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fastandcarlos · 2 days ago

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End Of The World : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: you were fine that morning, so when lando suddenly gets a phone call that changes his things upside down, it feels as if his world has come crashing down

His heart sunk as Lando tried to get his head around what he was told on the phone. It was a blur of words to him as Lando tried to piece it altogether, tears falling freely down his cheeks. His knees buckled from underneath him as Lando dropped down into a chair, his breath shaky, heart racing as the call came to an end.

He couldn’t quite believe it, your smile the last thing he saw that morning. Yet after being hit on your way to work, Lando’s world suddenly felt as if it was crashing down, hearing that your unconscious body had been transported to the nearest hospital.

“I-I need to go,” Lando stuttered as he stood up from the meeting, rushing out of the building before anyone could reply. Panicked eyes watched Lando, but he was long gone, sprinting as fast as he could out of the building to where his car was parked. The journey was a blur as Lando blinked through his tears, hurrying into the hospital, shouting out your name.

He was stopped by a doctor holding onto his shoulders, noticing how distressed he was.

“Right this way,” the doctor told him, leading him down the corridor to where Lando could find you. “There is one thing that I must tell you first, your girlfriend is not in a good way. There’s extensive damage, most of it physical, which you need to prepare for.”

“I don’t care,” Lando whispered, “I just want to be with her, please.”

As the door to your room opened, a sharp intake of breath came from him. Lando couldn’t believe his eyes as he noticed the cuts and grazes all over your body, the machines around your bedside with cables attached to your body to keep you alive.

“Oh, love,” Lando hummed, rushing to sit down beside you, placing his hand delicately over yours. You were cold, fragile, nothing like the warmth he usually received from you. “I’m here now,” Lando told you, brushing the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand. “She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?”

“She’s stable,” the doctor informed him, standing in the doorway to your room. “The injuries are quite severe; we’re going to have to be closely monitoring your partner for a little while longer before we can make any decisions.”

“Is there going to be any lasting damage? Permanently?”

“Most of her injuries will heal with time,” the doctor tried his best to assure Lando, offering him a weak smile. “It sounds like the driver lost control of their car when they hit your partner’s, she overturned into the road,” he added, watching Lando flinch as he pictured the scene of the crash.

All he could see was your car, with you terrified inside of it. Lando hated thinking about how you felt, how scared you must have been when that impact came, all alone in your car. He could imagine you calling out for him to help you, only he was nowhere to be found.

His free hand continued to wipe under his eyes as Lando continued to study you. He’d lost count of how many marks he found, bruises, scrapes, cuts, not to mention the dry blood that was in your hairline. He wished he could do something, anything, to take the pain away.

The doctor left the room, leaving Lando all by himself with you, giving him the time that he needed. His mind was racing with his own thoughts as his eyes stayed staring down at you, struggling to believe how his life had managed to turn upside down in only a blink of an eye.

“I’m not leaving your side,” Lando whispered as he squeezed your hand, “I promise that you’re going to be alright.”

The lack of response from you sent a shiver down Lando’s spine. Usually you’d laugh, or smile, give him some sort of reaction, but instead Lando was left with nothing from you.

“I hate that you went through this all alone,” Lando added, moving one of his hands to brush over the top of your head through your hair. “I love you, however long you need to I’m going to be there for you. I know I joke about telling you to shut up all the time, but now I really could do with hearing your voice sweetheart.”

The only sound in the room was the beep of the machines, letting Lando know that you were still there. It was a steady beat, which the doctor assured him was a good sign, but the only sign that Lando would take was the one when your eyes opened up.

The hours he spent at the hospital soon became days, turning into a couple of weeks. Lando could hardly remember what the outside looked like as he spent every possible second with you, making sure that you knew that he was right there with you.

When they could, his family and friends would stay with him for a while, even some of the other drivers had stopped by too. Mostly they were there to check on Lando, knowing that he’d no doubt neglect himself as he tried to focus all his energy on you instead.

“There you are,” one of the nurses smiled as Lando walked through the hospital doors again, rushing down the corridor to get to him. “We were wondering if we were going to see you again.”

Lando looked suspiciously across at her, following behind as she walked down to where your room was. “Has something happened?”

“Don’t worry,” she smiled, saying nothing more as they got to the door to your room. “I’ll come and see how she’s getting on in a bit.”

Lando nodded as he opened up the door, placing his phone into his pocket that he held. The regular beeping greeted him, although as Lando’s eyes looked up, his heart stopped as he saw a familiar pair of eyes staring back across at him.

Lando rushed in, taking his usual seat beside you.

“You’re awake,” he whispered, leaning across and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?” Lando fretted, eyes studying you closely.

Your head faintly shook, the amount of pain you were in evident from the expression that was on your face. “I’m fine,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

A sigh came from Lando as he heard just how weak you were for the very first time. “You’ve got no idea how scared I was, I thought I was going to lose you, like the end of the world or something.”

There was a look of disbelief on Lando’s face as he held onto your hand, struggling to believe that you were there with him. It would still be a long recovery for you, but it was the start that he had been hoping for.

“You’ve got no idea how many people have stopped by to visit you,” Lando told you, “I always knew that everyone adored you, but I had no idea just how much, they’re all going to be so happy to hear you’re awake.”

Your smile slowly turned up as Lando spoke, your mind was foggy as you tried to figure how much you had missed, still so uncertain as to what had happened.

“You’re going to be alright,” Lando smiled, squeezing against your hand once again. “I’m going to be with you every single second, I promise.”

“W-what happened?” You stuttered, voice faltering as you looked to Lando to try and make sense of everything and fit the missing jigsaw pieces together.

Lando frowned, “your car was overturned, some guy lost control and went crashing into you, but you don’t need to worry about that, everything is getting sorted.”

Your head nodded as Lando pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I love you,” you whispered as his ear brushed your lips.

“I love you too, I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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moonsgemini · 2 days ago

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nobody knows - rafe cameron

summary: a secret relationship between the kook king the sweet innocent kook & bathroom sex

warnings: 18+, cursing, reader being jealous, alcohol, SMUT, slight choking, semi public sex, pinv

an: hiiii hope y’all enjoy <3 this is a lil shorter than my usual stuff. I need drew starkey bad !! Might turn this into it’s own lil universe

This party was going to kill you. The scene in front of you calling for you to do something irrational. It was almost as if he wanted you to accidentally spill wine on Lindsey’s head.

The way her hand constantly found a place on his bicep has you gripping your glass a little tighter. The friendly smile on Rafe’s lips not helping ease your jealousy. Neither was the way he kept leaning down so he could hear her better, as if they were at a rave. It was a fairly small party for crying out loud there was no need for that.

