knocked on it. 5 seconds later she opened the door and her face fell at the sight. She didn’t wanna see him at all. “Leave.” She told him and went to shut the door but he stopped her. “Can I kiss you?” He asked and her hand fell from the door, shock written all over her face.

“What?” She asked, not even sure she heard him correctly. “I want to kiss you. Can I?” He asked. “What makes you think I still want you?” She asked him with a smirk. He shook his head with a laugh and pulled her to him so he could kiss her. Once their lips touch it was like a fire had started between them. He pushes her inside the house, without breaking the kiss. He closes the door and takes off his jacket causing her to pull away from the kiss to see his muscular arms. 

She pulls off her tank top revealing her tits to him. He stares for a second before pining her to the wall with a kiss. She kisses back with just as much passion and lust that he had. Her hands moved up his black shirt he had on that fit in all the right places. His hands were on the wall by her head. She pulled on the shirt, begging him to take it off. He broke the kiss and removed it, throwing it somewhere in the room.

He leaned down and began kissing her neck, barely giving her a second to breathe. She let out a gasp and her hands were on his neck and moved down until they were over his torso. He was so built and strong, so sexy.  His hands moved from the wall to her shorts as he he stuck on of his hands in them and felt her panties. They were soaked and just the slightest touch had her moaning his name.

He smirked against her neck and moved her panties aside to touch her bare clit, “Pope.” She moaned. He gathered her juices on his finger before pushing a finger inside of her. She gasped and gripped his shoulders, head falling back against the wall. “You’re right, I couldn’t get you out of my mind.” He whispered in her ear as he began thrusting his finger.

She let out a whimper at his words. His finger was thrusting in and out of her as her hips stuttered against him, daring to move. Her hands moved to his muscular back and gripped, her nails digging in his skin causing him to curse. He loved the feeling of her leaving scratches on his back and the way her pussy squeezes his finger. He decided to add another one causing her to cry out.

Her hips began meeting his thrust, each time she moaned. It was like music to his ears as he pulled back to watch her. She looked so beautiful and so focused on getting her orgasm. One of her hands moved down to her clit and she began rubbing, “No.” Pope said and moved her hand off of her, causing her to whine. Pope replaced her fingers with his, “Does that feel better?” He asked and she nodded.

It really did, better than anything she could ever imagine. Her breathing was hard and her hips were stuttering, her pussy was going crazy around his finger and he could tell that she was close, “You close baby?” He asked and she nodded, eager to cum. He removed his fingers before she could cum which made her whine. He took his fingers and licked them, tasting her pussy. Her jaw dropped at the dirty sight in front of her.

She truly couldn’t believe that he was doing this. He dropped to the floor, face to face with her cunt that was still throbbing. He grabbed her legs and threw them over her shoulder. He looked up at her as she looked down with need, “Pope.” She whispered. He wasn’t sure if it was a beg but he leaned forward and licked her clit, never looking away. She squeaked at the feeling and that made him repeat his actions. Her hand moved to his hair, “Please.” She whispered and begged him to do something.

He dove into her pussy causing her to nearly scream, he chuckled against her, the vibrations feeling amazing. She arched her back, trying to move her hips but his hands kept them pinned to the wall. She hated this but was too weak in pleasure to fight it. Her pussy was clenching around nothing as his perfect lips sucked on her clit. She starts whimpering and sobbing as her orgasm crawls back up from before. She needed it, she needed it so bad.

He does something unexpected before she could fall over the edge. He stands up with her legs still over his shoulders. She gasps and throws her head back with a sob, cumming all over his face. Her eyes roll as Pope runs his nose over her clit, helping her ride out her orgasm. She opens her eyes after a minute and looks down to see Pope’s lips and nose covered in her cum.

She laughs and he helps her down before she kisses him, moaning at the taste of herself over his tongue. She pulled away and licked the rest of it off his face. If he wasn’t hard before, he was now. Y/N drops to her knees to repay the favor, unzipping his jeans and pulling them down. Her eyes widened at the sight of the bulge in his boxers, he looked huge and she hasn’t even seen it yet. She pulled down his boxers and gasped, he was huge. His eyes stared down at her, waiting for her next move.

She looked up at him and smirked before running her thumb over the tip. He bit back a groan that threatened to leave his mouth. Her soft hand wrapped around his dick, slowly moving it to jerk him off. He closed his eyes for a moment, breaking the eye contact as he tried not to make any noise. She smirked and licked the tip, watching his eyes open. He could’ve came at the sight. Her eyes never leave his as her mouth takes him whole. He struggled to keep still as she started bobbing her head.

Curse words and her name leave his mouth in a whisper as she moaned against him. His hips bucked nearly causing her to gag. Drool was all over her chin and his cock as he fucked her mouth, trying not to hurt her. She felt herself get wet again at the sight of him trying to hold back. She didn’t want him to so she started swallowing and his hips bucked and thrusting forward hard. Her hands were placed on his thighs as she gripped them.

He started twitching in her mouth and she heard a deep moan from his chest as he came down her throat. He threw his head back as she swallowed all of it and pulls off him. He looks down at her as she wipes her mouth, her lips were swollen and her throat hurt a little but it was so worth it. She stood up and gave him a smirk, “I’ve dreamt of this moment.” She tells him and he cups her face. “How do these dreams end?” He asked her. “With you fucking me up the shower wall, fast and hard while I scream your name and hold on for dear life.” She whispered against his lips. “Where’s the shower?” He asked.

The hot water was hitting both of their bodies, steaming up the room as the water ran over both of them. The room was hot, hotter than it’s ever been as his hips snapped into her. The noises she made echoed in the bathroom and her arms wrapped around Pope as he grunted softly in her ear. She felt like she could barely breathe from how hot it was but it was so worth it.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as one arm was wrapped around her and the other placed on the shower wall. “Was this how your dream went?” He asked her, breathing hard in her ear. “This is so much better.” She whined and clenched around him. “Fuck.” He growled and lost his rhythm getting close to the edge. 

Breathy moans leave his lips as he twitches inside of her, “Fuck Pope.” She cries out and holds his head to her neck. “Cum for me.” He says as his hips lose all rhythm he had. Her eyes roll and she lets out the most pornographic moan he’s ever heard as she cums all over him.  He thrusts a few more times before he lets out a grunt and cums, filling her up. 

Pope and Y/N walk into Smurfs house with his arm around her. Everyone turns to look at them and J looks shocked. His jaw is dropped and Y/N winks at him. Pope walks over to him, “You can’t fuck her if you really wanted to.” He says to his nephew, causing her to laugh.  

[belovedenzo]

cheating on your dismissive boyfriend with punk! enzo…

| screwing your boyfriend’s enemy in the backseat of his car ! what he doesn’t know, can’t hurt him and enzo’s always happy to make you cum.

just some punk! lorenzo berkshire smut :b

words; 1.1k

warnings; lots of smut- mdni, 18+. cheating. mean dom! enzo. mentions of alcohol consumption. all characters are adults.

this apart of my AU! masterlist for more alt! slytherin boys content.

His eyes have a way of captivating you from the other side of the room- they always have. It’s those same eyes that stole you, and manipulated your loyal nature in the first place. Once his gaze has froze you where you stand, he knows he has you where you needed to be.

His favorite part of the night has always been watching you sit there and pretend to laugh at all your boyfriends idiotic jokes. Some lame house party, a house he’d definitely been in before. It’s parties like this that he goes out to every weekend looking for you. That is usually when he finds you curled up into the safe shoulder of your football team cliche lover that was hovering above you.

Jealousy is usually an emotion with negative connotation. A manifestation of one’s toxic insecurities. A primal territorial instinct. However as he watches you pine for the attention of a brain dead man who could care less about you, jealousy is no where to be found. If anything it’s quite humorous. If only your sweet boyfriend knew you have been sleeping with the schools biggest reject the entire time. The guy your boyfriend probably hates the most. A freak.

There’s a few different ways he would get you- and this is one of the easiest. You’re probably already tipsy, maybe even a little lonely as you watch your boyfriend chat with everyone except for you- especially the more far gone he becomes.

“Hey.”

It doesn’t take long before he’s standing next to you. All he had to do was wait for your boy toy to run off and get distracted so he, himself could fill the space.

Your eyes practically roll into the back of your head. “Hey.”

“You wanna go somewhere?”

That’s all it takes and he knows it. You may pretend to think it over for a moment in your head but the second the question leaves his tongue, your game.

That question is in fact the cue. With your boyfriend away, and the room crowded with people you’re free to sneak away. Enzo is always happy to give the attention you don’t receive in the lousy excuse you call your relationship.

This is at least the 10th time this month you’ve found yourself squished up against the corner of Enzo’s back seat. His car has no room, his height doesn’t help. However this has never stopped you before. You crawl into the corner of the door as close as you can get, his long torso looming over you- nearly touching the ceiling.

The small pinch in your side would be bothering you, if you weren’t getting railed by at least eight inches of girthy cock. It’s always amazed you that even in such a small space Enzo’s hips still move like butter, finding all the right spots.

At first you almost feel like he’s going easy on you, but that doesn’t last long. His hands wrap around your neck, force applied while he begins to pound into you.

This is about the time you begin to see stars, vision blurred through tears and erratic movement. The sight from above that you can see however is beautiful, and always reminds you why you started fucking Enzo in the first place. He’s fucking hot.

He’s never been the shy type, the longer he goes, the more whimpers and whines you begin to hear. Your name might even escape along with the sounds, if he’s drunk enough. At one point you begin to think he’s done, his movements beginning to stagger. But Enzo always has a second wind.

Just when you think he’s had enough of you, he gets meaner and rougher than before.

“I wonder what your boyfriend would think of you right now… below me like the slut you are.”

Insults and obscenity’s escape his lips like nothing, like he’s been thinking them all along. His hands nearly restrict your breathing, leaving just enough leeway to keep you conscious.

Admittedly- this gets you wetter than you already were if that’s even possible. The glint in eyes mixed with the venom tied to his words made you feel like a dirty girl. Enzo’s dirty girl.

It begins to ache, the pit in your stomach coming to a burning boil, waiting to combust. The sounds that escape you become desperate and after some time of abuse, Enzo lets up. He knows your about to cum, so once again he switches his attitude.

The once brutal fucking you were getting, gradually slows to a deep passionate thrust. His eyes match the pace, sweeter words filling the air than before.

“Go on, cum for me princess. You know I’m always gonna take care of you.”

His voice is deep and smooth, much softer compared to just seconds ago. You still haven’t figured this out, but he does that because you look so pitiful while you cum. Beautiful- sure. But oh so pitiful. He can’t help but baby you just a little bit.

You shake, scream and latch onto every surface of him you can. He really does love watching you like this. It may honestly be the reason why he always comes just a moment after you do, like the sight of you had caused him that much bliss.

As he finishes you off, his hands leave your neck and come to rub circles on your womb, massaging the abused area. His last few pumps are always the deepest, as you come down from your climax and he starts his.

He tremors and grunts, allowing the sluttiest of noises to fill the air of the car and probably beyond it.

“Fuck.” You breathe in, the shaky obscenity leaving both of your lips.

“You’re always so good.” His tone is condescending. He does have a tendency to be rude and sarcasm seems to be just about the only thing you get out of him besides great dick.

He pulls away without a second thought, opening the car door to give himself more space. His pants slid on with ease while you struggle with your own.

He does look back one last time, eyes scanning you up and down before he scoffs. That same captivating smirk his lips always display after he’s finished with you.

Enzo loves fucking other guys girlfriend’s. They shouldn’t have left them sitting around like that. You however, are a regular and one of his favorites.

Looking back to see the mess of a slut that you truly are has always been the cherry on top. Rushing to put your clothes back on as the wind from outside the car hardens your exposed nipples.

“Lock her up.” He wants you to lock the damn car behind you guys now? Enzo taps the top of said car before beginning to walk off and leave you half exposed, car door open. “Get back in there and pretend to love him. I’ll see you next weekend, doll.”

love, spell

taglist; @dracosprettygirl @draco-malfoys-lovergirl @dearmisshoney @dearnott @i-await @juliet-017 @harkovsangel @riddlemelater @nottscherry @moscatosin @hayleygrrr @riddlesrizzler @riddlesbunny @viperify @ur-local-wizard @eternalbuckley @biscuits-and-gracie @rriddlesgirl @obsessedwithceleste @nodoubtily @pizzaapeteer

[livwritessometimes]

I Have Not Given Up On Us Yet

: Part 16 (Max's Version)

: Who knew all Max needed to do was get drunk in order to get his life together

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: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

…

It was almost 12 by the time Y/n had gotten the call, and by 12:05, she was on her way. The entire time, she kept thinking about how she almost didn't answer. What would have happened had she not?

By 12:30, she was in the station, standing awkwardly in front of the help desk, waiting for the officer in front of her to finish the phone call he was having. Looking around the station, she could feel her heart beating in her ears. There weren't many people there, just one other person waiting in the chair near the door.

"Hi, sorry for the delay. How can I help you?" said the officer. Snapping her attention back to the man, Y/n said, "umm...I got a call. I'm here to collect Max Verstappen." "Ahh you must be Y/n, right? Yes, just fill out this form and he's all yours. I'll send someone to get him," said the officer as he ushered someone to go get Max. "Umm, officer, is it okay if I ask why he was arrested?" Y/n said as she looked up from the forms. "He was drunk and got in an argument with the bartender. We detained him before things could escalate. He's lucky the bar didn't press any charges," said the officer as he excused himself to finish some work.

