#it's about meeting someone you love again for the first time

[slater-baby]

Money Shot

Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!Reader

Tags - Squirting, voyeurism, toys, mentions of breeding

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“Simon?” Price calls from the head of the boardroom, arms crossed in deep contemplation, “What do you think? Is it feasible?”

“Feasible? Sure,” He glances at the tactical plan with a minute shake of his head, “Advisable? Not so much. I mean, that structure is...what? Three, four meters? Unless the drop point is on the fuckin' roof, there’s no way the cunts won’t see us coming.”

“Hm,” Price grunts, running a hand through his beard. Around the boardroom, various members of the congregation shift in their seats.

“What about…” Gaz begins, and then, Simon hears it.

BZZ.

“Goddamnit,” he whispers beneath his breath, leaning forward in his chair to pull his phone out of his pocket. Just recently, he’d installed a set of cameras about the house and porch.

‘Just for extra security, love,’ he’d told you. Since you moved in with him—and what with your name now written into his will—his time away on deployment and in the office had become…a liability, to say the least. 

On a good day, Simon didn’t like to leave you by yourself. But for extended periods of time? When he couldn’t so much as pick up the phone to send you a text?

His fried nerves had all but demanded it. The cameras were his only failsafe. His only means of connecting with you, even when you were oblivious to it. In his mind, when he was deployed to some desolate war zone, slumming it in drafty safehouses, sustaining himself on MREs and cigarettes, then just seeing you quiet and content in your usual place on the sofa, flipping through a book or doing a face mask, would be enough to tide him over. 

Though, he’d failed to consider just how goddamn annoying the notifications would soon become.

Hurriedly, he glances at his phone under the table, halfheartedly listening to the meeting.

‘MASTER BEDROOM - MOVEMENT DETECTED,’ his phone so helpfully supplies him.

He scowls.

Movement detected. Yeah, right. Just like the other twenty times it’d told him that in the past hour alone. He digs his index finger into the ringer switch, but just at that moment, another notification comes.

And with it, another…And another…And another….

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED’

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED’

‘MOVEMENT DETECTED,’ it says to him yet again, as if he were an idiot too dull to even read.

“MOVEMENT DETECTED!! INTRUDER ALERT!!!” It seems to screech, “GRAB YOUR GUN, SOLDIER, THE DAY ISN’T OVER YET!!’

Annoyance climbing by the minute, Simon hurriedly flicks through his apps, all too eager to return to the meeting at hand. Within seconds, he’s staring at the grey display of your sparsely lit living room.

If anything, it’s a bit messy, but hardly remarkable. The TV is on, some soapy romance show still rolling in the background. There’s a pillow on the floor. The cat is lounging in a flickering patch of dying sunlight. Nothing out of the ordinary. 

He switches to the kitchen. Nothing but the hum of the old fridge greets him. And in the dining room, it’s a similar story. So, attention wavering with every word that Kyle speaks, he angrily flicks through the porch cameras and straight to the master bedroom. 

And that’s when he hears it.

The smallest, weakest little voice…

“God, Simon…”

At the sound—barely audible over the noise of Price’s lecture—his heart rate spikes.

Physically, he can feel his blood rushing, nerves shredding themselves to pieces as he hurriedly presses the rotate button on screen. Slowly—almost as if to taunt him—the janky camera begins to turn. And with every second longer he has to wait, darker possibilities begin to flood his synapses.

You’d fainted.

You’d fallen.

You’d broken a bone.

Or, perhaps the very worst, he’d find someone else standing over you.The exact reason he’d installed the cameras in the first place.

He waits with bated breath, practically unblinking, until he finds the source of the movement. The blankets atop the bed jostle, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your familiar form swathed in pillows and fluff. Safe, warm, and most importantly, alone.

“Simon…” you say again—voice strained. Almost as if you were…crying?

Again, he glances at Price. The man is distracted, going on about the MTC once more. Surreptitiously, Simon looks back down at his phone, confused.

Were you sick? Laid up in bed with a fever?

No, somehow that didn’t feel like the right description. Last month, when you’d caught the flu, you could hardly stand to sit still. Simon practically had to chain you to the bed just to force you to get some decent rest.

Then, what could it be?

Did you miss him, perhaps?

At the thought, his chest warms. In all his years of service, Simon never had someone to miss him. He had his friends, sure, but they were his home away from home, the family he’d never known he’d find. Off service, however, before he’d met you, home wasn’t warmth. It wasn’t happiness. It wasn’t dear to his heart. Hell, it was little more than a house, with a sofa and television. 

But when you came along….

You, with your shining eyes, witty jokes, and unending support…

He’d never known that the most precious gift a man could receive is someone to come home to at night and to miss him when he leaves in the morning.

Fondly, he looks at his phone screen, hardly listening to the meeting at hand.

Within your cradle of old blankets and sheets, you shift, a whimper escaping your mouth. It echoes in the grainy speakers of his phone, and he hardly even thinks to lower the volume…

That is, until you move again, and the blankets fall down.

One of your arms pushes the blankets down, and suddenly, Simon has an eyeful of your bare tits. Naked, shining with sweat, and nipples raw from being tweaked.

Instantly, his eyes go wide, and he jolts forward to hide his phone in the shadow of the conference table. 

Not crying. Definitely not crying, his brain rambles, watching as the curve of your breasts squish into the mattress as you twist beneath the sheets. The flimsy fabric, threadbare after so many long nights together, wraps around your legs like a vice. 

And that is exactly when he sees it.

Your back arches way from the mattress and your entire body thrums with electricity, hips moving fast and hard, every roll just as desperate and jagged as when you slide into his lap during movie nights, unbuckling his belt before he can even think to open his mouth.

“Fuck!” You nearly scream—and Simon literally flinches, hurriedly whipping his head around to look at the other men.

“Simon?” Price suddenly questions, “You alright? Was that your phone again?”

“Um,” he begins tactfully, clearing his throat, “Yeah—just m’girlfriend walkin’ in front o’ the camera again.”

“Oh,” Price nods, “She doing alright? Haven’t seen ‘er recently.”

“Yeah—she’s…” he huffs, blindly rapidly down at his phone where you writhe against the sheets, fingers thrusting between your thighs.

“She’s doing…great,” he manages, swallowing thickly when you reach a hand up to squeeze your bouncing tits.

“Well, give ‘er my regards next time you talk to to ‘er.”

“‘Course, sir.”

“Now, back to what I was saying about the perimeter…”

With that, Simon holds his breath for a few torturous minutes. However, when the other men continue on as if nothing had ever happened, he surreptitiously leans back in his chair…and looks down at the phone again.

His hearing fades to nothing but a distant buzz, pulse racing in his chest, like his heart might explode at any moment. And even though he’s muted the volume, he swears he can hear your moans ringing in his ears, vibrating in his very bones.

In the black and white video, you throw your head back against the pillows, hips jumping so hard the flimsy sheet falls down to your ankles. And soon enough, he can see every part of you. The softness of your heaving stomach, the sweat against your cheeks, the delicate shine of slick between your sweet folds…

Your entire body tenses, and undoubtedly you cry out again. He already knows what you’re saying, even if it’s all but silent in his hands.

His name.

You’re there, needy and alone, a wet spot between your legs on the sheets, shouting his name like there was any hope of him actually hearing it—as if there was any hope of him finding you,  filling you up, and giving you what you truly need. 

At that thought, pride wells up in his veins, hot and bubbling. And before he knows it, his blood is rushing south at an alarming rate.

“Please,” he can imagine you begging him, “Please….Please, Simon, just a little. Just the tip…”

You’d say it with heat in your cheeks and a pout on your lips, wrapping a shaky hand around his hip so that he couldn’t pull back, so that he couldn’t tease you any longer. You’d whine and whimper, tears gathering in your eyes, as you weakly pulled him forward, just enough to wrap one of those precious hands around his leaking cock.

You’d guide him forward like that—in a way he couldn’t deny—and you’d sit there, batting your eyelashes, sliding your wet cunt over the tip of his condom-covered dick, like that might tempt him just enough to take it off…to fuck you full and hard, until he was leaking out of your fluttering pussy and into your ruined panties.

He bites his lip.

You’d begged him before. On your knees, kissing the head of his cock. On your stomach, pushing your ass up against his hips. With your face buried in the pillows, nearly sobbing for it.

“Just once, Simon. Please—I promise. Just a little bit. Just the tip,” you said every time—as if those words made the act any better.

And, god, Simon wanted it. He wanted it so, so badly. To feel the warmth of your body, the heat of your bare skin against his own…to feel your pulse thumping between your legs as he fucked his cum right into the seat of your very womb.

So far, you hadn’t manage to take him raw just yet. If not because he had the patience of a Saint, then for the fact that your doctor kept rescheduling your birth control appointment.

Yet, looking at you now…

He breathes in low and deep, watching as your legs shake, toes curling.

The sheets fall off the bed.

And with another cry, you pull the dripping dildo from between your legs, curling your thighs together in absolute ecstasy.

Jaded, he looks at the damned toy. A cheap replica of his own cock. You’d given him a mould on Valentine’s Day—mostly as a joke…until next deployment came around, and you all but begged him to do it.

He still remembers how ridiculous it felt, looking down at your satisfied smile while you licked him clean afterwards, merely as a ‘thank you’ for all his hard work.

Beneath the shadow of your dangling calves, he can see the promise of your dripping cunt tucked between your sweet thighs. Desperate, wet, and wanting…

He scowls.

Pills, doctors, and implants be damned. If Simon had it his way, you’d be filled and sated, womb swollen with his seed, evidence of all the love he had yet to give you. It’s a tempting thought—one that nearly drags him into his mind once and for all.

However, a sudden movement on the camera catches his attention.

The toy is still in your hand. Strings of slick drip off of it and onto the flat of your thigh. With your other hand, you spread your abused folds, barely able to pull them back with how wet you’ve become. Impatiently, slide two of your trembling fingers into yourself, head tossing against the pillows.

“Please,” he swears he can hear it, “Please, please, please—”

You thrust into yourself ruthlessly, flecks of slick flying just at the movement. God, the sound of it must be nothing short of obscene. He can only imagine.

Your offhand tightens around the shaft of the dildo, and this time, when you tense up, the movement is so utterly enrapturing he swears he can see drops of saliva spill over your lips. You yank your hand out of yourself. Your stomach flexes. You yell into the bare room.

And that—that is when he sees it.

Suddenly, a rush of slick squirts out of your cunt and onto the bed, hips flinching as you soak through the sheets beneath your ass. Fuck, even through the horrible quality of the film, he swears he can see the walls of your pussy clenching, opening up around every wash of rushing liquid.

It splatters over your thighs, makes your toes curl into the sheets. The fabric sticks to your skin as you continue to ride out the waves of your orgasm, and when you reach a hand down to rub over your swollen clit, little spurts of it squirt over your naked body in time with every press of your fingers.

Before he even knows it—before he can feel ashamed for it—he’s rock hard against the fly of his jeans, cock pulsing beneath the fabric as he watches you lay panting and flushed in a puddle of your own cum. 

“Yes,” he sees your mouth move, cunt still dribbling onto the bedsheets, “God, yes…”

Hands positively shaking, you lift the toy again, clumsily rubbing your ruined pussy over its shining length.

And, god, he’s helpless to imagine himself in its place. Helpless but to imagine himself between your legs, covered down to his knees in your shining spend. Fuck, it’s intoxicating, and it hits him harder than any drug he possibly could have taken.

Listlessly, he looks at your beautiful face through the film grain…

“Simon,” you whisper to yourself, lazily rubbing your cunt against head of that stupid toy, “Simon…”

Easily, he gets lost in it. 

Lost in the sound of your voice saying his name.

Lost in the heat of your expression.

Lost in the need he feels welling up inside of himself…

Lost in the feeling of his hand palming over himself, hidden by the shadows of the looming conference table.

“Simon?”

The sound of his name—and in the voice of a man no less—makes him jump in his seat. On reflex, he closes his phone.

“What?” He answers cluelessly, slapping his hands down on the surface of the table, like he hadn’t just been thrusting into his own hand mere seconds before.

“I asked you what you thought about it,” Price jammers on, oblivious.

“About what?” he says.

At that, Price raises an eyebrow.

“About the risk assessment results. Y’know…what we’ve been talking about for the last five minutes.”

“Risk assessment,” he uselessly repeats, “Yeah. Well, I…”

Price scrunches his face, glancing between his asinine powerpoint and Simon’s covered face.

“Have you been listening?” He huffs, sounding bored.

“Of course,” he clears his throat, hurriedly absorbing the information on screen, “It’s just—I had a question about that. Must’ve left me for a second there…”

“Uh-uh,” Price glances at his wrist watch.

Simon swallows, cock pulsing rapidly in his pants. He scoots his chair in closer to the table.

“If we go in via the rear entrance, then—then I think would should recruit at least one more person for overwatch. Y’know…At the height of the lower wall, I think it might be possible to put a man on the roof. As—as contingency.”

“Sounds fine to me. You think they’d have a decent shot?”

“Well…” he blinks emptily, “At that angle, I think that...”

The clock continues to tick.

Soap yawns at the other side of the table.

Price looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else than here.

And Simon…

God, his mind is still stuttering, heart racing with adrenaline.

Distracted, he’s stuck on where his phone lies innocently atop the table…and what he knows is happening just beneath the cover of its black screen.

[jungwnies]

wreckage - charles leclerc

୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a heated argument with charles, you watch in horror as his car crashes during a race

୨ৎ : genre : angst ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1318

part one | part two | part three | part four

They say life can change in the blink of an eye. One second, everything feels steady, solid, like the ground beneath your feet couldn’t possibly give way. And then it does. Maybe that’s the irony of it all—you never see it coming. Not really. You think you’re prepared, think you’ve braced yourself, but you’re never quite ready for the moment it all falls apart.

You fought this morning. Not just a little spat about something trivial—no, this was one of those fights that echoed louder than it should have. The kind that lingered, thick in the air, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even hours later.

It wasn’t about anything catastrophic, either, but somehow, with Charles, the small things had a way of snowballing. His schedule. Your schedule. The time you didn’t have together. The things he didn’t say and the things you did.

“I’m trying, okay? You think it’s easy for me?” he’d snapped, his accent sharpening the edges of his words. “You know what this life is like.”

“Yeah, Charles, I do. But I also know you don’t get to use it as an excuse every single time something gets hard. I’m here, too, and I’m trying to make this work just as much as you are.”

His jaw had tightened, his gaze flickering to the ground before meeting yours again. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

You’d felt the sting of those words, like a slap across the face. But you weren’t one to back down, not even when the weight of his frustration pressed heavy on your chest.

“You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’m the one waiting, worrying, wondering if this is ever going to feel… stable. Do you know how hard it is to love someone who’s never really here?”

The silence that followed was deafening, his features a mix of hurt and anger, like he didn’t know which to lean into more. And then he’d said it.

“Maybe it’s hard because you don’t trust me enough to believe that I’m doing my best.”

You hadn’t answered, and maybe that was the problem. The fight ended there, not because either of you wanted it to but because there was no time to fix it. Not when he had a race to prepare for, and you had to pretend like none of this was tearing you apart from the inside out.

When you arrived at the paddock, it felt impossible to mask the weight of the argument. You greeted a few people with forced smiles, but you could see some of them watching you a little too closely. It didn’t help that Charles seemed just as tense, his jaw set and his usual ease nowhere to be found.

Carlos was the first to pull you aside, his brown eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. “¿Qué pasa, eh? You look like someone stole your churros, and Charles… well, he looks worse. What happened?”

“Nothing,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “It’s fine.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Amiga, por favor. I know you, and I know him. Whatever this is, it’s not nothing.”

You sighed, glancing over your shoulder where Charles was talking to his engineers. “We just… had a fight this morning. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos gave you a skeptical look. “Not a big deal? You’re both walking around like someone cancelled Christmas. If you’re not okay, neither is he. You should talk to him before the race.”

You hesitated, the memory of this morning’s argument still fresh in your mind. “I don’t want to distract him. He needs to focus.”

Carlos clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “Tch. If you think he’s focusing now, you’re wrong. You being upset is a bigger distraction than anything else. Go.”

