#im not good with wording my feelings or thoughts
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curtins · 2 days ago
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GREEDY — gojo satoru minors dni
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prologue. → pretty, prodigal, and teasing. how far can you push your former teacher before he snaps? gojo's about this 🤏 close from releasing a hollow purple on the world.
pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader
warnings+. màstúrbation (m.) and rough sèx, creaḿpie. some angst/doubt. angsty love confession before gojo póunds reader into the mattress. incorrect use of reversed curse technique. arguments and stuff. description of injuries. def mean!gojo a bit and he's got vampire tendencies.
reader is of legal age (implied to be 19-20) and gojo is 28 so age gap!romance. obsessed!gojo and popular girl!reader trope. gojo is absolutely a mess in this, and reader is described as wearing short skirts, and wearing makeup.
rather questionable ethics and dynamics (teacher/former student) but rest assured its clear that his feelings are pretty recent. reader has him twirled and whipped around her fingers. reader is also def a baddie and ambiguously bi.
word count. 8.7k words im mad actually. this was meant to be headcanons song inspiration. greedy — tate mcrae
a/n. this is was gonna be from reader's pov but i thought it would be more fun from gojo's 🙂‍↔️
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mp3. i see you eyeing me down, but you'll never know much past my name. or how i'm running this room, but i'm still half your age. yeah, you're looking at me like i'm some sweet escape 😛
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gojo satoru was not a weak man, no. he knew that he was an anomaly of nature, an unstoppable power that could reduce enemies to dust and make entire clans crumble with nothing more than a flick of his wrists.
so how was it, that when it came to you, his resolve was paper-thin?
every time your open gaze met his, every time you brushed past him, every time your presence filled the space around his infinity, gojo felt something inside him unravel. his breath would be caught in his chest, leaving his pulse to quicken and suddenly, all that strength and control would slip through his fingers.
gojo cursed himself for this, you see. he had never been one to lose control, but he was not quite sure when his entire body has started to betray him.
but no, fuck that, and he did his utter best to run his focus back onto the lesson at hand. unfortunately, the lesson at hand was with you. standing in front of him, arms slightly raised, palms out, and raising your brow as boredom passed over your face.
gojo cleared his throat, "your stance is good, but your cursed energy is all over the place. focus, breathe. centre yourself is what i'm saying," he instructed, but the words felt hollow as they passed through his lips.
unfairly, you're weren't the problem. he was. and now this was getting ridiculous. you had graduated not two, three years past? it would have been a disservice to still call you his student, but even as a mentee, you were still under his tutelage. and as recent as this immature infatuation was, this felt wrong.
but now you were frowning, starting to waver and the sharp, staccato tap of your heeled boot punctuated the wooden floor, click, click!
gojo looked to the sky, briefly, if to pray for patience and a calm of some sorts. he stepped forwards towards you, placing a hand on your waist to guide you into a better stance, and trying to ignore the way your skin felt warm underneath his fingers.
focus.
"don't let your body twist like that when you utilise your own cursed energy. keep it straight, balanced," he muttered, adjusting your posture slightly, hand on your spine — the heel of his palm pressing into a dent. a deity from the sky must have struck him with a cursed arrow, for his whole body was on fire.
because there you were, standing right in front of him, so close that gojo could feel the soft heat of your breath, the faint scent of a sweet perfume wafting off your skin, vanilla?
"you're not focused," gojo grimaced, though he wasn't sure if the rebuke was at himself, or at you — whose eyes widened briefly, and gojo tried not to recognise the curiosity and challenge that flashed across your face.
look at how she's staring at me. and gojo felt utterly ridiculous, and exposed, she knows. but instead of pulling away, you shifted ever so slightly towards him, your body arching as the barest brush of your breasts against his forearm had heat pulling through his body.
would you taste as sweet as you smelt? would you lean more into him if he asked?
he cleared his throat, "okay. relax, not every stance or position works for an individual. perhaps, you'll be able to focus better like this," and with his hand still on your waist, he pulled you into a swift spin. one that left your back pressed against the hard planes of the chest, and you facing the other wall.
you hummed, this time not in the way he wanted. your lips were lightly parted, and there was that soft sheen of gloss catching the light, making your lips look impossibly soft. gojo caught himself staring, wandering what it would be like to press his own mouth to yours, and whether you would squeal or moan.
still, if there was anything that gojo was good at, it was deflecting like a champ, "i think you're distracted," he laughed, low and amused, "is something making you lose focus?"
you tilted your head, and gojo didn't miss (nor did his heart or groin) that your gaze flickered to his mouth for the briefest second before meeting his eyes again, feigning innocence, "don't tell me you're underestimating me, sensei. because i'd hate to think you can't keep up?"
gojo bit back a grin at the obvious bait, "careful," brushing strands of white hair that had fallen into his face away, "if you get too cocky, you tend to miss danger. you start to ignore things that should be noticed."
your voice dropped to a droll whisper, eyes glinting, "you think i don't notice things? i'm aware of plenty."
gojo forced himself to focus, to ignore the way that your lashes flutter with unshakable composure. trying to regain control, or some semblance of mind, he started counting each individual lash painted dark with mascara, lingering on the outermost curls that framed your sharp eyes.
after a beat, he forced himself to break eye contact, "alright," he said, stepping back with a casual shrug that he hoped conveyed just how nonchalant he was, "we’ll call it a day here and continue training tomorrow."
"backing out already?" you teased, leaning in just a little, making him tense at the closeness.
gojo chuckled, feigning nonchalance. "for your sake. you may be powerful, but you have to pace yourself."
you shrugged, nodding, "i'm going out anyway this evening," you said, hopping back a step before bending down to gather your things. gojo politely averted his gaze, his heart hammering from your previous proximity, and desperately hoping to avoid a...reaction, that would be quite inconvenient, as wide and loose as his martial pants were. like a fuckin' school boy with a crush. gross.
but as you slung your pastel bag over your shoulder and straightened up, he couldn't help a quick glance, catching the small, coy glimmer in your eyes as you turned to leave.
gojo sighed, pulling up his blindfold once more, "have fun," he half-heartedly offered, but you were already out the door.
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the corridors were now empty, the clang of metal and chatter now silent, replaced with a quiet hum of the air conditioning. gojo wiped his face with the towel wrapped around his neck, the damp fabric clinging to his skin and the muscles in his arms and chest still warm from the intensity of training. his arms and chest glistened, the muscles warm and taut as he stretched, rolling his shoulders back with a low groan. exhaustion settled into him like a weight, each movement of his tired, bare torso slow and deliberate.
"oh, you're still here, sensei?"
gojo's eyes snapped open, drawn to the sound of your inquisitive voice. you stood in the doorway, framed by the dim light from the hallway, and he immediately felt a rush of heat flood his chest.
well, fuck, now his mouth was dry. clearly, your previous iteration of 'going out' was a bit more glamorous than you had led on, and he was certain his wandering eyes betrayed him as it flickered over your figure. it took a titan's strength to keep his eyes from trailing down your long legs, the way your dress hugged the swell of your chest, or over your glistening neck. there was a faint shimmer, a glitter of some sort? it coated your skin, and gojo wanted to lick it off with his tongue.
what? no. who said that?
he swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his composure.
you scowled at his reaction, clearly mistaking his silence for distaste. "what? i did say i was going somewhere," you retorted, your tone sharp but amused. "i’m more than allowed to leave the campus grounds.”
"of course,” he replied, voice outstandingly steady but his mind still trailing after every curve, every detail that made you look...well...dangerous in the best way, "don't let me stop you. who's the lucky guy?"
you arched a brow, folding your arms over your chest, and now, gojo really did have to look away and pretend that he was busy with retying a dark piece of cloth over his eyes, "who said it was a guy?"
gojo thickly swallowed, wondering if he'd just made a colossal blunder with no return, "that's not what i meant." the words 'my bad' stuck in his throat as you laughed and sighed.
"joking, sorry. it's a guy, this time." now you were fiddling with your long nails, with a satisfying clack as they ran across each other.
"i hope he shows you a great time then," he offered, half-hearted, blasé.
you took a step into the room, and gojo didn't even need six eyes to know that your eyes were raking over his chest, "i'm sure he will," all sweetness and sugar, "i've been training so hard, i deserve it, don't i?"
the words hit him harder than he expected, and he had to remind himself — she's not yours, satoru. but that didn't stop the gruff irritation bubbling up.
"a real man should be taking you out on a date like this,” he said, his voice a bit too rough for his liking. "not some guy who’s probably just looking for a good time."
you scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. "are you saying that there's someone else out there who can do a better job?" your tone was playful, but there was a challenge in it — an edge that made his heart skip once more, "sadly, there just aren't many who've handled me well."
he ignored your immature, faux pout, and ran a hand through damp, icy hair — ignoring how his temper flared, rearing its ugly head.
was this all on purpose? to toy with him?
"you want to be handled, sweetheart?" gojo's voice dropped a little lower, indulging your teasing, "i've seen you lose focus easily, you could easily break."
your lips creased up, painted a tempting shade of dried-blood red (what the fuck was wrong with him? was he now just a horny vampire?) as you purred, "i'd need some help testing out that theory." your expression was open just enough for him to see the tiniest flicker of something in your eyes — something that told him you were enjoying this far more than you should.
an invitation of sorts, he wondered. did you want him to move? to make a move? it wasn’t a secret that you had always been a popular student practically a legend, rumours swirling around you like wildfire — whispers of broken hearts and sweetened smiles that could captivate anyone in your path. he had never paid attention of course, gossip always ran wild among students and he discouraged such whispers of who-did-what, for a grade 1 curse would never indulge such behaviour before they would get torn to shreds.
and even now, long after graduation as you worked around your old alma mater, men and women — everyone swooned at the chance to speak with you, and yet, here you were, playing this dangerous game with him.
gojo scowled, trying to push past the desire building inside him, the urge to have you underneath him, right on this mat in the training room. "well, don’t hang around too long," he said, his tone sharp as a blade. "i’m sure your date is waiting. go have a good time."
invitation declined. the morally right thing to do. right?
he didn’t need to look to see the small sneer that curled at the corner of your lips, or the way it turned into a fleeting expression of annoyance. he could hear the click of your heels echo down the hallway as you sashayed out.
what the everlasting fuck was wrong with him?
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lo and behold, the great gojo satoru often found himself alone in his own private rooms. for 'the strongest' rarely had time to accommodate some other forms of company.
and frankly, he had no desire to do so now regardless. not when the echoes of your clicking heels still reverberated in his mind. the silence that echoed around him was heavy, suffocating and he was sure he looked erratic.
gojo ran a hand over his face, trying to shake the thought of you. but it was useless. his body was still on fire, the heat of jealousy smouldering in his chest, coiling in his gut like something alive, something dangerous. he had walked to the nearest chair and collapsed into it, his legs splayed wide apart as his shoulders slumped under the soft, amber glow of the setting sun that streamed through the windows. the sorcerer let his head fall back against the chair, eyes closed.
how absolutely ridiculous, he thought, running his fingers through his tousled hair. no, he just couldn't stop it. couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted you. wanted you to want him too. and now, with the way you’d left, with that knowing smile on your lips, all he could imagine was the man you were with now, the man who’d be holding the door open for you, who’d be pulling out your chair, whoever the hell he was.
maybe even a casual, non-sorcerer. some random guy that you had indulged because he was no threat. but he wouldn't be able to touch you, not in the way that you demanded. the man would laugh at your jokes, brush his hand against yours, but wouldn't be able to let a real smile bubble from your lips like satoru could.
and what would that man do next?
would he try to take you back to his place? some small poorly-lit apartment where he'd try to kiss you, to claim your lips without even pulling away for air. would you kiss him back, curling into his frame?
before gojo's even registered what he's doing, his own hand has found his hard cock. despite the tattle of assistance, and dreamy-eyed mongers, pleasure is rare for him. relief, even less so. his schedule just doesn't allow it, and so he oft find himself chasing some distant contentment like this, alone in his rooms.
but he squeezes at the wide hilt, at his base, pulling his hands up, upwards as his brows furrow under blindfold, and he tugs the offending fabric off, away from him, as laden balls smack against his wrist.
maybe the man would then trail his lips down your neck, maybe he'd try to slowly sink his teeth into delicate flesh, leaving blooming purple marks that wouldn't fade, not when gojo saw you tomorrow.
he's running his curled hand up towards the fat mushroom tip, almost glowing pink with heat and pre-cum that's leaving his hand slicked with faint moisture, "shit, that's it."
then what? he can imagine your teasing smile as you decide to take your pleasure as you see fit. how you'd suddenly push this faceless man off, and move so you're straddling him, letting his hands wander around the curve of your hips, digging into plush flesh.
now he's starting to pant, open-mouthed, "ah - fuck! wish i had you here, right here." gojo must be a madman, breathing out to the empty, open air.
but in his mind's eye, you're reaching behind your back to undo the zipper on your outstandingly tight dress, giving the faceless man a coy smile as you push the fabric of your dress down, letting your plentiful tits spill out and against the man's chest.
his wrist is moving faster now, and there's a cramp starting to build up as he pistons his hand over his stretched shaft, and one arm is thrown over his face — the soft hairs on his thick forearm tickling his face as he tries not to gasp or whine too loudly, but he's bucking his ups now, pretending that it's not his hand that he's spilling into, but your tight cunt. and later, he shudders and tenses up, with apologies whispered into the air, "look, look - shit, i'm sorry - i'm sorry. couldn't help it, fuck." and gojo's bitten his lips so hard that he's certain he's drawn blood, vibrant red blooming on pale, creamy skin.
and a lamp had exploded as he came. damn, he'd have to replace that.
you don't deserve someone like him, no. not when he's sitting here, absolutely filthy with thick, white seed entirely over his tense abdominal muscles and stiff hand. not when he's trying to catch his breath after imagining how snug your pussy would feel around him, and how you'd beg for him to give it to you harder.
you didn't deserve someone so messed up with guilt, with mistakes, with the kind of weight that made him too much for anyone, let alone someone like you. didn't you deserve better than a tortured man who couldn't control himself, better than an overzealous mentor who was supposed to keep his distance, to do what was right.
but that didn’t stop his thoughts from swirling, as he separated damp, thick thighs from the smooth surface of the chair, reaching for a tissue. he couldn’t help it. and it made him feel like a damn fool.
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the meeting room buzzed with tension, voices rising in sharp, clipped exchanges — some angry, some demanding and others clueless and questioning. gojo had woken up in a foul mood that morning, with some ill-gotten storm brewing beneath his chest. perhaps it was the thoughts of you that lingered from the night before, a gnawing jealously that left him feeling too tight in the stiffness of the uniform dress pants.
but he had forced himself to be dragged through this meeting, plastering a snarky light-hearted grin over his face as he leaned against the wall, letting the higher-ups argue themselves into oblivion.
amidst the storm of words, gojo's focus was nowhere near the mission being discussed. no, his attention was fixated entirely on you. you stood at the far end of the table, eyes flashing with ire as you tore into some pompous old fool who’d dared question your power. the others in the room shifted uncomfortably, deferring to you, as they often did, despite your youth. you had that rare combination of presence and bite that made people recoil back when you sunk your teeth into them, and this was not a knot gojo was interested in unraveling.
kojiro, one of the bumbling administrators, had turned his babbling attention to gojo, "you're still planning to face that curse head-on, gojo-san?" the poor man is wringing his hands at gojo's flat look (made all the more unreadable through a blindfold, satoru would wager), "don't you think it would be well - unwise? instead of expending your time and energy on one cursed spirit, you could handle five lesser ones. efficiency, you see."
gojo's gaze briefly flickers back to you, standing with your arms crossed as one hand fiddles with the end of your braid as your petal-pink lips scowl at some other official with words that don't fit his stature. your other hands keeps reaching around your neck, adjusting a plaid scarf over and over, like you're desparate to hide something under the fabric . well, fuck that.
"i'm aware of the risks," gojo turns his attention back to the matter, "but no one here has time for hesitation. if the curse is special grade, don't you at least think that delaying with lead to more destruction?"
"is it really the cursed spirit you’re worried about, takumi-san?" you asked, your voice low, the kind of voice that could make someone forget their own name.
gojo's gaze snapped to you from under the blindfold, but you weren’t looking at him, not even speaking at him. instead, you were locking eyes with one of the other sorcerers — takumi, a grade two with a shaggy mop of golden hair, one who had been a student alongside you and hardly subtle in his admiration for you.
gojo tries to hide a scoff at how takumi's eyes are wandering over you, ignoring the newpapers that have been flattened on the meeting table, with bold inked letters reading doom-portents such as 'unexplained explosion, 4 dead and 12 injured."
time and place, man.
"you don't think i can handle this mission. if you're worried about me, just say so," takumi's now leaning into you, even as gojo tries to train his ear on kojiro's economic-obsessed babble instead.
gojo can see your eyes flicker to the dastardly newspapers as well, clearly curling your lips at the dour news and takami's disastrous attempt at getting his hands under your skirt. but he also knows that sharp glint in your eyes, the one when you toy with those around you, to pull them in without ever committing to anything. clearly, you've decided to indulge this game.
"takumi," and you draw out the younger man's name, "shouldn't you bring more strength to the table? of course, i'm worried about a friend getting hurt. but even if you were stronger, or the strongest, a special grade curse could do some real damage."
and your eyes have flicked right towards gojo, raking over his frame leaning against the pale cream walls. he's glad for the blindfold, so you can't see how he scowls and furrows his thin brows at you, at your blatant hopes for a reaction from him. were you so unobservant that you did not know how much you bothered him?
the pointed sharpness in your words made takumi pause, and for just a moment, gojo could see the man’s grin falter. it was clear that you weren’t impressed by his attention, you had no need for his slimy attempts.
there was no mistake about it — this wasn’t just a flirtation. this was a game you played, and gojo was not only aware of it; he was caught in it. he tries not to feel irrationally angry, fuck, so much of his life revolves around his work, his job and now he can't even do that properly without feeling like you're using your long nails to dangle something in front of him, wanting to snap his teeth out and snatch it.
so you wanted him to see this. you wanted to claim that you could unravel the strongest sorcerer from the heavens to the earth below, to make him lose his composure. gojo feels as if there is crackling ozone in the air, and wonders dimly if the weather forecast predicted a rain storm for later today.
takumi, sensing the shift, finally backed off with a huff, but not before giving all around him a lingering look, as if it was their fault that you weren't interested.
"enough distractions," kojiro's interjected, raking a finger through a beard streaked with gray, and he's shooting a pointed look at you, snapping rose-pink gum, and takumi, shuffling with his hands in his pockets. "we're here to discuss the mission, not flirt." and then, he's off mumbling something about how this was why he hated having younger sorcerers join the meeting rooms.
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his ire only grew. gojo stood with his back against the wall, outside the meeting room, once everyone had left with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. you stood in front of him, your eyes flashing with anger, your chest rising and falling with each sharp breath.
"absolutely not," gojo stood his ground firmly, "no-one will let you go on this mission."
you stomped on the floor, once as your heels snapped an echo, "they will if you say so."
gojo stuffs his hands in his pockets, "who said that i would also allow you?"
you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest, mimicking his previous stance but with a clear defiance in your posture. "and why the hell not? i'm more than capable of handling it. it's my fucking choice, and how can extra help hurt?"
"enough!" gojo snapped, feeling a tense pain in between his eyes, "it's too dangerous. and you're too young -"
"too young!" you've interrupted him, "i'm not some helpless child, sensei. i'm a grade 1 sorcerer! one of the best, i don't need to be treated like i can't handle a mission."
"grade 1. not special-grade."
his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. gojo could see the fury in your eyes, but there was something else there, something deeper, a vulnerability that he had seen before in students, some desire to prove themselves and be heaped with praise. he knew you were good, better than most — hell, better than many of the adults he’d seen. but this cursed spirit was unlike anything you’d faced before. and yet, here you were, challenging him, pushing him, daring him to stop you.
"you don’t get it," he muttered, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. "you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. you're too reckless."
"reckless!" now you had taken a step towards him, narrowing the space between you both. your eyes were fierce now, but there was something else in them — a spark of hurt that made his chest tighten, and gojo began to wander where this would start spiral. "i’m not reckless. i know exactly what i’m doing. the only reckless thing here is you thinking you have the right to control my every move."
"i'm the one in charge here," he said, his voice hoarse, the words coming out sharper than he intended. "and i'm telling you now, you’re not going. you’re not ready for this. don't involve the higher-ups in this."
you were so close now, just inches apart. his eyes flicked to your lips, with the arch of a blooming flower kissed by the sun, for a brief moment, and then back up to your face, where anger and frustration mixed with something else — a challenge.
"maybe that’s the problem," you said, your voice quieter now, but still holding an edge. "you think i'm still some child who needs you to tell me what to do. maybe you just don’t want me to outshine you."
the words are ridiculous, and he can see by the mild quiver as your throat bobs that you don't mean what you say. it takes a rare type of courage to tell the first person in four hundred years to be born with limitless and six eyes, that he could be outshined. but satoru doesn't say a word to rebuke your obvious and false bait.
your body is so close now that gojo could feel the heat of your skin, your breath brushing against his. he could smell the faint sweetness of vanilla again in the air mingled with fresh, crisp apples, could see the subtle shine of your lip gloss catching the light. it was a testament to his spirit, he thinks, that he did not lean in straight away and touch his mouth to yours in this scenario that certainly did not warrant it.
"you want me to stop you that badly?" he hissed, his voice a mix of frustration and something darker, that had not yet snapped. "is that what this is? a game? a way for you to get my attention? to see how far you can push me before i do snap?"
now he's got your tongue, and your expression has flickered for a brief moment before schooling into an impassive mask, and gojo briefly wanders if he's crossed an awful line and misinterpreted everything. if they're gonna stick a white dunce hat on his head and parade him through the streets of outer tokyo for being an assuming fool.
but then you've stepped even closer, your breath coming faster, the weight of your chest almost pressed against his, and gojo doesn't move and he's briefly aware that he's let his infinity down.
"partly, you know it's not just about you though. i do want to go on this mission, but -" you tilt your head and look right up at him, and the older man's head starts to reel from the fact that he was right all along, "i do want to see how far you can go before you snap."
his heart pounded, and for a moment, everything went still. all the tension, all the heat, the anger, and the desire — everything seemed to converge in the space between you. gojo's hand twitched, aching to touch you, but he held himself back, his muscles straining with the effort.