After filling the form, she handed the officer the paperwork. "Y/n!" Her head snapped in the direction of the voice. There stood Max, in a hoodie and jeans, looking sheepish, like a kid who got caught stealing candies before dinner. Once he confirmed it was her, he rushed towards her. "I can't believe you came!" Max said as he pulled her into a hug. Standing there stunned at this man's drunk antics, "Oh Max, you absolute idiot, of course I came," she said as she pushed him away and started to head for the door. She reached the door only to realize Max was not following her. "You coming or what?" She questioned. "Yesss, I gotta pee first," said Max as he made his way to the washroom. Y/n sighed at that and took a seat, waiting for Max to return. "Good look with that," said the officer she had interacted with before, walking away.

Max was quieter now. He had been since he returned from the washroom. He kept looking at Y/n and then looking away. It was fine for the first fifteen minutes, but now it was starting to annoy her. "If you wanna say something, just say it," she said before looking back ahead again. "Nothing, It's just, I- I feel so stupid," said Max as he rubbed his face, trying to sober up. Y/n looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "I didn't want you to find out about this because I thought you'd leave me," Max said before he stopped walking. She turned to face him as he continued, "But my dad, you know how he can be. He kept saying all this stuff. Like I'm not doing enough, I'm wasting my time. There are the years where I should 'Focus on my career' and I just-" Max took a deep breath as he looked up, struggling to find the right words. "I just, I thought maybe he was right. So I thought ending this was the right thing to do but then you left, and it didn't feel right. All of a sudden, the house was empty, and I kept telling myself that it was fine, cause I'm supposed to focus on my future, right? But it's not. I don't think it ever will be," said Max as he finally looked at Y/n.

She stood there, taking in everything he had to say. "Do you hate me?" Max asked. By now, his eyes were slightly red. "Cause it's okay if you do. I am used to messing everything up," he finished. Taking his face in her hands, Y/n said, "You didn't mess everything up." "When I realized how late I was, I had rushed to get back home. I was so scared that I was gonna upset you even more, and then I saw what you did and it made me feel so guilty. I thought to myself, maybe you are better off without me. Girls like you don't deserve guys like me," Max said as a tear rolled down his eye.

They stood there for a while, looking at each other, unsure of what to do next. Both had said things that hurt the other, and this was not something they could just forget and be done with. Slowly, Y/n let go of his face and grabbed his hand, pulling him in the direction of their apartment. "I'm not promising anything," Y/n said, looking at Max. "But I have not given up on us yet," she continued as they made their way home.

…

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[ghostedgwen]

marauders band au, hear me out: established relationship with Remus - he writes her a song they were first dating (band is not that known yet) then fast forward to years later (band is now famous), he uses same song when proposing to reader

fade to nothing | r.lupin

note : FINALLY! omg Gabi ilysm I wanna keep writing for band au marauders after indulging in this one holyyy, thank you thank you for this amazing request! I had the best time writing 4.8k words of this absolutely amazing plot

warnings : some angst and falling out, breakups, situationships almost, fame and all the angst that comes with it, angst with comfort, hurting and healing, a happy ending

You were there from the beginning and Remus happened to lose sight of you and everything that mattered when fame came and the songs played louder, but surely if the love is strong you can fix what isn't entirely broken?

You find him backstage after the set, crouched on a flight case, tuning the same string on his guitar for the third time. The venue's still buzzing behind the curtain - voices raised, laughter echoing, cheap beer sloshing in plastic cups - but Remus looks like he’s somewhere else entirely.

He doesn’t look up when you call his name, so you try again, a little softer this time. "Remus."

His head lifts, slow, like he’s wading through a fog, and when he sees you, the line of his shoulders eases just slightly. "Hey."

You sit beside him. The flight case creaks under your weight, and he shifts his guitar to make room. The body of it knocks gently against your knee. You let the silence settle between you. It’s familiar by now - actually comfortable, in that uncertain, almost-there kind of way.

The set had gone well, you thought. Not perfect - James missed a cue in the second verse of their opening number, and Sirius got too excited with his distortion pedal halfway through the closer. But the crowd had been decent, the applause warm, and no one had stormed off stage or broken anything vital. By the Marauders’ standards, that was a win.

You glance over at him. His hands are still on the strings, but he's not really playing. Just touching, like he needs something steady to keep from drifting.

"You alright?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Yeah. Just tired."

It's not a lie, not exactly. But it's not the whole truth either. You know him well enough by now to hear the things he doesn't say. The tension in his jaw. The way his foot taps against the floor, subtle and uneven.

You nudge his arm gently. "You were good tonight. The new bridge on ‘Smoke Signals’ worked. People liked it."

He exhales a soft laugh, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "You think?"

"I know."

Another beat of quiet. Then, with a sort of resigned breath, he sets the guitar aside and runs a hand through his hair. "I, uh... I have something. If you want to hear it."

Your eyebrows lift. "Something?"

He nods toward his worn-out rucksack, half-zipped and slouched against the wall. "It’s not finished. Just a rough demo. I haven’t even played it for the others yet."

You wait, unsure.

Remus has always been the most reserved of the four. James is bold and loud, Sirius even louder, and Peter - well, Peter tries. But Remus hangs back, watching, writing, always half somewhere else. His songs come out of nowhere sometimes, all tension and feeling and quiet devastation.

And he never shares them unless they matter. So when he pulls a battered cassette recorder from the bag, your heart skips.

He presses play before you can say anything. Just static, then the soft scrape of fingers on strings.

It starts tentative. A delicate picking pattern that feels like it could fall apart any second. His voice enters like he’s afraid to hear it back - low, fragile, like something said in the dark.

You walked in like a whisper / I wasn’t ready to be seen / In a room full of noise and flash and smoke / You looked right through the screen.

You blink.

The song is quiet and quite simple. But it holds a weight you feel inyour chest.

I’ve been running half a lifetime / Hiding all the parts I hate / You didn’t ask for pieces / But you stayed, anyway.

He doesn’t look at you while it plays. He stares at the floor, hands in his lap, thumb twitching.

The song winds through verses that feel like journal entries, private and unpolished. There’s a moment in the middle where the guitar falters, like he nearly lost the thread. But then he finds it again, voice steadier.

So if I fall apart tomorrow / And I can't find my way through / Just know there was one clear moment / When everything felt true.

And then the refrain, soft like a promise:

I think I found something real / In the middle of the noise / In the quiet after the soundcheck / In the tremble of your voice.

When it ends, the silence feels heavier than the music.

You don’t say anything at first, and neither does he.

It’s like something raw hangs in the air, and touching it might make it vanish. You could almost feel your heart melt out of your chest and spill to the floor.

He clears his throat. "It’s not done. Still needs work."

You shake your head. "Remus."

He glances at you, eyes guarded.

"That was..."

But you don’t have the word. Stunning? Moving? 

He waits. "You wrote that? For me?"

His mouth quirks, nervous. "Yeah. I mean. I didn’t know if I should. Or if it was weird. But I couldn’t stop thinking about... that night after Camden. When we walked back to the station. And you said you didn’t know what we were, but you didn’t want to stop finding out."

You remember it was raining. You shared an umbrella, not hands. You both pretended it wasn’t a moment. You look at him now, the real him, sitting there with his heart practically in your hands. And it hits you how rare this is. How brave.

"It’s beautiful," you say. "And it’s not weird. It’s... it means a lot."

He heaves a sigh, it was long and relieved.

"I’m not great at saying things straight," he murmurs. "But I meant all of it. I think you know that."

You do. Which is probably what makes this so much more magical, because you understood him so well like he was made for you to decipher, a poem just for you to get.

You reach over, lacing your fingers with his. His palm is calloused from strings and stress. He grips you gently.

"So what are we, then?" you ask.

He doesn’t answer right away. Just looks at your joined hands like they might vanish if he breathes too hard. Then: "We’re figuring it out. Together."

It’s not a love song, not really quite there yet, but it’s something real. And in the backstage quiet, long after the music fades, it feels like a beginning.

The nights blur together. A haze of rehearsals, takeout containers littering the floor, cheap beer, and the low hum of amps that never fully shut off. Sometimes you're there with them in the thick of it - perched on the arm of a threadbare sofa while Sirius knocks over mic stands and James tunes his guitar by ear, stubborn and sharp. Other times you're in the background, notebook in hand, watching Remus quietly untangle melodies the way other people breathe.

Your role in The Marauders was more behind the scenes than on-stage with them. You helped get their name around, found gigs for them and even helped get them together at times. You were almost the anchor that held the band together, without them even declaring it, they knew. So did you.

Your relationship with him unfolds not in declarations, but in passing touches, exchanged glances, the brush of his shoulder against yours when he walks past in a narrow hallway. It isn't defined, not in the way others might need it to be. But you know the shape of it, and so does he.

Sometimes you sleep tangled in his sheets, half-covered in lyrics scribbled on the backs of setlists. Sometimes you fall asleep to the scratch of his pen, the low murmur of him humming a chorus to himself. There are no promises made, just moments. But they were more than enough.

The Marauders are starting to pick up steam.

Small shows turn into bigger ones. The crowds are still half friends and drunk uni students, but there’s talk now. About their sound, about the way James can work a room. About Sirius, magnetic and manic on lead guitar, playing like his life depends on it. Peter holds it together more than he doesn’t. And Remus - Remus writes like he's bleeding onto paper.

You catch Remus late one night, alone in the tiny kitchen of the shared flat the band uses as a crash pad. He’s nursing a cup of tea that’s gone cold, staring at the yellowing wallpaper like it just told him a secret only he can unfold.

You lean on the doorway. "You okay?"

He startles. Then gives a tired smile. "Didn’t hear you."

You cross the room, brush your fingers over the back of his neck. He leans into the touch without thinking. "You're in your head again," you murmur.

He shrugs. "Just thinking."

"About?"

He hesitates. Then, "About what happens if this actually works. If we make it."

You frown. "Isn't that the goal?"

He nods, but there's something unreadable in his eyes. "Yeah. But you don’t get to stay invisible when it happens. People look closer at everything."

You know what he means. About the scars that don’t fade, the nights he still wakes up clawing at himself. About the part of him he’s always tried to keep hidden beneath dry wit and harmonies.

You slide into the chair next to him. "You’ve never been invisible. Not to me."

He looks down, smile faint. "I know."

You rest your head on his shoulder. "Then what are you scared of?"

He doesn’t answer right away. Then, quietly: "That I’m not built for this. That if they see too much, they’ll leave."

You sit with that for a while, letting the softness of the silence wrap around you two. Then, just as softly, "They won't. Not if they have any sense."

He huffs a laugh. "You always think the best of me."

"I know the best of you."

He kisses your temple and whispers a thank you he probably doesn’t think you hear. But you do, you just smile through it as you knew he never needed to thank you.

A week later, you catch him slipping the demo cassette you remember into his pocket before rehearsal.

You arch a brow. "Finally going to share it?"

He looks caught. Then shrugs. "Maybe."

You grin. "Do it. You know it’s good."

He gives you a look like you’ve just dared him to jump into fire. Still, that night at the studio (more like the Potters’ spare room they never use), when the rest of the band is messing around with ideas for their next set, Remus clears his throat.

"Got something new. If you want to hear it."

Sirius pauses mid-riff, James turns down his amp, and eter puts down his half-eaten sandwich. Remus slides the tape into the player. Hits play and your song - his song, your song - fills the room.

No one speaks until it's over.

James is the first to break the silence. "Shit. That’s... damn."

"That chorus," Peter breathes. "It got me, mate."

Sirius whistles low. "Didn’t know you had that in you."

Remus looks stunned. Maybe a little terrified, but he nods. You catch his eye, and then you smile. It felt good to be someone’s muse, to have art made just for you that you knew would mean so much to you than anyone else could possibly understand.

Later, when you’re walking home under the quiet sky, his fingers brush yours.

"Thanks," he says.

"For what?"

"Pushing me."

You squeeze his hand. "Any time."

It starts small, that song. Tucked into the middle of a chaotic setlist. But people start to notice, and even ask about it. The quiet one, they say. The unusually quiet and comforting love song that was a nice surprise to end their sets on.

Remus hears that and flushes pink. You hear it and just smile, it was always your job to talk to people while the band either prepared to start or to leave. Remus always claimed you had a way with people and perhaps he was right.

You often find yourself chatting with the audience as they enjoy the show the band put on. They’d ask you about the band, about the members and you’d entertain them all. You even got the boys gigs as you made your rounds through the night.

James swears you are the best addition to the band, without actually being in it. He would go as far as to sar you are also a Marauder, as much as they are and you’d laugh, heart swelling with joy.

You were the one who sent the emails, made the calls, chased the bookings. You built their early buzz from scratch - wrote press blurbs at midnight, talked your way into indie zines, begged that one radio host to give them a spin. You did it because you believed in them. Because you believed in him.

And it worked.

One day, the email came. A scout from a mid-size label. He’d caught a set at one of the East End dives and saw something. A few meetings later, they had a deal.

Everything shifted after that.

More shows. Bigger venues. Studio time, and even interviews. The rush of something real, finally. You should’ve been thrilled. Part of you was. But the rest - the rest started to feel like a background player in a story you used to help write.

The label brought in producers. Real ones, with real opinions.

They listened to the demo, the song. Your song.

Then they tore it apart. “We need more drive.” / “Strip it down, rebuild it with a cleaner hook.” / “This bridge isn’t radio-friendly.”

Remus was quiet during the meetings. Didn’t fight them, not really. You tried. Brought up the emotion. The intimacy, claiming it was the point and tried to plead your case that the audiences back in their smaller gigs loved it.