Reluctantly, you nodded and made your way toward Charles. He was still in deep conversation with one of his engineers, but when he saw you approaching, his expression softened—just slightly.

“Hey,” you said quietly, folding your arms across your chest.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lower than usual. There was a pause, the tension between you lingering like a storm cloud.

“Good luck out there,” you finally said, your voice steadier than you felt. “I mean it. Be safe.”

Charles studied you for a moment, his green eyes searching yours. Then he nodded. “And… I’m sorry. For earlier.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, someone called for him, signaling it was time to get ready. He gave you one last look, then turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with words unsaid.

The race began, and for a while, the roar of engines and the blur of cars distracted you. Charles was in good form, holding his position, making clean overtakes. You found yourself exhaling with relief every time his car flashed across the screen.

But then it happened.

It was almost too fast to comprehend. One moment, Charles was rounding a corner, perfectly in control. The next, there was smoke, debris, and the sickening crunch of metal against metal.

Your heart stopped.

The commentators’ voices rose in panic, their words a jumbled mess that barely registered in your mind. “Oh no, that’s Leclerc… that’s a big one.”

Everything else faded—the noise of the crowd, the hum of your thoughts—until all that remained was the image of his car, mangled and still.

“Red flag,” one of them said, and that’s when it hit you. They’d stopped the race. It was bad.

Your hands trembled as you gripped the edge of the table, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

The minutes crawled by like hours, every second another layer of dread settling in your chest. You kept your eyes glued to the screen, desperate for any sign, any update, anything to tell you he was okay.

When they finally cut to the scene, you saw the medics surrounding his car, moving quickly but carefully.

“He’s conscious,” one of the commentators said, and you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, but it wasn’t enough. Not until you saw him. Not until you heard him.

You thought back to the fight, to the last thing he said to you, and it made you sick to your stomach. This couldn’t be the last memory you had of him, the last words you exchanged. It couldn’t.

You were already reaching for your phone, dialing his team, someone, anyone who could give you more than the vague reassurance of the broadcast.

“Please,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “Please let him be okay.”

It’s strange, how quickly everything can unravel. You think you’ve got it all figured out, that the argument was just another bump in the road. But in the back of your mind, there’s always that voice whispering, telling you that things might never be the same.

And now, with every second that ticks by, your thoughts spiral, faster and faster, until you can’t breathe. What if this is it? What if those were the last words you ever said to him?

You close your eyes, trying to steady yourself, but all you can see is that image of his car, broken and still. Your pulse races. You told him you loved him today, but did he really hear you? Was he ever truly certain, or was that last moment of tension, the words left unsaid, enough to make him doubt everything?

You hate this. You hate the fear gnawing at you. You hate that you're sitting here, helpless, as he’s out there fighting for his life. That feeling of powerlessness—it’s unbearable.

Please, you think again, clutching the phone like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. Please, don’t let this be the end.

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴊ ᴀ ʏ ʙ ɪ ʀ ᴅ ⸻

“ Robin & Batgirl: Gotham's Sweethearts ”

Pairing: Dark Jason Todd x Fem Reader Part 2

Summary: He didn't expect to see someone like you. It was annoying at first, you were annoying. But he don't know when it start to change. Maybe this feeling was there since the day you smiled at him for the first time...

Warning: Teenagers in love.

Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Wayne Manor was too much. Too big, too clean, too quiet. Jason hated it. Or, at least, that’s what he told himself as he followed Bruce through the front doors.

It wasn’t just the size of the place that bothered him. It was everything. The warmth that lingered in the air, like someone actually lived here instead of just passing through. The way the walls didn’t feel like they were pressing in on him, like they used to in the cramped, crumbling apartment he used to call home.

Jason’s fists clenched inside his jacket pockets as he stepped further inside, his boots scuffing against the polished floor. He didn’t belong here.

He kept his head down, unwilling to meet Bruce’s eyes. This was temporary. A rich guy playing charity case with some kid from Crime Alley—nothing more. Jason wasn’t about to let himself get comfortable.

Then he saw her.

She was sitting on the bottom step of the staircase, her elbows resting on her knees, like she’d been waiting. Her head tilted slightly when she noticed him, and then she smiled.

It wasn’t the kind of smile Jason was used to. Not the fake ones people forced because they had to. This one was different. It was warm, reaching her eyes in a way that made something in his chest tighten uncomfortably.

“This is Jason,” Bruce said, his voice calm and steady as he rested a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “He’ll be staying with us.”

Jason stiffened under Bruce’s touch, his eyes flicking back to her. She stood, her movements light and unhurried, and walked toward him. Not too fast, not too slow. Just enough to make him feel like she wasn’t trying to crowd him.

When she stopped, she was close enough for Jason to see the brightness in her eyes. She looked at him like she actually saw him—not the kid from the streets, not the screw-up. Just… him.

“Hi, Jason,” she said, her voice soft and easy. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jason stared at her outstretched hand. He didn’t move.

Why was she looking at him like that? Like she meant it? No one ever did that. No one ever meant it.

He almost turned away, almost muttered something rude just to get her to stop looking at him like that. Sweet, kind people like her—they never stuck around. They never meant it.

But she didn’t move. Didn’t pull her hand away. She just stood there, waiting, her head tilting slightly as if she were trying to figure him out.

Jason’s jaw tightened. He didn’t like this. Didn’t like her. Or maybe he didn’t like the way she made him feel, like she’d cracked open a part of him he’d long since buried.

But he didn’t want to seem rude either—not when she was just standing there, smiling at him like he was worth something. So, reluctantly, he reached out and shook her hand.

Her hand was soft. Warm. It felt strange against his, like it didn’t belong to the same world he came from.

“You’re going to love it here,” she said, her voice sure and steady.

Jason wanted to scoff, to tell her she didn’t know anything about him or what he’d been through. But when he looked at her, at the way her eyes shone like she truly believed what she was saying, the words caught in his throat.

“Yeah. Sure,” he muttered, pulling his hand back quickly.

She didn’t seem bothered by his tone. If anything, her smile grew wider. It was disarming in a way Jason hated—because it made him want to believe her.

“I’ll show him around!” she said, glancing back at Bruce before looking at Jason again.

Jason almost protested. He didn’t need a tour, and he definitely didn’t need her looking at him like that—like he wasn’t just another lost cause. But when she turned back to him, her eyes still warm, still full of something Jason didn’t recognize, he found himself hesitating.

“Come on,” she said, motioning for him to follow her.

Jason trailed behind her, his hands shoved back into his jacket pockets. He didn’t trust her, not yet. But there was something about the way she walked, the way she turned back to glance at him like she actually cared, that made him want to trust her.

And for the first time in longer than he could remember, Jason didn’t feel like he was completely alone.

Jason didn’t laugh. Not really. Not anymore.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had—not since before his mom died, maybe even before that. Laughter felt like something from another life, a luxury reserved for people who didn’t have to scrape by every day just to survive.

But somehow, she managed to change that.

They were sitting in the den. Bruce had called it a “common area,” but Jason couldn’t help thinking of it as some kind of museum with its pristine furniture and towering shelves of books. He didn’t belong here, and he felt it with every fiber of his being.

She didn’t seem to notice, though. She’d plopped down on the carpet next to him with a grin, cross-legged like they were at some middle school hangout and not in a billionaire’s mansion. She’d been talking, her words bubbling out as she shared some ridiculous story about a squirrel that had stolen Alfred’s tea biscuits earlier that day.

At first, Jason barely listened. He was used to tuning people out, especially when they were as chipper as she was. But her voice had a way of pulling him in, light and warm.

“And then Alfred’s standing there with the broom,” she was saying, her eyes wide with faux dramatics, “like he’s about to duel the squirrel. I swear, it was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

She mimicked Alfred’s stiff posture and the way he’d apparently shouted, “Out, you fiend!” at the tiny intruder. Her voice cracked at the end, and she doubled over laughing, her shoulders shaking with pure joy.

Jason couldn’t help it. The corner of his mouth twitched. Just a little at first, almost unnoticeable, but then her laugh hit him—a bright, contagious sound that echoed in the big, quiet room. Before he knew it, he let out a soft chuckle.

He tried to stop himself, but she noticed. Her head snapped up, and she gasped like she’d just discovered buried treasure.

“Was that a laugh?” she asked, pointing at him. “Did Jason Todd just laugh?”

Her mock-serious tone and exaggerated expression did something to him. The chuckle turned into a quiet laugh, and then it built—small and hesitant, like it wasn’t used to being there. She gasped again, clutching her chest like she was witnessing a miracle, and that was it.

Jason lost it.

He laughed harder than he had in years, his head tipping back as his chest heaved. It wasn’t a controlled laugh, either—it was wild, raw, and unfiltered. Tears pricked his eyes, and he tried to wipe them away, but every time he looked at her, still wide-eyed and grinning, it started all over again.

She didn’t even know what she’d done to make him laugh, which only made it funnier. She started laughing too, a little confused but clearly enjoying it.

“Jason!” she managed to get out between giggles. “What—what’s so funny?”

“I don’t even—” he tried, but the words were swallowed by another round of laughter.

Jason’s sides hurt, his cheeks ached, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t feel the heavy weight he always carried. He felt… light.

When they finally calmed down, she was lying back on the carpet, staring at the ceiling with a big, goofy smile on her face. Jason was sitting up, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes, his breath still uneven.

“I don’t know how you do it,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Do what?” she asked, rolling onto her side to face him.

He didn’t answer right away. He couldn’t tell her what he was really thinking—that she’d made him feel human again, even if just for a moment. That her laughter had warmed something inside him he’d thought was frozen solid.

Instead, he smirked and said, “Make a complete idiot out of yourself.”

She gasped, pretending to be offended, and tossed a pillow at him. But he caught the twinkle in her eyes, the way her smile lingered even as she rolled her eyes at him.

Jason didn’t laugh often. But now, sitting there with her, he thought maybe it was okay to let himself feel something good every once in a while.

“C’mon, Jaybird,” she said, her voice low and mischievous. “We’re ditching Bruce tonight.”

Jason froze mid-step, glancing toward where Bruce had gone, his figure already disappearing into the darkness. “What?”

“You heard me,” she said, tugging on his arm before leaping to the next rooftop. “Follow me!”

He didn’t know why he listened—maybe it was the way she said his name, like it was the only thing that mattered in that moment. Maybe it was the sheer audacity of ditching the Big Bad Bat himself. Or maybe it was just her.

Jason followed her, her laughter trailing behind her like music as she led him through Gotham’s skyline. They landed in a quiet corner of the city, far from the chaos, where a small ice cream cart sat under a flickering streetlight.

“Seriously?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow as she handed him a cone.

“Seriously,” she said, already taking a bite of hers. “Even vigilantes deserve ice cream.”

He rolled his eyes but took a bite anyway, the cold sweetness melting on his tongue. It was stupid, he thought, standing there in his Robin suit, eating ice cream like a kid. But when she smiled at him, all he could do was smile back.

They walked a little farther, finding a spot on a hill overlooking the city. Fireworks were bursting in the distance, painting the night sky with flashes of color. She plopped down on the grass, patting the spot beside her.

Jason sat, feeling oddly out of place in the quiet. His lips twitched into a small smile, and he glanced at her, unsure what to say. Her face was close, too close, and before he could think of something snarky to deflect, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Jason’s eyes widened. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it.

He didn’t know what to do. She was so close, and her warmth seeped through his suit, chasing away the chill of the Gotham night. It wasn’t like she was heavy—she fit perfectly there, like she belonged.

Jason swallowed hard, staring at the fireworks as they burst in bright reds and golds. His mind was racing, but for once, the chaos in his head didn’t feel so loud.

He liked this. He liked her.

“You’re blushing,” she teased softly, her voice carrying a hint of laughter.

“Am not,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away.

She tilted her head, looking up at him. Even in the faint glow of the fireworks, her smile was radiant. “You know, you’ve got really pretty eyes, Jaybird.”

Jason’s heart stuttered. Pretty. No one had ever called him that. He didn’t know what to say, so he just smiled, the corners of his lips quirking up despite himself.

Her voice broke through his thoughts, soft and full of affection. “You’re smiling, Jaybird.”

Jason hadn’t even realized he was. He let out a quiet chuckle. “Guess I am.”

He looked back at the sky, the fireworks reflecting in his wide green eyes. They were beautiful, he thought, but not as beautiful as the girl leaning on his shoulder.

It was beautiful. It was warm. It was lovely.

Just like her.

For the first time in forever, Jason felt like he could just exist, no walls, no armor. Just a boy sitting under the stars, sharing a moment with someone who made the world feel a little less cruel.

And for that, he was grateful.

Jason’s knuckles ached as he drove his fist into yet another thug’s face. He could hear Bruce’s gruff voice somewhere behind him, barking orders like usual, but he wasn’t paying much attention. The adrenaline was too loud in his ears.

She was right beside him, quick and agile, taking down opponents with ease. Jason always marveled at how graceful she was in a fight—like it was a dance she’d perfected long ago.

But then, suddenly, she wasn’t there.

It happened so fast Jason didn’t even notice at first. He swung at another thug, but when he turned to check on her, she was gone.

His heart skipped a beat.

“Batgirl?” he called out, scanning the chaos around him. His voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t care. “Where are you?”

Bruce was still fighting, his focus unbroken, but Jason couldn’t ignore the knot forming in his stomach. She wouldn’t just leave. She never left.

“Batgirl!” he shouted again, louder this time.

Nothing.

Panic surged through him as he darted between the scattered thugs, his eyes darting to every shadow, every corner. What if something had happened to her? What if she was hurt—or worse?

His chest tightened.

“Dammit, where are you?” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the fight.

And then, out of nowhere, she appeared.

Jason froze, his breath catching in his throat as he looked up. She was descending from above, hanging upside down from a rope like some kind of acrobat. Her mask couldn’t hide the playful grin on her face.

“Looking for me, Jaybird?” she teased, her voice light and carefree, as if she hadn’t just given him a heart attack.

Before he could respond, she leaned down and kissed him.

Jason’s eyes widened, his brain short-circuiting as her lips pressed against his. It was quick and unexpected, and his face went red hot in an instant.

When she pulled back, she was still grinning. Jason, on the other hand, was a mess.

“What the—why—what were you thinking?” he stammered, his voice an awkward mix of anger and embarrassment. His cheeks burned, and he could feel the heat rising to the tips of his ears.

She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his heart race even faster. “Oh, calm down, Jaybird. It was just a kiss.”

“Just a kiss?!” he spluttered, glaring at her through his blush. “You—you can’t just—”

He reached up to push her away gently, still too flustered to think straight. But as soon as his hand touched her shoulder, the rope snapped.

Jason’s heart dropped.

“Y/N!” he shouted, reaching for her, but she was already falling.

She hit the ground with a thud, and Jason was beside her in an instant, his hands hovering over her like he wasn’t sure what to do.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry! Dammit, I didn’t mean to—are you hurt?” he rambled, his voice filled with worry.

She winced but gave him a crooked smile. “I’m fine, Jaybird. Just bruised my pride a little.”

Before he could argue, she leaned up and kissed him again. This time, Jason didn’t freeze.

He kissed her back.

It was clumsy and hesitant, but it was real. Her lips were warm and soft, and for a moment, the chaos of the world around them faded away.

When she pulled back, she was smirking again, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, did you like it?”

Jason groaned, his blush returning with full force. “Shut up,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at her.

But even as he helped her up, his lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. Bruce could handle everything else for now. Jason was exactly where he wanted to be.

The city stretched out before them, Gotham's endless sprawl of flickering lights and distant sirens. Jason liked it up here on the rooftops, where everything below felt a little less suffocating. The air was cooler, and the stars—hidden as they were by the smog—still seemed to fight to peek through.

She sat beside him, knees hugged to her chest, her mask discarded so she could feel the breeze. Jason was talking, half-joking about how one of the Joker’s goons had slipped on a banana peel during their last fight. His voice carried a rare lightness, a softness that only came out when they were alone like this.

“You should’ve seen his face,” Jason said with a grin. “It was like he’d just realized his whole life was one big punchline. Priceless.”

