#jealous x reader

[pitchouna]

helloo, I will leave a request over here ♡ What about a Jealous Goku? Ty.

Jealous Goku x Reader!!

The jealous part will take a long time to appear! OKAYY SO HEY I'M SORRY FOR THE OTHER REQUESTS THAT ARE WAITING BUT I'M JUST SUPER DUPER BUSY💔💔 BUT I'M WORKING ON THEM NO WORRIES I'LL FINISH THEM SOON!! ENJOY< 33 Warnings: cursing Words: 3197

Goku is irritated. And when I say irritated, I mean very irritated. Earlier, while training, he decided he'll surprise you with an unexpected visit he actually wanted to cuddle with you so bad, but when he was home, he did not see you. And he looked everywhere. Checking if you were cooking, were having a bath, or just napping. He even checked in the toilets!! Not finding you made him grumpy. As he ran onto his son, Goten. "Oh! Dad! Aren't you training?" Goten asked him with his usually high-pitched voice. Goku just shook his head as he immediately wanted to ask him where you were. "Hey Goten, where's your mom? I don't see her anywhere!!" Goku spoke in an annoyed tone. "Oh mom? She went shopping with Bulma and C-18!" Goten answered earning a pat from his dad. "Thank you Goten. I owe you one! See ya!" Goku waved as he teleported living a confused Goten. "Why did he wanted to see mom?... Have I done something wrong?" Poor Goten started worrying hoping he won't get yelled at later. Even if he didn't do anything, we never know with you.

"KYAAAAAA!! WHAT THE FUCK !!??" You've screamed earning the attention of Bulma and C-18. They ran towards you and opened the curtain hiding you changing. And they see you, and Goku in a weird and tight position making both of the women yell. "What the fuck?? Care To explain Goku?!" Bulma yelled. Making Goku chuckle. "Yo ! Wanted to see Y/n for a moment!!"Goku explained. Not noticing you being choked in his chest due to the lack of space. "We don't care just release her look she's not breathing" C-18 said. "O-oops. Sorry Y/n hehe..." Goku chuckled getting out of the changing room which made other people seeing you half naked. You immediately closed the curtains, grateful only Women where in this shop. "Can't you warn when you'll join!!?" You've yelled behind the curtains, embatssed that Goku spawned while you were changing. And that some girls you don't know saw your body. "Hehe... Sorry Y/n... But I wanted to see you right now!! I just could not wait anymore!!" Goku explained to you making you sigh in irritation as you open the curtains now fullyclothed. "Well as you can see right now I'm not free to spend time with you. It has been a long time since I saw Bulma and C-18 because of me taking care of your ass." You spoke bluntly making some of the women laugh since they can hear your conversation. "Anyways you should go, this is a shop only allowed to Women. If you don't go away I'll call the security!" You've said wanting him to go as soon as possible. "This isn't kind Y/n!! It makes me feel you don't love me anymore.." He pouted, making his cute sad puppy eyes, that he used when he desperately wanted something. It always works.

"O-ouch that hurts Y/n!!" Goku whine as you drag his ear to the exit of the shop, and throw him outside. "See you this evening." You've said as you walk away, not giving him a chance to say anything. Goku just sighed, disappointed he didn't get to spend time with you right now. "her problem.. I won't allow her leaving the bed tonight.." Goku pouted irritated flying back home. "Hey Y/n... Wasn't that a little too harsh?" C-18 asked you, making both you and Bulma shocked. "What the hell? You're even worse than me and Y/n reunited when it come to Krillin!!" Bulma explained, making C-18 annoyed. "Me and Krillin is another story. Plus I didn't asked you." C-18 said making Bulma irritated as she was about to explode before you interrupted them. "Oh my god shut the fuck up girls!! Look how cute this top is!!" You've said as sparkles appear in your eyes, as you show them this crismon red Henley top, making them gasp. "Oh my god Y/n !!! Are there other colors??! I need it in purple!!" C-18 said in awe "I want it in blue too!!" Bulma exclaimed. "Yup, there are some right there!" You've pointed towards a cute special stand where there was a lot of cute tops and jeans, and Bulma and C-18 both saw the one they've searched for. "Wahhhh!! I'm in love with them! You have such a good eye when it comes to fashion Y/n!!" Bulma said making you Huff in pride. "Hehe now let's go try them on girls!!" C-18 said like a little child, making you both happy and giggling like teenage girls.

At the same time, a bored Saiyan was rolling over your shared King sized bed, whining non-stop about how he's bored. "How could Y/n do this to meee??.... For once I want to spend time with her and she doesn't want to!! Then I'll bet she'll complain when I'll just focus on training again!" Goku's making a fuss to himself like a big ass baby. "What do I do now?... Y/n will probably finish in some hours... But training do not excite me anymore right now..." Goku whines as he get off of the bed, going downstairs, making his way towards the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he sighs as he sees it's dead empty, and there's just one tomato left in there. "Pff...there's nothing else to eat too... I think I'll just nap right now..." Goku gave up searching something to do. Until an idea popped on his head. "Wooh! I bet Y/n won't be able to refuse my deal!! But I need to get money to do this... And Bulma will probably say no..." Goku started to think for the first time in his whole life. And he thought too much his head started burning, making smoke. "Oh!! Right! I still have some left over Zenis I've gained when I worked as a farmer!!" Goku exclaimed proud of his amazing idea, getting ready.

As Goku prepared to put his plan into action, he couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building inside of him. For once, he would be the one in control in their relationship. He quickly got dressed and slipped on his casual clothes for once because he knows it makes you weak, feeling more confident than ever. As he stepped outside, he couldn't help but imagine the look of surprise and excitement that would undoubtedly appear on your face when you saw him. Now, it was his turn to make you feel happy. With a determined smile on his face, he teleported towards you, eager to start making his plan come to life. "Yo!" Goku said behind you which startled you. "Wahhhh!! Goku I've told you to warn me before appearing!! You scare me every damn time.." You've scolded him once again as he chuckled playfully. But something was off. You looked at him up and down and after 5 minutes of thinking you've realized he was in casual clothes. Which was very rare of him to drop his iconic orange gi.

"Oh? Is today a special day Goku? Why are you dressed like this??" You've asked curious which made Goku smile mischievously. "Since you didn't want to spend time with me earlier, I'm kidnapping you with me on a date!!" Goku said this with pride, which was very cute to see. "So... You're the one paying?" You've asked him smirking. And he nodded. "Alright !! I'll get ready!!" You've exclaimed excited to show him the new dress you bought with your girls earlier. "When do we go? And where do we join?" You've asked Goku which made him frown. "Huh? Why would you want to know that? We're going together right?" Goku said as confusion ran into his non-existant brain. "I want you to see me at the very last moment!! I'll be so gorgeous you'll fall in love with me once more." You've said confidently. "But I'm calling in love with you more everyday already?" Goku said so innocently that almost made you giggle and kicking your feet. But you were not a teenager any more, so you've controlled yourself and only blushed. "W-well it won't stop you to fall in love again." You've said not looking in his onyx eyes. Worried to show your teenager girl side that desperately wants to manifest itself. "Hehe. Fine! But you better be breath-taking!!" Goku smirked challenging you. "Oh yeah?! Challenge accepted!!" And with that, Goku gave you the hour and the place you both will meet up.

When the sun disappeared and the moon appeared, you were surprised to see what Goku has planned was a cute little picnic near a clear lake filled with petals of roses. There he was standing in what seemed a suit, he really wanted to impress you on this one. And it did. The sight was so breath-taking. The way his hair flowed through the wind, the sweet aroma of the roses mixed with the fresh scent of nature, and just the way the candles perfectly lit up the place was perfect. Goku sensed your presence and turned towards you "You're finally here Y/n! I was waiting for-" Goku just stopped talking. You looked ethereal. The way your hair was tied up in a side bun, with a rose to perfectly match your crismon red semi-long dress that flowed through the wind. The last time you saw Goku looking at you this way was the day of your wedding. "Woah.. Y/n.. You look so.. Gorgeous.." Goku struggled to find the perfect words to describe you as he walked towards you, helping you sit down the picnic mat. "So... Did I succeed making you fall in love with me once-more?" You've asked your husband who just responded you by cupping your cheek with a sweet and loving kiss, then saying "Is it possible to marry someone once more time?" he asked innocently making you laugh. "I wish it was. But it's not." You've answered making him pout. "Let's just start eating I'm hungry anyways.." He said. "What did you bring?" You've asked him, curious "I've brought sweets!! But we can always go somewhere else if you want to go-" You've just shushed him with your fingers, enjoying the moment you're both sharing.

On the way home, you've decided to walk around the city a little before just flying back home so the moment will last a little longer. But you both did not expected that this would ruin this perfect date. "Excuse me miss!! May I have a picture with you? You're just so beautiful!!" A child made it's way towards you and politely asked making you melt as you accepted. Goku feeling the warmth of your hand gone, as you had to stop holding his hand to take the picture, made him pout... But that was just the beginning. Immediately when you came back, you were interrupted again. "Hello!! May I ask where you bought your dress? It's beautiful!!" A woman younger than you asked so nicely that you forgot to take Goku's hand. "Of course!! Here I've bought it at "_____" The woman thanked you and made her way towards the shop as you waved her. You've turned towards Goku and spoke. "So what were we talking about-" This time, it was a little girl who interrupted you. She just poked your side shyly and it made you melt once more. "H-here.. Take this rose... It's as beautiful as you..." The little girl shyly said making you blush... "Thank you little one!! That's very cute of you!!" You've thanked her taking the rose in your hands enjoying the nice scent of it. Her mother took her and apologized for her interruption and you've just brushed it off saying it was alright. But it wasn't, for the Saiyan that is starting to get irritated. Pouting and tapping his feet as he's waiting for you to get finished. Just as you were about to come back, other people gave you flowers, coupons for free food at restaurants, (which Goku did not really mind tbh) some asked you how are you so beautiful, and some asked you to join a model agency!

Goku watched as you received flowers, coupons, and compliments left and right. He couldn't help but pout and tap his feet impatiently as he waited for you to finish talking to the people around you. But as soon as he heard you say, "I accept," his heart sank. He knew you had always wanted to be a model, but the thought of you being approached by other men with ulterior motives bothered him. Goku couldn't help but feel a sense of jealousy and possessiveness wash over him. He wanted to keep you all to himself and protect you from any potential threats. "Okay now that's enough.." Goku growled but you didn't hear it. You've finally walked back towards Goku, carrying the flowers and coupons in hand. But before you could say anything, Goku spoke up, his voice filled with irritation. "I can't believe you just accepted to become a model! Did you even think about me? I don't want those men to just ogle at your beautiful body all day!" Goku exclaimed. You tried to reassure him that it was just a one-time opportunity, but Goku just couldn't help but get even more jealous. "I don't care if it's just for one day!" Goku snapped back at you. "I don't want to risk it. I don't want those men looking at your body." Goku started grumbling, crossing his arms. You've sighed, trying to calm him down. "Goku, please understand. This is a one-time opportunity. It's not like I'm going to be a model permanently. And besides, I'd be paid well and we could use the extra money!" You've tried to reason with him, but to no avail. Goku just couldn't shake off his feelings of jealousy. Goku continued grumbling, clearly not happy with the situation. "But what if those men try to make a move on you? What if they try to take advantage of you? I don't want anyone else touching you but me." Goku couldn't help but voice out his insecurities and fears.

You've finally had enough of his possessiveness and jealous behavior. "Goku, enough!! I can take care of myself! Do you really have so little faith in me? Don't you trust me to handle myself in this situation?" You've confronted him, your patience running thin. Goku was taken aback by your reaction. He did trust you, but his jealousy was getting the better of him. "I do trust you, Y/n. But I can't help but feel protective of you. I don't want anyone else touching your body but me." Goku admitted, his possessiveness creeping in again. You've let out a frustrated sigh, feeling overwhelmed by his possessive behavior. "Goku, this is really getting too much. I'm a grown woman and I can handle myself. You need to stop being so possessive and jealous. It's not healthy for our relationship." You've tried to reason with him, hoping he would understand and control his emotions. Despite your attempts to reason with Goku, he refused to listen to reason. His possessive behavior and jealousy continued to take over, making it impossible for him to see things from your perspective. You felt more frustrated and hopeless with every attempt to make him understand, and it seemed like there was no way out of this cycle of jealousy and possessiveness. "Ugh!! I'm done!" You've said walking away making Goku worried "Hey! Where are you going?" Goku asked curiously. "I'll sleep at Bulma's this night. You've pissed me." You've said until you took a Taxi, leaving an irritated Saiyan all alone. He just decided to leave you be, thinking that you're the stubborn one here. He just kept mumbling on his way home that this night was near perfect until strangers ruined it.

The same night, he just couldn't sleep at all. The bed felt empty without your presence. Usually it doesn't mind him when it happens, when he goes training for a long time or just when you go to sleepovers with your friends, but this time? It was... Not the same. It felt cold empty and he hated it. He hated how bitter this night became. So without a second thought, he sensed your Ki, and teleported at Bulma's, in the room she gave you to sleep in. He looked at you, sleeping calmly, as if nothing happened. And as of you do not miss Goku's presence while he did missed yours. "Gosh... How can she acts as if nothing ha happened?.." Goku complained joining you into the bed and taking you in his arms and nuzzled in your neck. With you in his arms, he fell asleeo with ease and looked like a big fat ass baby. He also kept mumbling in his sleep things like" You're mine" "There's no way I'm meeting you go there." "No photoshoots we'll stay together today." He's the cutest. But won't hesitate to take advantage of his strength to lock you in his arms so you won't leave him.

Bitch sorry for randomly disappearing I just forgot this account existed tbh but anyways I'm back!! I have a lot of requests too but I'm super busy sorry y'all will have to wait.. Anyways I love u guys Take care!! <33

[drgnflyteabox]

Fem!reader x 141

Honestly might be able to to something with the gross stuff I saw at the hardware store I used to work at (except make it hot and 141)

Imagine you're a cashier, the only one with early morning availability so you're there at 5:45am for the 6am start. It's always the worst kinds of contractors there: rude, tired, dirty, leering gazes and sexist comments

You're pretty sick of it, but you get paid a bit more than minimum wage and you're done by 11am so, you take it with a cheery smile and fast service

The 141 contracting company starts spending at your store. So much, in fact, that your manager personally takes you aside to mention just how much they do - nearly a million a year - and how no matter what, your job is to be nice and please them

Well, you can do that. You've dealt with crazy, awful old contractors screaming in your face about lumber prices at 6:30am more than once, heard them talking about your tit's or your ass right in front of you - you can handle it

Until the masked one comes in first and hes huge, dark hoodie and cargo pants hanging low on his hips. He hands you 3k in bills only there are bloodstains on them and he watches you closely the whole time you count them out

It's... not a first, but the look he gives you makes you shiver. Pale eyelashes, tall, intimidating

The second is nicer. Too nice, in fact. He charms you before you're even fully awake, and your shift goes by quickly thinking about that winning smile and the way he'd touched your fingers while he handed you a stack of bills... not to mention those soft brown eyes

The third is... intense, for 8am. He rolls on the balls of his feet, stares at you harder than the masked one. He offers to buy you a hot chocolate at the coffee shop next door and grins like you made a joke when you decline

Their boss is fucking dreamy. Even you have to admit it, trying not to look up at his mustached, frankly porno-esque face. He's huge, as tall as the others but thick, with a little pudge around his belly. He trudges in with thick workboots and a stained t shirt, pays for 24k worth of material with a lazy smile on his face like it's nothing

You might ask head cash to move you to the garden center after all...