One of the execs waved you off. “It’s got potential. But the personal angle - it doesn’t scale.”

You could see it on Remus’ face. The way his shoulders hunched in. The way he stopped meeting your eyes, and then the new version hit the speakers. Louder and way shinier. But hollow.

You didn’t say anything. Not then.

Tour started two weeks later.

You were there at first. Helping with the logistics. Keeping things steady. But there were new people now - tour managers, stylists, publicists. The chaos turned professional. Your place among the crew grew uncertain. No one asked you to leave but no one asked you to stay, either.

Remus was always moving. Always being pulled to the next thing. Photoshoots, interviews, soundchecks.

He kissed you when he could. Touched your hand when he passed. But the quiet space you’d shared - those slow nights and whispered mornings - vanished under flashing lights and back-to-back obligations.

The night of the London gig, it all boiled over.

They played the reworked version. The crowd loved it. Cheered like mad. You stood in the wings, watching Remus smile, watching him hold the mic like he was born for it. And all you could think about was the first time he played it for you, nervous and raw and perfect.

Backstage was a blur of congratulations. Champagne flowed in celebration. Flashes from press cameras. Laughter was overlapping as the cheers and applause echoed in the background.

You waited until the others filtered out before catching him in the hallway, breathless and golden with adrenaline. “You didn’t even look at me during the set,” you said.

He blinked. “What?”

“The song. It used to be ours.”

His smile faded. “Don’t do this now.”

“Why not? Because we’re backstage at a real venue, and you’ve got an image to keep?”

“That’s not fair.”

“No? Because I fought for you. For all of this. I believed in that song when no one else did.”

He ran a hand through his hair, jaw tight. “And now it’s out there. Isn’t that what matters?”

You stared at him. “You didn’t write it to be out there. You wrote it for me.”

It was deafening silence after that. You could feel the cracks appear in the glass then, how the quiet settled between you to make you realize of the distance that had been there. He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t step closer either.

You nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

You walked away before he could answer, and for the first time since this all began, he didn’t follow.

Tour season continued with a vengeance. Venues booked back-to-back. Interviews, press junkets, photo ops. The Marauders were no longer the scrappy underdogs playing pub basements. They were headliners, and it was loud, so loud it drowned out everything else.

You made your choice before the second leg kicked off. You weren’t going to follow this time. Not because you didn’t care. But because somewhere along the line, you’d forgotten how to care for yourself.

You took the foundation you’d built - the networking, the hustle, the branding knowledge - and pivoted. Found work consulting for other rising acts. Wrote press copy, coached new managers, ran social strategy. You had your own projects now. Your own calendar. Your own name in someone else’s liner notes.

But some nights, you still kept tabs. You’d see grainy photos in tabloids. Headlines swirling with speculation.

Remus Lupin spotted leaving afterparty with model—sources say they’re close. 

Band tension? Lupin’s emotional ballad scrapped from upcoming single release.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. That you knew him better than some column in a glossy rag. Still, it stung. He never reached out. Neither did you, and the rift between is ever growing.

You got the call on a Thursday, you had been buried deep in some paperwork for another small band you’d found playing at the pub where you used to watch the boys play. You answered without thinking much of it.

Sirius, voice clipped and shaken. "It’s Remus. He collapsed after soundcheck in Amsterdam. Exhaustion, they think. Maybe an infection. He’s asking for you."

You were on a plane within hours.

The hotel suite was quiet when you arrived. Dim. Sirius nodded at you in the hallway, eyes rimmed red. James gave you a tight hug. Peter, leaning in a chair near the wall,greeted you with a small smile, but murmured a low, “He’s down the hall.”

You found him in bed. Pale and almost flushed from the fever. The IV line taped to the inside of his elbow looked wrong. Out of place. You stood in the doorway for a long time before he opened his eyes.

"You came," he said, voice dry and cracking.

You sat beside him. “Of course I did.”

He stared at you, too tired to pretend. “I fucked everything up.”

You brushed sweaty hair off his forehead. “You ran too fast, too hard. Doesn’t mean it’s over.”

He closed his eyes. “It felt easier when you were around.”

That confession broke something between you, like a glass wall that you’d both build around each other. Too stubborn to bring it down and yet you can see each other through so clearly. Your hand stilled at his words.

“I needed space, Remus.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I just didn’t know how to keep going without making it worse.”

You watched him breathe. His breaths came in slowly and they were shallow.

“I read the articles,” you said finally.

He opened his eyes again. “They weren’t true.”

You nodded. “I figured.”

“I missed you,” he said. “Not just at gigs. All the time. In the quiet moments when I had no idea what the hell I was doing.”

“You didn’t call.”

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

The space between you was heavy. But not empty. He shifted, wincing as he reached for his bag beside the bed. From the front pocket, he pulled out an old, battered cassette. The label was peeling. Your handwriting still faintly visible.

“I kept it,” he said. “Even when they made me change it. I couldn’t throw this one away.”

He reached across to the small player on the side table, you watched him through his struggle knowing he wouldn’t want help. You swallowed thickly as he pressed play.

That same raw demo from all those nights ago filled the room. Slightly warped now with age. But still clear. Still beautiful.

Still yours.

You listened in silence, your eyes were glossy but tears didn’t actually form. When it ended, he looked at you.

“I never stopped meaning it,” he said.

You reached for his hand.

“I know.”

It didn’t fix everything. But it softened the break.

Sometimes, that’s the first step back.

Post-tour life moved slower. The kind of quiet that felt almost foreign.

Remus came back to London two weeks after they all finished the last two remaining cities from the tour. You opted out of accompanying him, you still had work back home. You met him at the airport, holding a homemade sign that said Marauder Down: Emergency Recovery in Progress. He laughed, tired and soft, and leaned into you like he remembered how to breathe.

You weren’t together again. Not officially but you were… something. Enough to share Sunday mornings and late-night tea. Enough to talk without something heavy hanging in the air for the first time in months.

You sat on the floor of your flat one evening, records scattered around you both.

“I don’t know if I want all of it,” he said, finger fidgeting the sleeve of a Bowie LP. “The touring. The cameras. The curated answers.”

“You don’t have to take it all,” you said. “Just take the parts you want.”

He looked at you then, eyes clearer than you’d seen in ages. “And what if the part I want the most is sitting right in front of me?”

You didn’t answer. You just reached for his hand.

He started spending more time in the small spare room of your flat, hunched over a borrowed acoustic guitar. Said he was just noodling. Said it wasn’t important, but you heard the chords through the wall. The same gentle cadence. The same fragile beginnings.

You didn’t push.

Meanwhile, James invited you to dinner - just you. Which was odd enough to be suspicious. You and James were close as much as you were close with the other boys from the band but you were never out alone with just one of them.

Other than your thing with Remus, you were pretty much a whole group.

“They’re planning something,” he said between mouthfuls of curry. “The next album. It's going to be different.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“Less polish, more truth. Remus is writing again.”

You tried not to let your heart leap.

“But he’s hiding something,” James added. “He’s cagey. Won’t show anyone the arrangement he’s working on. Not even Sirius. That’s when I know it’s serious.”

You smiled, just a little. “I might have an idea.”

The invitation to the televised performance came two months later. BBC special. A full set, plus an interview. Their first major appearance post-tour. By now they have about two to three songs in the top 10 charting and blasting on radio stations.

Remus was quiet the whole afternoon before. Not anxious, just… internal. Backstage was a blur. Techs running lines, makeup touch-ups, nerves buzzing like power lines.

Then it was lights, camera, cue. The band opened strong. A new track. A crowd-pleaser. Sirius was electric, James radiating joy. Peter was somewhat cool and poised. Remus… centered. Like he’d found something he thought was lost.

Then came the last song. He stepped up to the mic alone, guitar slung across his chest.

“This next one’s an old one,” he said, voice steady. “Most of you haven’t heard it like this. Not the way it was meant to be.”

The lights dimmed. Just a single spotlight on him, it felt like the world had slowed down as you heard those first few strum on the delicate guitar strings.

He played the original. Your song. Unchanged, untouched, like that first night he ever let you hear it. When it was quieter, when you were both unsure and the world wasn’t yet looking. 

You felt yourself choke up, hearing that song again like it was a promise being remembered. You couldn’t help the tears from flowing out of you. When the final chord faded, he let the silence sit.

“I wrote this before any of this,” he said, gesturing around the stage. “Back when we were barely getting gigs and figuring out who we were.”

You could almost throw up from the anticipation.

“And I never would’ve kept going if it weren’t for one person. Someone who believed in me when I didn’t. When I couldn’t. Everything I’ve become, everything this band has achieved - it started with her.”

The camera cut to you in the front row. You felt your heart stutter. Remus stepped forward.

“I used to think love had to be earned. That I had to prove I was worth the risk. But she never asked me to be anything other than myself. She just stayed. And helped me find the way back.”

He reached into his pocket, time that was slowing completely stopped. A ring, you could see the stone on it glisten from where the spotlight shining on Remus hit it.

“Come up here,” he said.

Your legs moved before your mind caught up. The stage felt impossibly bright. The crowd quieted. You could hear your pulse as some of the stage crew guided you up, their smiles so wide at you.

When you reached him, he took your hand.

“I don’t need the spotlight. I just need you. Always have.”

You blinked back the blur in your vision. “I’m not asking for perfect. Just for forever. Will you?”

You didn’t even let him finish. You kissed him first. The crowd erupted. It was almost uncharacteristic for someone as reserved as Remus to propose so publicly, but you could see the reason behind it.

He had spent some time too deep in his own head to truly appreciate you, what you meant to him and you both wasted time pretending like you mattered less to one another. With this big, grand declaration of his love, he will silence everything else.

All the doubt, all the whispers. He will close all the distance that had been in between.

Later, offstage, as the noise of the moment faded and the two of you curled into each other in the green room, he whispered: “I kept the song for you.”

You kissed his jaw. “I know.”

It was a beginning. A beautiful one, despite everything it took to get there. He had grown into this person that was no longer the Remus you first knew but you have changed as well, you both have.

Now the rest of your lives will be spent getting to know the new versions of yourselves.

The venue buzzed with the final echoes of the crowd, lights slowly dimming as roadies hustled to pack up gear. You stood just behind the curtain, swaying slightly as the adrenaline of the set faded. Remus walked offstage, guitar still slung over his shoulder, shirt damp with sweat and a wild, boyish grin tugging at his mouth. His eyes found you immediately.

“There’s my girls,” he said, kissing your temple first, then brushing his lips over your daughter’s forehead. “How are my girls?”

He looks at your daughter, all curls and oversized headphones, sat on your hip - wide-eyed and sleepy. “Tired,” you answered with a soft laugh, shifting your daughter to your other hip. “But we loved the show.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, me more than her.”

Behind him, Sirius bounded over and swooped your daughter into his arms dramatically, practically stealing her from you. “There’s my favourite groupie!” he declared, spinning her gently while she squealed.

James wasn’t far behind, ruffling her hair and pulling a face that made her giggle again. “You know, I think we’re the reason she has such great taste in music,” he said to you with mock seriousness.

“You’re the reason she knows how to headbang,” you quipped back, rolling your eyes fondly.

Peter approached a moment later, slightly out of breath from the encore. “Hey,” he greeted you warmly. “Did you enjoy the show?”

“I always do.”

He smiled. “Wish you could keep touring with us.”

“I’d love to,” you said honestly, “but I’m not hauling a three-year-old from city to city every other week.”

Remus laughed and nodded, wrapping an arm around your waist. “She’s got a point. I miss having you out here every night, but this one needs a consistent bedtime.”

“She’s got better tour stamina than you did at twenty,” Peter joked, nudging Remus.

Remus mock-glared. “Yeah, well, she doesn’t drink whiskey like water.”

Your daughter yawned against Remus’ shoulder now, tiny arms curling around his neck. The chaos of the crew and lights blurred around the six of you, like white noise under a melody that only the band - your makeshift family - could hear.

end. masterlist

[dollyswishingwell]

ᯓ★ˎˊ˗ Mama’s Princess P.7

𝒲𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝑜𝓇 ˙⋆✮ Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, Sylus, Caleb

𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒/𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 ˙⋆✮ fluff, for this person who recommended this thank you, made it almost headcanony, not that much mamas girl in this, lowkey a dad and daughter bonding fic

> ࣪𖤐.ᐟ It’s a daddy daughter dance

Masterlist

𝙍𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙮𝙚𝙡 °‧🫧⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

“I’m not going,” Rafayel declared from the bathtub, arms draped dramatically over the porcelain like a drowned Victorian widow. “It smells like glue sticks and abandonment trauma in that place.”

You didn’t look up from your mascara wand. “She asked for you. Specifically.”

Rafayel blinked at the ceiling. Then muttered, “…Fine.”

—

Three hours later, he was standing in the preschool auditorium wearing a sheer lavender button-up, pearl cuffs, and glitter in his waves, glitter, while his daughter twirled around in a custom-made seafoam tutu with a cape that trailed behind her like a royal decree.

The gymnasium reeked of juice boxes and low self-esteem. He hated it here.

“I feel ill,” he whispered, crouching beside her.

She was gnawing on a sugar cookie and beaming at you across the room. “Mama’s pretty,” she said dreamily.

Rafayel made a noise like a kicked crab.

—

Then the music started.

He rose, hand out. “Shall we, my pufferfish?”

She stared up at him.

Then, horror of horrors,

She ran to you.

“I wanna dance with MAMA!” she wailed, cheeks puffed. “Not Daddy! Mamaaaa!”

The crowd turned.

Rafayel’s arm dropped.