He chuckled to himself, but then he noticed she wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t even looking at the city. Her gaze was fixed on him, a soft smile tugging at her lips, her eyes shining with something he couldn’t quite place.

“What?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing. “What’s with that look?”

Her smile faltered just a little, but the warmth in her eyes didn’t fade. She took a deep breath, like she was bracing herself for something. “I love you.”

Jason froze.

Her words hung in the air, delicate and powerful all at once. His mouth opened slightly, like he was about to say something, but nothing came out. His brain stalled, caught between disbelief and a rush of emotions he couldn’t quite name.

“I—” she stammered, her cheeks flushing as she looked away. “I didn’t mean to just—forget I said anything. That was stupid, I—”

Jason reached out and grabbed her hand, his grip firm but careful, stopping her mid-sentence. She looked back at him, her eyes wide and uncertain, and he turned toward her fully.

“We’re going to get married,” he said, his voice steady, his eyes locked on hers.

Her mouth opened slightly, confusion flashing across her face. “W-What?”

“I said, we’re going to get married,” Jason repeated, dead serious. His jaw was set, his tone leaving no room for argument.

For a moment, she just stared at him, her lips parted in surprise. “Jason, that’s not—you can’t just say stuff like that—”

“You love me,” he interrupted, his voice softening, though his grip on her hand didn’t waver. “And I…” He hesitated, the words catching in his throat. “I love you too. So yeah. We’re getting married.”

She blinked at him, her face caught between disbelief and something he couldn’t quite name. And then, to his surprise, she laughed.

It started as a quiet chuckle but quickly grew into something brighter, freer, filling the cool night air. Jason couldn’t help it—he laughed too, the tension breaking as the sound bubbled up from his chest.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, her voice still tinged with laughter.

“You’re the one who said it first,” Jason shot back, his lips quirking into a smirk.

She shook her head, her smile wide and unguarded as she wiped a stray tear from her cheek. “You scared the hell out of me for a second.”

“Good,” Jason said, though there was no edge to his words. His grip on her hand softened, and his thumb brushed against her knuckles almost absentmindedly.

As the laughter faded, the night grew quiet again. Jason glanced at her, taking in the way the moonlight softened her features, the way her hair caught the faint glow of the city lights.

In his heart, he made a silent promise.

He’d protect her, no matter what. Not because she needed it—she could hold her own better than anyone he knew—but because she deserved it. She deserved someone who’d fight for her, who’d stand by her no matter what Gotham threw their way.

Because he loved her.

And for once, Jason let himself feel that fully, without the usual fear or doubt creeping in.

“Hey,” she said, breaking the silence. “You’re staring at me now.”

Jason smirked, leaning back on his hands as he looked back out at the city. “Yeah? What about it?”

She smiled again, and this time, Jason felt it deep in his chest—a warmth that he knew he’d carry with him for the rest of his life.

She nudged him playfully, rolling her eyes. “Okay, Mr. Future Husband. Tell me this—would you ever kill for me?”

Jason’s expression softened. He didn’t even have to think about it. “Of course.”

She looked at him, her teasing grin slipping into something more thoughtful. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Jason said, his voice quieter now. “I’d do anything for you.”

Next: Part 1. Part 3.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[woso-story]

2 Much

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Based on the song '2 Much' by Justin Bieber

Alexia lay on her side, propped up on one elbow, staring at you beside her. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the early morning sun sneaking through the curtains, casting a golden hue over your sleeping face. Your hair was tousled across the pillow, your chest rising and falling in steady rhythm, completely at peace. Alexia’s heart swelled, and she couldn’t help but smile. How could someone so perfect be lying here, in her bed, in her life?

She reached out and gently brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, careful not to wake you. Her fingers lingered for a moment, grazing the soft skin of your cheek. She often found herself wondering how she got so lucky, but mornings like this hit her harder than usual. Watching you sleep, so unguarded and serene, felt like a privilege—a glimpse into the purest part of you.

Alexia’s mind drifted, unbidden, to one of her favorite memories. You were out with her teammates, laughter and music filling the air, the kind of night that felt infinite. You had been on the dance floor, hair down, moving with an ease and freedom that seemed to defy the chaos around you. Alexia had been rooted to the spot, utterly mesmerized. She’d forgotten to blink, let alone breathe, because in that moment, she knew: This is it. This is where I’m supposed to be.

Her heart raced just thinking about it, even now. The way you lived your life—with so much love, so much care—astounded her. Whether it was your family, your friends, or the weight of your demanding schedules, you somehow carried it all with grace. Yet, you always made time for her. It was as if you had a way of stopping the world, just for her, even when it felt like it was spinning out of control.

Alexia looked at you again, taking in the delicate curve of your jawline, the slight upward twitch of your lips, even in sleep. She thought about the first time you met—really met—and how she didn’t realize at the time she was meeting the biggest blessing of her life. All those nights spent praying for a love like this, and now here you were. God really had done something extraordinary.

She thought about how often she told you, “I love you,” over and over again, probably too much for you to fully process. But she couldn’t help it. Every time she said it, it felt like the first time, and it was never enough to capture how she truly felt. Every syllable of your name was music to her ears, a melody she could play on repeat forever.

And those nights—those quiet, intimate nights—when your head was resting on her chest, the sun already peeking over the horizon. Alexia could never bring herself to sleep. She didn’t want to miss a single second of this—of you. She would rather fall in love over and over again than waste even a moment in unconsciousness. When you weren’t near, it felt like something essential had been taken from her, as though two seconds apart stretched into two unbearable months.

She sighed softly, leaning down to press the gentlest kiss to your temple. Even eternity wouldn’t be enough, she realized. If she had every day, every hour, every second with you, it still wouldn’t feel like enough time to show you how much you were loved.

You stirred slightly at the touch, your lips parting as you let out a small sigh but didn’t wake. Alexia smiled, her heart aching in the best way. I don’t want to miss this, she thought, letting her fingers trace invisible patterns on the sheets. I don’t want to miss a single moment of loving you.

Alexia settled back down, her head close to yours, her eyes never leaving your face. She whispered into the stillness of the room, words just for you:

“You are my everything.”

[rizzanon]

silly little sanaerio that came to me in a dream (literally)

reader tries to sneak out to go to the park with caitlyn and adrien and gets caught by damien

to shut up damien reader takes him with them and they all go park tgt idfk

damien refuses to admit he wanted to just spend time with reader , he wasnt actually gonna snitch

when sneaking back in they all domino onto eachother (reader walks in first then stops beecause ruh roh they got caught) and damien bumps into reader, caitlyn bumps into adrien and eyeah

tgis prollh doesng make sensw idk what im on abt tyoing this half aslddp

-🍰

HELLO WHAT?? I LOVE THIS (although this exact scene won’t happen, i think it’s cute that damian is forcing reader to let him tag along so that he won’t snitch—literally younger sibling core and there will definitely be a moment or two like in this undoing fate (for the bants/fluff) lol)

reader: (quietly tries to sneak toward the back entrance of Wayne Manor, bag slung over your shoulder)

Damian: (from the shadows) And just where do you think you’re going?

reader: (startles, spinning around) Damian?! What the— What are you even doing here?

Damian: (arms crossed) The better question is: what are you doing? Sneaking out like some common criminal. Suspicious, don’t you think?

reader: I’m just going to the park to meet Caitlyn and Adrien, okay? It’s no big deal. Go back to brooding or whatever it is you do.

Damian: Tch. You’re sneaking out to meet those two? Again? Does Father even know about this?

reader: (glaring) Do you know how to mind your own business?

Damian: I could let this slide… or I could inform Father. Imagine his reaction when he hears about this little escapade of yours.

reader: You wouldn’t dare.

Damian: (raising an eyebrow) Try me.

reader: (groaning, pinches the bridge of your nose) Fine. You want to come? You can come. Just don’t ruin it for me, okay?

Damian: …..Hmph. I suppose I could accompany you. Someone has to keep you out of trouble.

reader: (mutters) Yeah, because I’m the one who causes trouble.

(You and Damian reach the park where Adrien and Caitlyn are waiting for you)

Caitlyn: Took you long enough. (gaze shifts to Damian) Oh, you brought company.

Damian: (flatly) I assure you, I did not want to be here. Someone needed to supervise you lot.

reader: (rolling eyes) Oh, please. He just didn’t want me to have fun without him.

Damian: (sharply) I don’t care about your fun. I have better things to do.

Adrien: (teasing) Sure, sure. And yet here you are.

Caitlyn: (grinning) Well, since you’re here, you might as well enjoy it. Or at least try.

Damian: (grumbling) I’m not here to enjoy anything.

[pretend you all hangout at a nearby night fun fair, and afterwards, after much begging, Adrien and Caitlyn managed to convince you to let them crash at the manor for the night]

reader: (whispering) Alright, stay quiet. No one’s around, so if we’re careful, we’re good.

Damian: (scoffing) Speak for yourself. I don’t get caught.

reader: (rolling eyes) Right, because you’re oh-so-perfect.

reader: (steps inside cautiously, but freezes mid-step as you hear someone—) Oh no—

Damian: (not realizing you stopped, walks straight into your back) Watch where you’re—

(Adrien, close behind, bumps into Damian, and Caitlyn crashes into Adrien. It’s a domino effect, leaving all four of you in a heap at the door.)

Adrien: Why do I always end up on the bottom?

Caitlyn: You’re just unlucky, I guess.

Damian: Get off me, you imbeciles!

reader: Shh! You’re gonna—

Alfred: (calmly stepping forward) I trust you all have a good explanation for this?

[All four of you collectively freeze, dread sinking in.]

Adrien: (still on the floor) …I’m just gonna stay down here.

Damian: This is entirely her fault. (points at you)

reader: Yeah, this is going to be a long night….

(i might write a full on oneshot for this lol i actually love this idea)

[runnning-outof-time]

Someone For Christmas - Tommy Shelby x Reader

“You’ve been a better man since she’s entered your life, Thomas,” Polly commented, a knowing look present on her face, “don’t go back to the man you were before her.”

She was the first to visit the brooding Tommy Shelby that evening, and she brought back to light all of the poor choices he’d made in the past.

“She’s done way more for you than anyone else has,” Ada said as she sat down across from her brother, “I see how she helps you every day. Only a fool would let her go, Tom.”

Tommy stared straight ahead at the Christmas tree as his sister rehashed all of the correct decisions he’d made recently…and she made sure to point out how the woman being mentioned was part of every one.

“I really like her, dad,” five year old Charles Shelby’s voice was soft as he held onto the doorknob of his father’s study. “Will she come back for Christmas?”

This time, Tommy looked at the person — the third of the day — addressing him. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. “I…I, I don’t know, son,” was all he managed to get out.

“Why’d you call me here, Tommy?”

This time Tommy Shelby was the one who requested a visitor.

“I wanted to speak to you,” he answered, not realizing how business forward the sentence sounded until it left his lips. The fact that her one eyebrow quirked upward immediately after he finished speaking told him that he’d be fighting an up-hill battle.

“About?” she asked, her guard still very much up. She couldn’t believe he called her back again….she couldn’t believe she gave in and listened, again.

“I need you to come back, (Y/N),” he decided it’d be best not to dance around the subject.

“If you want to win me back, that’s not how you do it,” she blatantly responded. Tommy sighed, running a hand over his face. “Did someone put you up to this?” she then asked another question, “because it seemed like where we stood was pretty final the last time we spoke.”

“Charlie came to me,” he chose the one out of his previous three visitors who he felt would cut through her reinforcements the deepest. “He said he missed you, asked if you’d be here for Christmas. He really likes you.”

“I really like him too,” a soft smile formed on (Y/N)’s face as she thought of the boy. Tommy thought he was finally gaining some headway. “Shame his father’s a terrible man,” she couldn’t resist getting a dig in.

“(Y/N)…” Tommy locked eyes with her, a deadpanned expression present on his features.

“You brought this upon yourself,” she didn’t crumble under his gaze, instead returning it to him.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” he paused to sigh, pressing the pads of his thumb and index finger against his eyelids, “this meeting was meant to be an extension of an olive branch.”

“Tommy Shelby offering peace?” the surprise was clear in (Y/N)’s voice as her eyes widened greatly. “Well I’ll be damned…it’s a Christmas miracle!” her sarcastic comment had him sending another glare her way. She couldn’t help but smile at it…she was having fun getting under his skin.

A moment’s pause fell over the conversation as Tommy took some time to regain himself. There was no use blowing this up to more than it had to be. He knew (Y/N) was trying to push his buttons, and he had to hand it to her…she was succeeding. There was no hiding the fact that they had some things that they needed to hash out, and he had no doubt that they’d get to that soon enough. Christmas Eve wasn’t the time for that though. Right now all that he could think of was his son, and how he so desperately wanted someone other than his preoccupied father sitting beside him in front of the Christmas tree come tomorrow morning.

“Will you accept it?” he finally asked, affirming that he wanted no parts of getting into the details of the animosity that stood between them.

Now it was (Y/N)’s turn to think. She truly did love Charlie, even if his father had been getting on her nerves as of recently. What she didn’t want was this to seem like her seceding to him so quickly. If he wanted her back this time, he was going to have to work for it.

“(Y/N)?” Tommy called out, bringing her out of her thoughts and back to the conversation they were having.

(Y/N) pursed her lips as she looked at him again. His eyes were already intently on her, and she knew that he wouldn’t wait much longer for her response. Thankfully she’d decided - right now they didn’t need to discuss what their future would look like…right now they needed to focus on going one day at a time.

So with that in mind, she answered him: “everyone should have someone for Christmas…” she paused, letting those words sink in for a moment before she added the second half of her statement: “and right now, that’s all you’ll have me for.”

A/N: congrats on 17k, Chi! I’m sorry that wasn’t able to write something more than these few lines. This was my take on the movie/book A Christmas Carol - I hope it came across as such.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @succubaby @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @mischievouslittlecreature @stevie75

@lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick

@dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety

@justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader

@red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

@ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

[jinxyjinxer]

˗ˏˋ FELL ˎˊ˗ being his crush he finally gets to fuck

⟢ characters : Jayce Talis

⟢ warnings : m!reader, mlm, top!jayce x bottom!reader, nipple play, anal, jerking off, takes place during jayce's education, bisexual jayce that fucks around because I said so

It was no secret to the students of Piltover's University that one of their most prestigious students, Jayce Talis, liked to mingle with not only the opposite sex but also the same one.

He was young and adventurous, not one to settle down with the first person that confessed their feelings for him, preferring to just have flings or friendships — if you can call them that — with benefits. Which did not mean by any means that he didn't have his eye on a certain someone.

Someone he thought of very highly.

Someone he imagined every time he would mingle with a person that wasn't them.

He did not think of the person beneath or on top of him, no, he only could think about one specific student that he had his eyes on — you.

With how confident he was around everyone else it must have been easy for Jayce to ask you out on a date but no, he took months to finally even just talk to you. But you liked him secretly as well, so it didn't take long for the two to go further than just meeting up to hang out.

"I'm sorry I- you just were so close and I thought you were about to lean in- I didn't mean to-", Jayce stuttered as he looked down at you, having you pinned beneath him on his bed. He truly was a fool in love.

The two of you had spent some time together in his dormitory room, just hanging out and talking about god and the world until Jayce suddenly kissed you. It wasn't like you didn't reciprocate it, the chaste kiss quickly becoming deeper and steamier, tongues fighting for dominance while he slowly pushed you down to lay flat against his mattress, placing himself in between your legs and hooking them around his thighs, his already hardening crotch pressing against your own, making a soft mewl escape your lips which led to what he just said.

But you didn't want to see any of his shy and flustered behaviour.

How come he was always so confident around others but when he's with you he barely gets a word out?

"Fuck me, Jayce. I want you", was all the words it took for him to regain all of his confidence he usually put on display.

Without hesitating a moment further, Jayce leaned down and captured your lips in a kiss once again, immediately going in and letting his tongue explore your wet cavern.

He was on you like a lion on its prey, devouring everything you had to offer him.