If you had super powers the entire back yard would be lit up in flames with the way you were glaring at the pair. Of course he also wore that shirt you loved on him. The one you had mentioned on multiple occasions that it was your favorite.

You wished you could go over there and yank him down by the collar and smush your lips against his. Let everyone know that it’s your name he’s moaning at night and his lips and body that have your coming undone almost every night.

You wished everyone knew exactly what was going on between them. Then you wouldn’t have to disguise your jealousy as a head ache. You knew it was because of you that the two of you snuck around but you’re starting to want things to change. You couldn’t stand the sight of your man giving another woman attention.

“Garrett is such a dick I can’t believe I didn’t dump him sooner,” Her friend Nessa mumbled.

She hummed and nodded in agreement while finishing off the last of her wine. Not really paying attention to what her friend was saying.

“You’ve been quiet today. More than usual, all good?” Your friend Nessa asked.

You nodded, “Yeah just have a head ache again.”

“Then lets get you another glass, being drunk will help with that,” Nessa grabbed your hand. She led you back over to the small cocktail bar that was set up which was right past Rafe and Lindsey.

As the pair of you passed them you pretended not to see Rafe. Obviously Rafe’s eyes followed you, not really paying attention to whatever the girl in front of him had been yapping about.

He was trying this new thing where he wasn’t going to be an asshole to people. Unless they deserved it obviously, but it was really fucking hard when all he wanted to do was talk to you. The old him would have just ditched her mid sentence but that’s not who he wanted to be.

He watched as you poured yourself some more wine, your friend going on about something as you nodded along. His pretty girl always being the best listener.

After a minute you said something to your friend before walking into the house. After a few seconds Rafe said something about going to the bathroom and left the babbling blonde behind. He didn’t care he wanted to find you.

When he stepped inside he saw your half empty wine glass on the kitchen counter. He walked down the hall to the guest bathroom and knocked.

“I’ll be out in a minute Ness!” You shouted from behind the door.

“It’s Rafe,” he said.

The locked clicked and the door opened to reveal your pretty frame. You had chosen to wear that dress he loves in the color he loves on you. He wasn’t the only one who chose what they’re wearing for a specific reason. You poked your head out and looked both ways before tugging him inside by the collar of his shirt. He chuckled at your antics

“Don’t you think it looks more suspicious if we’re in here together?” He smirked with a raised brow. In all honesty he didn’t really give a fuck if people saw you two together but he knows you aren’t ready.

You rolled your eyes, “It’s not like you were flirting it up out there with Lindsey.”

His smirk widened at the realization that you were jealous. He liked how around everyone you were always sweet and polite, sometimes even a little timid. But with him it was a different story. He loved the way you talked back to him and rolled your eyes at him. He loved the dirty things that sweet innocent mouth said to him when he was relentlessly fucking you.

“You jealous baby?” He stepped forward so the small of your back hit the counter.

Your scowl deepened as you crossed your arms, “No.”

He reach up stroked your cheek gently. His eyes going down to your lips, “You being a tough girl now. Come on baby you know she doesn’t have anything on you.”

Your scowl softened, “Well it doesn’t matter because it’s not like she knows that.”

Rafe leaned forward and kissed your cheek then your jaw and continued his way down to your pulse point, “I’ll let her know, we can let everyone know princess. I can fuck you right here right now.”

You gasped at his words and at the scrape of his teeth on the sensitive skin of your neck, “Rafe,” you practically moaned.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re too opposed to that,” His finger slipped under your dresses strap and pulled it down. His lips kissing the newly exposed skin as he went down to your chest, “Make you scream my name as I bend you over.”

You wanted to talk back to him but you couldn’t as your eyes fluttered shut. His hands had moved down your waist and to your thighs. Slowly dragging his fingertips up them until he plucked at your stringy underwear letting it snap back against your skin. He made you such an incoherent mess and you loved it.

With everything in you you mustered back a reply, “You sure you want Lindsey to hear.”

He chuckled against the top of your breasts that were exposed. His fingers now pressing against your wet clothed cunt.

“It seems like you want her to hear baby,” He pressed his fingers against your clit and rubbed soft circles, “look at how wet you are huh. My dirty girl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at the sensation. His fingers slipped under your tiny panties and he slid them through your sopping cunt and groaned against your neck, “God I love how you feel.”

You tugged his face up to meet your desperate eyes as you pulled him in for a kiss. You both moaned at the feeling. You loved when Rafe fucked you but you loved kissing him even more. His fingers picked up the pace a little against your throbbing clit. You could feel your wetness dripping down your legs.

“Please let me fuck you right here baby,” He mumbled against your lips, “I’ll do it so good. I’ll make you cum all over my cock.”

That whole being more nice thing Rafe was working on never applied to you. You were probably the only person on the island who had ever heard the kook king say please and thank you. Sometimes he even practically begged to fuck you or eat you out. You lived for it. It made your skin tingle and your tummy flutter.

You nodded your head, “Yes Rafey.”

He pulled his fingers away from you and practically shoved them into your mouth. You loved it though, tasting yourself on his long thick fingers. Your tongue licking them clean. He bit his lip and groaned with hooded eyes. Rafe was utterly obsessed with you.

He pulled his fingers out with a pop and leaned in capturing your mouth in his in another searing kiss. It was sloppy and made your head spin. He pulled away spinning you around. Your hands landed on the counter to steady yourself as he hiked your dress up to your waist.

Rafe gave your ass a firm squeeze and took a few seconds to admire you on this position. He loved that he could still see your pretty face in the mirror, he could see just how fucked you were for him. Your swollen lips, hooded eyes, and messy hair all because of him. It made his heart beat faster and his ego grow. He loves that no one else has known you in this way until he came around.

You watched as he began to undo his pants and pull his thick cock out. You whimpered at the sight of him stroking himself a few times. Grabbing the tiny string of your panties he pulled it to the side before lining himself up with you.

“You’re a fucking dream,” He groaned as he slipped his tip in. The warm wetness of your pussy making him throw his head back. Slowly he slotted himself in you. The feeling of you clenching around him already getting him so close.

“Fuck you’re coming home with me,” He groaned as he began moving in and out.

You nodded with hazy lust filled eyes. You’d do anything he asked of you. The feeling of him stretching you out was out of this world. You didn’t understand how he was always able to hit that spot that had your back arching and mouth forming into an o.