You gave him a pitying smile. “She’s just shy—”

“No,” he said, dead-eyed, backing into the shadows like a disgraced villain. “I get it. I’m not the favorite. I’m just the guy who makes couture capes and fries shrimp.”

He sulked in the bleachers the rest of the night, swiping glitter off his sleeves like betrayal.

—

Later that night, you woke to find him curled around both of you in bed. The toddler drooled on his bare chest, tiara still skewed on her head. He stared at her like a ghost.

“She said you’re her favorite.”

You kissed his temple. “She also called a pigeon her ‘real dad’ last week.”

A pause.

He muttered, “…I’ll take second place.”

But he tucked her in tighter anyway.

𝙕𝙖𝙮𝙣𝙚 ⋆꙳•❅‧*₊⋆☃︎ ‧*❆ ₊⋆

Zayne adjusted his tie in the car mirror, dead silent. His dress shirt was crisp, coat tailored, glasses polished within an inch of their life.

“She said we had to ‘match,’” you reminded, fixing his boutonnière, a tiny satin heart your daughter taped to his lapel. It was crooked. It would stay crooked. He didn’t flinch.

“I’m aware,” he said flatly. “She also said I’m not allowed to wear black because it’s ‘boring and sad.’”

You kissed his cheek. “You’re a vision in beige.”

He didn’t smile.

But his ears were pink.

At the dance, he held her little hand like it was a surgical instrument. Gentle, precise.

She stomped her feet with wild abandon, glitter shoes flashing, curls bouncing. Zayne followed her lead stiffly, like someone trying to dance without disturbing a sleeping cat.

Other parents whispered.

Your daughter stared up at him mid-spin.

“You dance like a robot.”

He blinked.

She tugged his sleeve. “But you’re my robot.”

His face didn’t change.

But you swore you saw his mouth twitch.

After the slow song, she abandoned him entirely. Ran to you.

“Mommy,” she said between giggles. “Daddy tried to twirl. It was terrible.”

Zayne sat on a tiny plastic chair off to the side, arms folded, expression blank. The tape-heart on his lapel had fallen off.

You brought him a juice box. He took it without looking.

“She called me terrible.”

“She also said you’re her robot.”

Zayne’s glasses slid down his nose slightly. “I suppose I’ll take that over being replaced.”

Pause.

He glanced at the dance floor.

Then at you.

“…Do you want to dance?”

You smiled. “Absolutely.”

He didn’t flinch when your daughter climbed between you, tiny arms curled around his leg.

Zayne just held you both, coat sweeping the floor.

𝙓𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙧 ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Xavier arrived in a full white suit.

Why?

Because she said he looked “like a sleepy prince.”

His silver hair was braided with little flower clips. Not by you. By your daughter. He had no say. He simply blinked once and said, “Okay.”

He carried her in one arm and a paper bag of lemon cookies in the other. They both wore glittery stickers on their cheeks. Also not his idea.

They lasted eight minutes into the dance.

Eight.

You were helping at the photo booth when your daughter came trotting up alone, curls bouncing, tutu fluffed.

She pointed one tiny hand behind her. “Papa’s sleeping again.”

You looked. Yep.

Xavier had found a beanbag chair in the corner of the auditorium, folded himself into it like a dead swan, and passed out, arms crossed, mouth slightly open, dreamless.

There were children climbing around him. He didn’t stir.

Your daughter pouted at him for the next half-hour.

She didn’t want to dance without her Papa.

So naturally, she dragged him by the hand onto the dance floor when he finally woke up.

He blinked, disoriented.

“You’re late,” she scolded.

Xavier bowed with a serious nod. “Forgive me. I was… unconscious.”

They slow-danced like two ghosts, her standing on his feet, his hands holding her up gently.

She leaned in and whispered, “You’re not allowed to sleep at my wedding.”

He froze.

“…I’ll set an alarm.”

𝙎𝙮𝙡𝙪𝙨 ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𓅨⋆｡°✩

“Do I look like a man who attends dances held in public school gyms?” Sylus asked, arms spread dramatically, already in a custom-tailored black-on-crimson suit.

You deadpanned. “You bought the school yesterday, Sylus. You own the gym.”

He smirked. “Precisely. That’s why I shouldn’t be seen in it.”

—

But the moment his little girl appeared at the top of the stairs in her feathery black tutu and matching crow pin, Sylus fell silent.

She looked exactly like him, silver curls, red eyes, smug little tilt to her chin.

He knelt and offered her his hand like she was royalty. “Shall we show these mortals what grace truly looks like?”

She nodded. “But I wanna do spinny moves.”

“…Fine.”

—

The second he stepped onto the glitter-covered gym floor, a dozen moms swooned. A dad visibly panicked.

Sylus ignored all of it, twirling her with theatrical flair while muttering to his earpiece, “Make sure no one posts footage. I will destroy the internet.”

She tugged his sleeve mid-dip. “Daddy. You’re scary.”

He blinked down at her. “Good.”

“Noooo,” she giggled. “You have to smile! Like this!”

She showed him, wide teeth, big cheeks, crinkle eyes.

He looked… unwell.

“…Horrifying,” he muttered. But he did it. Just for her.

—

By the third song, she spotted a little boy in suspenders dancing alone.

She marched up. “You dance with me now.”

The boy looked terrified. Sylus appeared behind him like a shadow. “She asked nicely.”

The child nodded frantically.

Sylus returned to your side, arms crossed, eye glowing faintly. “If he steps on her toes, I’ll ruin his lineage.”

You sipped your punch. “Normal dads just threaten curfews.”

He raised a brow. “She deserves a throne, not curfews.”

—

Later that night, she fell asleep in his arms in the back of the car.

Sylus stared down at her small, sparkly form. Quiet for once.

“…I’d tear down empires for her,” he said, barely above a whisper.

You leaned against him. “She just wants a plushie throne.”

He smirked. “Done.”

𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙚𝙗 ⋆｡ ‧˚ʚ🍎ɞ˚‧｡ ⋆

He arrived in full Farspace Fleet formal uniform.

Yes, the one with aiguillettes, gloves, boots, and tactical perfection.

Why? Because his daughter had looked up at him with those big purple eyes and said,

“Dress like a prince pilot general man.”

And so he did.

—

The gymnasium was decorated with streamers and tissue paper stars. Caleb entered like it was an off-world battleground, scanning exits, calculating fire code violations, and quietly making a note to replace the ceiling tiles with reinforced anti-quake material.

You leaned against the snack table and whispered, “Are you going to debrief the DJ too?”

He glanced at you.

“He’s already been briefed. Twice.”

—

His daughter, in a starry blue gown and tiara, stood on his polished boots with her arms up.

“Daddy,” she said very seriously, “tonight is our night but mommy has to dance with us too.”

He didn’t blink. “Understood, Commander.”

You sigh from across the room. “not even one day of peace for mommy”

She stuck her tongue out at you.

Caleb leaned in and whispered, “Operation: never exclude mommy.”

—

They twirled.

Caleb, dancing with perfect, stoic elegance, gently lifted her and spun her like she was a moon orbiting his gravity core.

The other parents were stunned.

Someone muttered, “Is that guy in the military or—?”

You didn’t correct them.

You did take a video.

—

Later, she napped on his shoulder while he stood guard by the door.

A teacher approached and asked if he wanted a picture printed for the school’s bulletin board.

He said flatly, “Only if it goes in the tactical archive as well.”

You snorted. “The what?”

He looked at you over her tiara. “The black vault. Where I store everything precious.”

You melted.

She snored softly.

Caleb didn’t move an inch.

[traumadumpwriter]

Ninety Five - 2

Controlling!Rafe × ED!Reader

"It's not a big deal, I just want to get to ninety five pounds before Midsummers"

Summary: Reader is suffering from an eating disorder and when Rafe finds out about it he struggles to be sympathetic

Trigger warning for explicit depictions of an eating disorder, bulimia, vomit, starving, seizure, drug use, controlling behaviour

Word Count: 5.1k

Part One

I wasn’t actually going to upload this as I decided that I didn’t like it but now I’ve changed my mind lol soo this is the original draft I wrote for this part. Hope u all enjoy <3 (Divider by @kodaswrld)

Part Two

You were okay for a little while after that. You'd stopped throwing up and when you were with Rafe you had no choice but to eat your meals. You knew that it was just his way of showing that he cared - but you hated it with your entire being. At first when the weight started to come back you tried to convince yourself that you were fine with it. Rafe never said anything about your weight, the only comments he usually had about your body were sexual and so you couldn't tell if he'd noticed.

"He must have noticed. He must just feel bad." You'd thought to yourself, and so the acceptance quickly started to falter and soon you were counting calories again.

Once enough time had passed that Rafe had decided he'd 'fixed' your bulimia, he'd loosened his grip on you and you'd soon devised ways to get some time away from him. You just needed to be able to get your appearance back on track - Midsommers was only months away and you had to be perfect for it.

One of the ways you'd managed to spend a couple days at a time without eating was by driving to Charleston to stay with your sibling - claiming that you'd been tutoring your niece whilst you were there. Rafe was none the wiser, even slightly proud of you for doing such a sweet thing. It made you feel uneasy - his loving goodbye kiss - but you knew that the end result would be worth it. And besides, spending time away from Figure Eight was nice whether your family were around or not - although occasionally stressful on an empty stomach.

You'd also been blessed by uncharacteristically colder weather, meaning you'd been able to wear baggier clothes and hide your body from Rafe. On a couple of nights spent with him you'd even gone home before he could initiate sex, just with the sole intention of hiding your body. He'd obviously made a fuss about this, pouting as you'd left, suggesting that you could just study with him, but you'd rarely given in and when you had, you made sure he was intoxicated or the lights were off.

It was now two weeks until Midsommers and you were driving back from a six day stint in Charleston, actually excited to see your boyfriend. You'd weighed yourself that morning had been elated by the number staring back at you.

Ninety five pounds. You were officially under one hundred pounds.

With every number you drove past on the highway - speed limits and road signs - you thought of your own number and how proud it made you. How happy Rafe would be to have you in his bed that night.

Nighty five.

He called you when you were just twenty minutes away, his grin audible through the phone.

"How long you gonna be babe? I'm at the golf club with the boys and their bitches. They all wanna see you."

"I'm not back yet. I need to get changed and shower and do my makeup. Give me like an hour."

"Okay well we'll have to start without you. You can just hop on my team later."

There was a hint of mischief to his tone, something that made you excited. You giggled and nodded, forgetting that he couldn't see you for a second.

"Sounds good. I'll see you soon." You replied, going to hang up until he spoke again.

"Drive safe, okay? I love you."

Your stomach swarmed with butterflies and you blushed, quieting returning "I love you too" before ending the call.

It still didn't make sense to you that he loved you. How could Rafe Cameron love you?

When you got home, you were disappointed to find that the weather had warmed up in the days that you'd been away - meaning your wardrobe had to be more appropriate for the time of year. If you wore a sweatshirt around Rafe in weather more suited for a tank top he would definitely say something about it. Your best option seemed to be a knee length skirt and a silky shirt - one of the cute ones that Rafe liked.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you didn't feel like you hated what you were seeing for the first time in a while. You'd started to feel a little light headed after hurriedly cleaning the rest of your clothes away, but you drank some water and soon felt fine again. "It's just anxiety. Plain, standard anxiety." You told yourself. Still, just for good measure you put your fingers down your throat and all that came up was bile.

"Ninety five." You repeated to yourself before looking in the mirror.

You brushed your teeth and re-examined yourself, deciding that you might look actually quite sexy. There was a moment driving where you started to feel dizzy but you were quickly able to snap out of it. You accounted it to anxiety again and drank more water, then took some deep breaths once you arrived.

"I'm fine. I'm just excited to see Rafe. I look good. He's going to think I look good too." You convinced yourself before stepping from the car and making your way over to reception.

"Ah, Miss L/N, Mr Cameron and his company are across the pitch. I'll have someone drive you in one of the carts." The receptionist greeted you quickly and you made polite small talk with him, having gotten to know a lot of people through Rafe.

The breeze on your skin as the cart drove across the field was relieving and part of you didn't want the ride to end. But when you saw your boyfriend, tall and handsome as he joked with his friends, you felt your anxiety lessen a little. His eyes lit up when he noticed you and he stepped towards the cart before it had stopped moving. You got out and walked towards him before stepping onto your tip toes to kiss his lips. He returned the kiss, his hands holding your arms, and then pulled away with a sly smile.

"I missed you." He said lowly.

"It's only been like a week, not even." You giggled, your chest full of butterflies.

"Well I want you everyday, babe." He whispered in your ear before kissing you again. "And it's been way longer than a week since I fucked you."

His hand wandered down to your waist, where he held it and then backed away, his eyes suddenly wider. He ran them swiftly up and down your body, taking in your appearance with a somewhat perplexed expression.

"What?" You asked, your chest going tight.

"Nothing." He muttered, a smirk starting to pull at his lips at your worried expression. "You just feel.. small is all." Both of his hands moved to your waist and he pulled you in closer, his voice getting lower. "You been working out or something?”

"Get a room!" Kelce taunted from a few feet away, making you blush whilst Rafe ignored him and snorted.

"He's so jealous. Even though you're dressed like a nun again. What's up with that?"

"I'm not dressed like a nun. I look nice. It's called being modest, you should try it." You returned, crossing your arms.

Rafe felt his stomach flip as he looked down at you, the feeling still freaking him out every time it happened. But nonetheless, he was suspicious. Your trips to Charleston seemed innocent in nature, but he was suspecting that you were hiding something. Did you have a secret lover there? Maybe he'd been fucking you so much you'd actually toned your abs. There was no way you would've been throwing up again. That was just a stupid little phase - you'd talked it through with him. The thought of either pissed him off and naturally, when he was pissed off at you he thought about fucking you.