[allurilove]

Yandere Ghost x you

Rated 18 + — mature short content !

Includes: A little introduction to very pretty and demure yan ghost x gender neutral reader, perverted behavior, mentions of cheating and murder, he wants to be your one and only.

Part two ! ★

Yandere ghost had been alone for five hundred years. He had seen many people come and go, and none of his lovers had last long. They were all peaceful people who accepted death and their untimely demise, and no matter how hard he would beg for them to become a spirit and stay with him—they chose to go to heaven. Yandere ghost was scared to let go. He wanted to be on earth forever.

Yandere ghost had the prettiest hair that rivals the finest silk. Before he had died, he was a paramour. He fell in love with a married woman that made him want to be the best version of himself. He started to learn all the beauty secrets he could, traveling around the globe for the best ingredients for his skincare and hair. He dabbled in makeup, adding a bit of rouge to his cheeks and stained his lips pink. He took care of his body well. He used sugar to wax any hair on his torso or legs, and slathered scented creams he made himself so he smelled rosy. He made sure he would massage his legs and face after he woke up, and put ice on any puffy areas.

Yandere ghost was murdered by his ex-lovers husband. He didn’t like to dwell on his death, and he hadn’t exactly been truthful to you about it as well. He didn’t want you to think lowly of him for being the “other woman” and breaking a relationship apart. But, when he does get unwanted memories from that unfortunate night, he appears in your bedroom. You could feel his presence whenever he comes and goes, his cold hand would gently tug at your blankets, and you shivered as his body slowly sided next to yours. He would play with your pajamas, kiss your cheeks and bite on em. Not too hard, but enough so he could see his teeth marks.

Yandere ghost was grateful that you weren’t creeped out by the sight of him rubbing his cheeks on your inner thigh. He liked resting on your lower half since it was so unbelievably warm. He liked pressing his tongue against the crotch, and he smiled often at the wet spot that usually formed down there. He doesn’t want to be too forward with you, so simple touches like these was all he did. He kissed the fabric of your underwear, trailing upwards to your midriff, and his fingers grazed over the soft skin of your thighs. Yandere ghost was more active during the night time, and he preferred to keep himself hidden from you. Sometimes, he would pop out if you had another man over. His beautiful face would twist into disgust, and for a brief moment, he would reveal the most ugly parts of himself to the man he considered to be “trespassing.”

Yandere ghost was a little mischievous and jealous man. He didn’t like seeing you with anyone else because he had felt like you were the one. Yandere ghost was a man of many talents. He could rip his body into half on command, his intestines hanging like strings, and his mouth could detach from the jaw. He often liked to scare the men by hovering over them, his eyes wide and white without a pupil in sight, and his breath that reeked of spoiled and decaying fish would waft into their nose. If that didn’t work, he would beg them to free him from this house, and scream that there was a curse for any man that stepped foot on this land. He would crawl on the ground, sobbing endless black tears. Every time they would snitch on him… yandere ghost just disappeared immediately. He wouldn’t want you to see this jealous side of him.

[evilgwrl]

Jealous!Ghost does something to me… sorry

He was everywhere, balls slapping heavily against the fat of your ass, your spine nestled into the wall as he fucked into you, cock splitting you open with the desirous intention to ruin you for anyone else.

“You gonna fucking talk to him again, hm?” He spat, licking a stripe of your neck as he held onto your hips, bruising fingers digging litters of marks against your pretty skin.

“N-No Simon,” you whined, hiccuping as he thrusted back into you, his voice menacingly low as he growled low in his chest. Your neck was stained with dark hickies, marks that Ghost needed everyone to see, especially the incapable Soldier who decided that sparring with you was appropriate.

“Fucking slut, ain’t you? My dicks not enough for ye’ or something? Gotta get it from everyone?”

His words shot through you as you choked out a moan, angry tip nudging your sweet spots with a fiery force, heat penetrating through you. His eyes were shot into slits, a possessive glint controlling every movement as he muttered into your neck.

“I see you around him again and I’ll kill ‘em, you hear me?”

You nodded against the wall, lower back aching at the constant pressure of being slammed against it during his fuelled assault against your squelching cunt.

Ghost didn’t say anything after he emptied inside you, guttural groan leaving his lips as he pulled out, dropping you to your feet and leaving in an aggravated hunch, your legs shaking as you tried to squeak out a ‘wait’.

[buckiverse]

Lessons

☆--- paring: zayne x reader

☆--- summary: Your childhood best friend, Zayne, had always been there for you, loyal, supportive, and understanding. So, when you realized you had a crush on Caleb, you turned to him for help. Taking it upon himself to be your guide, Zayne offered to teach you a few lessons in love. But as the lessons progress, you start to wonder... was Caleb really the one you wanted all along?

☆--- word count: 9.9k

☆--- warnings: mdni, oral sex, fingering, missionary, zayne is literally so jealous, caleb is kinda the boy best friend you tell your boyfriend not to worry about ngl, reader is inexperienced, soft!dom zayne, size kink if you squint, zayne knows you so fucking well it's sickening (he's just so sweet), no protection is used (wrap it before you tap it)

☆--- a/n: loosely based on nightly rendezvous (yes im doing a childhood best friend au for everyone... i fear im obsessed)

↳ xavier | sylus | caleb | rafayel

Some part of you felt like it was a bad idea—you knew better. Even after all these years, it felt surreal that Caleb was one of your closest friends. In your small town, there weren’t many people to bond with. The tight-knit community had shrunk over time, and most people you knew were just memories now. But you’d never forget the two boys who lived next door. One was more charming, the other more reserved, but both were just as kind and reliable.

Years later, that sense of community felt like a distant dream. It was why you jumped at the chance to move closer to Caleb and Zayne after they relocated to the city. The passing of your grandmother had made staying in the countryside unbearable. But as you stood ankle-deep in snow, staring at the truck piled high with your belongings, you wondered if you were in over your head.

The cold wind bit through your gloves as you trudged inside the apartment building. Your eyes darted nervously to the heavy furniture that needed to be moved. You shifted your weight, glancing at the door every few seconds. If any of the boys decided not to show up, you would be screwed. 

“Y/N!” Caleb’s voice rang out, and your head snapped up. Relief surged through you as you saw him approaching. Without thinking, you rushed into his arms, your cheeks burning as his warm embrace enveloped you.

“It’s good to see you too,” he teased, his playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips. His hands rested lightly on your back as he pulled away, studying your face. “How long were you standing out there?”

“Not long,” you lied with an awkward laugh. “I just—got lost in thought.”

How he looked at you made it hard to breathe, as if he still saw the same girl from all those years ago. The creak of the lobby door saved you from spiraling further. 

Zayne strode in, his dark coat dusted with snowflakes. His sharp gaze flicked from you to Caleb’s hands, still resting on your waist. For a moment, his jaw tightened, but he quickly smoothed his expression.

“You’re late,” Caleb called out, smirking.

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Zayne replied, his tone dry as his eyes settled on you. “I almost thought you forgot about me.”

“Never,” you said with a grin, stepping forward to hug him. His arms wrapped around you briefly, his touch warm but hesitant. You smiled before turning and walking over to the elevator. You missed your family, and now it felt a little closer to being pieced back together. 

You gave a debrief of the plan for the day, as there was plenty you could do on your own later. Though you were grateful to Xavier for helping you get a place, it needed…tlc. The boys agreed to help you move bulky items and clean up the remnants of a bug treatment. 

The boys retreated to the lobby—they had to move a couch and some other, far too heavy things. The three of you had been friends for years, bickering and fighting like siblings, but never with ill intent. Though Caleb and Zayne constantly teased each other more recently than anything, you weren’t sure what was a joke anymore. 

Your body jolted. A sound of a shout came from the hallway, distracting you from sweeping. 

“Damn—Zayne, pull up the couch—” Caleb strained and bit out. 

“You’re the one who’s not paying attention,” Zayne shot back calmly. 

You walked up to the unfolding scene, your hands resting on your hips when you approached them. The couch was now on the tile of the apartment hallway. You were glad they didn’t break your stuff while they messed around.

“And… Why is my couch on the ground?” you asked, your gaze shooting between them. 

“It seems Caleb’s grip slipped,” Zayne quipped. You could feel the air quotes around the last portion of his statement. His hands were resting on his hips as his breathing slowed and evened out.

“I just need a second—I’m sweating over here,” Caleb said, a deep breath coming from his lips. 

You watched as he lifted his shirt. His jeans rested low on his hips as he lifted the fabric, you could see faint trails of hair leading down his abdomen. He had a vein running above his hip to below his pants. 

Your eyes betrayed you as you shamelessly traced his body. Fuck, he looked good.

Zayne watched you in silence, observing, watching the surprise on your face when Caleb lifted his shirt. And he did not like it. First, why did Caleb always do shit like that, but besides, why did you seem to like it so much.

The three of you worked together to tackle the chaos of the moving day. With the bulky items moved, Caleb helped you clean the kitchen while Zayne focused on the living room. You stood on your tippy toes, wiping the cabinet the best you could, stretching to reach the top shelf. Caleb moved in behind you, his body brushing against yours. 

“Let me get that,” he said, his voice soft as he grabbed the cloth from your hand.

Your breath hitched as his warmth seeped through your back. His fingers brushed yours briefly, sending a jolt through you. You moved aside, trying to compose yourself. He stepped to the side after finishing, leaning onto the counter, “Why don’t I take over this part, since you’re so small?” a playful grin played on his lips, as he winked at you. 

“Always picking on my size,” you joked, your voice shaky. “Maybe you’re just too tall.”

His grin widened, but something in his gaze lingered a moment too long. “...Maybe,” he murmured, his voice low.

From the corner of the room, Zayne’s gaze flicked toward the kitchen. His hand paused mid-swipe on the wall, his eyes narrowing at seeing Caleb leaning close to you. His grip on the rag tightened, but he quickly looked away. This wasn’t the time.

You noticed all his progress when you made your way to Zayne. He almost successfully cleared the living room. “Can I help?” you said, approaching his side. 

Zayne’s lips quirked into a slight smirk. “I figured you’d be too busy with Caleb to remember me.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you shot back, an uncomfortable laugh leaving your lips.

He attached the extended handle before handing you the mop, his fingers brushing yours slightly. “Guess I’ll have to remind you why I’m the favorite,” he said, his tone light but his eyes serious. 

☆

You fell into a routine in the following weeks, trying to adjust to your new life. Weekly meetups with Caleb became a ritual, and today, you waited for him at a quaint coffee shop Zayne had introduced you to. The warm smell of coffee and pastries filled the air as you spotted Caleb walking in, his black coat framing his tall figure.

“Y/N!” he called out, his smile lighting up. He hugged you tightly, lifting you off the ground for a moment.

When he set you down, his eyes held yours for a beat too long. Your stomach flipped as you sat across from him, trying to steady your thoughts.

You began your catch-up over a coffee and some food. Your discussion filled the silence, and you shared a laugh while discussing the latest work drama. You clued Caleb into the details about your coworker, and how the Hunter’s Association locked his file.

It was pretty peculiar in your field; most hunters had a public record, released by the organization they resided under, but in his case, it wasn’t as easily accessible, making him a high-profile individual. Which just made you curious. As talented as you were you couldn’t help but notice the difference in skills between the two of you. It was so obvious he’d been at this longer than you. 

Caleb listened intently as you shared the latest work news, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup.

“And what are you going to do about it?” he asked, his voice teasing. “Detective work?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. “I don’t know. It feels like I’d be invading his privacy. I guess—I’ll wait for him to tell me when he’s ready.”

Caleb’s gaze softened. “That’s just like you,” he said quietly, his purple eyes glinting in the light.

Before you could process his words, your watch buzzed with an alarm. “I gotta get back to work,” you said, grabbing your things in a rush.

“I’ll take care of this,” he said, gesturing to the table. “See you later.”

It was a lighter cold today, and no heavy snow blocked your path. As you walked back to work, you were honestly heavy in thought. You couldn’t stop thinking about Caleb. His smiles and touches felt deliberate, and you had no idea how to handle it. Dating had always been a mystery to you, and your nerves weren’t helping.  

This wasn’t the first time these nerves graced your presence. When you were much younger, you recall the party, the smell of alcohol, the loud music, and unfamiliar faces. You knew Zayne and Caleb of course, but them being a bit older than you made this crowd—one you hadn’t been exposed to before.

Making your way through the door was the worst. Caleb knew everyone, saying “hellos,” “hi’s,” and “what’s up, dude,” as he led the way. Making your way through the moving bodies was a challenge. You were thankful for Zayne’s hand holding onto yours as you made the way. You scanned the crowd, and everyone was dancing. The number of people grinding on others was mesmerizing, and you wanted in.

The music thudded through the walls, pounding against your ears. You remember making your way up the stairs, following closely behind Caleb, as Zayne sandwiched in behind you, finally letting go of your hand. Honestly, this didn’t seem like Zayne’s type of crowd, and he wasn’t the most outgoing. 

When you reached the room, it had fewer people than the rest of the house. You walked in, sitting on the couch while Zayne stood near the corner of the room. Some people sat in a circle with a bottle in the center, obviously playing a game. One of the girls asked if you and the boys wanted to join. 

You could feel the eyes of two important men in your life shift to you. Both were curious about your response. 

“...yeah.” 

Caleb also joined the game, sitting directly across from you. A girl with blonde hair spun the bottle, and before you knew it, it was your turn. 

Placing your hand on the bottleneck, you spun the bottle, watching its turning motion with curiosity. When it stopped on Caleb, the purple of his eyes glinted as he looked between you and the bottle. 

You could hear the circle of people urging you both on. It was just a kiss. You could do this. He’s your friend. You sat up on your heels, your hands burning as they rested on your knees. 

He got close to you and whispered, “Ready?” only for your ears to hear, and he kissed you, his lips connecting with yours softly, sweetly. Some people teased him for the gentleness at which his lips touched yours, but something shot through you when his lips touched yours. He softly bit your bottom lip before he pulled back from you. 

He kissed you. Zayne saw, everyone saw, and you liked it. 

You needed advice—something solid to guide your next move. You’d already admitted to yourself that you liked him, but how were you supposed to approach this? What did you even say? Zayne helped you through that kiss, reminding you it was just a game. But all these years later, you wanted to be more than a game to Caleb. Even in your shared youth, he had good advice for you, so why wouldn’t you trust him?

When you arrived at the office, your mind was still a tangled mess, buzzing with uncertainty. You decided it was no use overthinking it; it was better to rip the bandaid off.