He fucked you as quietly as he could. Rafe didn’t give a fuck if people heard but he knew you did. It’s not like you were embarrassed of Rafe and he knew that. It would just make things complicated if people knew. There’d be constant prying and knit picking at everything you two did and how you acted.

“Oh Rafe,” you mumbled standing up so your back was against his chest. He groaned and wrapped one of his hands around your throat. Your head fell back against his shoulder.

Rafe’s other hand found it’s way to your chest. He pinched one of your nipples and squeezed your breast. He did the same thing to the other one before sliding down your stomach and to your clit. He rubbed circles as he continued to thrust into you.

He moved the hand that was around your throat to hold your jaw. Tugging your head down to look in the mirror.

“You see that baby, He nodded towards your reflection, “see how good you look when I’m inside you. My girl takes me so damn well.”

“I-I mmmph oh Rafe,” you mumbled incoherently but he knew what you were trying to say. He could tell you were close by the way you tightened around him and the way you dripping down him.

“I know,” He groaned, “I’m there too.” A loud moan began escaping you but rafe moved his hand up quickly to cover your mouth.

“Shit look at you, no one will ever compare. Fuck I’m all yours,” He grunted.

Your moans were muffled by his big hand as you came. He wasn’t farm behind as he buried his face in your neck as he came inside you.

“Well we’ve never done that before,” you giggled.

He huffed a laugh, “I’m pretty sure we’ve done that plenty of times before.”

You shook your head, “We’ve never done it in a bathroom at a party.”

He smirked as he pulled out of you and adjusting your clothes for you. He gave your ass a gentle slap, “I should make you jealous more often.”

You rolled your eyes and turned around to face him, “So what if I was jealous.”

He kissed you, “You have nothing to be jealous of. I’m yours.”

You smiled softly as your heart swelled, “Rafe maybe we should tell people.”

His eyes widened slightly, “Really?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement, “mhmm I want to go on dates here in town. I want to be the one who has your attention all night and when I get too drunk you drive me home.”

He smiled, “Sounds perfect.”

After fixing yourselves to look presentable again you opened the door and led Rafe out not really thinking. But before you could even step through the doorway you were face to face with Lindsey who had a scowl on her face.

“Finally,” she rolled her eyes but then she saw the person standing behind you, “oh that’s where you disappeared to?” that scowl never leaving her.

Rafe nodded with a smirk, “My girl needed me.”

You blushed as you stepped past her with Rafe’s hand in yours with smiles plastered on both your faces.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron fic

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lamiadrowned · 3 days ago

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what if Jinx had an affectionate girlfriend? I want to assume Jinx is touch starved so having a girlfriend that loves cuddles and holding hands is a dream come true

*:･ﾟ✧ jinx with an affectionate girlfriend

jinx x fem!reader | sfw

i love her so much :(

it would take her a bit of time to get used to this dynamic.

her entire life, she’s never put much thought into relationships, nonetheless ever believed she’d end up in one, and she’s so happy she did!

especially with someone who seems to love her so deeply, despite how chaotic and difficult she can be at times.

the first few times you guys go out together, you’re always touching her, and she picks up on that quickly. you’re either holding her hand, fidgeting with her fingers, placing your arm around her waist, or playing with the loose strands of navy blue hair that frame her face.

she has no complaints. it makes her feel… warm. safe. appreciated.

but she doesn’t really think of reciprocating this until a small altercation between the two of you.

one day, you’re sitting on the edge of her workbench, listening intently as she shows you the scribbled blueprint of a new invention she’s working on. you can’t remember the name and you have no idea what any of it means, but you’re nodding like you understand so that she’ll keep talking.

“alright, what’s the problem? is it something i said?” she asks you suddenly.

you tilt your head. “what?”

“don’t play dumb! you haven’t touched me at all today!” she grumbles. “you’re always touching me. i mean, did i do something wrong? or–”

“jinx.” you cut her off firmly. “stop that. you didn’t do anything wrong.”

she looks stumped. so, you continue. “i don’t know. it’s just… you never do it to *me,* you know? it’s always me, touching you. i thought, maybe, you didn’t really like it. something tells me that’s not the case.”

your explanation is met with silence, and she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

she can’t believe you feel that way. this whole relationship thing is new to her! she had no idea her own self doubt could end up hurting you the way it did.

her first instinct is to apologize. to reassure you that, going forward, she’d be sure to give you as much as you give her, because she really does love the affection.

in no time, she’s just as cuddly as you!

each night that the two of you spend together is spent wrapped up in each other. legs crossed over legs, arms tangled with arms, faces pressed to chests with a constantly growing need to be closer to each other.

i saw somebody else post something about this, but she’d definitely be the type to say something like ‘i wish i could crawl inside you’. she truly can’t get close enough once she learns how good it feels.

and one of many good effects of this is that when she’s having a particularly bad day, you can calm her down in an instant.

if it happens to be one of many days where she’s hearing voices, seeing things that you can’t see, berating people who aren’t really there, all you need to do is put a hand on her shoulder to make her aware of your presence. it’s grounding enough that you can pull her into a tight hug and stroke her hair as she cries into your shoulder.

if it’s one of those days that she’s just angry, where she feels like everything is horrible and everyone else is rotten, you can change her mind in less than an hour by simply leading her to bed and convincing her to lay down for a bit while you undo her braids and scratch at her scalp.

when you play with her hair, it makes her melt, so you’re careful to preserve that effect– you only do it when you feel like she could really use it.

and as for you, if she finds out you’re having a bad day, jinx has learned from the best and she puts her knowledge to good use.

if you’re alone, she’ll pull you into her lap and caress your back, guiding you to rest your head in the crook of her neck because she knows how much you love to be there. if you want to talk about it, she’ll listen. if you don’t, she’ll pick a random topic to ramble about in hopes to take your mind off of things.

if you’re in public, she’ll grab your hand and squeeze it, stroking your palm with her thumb.

unless it’s somebody in particular that’s bothering you. she has no second thoughts about leaving you for a few minutes to go teach them a lesson. either way, the problem gets solved.

given how long she’s gone without any sort of physical affection, it’ll all be very new to her for a while, but jinx is a quick leaner.

sooner than later, your relationship starts to feel more like a constant competition over who’s more touchy and who can get the last kiss.

it’s so mushy! she hates it.

(she loves it).