He ran his eyes up and down you again, excited by the way it clearly made you feel so vulnerable even though your shape was indistinguishable under the baggy clothes, and then he smirked.

"You're cute." He tutted with a wink, patting your butt lightly before turning to walk back to the group.

From the smugness of his demeanour you knew that you were going to get fucked good later and you almost had to cross your legs at the thought. Watching him play golf in the sun for the next hour was torture. He looked beautiful, as per, and whenever he caught your eye he would send you a wink that turned your bones to jelly.

Hanging out with Georgia and Elle wasn't so bad, though you found Elle to be slightly irritating, the conversations were sometimes funny. Mostly that day though it had just been the two girls talking and you listening, as you were finding it hard to concentrate on anything. Elle had directly addressed you now though, and you had to quickly pretend as if you'd been mentally present the entire time.

"Don't you find it so weird that Sarah's like - a full on Pogue now? Have you spoken to her recently?" She'd pried, her voice falsely sweet.

"I've not spoken to her in a while. I'm sure she's doing fine though. Why? Have you spoken to her?"

"No, no! It's just- the whole Topper thing. And John B of all people! Doesn't Rafe hate his guts?"

You had to think for a moment before answering and when you did it unintentionally came out as a huff "Her and Topper had their issues, maybe it was for the best that they broke up, after all now he's with Georgia."

Georgia shot you a half smile, grateful but hating any mention of his ex.

"Yeah I mean I hope she's doing okay too. Those Pogues - they're dangerous. I heard this story the other week..."

Elle's voice was suddenly replaced by a high pitched ringing sound in your ears and an intense wave of crippling nausea. Your body felt hot and your arms started to uncontrollably tremble - and then your legs. They felt entirely weak and you quickly lowered yourself onto the ground, trying to stop the dizziness and catch your breath - it didn't work though. Black spots filled your vision, the ringing got louder and your chest got tighter. And then you felt yourself loosing complete control of your body, your eyes rolling back and then closing as your head hit the ground. Your body shook and your muscles clenched in an uncontrollable motion before suddenly relaxing and then passing out entirely.

"Shit." Georgia rushed to your side whilst Elle screamed for the boys.

"Y/N! She's- She needs help! Call an ambulance!" She shouted, running across the field.

They were all confused at first, Elle's loud appearance serving as a sudden shock to their conversation, but then the words processed and all three boys started to move.

"What the hell is she talking about?" Rafe's thoughts whirred, annoyed and almost certain that nothing would've actually happened. Elle was just a bimbo who loved attention.

He turned to look over at where you'd been standing a few minutes ago and was incredibly shocked to see that you were actually lying on the ground, looking unwell with Georgia crouched beside you. Rafe's heart dropped to his stomach. Immediately, he dropped his club and raced over, with Topper and Kelce in pursuit. He felt a sudden and intense fear that he'd never felt before. His mind span with confusing and worrisome possibilities as to what had just happened, and he felt completely helpless as he dropped to your side and looked around your body for some kind of injury. When he found none it soothed his panic for a moment, but the feel of your dead weight as he lifted you into his lap quickly had him confused and scared again.

He said your name, almost like he was commanding you to wake up before looking up at Georgia and demanding "What the fuck happened?"

Before she could answer, he looked to Topper and shouted "Call an ambulance!" and then turned back to Georgia and repeated himself. A small crowd of people had quickly gathered at the noise of Elle shouting and unbeknownst to Rafe a medical cart was already on its way. Impatiently, he stood up and lifted you with him, carrying you towards the reception at a pace that Georgia struggled to keep up with, ignoring the worried onlookers.

"She had a- a seizure or something. And then just fainted. I don't know what happened! It was out of nowhere." She stammered.

"A seizure?" Rafe's eyes widened and he froze, looking down at you with nothing but panic. He shook his head and tried to collect himself "Well you could've fucking said that before I picked her up! Are you meant to do that? Fuck! O-Okay do we need to like move her into that position or something- come on! One of you know what the fuck I'm talking about! They show it on TV!.. Fuck!" He barked at his friends, who all looked just as lost as he did.

"Hey bro- it's gonna be alright. Paramedics are on their way." Topper said lowly, patting Rafe on the arm and casting you a worried glance.

"You sure she had a seizure?" He questioned Georgia to which she shrugged and shook her head.

"I don't know. I think it was. I've never seen that before." She answered, looking down at you before looking up at Topper with a shaken expression. He pulled her into a sympathetic hug and went to say something else which Rafe angrily interrupted.

"Well that's a useless answer. Where'd you find this one, Top? Am I meant to do something- should I put Y/N on the ground? Is it bad to be holding her like this? Come on- one of you must've seen that fucking advert!"

"Well she's not still having a seizure right now is she? So the advert would be pretty useless." Georgia hissed, a slight shake to her voice.

Rafe wanted to berate her but he was too afraid to shift his concentration from you. It was scaring him that you hadn't shown any signs of stirring yet and he started to imagine the worst. As soon as he caught sight of the medical golf cart he paced towards it and you were quickly in the back, laid across his and Topper's laps. A short moment of tense silence had passed before they all started arguing again and it didn't stop even as they got to reception to wait for the ambulance, first aid officers checking you out meanwhile.

"Don't talk about my fucking girlfriend like that. Just because you're stressed doesn't make that right." Topper had raised his voice which Rafe quickly shut down.

"Oh well sorry I'm stressed it's almost like my actual girlfriend just had a seizure and your fucking rebound did nothing to help!" His tone was far more intimidating than Topper's could ever be even without much volume.

"What the fuck was I meant to do? Are you crazy?" Georgia scoffed, her face going pink.

"You should've shouted as soon as she went white. You said Elle ran over after she'd fainted. How many things happened in between those points?"

"It was all within the span of about thirty seconds. You're actually fucking crazy."

"Top, send this bitch home."

Topper put his hand on her shoulder but she shrugged it off, sick of the whole situation.

"You're a dick Rafe. Your girlfriend is clearly anorexic as fuck and everyone else can see it. What kind of sick stuff do you say to her to make her wanna do that to herself?" She snapped, much to the obvious dismay of Topper who despite his annoyance knew where the line was with Rafe Cameron - and she had crossed it by a country mile.

"Is this bitch being for real right now?" Rafe scoffed. "Is this fat fucking bitch being for real?"

"Babe you should leave-" Topper started but Georgia continued.

"Fuck you. Y/N deserves someone better than you." She hissed and then turned to Topper. "And don't act like you and Kelce haven't been talking about it either."

As they all continued to bicker and their volume increased, you found yourself waking up again, the view confusing and blurry. You'd never seen everyone from an angle this low down before and it was unfamiliar - you were uncertain of what you were even looking at until you tried to sit up, your vision clearing slightly. You recognised the room but the angle was different, and you recognised the voices around you though you couldn't fully distinguish what they were saying.

Georgia and Topper stepped away and a uniformed man started talking to you, but then a loud ringing noise took over as it had before and you couldn't hear him. You looked to Rafe with confusion, his arms wrapped around you.

"What's happening?" You mumbled, unable to hear your own voice.

He answered but you only saw his lips move. The noise got louder and your vision started to loose sense again. There was a cold metal pressed against your chest and fingers against your neck, your eyes caught sight of a blurry face and then you were being lifted by your boyfriend's familiar arms into a white space. A cold breeze swept against your skin and it was a relief as it had been earlier. Slowly, you started to feel more control return to your body and the ringing noise lessen, though it was replaced by a steady beep.

"Rafe?" You questioned, gripping onto his shirt once you realised what your hands were touching.

"You're alright baby. We're gonna get you to the hospital and see what's up." You could finally make out his voice again and he sounded genuinely shaken. This was not something you'd ever heard from him before.

"I- I don't need to go to the hospital." You stammered, unable to even enforce your own lie as you felt your body sway again. Your head rolled back and a dizzying wave of nausea came over you, one which you had to squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath to condense.

Rafe moved one hand so that it was rubbing your shoulder and held your hand with the other, comfortingly squeezing your fingers. It was then that you realised that you were in the back of an ambulance.

"H-How am I here?"

"You had a seizure and fainted." Rafe answered, and as you gained more consciousness, you realised that he actually seemed kind of... on edge, maybe even annoyed.

Then the ambulance was moving and the paramedic started to fire questions at you, not taking long to get to the hospital. It was all a blur anyway, you were feeling confused and embarrassed and you just wanted to hide from Rafe's disapproving stare. You didn't know what you had done, but you knew that he didn't like it. His hand remained gripped tightly on your leg for the entire ride.

Some hours later and tests had been done. You'd been put onto an IV drip and spent a lot of time sleeping. Rafe wasn't allowed into the doctors office with you, but your mother was. Legally, you could've denied her but you would've never heard the end of it and so you cringed as the doctor told both you and her their diagnosis - that you were severely underweight.

"That you told the nurse you had not eaten for a few days. That you had a seizure that day because of a dangerously low blood sugar. That you showed symptoms of body dysmorphic disorder. That you were going to be recommend to an eating disorder specialist."

She cried, dramatic as mothers can be, and demanded to know why you'd been doing this to yourself. But you denied it, plainly to her face and to the doctor's.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I look after myself completely fine - surely send my blood off for more precise testing before you assume something like that." You said plainly but neither of them were buying it and soon you were walking back out into the hospital corridor, feeling completely sick as you looked at your boyfriend.

He'd been sat waiting the entire time. Your mother had informed you of that. She rushed into his arms, seeming like she loved him more than she loved you sometimes, and he stared at you plainly over the top of her bed, his eyes thin with accusation. You knew that she would give him all the answers before you even had the opportunity to think of a lie.

"Oh- my baby's been starving herself Rafe! Where have you been? How have you not seen this? She's like a tooth pick!" She cried, oblivious to the tightening of Rafe's jaw as she spoke. "The doctor said she's lost over twenty pounds since she last got weighed! He's going to send her to a specialist! Oh- what are we gonna do? My poor baby!"

Rafe patted her back solemnly.

"I know Ms L/N. I've been trying to help her but she hasn't listened. We'll get her back on track though. I'm sure this has served as a warning. I know Y/N is smart enough to learn her lesson." He looked at you blankly before looking to your mum with a defeated, puppy dog expression "But I should've kept a closer eye. I'm sorry for failing you and your daughter. I'll do anything to make it up to you both."

"You've not failed! Honey you could never fail. Y/N is just a bit of a troubled soul, aren't you darling?" Your mum cried, holding Rafe's arm as if he was her own son. She looked at you expectantly, unintentional in her humiliation but brilliant at it.

You wanted to disappear. For all of the fluorescents to flicker off for a second and in that moment of darkness for you to slip away. You hadn't seen your mum in weeks, and your boyfriend was clearly annoyed about something that you'd tried to do for him.

"Who cares what the doctor says?" You thought. "I looked in the mirror and felt beautiful today. That feeling is worth anything. The only reason Rafe is mad is because I fainted and it embarrassed him. I just won't do that again."

"Can we go?" You tutted, scratching awkwardly at your arm.

"My dad's waiting downstairs." Rafe muttered, his calm demeanour being barely controlled as he looked down at you in the ugly lighting.

"How could fucking Topper see it and I couldn't? Does everyone think I'm a bad boyfriend - that I don't feed her or something?... Am I a bad boyfriend? Has she done this because of me?" His mind had thought over and over again.

He'd known you'd been loosing weight, but how did he let it get this far? How had been so wilfully ignorant? How had he actually convinced himself that you weren’t going to make yourself sick again? That it was just some stupid cry for attention? Georgia's words had really gotten under his skin and he was itching to see Topper, needing to shout at and belittle the lad.

Your mum loved Ward even more than she loved Rafe, and so she stood and told him all of the dramatic details whilst crying into his arms for a short while, leaving you and Rafe alone in the back of Ward's truck. As soon as the door had been closed and footsteps had paced away, there was a deep and heavy uncomfortable silence, unlike any you'd ever experienced with him before. You'd expected him to lecture you, to insult you, maybe even to shout at you. Instead he just sat in silence, staring out of the window. You hated it.

Nervously, you began to speak.

"Look- I'm fine Rafe. It's not a big deal-"

"You're a fucking liar, Y/N. Don't even talk to me right now." He hissed.

You stiffened up and turned away from him, suddenly feeling even worse about the entire thing than you thought possible. He'd never spoken to you like that before. Had you really fucked up that badly? You found yourself actually relieved when your mum and Ward got in, their presence snapping Rafe into his scarily charming self.

When Ward pulled up outside of your house and Rafe got out to kiss you goodnight, he said nothing to you - just to your mother.

"I'm gonna look after her better from now on. I promise."

His hand only gently touched your side, not holding you as he usually would. You swallowed nervously and tried to discreetly grab his hand, but he flicked you away and then he was gone.

The night spent with your mother was also torturous - forcing you to finish an entire three course meal in front of her and then lecturing you until she eventually passed out wine drunk. Her words and actions meant nothing anyway as the only thing your mind could focus on was the repulsion that your boyfriend had seemingly started to hold. Was the whole thing really that big of a deal for him to be acting like this?

Meanwhile, the car ride with Ward and Rafe back to the Cameron residence had been just as unpleasant - accusations instantly flying from the fathers mouth that the son didn't care to hear.

"Whatever you've been saying to her to make her do that, it needs to stop. I mean, really, you didn't notice that your girlfriend weighed less than a hundred pounds? When I saw her a month ago she didn't look well and you know what I assumed?"