His hands swiftly glided down from your arms to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up and exposing your torso to him. Simultaneously his mouth began to wander, first kissing your jaw, then your neck and going down more and more until he had reached one of your nipples, taking it into his mouth, biting and sucking until he finally could hear that sweet voice of yours moaning his name so delightfully. But he wasn't done with just one, no. Once he was satisfied he gave the other nipple the same attention, his pants becoming unbearingly tight from how hard and turned on he was.

He then dragged his tongue across your torso until he reached the hem of your pants, unbuttoning them and pulling everything you had down so you'd finally lay in front of him completely exposed, your dick standing proudly and pre-cum drooling from your tip. Gods, how much Jayce loved this sight.

"You look... Divine", he said in awe, eyes fixated on your body, almost unable to draw away his gaze.

But the need to fuck you was bigger than the need to worship your body alone, after all he could do both at the same time. "Is it okay if we skip foreplay? I just wanna feel your hole around me", Jayce asked, almost begged, you, mind fogged by the immense need to fuck you senseless.

"I promise I'll make it up", he quickly added when you didn't respond which just elicited a chuckle from you, nodding and giving him the green light he needed to continue.

As quickly as he could, Jayce got rid of his pants and underwear throwing them into some corner of the room, his cock resting nicely against his toned abdomen, the tip red and leaking, twitching from how needy he was.

Not wasting more time than he already did he reached over to his nightstand, pulling out a nicely but decently decorated flask clearly full of lube of which he smeared a handful around his cock and between your cheeks and into your hole with a quick dip of his fingers.

His strong hands came down to grip your waist, pulling your hips up just enough so he could align his tip with your entrance, your dick twitching at the though of how his big and thick cock would feel inside of you.

You gave him a small nod, giving Jayce the last confirmation he needed to sink his throbbing erection into you, groaning at how tight and warm you felt around him, your walls snuggly fitting around him.

"Mhm, fuck...", Jayce cursed once he finally was fully inside of you, his eyes half lidded from pleasure and gaze filled with lust.

As much as he just wanted to move and fuck you, he knew how painful it was for you to take him without any preparation, so like the gentleman he was, he stayed still as best as he could, letting you adjust to his sheer size and girth as long as you needed to.

Once he knew you were fine and ready Jayce didn't hold back.

As soon as he moved his hips, he almost pulled out completely only to slam back into you again, making you moan out loudly and arch your back at how deep he was. Jayce repeated this over and over again, his thrusts becoming faster and harder with every time he slammed back into your tight hole.

It was almost embarrassing for him how fast Jayce felt himself near the edge of his orgasm. You didn't voice how close you were but he also didn't want to stop now so he just used one of his still lubey hands to jerk you off in the rhythm of his thrusts until the two of you came unison, Jayce having quickly pulled out prior to his organs, his seed and your own mixing and covering your stomach, chest and the sheets beneath.

[sheriffaxolotl]

Rough Hands and Gentle Strokes: Arthur Morgan x Art Teacher

 •───────°•❀•°───────•°•❀•°•───────°•❀•°───────•

Headcanons on if Arthur was to fall in love with an Art Teacher

 •───────°•❀•°───────•°•❀•°•───────°•❀•°───────•

How You Meet

You’re teaching art to children in a small town when Arthur stops by to resupply. He first notices you when he hears the children’s laughter, drawn to the cheerful atmosphere of your outdoor class. Curious, he lingers nearby, watching as you patiently guide the kids through a drawing exercise. One of the children notices him and insists he join the lesson, much to his embarrassment. Despite his protests, your gentle encouragement convinces him to stay. By the end of the lesson, Arthur has sketched an awkward horse that earns him a soft, amused smile from you.

The First Real Connection

After the lesson, you thank him for his participation and make a passing comment about how rare it is to meet someone who sketches in town. Arthur’s curiosity gets the better of him, and he shyly shows you a few pages of his journal. His modesty about his work tugs at your heart, and your genuine admiration breaks through his guarded demeanor. The two of you spend the afternoon talking about art and life. Beneath his rugged exterior, you discover a quiet depth and a warmth that draws you in.

Balancing His Secret Life

Arthur doesn’t tell you about the Van der Linde gang at first. He says he’s a traveling ranch hand, not wanting to scare you away or put you in harm’s way. As your relationship deepens, he struggles with the guilt of hiding the truth, but his protectiveness outweighs his desire to be completely honest.

Discovering His Life

Over time, you start piecing things together—rumors in town and inconsistencies in Arthur’s stories. When you finally confront him, your heart sinks at the truth. Though shaken, you listen as he explains his complicated life. Despite your fears, you recognize the goodness in him and choose to stay, believing he’s capable of so much more than the life he’s stuck in.

Making It Work Around the Gang

Arthur visits you whenever he can, cherishing the stolen moments of peace you bring to his life. He’s careful to keep you safe, often leaving supplies or money behind for your art classes. You insist you’re not a burden, but he can’t help wanting to provide for you in his own way. If the gang’s activities bring them too close to your town, he warns you to lay low, even if it means not seeing each other for a while.

Gentle Encouragement

Arthur is mesmerized by your passion for teaching art to children. He doesn’t fully understand your craft, but he listens intently when you explain it, marveling at your talent. One day, a child gives him a drawing they made during your lesson, and he proudly keeps it in his satchel, carrying a piece of your world with him.

Sketchbook Bonding

One evening, Arthur hesitantly shows you his journal again, admitting it’s “just a habit.” When you praise his sketches, he feels a warmth he hasn’t known in years. You offer to teach him shading techniques, and soon, the two of you are sketching side by side under the stars, sharing a quiet intimacy.

Childlike Joy

Watching you interact with the children melts something in Arthur. Whether you’re showing them how to mix colors or encouraging their creativity, your kindness tugs at his heart. Occasionally, he joins in, awkwardly holding a paintbrush while the kids giggle at his attempts.

Creative Surprises

Arthur isn’t poetic, but he expresses his feelings through thoughtful gestures. He carves you a wooden palette engraved with flowers or brings you rare pigments he finds during his travels. Each gift is a quiet declaration of how much he cares.

Artistic Muse

Sometimes, you secretly sketch him while he’s focused on a task, capturing his rugged charm and vulnerability. When he discovers these drawings, he’s flustered yet deeply moved, secretly tucking them into his journal as a cherished keepsake when you’re not around.

Teaching Him Perspective

Your lessons on how art helps children “see the world differently” resonate deeply with Arthur. Slowly, he starts to apply this philosophy to his own life, finding beauty in small moments, even amid the chaos of the gang.

Tension Between Worlds

The weight of Arthur’s life sometimes scares you, and there are nights when you lie awake wondering if he’ll come back. Arthur wrestles with guilt, occasionally trying to distance himself to protect you. But you always bring him back, reminding him that you love the man he is, not the world he’s in.

Handmade Gifts

Knowing your love for crafting, Arthur surprises you with small tokens: a handcrafted easel, a leather case for your brushes, or flowers he’s picked himself. Though awkward in giving gifts, his sincerity makes each one precious.

Art as Healing

You introduce Arthur to the idea of using art to process emotions. While initially skeptical, he begins sketching moments that weigh on his mind, from memories of loss to serene sunsets. Your encouragement helps him find solace in his journaling.

The Children Love Him

Despite his gruff demeanor, the children adore Arthur. They rope him into art lessons, and while he pretends to be annoyed, he secretly enjoys their laughter. You tease him, calling him your “assistant.”

Escaping Together

When the weight of life becomes too much, you and Arthur retreat to a quiet meadow or lake. With your sketchbook and his journal, you find peace in the simplicity of nature and each other’s company.

A Shared Dream of Freedom

In your quiet moments together, you talk about what life could be like if you left everything behind. You dream of opening a small art school for children, and though hesitant, Arthur admits he likes the idea of a peaceful life by your side. While he rarely considers settling down, being with you makes him wonder what it would be like—perhaps helping you run a small art studio for children. Though he never says it aloud, the dream lingers in his heart, giving him purpose and grounding him amidst the chaos of his world.

 •───────°•❀•°───────•°•❀•°•───────°•❀•°───────•

This is shamelessly self-indulgent, as I'm working towards my degree to become a teacher and stressing over assignments that are due. To destress for a bit, I ended up writing this. I hope someone enjoys it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

 •───────°•❀•°───────•°•❀•°•───────°•❀•°───────•

[epickiya722]

Okay, I read what I can from the epilogue and I just want to put out that I'm not saying I'm right about anything I say here because it's not an official release and I read from fan translations.

『Also refer to this post and this one!』

So, again, I was right about Ozawa meeting Yuji again and they have a little heart to heart.

Talking about snow, what they're doing in the same place, bit about Shibuya, it was cute.

But the ending of it was more open ended (which isn't something I hate to be honest).

Before anyone goes "Oh, they pulled a MHA 431, it's so homophobic", I get that it might feel that way but... in no way did Yuji express anything romantic to Ozawa, let alone any kind of feelings for her. Like, let's take a step back FOR ONCE and analyze what's up here. Here, take my hand. Come on and follow along with me.

If anything, from his side, he thinks she is a cool girl. However, he still barely knows her and I doubt him if confessed to he would be like "Oh, I like you like that, too, Ozawa! Let's date!" She's, at best, an acquaintance. Someone in passing, someone he did go to middle school with.

So, her epilogue isn't even homophobic. At best, it's once again just Ozawa being all starry eyed over Yuji who doesn't know how she feels.

It's actually sad when you think about it.

In no way is her feelings are mutual. If Yuko was looking for love, Yuji may not be that person for it. I get it, sometimes you'll have feelings for the one person who was nice to you, but that doesn't mean it will be the only person.

Yuko being too busy hung up on Yuji may have missed a person who likes in the way she likes Yuji. What if there was someone else who did pay attention to the way she writes? Who did meet her at some point and got to know her and liked her for who she was?

And if not that, Yuko should have took Yuji's words to heart and realized how great she is and learn to love herself a little more.

The thing about the middle school flashback I feel, isn't just a flashback about her, but also to show the kind of person he is.

It shows that he's attentive and thoughtful. But also that his actions tend to be swayed by other people, even forcefully. Which happens often for Yuji. He told those boys he didn't like anybody and when asked again if he had to choose, he choose someone who he thought was a neat person. Those boys forced Yuji to give another answer despite him saying he didn't like anybody the first time.

If anything, that flashback serves as a more gentle example of who Yuji contrasting to Rin, another person who knew Yuji when he was a middle schooler (Rin is actually older than Yuji). In Rin's flashback, we see Yuji defend a kid that was being picked on.

Yuji was being attentive, he didn't ignore a kid being bullied. He stepped up and told them to leave him alone and when they didn't and decided to charge at Yuji, he was then forced to act violently. In turn, Rin was left with the impression he had of Yuji, just as Yuko was.

Bringing up the snow bit, it was cute. I liked it! Yuji being compared to snow. But this is not the first time someone has came across Yuji and thought of snow.

What was the incident they bring up this chapter? The Shibuya Incident, right. And who did Yuji have to fight and had cowering by the end of it? Mahito, yes, him. And other than a wolf, what else did Mahito imagine when he became fearful of Yuji? SNOW!

So like with Rin, Mahito's perception of Yuji is opposite of Yuko's. She got to experience a gentle side which she admires. Rin and Mahito got his violent side, which they feared.

With all that being said, even with this epilogue ending the way it did, it doesn't smell "canon" to me. Especially, on Yuji's end of things.

Yuji may have a type of girl he likes, but he is also someone who doesn't express romantic interest in anybody.

While this is Yuko's epilogue, I do feel like she is also just another character to showcase the kind of person Yuji can be. She being present shows a gentle side of him while characters like Rin and Mahito shows his violent side.

And no, again, I don't think this means they're canon. So I beg, certain shippers who like the same ship I do, don't jump on Yuko, Yuji or Akutami for thinking this is some homophobic chapter when the romance between a girl and a boy here once again went nowhere.

It really didn't feel like Akutami-sensei was really trying to make them canon. And given the track record of F/M ships in this series? Yeah... no...

[ineedpaigebuckets]

unspoken truths

pt. 2

warnings: angst

an: it's awful i know. someone please help like literally how the fuck do you write. i have such good ideas but they just can not be executed right. anyways i prob actually won't write any more because i literally just cant stand to read this shit.

------------------------------------------------------

paige pov

i knew azzi and i wouldn't get along just because of her boyfriend alone, but then at practice one day it kinda hit. out on court chemistry was unmatched, she'd always find me, id always find her, when we played together we played fucking amazing. i started to become more and more drawn in by her, i started to realize she didn't really have a lotta friends since moving. i figured, maybe i'd give her a chance.

the second her beautiful ass walks into the party hand in hand with jake my plan almost flies out the window. my face tightens but i try not to think of it. i head to the kitchen to get some food and see one of our teammates, kk.

"hey k!" i grin as i walk up to her. slumping against the counter. the second i speak i see azzi walk in, she looks sad, it makes my heart squeeze for her.

"az!" i try to give her a polite smile as i hold my hand out for her to dab me up but she just kinda loosely holds on to it for a second, something's wrong and i can tell. my gaze darts between kk and azzi, i know i shouldn't, but i need to make sure azzi is okay.

"hey, did something h-" before i can even finish my sentance my fuckass girlfriend is on my arm and azzis hopeful expression drops. her big sweet eyes fall into annoyance quickly as she walks out to f the kitchen back over to jake.

emma, my girlfriend has done nothing but make me mad the last month or two and she knew it. i drag her right past azzi and her boyfriend out to the porch and look at her, my eyes drifting to azzi on the other side of the door. "emma, babe i'm sorry we can't keep doing this." i give her a knowing look and she slumps down, she knew it, we didn't love eachother we just had some sort of unspoken agreement i guess.

"i know." i hear her say kinda softly but that fire in her eyes is still there. "don't come running back to me when it doesn't workout with that bitch." she seethe and it takes me back, her hands meet my shoulders pushing me back a little while she stomps inside, right past azzi.

i sigh and walk back in kinda lingering in azzis space just a little.

"fuckin dyke broke up again" i hesr jake turn to azzi and joke, i'm about to fucking punch this sucker but azzi gets to him first.

azzi pov

"jake what the fuck, this is what i keep fucking talking about." i seethe my voice loud and hard. "don't fucking talk about my teammate like that." without another word i walk upstairs curling up in one of the empty beds just sitting on my phone.

the door cracks open and there she is, paige bueckers and all her beauty. but then she starts to talk and i realize i'm

mistaken, again.

"azzi, what the fuck was that. you just embarrassed the shit outta me i can take care of myself i don't need no transfer butting in and fighting off people like a child. i can protect myself." the second she starts to yell i feel tears fill my eyes, id had such an awful day already i couldn't deal with her shit right now. i try not to make it noticeable but her eyes soften in a way i've never seen before.

"i'm so sorry." she breathlessly whispers as i stand up walking towards her, i lean past her to open the door signaling her to leave but she kicks the door shut and pulls me into her chest, her hand in my hair and her other on my waist. i waste no time comfortably holding my arms around her torso. no words said just calm. "break up with him." paige whispers and im taken aback my head pulled out of her neck as i look up to her with big eyes, her eyes sweet and sincere, and only because it comes out of her mouth i think it over.

"i- i will." i say, both of her hands not rest on my waist, somewhere they really shouldn't be. "but- we- let's go downstairs." i stutter out clearly a little flustered.

she nods which makes me let out a sigh of relief but her head tilts down her hand meets my chin as she kisses my cheek softly. as she pulls away i see the soft gentle hope in her eyes and, why not return the favor. i bring my lips up to her cheek but paige's head must have turned, her lips brush mine and i jerk back.

"shit- i'm sorry." i muster out quickly my fingers tracing over my lips, i'm disbelief but within seconds her lips are on mine.

i feel her soft wet lips against mine making a soft breathless moan leave my lips. they seem to absentmindedly part as paige's tongue slips into my mouth. her hands pull my waist as close to her as they can as mine pull her face into mine. within seconds there's a fire through my body, her kiss felt like no one else. i wasn't scared of her going too far, i wasn't uncomfortable with the way she was holding me, i felt safe and calm. and above all else i was fucking drenched through my leggings. "fuck." i mumble against her lips as her hand finds the back of my head gently pushing me against the wall but making sure my head doesn't hit it hard at all. the soft gesture so kind and sweet. my thoughts are interrupted when her knee pushes between my legs and i let out a gasp under her, leaning my head against the wall. "m not gay." i whisper as a kinda last resort to not let myself fall into her trap but her knee leaves my core, but she's wearing shorts there's a small glisten on the top of it and i curse myself.

