#it's just a 1 tile block really

[awingedllama]

i miss sims 3 room hiders, so i did another thing

[sunnie-angel]

week 1 (oct. 4) | voice kink

✮⋆˙ baby (2.3k)

it's been a long, shitty day and all jason wants to do is call his baby back home. they have a great idea of how to make the day end on a high note

tags: gn!reader, established relationship, guided masturbation, phone sex, voice kink, exhibitionism, sub!jason

⊘ this is an 18+ fic. minors do not interact, you will be blocked

Jason Todd throws himself onto the shitty motel bed and groans with relief. See, normally he wouldn’t collapse into bed right after a shower with his curls still damp but it’s been such a long day that he can’t be assed about flattening them on the cardboard thick pillow. He’s spent enough time since his rebirth to figure out how to make his curling hair look not terrible even after wearing a helmet for hours on end but the 18-metre tall intergalactic monster really killed any desire to make an effort.

Now Jason’s strictly a local guy – a hometown hero, if you will – but Dick had asked with his perfected puppy eyes and sickening earnestness and now here Jason is, all the way on the other side of the country from you and privately wanting a word with Lovecraft over just where he got his inspiration for Cthulu from. Somehow, due to unknown methods of persuasion (Dick’s puppy eyes), Jason had signed himself up to stay behind a second day just to make sure the quasi-scientifical-mostly-magical inter-dimensional crazy glue actually held the fabric of the universe together. So here he is, stuck in the least sleazy motel that had survived the day’s carnage with walls so paper thin he can hear Roy’s terrible singing echoing off the shower tiles. ‘Flawless victory’ or whatever the line is.

Too exhausted to change out of his towel or bother getting up to bang on the wall he shares with Roy, Jason paws at the night stand for his phone. Hopefully it’s had enough time to charge because he’s been itching to call home ever since he left the city boundaries. Listening to the phone ring, he closes his eyes, rests the back of his wrist across his forehead and waits. God he hopes you pick up.

“Hiya baby,” you greet him, voice tinny through the phone’s speakers. “You have fun fighting the creature from the deep? It was all over the news.”

“Remind me never to do Dick a favour ever again,” Jason grumbles. “Give me a crime lord with a hard on for sequins and leather any day. Never again.”

“Good, I don’t have to worry about you suddenly wanting to become a space man,” you snip back. Jason can just picture you nodding along with your words, already mentally discarding a desire that hadn’t even crossed his mind.

“See if I ever leave the state again! I had to spend 30 minutes in the shower trying to get the mysterious space gunk off and I don’t think any amount of washing is going to get my pants back to normal.” Genuinely Jason feels rubbed raw, the cheap bar soap in the bathroom basically doing nothing against the battle wreckage. He’s only glad he wore his second favourite pair of tac pants today. “Shit, I don’t think I even packed any spare underwear.”

“Oh so it’s that kind of phone call, huh?” your voice suddenly drops, low and purring where it was playful earlier.

“Wha– no, I didn’t– I mean,” Jason splutters. The motel room is suddenly boiling, AC probably on the fritz.

“Uh-huh, I’m sure you didn’t, baby,” you humor him. “Calling me up in nothing but a towel and lettin’ me know you don’t even have any underwear on.”  

“I just really need to do laundry!” is what comes out of Jason’s mouth in a mortifying mixture of embarrassment and growing horniness.

“All that talk about leather and showering, and you aren’t teasing me, hmm?” Jason can feel his hesitation crumbling at the sound of your voice, all whiskey and sin. “Left me alone for the whole weekend, aching for your touch. But you’re not teasing, right baby?”

“I wouldn’t wanna–“ Jason swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing, “–wanna leave you hangin’. But I uh, I don’t really know how to do this.” He whispers the last part like a secret, a confession of his innocence just for your ears. 

You laugh with delight, not even the busted speakers able to disguise the richness of it. Jason thinks he’d quite like to bathe in that sound.

“I’ve got you baby, you don’t need to worry about that. You just gotta come along for the ride. Can you do that? Just make yourself feel good with me?”

Jason nods, too lightheaded with how fast this conversation has changed direction to realize you can’t see him.

“Need you to use your words Jay,” you prompt him.

He flushes, embarrassment ripping through him.

“Y-yeah. I can do that. I can be sweet,” voice strangled in his throat. “But gotta– gotta be quiet ‘cause the walls are thin.”

“Okay! We can make quiet work. Baby’s first phone sex,” you say with palpable glee. Jason could swear he hears you rubbing your hands together, scheming. “Are you sitting or standing?”

“M’lying down,” he mumbles. “On the bed.” Jason’s trying to be helpful – he really is! – but the self-consciousness is creeping in, blurring out the edges of his vision. His room seems larger than it was an hour ago, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of space that doesn’t have you in it. The terrible singing through the walls echoes.

“Why don’t you prop yourself up on the pillows, get yourself all nice and comfy,” you direct him. There’s a corresponding sound of rustling coming over your end of the phone as Jason adjusts himself. Tucks two pillows under his back and neck until he’s satisfied that this is probably what you want from him. The cheap duvet scratches at his back, fabric bunching up beneath him.

“What about you?” he asks, sinking back into the disappointingly thin pillows.

“Me? I’m lying in our big, empty bed. It’s a little cold without the blankets, you can see my nipples right through my shirt.” Jason has to swallow back a sudden mouthful of saliva at the image. “Oh! And I put a towel down because I don’t want to sleep in the wet spot later and I plan on you making me messy.”

Jason has to fight the audible click of his jaw to keep the phone balanced on the pillow beside him as his muscles tense.

“Yeah? All of that for me?” he manages to get out.

“Why would I ever wanna do this with anyone else?” Something warm and possessive curls through Jason’s gut. “Now, you still in that little towel you were telling me about?” you ask.

“Uh-huh, still damp too.”

“Bet your skin is all lovely and warm. Poor baby rubbed himself raw trying to get clean, bet my baby’s just so sensitive now,” you drawl.

Jason looks down at himself, flushed torso still beaded with water. The towel, loosely wrapped around his waist, does very little to hide his dick chubbing up. It would be embarrassing, how quickly he gets hard for you with just a few coy words, if it wasn’t so hot. A door slams in another room.

“S’cold here. Feels– feels real nice on me.” It’s true. The working AC blasts directly onto his heated skin, gooseflesh rising across his forearms.

“Good. Can you touch yourself baby – only above the waist – like I’m the one touching you. Want you to tell me as you do it.”

Jason swallows. Hard. Slowly drags a hand up across his torso to press his thumb into the divot of his collarbone. Lips part with anticipation.

“Your fingers are on m’clavicle,” he whispers.  Slowly he drags his hand down to cup his chest, nipples tight from cold and arousal. “Now you’re touchin’ my chest. Squeezing. M’skin’s so sensitive, feels real nice.”

“Yeah? You lettin’ me feel up your tits baby?” you whisper and Jason chokes. Feels something hot unfurl in his brain at hearing his chest called something so vulgar.

“They’re not– not– ” he stutters.

“Not what?” you cut him off. “Not tits? ‘Course they are, nice big handfuls too. Want you to cup your tits baby, want you to play with them.”

Jason does, cups each pec in a large hand and squeezes, marvels at how his tits spill out around his fingers even as he feels the blush crawling down his chest. The side of a finger brushes a nipple and he has to bite back a groan at the sensation. Arches his back just to get a better view, imagines your hands are the ones on him. You don’t stop talking the whole time.

“–that be fun? I bet I could make you come just from playing with your tits. But I wanna see that in person so let’s wait on that, hmm?”

If Jason’s brain wasn’t melting out of his ears, he’d be able to tell you exactly how big a fan he is of that idea. As it is, he manages a sort of hrnng in a register he’s never been able to hit without a sharp kick to the balls first. He freezes, but Roy’s awful banging about continues. Jason sighs in relief.

“Oh you would like that. Now, take one of those nice big hands of yours and wrap it around your throat. Don’t squeeze, just hold it there for me baby. Take your time and unwrap yourself for me.”

With his eyes closed, he can almost picture it’s your smaller hand a steadying weight across his collarbones. Idly he trails his other hand down his torso, lets it trace over scars and follows his happy trail down to where it meets the knotted towel.

“Words,  baby,” you prompt him and he has to fight the thick syrup in his veins to put a thought together.

“M’undoin’ the towel,” he whisper slurs.

The cold air finally hitting his damp cock is heady. It springs up, already drooling with pre and Jason knows he’s not gonna last much longer with you purring in his ear. He reaches down and grabs hold of himself, has to bite his lip and close his eyes against how raw it feels.

“Holdin’ the base. Gonna– gonna cum if I don’,” he pants. 

There’s rustling on the end of the line, slick wet sounds as you start to split yourself open on your own fingers. Something like pride throbs in his chest at the sound, that even all the way over here he can still get you desperate for him.

“Good baby, good,” you praise him and he puffs up at that, chest arching out. “Can take your hand off your throat now, want you to play with yourself.”

His other hand slowly trails down to join the first. Jason huffs when it brushes a particularly sensitive patch of skin, gooseflesh raised. He cradles his balls with it, feels how heavy and tight they already are from just some words and a few light touches. Rolls them in his palm and has to wheeze out a breath between clenched teeth at how goddamn good it feels.

“It’s– m’balls are heavy. Needta– needta come,” he grits out. Begging seems like a good idea, why hasn’t he tried begging yet? “Please?”

“Ye-ah baby,” you say. It’s the first time all night that your composure has slipped and Jason is preening at the slight hitch he put in your voice. “Want you to fuck your fist like you’re fucking me and then you come alright?” 

Jason can’t do much more than pant his agreement into the phone, voice stolen by the feeling of that first tentative stroke of his cock. God he wishes it was your hand, or better yet the hot, tight clutch of your body welcoming him home. With his hand slicked in pre and almost painfully tight, he can imagine its you sinking down around him with that cheshire cat grin of yours. Lewd, wet sounds of flesh on flesh fill the motel room as Jason works himself over. Sets a vicious twist of his wrist to the end of each stroke that has him gasping for air, hips bucking up to meet it. His teeth ache with the strength of his desire to come, something hot and heavy gathering low at the base of his spine.

“M’close,” he grunts, wants to give you what you want.

The wet, filthy sounds from your end of the line speed up in their intensity.

“Wanna hear you when you come baby,” you gasp, all pretense dissolved under the building pleasure.

And Jason wants to be good but, but–

“Roy’s– Roy’s gonna hear.”

“Yeah? What’s he gonna hear? You being a good boy for me baby, doing exactly as your told? He gonna hear just how desperate your are to get your dick wet for me?”

Jason goddamn whines, high and wanton and desperate for your approval. The singing from next door abruptly stops. I hope that doesn’t awaken anything in me, Jason thinks hysterically before he stops thinking at all.

He comes babbling your name like a holy catechism, cum spurting all over his fist and belly. Muscles spasming under skin that feels too tight, mouth drier than dirt. Spent and over-sensitive, he lets go of his dick just as he hears your own orgasm take you under. Jelly limbed and feeling better than he has all day, he lolls cum drunk on the bed. Two sharp rapid knocks on the wall startle him but do nothing to cut through the lovely post-orgasmic high. If anyone deserves to be a little out of it in this moment, it’s him.

“Saw you took a pretty bad tumble...” you trail off leadingly, voice lilting upwards.

“Looked a lot worse than it was. Medics gave me a clean bill of health and everything.” It’s odd to be the one doing the soothing, Jason thinks, still fucked out and blinking away stars.

“But you’d tell me if it wasn’t, right?” you press him.

“Course baby, you’d be the first person I call.”

[lacroixqueen]

carve your name into my bedpost stalker deadpool x fem!reader (18+, very explicit non-con)

Summary: deadpool breaks into reader's apartment after stalking her. non-con stuff ensues, don't like don't read.

Pairing: stalker deadpool x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: very explicit penetrative non-con, choking, stalking

Part 1, not necessary for this fic but provides context

Note: I'm soso sorry this took so long this week was so busy and I had the worst writer's block ever. Please enjoy!

You were shocked when you learned that your apartment was broken into the other day. Immediately after walking into your home, you could tell that someone was there before. The objects you arranged so painstakingly and meticulously on your shelves were moved ever so slightly. Even the smell was subtly different. 

And your dresser. As soon as you opened the top drawer, your heart sank into your stomach. You could tell all your underwear was rifled through. And where was that extra pair of tights you kept around?

The note he left on your kitchen table was the icing on the cake. The doodle of the mask. You recognized it from earlier that morning.. The guy in the elevator who seemed a little bit odd but overall seemed friendly enough. You wanted to kick yourself for deciding to be nice to a stranger just for once. 

The police came and searched everything, of course. They told you it was “inconclusive” and that “anyone could have written the note”. They advised you to lock your doors at night, and that they would have a patrol car circle around your neighborhood. And just like that, they were gone and you were alone again. 

You made a point to close all your curtains and deadbolt all your doors. But he was still watching you, of course, perched on a tree branch right outside your window. He thought it was adorable, really, that you thought a couple metal locks and keys would somehow prevent him from breaking and entering again. 

You changed into your lingerie slip dress, careful to look over your shoulder just to check the corner of your bedroom. You figured at this point, since law enforcement was unwilling to do anything, you might as well try to get some rest and figure out a new game plan in the morning. Curling up in bed, you hugged your pillow close to your chest and drifted off into a deep slumber. 

He liked to watch you sleep. The way your chest slowly rose and fell with every breath you took. How your lingerie was so short it barely covered the tops of your thighs. Your soft tits pressed up against the sheets. That subtle furrow between your brows and pout in your lips. And how peaceful you looked. He wished he could capture this moment and frame it so he could enjoy it for the rest of eternity. 

He couldn’t take sitting around waiting anymore. He just wanted to come in and touch you. With one smooth motion, he leapt from the branch and onto your windowsill. He took his blade and gently drew an indent through one of the bottom tiles. Gingerly, he pushed the glass through. Slipping his hand through the opening, he unlocked your window from the inside. 

I am just too good, he snickered to himself, quite proud of his accomplishment. He lifted up the window and carefully stepped onto the carpet, extra cautious not to awaken you. He quickly snuck into your bed, sliding in to spoon you from behind. 

He liked how warm you felt against his skin. It was almost as if, even for a second, that he was no longer in the constant state of pain he was always in. You shifted around slightly in your sleep, and to his surprise, actually cuddled up even closer against him. You murmured something softly to yourself, and then returned back to your peaceful rest. 

He traced the contour of your thighs, hips, and waist with his gloved fingertips, appreciating the fine texture of your lingerie. He gently pushed locks of your hair out of the way to expose your neck. 

Quietly, he lifted up his mask just enough to reveal his lips and suckled on the sensitive curve of your neck. He cradled your round breasts in his hands, pressing his body against your back as he worshiped your soft, supple skin with his mouth. 

You moaned a little in your sleep, raising up your hands slightly to catch his, and he gladly interlaced your fingers with his own. He was shocked that you were taking this so well, mirroring all of his motions and going with the flow as he ravaged you so freely. It only emboldened him to do more. 

He ventured two of his fingers in between your lips, gently teasing the top of your tongue while he reached for the back of your throat. This was enough to stir you from your slumber, and you woke up groggily to the moonlight pouring through your window. 

“Mffhn..” you sputtered through his fingertips sleepily. “Hwghn!”

“Shh shh shh..” Deadpool whispered, his arm immediately tightening around your waist to prevent you from wriggling away. “You are safe.. you’re with me after all!”

Immediately, your blood ran cold, heart dropping into the deepest pits of your stomach. “How the hell did you even get in here?!” you exclaimed, pushing his hand out of your mouth and struggling to escape from his grasp. 

“Well it’s not like you live in some maximum security prison,” Wade explained matter-of-factly. “I just scaled your building, climbed up the conveniently placed sycamore out there, beautiful specimen by the way, smashed your window, and voila! Trespassing 101.”

“You are insane!” you cried out, trying to push his arm loose so you could break free but failing miserably at the same time. “I had to call the police, did you know that? How the hell did you even find out where I live? I barely even spoke a sentence to you that day!”

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” the mercenary said. “You would be surprised at the amount of information someone could find out about you with just your name. And besides, you were sweet enough to give me a lukewarm skinny vanilla latte the other day. You know I had to pay it forward and return the favor..”

“I just want you to leave me alone, please,” you begged, trying to hold back tears. “I haven’t done anything to anyone, I just want to live my life. Please, just tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

“You are so naive, you know that?” Wade teased, watching you begin to cry helplessly. “It’s not the fact that you’ve done anything, it’s that you haven’t done anything. And also that I��m just an intensely obsessive person who tends to hyperfixate on whatever catches my attention, speaking of which, that is definitely something I should bring up in therapy next week.”

“I don’t understand..” you sighed, teardrops falling down your cheek, which Wade gladly licked up, much to your dismay. He brushed his hot tongue against your sensitive skin, tasting your salty tears without even an ounce of hesitation. 

“A-are you going to kill me?” you stammered, turning your face as far away from him as possible as he kissed your wet cheek. 

“Kill you?” Wade repeated, drawing back slightly. “Who do you think I am, a monster? I mean, to be fair, yes, I do occasionally take the odd hit deal every now and then, but only if it is within my paygrade! After the entire saving the world as we know it thing, I don’t know if you heard about it, but people have been blowing my phone up non-stop, it’s out of control!”

You gasped as his free hand reached up to grasp firmly around your throat, his pressure increasing ever so slightly by the second. 

“But I gotta say,” his tone immediately darkened. “The feeling of choking someone so hard, to the point where they are right at the cusp between life and death, never fails to get me going. I mean, I am so hard right now, you wouldn’t believe it!”

You tried to gulp up a breath of air, but his hold was unrelenting. You whimpered helplessly when you felt his hand untangle from around your waist and lift up the bottom of your lingerie dress to reveal your lacy thong. 

“Ooooh, now what do we have here,” he snickered to himself, fondling your exposed ass and smacking it hard, causing your entire body to shake. 

“Pl-please no..” you begged, more tears cascading down your face. “I-I haven’t done it yet.. with anyone. I want my first time to be special. You can do anything to me just please, not that.”

Wade gasped, quite taken aback by your statement. “You’re a virgin?” he asked, finally releasing his grip from around your neck. He could feel your body shaking helplessly against him out of fear. “Oh. My. God. That was something I did not expect. I mean, absolutely, I thought you looked like a sweet innocent little thing but to not give yourself away to anyone even once? How the hell does that even happen? Is it like a religious thing or something? Because I respect all religions. One of my best friends, Dopinder is Hindu. Oh, and my roommate, Blind Al, took me to church one Sunday and I truly saw the light that day!”

“N-no it’s not that,” you stuttered, coughing up some of your saliva. “I just.. haven’t had the opportunity I guess.”

“Well you are in for a treat,” the assassin said with a tone of finality, his attention returning to your skimpy underwear. “Because I have been told by many that I fuck hard. Someone even told me that I was the best they ever had. But that’s because they fucked me, eh, regardless it was still an amazing experience.”

“Please don’t..” you whined, trying to pull down the skirt of your lingerie to cover up. “I-I don’t want to do it with you..”

“I am hurt!” Wade replied, clasping his heart theatrically. “After my entire sales pitch? You know, you really are something, Y/N. Most people would be thrilled, over the moon right now. But you are practically begging me to stop! Well, let’s see if we can change your mind..”

He pushed your hand out of the way, and proceeded to tug the thin fabric covering you to the side, revealing your pretty, swollen pussy. 

“My god,” the assassin breathed to himself, allowing his fingertips to dance over your delectable peach. “Y/N, you are perfect. I mean, look at this thing. She’s practically begging me to fuck her. And you’re saying no one else has ever had you before? This has gotta be some sort of sick joke.” 

He leaned down, as if to talk to your pussy. “I am so sorry that no one has ever given you the attention you deserve before. But I am gonna make sure that this will be the best fuck of your life. Okay? Okay, good talk.” 

You grabbed your pillow and hugged it close to your chest, burying your tear-stained face against it, bracing yourself for whatever was to come next. “J-just.. Be gentle please. If you’re going to do it anyway, please don’t make it hurt.”

Wade began to rub your tight little mound, drawing undulating circles over your labia, coaxing it to open up for him. He could feel your juices slowly sliding through, coating his leather-gloved fingers. 

“Ooo, you’re getting wet, Y/N,” he laughed. “And don’t you worry your sweet little head, my angel baby girl. I will take very, very good care of you..” Without another word, he slipped his index finger inside of you, causing you to clench tightly around him. 

You sunk your teeth into the fabric of your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt him penetrate you for the first time. 

“You are already resisting me, even if it’s just a finger,” Wade murmured. “You need to relax, Y/N. Just let me do all the work, okay? You just lay there and be the adorable pillow princess I know that you are.”

“But it hurts,” you sobbed quietly, clutching the pillow even tighter. 

“I know, baby, I know,” Wade cooed, his voice surprisingly gentle. You were taken aback by how quickly his tone could shift. In the matter of a split second. 

He felt your vagina slowly open up to him, enticing him to slip his middle finger in as well. “Now how does this one feel, Y/N?”

You were squeezing your knees together, still crying softly to yourself. Wade looked over your neck, gently prying the pillow out of your hand. “Let me see your face.”

You looked away from him, too scared to even make eye contact. He leaned down and kissed over your tears, still fingers-deep inside of you. “God, you are so fucking precious, you know that? It’s extremely irritating.”

“I’m.. sorry?” you said confusedly, bringing the pillow back over your face. 

Wade shook his head as he continued to finger your innocent pussy, pistoning his fingers back and forth. “Yeah, well, you should be. Because it’s very fucking distracting.”

You sighed as you felt his two expert digits pushing in and out of you, gasping when he stretched them apart, trying to test your limit. 

“You are soaking wet..” Wade breathed, as he withdrew his gloved hand and licked you off of him, a string of saliva connecting between his lips and fingertips. “I think you’re ready for me, Y/N.”

“N-no please don’t!” you cried, trying to wriggle away from him, but his arm already snaked back around your waist, locking you in place. 

“Oh, but I have to now,” Deadpool replied with glee. “We can’t just let the readers down without showing the grand finale. They’ve read up to this point, after all. I mean, that’s like the best part!”

He carefully unzipped his fly, allowing his cock to free out, pressing it up against your mound. He pushed and prodded it up against you, trying to elicit a reaction out of you. “How does this feel, Y/N?”

“It feels.. weird,” you responded, clenching your legs together out of apprehension. “W-would you even fit?”

“I’ll sure as hell try,” Wade said, teasing your entrance by pressing his tip right up against you. “You aren't getting out of this that easy, Y/N. If it doesn’t fit, I’ll make it fit. You just sit there and take it. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a single damn thing. Okay?”

He gradually pushed himself inside of you, filling you up slowly and surely. He could feel the insides of your walls hugging up against him, encouraging him even more. 

“Do you like that, Y/N?” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath splashing over your neck. “Do you like the feeling of me inside of you like this? Because I fucking love it. Like, you are so tight! I can barely even move, it’s crazy!”

Your hand reached down over your lower abdomen, feeling the slight outline of him over your fingertips. “I-it just sort of hurts..”

“Yeah?” Wade breathed, his free hand reaching up and clasping around your neck again. “Does it hurt when I do this, then?” He tightened his grasp around your throat, watching with sadistic excitement as you struggled to breathe while taking him at the same time. 

“You know what’s really fucked up, Y/N?” the mercenary said, as he slowly began to move in and out of you, gauging your reaction each time. “I was a hitman for a long time. Like, years. Killing all sorts of unsavory types. But you know what my favorite part of the job was? And why I was so fucking good at it?”

“Wh-why?” you moaned out, a blush beginning to creep over your face as he rammed inside of you. You didn’t truly understand at first, but you were starting to enjoy this feeling. 

“Because I liked to watch people suffer,” he replied simply, not taking his eyes off of you. “And still do, now that I think of it. I like to see people writhe in pain. Like when I pierced someone with a sword, literally straight through his stomach. And he just looked at me, screaming. And I just watched him bleed out right in front of me. Most people would be mortified after seeing such a thing but I was.. Happier than I’ve ever been.”

You looked down, watching as his cock thrusted into you with enough vigor to make the bed squeak with every beat. You sighed, moaning his name, begging him to slow down even just for a second, but he just kept going without so much as a second thought. 

“Or this other time,” Wade continued. “When I held a gun up to some guy’s head. And I was right about to pull the trigger. And he just looked up at me, begging for me not to. How he has a wife and kids, and a whole life ahead of him and blah blah blah. In that moment I felt like I had so much.. power. It was the most alive I’ve ever been.”

You were beginning to see stars at this point, gasping as he pushed so deep into you that you were scared you were going to break open.

 

“But you know who my favorite of all my victims is?” he asked, his hand releasing your neck and gliding playfully over your cleavage, teasing your hardened nipples with his fingertips. 