"stop,” he rasped, barely able to get the word out. "you don’t know what you’re doing, or what you're asking for."
he's never felt quite like this before, breathless as if the air has been punched out of his lungs. all gojo could think was how much he wanted to pull you closer, to kiss you until there was nothing left between you.
but he couldn’t.
he puts his hands on your shoulders, fingers digging into the expensive fabric of your top, and gently pushes you away.
"my decision is final. don't make this harder than this, you're forbidden from the mission."
how sick and twisted, that you've fled with embarrassed tears pricking at your eyes, and he's stuck with a raging erection.
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well, he had seen worse. but it didn't make this curse any less vicious. it was ancient, he could presume, and maddening. its cursed energy was warping the night air like a violent storm. but again, not the worst thing that he had encountered in his twenty-eight years, and with the right timing, he'd been able to calculate every strike and counter.
but then he saw you.
at first, he thought it was a blur — a trick of the light. but then, there you were, standing at the edge of the pavement, your figure framed by the chaotic crackle of cursed energy. fuck your stubborn nature.
this is not what is meant to happen. gojo's heart has skipped a beat, and he's not sure what he's more furious with. you, for defying his concern for your safety. or himself, for getting so distracted in. a battle.
"what the fuck is wrong with you?"
yes, he knows you're good. good enough to move with precision against a special-grade curse, your stance instantly and suspiciously better than the other day in the training rooms. it's only through his six eyes that gojo has been able to keep a track of your movements as your jujutsu is able to dodge the creature's brutal force.
impressive. but reckless.
and that never lasts.
you had moved to cast your own cursed technique, but the curse was intelligent enough to anticipate it. with a sudden lash of its tail, the creature swung its power straight at you, knocking you off balance. you stumbled, your footing lost, and before you could react, a flash of dark energy slicing across your shoulder.
a scream had torn from your lips as you fell to the ground, blood spurting from the deep cut.
and briefly, just for a flicker of time, gojo sees a dark-haired man in violet robes leaning against a brick wall, with his shoulder torn off, 'at least curse me one last time.'
blood rushing in his ears, before he even realised it, he was on top of you, his body hovering over yours, his jujutsu flaring as he shoved the cursed spirit back with a brutal force that made the earth tremble, an exorcism that will not take long. he kneeled beside you, his breath ragged, eyes locked on the wound on your shoulder. the blood was already soaking your clothes, darkening the fabric as you winced, your breath shallow and unsteady.
"you —” gojo isn't sure if his hand isn't shaking from how irate he is, "what the hell were you thinking? fuck, don't move."
your eyes were unfocused for a moment, but when they snapped to him, there was defiance there — even in this moment (get a grip!), as you gritted your teeth against the pain.
"save it, it's fine," you spat, your voice weak but vexed, "that bitch is still there."
"what did i tell you! what did i say would happen?" he cursed under his breath, focusing his reversed cursed technique as he tried to heal you, but the moment felt like an eternity as bright red blood moved too fast for him to seize it.
an assassin's blade in his throat, his arteries giving way and bubbling out and up.
now you don't answer, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. gojo's gaze darted to the cursed spirit, which was now advancing again, enraged by the interruption.
it won’t touch you again.
he stood, pulling you away from him, your body slumping slightly out of his arms. he could feel the heat of your blood soaking through his sleeve, but he had no time to dwell on it. the curse roared in fury, and gojo's infinity flared up around him again, a shield of pure energy blocking its path.
"stay down,” he growled, and all he received was a weak, "fuck, you think that's funny?"
it's only later when he's pulling you back up, that he realises that his reversed cursed energy has done enough to stem the bleeding, but not enough to leave you unharmed as your breath is shallow, your face taking on a more sickly pallor.
"don’t you ever — ever —do that again," he snarled, his voice raw and he wonders when something (or someone) has ever undone him so much. but the anger in his voice doesn't carry to his touch as he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, tracing the lines of your jaw.
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the sterile walls of your room did nothing to soften the tension in gojo's chest as he stood by your bed, his eyes tracing the curve of your sullen form beneath the sheets. your shoulder was bandaged, with red seeping slowly through the white strips.
"you really are unbelievable," he snapped, his voice sharp as he paced around the room, every step heavy with frustration. "i told you it was too dangerous. i told you not to fucking go."
you lay there, your eyes half-closed, as though you weren’t even listening, but the twitching frown on your lips is sign enough that you're not as sorry. his fingers flexed at his sides, itching to do something — anything — to release the tension building in him.
"are you even listening to me?" he know he sounds bitter, over-reactionary, angry as he moved towards the edge of your bed.
you blinked slowly, your gaze still infuriatingly calm, "i'm fine, now. save the lecture."
he doesn't want to start sputtering so he settles for crossing his arms over his chest, but your voice breaks the silence again.
"you know i want to be a special grade sorcerer, right?"
gojo only looks down, not wanting to indulge an excuse and he studies the tight grip of his knuckles on his slender fingers, "well, i don't know why. the pay isn't that good." it's a weak attempt at a joke, but you're smiling.
"i was told i could only become one if i was the one to exorcise that special grade."
"by who? the higher-ups?" and you nod, wincing as you do.
what a fucking surprise. the way that the jujutsu world works is no surprise to gojo by now, having been surrounded by it his entire life. but the harshness of their reality still shocks him, old and doddering officials who cling to their silk robes are prone to sending out younger sorcerers (those who are still green, barely out of school) to do their dirty work for them, and the cemetery outside of jujutsu tech is ever growing.
he ground his teeth together, his chest tightening as he stared down at you. the bandages, the damp skin, the stillness of your body — it made him want to tear something apart. "fine! if they were giving you a hard time, why didn't you just come to me then?" he repeated harshly.
"would you go ask someone to help you, for something like this? if you were asked to prove yourself?"
gojo runs his tongue behind his teeth, "i'm the strongest, princess. i don't need to ask for help."
you groan, turning your head away from him, but a faint smile dances upon your lips.
he inhales sharply, his fingers digging into the edge of the bed. "you think this is a joke?"
"all four limbs are attached and i'm living and breathing. okay, so fine. my bad. i won't do it again. will you stop snapping at me now, at everything -" and gojo wonders if there's really some hurt colouring your voice, "what's going on?"
the words slip out, rough and unrestrained. "what’s going on is that you’re driving me insane. you act like this doesn’t matter, like i can just stand by and let you throw yourself into danger like it’s nothing — like you don’t matter — but you do. you do matter."
his chest was heaving now, his hands shaking as he reached out and grabbed your wrist. his thumb brushed over your pulse, the tiny fluttering beneath your skin driving him wild. "i can’t — i can’t just stand there and watch you get hurt," he continued, his voice hoarse. "you don’t get to do whatever you want without consequences, damn it. you don’t get to make me feel this way, and then pretend like it doesn’t matter."
for a moment, there was silence. gojo's pulse was hammering in his ears, his body coiled with the intensity of everything he was trying to say. everything he was trying not to say. everything he wanted to act upon.
and then, with a slow, almost lazy smile, you turned towards him, "i didn't know the great gojo satoru was like this. who would have thought?"
his breath hitched in his throat. gojo wanted to say something, to snap at you again, to maintain that distance — but the truth was that the distance between the two of you had disappeared these past few weeks. his chest tightened, his hands trembling as they slid to your face, fingers tracing the line of your jaw, and he relished how your facade almost cracked and you lightly shivered.
at least, he hoped you were shivering because of his touch. and not, like, a fever building up from your injuries.
fuck it.
and then, before he could stop himself, gojo was leaning down, his lips crashing into yours with all the force he could muster, desparate and hungry and that frustration and fear that he had been holding onto. his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you towards him with a force that made your breath catch, as you responded with a soft gasp.
had he misstepped? no, for you kissed him back, tentatively at first, as if you were testing the waters, but then building up to a sudden urgency that mirrored his own. your hands slid to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pushed yourself closer to him, before crying out.
"ah! fuck, my shoulder."
small beads of blood surfaced where your collarbone met your shoulder, each one glistening like tiny rubies against your warm skin. they gathered slowly, delicate droplets that clung to you before tracing faint, uneven lines downward. the red stood out, vivid and fresh, dotting your skin in a stark, almost mesmorising gojo as they welled up and began to trick in thin, crimson trails.
"stay still," gojo rasped, his voice low and rough as he leaned in, pressing closer. his mouth met the fresh blood pooling on your skin, tongue tracing over the small rivulets that had seeped from beneath the bandage.
he lingered, almost savouring the taste, his eyes darkening as the sharp tang of iron lingered on his tongue, smacking his lips slightly as he drew back, gaze fixed intently on you, on your heavy breathing as he stole away another kiss from you.
gojo's lips left yours briefly, his breath ragged as he stared down at you, his eyes wild underneath the blindfold, gasping as your nails reached up to hook the fabric down so his hair loosened, falling around his face.
you were staring back at him, breathless and wide-eyed, and in that moment, gojo knew — he couldn’t stay away from you. no matter how much he tried.
your lips were soft, so soft, but there was fire behind the way you kissed him back, your hands landing on his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. he groaned, deep in his throat, and his fingers threaded into your hair, pulling you closer.
his mouth moved urgently over yours as he shifted to stand beside the bed, his body hovering over you, every muscle tense, straining with the desire that he had tried so hard to ignore. gojo just couldn't think about anything else.
and your lips broke apart only briefly, and you let out a soft laugh, that damn, dangerous laugh of yours. "you're greedy, you know that."
his chest heaved, and his heart pounded in his ears, and blood was now pounding to his nether regions. he wasn’t sure if it was the previous anger or the ache between his ribs, but he couldn’t stop himself as he threaded his fingers through your soft hair, "i am greedy. greedy for you. only you - mmph! shit!"
you had run your long, painted nails (with the little painted charms on the end) down his neck before pressing them, hard enough to cause a sharp sting.
"you wanted to put me through hell," he whispered harshly, and his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, "until i realised i liked it. until i realised i wanted you, all of you."
his hands moved down to your waist, squeezing gently as his lips found the tender spot beneath your ear, trailing kisses there, letting his teeth sink in, to see small bruises appear. gojo's breath was ragged as he fought to keep control, and something deeper inside of him roared with the need to claim you completely.
"you’re mine," he growled against your skin, the words hot and possessive. "i don't care what happens. you’re mine now."
you tilted your head, still smiling, but this time there was something different in your eyes — something that burned with the same intensity. "if i'm yours, what are you going to do about it? hmm, satoru?"
and that final thread, that last remnant of honour that he had been nurturing and holding onto, snapped.
"is this what you want, princess?" he draws out the nickname, letting it roll off his tongue, as you suddenly inhale sharply. his hands are all over you now, large hands exploring and kneading at your torso, and before he can even let you blink, they're under your top.
he's pressing his hot mouth to your sternum, wet and open-mouthed, and he wonders what sort of effect you have on him. what force in the world leave him panting like this, desparate as his hands find their way behind your back, to unclip whatever's holding your tits in place — just so he can reach back and run his palms over your hard nipples, flicking them and rolling them in between his fingers.
and faintly, in the back of his mind, he's aware that his reversed cursed technique must be working overtime, because suddenly you're rolling forward into him with no care in the world for your previously injured shoulder, as your own hands trail down the front of body, right over his bulge.
but he slaps your hand away, pressing you flat against the mattress, "fuck, not yet. you think i'm just going to let you get away with all this," and as you mewl a soft yes, followed by a please, he rolls his eyes, "wait. behave and i'll give you what you want."
and then, softer, "need to make sure you're ready first."
his arms are caging both sides of your head, and he's got one hand on the headboard (although, you will marvel at the burnt imprint that he's left, later) and the other is tearing your top off, just so he can lean down and let his canines press into the soft fat of your chest, so he can slip a pointed nipple into his mouth and tug it, ever so gently.
but gojo needs to continue lower, and his hand squeezes at the waistband of your short skirt, snapping the elastic twice as you heave your bare chest, "please, please, satoru!"
it's heaven down here for him, and gojo's dizzy at how outstandingly wet you are, with just a single swipe of his fingers in the soft, damp fabric of your underwear.
your clear, sticky arousal clung to his fingers, stretching in thin, glistening threads as he spread your thighs apart, knocking your knees to either side so he could slot himself in between them. your slick shimmered slightly under the light, translucent and tacky and he just couldn't help himself, bringing them up to his mouth to slowly taste.
"shit, princess. you taste so good, can't believe this is what i've been missing out on."
he's playing an instrument, he thinks. gliding his fingers along sodden folds, twirling his index finger past a thick wad of skin and pressing right over your clit in hot, tight circles that have you bucking your hips, "hnngh, right - ah, right there 'toru!"
'toru.
as a reward, he plunges his middle finger straight into your gaping heat, your tight wall of ringed muscles that had been fluttering in light pulses for his attention. fuck, he almost reaches his own climax by feeling how you squirm and writhe, moan and mewl as he starts pushing his finger in, and then out.
in, and then out. in, once more. and out, again. and then, another finger.
his fingers sank into your soft, damp pussy — which yielded easily enough with a soft pssh! as the digits pressed in. gojo pulled his hand back out from your thighs, enjoying the tight resistance and suction as your cunt has resisted being empty once more, leaving a cool moistness on his skin.
but now your hands gently cup his face, and he isn't sure how to not crumble with how you look at him, eyes wide and glossy, "wan' more, want your cock, 'toru."
now, gojo feels as though he's truly ascended, gone onto some higher plane of existence. because how can he resist when your hands are weakly pawing at his belt, at his waistband and he's letting you pull his thick shaft out.
it's hot, and already weeping angry tears of pre-cum, and he just loves how your eyes widen at the sheer size and girth.
"yeah, princess was sooo brave earlier, wasn't she? wanted my cock, ah! shit - did she?" and he's letting the wide tip lay heavy against your clit, knocking it once, and then twice, through your heavenly folds.
you've reached a leg up, and around his waist, pulling him closer and gojo has to pierce his lip with his teeth to not let out a gutteral groan from his cock sliding through the your folds, "i don't - don't care, i really don't fucking care if it's too big. just put it in now, m' so wet, i'm wet enough."
your babble is endearing, and he marvels at how easily he has you cock-drunk without even being in you right now. he jostles further, until the tip is right at your flittering entrance, pressing forward and slipping through the heated, slick gummy texture in a way that has the strongest's head spinning.
"easy, princess. oh fuck, you're too tight. way too tight, i'm gonna -" and gojo inhales, steadying himself, as the wet heat enveloped him as he moved, each slide through the soft walls of your pussy leaving him acutely aware of every inch, the warmth coating him further until your slick was dampening the white, stray hairs of his groin.
he pulls your lips close again, one hand coming up to gently cradle your head, and his fingers weaving slowly through your hair.
"you're so deep in me, 'toru! so - hnngh," and your words are cut off by a staccato thrust of his hips, and your teeth clack around a moan that gojo gladly swallows.
"hey, i'm right here. i've got you, yeah? got you so good, just hold onto me."
and he keeps a steady pace, plunging into molten silk, with a sensation so intense and so enveloping that it left him breathless, with a rush of heat that made his head spin.
he's toying with your tits, pressing his face into the shadow that lies between your mounds, and gojo's certain that he could die a happy man like this, exactly like this.
he realises that the faint laugh is coming from him, so distant is he in his pussy-drunk reverie, that he realises he must look and sound like a madman, "pretty pussy is so tight, so fucking tight. haah, i think i'm gonna have to fill you up, gorgeous?" and he must be blathering, "want me to fill you up? shit- want me to stuff... ah! stuff you so full of cum that we just hafta stay in this bed all day then?"
he had his fingers now moving in circles over your throbbing clit, exerting a gentle pressure that had you so beautifully keening and bucking your hips up, jolting right into his pelvis. and gojo bit back as a groan as his heavy balls started to smack, and smack! over and over again, right onto your dampened skin.
"she must be close right, pretty little pussy must be almost tired now," and gojo's now slapping your clit, lifting three fingers up and bringing them down with enough force to not harm you, but make you jolt, "she. must. be. so. close." and each word is punctuated by the slippery spank of his fingers bouncing right off your mound.
"makes me want to have you - you and her," and gojo's revelling in the slick of your pussy, now throwing his head back without shame.
and when your walls start to flutter, when you start writhing in his grasp, pressed right against his chest with your legs knocked back as far as they reach on other side of his broad frame, he feels himself unravel. feels the rhythmic quake of your tight cunt literally milk him dry, letting pools of thick, white seed plug within you, and he almost shakes and tears up himself, at the idea of claiming you like this.
later, he has you resting against his chest and the knot in his chest, that nasty plague that sent him afoul has disappeared, and gojo feels as though he's about to start purring, from the feeling of your nails trailing little shapes over his skin (little hearts, perhaps?) and how soft your hair feels under his own hands. he can't resist himself from pressing his lips softly to your forehead, "happy?"
you laugh, a genuine, soft sound that erupts from your chest as you press your bare body into him, "you have no idea."
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zyafics-recs · 3 days ago
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reblogging comment by @zyafics
NOTE: currently listening to shades of blue by kelsey lu and with this reading, it EATSS
but when he learns you’ve been seeing other men after your ‘amicable’ breakup, he feels like he’s nineteen and ranging in misplaced anger all over again.
the giggle i just let out is actually insane
“where the fuck are you going?”
YOOOOO 😌🤭😁🙂‍↕️
it’s hard not to stare at his freshly shaved hair and it only makes you want to slap him stupid for not doing it years ago. what’s the point if you can’t have him? 
i actually need them to fuck so so so bad
he shakes his head, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. “got yourself a touron?”“don’t piss me off.”
i FUCKING LOVEEEE HER ATTITUDE, SHE'S SO ME 😭 gigi u get me so well <3
“his name is mike.”
pause.
“you got a new kink, mama?”
i'd fold- something about the mama nickname gets to me 🥰
“who said he has to? that’s your job. maybe i just want to fuck him, you ever think about that?” the admission feels like a betrayal and a liberation all at once.
god, i'm in love with your dialogues it's actually insane how much i admire it
“you drive me fucking insane, y’know that?”you merely blink, pretending to be bored, “go fuck yourself.”
stand up fucking business, me
it’s all sorts of desperate as if trying to bridge the problems between you, you're arching into him as his hand trails down your spine. his tongue is brushing across yours in a tentative swipe before you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him urgently. there's a hunger in rafe’s touch, a desperation to reclaim what his lost, and you respond in kind, your hands roaming over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles with a familiarity that sends shivers down his spine.
ok he got me 🫠 but had to highlight this paragraph because im absolutely in love w the way u WRITE 😭
“you’re not going on a fucking date.” “you can’t stop me.”“watch me.”
GIGI YOU ATEEEE, LEFT NO CRUMBS
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final thoughts 🤍as always gigi, i love, love, LOVE the way you frame your dialogues and descriptions. i feel like i'm repeating myself and it's losing its impact, but i wanna repeat it because whenever i read ur work i just get lost in this awe, this heartwrenching awe, for the absolute beauty and glory of how u string together words. u did my ask so perfectly, i cannot ask for anything better, AND i have to say the banter between rafe and reader is so fucking good, it's actually insane how u come up with them. i said it once and i'll say it again—the way they bounce off each other is so effortless yet the sentences r always so refreshing and grounded, like i could not guess what's going to be said next. i LOVE that in writing so much. ily 🥰💘
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a circus ain't a love story - baby daddy! rafe.
request: "baby daddy! rafe where reader and rafe are not together and she’s going on dates with men and he’s jealous but not like possessive jealous but like 🤭 jealous?" @zyafics
warnings: cursing; rafe's an asshole but he's just going through it <3; a lil angsty??; lots of tension and pent-up frustration; they just need to fuck it out honestly.
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rafe likes to think of himself as a changed man. 
long gone is the reckless impulsive guy that reigned horror in the outer banks. he’s grown now, the man of the family, and a father. he spends his days working hard, providing for his family, and cherishing every moment with his baby girl. 
but when he learns you’ve been seeing other men after your ‘amicable’ breakup, he feels like he’s nineteen and ranging in misplaced anger all over again. younger days, when his temper ruled his actions and consequences were an afterthought.
old insecurities resurface, whispering doubts and fears into his mind.
you’d broken up before, years ago, and it barely lasted a month before both of you caved in. but now? now, you have a baby together, and for some reason, the breakup feels…permanent. 
he thought you just needed a breather from him, a little space to settle your mind after going through all the changes with your pregnancy. maybe he took you for granted, maybe he became too comfortable, too complacent in the belief that your love was unshakeable. and he’s paying for it. 
“where the fuck are you going?”
he knows exactly where you’re going, he’s just a masochist.
rafe’s always been vocal about his thoughts around you, having virtually no filter between his brain and mouth. it’s something you’ve gotten used to after five years in a relationship, the man is nothing if not blunt and crass. but now, it's different.
you’re not a couple anymore. you shouldn't have to put up with his nagging bullshit. but you have a child together, which means that you’ll never be able to fully scratch him out of your system. 
how were you so good before and yet so terrible once your daughter got here? 
you sigh, choosing to keep your back to him. 
“date.”
you hear him snort, not even having to peek to know he’s shaking his head, blue eyes lingering between your new dress and the ceiling, “my bad. thought you were going to a gala.”
you turn then, hand on your waist as you take him in. it’s hard not to stare at his freshly shaved hair and it only makes you want to slap him stupid for not doing it years ago. what’s the point if you can’t have him? 
“why? it’s not illegal to put in effort.” you tilt your head slightly, ignoring the way his eyes are burning holes through your shiny legs.
he pulls his eyes back to your face, but all you can see is the imprinted vision of your daughter laying on his chest earlier, her chubby cheek pressed against his shirt and her little hand curled around his finger. 
rafe’s heart clenches, the bitterness of your words sinking deep into his bones. he knows what you're implying, knows that you're trying to hurt him.
“he’s worth all that, huh?”
you shrug your shoulder, pieces of your hair falling back as you attempt to act nonchalantly, “maybe he is.”
rafe’s lips twitch into a half-smirk, half-grimace, a familiar expression that used to make your heart race but now just knots your stomach.
“who is it this time? it’s just kinda hard to keep track of your dates.”
his gaze lingers on you, searching for something, perhaps a hint of the girl he fell in love with, buried beneath layers of resentment and exhaustion.
you grit your teeth, the frustration growing beneath the surface threatening to spill over, “you don’t know him.”
he shakes his head, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips. “got yourself a touron?”
“don’t piss me off.”
he raises his hands in mock surrender. “i’m not trying to. just curious.”