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane jinx #jinx #jinx x reader

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classyrbf · 1 day ago

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THREE'S A CROWD...OR IS IT! — GOJO + GETO

SYNOPSIS...gojo and geto don’t mind having a third, it adds to the fun of their relationship if you know what I mean

INFO...gojo x geto x fem!reader, poly(?), riding, anal, recording, fingers, squirting, reader is a complete horndog, praise, degradation, oral (m!receiving), double penetration, creampies, overstim, quite literally filthy just pure filth, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

“Look at how she’s riding you, Suguru. She’s so fucking desperate to cum,” Gojo lets out a breathy laugh, gripping the flesh of your ass while you slam your hips down on Geto’s throbbing cock. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve came already, jumping back and forth between both of them. “Come on, pretty, arch your back more and work for it.” He lands a harsh slap against your ass, humming to himself as he watches the way your pussy creams around his boyfriend’s cock.

“Such a greedy little thing aren’t you,” Geto rasps, looking up at you with a lustful gaze. “Putting on such a show—nnngh fuck.” He grits his teeth, your pussy milking his cock, fluttering around him. He’s so deep inside you, it feels like your entire body is melting, completely on fire. No matter how tired you were, you just couldn’t stop cumming.

“Mmmph, fuck I’m close! Yes, yes!” You whimper, biting down on your lower lip when you feel your orgasm building. The pressure becoming all too much to contain. “Fuckkkk!” Your body shakes above him as clear liquid leaks from your sopping cunt, soaking your thighs.

Geto lifts you from his cock, holding onto your waist as he allows Satoru to rub his slender fingers along your leaky slit. With your legs still quivering, you find it hard to hold back your whimpers as both men laugh in your ears, so satisfied with the way you were permanently slutted out for them. Gojo coos, rubbing your swollen clit in circles as a means to tease you. “More, more, please.” You grip onto Geto’s broad shoulders helpless, digging your nails into his skin. And when you feel his fingers slide into your aching hole, you let out the most lewd cry known to existence, both men’s cocks twitching greedily.

Geto’s large hands spread your ass, holding it open for Satoru as he fingers you tight pussy, creaming all over his fingers as he pushes up against your g-spot over and over at a rapid pace that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Awe, Satoru, I think you made her go stupid.” He huffs with a smile, grabs hold of your jaw and holding your face up like some trophy. “What a pretty dumb thing you are,” he whispers in your ear, his degrading yet praising words went straight to your pussy. “You like being ours?” He pressed a wet kiss to your jaw as you nodded, eyes fluttering shut.

“You’re gonna make me cum again!” You squealed, breathing heavily as your gripped onto Geto’s muscular arms. “Oh my g-god!” Your entire body shivered with pleasure as you came around Satorus fingers, earning a warm giggle from him as he toyed with your soaked cunt. Before you knew you it, you went limp from the sheer amount of exhaustion, but god were still so turned on, still so hellbent on cumming more and more.

“Taste yourself on my fingers, baby. Come here.” He guided your head slightly upwards, grinning at the way you obediently stuck out your tongue and took his fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. You stared up at him hazy eyes, moaning around his finger until you let them go with a pop. “You’re fucking dangerous,” he uttered under his breath. He reached his hand down, stroking his dick slowly from the base to the tip. “Spit on it for me.” You gathered all the spit you could, spit right onto his dick no matter how messy or sloppy it was. Gojo couldn’t handle himself anymore, snatching you from Suguru and pushing you down onto the floor. “Join us.” He looked at his raven haired boyfriend who had a smug look on his face.

Geto stood to his feet, grabbing his phone from off the nightstand to record the moment that was about to happen. He couldn’t believe a pretty girl like you was so excited to suck two dicks at once. You were gleaming, a cheerful smile on your face as he hit record. “That’s its, baby. Look up at the camera for me while you suck it.” You slapped Geto leaky tip on your tongue while still jerking off Gojo before switching sides and doing the same.

“She’s such a fucking tease,” Gojo groaned as he grew impatient, leading him to grab a fistful of your air and shove his dick down your throat. Your eyes immediately went wide, gagging around his thick length while he fucked your face. “Your throat feels so fucking good. Fuck.” He tosses his back, sweet moans filling the room. Your eyes grew teary before he pulled you off of his cock, strings of saliva coating your lips while you gasped for air. “Messy fucking girl.” Satoru slapped his dick on your face.

With his hand still full of your hair, he guided your mouth to Geto’s pulsing cock, watching the way you eagerly stuck your tongue out as you took him down your throat. A soft groan left the man’s lips, clenching his jaw when you wrapped your hand around his base and bobbed your head up and down. “Good girl. Keep it up.” He hissed when he hit the back of your throat. You released him from your mouth, dragging your tongue down his veiny shaft, licking and sucking on his heavy balls while Gojo bucked his hips into your hands.

Your eyes veered over towards Gojo, smiling up at him before doing the exact same thing to him. You could tell he was more sensitive on his balls than Geto was, moaning louder when he felt your tongue on his balls, his eyes rolling into the back of his when you took one then in you mouth, gently sucking on it. “God, you’re so slutty.” Even though his words may have been harsh towards others, he said it with the utmost lust and appreciation. His hands cupped your face as he bent down and kissed your lips, sloppily dragging his tongue over your bottom lip and sucking on your tongue.

He lifted you with ease, pushing you back onto the plush bed, your head falling into the messy comforter. All while Gojo was making out with your and trailing his hands over your body, Geto was setting up his phone on the nightstand, grabbing lube from the bedside drawer. You were completely unaware of what they wanted to do with you, but at this point there was no going back. “We wanna try something with you.” Gojo kissed along your jaw, licking at the skin on your neck, ghosting his fingers over your cunt.

Gojo flipped you over to you were on top of him, kneading the plush flesh of your ass your rubbed your wet pussy up and down his shaft. A little yelped escaped from your lips when you felt a cold substance on your ass, looking back to see Geto, smirking down at you with a lube bottle in his hand. “I’ve never done anal,” you said worriedly, but god the idea of it sounded so hot. You’ve always seen it in porn and always wondered how good it felt but you knew it’d take some time before the stinging stretch would dissipate.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” His fingers massaged the lube around your rim, making sure to get it nice and wet. “We’ll take good care of you.” He rubbed the lube over his dick as well, biting down on his bottom lip as the mere thought of him and gojo fucking you at the same time. He couldn’t wait to see turn into a complete mess before them.

“Yeah,” Gojo smirked, “we got you.” His hands cupped your ass, spreading it open wider for Geto as he rubbed his swollen tip against your hole. “You can take it, right, baby?” Gojo landed a swift spank on your ass causing you to jolt.

“Y-yeah, I can take it.” You nodded at both of the men, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt his fat head press against your ass. “Oh my god!” You gasped, gripping onto the sheets below you. “Fuck!” The stretch made you wince and you pulled away from Geto to get a small break.