“Who?” you looked over at him, locking eyes with him for the first time. 

He gently lifted up your leg so he could access you even more. 

“You,” he said while cumming inside of you. “Watching you practically beg me not to fuck you, and me doing it anyway. You crying into your little pillow. The life in your eyes slowly melting away when I was choking you.. everything about you, really. It just makes me so fucking turned on.”

“Pl-please don’t finish inside me,” you breathed, watching helplessly as his cream dripped generously out of you after he pulled out, his cum gushing out like a faucet. You felt your eyes roll into the back of your head and your vision cloud over. 

“Well, that was a blast!” Wade said, chuckling to himself at his own awful joke, zipping his fly back up. He leaned over you, slapping you gently on your cheek. “And you did so good, too.”

Before he left your room, he made sure to leave a mark that he was here. Unsheathing one of his katanas, he leaned over your bed, and created what he liked to call a masterpiece into your bedpost. 

“Y/N.. and Deadpool!” he murmured, carefully carving yours and his initials inside a heart into the wood. He also made sure to draw his signature masked face right below. “Aaand all done! So you can cherish this moment forever.”

Without another word, Wade crawled out of your window and disappeared into the night, leaving you in a sticky, dripping mess.

[samkerrworshipper]

she’s on the run

beautiful girl series part 4 -> pt.1 -> pt.2 -> pt.3

leah williamson x daughter reader, jordan nobbs x daughter reader

this was created whilst i listened to so long, london and florida!!!!

You waited until Leah had fully descended the stairs, waiting patiently until you heard Lia and her talking in the kitchen before you started to creep off of your bed and towards your open window. It was a easy climb, one you’d made hundreds of times, you hardly batted an eyelid as you climbed out of the window, your legs swinging out and over until they hit the tiling of the roof. After that it was a simple jump from the roof too the gravel drive way, your only concern was trying to be as quiet as possible, so instead of jumping as normal, you stepped to the edge of the tiles, being ever so careful to make sure that you didn’t slip and fall. Once you got to the edge you sat down, scooting until your feet were hanging over the edge, turning onto your stomach and sliding down until your feet found one of the tresses on the side.

It was a odd form of rock climbing but with some arm strength and dodgy footing, you managed to eventually get your feet onto the gravel of your moms driveway.

You didn’t look backwards as you tiptoed across the driveway, the only think you focused on was turning your location off before starting to jog away from your mom’s house.

You didn’t know where you were going, you just knew that you needed to get far enough away that your moms friends who crowded all of the surrounding neighbourhoods couldn’t find you, you needed a way out of here.

You didn’t have a lot of options, and the options you did have were shitty, but there wasn’t really any others that would work.

You pulled your phone out of your pocket as you rounded the corner of the block, ducking into the first alleyway that you spotted.

There were a couple of numbers that were options, some better than others, you went with the first one that came to head.

The phone rings out for a few seconds, your fingers jitter against the sides of your plastic case, whether you feel prepared to admit it or not, you’re going through withdrawals, it’s around now that you’re body is accustomed to shooting up, to getting a hit of drugs and right now it’s becoming more obvious by the minute how desperate your body is for that high that your body is used to receiving.

Maya had become the older sister that you never had, she cared about you, she treated you with more care and love then anybody else in your life, there wasn’t really any hesitation in your mind as you pressed down on her contact, the ringing noise being the only thing to register in your mind.

It rang out for a while, before your phone went silent for a few seconds.

Originally, you thought that it had rung out, but then there was a groan and something else from the other side of the phone.

“Babygirl?”

You don’t know where the nickname had come from, but along the way it had just become the way that Maya had chosen to address you.

“Hey, I need your help, where are you?”

You heard some rustling, and then Maya’s voice.

“I’m still at Matt’s house, what’s happened?”

Fuck. Fuck.

Matt was a problem, but he was one of the only people who could solve your main problem right now, that was all that was at the forefront of your mind.

“Mom found out about the drugs, she took them off me. I’m crashing, can you come get me?”

More rustling, then someone talking in the background.

“Fuck, kid. I’m gonna come get you alright, we’ll get you to Matt’s house and he’ll look out for you, it’s gonna be okay, we’ll look after you, I always look out for my girls.”

More rustling, accompanied by more background talk.

“Just send me your location alright, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You nod your head, taking in the information and finding that your hands and body seem to relax with the knowledge that there is a resolution coming.

“Okay, okay, thank you, thank you, I love you.”

Maya’s like you, or at least you try to tell yourself that. She’s never had anyone who loved her, she’s all by herself. That’s what you tell yourself, that nobody’s ever loved you, that you’re all alone, she tells you the same. That nobody will love you like a good high, that your all alone, that you always will be. To start with, you thought it was all nonsense, that to her you were just a means of getting money, but after hearing it enough, after realising the truth behind her words, you thought it must be true, she was older than you, she’d seen more of the world than you had.

You stayed hunched over in the alleyway, ignoring the buzzing on your phone that meant your mother had realised you were gone. You felt a pang of compassion in your heart, just briefly. You didn’t want to worry her, you didn’t want to think about the anguish that would have crossed Leah’s face when she’d returned to your bedroom to find it empty, even worse if it was Jordan.

Consciously, you didn’t care, not really, all you cared about was the fucking high that you were missing out on. But the eight year old version of you, somewhere in the lowest pit of your heart felt horrifically bad.

It took fifteen minutes of you being hunched against a brick wall, hiding from the view of the street, shaking and shivering before you were hit with the light of headlights, coming from the end of the alleyway.

You stayed hidden, just in case it was your mother or somebody else, staying crouched down behind a bin.

“Babygirl, let’s go.”

You stood up properly, your body straightening out and beginning to walk towards the far to bright white lights.

You sat down in the passenger seat, closing the door behind you as swiftly as possible.

Maya captured you in a hug before you could do anything, her arms wrapping around your neck and torso.

“I’m so proud of you, you’re in good care, I’ll look out for you, me and Matt and the girls, you’re in good company.”

You nodded your head against her shoulder, slowly pulling yourself from her embrace.

Her pupils were dilated, your brain didn’t consider the danger behind her being high, more jealous that she was riding on a happy cloud that you were craving to be on.

The drive felt longer than it should have, your phone buzzed relentlessly the whole way there, it took everything in you not to look down and block the numbers that you knew were ringing, but you didn’t have it in you.

You didn’t like the feeling that hit your gut when you rolled up to the same house that you’d stumbled out of a couple nights ago, you loved Maya, you loved drugs, what you didn’t love was the overwhelming fear that you felt at having to face the same man who had done those horrible things to you days ago. Maya must have noticed, or seen something was up with you.

“Something wrong, darlin?”

She was 23, closer to your Mom’s age then yours, she cared about you.

“Matt, he didn’t want money for the drugs, he wanted something else.”

You expected, or you hoped that Maya would be shocked, but she wasn’t, not in the slightest.

“I think you’ll find babygirl that your body is the most powerful form of payment, men will do anything for a woman’s body, it’s good you learn that young. Matt provides a lot, drugs, care, a house, give him what he wants and he’ll treat you well.”

You stuttered on your words.

“W-what if I don’t want it?”

Maya put her hand on your cheek, squeezing firm enough to make it sting slightly.

“There is no such thing as not wanting it. We’re primal, we crave to be touched and wanted, he’s just teaching you that. It’s an eye for an eye. You get your high, he gets what he wants. It works out for everyone. He’s just trying to keep you safe, just trying to make you feel loved, it’s the only kind of love there is.”

In your core, in your brain, you know it’s untrue, Maya believes in what she’s saying though, or at least she appears to.

“Now c’mon, let’s get you upstairs, get you some artificial assistance.”

She pats you on the shoulder, before opening up the door on her side of the car and stepping out. You let go of the breath that you’d been holding in. Maya is like your big sister, she cares about you, she would never intentionally hurt you, she’s the only person who really gives a shit about you.

You open the car door without much more hesitation, having convinced yourself that she’s right, and more that once you shoot up that your brain will quiet down and all of your doubts will be silenced.

Maya leads you into the house, it’s a lot emptier than it was the other day, a lot less people sprinkled across all of the surfaces, instead there are a few girls and Matt, who’s right in the middle of all of them.

“Pretty girl, didn’t think I’d see you back so soon.”

He’s voice is drawling, slightly tilted.

You didn’t have anything to say that wouldn’t come off as rude, so you simply smiled at him, as well as you could considering the bile that was in your stomach just at the thought of the man in front of you.

“She got kicked out, needed some place to go, I told her there is always room for her here.”

Matt nodded and smiled, his hands were all over the women around him, you tried your hardest to keepy your eyes on his face and not the company he was keeping.

“Of course, I look out for my girls. You craving pretty girl? You need something?”

You nodded your head, hopefully, you were desperate, the emotional nature of what you’d just been through with your mother enough to be slowly pushing you towards the edge.

“Maya take her upstairs, the speed is in my bedside draw, I’ll be up in a bit.”

Maya smiled and nodded, grabbing you by the shoulder and pushing you towards the same stairs you’d stumbled down just a few days ago.

You tried not to feel completely daunted as you were tugged upstairs, your shaky legs carrying you the distance to the bedroom that you’d been in less than twenty for hours ago.

It was the same position, same place, same everything.

It was hard not to feel completely terrified.

Maya led you over to the bed, sitting you down whilst she rustled in the bedside table.

It was silent, calm, as peaceful as you could feel in your current situation, until your phone started buzzing again.

“Answer it, let them know you’re fine.”

You looked ay Maya like she was crazy, she sure seemed it.

“Excuse me?”

Maya looked up from her spot rustling through the drawer.

“They’ll leave you alone if you answer, let them know you’re fine and not dead in a ditch somewhere.”

You gulped, pulling your phone out of your pant pocket and looking at the flashing contact of your mom, your finger hesitating over the green button before clicking on it.

“Bubba? Bubba? Jord, she answered, I’ve got her.”

The exhale of relief that you heard leave your mom’s lips was one of pure happiness.

“Mom, please don’t ahte me, please don’t hate me.”

You could always deal with the thought or realisation that your mom didn’t love you, but having her hate you, it would do things to you that you couldn’t handle.

“Bubba where are you? I don’t hate you, I could never hate you, I love you so much bubba. Just let me know where you are, we’ll come get you, we’ll sort this out.”

Your mom sounded more desperate than you’d ever heard her.

“I’m okay mom, I’m okay, I’m safe.”

Another exhale of relief.

“Look bubba, all your aunties are out looking for you, me and Jord have been worried sick, just let me know where you are, please. I’m so worried about you bubba, look, just come home, we can figure out the drug stuff, me and mama will get you all the help you need, we’ll make it all better, just come home.”

It had been hardly two hours since you’d slipped out of your window, you didn’t want to know how stressed your mom would have gotten had it been six or twelve.

“Mom I know I did wrong, trust me, I know. But you want me to go to rehab, you want me to get better, and trust me I want it, but I can’t do it, please.”

You heard something being dropped and then a button being pressed.

“Chick, listen to me, your mom and I are worried sick, you need to come back home. We’ll sort it all out, we’ll get you the help you need, but you need to come home, just tell us where you are.”

The feeling of the rubber tourniquet being tied to your upper arm and a needle prodding at your vein distracted you slightly.

“Look mom, I’m in good company, I’m safe, I love you both but I can’t do rehab, I can’t do getting better, I’m not ready, I’m not strong enough for that, I’m not like you and mom, I can’t be strong and brave, I can’t tough it out when it gets hard. I just need you to love me from a distance and understand that I’m doing whats best for me.”

Maya looks on proudly, it feels like your saying things to appease her and that makes you feel good, the validation of having her smile at you and nod her head at you, it wasn’t love but it was something close, the closest you felt in a while.

“Bubba, listen to me. You are so strong, everything you’ve been through in your life, it’s nothing in comparison to this. You don’t need the drugs, you don’t. This isn’t you bubba.”

You think that deep down, Leah and Jordan have no idea who you are anymore. The injection into your bloodstream only solidifies those thoughts.

“This is me mom, this is who I am now. I was like you and jord’s perfect little child, your perfect girl but that’s not me anymore. I’m not the same kid, this is me.”

You swore you heard a sob, or sniffle from the other side of the line.

“Bubba, we’ll sort this out, just come back home, please.”

You shook your head, enjoying the feeling of your blood circulating the drugs that had just hit your system.

“I can’t do that mom’s, I love you, and I’m so grateful for you but I can’t come home, I just can’t mom, bye.”

Before either of them could reply to you, you pressed down on the hang up button, throwing your phone to the end of the bed and leaning back, letting the high begin to sink in.

The bed sunk down next to you, Maya’s arm snaking around your waist.

“Good job babygirl, I’m proud of you, you’ve got me, I’ll look out for you, I look out for all of my girls.”

If you were sane, you’d probably ask yourself the question of what kind of person looked out for their people by giving them drugs and subjecting them to sexual assault, but with the drugs running through your veins and the relief starting to hit your brain, you couldn’t find you in it to care.

“Feels good.”

Maya brought your head to her neck, it was warm, happy, nice.

“I know babygirl, feels so good doesn’t it?”

You nod your head, the bliss starting to really get to you, your whole body feeling the affects of it.

Everytime you get high you think it’ll last forever, that the overwhelming numb happiness will last permanently. Every time you shoot up, you think that maybe it’ll all get better, that the feeling you’ve been searching for, will finally set in. It doesn’t though.

You come to the conclusion that it must be a more pure solution, or more concentrated because it’s getting to your head a lot quicker than normal.

You don’t even notice when Matt slips into the room, too busy processing the overwhelming feeling of the drugs rushing through you. It’s good, it feels good, until the bed dips on the other side of you and a hand is on your waist.

Your body is too numb to try and fight back, even if you had the energy or will to, you doubt you’d be strong enough.

There are words being spoken around you, hands all over your body.

You can’t open your eyes, can’t even try to understand what is happening to you.

You bite down on your lip, as your pants are tugged down.

You dissasociate it, disassociate the hands on you, dissasociate the feeling of being violated, enjoy the fact that the mixture of the drugs in your system and pain coming from your lip manage to be enough to distract from the pain being inflicted on you.

It’s primal, it’s an eye for an eye, it’s a form of payment.

Some time during the process, you drift off, whether it’s from the drugs or pain you aren’t sure, you just know that the sweet mixture of the meth seems to be enough.

You wake up with an arm around you, your silently terrified to open your eyes and find out who, but you’re also in pain and a little bit too curious for your own good. You’re grateful that the hands are Maya’s, it’s a small win. Your head is still dazed, it feels good, but you’re itching for something, itching for more.

“Hey babygirl.”

It’s light outside, it has of been a couple of hours and based on the pain between your legs you don’t want to know what’s happened in the couple of hours you’ve been unconscious.

“You feeling a bit better?”

You nod your head, focusing in on the daze and not the itch across your body and the pain your experiencing.

“You’ve been such a good girl for Matt and I, doing exactly how we pleased, we’re so proud of you.”

It’s the kind of praise you’ve been searching for months. Growing up, for your mom’s, you’d always been the perfect child, a pathological people pleaser. You’d always been told you were independent, in the end though it had all just been loneliness. You grew up to quickly, from the moment you were in foster care, passed around like a piece of trash, there was no option but for you to be lonely. Then you moved in with Jordan and Leah, and they had each other, you were still alone. You didn’t allow for yourself to make mistakes, you had a chance with them, if you were anything less than perfect then how could they want you? You were a student, a star athlete, polite, a perfectionist to your core. You took on all of the burden during the breakup, you were there for both of your mom’s through it all, yet you were the one who was always at the brunt of their anger and discontent. You weren’t worthy of their love, not when the perfect child stopped being perfect because of the pressure, because of the self-hatred that had manifested inside of you since the first people to show you love had broken apart, leaving you empty on the inside.

You blamed yourself for a lot of it, Leah and Jordan had been fine before you, it was like as soon as you entered their life it was just a ticking time bomb, you wrecked everything, you were a semi truck that drove through people, pulled everyone and everything in it’s way a part.

Maya knew how it felt, she’d broken people a part, she knew what it felt like to be all alone, she’d taught you that it was okay, that it was okay to be lonely.

She cared about you, she understood you, she wanted you.

“More, need more.”

She looked into your eyes and you felt understood, like she knew exactly what you were going through and knew how to patch up and fix all of your problems.

“Alright babygirl, just give me a second and we’ll get you juiced up, huh? You deserve it, you’ve been such a perfect girl for us.”

Maya removed her body from yours, reaching over to the bedside table, rummaging through it the same way she did last night.

Your body was still vibrating with the endorphins, the dopamine was filling your head, replacing everything in you that felt dead and broken, it felt so good, it was the feeling that you craved, the reason that you’d given everything else up, because it made you feel more content and fulfilled then anything else.

You were scared of losing it, scared of losing touch with the feeling that you were relying on.

You craved her praise, craved the drugs, craved the nothingness that came from having everything around you turn into nothing, all of the feelings, all of the struggle, all the pain and suffering turned into dust.

It was what made your life worth living, without the high you didn’t think your life would even remotely worth living for, you had nothing, you had nobody, you were alone.

Maya was quicker with her mannerisms, she knew what she was doing.

You’d never seen her do needles before the last twenty four hours, but you also weren’t that shocked. She had the tracks along her arms, the attitude that seemed like she could. She was the one who’d introduced you to drugs, it had started with a bit of pot, then coke, then heroin, then any pill that you could find and eventually, speed.

You’d been tentative at first, speed was more addictive than any other drug, speed did bad things to a body, methamphetamines were a druggies worst enemy. You’d met cokeheads and some of the most addicted heroin junkies and yet plenty of them had told you that they would never touch meth, that it was too intoxicating.

Meth took control of a persons body, penetrated the system faster than most drugs, meth got into your head, it changed a person for the worse.

You wanted that though, you were seeking for that. You were seeking for something to take control of you, something to change you, something to change the way your brain was wired.

It felt so good, you’d never been into needles either, avoided them like they were the plague, but with the plastic tourniquet strapped onto your arm and the cold point of the needle pressing against your inner arm.

It was the best feeling in the world, the best feeling known to man.

You felt like you were on the peak of Mount Everest, like you were unstoppable.

It was the same feeling you’d once gotten from just being in a room with your moms, the same feeling you’d gotten after a good game of football, the same feeling you’d gotten out of getting a good mark back on a test.

A while ago, a time that you don’t like to think about anymore, it all came naturally. Your body did hunger for that kind of attention because it received it naturally, it didn’t have to worry about when the next burst of serotonin would come. You didn’t have to create your own sensation, like you do now, you didn’t have to put yourself on a constant calendar to keep yourself sane, to make sure that you stayed happy enough to stay alive.

You didn’t think about the fact that you’d shot up a couple of hours ago, that you’re body was only just now learning to absorb intravenous drugs, that you were more dosed up then you had been in your entire life and now you were adding gasoline to the fire inside of you, you didn’t care, all you wanted was for this feeling to keep lasting, for the pain in your stomach from everything that you knew had happened but couldn’t recollect to be numbed by the drugs that you were craving.

You felt alive when the needle pressed into your arm, it made you feel like you were unstoppable, enlightened, like nothing could stop you. It was a strak contrast to how you felt when you were sober, when you were sober, you felt like the weight of the world was resting on your shoulders, that you were responsible for all the people that were around you and if you failed them then you were no better than the little traumatised girl that had been handed to your moms all those years ago.

You tried to ignore the odd chest pain that set in as the drugs mixed in with your blood, or tried your very best at least, it was hard though, when the initial pain started to turn into a skin splitting sensation you tried your best to pay no mind to it.

It was odd, you figured it might be a new effect you were unearthing, needles gave a different high in comparison to your normal, it was understandable that their would be different effects.

For the first time though, in a long time, you weren’t overcome with the near overwhelming relief that normally flooded you, the pain in your chest was to strong, instead of your heart slowing, your pain subsiding and all the thoughts quieting down, it felt like you were going into overdrive, hyperaware of everything that resided inside of you. Your chest was hurting, your heart was beating at a abnormally fast pace and your brain hurt, like it was rattling around inside of your head, bruising the inside of your skull and cracking it into pieces as every second passed.

“Maya, maya.”

It was a croak, yourr eyes being forced open as you took sharp, short breaths.

“You’re okay babygirl, deep breaths, it’ll feel good any minute.”

Except it wasn’t feeling good and it was feeling worse as every second passed. Your skin was prickly, hot and red and burning all over, your heart felt like it was beating faster than it had ever before and everything about how you were feeling felt so inexplicably wrong.

“Not good, not good, not good.”

Maya’s hand was on your face, patting at you like you were a dog, like you were a pet to her.

“Ride it out, you’ve got it babygirl, it’ll pass.”

It wasn’t passing though, it wasn’t, nothing about how you felt was passing at all.

You could feel your control of your body start to fade, you didn’t understand how or why, you didn’t understand what was happening, you knew though that whatever this was, whatever you’d taken or been given, it wasn’t good. It felt like poison inside of you, slowly taking control of every thing inside of you, like something was eating you up from the inside, as every moment surpassed.

You wanted to think that it was going to be fine, that you were just experiencing some kind of heightened high from the buildup in your system, but there was something overwhelmingly odd and wrong about how you felt, it was real, realer than any drugs had made you feel.

Drugs were artificial, and they made you feel artificially happy, or numb, somewhere between those two. Drugs had never made you feel real and tangible, like you were more of a human than anybody else, but right now, you felt more personified then you ever had, like you were so synched with your body that it was too much, too much feelings, too much pain, to much of everything.

You struggled to get out anymore words, between the feeling of your heart beating the speed of light and your chest being too tight for any oxygen to enter your airway.

You supposed she got the message when your body started to shake, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your body struggled to cope.

You heard her scream, felt her pick up your body, in blinks of your eyes you made out the staircase, the entryway, Matt in your line of sight.

You get traded into his arms, arms that make you feel tense and uncomfortable, something your body seems to react to because the tremors or seizures, or whatever the fuck your experiecing only worsens.

You blink in and out of consciousness as you’re taken from the house, into the backseat of somebody’s car, Maya and Matt seated in the front, murmuring to each other as you violently shook in the backseat, your consciousness fading as your body became less connected to you.

You weren’t sure where you were going, where drug addicts thought it was a good idea to take a person fucked up out of their minds, you hoped it wasn’t back to your mothers, or rehab, you seriously doubted the latter considering that two addicts themselves were more likely to take you to a fucking graveyard instead of rehab.

You knew neither of them were talking to you, just talking between the two of them, you hoped they were getting you some kind of help, that the two of them would stick by you and find you some help, Maya loved you, Maya was the only person who cared, she would get you help, she would stop this feeling, she would fix it.

You couldn’t see, you couldn’t control your body, you couldn’t feel any sensations across your skin beside the burning created by the lack of oxygen being circulated throughout you. It was like the drugs were slowly infiltrating every part of you, that the veins which mapped out your body underneath your skin were being pumped full of the toxic substance that you’d been so desperate to fill yourself with.

It must have been a bad reaction, or something you’d taken was laced, probably with fentanyl or something that was mixing badly, fentanyl was renowned for being one of the worst things to combine with meth, opioids and stimulants were bad together, it was probably the two forms mixing together inside of you, creating a horrible chemical concoction of reactions inside of you.

You couldn’t keep yourself awake for most of the car ride, there were patches of consciousness, patches where your eyes would open just for them to close once again.

You were awake when the car stopped, not awake enough to catch a glimpse of where you’d stopped at but awake enough to hear the car engine turn still on. The passenger door opened, then footsteps, then the backseat door beside you opened.

Maya picked you up, or at least that’s who you thought had your arms around you, your eyes were forced shut so you didn’t have any confirmation.

A few steps were taken, fast ones, and then she was squatting like she intended to put you down, and then she did.

You didn’t know how or why or where, you just knew that it was cold, there was rain drizzling down on your face, your body was shaking more than ever and you could hear the footsteps getting further and further away from you, then the sound of a car door being opened and shut and the car pulling away.

You were in agony, there was no other way to put it.

You’d been abandoned before, it was nothing new for you, it only reinforced the idea that you were simply incapable of keeping people in your life, nobody wanted you long term, you weren’t made for long term love, you were like a toy to a child. Fun and entertaining for a short amount of time, before you were forgotten and then eventually, thrown away.

You passed out before you could think more about the toy comparison, cold, alone and forgotten.

[enteroctopusdarkysilis]

✨Kamino’s citadel challenge !✨

I am…very excited about this one. I’ve had this vision for a long time, and I’m so happy it’s ended up looking like that.

Now, there are a lot of things I’ll go into details along close ups under the cut; the only thing I’ll mention above is that I’m very grateful for TCW’s episode guides’ artworks, without which this would have been quite a hassle.

Okay ! Before diving into all the details and things, here is a view from above, to really display how big it is. Dimension-wise, the plank I built it on is around 110*70cm.