You pulled out your phone, hesitating for a moment before texting Zayne:

You:

“Can I call you? I need some advice.”

When his reply came moments later—“I have a patient right now. I’ll call you after.”—you let out a relieved sigh. You trusted him, and you needed his help.

Relief washed over you as you read his reply, your heartbeat finally slowing to a steady rhythm. You let out a soft sigh, tucking your phone away. All you had to do now was organize your thoughts.

While you waited, you turned to your caseload, focusing on the profile you’d been compiling for a new wanderer-type you’d encountered during a hunt weeks earlier. Using old files as templates, you typed furiously, the steady rhythm of the keyboard pulling you into the zone. Minutes turned to hours as you worked, the world fading into the background.

The buzzing of your phone jolted you back to reality. You glanced at the screen and barely caught the call before it went to voicemail.

“You want me to teach you how to date?” Zayne’s voice drawled through the line, laced with amusement.

Heat rushed to your face as you groaned audibly. “That’s not—it’s not like that!” you blurted, but Zayne only chuckled softly.

You spent the next ten minutes stumbling through your explanation, your words tangling as you tried to paint a coherent picture of your situation. When you finally stopped, waiting anxiously for his response, all he said was:

“Okay.”

That one word was enough to knock the wind out of you. “Okay?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he confirmed calmly.

Your heart soared. “Okay, then,” you echoed quickly, trying to mask your nervous excitement. You rushed to thank Zayne before ending the call, clutching the phone to your chest. Relief and joy bubbled inside you. You knew Zayne would come through for you. You trusted him completely.

On the other end of the call, Zayne set his phone on his desk, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. He began packing up for the day, shaking his head in amusement. The idea of you coming to him for dating advice was equal parts endearing and intriguing.

Of course, he would help you. That much was never in question. But who had caught your interest so suddenly? The thought gnawed at him, tempting him to ask outright, but he resisted. He’d figure it out eventually.

As he picked up his phone to draft a response, a quiet laugh escaped him. “Lessons,” he murmured, the word rolling off his tongue with amusement. He couldn’t help but smirk as he began typing out a plan. Lessons in dating and seduction? If anyone was going to help you succeed, it was him.

☆

Your phone buzzed with details for your first lesson. You had to admit you were quite excited. When you open the message, you read simple instructions:

Zayne:

“I’ll pick you up at 7 pm. Wear something nice, but comfortable.” 

A quiet scoff escaped your lips as you gripped your phone, its cool metal grounding you—way to give me nothing, Zayne. Still, you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips as you typed back.

You:

“Got it.” 

With a rare day off, you had more than enough time to overthink this date—or, well, lesson. You'd been on dates before, but this felt different—important. You wanted to impress Caleb later, but you also wanted to enjoy this with Zayne and learn from him.

Determined, you took your time getting ready—a long bath, smooth and refreshed skin, natural hairstyle, skipping the heat of flat irons. Your makeup was subtle, accentuating your best features—your eyes and lips. The outfit? Simple, with an effortless elegance: a black skirt, a beige sweater, and knee-high black boots. Something nice but comfortable, you echoed mockingly in your head.

The doorbell rang. Your pulse quickened. Taking a deep breath, you cracked the door open.

“I’m grabbing my bag—give me a sec,” you said quickly before shutting it again.

Zayne chuckled softly on the other side. You looked nervous, and he thought it was cute.

When you finally stepped out, his eyes swept over you, approval flashing in his gaze. “Ready?” His voice was warm, familiar.

You swallowed, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Yeah.”

Locking up, you stepped beside him, weaving through the apartment halls. The elevator was packed when it arrived, leaving just enough room for the two of you to squeeze in. When the doors slid shut, the crowd's pressure pushed you toward the back corner of the elevator.

Zayne stepped in after you, his body instinctively blocking the others from pressing too close. His warmth enveloped you, a wall of quiet protection. When his chest brushed against yours, your head shot up, startled by the contact—only to knock it against the cold metal wall behind you.

A low groan slipped from your lips, and Zayne chuckled. “Careful.” His hand came up, cupping the back of your head gently.

You stilled. Zayne’s touch was light but steady, fingers warm against your scalp. You let yourself settle into it for just a second, your cheeks heating.

Then, with a soft ding, the doors slid open. The moment was gone.

You followed him out quickly, slipping into his car. The silence was thick but not uncomfortable. Still, you were the first to break it.

“So… where are we going?” you asked, anticipation bubbling beneath your skin.

Zayne’s grip tightened subtly around the gear shift, veins visible against his skin. His lips curled into a faint smile. “You’ll see.”

—

You hadn’t expected this.

The setup was breathtaking—candles flickering softly, a picnic blanket spread on the grass by a lake, and wildflowers scattered around like nature’s own confetti. The crisp spring air carried the scent of earth and blooming petals, a reminder that winter’s grasp was finally loosening. The sun had just begun its descent, casting everything in golden light.

Zayne stood behind you, watching. He caught how your breath hitched and how awe softened your features. The faint flush that always seemed to bloom when he was near. He reveled in it.

“Lesson one,” he murmured. “A date.”

You turned to him, eyes wide. “Zayne, this is…” Your voice wavered with something close to wonder. “This is perfect.”

A small, knowing smile touched his lips.

You hesitated. “I’ve never really—” You exhaled. “So… what do we do now?”

He motioned for you to sit. “First? We eat.”

You obeyed, watching as he unpacked the meal. Your gaze flickered over the assortment of sweets tucked beside the entrees, and you bit your lip. He remembered your sweet tooth.

Your heart squeezed.

He handed you a sandwich—one of your childhood favorites. You took a bite, savoring the familiar flavors and the quiet thoughtfulness behind it.

The evening unfolded like something out of a dream. The conversation was easy and flowing, as it always was between you two. You talked about everything and nothing, letting the city fade away, and the wine in your glass disappeared far too quickly.

At some point, you made the mistake of looking at him.

The sunset bathed him in amber light, the gentle hues accentuating the sharp cut of his jaw and the faint green specks in his eyes. He looked beautiful—effortlessly so. The sleeves of his powder blue dress shirt rolled up, revealing strong forearms, veins pronounced as his fingers idly toyed with the rim of his glass.

His gaze lifted, catching yours.

You panicked. Tipped your head back, draining the last of your wine, pretending to admire the sky.

And so the night went on.

Laughter. Warmth. The kind of company that made the world feel a little less lonely. It had been too long since you’d felt this way.

Maybe that was why—

—why you ended up tipsy.

The last thing you remembered clearly was Zayne’s hands on your waist, steadying you as you stumbled at your door. His voice, amused and gentle, coaxing you inside.

And then—

"You're drunk."

His voice was strained.

Your skin burned. “N ‘m not,” you murmured, reaching up, fingers clumsily ruffling his hair. “I w’nted to kiss you, Z-Zayne…”

His breath hitched.

You wobbled onto your tiptoes, pressing a sleepy, featherlight kiss to his cheek. “G’night, Zayne~”

Darkness.

And then—morning.

Your head throbbed. You groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead, and then—

The memory came rushing back.

Your stomach dropped.

Shit.

What did you do?

You kissed Zayne—just a kiss on the cheek, but no less a kiss. And you didn’t know how you felt about it. Maybe you liked it. And when you checked your phone, your heart skipped a beat. 

Zayne:

“Are you feeling better?”

It was a simple question, but your body felt warm, and a smile tugged at your lips as the cold metal burned your hand. 

You:

“Yes, I’m still a bit warm, but much better :)”

And from there the conversation flowed. 

Zayne: 

“So you’re ready for your next lesson?”

You:

“Duh.”

☆

This lesson was set up differently—as a more casual experience. Zayne held the door open, allowing you to enter as the scent of perfumes and faint traces of liquor—something you planned to avoid tonight—filled your senses.

Zayne trailed closely behind you, his eyes drawn to your fitted black dress. It hugged your curves just right, and while you were always beautiful, tonight, you looked divine. His gaze lingered, but he didn’t say a word, instead committing the image to memory.

You settled into the plush velvet seat, crossing your legs as you waited for him to join you. The slight pressure of the fabric against your skin and the low hum of jazz music set a tone of subtle sophistication.

“Lesson two,” he murmured as he sat beside you. “Body language.”

A sly smile crept onto your lips. This time, you were ready. Beyond your carefully chosen outfit, you had mentally prepared to hold your ground. Tonight, you would stay in control.

“So, what’s the plan today, Zayne?” you drawled, leaning forward as your fingers lightly brushed his bicep. You pretended it was a casual touch, but the way his muscles flexed beneath your fingertips sent a jolt through you.

Zayne tilted his head slightly, studying your face. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. “You’re already ahead, princess,” he whispered, his voice low. The words felt like a direct hit to your resolve.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, your lips parted as you scrambled to regain composure. “Head start?” you echoed, tilting your head and trying to sound nonchalant.

"I want to see what you've learned—think you can charm me?" he said simply.

The lounge was an upscale dream: dimly lit, lined with high-end paintings, and filled with the smooth rhythm of jazz. The swaying figures on the dance floor moved in tandem with the music, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in the scene.

Leaning in closer to Zayne, you brushed your lips near his ear. “Should we dance?” you whispered, your hand steadying yourself on his knee.

The scent of his cologne—clean with a faint hint of jasmine—enveloped you. You felt his gaze sharpen, and when you pulled back slightly to meet his eyes, the faint green specks in them seemed to glow under the low light.

“Shall we?” he asked, his voice smooth, as he stood and offered you his hand.

On the dance floor, your movements flowed easily, the music guiding you. You pulled him closer, and your body pressed flush against his. His hands rested on your lower back, firm and grounding, while your fingers trailed up his chest. The hard muscle beneath your touch sent a thrill through you.

“You look so handsome tonight, Zayne,” you said softly, your lips curving into a small smile.

“Only tonight?” he teased, the corners of his mouth lifting.

Your finger traced lazy patterns on his chest. His heartbeat was steady initially, but you noticed the slight quickening as your touch lingered. You looked up at him, your gaze filled with something unspoken but deeply felt.

“You always do,” you whispered.

The air between you was charged, the tension pulling you closer. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, grounding you while simultaneously making you feel like you might float away.

When the tempo picked up, you spun away from him, creating a bit of distance as you swayed more freely. He matched your rhythm more stiffly than anything. You couldn’t help but smile—this was fun.

“You’re way too stiff,” you said, getting close to him. Watching him try to whine his hips to the upbeat tempo was amazing. A laugh left your lips as your hands gripped his hips. “Why are your feet so close together?!” you choked out. 

“I was never a dancer,” he said flatly, unamused by the tears in your eyes. 

“Move to the beat,” you said again, trying to show him the way, but he didn’t get it. If you asked him, he’d rather watch you move your body. You moved beautifully, rolling your hips with precision.

When the lounge prepared to close, your cheeks ached from grinning, and your legs were deliciously sore. You shivered slightly as you walked side by side through the chilly night air.

“You look cold,” Zayne said, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over your shoulders before you could protest.

The warmth of the fabric—and his scent—wrapped around you. A soft, rich aroma of jasmine and something distinctly him made your heart flutter.

You nudged his arm, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You know… I think this was the best night I’ve had in a long time.”

“I haven’t danced like that in forever.” you said.

“How could I forget?” he replied, his eyes briefly flicking to the stars above. “It’s your favorite thing.”

His fingers brushed against yours, tentative at first. You took the leap, intertwining your fingers with his. The warmth of his hand sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, and you caught the faint blush dusting his cheeks.

This man was everything.

☆

Later That Week

You had agreed to meet Caleb for a more eventful hangout—to meet downtown and do whatever caught your eye. 

You spotted him easily. His tall figure towered over most people. You walked up to him, and he hugged you tightly. The warmth of his body covered yours, but it didn’t raise your heartbeat. 

When he loosened his grip on you, his hands rested on your shoulders, “Long time no see, pipsqueak,” he said, his voice full of joy. 

Your cheeks felt tight from smiling—you were happy to see him, but not for the same reasons as before.

“I know, it’s been a few weeks,” you said, pulling back from him and looking into the purple of his eyes. “Let’s get back on schedule,” you breathed, a light smile plastered on your lips. 

Work had been busy, but the truth was that your lessons with Zayne had occupied your thoughts—and your time.

While you started your walk downtown, plenty of things caught your eye. The first thing you did was enter a record shop. The store was in the basement off of a side street. It was a little creepy, but it looked like an underground studio once you got inside. Records were all over the shop, on the wall, and in little baskets stacked in rows. 

He browsed next to you, shuffling through the records occasionally showing you one he thought you’d like or an album you’d enjoyed. And in spending this time with him, you realized that you enjoyed this. 

The simplicity between you, the light air, and the lack of expectations for anything more was all you needed. Caleb’s fingers softly brushed yours as he placed a vinyl behind the one you held up for him.

“Find anything good?” you asked, your feet planted evenly on the ground as you turned to face Caleb. 

His eyes bore into yours, something flickering over them before he answered you.

 “Nah—let's get some food,” he said quickly, his demeanor suddenly returning.

Exiting the store, you joined in step beside him, exploring the city's night scene. Your options were endless as you scanned the shops that lined the streets. You spotted a food truck and the smells coming from it were amazing. 

Altering Caleb, you both sat at the outdoor seating, waiting for your orders. The chill of the evening air seeped through your clothes, making you shiver slightly.

“Do you want my jacket?” Caleb asked, his tone playful. “You look like you’re freezing.”

“Only if you have an extra,” you said, bouncing your leg under the table to keep warm.

With a smirk, he reached into his bag and handed you a spare coat. “You’re my best friend, You know I always do.”

You slipped it on, grateful for the warmth but… that was it. There was no spark, no flutter of excitement. You tried to convince yourself otherwise, adjusting the collar and wrapping it tighter around yourself, but it felt like just a jacket.

In the quiet moment that followed, your mind drifted back to Zayne. His jacket had enveloped you in warmth and scent, and your heart raced when he was near. You glanced at Caleb, who was busy watching the street outside.

Nothing. That kiss was—just a kiss. Years ago, you wouldn’t have believed anyone. Not even Zayne could have convinced you it was a fleeting crush. But it really was. You felt proper chemistry, companionship, and care and wanted to keep experiencing that with Zayne.

The weight of your realization was crushing. All the time you spent—wasted on this man. You cared for him, you truly did. But, what about you? Why were you so pent-up and focused on this person you didn't even really like? Was it really him you missed? Or just how he filled your time and made you feel small—safe, even?

That's the point. You’re not small. You're a grown woman who can stand independently, make her own decisions, and provide her own entertainment. Relief washed over you in waves because what were you even doing? Holding onto a version of the past that no longer fits?

But right behind it, sadness crept in. Not for Caleb, but for the time lost—chasing something never meant to be yours. But you didn’t truly waste time if it led you here—to someone real. To Zayne.

You forced a smile, staring down at your lap, and tried to push away the sinking feeling in your chest. You used to admire Caleb. It should feel special, especially his attention and time, but—it doesn’t. 

Caleb was the person you had wanted—the reason for the lessons.