“Take it nice and easy.” He rubbed his hand up and down your back as Gojo placed sweet kisses on your cheek. You could feel him push in again, feeling his head make it through. “Ahh, shit,” he breathed, sucking in a breath.

“Mmmph!” You bit down on your knuckles, feeling Geto add more lube to help slide in easier. Slowly you could feel every inch of his enter inside of you. The stretch hurt, but damn did it feel good. “Nngh!” You cried, feeling Gojo grip onto you tighter until Geto was fully inside of you, resting for a minute. “You’re inside. I can feel it so fucking deep!”

What you didn’t expect was Gojo to lift your hips just high enough to where he could slide his cock inside of your pussy. With wide eyes you stared down at him, mouth agape as you inhaled deeply. They were both inside of you and without even moving, without even making you cum, your head was already spinning. You felt so full of them, succumbing to the feeling of how deep inside you they were.

And once they started moving, you let out the most wanton moans, falling forward on Gojo’s broad chest as Satoru thrusted his hips upward and Geto slammed his against your ass. You couldn’t even form words to express the amount of bliss and ecstasy you were feeling coursing through your entire body. “Pussy is so fucking wet. God, you feel so good. Yeah, take it like the slut you are,” Gojo grunted, harshly grabbing your ass before spanking it a few times.

Geto was mesmerized at the way you were taking both of their cocks, watching the way they slipped in and out of both of your holes while sat there and took it, body limp and staring in a fucked out haze like you were drunk on their cocks. And you were. You drunk, high, whatever it is, you were. “You like it, baby? Hm? Speak to us, pretty girl. Let and me and Satoru hear those moans,” he huffed, gritting his teeth when he pressed deeper into you.

“I love it! I love it so fucking much!” You cried. “Feels so fucking good, so deep inside of me! Fuck, I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum! I’m—” Your body began quivering as a deep guttural groan escaped your lips, the orgasm being so intense that your entire body felt like it froze up.

Gojo couldn’t withstand the way your pussy was clenching around him, milking him effortlessly with each thrust. His thrusts grew sloppier and faster as he chased his orgasm, before thick ropes of cum painted your velvety walls. “Goddamn! Fuck me, baby.” He moaned, holding onto you tightly as he pushed his seed deeper inside of you, fucking you nonstop.

“Keep going! Keep going! I wanna cum again! Please!” You begged, the sloppy sounds of your squelching pussy and skin on skin bounced off the walls of the bedroom.

Geto’s hips trembled as reached the brink of his orgasm, powering through it as he came inside you, still slamming his hips deep inside until his cum was leaking out. “Fuckkkk!” Geto let out an animalistic growl.

With all three of your sweaty bodies pressed together, and the mess of all of your cum mixed together, the filthy scene and thought only made you more turned on, more desperate. “Don’t fucking stop. Oooh, I’m gonna cum again. I’m gonna cummm—ahh!” You let out a scream of pleasure as your body quivered with such intensity, your orgasm taking over completely.

“You take it so fucking well, baby.” Gojo murmured against your ear, panting heavily as he pounded his cock into you. “You want us to cum inside you again, huh? Fill up your holes?”

“Yes! Yes!” You cried, gasping for air. “Oh my god!” Your eyes crossed and rolled back before Geto pushed your head down into the mattress. You bit onto the comforter, trying to suppress your moans but it was to no avail. Geto leaned down towards his boyfriend, pressing his lips to his as they sloppily made out while simultaneously pounding you. As if on cue, both of them could feel their orgasms approaching, swallowing each others moans. Before you knew it and they knew it, they were both cumming inside of you at the same time, breathy curses and moans shared between them.

For a minute they both stayed inside of you, all three of you trying to catch your breath before Geto pulled out first, looking down as he admired the way your hole was pulsating and his thick cum spilled out. Satoru did the same, pulling you off of his cock while his cum dropped down your folds and onto his balls. Your body felt weak, but you found the strength and roll off of Gojo and onto the bed where you were still trying to catch your breath.

Both of them cuddled beside you, pressing kisses to your jaw as they meekly smiled against your skin. “You doing alright, sweetheart?” Geto asked, tracing his fingers down your abdomen.

“I just need to rest because…holy shit.” You breathlessly chuckled.

They laughed with you, sharing your exact same thought. “You did amazing,” Gojo chimed in. “I can’t r thank you enough.” He locks eyes with Geto. “We can’t thank you enough.” He pulls you for a kiss but this time is sweet and soft, not heated and sloppy like before.

Geto pulls your gaze his way, also kissing you, pressing his lips against yours longer. “I almost forgot.” He sits up and grabs his phone off the nightstand, ending the recording. “Good memory to keep.” He teases.

“Shut up!” You shyly turn away from him as he was just pounding your ass just minutes ago.

“You know I can’t resist teasing you.” His lips curl into a smile.

“Is there anything we can do make it up to you for this?” Gojo asked, running his thumb over your bottom lip. “You were such a good girl we have to repay you.”

You thought about it for a second, staring at the ceiling. “Um,” you paused, “a nice hot, bubble bath with candles and some good food. Like that after sex food that hits the spot.” You smile, sharing looks between both of them.

“As you wish.”

#—☆classyrbf #jjk #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo x geto x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #gojo x geto x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader smut #geto suguru x reader smut #jjk gojo #jjk geto

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cheyisagirlkisser · 1 day ago

Note

i really really need pitfighter vi being mean to reader during sex🙏

Too real she needs to blow off some steam and reader has a thing for getting degraded. They match each other's freak soooo well.

Content: 877 words, strap-on sex (r! receiving), multiple + forced orgasms, overstimulation, choking, degradation kink, dacryphilia, use of degrading names, spanking, hair pulling

Vi is deep inside your guts, her cock slamming into you over and over again without even a second of mercy.

She has pulled three orgasms out of you already, and she has no intentions of stopping yet.

Your face is buried in the sheets, the only pillow being used underneath your stomach so you can feel the way Vi is pounding into you so hard you swear her silicone shaft is gonna be imprinted into your pussy.

You try begging for mercy. Vi slams harder into you and delivers a harsh blow to your ass cheek.

"You want me to stop now? Is that what you want?"

You're too cock-drunk to answer, only gurgling out a broken little whine.

"Listen here, baby," she gathers your hair into a ponytail and yanks it back, forcing you to look back at her, "you deserve to get fucked hard for what you pulled earlier."

You whine, knowing it was true. She thrusts into you even harder after being reminded of how you looked all smug with some random creep offering to pay for your drink. She releases her grip on your hair only to dig her black nails into your hips.