Now of course, the first detail which is noticeable is the floor, because, well, it’s everywhere.

This was probably the most challenging part of the build, because making a grid out of Lego is tough. Most of it is rows and rows of dark square, light lines, separated by 1*n tiles. It was the easiest way to get this pattern with as if it were just tiles; because this is one of the objectives I had here : most of this MOC is smooth, except for a few zones (usually voluntarily).

The fact I used this technic means that the floor in most place isn’t very stable, but it actually holds up pretty well because of some hidden connection points with the foundations underneath, which are mostly hidden under the cover blocks.

Here for instance, I’m using modified 1*2 bricks with a Technic hole : it hold the cover block, and it also attaches the floor to the foundation.

Of course, another problem I ran into were slopes. Much harder to get a smooth effect with the technic I’ve used, so it’s a bit wonky and unstable. Also, most them are not aligned properly, which is visible in the picture above (and some area have some really big misalignments because of a few problems I probably won’t bore anyone reading this with).

Now, since they’re also here, I can deal with the cover blocks. These were, among the details, the hardest to figure out, to get a good size while keeping some texture. Eventually I came up with this design, which, ironically enough, uses the same technic the floor uses, in a different orientation.

Another detail : the miradors :

This is one of the first elements I had in place, because I needed them to get a good sense of scale (and was made better by an existing concept art of a tower alone). Most of it does not have anything noteworthy, except for one illegal technic I used (can you spot it ?)

The pillar holding the roof of the mirador is using a technic I had in my toolbox for a long time, but had never had the occasion to use : if you take two 'brick' bricks and attach them perpendicularly on a snot brick, the small space separating the lines of 'bricks' align to let a 1*n tile in. It’s somewhat reliable (for an illegal technic) and an easy way to get octogonal shapes.

Now, before looking at the Citadel itself, let’s turn around for a minute.

This point of view obviously isn’t the intended one, but it’s still worth noting, if only for some composition.

Notice that the wall here is quite small (smaller than the miradors, even), and light gray; it’s in contrast with the towering dark gray wall on the other side, behind the citadel, which technically should give at least some impressions even to the people who never saw TCW.

Anyway, it’s also on this view that we can see most of my slope struggles, including the central one, which is the biggest I had to do.

And I can’t not mention the most important element :

What would be the challenge without a squad of clones to take it on ? These clones (4 privates and a sergent) are ready to fight ! Well. Kinda. I wish I could have actual cadets, but they are not part of the Lego universe (and the floor was enough of a fee, I can’t afford to get customs figures too). I wish I had the Dominos though. I have TBB Echo, and I plan to get my hands on Fives at some point, but they wouldn’t fit here, sadly, so instead I used some movie accurate clones (because all the others are used for a project I still haven’t posted..maybe later…)

Notably, I at some point tried to get the elevator to work - needless to say it was a disaster (it’s too close to the plate underneath to make something working).

Now, without further ado. The citadel.

I’m very proud of it. I got the proportions just right (I actually made some measurements to make sure of it), and there is just enough texture to not make it bland while leaving it as artificial. This alone took roughly 8-10h (which were all spent during an accidental all nighter, whoops), but it was worth it. It’s completely empty inside, and, in fact, the wall behind it isn’t full as well, anything behind the citadel is opened. The spikes are simple 1*3 angle plates illegally connected, and the walls’ small details were made with a bunch of modified 1*2 plates, there isn’t anything really special in it.

The only really complicated zone was the middle tower, because I had to put all the cannons while keeping it clean and smooth, and including the vertical lime lines. It was a fun challenge. And I included the 'flag' At the top, too, just a red transparent cone on a stick (there’s no need for more), which peeks above the gray wall (for composition and because of a lack of pieces).

Anyway, such a long project deserves one behind the scene photo :

Yes, my desk is messy (and include my mandatory tea cup).

On the left, you can see my remaining floor tiles, which have not been used yet; and just under the citadel, you might notice the foundations visible; it’s a checker of 2*2 tiles which gives my floor a good base to be fixed on. There are also some slopes which haven’t been placed yet (in front of the background miradors), and at this steps, there were no cover blocks or walls yet.

As far as my tools go, you might notice brick separators scattered all around my work environment (I never have enough of those), as well as a tablet in the bottom right hand corner (which i use to check and measure concept arts), and in the middle, the red triangle is an official (albeit old) Lego measurement tool which counts in stud, Lego bar holes and axe length.

Also visible, finally, is the bottom of the foundations, which are stacks of 1*2 bricks (each of the three floor layer is separated by a height of 3 bricks), which means that looking directly under it can lead to watching the dark basement of my build (which isn’t aesthetic…).

Anyway, if you read until here, thanks, I guess ? I still have a few TCW related stuff (a small one next week, some other in the foreseeable feature), so feel free to stick around and maybe leave a note, if you feel like it ? That’s it, bye !

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Bad Guy 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can't seem to unhook himself from your life.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Note: I'm going to a physio today for the first time.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The house is quiet as you come out of your room. The single floor is just enough room for you and your mom. You’ve never needed much else and all your life, you’ve made do with what you have. It’s just the way it is.

You stretch your arms and arch your spine as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. You yawn. You fell asleep reading outdated discussions about your most recent syndicated obsession. You should know better by now, that thorn in your neck is only driving deeper. 

You bend at the elbows to rub your neck and drag your feet over the cold tile. Your nipple poke rigidly against your cropped tank top and goosebumps raze up your bare thighs. You open the fridge and pull out the bottle of orange juice, your panties riding up with your movement.  

Before you can stand straight, a sharp strikes snaps against your ass and radiates through your flesh. You yipe and grip the bottle by the neck as you jump and turn to face the culprit. The strange man stares back, his brows twitching. 

“Mm, you’re not Gail,” he mutters. 

“No, I’m not,” you press the juice to your chest, overly aware of your barely covered body.  

You don’t ask who he is. You stopped doing that in middle school. She’s another one of her ‘callers’. You don’t usually see them more than once, if at all. Most leave before you’re awake. 

“Was takin’ a piss, heard you skittering around, thought...” he trails off into a shrug. 

He’s shirtless too. He only wears a pair of briefs as he stands shameless before you. A dark tattoo covers half his chest and extends around his shoulder and down his arm. It’s the typical snake and skull aesthetic sported by men like him. 

“Nope,” you reach for the fridge door and step to the side as you close it.  

He doesn’t move. You go to dip around him and he moves with you. 

“Taking all that with you?” He points at the bottle. You look down and sigh. You push it towards him. “Here.” 

He puts his hand under it and you let go. You skirt around his other side and squeeze through the door behind him. You don’t look back as you flee to your room. You resist the urge to reach back and cover the bottom of your ass, not wanting to draw attention to it if he is watching. 

You shut your bedroom door and cringe. Great. You can’t really complain. Your mother hasn’t kicked you out. Yet. Not like half your friends’ parents. She just asks for half the rent and you can manage that. With the rent around here, you’d be on the street otherwise. 

You cross the room and flop on the bed. You pull out your phone and go back to scrolling the old discussion boards. It’s funny. The more recent posts are totally contrary to the ones when the show aired. You’re not sure who you agree with. 

You roll onto your back and drop your phone to the mattress. You have to work at noon. So much for a relaxing morning. You’ll just be hiding in your room until that man leaves. 

A knock jerks you up and you roll your eyes. You search the floor and pull on the wrinkly pajama bottoms. You go to the door and crack it open an inch. It’s him. 

“Uh, hi?” You utter dully. 

“Got you a glass,” he offers one of the cups in his hands. You squint at it then look him in the face. 

“Thanks?” You go to take it but he doesn’t let go as you wrap your fingers around the cold glass.  

“There a problem?” He asks. 

“Uh, no,” you scrunch your nose. “I said thanks.” 

“I don’t like your tone.” 

You let go of the glass and retract your hand. His eyes flick down and yours do too. The white tank does little for your modesty. You cross your arms. 

“Okay? Well, never mind,” you go to close the door and he steps forward, digging his elbow into the wood as he blocks you with his body. 

“Your mom said you’re a nice girl,” he looks you up and down again. “Coulda fooled me walking around like that.” 

You frown. It’s your house. Why should you worry about what you’re wearing? Besides, if you knew he was there, then you wouldn’t wander around in your panties. 

“Thanks for the orange juice but you should just give it to my mom. That’s why you’re here,” you shrug. 

He scoffs. “Got a smart mouth.” 

“No, I—I didn’t do anything.” 

“There you go again. Disrespectful.” 

“Huh?” You shake your head in confusion. 

“That way you talk. Low and flat, like you don’t give a fuck. Maybe you don’t. Would explain why you’re grown living in your mommy’s house,” he mockingly pouts. 

You blink, “you don’t know me.” 

“I know girls like you. Pretending like they don’t care. You care. We both know you do.” He moves a glass closer, “say thank you. Like you mean it.” 

“I don’t want it,” you insist. 

“Don’t want to waste it. Was it you or mommy who paid for the bottle?” He taunts. 

You grit your teeth. What is his problem? Why won’t he just leave you alone? 

You deflate. You really just want him to go. You look at the ceiling then back to him. He’s the kind of man you would avoid on the street. His blue eyes are as cold as ice and his hair is shaved, but a little longer on top, and he sports a goatee amid the short stubble on his jaw and cheeks. 

“Thank you,” you reach for the glass again. 

“Thank you, sir,” his voice grizzles as he corrects you. 

You steel yourself and your lips slant. You really just want him to tell him to fuck off but like you always do, you don’t say what you think. You keep it inside. Put on that face that keeps you safe. 

“Thank you, sir,” you repeat after him. 

“Now smile,” he demands. 

You flinch and look away. You take a breath. That’s you’re least favourite, when they tell you to smile. It happens often at your job and it always sours your day. 

You force a smile. 

“Come on, you can do better,” he snickers. 

Your cheeks tremble and your smile falls. You tuck your chin down. 

“Can you please just leave me alone?” You mumble. 

“Excuse me, girl? I can’t hear you.” 

“I said...” your throat locks up and your eyes singe. God! When you get angry, you don’t get bold, you just get teary. You hate it. “I said ‘thank you, sir’.” 

You grab the glass so abruptly that it sloshes over the side. You don’t stop, you just spin and throw your weight against the door. He lets it close and it slams. You spill most of the juice down your front. 

You hear the friction of his fingers dragging down the wood. It sends a chill through you. You slowly pull away and put the glass down, juice dripping down your arms and chest. 

He’ll be gone soon, just like the rest. 

💀

Your mom’s still asleep when you leave for work. As you sneak out of your room, you listen for any sign of life.  If the man’s there, he doesn’t make himself known. You step into your shoes and leave through the front door without looking back. 

You head down the street with your earbuds in, a podcast about an old show you watched in high school droning on, as you take the shortcut behind the house at the end of the street. It’s almost four blocks to work but you save money on bus fare. You try to only waste the change after dark. 

The ice cream shop is never very busy outside of the post-soccer game crowds. You take your vigil behind the cold counter and bob along with the radio station’s Top 10 countdown. Miley leans in the corner by the till as she chews gum and scrolls through her phone. 

You’re fidgety to do the same, but you hate just letting your eyes glaze over. You pace a bit back and forth until her shift is up. When she’s gone, you feel a little less on edge. You always prefer being alone, you don’t have to worry about performing. 

Customers come and go. You greet them with the usual ‘how can I help?’ You’ve never been very good at the customer service part but you’re not rude. You just do your job, which it to scoop ice cream and toss some sprinkles around. 

You’re entitled to one cone a shift. You rarely have it. You don’t need the extra sugar or the brain freeze. That day, as you close up, the chocolate peanut butter entices you to go outside your routine. You put the lids on all the canisters except for that flavour and do yourself up a waffle cone before you lock up. 

You lick the softening cream and turn to face the dark plaza, lit only by the overhead marquee. There’s a car idling just by the curb. You ignore it. A few neighbouring businesses close up around the same time. 

The engine revs, and it jolts forward. The horn nearly has you throwing your cone. You fall back into step and keep walking. The Trans Am continues to follow you and honks again. The window rolls down as someone whistles. Only your name stops you. 

You turn and bend to see through the window. What the heck? It’s him. The man that invaded your house and threatened you over orange juice. 

You exhale through your nose and stand up. You turn down the pavement and keep going. The bus will be there any moment. 

“Hey,” he barks, “get back here.” 

You keep going. Why is he there? Because of the orange juice? 

The car door opens and closes. You speed up as you hear him following you. 

“Your mom sent me to pick you up,” he says. 

You snort, “sure she did.” 

“Really,” he says as his footsteps echo yours. 

“She doesn’t even know when I work,” you keep going and he catches your arm, yanking you back. 

You spin to face him and yelp. Your scoop shifts precariously in the cone. You try to pull away but not too hard as you selfishly want to keep your treat intact. 

“Alright. I offered. I heard you leave. Figured you could use a lift.” He squeezes and you whimper. “I can be a nice guy.” 

Can be. 

You wince and flutter your lashes, “can you let me go... please?” 

He opens his fingers sharply and lifts his hand, showing his palm. “Since you said please...” 

You look over your shoulder then back at him. Finally, you glance at your cone. You weigh your options. You’re not a quick runner. 

“I appreciate the ride but--” 

“I appreciate the ride, sir. Like I said, I can be nice, but respect is earned, girl.” 

You swallow tightly, cheeks pinching. 

“Sir, I appreciate the ride but I have money for the bus--” 

He clucks and points over your shoulder, “that bus?” 

You turn and watch the headlights blow by the stop. You flick your eyes to the sky and face him again. “Mmhmm.”” 

“So, is that a ‘thank you, sir’ on your lips?” He challenges. 

You slant your lips back and forth. You fight back a wave of hot frustration. You’re used to feeling powerless but he is suffocating. You nod. 

“Thank you, sir,” you choke out. 

“See, not that hard to be a good girl.” 

He waits until you move. You head back towards his car, and he gets in the driver side. As you claim the passenger seat, he huffs. He looks at you as you try not to acknowledge him. 

“Don’t like food in the car. Try not to get it all over,” he snarls. 

“I can--” 

“Just be careful,” he snips. 

Just be quiet, you tell yourself. You pull the seatbelt down and stare through the windshield. You lick around the cone as the cream threatens to melt onto your fingers. The car idles and you glance over. He watches your tongue as you lap up the trickle.  

You sit back as his eyes cling to your lips. He lifts his chin and turns straight. He grips the wheel and cranks the volume on the stereo. He speeds off and you struggle to keep from doing just what he warned you not to. You’d tell him to slow down but not only will he not listen, but the sooner you’re home, the better. 

[megamindsecretlair]

Runaway Lover, Part 1

Pairing: Big Stunna x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. ANGST. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female and male receiving) teasing/mocking, cum play/swallowing, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, referring to female anatomy as she, all consensual. Use of n-word. Mentions of God, Christian leaning. Sorry if I missed some, I'm rushing, just let me know.

Summary: On a girl's trip with your friends to Punta Cana, getting some much needed rest before spring semester, you bump into Stunna and a whirlwind romance rocks you to your core.

Word Count: 9,326k

Part 2 | Part 3

A/N: This is a wonderful ask from @melaninpov. I'm sorry if this wasn't what you had in mind, I've been watching romance movies all day and this turned sweet unexpectedly. Happy Valentine's Day, my loves. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blackerthings @browngirldominion @we-outsiiiide @thecookiebratz @iv0rysoap @notapradagurl7 @sevikasblackgf @miyuhpapayuh @xo-goldengirl @kindofaintrovert @flydotty @judymfmoody @slippinninque @soufcakmistress @henneseyhoe @westside-rot @melaninpov @twocentuar @blackpinup22 @babybratzmaraj @theyscreamsannii @kiabialia

“Are you sure this isn’t too short?” You asked your friends. You stood in the bathroom of your hotel suite. The bright, fluorescent lighting in the bathroom highlighted everything. Everything. You wore a simple gold dress with intricate bronze and burnished orange swirls. It was a tad too short and showed a tad too much.

You weren’t a prude but you were also unused to showing…so much. You tugged at the short sleeves, the low neckline, and pinched the areas around your sides. You weren’t sure why you packed the damn thing, but you were drinking while packing. Something you vowed to never do again.

“You look so hot!” Your friend, Stella, said and moved closer to you and faced the mirror. She wore a violet dress with sparkling beads woven in to make it look like she wore a dress made of stars. It fit her deep ebony skin perfectly and brought out the subtle jewel tones in her skin.

You bit your lip, tasting the sweet lipgloss you dabbed on your lips. Abusing your lips was your worst sin and you avoided putting anything on them but tonight, you were all about new experiences. Hopefully. 

“I should change,” you said. You pushed past Stella’s calls out for you to stop and that there was no need. 

Angela appeared in the doorway and trapped you in the bathroom. “Damn girl!” You said. Stella’s sister was gorgeous in a marigold bodycon dress that hugged all of her curves and showed off her perfectly round ass. Truly, an apple bottom that she claimed was her best feature. 

Angela preened under the praise but did not lower her hands from the door frame. “You’re not changing. None of us are changing. We only have two days left before it’s back to fucking school and we’re going out with a bang. They better be throwing us out before the trip is over,” she said. 

She pushed you back into the bathroom. Thank goodness the space was big enough for all three of you. There were wide tile squares on the floor, a discarded hotel towel on the floor to keep you all from slipping, and two large mirrors over a double sink. 

Angela and Stella finished up their makeup and demanded that you applied more gloss. Stella handed you a clutch to match your dress and told you to take the gloss with you. 

You accepted it with a roll of your eyes. You’d likely go through the entire tube before the night was over. You were constantly at battle with your anxiety. Ya’ll really didn’t fuck with each other but it was like a toxic ex that didn’t know how to leave you alone. You could block, skip, and hop away from it but it was always lurking around the corner.

“Alright! Let’s go!” Stella yelled, getting you two pumped for the night’s activities. You all put on your matching heels or sandals, grabbed purses and clutches, and tucked in last minute items you may need, and headed out of the door.

Punta Cana was a balmy destination spot with plenty of resorts. The trip there had been uneventful but you and your friends had stayed glued to the windows, snapping pictures of the local plantlife, hills, and palm trees. 

At the resort, you couldn’t help looking around in wide-eyed wonder, taking in the people and accommodations. You had been here for a few days enjoying the beach and accompanying swimming pool at the resort. 

Everyone was friendly and open and a staff member was always around waiting to answer your questions. The goal of the trip was rest, rest, and more fucking rest. You were approaching your final year of school. After this spring semester, you were officially a senior and would have to enter the dreaded world of adults.

Stella and Angela kept up a steady stream of chatter on the ride down the elevator about what they were most excited for. The adults only resort was a breath of fresh air. No kids running around and no harried parents running after them. 

Tonight, you were going to the club in the resort. So far, your activities have kept you from that venue. You rode ATVs and did a snorkeling tour off the shore of the beach. You also climbed into a boat to watch the local marine life. That part was your favorite.

Angela had to remind you that you were in fact young and it was okay to enjoy yourself. Half the time, you didn’t know where your anxiety came from. You could be having the time of your life and then boom! Your anxiety was snatching your breath away and warning you of an invisible threat. No matter how many times you asked for proof or begged to know what the threat was, your anxiety only shook its head and repeated the warning tone: danger, danger!

You shoved your anxiety in the recesses of your mind. You were not in danger. There was no threat. You were only here to have a good time. 

On the main floor of the resort, the wide open arches and large windows let in enough of the view that you saw the moon ascending the sky. Sunset was losing its grip on this part of the world. Swirling colors of lilac, tangerine, and amber dotted the sky as night approached. The ambient lighting outside began to turn on one by one.

Stella looped her arms through yours and Angela’s arms and pulled you toward the entrance to the club. The music reached you first. Hotel guests were spilling in and out of the place so it must be a popular spot. 

You swallowed around the huge lump in your throat as you pushed inside, flashing your wristbands that confirmed your age and the amenities you paid for. The staff member waved you in with a polite smile and soon you were entrenched in the booming club.

The space itself was huge with plenty of dancefloor area. The upbeat, fast paced music got everybody dancing and shaking their hips. There were pillars stationed around the room holding up the ceiling but other than that, it was pretty much open. There was a bar area on a raised platform filled with tables and chairs. 

Most were all occupied as people looked over the railing at the brave people down below getting it on in various states of fancy clothing. Dresses flew through the space. Heels clacked on the floor. Hands were in the air in an undulating wave like the waters that crashed on the shore. 

There was a heavy smell of liquor and sweat and some type of sweet perfume in the air that tried to combat it. There was no way to combat the funk so it ended up smelling like sweet sweat. But that was to be expected with so many people in one room shaking what the Lord gave them. 

You and your friends made a beeline to the bar, immediately ordering sugary drinks that would go straight to your head. Alcohol was never a proper solution to anxiety. However, you’d take anything for a release from its shackles for the night. 

As you waited for your drink, you bounced your shoulders trying to get your body to catch up to your mind. “Naw, show us what you got, girl!” Stella said. She whistled and encouraged you to dance a little more, shake a little more.

Fuck it. You couldn’t let your anxiety win this time around. You started getting into it, shaking your booty faster and then backing away from the bar. You felt the rhythm of the song, waving your hands and getting your whole body into it.

You backed up one more step and tripped, your body flying to the right. You shrieked, hands reaching out to catch your fall. However, you didn’t fall. Strong arms encircled you. It took a few moments for your mind to catch up to the fact that you weren’t kissing the nasty club floor. 

Your heart roared in your chest, causing stops and starts that made you shake all over. The strong arms pulled you back to standing, righting yourself on your wedges. “Thank you,” you said.

You looked up into the most gorgeous pair of brown eyes you had ever seen. Those eyes were framed by a long face, wide nose, and a trimmed dark beard. He had a big smile with perfect, symmetrical teeth encased in hollow grills.

The man had rich, deep golden brown skin that he showed off with a collared navy shirt and black jeans. His upper arms were bulging with muscles, straining against the short sleeves of his shirt. 

He was in a word: devastating. 

“Are you okay?” Sound finally filtered past your racing heartbeat. The way he looked at you gave you the indication that he had asked it more than once. You bit your lip and nodded. You forgot how words worked. 

“Are you sure you didn’t twist anything?” He asked. His voice felt like what hot chocolate on a cold evening tasted like. It warmed you up from the inside out, awakening places that didn’t usually awaken for anything other than your favorite celebrity and brownies.

Your mind was slow, fuzzy around the edges, as it dawned on you that he was pointing to your feet. You moved each leg, leaning on him while you lifted your legs and moved them in a tiny circle. 

You looked back into his eyes and nodded again. “Good,” you chirped. 

He smiled slowly. Fuck, you could watch him smile for the rest of your days and never get sick of it. He was so damn cute. And hot. A dangerous combination that had you acting like Helen Keller. ‘Cept you could plainly see how divinely sexy he was. 

“Can I buy you a drink to apologize for ruining your dance?” He asked.

You smiled and ducked your head, cheeks warming up from the embarrassment of dancing in front of him. You looked down at his hands secured around your arms, at your hands on his. 

You started to move them but he held on a little tighter, unwilling to let you go. “I…kind of already ordered one,” you said around the thick lump in your throat. Come on! Get it together! What the hell was wrong with you? 

“Oh, are you here with someone?” He asked. He still didn’t let you go. 

You licked your lips, the sweet taste of manufactured strawberries coating your tongue and snapping some sense back into you. You nodded and looked towards your friends. They were openly gawking at you. 

“My friends,” you finally said. 

“But no guy?” He asked. 

You giggled and shook your head. “No girl?” You asked.

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m Stunna,” he said. 

You told him your name. He said a few times, rolling the syllables around his tongue like one did to a lollipop. You focused on his mouth and the way he said your name. As if he had been saying it his whole life and never wanted to stop. 

“If I can’t buy you a drink, can I get your number? You from the States?” He asked. 

Anxiety reared its huge, ugly, monstrous head. You were nervous to just…abandon your friends. Let alone your drink. With your luck, you lived on complete opposite sides of the country. You nodded, to give him an answer about the States. But were too nervous to tell him where. To even hint at the possibility that you could occupy the same city and there wasn’t a national alert about it. 

You were sure that he caused a storm of women wherever he went. You would have noticed if he lived around the Bay. You knew that you’d feel him in your blood, taste him in your veins if you lived in the same area. Certain that you would have bumped into each other already. Seen each other somewhere. 

“I should probably get back to my friends. I’m sure your friends are missing you as well,” you said. You reluctantly withdrew your hold on him. Your small claim for the time being. Relinquishing that hold hurt. 

He nodded. As you turned to leave, he swiftly caught your hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed your fingers. “Save a dance for me? I wanna see more of them moves.” 

A nervous giggle pushed against your rib cage, threatening to spill over. You swallowed it back down and bit your lip. You didn’t want to keep turning him down but your stomach twisted and turned. Danger! Threat! 