"way to ruin the fucking moment." she grits out.

my hand flies out to her shirt and i yank her lips back to mine. i don't care how "straight" i think i am i want her fucking tongue in my mouth, and of course she obliges. but only seconds later there's loud voices outside bringing us both back to our senses. we silently pull away and look at eachother and i scramble out the door with her on my heels. the second we get downstairs some other bitch is in my boyfriends lap and i walk over to him. im gonna take paige's request.

"you wanna date this homophobic asshole go for it. cuz he's not with me anymore." i yell at the girl, and i go to say another thing but before i can he stands up. my eyes widen and im nervous but paige comes up behind me pushing him, hard, back onto the couch his head hits the wall and paige let's put a grunt. my eyes widen and fill with terror i grab paige's shirt and tug her outside.

"i can take care of my fucking self." repeating her words from earlier. i let her shirt go with a scoff and walk down the block back to my house leaving her there. and bam we're back to square one.

[mqriuss]

written in lucky stars

synopsis 。。。rindou doesn't know what to do with all the origami stars you give him. he doesn't have the heart to throw them away, so he buys a jar to hold them when the stars—and memories—start piling up.

contents: rindou x fem!reader, childhood friends, perceived unrequited love, death & grief, unnamed illness, non-linear

playlist

note: girl i don't even know if rindou is still in character throughout the story, i just started vomiting words. hope you guys will still like this tho lol

𖤐 "hi rindou! i wonder if you'll even read this. if you see this, say 'star' tomorrow when we meet."

"what's this?" rindou gave you a puzzled look, eyes darting between you and the small origami lucky star in your palm.

"a star," you answered him innocently, making him deadpan at you.

"obviously, i know that." he rolled his eyes. "i just meant... what's it for?"

"it's not for anything," you trailed off, his words making you think. you couldn't let him find out you wrote something on the inner parts of the folded paper star. it'd be more fun if he found out himself, you thought. "i just made it and wanted to give it to someone. you're the only person i can think of."

rindou's gaze returned to the star. he's definitely seen them before—probably in kindergarten or elementary school, but he's never actually received one. you were gifting it to him, he understood that much. so he took it from you, albeit hesitantly.

not because he didn't want it, he just didn't know what to do with it.

"you can throw it away later if you want," you said, as if hearing his thoughts.

there's no way rindou could do that though.

rindou kept the star in his pocket. when he returned home that day, he pursed his lips at the sight of the now flattened star. he was just glad it didn't tear. he placed the star on his desk, not sparing it another thought.

the next day came, and rindou never said the word "star."

—

𖤐 "so you didn't open the star to read it? aw. i wonder what would happen if i said i liked you."

a week passed since the first star you handed him. you had accepted that he either threw it away or just didn't read it. you supposed rindou wouldn't be the type to think, "i wonder if anything is written in this tiny origami star. i should unfold it and find out." so really, what were you expecting?

perhaps giving him another star would get him curious?

"here." you pushed your hand towards him when you met him by the school gates.

"another one?" he raised an eyebrow at you, taking out one of his earphones.

you chuckled, "get used to it. i'll give you one when..." you trailed off, and rindou looked at you expectantly. "whenever i feel like it!"

he sighed, taking the star from you wordlessly before heading to class. every now and then, he'd glance over his shoulder—just to make sure you were still walking with him.

nothing interesting happened the next day. you gave him another few days, and there was still nothing. it seemed he didn't know about what you wrote... or did he find out, but he was just purposely ignoring it?

oh well, there was no point in dwelling on it. the world kept spinning.

—

𖤐 "third time's the charm. i'm getting bullied again by takeo and his friends lately."

you, in fact, were not getting bullied by takeo and his friends.

the last time it happened was years ago. it wasn't as if you were lying for rindou's attention, but you wanted confirmation that he absolutely never opens these paper stars. you knew for sure he'd give some kind of reaction if you mentioned takeo.

the memory was almost clear as crystal. origami papers on your desk, takeo sitting in front of you, lunch break, a half-empty classroom, and no teachers around.

throughout elementary school, takeo had always been a bully and a tease to whoever he felt like targeting. you weren't a special case to him, he just didn't like the way you always sat quietly, playing with the toys you made out of origami papers.

takeo tore your origami papers because he felt like doing it. he crushed your paper cranes because he felt like doing it. he crumpled them and threw them in your contorted face because he felt like doing it. he laughed at the tears you tried to hold back because he just felt like doing it.

unfortunately for him, rindou pushed him to the ground because, well, he felt like doing it.

you didn't even know who rindou was at the time. he was in the same year but different class, though you've heard about his brother, haitani ran—your senior. not long after rindou had pushed takeo to the floor and stomped on his hand, ran came strolling in to your class.

"nice, rindou." he grinned widely at his younger brother before they both turned to you. "takeo's so lame, isn't he?" ran said, picking up the paper crane takeo crushed earlier.

you were unresponsive, which was fine—they weren't really expecting anything. while ran didn't think to do any more for you than give you a tissue to wipe your tears with, rindou couldn't help eyeing your torn origami papers.

"let's go, rindou. you'll be late for your next class," ran reminded him, making his way out. he stopped in his tracks when he noticed rindou wasn't budging.

"your papers..." rindou muttered under his breath, but it was coherent enough for you to hear. ran watched for a moment before he decided to head out first.

"it's okay. i can still use them." you sniffled, rubbing your nose a little before taking a torn piece of origami paper.

"how? you can't make birds with that, right?" he tilted his head. "it's way too thin."

he watched as you grabbed a pair of scissors from your pencil case. when you started cutting the strip of paper to make it slightly thinner, rindou tilted his head in confusion. but before he can say anything, you had began folding. you made a knot and created a small pentagon shape, wrapping it over and over until there was not enough paper left to fold. the real magic happened when you used your fingers to pinch at the points of the pentagon, puffing up its shape to create a star.

that day after classes came to an end, rindou had used some of his pocket money to buy you a new set of origami paper.

—

𖤐 "i always thought you looked cool playing basketball, y'know? i'm just too shy to tell you. i also like when you sit next to me after you're done playing."

rindou noticed the star is a lot... puffier than usual. unbeknownst to him, it was just because you had more words to write at the time.

sweat trickled down rindou's forehead as he gulped down half of the water from his bottle. the puppy sticker you had pasted on it a long time ago was still there, it's a little faded—probably from all the washing it's been through. seeing it always warmed your heart, and you couldn't help but tease him about it sometimes.

"why don't you just scrub it off? it's hanging by a thread at this point," you questioned him. rindou exhaled deeply as he put down the bottle, panting slightly.

"i don't know. it's just there." he shrugged and you huffed at his dry response.

"seriously? i thought you didn't like that sticker."

"i never said that," rindou denied almost immediately. "did it... seem that way?" he added, his hesitance made you laugh.

"so you like the sticker? is that why you kept it?"

"no."

"then why do you keep it?"

rindou sighed, almost groaning at your questions. "i dunno, okay? it just won't come off," he claimed as he stuffed his towel and water bottle into his bag. "now, get up. i'm walking you home."

you followed him suit in silence for a while, a small smile lingering on your face. "i saw you finally scored a three-pointer, by the way."

rindou flashed you a cocky grin. "yeah? looked cool, right?"

"hm, i think you looked cooler when i saw you missing three shots in a row in your backyard."

"oh, shut up. why were you even at my place yesterday?"

"i wanted to try your mom's cookies."

—

𖤐 "it's getting a little hard to breathe, rin. i don't maybe it's 'cause you're so breathtaking!"

rindou never really liked it when you walked tailing behind him. he felt more at ease when you were beside him instead, even better if you were on the inner part of the sidewalk.

at times, he'd find you walking slow—too slow for his liking. there were normally two reactions to this. the first, he would grab your wrist and pull you with him. rindou didn't need to do it too hard, he just wanted to make sure you were still with him. the second, he would simply let you, but not without looking back to check every now and then. it usually happens when you were strolling around the neighbourhood. he hid it well whenever he worried about you, but why he felt that way to begin with was a question mark to even himself.

he always tried to convince himself that it's just because you were a klutz, but it didn't feel entirely right.

as time went on, you grew close enough for him to tease and play around with you more. in a friendly way, of course. he was always careful not to take things too far. after all, he didn't want to be one of the reasons for your tears.

so when you were walking particularly slow one day—your three steps equating to his one single step, rindou purposely walked faster. you were just in the neighbourhood, so he wasn't worried about anything bad happening.

"bet you can't catch me!" he called out, a cocky grin stretching from ear to ear.

and you really did try.

you could still run. you could still run fast enough to catch up to rindou's speed-walking, but his speed-walking turned to running. you knew you couldn't be as fast as him, but you didn't think you'd have to stop so soon to catch your breath.

your hands had found your knees as you bent, head pounding slightly. concern flashed across rindou's face when he could no longer hear your footsteps. when he came rushing back to you, you gave him a grin.

"i know better than to try you in a race, rindou. you'd surely win!" you laughed. you laughed, but rindou felt unsettled.

he blinked at you, handing you his water bottle. "here," he said, and you blinked at him too. rindou urged you to take it as he nodded.

you took the half-empty bottle in your hand, eyeing it hesitantly. twisting the cap open, you tilted it for a sip, pressing your lips against the spot where his had just been. the thought immediately spread warmth across your cheeks, contrasting the cool liquid traveling down your throat.

he was blushing too, but you wouldn't know with his back turned to you. "don't stay up too late. you need the energy if you wanna keep up with me."

rindou held your hand for the first time that day, and he didn't let go until you returned home.

—

𖤐 "i told myself i'd confess after we graduated junior high, but i guess i haven't changed. i'm still a coward."

by the end of junior high, rindou's jar was starting to pile up with all the paper stars you gave him. he had bought it when he received his tenth star. it wasn't a big jar so it didn't take long to fill—it was almost full and rindou had lost count of how many you'd made.

you were also spending an awful lot more time at his place than usual, and even started getting along with ran better.

by the end of junior high, you made a decision to tell him. tell him that you like him, straight to his face. it's clear that he never unraveled any of the stars to read the tiny letters written on them, so you thought, it's about time you told him soon.

and yet, the words never came out.

"i..." you said, trying to ignore his expectant look. "i hope we do well in high school together," you blurted out instead of your confession, preparing yourself for rindou's laughing fit over how corny you were being. his laughs never came out.

instead, he nodded. he simply nodded.

"you gonna give me another star?" he asked. he began to expect it now, the origami lucky stars.

you broke into a fond, gentle smile at his words. your right hand went down to your blazer's pocket, fishing out a paper star. slightly bigger than the ones you usually gave him.

"the strip of paper was thicker for this one. it's a special day after all." you chuckled, placing the star on rindou's already outstretched hand.

—

𖤐 "i miss you a lot, rindou. but you shouldn't miss me too much, okay? hehe <3"

rindou had no idea he'd be going to high school without you.

he remembered you clearly telling him you'd go to the same school as him. well, you more so implied it. your idle chatter with rindou normally took place at school during break, or after school when you're sitting on the bleachers before heading home together, but also on his rooftop whenever the weather was good enough to stargaze under.

"i'm not so excited for high school," rindou had said one time, making you tear your gaze away from the sparkling night sky.

"why?" you questioned and he deadpanned at you.

"maths will be harder, obviously." his response elicited a laugh from you.

"you'll be fine! i'll pay extra attention in class and take notes for us to go over together," you reassured him.

but here you were, nowhere to be seen.

he only got the news about you transferring schools after the semester started. admittedly, he was a little bit pissed. could you not have told him beforehand?

rindou couldn't be upset for too long though. you still visited his house every week and as usual, you gave him a star.

and as usual, he'd never unfold them. as usual, they went straight to his jar.

every week turned to every day—you were always with him, always coming over to his place after his classes ended. even rindou didn't have all that free time, but you were okay with it. most days, you preferred to lie in his bed and do nothing, maybe fall asleep for a while. you rarely wanted to go out and do anything now, claiming that you just wanted to hang around here.

when he asked you why, your answer was something along the lines of, "i like it better here." and it never failed to alarm him.

you always refused to tell him any more than that.

—

the last time you came over to his place, there were plenty of moments when rindou thought you were acting weird.

the first instance was when he was in the bathroom, you were inside his mom's bedroom while she was cooking in the kitchen. he would know, because just as he was coming out, you came out of the room at the same time. rindou always thought it was an unspoken rule to not go into each other's parents' bedrooms because it was... odd, yet you were acting like you did nothing of the sort.

the second weird thing you did was hug his brother. even ran didn't have the slightest idea of what was going on, but he played along smoothly, teasing you for "preferring him over rindou."

rindou couldn't even bring himself to be jealous. he couldn't bother himself with asking why ran got to hug you first and not him. he especially couldn't when you immediately retreated to his room after eating dinner with him and his family at the table. you've been in his room before though, so that wasn't the weirdest part.

the weird part was when you grabbed him by the arm and pulled him down onto the bed with you.

you were laughing the hardest he's ever heard you laugh in the past few months. "look at your face, it's so red!" you may have laughed too hard though, and you started coughing a little bit.

"quit it, what the hell are you doing?" rindou exclaimed, flustered. he meant for his words to come out lightheartedly, but fell silent when he realized his tone was a bit too harsh for his liking.

despite that, the smile you wore remained unwavering.

you nuzzled your head into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. "can we stay like this for a while?" you asked, and instead of an answer, he wordlessly draped a blanket over both of your bodies before snuggling a little closer.

"what's up with you today, hm?" rindou questioned, his eyes becoming droopy and his words a little slurred.

"nothing. just missed you," you answered, closing your eyes.

"you saw me yesterday."

"i wish i could see you every day though."

rindou raised an eyebrow. "but you have been coming over every day," he said, and you chuckled at his words.

"i might not get to do this all the time, y'know? what if i make plans or have other places to be in?"

that much is obvious, rindou thought as he pursed his lips. your words had sent him deep into thought, and he found himself imagining things he didn't want to think about. his pounding heart took over his senses for a moment.

rindou is a teenager after all, so the thought had finally crossed his mind that day—is this what it was like to have someone special to you? to hold them close, walk with them hand-in-hand, and feel the need to shield them from anything that would harm them? to want them to stay in your life forever?

you both had fallen silent, it remained that way for a few minutes. the only thing you could hear was the sound of each other's soft breathing. rindou had wondered if you were thinking of him too, the way he thought of you.

"you didn't give me a star today."

your eyes fluttered open at his words to look up at him. he had a neutral expression on, but in your mind, he kind of resembled a wet puppy.

"did you want one?" you teased, a grin appearing on your face when he rolled his eyes.

"you started giving me one every day these past few weeks," he said, jogging your memory. "and you haven't given me one today, so i was just wondering."

"aw, so you noticed." your hand found its way to his cheek. rindou visibly froze and reddened at your gesture, and his eyes widened when your gaze travelled down to his lips. "i might have... something better than a paper star," you whispered, leaning closer to softly press your lips against his.

he was wide-eyed when you kissed him, your hand slightly cold against his cheek. but rindou quickly melted into the kiss once he'd processed what you were doing. tilting his head and placing a hand behind your head, he deepened the kiss and let out a sigh of contentment.

you were acting weird again, he thought. but maybe you really were better than paper stars.

perhaps it was the thrill of having his first kiss, but he found himself looking forward to seeing you again after you left.

much to his dismay, rindou wouldn't hear from you again since that day.