The contrast was stark, undeniable. And for the first time, you realized the answer had been clear.

☆

You had admitted to Zayne that you wanted a cozy evening. Work had drained you, but more than anything, your recent realization had knocked the wind out of you. It wasn’t just an idle thought—the truth that settled deep in your bones, undeniable yet terrifying.

You knew what you needed to say and do, but the effort of voicing it—of being honest with Zayne—made your nerves coil tight.

Your lessons have helped. You felt more confident, more self-assured. You understood what a date was supposed to be now, what it meant to be courted and wanted. But more than anything, you wanted something real.

With him.

So, he invited you over after work.

Zayne:

"How about I cook you dinner, and we watch a movie?"

You:

"How do you always know exactly what I need?"

…

Zayne:

"Make yourself at home. I just finished setting up."

When you arrived at his house, the living room instantly warmed you. The room glowed softly from the candles he had lined along the tables, their flickering light casting gentle shadows against the walls. The scent of something rich and savory drifted from the kitchen, mingling with the faint traces of his cologne.

But the sight of something familiar made your heart catch in your chest—small plushies, the ones you had won years ago, still resting on the couch.

He had kept them.

Your fingers grazed one absentmindedly as you took it all in, a lump forming in your throat.

You didn’t miss the sound of the shower running from the other room, and heat bloomed across your face. The thought of him stepping out—steam rising, droplets tracing the planes of his skin—sent your mind spiraling. He had just gotten off work, yet he still made time to set everything up for you.

As if on cue, the water stopped. A moment later, the door cracked open, and Zayne walked out, a towel slung low on his hips, another in his hands as he ruffled it through his damp black hair.

“Don’t be a stranger,” he said casually, his voice smooth. “Have a seat.”

Then, as if completely unaware of his effect on you, he strode into his bedroom and shut the door with a soft click.

You swallowed hard. That lasted less than a second, but it was enough.

His physique was unreal—his lean yet defined frame, the way his skin still glistened slightly, the tantalizing trail of hair disappearing beneath the towel… and God, you wanted to know where it led.

This was new. You had never felt this way before.

And he was making you crazy.

You forced yourself to move, settling onto the couch, trying to calm your racing heart as you waited for him. You distracted yourself with the snacks he had spread across the table, but your mind kept replaying that brief glimpse of him.

When he finally reappeared, dressed in a fitted shirt and sweatpants, looking effortlessly breathtaking, your breath caught in your throat.

Something about this moment—the candlelight, the scent of dinner lingering in the air, the sheer intimacy of being here with him—felt so real. So domestic. So much like something you wanted forever.

Zayne disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you in the glow of candlelight. A few moments later, he emerged with two plates in hand, setting them down on the dining table before motioning for you to sit.

“Did you make all of this?” you asked, raising a brow as you took in the spread before you.

“Of course,” he replied smoothly, settling across from you. “I figured you’d appreciate a home-cooked meal after the week you’ve had.”

Your heart ached at how thoughtful he was.

The meal was warm and comforting—just like him. You took a bite, letting the rich flavors settle on your tongue and savoring the moment. Zayne watched you carefully, his gaze flicking to your lips before he took a bite of his own food.

“This is really good,” you admitted, breaking the silence. “You’re full of surprises.”

He smirked slightly, tilting his head. “You act like you don’t already know I’m good with my hands.”

Your fork stalled mid-air. Heat crawled up your neck as your eyes snapped to his.

Zayne smirked slightly, taking another bite as if he hadn’t set your whole body on fire with that one sentence.

Your stomach twisted, and it had nothing to do with the food.

“I—” You cleared your throat, trying to regain composure. “I suppose I do.”

His gaze flickered with amusement before he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly against the wood. Something was intoxicating about the way he watched you. It was like he was reading every thought running through your head.

The tension built slowly, lingering between every glance, every soft smile exchanged over the rim of your glasses.

At some point, his foot brushed against yours beneath the table. It was barely a touch—so light it could’ve been an accident. But when you met his gaze, you knew it wasn’t.

Neither of you spoke on it. Neither of you moved away.

It was almost unbearable, the weight of the moment, the way the air grew heavier, tighter.

After dinner, you both moved to the couch. The flickering candlelight cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more devastatingly handsome than usual.

You curled next to him as he flipped through the streaming options before settling on something. Not that it really mattered—you could barely focus because of how close he was.

The movie played, but you weren’t watching.

You were too aware of Zayne’s presence, the warmth of his arm resting along the back of the couch, fingers occasionally brushing against your shoulder. Every tiny touch sent a current through you.

Then, in the middle of a scene, Zayne suddenly reached for the remote.

Click.

Ring…Ring…Ring…

Your phone started ringing, now of all times, and you dropped your gaze to the device at the same time as Zayne. 

Caleb calls all the time, but the timing of this was just—it couldn’t be a coincidence. And you weren’t sure if you should answer. 

“Don’t pick it up,” was all you heard, as you gripped the metal of your phone tighter. 

“Why,” you whispered, your voice small now. The confidence you had before flickered, unsteady—like a candle caught in the wind. You felt tender, exposed. Unsure if you had the strength to do what needed to be done.

“I know you wanted lessons, because of Caleb,” he started, his eyes meeting yours. The air felt cooler now, and goosebumps ran over your skin. 

"I can’t do this if you’re still holding onto him," he murmured, his voice steady—but stretched thin, like he was barely holding himself together.

“I can’t bear to see you with him—now that your presence has graced me, I see small pieces of you everywhere I go,” he admitted, his voice soft and tortured. 

Zayne exhaled through his nose,  running a hand through his dark hair before finally speaking.

“I don’t want you to want Caleb—I want you to want me” he breathed.

The screen froze mid-ring. A silence stretched between you—thick, suffocating. Heavy with everything left unsaid.

Your brows furrowed as you turned to him, only to find his gaze already on you—serious, searching.

Your breath hitched.

The weight of his words settled deep in your chest, heavy and unshakable.

You swallowed. Say it.

“I thought I wanted to be with another man, Zayne…” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. He tensed slightly, his jaw tightening, but you reached for his hand, your fingers brushing against his.

“But I don’t,” you continued softly, eyes searching his. “I want this. I want you.”

The words left you in a breath, raw and real.

Zayne didn’t move, didn’t speak right away. But you saw how his eyes darkened, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“Please, Zayne,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly as you leaned in.

Your breath stilled, heart hammering. He was too close—his scent, the warmth radiating from his skin, the slight tremor in his breath. And then… finally, you leaned in, and he met you halfway.

You pulled back slightly, your breaths intertwining in the room's dimness. Your eyes opened tentatively, and you saw Zayne staring at you, his chest heaving from the kiss you had just shared. 

“Again,” you murmured, a silent plea because now that you were here you couldn’t let this pass. And Zayne obeyed, kissing you again. You could feel him shifting your position. His hands found your back, and he briefly disconnected your lips to lay you on the couch. 

His knees straddled your hips, as he just watched you, “Beautiful,” he whispered before tasting your lips again, the weight of him on top of you was not only delicious but welcome. You gasped at the pressure, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. A groan escaped your mouth when his tongue entered your lips. 

“Wait,” you said, your hands resting on Zayne’s chest as he lay on you. 

“I’ve never done this before,” you said, noticing the clench of his jaw, flushed face, and swollen lips. 

He waited for a beat, watching you silently, “I’ll take care of you, princess,” he exhaled.

“I don’t have much experience,” he admitted, his gaze shifting from yours.

Your eyes widened with shock at his admission. You had assumed he was experienced, and that was part of the reason you asked him for help. 

You took a breath, smiling at him. " Let's learn together,” you whispered in his ear before leaning your head back and resting it against the pillow. 

You pulled him flush against you, his weight pressing you into the couch. He began his thorough search kissing your temple, to the crux of your ear, “Another lesson, …hm?” he whispered. And that caused you to writhe beneath him—the sound of his voice in your ear, and the soft vibrato of his confirmation. 

He began his steady exploration with his lips and hands. Stroking up and down your body, though most of it covered, the cool of his hands made your skin get chills when he touched you. 

“Can I take this off?” he asked, gesturing to your t-shirt. 

“Yes,” you said too quickly, embarrassed by your eagerness. 

You adjusted your body, allowing him to pull the fabric over your head. You lay there sitting up on your forearms, just watching his explorative touch. His pointer finger traced the outline of your bra, hovering just above your skin. 

“You—” you started, biting the fat of your lip, “Zayne, I want you to take this off too.” 

And those emerald eyes watched you. In his head, he couldn’t believe you would be his—already prepared to memorize your every reaction. His hand trembled before steadying against your skin. The contact of his hand caused you to arch away from the couch. Click.

The bra fell forward as you shrugged it off your arms. Your whole body felt warm as you guided Zayne’s hands to hold your breasts. Your hands rested on his before you moved them back to the couch. His thumbs felt the hardening peaks beneath his hands, and he gave them a tentative flick, watching your face. You squirmed beneath him. 

Sensitive here. He made a mental note, before rubbing the hardened nub against his thumb at a steady pace. 

He moved his mouth to your other breast kissing it, before watching your face as his tongue made contact with it. Your hips jerked forward gently when he flicked it with his tongue. You bit your lip watching him play with your nipples. 

“Can—you touch me there?” you whimpered. His lips parted from your nipple. 

“Where?” he asked, and both of you just looked at each other. 

Before you took his hand and brought it between your legs. You held it there rubbing yourself on his hand through your pants, but you didn't miss the way Zayne trained his eyes on you. Watching each little reaction you had when he touched you. Even the lightest of touch made his lips part slightly even with the furious flush of his skin. 

His cock was straining in his pants, but he waited, wanting to learn you first.

He laid you down, your hands threading into his hair. Pulling him close to you he buried his face in your neck. The smell of jasmine filled your senses, as he groaned beneath you, breathing in your scent. You leaned back into the couch, shaken by the idea of him on top of you.

Your breasts pressed against his chest, the cool fabric causing a shiver to roll through you. He ran his face up and down your neck leaving a trail of light kisses. It was as if he was savoring you, imprinting your smell, your presence in his mind—as if you’d be done with him after this.

“You’re beautiful,” he groaned against your throat.

Zayne steadied himself on his hands on either side of your head, his gaze trailing over your body to where he would find himself next. His eyes stopped between your thighs, he watched intently as you squirmed beneath him, your body shifting under his gaze.

Your heartbeat felt loud in your ears, and the cold stillness of the air sent a shiver through you. His lips found your jaw, kissing a slow line tracing to your throat. Each touch of his lips sent heat between your legs, and you tilted your head to give him more access, a whimper escaping your lips. 

Zayne was just a friend, someone who supported and loved you but someone you felt you couldn’t have. Your change of heart made you act on a whim to take advantage of your time with him. You wanted him, and no one else could have him but you. He was a high you couldn't—didn't want to get rid of. 

You grasped the blankets on the couch, trying to ground yourself somehow, while he worked slow kisses down your chest with light scrapes of his teeth.

His hands ran down your sides, caressing your breasts to your hips, his thumbs brushing the naked skin beneath your sweatpants. It was a maddening sensation, and you only wanted him to keep going.

You could see his erection pressed firmly against his pants, and you felt tempted to reach forward, to touch it. To pull him closer firmly against you, to feel him where you needed him most. 

One of his hands left you cupping you over your pants. The pressure against your clit stole your breath. A quiet groan of approval left his lips, while you felt a pulse between your legs.

You ground your hips upwards into his hand. A breath left your lips as you moved your hips. 

“Touch me, Zayne,” you breathed, you felt like you were in a dream. 

He paused, his breath hitching at your words. His gaze darkened, the green of his eyes barely visible, as he searched your face. His jaw clenched, his voice dropping, rough with restraint. “Say that again.”

You observed him, grabbing the drawstrings of his pants. “Touch me Zayne, …Please” Your voice came out small, pleading. 

He exhaled slowly, his fingers twitching against your skin. He traced your pussy through your pants, his fingers burning through your pants—that you wished he’d taken off already. 

"You have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his thumb brushing over you, his touch reverent, like he was memorizing you.

You had never been undressed like this. And you wanted it, you wanted to be touched by him, to feel him grabbing you.

He gripped the waistband of your pants, adjusting his position to push them down your thighs, dropping them to the floor. You sat there in only black underwear while he sat across from you, still in his t-shirt and sweats. 

His attention was all yours, and it was thrilling. 

Your hands still gripped the blanket beneath you. Your feet were tucked next to your bottom. 

“Let me see you.” His voice was low and deliberate. His fingertips grazed your knee before applying the faintest pressure. His eyes searched yours, waiting. “Spread your legs for me.”

You took in an unsteady breath, and you did it. 

His hands ran up your legs, his fingers pressing into your thighs, making your stomach tighten unexpectedly. The cool of his hands felt good against your soft skin. 

The cool air brushed against your panties making you aware of how wet your panties were. Zayne’s gaze met you there, shooting warmth through you.

Your breath hitched when his thumb pressed down on your clit through the fabric. His other hand was steady on your thigh, pressing your thighs open wider. The brush of his thumb up and down sparked a heat in your lower stomach.

You leaned your head back and started to rock under his touch. And then he kissed your nipple, sucking it into his mouth. He groaned, licking and sucking your breasts with a slight scrape of teeth. A high-pitched moan escaped your lips, one of your hands gripping his hair. 

His mouth was so hot, and he kept licking you, how you’d never felt before. You felt like you could die. So, when he removed his mouth from your breasts, you thought you were going to scream. 

He removed your underwear, leaving them in a pile with the rest of your clothes, spreading your legs once more as his gaze fell between your thighs. 

His fingers glide gently along your inner thigh, his touch warm and deliberate, but never rushed. His gaze softens as he takes you in, his breathing slow, controlled—like he’s memorizing every part of you.

"Are you sure?" he murmured, his voice hushed, almost reverent. His thumb stroked lazy circles against your skin, a silent reassurance, a quiet promise that he won’t rush you.

When you nodded, his lips part slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, searching—making sure.

"Let me take care of you," he breathed, his hands smoothing up your thighs as he leaned in closer, pressing a lingering kiss just above your knee. "I want to make this good for you."

He wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs, pulling you closer to him, and his head lowered between them. You shuddered at the first touch of his tongue, pleasure running through you. Each soft lap of your clit rolled through you. 

His arms held you so securely that you couldn’t move your hips while he licked you. As much as he said he wanted to take care of you, it felt like he was doing this for himself. 

“Zayne,” you moaned, digging your hands into his thick black hair. 

He swirled his tongue over your clit before sucking. His eyes were on you, watching you writhe beneath him. His finger filled you, sending a tremor through you, with his mouth on your clit, licking and sucking, while his fingers moved in and out of you. And he did it with such ease, deep noises of satisfaction falling from his lips. 

He was taking his time, slowly working you out and the pressure was building up in you. You bucked your hips, feeling the heat growing throughout you. 

“Zayne…I need more,” you cried out, your voice trembling with desperation. 

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, and he answered it with slow, calculated movements—his pace steady, yet devastating. He added another finger, stretching you further, his touch unrelenting as he pressed deeper, curling just right. The pleasure was unbearable in the best way, a wave crashing over you with no hope of escape.