There was nothing threatening about the man so you figured that you needed away. You needed space to breathe and think. Time spent away from his spicy cologne that tickled your nose. 

You nodded once more. What were the odds that he’d find you again in this club? If your friends weren’t at the bar, you wouldn’t know the first place to look for them. 

Stunna let go of your hand and backed away, giving you a small wink before turning back to his friends. He was surrounded by a group of guys, all hot in some way or another? Damn. You checked out his back side as you walked back to your friends. 

“The hell you doing back here?” Stella asked.

“What’s happening? Why aren’t you sitting in that man’s lap?” Angela asked. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked. You grabbed your drink, the glass sweating from sitting so long. How long had you been talking to Stunna? And why did you feel like you wanted to run right back into his arms?

You took deep gulps of the fruity concoction, letting the alcohol seep through your system and chase away your anxiety. The cold from the drink burned away the lump in your throat. Being away from him helped. It helped in a way that was foreign to you to name or identify. 

People didn’t have physical reactions to others right? Like that was a thing made up by romance movies to get people’s heads in the clouds and sell more candy in stores, right? 

Your friends hounded you for answers to their questions, wondering what you spoke about and why you weren’t still talking to him.

“I didn’t want to abandon you for some guy. This is a girl’s trip. A relaxing trip,” you said.

“You better relax on that man’s dick! Like you saw him right? Like you saw the way he looked at you? Girl, please tell me she’s not that oblivious,” Stella said, leaning her head on her sister’s shoulder.

Angela tossed her hands up as if she were preaching to a congregation. “Father God, grant your child the gift of sight because she’s clearly blind,” Angela said. 

You laughed, rubbing your forehead at their embarrassing shenanigans. “I’m not oblivious!” 

“I pray that I’ll never do some dumb shit like her, Lord. Smite her and send the nigga my way, because damn,” Stella said. She looked behind you and you panicked, standing in her way to not bring attention to the fact that you were discussing Stunna. You risked a glance over your shoulder.

Stunna was sitting down at a table, faced in your direction. He lifted his glass to you and you smiled, turning around and immediately dropping it. The drink wasn’t helping. Butterflies flapped tiny wings in your stomach. He was killing you. 

“What happened to new experiences?” Angela asked.

“Not that damn new,” you muttered, sipping more of your drink. At this rate, you’d need ten drinks to calm the wings in your stomach. 

Stella groaned dramatically, throwing her arms across your shoulders. “As sweet as it is to worry about us, you see us every damn day. How often do you run across someone that damn fine in real life? In real life? He belongs in a magazine or on TV or some shit,” she said. 

That was the fucking truth. “He probably lives on the East Coast or something,” you said, waving Stella off of you. You were too hot. There were too many people here. Too many clusters of hot breath, sweat, and body heat raising the temperature in the room to dangerous levels. 

You sipped more of your drink. You tapped your foot against the hard floor, vibrating with energy that had nowhere to go. Nothing to do but zip up and down your body and twist your insides. 

“So? You ain’t trynna marry the nigga. Just get down,” Angela said and bent low, shaking her hips. Stella joined her, sticking their tongues out. Stella turned around and bounced her booty against Angela. Angela mimed hitting Stella’s ass and you laughed, waving them away.

“You two are a hot fucking mess!” You screamed. They continued to dance and giggle, shaking their ass and proceeding to make you wish the floor swallowed you whole. 

“Since our girl is romantically deficient, let’s get on the floor,” Stella said. You finished your drink and followed your friends to the dance floor. 

You started out stiff, not wanting to bump up against anyone. You didn’t need a repeat from earlier. Your friends noticed your reluctance and each took one of your hands. They began to swing you around. 

You smiled, falling for their obvious charm. You loosened up and relaxed. The drink finally did the trick and you surrendered to the music. You closed your eyes and felt the thumping beats, the instruments, and sultry crooning of the singer. 

You danced and laughed with your friends, relishing the feeling of being young and carefree. This was what you had been chasing this entire trip. This feeling of being present and in the moment. 

You began to twerk as the music changed, popping your ass to the beat of the song. Your friends cheered you on. You placed your hands on your knees and got lower. Someone sidled up behind you, not one of your friends you were sure. 

You shrugged your shoulders and kept dancing. Now was the time to keep living in the moment. You could dance with someone that wasn’t in your immediate comfort circle. You couldn’t always hang onto your friends like a barnacle. 

Large hands circled your waist and you leaned back into a lean but strong frame. The stranger felt like a man and a good dancer on top of it. Able to match your changing moves. The stranger grabbed your hands and spun you around to face him.

Stunna grinned at the surprise on your face. “I thought I told you to save me a dance,” he yelled to be heard over the music. 

“What took you so long?” You asked. 

“Like that?” He asked, exaggerating his words. You nodded. He matched your nod and then spun you back around. You giggled, breathless at being spun around like a doll. He pulled you around the dancefloor dancing to the fast-paced music with ease. Now it was you that was having trouble keeping up with him.

You faced him now and your hands were in each other’s, dancing with complicated turns and twirling limbs that made you feel like you were on Dancing With the Stars. The song finished and you waved your heads. “I need a break!” 

Stunna grinned, flashing those damn grills. You stared at them, wondering if he took them out during sex. Was he the type to go down on a woman? Stunna winked as he if sensed the direction of your thoughts.

He placed his hand on your lower back and led you back to the bar. You ordered some water and he made you order a drink. “Since you don’t wanna give a nigga your phone number,” he said with a show-stopping smile. 

You rolled your eyes. “Why do you want my number?” You asked. You drank the water bottle at his nudging.

“So I can hear that sexy ass voice in my ear,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes playfully and played with the paper around the water bottle. “You’re so bad,” you said. 

He shrugged his shoulders, calling your name like he was savoring the taste of it. “I’m still right though. I want to keep talking to you,” he said.

You could practically feel your friends on your shoulders like little devils pushing you to give him your number. What harm could it do? You held out your hand for his phone. He dug it out of his pocket and handed it to you.

His total focus on you while you entered your number was unnerving. You couldn’t help giggling as you put in your number. He reached out and trailed a finger down your arm, raising goosebumps in its wake. You messed up on a number and giggled in his direction.

“You’re distracting me,” you said. 

“Yeah? Good. But make sure that number right,” he said. He peeked across the screen as you backspaced and entered your number correctly. 

He smelled like his cologne, sweat, and whatever drink he had throughout the night. You handed his phone back to him. You fanned yourself with your clutch while he looked at his phone. 

He smiled and tapped a few times. “There, now you have my number,” he said. 

The butterflies returned to your stomach the longer you spent in his presence. He liked that he could fluster you so easily and tried his damndest to keep doing so. Your cheeks ached from all the smiling you did. 

You talked more about yourself and your friends and why you came to the D.R. He told you that he was out here celebrating for his friend’s wedding. The wedding had already passed, cheaper during the week, so they were spending the weekend celebrating with friends.

“It’s nice of you all to come out here and celebrate with them,” you said. Stunna turned his head to the side, he didn’t hear you. The music seemed to get louder and even though you yelled, he couldn’t hear you.

Stunna scooted closer to you and yelled in your ear. “Wanna go outside?” 

You looked at him and nodded. You couldn’t hear shit, but you were pretty sure you could hear your friends whooping for joy as Stunna took your hand and led you outside of the club.

Your ears popped as you reached the quiet interior of the lobby. There was a stark contrast between the two rooms and your ears rung. You shook your head, trying to clear the ringing. Stunna did the same, shaking his shoulders too for good measure.

Being out in the lobby, the base temperature felt like frost at the top of a mountain. You shivered as it highlighted buckets of sweat rolling down your spine and between your breasts. 

A drop of sweat rolled down Stunna’s arm and you followed the movement as it trailed down a prominent vein. Stunna still held your hand and you walked out of the resort, past the open pool that shimmered with light from nearby lamps. 

You walked along the concrete pathways heading down to the beach. Before you stepped onto the sand, you leaned down and took off your wedges. Stunna took off his boots, and rolled up his pants legs. 

“Looks like I was smart to wear a dress,” you said and giggled at him. 

“Damn smart. I’m glad you did. Your body in that dress, hmm,’ he said and rolled his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Stop,” you chuckled and shook your head. He was incorrigible. 

“Naw, I can’t. Your ass looks amazing. Thighs I just wanna squeeze. Lips I wanna kiss,” he said. He stood up to his full height and you stared at him.

Soft moonlight fell over his features on one side of his face. The lamps gave a warm glow on the other side. He was light, soaking it all up and reflecting it back out to seem like he had an inner glow. 

You sighed, staring at this work of art before you. You wanted to pinch yourself. You stepped closer but Stunna only smiled, grabbed your hand, and you took off down the beach. You spent time walking up and down, warm sand digging between your toes. 

You talked more, learning about him and how much he loved to read. You shared that passion and spoke about books you’ve read and favorite authors. He took your recommendations seriously, pulling out his phone to add books to a list on his phone. 

“Come back to my room,” he said.

You shook your head. “Won’t your friends be looking for you?” 

“Naw. I got my own room. I ain’t sharing shit with them nasty niggas,” he said.

You laughed, moving away from him as the sand made you trip up. Stunna pulled you back to his side. “See, yo clumsy ass need somewhere to sit. Come sit in my room,” he said. 

You were back in the same position from earlier when he rescued you from falling. He gripped your elbows, standing close enough to lick, and your hands were on his arms. He was too close, surrounding you with him. You couldn’t think past him. When you looked up, all you saw was him. 

You waited to feel panicked and shaky. To warn you to step away and flee from him. It never came. “If I go back to your room, I doubt we’ll just be sitting,” you said.

“I never said that. That’s yo nasty mind,” he said. He licked his lips. “But I like the way you think. You wanna come sit in my lap?” 

There were no reservations. No warning bells in your head. No screeches of noise or racing thoughts to prevent you from biting your lip and nodding. From grabbing his hand and watching each other as you left the beach and headed inside. 

You didn’t talk as you leaned against one another in the elevator. He placed a kiss to your head and you melted even further into him. The elevator softly dinged and the doors opened to his floor. He stayed in the building next to your room. You were sort of relieved. Had he stayed in the same building or even on the same floor, it would have been too perfect. Too obviously a set up by God or whoever was out there listening. 

Stunna swiped his keycard once he got to his room and opened the door. You walked inside the cool room and turned on lights. 

He had a suitcase on the couch of his suite, open to reveal some clothes he packed. He had shoes strewn about but for the most part, he was a clean guest. He closed the door and you turned to look at him. 

You placed your shoes on the ground next to his, marveling at the contrast between your sizes. It looked oddly perfect sitting side by side. You ignored that runaway thought as you quickly texted your friends that you would be late to the room. It was a good chance to not wait up for you at all if this night went how you were expecting.

Stunna watched you place your clutch on the TV stand. He moved about the room, cleaning up but it wasn’t necessary. Just bags and bottles of water that were on the nightstand. 

“I’ll wash off this sand,” you told him. 

“I’ll go after you. Take your time,” he said.

Take your time, yeah right. If you took long enough, you would summon your anxiety like an ancient deity out for your blood. You quickly went to the bathroom and freshened up a little, running the bath to clean off your feet. You didn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. If you did, you would chicken out. 

You didn’t want to chicken out. You wanted a wild story. A story to tuck in your heart and bring out as the years passed and you lived your life. A story that you held on to when you got older and your partying days was nearing its end. 

When you left the bathroom, Stunna had lowered the lights to make it more intimate and softer. He opened the curtains revealing a balcony that overlooked the ocean. He stood outside, twisting caps off of water bottles. He also had a bottle of Hennesy on the small table outside. 

You approached and he smiled when you did. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

He went to the bathroom to clean off the sand. You stepped out fully and enjoyed the breeze kissing your skin. You sipped some of the Hennessy, enjoying that sweet burn. The ocean waves crashed against the shore but from this height, you saw further than you did in your room. 

Few stars were able to wink in and out behind dark clouds in the sky. The half moon shone down onto the beach and over the resort. Stunna returned and wrapped his hands around your waist, leaning against you. 

He grabbed the cup from your hands and finished the rest. He kissed his way along your exposed neck, sending shivers down your spine. You sighed and relaxed into him. He made no move to do anything else, no roaming hands or nasty words. 

“You are so gorgeous,” he said.

You turned in his arms and faced him. “I’m done talking. Kiss me,” you said.

He grinned, flashing those damn golds that have been driving you crazy all night. “You sure?”

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him closer before you lost your nerve. You finally tasted him, tasted the bite of Hennessy on his lips. His lips were warm and wet and his tongue dived into your mouth. You moaned as he explored, running his tongue along yours and along your teeth. 

Stunna’s hands gripped your arms and moved lower, cupping your ass and squeezing tight. You growled from how good it felt. How wonderful it felt to be in his arms. Stunna hissed in between his kisses, like you were both on fire but he was willing to risk kissing you through the flames.

Your back was against the railing and he pushed into you, rubbing his erection against your tummy. You moaned. 

“Keep moaning like that and I won’t be able to control myself,” he said against your lips. You opened your eyes to look at him. 

“Don’t control yourself,” you said. 

He laughed and licked his lips. He sat down in the closest chair and pulled you into his lap. You straddled him, wobbling a bit since his stance was so wide. Your legs draped on the outside of his and he spread his legs so that he could spread you wider. 

His hands searched under your dress so that he could cup your ass directly. Dig those skillful fingers into the meat of your ass. He spanked one cheek and you jerked in his lap, your pussy rubbing against the fabric of his jeans. 

He growled, fingers seeking your wet heat. When he found your clit, he had no mercy. He began to run his thumb around the sensitive nub. You scooted higher on his lap, needing the friction of his jeans to help speed your arousal along. Not that you really needed it. You were already dripping for him. 

“Mm, so wet. You always sit your pretty ass on strangers and let them finger your pussy?” He asked around kissing you. 

“N-No,” you moaned. 

He suckled on your bottom lip and your pussy throbbed. He was working some type of magic between your legs. Some type of spell that threatened to rip you into pieces. 

“No? You telling me that this is all for me?” He asked. “I get to be the one to play with you?” 

“Yess,” you sighed against his lips. 

“Then I should feel special that you’re soaking my fingers already and I’ve yet to feel you?” 

“Shit,” you sighed. Your arms were wrapped completely around his neck, holding onto him and keeping him close. 

He kissed your neck, licking it, while his fingers finally dipped into your entrance. You shook with a long moan, throwing your head back as pleasure rolled through you in cascading waves. 

“Nasty little girl, aren’t you?” He asked. 

“N-No,” you whined. 

He chuckled. “You letting me play with your pussy. And it feels so good gripping my fingers. Bad little girl,” he growled against your throat. 

His other hand snaked up your body until he gripped your throat. Your eyes rolled to the back as he squeezed with force. He brought your head closer so that your foreheads were touching. 

His fingers increased in pressure and he drove them into you. Effectively fucking you with his fingers. “Say you’re a bad girl,” he said. 

Your breathing was heavy and slow, not pumping enough oxygen into your brain. Or perhaps it was him. Perhaps he was some type of demon, stealing the oxygen from your lungs as your orgasm swam to the surface. 

You couldn’t make your words work. The words stuck to the roof of your mouth like peanut butter. Your mouth moved, working double time as he stuck two fingers inside and rolled your clit with his thumb.

“Say it if you wanna cum,” he said.

“I wanna,” you whined. 

“You wanna what?” He asked. “Shit, you’re so fucking wet. Can’t wait to taste you. Do you taste as sweet as you look?” 

You whined and gyrated your hips. Why couldn’t you say anything? Why couldn’t your mouth work to speak? 

“I wanna cum,” you finally choked out. You leaned your head back. He allowed you to do so and he kissed your neck around his fingers, dipping low to kiss your chest and just above your breasts. 

“Say you’re a bad girl if you wanna cum,” he demanded. 

You were close. Incredibly close. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” you moaned.

“I’m waiting,” he whispered against your skin. Blowing air across your chest, around the pools of saliva he left on your skin. 

“I’m bad. I’m a bad girl,” you moaned.

“So bad,” he agreed.

“So bad. You make me feel so good,” you moaned. 

His fingers never stopped pumping into you. Your legs squeezed his and your eyes shut as you cried with your orgasm. Stunna continued to pump his fingers as you came, cooing against your skin. 

“So pretty when you cum,” he said. When you were done and slumped against him, he withdrew his fingers. Shivers still wracked your body. He moaned while he suckled on his fingers, licking up your essence.

You watched him as he closed his eyes and savored your taste. You licked your lips watching him. He cleaned his fingers and gave you a wink. “You okay?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I wanna taste you too,” you said. 

He grinned. “Get on your knees,” he said. You slid off of his lap with a lopsided smile. The balcony floor wasn’t entirely comfortable, but you were too focused on him unzipping his pants. He released himself from his pants and briefs. 

Your eyes widened. You couldn’t possibly fit the whole thing in your mouth?! 

Stunna chuckled and moved to put his dick away but you gripped his thighs. “I said, I want to taste you too.” You glanced at him as you took him into your mouth. He gave you an impressed smirk, licking his lips at the look of you taking him deep within your mouth.

You couldn’t fit all of him like you thought. But you got enough of him down. You hoped that your inexperience didn’t show. You’ve sucked dicks before but he was probably used to throat goats. Used to women taking him down to the base, fondling his balls, or knowing what the fuck to do.

You only knew that you wanted to keep going. Wanted to please him. You drooled on him and released him to get some air. Using both hands, you twisted his long shaft and then suckled the head of his dick back into your mouth.

His eyes opened and closed, back bowing off of the chair, as he groaned. His hand palmed your head and pushed you down on his dick, pushing you past your limit until you choked. He eased up, but you took him how he wanted. Your saliva helped your hands twist around his dick and coat his tip.

“Gahh damn. Fuckin’ nasty,” he groaned. You made a pleased sound in the back of your throat and continued to take him deeper and faster. Your sloppy, wet suckling was loud in the quiet air. 

You slurped him, drops of precum hitting your tongue. You suckled him all down, glancing at him periodically to see the ecstasy on his face. The pleasure you were bringing him. 

“Gonna bust,” he groaned.

“Wanna taste,” you said around his dick. 

His breathing turned choppy before he tensed. You felt his orgasm travel up his shaft before he moaned, releasing his cum in your mouth. You continued to milk him for every drop you could. You swallowed him all down. 

He pushed at your shoulders to stop, sounds escaping him that you never heard from a man. “Too good,” he panted.

You grinned. You wiped at the corners of your mouth. “You’re dangerous,” he said.

You blinked up innocently at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said. 

His eyebrows raised and he chuckled, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Remember you said that,” he said. 

He scooted the chair back and stood up, helping you to your feet. He pushed you into the room and closed the balcony door, leaving behind a tiny crack to still let in the breeze from the ocean. 

He unzipped your dress and dropped it to the floor, sighing at the look of your body. You never felt so cherished during sex. You weren’t expecting love and all that crap whenever you took someone to bed. It was more like an overwhelming itch that needed to be scratched.

After the deed, your anxiety returned with a vengeance and you were the first out of the door. No one wanted to deal with an anxious mess after getting off. 

With Stunna, there was none of that usual nervousness or shyness holding you back. You just wanted him. 

Your soaked panties went next. He knelt down, doing all the work of removing it. He kissed along your spine and back, the globes of your ass, and the back of your thighs. You shivered at the attention. The care with which he removed your panties.

He stood back up and unhooked your bra, freeing your breasts. He eagerly grabbed them from behind and rolled your nipples between his fingers. He pulled you until you leaned back against him.

“Can’t wait to get these in my mouth. I wanna be a gentleman, but fuck. I just want to break you,” he said.

A vicious tingle spread around your thighs. “I never asked you to be a gentleman,” you said.

He chuckled. “Fair, but I don’t wanna scare you away,” he said. 

“I’m a big girl. I can use my words when I need to,” you said.

“Yeah? Get on the bed then. Hands and knees, bad girl,” he said. He smacked your ass, hard and you did as instructed. You climbed into his bed and got on your hands and knees. 

You were too far away however. He grabbed your hips roughly and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He gripped himself and shoved into your inviting pussy with one savage thrust. His grip on your hip prevented you from escaping. You tried to lean forward, but he held you in place.

He pressed on your back until your chest was against the bed. Your ass was high in the air, giving him total access to you. He smacked your ass. 

“You been talkin’ mad shit all night,” he said. He began to stroke, delivering hard and long thrusts that immediately found your G-spot.

“Oh shit!” You cried out. 

“That’s my shit.” You heard the pleased grin in his tone. How did he find it so fast? 

He continued to stroke, hitting your sweet spot over and over with military precision. He smacked your ass with one hand while the other kept a firm grip. “You ain’t so bold now. A little dick shuts you up?” He asked. 

You couldn’t speak. He was slamming into you so hard, just the way you always dreamt of. It brought tears to your eyes. Most guys were afraid to be rough. Afraid of catching a case once you asked them to go a little deeper or stroke a little harder. 

Not Stunna. He drove into you, seeking something you couldn’t name. It didn’t take long before you were convulsing, shaking on his dick. 

“Talk to me, then. Say somethin’ else,” he said.

“Achgg,” you moaned, eyes rolling. 

Stunna continued to work himself inside of you. His dick speared you. Nearly split you in half. You bounced back on his dick, giving as much as you got. 

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Don’t let me stand in your way. You take what you need from me,” he said. 

Wet, smacking noises filled the room. The sound of your combined fucking pushed another orgasm to the surface. Your ass clapped on his thighs. Your screams were sure to draw the attention of his neighbors. 

He leaned forward and wrapped his hands around your throat. “Fuuh,” you moaned.

Both of you matched each other’s intensity. He pulled you by your throat to swallow every long inch of him. Your desperate thrusts sounded like thunder against his skin. 

“Goh, goh, fuh,” you chanted in rapid succession. 

“So good, so good. Pussy feel so good. You were made to take this dick, weren’t you? You were made for it,” he groaned. 

Your hands feebly held onto the bed in front of you but there was no use. This was so intense and passionate that your orgasm crushed you into a tiny ball and flung you into a tornado. You screamed until you were hoarse. Drool leaked out of your mouth with your whiny cries. 

Stunna continued to hold your throat and pound, chasing his own climax. “Greedy ass. Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned. 

You were shaking as you rode out your orgasm. As soon as you ended, he began. He flooded your pussy with his cum, roaring like an animal as he climaxed. Your body twitched and spasmed on his dick. His dick hit something deep inside, too deep to know what. But it hit a natural reset. 

Stunna let go of your throat and held onto your hips to keep from falling on top of you. You both panted, harsh breaths filling the room. You sniffled as you recovered, brain quiet for once. 

Stunna slipped out of you and he leaned back to watch his cum slip out. He panted and his breaths fell across your ass and pussy. 

“Fuck,” he said. 

You agreed. You never felt something like that before. Possessed. Owned. It was a feeling you would spend your entire life trying to find again. Would you be able to? 

Both of you were too wobbly to move. As if with your dual climaxes, you had entered a new plane of existence. Being back in the real world sucked. It seemed foreign. You were changed by the experience so why hadn’t the world changed? 

Stunna left to go to the bathroom and returned with a warm washcloth. You cried at the sensation. “Shh, shh, I got you,” he said.

The rough fucking was everything you needed but you were fucking sore. You ached. It felt too damn good for you to complain though. He gently cleaned you up, wiping you down and wiping off some of the sweat. 

You curled up into a ball, trying to will yourself to move. To get dressed and make your escape. You felt like the sex police would descend from the ceiling and arrest you for upsetting the natural law of the universe. 

You couldn’t move. You felt too raw, too exposed. You focused on your breathing, on drawing air in and then out. Stunna returned from the bathroom and you cringed at the picture you must make.

“I’ll leave just as soon as my legs work,” you mumbled. 

Stunna chuckled. “Can you stay?” He sat on the bed in front of you. You were too afraid to look in his eyes. You didn’t know if you were over exaggerating the moment. You wouldn’t be able to bear it if you felt like your world tilted on its axis while it was just Friday night to him. 

Stunna laid down on the bed and lifted your chin with his fingers. “Please, stay,” he whispered.

His eyes swirled with emotion. As if the moment you left, this would all disappear from memory. Until he wasn’t sure if he dreamt this or it was real. It only mirrored what you were feeling so you nodded and he grinned. “What you need?” 

For your skin to feel like it wasn't going to slough off the moment you unfurled. You looked at him with wide eyes. He nodded as if he understood the turmoil inside of you. He stood up and then came around to lay behind you. His hands came around your arms and knees, pulling you into the heat of his body.

You sighed. Exactly what you needed. He pulled the covers over you, wrapping you in a tiny cocoon of heat. You drifted off to the sound of his quiet breathing. The last thing you felt was a tiny kiss behind your ear. 

In the morning, you yawned and stretched. Stunna was asleep next to you. Somehow, you were laying properly in the bed, head on a pillow and his hand draped across your tummy. You watched him in the early morning light. 