—

everything feels blurry now.

rindou doesn't respond when spoken to, not even when people tell him that they're "sorry for his loss." even when your mother had gasped earlier upon finding out that he had no idea about your illness, all rindou could do was nod or shake his head, as though words had abandoned him completely. his expression so lifeless, you'd think the funeral was for him.

the words are barely coherent as your mother explains what happened to you. again, all he could do was nod. wordlessly. absentmindedly. he's in another world, forcing ran to do all the talking and responding for him.

rindou hates seeing the way you look right now. laying in the cramped casket when you should be lying next to him on his bed. your hands placed on your stomach when they should be cupping his cheeks. and your eyes closed when they should be looking into his, letting him admire the way they glimmer. the thought that they would look hollow if pried open now sends a chill down his spine.

he's known for most of his life that everyone's time would come eventually, inevitably. to be human means to be impermanent. to have life, death needed to coexist. he knows all of that already, but why? why did your time have to come so quickly? why couldn't he know about this sooner?

did you disappear for a week to prepare him for this exact moment? to prepare him for a life without you? he wonders hopelessly.

just when things start to become clearer, just when he figures out that you're the person he wants in his life, everything becomes muddy again. what was he supposed to do now? the thought of moving on felt impossible at this moment, couldn't he just go with you?

your mother approaches him with a small drawstring pouch in her hands. she doesn't say anything at first as she simply opens the pouch, and rindou feels slightly more grounded upon seeing its contents.

more origami stars.

"rindou," your mother speaks up. "y/n wanted me to give these to you, and she wanted you to do something with them."

—

rindou fishes out the pouch from his pocket before taking his blazer off in a hurry, discarding it somewhere in his room. he sits down at his desk, opens the pouch, and dumps all of the paper stars out in front of him. he goes over them for a while, recalling your mother's instructions.

"save the purple star for last."

picking out the purple-coloured star, he sets it to the side. rindou takes a random star and begins unraveling the origami.

he's met with words you had written with a black pen. though your handwriting was legible enough to read, he couldn't understand the message. his eyebrows furrow as he mumbles the words to himself.

𖤐 "doesn't she sound cute? she loved to stargaze like we did!"

rindou frantically opens another star, but is careful not to rip it.

𖤐 "i saw that lucky stars are usually gifts to symbolize good luck, love, and support."

he grows even more confused. were you seriously leaving him behind with a puzzle to solve?

𖤐 "did you know? the origins of lucky stars began with a tale of a girl named hoshi."

he opens another. the message written is far more alarming, causing him to tense up.

𖤐 "but no matter how many stars i fold, i can't seem to save myself."

it didn't take him long to react, he was immediately unraveling every single star. except for the purple one.

his eyes lit up when he found a message that seemed to match one of those he previously opened.

seconds turned to minutes, and minutes turned to at least two hours. rindou has never found himself cooped up in his room for this long that even ran began to notice his brother's absence.

"not having dinner? mom's gonna be mad that you ignored her calling you downstairs." ran leans against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching his brother go through every strip of paper, mixing and matching them.

"i'll eat later."

ran raises an eyebrow, uncrossing his arms as he entered the room. he looks over rindou's shoulder for a few moments and his mind begins to process what he's doing.

"this one goes here, no?" ran points to a strip of paper, making rindou pause. the latter blinks and tries his brother's suggestion.

the next few minutes go by faster with ran's help. rindou feels confident about the order now and sits back, going over the entire message.

𖤐 "hi, rindou! if you're reading this, you probably already know what happened to me."

𖤐 "i wonder how much you'll miss me. if you see your basketball moving on its own, just know it's my ghost! hehe."

𖤐 "anyway, i saw that lucky stars are usually gifts to symbolize good luck, love, and support."

𖤐 "so if you wondered why i gave you so much of them, i guess i just wanted to show how much i cherished you."

𖤐 "i don't think you ever opened them to read the messages though, but i'm not hurt by it!"

𖤐 "i'm mostly glad 'cause i know you never wanted to ruin them."

𖤐 "did you know? the origins of lucky stars began with a tale of a girl named hoshi."

𖤐 "doesn't she sound cute? she loved to stargaze like we did!"

𖤐 "one night, she saw the stars began to fall during a meteor shower and she was sad about the stars falling."

𖤐 "so she started folding paper stars because she believed it would save each star that fell."

𖤐 "but the stars kept falling so she got the help of other children in the village and they folded stars together."

𖤐 "they folded thousands of paper stars and soon, the night sky began to shine with stars again."

𖤐 "i really liked the story, it was the thing that kept me going besides our friendship."

𖤐 "i wanted to believe i could live a little longer and be saved, just like the stars in the story."

𖤐 "and i like to think that we're both stars. you always shined so bright to me, rindou."

𖤐 "your glow was quite contagious too, but i think my light is slowly dimming."

𖤐 "no matter how many stars i fold, i can't seem to save myself."

𖤐 "i lo you can open the final star now!"

rindou reaches out for the purple lucky star to unfold it, but not without squinting at the scribbled letters on the last star.

𖤐 "go to your mom's bedroom. look under the cushion of her window seat."

rindou only realizes now that ran had left his room a while ago, but he pays it no mind. he rushes to his mother's room, entering without knocking. "rindou?" she says, startled. he doesn't respond as he makes his way to the window seat, pushing the pillows to the side and lifting up the cushion. nothing.

he lifts the other side of the cushion and finds a usb flash drive hidden underneath it.

rindou takes it and places the pillows back in their original spot before dashing out of the room. "close the door!" his mom reminds him, and he does just that before going back to his room.

he immediately plugs the usb to his pc to find just one file. it seems to be a voice recording titled, "to rindou." he wastes no time clicking on it.

"hey... i didn't want to write this one down, because i really wished i could have told you in person." the sound of your voice plays on his computer, and his heart twists upon hearing you again. "i love you, rindou—and i don't just mean it as a friend. i'm sure you know that already but i had to reassure you just in case."

"it's okay if you don't feel the same, but if you do..." he doesn't miss the subtle way your voice cracked, and you paused before shakily continuing. "i'll be really happy. i'll be leaving with many regrets, but you'll never be one of them. i lived a good life knowing i had you."

as your voice recording comes to end, his room is silent. it's silent until he hears the faint sound of something dripping on his table. it was only then he became aware of the saltiness on the corner of his cracked lip, and the tears staining his cheeks.

—

everyday, rindou would unfold one star.

it's become a routine now, and he was nearly halfway through the jar. he'd wake up and the first thing he does is walk to his desk and read a message you left behind. he'd check the time on his phone after doing so. he didn't care if he was running late for something—you're a priority even though you're no longer with him.

ran notices this new routine as well at some point. perhaps it was rindou's way of grieving, he thought.

everyday, rindou would make a lucky star. writing your name and the date on the strip of paper before folding it into a star. despite knowing you couldn't be saved with lucky stars like in the tale, he hoped that you could be more at peace, knowing that he still thought about you, still loved you, and that it would never change.

occasionally, he'd write other things on them the way you used to. words he never got to say to you in person.

𖤐 "i actually really liked the sticker you put on my bottle back in junior high. so i never took it off."

every year, rindou visits you at least twice. on your birthday and your death anniversary. every time he did, he'd sit in front of your tombstone and fold ten lucky stars for you. he doesn't know why he makes ten of them either, it just felt right. it felt like a number you'd choose.

at some point, rindou thought he'd give you all the stars in the night sky one day, but you beat him to it.

sometimes, he still wished you could've come back that day when you left him with an abundance of stars. real or paper, it didn't matter. you didn't need to come back with thousands of stars. there was only one you, and that would've been enough.

but as long as he had the jar of stars you gave him, and strips of origami paper to make more, your light could never dim. you were brighter than any star he's ever seen.

[nemesyaaa]

kxksiwskkkiwss'zkwkzkskskskidizz oh my fucking god ??? angelita ??? are you fucking serious ?? like do you want me to shot myself right now ?? this was so fucking delicious, brilliant, perfect and hot like wtf. i died a a lot while readin this. i love the fact they're all sharing different kinks. and lmfaooo it's freaky kinky times. this was so good to read, so fucking yummy. i dont have words because you took them away with your creative mind but also all the smut you write for it. foaming at the mouth currently because i'm nothing but a dog right now 😙 you just give me what i needed

IM JUST SHARING SOME BC....NEED TO REACT A LITTLE

🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝🔝

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock. — CNC ??? ARE YOU KIDDING ME ???🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️‼️

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh. — ELABORE ON SCOUT BOY RAFE ??? BUT I TOTALLT AGREE. YOU'RE FUCKING RIGHT AND I NEED MORE ON THE ROPE PLAY + BONDAGE

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously. — SOMEONE TAKE ME BACK TO LIFE 😙😙😙

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy. — I WAS SO SURE ABOUT THAT

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.” — FUCKING PERFECT 🥹🥹🥹💖

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum. — MY FAVS. 10/10. ‼️👄

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least. — I'M NOT OKAY, I'M NOT OKAY

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly. — XKKDKZ READER CHOKING RAFE ?????????? 🤤🤤🤤🤤✨

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace. — YES. YES YES

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length. — I WAS SO SURE ABOUT THAT TOO 👁️👄👁️

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..” — WKKDKZZ CUMSLUT SQUAD ‼️‼️‼️

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap. — where is my big boy 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ I NEED you

FUCKING MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME <33 ILYSM

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ RAFE + THE !READER’S AND THEIR KINKS

warnings: dark content ahead! please do not read if you don’t feel comfortable with any of the kinks listed!

a/n: some of these might not be considered ‘kinks’ but instead things that both rafe and !reader may particularly enjoy. special thank you to @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea and always listening to my rambles <3333 consider this my christmas gift to you ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

wc: 5.0k

⭑.ᐟ bambi!reader

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock.

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh.

outdoor sex: an innocent little picnic can quickly turn into rafe pushing your head into the grass while he fists your panties, dragging them down your thighs before bunching your dress up and slamming into you without warning. he can’t quite pin point when this became a ‘thing’ between you two, but fuck he knew you loved it. maybe it was because of the scenery or being far away from anyone being able to see or hear you two, but sex out in the middle of nowhere was thrilling for you both. bambi already spent a lot of her time outside, so whenever rafe would join her and do what he does best; making her cum around his cock, it was like her two favorite worlds collided.

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously.

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.

⭑.ᐟ sheep!reader

slapping: whether rafe is slapping the swells of your tits, the fleshy globes of your ass, or your poor overstimulated clit, he loves seeing your body jolt at his touch. he especially likes slapping you in the face when he’s pounding into you, the small flash of hurt passing over your features shooting straight to his cock. he’s smiling while you’re flinching every time he picks his hand up, his large palm meeting your soft skin with a harsh smack! he knows you’re far too timid and shy to tell him to stop, small whimpers leaving your lips at the stinging sensation. once he’s done with you, your skin is raw and sensitive to the touch, rafe always making sure to soothe you and comfort you afterwards.

corruption: you were just a pretty, clueless virgin when he met you, and still pretty and clueless after he broke you in. rafe still see’s you as a saint even when he’s fingering you to tears, your tight walls spasming around his digits. he treats every time like it’s your first time all overs again, the idea of getting you addicted to his cock was enough to make him cum. he loved to see the confused, yet desperate plea in your eyes for him to turn you inside out. the fact that he’s the only one who has ever seen you unravel makes his chest fill with pride. to know that he’s the one who turned you into a cock-hungry slut to begin with does wonders for his ego.

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum.

orgasm denial: the way that rafe keeps sheep needy and ready to fuck whenever he wants is by denying her orgasms. waiting until her eyes are rolling to the back of her head before pulling away and making her clench around nothing. “nononono, please, rafe! i need it!” she’s clinging onto him, trying to keep him near as much as she could before he’s swatting her hands away. “gotta keep you on your toes, ‘doll.” he’s rough when he holds her down, stroking himself until he’s painting her tummy with his seed. sexually frustrated and sad that he didn’t fill her up instead, she’s bending to his every will later on when he wants to go for round two.

overstimulation: if sheep isn’t getting denied an orgasm, she’s getting a load of them until she’s physically trying to run away from rafe. while he’s doing everything he can to keep her cumming, she’s convulsing, shaking and trembling, writhing in pain as rafe works her poor, sensitive bud. using his fingers, tongue and cock, he tells sheep to keep count and if she messes up then he has to start from zero again. sheep is brainless after the first three, her train of thought being completely gone as rafe fights with her to keep her thighs open. “no more, no more, no more..” she’s repeating it like a mantra, rafe ignoring her pleas for him to stop.

⭑.ᐟ latina!kook!reader

praise: rafe is having a hard time believing that his favorite latina is even letting him touch her, so he’s doing everything he can to remember this moment. he’s telling you how good your perfume smells, marveling at how soft your skin feels under his touch, admiring and staring at your body in awe as if to remember every curve and detail. you’re looking in his eyes while he raves about never seeing someone as beautiful as you. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, holy shit.” rafe is in disbelief when he finally gets you out of your clothes, his eyes instinctively blinking as he didn’t know what to take in first.. your angelic face, show-stopping tits, or glistening pussy.

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.”

mirror sex: you didn’t have not one bad side. in rafe’s eyes you were absolutely flawless. after the first time you two had sex, he knew immediately that he needed to see you at every angle. getting a mirror installed on the ceiling right above his bed was the first step, then it was a mirrored headboard.. and then two full length mirrors that sat in the opposite corners of his room. the man was obsessed with watching you. if he had you in doggy, he could still get a full view of your face twisting in pleasure along with the bounce of your tits. on days where you wanted to ride him, he’d watch in awe as the globes of your ass met his thighs with a ripple effect adorning the fleshy skin.

body worship: similar to praise, rafe is whispering sweet nothings against your skin, his hands working to massage your calves as he presses kisses to your thighs. he’s holding onto you, eyes closed as he takes in your scent. “you’re so perfect.” rafe sounds like a broken record as he kisses your knuckles, and up your arm to the curve of your shoulder until he finally gets to your lips. his hands are roaming your body even as he’s inside of you, his soft touch a stark contrast to his hard thrusts. not a single inch of your body goes untouched by this man. he pays attention to every single thing, from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes, he makes sure you feel like a goddess at all times.

tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!kook!reader

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly.

hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least.

degradation: this was bitchy!kook!reader’s specialty. telling rafe how stupid and pathetic he is for spamming her phone with desperate texts, telling him he’s worthless and that the only thing he’s good for is being her boy toy. she’s bringing up the times when rafe was begging her to let him eat her out, calling him names and laughing in his face when he looks the slightest bit embarrassed. rafe isn’t letting up on you either, he’s cussing in your ear, calling you a bitch and a ‘spoiled fuckin’ brat’ as he folds you in half. both of you revel in the weight of your insults, the words only making both of you needy to prove the other wrong. ‘just shut your fucking mouth already..’

possessiveness: despite ‘hating’ each other, there’s nothing neither of you hated more than seeing each other in close proximity with someone else. rafe hated your friends, all of them always trying to introduce someone to you in hopes that they could get you to leave rafe alone once and for all. of course, later on that night when the party is over and the place is cleared, he’s pounding into you like he has something to prove. “you’re fuckin’ stupid if you thought i was gonna let you leave with that asshole.” he has you in a head lock, his toned stomach smacking the back of your ass as he choked you out with his bicep. “no one else could ever make you feel like this.”

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!pogue!reader

recording: she’s rafe’s personal pornstar without a doubt. bitchy!pogue!reader knows she looks amazing every second of the day, even when her mouth is full of cock, so when she see’s rafe pull out his camera, she’s really giving him a show. “you fuckin’ slut, i could make millions off of you..” rafe would say after she made him cum on her face and tits. rafe loved to keep documentation of bitchy!pogue!reader almost begging to tears for rafe to fuck her already, the footage coming in handy when she decides to wake up with an attitude and tells him that he’s lucky that you even let him fuck, let alone talk to you. he has the camera in your face the same night, grunting out “aww what’s wrong? ‘still think you’re too good for this cock now?”

rough sex: these two turn ‘rough sex’ into an umbrella term with all of the depraved shit that they do. smacking your skin until you’re bruised, scratching rafe until you draw blood, thrusting into you so hard that you let out a shriek with every stroke of his hips, and this isn’t including all of the choking, biting, and hair pulling that both of you do while you’re at it. rafe is ruthless in the bedroom, often leaving you bedridden by the time he’s done plowing into your poor, sensitive cunt. this was what regular sex was like between you two, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. it drove rafe crazy to know that you were so willing and just as sick and twisted as him to take his shit.

humiliation: this was a two way street for both you and rafe. he would say that he could never be seen with a stripper on his arm since he was sure the entire island had already been with you before, and you would say that you wouldn’t want to be seen with a pathetic loser with daddy issues and a drug problem to cope, anyways. both of you knew that the shit talking that you were doing was only foreplay for the activities you were going to do later. sure enough, he’s taking you in the country club bathroom, all of the grand parents there staring at your provocative outfit in disbelief. “please don’t make me moan loud..” you’d whimper, rafe wrapping a fist in your hair. “nah, you’re gonna let this whole club know that you’re nothing but an easy hooker.”