"You wanna go flirt with other people to get my attention, huh baby?" She pulls out, making you think she is finally through with you, before she slams her thick cock right back into your tender pussy. Then, one of her hands leaves your hip and strikes another harsh smack to your ass, her handprint branded into the fat. making you cry out and grasp the sheets. "Well, mission accomplished."

You know you look a mess, tears running down your face and your mascara staining up the sheets. Your hair is all tangled from Vi grabbing onto it so much so she can force your head up or to just treat you like a bitch. You let out breathy little cries every single time her harness meets your ass, only to feel the raw heat of overstimulation when she grinds up against your g-spot.

You can feel your fourth orgasm of the night bubble up within your pussy. You think one this may actually give you a heart attack, but it feels so fucking addictive.

You don't even know what's wrong with you; you always do this to Vi. Go slut around to the guys at the Zaun bars so she will get jealous and wreck your pussy. It's not like it is cheating, you two are only fucking and she likes the game just as much as you do, but she sure fucks you like she hates you. Even if you don't know it yet, she owns you completely. Even if you're not her girlfriend yet, your pussy? It belongs only to her. Nobody else gets you.

She eases the shaft out of your dripping pussy and flips you over onto your back before you can even protest. She pulls you by your legs further back so the pillow underneath you is perfectly situated for her advantage, and then you realize why she flipped you over when she hand grasps at your throat.

Her other hand guides the cock back into your pussy, earning a broken moan from you that sounds almost wounded, but the greed in your eyes tells her you're not tapped out yet. Her fingers wrap around your neck, squeezing tightly as she pumps her cock deep inside you once more. Her hand reaches between your bodies, harshly rubbing at your clit and flicking at it with her calloused fingers.

You start to cry when your orgasm finally crashes over you. It is somehow even more intense than the others. Maybe it's the view of Vi's pretty face, her pigmented black makeup trailing down her cheeks or the hunger in her eyes. It is most likely the hand around your neck knocking the air out of your lungs.

Wave after wave after wave. Vi isn't lenient, even as you sob. It feels so euphoric to get fucked so roughly, and she at least knows you well enough to see the look of raw pleasure making your eyes roll back into your head. She knows just how to treat your needy pussy, how to make it satisfied until your walls are tender and your clit is swollen and abused in the best way possible. You cum so hard it truly hurts. It hurts so good.

She talks you through it all, coaxes your juices out of you in the worst way possible.

"Bet the dickhead from the bar couldn't fuck you like this?"

"Yeah, baby...cum all over my dick. You like my fake one better than his real one, huh?"

"You don't fucking deserve to cum."

When you come down, she does stop. She can see that you're finally satisfied, and so she pulls out. She doesn't even pull the strap-on off of her hips, only falls limps back onto the bed.

After a few minutes, she hears you speak up. "Vi..?"

"Yeah?" Jeez, you sound as wrecked as I do, Vi is what you're thinking.

"Can you do it one last time? Please..?"

Vi snorts and sits up. "Your stamina is so fucked," but she is already back between your legs once more.

#vi x fem reader #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi smut #cheyisagirlkissermailbox #requests #arcane smut #arcane

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 days ago

Text

Sunshine [11] - Blast

AN: My loves, thank you so so much for your wonderful support and lovely comments and HCs! ❤️ You’re amazing! ❤️

I hope you like this as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! 🥰

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Summary: Every break up has an aftermath.

Word Count: 4244

CW: Explicit language, angst, adult themes MDNI

Series Masterlist

The month after your brutal breakup hadn’t been so easy.

When Theo was around, you made sure he didn’t notice anything. His happiness was the most important thing for you, it had been that way ever since he was born, so you weren’t going to ruin it. Every weekend, you pretended you were incredibly happy and that nothing was wrong at all, despite the heartbreak you were going through.

Your friends were the only people who knew just how sad you were, and they had formed a very united front to change that.

“We have found the one.”

You pulled your brows together as you filled Jamie’s cup while Nik gave you a proud smile and Julie sat up straighter, repressing a squeal.

“You two are dating, so you’ve already found ‘the one’” you used air quotes, making Nik roll his eyes.

“Not for us!”

“And Julie would’ve told me if she found the one.”

“I’d also be shouting it from the rooftops, but this isn’t about me.”

You threw your head back. “I’m not gonna go on a blind date.”

“Hear me out,” Jamie said, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “This guy has been approved in the group chat.”

“What group chat?”

“Our group chat.”

Your jaw dropped. “You guys have a group chat without me?”

“Yes because it’s being used purely to find you your Mr. Right.”

“And we know it’s been only a month since you and Logan broke up but fuck Logan,” Julie added. “I’ve been carrying a magnet in my purse ever since you told me about your break up, just in case I run into him.”

Nik turned to look at her better. “You’re joking.”

Julie grabbed her purse and took out a small horseshoe magnet, making your eyes widen.

“I don’t play about my threats,” she told Nik. “That motherfucker broke my best friend’s heart, so I’ll point this magnet at his—”

“Where did you even get a magnet like that?” you cut her off and she shrugged.

“I googled it.”

“I’ve only seen these in cartoons,” Nik mused, reaching out to get the magnet from Julie before Jamie cleared his throat.

“Our point is,” he said. “You’re better off without Logan, and I think you’d really like this guy.”

You heaved a sigh, resting your elbows on the counter.

“Guys I really appreciate all the effort,” you said and stole a look at Julie. “And the magnet but—seriously, you know how much I hate blind dates.”

“Well does it count as a blind date if we show you his picture?” Nik asked, getting the phone from Jamie before turning the screen so that you could see the picture.

Even you had to admit, he looked cute. It was as if Jamie had decided to find you someone the complete opposite of Logan; he seemed younger than him -around Jamie’s age if you weren’t mistaken-, he had dirty blonde hair, and just from the picture alone, you could tell he was the type of person who liked to smile, a lot. Judging by his white coat, he worked in the same hospital Jamie worked in, and you stole a look at him.

“Your coworker?”

“He works in ER,” Jamie said. “Saved a kid’s life the other day.”

“And I’ve met him,” Nik said. “He’s like a cute puppy but also a badass.”

“And he is very handsome, you like handsome,” Julie sang tauntingly and you ran a hand over your face.

“I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not over Logan yet.”

“The best way to get over someone is good sex,” Julie pointed out. “We’re not telling you to move in with the guy. We’re just telling you to just…go on a date and see where things go.”

“And it could help,” Nik said softly. “You know, distracting yourself from your ex.”