This was dangerous. Ludicrous. It was crazy to feel this type of connection with someone else. Someone so obviously built for you yet it couldn’t last. Tomorrow you were flying back home. On Monday, it was back to classes. 

After taking a peek at the edge of the universe, how did you go back to normal? How did you carry on and keep this in your memory bank? 

You had to get out. You lifted his hand to scoot away from him. Away from the oppressive heat that made sweat pool behind your knees. 

Stunna groaned and sniffed, pulling you back against his side. “Where you think you going?” He asked. 

You giggled. “Back to my suite,” you said. 

“You was gonna sneak out? That’s cold,” he said. His deep voice was rough from sleep and it made your pussy flutter. Really? After all that last night, she was still ready to go?!

“Sneak is such an ugly word.” You sighed as he finally cracked one eye open and looked at you.

“At least let me get you breakfast. You can get changed and meet me right back here,” he said.

You laughed. “What if I have plans?” You asked.

“You do. With me,” he said. 

You shook your head. “You’re crazy.” 

He grabbed your hand and linked your fingers together. Your hands were perfect against each other, skin tones perfectly aligned. 

“Please? Text your friends and tell them you’re safe. When do you leave?” He asked.

“Tomorrow,” you said.

“See? Give me one last day until we can figure out when we’ll see each other again.” 

You sighed. You couldn’t say no to that face. Those eyes. You bit your lip and nodded. He grinned, peppering you with kisses all over your face. 

He ordered room service and ate you out before it came up. He moaned and suckled while he did so, grinding his hips into the bed like he wanted to bury his face into your pussy forever. 

When the food arrived, you talked and ate and laughed, sharing more details about yourself but not personal information like the fact that you were in school or where he was working. You talked through safe subjects but all the information you gathered about him, you held it close to your heart. 

Each passing moment spent with him carved out a section of your heart and replaced it with a gorgeous, sexy man named Stunna. You did make it back to your room where your friends gushed over your night. You still had no words but you squealed while you showered and begged their forgiveness while you planned to spend the day with Stunna. 

They encouraged you, admitting that in a move that surprised no one, they found their way to their own flavor of the day. They agreed to come back to the room at a decent hour to pack away their shit and figure out their flight. 

You spent the rest of the day with Stunna, outside of his suite, walking around the resort. It had a small gambling area where he tried to show you how to play poker. He was a very sweet teacher, but you couldn’t make heads nor tails of the rules. You were more of a spades player, but good luck finding that shit here. 

You shared desserts and walked along the beach, sitting in the sand in between his legs and talking some more. Stunna stole kisses throughout the day, unwilling to leave your lips for the second it took to breathe and join back together. 

As night fell, you ate dinner with him and found your way back to his room where you slowly peeled each other’s clothes off. Where you feasted your eyes on his skin. Gasped as he entered you once more and you gave each other untold amounts of pleasure.

Where he held you like he loved you but fucked you like you stole something from him. You came, looking into his molten brown eyes, nuzzling your cheek against the stubble on his chin. He came with your legs pinned to the mattress and his dick threatening to fuck you into the mattress, the floor, and the next floor down. 

You kissed and cuddled while you talked about talking to him every day. He entered you again while you were stubborn, saying you might be busy. 

“Naw, this shit belong to me now,” he said while he thrusted into you for the…third time that night? Fourth? Who kept count while his delicious dick was inside you and you felt whole again? Complete. 

“It belongs to me,” you said.

He grinned and bit your nipple, then licked away the sting. He continued to nibble across delicate skin, moaning when he found your other nipple and tugged with his teeth. You hissed and your back curved, giving him all the access he wanted. 

“Do we have a problem?” He asked.

“Do we?” You countered.

He grinned and then slipped out of you, only to hike one of your legs up in the air. He reentered you from the side, slamming into you until you were crying and shaking on his dick, screaming out his name. 

“Stay talkin’ shit,” he groaned as he filled you up once more.

Saying goodbye to him was the hardest shit you ever had to do. It was like you both knew that even with talking every day, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t the same as lying next to him and feeling him take up space in the room, in your heart, in your pussy. 

He kept tugging you back for one more kiss, asking if he could walk you to your room. You were blinking back tears. You didn’t want to leave him. But you couldn’t stay either. Both of you had places to be, lives to get back to. 

He leaned in the doorframe, holding your hand and not letting you leave. You smiled. “Stunna, you have to let go.” 

“I’on want to,” he said.

“It’s not forever,” you said, trying to sound hopeful. Your words only sounded sad. He sighed and rubbed his head on his arm. 

“I know. I know.” 

He pulled you close to him, capturing your lips with a devastating kiss. You licked his lips, committing the taste and smell of him to memory. “Not forever,” he said.

“Not forever.” 

You turned and snatched your hand. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have the strength to leave. A cold numbness seeped into your bones as you made the trek to your suite. Stella and Angela commented on how melancholy you seemed.

How could you explain it? That you possibly found your soulmate in Punta Cana and had to leave him here? To be happy with texts and phone calls? Poor substitutes to hugging him, cuddling him, kissing him, fucking him? 

You told them that you were all fucked out to explain it now. Ask you in a week. When your heart wasn’t broken and the pain was less intense. Less potent. 

They left you alone to wallow while you all packed up your things and souvenirs. The ride back home was uneventful. You weren’t up to the usual plane shenanigans of talking and comparing in-flight meals. You didn’t feel like eating at all. 

You texted Stunna that you arrived safely and even spoke to him on the phone. But it only hurt worse. “C’mon, we said not forever,” he said. 

The bastard was right though. Hearing his voice in your ear helped but it wasn’t the same.

“Not forever. I just want you here,” you said.

“I know. We did a few things backward, but when we’re comfortable, we’ll arrange something,” he said. 

You talked until you absolutely had to go to sleep to get ready for class. Luckily, your first class of the day was in the afternoon. You had a chance to recover from the plane ride and time difference.

Everything was dull. The California sun was dull. The campus was boring. Students felt like aliens to you, playing and existing in a world that ended for you back in Punta Cana in Stunna’s arms. 

You sighed, not for the hundredth time, as you dragged your carcass across campus and to your class. Settling into your literature class, you didn’t share this with Stella and Angela. You were left to look out of the window, mind far, far away.

Your pen tapped on the desk, picturing that accidental bump into Stunna over and over again. Act of fate? Accident? How could you meet the love of your life only for you to be ripped away from him and planted back into your normal life like nothing was wrong? 

The door opened and you assumed your teacher came through. Whatever.

“Sorry, I’m late. Not used to the campus yet.”

Your head whipped around and there he was. Stunna stood at the front of the class wearing a deep brown sweater over chocolate colored pants. The sleeves were rolled up revealing his smooth forearms. 

He wrote his name on the whiteboard and your heart seized in your chest. Panic made your heart pound against your rib cage, practically screaming to be let out. You sunk in your seat. Ohgodohgodohgodohgod.

Stunna turned around and smiled at the class. When his eyes found yours, his jaw dropped and he stared. He stared and stared and you didn’t know what he was thinking or what he was going to do.

He cleared his throat and smiled at the class, introducing his real name. Not that you thought Stunna was his real name, but it was the name he usually went by. His eyes kept returning to yours.

You…slept with your college professor. Your life was over. Ruined. How the hell could you fall in love with your professor? And what the hell were you going to do now?

The Secret Big Stunna Files | Part 2 | Part 3

[stayconnecteed]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀“ no nut november. ”⠀⠀───⠀⠀sigma kappa zeta.

⠀⠀𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗋𝗈𝖽𝗎𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.⠀( november event , 𝟦.𝟤𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌. )⠀the bet.

1.⠀⠀PAIRING⠀⠀:⠀⠀each member individually x f!reader.

2.⠀⠀GENRES⠀⠀:⠀⠀non!idol au, college au, sigma kappa zeta au⠀; stablished relationships, brother's best friend trope, idiots to lovers / best friends to lovers, started dating recently ( first time together ), friends with benefits to lovers.

3.⠀⠀WARNINGS⠀⠀:⠀⠀not much. swearing, alcohol consumption, comedy. jisung is a menace, hyunjin's just curious ( and a simp ) cameo of three idols hehe try to discover who they are. this is just the intro of the no nut november event.

4.⠀⠀AUTHOR 'S NOTE⠀⠀:⠀⠀i'm sosososo sorry for updating this again but i wanted to re do the aesthetic and change a couple of things- i'm a perfectionist :(( this is a little comedic introduction to the hot mess that this no nut november event is going to be!! hope you like it 🤍

5.⠀⠀IMPORTANT⠀⠀:⠀⠀if any under 18 or ageless acc interacts with this series they will be blocked. the content presented throughout the event might be comedic, but it's mostly for adults. that being said, if you're not comfortable with the kinks or the plot, please leave. read under your own responsability.

Hyunjin hummed the Latin song that was playing and leaned his head against the door as soon as it closed behind him, sighing. He had said he needed to go to the bathroom, and he hadn't lied, but the truth was that all he wanted was to sit on the cold tiles of the room and rest for a moment. He had started drinking alcohol earlier than usual that night, and it had crept up on him too quickly, as it always did when he had a bad day. They had only been in class for a few weeks, but Professor Park, with his indifferent gaze and rude language, had already announced all the projects they were going to have to do that semester. And Hyunjin hadn't liked any of them.

So he had left you dancing in the middle of the fraternity hall, with your friends and some of his members, after whispering to you that he would be right back. There was a queue in the downstairs toilets, but since it was his house after all, he hurried upstairs and locked himself in on his own. He peeled himself away from the door, feeling the sweat slide down his back, and considered taking off his oversized shirt, but there was no point. He would probably catch a cold, and he had to go downstairs again in a few minutes anyway. He poured the last of his vodka down the sink, and rinsed out his plastic cup before filling it with water from the tap, emptying it instantly.

He felt it go down his throat, and he smiled. At last some coolness on that disgustingly warm night. From the bathroom annex to his room he could barely hear the sticky, deafening atmosphere where friends and strangers were enjoying that October night, and he was grateful that Changbin's parents had donated a generous amount of money to renovate and improve the old house they now lived in. He refilled the glass again and left it by the tap, unbuttoning the sleeves of his shirt to splash water on his face and the back of his neck. He rested his arms over the sink without drying off, and let the cold creep into his bones.

But he had to go downstairs. He knew that if he took too long you would start to worry, because he was aware that he had looked a bit overwhelmed when he had left. He couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips at the thought of you, and with his plastic cup back in his hand he headed down the stairs two at a time, trying to remember where exactly in the hall he had left his friends. He bumped into an entangled couple looking for some privacy, and lowered his head apologetically, even though it wasn't really his fault, and then he heard it.

Before he reached the bottom steps, three boys he didn't remember seeing in any of his classes, talking in whispers somewhat elevated by alcohol, joking around with amusement.

“I don't think anyone's been able to make it to the end, really,” one was saying, the one who had his hands hidden in the sleeves of his dark jacket, as if he was embarrassed to talk about the topic.

“Oh, I think so,” replied his friend, his tanned skin sparkling under the glitter he had smeared across his bare arms, “it's just that no one talks about it. But you know someone who has, I can tell you that.”

“One of our hyungs?” replied the one who had intervened the first time, his eyes widening comically. Instead of offering an answer, the boy cracked a wolfish grin, some of his moles disappearing into the crooks of his skin, his eyes narrowed.

“Don't mind him, Sang,” interrupted the third, in the striped crop top, resting his elbow on the shoulder of the one who had turned his grin into an unbelieving scowl. Hyunjin stood on the stairs with his back to them and picked up his phone, pretending to answer some messages, curious. “He’s making things up. Again.”

“Yah! I'm telling the truth!” the guy protested, uproariously.

“Yeah, whatever you say, Woo,” the one who had spoken was the last one, with his orangish hair, probably rolling his eyes. It was a classic interaction between some of his friends, Hyunjin knew, and he supposed some dynamics were quite similar even in different groups. “I'm just saying that people might be able to make it to the end of the challenge, but it's extremely difficult in college.”

“Unless you're a virgin.”

“Unless you're a virgin,” the ginger repeated, agreeing with the one they had called Sang.

“Seems to me you're wrong,” the dark-haired man in the black tank top countered. “It's true that at uni people are very horny, but No Nut November is a challenge that anyone can do.”

“Dude, you're in a state of denial,” they replied, bursting into laughter. “And you of all people would be incapable of making it to December without touching yourself.”

“What the fuck would you know?”

“Walls talk,” replied the one in the striped top.

“And drunk San talks too,” Sang added again, hiding a chuckle behind his hand.

Hyunjin lowered his head as they ended the conversation and walked past him back to the party, his gaze glued to the screen of his phone, their laughter fading into the music and the crowd. He realised he'd been randomly opening and closing apps, and ended up looking up the name of the challenge they'd been talking about on Naver. He had never heard of it, and it seemed odd, especially since he lived under the same roof as Han Perv Jisung.

The first page that popped up was Wikipedia, of course (not of course, he didn't really expect something like that to be on an official website, he would have gone straight to the Urban Dictionary if he wasn't worried about anyone seeing what he was doing on his phone). He turned down the brightness on the screen until he had to squint to read the text clearly, and processed each word with a blush on his cheeks.

“No Nut November, often abbreviated to NNN, is an annual internet challenge of sexual abstinence and not masturbating during the month of November. [ ¹ ] It originated in 2011 and grew in popularity among male users of social media during and after 2017. [ ² ] Destroy Dick December serves as a counterpoint.”

Specifically male users, because females were way too smart to challenge each other to such stupid things. Sounds about right for him.

“HISTORY. Although No Nut November was originally intended to be satirical, some participants claim that abstaining from ejaculating and not watching pornography has health benefits. [ ³ ] [ ¹ ] An Urban Dictionary entry for No Nut November was published in 2011, …”

See? Urban Dictionary. Hyunjin chuckled. He knew it.

He felt his phone being taken from him before he was really conscious, and just as an angry exclamation was about to slide off his tongue he saw that the one who had stolen it was Jisung, one hand occupied with a cup of what he knew to be a soda ーhe didn't tolerate alcoholic beverages wellー and the other with his precious phone. Hyunjin frowned, turning to his friend with the intention of getting it back, but began to worry when he saw Jisung's eyes dart greedily across the screen, reading the web page Hyunjin had failed to hide.

Shit.

“Oh God” he whispered, slowly raising his head until he painfully made eye contact with Hyunjin.

“What?” asked Seungmin, who was coming after Jisung, and Hyunjin felt his heart sink in his chest. The mix of Jisung and Seungmin messing with him at the same time was strange, because normally they took turns making his life miserable, but the two of them together was lethal. And Hyunjin needed a good night's sleep and less alcohol in his system to deal with them.

“No,” he warned Jisung, pointing at him with a threatening finger.

But that word alone set Seungmin's eyes on fire, curious, as he tried to read over Jisung's shoulder what was on Hyunjin's phone. It wasn't necessary, however, because Jisung had no hesitation about announcing it out loud.

“Hyunjin wants to do No Nut November!” he basically shouted out.

Great. Just great.

“For real?” Seungmin asked, surprised.

Did everyone know what the challenge was about but him?

“No I do not,” he answered, sighing in surrender and taking his phone. He exited the Naver app and locked the screen, putting the phone in the pocket of his jeans. He would try to explain politely that no, he was just wondering what it was, that he wanted to be left alone, and then he would go find you and get the hell out of there. “Some dudes were talking about it and…”

“Well, you wouldn’t last anyway,” Jisung stated, a smirk plastered on his face.

“The hell I wouldn’t,” he defended himself, frowning in confusion. If there was someone that wouldn’t last, it was Jisung. No doubt.

“You’re glued to your girl, man.”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn't I?” he retorted, cocking an eyebrow. “At least I have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, wow,” Jisung exhaled, nodding ironically, “wow. Just because I don't, it doesn't mean I can't.”

“Hate to break it to you,” started Seungmin, leaning into the handrail of the stairs, curving his lips, “but he’s right. You’re bitchless. In fact, you still wouldn't last because you have the urges of a dog in heat.”

“I should feel attacked.”

“The fact that you don't just proves my point,” Seungmin chuckled, crossing his arms.

“And you actually can't because you only have eyes for your pretty friend,” added Hyunjin, anticipating Jisung's response. “What was her name…?”

“Oh, stop,” uttered Jisung, frowning towards his friend. “Don't bring her into this.”

Hyunjin was about to mock his tone, as he always did when Jisung's best friend topic came into the conversation, but got interrupted by Seungmin's sly words.

“You know who wouldn't last at all?” he asked, and Jisung hummed a faint ‘Who?’, both of them following Seungmin's gaze into the crowd.

Bang Chan. The leader of their fraternity. Seungmin's eyes glowed with the spark of mischief that always rolled off him when he wanted to tease him, and Hyunjin didn't have to wonder why that time. His Chan hyung was not the soul of the party, instead just popular on campus and surely a social butterfly, but he was pretty reserved when it came to his private life. He was near the speakers and Changbin's mixer, ready to hop in if the DJ needed him ーself proclaimed DJutdwae for whatever reasonsー but holding onto his girlfriend for his life.

It was not a rare vision, Chan clinging to his girl, more often that not with his arms around her shoulders or their fingers intertwined, but they somehow turned the crowded room into their own bubble, looking into each other's eyes with overflowing love, her hands in his curly hair, his on her soft waist. Like they were totally alone, moving their hips to the lively beat, whispering into their ears. It was disgustingly adorable.

“Oh, no,” Jisung spoke, relieved, “we're safe.”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin chimed, still looking at his hyung. “And he's doomed.”

“You still wouldn't last.”

“Oh my God, Jisung, drop it already.”

“You two talk like we're even going to do it,” Seungmin sighed, taking Hyunjin's cup and drowning it in one go. He grimaced. “You have water?”

“I needed a break,” he voiced, shrugging.

“Can't even keep up?” Hyunjin was going to punch Jisung before the night was over if he didn't stop, he was sure of it.

His phone vibrated over the wooden nightstand, in the warm darkness of your room and he flinched in his sleep, swollen eyes narrowing to turn it off before it could wake you up.

But then it vibrated again.

that's not very noice [ today, 12:35 p.m. ] from: the "rapper" sooo we doing nnn or what??

Hyunjin scoffed, running his hand over his face when he read Jisung's message in the frat group chat, trying to shake the sleep off him. He should had killed him when he had the chance. It was Saturday morning and all he wanted was to cuddle his girl and have a day in with delivery food and a cute TV show on the screen. 

And all he had to do, at the moment, because of Jisung, was to deal with his apparently damaged brain cells ーor even nonexistent, at that point.

from: me omg drop it already

from: seungminnie ji's still drunk, you guys

Seungmin was quick to add his part, and Hyunjin thanked him mentally for defending him. He wasn't going to choose to support Ji, at least on this occasion.

from: chan hyung do i want to know what’s “nnn”?

A breathy chuckle escaped Hyunjin's lips when he read his hyung's message, and he stopped, his body tense like an bowstring, when he felt you shifting in the sheets, the mattress lowering under your weight as you unconsciously seeked Hyunjin's warmth, even asleep. You were going to wake up, and he would hate himself if that happened. 

Hyunjin stood up, leaving the phone on his pillow while he tucked you into the bed, brushing a soft kiss on your forehead before getting out of the room.

Felix had texted the group chat as well.

from: lixie who the fuck gave him the idea?

from: the "rapper" chill it’s hyunjin who wants to do it

Hyunjin scoffed again. He couldn't believe it. He walked softly over the wooden floor until the living room, and locked himself inside while typing his answer.

from: me no the fuck i do not? what is wrong with you?

from: chan hyung what’s the nnn?

Well, at least he wasn't the only one that didn't know about it. He waited for Jisung's answer, sitting down on the couch, but it never came.

from: seungminnie you wouldn’t last anyway, hyung

from: innie seungmin ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

from: the "rapper" [ @ chan hyung ] it’s a challenge

from: minho hyung you know what? i’m in

Oh my God. He was doing it to annoy him, he was sure. Jisung had probably texted Minho already, to plan it together and make him lose his mind. Orー wait. Maybe they truly wanted to do it, and they were using him just in case the rest of the group didn't really want to. It sounded like them, to be honest. Those freaky bastards.

from: me nobody’s asking

from: seungminnie [ @ minho hyung ] wow feeling confident, huh?

from: minho hyung [ @ me ] you didn’t ask ji did [ @ seungminnie ] are you not? think you can’t last?

Okay, confirmed then. Minho wanted to participate, and probably Jisung too. That was the typical sentence everyone had said sometimes to rile someone up. Inverse psychology. The challenge before the actual challenge.

from: chan hyung what does this challenge involve?

from: the "rapper" you’ve had enough time to check it online, hyung

from: chan hyung do i want to tho? who knows what could appear

from: lixie it’s the no nut november, hyung

changbinnie hyung but we’re in october?

Hyunjin couldn't suppress his laughter when he read Changbin's words, his head thrown back towards the backrest, leaning over the cushions. And then he covered his mouth, eyes wide open. He had to keep it quiet.

from: the "rapper" you're stupid

from: changbinnie hyung and you're a pain in the ass don't you have something more productive to be doing?

from: the "rapper" like what? study for finals? those are in 3 months i rather focus on nnn

from: seungminnie omg you're completely serious

The sound of ringing startled Hyunjin out of the conversation, and he stared at the door, completely flabbergasted. It was past noon on a Saturday morning after a party. People should be resting. He checked the conversation while he wandered to the door, eyes rolling back with every answer from Jisung.

from: the “rapper” ofc i am why wouldn't i

from: me because it's not fun?

from: the “rapper” yes it is?

He sighed, stuffing his phone in the pocket of his shorts. It was clear that they were not going to stop until they got everyone to agree to participate. He had just seen Minho typing. He felt the device vibrate against his thigh. Just to get them to stop, they would comply. He glanced through the peephole, and discovered his fraternity's maknae waiting in the hallway with a large plastic bag in his hands, his eyes focused on his phone.

He opened the door.

“What are you doing here?”

Jeongin peeled his gaze from the screen, smiling like he couldn’t believe what was going on. Well, Hyunjin couldn’t either. But he watched as Jeongin passed him through the corridor, ignoring him while reading the chat, doing a bee line until he reached the couch, and he sprawled there.

“Who even gave him the idea?” he whispered, leaving the white bag in the floor.

“Well, some random dude named Woo, I think,” he answered, avoiding his eyes.

“You know you blush when you lie, don’t you?” Jeongin asked, unimpressed. “It was you.”

He didn’t formulate it as a question, so Hyunjin didn’t deny it. Just nodded.

“Why are you here?” he repeated, fighting back.

“Your girl invited me over, remember?” Jeongin rolled his eyes, like it was not the first time that happened. “I brought lunch.”

“Right.”

Hyunjin’s gaze returned to Jeongin’s phone, the texts still coming in, and fetched his own to check them.

from: minho hyung it could if we did it

from: the “rapper” see? minho hyung approves

from: minho hyung ji as much as i appreciate you you're the first losing if we do it and you don't even have a gf

Jeongin laughed out loud, and Hyunjin frowned at him. It was always funny, Minho teasing Jisung, but you were sleeping right at the other side of the wall. And they had already made so much noise. He quickly typed “told you” to Jisung, and shushed his maknae.

But it was useless, because he saw you peeking through the door, sleepy eyes narrowing at Jeongin, sliding your socks over the floor on his way, your arms finding home around his waist, back hugging him. He smiled, humming, and you nosed into his naked shoulders, falling asleep against him. He gave Jeongin a dirty look for waking you up, but he was looking at the chat again.

from: chan hyung “No Nut November, often abbreviated to NNN, is an annual internet challenge of sexual abstinence and not masturbating during the month of November.”?

from: changbinnie hyung are you crazy?? i'm not doing that

from: the “rapper” boo

from: seungminnie why? can't last a month without touching your gf AND yourself?

from: changbinnie hyung why would i want to suffer like that?

from: minho hyung for a prize

from: innie you've thought this through, huh?

from: me a prize??

“What are you guys texting so seriously about?” you murmured against his skin, suppressing a yawn, and dragging yourself to the couch, placing your legs over Jeongin's thighs.

“Hyunjin gave Ji the idea to challenge all of us into No Nut November and we’re talking about it,” the maknae explained, not even looking at you, focused on the screen of his phone. You raised an eyebrow, curious, and glanced over his shoulder, sighing as Hyunjin sat down next to you.

from: lixie you're seriously considering participating just for the prize??

“Are you?” you asked, turning to your boyfriend.

He shrugged.

from: innie wouldn't you??

“You too?” you asked again, in disbelief.

from: lixie no??

from: chan hyung but are we considering this?? like, at all??

from: seungminnie seems like it

from: changbinnnie hyung aren't we going to fight for our freedom??