“his name is mike.”
rafe's lips quirk into a sardonic smile as he hears the name. "mike, huh? sounds like a guy who sells insurance or teaches yoga on the weekends."
you shoot him a glare, unamused by his jest. "can you just be serious for once?"
catching sight of the offended look in your face, he adds, “it’s not my fault you keep choosing the ugly ones.”
you stare at him incredulously, “you don’t even know him!”
“hear me out, okay? if you’re ever going to give charlotte a sibling might as well—“
you’d throw the mug on your kitchen table at his head if charlotte wasn’t sleeping in the room next door.
“you think you’re so fucking funny don’t you?!” 
rafe hushes you, one of his hands rising to his lips, “what happened to no cursing in the house?”
your eye twitches, fingers itching to wrap themselves around his throat. “i’ll strangle you right here, rafe.”
“you got a new kink, mama?”
his ability to push your buttons has always been unparalleled, and it seems he's mastered the art even more since your breakup. he still manages to evoke a weird mixture of irritation and fondness within you.
“you can’t keep doing this. i like mike, maybe i want to date mike.”
rafe's expression shifts, his brows furrowing slightly as if your words have struck a chord. but then, just as quickly, his facade hardens again. he raises an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "i’m just trying to help. you said the exact same thing about whatever his fucking name was two months ago.”
you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “see! you’re trying to patronize me.”
“’m not.”
“right,” you mutter, rolling your eyes, “course you aren’t.”
his taunting smirk is more than a little infuriating. “i just doubt this guy is gonna stick around.”
“oh, so that’s it?” you prod him, laughing in his face, hands curling into tight fists. you get closer, staring him down as you look upwards. “we’re back to lying to each other now?”
rafe’s face is contorted into a grimace; eyebrows furrowed, and you can feel his steady breathing before he speaks.
”i can do this all day.” he scoffs, a bitter edge creeping into his voice, “i think the moment you tell him about charlotte he’s gonna run back to whatever hole he creeped out of. you think he wants to be a daddy?”
“who said he has to? that’s your job. maybe i just want to fuck him, you ever think about that?” the admission feels like a betrayal and a liberation all at once.
it’s a familiar dance you two have been doing since the breakup – hurling accusations and blame at each other like weapons in a war neither of you can win.
rafe’s smirk fades into a scowl as your words hit him like a slap in the face. he takes a step back, one of his hands instinctively rising in a placating gesture, but there's a defiant glint in his eyes that tells you he's not backing down without a fight. 
his jaw tightens, “now you’re just trying to get under my skin.”
you throw your hands up in despair, “it’s always about you, unbelievable.” 
you feel like your heart is being vacuumed into your stomach as he stares.
“me?” his fingers dig into his chest, as if you’ve shot him right there, “you're the one who's constantly bringing up other guys, rubbing it in my face like- like i'm supposed to just sit back and take it."
you let out a slow controlled breath and attempt to loose your body movements. “we’re not doing this again.”
rafe knows he's treading on thin ice, but relents, “oh, m’sorry sweets. forgot you hate to be reminded i care.”
“care?” you laugh but it’s void of any humor, “is this your way of showing me you care? making me miserable? slut-shaming the mother of your daughter?”
“didn’t mean it like that, don’t twist my words.”
you square your shoulders, refusing to let him see the cracks in your armor. "you said what you said, and you can't take it back."
his jaw clenches, and you can almost hear the gears turning in his mind as he searches for the right words to say, “you’re pushing it.”
there’s a fiery anger in your eyes that makes his body warm. “so fucking what?”
without a word, rafe closes the distance between you, his movements tentative yet purposeful. his hand reaches out, fingers gripping your cheeks, his rough touch sending your body into a frenzy. you want to push him away, but the pull between you is too strong to resist. you’ve been yearning for his touch for months, no one knows how to pull your strings like he does.
“you drive me fucking insane, y’know that?”
you merely blink, pretending to be bored, “go fuck yourself.”
and then, in a rush of pent-up desire and frustration, rafe snakes a hand around the back of your head to pull you to meet him in a passionate kiss.
it’s all sorts of desperate as if trying to bridge the problems between you, you're arching into him as his hand trails down your spine. his tongue is brushing across yours in a tentative swipe before you’re meeting him halfway, kissing him urgently. there's a hunger in rafe’s touch, a desperation to reclaim what his lost, and you respond in kind, your hands roaming over his back, tracing the contours of his muscles with a familiarity that sends shivers down his spine.
“you’re not going on a fucking date.” he pants between kisses, the way his lips caress your face keeping you close distracting you momentarily.
“you can’t stop me.” 
his hand slides around your waist, over the curve of your ass, grabbing a handful in the process, “watch me.”
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bratzbrat · 1 day ago
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Bakugou with an anorexic reader? idk if u do this type of thing but im in recovery rn and it would help lol
you're in a safe space luv! I tried my best, have a speedy recovery! 🖤
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you sit at the table, pushing bits of food around your plate, mind fogged with an all too familiar chorus of thoughts. numbers float behind your eyes, calculations you've learned to do without thinking. maybe just half is enough. or a quarter. or maybe… maybe nothing at all.
across the table, your boyfriend watches you, his own food untouched as he takes in the slight crease between your brows and the way your fingers fidget with your fork. you can feel his eyes on you, his stare heavy, but you can't bring yourself to meet it. not now. not like this.
"what're you doin'?" he finally says, the tone rough but muted, almost careful.
you shrug, trying to make your voice sound light. "just… not that hungry, I guess."
he scoffs, a familiar sound that usually irritates you but now just feels exhausting. "bull. you barely touched anythin' yesterday, too."
you open your mouth to argue, to brush him off, but he's quicker, his hand landing over yours, stopping your fidgeting.
"hey," he says, softer this time. "what's goin' on?"
your throat tightens, and the words you want to say feel stuck, tangled in the thoughts that never seem to quiet. all the thoughts that whisper about control, about worth, about numbers... being enough—or, more often, not being enough. "i don't know," you say finally, the words almost a whisper. "I just... can't right now."
his thumb traces a small circle against the back of your hand, grounding you in a way you didn't expect. you feel his eyes soften, a rare gentleness that breaks through the usual fury he wears.
"y'know, i'm not… good at this sorta thing," he mutters, his grip tightening just slightly. "but I get it. sorta. more than ya think."
there's a pause, and you can tell he's choosing his words carefully. "but you don't gotta do this alone. i'm right here, alright? even if it's ugly or… hard. i ain't goin' anywhere."
your vision blurs a bit, but you blink it away, nodding slowly. he shifts his chair closer, not saying anything more, just sitting with you, his presence solid and steady in a way that makes you feel just a little more anchored.
the silence stretches on, but it's comforting this time, giving you room to breathe. his hand stays on yours, reminding you that he's there—that he sees you, even in the parts of yourself you're afraid to look at.
"maybe..." you murmur, a hint of uncertainty in your voice, "maybe I could eat a little more."
a soft smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and he nods, not pressing it. "good." he says. "take your time. i'm here."
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dilf-rot · 2 days ago
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Hot Summer - MDNI 18+
TAGS: Wolverine x Reader, Logan Howlett x Reader, Logan has a knot, idc if wolverines are not a canid species I’m doing my best ok, Femme Reader, Friends to lovers sort of deal, Mentions of rut / heat, maybe a little feral?, also im giving this bitch fangs because he should have them, smut with very little plot, creampie, helping a horny mutant in need, PinV, oral (fem receiving) ((for like 1 moment)), marking / hickeys / scratching, this is literally just smut with minimal plot
WORD COUNT: 2560
A/N: Hey, remember when I asked if you would still love me if I wrote Logan with a knot? Yeah well here it is, may it comfort you in this terrible world <3 
If you enjoy my work consider sending me a tip at https://ko-fi.com/rotwrites  (Not required by any means, writing requests are still free!) 
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The summer at the institute was always a little boring, or even very boring. You were one of the few students who hadn’t made plans and ended up stuck in the mansion, doing mindless tasks and trying to not be bored out of your mind. It was mostly empty, and as you walked the halls, you hardly even noticed the change in atmosphere. It had just been you, Charles, and a few other kids that would pop up every now and then. So, you were rather surprised when you rounded the corner and saw him standing there. 
“Logan,” You call, and he turns to look at you. Your breath catching in your throat as you take in the sight of him, sweaty and a little dirty from whatever he had been doing. “I thought you were out for the summer?”
“Yeah, was. Chuck called me back, gotta fix up some things.” He looks you over, and smiles, the flash of his sharp canines sending flutters right through your stomach. 
“Oh, well it’s good to see you.” You try not to stare, wondering if he has somehow gotten even more alluring in his brief absence. The length of your shorts, and thin fabric of your tank making you feel much more bare now than before. “I’ll let you get back to it,” 
“Thanks, doll. We’ll catch up when I’m done.” Something in his voice feels different, but you try not to focus on it as you head over towards the kitchen. He did look rather good, maybe even more than he usually did. Though you had been trying desperately not to think of him in that way, to preserve one of the few friendships you had built here. But the image of him dripping in sweat, in a dirt stained beater and jeans that were tight in all the right spots. That image would make things harder for sure. The thoughts of his teeth sliding along your neck, his rough hands clinging to your hips. 
You pushed those thoughts down as best as you could and decided you would attempt to read, lounging in the corner of the kitchen, book in hand. Your eyes flicking across the pages, barely absorbing the words, just trying to give yourself a reasonable distraction. You weren’t sure how long you had been doing this before Logan had made his way into the kitchen. 
“Reading?”
“Barely-” you laugh, but are briefly silenced when you look up to see Logan, shirtless. He has his dirty tank in his hand, using it to wipe the sweat from his brow. It wasn’t even that hot out for the season, and yet he was somehow soaked in sweat. You couldn’t imagine the work Charles had him doing to be that strenuous. 
“Oh yeah? Something on your mind?” He loops the fabric of the tank through one of his belt loops and walks over to the fridge. 
“Uh-” You can’t help the way your mind practically goes blank as you watch him. He’s taken a beer from the very back of the fridge and popped the cap off on the edge of the counter, hopefully he hadn’t chipped it or that would be another thing to add to his list of repairs. 
“You want one?” He references the drink in his hand, you nod and stand up from your chair. Whatever book you were reading was quickly forgotten and left on the floor. You stand next to him leaning against the counter as he opens the beer for you and hands it to you. He must’ve bought them and hid them in the back of the fridge whenever he had gotten back to the mansion, cause you couldn’t recall seeing any in there for the past few months. 
As you take the beer from him your fingers brush against his, and as if he had been shocked he flinches. His eyes are dark as he looks down at you. He grits his teeth and tries to regain his composure, but you can tell something is going on. You step closer to him, your hip almost touching him. He leans down towards you, as if he was going to tell you a secret.
You want to turn your face towards his, to swallow him up in a kiss, to beg him to tell you what he was thinking. But as he moves closer to you, you find yourself paralyzed.
“You smell good,” he breathes in, his face inches away from your neck.
“So do you…” You turn your head to avoid his gaze. He smells better than usual. Something about the smell of sunshine, dirt, and whatever sawdust or debris had been falling onto him made you want to reach out and grab him, but before you could, he corners you. Your back against the counter, his hands finding your hips and effortlessly lifting you on top of the counter. He presses himself against you. You're caged in by his large arms, the muscles taut and glistening.
His face against your neck, his teeth almost brushing against your skin. His rough fingers digging into your hips. The fabric of his jeans rubbing up against your thighs, now wet from his sweat and your sudden excitement.
“Logan-” you whine, practically trembling, and he seems to remember himself.
“Sorry, doll.” He steps back and looks you over, a devious glint in his eye. Without another word he is gone from the kitchen. You are unsure of what to do, or what even was happening but eventually follow him.
He has resigned himself to his room, and you can hear him pacing back and forth behind the door. You knock gently and the sounds stop. He opens the door just a crack, he seems even sweatier and disheveled from when he had found you in the kitchen. His eyes piercing and intense, his pupils blown wide, his breath slow and shaky. 
“Logan, are you alright?”
He grunts in response, shaking his head. 
“What’s wrong?” 
He looks you over, and opens the door wider. You step inside and he quickly shuts the door. He looks even wilder than he had in the kitchen, still shirtless, only in his jeans. Which you try not to make note of the very large and obvious bulge in the crotch. His hair is messy and disheveled, you imagine he had been running his hands through it as he was pacing around.
“Logan?” You walk towards him and he makes a strangled sound. “Are you feeling ok?”
When he turns towards you, your heart races and your breath catches in your throat. He looks so pathetic. Rendered down to some poor animalistic creature. He walks slowly towards you, and when he is a mere step away he grabs your hands and pins them up above you, your back pressed against the door. 
“You should go,” He growls into your ear as he brushes his nose against your jaw. “Too dangerous for you to be in here.”
“Why? You’re not gonna hurt me,” You lean into his touch, resting your head against his.
“Might,” He drops your wrists and tries to step away, but you follow. Keeping the gap between you as small as possible. He groans as you run your hands along his arms, trying to be gentle and encouraging so that he may tell you what’s going on. Before you can ask, he takes one of your hands and slides it underneath the waistband of his pants. 
Your eyes widened as you feel the weight and heat of his cock in your hand. You curiously push your hand down more and feel a swollen bulb at the base of it. Oh. 
Oh. 
Now you understood. You had at some points wondered just how animalistic his mutation was, but now you got it. Late summer was a rather common breeding season for a variety of mammals and it seems as if Logan was one of them. 
“Let me help you,” You slide your fingers up the length of him, tracing the prominent vein on the underneath of the shaft.
“Don’t think that’s a good idea,” He shudders as you wrap your fingers around his cock.
“Why not?” You smile up at him, and you feel him straining to not thrust up into your hand.
“You might regret it.”
“I don’t think so,” you lean up so that your lips are nearly brushing his, and his restrain snaps.
He closes the distance and practically devours you, kissing you rough and desperately. 
It was as if a fire had been reignited within him and he could do nothing to put it out. His hands grasping and clawing at you, wrapping his arms around your waist and squeezing you tight against him. His lips leaving frenzied kisses against your jaw and neck, his teeth grazing the soft skin and his tongue soothing the small marks left in their wake.
He lifted you easily, dragging the both of you towards the bed where he tossed you down against the mess of sheets and pillows. His hands running along the curvature of your body, as if removing himself from you would cause him great pain. His face was wild, that of a crazed man who finally had found whatever he had been searching for.
You were utterly breathless and your heart beat rang in your ears loud as could be. He makes quick work of your clothes, tossing them off somewhere, his hands hardly leaving your body for more than a few seconds. He drags himself away from you for just long enough to find himself kneeling in front of you, pulling you down to the edge of the bed, your legs resting on his shoulders, his head between them, looking up towards you with the most pathetically hungry expression you could have ever imagined.
“You’re sure doll?” His voice is strained and rough. 
You nod, your hands finding their way to tangle in his hair to softly encourage him to continue. He growls and presses his lips to your inner thigh, kissing the soft skin and taking the flesh into his mouth to nibble and bite at. Trailing up and down the length of each thigh, relishing in the small whines and moans leaving your mouth as he decorates your delicate skin with marks. Feeling satisfied that you were now his in this moment, he brings his attention to the aching spot between your thighs, dragging his tongue up through your folds to lap and suck upon your clit. The feeling electric and mind numbing. He slides his tongue along your clit in sloppy circular motions, sucking it in gently, generating small whimpers from you. He growls as he hungrily slurps you up, his patience growing thin as he becomes entirely enveloped in your scent. 
He pulls away from you, a small whine leaving your lips as you sit up and rest on your elbows to watch him. He quickly kicks off his pants, and you gasp when you see him. The tip of his cock is red with need and practically dripping. You feel a bit more intimidated now as you stare wide-eyed at the bulb throbbing at the base of his cock. You could only pray that it would fit. 
Logan smirks and hovers over you, caging you in with his large arms. “Having some regrets, princess?”
“No,” you lift your hips up to shamelessly rub yourself against his erection and he groans. One hand moving down your body to roughly grab your hip pushing you down into the mattress. He slides his cock between your wetness, your breath hitching when the head of his cock bumps against your clit. Your arousal coating him, the slick wet noises make your head spin. 
“Please,” You whine. He presses the tip against your entrance and you try to lift your hips closer to him, begging for it to slide inside. Your breath hitching when it finally does. He moves painfully slow, the drag of his cock slowly stretching you out. A sort of burning rising in your stomach as you strain to be closer to him.
“So desperate,” He huffs, wrapping an arm around you and holding you close against him as he bottoms out. Your whines make his heart ache. “I’ve got you princess, I’m right here.”
You claw at his shoulders, his arms, his back, anything you can reach. The knot at the base of his cock pressing into you, you feel like you could break. Heat spreading over your entire body. You can’t get close enough. You want him to devour you. To take what he needs and worry about you later, but he’s being so gentle that it makes your eyes water. 
His pace stays slow, once he feels you relax, he pulls himself back before pressing in again. Slow, deliberate, patient. He watches your face as you try to play tough, acting like you can handle it despite your trembling. When you flutter around him and a broken moan falls from your mouth he falters.
“I don’t think I can be gentle for much longer,” He whispers against your neck, kissing right below your ear.
“So don’t be,” your whimper flips a switch in him. He would have preferred your first time together to be different than this, to be softer and sweeter. To be kinder to you. But when you beg to help him, and try to take him so good, he can’t help himself. 
He barely hesitates before his pace quickens, and the sheer force of his movements is enough to make your brain fuzzy and dumb. The headboard smacking into the wall with every rough movement, the bed frame creaking beneath you. You’d feel bad about all the noise if you were in any position to feel anything other than Logan ruthlessly fucking you. 
His cock stretches you in such a way that each thrust presses against that sweet spot inside you. The knot at the base pressing against your clit. The slap of it sends little waves of pleasure throughout your body. His pace hardly falters, as you grip onto his arms, your legs tightly wrapped around his waist, desperately trying to take it. To help him through it. Wanting him to use you and be satiated. 
“Fuck, that’s a good girl,” he groans as he feels you tighten around him. You tremble and whine, shaking as your orgasm takes over and you can hardly think of anything as his motions begin to falter too. 
He shudders as he pumps into you, his ruthless pace being diminished into small quick thrusts. You groan as you feel the knot slip in, and he cums. You feel so utterly full as more and more cum is spilled into you. So much so that it’s dripping down onto the mattress beneath you. Your eyes rolling back in your head, and you can feel drool leaking from your open mouth. Your body feeling limp, you can hardly manage to keep your eyes open and steady enough to look at Logan. He seems hardly affected. 
“We’re gonna be here a while, Doll. Don’t get tired on me already,” Logan grins, pressing his lips against your neck and you shudder as you feel his sharp canines graze the sensitive skin.
At least the rest of your summer would be far from boring. 
206 notes · View notes
justmeinadaze · 2 days ago
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November Rain (Boxer!Eddie X Plus Size Y/N)
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A/N: I dreamed about this idea and my time of the month fueled it.
Please Enjoy <3
Warnings: Older (Early to Mid 30s) Dominate Boxer Eddie X Plus Size Fem younger (early to mid 20s) sub Y/N, SMUT, Daddy kink (because Im me), light spanking, big dick Eddie Munson :P, etc.
ANGST, reader meets the boxer while on a date with someone else, mentions of pain from the ring but nothing too dramatic, reader and Eddie mentions just getting out of relationships, nothing negative is mentioned about Y/N size <3. All positive and Eddie thinks she's perfect :). CLIFFHANGER ENDING 😈
Word Count: 4753
Other Eddie Stories here/ Donate to Me
"When I look into your eyes
I can see a love restrained
But darlin' when I hold you
Don't you know I feel the same?"
“Paige, I hate you. This guy is the worst.”
“Oh, he’s not that bad! Lol. Where did he take you?”
“A boxing match.”
“NO! Lol. Oh my god. I hate boxing and how the fuck are you supposed to talk there?”
“He’s taking me to a bar after.”
“Text me when you get home so I know you’re not dead :P.”
“Love you to, dork.”
“Who are you talking to?”, your blind date asks as he lightly nudges you with his shoulder. 
“Paige. I’m just telling her how nice you are and that you haven’t murdered me yet.”
“Ha! Well, the night’s still young.”, he laughed causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion, not out of fear but annoyance that he thought that was the appropriate thing to say to someone he only met an hour ago.
When your friend and roommate suggested you go on this blind date you originally declined. You had just gotten out of a 2-year relationship and wasn’t in the mood to dive back in. After a couple of lonely (and needy) nights, you changed your tune. 
She insisted he was a nice guy she knew from work and he absolutely was but it didn’t overshadow his awkward personality. When he suggested coming to a boxing match, you were actually intrigued thinking it was an out of the box idea instead of going to the movies or dinner. As the small arena began to fill, you found yourself more fascinated by the people around you casually talking about one of the fighters. 
Eddie Munson was a “veteran” in the field, being a bit older than most boxers in the ring. He had won multiple matches but for whatever reason managers and venues didn’t take him seriously. The kid he was fighting had many accolades and higher stats but his wins matched his opponents from the pamphlet you skimmed through while you two waited. 
As the lights lowered and both men were introduced into the ring, you couldn’t help but focus on the older boxer. He was extremely handsome with his sharp jaw and intense, piercing eyes that commanded attention. His chest and muscular arms were littered with tattoos that accented his physique perfectly.  
With all the cheering and commotion around the ring, you were surprised when his eyes landed on you. He tried to look away but you noticed his gaze kept lingering back to where you were sitting. Trying not to appear intimidated, you smirked his way and leaned back in your seat where your date’s arm was strewn along the back. The boxer slowly took you in, scanning along the short sleeve black dress that clung tightly to your busty chest and large curves. Your high heeled shoe absently tapped the air as he glanced down your legs and back up to your face. 
Someone you assumed was his coach, tapped his shoulder and forced him to focus as he screamed instruction into his ear. Rising to his feet, the person took his robe before he headed for the middle of the ring. On his short stride, his gaze shifted towards you again making your smile grow as you silently mouth the words “Good Luck.”
Eddie jumps slightly as the announcer’s voice flows loudly near him startling him as you giggle and he shakes his head.
***
“Yeah so I do contracting at this firm and it’s so stupid but…”
You don’t know if your date notices but your eyes had begun to glaze over as he spoke. Your date seemed like a nice enough guy but was definitely not your cup of tea. The one thing you feared about dating again was mundane shit that came with casual conversation. You always wished you could skip over this part and get to the moment where you were comfortable again. 
“I feel like I’m droning on and on. Tell me about you.”