Rafe didn't answer until Ward loudly repeated "You want to know what I assumed?"

"What did you fucking assume?"

"That she'd been on a fucking cocaine binge with you! And I know that that's not in her character - that's why I like her - but I also know that you have a special skill of being able to ruin people. Especially nice fucking clean people like Y/N."

Rafe scoffed at this and Ward scoffed right back, much more aggressively.

"Your girlfriend had a seizure today. You think thats funny? How did you let her get to that point where she would do that shit to herself? Are you that much of an asshole?"

"I didn't let her do shit." Rafe hissed. "I caught her making herself sick and then fucking fixed that issue- I thought I fixed that issue... It's not my fault that she's been disappearing to Charleston, avoiding me, wearing those stupid fucking nun outfits!" He aggressively jerked his leg forward into the floor of the car, a surge of anger rushing through his body at the thought of how you'd been hiding yourself on purpose.

"I don't care what your excuses are. Whatever you've done to this girl needs to stop. Ms L/N is thinking of having her sent to a specialist hospital if it gets any worse-"

"Woah, woah. You mean like a psych ward?" Rafe interrupted him, his posture suddenly straightening and his demeanour becoming more panicked. "That's crazy, you and I both know Y/N does not belong in one of those places. She's just in a rough patch, girls fucking do this shit. I'll get it sorted it out."

"Well if you want to bring her to midsummers you best get it sorted out fast. And sort yourself out too. I can see that you've not been sober, your skin looks like shit."

Rafe wanted to hiss an insult back at his dad, to defend his honour, but he didn't have the energy and it was pointless anyway. Something about his dad just drained him of all confidence. His mind was replaying all of the worried words your mother had said and the way you'd looked so guilty as she spoke them. Over twenty pounds lost. How could you have done this to yourself? To him? He wondered if maybe in fact he was a bad boyfriend and then quickly became uncomfortable with the guilt of it - choosing to distract himself instead.

In the dim light of his room, he racked up a big slug of a line and inhaled it in one quick swoop. It hit almost instantly; his jaw tightening and his hands sweating. He felt good for a short while, listening to music guilt free, and hyping himself up to go lay a few hits on Topper, but then the high started to fade and so he did another line, bringing with it the paranoia that all drug users hate.

For a while he paced, thinking about what Georgia had said and how bad it had made him look. How bad it had made him feel. His mind raced with a million questions.

"My girlfriend is clearly anorexic and everyone else can see it? Is that true? Have Topper and Kelce talked shit about this with their hoes? What does that bitch know? Has Topper told anyone about the bulimia thing? Does she really think I say stuff to Y/N to make her starve herself? Why would my dad assume that too? Do people think I'm a bad boyfriend? Do they think that she would be better or without me? Does she think that she'd be better off without me?"

That last one halted him in his steps, giving him a twisted feeling in his stomach.

Without another thought he racked up one more and inhaled it, then picked up his jacket and headed outside. He had a choice - to go to yours and demand answers or to go to Topper's and bully him. The latter was the easier option. He needed to distract himself from you. He was too wound up, he couldn't have brought himself to speak to you kindly.

By three AM he was still wound up. He'd had a fight with Topper and Kelce, drank a considerable amount, made up with them, drove to Barry's to pick up a half-ounce and then continued to drink and sniff lines for hours. The distraction worked for a little while, but you were always there on the back of his mind.

[johnnycadesmuse]

˚ ˖ 𓍢ִ໋ party 4 u

— dallas winston x reader

song 𝄞 party 4 u by charlixcx

warnings: alcohol, smoking, swearing, mentions of sex

"oh my gosh, you came!" you shouted over the music, embracing your friend as you welcomed them into your home, which only an hour earlier was empty but was now filled with bodies. "drinks are in there!" you told her, pointing to the kitchen.

you walked along side her, pouring her whatever concoction your friend had helped you make earlier that you were sure was equivalent to acid.

you told her to enjoy the party before walking off to greet others and mingle around. you rarely threw parties, if ever. but it was halloween, so you figured that you might as well— at least, that's what you told everyone who asked. you couldn't tell them the real reason, despite you knew that they knew the real reason, they just didn't wanna bring it up.

you were waiting for him. you had been waiting since the first guest came through the door, watching the entrance in hopes that you'd see him.

you hadn't invited him, hell, you hadn't invited more than half of the people that showed up. but it didn't matter, not to you. it wouldn't matter if the entire town came, or even the entire state of Oklahoma. because in that crowd, you'd only be looking for one person. you only wanted one person to be there. Dallas Winston, Dal as you called him.

he was notorious in town for being dangerous, and many always preached that no one should be within a 10 foot radius of him unless they wanna get in trouble. but you didn't listen to the warning, and you paid the price.

thing is, he was different, different from what others would say about him. he was kind, bold, even a bit chivalrous. when you were in public, he acted nonchalantly with you, wrapping an arm around your waist or kissing your neck— in private, he acted like as if you were the only person in the world. when he kissed you, he did it with so much passion that you would practically melt away. when you would have sex, it was making love, not fucking. sure, at first he was distant and cold and at times you even thought about giving up. but eventually, he warmed up and treated you like his girl, not just some chick he was hooking up with.

but one day, as you waited on the corner of your street, waiting for him to pick you up for a date for your one year anniversary, he didn't show. you tried to call, yet he didn't pick up. you thought that maybe he had gotten hurt. so, you did what any caring girlfriend would do.

as you walked into Bucks, you looked around to see Buck chatting it up with a friend near the bar. "hey Buck, is Dal here?" you asked nervously, to which he didn't say anything but instead pointed to the ceiling, signalling that he was upstairs.

you knocked on his bedroom door, hearing a faint "who is it?"

"it's me baby!" you hollered back excitedly. you could've sword you heard a groan, making your heart drop. you didn't wait for him to answer, but instead barged in to find him on his bed, smoking a cigarette with his eyes closed.

"Dal? what the hell! why didn't you pick me up?"

"what?" he asked confused, clearly having been woken up from his sleep as his eyes were squinting and his lips were somewhat chapped.

"our date?! y'know, the one i've been reminding you of for weeks straight? the one for our one year anniversary!?"

"ah, stop shouting. you're hurting my ears" he groaned, sitting up on his mattress, stumping his cigarette out on his ashtray, the one that you made him during a pottery class.

"I can't believe you" you scolded, tears burning your eyes as you looked at a man you no longer recognised.

you watched as he stared at his feet, not even looking at you once. you stood there, waiting for him to say something else. maybe an apology, or even a simple grunt would do. but nothing, you got nothing at all. it then occurred to you that Dally didn't suddenly change overnight in his sleep. something had clearly happened, and you think you knew exactly what it was.

"who is she?" you asked, your voice breaking as you were a few seconds away from breaking down.

"what?"

"who is she?!" you shouted, walking over to his dresser, throwing clothes out of his drawers in hopes of finding a pair of panties or anything that would indicate that he had been with another body that wasn't yours.

"who is who? the fuck are you doing?" he yelled back, standing up and grabbing your shoulder. you slapped his hand away before moving over to his nightstand, then his mattress, then under his bed, all the while he kept yelling at you to stop. "you ain't gonna find nothin' cus there ain't nobody else!"

"so why are you acting like a dick, huh? I mean you don't even look at me when I walk in here, you didn't come pick me up and don't say that you forgot our date because I know damn well that you didn't because every time I reminded you, you promised me that you wouldn't forget. so what! what is it? did I do something because-"

"I can't be with you anymore!" he shouted, making your heart drop down to the floor. that's when you felt the tears fall, muffled sobs coming from you as you held your face in your hands. he reached out to touch you but you quickly jumped back. "I-... it ain't you."

"yeah fucking right. cause I know damn well it ain't you, it's never you! nothing is ever your fault, is it?!" you shouted. it was true, nothing ever was his fault, at least, according to Dallas.

every time you two argued, the blame would always be pinned on you. you put up with it out of love, always attempting to justify his actions. but now, there was nothing to justify.

after that night, you never saw Dallas. he never called, you never came to Bucks anymore. whenever you saw him in public, you'd cross the street or turn the other way. you couldn't stand the sight of him, because everytime you'd see his beautiful brown eyes and handsome features, you'd desperately want to run into his arms and tell him that it was all okay. but it wasn't, and it never would be.

as you talked some more with some friends by the punch table, you heard a hollering noise over the music that sounded too familiar. one of Dally's friends, Two-Bit Matthews, was known for being loud and obnoxious. after being around him and Dally's gang, you knew his laugh all too well. and if Two-Bit was at your party, you knew he would be too.

you excused yourself, walking through the house in hopes of catching a glimpse of him somewhere. you saw Two-Bit attempting to do some sort of drink on your dining table, yet, no Dallas. maybe he didn't come you thought to yourself.

but as you turned around to go back to the kitchen, that's when you made eye contact with him.

he stood in front of you, frozen. it was as if everyone had stopped and the music had gone silent. you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. he had a look on his face that was full of regret, one that told you everything that he wanted to say but couldn't.

you felt tears rush to your eyes and you turned away, ready to flee the scene. but before you could take one step, Dally grabbed your hand and pulled you through the crowd.

you were confused, but didn't let go. the rush you felt in that moment was nostalgic. it reminded you of the times that you and Dally ran from the cops, or the times that you two almost got caught having sex in the bathroom of a restaurant. you missed that rush, you missed him.

you both ended up outside in the empty backyard, Dally not letting go of your hand. you looked up at him as he looked down at you and into your eyes. he tucked a loose strand behind your ear, smirking slight, making your heart flutter.

you kissed the palm of his hand as it rested on your cheek. it took all of 2 seconds for Dally to pull you in, kissing you passionately underneath the stars of the night sky.

you didn't hear the music from the party, you didn't hear the drunk teenagers hooting and hollering from the front lawn, you just heard Dally's heartbeat as he pulled you up against his chest. he held you tightly, kissing the top of your head as he mumbled "i'm sorry" over and over. "I was so stupid. I was scared. scared that I had managed to keep someone as good as you. I thought that it ought to end soon, that you'd realise that you deserve better than me."

"no, Dallas. I want to be with you, I always have. more than anything." you whispered to him, cupping his face with your hands.

he didn't say anything, kissing you passionately once again before leading you back inside to the party that you threw for him.

@avroravia @r0seb100d @seilahdiaries

[yumegojoshi]

in the quiet night.

reader can’t sleep. neither can satoru. maybe they’ll enjoy each other’s company for a moment.

takes place during gojo’s past, but there’s no specific references to any events.

pairing: satoru gojo & (gender neutral) reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

rating: general

content: student gojo, student reader, spoiler free, comfort

word count: 873

For the past several nights, sleep has eluded you.

You toss and turn throughout the night. Sometimes, you remain still, staring at the ceiling in hopes boredom will whisk you away to your destination: a few solid hours of decent sleep.

On nights like these, your only real solutions are to either stay awake for the whole day or pass out right before you have to wake up. Either option is terrible, but they're the only ones you have.

However, when the loneliness is particularly unbearable, you slip out of your bed and into the dorm halls. Across the hall is Suguru's room, and beside that is Satoru's.

You always find yourself gravitating to Satoru's.

Two soft knocks is all you afford him before you open the door; the late night has never stopped him from coming over unannounced, so why should it stop you? At least you have the decency to knock first.

With the lights off, the entire room is bathed in darkness, save for the small halo of light that emanates from Satoru's handheld. He doesn't spare you a glance as you approach the bed. In fact, the only indication he knows you're there is how he shifts to the side to allow you room. Pulling the covers back, you quickly but quietly slip in next to him.

It's funny. Same exact bed; same sheets, same mattress, same pillows, same blankets. Yet his is miles more comfortable than your own. Despite one of those more comfortable pillows being beneath your head, you find yourself drifting towards Satoru instead. When there's no barrier of Infinity, nor him shoving you off, you rest your weight on him.

You wonder if Satoru is more perceptive than he seems to be when it comes to people and emotions. Or maybe this is just another routine for him. Surely you don't sneak into his room that often?

…Surely?

With a whisper, you ask, "Why are you still awake?" To your annoyance, he doesn't answer right away; you're met with the click-click-click of his fingers tapping away at various buttons.

"Didn't feel like going to bed," he not-answers, shrugging with one shoulder (the one you aren't resting on). "Why are you awake?"

You shrug in return, "I didn't feel like going to bed." 

Neither of you are going to give a real answer.

Satoru gives a mild huff—of amusement or annoyance, you're not completely sure. When you glance up, his expression is unchanging from tired apathy.

"You're going to feel like shit in the morning, y'know." It's not a question, but a statement. One you're well-aware of. At this hour, you'll feel tired whether or not you actually fall asleep. Might as well not stress about it. Even then, you can't help but glance at the clock. Classes in the morning. Training. Missions. You'll have to fit socializing and eating somewhere in there as well, and then…

Augh.

You settle back on his shoulder and switch your focus to the small screen. Your mind registers the colors, but… yeah, you're too tired to actually understand what the hell is going on. You must have sighed because the rhythmic tapping stops for a moment as he looks over at you, your hair brushing against his cheek.

"You can stay if you wanna. Just don't fall asleep like last time; it was a pain dragging you back to your room."

Ah. Last week, you had also visited Satoru in the late night. You meant for it to be a quick visit, a way to kill time, yet you ended up falling asleep in his bed in mere moments only to wake up in your own. For a while, you were convinced you simply dreamt the encounter. He certainly never brought it up until now.