Hyunjin heard you giggle, and he smiled.

from: the “rapper” ooh c'mon binnie hyung 🥺

from: me what's the prize?

“Hyune, baby, are you sure?”

He turned to you, phone still in his hands, and his features switched to a more serious demeanour when he saw the doubt in your eyes.

“I’m just playing around with them,” he said, resting his hand on your thigh. “We will probably do it, but if you don’t want to, I’ll just be the first loser.”

“Maybe you change your mind after reading what they’re proposing as the prize, guys,” Jeongin chimed in.

from: minho hyung it has to be something big we can spend some money on it and the one that wins doesn't have to pay

from: seungminnie like a weekend in a hotel or smth?

“Do you like it?” he questioned, head tilted to his side and worry tinting his eyes.

You shrugged. “Could be fun, I guess.”

from: the “rapper” hyunjin's finally contemplating it i can feel it

from: innie he's discussing it w his gf which you can't because you're bitchless

from: the “rapper” that's not very nice

from: chan hyung no but hyune is right the ones w gf should discuss it w them before agreeing to anything

“You don’t look like you could have fun, pretty girl,” he retorted, insisting. “I’m not agreeing to something you’re not comfortable with, jokes aside.”

“I’m still sleepy, Hyune, don’t mind me,” you whispered, curving your lips in a shy smile. “It could be fun, really.”

“And we can win a nice weekend alone,” he added, resting his head on your shoulder, his nose brushing the skin of your neck.

“Yeah, we can,” you accepted, feeling his lips on the hollow between.

“But you guys have the brain cells of a 5 year old kid, I swear to God,” you exhaled, throwing your head back.

“Yah!”

“No, she’s right,” Hyunjin said, “and Wikipedia agrees.”

from: lixie you can always offer them the prize as a reward

from: innie that's literally what hyunjin's doing

from: seungminnie are you w them?

from: innie yeah i brought take out

from: changbinnie hyung are we really, really sure we’re doing this?

from: me changbin hyung, just accept it jisung has convinced almost all of us

“And their girlfriends,” you add, hiding your smile in Hyunjin’s skin.

“True,” he agrees, “we have to give him that.”

from: chan hyung what did your gf said?

“Chan’s the sweetest,” you commented.

Jeongin glazed swiftly towards you two, and then typed.

from: innie “you're going to lose anyway”

He smiled when he heard your giggle, and Hyunjin did too, writing his defense.

from: me shut up, she did not she said it's unbelievable and something about how we act like toddlers and then she agreed the hotel has to be a good one

from: chan hyung hotel choosing is on me dw

from: minho hyung i want it to be a camping weekend

“God, he’s obsessed,” Jeongin complained.

from: seungminnie you're not going to win

from: minho hyung watch me

from: chan hyung my girl said it's up to me

“She’s the best, too,” you whispered.

from: lixie ohh you're fucked

from: chan hyung not like that, genius i have the last word because she trusts me if seungmin's and changbin's agree, we do this

from: seungminnie no problem

“Of course she said yes,” Jeongin had a smiled plastered all over his face. “Seungmin’s going to suffer. She will not make it easy for him.”

from: the “rapper” are you sure she said that?

from: seungminnie think you know her better?

from: the “rapper” she's a menace

from: seungminnie yes she is still, she said we're in

from: lixie okay my bad seungmin's fucked

from: seungminnie why it's true she likes to compete just leave us alone [ @ changbin ] what about you

from: changbinnie hyung i guess we're in too

from: the “rapper” OKAY OKAY WE'RE IN

from: me that sounds pathetically similar to you trying to convince yourself

“Leave hiim,” you murmured, “he’s panicking now, poor thing.”

from: the “rapper” shut up

from: seungminnie hey at least it's the only way jisung can prove that not having a gf is a good thing

from: minho hyung he still has to last a whole month w 31 days without touching himself

from: lixie good luck, mate

from: innie yeah, good luck you're going to need it

from: the “rapper” omg this is bullying chan hyung [ @ chan hyung ] do you see this?

from: chan hyung suddenly i'm blind i can't see

from: minho hyung good luck to our simp soldiers too a month without touching their gf is going to be hell

from: changbinnie hyung do not remind me

from: seungminnie we still have 15 days to enjoy before it starts

“That’s true,” Hyunjin uttered, his lips glued to your skin, “we will seize every second, mm-hm?”

from: chan hyung good luck to everyone!!

“If you’re going to fuck in this couch I’m fucking leaving,” Jeongin whined, covering his eyes.

“We’ll let you eat in peace, baby,” you reassured him, laughing.

“But then you’re leaving,” mouthed Hyunjin, squinting his eyes to emphasise the threat.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝑡𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍.

@skzms , @starlostastronaut , @rylea08 , @atinyniki , @jazziwritesthings , @manuosorioh , @hanjsquokka , @linosssss , @babybearcubbs , @kayleefriedchicken , gnabnahc097 , @caitlyn98s , @reignessance , @starlostseungmin , @bbokari711 , @nebugalaxy , @nxtt2-u , @strawberrysworld26 , @catiuskaa , @lyramundana , @jisunglyricist , @jisuperboard , @choixlia , seungminniez , juuh-07 , ayyonoona , @seolarzone , @my-neurodivergent-world ( + )ㅤㅤ @dearalice , @hyunjinhoexxx , @jisungsbff01 , @highlydestiny ( + )⠀⠀ @ruth-odyssey , @paborachaslvt , @straykidslvr , @tirena1 , fantasicalmagical , @unhxlyim

ㅤㅤ© stayconnecteed 2024 ★ do not copy, translate, repost or share this work as yours on other platforms ! consider leaving a comment or reblogging.

[xveenusx]

Love

Paring(s): rafe cameron x fem!reader

Summary: in which two people come to terms with how dangerous their love is, but it's impossible to leave.

Author's note: Rafe on his knees is sending me. This is part two to Hate and is complete angst because I like to hurt my own feelings. ALSO, the GIFS depict exactly what's going to happen in this peice to help you visualize it better :)

Rating: ANGSTY, but kind of a good ending but not really bc they are horrible for each other

Warnings: v toxic relationship

Part 1: Hate

━━ ★ Masterlist

_____________________

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

My head hung against the cool tile in the shower, water pounding against my body as I fought against the urge to succumb to my pain.

You won't ever be over me

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Yet, it didn't work. I couldn't block out his words as they pistoled into my mind again and again. Slapping my hand against the tile, I groaned out loud and rubbed my eyes.

Memories of my mistake continue to stampede over every coherent thought I could form. It was embarrassing how easily I gave into him, but when he touched me, all sense went out the window.

He was the chink in my armor, because when he loved me, I mean really loved me, the sun shined brighter and the world went into focus. He could ask me anything and I would have told him in a heart beat. There was just this sense of security that finally gave me the ability to be myself. I felt like I was safe and solid ground for the first time in my life.

But as time went on, there were small slip ups that caught my attention. The hushed meetings with his father, his eagerness to be around my friends, the constant Q and A about gold.

I pushed passed the alarm bells ringing in my head because I didn’t want it to end. I caught him in lie after lie which always ended in a screaming match. I’d storm away but it always ended in us finding our way back to each other. Always.

Maybe it’s wrong to say this, but I was relieved that he needed me just as bad as I needed him. He couldn’t seem to leave me alone either.

The longer we were together, I couldn’t help but begin to question why he was really with me. The idea of there being an ulterior motive for loving me paralyzed me with fear.

Because, if that was true, I didn't think I'd survive it.

So like a junkie, in every sense of the word, I gave into the drug that was Rafe Cameron and gave him anything he wanted. I became an entirely different person that I didn't recognize.

I was so desperate to be loved by him that it almost killed me.

A familiar burning behind my eyes made me smile in irony. Tears usually accompanied anything that involved Rafe.

I slowly slid down the shower wall, bringing my knees to my chest, and set my chin on top. Closing my eyes, I attempted to focus on the pounding of the water but despite the noise, it couldn’t overpower the noise in my head.

Detoxing was nearly impossible. I'd take another dose, and then another, but when the high eventually wore of—because it always did—this is what was left:

A shell of me withered down in self loathing.

I hate you.

No, you don't.

The water eventually turned cold but I refused to move from my spot on the floor. I just couldn't face him, not yet.

It hurt to fucking look at him.

A fist pounded on the bathroom door but I chose to ignore it. I shivered slightly at the ice cold water but preferred this biting pain over what awaited me on the other side of that door.

"Open the door."

I turned my head away from the door and instead rested my cheek on the top of my knee and stared at the wall.

"I'm not fucking kidding. Open the door, why is this shit locked anyway?"

I rolled my eyes. The dramatics were unmatched.

"Go away." I croaked out, hoping for once in his god damn life that he listened. "I swear to god."

"I'm shaking in my boots, babe."

Jesus Christ.

"Rafe-"

"I can hear you crying from out here."

That shut me up. I thought I was being discreet. "I'm fine. Please go away."

He pounded on the door again. "Do you really think a locked door is gonna stop me?."

My eyes closed briefly at his words. The organ in my chest that refused to listen to reason began to beat a little harder.

"Rafe, please. I need a minute." My voice cracked at the end of my plea.

It was quiet for a few moments before I heard his feet shuffle away. I relaxed in relief at his departure and lifted my head directly under the water, hoping it will clear my mind.

"Fuck this." Was all I heard before a sharp crack echoed and the door busted open.

My gaze found his and it took all my strength to not shrink under his gaze. I'm sure I was a sight for sore eyes, curled up on the floor of the shower shivering.

Rafe let out a distressed noise before moving towards me but I scooted back, throwing my palm up. “Stop.”

He stopped in his tracks with narrowed eyes. “You have about five seconds.”

“Boundaries. We need boundaries.”

“Boundaries?” He repeated slowly, making it seem like the term was foreign to him. “What the fuck for?”

“Because I need a moment. Let me cry in peace.”

Rafe nodded his head and relief let me drop my shoulders.

“Well, I’m not leaving you alone when you cry, there, that’s my boundary.”

I open my mouth and close it. He couldn’t be serious?

He shut off the water while letting out a string of curses as he took in my shivering figure. Yanking a towel off the rack, I'm suddenly enveloped in warmth as he wrapped the towel around my body and picked me up.

His scent lured me in like an old friend. Exhaustion weighed on me heavily so I gave in yet again.

I shoved my face into his neck enjoying the warmth his body provided and the shivering slowly subsided. Rafe said nothing as he set me on the edge of the bed and softly began to dry me.

He was gentle despite the severe expression he wore.

“We should probably talk.” He uttered, running the towel along my legs.

I shook my head, the desire to sleep was overwhelming.

Rafe paused. “I can already feel you pulling back from me.”

He knew me all too well.

Arguing him was pointless. We’d both end up with our voices gone and nothing solved.

“I can’t do this with you right now. I just want this day to be over.” I spoke quietly, fiddling with my fingers.

Rafe doesn’t answer me, instead he grabs some satin set and slowly started to dress me. Lifting my arms, he pulled the thin tank over my head before kneeling down and doing the same with the bottoms.

It was moments like this that almost made me cave. Rafe Cameron, of figure eight, heir to a real estate empire, was down on his knees for a Pogue.

Pressing a gentle kiss to my inner knee, he stood up, towering over me with his hand cupping my face. His face was the picture of relaxed despite our current kidnapping, but I knew it was solely because we were together.

“This can’t happen again.” The words were out of my mouth in seconds.

He just smiled, humming softly to himself as he continued to stare.

So I tried again. “You can sleep on the floor.”

That made the smile drop fast.

“You want me to sleep on the floor?”

“Yes.”

“Like the actual floor?” Rafe asked slowly, his gaze moving down to the hard wooden floor in distaste.

“The fucking floor, Rafe.”

His eyes narrowed at my tone, “Why?”

“Because I said so.” Because, my panties will be off in seconds.

“Try again. I’ll argue with you all night until you tell me why.”

“Does this not hurt you as much as it hurts me? Looking at you fucking kills me.”

“I’m going to marry you. It might not be today, it might not be tomorrow. But I will marry you," He said the words so nonchalantly, you would think he was discussing the weather, "So no, it doesn’t hurt me to look at you, to be around you, because I know this is never going to end. I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you."

I waited, for what seemed like forever, to hear him say these words. Yet, now that he did, I simply didn't believe it. Too much has happened. His words no longer held the weight that they used to and for a brief moment I felt a twisted sense of relief because that meant I was one step closer to being free of the shackles that chained me to him.

My brows furrowed as I tried to think of something to say, but nothing came out.

I shook my head and crawled towards the front of the bed, tugging the sheets down and burrowing myself into a cocoon. "Go to sleep, Rafe."

He muttered something under his breath as he walked over to the makeshift bed on the floor. I heared some shuffling before a heavy sigh echoed in our room and I knew he finally settled.

It was for the best. My sanity needed to remain intact and this was the only way. That didn't stop me from missing the warm embrace of his body that always lulled me to sleep.

Rolling onto my side, I peaked over the side of the bed and saw his head already turned in my direction. A faint smirk tugged at the coner of his lips and his eyes sparkled with amusement.

"You still want me on the floor?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yes." No.

Rafe let out a chuckle before silence enveloped us and the only thing I could hear was the sound of our steady breathing. All trace of humor left his face and we stared at each other, his eyes never leaving mine. It almost appeared like he was commiting my face to memory.

"You're safe. You can go to sleep," Rafe murmured, "I won't let anything happen to you."

A familar rush of affection slammed into my chest and I forced myself to break eye contact first. I couldn't let him see the expression that adorned my face. He was embedded deeply into my soul.

"I-" I love you.

Rafe cut me off, "I know."

Curled on my side with the sheets pulled up to my neck, I closed my eyes and whispered painfully, "I wish I didn't."

I could feel his gaze burning holes into my back, but I knew better than to turn around. Sleep, I told myself, everything will be better tomorrow.

Minutes passed and I knew he wasn't going to answer.

"I know that too." Was all I heard before I embraced the darkness with open arms.

_______________

Disoriented.

That's how I woke up. My eyes felt heavy and my head drummed against my skull. This pain comparable to only being severely hungover. Yet, I barley had anything at all. It was simply the Rafe effect, also known as extreme emotional distress.

I rubbed the sleepiness from eyes while my mind betrayed me with replays of the last 24 hours. Peering over the edge of the bed, Rafe is sprawled out awkwardly on the ground sleeping. His bare chest slowly rising up and down, his necklace gleaming from the morning light that seeped into the room.

It hurt to look at him, but when I looked away, it hurt even more. The fear of forgetting what he looked like or how he sounded when he laughed consumed me. What if everything faded?

Love and hate were more similar than one would think.

As if sensing I was was awake, Rafe shifted onto his side and opened his eyes slowly. I watched as his eyes took in our surroundings before last 24 hours finally hit him.

Instantly, his eyes find mine and his body relaxes, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

He got up from his spot on the floor and made his way over to me. Sleepiness still present in his eyes, but his face was content. The bed dips and a warm hand pushed my hair out of my eyes before tracing my nose then the outline of my lips.

"Good morning." The low raspy timber of his voice had me clenching my thighs together.

I allowed myself these few seconds to bask under the glow of his attention. Swallowing down the lump in my throat at what I'm about to do, I steel the storm of emotions that brew inside me.

Moving my face out of his grasp, I shifted my body into a sitting positon, placing a slight distance between us. "I meant what I said last night. This will not happen again."

The words burned coming out my mouth.

"Can we just skip this part?"

I shot him a blank look. "What part?"

He heaves out a sigh, his large hand rubbing against his buzzed head. "Aren't you tired?"

Did he hit his head? Confused filled me as I glanced at the unmade bed. "Tired? I just slept-"

Rafe barked out a bitter laugh. "Of running. Aren't you tired of running?"

My fingers gripped my satin top in an attempt to control my anger. He would choose this exact moment to bait me. Maybe six months ago I would have taken the bait, but I was drained.

He always chose the hard way.

"Really? You want to have this conversation now?" Keep calm. Breathe.

Rafe searched my face with a serious expression, then his lips tipped. "I don't know if you remember, but we have all the time in the world."

I rolled my eyes. Despite my very weak attemps at pushing him away, Rafe never seemed discouraged. He only appeared mildly annoyed at my desperate attempts to kick him out of my life.

"You're about 6 months late on your right to have this conversation. Now, get off of my bed." I tried to shove him off. Nothing.

Blue eyes narrowed. Good, I hope he was mad. He'll finally understand what it was like to be me the past couple months.

"If you're trying to piss me off, it's working. So stop." Was all he said, with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Stop doing what, Rafe? There is nothing left to talk about."

"Stop acting like you don't care."

Rafe's determined attitude was exhausting.

And somehow, despite everything, I still felt myself drawn to him, even after how poorly he's treated me.

"Acting like I don't care is all I have left." My stomach tightened at my honesty.

His cold blue eyes grew distant, clearly not liking my truth.

"You have me."

The conviction in his voice would make anyone believe him, but I wasn't going to fall for his pretty words again, no matter how badly I wished they were true.

"No, I don't. I never did so this entire conversation is pointless." I stated a matter-of-factly. "Do yourself a favor and walk away."

Clicking his tongue, Rafe shook his head at me. "There you go again, telling me what I can and cannot do."

I had to hurt him to just get the distance I needed. He'd leave me alone if I hurt him.

"What are you gonna do? Tell your dad on me?" The minute the words flew out of my mouth, I regretted them.

Artic eyes narrowed into slits and his entire demeanor shifted, his shoulders tense and face hard. "Don't talk about him."

"Got daddy issues, do you?" My mouth would not stop.

I could see that I was successfully hitting my target, but it only made my heart ache. It needed to be done though.

Rafe's expression shut off, a familiar cold look settling in his eyes. "Tread fucking lightly."

My heart thudded dangerously as I debated my next words. "I might not hate you today or tomorrow, but I will hate you. Because, hating you is better than loving you."

The words tasted like vinegar coming out of my mouth, but they had their desired effect.

Agony briefly flickers on his face, but he schooled his expression. His eyes seemed to bore through me, our stare off so intense, that I had to look away.

If I believed he could change, even if there was a slight chance, then I would have fought for us. But, I knew him like the back of my hand and Rafe was who he was—unapologetically. I didn't have any fight left.

"I know what you're doing." His voice trembled, dark and on the verge of breaking.

I closed my eyes in defeat. Of course he did. I couldn't even hurt him without him seeing straight through me.

"You want to make me the bad guy? Fine. I'm the bad guy, bad Rafe Cameron. But don't pretend for one second that I'm not under your skin just as bad."

"You are, you are and it's exhausting," I grimaced. "Does knowing that make you feel better?"

"Yes, it does because I'm not the only one feeling like this."

My throat clogged. "How much longer can we keep doing this?"

"As long as it takes for you to give in." Rafe stroked a strand of hair behind my ear, the clouds of his eyes gleaming with twisted adortion.

Frustration bubbled up the surface. He was relentless in his pursuit, not caring if he hurt me in the process. As long as I was his, nothing else matterd, even my pain.

"This isn't a game. I am not a game." I stated harshly, shoving his hand away. "I'm a person--a person who has feelings."

His expression reamined unreadable. "A person with feelings for me."

I was losing. Badly. Talking to Rafe was like talking to a brick wall.

"I've had to put myself together three times, Rafe. Three times!" I screamed, my voice cracking in despair. "Each time harder than the last."

"I finally glued myself together again and you're already pulling away the pieces. For how long am I yours this time? A week?" I pushed. "A month?"

"You've moved on before so do it again. Let me do the same." I cleared my throat to push back tears.

"You think I haven't tried?" He asked incrediously, throwing his hands up in the air in utter disbelief.

Rafe stalked over to me, his eyes brewing with anger as he pointed to the veins in his arms. "You're in so deep, I can't get you out of my system."

I knew the feeling all too well. I am not going to cry.

"'You're right here. Right fucking here and you won't go away." He reached for my hand and placed it directly on his heart which pounded wildy under my touch.

My resolve was breaking and my previous anger easing away like a silent wave. He didn't have any peace either.

The heavy weight on my chest had me leaning forward, resting my forehead against his pec, my hand still in his grasp, pressed tightly against his heart.

"Loving you almost ruined my life." Rafe was a cliff. One that I threw myself over again and again, expecting to fly only to be met with cold hard concrete.

"Again with the meladrama?" Spell broken once more. Another peice being peeled away from me.

A joke, this was all a joke to him.

"You're not listening to me. You never listen to me." I shouted directly into his face, pointing to myself, needing him to finally fucking see me.

Tears finally fell from my eyes as I stared at him with pathetic hoplessness.

"How is what I did any worse than what you did?" The world stopped spinning as his words hit my chest. Something inside me broke.

I shook my head in utter diesbelief at his words. I pushed to my feet, my hands collided with his chest as I shoved him with all my strength.

I headed straight towards the bedroom door, slamming my fists against the door in an attempt to get the guards attention. I was slowly suffocating in this room. He always managed to do this to me.

I should've known better. I mean really known better. Rafe was a mindfuck.

"Run away one more time and I swear to god-" Rafe advaced toward me, his hands reaching out for me.

No, he needed to keep his hands to himself.

"Don't talk to me." I spat, holding my hand up. Facing the door once again, I pound several more times with no response before accepting defeat.

Slumping against the door with my forehead resting against the cool wood, I pleaded, "I can't be in here any more. I just can't."

Once again, no answer.

"We're talking about this. You don't get to avoid this conversation anymore."

"Want to try that again-stop!" Rafe bent down and tossed my body over his shoulder. Anger burned through my veins as I struggled against his grip, but it did nothing to deeter him as he stalked us over to the bed.

Dropping my body roughly on the bed, he towered over me and met my gaze, warning clear in his eyes.

Swallowing my pride, I dug my nails into the soft flesh of my palms. "You can't compare our actions. They aren't even on the same playing field, Rafe,"

"I can and I am comparing them, because believe it or not baby, it's the same damn thing."

Rafe was standing directly in front of me, his large thighs caging my dainty figure in. My chest heaved up and down in anger.

"Is that what you tell yourself so you don't have to deal with the fact that you're a shitty person? I'm not listening to this." My gaze was frantic as I tried to figure out an escape plan.

"I've clearly been too nice. You don't have a fucking choice. "

"Rafe, stop it."

"No, you stop it. Why are you acting like you expected me to be a nice guy? I'm not and never will be. So, you're going to sit here and listen to what I have to say." He tone harsh and unnegotiable, grasping my chin in between his fingers.

I glared, meeting his harshness with mine. Fingers threaded into my hair as he forced my head back to stare at him.

"You knew exactly who I was when you met me. You saw the good, bad, and the ugly and still chose to fucking love me," He snarled, his hand slammed against his chest, "to love me."

Oh god. Was he right? He was.

"Then you leave me for being who you fell in love with?" Rafe's body was shaking as he jerked my head back towards his face when I tried to look away. "Knowing who I am and loving me anyway, just for you to walk away. Am I that easy to walk away from? "

His gaze was expectant but he already knew the answer. No, he wasn't easy to walk away from. It almost killed me each and every time.

"No." I answered, my voice so low it came out as a whisper.

"How is that any more cruel than what I did to you?" I couldn't answer becuase he was right. My heart bled at this point as I tried to scramble some coherent thought. I wanted to say something, anything to counter his statements but fell short.

A sob caught the back of my throat.

"So get the fuck off your high horse. I beat up Pope on figure 8 and guess who kept my bed warm after that?" He mused, his fingers brushing against my knees forcing them open more. "I shot and killed Sheriff Peterkin and you consoled me."

I gulped for air but it seemed like nothing was reaching my lungs. He was right. We were so inextricably linked that his darkness became my own. It was so easy for me to excuse all of his horrible actions simply because I love him.

The laugh he let out sent shivers down my spine. "Fuck, I almost drowned Sarah and you still opened your legs for me. Still loved me, didn't you?"

Horror filled every cell in body. I curled my arms into myself as pain slashed through my heart while my hands and arms shook.

"So which one of us is really fucked up?" Me. Him. Both.

Rafe pulled his lip into his mouth as he regarded me with dark eyes. Leaning over me, he brought his mouth to my ear, the ghost of his breath causing shivers to wrack down my spine. "The answer is between your legs."

I stopped breathing. Wetness seeped onto the silk bottoms leaving an obvious stain on my pants. I tried to close my legs, but Rafe let out a little tisk.

I thought I had a chance to save myself before I got stuck in the trecherous storm that was Rafe Cameron. I was doomed the moment I met him.

He smiled at me almost as though he knew I reached the same conclusion as he did.

Rafe lowered to his knees, resting directly in between mine, with his hands raised up. I stare down at him with broken eyes, my handsome monster kneeling on the ground for only me.

When he saw I made no point to move, his large calloused hand covered my shaking ones while the other softly grazed the damn spot in between my legs causing me to visibly tremble.