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace.

dumbification: your walls are fluttering around rafe’s cock when he tells you things like; “you’re a dumb, stupid, slut who doesn’t know how to do anything except take dick.” and calling you a brainless bimbo with nothing but tits for brains. you’re nodding along to his words, not caring about how much he’s dumbing you down. in this very moment, with his hips slamming into yours, you were brainless.. not a single thought behind your fucked out gaze. “just prancing around in your heels like a clueless fuckin’ bunny, not knowing shit..” he’s delivering each word with a punctuated thrust, your back arching into his chest when you feel the rough pads of his fingers on your sensitive clit.

⭑.ᐟ kook!sweetheart!reader

sexting: boyyyy you two can sext for hours at a time. once the clock hits ten and your phone dings with a ‘you up, beautiful?’ from none other than rafe himself, you’re faking a yawn and telling your parents you’re gonna cut the movie short tonight because you’re so sleepy. as soon as you’re laid in your bed, your room door locked until further notice, you’re sending rafe all the pretty nudes you took for him since the last time you two sexted. rafe is fisting his cock as your pictures come in one by one, his bottom lip pulled haphazardly between his teeth to keep himself from moaning out loud. in return, rafe is also sending you pictures of himself. shirtless gym pics, his bulges when he wakes up thinking about you, and your personal favorite; his bare cock and the aftermath of stroking himself to your sexy photos.

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length.

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..”

pussy eating: he needs it. he needs to have kook!sweetheart!reader’s thighs locked down to his shoulders while he works his skillful tongue on her pussy. she’s whimpering above him, wrapping her hands around his large fingers as he gently circles her clit. rafe is easily eating her out for an hour before another hour passes and she’s a mess. having orgasmed at least ten times, rafe is very controlled and knows how to bring her up before pushing her over the edge and letting her fall ever so graciously into another orgasm one after the other. the lower half of his face is soaked, and when he looks up at you from between your thighs, the sight of him is burned into your mind forever.

cockwarming: one of rafe’s favorites. whenever you and rafe are in the bliss of aftercare, he stays nestled inside of you, both of you kissing each other lazily while he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “think you could keep still?” you teased, rafe laughing softly as you clenched around him, almost as if to provoke him to move. not even ten minutes later, you’re slowly circling your hips, desperate for any kind of friction while rafe holds you in place. “i knew you were gonna put out.” rafe groaned, moving gently as he rolled over on top of you. ignoring him, you dug your heels into his lower back, prompting him to keep going. “yeah, yeah, just fuck me— oh!”

⭑.ᐟ farmer’s!daughter!reader

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap.

dirty talk: rafe knew exactly what to say in order to get your cheeks heating. “you don’t think i know wet you are right now? i bet i could slip right in ya’..” you’re gasping at the lewdness of his words, hiding your face from his view as he stroked the exposed flesh of your waist. “ray!” you laughed nervously, both of you hiding in his little house that was in the back of your own. “you know i’m right.. that’s why you’re getting all shy on me right now.” he scoots closer, his lips trailing along your collarbone. “let me take this shirt off, ‘get these tits in my mouth.” being around a horny cowboy wasn’t good for your heart. “oh, my word! your mouth is filthy!”

daddy kink: the basis of you and rafe’s relationship was that you were together secretly, your father forbidding rafe from dating you, let alone looking in your direction. he wasn’t fond of your dad for that very reason. every time he’s asking you who your pussy belongs to, he’s forcing you to refer to him as a different name other than his own. “you, daddy! oh, fuck, i belong to you!” you’re crying out, the name falling from your lips before you could stop it. the fact that he had you, the farmer’s daughter, in his bed, calling him daddy when he knew your actual father hated him, stroked his ego more than your cunt did. “yeah, i’m your daddy? say it again.” you oblige, your eyes screwing shut as the plap of your ass against his thighs echoed in your ears.

mating press: seeing your glossy eyes gaze up at him while he had your knees pressed to your chest was hands down one of his favorite sights. with the back of his hands sitting underneath your hips, your lower half was slightly elevated, your needy cunt guaranteed to take all of his cum. in this position, you swore it felt like he was in your tummy. “nghhh— can’t, rafe!” you shook your head, your eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down, taking your lips in a bruising kiss. “shhh, of course you can, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me right now.” the wet squelch of your cunt made rafe keen, his lips wet with your spit. “gonna fill you up to the fuckin’ brim..”

breeding kink: you dreamed about having cowboy!rafe’s babies, both of you always talking about having little ones running around the farm. rafe saw it vividly— your pretty round belly, swollen with his seed, a baby on your hip while you greeted him after a full day of work. it’s all he could envision while he’s pumping in and out of you, your sweet moans sounding against his skin. “i’m gonna make you such a pretty mom, baby, you just fuckin’ wait.” he grunted, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he went even deeper inside your cunt. biting back tears, you let out a half-sob as he continuously hit that sensitive spot along your velvety walls. “you’d want that, right?” rafe still asks even though his mind is already made up. “duh!”

⭑.ᐟ pogue!sweetheart!reader

spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..

food play: pogue!sweetheart!reader is basically our little strawberry shortcake. always whipping things up in the kitchen with rafe pressed against her ass was bound to lead to some interesting experiments. first it was strawberries, you and rafe sharing one before he dragged the fruit up the curve of your neck, licking the sweet, succulent juice that had dripped down to you chest. the second time around, before you two decided to incorporate it more regularly, you two were having a lazy day, both of you sharing some whipped cream you had made. you had playfully licked some off of rafe’s finger before he got the crazy idea to lick it from other places, too..

cream pie: rafe was obsessed with watching his cum drip out of you. he’d pull out halfway while you were still clenching around him, forcing you to look down so you could see the glorious sight of his twitching cock filling you up before pulling out altogether. you two would wait with bated breath’s, a moan leaving your lips as you felt the warm ropes of cum slowly drip out of your entrance. rafe’s chest would be rising and falling as he used the tip of his cock to smear his seed up and down your folds, even taking the time to circle your sensitive clit. “oh, fuck, this is amazing..” he’d marvel, gathering the sticky succulence before pushing it back into you.

marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss

soft/vanilla sex: rafe loved taking his time with you, especially because he knew you were sentimental about everything. holding your hands while his head was working between your thighs, looking into your eyes the whole time he was pounding into you, the gentle touches against your skin as he hoisted you up further onto your bed, it was all his way of handling you with care. he’d peck the tip of your nose when you were cumming, his fingers bringing you down from your high as he held you against his chest. whispering praises in your ear, rafe wouldn’t start aftercare until you were gazing up at him lovingly, and that was even sweeter.

[peachhcs]

after mack saw her again he took a few days to decide how he could see her again and maybe she had a competitor and he showed up alone and waited till it was over to find her alone and she’s shocked

au masterlist

also side note: mack and blaire go to college like a yearish early so they’re 18 at the start of this au and that’s why blaire’s in/finishing her 3rd semester

so maybe mack was a stalker, whatever, it didn’t matter nor count if all of it was public knowledge. he drove to the university, which, was conveniently 10 minutes from his house, a nervous edge in his system. maybe he shouldn’t do this.

he hasn’t seen blaire in maybe..two years? they stopped talking when he made his decision to go to boston which led to them losing all contact. she probably didn’t even want to see him and that’s why she hasn’t reached out since he got to san jose officially.

but macklin really wanted to see her. even if she turned him away and told him to never talk to her again, he had to at least try. they were in the same fucking city by coincidence. there was something someone or something was trying to tell them and macklin wanted to test his luck.

he was glad she was still super involved in figure skating and even more surprised when he read that she got a full ride from santa clara to figure skate. although, it also didn’t surprise him because he knew she was good.

the brunette took a few deep breaths as he walked up to the rink. his plan was to stay close to the back so she wouldn’t see him and by the end, he would try to catch her alone to talk.

okay, so maybe it sounded weird, but he didn’t know how else to do it. he didn’t want to sike her out before she went on and waiting until after sounded better than getting into her before she competed.

luckily, the place was somewhat packed, so macklin easily slipped through to the top of the bleachers and hid behind some tall dads. the skaters were warming up on the ice and he immediately spotted blaire. she was already in her costume stretching out her legs.

it didn’t even look like she changed much. she still looked like the same blaire mack knew and (still) loved that he met four years ago and that brought a smile to his lips.

there weren’t that may competitors, so the meet didn’t last long. when blaire went on macklin physically couldn’t look away. just like when they were 14, he was captivated by the way she lept and twirled across the ice so effortlessly. he didn’t even know how she did it or did those big spins without worrying about messing up. anytime he tried those turns he could only do 1 maybe 2 at the most.

the rink started clearing out after around 2 hours and macklin was really starting to feel the nerves. he hung around in the bleacher area still, waiting for blaire to come back out. he thought several times about just turning around and leaving, but something in him kept him from moving.

finally, the the dirty blonde shuffled out of the locker room with her bag slung over her shoulder. she was looking at her phone, so she didn’t see the brunette watching her a few feet away until he little jumped in front of her.

“blaire?” macklin muttered carefully. her gaze shot to his, searching his features before slowly realizing he was actually standing in front of her.

“m-mack..hey..” her own shock settled into her features.

“hi. sorry..i’m sure you’re probably wondering why i’m here and how i even found out you’re here..and i promise i wasn’t being weird..i just happened to see you at the game against san jose university the other day and i was like oh my god, is that blaire? and it was you and i just..i wanted to see you..and..” the poor boy began rambling out of nervousness. very typical of him, but blaire actually found it quite cute and glad that he hadn’t lost his touch of always talking way more than he had to.

“first of all, it’s not weird. it is public knowledge where i go to school. second of all, i’m..flattered you wanted to come see me,” she rocked on her heels, nervous but not weirded out or anything like mack thought she would be.

a tiny grin spread across his lips hearing her say that, “oh! okay..good. i was worried you would think i was some creep..” he slowed down for a second to let his mouth catch up with his brain, “it’s good to see you. you probably know this, but i play for the san jose sharks now.”

“i..did hear you they drafted you 1st overall this summer. congrats, by the way. that’s super awesome. i figured you’d go pretty fast. i..i meant to.. well..i didn’t know if it would be weird if i reached out to you since we.. it’s good to see you too,” now blaire was stumbling over her words. it seemed like both teenagers worried that neither of them wanted to reconnect, but it was obvious they were worried about nothing and did want to reach out.

“no, no i get it. i didn’t know if showing up here would be weird. how’ve you been though?” macklin tried making conversation as he scratched the back of his head.

“i’ve been good. i had a really good first year of college and the second year has been pretty good so far. how’s the sharks?”

“good! everything’s been good. it’s a dream come true basically,” the boy chuckled.

blaire happened to catch a glimpse of mack’s bracelet when he raised his arm to scratch his head. she quickly recognized it as the matching ones they used to have together and something tugged in her heart at the idea of him never taking it off. when she looked back up at his face it was like she was transported back in time to when they were 14—so young and naive.

“that’s really great, i’m really happy to hear that. i..i do have to get going, but we should catch up more. i can..i can give you my number again? so you can text me when you’re free,” blaire offered because she didn’t want this to be the last time she saw him.

mack felt the exact same way, “oh, yeah! totally. just put yourself into my phone,” he handed her his phone where she typed in her number.

“text me! i’m free most nights pretty much. i’d really love to talk to you more,” the girl grinned.

“i will, for sure. it was good seeing you,” they waved as blaire hurried out of the rink.

a new, happy feeling settled itself into mack’s chest and all the anxieties he had leading up to his were quickly gone.

[rhiannonsknife]

perhaps a scenario where jackie is so overwhelmed by her loneliness on a particularly bad night that she seeks us out for once.

maybe it’s the first time she’s came to us for more than just sex. she just needs a break from the world and the only one she feels that understands is us, no matter how much she wants to pretend we don’t.

she doesn’t go too deep into her feelings because jackie taylor would rather die than be honest about herself, but we at least get to see a more vulnerable side of her for more than a split second.

(also jackie taylor who yearns to be touched in a way that’s out of love rather than lust. jeff touches her all the time but never in the way she wants! he’s always sexual, always defensive over her, always pushing for more. his touch feels more violating and constricting than loving.)

- 🦔

hurt/comfort in the secretly hooking up with jackie taylor universe?? can you believe it??

jackie taylor showing up at your door in the middle of the night is not something you’re used to. not like this, anyway. normally, it’s you sneaking into her bedroom after a party, or sneaking out of it again when she has decided that she’s had enough. it’s her waiting in her car at the end of your driveway, the both of you chasing something thrilling, that neither of you should be doing at all.

tonight is different.

tonight, when jackie knocks, it is soft, hesitant. when you open the door, she stands before you in an oversized sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to her, with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

her makeup is smeared, and her usual perfectly curated image is cracked.

“jackie?” you say, your voice still groggy from the sleep she’s interrupted. “what are you doing here?”

she doesn’t answer immediately, her eyes darting past you like she’s scanning the hall for someone watching. when she finally meets your gaze again, she asks: “can i come in?”

you step aside without hesitation, closing the door behind jackie as she moves past you. she doesn’t take a seat, doesn’t remove her shoes. instead, she lingers awkwardly in the middle of the room, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“i just-“ jackie stops herself, biting her lip like she’s regretting coming here out of all places. “i needed to get out of there”

“out of where?”

“the house. away from jeff. from everyone. it’s just…too much”

you take a careful step closer. “jackie, what’s going on?”

her jaw tightens, and she looks away, her chin trembling slightly. “it’s nothing, okay?” she says quickly. “i don’t know why i came here!”

you do know why. even if she won’t say it, even if she’ll fight it with all that she’s got. jackie has always been good at wearing masks, at pretending she’s got it all figured out. tonight, she’s raw, exposed in a way she probably hates. and instead of running to jeff or shauna, she came to you.

“jackie,” you say again, taking another step closer. “you don’t have to explain. just…sit down, okay? you don’t have to be anywhere else right now”

she hesitates, still not looking at you, but eventually she sits on the edge of your couch, her posture stiff, like she doesn’t know how to let herself relax. you sit beside her, careful to give her space but close enough that she can feel you there.

for a while, neither of you speaks.

then, slowly, as you give jackie the time she needed, her shoulders slump, the tension seeping out of her frame. she leans back against the couch, her head falling to rest on your shoulder. when you move your hand to hers, gently lacing your fingers together, she doesn’t pull away. jackie exhales a shaky breath, her thumb brushing against yours in slow circles.

“you’re different,” she murmurs after a while. “you don’t…want anything from me”

“what do you mean?”

jackie closes her eyes, her face pinched like she’s warring with herself. “with jeff, with…everyone, it’s always about them. what i can give them. what they need me to be…” her voice cracks, and she pulls her hand away, gripping her knees instead. “with you…it’s different. you don’t push. you just-“ she stops, shaking her head as if saying any more might break her.

you reach out again, resting a hand gently on her knee. “jackie,” you say softly. “you don’t have to be anything for me. i just…i want you to feel okay. that’s all.”

“do you mean that?” she asks quietly.

“of course i do,” you tell her, your voice steady. ypu won’t let this chance to prove yourself to her slide. “you don’t have to pretend with me, jackie. not tonight”

or ever, you want to say, but you don’t want to scare jackie off.

her breathing hitches anyway. she doesn’t cry, not yet, but you can tell she’s close to the edge of a breakdown she’s too proud to let you see.

she avoids your gaze as she tries to keep it together. “this is so stupid,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. “i’m fine, okay? just- just forget it”

you couldn’t ‘forget it’ if you tried.