“Oh…um…there’s not much to tell really.”
“Of course there is. Tell me about your job, your family, everything!”, he chuckles a bit too enthusiastically as you try to hide your cringe behind your smile. 
“Excuse me, miss. Telephone for you.”, the bartender interrupts as he points at his phone near the end of the counter.
“Oh, thank you. Excuse me.”
After hopping down from your stool, you make your way to the telephone and put it to your ear.
“Hello?”
“I thought maybe I’d give you a minute of peace from chatty Cathy.”, the smooth voice on the other end laughs. 
“Hm. How do you know I wasn’t enjoying the chat?”, you ask as your eyes fleet around the bar.
“Well first off, you were way too eager to get away. I mean you didn’t even ask who was calling. Add in the fact that your face is worth a thousand words, sweetheart.”
It takes you another few seconds before you find your mystery caller leaning against the wall by the front door on his cell phone. The long-haired boxer’s grin grew when your eyes met his as his subtly waved his fingers in your direction. 
“Wanna get out of here?”
“I’m in the middle of date. I can’t just leave.”, you tease knowing full well you’d let him kidnap you if that meant leaving this date behind.
“There’s only so long you can keep up this rouse before he starts getting suspicious so I would make a decision quickly.”
“Pfft, his brain doesn’t move that fast.”
The man’s laugh echoed into your ear straight to your heart as you blushed, glad that you had the ability to make someone laugh like he just had. 
“Honey, a woman as beautiful as you in that sexy dress shouldn’t be bored out of her mind. She should be having her mind blown.”
“And you’re the man to do that?”
“I’d like to try if you give me the chance. I have a feeling you’re not easy to please like all these other giggly girls and I like a challenge.”
“Smooth, Mr. Munson.”, you giggle.
“Ah, so you were there to see me fight.”
“No, sir. It was just a happy accident.”
“Ooooo sir. I like that. You can just call me Eddie for right now though.”
“I prefer the term Daddy.”
It was no longer subtle that the two of you were staring at each other from across the bar. His breathing stutter slightly and you bit your bottom lip to force them to remain still even though you wanted to smirk his way. 
“Y/N? Everything alright?”, your date asked as he placed himself in the chair next to where you were standing. 
“Y/N.”, Eddie repeated as if he was trying to familiarize himself with your name. When you didn’t reply, your date’s palm reaches out to slide down your arm and take your hand in his. “I’m counting every second he touches you. That’s how many times I’m going spank you for allowing it.”
A tear runs down your cheek and you see regret flash through his eyes, worried he may have gone too far before he sees you hang up the phone and pull your hand from your date’s grasp. 
“I have to go. My brother was in-in an accident.”, you cry as you make a beeline to where the boxer was standing near the coat check desk. “Excuse me.”, you murmur as your arm brushes chest, the contact sending a little electricity through you both. 
“No problem.”, he mumbles as he turns to leave, making sure the back of his hand grazes yours as he does. 
“Do you want me to drive you—”
“No, no its ok. My sister lives close by so she’s going to pick me up. She’s the one that called.”
“Ok, well, let me at least wait with you.”
“Alright. You pay and I’ll wait outside.”
After he nods, you sprint outside to find Eddie sitting on a motorcycle offering you a helmet. 
“Really?”, you sass as you take it from his hand and slide it onto your head. 
“Psh like you don’t like it.”
Revving the engine, you cling to his waist as he drives off into the night.
***
Your eyebrow raises as pulls up to a gym and sifts through his pockets to search for his keys. 
“Yeah, um, welcome to my humble abode for the time being.”
“You live in a gym?”
“I live in the back of a gym. Big difference.”
“Oh absolutely.”, you jest as you allow him to lead you inside. “I would figure with how good of a fighter you are, you’d have Rocky 4 levels of riches.”
Again, he cackles as he throws his head back and in that moment, you started to realize you would do anything to continue hearing that sound. 
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard someone from your generation mention such an old movie.”
“It’s not that old and neither are you.”
“Well, aren’t you sweet.”, he smiles as he opens another door in the back and gestures you inside. “I kind of started boxing a bit late in the game compared to everyone else around me. Some of these kids have been doing it their whole lives and I only started training 10 years ago.”
As you take in his little room, Eddie heads to his mini fridge to grab a couple of beers. You could tell, he hadn’t been here long, living out of a suitcase for the time being. 
“How long are you stuck here?”
“I actually just got an apartment so I move in, in about a month.”
“What happened to your last place?”
Eddie smiles as he hands you one of the bottles in his hand. 
“You ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m inquisitive.”, you smirk back as tilt the beer to clink with his before taking a sip. “I need to know if this is where you take your hookups to hide from your wife.”
“What makes you think I’m married?”
“Huh.”, you muse as you take a seat on his couch/bed. “Most men would immediately deny. ‘Oh, no, baby! I’m not married. I swear.’”
The boxer rushes forward as you speak to hastily move his sheets and pillow on to another chair before taking a seat beside you. 
“I’m, um, no I’m not married.”, he chuckles nervously. “Full transparency, I actually just got out of relationship so if I seem…awkward…that’s why.”
“I think you’re doing alright.”, you smile as you turn to face him getting more comfortable and he does the same. “Better than chatty Cathy.”
Again, he laughs and again you swoon. 
“If it makes you feel better I just got out of a two-year relationship myself.”
“I’m sorry, sweetheart. How long has it been?”
“A few months.”
“Geez and you’re already dating?” When you don’t laugh like he does, Eddie panics as you sip your beverage. “No, that came out wrong. I just meant that you’re doing better than me. It’s been a year since I’ve even seen my ex and dating hadn’t even crossed my mind. Fuck, I sound like an idiot.”
Your giggle pierces his heart and he melts in relief. 
“No, you don’t. May I ask what made you find the confidence to ask me over?”
“I saw you from the ring and thought you were a fucking angel I’d never see again. When I walked into the bar and saw you, I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity slip away.”
“Wow. Smooth again, Mr. Munson.”
“I thought you preferred Daddy.” You blushed as your head dipped, trying to hide your eyes but his callused fingers quickly reached out to grab your chin forcing you to look at him again. “This…This goes without saying but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. We can just talk or—”
Your lips on his interrupted his gentlemanly speech before tilting back slightly so your mouth wasn’t far but you could still see his face. 
“Do I make you nervous, Daddy?”
“Fuuuuuuuck.”, Eddie whispers as both palms cup your cheeks. “I don’t want t-to disappoint you.”
Slowly, you crawl over him till your straddling his lap and take hold of his hands to guide them to your wide hips.
“You won’t, baby, but if this isn’t something you’re into—”
“No, no, no. I’m into it.”, he rushes making you giggle as his face flushes with embarrassment at his earnestness. “My ex wasn’t… she tried for me a couple of times but...”
“You never really fully got to take control?”
“I told you it’s been a while since I’ve dated but it’s been even longer since I was able to be Daddy.”
“Sounds lonely.” His head tilts to the side at your statement as his brows furrow. “People don’t understand it but when I’m in my little girl headspace I feel safe when I’m with the right partner. It’s natural for me sometimes when I’m intimate to slip into that mode and if I was with someone who couldn’t satisfy that… I would feel lonely…like I did something wrong.”
When your eyes meet his again, Eddie’s smiling up at you with a softness you appreciate. 
“Thank you for coming to my TED talk.”
His body shakes as he laughs and you feel the energy in the room lighten. 
Comfortable.
Bringing your lips to his, he reciprocates with more confidence.
“Take your time and ease back into it.”, you whisper. 
You continue to grind against him as you murmur soft words in his ear and his hands roam your back. Gripping the bottom of your dress, he lifts it up your body and groans as his eyes hungrily take you in. 
“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.” Smirking, you slide off him, your eyes never leaving his as you remove your panties and toss them at his chest. “Leave your shoes on and crawl to Daddy, baby.”
Your pussy clenches at his words, his confidence in the title starting to return. Sinking to your knees, you do as he says making him groan as he unbuckles his belt and pushes his pants to his ankles allowing his cock to spring free. 
As he spits into his hand and strokes himself, you pause. 
“Jesus. You’re so fucking big.”
“Hey.”, Eddie growls causing your head to snap at attention. “Watch your mouth.”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ve just…” You continue to crawl forward till your hands balance on his knees. “…never had a dick as big as yours inside me. I-I don’t know if it will fit.”
“Shit. It’ll fit, pretty girl. We’ll make it fit. You just have to get it nice and wet.”
After nodding in agreement, he hisses as your hand wraps around him and the tip of your tongue darts out to lick the little beads of precum that had begun to leak out.
“Goddamn it, Y/N.”
Opening your mouth wide, you test the waters and bob your head taking half of him as you allow your tongue to swirl around his head along his slit. 
“T-That’s it, baby.”, Eddie pants as he pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail to get a better look at you’re doing. “Good girl. Your mouth feels so…so good. Try and take more, sweetheart.”
You do as he asks and promptly gag as your throat constricts around him. 
“Fuck! That’s it. Take it, baby. Choke on Daddy’s cock. Let m-me help.” Holding you tightly, you allow him to use you as he thrusts his hips and his dick hits the back of your throat. “There we go. Mouth open, flat tongue. So fucking beautiful taking my dick like this.”
Tears spill, smearing your make up as he lets you go and you take in big gulps of air. Grasping your cheeks, he kisses your lips as his thumbs wipe away the stains under your eyes. 
“Such a good girl… so good for me. I should have asked but do you have a safe word? Is Red still a good one?”
Eddie smiles as you breathily laugh and give him a peck before climbing up his lap to straddle him again. 
“Red is still good.”
“Turn around, sweetheart.”
After doing what he says, your whole body melts into his slightly sweaty chest as his arms wrap around you. Gripping the base of his shaft, you shutter as he slides his cock between your folds, teasing your clit with his tip. 
“You’re so wet, little girl, fuck. Are you ready for Daddy, baby?”
“Yes. Please.” Lifting your hips to help guide him, the boxer begins to gradually push himself inside of you. “Oh…f-fuck…”
“Are you ok?”, he whispers in your ear as you fully fall back against him. 
“Yeah, yeah. It…feels so good…so big. Mmnah!”, you whine as he slowly thrusts in another inch stretching you open. 
“You’re doing so good for me, Y/N. Take your time.  We have all night, honey.” 
Your half lidded eyes watch as he runs his tongue along his fingers before bringing them down to massage circles against your clit, feeling your pussy flutter and allowing him more leeway as you both groan feeling your lap finally connect with his. 
“You’re—mmph—so fucking tight.”
Experimentally, you roll your hips and the moan that leaves his lips has your eyes rolling as you do it again. You know his fingers gripping your love handles will leave bruises as he starts to guide you but you don’t care as you suck hickies into his neck, smiling at the vibration as he groans. 
“Bounce, pretty girl. Fuck me hard.”
Balancing your hands on his knees, your head lulls forward as you bounce on top of him, mewling repetitive ahs as he slams into that sensitive spot inside you. His palm comes down hard on your ass as he continues to knead his fingers into the plump flesh. 
“God, I can’t get over how fucking sexy you are. Cum for Daddy, sweetheart. Make—fuck—make yourself cum on my cock.”
Falling back against him, his wide lust filled eyes watch as one of your arms comes around to cling to the back of his neck as your other brings your hand to massage your breast. Eddie had never met a woman like you before and was pretty sure he would never meet again. 
Even with his ex, she used to be pretty open minded but never seemed to carry the kind of confidence you did. He knew when he saw you from the ring that you were different but he had promised himself he would focus on his career for the time being before jumping into anything new relationship wise. 
But how could he let you walk out that door tomorrow morning and let you go?
Your body trembled against him and he grunted as your cunt gripped his cock as you came. You rode out your high and the feeling made him almost feral as he picked you up to move you both the floor.
With his hand firmly holding the back of your neck smushing your cheek into the floor, Eddie thrust into you with rough abandon as you fell apart beneath him. 
“Oh my Goooooood. So fucking deep.”
Twisting his hand to curl his fingers in your hair, he yanked you closer to his chest and slowed his pace but not his intensity as his skin slapped obscenely into yours.
“Does my dick feel good, sweetheart?”
“Yeeeeesss—mmmah!”
“Tell me. Tell Daddy how much this tight little pussy loves my cock.”
“Y-Your cock feels so good, Daddy. My pussy was made for you.” As you spoke, his forehead rested against your cheek as his eyes shut and he found his rhythm again. “I want to feel you cum inside me, baby please.”
His eyes snapped open as he scanned your face realizing immediately you were telling the truth. 
“Don’t—Don’t say shit like that, little girl, unless you mean it.”
“P-P-Please, Daddy. I promise I’m safe. I need you to fill me up. I need to feel how good my pussy made you feel.”
“Goddamn it.”, Eddie grunted, pulling out and aggressively flipping you over onto your back before guiding himself back inside you. 
Your legs promptly wrapped around his waist and he pounded into you knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. 
“Just like that, Daddy. I’m—fuck—M’gonna cum again. Cum with me.”
Balancing on his palms, his chocolate irises took in all of your beautiful features as they contorted in pleasure. It had been so long since he made a woman feel this good and he desperately wanted to please you. Your palms massaged along his slightly sore arms and his chest, gliding effortlessly over his bruises that were beginning to form from his fight earlier that night. 
None of that mattered. 
Every ache and pain he carried from the ring, disappeared as soon as you touched him and all he could focus on was the warmth that was you. 
“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. I’ll give you what you want.”
Circling your arms around him, you pulled him against your body, needing to absorb him as he rolled his hips, grunting in your ear till you felt his release warm you deeper than any man you had before. The whine Eddie made as his fingers clung to your hair was enough to have the coil snap for the final time that night as your pussy tried to milk everything he had to give. 
You both laid there together silently intertwined for a good long while as you tried to catch your breaths. 
“Are you ok?”, you whisper.
Pushing up onto his elbows, his hand moves some stray hairs away from your sweaty face as he softly smiles down at you. 
“Yeah, baby, I’m good. Are you alright?”
“Yeah, a little sore.”, you answer as your eyes gesture between your bodies. 
“Shit, ok, um, I’ll go slow. Ready?” When you nodded, as gently as he could, he pulled out of your aching cunt, cooing praise at you as you winced. “Good. Good girl. We, um, I don’t have a shower in here but there are locker rooms with showers if you want or we can stay here of course.”
“I’d like to shower, please.”
The way you said please told him you were still coming down from that headspace causing your words to echo in his brain about how lonely it can be being stuck there and not being taken care of properly. 
Rising to his feet, he hastily helped you to yours before taking you in his arms and caring you to the locker room. 
“Thank you. I’m not too heavy?”
“Not at all, princess.”
You watch his face as he turns on the water and makes cute little faces as the cold water hits his hand first before steaming up the area. As he cleaned your skin, his tongue poked out the side of his mouth making a little giggle fall from yours. 
“What are you laughing at?”
“You.”, you smile. “You’re just really adorable.”
“Thank you? I think.”, he grins as he comes up to kiss your forehead.
After you’re both clean and back in his room, he pulls out the couch to turn it into a bed and places you on it before you notice him pause. 
“I, um, I just assumed you’d be falling asleep here. I’m sorry. Did…did you need to get home?”
“Um…” You meant what you said when it came to relationships. You weren’t ready to jump into a new one and when you let him bring you home you told yourself this was just going to be a onetime thing but you couldn’t deny there was something about this man that made you feel safe. Maybe you could just take things slow and see where it led. “No, I can stay.”
Eddie breathed a sigh of relief as he leaned down to kiss your lips. Throwing one his shirts over your frame, you laughed as he pulled on his boxers and obnoxiously jumped into bed.
With your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around you, the two of you talked till the sun slowly began to rise outside his window. 
##################
“I thought you were dead!”, Paige shouted as she lightly pushed your arm before getting up to hug you when she saw you walk into the restaurant you two were supposed to be meeting at. “You didn’t text me or anything and when I woke up you weren’t home.”
“I know! I’m so sorry. I got caught up with someone…”, you grin as your eyes bashfully meet hers.
“Oh, tell me everything.”
The two of you giggle as you regale her with the story of the previous night’s events as you swoon over the older boxer you met. 
“Ugh, well I’m glad something good came from boxing.”, she sassed, sticking out her tongue for emphasis. 
“Good lord, what is it with you and boxing? Were you once a fighter who lost her dream when another fighter broke your neck?”
“No, you movie nerd.”, she laughs. “My dad’s a boxer. I mean I guess you can call him that. He’s a mechanic but decided randomly to start training to fight.”
“Your dad the deadbeat?”
“Yeah. He went training 24/7 and it killed my mother. They stopped spending time together and when they were together they fought constantly. One day a few months ago, he was just gone and next thing I know they are getting a divorce.”
“I’m so sorry, Paige. I know how hard divorce is on a family.”
“He’s supposed to meet me today to get some more of his things. He doesn’t have a place right now and begged my mom to hold his stuff till he found something. I guess he’s won a good amount of matches because he told her the other day he’d saved enough money to finally move. My mom refuses to see him so I’m the messenger I guess.”
“Do you want me to lag behind so I can be your reason to leave? ‘Oh here’s my roommate. We have to go.’”, you joke.
“My saint. Would you please? Op, speak of the goddamn devil.”, she sighs as she flashes you her phone screen. “I’ll meet you outside.”
As she walks outside, you hurry to pay so she’s not alone for too long. Paige was a wonderful roommate and an even better friend. When you met her, you had just had your breakup and nowhere to go. She was sympathetic to your plight and helped you at your absolutely lowest. She got you get back on your feet and now after meeting Eddie, maybe things were finally on the right track again. 
“You don’t have to do this, sweetheart. I can drive down there and get my things myself. She shouldn’t be asking you to be the ‘middleman’. This is between me and your mother.”
“I don’t mind doing it after what you did to her. Imagine how she’d feel if you showed up covered in hickeys. Hide that shit better.”, Paige shouted as she slammed her trunk closed and her father lifted the collar of his jacket. “Whatever doesn’t fucking matter. All that matters to you now is yourself and your dreams, you fucking asshole.”
“Paige, please. Can we just talk so I can explain some things—”
“No, we can’t. My roommates here and we need to go home. Right, Y/N?”, she growls as she turns to face you. 
Your eyes widen as you come face to face with Paige’s “deadbeat” father. Eddie seems equally as surprised as his jaw falls open. 
“Th-This is the girl you moved in with?”, he whispered.
“What do you care? She’s my friend and mom loves her. Come on, Y/N.”
As your roommate, grips your arm and pulls you to her car, you struggle to take your eyes off the older man as his own irises sullenly follow.
Of course. How could I be so stupid to think things would get better? I should have refused the blind like I wanted to. If I had this would never have happened. I’m a fucking idiot. 
As Eddie watches his daughter speed away with the angel he met last night, he pulled the piece of paper you left by his nightstand with your phone number and a note saying you needed to meet your roommate for lunch but you would talk to him later. 
His heart fell into his stomach as the notion ran through his head that you may never want to speak with him again. 
################
@dashingdeb16 @myherometalhead @micheledawn1975 @hardladyheart @chelebelletx @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @paleidiot
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holybibly · 2 days ago
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hiiii :> im new here. I’ve never sent anything like this, or anything at all honestly because I get really shy:( I love your writing hehehe it’s very 😳 im sorry to be upfront 😖 but could I request some yunho.. thoughts? AHHHHH im too shy to say it omg🥲🥲🥲 hishandsandhimjusthimbeingadomiwanthimtodestroymeomg. I read your unholy thought of the day for yunho on the fourth, and 😵‍💫😵‍💫 I can’t seem to get him out of my head. M SORRYYY i sound so needy it’s embarrassing.
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Your wishes are my commands, my sweet bunnies. If you want more unholy thoughts with Yunho, here you go.
Unholy thoughts of the day, my bunnies: Sometimes Yunho just wants to be a good boy for you and let you use him like a toy. Or Yunho wants to return the favour and warm your pussy with his mouth while you're chatting carelessly on the phone.
You made yourself comfortable on the bed with your legs bent and spread wide apart as you continued to talk to your best friend on the phone, discussing your trip to Jeju together next month. Yunho was lying on his stomach between your legs, mooing softly and contentedly as he pressed his handsome face against your pussy. In this position, you could easily see his plump, bare buttocks peeking seductively out from under the edge of his oversized, homely t-shirt. 
As he began to wriggle slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position, you could catch a glimpse of his thick, large cock with its swollen veins and black vibrating ring at the base. The swollen head was red and shiny from the copious amounts of pre-cum that had leaked out, and you unconsciously licked your lips, thinking how good it would taste when you finally took his cock in your mouth. It was strange, and you know many would consider you a pervert, but sometimes you just wanted to suck his cock and heavy testicles like a favourite pacifier, not for sexual pleasure but just for comfort. Just like Yunho liked to keep his fingers deep inside you, feeling your slippery, warm walls clinging greedily around them. You were a dirty couple; sue you for that.
He purrs softly, drawing your attention back to him, and you stroke his hair as that moist, soft mouth completely surrounds your tiny pussy, providing warmth, and you can feel the faintest hint of his tongue pressing against your tender folds and labia, but nothing more.  You've only recently started practicing pussywarming with him, and you have to say it's been an exciting experience. You loved warming Yunho's huge, delicious cock in your tight cunt, but your gorgeous boyfriend thought it only fair to return the favour and warm his sweet girl with his mouth while you went about your routine business. 
You weren't surprised at all by his desire, Yunho loved to eat pussy and he was amazing at it, you loved how messy and sloppy a eater he was, always greedy and slobbering licking your cunt and pulling as many orgasms out of you as he could before you begged him to stop, although even that wasn't much of a reason for him to stop swirling his tongue around your tiny hole. You also practiced 'free use' by refusing to wear any underwear at home and sometimes outside.
You were so excited to try something new and please your boyfriend, but damn if anyone told you it was going to be as easy as it seemed.
At first it was an unbearable pleasure, almost on the verge of pain, when Yunho had to restrain himself with all his might from licking you like crazy and sucking your cute clit into his insatiable mouth, wrapping his lips around it, and sipping it every now and then. But the more you did it, the easier it became, and now Yunho was warming your pussycat with his mouth like a champion. Spend hours between your legs while you were doing your usual things. You don't want your friend to hear your next words, so you put your phone away.
"You look so sweet, baby." You pull his hair harder, and he looks up at you with his huge eyes clouded with pleasure, carefully dipping the tip of his tongue into your slit. "You make me feel so good, Yuyu."