Your breath hitched as his dark, heated gaze met yours, watching, reading every reaction like it was the only thing that mattered. His free hand smoothed over your thigh, grounding you, soothing you—only to bring you higher moments later.

A choked-out plea left your lips, your body arching, back curving as the heat coursed through your veins, pooling low in your stomach. You clenched around him, muscles tightening as that sharp, dizzying pleasure built to a breaking point.

“That's it,” he murmured, voice thick with something unreadable, something possessive yet achingly tender. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against the soft skin of your inner thigh, his breath hot and teasing, sending shivers up your spine.

And then—release.

Your body trembled, pleasure crashing into you in relentless waves. He didn't stop, not right away, working you through it, coaxing every last aftershock from your sensitive body until you were completely spent.

You collapsed against the couch, fully fucked out, limbs heavy, your mind hazy with bliss. 

A shaky breath left your mouth, as you sat up slowly running your fingers through his hair.

Neither of you spoke. You didn’t need to.

The air between you was charged, thick with something unspoken, something dangerous. Something real.

His jasmine scent invaded your senses as his body wrapped around yours. You closed your eyes, surprised by the sudden upward jerk of him holding your naked body. You held him close as he carried you to the closed bedroom door. 

He laid you on the bed gently, holding your stare, he slipped off his shirt and sweatpants, your cheeks growing warmer even as he stood before you in his briefs. You glanced at his erection pressed through the fabric. He was so hard, and it was hot. And all for you. 

Goose bumps spread across your skin, as he opened the nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom. 

“Do you want me?” he whispered, his gaze meeting yours, as he dropped his briefs. 

“Yes,” you breathed.

He crawled over you, kissing your stomach and breasts as he did. His body covered yours, so heavy. It made your skin sing with satisfaction. He kissed your neck, bracing his hands beside your head. 

Your fingers trailed the line of hair, you'd been desperate to touch. You hesitated, unsure how to touch him. 

Zayne felt your hesitation, and meeting your gaze, he whispered, “Your touch… I need it.”

Your heart fluttered with uncertainty, but you slid your hands down gripping his erection. His forehead fell on the side of your neck, encouraging you further. 

You wrapped your hand around his length. And he groaned. You ran your hand down to the base and all the way back up. 

"Don’t make me wait…please" you whispered in his ear, placing a kiss there.

"Tell me how much you need me,” he rasped, nipping at your neck.

"I’ve always needed you, Zayne," you said softly, dragging your hands through his hair. "I need you in every way… not just tonight."

His eyes met yours before kissing you while you stroked him again. Your breasts brushed against his chest, sending pleasure through you. 

“...Please” you breathed. 

He rolled onto the bed next to you, slipping off his briefs, the sound of the wrapper crinkling in his hands drawing your attention. You watched as he poised to tear it open, his gaze flicking to yours for confirmation.

“Wait,” you whispered, your voice soft but resolute. He paused instantly, his eyes searching yours.

“I want to feel all of you,” you said, vulnerability lacing your tone, the weight of your trust hanging in the air.

His expression softened, his brow furrowing with both tenderness and concern.

“If it’s too much, just say the word,” he murmured, his voice low and steady, a promise woven into each syllable. “I won’t do anything you don’t want.”

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering as though to reassure you. Positioning himself at your entrance, his movements were deliberate, his focus entirely on you.

He took the head of his erection and rubbed it against your pussy. The tip caught your clit, causing your breath to hitch. He started to slip the head inside you, and it stung. A shudder rolled through you as you exhaled. Your fingers curled on his chest as he stayed still inside you, watching your face. 

He pushed deeper into you, his gaze dark and unwavering as he watched the way your lips parted, a soft whimper spilling free. The sound sent a shudder through his body, his breath coming out ragged as he struggled to hold himself together.

The stretch burned—a slow, intoxicating burn—one that sent heat rolling through your veins. You felt so full, every inch of him fitting into you as though he was meant to be there.

When he finally bottomed out, a cry tore from your throat, your back arching, pressing you flush against his chest. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, his weight solid, grounding, overwhelming in the best way.

He didn’t move right away.

Instead, he stayed buried deep, letting you adjust, letting you feel every inch of him. Your arms wound around his neck, and he exhaled against your skin, his breath warm and uneven.

For a moment, there was only the sound of your mingled breathing, the slow rise and fall of your chests as you both tried to catch air. He was everywhere, his presence consuming, intoxicating.

And then, he moved.

A slow, deliberate roll of his hips.

You gasped at the sensation, at the way he dragged against your walls with aching precision, each thrust filling you completely. Your nails raked down his back, and he shuddered at the sensation, his control fraying at the edges.

“You take it so good,” he praised, his voice thick, rough with something raw, something reverent. 

Every time his pelvis ground against yours, his head spread throughout you. The friction sent sparks up your spine, every movement of his body against yours pulling a new sound from your lips.

He was watching you, utterly captivated by the way you unraveled beneath him. His thrusts remained slow, deliberate, as if savoring every reaction, every little gasp and moan that escaped you.

His fingers traced down your side, over the curve of your waist, gripping you tighter as his pace deepened, intensified. His gaze burned into yours, filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

His eyes locked onto yours, his thrusts slow and deliberate. “So beautiful for me,” he rasped, his voice low, dripping with need.

The words ran over your skin, filling you with warm satisfaction, your head tilting back as another moan escaped you. Zayne’s lips hovered above yours. With each slow thrust, they brushed yours lightly. 

His pace faltered, his rhythm stuttering as he fought for control, his breath ragged against your skin. But he didn’t dare rush—he wanted to feel every second of this, every shudder, every tremor that wracked your body beneath him.

“You’re mine… all mine,” he groaned, voice thick with possession, his body tensing, muscles drawn taut as he drove his hips deep one last time.

A choked moan escaped you as you shattered beneath him, pleasure crashing over you in waves. His grip on you tightened as his own release followed, a deep, guttural sound leaving his lips as he buried himself fully, claiming every inch of you.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing, your hearts hammering in sync as he collapsed against you, his weight a comforting warmth pressing you into the mattress.

Neither of you spoke right away.

Zayne traced slow, lazy circles on your bare skin, grounding himself in the feel of you, the reality of you. His forehead rested against yours, his breath still uneven but calming, syncing with yours.

Then, in the quiet, his lips tipped into a smirk against your temple.

“So… does this mean I can finally call you my girlfriend?” His voice was lower now, teasing but laced with something real—something hopeful.

He pulled back slightly, eyes searching yours in the dim light. “Or do I have to seduce you all over again?”

His grin was cocky, but there was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you—like he needed this answer.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, a slow, tired smile spreading on your lips as you exhaled softly.

"I think you already have," you whispered.

The tension broke as he let out a satisfied hum, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before pulling you closer, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

And you didn’t want him to.

Not now.

Not ever.

[rissouu]

oh no, not the pheromone perfume !

pairings: gojo, choso, ino, nanami, sukuna, toji.

warnings: suggestive language, violence, mentions of killing, + etc!!

authors note: part 2. request from this beautiful baby right here, tysm for this ml it was really fun for me!! hope you come again soon and request 💋 now for my other babies pls enjoy! anyone is free to request, my inbox is always open jus be sure to read rules.

©rissouu 2025

[rafesangelita]

pogue!sweetheart!reader meeting rafe for the first time? 🍰

warnings: jealousy, topper calls you ‘doll’, a lil bit of flirting, slight fluff

“girl scout, two o’clock.” kelce cleared his throat, topper and rafe following his gaze. you stood at the receptionist desk, chatting with the director about your plans for the week. “is she really a girl scout?” rafe’s eyes trailed down the soft curls of your hair, stopping just above the neckline of your top.

“nah, we just call her that because she sells cookies and shit. ‘really good by the way, highly recommend.” kelce leaned back in his seat, forgetting all about the cards in his hands as you started making your way towards the three of them. rafe would be lying if he said the way his friends ogled you didn’t bother him.

“hey! what game are you guys playing?” you sat your basket down on the hardwood table, eyes flickering over to rafe. “just some solitaire.” topper shrugged, removing the cloth that covered your treats. “what do you got for us this week, doll?” if rafe was bothered earlier, he was even more so now.

you smiled, tilting the basket so they can all steal a peek. “shortbread and chocolate chip.” rafe didn’t care to look at anything else other than your face, his gaze sweeping over your features. “i’ve never seen you before.” he finally spoke up, his voice immediately drawing your attention.

“uhm, i don’t think i’ve seen you either..” you extended a hand, “what’s your name?” rafe didn’t hesitate to return your gesture, taking your hand in his. “rafe, and yours?” your heart skipped a beat when you felt his thumb stroke your skin. “y/-” kelce chimed in before you could answer his question.

“i’ll take two of each. and one of you.” rafe’s head shot in his friends direction, his grip on your wrist tightening. laughing nervously, you brushed off kelce’s remark. “actually, he’s not taking anything. i, however, would like the whole basket.” shaking your head, you waited for rafe to say he was kidding.

“oh! you’re serious-” rafe got up, taking the basket in his free hand as he led you two outside and away from his obnoxious buddies. “what the hell!” topper shouted. without protesting, you allowed rafe to take you to a more secluded space, your dainty heels clicking against the pavement.

“is everything okay? i-” rafe stopped in front of the country club’s garden. “do you have a boyfriend?” he blurted, making you stumble over your next few words. “uhm, well! no, but..” taking his wallet out of his pocket, rafe took a couple hundred dollar bills before cutting you off.. again.

“not that it matters if you do, cause i’ll just take his place.” the certainty in his voice made your face flush with a new profound sense of shyness. he placed the folded bills in your palm, a smile forming on his lips at your smitten expression. “how are you so sure that you’ll be my boyfriend?” you asked.

“because i always get what i want.”

[readwritealldayallnight]

im on my knees begging for jealous Simon headcanons 🧎🏻‍♀️

The thing about Simon is, he really has no reason to get jealous when it comes to you, and he knows it

He knows there isn’t anyone else who could make you smile so much your cheeks hurt, no one else who could make you laugh until you claim you’re going to pee your pants, no one else who could make you feel as good as he does, in oh so many ways, because you tell him so

You tell him that those same feelings of being loved, understood, appreciated, and wanted, those very feelings that you make him feel each and every day, he gives them back to you a thousand times over

He knows when you look in his eyes and tell him that you love him, that there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he is the only one for you, and nothing or anyone could ever change that

You’re as smitten with him as he is with you

Still though, Simon does have eyes

And while the logical part of his brain is telling him that he’s got no reason to be gritting his teeth and clenching his fists underneath the table, he can’t help but grow more and more frustrated with the way Soap and Gaz continue to flirt shamelessly with you

To be fair, you had warned him that keeping your relationship a complete secret from everyone would likely result is moments where Simon would have to watch you get hit on, and simply have to grin and bear it

That didn’t mean it was any easier, watching his only best mates try and work their charm on you, all while he sits at the same table and watches you roll your eyes at their advances

“Aw, come on love, just one chance, s’all I ask for!” The handsome, young sergeant practically whines to you, cheeky grin plastered across his features as he tries in vain to convince you to let him take you out some time

“Pfft, ye’d be nothin’ but a waste o’ her time, Garrick. We wouldn’t even ‘ave to to leave base for me to show ye a good time, bonnie.” The Scotsman winks at you, pointedly ignoring the way Gaz elbows him in the ribs at his comment

Throughout the entire exchange, Ghost’s gaze has never left your face, watching every time you scoff and roll your eyes at the men’s antics, reminding himself that you’re his, and he is yours, and the two sergeants are nothing more than pains in both of your asses

Finished with your pitiful meal from the dining hall, you stand from the table with your tray gathered in your hands, flipping your hair over one shoulder as you look towards the men trying to win your affection

“Once again, gentleman,” you say to them, knowing that they’re listening to your every word and watching your every move. “I don’t fraternize with colleagues. At least not the Sergeants.”

The two men groan in feeble protest at the mention of their ranks, having heard this reasoning from you before

“Ach, what if I get myself demoted, lass? I ken I could do that, easy!” Soap teases you, only kind of joking

“Mmm, don’t think that’ll work.” You reply, beginning to slowly walk away from the group, but not before glancing over you shoulder to lock eyes with Ghost and add, “You might have to become a Lieutenant. Those are more my type.”

The two Sergeants are staring after you, slightly gobsmacked, while their Lieutenant hides an overly smug and satisfied grin beneath his mask, shielding the pride that spread through him at your words

“Shite, sounds like you might ‘ave a chance, LT.” Soap laughs, smacking Ghost across the shoulder in a playful gesture, thinking that the larger man would never actually pursue you, let alone sleep in your bed almost every night

It’s a few weeks later when you and the rest of the 141 are all out for drinks at a nearby pub however, when Simon finds his instincts growing stronger than his insecurities

Because that’s just it isn’t it? He’s not feeling insecure when he sees you walk towards the bar by yourself to order a new drink, at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you weave through the crowd in hopes of making a move on you

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches some tipsy idiot try and pretend he’s drunker than he really he is when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you, apparently feeling the need to put his hands on you as he apologizes

He’s not feeling insecure when he watches you shove the guy off, reading your lips he knows so well as you tell the guy you’re not interested, nor is he insecure when he knows the idiot won’t give up that easily, likely asking if you’re here alone before you point over to where the 141 have overtaken a booth in the back

No, he certainly isn’t feeling insecure when he sees that the man never bothers glancing back to the table, still trying to land a hand on your body somewhere, when Simon’s instincts take over, rising from his seat without a word to the men who glance his way and ask where he’s going suddenly

He’s acting on pure instinct as he stalks over to you, the crowd parting for his large frame to move by without hesitation, locking eyes with you just as he lands a massive skull gloved hand on the tosser’s shoulder, wringing him around to face him

Your would be admirer isn’t feeling so confident now when he’s staring up at a 6’4” wall of muscle donned in all black apart from the white markings of his skull balaclava

If he were a more jealous man, Simon might take more time to admire the way you can practically hear this idiot gulp over the loud sounds of the music, the way his eyes bulge out of his head and how he looks nearly ready to piss himself on the spot

But your man knows who he is to you, and so instead he shoves the geezer away, turning to face you as one hand lifts up the bottom of his balaclava, just far enough to swoop down and meet your lips in a passionate tangle of tongue and teeth, tasting the alcohol on each other’s breath and the desire in your systems, a kiss that says to everyone else watching, including the bewildered Captain and Sergeants gawking from across the room, that you are his and his alone

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

shoto todoroki is fucking shameless. and surprisingly clingy.

he’d done a good job becoming a little more social little by little. he’s still a little wonky and awkward during the few times he tries to make conversation, but he tries and that’s the good part. you’re proud of him.

you’ve known shoto since you were kids, his closest friend, you’d seen him through it all and you’re so grateful that he’s found friends he feels comfortable and happy with, though he always reassures you that you’re dearest to him, which always makes you a little too giddy and flustered for somebody who’s supposed to be his closest friend and nothing more.

you’re in the cafeteria chatting with your mutual friends, shoto had told you to go off without him since he needed to go the bathroom and you found yourself sitting next to midoriya when he’d scooched in next to you, happy to see there was still a spot for him at the table. you liked midoriya a lot, he was sweet, cute and most importantly he made shoto come out of his shell in a way that you regrettably never could, plus the way he flails around when he gets embarrassed is pretty funny.