You bit inside your cheek, then clicked your tongue.

“Ugh, fine,” you muttered, making them grin. “But if I don’t like him, I’ll leave and you guys will delete that group chat. Alright?”

“Deal.”

One of the things you hated about blind dates was that you always got incredibly nervous right before. The urge to text them and stay in instead would always get the best of you—now to think of it, the only person you didn’t get that urge with was Logan.

Well.

Logan was out of the picture, and you had to deal with that.

But if anything, at least Jamie knew this guy and was friends with him, so the odds of him being an ass was pretty low.

You pulled over in front of the restaurant before checking your phone to see whether it was in fact the right place, then slipped a little in the seat. This was by no means your first rodeo but…

You really wanted to just go home and get under covers and listen to Julie’s break up playlist.

“Worst case scenario, you’ll just have one drink and go back home,” you muttered to yourself. “Come on soldier.”

You checked your makeup in the rear mirror, then got out of the car and locked it before you smoothed out your dress and made your way to the restaurant. The hostess greeted you and after you gave her your name, you followed her into the restaurant.

Oh, he was already there.

If Logan wasn’t at the back of your mind, you were sure that you would’ve been excited. He really was a good looking guy, the smile that appeared on his face upon seeing you looked very genuine, and the fact that he jumped on his feet to greet you was a great sign.

However—

Okay no, you were not going to think about Logan tonight, not at all.

“Hi!” he said and you smiled back.

“Hi,” you said and you extended your hand but he went for a hug before he paused and made a move to shake your hand but this time you were the one who went for a hug, so you gave him a curt hug before pulling back.

“Jesus—sorry, that was awkward,” he said and you tried to control your giggle at the look of slight regret on his face.

“No worries,” you assured him and he gave you a tentative smile.

“I’m Hayes.”

You introduced yourself as well before the waiter pulled your chair for you and you thanked him, then sat down. Hayes followed you suit, then motioned at his wine glass and the appetizers.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“No no, not at all,” you said and looked up at the waiter who put the menu in front of you. “Can I get the same as well? Thank you.”

Waiter nodded and walked away from your table, and you turned to Hayes.

“Uh, hi again.”

“Hey,” he said with a chuckle. “So uh…blind but not so blind date?”

“Sounds about right,” you said. “I mean I saw your picture.”

“So have I.”

“Jamie showed it to you?”

“Technically no.”

You blinked a couple of times. “How’s that?”

“Jamie has a picture of you and your whole friend group on his desk,” he admitted as the waiter brought your wine and you thanked him. “I saw your pic there and I asked about you in a way that was very subtle in my opinion but Jamie disagrees.”

You raised your brows, smiling slightly. “You’re not serious.”

“It was kind of like Jamie was an app and I was fervently trying to swipe.”

A small laugh escaped from your lips and you covered your mouth. “Oh my God…”

“Am I giving off serial killer vibes?” he asked to no one in particular. “Because I swear I save people for a living, that’s not—it’s just that you are very pretty and I’m very rusty when it comes to all this.”

You lowered your hands to give him a bright smile.

“You’re very sweet,” you said. “I didn’t think you were rusty.”

“No?” he asked and let out a breath. “Thank God.”

“It’s been a while?” you asked him after a moment of hesitation and he hummed.

“Listen, rusty or not I know talking about previous relationships is a red flag.”

“I don’t mind,” you said. “Let me guess, you had a long relationship and…?”

“And walked in on her and my best friend.”

“Ouch.”

“Former best friend.”

“Still ouch,” you said with a grimace. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I mean—I changed cities but it has to be for a good cause. At least that’s what I’m choosing to believe.”

“Sounds like a good plan.”

“How about you? I find it hard to believe you go on blind dates if I’m honest.”

“Oh I’ve gone on blind dates,” you assured him. “And uh—my friends have made it their life mission to matchmake me, they apparently have a group chat where they approve people.”

Hayes pulled his brows together. “Holy shit, I’ve been approved in the group chat?”

“Yes you have,” you said. “Congratulations.”

“I feel very validated,” he mused, making you giggle. “No seriously, knowing Jamie, this is the same as passing a very difficult exam with a jury.”

“Yeah he’s very protective, especially after—” you stopped yourself and Hayes shot you a lighthearted look.

“Hey, I talked about my ex.”

“Well, I got dumped,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “And Jamie never approved of him, so now he’s like extra careful.”

Hayes hummed and lifted his wine glass slightly.

“Well, on behalf of all men in this city, we’re all very glad that your ex is an idiot.”

You scoffed a laugh and lifted your glass as well.

“Yeah well,” you trailed off, trying your hardest to not let your thoughts drift to Logan. “So you’re an E.R. doctor?”

“I am,” he said. “And you?”

“Oh I…I’m just a waitress,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders, that feeling of inadequacy hitting you out of nowhere once again. “Nothing too exciting.”

“Do you like where you work?”

“Yeah, I’m friends with everyone there except my boss,” you said. “It’s pretty nice. And you? I heard you saved a kid’s life the other day.”

A bright smile appeared on his face. “Yeah, that’s why I like working in the E.R. I can actually make a difference in just seconds, you know? It makes me feel alive, like I’m doing something right with my life.”

You nodded your head. “I can imagine. Sounds wonderful, really.”

He sipped his wine.

“So tell me more about you,” he said. “Jamie says you have a son?”

“Yeah!” you said, your eyes lighting up at the mention of Theo. “Yeah I do. Theo. He’s the cutest kid in the world, and I’m very objective about it.”

That made him laugh. “At first I thought Jamie was a father, with all the drawings in his office…”

“Oh he still keeps those?”

“With all due respect, it’s like a shrine in his office.”

“You should see his and Nik’s fridge, they have like one picture there and the rest is Theo’s artwork.”

“Really?”

“He had his artist phase, now he’s—” you started but were cut off when your phone started buzzing. You gave him an apologetic look.

“Excuse me,” you said as you grabbed it out of your purse, but as soon as you saw the name flashing on the screen, your heart dropped.

Logan.

A part of you -the petulant part of you- wanted to reject the call but you took a deep breath, then licked your lips and then answered.

“Hello?”

There was a second of hesitation on the other line before he cleared his throat.

“Theo is fine,” he said. “But he needs you here.”

Your head shot up. “What? What happened?”

“There was a small accident—”

“What accident?” you asked, your heart leaping to your throat as fear crashed down on you. “What—is he—”

“Like I said, he’s completely fine, I promise,” he said, his deep voice soothing your fear as always. “He had a nightmare, his powers took over and he blew up the wall in his room accidentally but he’s fine and so is everyone else. He locked himself in the basement though, and refuses to come out.”