He lets out a low moan at your praise, bobbing his head up and down a little as if you were riding on his face to heighten pleasure, and your thighs tremble a little at the delicious stimulation. Yunho lifts his hips off the bed and slides his hand underneath to stroke his needy cock. The soft fabric of his shirt slides all the way down the curve of his ass and to his waist, exposing his buttocks, and you bite your bottom lip from the seductive sight.
This also serves as a signal for you to end the conversation quickly and let him fuck your pussy properly.
"Yuri, I'm sorry, but I have to go; Yunho and I have plans for tonight." You smile as you see Yunho's eyes darken and become heavy with sensual anticipation, and he no longer holds back, starting to tickle your clit quickly and jerkily with the tip of his tongue. You almost scream, ignoring your friend and hastily pressing the end call button. "Oh fuck, Yunho."
He finally releases your cunt from his mouth, only to spit into it and immediately smear his drool all over your folds with his tongue.
"Are you going to sit on my face or am I going to fold you in half, princess?" He purrs before wrapping his lips around your clit and tugging. You arch your hips and pull his hair roughly.
"How about 69, baby? I want to taste you too."
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evilslushy · 2 days ago
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would you be open to doing bf headcanons for hamzah? they could be sfw and nsfw or just sfw. love ur writing :). <3
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BF Headcanons _♡
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SFW
i’m a very opinionated person, so asking me about my hamzah headcanons is a FIELD DAY for me
I’ve always said this but I feel like hamzah (in the beginning of the relationship) is very shy? Not in the way of “ignore any possible interaction between you and him” but more of a “ignores eye contact after a kiss” or “blushes when you call him a nickname for the first time”
He acts like he hates when you baby him but behind closed doors… BIGGEST BABY EVERRRR
It took him a while to hold your hand in public, not because he's embarrassed but again because he gets too flustered when you run your thumb up and down against the back of his hand,,, or when you play with his hands in general.
I MENTIONED THIS BEFORE IN FIC BUT HAMZAH IS AN EAR BLUSHER AND HE'S SO CUTE WAA
If you get on his lap and play with his hair while talking about random stuff, and you kiss him out of nowhere HE’LL SMILE THIS BIG SMILE AND COVER HIS EARS IM CRYINGGGGG HES SO CUTE
Speaking of kissing lololol
Hamzah’s kisses are SENSUAL, he takes his time and really makes sure you feel his love
Contrary to popular belief i feel like if you’re with hamzah for long enough his love language becomes physical touch
And i dont say that and mean ONLY kisses but hes such a cuddly person. HE NEEDS THAT TLC HES A BIG BOY
BUT. Big but! He is not the type of person to show affection publicly IM SORRYYY
Holding hands and hugging is fine but i think more intimate things he’d rather do in private…
Not because hes embarrassed as i said, he gets shy at other people perceiving that version of him especially since he isn’t ‘acting’ or ‘joking’
Also he feels like only you deserve to see him like this hehehe
His love language is quality time. Like actually.
His head on your chest, playing stardew valley on his ipad. You watching TV or reading while playing with his curls.
Another form of this is that he’ll ask you to be him and martins cameraman just to have you there with him
Or he’ll ask if you want to try a new coffee shop that opened down the street
He’s a man that likes to be around you 24/7
ALSO ALSO ALSO OMG OMG
HE WOULD SO FORCE YOU TO DO BACKGROUND VOCALS FOR SOME OF HIS MUSIC LIKE THE RAPPERS HE LIKES LMFAO
I dont wanna go on too long with this but one thing is for sure
You’re his princess for REAL treats you like ROYALTY lol
If you guys get into an argument. Even if you’re wrong, he ends up apologizing
“I shouldn’t have let it boil over to this anyway.”
10/10 boyfriend. Totally recommend.
NSFW
SISTA. I HAVE NEVER EVER THOUGHT I’D HAVE THE PLATFORM TO SHARE THESE THOUGHTS BUT I HAVE TO MAKE SURE YALL UNDERSTAND ONE THING!!!!
Hamzah is NAWT a boob or ass guy. HE LIKES BOTH EQUALLY. (He is secretly is ass-leaning tho LMFAO)
This is so funny but he totally is the type to smack your ass randomly when he walks by.
Do you get mad? Yes. Do you tell him to stop it? Yes. Does he stop? No. Do you secretly think it's kinda…? WELL YESSS
TWO WORDS. Boob squeezer.
I think from what we can understand so far. is that Hamzah is the handsy man. HIS HANDS ALWAYS SOMEWHERE LOL
sex drive is for sure high. and when i say high… ITS HIGHHH
Contrary to popular belief AGAIN.
Hamzah doesn’t partake in dirty talk much… not that he doesn't like it—he just wouldn’t in my opinion? It's not that he wouldn’t talk at all, but he is more of a heavy breathing, whimpering, moaning guy—pretty much more noises than actual words
Though as i said, he would talk sometimes, especially if he’s feeling really good, or his stamina is lasting him longer than he thought… he starts getting a little cocky
On the topic of dirty talk, if he does talk, 99.9% of it would be praising, i don't see him enjoying degrading unless you ask him to.. but he’ll be a little awkward about it LMFAOOO
Something like: “fuck, baby you’re taking me so good.”
(Unironically starts actually using good girl after a while of making it a joke btw)
Someone sent a request a few days ago and said “i feel like hamzah has a breeding kink” and why was i gagged?! NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT IT BUT YES, i feel like hes more into the thought filling u with *** then the thought of impregnating you if that makes any sense
Im talking too much… digital footprint go hard.
(A/N): this isnt proofread, i kinda braindumped but i had fun doing this!! Thank u anon for the request I HOPE U LOVE THIS CUTIE MWAAAAHH
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a-whiff-of-a-dream · 2 days ago
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alright this has been sitting in my mind ever since i first heard it a few days ago, but what Emmrich says about his fear of death in his first scene? It hit differently. Im gonna elaborate underneath the cut.
(also this might be too much personal info for some, but anyways)
'Thats when I discovered I possess a great terror of dying' is putting something I have felt for close to 3 years now so... precisely into words.
I have spend so much trying to find words for this feeling, for this fear, and have not yet managed to communicate it with anyone really so far, because the words have just... not been there.
'It goes beyond dread. It cant be reasoned with or soothed over. It comes without warning, in the dead of night, in sunlit streets. A raw, strangling fear, struck somewhere deep past the heart.'
It hides behind every corner of your life. You can go on with your day like any other person, you can be alone at home or out with friends, seeing the world, and suddenly youre hit with this 'someday it wont matter anymore and you wont feel this feeling and never smell the air again' and you cant outrun it.
Its something you cant change, something maybe not even worth mentioning because there is no way out anyways, so why bother and try to find a reason within it, when there is non to begin with?
'Oddly, I discovered I wasnt alone. I debated this fear with friends, I argued with teachers... Yet... It lingered.'
Others might feel the same, and yes its comforting to a degree, but still it wont make it go away. It wont make it better or unbearable somehow. Because its unreasonable. You know it is. Thats why Ive burried it so deep within me and try not to spiral into despair when these thoughts occure.
I am not really sure where I am heading with this but I guess I needed to get these thoughts out into the world somehow. Because hearing this, having it put into words so nicely? It helped. It made me shiver and it has lingered in my head for a while now, but it also gave me words for something I have not yet come around wording myself.
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manticore-fangs · 1 day ago
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feel like we all sleep on just how sexy schlatt with the ram horns is!! like holding onto them while he fucks you 😳 omgg doing it while standing he's just bouncing you on his dick so roughly all you can do is hold onto his horns for dear life and take it mmmmmm
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oohh boy... trust me im working on something.. but this is soo good i cant pass it up.
nsfw
schlatt says a fat fuckin' no to touching his horns and tail, unless.. if he's rutting, because if you scratch at the base of his horns or even just pet 'em he immediately gets horny as hell.. possibly starting his rut early if its close enough.
holy shit.. grabbing at the base of his horns while he fucks into you, his own hands digging into your hips while he thrusts his hips up, your moans bounce off the walls and he orgasms so fast when you scratch at the base, yeah you killed him.
him fucking you? while standing UP??? oh boy.. he has hips hands firmly planted on your ass, your thighs hugging his waist. he lets low rumbles and gravelly bleats. his tail wagging so fast with each thrust it would hurt if it smacked against you, his ears twitching.
"take it toots, just fuckin' take this shit. i know... shh.. i know, its t'much huh? well.. too fuckin' bad, you're gonna fuckin'. take. it." he punctuates the last three words with each thrust, making your legs twitch while your head is thrown back.
"enjoying this shit a bit too much? love havin' me ram into you so good that you cant even think. i mean- look at your face, i swear there's drool coming from your mouth- jesus toots. gonna fuckin' kill me." he says while your cunt clenches up on him.
the horn situation? your gonna have to probably have your legs spread. because boy oh boy. his horns are NOT stopping him from devouring you, no, no, no. if he has to he will trim down his horns just to devour your pussy.
i'd also like to mention that schlatt would love marking your clothes, pillows and sheets when he is in rut - marking you with him.
talking about schlatt trimming down his horns, he will ask you to trim them down because he doesn't buttheads with his other fellow ram hybrids.. because he doesn't meet with them often.
these are all my thoughts i can give rn
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outrunningthedark · 1 day ago
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Do you ever get that uncomfy feeling about fandom dissecting cast interviews and heavily interacting and sharing interactions? Like I ship (shipped? Put off by parasocialness and lfj love) bucktommy and buddie but the fandom is so offputting.
Like appreciating the cast ofc is fair and fun but I cant help but feel like, this broken wall of seperation makes finishing or reaolving the bucktommy break up less likely.
I think im overthinking a bit, but this buddie outrage, lfj sharing posts and interacting, people bashing OS about his wording, like the idea that in 8B. Tim and whoever thinks, okay they should come back. The idea of those actors having to interact after all this (in sone ways) overblown drama makes me cringe and i cant properly express why. Maybe its the lack of escapism?
I cant fully express my thoughts on this properly but i have agreeed with most of your posts on the subject. You articulate stuff well.
Dont mean to bash people that love to follow the cast closely but idk when i see it all blur on my page, i get so weirded out. Anyway ignore if this makes no sense or is irrelevant.
I do get what you're trying to say, and that's where the root of the issues with Oliver's behavior stems from. We, as a fandom, should not be able to *notice* when a particular cast member is being left out of cast moments behind the scenes. Yes, he was professional on set and got through his scenes, but the ONLY reason people have started to put two and two together re: his concerns over "backlash" is because of we just saw happen while Lou was on the show. Before, we could tell ourselves "Well maybe Oliver's just tired of these forced hetero relationships that will go nowhere". But now his character is canonically queer. And he chose not to acknowledge the story line outside of one post that got deleted and a couple of stories. (One of which was most definitely advised for good PR given how he recorded it on the fly - Bi Visibility Day). Viewers should have been able to watch the story line with NO preconceived notions of how anybody really felt. Viewers should have been able to feel sad about the break up without Oliver immediately jumping into a story about how HE TEXTS THE GUY WHO WROTE TOMMY OFF to let Buck go back to his 1.0 phase. Viewers should have been able to believe the guy who seemed so excited to celebrate his character's coming out sympathized with the disappointment. But because Oliver only worries about the hate HE receives, because Oliver puts HIS feelings first when telling a queer (potential) love story on tv, fandom is left to wonder whether he even liked the direction of Buck's story line, whether he actually DID have anything to do with Tommy get written off as quickly as he did. Fans look into things because Oliver leaves the door open.
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jungkooks-wife · 6 hours ago
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Forbidden Feelings
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paring: haechan x fem¡reader
synopsis: college student haechan who has a crush on his best friend mark lee’s sister. whom by the way is COMPLETELY off limits to his friends.
genre: smau
8. IM SORRY
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Later that evening, you sit at home, waiting. You’re anxious, pacing around and glancing at your phone every few minutes, wondering if this plan is actually going to work. And then there’s a loud knock on your door.
You open it, and there he is—Haechan, breathing hard, a look of worry on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, eyes scanning you as if to make sure you’re really fine.
You nod, your heart racing. “I’m fine. I… I needed to talk to you.”
He steps inside, closing the door behind him. There’s a long silence, and you can feel the tension in the air. Finally, you gather the courage to speak.
“Haechan, there’s nothing going on with Renjun,” you say softly. “I was only spending time with him because… I didn’t want to think about how I feel about you.”
He stares at you, the anger slowly melting away, replaced by something softer. “You like me?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.
You nod, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. “I do. And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I just… I needed you to know.”
Haechan lets out a small, shaky laugh. “I was mad because I thought you liked Renjun. And all this time… I’ve been feeling the same way about you.”
The relief that washes over you is overwhelming. You both laugh, the tension finally breaking, and you feel lighter than you have in days.
“So… what now?” you ask, looking up at him with a hopeful smile.
He smiles back, softer than you’ve ever seen. “How about we take things slow? I don’t want to rush this.”
You agree, feeling like everything finally makes sense. And as he pulls you into a hug, you know this was worth the wait.
You relax into Haechan’s hug, feeling his warmth around you. His arms wrap tighter, like he’s scared to let go, and for a while, neither of you says anything. It’s enough just to stand there, close, knowing everything that’s been unsaid for so long is finally out in the open.
When he pulls back, his eyes meet yours, searching. “I was so mad at you,” he admits softly. “It hurt watching you with him. I thought… I thought I wasn’t good enough, or that maybe you’d moved on.” He frowns, his fingers fidgeting at his side.
You shake your head quickly, reaching out to take his hand. “I tried to move on, but it wasn’t because of you. It was because I thought you’d never see me that way. I thought I’d always just be your best friend’s little sister.” You feel a small, nervous laugh escape your lips. “Turns out I was really, really wrong.”
He lets out a breathy laugh, his grip on your hand tightening. “You have no idea. Every time I saw you, I’d have to act like it didn’t bother me when other guys noticed you. And then Renjun? That hurt the most because he’s such a good guy. Part of me thought, if you were happy with him… I’d have to be okay with it.” He bites his lip, looking almost embarrassed by his confession. “But it drove me crazy.”
You nod, understanding completely. “Renjun… he’s just one of my friends now, I only want you.”
The words hang in the air, and for a moment, it’s as if the room has gotten smaller, quieter. Haechan’s eyes flicker to your lips, but he hesitates, catching himself. “If we’re going to do this, I don’t want to mess it up,” he says, almost to himself. “I want us to take things slow. No pretending, no misunderstandings.”
You nod, feeling a rush of excitement and nervousness all at once. “I want that too. I just want to know I’m not alone in this anymore.”
“You’re not.” He squeezes your hand, his voice full of certainty. “You’re not alone. We’ll figure this out together.”
The two of you sit down on your couch, and he keeps your hand in his, tracing small circles on your palm with his thumb. You start talking about everything, filling each other in on all the small details you’ve missed this week. He listens closely, genuinely interested, laughing when you joke and looking serious when you bring up the moments you felt hurt or ignored.
“Chenle’s plan really got me,” he admits with a smirk. “I thought something happened to you, and I didn’t even think twice—I just ran here.” He pauses, his expression growing softer. “I don’t ever want to go through that again. If something’s wrong, or if you’re feeling anything, just… tell me.”
You nod, a little overwhelmed by how open he’s being with you. “I promise. And you… you should do the same, Haechan. If I make you mad, tell me. Don’t just ignore me.”
“Deal.” He looks at you with a playful glint in his eyes. “But only if you call me Donghyuck sometimes. You’re one of the few people who gets to.”
You laugh, the sound filling the room, and he smiles, watching you with that soft gaze that makes your heart race. “Okay, Donghyuck,” you tease, testing his real name on your tongue.
He grins, clearly pleased, then hesitates. “Can I ask you something?”
You nod, curious.
“What would’ve happened if Chenle’s plan didn’t work? If I’d never come tonight?”
The thought makes you pause, feeling a pang of sadness at the idea. “I don’t know,” you say honestly. “Maybe I’d still be hiding my feelings, watching you from afar. Or maybe I’d just move on, pretending it didn’t hurt.”
“Well, I’m glad it worked,” he says, voice low and serious. “Because I don’t want to keep watching from afar anymore.”
You nod, feeling the same way. There’s a sense of relief and excitement in knowing you’ll go forward together. You stand to ask him a question, “donghyuck would you like to stay the night, it’s a bit late..”
“I’d love to” he answered confidently.
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zyafics-recs · 3 days ago
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reblogging comment review from @zyafics
it’s 6:47am and i went “why not” so here i am reading ⬇️
You were home.
PAUSE DID I MISS SOMETHING
Your father, with his disheveled hair and red-rimmed eyes, swung the bottle in his hand dangerously close to JJ’s head. Each wave of the bottle sent droplets of amber liquid flying, dotting the floor like gruesome confetti.
god this paragraph eats ur descriptions 🤌🏼 (the amber liquid, the droplets on the floor? yeahhh i know u ate with that)
It was Rafe.
ohmygod im spiraling right now
You felt a surge of nausea, your stomach churning with revulsion of yourself. The nightmare still clung to you, the vivid memories of his hands around your throat making it hard to reconcile the image of him sleeping so peacefully.
what if she runs away (i would eat that up🤭)
Sleeping around—no, not just sleeping, practically baring your soul to one of the people that had destroyed your life? That had taunted and beaten your brother? Your friends? That killed a cop and got away with it? The thoughts circled in your mind, relentless and unforgiving. The cool night air was a temporary relief, but it couldn’t wash away the shame eating you alive. How did it come to this? How did you go from hating Rafe to being tangled up with him like this? 
why am i so scared of the upcoming angst
Maybe you were holding on to the only person who managed to pull you out of Ward’s grasp, fooling yourself into finding some good in someone who had caused so much pain. 
stockholm syndrome (it’s not… i think)
Rafe's voice cut through the air, his tone urgent, "How the fuck did you not see her leave? Did someone take her?”
he’s so protective of her i’m so in love 💍
Rafe's head snapped up, his blue eyes widening in relief as he caught sight of you. "Thank God," he breathed, his shoulders visibly relaxing, “Fucking hell, Maybank.”
THE FUCKING BUTTERFLIES 🦋
His arms were around you in an instant, his warmth enveloping you. His hands rested gently on your back; fingers splayed wide. For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace for the last time, the tension in your shoulders easing ever so slightly. Barely looking at him, you pushed him away, your movements sharp. His hands fell away from you, confusion flickering across his features like a shadow passing over the sun. The hurt in his eyes cut through you like a punch, but you couldn’t bring yourself to dwell on it.
STOP STOP STOP
You hated the fact you could pinpoint the sincerity in his voice so easily. It nearly killed you. 
LET HIM IN PLS 🛐🛐
“It was a mistake.”
i’m actually holding my breath pls gigi let me breathe 😭😭😭
Rafe could act cold and stoic all he wanted; you could hear the hurt in his voice and sense the sadness in the words. He sounded broken.
"You're angry,” Your mouth ran dry, your heart lurching into your throat. "I’m sorry.”
"Sorry?" he seethed, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, "Angry? You think you mean enough to me to make me angry?"
SHUT UP RAFE
“Stop it,” Your voice broke a little, fighting the waterworks that were threatening to run down your cheeks, “Stop making it sound like it meant nothing to you.”
no bc i would lose it in that room (absolutely go kill bill or disney princess cry idk yet)
“And whose fault is that? Hmm? You said you didn’t want to stop. You wanted it, you wanted me.”
You staggered back, feeling as if the ground beneath your feet was shifting, uncertain, and unsteady.
"I wanted it," Rafe repeated, fingers digging into his chest, his voice raw with emotion, "I wanted you."
the way my stomach rolled oh my god u r incredible at creating emotions
The anger that had driven him was gone, replaced by a hollow, almost haunted look
love the description of haunted had to take a sec to think what that is
He finally looked at you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a mix of pain and regret. “I... I couldn’t stay away,” he slurred, his words thick with the effects of too much alcohol. “I tried, but...”
RAFE MY ANNOYINGLY POOR BABY
“It’s not, Maybank. I’ve done enough damage for a lifetime. It’s the reason why you’re sleeping on the other side of the bed instead of right next to me.”
actually stop hurting me pls and thank u
It took you hours to fall asleep. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the events of the past weeks replaying in your mind. You thought of Rafe, of the hurt in his eyes, the way he had looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. 
THE ONLY THING KEEPING HIM TETHERED TO REALITY STFU UP
Rafe’s gaze flicked to you as if he was memorizing your features, from your eyes down to your lips. You could see the gears turning inside his brain and it made you sick to your stomach when he took a deep breath, his eyes hardening with resolve, “Run.”
STOP MY HEART IS RACING 🫨
Without thinking, you ran to Rafe, your heart pounding with fear and relief. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and gently pulled you back, his eyes searching yours to make sure you were okay, but before you could assure him you were fine, he kissed you. His lips pressed firmly against yours, and you felt his tongue gently parting your lips, exploring with a tenderness that made your knees weak. It felt so…real, it nearly brought you to your knees. As cheesy as it sounded, it felt like time stood still for you, the rest of the world ceasing to exist. 
ITS LIKE A CRIMINAL LOVE STORY PLS 😭
“Baby, you—“ he coughed, blood seeping through his teeth, "You gotta go home.”
STOP STOP STOP STOP
“I’m not leaving without him,” You made the mistake to glance back one last time, your heart breaking as you saw Rafe's eyes close, his body slumping against the ground, “No, no, no! Keep your eyes open, I swear to god—” Your hands trembled as you tried to staunch the flow of blood with your already stained clothing, "Stay with me," you pleaded, your voice cracking. 
i’m actually gonna kill u gigi u have no idea
As you were led out of the police station and into a waiting car, your mind raced with thoughts of him, lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life, by himself. You couldn't bear the thought of him waking up alone, without knowing that you were there for him.
If he ever woke up.
for once in ur life i need u to be crazy and jump the car
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
FINAL THOUGHTS | omg. OHMYGOD??? okay one thing i absolutely love about this chapter is your emotional development and connection. the way that reader had to pull back because of her nightmare, because of what it means to be with rafe in the real world, the way she withdraws from him and it hurts him until they get to that argument. and that ARGUMENT; rafe being vulnerable while also pushing back, while also being sharp and anger? that PIERCED MY SOUL because u did it so well i actually held my breath and stopped breathing and just stared at how well u managed to capture emotional moments without exaggerating it. then then, him looking at her face trying to memorize her features before telling her to run? to kissing her because he couldn’t stand it anymore? screaming. AND THEN HE GOT FUCKING SHOT?? i saw spoilers that he got shot but i was so wrapped in the story i FORGOT 😭 it literally took me out 😭😭😭 I NEED HER TO JUMP OUT THE COP CAR OR SOMETHING PLS STAY WITH HIM 😭
THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - four
request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"
warnings: angst; gun violence; blood;
word count: 7.1k
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You woke up confused staring at the oddly familiar ceiling, filled with posters ripped from the old magazines you’d gotten at a second-hand store. When you were sixteen is sounded like a great edgy idea. 