"Do you get it now? There is no after for us. There is and always will be an us." The words were spoken softly, but firm. Though his eyes weren't on me, and in stead were in between my lefs. His hold on my hands being the only thing anchoring me.

I did. I hated that I loved him. I hated how he'd never leave. I especially hated how I couldn't leave. I hated my body's gross reaction to him and his filthy words.

"I love you."

My head jerked up, eyes wide with surprise at his confession.

"I do. That's why I wear the necklace and the cufflinks." He answered my question. He finally answered my question.

Before I could respond, a soldier bursted into the room with narrowed eyes. He took in the scene before him before relaxing but my body was snapped with tension.

Rafe looked down at our hands before standing up slowly and letting go. "Trust me."

He was asking in the only way he knew how, by demanding. He'd broken so many promises before that the trust between us was in shards. I found myself nodding anyways.

I'd already been broken before, what was once more?

In seconds, Rafe lunged toward the solider with his hands fisting along the shoulders of the man's bulletproof vest. Slamming his body hard to the ground, Rafe climbed on top before lifting the man's body and slamming it against the floor again and again.

He dragged his fist back before slashing it with quick and brute force against the soldier's face. Blood splattered against the white tiled floors as the man groaned in pain.

Rafe didn't stop. His knuckles becoming a marred mess due to them being split open. He didn't even wince.

"Get the gun." A loud ringing noise echoed in my ears as I stared at the unconcious man on the floor who's face was unrecognizable.

"Baby, get the gun." The term of endearment pulled my out of my head. Rafe's electric eyes stared at me with urgency and darted to the side.

I moved my head in the direction of his stare and see a black gun several feet away. My brain shut off and body felt numb as I picked it up with trembling hands.

My steps were timid and hestitant as I walked back over to him. He held out his hand, the rings shining in the light. "Bring it here."

For a second, a brief second, the thought of shooting him crossed my mind. I could be free of him. I could do it.

No, I couldn't. I loved him. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

I rested the heavy pistol in his hand and watched as he dug through the man's pocket and grabbed a phone. "We're getting out of here. I have my boat parked somewhere here on the island. We get to it and we can go wherever you want. Just me and you."

Rafe stood and stepped towards me, determination in his eyes, with his hand held out for me to grab.

I took a sharp intake of breath. My blood rushed loudly in my ears as I decided what I was about to do. My friends, my life, were they worth losing for him?

His necklace sparkling against the sun and those cuflinks shining against his shirt caught my attention.

Our souls were wired together, infused. I was a monster. Just like him.

Loving Rafe was a death sentence. Little did I know—I was already dead.

I reached for his hand.

_________________

Psycho toxic rafe is the man of my dreams but also my nightmares :) They are both crazy though clearly and need help.

Let me know what you think! Next up is Conrad fucking Fisher and I assure you, your heart will be broken.

Tag list: @narcissuspetal @valeriedelevingne @harrys-humble-housewife @mrs-dasilvasantoss @yoonki-bored @maybankslover @blazebreaker @thepopcultureaddict @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @imawhoreforu @jj-pls-give-me-a-chance @summer-may

[cerastes]

can i get other examples of gamepress being wrong about arknights? i've been using them as my main source since i started and now i'm worried i'm missing out on some operators i haven't bothered to upgrade 🙃

We could be here literally all day because it's not like they have one or two outliers, Gamepress is just mainly edited by people that live in an echo chamber and that have authority in their own circle so it's just off-the-hip, all too often wrong biased takes based on their own really reductive metrics. Chiefly, Gamepress ranks characters 1) as if they were the sole unit in the battlefield almost exclusively, and 2) using the single most broken units currently live as the barrier of entry. The unit you are looking up can't clear a chunk of map in one tap? Worthless and sub-optimal, according to Gamepress. Their only metric is Mlynar, Ch'ung the Hung, Surtr, that kind of Press To Win philosophy, and if a unit can't do that, Then It's Bad And Not Worth It.

Now, you may be thinking, "goodness me, Dreamer, you are being awfully harsh to call them complete dogshit at every angle of the game in this manner!", well, see, it's not just their Operator "reviews", they have articles sometimes. And they are god awful dogshit as well, such as "What Happened To Blaze?"

You can't see the comments anymore, but the author was getting reamed. I have one screenie at least:

Comments were mainly of this nature. Because, well, the article is straight up awful, especially since it reduces Blaze to "laneholder" and compares her to "competition" like Thorns, Mudrock, and Mountain, who, yes, they all can hold a lane, but Blaze has her own space of "infinite duration, high statline, healable 3-block with 2 tile range" that has historically allowed for Funny Tricks like clearing enemies through "walls" on tiles that could shred Thorns even with a healer, or, you know, in conjunction with any of Mudrock or Mountain, given you have 12 whole slots for you team. Again, Gamepress editors rate characters as if they were your main in a fighting game and not one of 12+1 characters you can throw in at any time. They also tend to shit on non-specialist characters (generalists; more versatile units that can do a bunch of things without really breaking the game in any regard), which is very interesting because those usually will make up a strong backbone of any competent Integrated Strategies team, so the specialists in role can do their thing while the other needs of the map are being met.

"Ebenholz is nothing special." "Goldenglow is nothing special." These are takes they genuinely held until, you know, it turned out that Eben and GG are the most relevant Casters, up there with Eyja. To be fair, it wasn't just them being wrong on Eben, but how do you look at the global blasting of GG with her numbers and don't immediately realize that's an ICBM button? All it takes is having the game installed.

The biased nature of Gamepress is also blatant:

Imagine rating April as "Really Good" while relegating Dorothy as only "Really Fun". Even before her Module3, Dorothy was absolutely devastating, bringing huge damage multipliers, crowd control, one of the single best class autoattacks in the whole game at 6* stat weight, and a Talent that gives her even more Attack for basically using her as intended. I'm not saying April isn't good, mind you, I'm just trying to highlight how biased the hands behind Gamepress are: They can't figure out Trapmasters? Then surely they are merely "really fun". Can't drop and forget them like April or Surtr, after all.

About the only thing Gamepress is good for is objective, in-game info: Dates, mat requirements, what skills do, that kind of stuff. It's got a good interface and is a good place to just quickly look up what you need to know that can otherwise be found in the game. The moment their personal opinions come into play, though? The most absolute dogshit takes. Unless you are a "unga bunga drop Surtr and Mlynar and win instan-- WAIT WHY IS INTEGRATED STRATEGIES AND RISK 23+ KICKING MY DAY 1 PLAYER ASS...!?" kinda player, then you don't really want to follow Gamepress advice.

Because they simply do not give good advice as a whole.

[rockethorse]

Calcinidae Bay Lot Tour: Marine Discovery Centre

I finally got around to picking the terrains I wanted to use for Calcinidae Bay's subhoods, so the Bay now officially has a(n as-of-yet unnamed) Downtown! Yay! Let's take a look through the only currently-finished lot there, the Marine Discovery Centre and Aquarium.

First I wanna shout out @dirtfauna for suggesting I build an aquarium and getting me thinking about this in the first place! As I was putting on the finishing touches I was also inspired by seeing @lolabythebaysims's gorgeous lot influenced by the Belle Isle Aquarium.

Before I get into the lot, I need to show the original Sims 4 shell for reference. It's "what the.. shell?" uploaded to the Gallery by simbellaz, and as you'll see, it was both perfect for and wildly impractical as the basis for an aquarium.

I don't normally go for shell challenges that have so many internal walls, but all those little 1-tile-wide hallways were practically SCREAMING to be made into fish tanks! The external "walls" you see added to my TS2 shell are all either actually half-walls, fences, or just windows placed with moveobjects, all of which are allowed within a standard shell challenge. It may seem like a cop-out, but it's more limiting/challenging than you'd think.

But enough preamble. Let's take a look inside!

The entrance is also a small gift shop. It seems like every aquarium I've ever been to has also sold jewellery. Don't ask me about my tiny penguin earrings.

I really wanted a "fish tank tunnel" vibe, and the effect was... almost perfect, lol. Close enough for a shell challenge IMO. I so so badly wanted to break my CC-free rule to place some fish shaders, but I'm glad I stuck to my guns because I think the solution I came up with looks goofy but effective. (Plus you wouldn't see them in build/buy anyway.)

Ooohhhh jellyfish tank ooohhhhhh they're so lifelike and graceful

I have my fun.

That little "airlock" room is a fun pirate-y undersea exhibit that connects to the outside and is probably where school field trips would loop around rather than heading upstairs.

Through the pirate's cabin is a touch pool and tactile play room where kids can inspect rubber anatomical fish models. I like to imagine the TV plays a short looping movie featuring a B-grade celebrity talking to a cartoon bass about the water cycle, fish spawn, and pollution.

The outdoor area is where the field trip groups would probably eat their packed lunches, fill out activity sheets, and take a commemorative photo with the world's worst greenscreen that's supposed to make it look like you're underwater but just ends up eating half your hair and shirt.

If you're not a student and you're just here for the love of fish, you'd probably head upstairs to get a closer look at the fish tunnel, smaller specialty tanks, and the squid/octopus models. (This room is technically considered outdoors thanks to the shell so tbh I'm not sure how lighting/temperature would behave during gameplay.)

The third floor has more tanks, some hands-on displays about aquatic plants and marine ecology, and finally a room with the actual floor-to-ceiling aquarium objects.

I thought this would be an interesting lot to run as an owned business, so I included a small employee area tucked behind the guest toilet block on the ground floor. It also helped to naturalistically answer "how would Sims feed themselves if their outing wouldn't stop complaining they were hungry," a concern I keep in mind whenever I make a lot I think would be a nice place to take a date.

And here's the floorplan! This lot had a pretty severe ugly stage but I'm really really happy with what we ended up with and the vibe I achieved without any CC. Hope you enjoyed reading this far and that it could give you some decorating inspiration!

[spindle-and-nima]

What would you say are the essentials of a bunny enclosure? I'm trying to get ready to make one for my new apartment

Hello friend!

First and extremely importantly you need space. I strongly encourage a minimum pen size of roughly 3x5 (vet and shelter told me to make sure my pens were no smaller than that size for my rabbits but a bit bigger is good). If your rabbit is not free roam, you can certainly make it bigger (my pen is a 6x6 my rabbits are semi free roam). I use a tall dog playpen to build mine so that or a Z pen will make for easy building. You can get creative with how you block out an area but space is incredibly important.

As for what goes in it:

-litter box of course but what's important is size. Do not get a tiny corner triangle box it's unhealthy for their posture. Opt for a cat litter box that's big enough for your rabbits to sit comfortably in and turn around easily in.

-hay tower or rack. You can either hang a rack (you can literally get a metal rack basket for cheap from Lowe's or home Depot and just stuff hay in it) or a wood tower like what I have. Bunnies must have Timothy Hay available 24/7 in unlimited quantities so this is the way to ensure that. It keeps the hay from getting soiled though I do always add additional hay to the litter box. Keep the hay near the litter box to kinda just keep em poopin in the litter when they want a snack

-hides. You need at least 1 hide per rabbit. I have 4 hides for mine. I like the cute wooden Castle hides bc they are roomy and my bunnies like them a lot but really you can get creative with it. Just absolutely no igloos those are not good for rabbits or their postures (vet and shelter advice). You can do tunnels or cardboard boxes but yea hides are a necessity for rabbits.

-flooring. There's a lot of things you can do for flooring but you definitely want something to prevent your rabbits from soiling your carpet and most rabbits dislike smooth tile or hardwood (slippery on non padded feet). A few things I've seen people do are use pee pads and lay fleece, blankets, towels, or rugs on top which are good options. If you're like me and busy and want easy cleaning and a cute aesthetic, you can use EVA carpeted foam mats. They absorb well without letting urine leak through.

I would NOT advise EVA foam if your rabbits really chew and actually eat everything. while I find these dont give bunnies much leverage for biting, especially destructive ones will find a way and you don't want them eating these. My bungies are luckily not interested in chewing them so they work well. A handful of guest rabbits I've housed did well with them too. Even my more destructive guests didn't manage to bite through it well but I need to put that disclaimer because I'm kind of lucky with my rabbits behaviour.

They look like this and come in many colors:

Pretty good and I like them because they are easy cleanup (wash by hand but you can just pop the soiled square out and replace it with a spare so the pen is immediately freshened up. And you can clean the soiled ones immediately or if you're busy just set it aside to wash when you got the time.) these are not essential ofc you can just use the ol fleece or towel or rug thing. Since you are renting i would really reccomend putting puppy pee pads under whatever you choose to protect the flooring.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Very different church conversion was done on this 1876 church in Ulster Park, New York. 4bds, 4ba, $2M.

As soon as you enter, you can tell that it will be different. I've never seen a church decorated in navy and black with antique farm implements.

Stairs lead up to a blue foyer with a terrazzo floor and a fancy carved door molding.

The foyer leads into a combination living room/kitchen. The living room has a new fireplace and it's a small cozy area.

There's a kitchen island and the modern kitchen itself extends farther back.

There's also a side entrance into the kitchen via a small stoop.

From this level is are ladder/stairs made from 2 old beams. The railing is a simple rope.

This leads up to a large open area with such dark walls that I thought they were charred, but it's just dark.

The stone walls are the same that we saw on the exterior. There's a dining area with an elaborate chandelier.

There is also a sitting area, a chopping block and a large round indoor firepit with an exhaust hood.

Looking down on the area, you can see sliding doors to a deck.

The deck is a large size and has 2 storage areas for logs that are used for the firepit.

Back indoors, stairs go up to a lofted bedroom.

This is the only bedroom that is open.

Bathroom #1 is small and done in classic white subway tiles.

The 2nd bedroom is larger and is the primary.

This bath has stone walls and a cool slanted slate sink.

The smallest bedroom works well as a child's room or guest space.

The largest bath has a stone sink, modern toilet & bidet, plus a shower and a vintage claw foot tub.

The 4th bedroom is a nice size.

Here, they built a platform that is used as a home office, and above is a loft stacked with lots of wood for the firepit.

There's another level that looks like a flex-space and it also has an industrial sink.

Two steps up is another area. I really don't know what you'd do with all these various areas.

This is the tower that is in front of the building and there's more firewood stored up here.

Spiral stairs go up the the uppermost part of the tower.

And, this is the view.

There's a .50 acre of property.

[twohearts-hs]

Defying The Odds: 4 - Michael Scofield x Reader Series

Words in Total: 6.1k

Pairings: Michael Scofield x Reader: afab x reader

Synopsis: Y/N was a victim of the mob since the age of fifteen, however, falling in love with the wrong guy and having an argument got her 25 years in prison for murder. She had a plan to get out in faith of her husband until she met Michael Scofield, who, despite his plan, fell in love with her. Now she has the mob and Michael Scofield's escape to worry about.

Warnings: Swearing, Prison, Intimacy, Murder, etc. you know the deal...

A/N: this is a complete series of ~105k words. Based on Season 1 & 2.

Hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

Michael had his hand on Y/N’s lower back as she went back to her cell to gather her items. Cheap soap, shampoo and conditioner and she turned to see him looking at her with those steady, calm eyes.

            “It’s just going to be us?” she whispered.

            “Yes, I don’t want you showering with a bunch of naked men. I don’t trust them.”

            Y/N nodded and followed him while he took her hand. The showers in Fox River were as grim as the rest of the prison – rusted metal, broken tiles, and flickering lights that made the space feel even more suffocating. It was one of the few places where privacy did not exist, and every inmate knew that stepping into the showers alone could mean trouble. But after the events of the riot, Y/N needed a moment to herself, even if it was just under the scalding water.

            She walked down the corridor with Michael behind her, a towel draped over her shoulder, her nerves on edge after the past few days. She could still feel the bruises on her neck and stitches on her arm pulled with each movement, but none of it compared to the lingering feeling of fear that settled deep in her chest. The riot had shaken her more than she cared to admit, and even now, every shadow felt like a threat.

            He walked next to her, his usual quiet, composed demeanour unchanged but there was something different in the way he moved, more protective. They had not really spoken since the vents, since the kiss. But now, as they neared the entrance to the shower block, Michael stepped ahead of her, his eyes scanning the area like he was assessing every possible danger.

            “I’ll clear it out,” he said, his voice low but firm.

            Y/N watched as he walked in first, his presence alone sending the few stragglers scattering, not wanting to cross Michael Scofield. Within minutes, the place was empty, and the only sound left was the drips of water echoing off the tiles.

            “It’ll all yours,” he said, stepping back toward the door, but not leaving completely. He stayed there, leaning against the wall, his eyes soft as they met hers. “I won’t look. I promise.”

            Y/N gave him a small nod of thanks before stepping inside. The heat from the water greeted her like a strange, temporary comfort, and for a moment she closed her eyes, letting the sensation wash over her. She undressed and placed her belongings to the side before looking over to see Michael looking at her.

            “I can’t see anything, you’re behind a wall,” he told her.

            Y/N wrapped a towel around her before walking over to the showers. Turning it on, she waited till it was scalding before dropping her towel. She stepped under the stream, the water cascading over her bare skin, rinsing away the grime, the sweat and some of the fear that clung to her.

            Michael was not heard, but when she turned around, he was not there anymore. However, she thought she was alone for a moment, but as the water poured over her, she caught of movement in the corner of her eye. Turning her head slightly, she saw him.

            Michael was still there, standing off to the side, not too close but not far either. His eyes, though not focused on her directly, flickered with something – something more than just protectiveness. He watched her, his gaze intense but respectful, like he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to. He could not see anything – only her shoulders up – but the moment felt charged, heavy with unspoken words.

            She turned her head back, staring at the cracked tile in front of her, her heart pounding in her chest. The memory of the kiss in the vents still burned in her mind, and she couldn’t help but wonder if it had been a one-time thing, or it there was something more to it.

            Then she heard movement.

            Y/N did not have to look to know that Michael had stepped into the stall next to hers. She could feel his presence, just on the other side of the low wall that separated them. Her breath caught her throat, and she slowly turned her head, her eyes meeting his over the divider.

            Water dripped down his face, his hair wet and his tattoos glistened. She saw pieces of it and admired it. They simply just stared at one another. Neither of them spoke, but the air between them was thick with tension with the weight of what was not being said.

            Finally, Y/N broke the silence.

            “The kiss,” she said softly, her voice barely louder than the sound of the water. “What was that, Michael?”

            He did not look away, his blue eyes locked on hers. “I needed to protect you,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. “I needed to make sure you were ok. And I–“ he hesitated like he was not sure how much to say. “I care about you, Y/N. I don’t know why or how, but I do.”                 

            Her heart skipped a beat at his words, and she found herself unable to look away from him. There was something so raw, so honest in his voice that it made her chest tighten.

            “And what about now?” she asked, her voice barely a whispered, though she already knew the answer.

            Michael did not say anything for a moment. Instead, he reached up, his hand resting on the edge of the divider between them. He leaned in slightly, closing the distance just enough so that their faces were only inches apart.

            “If you let me in,” he said quietly, his voice almost trembling with the weight of his words, “I’ll stay.”

            The invitation hung in the air between them, and for a moment, Y/N hesitated. This was dangerous. Everything about this was dangerous. But as she looked into those eyes, the world around them seemed to disappear, and all that was left was the steady rhythm of the water and the rapid beating of her own heart.

            Without another word, she stepped back slightly, the water running over her bare skin, her eyes never leaving his. The invitation was clear.

            Michael did not hesitate. He stepped into the stall with her, the warm water soaking him instantly, and before she could say anything else, his hands were on her waist, pulling her closer.

            “Hi,” she whispered.

            He smiled, cupping her cheek and pushing her hair back. He was much taller than her and as he leaned down, he pressed a quick, but delicate kiss to her lips. “Hello,” he mused back.

            She rolled her head back to let the water cascade down her hair and Michael tangled his fingers through her long locks. Y/N eyes were closed, and his hand held her waist, pulling her against his body.

            Opening her eyes, she was faced with his blue eyes as his fingers dragged up and down her hips and waist.

            “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

            “You haven’t even looked at my body,” she responded. “You have just kept your eyes on me.”

            “I don’t need to,” he whispered back with a smile. “I think you’re gorgeous no matter what.”

            “Look down then,” she whispered.

            Michael looked down, seeing her body. The way her breasts hung proud and plump, ready to be held while her hips were the perfect width for him and her thighs…he could imagine gripping onto them. However, as his eyes moved from hers to her body, down her chest, her breasts, naval to her core, she took her hand and cupped his cheek, pulling him down for a kiss.

            Their lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss, the heat from the water mixing with the heat between them. His hands slid up her back, gentle but firm, and she melted into him, all the fear and uncertainty of the past few days washing away at that moment.

            “Your tattoo,” she whispered, pulling away and glancing down to his chest, lowering her eyes to his manhood before going back to his eyes. “It’s not just a tattoo, is it?” she responded. “You’re incredibly meticulous and your brain makes me think you’re a prodigy therefore, there is deeper meaning.”

            His hands drew circles against her stomach.

            “Everything is a plan.”

            She glanced at his chest again, seeing the designs, before whispering, “It’s a map.” Michael did not know what to say, rather instead he just looked in her eyes. “I was taught to always be twenty steps ahead of a plan. That was a skill needed for my line of work. You’re similar. Calculating, entangled, empathetic, conscientious,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw as her fingers dragged up his skin. A shiver went through him.

            “You’re skilled in seduction,” he responded taking her hand from his stomach and pulling away. “Is this an act?” he whispered.

            “Why would it be act? You have nothing I need-“

            “I can get you out of here,” he responded.

            “I don’t need that. I am joining because I care about you.”

            “Because I will be giving you a life outside of the mob,” he stated. “You seduced people for your husband,” he whispered, “didn’t you? Led them to their death.”

            “I was in survival mode,” she responded. “I was roped into crime at fifteen where I did drug runs for Sebastian. He groomed me at sixteen to marry him at twenty-one and now I am thirty and he sent me to prison because he cared about the mob more than his wife. I have been used, abused, degraded and thrown away for most of my life, Michael. Sure, I have seduced men, but I am telling you know you have nothing I need and I am simply acting out of my heart and desire because I like you.”

            Michael nodded, looking into Y/N’s eyes, feeling the weight of her words and the pain that lingered behind them. The steam swirled around them, the water still cascading down their bodies, but the intensity between them had shifted. It was not just about desire anymore; it was about something deeper, something raw that connected them beyond the physical.

            “I’m sorry,” Michael whispered, his voice laced with regret as he reached up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing against her wet skin. “You’ve been through so much.”

            Y/N leaned into his touch, closing her eyes briefly, letting herself be vulnerable, of only for a moment. “It’s not your fault,” she said softly. “I just want you to understand…I don’t need saving. I’ve spent my whole life trying to survive, and I don’t need another man thinking he had to fix me.”

            Michael’s hand remained on her cheek as he nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. “I don’t want to fix you,” he said, voice steady. “I just want to be there for you. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you before, Y/N. You’re strong, and you’ve been through hell. But I see you, and I want you to know that you’re not alone.”

            She blinked up at him, her heart pounding in her chest. For so long, she’d been alone, navigating the dark world of crime and manipulation, always having to rely on herself. But here, standing with Michael, there was something different. It was not about lust or survival – it was about trust something she hadn’t experienced in a long time.

            “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

            Michael leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and she closed her eyes again, letting the warmth of his presence soothe her.

            As the kiss lingered, Y/N’s thoughts drifted back to his tattoos, the map that was etched into his skin, and the intricate plan he was weaving. “You’re really going to do it, aren’t you?” she murmured, pulling back just enough to look at him again. “You’re going to break out of here.”

            Michael’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. “Yes,” he admitted. “Yes, I am.”

            “And you want me to come with you?”

            “I do,” he replied. “I want you to have a life outside this place, Y/N. Away from everything – the mob, the crime, all of it. You deserve better. You didn’t kill those men.”

            She let out a soft, almost bitter laugh. “Better? I don’t even know what better looks like anymore, Michael. I don’t know how to live a normal life.”

He shook his head. “Then we’ll figure it out together,” he said, his voice full of determination. “Have a little faith. I’m not asking for promises, or for you to trust me completely. But I’m asking you to take a chance. On me. On yourself.”

Y/N stared at him; her chest tight as she weighed his words. It was tempting – everything he was offering. But she was scared. Scared of what it meant to care about someone again, scared of would happen if they failed.

“I don’t know if I can,” she whispered.

Michael’s hand slide down her arm, his fingers interlacing with hers. “You don’t have to decide now. Just think about it. I’m not going anywhere.”

There she felt something…hope. Just a little.

“Ok,” she said softly. “I’ll think about it.”

Michael’s eye softened, and he nodded. “That’s all I ask.”

They stood there for a moment longer, the water running over their bodies. Michael washed her hair for her, and they cleaned one another with a cloth as they kissed. For now, it was just the two of them, tangled together in the complicated web of emotions, and Y/N realised that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t alone as she thought.

-

They left the shower, clean but also assured they had one another. Michael’s touch was small but it was there, hand on her lower back barely touching as they made their way to their cell.