Your determination—or stubbornness, some would call it—shows as you dramatically huff, "I'm not gonna fall asleep." How could you possibly sleep in these conditions? Comfy bed, nice temperature, the warmth of someone you trust next to you… Yeah, no chance you'll fall asleep. You won't let that happen. Despite your own insistence, your eyelids betray you and start to droop. If Satoru notices, he doesn't bother calling you out. The only things you can hear are the tap-tap-tapping and sounds coming from whatever game he's playing. Seriously, what is it?

Worries start to fill your weary head. Maybe you do come over too often. Maybe he doesn't want you here, encroaching on his space during the few hours he's guaranteed privacy. But, every thought trickles away when he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer. 

"Geez, couldn't even last five minutes. You're hopeless," he murmurs, a quiet laugh slipping through. He tries for maybe two seconds to play with one hand before resigning himself to rest alongside you, shutting off the console and setting it down.

The quiet in your room makes it feel like time passes slowly. Every second spent awake is agony, knowing you're missing out on precious sleep. The quiet in Satoru's room also makes it feel like time is passing slowly, but it's more comforting.

You let your droopy eyes shut as one worry lingers: you might get used to this.

Perhaps you already have.

[phillystrega]

To Be Gorgeous, To Be Seen 2/5

Yes the chapter count went up. I accidentally wrote two responses for this weeks prompt. I don’t want to talk about it.

Part One | Part Two on AO3 or below the cut

Buck didn’t fully know what to expect from the LAFD Queer Committee meeting, but he definitely didn’t think they’d spend as much time talking about practical work things as they did. He went in thinking he’d meet a few more people like him, embrace his own identity a bit more, and he ended the night stacking folding chairs and contemplating adding Tommy as his emergency contact to his HR paperwork.

“I don’t know why, I guess I assumed we’d have to get married first,” Buck admitted. And then at Hen’s shark-like grin he quickly added, “not that we’re ready for that. Right now.”

“Right, sure,” Hen said, shaking her head. “Yeah the policy was changed before gay marriage became legal. And you know, some gay people never want to get married, so…”

Buck frowned at that and stopped in his tracks, chairs dangling from each hand. “They don’t?”

Hen smiled that devious smile again and called out to a slender man towards the front of the room who was busy packing up a snack tray. “Hey, Sanchez, give Buck your anti-marriage speech.”

Sanchez looked up from his veggies and rolled his eyes. “Really, Wilson?”

“I just love it so much,” Hen said. “Especially when you gave the ten minute version at Gwen and Mary’s bridal shower.”

“I will never live that down,” Sanchez muttered darkly before turning his attention to Buck and delivering a speech he’d clearly practiced and delivered multiple times. “A marriage is validation of my relationship from a state that has literally never once cared if queer people live or die, why on earth would I want it. To save on taxes? I’m a civil servant, I didn’t get into this for the money. My boyfriend knows how I feel, we tell each other when we sleep with other people and we’re both on Prep. It works for us, and I, for one, don’t trust his taste in rings.”

“Huh,” Buck said. “Uh. Thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Sanchez said and then sighed again. “Look, the best thing about being queer is we don’t have to do what straight people do, we’re allowed to make up our own thing.”

“Yeah, that…” Buck nodded. “I get that.”

Sanchez abandoned his veggie tray entirely at that point and walked over to Buck. “Okay baby gay, where’s your phone?”

Hen started cackling behind them and Buck, not sure what to say and still holding multiple folding chairs in each hand, nodded towards his back pocket. Before he totally knew what was happening Sanchez was reaching in, pulling his phone out, holding it up to Buck’s face to get it to open up and swiping away.

“Wow, no scruff, no grindr, not even a tinder to be found,” Sanchez said, tsking. “Well that’s easily corrected.”

He walked off with Buck’s phone and Buck was left, still holding the folding chairs, not sure exactly what was happening. He turned to Hen, who was still laughing and said, “what?”

“He’ll give it back,” Hen said, waving a hand. “But if you haven’t had some very specific conversations with Tommy, you may wanna delete those later.”

Buck remained confused until he was gifted his phone back by Sanchez, along with a ziploc baggie of crudite, and discovered there’d been five new apps added. Buck smiled, shook his head, put his phone away and forgot all about it until he was at Tommy’s for dinner later.

Buck had connected his phone to Tommy’s bluetooth speakers and was playing some random playlist full of mellow background music while the two of them prepped for dinner when suddenly the music was interrupted by a swooping, chirping noise.

“Don’t know what that was,” Buck said, glancing back at his phone, confused. The confusion grew when he looked at his boyfriend and saw that Tommy was leaning heavily against the kitchen counter, shaking with laughter.

“Evan,” Tommy managed to say finally between giggles. “Did you download grindr?”

“What! No!” Buck looked from Tommy to his phone and back again and suddenly remembered Sanchez. “Well, okay, technically. Sort of. I didn’t download it but someone at the Queer LAFD thing tonight may have…put it on there.”

Tommy laughed again. “It was Mike Sanchez wasn’t it?”

“You know him?”

Tommy shook his head. “Yeah, he’s great. He’s just, you know, a bit of a flirt.”

Evan squinted at Tommy. “Is that, like, polite midwestern talk for ‘he fucks a lot’ or…?”

“Maybe,” Tommy admitted and Evan mentally added it to his ‘Iowa nice to English’ dictionary.

“I was going to delete them,” Buck said quickly. “But then I got distracted double checking I had all the ingredients for this recipe, and, you know…”

“Evan, it’s okay,” Tommy said. “I’m not mad.”

“Okay,” Buck said slowly, squinting at Tommy like this was some kind of weird fake out.

“I mean, we should probably talk about this, but I’m not mad,” Tommy said.

“Do you have grindr on your phone,” Buck asked as it suddenly occurred to him that this could be the case.

“No,” Tommy said definitively. “But I got a little burned out on the whole app experience, I haven’t really gone back in a while.”

“I’ve only tried online dating for straight people but that…also wasn’t great,” Buck offered, shrugging.

“Yeah, gay online dating is…in some ways the same, in other ways, just, not.” Tommy shrugged. “Some people really get something out of it. It helped me a little bit, in the beginning, right after I came out.” Tommy chuckled a little bit and then said, “but in those days I wasn’t doing so much online dating as…online cruising?”

“Got it,” Evan said, nodding. “That was your, uh, casual hook up phase.”

“My phone had so many dick pics in it,” Tommy said, sounding mildly haunted by his past and those dicks and Evan started giggling uncontrollably, he couldn’t help it.

“Yeah, okay, I really…don’t think I need strangers sending me photos of their dicks,” Evan managed to get out between laughs.

“I’m surprised you didn’t look into the app thing,” Tommy admitted with a shrug. “You’ve done so much other research…”

“Well I’m not looking for other dicks, I just wanna see yours,” Buck said. “Wait, I mean–”

“That was so sweet but so weird all at the same time,” Tommy said, grinning. Then he leaned over and turned the oven off, which told Buck this was probably going to be a longer conversation than either of them originally budgeted for. “You know I’d get it, though, right?” And when Buck just stared at him in response Tommy added, “ If you decided you DID want to see some…other dicks?”

“Like…dating?” Buck frowned. They’d already had the talk about being exclusive. Buck swore they were on the same page there, but maybe he was wrong. He began to panic just a little, remembered he was supposed to be preparing fries for dinner and blindly grabbed a potato.

“No,” Tommy said quickly and Buck breathed out a small sigh of relief while bringing his knife down too hard. He’d planned for neatly sized oven fries, but potato wedges would do in a pinch, he thought to himself semi-hysterically.

“I’m not interested in being poly or anything,” Tommy said. “ I just want to date you, but if you ever want to have sex with other people…” Tommy trailed off and shrugged.

Buck laughed awkwardly and wondered how they got here. Next Committee meeting he was throwing crudite at Sanchez’s head. “I, uh. Yeah. I think I get that. I just. I’m enjoying this. With you. And just you. Right now. I don’t super feel the need to, like…bring anyone else into this.”

“Okay,” Tommy said in that tone he got sometimes that suggested Buck had only engaged with half of the conversation. “I feel the same way,” he said firmly, “but I just…I want to make sure you know. If you did ever want to…have some fun. With some other people–”

“Not just dicks, whole people now.”

“–it wouldn’t be a deal breaker,” Tommy finished, and he had his ‘singularly focused’ face on that Buck found so hot in the bedroom and oddly discomfiting now. “Okay?”

Buck sighed, put the knife down on the cutting board, and turned towards his boyfriend. He wasn’t prepared for the earnestness that was evident on Tommy’s face. He looked a little nervous himself, but like he was having this conversation for Buck’s benefit, so Buck knew his options, and suddenly Buck dropped his anxieties about this being some weird trap or prelude to being dumped and actually, properly, considered the idea.

“Okay, so,” Buck said slowly, allowing himself to shift from mild panic to daydreaming mode. “Let’s…say we’re at a club. And some guy comes up. Asks to suck my dick.” He brought his hands up to rest on Tommy’s chest, his fingers idly drifting along the seams of Tommy’s shirt as they curved down his shoulders. “You’d be okay with that.”

Tommy made a show of humming and considering the hypothetical. “This guy.”

“Yeah.”

“He just wants to suck your dick?”

“Yeah,” Buck felt himself go a little breathless at the idea. “Maybe in one of those backrooms or something. One and done.”

Tommy tipped his head forward to rest against Buck’s. “Hmm, could I watch?”

Buck couldn’t control the way his hips tilted up into Tommy’s if he tried. He grinned, a little devilishly. “Maybe.”

“Then yeah, okay.”

“Okay?”

“Again,” Tommy said with a little laugh. “He just wants to suck your dick?”

“Right.”

“Then we’re good.”

Tommy’s hands creeped down into the back pockets of Buck’s jeans and Buck felt himself practically go limp in Tommy’s hold, which Buck would feel mildly embarrassed about if he had enough brain cells to be able to dedicate to feeling anything else right now other than totally overwhelmed, in a good way, by his boyfriend.

“Sometimes sex is just sex and if you wanna have that with other people that’d be okay,” Tommy said before slipping one of his hands out of Buck’s back pocket to press two fingers to Buck’s chin, tilting his head up just a bit so their eyes could meet. The slight tremble of his fingers gave away his nervousness, but he powered through, saying in one breath, “I want to be the one you build a life with.”

Buck wasn’t sure what happened next, but it felt like his whole chest hiccupped in response and he was suddenly breathless. “Oh my god,” he muttered. “Why is that suddenly the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me?”

Tommy laughed again and the best way Buck could think to shut him up was to kiss him.

[freeandiwill]

The Daycare Attendant when you show up to work 🍃High🍃

Unfinished!!! I just spent too much time on this to leave it be tbh. Like barely even started.

You were gonna kill your roommate when this was all over. Assuming you didn’t die by then, which it really felt like you would. They had offered you a small, unassuming edible to end your day off of work last night, completely failing to tell you about that extra 0 on the package. You had relaxedly melted off into sleep…and then woken up absolutely blitzed with paranoia, shift starting in 2 hours. Those two hours felt like a thousand years, feeding yourself handfuls of chocolate chips whilst debating on whether you should, or even could, call in.

You squinted at the sun from the bus stop, trying not to focus on those constant shifts in your standing that made you feel like you were always about to fall. You couldn’t tell if you were more nauseous or hungry. On that cramped bus ride, surrounded primarily by the elderly, you had to stare at the floor to prevent laughing in someone’s face at the slightest hint of eye contact. You were so, goddamn, high. Making it to work felt like entering the first gate of hell.

The PizzaPlex, especially on a Friday afternoon, when was never the most soothing place on earth, but every irritating sensation was amplified by your vulnerable state. The blaring colors and sounds from arcade machines, the wafting scent of pizza and corn syrup, whines and screams from children and adult alike, the varied stickiness of the floor, all overlayed with faint synth music. It was a neon nightmare, the building becoming unfamiliar before your very eyes. You almost cried from the horrid symphony of it all.

But you didn’t. You smiled at guests and tried not to give away your intoxication. You bumped into two cleaning bots before you even made it to the daycare. Your throat burned with all the sobs and giggles you were holding in. You Thanked God when you made it to your station.

The daycare wasn’t any less bright as the main floor, but the lights were slightly softer and the music volume was a tad more reasonable. And the kids, while never completely silent, simply didn’t have it in them to squawk as loudly as their older siblings did. Though now you could only hope that none of those tantrums started.

“Hi Helper!” A little voice said the moment you slid behind your desk. Lilly was standing on her tiptoes to have her chin over the dividing counter, face already stained with what you could only think was jam. She was grinning with nearly all of her teeth left. “I made a pic-ta!”

She slid a multicolor interpretation of a…cat? Rabbit? Unidentifiable big-headed animal with plentiful smears and scribbles on a slightly damp piece of paper. You smiled so big, your cheeks began to cramp. Your stomach twisted, totally charmed and utterly unsettled by her work of art. You suddenly forgot how to do your almost favorite part of your entire job.

“W-Wow!” You started, “That is totally beautiful, honey! Is that your pet?” You were becoming increasingly dizzy. She couldn’t tell, could she?

“No! My daddy’s allergic-“

“Lilly! Do you wanna join this Duck Duck Goose game?”

The little girl squealed and bolted off towards Sun, who sits her down in a circle of equally giddy toddlers. Did he get taller? You don’t remember him being that tall. Was that even possible? Your thoughts were running a mile a minute.

Your breathing is already tense when he walks up to your desk, permanent grin testing the limits. His rays give a fluttery spin. Your organs feel squished within your torso.