You were home.
What the—? How? 
Sitting up, the room felt stifling, the air thick with the stale smell of old wood and the faintest hint of your father’s cigarette smoke, a scent you had hoped never to encounter again. The heavy feeling in your chest wasn’t just the dread of being back; it was the oppressive memories flooding back, threatening to drown you.
The sound of a muffled argument seeped through the thin walls, pulling you back to the present.
Your heart pounded in your ears as you recognized the angry, slurred voice of your father.
He was shouting at someone, probably your brother, just like he used to. The familiar clinking of bottles and the crash of something being thrown sent a shiver down your spine.
No. This wasn't real. This couldn’t be real.
You swung your legs over the side of the bed, feeling the rough carpet under your feet, grounding yourself in the moment. You stood up shakily, each step toward the door feeling heavier than the last. The hallway stretched out before you, longer than it should have been, and the flickering light cast eerie shadows on the peeling wallpaper.
As you approached the living room, the noise grew louder, more distinct. Your father’s voice, filled with venom and rage, cut through you like a knife. You reached the doorway and peered in, your breath catching in your throat. There he was, towering over your JJ, his face twisted in anger. Your little brother was cowering, trying to make himself as small as possible, his eyes filled with fear. The scene was a haunting echo of so many nights you’d tried to forget.
“No,” you whispered, fear and anger bubbling up inside you. “This isn’t happening.”
But it was.
Your father, with his disheveled hair and red-rimmed eyes, swung the bottle in his hand dangerously close to JJ’s head. Each wave of the bottle sent droplets of amber liquid flying, dotting the floor like gruesome confetti. JJ flinched with every movement, tears streaming down his cheeks, and the sight made your heart ache.
“Get out of my sight, you worthless—” your father roared, his voice a terrifying growl.
“No!” you screamed, stepping into the room before you even realized you were moving. “Stop it!”
Your father turned, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as they focused on you. For a moment, there was a flicker of confusion, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were standing there.
Then, recognition set in, and his scowl deepened.
“You,” he spat, the word laced with bitterness. “You think you can just walk back in here and tell me what to do?”
The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in, suffocating. But you couldn’t back down, not now. Not ever again.
“Leave him alone,” you said, your voice trembling, “He’s a child!”
Your father took a menacing step toward you, the bottle still clutched in his hand. “You’ve got some nerve, coming back here and talking to me like that. Looking exactly like her!”
Every instinct screamed at you to run, but you stood your ground. “I’m not afraid of you Luke,” you lied, your voice barely above a whisper.
His eyes flashed with anger, and he raised the bottle, ready to strike. You braced yourself, every muscle tensed, waiting for the blow.
“Dad, please!” JJ’s voice broke through the tension, small and desperate. 
“Don’t hurt her.”
The plea hung in the air, a fragile thread that seemed to hold back the storm for just a moment. Your father’s hand wavered, his eyes darting between you and JJ.
Then, with a roar of frustration, he threw the bottle against the wall, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. The crash echoed through the house, a final, violent punctuation to the nightmare unfolding around you.
“You’re a coward, you know that? Hitting on your own children. You’re trash.” you spat out, the words flying from your mouth before you could stop them.
His face twisted, “What did you say to me?” He lunged at you, his hands going straight for your throat. Fear surged through you as his fingers tightened, cutting off your air supply. Your hands flew up to try and pry his grip loose, but he was too strong, too relentless, too driven.
Black spots began to dance at the edges of your vision. You struggled, gasping for breath, but his grip only tightened. The room started to spin, and just as you thought you might pass out, his face began to shift, blurring and changing. You blinked, trying to clear your vision, and when you opened your eyes again, it was no longer your father choking you.
It was Rafe.
Rafe's face, with a sickening grin, loomed over you. His eyes, filled with a cold, calculating malice, bore into yours. “You thought I’d be any different?” he sneered. “You signed your death sentence, pogue.”
The terror was overwhelming, a wave of cold dread washing over you. 
Your heart pounded frantically against your ribs, but you couldn’t scream, couldn’t call for help. His grip was like iron, unyielding and merciless.
You fought against him with all your strength, but it felt like trying to move through quicksand. Every movement was sluggish, every attempt to break free met with resistance. The walls around you seemed to close in, the room becoming a claustrophobic prison.
As the edges of your vision began to fade, a new sound cut through the suffocating haze – JJ’s voice, calling your name. “Sis! Please, wake up! Wake up!”
With a final, desperate burst of energy, you tore yourself away from Rafe, his grip suddenly gone. You were falling, tumbling through darkness, and then–
You jolted awake, gasping for breath, your body drenched in sweat. The familiar ceiling of the motel room came into focus. The terror of the nightmare clung to you, and it made it hard to breathe.
Your hands went to your throat, feeling for bruises that weren’t there. It was just a dream, you told yourself, trying to calm your racing heart. Just a nightmare.
As your breath began to steady, you turned your head, feeling the sheets rustle against your skin.
The dim light of the room cast long shadows, and your heart sank when you saw Rafe lying next to you, his chest rising and falling in a deep, peaceful slumber. He was naked, his body partially covered by the sheets, a stark reminder of what you’d done hours ago.
You felt a surge of nausea, your stomach churning with revulsion of yourself. The nightmare still clung to you, the vivid memories of his hands around your throat making it hard to reconcile the image of him sleeping so peacefully. You quietly slipped out of bed, trying not to wake him, and grabbed your clothes, dressing quickly.
Standing in the small bathroom, you splashed cold water on your face, trying to wash away the remnants of the dream. The coolness against your skin brought a brief sense of clarity, but it didn’t banish the lingering sense of dread. You looked at yourself in the mirror, your reflection pale and haunted.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You had to get out of here, clear your head, and figure out what to do next. Slipping out of the bathroom, you grabbed your keys from the nightstand, sneaking one last look at Rafe. He was still asleep, completely unaware of the fear inside you.
The motel hallway was dark and quiet, with the faint hum of the vending machine being the only noise. You made your way to the exit, and the cool night air hit you like a splash of reality. It felt like you were stepping out of one world and into another, the contrast so stark and jarring. 
You took a few more steps, but your vision blurred, and you felt lightheaded. You slumped against the wall, struggling to catch your breath.
The panic attack hit you full force, your chest tightening, and your mind racing. You couldn't let Rafe see you like this. You couldn't let anyone see you like this. You sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to focus on something, anything, to calm yourself down. You started counting your breaths, focusing on each inhale and exhale, trying to slow your racing heart. You thought of JJ, of how much he needed you to be strong. You couldn't fall apart now, not when there was so much at stake.
You kept counting, kept breathing, the cool air helping to clear your head. Slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease. The world started to come back into focus, the shadows in the hallway retreating.
You wiped away the tears that had slipped down your cheeks and stood up, feeling a little more in control.
Sleeping around—no, not just sleeping, practically baring your soul to one of the people that had destroyed your life? That had taunted and beaten your brother? Your friends? That killed a cop and got away with it? The thoughts circled in your mind, relentless and unforgiving. The cool night air was a temporary relief, but it couldn’t wash away the shame eating you alive. How did it come to this? How did you go from hating Rafe to being tangled up with him like this? 
You thought of JJ, of your friends, the people who had been there for you through everything. They’d never understand.
Hell, you didn’t even understand it yourself. You stopped and leaned against a lamppost, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. You had to sort through this mess, had to figure out what was real and what was just the lingering effects of captivity and longing. Maybe you were holding on to the only person who managed to pull you out of Ward’s grasp, fooling yourself into finding some good in someone who had caused so much pain. 
An hour later, you made your way back to the motel. Each step felt like a struggle, the guilt and self-doubt threatening to consume you entirely. You couldn't shake the feeling that you'd betrayed everything you stood for by letting Rafe into your life, even if it was just for a moment of weakness.
As you approached the entrance, you saw him standing at the front desk, looking worried and disheveled. He must have just woken up, throwing on some shorts in a hurry. His expression was tense as he spoke to the front desk guy, hands moving rapidly, gesturing around. 
Your pulse pounded as you walked in, not sure of what to say, what to do, how to approach him. The memory of the nightmare still lingered, haunting you like a specter refusing to be exorcised.
Rafe's voice cut through the air, his tone urgent, "How the fuck did you not see her leave? Did someone take her?”
The front desk guy shook his head, his expression apologetic. "I apologize sir, but I haven't seen anyone come through here."
With a deep breath, you stepped forward, revealing yourself to him. "I'm here," you said quietly, voice rough from not speaking since you woke up.
Rafe's head snapped up, his blue eyes widening in relief as he caught sight of you. "Thank God," he breathed, his shoulders visibly relaxing, “Fucking hell, Maybank.”
His arms were around you in an instant, his warmth enveloping you. His hands rested gently on your back; fingers splayed wide. For a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his embrace for the last time, the tension in your shoulders easing ever so slightly. Barely looking at him, you pushed him away, your movements sharp. His hands fell away from you, confusion flickering across his features like a shadow passing over the sun. The hurt in his eyes cut through you like a punch, but you couldn’t bring yourself to dwell on it.
You took a step back, putting some distance between you and Rafe, needing the space to breathe, to think, to figure out what comes next.
Your gaze flickered to the floor, unable to meet his eyes, unable to face the consequences of your actions, "Just needed some air," you muttered, your voice barely audible even to yourself, “Sorry for not leaving a note.”
Rafe's expression shifted from relief to concern as he watched you, his brows furrowing with worry.
"You okay?"
You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his gaze, "I'm fine," you replied, your voice lacking conviction even to your own ears. "Just felt a little nauseous.”
His hand reached out tentatively as if he wanted to comfort you, but he hesitated, letting it fall back to his side. “I just woke up and you were gone, and I...I panicked."
You hated the fact you could pinpoint the sincerity in his voice so easily. It nearly killed you. 
“We should go back.”
"Will you... will you be okay?" he asked, his voice hesitant.
You nodded, trying to muster up a reassuring smile, but it felt hollow and insincere. "I'll be fine," you lied, the words tasted bitter on your tongue, “Just need some rest.”
“Okay. Okay, yeah, let’s go back.”
As you stepped inside the room, the early sunlight washed over Rafe's face, highlighting the worry etched into his features. He watched you carefully, as if afraid you would’ve disappeared again at any moment. He tried to reach out and grab your arm, but you moved too quickly, and he was left grasping air.
You offered him a weak smile, ignoring the look on his face, "I'm sorry for leaving like that," you said, your voice tinged with genuine regret. "I’m fine.”
You didn’t think he believed you. He was watching you so closely. He took in how disheveled you looked. The mess of your hair, and barely laced-up shoes so you could get out the door faster. Rafe’s eyes pierce into your own, searching them for something as he took a deep breath to calm himself.
It took several tense moments before he finally spoke, “Is this about last night?”
Your body froze, panic taking over every single one of your muscles. What were you supposed to tell him? Lie? Tell him the truth and make him hate himself even more? Keep your pain down to hold his?
“It was a mistake.”
You went straight to the chase.
He stalked closer to you, and you took a step back reflexively, “A mistake?” he echoed between labored breaths, “A mistake?”
“Yeah," you stammered, trying to articulate your thoughts, "It's not right. We, we're just lonely."
You despised yourself for even hinting at it, but the tumultuous month spent with him had been bewildering, to say the least. You questioned whether you were truly good for each other.
"I thought..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.
The pain in his voice pierced your skin, a reminder of the consequences of your actions. But you needed to put yourself first.
“I’m sorry.”
Rafe's face contorted, his features tightening into a mask of disbelief. And you couldn’t blame him for whatever he was about to unleash on you.
“So, what? You're just gonna walk away?" He tried to bark, but his voice quivered from grief, “Stop looking at me?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” He scoffed, lips twisting into a sneer, as he started to pace around the room, his movements restless and agitated. “That’s funny.”
Rafe could act cold and stoic all he wanted; you could hear the hurt in your voice and sense the sadness in the words. He sounded broken.
"You're angry,” Your mouth ran dry, your heart lurching into your throat. "I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” he seethed, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, “Angry? You think you mean enough to me to make me angry?”
His words struck you like a physical blow, a slap to the face. You recoiled instinctively, the weight of his fury bearing down on you. 
"I don't know what I mean to you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I just know that I can't keep doing this."
Rafe's laughter was bitter and mocking, a harsh sound that echoed off the walls of the room.
"Can't keep doing this?" he repeated, his voice laced with derision. "And what, exactly, is 'this'? Fucking? You can’t even say it.”
“You’re being an asshole.”
"An asshole?" he spat, "Is that what you think of me?"
You held his gaze, refusing to back down despite the hurting coursing through your veins. "You're acting like one.”
“Maybank,” His voice was still harsh as he lowered his head to try and meet your eyes. He was close enough that you were able to smell him, "You don't know anything about me, remember? Maybe the fucking really did confuse you.”
“Stop it,” Your voice broke a little, fighting the waterworks that were threatening to run down your cheeks, “Stop making it sound like it meant nothing to you.”
His eyes shut tightly, “Why are you doing this?”
“Because it’s wrong! Rafe—don’t you see it? I can’t do this, not with you of all fucking people, okay?”
He looked down at the carpet, a look of shame falling over his features as he ran a hand over his face, “You knew who I was since the beginning.”
You felt a surge of frustration rising within you, mingling with the anguish that threatened to overwhelm your senses. "Yeah, and every time I look at you now, I see everything that's wrong with me."
“And whose fault is that? Hmm? You said you didn’t want to stop. You wanted it, you wanted me.”
You staggered back, feeling as if the ground beneath your feet was shifting, uncertain, and unsteady.
"I wanted it," Rafe repeated, fingers digging into his chest, his voice raw with emotion, "I wanted you."
The admission hung in the air between you, everything left unsaid. You wanted to reach out to him, hug him as you had just hours ago, but you knew you couldn’t.
“We can’t.”
His eyes were slightly dewy, a somewhat defeated look to his gaze as he walked towards the door.
“Well, congrats Maybank. You won.”
The sound of the door slamming echoed through the room, the finality of it hitting you like a punch to the gut. You stood there, motionless, as the silence enveloped you. The weight of everything that had just transpired pressed down on your shoulders, threatening to crush you.
You sank to the floor, your back against the wall, and the tears came in a torrent. Sobs wracked your body, each one more painful than the last, as the reality of your situation washed over you. You had pushed him away, and hurt him, but what other choice did you have? 
The quiet was almost eerie. 
You couldn't deny that you had felt something for Rafe, something more than just anger and resentment.
But it was twisted, born out of shared trauma and desperation, wasn’t it? Wiping your tear-streaked face with trembling hands, you tried to gather yourself. You still needed to get home. In five days. How the fuck were you going to live in the same room with Rafe for five days after what went down? You couldn’t, you needed the money to pay off the men taking you back home.
You sat on the motel room floor for what felt like hours, the silence pressing in on you.
The weight of your words, of the confrontation, was suffocating. Eventually, exhaustion won out, and you crawled into bed, your mind too restless to allow for more than fitful dozing.
It was around 4 a.m. when the door to the motel room creaked open, startling you awake. You sat up, your heart pounding, straining to see in the dark. The figure that stumbled through the door was unmistakable: Rafe. His movements were unsteady, his clothes disheveled, and the sharp scent of alcohol hit you even from across the room.
“Rafe?”
He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned heavily against the doorframe, his eyes unfocused. He looked lost.
The anger that had driven him was gone, replaced by a hollow, almost haunted look. You had done that to him. You got out of bed, approaching him cautiously.
“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice tinged with worry.
He finally looked at you, his eyes bloodshot and filled with a mix of pain and regret. “I... I couldn’t stay away,” he slurred, his words thick with the effects of too much alcohol. “I tried, but...”
You sighed, the concern battling within you.
“Rafe, you’re drunk. You need to sit down.”
He let you guide him to the bed, his body heavy and uncooperative. Once he was seated, you grabbed a bottle of water from the small table and handed it to him.
“Drink this,” you instructed.
He took a sip, his hands shaking slightly. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, staring down at the floor. “For everything.”
It was the first time he ever apologized to you. You didn’t know what to say. Part of you wanted to comfort him, to tell him it was okay, but another part of you was still reeling from the emotional whirlwind of the past few days. 
“You need to sleep this off,” you said instead, trying to keep your voice steady.
He nodded but didn’t move. Instead, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours. “I don’t want to be like him,” he confessed, “I can't."
If you allowed him to keep sputtering out his drunken thoughts you would’ve ended up crying your eyes out again, so instead you squeezed his hand, “Let’s just sleep, okay?”
He nodded again, his eyes drifting shut as the exhaustion and alcohol finally took their toll. You helped him lie down, covering him with the sheets. As you laid back down, you watched Rafe’s breathing even out, his face softening in sleep. 
The next few days passed in a blur of tension and silence. That night?
It never happened.
Rafe didn’t spare you a glance from the moment he woke up, choosing to care for his hangover by himself. You and he moved around each other like ghosts, the motel room becoming a prison. You barely slept, the nightmares coming back with a vengeance, leaving you exhausted and on edge.
Every time you closed your eyes, you saw your father, Rafe, or the haunting echoes of your past, blending into a relentless cycle of fear and regret. You knew he’d been having nightmares as well, but you pretended to be asleep every time he woke up, chest heaving. 
He seemed so caught in his torment. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw, the way his hands would flex into fists and then relax as if he was battling some inner demon. He avoided you, constantly, and when he did speak, his words were clipped and distant. Your shared meals were silent, the clinking of cutlery the only sound breaking the oppressive quiet. 
Even the TV stayed off.
On the fifth night, you lay awake in the dark, listening to the rhythm of Rafe's breathing from the other bed. It was uneven, indicating he was also awake. 
“You’re not gonna end up like him.”
Rafe's breathing hitched, and you could almost feel his eyes on you through the darkness.
"I mean it," you continued, turning slightly to face his silhouette. "You're not your father, Rafe."
He didn't respond immediately, but you sensed a shift in the atmosphere, a subtle change in his posture. Finally, he sighed, the sound heavy and laden with years of unspoken fears and insecurities.
"How can you be so sure?" he murmured, his voice raw.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Because I've seen you. I've seen the parts of you that fight against becoming him. The parts that want to be better. And that matters."
He let out a bitter laugh. "I'm not sure it’s enough.”
“It is.”
“It’s not, Maybank. I’ve done enough damage for a lifetime. It’s the reason why you’re sleeping on the other side of the bed instead of right next to me.”
You wanted to reach out, to reassure him that he wasn’t alone, but you knew it wasn’t that simple. 
“I’m still here,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I’m not leaving.”
“You already did.”
Ouch.
Before you could utter a single word, he turned his back to you.
“We’re leaving tomorrow. Sleep.”
“Rafe—”
“Goodnight.”
It took you hours to fall asleep. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the events of the past weeks replaying in your mind. You thought of Rafe, of the hurt in his eyes, the way he had looked at you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. 
The next morning, you didn’t bother much with packing, only shoving the pieces of clothing you’d collected in a backpack. It felt torturous, to be so close to Rafe yet so far away. He didn’t speak a word as he packed his things, his movements stiff and mechanical. You wanted to break the silence, but every time you opened your mouth, the words seemed to stick in your throat. The taxi drive to the port was just as unbearable. You stared out the window, watching the landscape blur past, your mind racing with thoughts of what could have been, what should have been. 
Once you arrived, you and Rafe stepped out, the silence between you as impenetrable as ever. The boat that would take you both back home loomed ahead. He took the lead, heading towards the ticket booth with his shoulders hunched, and you followed, your steps heavy with reluctance.
You were still scared shitless of those men. They were only helping you because at some point Rafe had helped them smuggle drugs into the States, and that did not leave you the least bit reassured over their intentions. 
Finding a spot on the deck, you both settled into a tense silence, the hum of the boat’s engine and the cries of seagulls filling the void between you. The sun was beginning to rise, casting a golden hue over the water, but the beauty of the scene did little to ease the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.
He leaned against the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon, his face a mask void of any emotion.
You watched him for a moment, torn between wanting to reach out to him and the fear that doing so would only make things worse.
Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, you cleared your throat. “Rafe,” you began hesitantly, “I—”
Before you could finish, he turned to you, his expression weary. “We don’t have to talk about it,” he said, his voice flat. “Not now.”
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Okay.”
“Just stay low, stay quiet. My dad got eyes everywhere.”
From the corner of your eye you spotted one of the men. Tall, burly, with a scar running down his cheek. He simply nodded towards the cargo boat and for a minute you’re taken back to your first day stuck with the Cameron’s, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.
Rafe walked in front of you again, entering the ship, rounding his way through the halls behind the sketchy guy, only stopping when he knocked on a door, after a moment, it swung open to reveal a bald shot man, eyes way too big for his face, which flicked over you and Rafe, a predatory smile curling his lips.
“Well, well, look who decided to show up,” he drawled, his voice laced with mockery. “You’re late.”
“Had some complications,” Rafe replied curtly, his posture tense.
The man’s smile widened. “Complications, huh? Well, come on in”
You followed Rafe inside, your heart racing. The interior of the room was pretty dark, the air thick with the smell of smoke and something you couldn’t quite identify. Nor did you want to. 
“Rafe,” the older man said, his voice cold and commanding. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about our arrangement.”
“Never,” Rafe replied, his tone clipped. “I brought the money.”
He handed over a thick envelope, and the man behind the desk took it, flipping through the bills with a practiced eye. After a moment, he nodded, satisfied.
“Good,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Now, let’s discuss the other part of our deal.”
Rafe stiffened. “I told you, I’m out. I’m not running anything for you anymore.”
The man’s eyes narrowed, his smile turning dangerous. “I don’t think you understand. You don’t get to just walk away.”
You felt a chill run down your spine as the tension in the room escalated. The man behind the desk stood up, his gaze shifting to you.
“And who’s this?” he asked, his tone menacing.
“No one,” Rafe said quickly. “She has nothing to do with this.”
The man chuckled, a low, sinister sound. “Oh, I think she has everything to do with this.”
He took a step towards you, and instinctively, you backed away, your heart pounding in your chest. Rafe moved to place himself between you and the older man, his jaw clenched.