(you did notice ochaco’s face going completely blank for a few seconds, but you didn’t think much about it.)

after a few minutes of giggling and chatting shoto shows up, and something is immediately wrong with the way his natural straight face goes absolutely dead in the span of three seconds. it’s subtle, but you know him and it’s there. there also seems to be a chill in the room now.

he’s at your side of the table in three seconds, but he doesn’t register your smile in greeting as his cold gaze is glued to the green haired boy next to you.

“midoriya,” and his voice even sounds a little deeper, colder as he speaks like he somehow managed to use his right side on his mouth.

“that’s my seat.” he states calmly.

“oh ! my bad, todoroki !” izuku splutters an apology, but shoto’s eyes do not waver, staying fixed on the boy until he grabs his tray and makes a move to stand “i didn’t realize this was your spot, sorry !”

you feel a little bad at how intensely he’s apologizing, but you’re still shell shocked about that look. shoto seems unfazed though, his expression morphs slightly when izuku goes to squeeze in next to iida.

“i always sit next to yn.”

it’s so stupid. really, it is. how fast that makes your heart beat. because shoto does always sit next to you, he always has and he still always does when you come over to his house. but it’s the fact that he didn’t say he always sits here, in his unassigned assigned seat.

he said he always sits next to you. and your mind and heart races.

you don’t get much time to think because immediately he’s next to you, sighing before sitting as close to you as he can. he looks over to you and you look back, still a little startle but his features are soft again when he looks at you. he drops his utensils to thread his fingers with yours under the table.

“ did you wash your hands, mister ?” you tease, but you squeeze his hand when he squeezes yours. he frowns but it’s not the one from before. it almost looks like a pout and you snort.

“yes, i did.” he snips, you giggle and his eyes soften. even as you assure him you were just kidding he doesn’t mind, he couldn’t be mad at you.

you offer him a bite of your lunch as truce and he leans forward and plops a piece in his mouth from your chopsticks, then offers you a bit of his precious soba noodles and even holds a hand below them so they don’t spill because he insists on feeding you himself.

your friends pretend they don’t see the lowkey romantic exchange, but with the way shoto keeps insisting to have you eat his food and the soft barely there smile when you crack a joke that manages to break through his icey demeanor, they can start to figure out why he wanted to sit next to you so bad.

[pradabambie]

POV: you're rafe's sneaky link and his possessive side comes out when he sees the tiny dress you're wearing at sarah's party.

[tojipie]

cw: toxic toji, violence, jealousy

thinking about jealous toji who’s stomach drops every time you mention another man. jealous toji who stays quiet and digs his nails into the palm of his hand until blood starts to bead in the divots. until the bends of his fingers creak and whine from how hard he clenches his fists. until the feeling of your hand on his shoulder and you asking if everything is alright snaps him out of it.

jealous toji who holds his tongue while you continue to ramble on about all the fun you had. he rubs the scruff under his chin with a nod, telling you he’s going out “for a cigarette” like he’s not about to find this guy and twist his head off of his body to make himself feel better.

jealous toji who decides to nurse a beer instead and contemplate the ethics of you having a boy bestie. was he insane? probably. he trusted you.. but did you really have to let that guy take you to the carnival? i mean, toji was a couple years older than you, but not so old that he wouldn’t have gone with. maybe it was a generational thing. was it now socially acceptable for other men to take his lady out and show her a good time?

what, like he’s some sort of cuck?

a searing pain in his hand and a rivet of warmth running down his arm diverts his attention away for just a moment. this wasn’t the first time he’d squeezed a bottle so hard that it’d shattered in his grip.

“well god damn.”

[amirasainz]

Could you make younger girlfriend x Lewis Hamilton. Maybe there are some rumours and then she visits the paddock with Lewis. The wags and drivers aren't to sure about this at first, but in the end see how happy the couple is. I know this isn't what you usually write, but it is my birthday today and it would make me ver happy. 🤭💗☺️

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💜

Love has no age

The first time Yn had stepped into the paddock as Lewis’s official girlfriend, the buzz had been deafening. Rumors had swirled for weeks about Lewis dating someone new, and when the truth finally came out, it was all anyone could talk about.

“Did you see her? She’s so young!”

“Twenty? Isn’t there, like, a fifteen-year age gap?”

“What do they even talk about?”

Yn had tried her best to block out the whispers, clinging to Lewis’s hand as he guided her through the chaos. He’d been her rock, as always, his calming presence grounding her in the midst of all the speculation.

“They’ll come around,” Lewis whispered in her ear as they walked to his garage. “They just don’t know you yet.”

---

Yn hadn’t expected her first encounter with the other WAGs to feel so…awkward. She sat at the hospitality table, surrounded by the glamorous women who had known each other for years. They were friendly, of course, but Yn could sense their hesitation. She was the youngest by a mile, and the age gap between her and Lewis hadn’t escaped their notice.

“So, Yn,” Carmen began with a polite smile, “how are you finding the paddock life?”

Yn straightened in her chair. “It’s exciting! A bit overwhelming, but everyone’s been so welcoming.”

“Everyone?” Kelly raised an eyebrow, her tone light but pointed. “The media hasn’t exactly been kind.”

Yn hesitated, unsure how to respond, but Rebecca jumped in. “The media is never kind. Trust me, you’ll get used to it.” She offered Yn a warm smile, her hand briefly brushing against Yn’s arm in a reassuring gesture.

“Thanks,” Yn said, her voice soft but grateful. She appreciated Rebecca’s kindness, even if she still felt like an outsider.

Carmen leaned in, placing a gentle hand on Yn’s shoulder. “We’re glad you’re here. Really.”

Yn’s heart swelled at the gesture, and for the first time that day, she felt like she might actually belong.

---

By the end of the day, Yn found herself laughing with Rebecca and Carmen like they’d known each other for years. The initial awkwardness had melted away, replaced by an easy camaraderie. Carmen had an arm draped around Yn’s shoulders as they walked through the paddock, while Rebecca kept a hand on Yn’s waist, guiding her through the crowd.

“You’re stuck with us now,” Rebecca teased. “Hope you’re ready.”

“I think I can handle it,” Yn replied with a grin.

Alexandra watched them from a distance, her jaw tight. It wasn’t that she disliked Yn—she just didn’t understand how someone so young and seemingly perfect could fit in so effortlessly. The other WAGs adored her, the fans couldn’t get enough of her, and even the drivers were charmed by her sweet demeanor.

---

“Yn!” Lando called out as he approached the group, a wide smile on his face. “Finally, someone who makes me feel less like a baby here.”

Yn laughed, her cheeks turning pink. “Glad I could help.”

“She’s not that young,” Lewis interjected, stepping up behind Yn and wrapping an arm around her waist. His tone was playful, but there was a protective edge to it.

Lando raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, no offense! I think it’s great. You two look happy.”

“We are,” Lewis said firmly, pressing a kiss to Yn’s temple.

The other drivers gradually joined the conversation, each of them making an effort to include Yn. Oscar cracked jokes that had her in stitches, while Charles teased her about her taste in music after overhearing her playlist. Even Max, who was usually reserved, made a point to ask her how she was finding everything.

“They like you,” Lewis whispered later as they walked back to his motorhome.

Yn looked up at him, her eyes shining. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he said, leaning down to kiss her softly. “But even if they didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. All that matters is us.”

---

Despite the initial skepticism, it didn’t take long for Yn to win over the entire paddock. Her kindness and genuine nature were impossible to ignore, and soon, she was at the center of every conversation. The fans adored her, flooding social media with messages of support and admiration.

“She’s like a ray of sunshine,” one fan tweeted.

“No wonder Lewis is so smitten,” another wrote. “They’re perfect together.”

The attention didn’t go unnoticed by Alexandra and Kelly. Alexandra couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy every time she saw Yn surrounded by people who seemed to worship her. Kelly, on the other hand, was struggling with the fact that Yn’s presence had overshadowed her pregnancy.

“I don’t get it,” Alexandra muttered to Kelly during a quiet moment in the paddock. “What’s so special about her?”

Kelly shrugged, though her expression was tight. “She’s nice, I guess.”

“Nice doesn’t make you the center of the universe,” Alexandra snapped. But even as she spoke, she knew her frustration was misplaced. Yn hadn’t done anything wrong—if anything, she’d gone out of her way to be kind to everyone.

---

Over time, even Alexandra and Kelly couldn’t resist Yn’s charm. During a group dinner, Yn had complimented Kelly on her outfit, sparking a conversation that lasted the entire evening. By the end of the night, Kelly was laughing along with Yn and the others, her earlier resentment forgotten.

As for Alexandra, it was a quiet moment during a race weekend that changed her perspective. She’d been feeling particularly stressed, and Yn had noticed, pulling her aside to ask if she was okay.

“No one’s ever asked me that,” Alexandra admitted, her voice soft.

“Well, someone should,” Yn replied. “You’re always looking out for everyone else. It’s only fair that someone looks out for you.”

Alexandra had been taken aback, but she couldn’t deny the warmth she felt in that moment. From then on, she made an effort to be kinder to Yn, and before long, they’d developed a tentative friendship.

---

Lewis couldn’t have been happier. He loved seeing Yn thrive in the paddock, surrounded by people who cared about her. But more than that, he loved Yn herself. She was everything he’d ever wanted—kind, intelligent, and full of life.

“You know you’re amazing, right?” he told her one evening as they sat on the couch in his motorhome.

Yn looked up at him, her eyes wide. “I’m just me.”

“And that’s more than enough,” he said, leaning down to kiss her.

Their love was obvious to anyone who saw them together. Lewis was always touching her in some way, whether it was a hand on her back, an arm around her shoulders, or a kiss on her forehead. He was protective but never overbearing, always making sure Yn felt safe and loved.

“You’ve got yourself a good one,” Valtteri told Lewis one day, nodding toward Yn, who was deep in conversation with Carmen and Rebecca.

“I know,” Lewis said, his voice full of affection. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

---

By the end of the season, Yn had become an integral part of the paddock family. She was no longer just “Lewis’s young girlfriend”—she was Yn, the girl everyone adored. The WAGs were her closest friends, and the drivers treated her like one of their own.

As for Lewis, he couldn’t have been prouder. Every time he looked at Yn, he was reminded of how lucky he was to have her in his life. And if anyone had doubts about their relationship at the start, they were long gone now. It was clear to everyone that what Yn and Lewis had was real.

Age was just a number. What mattered was the love they shared, and that was something no one could deny.

[boyimjustaloserforyourlove]

Snap Snap Snap

https://www.tumblr.com/boyimjustaloserforyourlove/767338606523301888/snap-snap-snap-pt-2?source=share part two!

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED IN MY POSTS OR THE NEXT PART IN THE COMMENTS OR ANYWHERE ELSE!

me to their seminal vesicles because i wasn't raised to take shit from no man 💅🏻 also them to you in this smau✉️

my second request!!?! i hope this is to your standards. no Choso and Yuji because I can't see my babies snapping. it can't happen.

you like ? let me know! comments and reblogs and likes are appreciated and give me dopamine!

send requests, I'll probably do them all lol. i hope it is to your liking.

don't worry, both of these will be coming. your vote decides which one comes first

[yuwuta]

omega satoru who purposefully makes himself sick and tries to trigger his own heat after hearing you’re going on a date or something with someone else. there’s such a desperate need to have your attention all to himself. he doesn’t take his suppressants, he goes out of his way into crowded areas where he knows the mix of scents will agitate him and he paws at you all week before your date, each time more desperate than the last until his body finally breaks down and he’s borderline delirious, crying and cooing and nuzzling his nose into your neck and begging and begging and begging you to take care of him, to be his alpha

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Cold Jealousy

I am back once again with more Silco brain rot. Feeding all of you who need the content as well as myself.

Summary: Who knew jealousy was all it took for to have your first kiss with Silco?

He hates the coiling in his stomach that arises whenever you laugh at something a patron says. It sickens him, seeing you lean in so close to another man, your lips moving as you say something and then smile, causing the table to burst into laughter. He knows you're simply close friends with them, after all they are your childhood friends, people who grew up with you, so of course you'd act overly familiar with them but he can't stop his chest from tightening, his fingers twitching.

The nib of his pen pierces through the page he was writing on and he scowls angrily at the mess, trying to drown out your voice but it's intoxicating, a melody that snatches his attention away from the numbers in his notebook. Your laughter is like a drug, leaving him wanting more every time he hears it, and the thought that it's someone else eliciting it drives him insane.

"You alright there?" Vander slides him a glass of scotch, worry clear gentle grey eyes.

"I'm fine," Silco spits back, a little harsher than intended. Of course Vander would notice something was off, Vander knew him way too well. He turns back to his notebook, trying to suppress the whispers that begin to cloud his mind and stares at the numbers, willing them into his brain.

"You know they only have eyes for you right? They don't look at anyone the same way they look at you." Vander glances over at the table where you're currently playing a game of cards, and from the looks of it, losing.

"I know," Silco scowls, stabbing the page with his pen. Vander simply huffs and turns to attend to the customer who just pulled up at the counter. Silco rolls his eyes and closes the notebook, he's done for the night. There's no way he can continue concentrating when you laugh like that, when butterflies flutter in his chest and turn to stone as he remembers you're not laughing at something he said or did.

"I'm going to get some air," he grunts, slipping out the back door.

Out of habit, he makes his way to the rooftop, sitting at his usual spot and looks out at the sprawling underground city beneath. Neon lights flash from various stores like stars, illuminating figures as people walk past but the silhouettes disappear just as quickly, fading back into obscurity. It's the same pattern every night, he's memorised some of the figures already, knows the habits of certain individuals, and has noted the important ones. He spots the lady with twin brown hair buns who frequents the brothel opposite, the two enforcers who always sneak into the nearby drug store during their nightly patrol and nearly misses the sound of your footsteps.

"Hey." You take your seat next to him.

"Y/N." He barely spares you a glance before looking back at the city below. The night wind whistles through the air, sending shivers through his body and he curls up, hugging his knees to his chest. Dammit, he forgot his coat. The air here is chillier at this time of the year, being so far away from the hustle and bustle of the city's nightlife, but it brings a sense of peace that he treasures, especially when it's with you. Tonight, it just feels cold, probably from his lack of a coat, but there's a numbness he can't explain.

The clink of glass snaps him out of his thoughts and he glances up to see you produce a bottle of wine as well as two glasses.

"Sorry, I couldn't swipe a bottle of scotch so I grabbed the next best thing before anyone could catch me," you smile at him and pop the bottle open. The red liquid sloshes in the glass as you fill it up and hand it to him, "peace offering?"