            “Scofield,” a CO came over to him as they stopped in front of his cell. “You have a visitor.”

            “Who?” he asked. Y/N glanced over as she knew his only family was his brother and he was in the same prison. Could it be a lawyer?

            “It’s your wife and she is in the conjugal room,” he said and instantly, Y/N’s heart dropped. She glanced over Michael who went into his cell before coming out to see her face, disappointed and confused. They just scared a intimate moment and he has a wife.

            “Go find Sucre,” he told her, squeezing her hand but she pulled away. “Please.”

-

Y/N sat on a bench in the prison yard, a soft breeze tugging at the pages of the book resting in her lap. It was a copy of Pride and Prejudice, one of her favourites, a source of comfort in the chaos of prison life. She’d read it a dozen times before, but each time, it brought her the same sense of warmth and familiarity.

            Literature was so much of her life. Since she could remember, she would read to escape and now that she can’t escape, she reads.

            “Hey, little lady,” Sucre’s voice interrupted her thoughts as he approached and sat beside her. It was a chiller day, making them dress a little heavier, but that was April for you. Y/N glanced up from her book, closed it with a quiet sigh and placed it beside her. Sucre gave her a warm, concerned look. “How are you holding up?”

            Y/N shrugged, feigning indifference, though her heart still felt heavy. “Did you know that our favourite boy genius has a wife?” she said abruptly, her voice carrying an edge of bitterness that even she had not expected.

            Sucre blinked, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Wait…you mean Michael?” His confusion deepened, his eyes searching hers. “Scofield’s got a wife?”

            Y/N gave a short, humourless laugh. “Yeah. Isn’t that something?”

            Sucre’s brow furrowed deeper as he studied her. “Don’t you have a husband?”

            “By law,” she muttered. “But any romance between us is long dead. That part of my life is over. Just want the damn divorce.”

            Sucre made a sympathetic sound, shaking his head. “Love’s complicated, mami. It’s hard, but when it’s real, it’s worth all the struggles.”

            Y/N chuckled, though it was laced with sadness. She took Sucre’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, grateful for his kindness. “What’s her name?” she asked softy.

            “Maricruz,” Sucre said, his face lit up with affection as he spoke her name. “She’s my fiancée.”

            A small, genuine smile pulled at Y/N’s lips as she saw the way Sucre’s eyes gleamed with love. “I wish nothing but happiness in your future, Sucre,” she said sincerely, turning her gaze back to the yard though the weight of her chest hadn’t eased.

            Sucre shifted beside her, his expression turning more serious. “What did he do?” he asked after a few moments of silence, his voice gentle but probing.

            “My husband or Michael?”

            “Both?”

            Y/N stared straight ahead, not daring to meet his eyes. The sting of Michael’s betrayal was fresh, but her husband’s hurt her to the core. “Betrayal I would say,” she said quietly, her voice thick with emotion. “Men are good at that, aren’t they?”

            Sucre pressed his lips together, nodding slowly as he considered her words. “I get it. I really do. But Scofield…he’s different.”

            Y/N let out a bitter laugh, but there was tremor in her voice, betraying the hurt she was trying so hard to suppress. “Different? I don’t know about that.”

            Sucre leaned against the bench, watching her carefully. “What’s going on between the two of you?” he asked, his tone gentle but the question was loaded.

            Y/N shook her head, a hollow chuckle escaping her lips. “Nothing,” she muttered, brushing her hand through her long hair. “I thought I did…I thought we shared something. But, finding out he’s married? It’s like I don’t even know who he is? Every day, he surprises me a little more.”

            Sucre was silent for a moment, clearly trying to choose his words carefully. “Michael…he’s got a lot going on in that head of his. You know that. There’s always a plan.”

            There’s always a plan…it registered with her. Then it hit her…there was always a plan. Was she a plan? What did Michael want with her? Y/N was so used to playing men, that she should know the signs when they are playing with her.

            It dawned on her then…he needed something from her.

            “I got to go,” she whispered, getting up and grabbing her book.

            “Go where?” Sucre asked, watching as she stood up.

            “I just need to go figure something out,” she whispered, climbing down the bleachers, but Sucre grabbed her arm.

            “Just talk to Michael and he will be honest,” he told her. “He is about the truth.”

            She shook her head. “No, he will bend the truth to get what he wants,” she responded walking away.

            Y/N was walking down the yard, when an arm pulled her to the side. Looking up, she spotted Michael wearing a toque and his outdoor clothes. His hand moved from her forearm to her hand where he grabbed it and squeezed it.

            “I only married her so she can get a green card,” he said with honesty.

            Y/N pulled her hand away from him. “Don’t touch me,” she whispered back.

            His eyes faltered slightly, a tinge of hurt in them.

            “Y/N, I am serious. It was an agreement,” he tried, placing his hands in his pocket but Y/N sighed.

            “You went to the conjugal room with her,” she whispered, eyes filled with hurt. “Michael, you saw me naked this morning. You kissed my lips. I touched you. Now, I found out you have a wife.”

            “It’s just business,” he responded, eyes locked with hers. “Just business. Everything has been thought out.”

            Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest as Michael’s words hung in the air. Just business. The weight of his betrayal sank deeper into her, intertwining with every lie she had ever heard. She had known how to spot men playing games, but this? This felt different. This cut deeper because she had let herself believe Michael was genuine.

            “Where do I fit in your plan?” she whispered, voice trembling now, but she held her ground, staring into Michael’s eyes as if searching for the truth that always seemed out of reach.

            Michael’s expression softened, his eyes filled with something between guilt and frustration. “You’re not part of the plan. Not originally,” he said quietly, stepping closer but not daring to touch her again. “I didn’t expect you. None of this was supposed to happen. Not with you.”

            “But it did,” Y/N snapped, the emotions she’d been holding back breaking free. “It happened, Michael. And now what? I’m supposed to just believe that all of this – everything we’ve done, everything we’ve shared – was some accident when you think everything through?”

            His jaw tightened as he watched her, his blue eyes burning with intensity. “No,” he said after a long pause. “I didn’t want to hurt you. That’s not part of this.”

            She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “But you did. You kept something like this from me. A wife, Michael. I trusted you, and I don’t know if I can come back from this.”

            He clenched his fists in his pockets, looking away for a moment before meeting her eyes again. “The marriage…it’s not what you think.. She needed the green card, and I–“

            “–And what? You just decided it was easier to keep that little detail to yourself? Easier to have me think we were…what? Something more?” Y/N’s voice cracked, and she cursed herself for how vulnerable she felt. How exposed.

            Michael stepped even closer now, his presence overwhelming. “You are something more,” he whispered, his voice almost pleading. “You have to believe me. This morning…it meant something to me.”

            Y/N shook her head, the doubt gnawing at her. “But how do I believe you now? How can I believe anything you say?”

            For the first time, Michael’s façade seemed to crack. His lips parted as if he wanted to say more, but he hesitated, struggling to find the words. “I–“

            “–Michael,” she interrupted, her eyes searching his, waiting for some kind of revelation, some truth that could make sense of all the lies. But none came. “I need to know where I stand with you. I can’t just be another part of your plan, your business. You promised me a life outside of mob, but I feel like I am diving into another one.”

            He swallowed hard, his eyes shining with a desperation that she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen before. “You’re not just business,” he said firmly. “Not you.”

            But Y/N was not sure if that was enough. She had heard words like this before, words that sounded sweet but left her shattered in the end.

            “Then show me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her heart thudded painfully in her chest. “Show me that I’m not just part of the plan.”

            For a moment, they stood there, inches apart but feeling like miles. Y/N’s eyes searched his face, looking for something, anything to give her hope. But all she found was uncertainty.

            “I’ll show you,” Michael said softly, his voice low but steady. “I will. I promise”

            Y/N wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that there was still something real between them. But after everything, she was not sure if she could.

            “Promises don’t mean much around here, Michael,” she said quietly, but she took his hand and squeezed it. “But I believe you. Don’t make me regret that.”

            His hand found its way on her lower back as he guided her to the corner where Sucre and Abruzzi were. They settled on the benches, Michael close to her as they began to talk.

            “Y/N is joining us,” Michael announced.

            “A mobster’s wife. What can she bring to the table?” Aburzzi questioned. “Because the minute her husband knows she’s out, he’ll track her down.”

            Y/N chuckled awkwardly. “I can bring money,” she announced looking over at Michael. “And safe havens. I own multiple properties illegally. Private jet.”

            “But Marino will you down like a damn innocent deer,” Abruzzi said. “I’ve done business with him. I know how much he loves his dotting wife.”

            “Well, this dotting wife doesn’t love him anymore. Better keep this under wraps and make sure he does not know.”

            Michael nodded. “Money, that’s good. Where would it be?”

            Y/N smirked. “Why would I tell you now?”

            Michael chuckled. “Fair. Now, think of this place like it’s a map of the US. Our cell over there, that’s New York City. The infirmary, our exit, that’s California. The pipes beneath our feet that connect the two–“ Michael began.

            “–Route 66,” Sucre finished.

            “Route 66,” Michael affirmed, “our ticket out of here.”

            “I assume we’re doing this at night,” Abruzzi said. “We’re locked up, Fish. And your boy is in solitary.” Michael glanced over to Lincoln who was in his segregated yard before glancing at Y/N and looking over the men in front of him. “How we just gonna fly out of our cages and right into your cell, right into New York City?”

            “You’re not. You’re gonna meet me halfway, in St. Louis. Route 66 runs directly beneath that building. It’s the only building sitting on top of those tunnels. All we gotta do is get there, on PI, and dig ourselves an on-ramp. Shortly after, we hit the infirmary. Then we’ll be outside those walls,” Michael said.

            “What’s in there?” Y/N spoke up, wrapping her arms around her to keep her warmer.

            “It’s an old storage room. I figure John here can pull all the strings he needs,” Michael expressed.

            Abruzzi frowned. “It’s not that easy, Fish. That’s restricted area. I gotta be able to justify it to the bulls, you know, there’s gotta be some actual work to be done in there for me to get in there, you follow?”

            “Then you’d better figure it out. ‘Cause if we don’t get in that room, we’re not getting out of here,” Michael told him.

            All of a sudden, T-Bag showed up, strutting over slowly with a taunting look across his face. Y/N glanced at Michael giving him a look but he simply kept his calm.

            “I’m feeling kind of left out. New York, California, St. Louis. What are we discussing?” T-Bag said as he sauntered over.

            “We’re talking baseball, actually,” Michael cleared up.

            “Huh. Well that’s a subject I just happen to know quite a bit about,” T-Bag said.

            “What a shame. The conversation’s over,” Abruzzi finalised, smirking.

            They started to disperse and Y/N followed behind them while T-Bag continued to complain. However, Y/N stayed by Michael and walked with him.

            “I’m coming along on this endeavour whether you like it or not,” T-Bag threatened. “’Cause I got a hell of a singing voice otherwise.”

            Yard time was over and they followed the crowd. They lined up and Abruzi turned to look at Michael. “I won’t take that piece of crap along. I won’t do it.”

            “Me neither,” Sucre added.

            Y/N looked at Michael and leaned in. “He’s a monster, I’m not in favour.”

            “We won’t have to. He’ll be out of picture soon enough,” Michael said as they walked back in.

-

Y/N sat on the cold metal stood in the infirmary, her arm resting on the exam table as Dr. Remington came over while putting his gloves on. The sterile scent of the room mixed with the subtle noise of distant chatter from the halls. She felt an ache not just in her arm but deep inside, like a constant reminder of everything that had gone wrong since she set food in Fox River. Her eyes followed Dr. Remington’s practiced movements, trying to distract herself from the tension in her chest.

            “My day gets a little brighter when I see your smile, Ms. Y/L/N,” he mused, sitting down in front of her and grabbing the supplies to inspect the wound. His tone was light, but still professional, however his eyes gave him away. They were warm, lingering just a second longer on her face as he gently touched her arm to examine the wound.

            Y/N could sense the subtle tension, the small but unmistakeable signs of attraction. She leaned forward slightly, her tone playful. “Careful, doc, someone might think there is something between us,” she mused back.

            Dr. Remington let out a soft laugh, shaking his head, but a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. “I think I’m just focused on keeping you in one piece, Y/N. Now, looks like it’s healing well,” Dr. Remington said as he gently inspected the stitches.

            “Yeah, I think so,” she muttered, her voice quiet. “Though I guess it’s hard to tell in here.” She gave him a small, humourless smile.

            He chuckled softly, glancing up at her for a brief moment. “That’s true. The conditions here don’t exactly lend themselves to quick recovery.”

            Y/N winched as he pressed lightly around the wound. “Prison life is a whole different kind of endurance test,” she said, her gaze distant for a second. “Healing’s slower in a place like this.”

            Dr. Remington nodded in understand as he finished checking on her stitches. “You’re tougher than you think, Y/N. But you don’t have to be all the time. Don’t let this place make you think you can’t ask for help.”

            She about to make a comment when Dr. Remington paused, his gaze flickering toward her bruises on her neck.

            “Do they still hurt?” he asked, nodding to them.

            “When I sleep and sometimes when I swallow, but they are ok,” she told him with a small, sad smile.

            “Mr. Scofield has been asking about you,” he began casually, though there was a careful undertone to his voice. “He comes in for his insulin shots, but he seems to have taken a key interest in your well-being. Asking about arm, your bruises or if there’s anything medically happening.”

            Y/N’s brow shot up in surprise, her heartbeat picking up. A small smile came as she glanced down. “He just cares.” Then she looked into the handsome doctor’s eyes. “We’re just friends. He’s…complicated, but it’s nothing more than that.”

            Dr. Remington raised a brow. “I see. Well, it’s good to have friends. He seems like he cares.”

            “Michael is like that,” she said, her voice softening. “He has this way of making you think he’s watching out for everyone. But there’s always a plan behind it. It’s hard to know where you really stand with him.”

            Dr. Remington did not respond right away, finishing up the check on her stitches and securing new gauze in place. He seemed to be considering her words, nodding thoughtfully.

            “Well, whatever his reasons, he’s been pretty insistent about making sure you’re ok.” He gave her a small smile before shifting topics. “Speaking of your well-being… How’s the birth control treating you?”

            Y/N blinked, surprised by the change in conversation. “Oh, right,” she said, fidgeting slightly. “I’m still getting used to it. I’ve never really been on the pill before, only ever had IUDs.”

            Dr. Remington leaned back slightly, nodding. “Did you like the IUD?” he asked.

            She shrugged. “I got pregnant last year, but I was on the copper one before I went to hormonal. Unfortunately, lost the babe, but I don’t want babies. Not now, not while I’m here.”

            “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve read good results with this pill. It takes time to get used to, especially it’s your first time, but how are you feeling? Any side effects?”

            Y/N shrugged, but quickly followed it with a sigh. “Moodiness, fatigue, I guess. And my breasts have been super tender, which is annoying. It’s just weird, you know. Didn’t expect it to mess with me this much.”

            Dr. Remington gave her a reassuring look. “That’s normal. The hormonal shift can cause tenderness, and mood swings are common at first. It should level out in a few weeks, But if it doesn’t, or if it gets worse, we can try a different prescription.”

            Y/N nodded, feeling a little better that someone was paying attention. “It’s just…I guess I didn’t think prison would be the place I’d be dealing with this kind of stuff,” she said with a dry laugh.  

            “Your health is important, Y/N,” he told her. However, even though she knew Dr. Remington cares, it was strange to be talking something so personal as birth control in the middle of the prison infirmary, especially with the mess her life had become. Dr. Remington was easy to talk to, and in a place where people rarely cared about your well-being, it meant something.

            “If it gets worst, I’ll let you know.”

            Dr. Remington gave her a nod, his expression kind. “That’s all I can ask. Just don’t hesitate to come back if you need anything. Even if it’s just to talk.”

            As Y/N prepared to leave the infirmary, the sound of footsteps caught her attention. She glanced back and saw Michael being escorted by a guard to the adjacent room for his insulin shot. He looked tired; his usual sharp gaze softened by the weariness of prison life. Their eyes met for a moment before Michael was led out of sight.

            Dr. Remington, who noticed the silent exchange, cleared his throat and gave her a nod. “If you want to see him, go ahead. He’s just getting his insulin – shouldn’t take too long.”

            Y/N raised a brow, surprised by the offer. “You sure?”

            The doctor chuckled softly, waving her off. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything. Go on.”

            A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips as she moved toward the door of the room where Michael was. When she entered, she found him sitting on the edge of the cot, adjusting his sleeve to make it easier for the doctor to administer the shot. Tattoos on display, she smiled, they were masterpieces. His head turned, his eyes lighting up ever so slightly when he saw her.       

            “Didn’t know you were coming in here,” Michael said, his tone a mix of surprise and warmth.

            Y/N leaned against the doorframe, folding her arms across her chest. “Didn’t know you had diabetes,” she quipped, her eyes trailing to the small vial and syringe in Dr. Remington’s hands.

            Michael offered a faint smile. “Yeah, I’ve had it for as long as I remember. Just something I live with.”

            Dr. Remington watched them look at one another without saying anything, and he smiled as he administered the shot, and after a few moments, he left the room, leaving them alone. Y/N walked over, standing a few feet away from him, her arm still wrapped in its bandage. Michael’s gaze shifted from her face to her arm, his expression softening with concern.

            “How’s your arm?” he asked, his voice low.

            Y/N shrugged, holding it up slightly. “It’s healing. Slowly, but it’s getting there.”

            Without saying another word, Michael stood up and moved closer to her. Before she could react, his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a tight embrace. The suddenness of it caught her off guard, but after a second, she melted into the hug. It was the kind of hug that was not just about comfort, but something deeper, soothing, protective and loving all at once.

            She buried her face into his chest, her hands resting on his back as she held him just as tightly. For a brief moment, everything else seemed to fade away – the walls of the prison, the chaos of their lives, the uncertainty. In that embrace, there was only the warmth of his body and steady beat of his heart against hers.

            “You’re a hard guy to stay mad at, you know that?” she whispered against him, her voice tinged with a hint of amusement but also sincerity.

            Michael chuckled softly, his breath brushing against the top of her head. “I don’t like giving you reasons to be mad.”

            When they pulled apart, she looked over to see Dr. Remington watching them. She pushed that away and looked at Michael, who’s expression was softer than before. “I heard you’ve been asking about me. About my health. Thanks for that. It means a lot.”

            Michael’s gaze held hers for a moment, his blue eyes filled with kind of intensity that made her heart skip. “I care about you, Y/N. I know this place makes it hard, but I still care.”

            She smiled, wanting to go on her toes to press a kiss to his lips but instead, she rubbed his arm.

            “I got to go back,” she whispered, “but I’ll see you around.”

            Y/N held herself together, as she kept her smile to herself as she left the infirmary. Michael watched her leave and all he could do was smile.

-

I hope you enjoyed! I had so much fun writing this.

Let me know your thoughts, opinions and comments! :)

Lots of love,

Ava <3

-

Taglist:

(let me know if you want to be tagged)

@enha-stars @wonuskie

[the-evil-lovable-simp]

Caine x sand bag clown doll reader

Part 1

Tw: no mouth

Pop! And there you were, you landed flat on the ground after appearing in mid-air, you opened your eyes, lifting your upper half, seeing your hands were now bean-like shape, you were about to open your mouth to gasp until nothing happened and that's when you noticed you didn't have a mouth or a nose, well you could still breath, somehow. Plus you never really used your mouth.....you think? Oh wait eating how could you do that? You had got up and dusted yourself off, just noticing your outfit, a black and white clown outfit with a pointy hat and a ruff, mmmm maybe you were a mime? You started to pull at the part of your face that didn't have a mouth anymore seeing if that would change anything...nothing, oh well. You started walking around all bouncy, being able to hear your bean-shaped feat patting on the hard-tiled floor. You stop as you hear voices, you head in that direction. The voices got louder so you hid behind a colourful box to see. You saw someone throw up and then saw some guy with teeth for a head watch in shock, he put his hands on his hip.

"Woah! Clean up on aisle U!" he exclaimed and if you had a mouth you would've laughed. Then a floating bubble came out of his hat and said,

"I'm on it boss!" and then proceeded to lick the puke up.

Teeth guy watched in disgust.

"Why are you like this?" he asked looking down at the bubble. The little person who looked to be about a few inches shorter than you and also looked like a jester, also the one who threw up, finally regained themself.

"Wait wait," they reached out clutching their head, "Was that an exit door I saw out there?" they asked looking behind their shoulder, then looking back.

"Is that a way to leave?" she asked desperately.

"What exit?" a purple bunny said as he pulled another person's arm off, and used it as a back scratcher.

"If there was a way to leave, I'm pretty sure we'd have all left by now," He then got strangled by the arm, and the person he stole it from, who had a triangle for a head, started speaking.

"Yeah, what are you talking about?" This caught the teeth guy's attention.

"U-uh I" he clears his nonexistent throat and you bob your head up and down to show as laughing.

"I assure you, there is no 'magical exit door'" he does air quotation marks with his fingers. "You're probably experiencing..." he flew up into the air.

"Digital hallucinations!" he announced as the words floated above his head all weird and wiggily. He then floated down.

"From your mind's transition to the digital plane," he said. You then started to get bored and came from behind the block, making more tapping sounds with your feet, with your arms flailing behind you, catching everyone's attention. You then stopped when you heard a certain someone say something rude, turned and looked at the purple rabbit, You stared at him, without blinking and not breaking eye contact, his smile suddenly disappeared and he looked a bit uncomfortable.

"What is that thing?" you heard the triangle person say, how ironic, you rolled your eyes.

"Aww, they're so cute!" You saw a ragdoll say, you acted more kindly towards that and closed your eyes to show a smile and waved. You looked back at teeth guy and saw him with a giant machine with the word, Pomni on it.

"Huh? Uh, s-sure. I think I just-" the jester said being cut off.

"Gadzooks, you're right Ja-" Teeth guy said but then saw you.

"This one's gotta be an npc-" The purple rabbit started to whisper to the doll.

"Oh my! Another human, and so shortly after Pomni!" He floated over to you, looking down at you, at first it made you a bit uncomfortable but you got over it.

"And what is your name?!" he asked waiting for an answer. You stared up at him blankly with wide eyes and unintentionally threatening pupils. He got a bit anxious, looking around awkwardly. Then you suddenly dashed in the opposite direction, tapping your feet along the way.

"Ah-".Teeth man made a noise of surprise as you heard the bunny laughing in the background.

Soon after the rabbit ran after you,

"I wanna see where this is going!" he said. Not long after the rest of them followed behind. Pomni had run somewhere else and Caine was left there, he was miffed, he had a whole adventure planned and everything. He then flew in the direction everyone went.

[miupow]

liaaaa hiiiii ʚ♡⃛ɞ ily too~ I hope you like this scenario for you<3

"jjun why are you looking at me like that?" you tilt your head as you sit on the countertop in your shared bathroom.

"why are you looking at me like that?" he stops drying his hair, leaving the rest to air dry. his eyes lock onto yours. how does this man still manage to make you so nervous after all this time?

he unplugs the hairdryer from the socket, setting it aside to cool down. moving to stand in front of you, his large hands rests on your thighs, brushing the hem of the oversized t-shirt you're wearing in contrast to his tank top.

"because," you shrug, "you look really good right now." you purr at him as you swing your arms over his broad shoulders, your fingers fiddling with the neckline of his tank top at the back.

he chuckles, the husky and deep sound sending chills down your spine. the things this man does to you, honestly.

"mmh, makes sense." he kisses along your jaw painfully slow, placing his kisses here and there down your neck until he reaches your collar bones. "and you make me hungry, baby."

you crane your neck back, leaning against the mirror, bringing your hands up to his hair and twirling your fingers in his dark locks. his hands heat up the area of your skin with every touch, sliding upwards under your shirt and sliding back down to your knees, spreading your legs for him to see your cute cotton panties.

"god, I could devour you right now." he sighs, biting his bottom lip at the slight damp patch by your core, kneeling on the tiled floor.

"make me feel good, baby." you whine, holding your eye contact with him as he inches closer to your cotton cladded core.

yeonjun swipes his tongue over the material blocking him from your weeping cunt. "always gonna make you feel good, doll." is what he mumbles between your thighs before moving the material aside, watching the way your cunt glistens as finally latches his puffy lips to your lower ones.

you're in for long ride.

hii smiles ilysm im sorry i didn't respond to this sooner eee ><

THIS IS SOOOOO YUMMY AAAAAAA #1 munch jjun my favorite jjun... i love soft fluffy sex so much i need to write more of that instead of the usual nasty filthy stuff i write eeekk

omg i know jjun eats pussy whenever HE wants.. he just loves it sm n he does it for his pleasure cos he gets off on making you feel good hehe... he's so pussy drunk i need to repost that pussy drunk jjun drabble i wrote ughh