“Leave her out of this.”
“You see, your daddy dearest called in last night. Told me about a loose piece he had to get rid off…a pretty one. Guess this is her?”
"That's none of your business," Rafe growled, his voice filled with a warning, body still shielding yours.
The older man laughed, the sound grating against your nerves. "Oh, but it is my business, Rafe. You see, your daddy and I, we go way back. And when he asks for a favor, I don't say no."
You felt a surge of terror at his words, your mind racing to find a way out of this situation. "Rafe, we need to go," you whispered urgently, tugging on his arm.
He didn't move, his eyes locked on the man before him. "We're leaving," Rafe said firmly, his voice unwavering. "Now."
The man smirked, his gaze shifting between you and Rafe. "You think you can just walk out of here? You're in deep, Cameron. And now, so is she."
Rafe's jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists. "We're not doing this.”
The older man took a step closer, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent. 
"You have two choices, Rafe. You either do as I say, or she pays the price like Ward asked.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, fear coursing through your veins. You couldn't let Rafe get pulled back into this world, but you also couldn't bear the thought of what might happen if you stayed.
"Rafe, please," you pleaded, your voice trembling.
Rafe’s gaze flicked to you as if he was memorizing your features, from your eyes down to your lips. You could see the gears turning inside his brain and it made you sick to your stomach when he took a deep breath, his eyes hardening with resolve, “Run.”
Before you could process his words, Rafe launched himself at the older man, tackling him to the ground. The suddenness of the movement caught everyone off guard, but you knew you had to act quickly. Heart pounding, you turned and bolted out of the room, dropping your backpack in the process, your footsteps echoing down the dimly lit corridor.
Behind you, you could hear the sounds of struggle—grunts, crashes, and the thud of bodies hitting the floor. You didn’t dare look back, knowing that every second counted. Rafe had told you to run.
The ship's layout was confusing, with identical-looking hallways and doors leading to who-knew-where. You sprinted through the maze of metal and dim lights, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The distant sound of shouting and commotion indicated that the fight was far from over. You turned a corner and collided with one of the burly men from earlier. He grabbed your arm, his grip like a vise.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he snarled.
Panic surged through you, but you fought it down, remembering the self-defense moves Rafe had taught you back at Ward’s island. You stomped on his foot and jabbed your elbow into his ribs, wrenching your arm free as he grunted in pain. Without wasting a second, you continued running, your legs burning with effort.
You burst onto the deck, the cold, salty air hitting you like a slap. The early morning light was just beginning to brighten the horizon, casting long shadows across the deck. You looked around frantically, searching for any means of escape. Your eyes landed on a lifeboat secured to the side of the ship. Without hesitation, you made your way towards it, fumbling with the ropes that held it in place. Your fingers were shaking, but you managed to free the boat. As you were about to lower it into the water, a rough hand grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. It was the man with the scar, his face twisted in anger.
“Going somewhere?” he sneered.
You tried to fight him off, but he was too strong.
Just when you thought all hope was lost, a loud bang echoed across the deck. The man with the scar froze, his grip loosening. You took the opportunity to break free, scrambling away from him.
Rafe stood at the entrance to the deck, a gun in his hand and determination in his eyes. The man with the scar raised his hands slowly, backing away.
“You okay?” Rafe asked, his voice tight with concern.
“I think so.”
“Come here.”
Without thinking, you ran to Rafe, your heart pounding with fear and relief. His arms wrapped around you tightly, and gently pulled you back, his eyes searching yours to make sure you were okay, but before you could assure him you were fine, he kissed you. His lips pressed firmly against yours, and you felt his tongue gently parting your lips, exploring with a tenderness that made your knees weak. It felt so…real, it nearly brought you to your knees. As cheesy as it sounded, it felt like time stood still for you, the rest of the world ceasing to exist. 
Until reality broke you again.
Rafe's body tensed suddenly. You heard a muffled sound, like a distant pop, but it took a moment for your mind to register what had happened. His grip on you loosened, and he staggered, his breath hitching in pain.
No, no, no, no.
"Rafe?” You caught him as he fell to his knees, eyes darting around, searching for the source of the shot. Your eyes nearly popped out of your head as you watched a showdown between the so-called human traffickers and the fucking police. This had to be a fucking nightmare, no way, were you getting caught in a crossfire. 
Rafe clutched his side, blood seeping through his fingers, staining his white shirt. His face was scarily pale, and he struggled to stay upright.
"You need to...get out of here," he managed to say, his voice strained, “Right now.”
“I’m not leaving you, you fuckin—Shit, Rafe. Fuck!” You looked around frantically, your heart pounding in your chest. The island, which had seemed like a safe haven moments ago, now felt like a trap. "Can you walk?" you asked, trying to keep the panic from your voice.
“Does it look like I can walk, pretty Maybank?”
A sob broke through you, “Don’t try to be fucking funny, you got shot!”
“Baby, you—“ he coughed, blood seeping through his teeth, "You gotta go home.”
"Stop talking!" you repeated, your voice trembling with desperation. You looked around again, trying to find a way out, a way to save him, anything. But the chaos around you was overwhelming. The police and the traffickers were engaged in a fierce shootout, bullets whizzing through the air, ricocheting off metal, and splintering wood.
Rafe's hand tightened weakly around yours.
"Listen to me," he said, his voice just a whisper. "You have to...Go gome."
Tears streamed down your face as you shook your head. "I can't leave you here."
You knew you had to move, had to find help, but leaving him there felt like tearing your heart out. As you turned to peek around one final time, you heard a shout from behind you. "Freeze!" a police officer yelled, his gun trained on you.
You stopped, your hands raised, your mind racing. "Please, help him," you begged, pointing to Rafe. "He's been shot."
The officer's eyes flicked to Rafe, then back to you. "We need to secure the area first," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.
"Please," you repeated, your voice breaking. "He's dying."
The officer hesitated, then spoke into his radio. "Officer down, need medical assistance immediately."
Another officer approached, his gun drawn, and you saw his gaze soften as he took in Rafe's condition. "We'll get him help," he assured you, "but we need to get you out of here safely."
“I’m not leaving without him,” You made the mistake to glance back one last time, your heart breaking as you saw Rafe's eyes close, his body slumping against the ground, “No, no, no! Keep your eyes open, I swear to god—” Your hands trembled as you tried to staunch the flow of blood with your already stained clothing, "Stay with me," you pleaded, your voice cracking. 
His eyes fluttered open briefly, a weak smile touching his lips.
"You... have to... go," he whispered, his breath coming in shallow gasps, "Go."
Before you could respond, you felt strong hands grip your shoulders, pulling you back. "We need to get you to safety," one of the officers said firmly, trying to drag you away from Rafe.
"No! Let me go! I can't leave him!" you screamed, fighting against their hold.
"Ma'am, we need to get you out of the line of fire," the officer insisted, his grip tightening as he pulled you to your feet.
Through your tears, you saw more officers surrounding Rafe, their voices urgent as they called for medical assistance. You watched helplessly as they began to administer first aid, their movements efficient but hurried. As the officers dragged you away against your will, your eyes never left Rafe. 
You struggled against their hold, but their grip was unyielding. "Please, don't let him die," you sobbed, your voice breaking with despair.
"We're doing everything we can," one of the officers reassured you, guiding you towards the edge of the deck where a police boat was waiting.
You stumbled, your legs weak with fear and exhaustion, but the officers held you steady. As you were helped onto the police boat, you turned back one last time, your heart breaking at the sight of Rafe lying on the deck, surrounded by officers and paramedics. You clutched the railing, your knuckles white, as the boat pulled away from the ship, the distance between you and Rafe growing with each passing second.
The journey back to shore was a blur of sirens, flashing lights, and the distant sound of helicopter blades cutting through the air. The police officers tried to reassure you, but their words were lost in the whirlwind of your thoughts.
When the boat finally docked, you were met by a flurry of activity. Paramedics rushed forward, checking you for injuries, while police officers asked you questions about what had happened. You answered them mechanically, your mind still focused on Rafe, praying that he would survive. Hours seemed to pass in a haze of questions, medical checks, and statements. You told them everything. Finally, you were allowed to sit down, your body heavy with exhaustion. A police officer approached you, his expression kind but serious.
"Rafe Cameron is being taken to the hospital," he said gently. "He's in critical condition, but the paramedics are doing everything they can."
You nodded numbly, the weight of his words pressing down on you. "Can I see him?"
“’No visitors will be allowed, kid. We checked your backgrounds. If he survives, he’ll be taken into custody, his father is Ward Cameron, the feds are going to need him.”
You nearly threw up at how easily he said, “if he survives”. There couldn’t be no fucking ifs, he wasn’t dying. Not like this. Not after everything. 
Your knees buckled, and you had to sit down, the reality of the situation pressing down on you like a ton of bricks. The officer helped you to a bench, his face sympathetic but firm. “I understand this is hard, but we need to follow protocol. He’s a key witness and suspect in multiple ongoing investigations.”
You nodded, your mind barely processing his words. The world felt distant, and surreal. “Can I at least know which hospital?”
The officer hesitated for a moment, then relented. “St. Michael’s. But you won’t be allowed to call until we clear things with the authorities.”
“Call? I want to visit.”
He sighed, taking a seat next to you, “Kid. I’m really sorry, but you won’t be here. You’re a kidnapping victim and there’s a direct order to take you back home, you’ve been reported missing for over a month now.”
Your mind reeled, struggling to process the officer's words. Missing? For over a month? It felt like a lifetime and no time at all had passed since you'd been caught up in this nightmare.
"I can't leave him," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Not like this."
The officer's expression softened. "I understand, but this is out of my hands. We need to get you back to your family. They'll be worried sick."
What family?
You wanted to shout in his face. JJ was still missing for all you knew and Luke hadn't stepped foot home in months. You felt a surge of helplessness.
“I can't just leave him."
The officer looked taken aback but remained resolute. "We're going to get you home safely. You'll be able to follow up on Rafe's condition, but right now, you need to come with us."
The officer stood up, motioning for you to follow. Reluctantly, you got to your feet, every step feeling like a betrayal to Rafe.
As you were led out of the police station and into a waiting car, your mind raced with thoughts of him , lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life, by himself. You couldn't bear the thought of him waking up alone, without knowing that you were there for him.
If he ever woke up.
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wlfchnlv3r · 3 hours ago
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I read all your fictions and they’re so good my lord😭Can I request Virgin!Han x Femreader?? 🫶🏻
(Daje Roma Italians uniteee💪🙂‍↕️)
Not as sweet as you
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Roommates!fem reader x Virgin! Han
Synopsis: You and Han became roommates a few months ago, he is a very shy guy and a bit of nerd, but you two get along so well.
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: cute like hell Han, smut and fluff, sex! Mdni!, 🔞, handjob and boh.
Note: small waist!Han is so hot.
As soon as you enter the living room you start hearing some unusual noises from Han’s room.
He probably didn’t expect you to be home this early.
You get closer to his room and you finally understand what are this “noises”, moans, definitely moans. A smirk appear as you clear your throat and knock at the door “Han, everything is ok?” you ask quietly.
Hearing the knock at the door he suddenly stopped what he was doing and quickly tried to fix himself “What? Y-yes”.
“You sure? Can I come in?” You slowly open the door and watch his figure under the sheets.
Han tries to look decent, but it was obvious he was in the middle of... something “y-yeah i'm fine..! just u-um studying... yeah studying..." he quickly responds.
You just smile and nod “Yeah- I… see”.
He suddenly become flustered, he knew what he was doing was obvious, and he tries to hide his blush but his soft cheeks made it hard to hide.
“Don’t worry- it’s- don’t be shy” you say smiling a little.
He couldn't help but feel the embarrassment building inside him, he looks at you and see your smile, the blush on his face becomes more visible "i-i…i'm not shy..." he said quietly.
“So you don't mind if I join you, right?” You tease him.
Han has a surprise expression on his face and becomes speechless for a moment "w-wait huh? i-im...uh..." he does not know what to say and just looks at you with shook.
His mind is now racing and the thought of you joining him makes him a bit excited.
“So cute Han, just let me help you…” you know he is not your “type” but you are so attracted by him anyway.
Han bites his lip, his look slowly turns to one of desire with pleading eyes and a growing blush on his face "a-are you sure...?".
You just nod, “it’s ok, I promise” you reassure him.
He slowly makes room between him, allowing some space for you to sit next to him "o-okay... then come here..." he watches as you sit down and he couldnt help but look at your body, getting a bit more excited.
You catch him scanning your body and chuckle “Mh you have to come closer hannie”.
Han is surprised hearing you call him a nickname, it makes his heart skip a beat.
He obeys you and gets a bit closer to you, a bit faster than he intends to "like this..?" he asks whispering.
You pull him more closer “just on top of me, like this…”.
His eyes widens as you suddenly pull him closer. he felt a bit flustered from the close proximity as he was now between your legs "y-yeah... just like this...".
“It’s… ok if I kiss you?” you search for his consent.
That is so unexpected for him, but he looks at you with an excited and shy look "kiss me?.. y-yeah... go ahead...".
You gently cup his cheeks, and close the distance between you two, kissing him slowly.
He closes his eyes as he feels your soft and warm lips on his. his heart is racing from all the excitement and he slowly returns the kiss, his hands resting on your waist pulling you closer to him.
“you are so sweet Hannie…” you speak between the kiss.
Han smiles softly when you call him by the nickname again and he gently runs his hand through your hair, you could feel the heat from his body; He is getting more excited "i-i...i think you're much sweeter... y/n".
As you hear his words you immediately pull him closer to on top of you.
Han lets out a quiet moan as you pull him closer. he buries his face in your neck, nuzzling and kissing your soft skin gently.
You let out a soft moan “mhh-“.
Han continues to leave gentle kisses on your neck, moving up to your ear. His hands slowly moves down your torso, gripping your hips "g-god... i need you so bad...".
You pull back a little just to see the blush on his face, “so cute…”, and begin to caress you thumb on his bottom lip.
He gasps softly as you touch his lips.
He looks up at you and opens his mouth for your thumb, gently taking it in and sucking it slowly.
A shiver runs down your spine “god- Han…”.
Han slowly swirls his tongue around your thumb, his eyes looking at you with an intense look.
After a moment he let go of your thumb "you're driving me insane...fuck... you don't know what you're doing to me..." he says slowly.
You watch him just for a few seconds before starting to kiss his neck roughly.
He tilts his head, giving you more access to his neck and a few more soft moans escapes his mouth "mmmh...you're gonna leave marks..." he whispers to you.
“It’s ok for you…?”.
Han thinks for a moment, then quickly nods; he is so desperate for you, he wouldnt resist anything you do at this point "y-yeah... leave marks...” before he finishes his sentence you nip and begin to leave purple hickeys on his neck.
“Y-you know- an hickey is just- just a bruise…and…and it’s caused by capillaries’s damage-“ he let out a soft yet shaky moan “-that… causes your capillaries to leak blood…and- and it doesn't have anywhere to go.” As soon as he finishes the explanation you laugh a bit.
Han just bites his lip, trying not to moan too loud.
“I want to hear you, sweetheart”
Han lets out a shaky breath, and pulls you closer against his body. he leans down again to your ear, whispering to you "you're t-teasing me... i-i want you so bad...g-goddd...you dont know what you're doing to me...".
“God- you are so innocent and cute as hell”.
He is a bit embarrassed from your words but he couldnt help feeling excited, desperate and eager for your touch; he looks at you with a flushed face and pleading eyes before saying "y-you're making me feel t-things i've never felt before... i-i...".
You give him a quick kiss smiling “I want to make you feel good…”.
Han bites his lip, and he nods slowly "y-yes... please...i want more..." he pulls you against his body, his hands slowly starts to wander on your curves.
The intimacy starts growing between you two and you take off his hoodie with a quick movement, he lifts his arms to help you take his hoodie off fully, his body revealed right in front of you.
It was now, that you notice his slender yet firm and lean physique; His waist is small, you could almost wrap your hands around it and he had muscular and defined arms “you are gorgeous sweetheart”.
Han looks at you, his eyes slowly trailing down from your face to your body, examining you; he was clearly very attracted to you "y-you're the one who's gorgeous here... god i cant keep my hands off you...and- I don’t know what to do”.
“Just- undress me…”you speak in a low tone.
He slowly pulls at the hem of your shirt and lifts it up, slowly taking it off for you; His face heats up as he took it off, revealing your body.
His eyes are focused on your curves, his gaze lingering on your exposed body; he touches your body slowly, his hands running up and down your sides, before wrapping his arms around your waist “god- you are so pretty y/n”.
You smile for his compliment before speaking again “what if i take off your pants..?”.
Han lets out a soft, shaky breathe, hearing your request. he looks at you in the eye with a mixture of pleading and excitement "m...mmh...yes, go ahead... p-please...".
You start to lower his pants and boxers and he lifts his hips slightly to help you with it. He is now naked in front of you, and visibly excited.
You bite down your bottom lip looking at him.
Han’s breaths is becoming quicker and shaky and your reaction alone was driving him insane.
He gently cups your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him before looking in your eyes with a soft yet somewhat needy look; his other hand slowly rubbing your thigh "p-please... touch me more..." he pleads.
You start to rub you finger on his hard tip, hearing him curse a little just increase your excitement “shh, now… tell me what were you doing earlier…”.
Han lets out a few shaky breaths, his head resting on your shoulder; it is almost as if he is using you to hide his flushed face "i-i... w-was thinking of you... and touching myself..”he mumbles into your shoulder.
“Really..?” You smile a little hearing his words.
Han is still hiding his face, feeling really embarrassed and he slowly nods in response to your question, still clinging on to you tightly.
“I- i want to see you touching yourself…” you suddenly ask.
He lifts his head up, looking at you with a shy look and bits his lip.
He is hesitant at first but he nods slowly too worked up at this point and in desperately needs for some relief.
Han slowly lets go of you to lets you watch him; he leans back a bit on the bed, and slowly starts to touch his hard cock.
You just look at him with a smirk on your face; he makes an effort to keep eye contact, but he is way too shy for that.
You really want him, you can’t help it “want to feel you inside me… please” you almost plead and finish to undress yourself, pulling off your skirt and panties.
Han looks at you and let out a quiet moan; his tongue quickly came out to wet his dry lips "g-god you're so hot...".
You pull him on top of you and between your legs, again “... have you ever have sex hannie?”.
He is now basically laying on top of you, looking at you with a flushed face (he didn't expect to be on top so suddenly), but he quickly adjusts himself for comfort and he shakes his head slowly "no l haven't... I'm a v-virgin..." he admits.
“Ehi- don’t worry, l'm gonna help you a little ok?” you reassure him softly.
Han is thankful for your kindness and patience with him and he nods at your words, trying to keep a steady breath "okay... p-please help me..".
You rub his cock tip and position it in front of your cunt, guiding him.
He is getting really desperate now, he can’t believe he is actually here, laying between your legs, about to lose his virginity.
Han bites his lip, his breaths shaky as he looks at you, then down at your body in front of him "please... c-can i-?" he pleads.
“Y-yes- you..can move” you say in a whisper.
He takes a shaky breath, gripping the cushions for support; his dick pressing against your entrance, he looks up at giving you another kiss before slowly and gently starting to push inside.
You moan a little “you- you ok..?” you ask.
Han lets out a shaky breath when he hears your moa, it sounds so good to his ears
he looks at you and nods "y-yeah I'm okay... just going slow".
He pushes his length in deeper slowly, taking in deep breaths as he feel himself being surrounded by your warmth walls.
It is all so new to him and it feel so good that he is almost losing it; Han looks at you, his eyes slightly closing from pleasured sensations.
“Good- you are doing so good…” you whine.
He smiles a bit; he was very nervous and he is glad to hear you say that "r-really..? s-should i keep going...?" he shyly asks.
“Yes- please yes…”.
Han is desperate now, and he is so eager to keep going to please you.
He begin to move in and out of you, the sensation was so new to him that he struggled to keep a steady rhythm; his breaths were quick and shaky, broken moans escaping from his mouth, not even trying to keep them under control.
You cup his face trying to kiss him not in a sloppy way.
Han immediately melts into your kiss, his hand coming up to hold your face as well. He is starting to lose himself in the sensations as he deepened the kiss, his tongue licking your bottom lip, entering your mouth.
“God- Han you feel so good inside me.. want more” you moan between the kiss.
His pace slowly starts to get faster and "f-fuck... you are so tight- i- i just don’t know how long i can last…”
Both your moans fill the room with him saying random pleas and begging words.
After a moment he reaches his orgasm right before you.
Han feels and hears you finish and it’s all so new to him and he is so overwhelmed by the pleasure, he can’t control it and buries his face in your neck; he laid on top of you, feeling weak and exhausted from his orgasm.
After a few minutes he pulls out of you and lays down holding you against him.
“You did so good sweetheart… really good”.
Han is still shaking a little from his orgasm, but hearing your praise put a smile on his face; he looks at you, with an almost exhausted but satisfied look on his face "r-really? b-but I finished so quickly...".
“Ehi- don’t worry…it was your first time” you say as you hug him tightly.
He lays his head on your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart. it was very soothing and relaxing, but he was also still feeling clingy, and didn't want to let go of you
“What about we go take a shower?Then I'll change the sheets” you suggest.
Han lifts his head and looks up at you with a needy look, he wants to stay as close to you as possible but nods “okay... but can we shower together? I don't want to let go of you yet..."
Taglist: @felixleftchickennugget @kiwininja35 @sweetpickledjins @slmnheart @elqivxstxr @catffeinexo-xx @multistancheck @justwonder113 @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @hello-stranger24 @raptorbait529 @cocofia143 @minniesverse @eastjonowhere
(Comment to be added to the taglist🎐)
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uceyliyahh · 3 days ago
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UNDER YOUR TOUCH
Summary: After her difficult breakup, Tiana wanted to start anew with her life. That's when she realized her life would be better when she met him.
This fanfic is 18+! NO MINORS ALLOWED
word count: 2957
smut warning; it’ll come in the story randomly so PLEASE PLEASE look out for it I’m not really good at writing ✍🏽 smuts but I’m improving at the moment.
Jey Uso x Tiana
AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.
comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍
ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.
I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios
But I’ll be writing along the way since this story is in my drafts on Wattpad right now so yuh. 💁🏽‍♀️
TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️@pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign
@punksyeet @bebesobrielo @aikosilo @hunnidmilly @zillasvilla @fearlesschimera @xbriexx @lov3rla03 @bloodlinesbabe93
@charmed-dreamssss @yana3sworld @partypoison00 @magnificentbouquetmusic @mselenalovebug @skyesthebomb
XX.