He wrinkles his nose but takes the glass anyways, mumbling a thank you before letting the liquid slide down his throat. It doesn't have the same burn as scotch does, but there's still a pool of warmth that sits in his belly, although it does little to alleviate the chill he feels.

You smile and pour a glass for yourself, taking a sip, following the direction of his eyes. Silco swirls the red liquid around in his glass, biting his lip. The silence is awkward, but he won't be the first to break it, his pride won't let him. Fortunately, you shift closer to him and shrug your jacket off, wrapping it around his shoulders.

"Don't catch a cold on me."

He snorts in response, tugging your jacket tighter around himself. It smells nice, smells like you with a hint of his cigar's smoke. He can pick out the scent of wine, the smell of the soap you use to wash the jacket, the remnants of Piltover's smell from your afternoon stint and a small smile makes its way onto his face as he remembers the way you threw yourself at him, clutching a bag of freshly baked bread, laughing as you yelled at him to run for his life. The pool of warmth resting in his belly spreads to the rest of his body, sending tingles up his spine as he buries his face into the jacket's fabric. The fabric is worn but still maintains a certain level of softness, and it feels as nice as it smells.

He watches as you finish your glass and exchange it for the bottle, remembering his own unfinished glass and takes another sip. Scotch was still the best drink, a shame you didn't manage to filch a bottle of it. You down half the bottle in one go, sighing in satisfaction and gesture at his glass.

"You don't have to force yourself to finish it, you know?"

He scowls, and finishes the rest of his wine, all the while staring right at you. "As if I'll let you have any of mine."

You laugh, and he finds that your laughter sounds better when it's because of something he said than when it's because of something someone else said, besides, there's the added bonus of giddiness that fills him. He smiles, for the first time tonight and sets the glass down next to yours. The awkwardness has been broken, much to his relief and he feels as though he can breathe easier.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" You gesture towards the myriad of lights. "Piltover's lights can't compare to this."

"That's because most of their lights are the same colour," he snorts, "but yes…it is beautiful."

You beam, taking another swig from the bottle and set the bottle down, leaning back on your hands. The night breeze ruffles through your hair, playing with its strands and Silco watches as a couple of strands fall between your eyes, causing you to huff and puff at it until it falls off your face. The next gust of wind is stronger and you shiver, shifting closer to him. He shakes his head and throws the left half of your jacket over your shoulders so it covers the both of you.

"Don't you catch a cold on me either."

"Thank you for sharing my jacket." You roll your eyes, nudging his shoulder with your own. He nudges you back, the back and forth going on for a while until the jacket slips off your shoulder and he leans over to pull it back on. Electricity crackles from where his skin brushes against yours and he feels his heart leap into his throat when he looks up at you, realising how close the two of you are.

Sure, the both of you know how the other feels, knows the unspoken truth but continue to dance around each other, fearful of what acknowledging the feeling would bring, but tonight just feels right. He feels your hand intertwine with his and he leans in, throat bobbing as he swallows hard. You lean in as well and your lips meet for the first time.

The feeling is addicting, Silco quickly learns. The way your lips lock with his perfectly, the way you lean in as his fingers run through your hair, the way your free arm wraps around his waist, pulling him closer, all of this makes him wish this moment will never end. Unfortunately, the both of you need to breathe and so he reluctantly parts from you, pressing his forehead against yours. It feels natural, to feel your warmth, to hold you underneath your jacket, and from the way you're looking at him with such adoration in your eyes, you feel the same way.

It doesn't need to be said, nothing needs to be said, the only thing he needs to do is close the gap once more and taste the wine on your lips, savouring the sweetness of it all. This is the one time he will admit that wine tastes good, but he still prefers scotch.

Your hand gently cups his cheek and he finds himself leaning into the touch. Your thumb runs over his skin, brushing along his cheekbone and he sighs, surrendering to your warmth. A small smile graces your lips and he can't help but smile back, although his smile is rather lazy.

"We should head back before Vander has to come and haul us away," you murmur and Silco reluctantly extracts himself from your touch.

"And before he closes the bar up so that we don't have to wash the glasses." He picks said glasses up, nudging the empty bottle towards you. "You are still going to throw the bottle away, I'm not touching that."

"Why? You were so eager to touch my saliva just moments ago," you tease, mirth decorating your features.

"I'm not about to deny you your responsibilities." He ducks out of the way as you try to shove the empty bottle into his arms, quickly making his way back into the bar before you can succeed in making your problem his. He hears your annoyed shouts behind him and laughs, sliding into the bar's counter.

Vander raises an eyebrow as Silco places the glasses in the sink and darts off, then shakes his head as you come barreling in, demanding that Silco help you as payment for the wine he drank. He grabs the both of you by your collars and drops you both at the sink. "I believe washing everything in the sink will suffice as payment for the bottle of wine."

You groan when you see the amount of empty cups in the sink and Silco laughs, turning on the water tap. At least you're trapped in this with him, the washing should go by faster.

As the both of you hunch over the sink, you give him a little nudge with your elbow. "Next time, if you're jealous, just step in. I'll leave with you, I promise."

"Jealous?" He splutters. "I wasn't jealous!"

"Sure you weren't, Mr 'angrily stabs an innocent piece of paper with his pen'. Keep trying."

He huffs, turning his attention back to the glass he's currently wiping dry. "I wasn't jealous."

"Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that. I doubt that changes facts though."

"Nobody said that was a fact."

You lightly punch him in the shoulder with your damp fist and he mock glares at you, smacking your arm with the drying cloth but can't stop the smile that's forming on his face.

"Don't ever doubt yourself," you say softly. "You mean everything to me."

And you mean everything to me too.

[zyafics]

STAY THE NIGHT | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Oneshot)

Pairing — Rafe x FWB!Female Reader

Summary — When Rafe sees you as just a fuck buddy, you embody the role and remind him what that truly means.

Word Count — 5.5K

Content — 18+, Smut, Jealousy (From Rafe), Dominance Play, Oral Receiving (F + M), Fingering, P in V Sex, Unprotected Sex, Cockwarming, Praise Kink, Fluff At The End

Rafe Cameron doesn't get jealous.

You two aren't a couple. You are nothing more than casual fuck buddies that are conveniently located within proximity of one another when one of you need to blow off some steam or get off. The feeling is completely mutual.

However, you've been exclusive.

It's unspoken, of course. No one is willing to admit that they don't want the other to be sleeping with other people and you settled on that ambiguity.

You thought it could mean something more.

You thought wrong.

The other day, after fooling around, you laid in his bed, wearing nothing, and asked if you could stay the night. As part of your undefined relationship, you don't do sleepovers. Rafe doesn't do sleepovers. However, he was the one who was calling you after midnight. He was the one who wanted you to sneak out of your house, where your parents placed a curfew. If you go home now, you would be caught dead in the act and get into trouble. It would be easier to save yourself and stay over.

"No." Rafe declared, not letting the suggestion linger for more than a second. You lifted yourself from the bed by propping your elbows against his mattress, staring at the man who's searching for his throwaway clothes on the floor and redressed himself. "We don't do sleepovers. I don't want to be caught with a Pogue."

"Rafe." You said with a hint of annoyance. He saw you naked, but he was afraid of being seen with you in public? "It's fucking four in the morning. My parents are going to see me."

He scoffed. "Not my problem."

"So what? You don't care if I get in trouble?"

He shrugged, pulling his shirt over his chest. "You're just a fuck."

You said nothing. You just stared at him. He quickly gets dressed and finds your clothes around his floor, throwing them on the bed for you to take. With a huff, you pull yourself from the comforts and put them on.

"I'll call you." He said as you walked out of his bedroom, but you didn't answer him. All you did was flip him off and make your way out.

The next morning, you got in trouble with your parents regarding your absence. But, you said nothing, taking the lecture they gave you and headed to your room.

And you thought, if he sees me as a quick fuck, fine. I'll be just that.

The next Kook party, you were there. You always attended Kook parties, despite being a Pogue, simply because the alcohol is all free and it tasted better. No more cheap beer on The Boneyard, but you had to admit—the music was better.

Kooks can't play for shit.

This party happened to be on Tanneyhill, the mansion where Rafe lived. You haven't seen him since the last time you hooked up, and it's been the longest you've gone without seeing each other. Sure, he called you but you let it go to voicemails and all his texts were left on read. You know, without a doubt, Rafe would be looking for you and attempting to pull you to the nearest bathroom to fuck your brains out.

But you didn't care.

(Maybe just a little).

After dancing for a while, grinding against random strangers and making conversations with some friends of yours, you settled into a seat next to a Kook. He introduced himself as Ethan, and you chat with him as you drink from your cup, making small talk about what you're doing this summer.

He seemed interested enough. His eyes shamelessly glance down at your top, which practically shows off your tits, and floats back to your lips a couple of times. You knew if you wanted to, he would've follow you to a bedroom and fuck you.

But you didn't.

You laughed at his jokes. You told some of your own.

All while having an nagging feeling of a pair of eyes on the back of your head.

You didn't need to turn around to know who it was. You know exactly who.

And Rafe Cameron is fuming.

He noticed you when you first walked in, in a top that shows off too much and a skirt that covers practically nothing. You walked into Tanneyhill as if you owned the place, despite being a Pogue, and that's one of the things that irritates him about you.

But it also made him attracted to you.

Your confidence. Your demeanor. You never backed down when Rafe tries to put you in your place and you never let him gain control without a fight. He likes that you make him work for it; there's a thrill in the chase. Because he knows, at the end of the day, it's his bed that you ended up in. It's his cock that you're sucking.

But, at this moment, he isn't so sure. Instead of being in his arms, talking to him, you were talking to some random fucking guy who attended Kook Academy and is making you laugh.

You didn't even bother to tell him you were coming.

Rafe thought he could hold it in until he got you alone.

But that was before the guy put his hand on your upper thigh and you let him.

It takes mere seconds for Rafe to cross the yard, and when he comes behind you, it surprises you at how silent he was. "Get your hands off my fucking girl," he snapped at Ethan and before Ethan got the chance to back off, Rafe grabs your arm and pulls you off the chair, taking you inside of Tanneyhill.

You let him drag you for a few moments. The booze in your system is making your reaction sluggish, but when the realization dawns on you, you finally pull away when you reach in front of his bedroom, hidden in a dark hallway.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

He scoffs at your words. "What am I doing?" He repeats. You nod. He jabs an accusing finger in your direction. "What the fuck are you doing?"

You lift the cup to your lips. "I'm drinking."

His eyes are livid. "With that guy?" He gestures outside where Ethan is, jealousy pouring from his words and he sounds like he's using every inch of restraint he has to hold everything together. You shouldn't be enjoying it so much, but you are. When you don't answer him, feigning a bored expression, Rafe gets more frustrated. He doesn't like that you aren't reacting. He doesn't like it at all. "What's your fucking problem?"

You lift your shoulders in a casual shrug, pressing the red solo cup against your lips and says, "thought I was just another fuck."

He knows you were throwing his words back at him. He knows that this is some fucking test that you're doing to drive him bad. He also knows it's working, so much so that he knocks the cup out of your hands, causing the content to spill all over his marble floor. "Fuck you."

You scoff, unfazed by his aggression. "You already did." You say, and while Rafe is silently raging underneath, you decide to take it a step further. Closing in the distance until you're right in front of his face, you smirk, "and you fucking loved it."

Rafe is breathing hard, his blue eyes searching your face, his chest raising and falling in rapid beats as frustration rolls off of him, all while you tip your head to the side, raising your brow, challenging him to respond.

He does.

By slamming his lips against yours.

One of his hands catches the back of your neck as he presses a bruising and punishing kiss against your lips, eliciting a moan from the back of your throat. Instinctively, you throw your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer.

"You're mine." He breathes against your lips when you break apart, trailing kisses down the column of your neck as you tip your head back to give him more access, feeling his mouth working against your skin. "And no fucking asshole from the Academy is going to take you away from me."

Wanting to tease him further, you say. "What if I leave?"

He answers you by sucking on a sensitive spot on your neck, causing you to arch into him and let out an involuntary moan as his free hand descends down to your short skirt and roughly palms your ass. Rafe chuckles against your skin, satisfied by your body's reaction to him. "Then no one is going to make you feel like I do."

His hands move to pull down your top, causing your tits to spill out of the fabric. The cold air pricks at your exposed skin and Rafe takes a beat of a second to admire you before lifting his gaze to meet you in an easy, cocky grin.

"So ready for me," he teases, moving his hand up to play with your hardened nipples between his fingers. You let out a small sigh. "God, you're fucking gorgeous."

"Shut up," you say, not liking how his words are making your cheeks flush with heat and a flutter of butterflies to swarm your stomach. This is just a fuck, you remind yourself. He lifts his blue eyes to meet you for a brief second before descending his mouth down to cover one of your nipples.

You always like playing with yourself there. As his tongue swirls around the sensitive tip, his teeth lightly graze against the bud, causing your moan to echo across the hallway and his hand immediately slaps over your mouth, silencing them.

Rafe's eyes lock with yours. "You don't want anyone to hear what a needy girl you are, do you?"

You clench your jaw underneath his hand, at his dominance, but when you don't answer fast enough, he asks again. "Do you?"

You shake your head and he pulls himself off of you, the cold invades the absence of his heat. But, Rafe doesn't leave you for long. He grabs your hand and pulls you into his bedroom. The moment the door slams close, his lips return on yours and his hands explore over your exposed body.

Your core clenches as Rafe slams you against the back of the door, kissing you hungrily as he lowers his hand to the cutoff of your skirt and pushes the flimsy material up to your hips before cupping your pussy.

"God, you're dripping," he says with a small laugh, looking up to you. "Are you this wet for me, baby?"

You are. Rafe Cameron has a way to make your entire body responsive to him, his touch, his kisses, his everything. But, you don't want to let him know that. You don't know how much you want it, how much you need it.

Instead of answering him, you say with a roughness to your voice, "if you don't fuck me, Cameron, I'll find someone else who will."

Humor leaves his face and his expression hardens. He cups your cunt hard, causing you to involuntary jolt forward into his hand and a small whimper to escape you. "This is mine. No other fucking man is going to touch this but me."

"Big words for someone who hasn't made me come."

His eyes darken and, with your taunting and teasing getting to him, he finally pushes your panties to the side and inserts a rough finger inside of your pussy, causing you to wince at the abrupt motion. "Can you handle it?"

You nod with closed eyes, feeling as he adds a second finger, thrusting in a steady but rough pace, his other hand fondling with your tits.

You lean back against the door with heavy breaths, moaning and clenching as your orgasm builds from his rhythm. Rafe knows your body, he knows you're about to come, and as your moans get more erratic and you grind harder into his hand, he quickens his thrusts. Leaning into you, he says to your ear, "let it out, baby."

You do.

Your walls clench around his fingers tightly as you ride on your high, so much so that you hear his muttered fuck under his breath. When you're slowly coming down from your climax, Rafe removes his hand. The loss of his touch causes you to frown but before you get the chance to open your eyes and complain, he pushes the wet digits against the entrance of your lips. "Suck."