“come here,” you say gently, brushing your thumb over her knuckles.

jackie hesitates, her brows knitting together. “what?”

“come here,” you repeat, softer this time, tugging her hand lightly. “let’s just…lay down for a bit. you don’t have to talk. just let me hold you, okay?”

her face twists, expression caught somewhere between defiance and embarrassment. “i don’t need-“ jackie stops, swallowing hard.

“you don’t have to need it,” you tell her, your voice steady but warm. “just let me do it anyway”

there’s a long pause where jackie seems to weigh her options. then, finally, she exhales, a shaky, broken sound that makes your chest ache. she doesn’t say anything as she nods, just barely, but it’s enough for you to guide her gently to the couch, lying down first and opening your arms for her.

for a second, she lays unmoving before she curls into your side, her head resting against your chest. as you run a soothing hand down her back, the tension slowly begins to ebb away.

“this is…” jackie starts, her voice muffled against your shirt. she trails off, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. “i don’t know how to do this,” she admits after a moment, so quietly you almost don’t hear her.

“do what?” you ask softly, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on her shoulder blade.

“this,” she repeats, gesturing vaguely. “just…being close to someone like this. without it meaning something else”

it’s not hard to imagine what she means; jeff, with his hands always possessive, always wanting more. people who only ever see her as a trophy, as something to take rather than someone to cherish. time and time again, the fact that you could be somebody to do better for her has broken you. now, for the first time, a part of her had known that. the part that made her show up to your doorstep in the middle of the night.

“you’re doing fine,” you tell her, pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head.

as the minutes pass, jackie’s breathing evens out, the rise and fall of her chest syncing with your own. you keep your arms around her, your hand stroking her back in a steady rhythm until your hand grows too heavy to move it, until your lashes flutter shut. the quiet comfort of her warmth against you lulls you into a sleep you didn’t even realize you needed. the first sleep with jackie to your chest.

when you wake up, the sunlight is streaming softly through the curtains. you blink groggily, your fingers searching for the warmth of jackie’s body on the couch cushion by your side. that’s when you realize she’s gone.

the space beside you on the couch is empty, but the blanket draped over your shoulders wasn’t there before. you sit up slowly, the ache of disappointment impossible to ignore, but then your eyes catch something on the coffee table.

a note.

it’s written on the back of an old receipt, the ink smudged slightly at the edges, but the handwriting unmistakably jackie’s.

i’m sorry i left early. i didn’t want to wake you. thanks for last night. for everything. - j

at the bottom, there’s a tiny heart drawn hastily next to her initials. it’s small, almost insignificant, but it makes your chest ache in the way only jackie taylor ever could.

it’s not a grand gesture or a declaration of love. it’s subtle, restrained. so jackie. still, it’s enough. it’s a reminder that even if she keeps running, even if she never fully lets you in, she sees you. jackie needs you, in her own way, even if she’s too scared to say it outright.

you set the note down gently, brushing your fingers over the paper. for one fleeting night, she let herself be real with you. for one night, she couldn’t hide how much she wants to be loved.

the hope that maybe, one of these nights, she’ll stop running altogether, is exactly why you stay.

[blood-red-hummingbee]

Young and Dumb

NOT TWST, THIS IS FOR MY YOUNG JUSTICE DC SONA

She’d known him her whole life. They’d lived in the same shitty, run-down apartment building, and become fast friends, bonding over their propensity for fist-fighting at school and love of books. Riley had been the first and only person Jason had told about his home life. Her family may have been just as poor as his, but their door was always open to him, a warm meal and love waiting. When Willis got hauled away and Catherine OD’d, they’d tried to take him in, but he didn’t let them, despite how he obviously wanted to. They were living on a single mother’s minimum wage budget. Even in Crime Alley, that wouldn’t support five people. He was still over as often as they assured him they could afford though.

Then it happened. He got picked up by Bruce Wayne. He’d called them from his own phone, explaining every detail. Riley found it suspicious, but he’d promised that he’d tell her if anything bad happened. He never broke his promises.

A year after Jason got taken in by Gotham’s sweetheart, a new Robin showed up. She’d read about how he was violent, more so than the last Robin, not hesitating to shatter bones and wreck people’s shit. She liked the new Robin more, to be honest. She met him for the first time when she was fourteen. She’d stopped by a cafe on her way back from a binge at the library, and of course, that’s when someone chose to hold it up. Minutes after the man in the ski mask had burst into the building, Robin was charging through the doors, dealing with the robber with a few well placed kicks.

The room was silent after watching the brightly colored teen wipe the floor with the man with a gun - except for Riley. She’d laughed, drawing attention to herself, though she didn’t particularly care. Even with the whited-out lenses of his domino mask, she could feel Robin’s eyes on her, his lips curled up into a smirk. She matched it, meeting his gaze - as best she could anyway.

After that, she’d kept an eye out for the boy, not that she expected to run into him again for real. Until, one night.

She was out on her apartment’s small balcony, just enjoying the fresh air (well, as fresh as Gotham air could get), when across the street, she spotted a figure. She cocked her head, glancing around for anyone, before indulging her intrusive thoughts, and waving at the silhouette. After a moment, the figure jumped to another roof, seeming to ignore her. If it’d even noticed her in the first place. She should probably be thankful if it didn’t notice her. It was Gotham after all, and no one wanted attention from random people on rooftops if they were sane.

She shivered, pulling her small blanket around her and turning to go inside.

“Cold?”

She jumped, turning and whipping her fist out at the sudden voice. Robin just barely avoided her hit, leaning back just out of reach, perched on the small railing. She had two thoughts at that moment and voiced both of them.

“You’re an asshole, that was rude. And get off of there, it’s old and flimsy, and we can’t afford to replace it!” She waved her hand at him angrily, while he gaped at her slightly. “I mean it, off! You break it, you buy it!”

He plopped onto the balcony, crowding her slightly. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you doing?”

He smirked mischievously, leaning back on the railing. “I dunno, you’re the one who invited me over. That’s a bad idea, by the way. There’re weirdos out there. It’d be a shame for a pretty lil’ thing like you to pique their interest.”

She raised her eyebrows at the compliment, noting the distinct Narrows accent. “Says you.”

He clasped his hands and brought them to his chest, then down to his waist, swaying slightly and grinding the toe of his boot against the concrete. She’s sure that he was fluttering his eyelashes under his domino. “Aw, you think I’m purty?”

She snorted, resisting the urge to punch him in the arm. “No, you’re a weirdo. You go around flirting with every chick that waves at you? You should know I’m a minor and have lots of pepper spray.”

He half-laughed half-squawked, an action that seemed very familiar to her…

While he spluttered out a defense - ‘Wha- I’m not- I don’t-’ - she studied him a bit closer. She sucked at names, but she never forgot a face. Not in Gotham where seeing a person more than once was most likely evidence of something bad.

The slope of his nose, the shape of his jaw and the chubby cheeks peeking out from under his mask. His wavy black hair, and the way his left front tooth stuck out just a bit farther than his right…

The realization struck her abruptly, and she didn’t quite know how to feel. Several things made sense suddenly, though. 

Her best friend was Robin.

… Was she gonna have to tell him about her powers now?

Part Two!

[bunnyluvx]

first kisses with overwatch characters! ♡

featuring: reinhardt, venture, mercy & brigitte x gn!reader. (all separate)

warnings: minors and ageless blogs dni regardless of content.

tags: fluff | first kisses | holiday themes in reinhardt's section | canon non-binary character | neurodivergent! venture | pebbling | artist!reader | poet!reader | kind of rough kissing w/ brigitte but it's not suggestive/nsfw | second pov | no y/n use

a/n: HI EVERYONE!! i have officially hit over 100 posts and thank you to everyone and anyone who has interacted with my content. thank you to my loved ones who have shown support through the time that i have had this blog, it truly means the world. happy holidays to all who are celebrating around this time of year, and have a good day if you're not!! enjoy some fluff!

date started: 4:15PM, december 12th, 2024.

date finished: 5:03PM. december 21st, 2024.

divider credit: hearts by @isisjupiter, support by @cafekitsune

wc: 2k | ao3

reinhardt ♡

the two of you have known each other for many years. you were in the crusaders together, and fought alongside one another for as long as you could remember. what used to be a crush turned into a deep-set yearning the more time passed by. you swear that no one you have never ached for someone the way that you ached for him, and he could say the same about you. the difference between the two of you is that he was always more vocal about his affections. you are the type of person who shows your love through actions instead of words, and while reinhardt has never hesitated to show you that he adores you, he was far more outspoken about it than you were. there were many times where he was boasting about how wonderful you are, the way that you would dote on him and just how lovely you are. you would get embarrassed and try to quiet him, which only made him laugh and become louder. you're a pair of adorable fools.

when reinhardt mentioned meeting his family for the first time, you were nervous. you knew that the lindholms were people that reinhardt adored, and that there were a lot of them, so you were very intimidated. you wanted to make a good impression and do right by reinhardt, but you had never let him down before. you were very quickly accepted into the lindholm family, and you came the love them just as much as reinhardt does. family is something that reinhardt holds close to his heart, so seeing you get along so well with everyone set into stone that you were the person that he wanted to be with.

it was the holiday season, and you were invited to spend it with the lindholms once again. the moon was lounging in the sky, the stars by its side when you and reinhardt were enacting a story for the children. of course, reinhardt was the knight come to save the day, and you were his royal in distress. you collaborated in narration with him while he battled pillows and stuffed animals, pretending that they were ferocious beasts that kept him from you. he fiercely defeated every enemy that blocked his path with a plastic sword, and when he finally reached you, you laid your hand over your heart and fell into his arms. he spun you around while holding you bridal style, laughter from all parties singing into the air. finally, the journey had come to an end, and the large man dipped you down and asked, "i don't suppose that you have a reward for me, your highness?"

you knew exactly what he meant, and you shook your head playfully at his antics. "but of course i do." you said, then turned to the children, "but should i?"

the tiny audience screeched for you to kiss him. you couldn't possibly deny them, so you leaned in and rewarded your diligent hero with a kiss. there was absolutely no hesitation from reinhardt, returning your gesture like it was the most natural thing in the world to him. his lips were dry, but he was ever so warm. the kids lost it and all began squealing and yelling excitedly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, strong arms pulling you closer to him as he slightly rose from the dip. you both agree that you would have loved to become official much sooner, but that moment was perfect. after all of the longing, there could be no moment more fitting for you to your devotion to each other.

venture ♡

i feel like venture gets really nervous when it comes to you. they don't find themself feeling so strongly about just anyone, so when they realized that they were developing feelings for you, they didn't really know what to do about it. you felt similarly, always tripping over your words when talking to them, laughing a little too hard at one of their jokes or taking note of every detail that you could retain about their interests. neither of you made any moves that were obvious to yourselves, but everyone around you was in agony.

venture's well-known way of showing affection to their loved ones is through pebbling. they'll find something that they think someone will like, and rush to give it to them. some of the overwatch team know this about venture and find it super endearing when they are on the receiving end of their gift-giving, but when they all noticed that you became venture's favorite person to gift to, they started to become suspicious. you returned their generosity by getting them any and everything that you could find that took to their interests, and they were always over the moon about it. they would brag to other members of overwatch about what you got them and talk for hours about it. neither of you are very subtle when it comes to your feelings, so they all figured out pretty quickly that the two of you were into each other and just never said anything.

you had been working on something for a long time, and when you finally finished it, you knew that you had to give it to venture as soon as humanly possible. you were hanging out in their room when you showed them a statue that you hand-carved of the two of you, and to say that venture was excited would be an understatement. they marveled at your creation, gently cradling it in their hands and admiring all of the little details that you added. they talked about the material that you used and gushed before setting the statue aside, opening their arms and blurting out, "I WANNA KISS YOU SO BAD!!!!"

upon realizing what they said, the archaeologist slammed both of their hands over their mouth with wide eyes. they started rambling apologies and you were just as surprised, cheeks growing hot on your face. you tried to console them before taking their hands in your own and telling them, "i want you to kiss me."

surprise spreads across their face, though it's quickly replaced by excitement. their eyes sparkle and they smile widely before wrapping their arms around your neck and kissing you. their lips were soft, a little chapped but you didn't mind, and their kiss was ever so tender. you felt so lucky that of all people, you are the person that they feel safe with. and everyday, they thank their lucky stars that you stand at their side through every adventure.

mercy ♡

poetry has always been the best way that you express your feelings. before becoming official with mercy, you were always telling her that she was the most beautiful, loving, unique soul that you had ever met. not to say that you didn't show your affections through your actions too, as mercy is the type of person who doesn't just want to hear things, she wants you to show it. and you did. time and time again, you helped mercy clean up after a hard fought battle, went out for coffee with her and listened to her when she needed you to. you had proven to mercy that you were serious about your feelings for her, you just like to express it through words.

so, when you finally decided that you wanted to make things official with her, you wrote her a poem. you spent a long time working on it, revising and sometimes even starting something completely new. after everything that the two of you had been through together, and because of how important she is to you, you wanted it to be perfect.

the night that you read it to her, she was smitten. you had become one of the most important people in her life, and hearing you express your deepest, truest feelings to her solidified it in her head that you are the person she wanted. your performance was exquisite, albeit a little dramatic due to your theatric nature, but that's just one more thing that she loved about you. she applauded once you were finished and chuckled, standing before approaching you and holding your hands. "ever the charmer, you are." she muses lightheartedly.

you chuckled and placed a hand on her hip. "am i charming enough for a kiss?" you asked, partially teasing and really not at the same time.

the woman chuckles and taunts, "just charming enough."

her lips felt like magic as they connected to yours. both of your arms come around her to encase her in an embrace, pulling her close to your body as you return her affection. her hands rested on your chest and she gratefully kept against you. you hadn't become official sooner because mercy wanted to focus on her career in overwatch, but the closer that you grew, the more that you showed her that you will always have her back. you came to her when she needed you most, and she always did the same for you. she believes that with you by her side, the chances of ending this war are far greater than none.

brigitte ♡

i imagine that brigitte is the type of person who is very private about her love life, due to one of her interactions with tracer. tracer asks if she's seeing anyone, and brigitte says that she'll tell her later. with that being said, i think romance is a personal experience for her, so she doesn't talk too openly about it. therefore, when you began to grow romantically involved with brigitte, she told you that she didn't want it to be too public. you both agreed to only keep it to you and a few of your close loved ones, and you were alright with this arrangement. so long as brigitte is comfortable, you are too.

this was your dynamic for awhile. around others, all interactions you shared were purely platonic, but when you were alone, you were able to flirt, snuggle and leave lingering touches to your hearts content. it was difficult sometimes, but in the end, it was always worth it to have time with her later on. many nights that you spent together were just sitting around and talking. brigitte has always been an easy person to talk to, and when you are with her, you feel as though you could tell her anything without any judgement. nothing is better than a conversation with her.

it was one of those nights that you shared your first kiss with brigitte. you were talking about the way that your relationship has progressed, and how every day, your feelings for her grew stronger and stronger. she was looking at you like you were her everything, a crooked smile tilting onto her lips. in that moment, no one else existed in her world outside of the two of you. she listened to you talk about how much you adored her, a little pink coming to her cheeks. never has she felt so strongly about anyone, and never has she been so sure that she has wanted something the way that she wants you. while you were rambling, you weren't upfront with what you were trying to say, but you didn't have to. because brigitte knew how you felt. so, she cupped one side of your face and confessed, "i love you too."

you swore that you felt like you were flying the moment that your lips touched. her lips were soft and the pressure was gentle. her hand was warm and rough against your skin, yet cradled you so carefully. so much weight, tension and longing lifted from your shoulders when she finally made her move, and you weren't hesitant to return the gesture. you took her face in both hands and kissed her hard, and her hand came up to hold your face while her lips returned your roughness. you were both finally put out of your misery after so much time spent yearning for each other. you would make your relationship official that night, and slowly became more open about it to everyone in your lives. though, none of this came before brigitte smothered you in all of her kisses and affection.

@BUNNYLUVX ,, all rights reserved. do not copy/plagiarize any of my works or submit it into ai. any and all support is appreciated! <3