TIANA I am 37 weeks pregnant and will meet my baby girl, Gianna, in just two months. Jey was thrilled to hear that we were expecting a girl because he had always desired a girl child.
Before this baby popped out of me, I was at Trinity's house with the girls organizing the baby shower. We were choosing the colors and patterns for the cake and decorations.
Since the boys were more robust than us anyhow, we planned to have them remove the tables and other items. I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket while we were doing that, so I took it out to see that his mother had texted me.
Mama Talisua 🫶🏼 sent a message. IMESSAGE 💬
mama talisua🫶🏼: hello! My daughter-in-law, I just wanted to know what to bring for the baby shower this weekend.
Tiana: Heyy! Mom, you can bring some gifts and some food we need all the food that we can get 😭 mama talisua🫶🏼: don't worry honey I got yall I just can't wait to see my grand baby Tiana: me too mom, me too. mama talisua🫶🏼: tell my son to answer my calls also dear! Tiana: will do 🫡
After texting his mother, Trinity showed me some more ideas for the baby shower. I wanted to go with a white and pink theme so everybody could look pretty in all white or pink.
While we were doing that, I felt Gianna kicking me in the stomach, which always felt funny to me, feeling her little kids in my tummy.
"Oh my goodness, is she kicking?" Trinity asked as I nodded my head.
"Yeah, she is most definitely kicking me like crazy down there." I said, poking at my tummy, curious as to what she was doing in there.
"Girl I still can't believe Joshua knocked you up." I chuckled a little bit while rolling my eyes at her.
I couldn't believe it either. I thought I was going to be stuck with Malakai's ass forever, but I was wrong about that, and I found someone better who loves me and would never want to hurt me. I told Trinity and Bianca about what theme I was going for, for the baby shower, which they obviously loved the idea of being white and pink.
"Yes, that's so perfect, especially since the venue is kind of big just to host a baby shower," Bianca said.
"Ouuu girl, I cannot wait to see you and Joshua's photoshoot pics together. Isn't that today?" I nodded my head while rubbing my tummy.
"It's today. I just have to wait for him to get off of work so that we can go," I replied, feeling Gianna's little feet kick me.
They both nodded their heads at me as we continued to explore more themes for the baby shower.
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zillafatu replied to your story: nah fr tho little one is ready indeed she's not playing around 😭 biancabelairwwe replied to your story: NIECEY POOH COME ON OUT SO TETE CAN SEE YOU trinity_fatu replied to your story: girl your tummy is so big romanreigns replied to your story: can't wait to see babygirl rikishi replied to your story: ♥️ jonathanfatu replied to your story: I still can't believe he knocked you up bro 😭
✧.* JEY I was getting off of work and heading towards Trinity and Jon's house to get Tiana so that we could do this photoshoot together. I am so excited to meet my baby girl soon. I already know that she's been kicking her mother in the stomach like crazy.
I felt more in love with Tiana, especially during sex, too. It's best to say that pregnancy sex is the best thing ever.  As I was on the way towards their house, I saw that Kehlani Hoe ass had texted me, probably seeing what Tiana had posted on her story. I kept Kehlani blocked, but she'll just come up with new accounts on IG, as she's just being a stalker at this point.
Kehlani sent 3+ messages IMESSAGE 💬 Kehlani 🙄: are you fucking serious right now Jey? Kehlani🙄: you got this bitch pregnant before me? Kehlani🙄: I thought this was suppose to be us baby? I said I was sorry for cheating on you in the past we can work things out like c'mon yall don't have to get married 🥺🥺
When I read the messages, I rolled my eyes while scoffing at the fact that she is delusional and thinks that I'll just take her back in a heartbeat when I'm already with someone who I want to be with.
She can go cry to that lame ass boy Malakai while he in jail for what he had did to Tiana for all I care, I only care about Tiana and our babygirl Gigi.
Joshua: Lani imma need yo' ass to stop blowing up my phone like we are together when we ain't. Kehlani🙄: Jey c'mon I miss you Joshua: well I don't Lani I'm becoming a father now and ion' need yo' bullshit when I got better things to be worried about. Kehlani 🙄: fuck that Tiana bitch! She doesn't deserve you! Joshua: and you think you do? Girl if yo' ass don't stop playin' on my fucking phone dawg like fr Kehlani🙄: I can do better Jey better than her Joshua: Blocked.
I blocked her number while making a turn and continuing on towards the house; this girl got a lot of confidence in herself right now, playing on my motherfucking phone with allat bullshit.
I finally made it to the house, turning off the ignition in my car before heading up towards the door. I knocked on the door, waiting for one of the girls to come open, and heard footsteps approaching.
The door flew open, and I saw Bianca standing there, including Tank and Marley, coming up to me and showing me some love before I came inside the house. Bianca shut the door behind us, and my eyes scanned for Tiana, but she was nowhere to be found.
"Tiana's in the bedroom sleeping, " Trinity said as I nodded my head while going upstairs to the guest bedroom.
When I went inside the guest bedroom, I could see her sleeping soundly. I quietly walked towards her, sitting next to her on the bed. I moved her hair to the side, admiring her beautiful features and curious to see what our little bundle of joy would look like more.
I caressed her cheeks as she shifted in her sleep, seeing her eyes flutter open, looking towards me with a faint smile.
"Bubba, you're here. Is it almost time to go?" she asked in a husky tone.
"Yeah, mama, c'mon. We gotta get ready for our photoshoot," I said as she whined like a baby, which I found adorable.
She managed to get up with my help so that she wouldn't fall. We walked downstairs, seeing the girls staring at us with a smile.
"Y'all are just the perfect couple like I'm so happy for you bestie." Bianca said.
Tiana smiled at them before we bid our goodbyes and headed out toward the photoshoot location. Tiana and I walked toward my car while I opened the door for her, running back towards my side of the door and opening it while getting in.
We buckled our seatbelts while heading towards the place, listening to some music on Tiana's playlist. She always had some good music to vibe to while in the car.
I looked over towards her, seeing her falling in and out of sleep. So I placed my hand on her belly bump, rubbing it, feeling Gigi's kicks coming from her tummy.
We finally made it to the place. As I took off my seatbelt, seeing Tiana sleeping soundly, I gently shook her as her eyes fluttered open. Darting her eyes toward my direction while stretching her body, I shook her gently.
"Hey, sleepyhead, c'mon, let's go in so we can get ready, love," I said as she nodded her head.
✧.* After our photoshoot, I took Tiana back to my crib and decided to cook us something to eat since I didn't want her to be on her feet as much. As I was cooking us something to eat, I peeked at her lying down on the couch watching TV, laughing at the girls fighting.
'Ion know why she watches this shit.'
I smiled to myself and rolled my eyes as I prepared something easy and nutritious for Tiana because she was genuinely unable to eat anything or her sweets. Tiana was a better cook than me, so she could actually throw it down in the kitchen. I made us some salmon with mashed potatoes and broccoli, and it smelled good coming from the kitchen.
As I carried our plates into the living room, after I finished preparing our meal, I got a drink for us. Tiana was sitting up and licking her lips at the food when I looked at her. 
"This looks so good, Bubba." Tiana said as she smiled at me.
"It's not better than what you cook, love, but thank you. I didn't want you to be on your feet." I said.
We began to eat our food together while putting on Friday. Tiana put her feet on my legs, getting comfortable while eating her food.
"Have you all decided what colors to have for the baby shower this weekend?" Tiana nodded as she reached for her phone, which was next to her.
She showed me some ideas for the baby shower, with the theme of white and pink, which I really liked because it meant I could go all out with our outfits.
"I love this idea, baby. You're going to make me go all out for this, " she chuckled at me while placing her phone down next to her.
We got done eating our food together as I grabbed both of our plates going to wash them in the sink; that's when I felt Tiana wrap her arms around my waist—causing me to turn around seeing her staring up at me with those innocent eyes that got her ass pregnant in the first place.
I placed my hands on her belly, bending down to give it a kiss while talking to Gigi, letting her know that Papa and Mama were waiting for her to come out so we could see her. I felt her little kicks in her mother's tummy, which made me chuckle a little.
My eyes darted back towards Tiana's innocent ones. I placed my hands on her face, bringing her closer to mine while kissing her lips.
"God, you're so perfect, T." She gave me a few pecks on the lips while our foreheads touched each other.
For some reason I just wanted to devour her right there because of them eyes she had it was like pulling me in, I didn't waste no time taking her upstairs to our bedroom.
✧.* SMUT WARNING Jey had you on your side due to your belly as he pounded his dick inside of you, making you feel so full more than ever. You couldn't lie that you did enjoy pregnancy sex but were also worried about the baby.
Worried that his dick was poking onto the babies heard but Jey reassured you that yall little girl was okay. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head while your mouth parted.
He pushed his dick deeper inside of you, causing you to gasp softly while maintaining eye contact with him. Jey loves the way you were looking right now, just all miserable underneath him, letting him do whatever to you because that's your soon-to-be husband, of course.
He firmly grabbed you by the throat beating your super wet cunt in, causing you to whine.
"Fuckkk Josh..." you moaned. You never felt so full, especially when it came to him. He always made you feel good whenever.
Jey felt your walls clenching around him, causing him to let out a groan escape from his lips.
"C'mon mami, you gotta let daddy stretch his pussy out ight?" He continued to give you deep strokes while leaning forward towards you, placing a kiss on your soft lips.
Tiana loosened up a bit for him, letting him be in control. Normally, he would let you be in charge of things, but since you were pregnant, you didn't really want to do a lot of moving around that would instantly get you tired.
Jey was going In deep like he was in the ocean, your ocean to be exact, as he circled his hips, hitting your spot while your eyes were going into your skull.
"Give me this pussy mama, give it to me, watching yo' pretty ass take this dick." He whispered in your ear.
You took all it, causing you to feel like you were on cloud nine right now with him doing this to you, especially while you were pregnant. His groans, mixed with your moans, filled up the bedroom, along with the skin slapping that sounded out the room.
"Joshhhh shit." You whined into his neck as you felt a pit go down her stomach. You felt overwhelmed by this, and your legs were trembling underneath him.
He wanted her to feel every inch of him as you couldn't handle it anymore, so you tried to push him away by his stomach, but he wouldn't let up as he moved your hand away from his stomach.
"Don't do that baby. Be a good girl fo' me and take this shit I want you to make a mess on me." Jey rubbed his thumb over your clit causing you to twitch a bit.
He continued to firmly grip your throat, not trying to hurt you, as you felt your toes curling while his strokes got sloppier and sloppier.
He watched your facial expressions turn up while having a grin on his lips, watching you fall apart. You let out a loud moan, feeling your body shaking violently as you came all him along with tears streaming down your face.
Your breath felt shaky, and your chest heaved up and down, but he didn't care right now because he wasn't done yet. Even if you tapped his shoulder to signal him to slow down, he shook his head, refusing.
"Fuck that you better take this shit." He growled, determined to get his nut after yours.
Cursing under his breath as he continued to give you his strokes while his sweat was dripping down from his body, feeling his dick twitch inside of you.
After a few more thrusts, he let out a satisfying groan escape his lips while filling you up, making sure you got all of his warm seeds inside of you as he pulled out of you, watching it dripping out of you.
SMUT OVER.
Tiana and I were breathing heavily as I saw some tears coming from her face I leaned in forward kissing her lips to calm her down.
I wiped her tears away from her face as she stared into my eyes deeply, I massaged her thighs making her feel at ease due to them shaking violently.
After our little session, we laid down in the bed together, with her cuddled up in my chest. We both continued to watch the rest of Friday together, laughing and enjoying the movie together.
My hand was rubbing against her tummy, feeling Gigi's kicks as she put her hand on top of mine.
"I love you so much Tiana, and I love our little angel." I said.
Tiana smiled at me while placing a kiss on my lips, "I love you more, Bubba; I appreciate you so much. Even when I was dealing with Malakai's ass. You were always there for me." She wasn't wrong I knew she was the one for me when she walked into my tattoo shop I do appreciate Bianca for recommending her my shop.
If she hadn't, I wouldn't have met Tiana at all, and I would probably still be dealing with Kehlani, but now I have someone that I am calling my wife.
"You know I am here for you forever baby." I said, kissing the palm of her hand.
We continued to watch the movie together before drifting off to sleep. I can't wait for this baby shower this weekend.
Under Your Touch.
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uceyjucey, romanreigns, zillafatu and others liked your post.
tianasworld: mommy is waiting for you Gianna. 🩷 uceyjucey: god you're so beautiful baby 😩 tianasworld: @ uceyjucey all yours baby fasho 🥰 romanreigns: love yall zillafatu: aye we are goin to come see yall T. 🫶🏼 tianasworld: @ zillafatu can't wait to see yall too. biancabelairwwe: omgggg i love this 🥹🥹 rikishi: ♥️ theylovelani: ....tf bro...
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tianasworld, biancabelairwwe, MontezFordWWE and others liked your post.
uceyjucey: my two beautiful blessings 🫶🏼🤍 tianasworld: I love it here 😩😩 uceyjucey: @ tianasworld I do too mama 🫶🏼 biancabelairwwe: I LOVE THIS FOR YALL LIKE OMG 🥺🥺 uceyjucey: @ biancabelairwwe thanks sis ♥️ MontezFordWWE: I see you uceeee look at yall mane trinity_fatu: LOOK AT YALL BRO THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL jonathanfatu: I'm happy for you brother like fr fr got me tearing up and shit uceyjucey: @ jonathanfatu get yo' emotional ass outta my comments 😭😭 I'm playing. theylovelani: WHAT THE FUCK? tianasworld: @ theylovelani oops sorry little mama he's mine now should've done better to keep him. 🤭🤭
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A/n: sigh I am happy for Tiana fr fr she did it, she gotten out of an abusive relationship and found herself a fiancé I know Kehlani is crashing the fuck out right now and  Malakai in that jail cell.
But also I'm sad that this book is almost over with so y'all better be ready for that.
Anyways I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments below.
Stay Ucey.
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officialpenisenvy · 14 hours ago
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Since it seems down your alley and idk if youve talked about it before to my knowledge im really curious about your thoughts on trans exclusionary radical feminist fixation on pederasty (see: germaine greer’s the boy) + lesbian desire in relation to the like, archetype of the ganymede + the relation between that and sexual objectification of transfems and the utilization of said ganymede archetype in art as a sort of “agencyless transfeminine” 
okay so i want to say first of all that this is just me talking out of my ass and basically reflecting out loud (most of my blog is, but especially right now), so i don't know how coherent this will be, and i apologize preemptively if any wording on this is questionable or offensive, that is never my intent. i haven't looked into or researched this subject, so if you have any recommendations i would love to hear them! ramble answer under the cut
im very familiar with germaine greer's the boy, i have read it (as much as anyone can be said to have read what amounts to a pederasty-themed photo album) and reflected on it for some time: while the purported effort of the book is to "reclaim" pederasty from gay men towards women, i feel like the very desire to enable women to be pederasts is entrenched in greer's radical feminist background. trans-exclusionary radical feminism is built around bioessentialism, the assumption that men are ontologically different from women, and specifically that men are essentially evil, strong and predatory whereas women are essentially good, weak and preyed-upon: the young boy, however, somewhat disrupts this paradigm, being as he has been historically and culturally objectified and preyed upon and victimized in the same way women have. though he will inevitably grow up to become the evil strong man who harms women, therefore, the young boy can still be enjoyed by the woman while he is weak and essentially harmless, a more even relationship than that between a woman and a man that still allows a potentially heterosexual woman to satisfy her desire for a man; i don't need to specify that in real life we know any relationship between an adult and a child cannot be even and is more often than not deeply harmful to the child, and that the vast majority of adults who do sexual harm to children do so not necessarily because of physical attraction but because of attraction to their helplessness.
all this above is my attempt at finding a terf-ist rationale for female pederasty, but it does also somewhat mirror societal attitudes to the young boy, especially in a gay male context — starting from ancient pederasty up to basically the present day, the young boy is consistently the feminine or feminised party, at least in part due to his fragility and weakness in comparison to the (necessarily) stronger adult lover. the young boy, who i will now start calling the ephebe in this more archetypal context, therefore becomes a very powerful cultural figure of androgyny: ganymede's gender is important insofar as zeus chooses to bring him up to olympus and train him up as a cupbearer (a social role unthinkable for a girl), but his vulnerability and sort of waifishness are properties both of the ephebe and the girl/woman, and the same goes for all other popular depictions of ephebes, they are young boys noted for their beauty and androgyny who are functionally interchangeable with girls. as many queer people are, i find androgyny to be very attractive in all its variations and potential combinations, and i think that's why im so drawn to the ephebe as an archetype (needless to say i don't want to fuck actual young boys): the fascination with this concept of a beautiful boy who's devoid of most stereotypical characteristics of masculinity and who's somewhat forcibly put in the social role of a girl is to me a similar drive to the one that makes me attracted to very masculine women, i really enjoy the deliberate blurring of gender lines (and it would be pointless to hide that i also enjoy the element of coercion, though that is a recurring theme in my sexuality which is not limited to the ephebe).
obviously, all this discussion is separate from attraction to actual trans women: my attraction to trans women is motivated by them being women, so my enjoyment of a fem trans woman is paramount to that of a fem cis woman, my enjoyment of a masc trans woman is paramount to that of a masc cis woman (so coming from that place of liking androgyny), and so forth. of course, whether or not one is attracted to trans women is secondary to whether or not they actually treat trans women as women and respect their identity — plenty of people are attracted to trans women and behave like absolute monsters towards them.
like you said, trans women are horribly objectified and sexualised: to my understanding there's two broad categories of sexual objectification trans women face, being forcibly put in a submissive position (so basically recycling the ephebe archetype, especially coming from people who see trans women as particularly feminine boys), and being forcibly put in a dominant/active position (especially from people who see trans women as men and thus inherently sexually domineering, and who potentially fetishize their genitals as well). the forced submission, while obviously horrible and transmisogynistic and often meant as punishment for the transgression of manhood, isn't in practice terribly different from the forced submission cis women tend to experience to a lesser degree, so it can be in some measure rationalized as assimilable to the sexual treatment one would receive if she were as a cis woman (intersectional parenthesis demands i point out that cis and trans black women sexually interacting with non-black men are more likely to be put in a place of forced domination than forced submission). the forced domination, however, is pointedly and manifestly transmisogynistic in a way that specifically portrays the trans woman in question as "really a man" and "really secretly dominant", often with a very phallic emphasis, and this can be an obvious source of discomfort and dysphoria for trans women, some of whom will try to counteract that by making themselves deliberately more submissive and pliable and non-dominant, basically embodying the feminine and ephebic archetype of passive sexuality, or the "agencyless transfeminine" like you said.
i am not sure any of this makes sense, i hope i was able to be at least somewhat coherent for you anon! i would really love any input or criticism my transfem followers might have on this, since im obviously only speaking from what i have seen and am not a trans woman myself but just a tme yapper on the internet — again im very sorry if any of this comes off as offensive or insensitive, please let me know so i can correct myself if needed.
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woobifykamukura · 2 days ago
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hi. i dont care if you like v3 or not. i like v3 as a concept and i do agree it had interesting themes in it. i slander it a lot because i wish it was better. you took one post i made where i offhandedly mentioned v3 and took it in... pretty bad faith
The argument being made here is actually kind of crazy to me. "The first two games in this series were about this thing, so the third one has to be about that too, and because it isn't, it's bad." God forbid franchises try new things!
that's not the begining and end of my critique of v3, it is just simply that this post was a) about something else and b) a bit tongue in cheek. my analysis of institutional critique was true but me touching on v3 wasnt The Point
i actually wrote up a LONG post detailing (some of) my critiques on v3 and i actually plan to do a full beat for beat writeup with more coherent thoughts at some point and mmmaybe make a video essay?
https://www.tumblr.com/kindlyre/763251748052860928/im-glad-you-liked-it-and-yeah-i-had-that-same?source=share
here it is. i don't check that blog anymore so if you have a response please respond here. and please don't treat me like i'm stupid and take my words in bad faith
i am not particularly interested in having "a debate" about why v3 is or isnt a good game. you can like v3 if you want, i certainly do despite all my critiques. i'm not responsible for tumblr pushing this post onto you algorithmically and i honestly wish youd respect that i just. have critiques on the game and not have to class trial me while also acting like my argument is reductive because you only saw a fraction of it, and not feel like you have to "tear into" a guy making a post because an algorithm spat my post out.
my pet theory is that any danganronpa media worth its salt has to be a little bit about a corrupt bullshit orginization and how much it sucks. the first 2 games are literally about how the punitive justice system sucks fucking shit. first game shows this by every blackened having a Reason for kilking outside of "murder yaaayyy," yes even celestia, her desire for money is explained in depth from her free time events and how she grew up, everyone had a Reason. sakura's suicide was the result of societal punitive justice instead of institutional and how people who think their moral outrage is good bc its aimed at the "correct targets" will just end up hurting people. second game takes this even furthur and goes "in the first game, punitive justice was bad because all these people were victims of circumstance. can you keep those same morals when the people being subject to punitive justice ARE actual criminals of their own free will?" with the added part about the nwp explicitly being a rehabilitative justice program. kamukura's inclusion and honestly dr:0 as a whole since the whole catalyst was kamukura is just a little bit about how any kind of exceptionally smart child is propped up as Something Amazing and is basically forced to use that talent for the greater good despite any feelings the child themself may have about it or how stuck they feel or how traumatized or tortured they become in the search for and nurturing of that talent, and any child thats not that is constantly told theyre inferior to the former and Why Cant They Be Like That and are seen as lesser-than by everyone around them. ultra despair girls is also kind of about that with the warriors of hope and their backstories. dr3 and v3 fall short because they are not about that at all. dr3's future arc is a bit stronger than despair because it actually is about an institution that sucks and despair's feels too much like an interpersonal thing and All Junko's Fault when the whole point was junko just took advantage of unrest that was already there. v3 is about an Institution That Sucks however the institution is "what if you loved a murder game so much you made it real" which doesnt fucking happen. you can make approximations like comparisons to true crime, reality tv, and for a more specific example that squid game reality show. but they didnt even kill people on that. v3 is critiquing something that does not measurably exist and also it doesnt connect to even a single theme from the rest of the series. my other pet theory is that kodaka is scared of the number 3 and thats why the ones with 3 in them are like that
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