You want to argue back, about him telling you what to do, but you can't seem to help but listen. Your eyes open and find his face, watching you as you suck his fingers clean of your arousal. "Good girl."

When he withdraws his fingers, clarity dawns on you. He's wearing too much while you're practically exposed. You didn't like how uneven the playing field is, and with a gesture to his shirt and pants, you demand. "Take it off."

His smirk is smug. "Eager, aren't we?"

"If I have to be naked, so do you."

"You aren't naked." He gestures back to you and you look down at yourself. While your tits are showing and your panties are soak, he's right, you technically aren't naked. Not afraid of backing down from a challenge, you easily pull your tiny top over your shoulders and push your skirt and panties down to your ankles.

Stepping out of them, you look back to see Rafe admiring your naked body. You can see the outline of his erection straining against his pants, and for a moment, a self-consciousness creeps up on you and you blush. With a hard swallow, you point to him. "Your turn."

The corner of his lips quirks up at how demanding you are and he pulls his shirt over his body, revealing the defined and taunt muscles of his chest underneath. Your mouth waters. You watch as he goes for his belt—knowing you’re watching—that he teases it out slowly. He messes with the buckle, taking his sweet time, that you grow impatient. 

"Goddammit," you mutter under your breath, approaching him and pushing his hands out of the way, sinking to your knees as you unbuckle the belt with ease—practices from all the other times. When you pull it out of his pants, you stop, looking up to Rafe.

"Go on, princess." He gestures, a cocky grin at the sight of you on your knees for him. "Finish what you started."

You hate how much power he has over you this time, how he is telling you what to do, but because of how needy you are, how much you want him between your legs and his cock to be in you, you listen. You unzip and pull down his pants, revealing an impressed bulge underneath his briefs. With one easy tug, you freed his cock and it stood in front of you, hard and leaking with pre-cum.

On your knees, you look up to see Rafe watching you, waiting to see what you do. His eyes are hungry and his arousal is obvious. Tentatively, you wrap your hand around the thick cock, your fingers barely connecting together because of his girth.

And slowly, you rub up and down his shaft.

A hiss leaves the back of Rafe's throat and satisfaction pools in your core at the realization that you are making him feel this way, that you have this much control. "Faster." He commands, his voice thick with desire.

Instead of listening to his orders, you open your mouth and take his cock in your mouth, swallowing the salty taste as you swirl your tongue at his head. Added with the motion of your hand playing with his balls, and rubbing him up and down, Rafe can’t help but rock his hips against your face. 

“Fuck,” he swears, his hand finds your hair and pulls your closer to him, as your grip around him gets firmer and you hollow your cheeks, creating a stronger suction. Rafe groans under your touch, tugging the root of your strands, wanting you to do anything and everything to build him closer to his climax. “Fuck, baby, I’m close.” 

With that pride of information, you slow down, your fingers loosen their pace and you pop the cock out of your mouth. Rafe feels the instant loss of touch and he looks down at you, his expression hard and angry.

"What the fuck?"

"Say please."

He says your name in a command, but you don't budge.

Rafe's blue eyes are hard. He knows you do this. He knows you like to mess with him, take back control whenever you find yourself in a small position of power and remind him of his place. Irritation builds in his chest, this time worse than the others, but so does his delayed climax. He needs it more.

With a reluctant sigh, he says, "please."

You return your motion, moving in slow, torturous strokes as your hand moves up and down his slick length, creating enough pleasure for him to feel but not enough friction to ease into his climax. Your mouth has yet to return on his cock and without the added assistance, his jaw tense and his frustration and horniness builds. 

In a desperate plea, Rafe begs, "baby, please."

His voice didn't sound like his own and his words are so rough, so willing, that you can't help but alleviate him from his misery. You reconnect your lips on his tip and begin to rub his faster, firmer, sucking him harder. With the edge of delay, Rafe comes fast with a guttural groan, spilling in your mouth as you lap over the taste, swallowing all of it.

Rafe lowers himself and guides you back to your feet, pulling you towards the bed and pushing you flat against the mattress, laying on your back.

He lowers himself off the edge of the bed, sinking to his knees as he steps in front of your exposed pussy, and looks up to see the self-satisfied smirk on your face at the little stunt you pulled back there. In a low voice, he says, "you're going to regret that."

A finger drags up your slit, in a slow motion, gathering your wetness on the digit but producing enough pressure that it makes you whine. You try to grind yourself against his hand but he lays his palm on the flat of your stomach, holding you in place. 

When his eyes connect with your needy gaze, he says, “my turn.” 

Dipping his head between your legs, he kisses your inner thighs in slow, agonizing touches. It produces an aching feel to your core as he gives careful attention to both of your thighs, slowly creeping up to your throbbing cunt, but not quite giving you a release. 

Rafe lingers on a particular sensitive spot near your pussy, sucking and kissing the placement until you're writhing in pleasure and frustration, desperate to feel his tongue in you.

"Rafe," you say with a throaty beg and he grins against your skin.

"I said you're going to regret it."

"Yeah, and if you take any longer, I'm going to go downstairs to find Ethan."

Rafe hates it when you mention other men, or even think of other men, especially when he’s fucking you, but it does the trick as he moves between you and his fingers spread your folds. “You are this wet for me, baby, not Ethan,” he reminds you, before lowering himself to your pussy, flattening his tongue against your center before moving up and down in slow strokes. 

“Fuck,” you moan as he finds your sensitive clit and sucks on the nub, the sound of wetness fills the bedroom as the low volume of the music thumps from downstairs. He lets one finger enter your cunt, beginning at a slow pace. “Rafe, ohmygod.”

He moves faster, rougher, lapping out your taste as if he was dying of thirst. With his finger quickening and his tongue working a miracle on you, another orgasm builds. 

“I’m close,” you whisper and he nods. He moves with precision and god, Rafe Cameron is good at eating pussy. When his tongue enters into you and the pad of his thumb rubs circular motions around your clit, you can’t help but arch into his pleasure and come on his face. 

You fall against the mattress with a heavy breath, but Rafe doesn’t stop. He continues to suck and lap and rub, causing you to wrap your thighs tightly around his head. You’re already so exhausted, so sensitive, coming down from your high, but that does nothing to satiate the man between your legs—fingers and tongue buried inside of you, still hungry. 

Your thighs violently shake and your fingers rack through his hair, pulling, “ohmygod, ohmygod,” you moan as he works another orgasm from you, your stomach tightening and the pressure being so unbearable you feel as if you’re going to cave and explode. 

“Come for me, baby, I want another one.” He mumbles against your cunt, the low hum of his voice vibrates through your body in a pleasurable sensation. With a rougher pace and a harder suction around your clit, you come for a second time in a row. 

You’re an absolute wreck when he pulls away and, assessing the damage he caused, Rafe chuckles at the sight before him. You splay out on the mattress, breathing heavily with low lids and the prettiest pussy. He lowers himself, placing both hands on either side of your head to carry his weight, he plants a soft kiss on your lips. 

His eyes set on you, a gentle gaze, and whispers. “Can you take another, baby?” 

Though you are weak from all the orgasms you endured, you still nod, looping your arms around his neck as he descends closer to you, planting kisses against your lips, the corner of your mouth, to the edge of your jawline. You can feel his erection grazing at your entrance, waiting to enter, and the thought itself ignites another round of passion and need within you. 

Rafe pulls back just enough to line his cock against your wet folds. Before he enters, he looks up to you, waiting for a confirmation sign. When you nod, he slowly pushes the length into your aching core and you jerk forward. 

He goes in slow at first, allowing your walls to adjust to his size because, no matter how many times he’s been inside of you, it still takes a moment for your pussy to register that this is him. That this is his pussy. A hiss escapes the back of his throat. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

You, with what little strength you have left, push yourself up as he rocks against your hips, beginning his thrusts. You get closer to him, grabbing his shoulders, while he takes the opportunity to play with your tits. 

This new position allows him to enter deeper inside of you, hitting a new angle, causing you to let out a cry from the explosion of pleasure. In addition to the remnants of the orgasms you had a few moments prior, as Rafe pounds into your very sensitive core, you begin to feel as if you’re seeing stars. 

Rafe leans down, closer to your ear as he asks, "who's fucking you?"

You feel your stomach knot and tighten, knowing he’s getting you close. But, you also can feel his cock twitching inside your walls, alerting you that he’s also getting close. With this dynamic power, you turn your head to face Rafe, connecting your heavy-lid eyes with his. 

“Ethan.” 

Rafe stills. His eyes darken at your words, watching the way your lips curl with an innocent look and he decided he hates it. He hates this little power play you're doing to him, he hates how it's working. He knows that you two are nothing more than fuck buddies, but without the reassurance that you are his—fully, devotedly his—he doesn't know if you haven't fucked another guy before. If you haven't had Ethan's name on your lips.

His hand lowers between the two of you, lightly grazing against your sensitive clit. You jolt into his touch. "Did you fuck him?"

His voice is low, dangerously low, as you watch how serious he turned with the tease of another man's name. You tilt your head to the side, challenging him. "And if I did?"

He pinches your clit and your hips arch forward, but he uses his other hand to grab it still. Your core throbbing while he remains inside of you and does nothing. You realize, in this moment, that you might've gone too far. You feel full and have everything in your possession to make you reach your highest peak but you chose to delay it with a joke that wasn't even that funny.

Especially not now.

Rafe slowly rubs your clit with his fingers, painfully light, teasing and punishing you all in one. You gasp into his touch, but he doesn't let you move. His grip remains firm on your hips, holding you in place as you ache around his cock, as he can feel your walls clench around him, begging to be fucked.

But he needs to hear you say it.

"Rafe," you choke, and his eyes connect with yours. Your eyes are teary, your breathing is erratic, and you are trying desperately to produce some friction between your legs and give you some semblance of pleasure. "Rafe, move."

"No, princess," he says with a deadly calm, shaking his head. "You want to play mind games with me all night, fine. But tonight, I'm going to fucking hear you say my name." He repeats himself with aggression, his fingers skims across your sensitive nub. "Who. Is. Fucking. You?"

You grip his shoulders, your eyes meeting his, and your core aches painfully. You try to grind yourself against him, trying to produce some friction of your own, but he uses both hands to grab your hips, stilling you in place with a deadly grip you are sure is going to leave a mark.

He shakes his head, firm on getting the answer out of you.

With teary eyes, you beg. "Please, Rafe. Please."

He grins with that self-satisfying charm. He loves it when you finally break your dominance. He loves it more when he can break you.

His thrust begins at a slow rate, still on the edge of punishment, but at least you can feel some friction producing between your legs. You look down at his cock entering and leaving your cunt, the image gratifying, but Rafe roughly grabs your chin and forces you to look back up.

"Look at me." He commands, his voice shallow as the slow thrust is killing him, but he needed to teach you a lesson. "I want you to remember this when you're looking at anyone else. Talking to any other fucking guy. Remember how I make you feel."

You nod frantically. Desperate at this point to say anything to get Rafe to move faster, harder, providing you with your climax. He sees it in your eyes, how he finally got you, that it makes him smile. 

"God, look at you," he chuckles. "You want me to fuck you so bad."

"Yes," you beg, "yes, please. I'll do anything."

"Anything?" He asks again, the proposition is too nice to tease out.

You nod, blinking through the tears. "Anything."

He grins at this exchange of power, when he holds all of it, that he finally relents and quickens his pace. You grip harder on his shoulders as Rafe thrusts into you, rocking his hips against yours.

You claw and moan against his skin, using it as an anchor for all the pain and pleasure ripping through you, and he takes it as a mark of honor. When he lowers one hand between the two of you, using the pad of his thumb to rub small circles around your clit, you see stars float in your vision. 

"I'm coming," you pant against his skin. "God, please, I'm coming."

Rafe's hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him, and nods. "Come for me, baby."

When you feel your orgasm hit its all-time high, you slump in exhaustion against his shoulders, while he continues to move in and out of you. It takes a few seconds later before Rafe comes, feeling his hot cum leaking out of you.

He doesn’t remove his cock from your pussy and honestly, you don’t want him to. You want to stay like this for a moment, to catch your breath and come to the dawning realization that this is the best sex of your life. You didn’t want it to end. 

Rafe lays his chin on your small shoulder, pushing your wet hair to the side as he recovers. 

“Be my girl.” He whispers, so quiet, that you thought you imagined it. You weakly pull back, connecting your widened eyes with his. 

"What?"

"Be my girl," he repeats once more, his blue eyes vulnerable and tracing your features to see if there's any hint of rejection on the bay. "I can't fucking stand you with other guys. I don't even want you to say their names. I want you. All of you."

You hesitate. "Rafe..."

"You said you'll do anything." He reminds you.

"You said you don't want to be seen with a Pogue."

He growls. "Fuck what I said," he snaps with a shake of his head, raising his hand to wipe the leftover tears from your face. "I want you. I don’t care about anything else. Just say yes."

You look at him and soften your gaze. You have wanted this, you admit, you wanted him to confess to you that he wants you as much as you want him. But, for a moment, in this brief second, you’re afraid that if you agree you would submit to everything you’ve fought against. The control you tried so hard to retain. 

He sees it. He knows you’re having an internal battle. Using his hand, he cups the side of your face, the heat and comfort of his palm makes you instinctively lean into him. “Please.” He begs softly, giving you one last shred of power. 

With a small chuckle of your own, you finally nod. "Okay."

He grins, and without hesitation, presses another kiss against your lips. This time, it lacks the power and control you two have been fighting for all night but rather is sweet, sensitive and patient. He pushes you back against the mattress, using his arms to hold up his weight. 

When he pulls apart, both of you are out of breath and breathing heavily. He offers you a genuine smile, at how proud he is that you’re his, and uses the pad of his thumb to rub across your flushed cheeks. “God, you’re gorgeous.” 

You blush, waiting to pull away from his touch but Rafe knows you. He grabs a hold of your face, holding you in place so you can’t tear your gaze from him. “I’m serious. Since you’re my girlfriend now, you have to get used to that or else people are going to assume I don’t compliment you enough.” 

You scoff. “You don’t. The only times you say nice things to me is when you’re in me.” 

“Yeah?” He challenges, cocking one of his brows. You nod. “That’s going to change. Prepare for me to shower you with compliments every time I see you,” he says, as he lowers himself and plants a soft kiss on your shoulder blade. “Especially when I’m in you.” 

You roll your eyes, pushing him off as your eyes find the clock in the back of the wall. You didn’t realize how late it was. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. Rafe turns to you, his brows knit together in confusion. 

"What?"

"It's almost one am. I promised my parents I was going to go home at eleven."

He glances at the clock, before returning his gaze back to you. "Stay the night."

"What?"

"You said it would save you trouble, right?" You hesitantly nod. "Just stay the night."

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You can’t believe how much he’s willing to give in now that you’re finally his. Maybe you should’ve made him jealous a long time ago. Your first instinct is to tease him about it, but you decide that you had enough power play. The both of you deserve some rest and plus, sleeping with Rafe would be a comforting feel after the sex you just had. 

When he comes to approach you, settling between your legs as he waits for an answer, you run your hands through his messy blond locks. “Okay.” 

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!