“Heyyyy, Friendo! You were two minutes late, rule breaker!” His long fingers tap against the top of your computer. His tone is saccharine sweet, as always. You falter under his teasing and just barely manage a weak laugh, trying not to give away the shivers in your spin. You saw the man bot nearly everyday, considered him a friend even, but only know to you begin to process how scary he can be. “Buuuut, don’t worry! I clocked you in on time! You’re welcome!” He’s utterly chipper, you nearly can’t stand it. You thank him, letting your head rest in your palms before your weight gives in.

And then your worst fear comes true: he notices. “Everything okay there, buddy? Doesn’t seem like it.”

You already made a minor habit of coming into work a little sicker than you probably should have, “Especially considering you are working with children!” Sun gave you a good scolding for that. But this is different. This is an entirely new level of irresponsible. This was unemployment-worthy, possibly even arrest-worthy. Your stomach turned, looking Sun in the expressionless eyes, wondering how well his camera-vision could detect the stoned in your face.

“Uhm, yeah.” You lied, unconvincingly. “Everything’s great.”

He leaned even closer. The entirety of your face heated up. “That’s not pink eye, is it? How did you sleep? Have you hit your head recently?”

“Slept pretty good, actually,” That wasn’t a lie, “My head feels, uh, fine. And I’m pretty sure my eyes are always this color, hehe.”

It eased some of your tensions to crack yourself up, but the wheezing chuckles at something so unfunny didn’t put Sun in any sort of ease. Your head lolled to see past him, scanning the many groups of children amongst the padded floors and jungle gyms. “How long is this playtime?” You asked, “Naps are right after this, right?”

“Yup! Snacktime in an hour then naptime right after that!” Sun was very proud of his perfectly studied and coordinated schedule for the kids. In all fairness, you have heard multiple parents chatting about a significant positive shift in their children after their time at the daycare, so he had to be onto something. “You wanna tell me what’s going on now? It’s noooot very good to keep secrets from friends, ya know!” His tone had deepened, the electronic crackles in his voice more prominent.

You swallowed, noticing how dry your mouth had become. Fuck, did you forget your water bottle? “Maybe later. It’s fine, really.” You were still trying to convince yourself but he took the excuse for now.

“Oookkiiieee-Dokie! See you at lunch!” He spun around and bounded quite gracefully back into his assigned job, “Jason, what did I say about putting things in your mouth?”

You totally hadn’t packed a lunch either, it dawned on you. It seems like the only thing you left your house with was two tied shoes and a dream. And literally anything sounded good right now. This was gonna be a painful shift.

Unknowingly, for the both of you. Because it pained Sun not to dote on you in this condition you found yourself in. Caretaking was apart of his code and his dearest coworker was clearly in desperate need of it. You had cowered when he came to talk to you like he did everyday, jumpier than usual. You seemed to be in a trance when you made your first rounds with the broom, sweeping methodically. He swore he heard you mumbling to yourself as you typed the slowest daily report he’s ever seen. It took everything in him not to prod at you until you fessed up because you were acting so unusual. He’s seen you sick and tired and stressed and sad. He knew what you look liked when not at your best, he had your habits committed to memory by now, taking up an embarrassing amount of his internal storage. But this was entirely different; this version of you was throwing the patterns off completely. Since when did you enjoy counting the floor tiles? Since when did you flinch at moving shadows?

In all honesty, you didn’t look entirely different newborn deer, with how you carefully stumbled and dawdled about. He found the idea absolutely adorable, despite his worries.

For you, the minutes dragged on and you anxiously contemplated how you were going to tell him. Did he even…understand the concept? You know the main floor animatronics had some sort of anti-drug protocol installed thanks to the yearly D.A.R.E-Sponsored show. But Sun and Moon never got involved with any of that stuff. What if he just immediately dialed the police?Weed was slightly legal at best, and who knows the company’s policies surrounding it. Your chest began to tighten.

In a matter of time, Sun had passed out cheese sticks (which were really just repurposed stuffed crusts, a fact nobody was ever supposed to know) and only took a moment to look over the children before his head snapped towards you. That was your cue. Sun wasn’t allowed to leave the children while they ate, choking hazard, so it was your job to come to him. Walking through the playground sets felt incredibly surreal, and he looked like a god amongst the hoards of tiny people.

A few more of them greeted you, their “Helper” as Sun had nicknamed you for them. At the moment, it felt humiliating to be looked up at by their adoring, cherub faces. You tried your best in smiling back, and Sun surely noticed the forced nature of it.

“You’ve been productive today!”

“Oh. Have I really?”

“Heh. No, not at all, but you sure looked busy while doing it!l

He hunches slightly, letting his massive faceplate loom near your shoulder while his gaze doesn’t leave the kids, “Sooo, what’s going on today? You’re acting rather unusual.” At a lower, closer volume his voice is rather hypnotic, commanding. Or maybe that’s the high talking.

You bit your lip as you thought, probably for an unreasonable amount of time. He was in a very inquisitive mood today, which meant Moon was gonna be twice as worse. A nap sounded good too, though not as good as having something to eat.

“Can you, uh, promise not to get mad? Even if it’s in your protocol to?” Your voice is dripping with hesitation.

“Uh oh, have you been breaking the ruuulessss again?”

Your feet suddenly become unsteady and you’re forced to grasp onto his arm for balance. And immediately, he holds you back with a hand on your torso, unwilling to let you collapse in front of the kids. His gangly arms support you like you weigh nothing. His voice box gurgles for a second, “Goodness! Do I need to send you down to first aid?”

He had been monitoring your everything all day. Temperature, heart rate, blood pressure. They all checked out to be relatively normal, with some minor lapses here and there. But even then, you were just totally out of it and Sun just couldn’t stand not knowing what was wrong, what to do about it. Twinges of Fix It kept eating at his circuits, a distracting static he had been trying to regulate for years now and only got worse with every uncontrollable circumstance. Such as this one.

You clung to him, queasy and unsure.

[vampiree-555]

pyramids- Frank Ocean

ft. Chris Sturniolo

cw: established relationship , bf!chris , fem!reader , dom!chris , sub!reader , pet names , praising , use of y/n , smut

chris - orange

you - pink

‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊ ⊹ .₊๋ ‧₊ ˚ ⊹ ࣭ ⭑ . ₊

i dropped off the check at my last table.

"thank ya'll, have a good night." i smiled before walking back to the server station and throwing my apron on the counter while sighing heavily.

i had been a waitress at a local restaurant just a few minutes from my apartment for 3 years now. it wasn't the best pay but i enjoyed the customers and my coworkers.

the night dragged on as i finished all my closing duties. i didnt leave the restaurant until 10 o'clock that night.

i sat in my car and called my boyfriend, Chris. i didnt get to see him today since i worked this morning as well.

he picked up the phone by the second ring. he never left me waiting.

"hey baby." he echoed through the phone. i could hear the smile on his face. "you off yet?"

i pulled out of the parking lot and drove down the dimly lit street. "yeah im leaving now. do you wanna come over?"

it was quiet for a second. i didnt know what he was thinking or why he was being so quiet. after a moment he finally spoke up. "yeah, ill be there in 30 minutes."

i smiled into the phone. "okay, be careful. i love you."

"i love you too baby." the phone hung up right after that.

i unlocked the door to my apartment, my keys jingling against the lock. i could hear my cat on the other side of the door, meowing as loud as he could. i smiled to myself knowing he was excited to see me.

i went inside and closed the door behind me, leaving it unlocked for when Chris got here.

i kneeled down and greeted my cat, Beau as he meowed at me. i poured him some food in his bowl and went into my bedroom, throwing all my stuff on the bed.

i grabbed my phone and quickly texted Chris.

╰┈➤ texting

y/n ; hey the door is unlocked make sure Beau doesnt run out when u get here ill probs be in the bath when u get here

chris🤍 ; ok ill be there in 15

i went into the bathroom that connected to my bedroom and turned on the bath faucet. i was exhausted and wanted a hot bath. i made sure the water was steaming. i lit a couple on candles and kept the big lights off. i used the flame of the candles as my source of light leaving the room in an orange hue. i connected my phone to my speaker and turned on a random playlist.

finally after hours of being on my feet, catering to others all day, i was able to relax. i left my work clothes in a pile on the floor that id have to wash later.

i laid in the warm bath water and closed my eyes, leaning my head back.

im entirely certain that i fell asleep after i hit the water and closed my eyes because just after that i heard my front door open and close.

"where you at babe?" i heard Chris' voice and immediately sat up, staring at the doorway. i smiled to myself. i was so happy i could finally get to spend time with him tonight.

"im in the bath!" i called out to him from my spot. before i knew it i saw him peek around the corner and smile at me.

"hi beautiful." he said with his little smirk. i looked up at him with a big smile. he bent down and pecked my lips.

seeing him really did something to me. especially after having to deal with strangers all day and being stressed out, he made me relaxed and calm.

we both stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. i knew how he felt seeing me in my position, completely naked in the dim light.

i caught him as he bit his lower lip, his eyes lidded but i could sense the lust take over him. "ill wait for you to finish up."

he winked at me before going back into my bedroom. i heard the mattress squeak so i knew he was laying on my bed.

i let out a sigh of contentment and sunk deeper into the bathtub.

it was only a few minutes before i finally released the drain, watching the water slowly sink down into nothing. i wrapped myself in a towel and finished the rest of my routine; washing my face, putting on lotions, and brushing my teeth.

i left the bathroom and walked across my bedroom to my closet. Chris was sprawled out on top of my bed, scrolling on his phone. when he saw me, he turned off his phone and walked up behind me, pressing himself against me.

his hands rested on my hips above the thin towel that was the only barrier between us. his breathing was heavy in my ear. he didnt have to say anything... i knew exactly what he wanted.

"baby..." he spoke softly in my ear, his warm breath hitting my skin that sent a shiver down my spine.

"hm?" i hummed. i rummaged in my clothes looking for pajamas.

"baby." he spoke more sternly in my ear this time. his tone spoke volumes. it was obvious. his hardened dick pressed into my lower back.

his grip on my hips tightened slightly as he turned me around to face him.

he looked at me with hunger in his eyes. like a predator looking at its prey. it was a little frightening but i couldnt lie, it definitely turned me on.

i scanned his face, both of our eyes meeting for a moment before he grabbed my face and pressed our lips together. the kiss started out slow at first but less than a second later it turned into a burning sensual kiss. like we both craved each other. our lips fit together perfectly like a puzzle piece.

we slowly made our way over to the bed. my back hitting the mattress and my towel coming undone.

Chris broke away from the kiss, his eyes wandering across my naked body. his hands roamed freely against my skin but his touch was gentle almost like if he added any more pressure, id crack.

i squirmed under his hands. i was becoming needy and he could tell. he smiled softly at himself and slipped off his shirt. "youre so beautiful y/n." he said it so quietly, almost like he was talking to himself.

he hovered on top of me and lowered his head in between my neck and collarbone, leaving gentle kisses along my skin.

i whined. i was getting impatient as Chris was simply taking his time with me. it was like he was worshipping me. like my body was a temple and he was taking in every moment like it would be the last time he'd ever touch me again.

"Chris please~..." i pleaded to him. he lifted his head to look at me. his eyes held a possessive and dominant expression but he understood exactly what i needed in that moment.

he chuckled when he heard me beg. he pressed his tongue against his teeth and removed his sweatpants in less than a second. he rubbed himself through his underwear before also slipping out of them and throwing them anywhere in the room.

i watched intently as he pumped his fist a few times down his dick before lining himself up with my entrance.

he teased me with the tip. only pushing in slightly before pulling out again. he did this a few times while watching my reaction intensely. i let out a quiet whine while wiggling my hips which ultimately led to him thrusting his hips forward, pushing himself entirely in me.

i let out a loud gasp and my stomach fluttered. his movements started out slow, his hips slowly grinding into mine. my noises came out as soft whimpers but suddenly, Chris started slamming into me. it was like now he was trying to break me after having just touched me like i was a priceless, porcelain doll.

my quiet whimpers turned into loud moans. i cursed under my breathy moans and grabbed at the sheets underneath me. he was hitting all the right spots. he knew my body even better than i did.

"fuck, s'good angel." he grunted. the air was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin and noises from the both of us.

Chris was hardly silent when we ended up in this position. he groaned and praised me even when i wasnt doing anything. just like now. i was simply sitting there and taking all of him but he praised me like a goddess.

his pace would slow and speed up but it felt so amazing just being so close to him. both of us seeing each others most vulnerable sides.

my legs started shaking. i was close to finishing and he could tell. my moans were getting louder and more sloppy.

when he picked up on this, his pace quickened. "m' close~" i barely managed to get out between breaths.

Chris' groans got louder as i tightened around him. "shi- i know baby. just... just hang on." he was struggling to talk now which was a sign he was also reaching his climax.

a few more thrusts, both of us had knots in our stomachs. i couldnt hold on any longer. i released my tension, my liquids dripping down Chris. he quickly pulled out and finished on my abdomen, twitching as he did.

both of us were out of breath and sweating, my legs shaking. Chris placed a gentle kiss on my forehead before flopping down on the bed next to me.

i laid my head on his shoulder, his fingers finding their way into my hair and twirling it around.

"i guess we both need another shower now, hm?" i asked him with a hidden smile. he and i would never be able to keep our hands off each other if we showered together.

"dont tempt me with a good time, y/n." he said with his little smirk.

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a/n: i finally wrote this after saying i would 9 MONTHS AGO. im so sorry LMFAO. anyways i hope yall enjoy this and im gonna try to be more active again! i love yall🤍! also follow my second account @vampire-556

(do yall want a pt 3 of my drvgdealer chris series?🧐)