You could feel your throat tightening but you took a shaky breath, then nodded as if he could see you.

“I’m on my way,” you said and hung up before turning to Hayes.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, pushing your phone into your purse. “Theo is…he’s in a boarding school in the city but he—he had a nightmare and he locked himself in the basement.”

“Oh I’m sorry,” Hayes said, frowning. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah,” you said despite the anxiety churning your stomach, then stood up. “But I need to go, he must be terrified.”

“Of course,” Hayes stood up with you. “Would you like me to drive you there?”

“No no, I can drive,” you said. “I really appreciate it though, thank you.”

“Oh it’s nothing, really,” he said. “I hope he’s feels better.”

“Sorry, again.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he said. “Is it okay if I get your number from Jamie?”

“Sure!” you said. “I’ll—I’ll see you around I guess?”

“Have a nice night,” he said and you gave him a curt smile, then made your way out of the restaurant, your heart beating in your ears.

If it were any other time, you would’ve been nervous to see Logan after a month, for the first time after your break up but you were so worried about Theo that it didn’t even cross your mind that Logan would be the one to greet you.

Which, of course he was the one to greet you by the door. He probably took your scent the moment you drove through the gates.

He looked almost frozen the moment you stepped out of your car but he recovered very fast.

“Hey—”

“Where is he?” you asked without so much as glance in his direction as you walked past him into the mansion and Logan easily caught up with you.

“In the basement,” he said. “Follow me.”

When you two got to the basement, Storm and Jean were already there.

“Hey, he’s totally fine,” Jean assured you the moment she saw you and Storm nodded her head.

“We could’ve opened the door but we didn’t want to scare him any more than he already is,” she assured you. “He only said he wants you, and now he’s not talking to us.”

“But he’s not hurt in any way,” Logan added. “I don’t smell any blood or pain, and Jean already checked his mind.”

You raised your brows, then took a deep breath.

“Thanks,” you said and smiled at Storm and Jean. “Really, thank you so much. I can take it from here.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said and swallowed thickly. “It’s not the first time this happens.”

Storm and Jean exchanged glances before Storm turned to you.

“I’ll just go and check the other students then.”

“And I’ll fill Charles in,” Jean said, squeezing your arm in a reassuring manner before they both walked away and you ran a hand over your face, then walked to the door of the basement and knocked softly.

“Bean?”

The only answer you got was a sniffle, breaking your heart to smithereens. You could feel your own eyes burning but you frowned, forcing yourself to focus.

“Bean, are you there?”

“…Yes,” his small voice reached you and you took a deep breath.

“You think you can open the door?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“I know,” you said, nodding fervently. “Everyone has bad dreams, it’s completely normal. And what do we do when we have bad dreams?”

“We have hot chocolate because that makes them go away.”

“Exactly,” you said. “So can you open the door please?”

“People will be angry at me.”

“What? No!” you said. “No one will be angry at you, I promise.”

“Mommy, it was an accident,” he said, a hiccup escaping him and you rested your forehead against the door, squeezing your eyes before swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I know,” you said. “And so does everyone. No one is angry at you—Logan, is anyone angry at Theo?”

Logan came closer to the door so that Theo could hear him better.

“Not at all,” he said. “If anything I’m a little jealous. Blasting walls is so badass, I’d love to be able to do that.”

“You hear that, bean?”

“Really?” Theo’s hopeful voice reached you and Logan smiled slightly.

“Sure bub. And hey, turns out we’ll have to decide on your superhero costume sooner than you think.”

“There you go,” you said. “Superhero costume sounds fun—”

A meow cut you off, making you tilt your head.

“Bean, is there a cat in there with you?”

“…No.”

Another meow reached you and you raised your brows.

“Theo.”

“I found him here and we’re friends now.”

“Okay,” you muttered more to yourself. “Theo—”

“His name is Sir Bartholomeow,” Theo added as if it was imperative that you knew that information and you heaved a sigh.

“Very creative bean, but can you please open the door? So that we can drink hot cocoa and I can meet your friend?”

There was a momentary hesitation and another sniffle before you heard the lock turning and you took a step back so that you could see him better. Theo was still in his pajamas, his glasses slightly crooked over his face as if he had put them on in a hurry, his wide teary eyes looking up at you. In his arms, he was holding probably the grumpiest looking cat you had ever seen in your entire life so tight that it was a wonder why the cat wasn’t trying to escape. A breath of relief left you and you crouched down to get to his level.

“Hi bean,” you said gently. “How about we give your friend to Logan so that they can be friends and I can make sure you’re okay?”

Logan stepped closer. “Yeah bub, I can take the cat—”

“Sir Bartholomeow,” you and Theo said at the same time and Logan cleared his throat.

“Yeah, him.”

Theo sniffled again before tentatively handing Sir Bartholomeow to Logan, and you checked whether he was hurt anywhere before pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Theo was still shaking like a leaf and he mumbled ‘mommy’ before burying his face to your chest while you stood up with him in your arms.

“I’m here,” you said softly, still holding him tight. “I’m here, it’s fine. I swear everything is gonna be fine.”

Theo never liked being away from you and that turned into a whole different level whenever he had a nightmare. You would be lying if you said you weren’t relieved to have him in your sight so after he drank his hot chocolate, you had carried him to bed and stayed with him until he fell asleep, humming the lullaby he used to love when he was a baby.

There it was again.

Times like these, you always remembered just how utterly alone and clueless you were in this whole thing.

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes as you looked down at him, then leaned in to kiss his head and pulled the covers over him, and walked out of the room as quiet as a mouse.

The mansion was mostly quiet, and even though you could still hear the voices coming from the kitchen, you desperately needed to be alone in case you burst into tears, so you walked through the hallway to step outside, the cold wind hitting your face. Heaving a sigh, you made your way to the stairs to sit down, and wiped at your eyes furiously before wrapping your arms around your knees, fixing your gaze on the stars glimmering in the sky.

You heard the front door open before the familiar footsteps came closer and you felt him drop his jacket over your shoulders before he sat down as well.

“Hi Logan,” you rasped out, sniffling and he offered you a hesitant smile.

“Hey,” he said, putting the bottle of whiskey between you two before he made a face. “Shit, I forgot to bring glasses.”

You scoffed a laugh. “We’ve done worse things than drinking from the same bottle.”

“Right,” he said after a beat and you grabbed the bottle to take a swig, grimacing at the burn before putting it down again.

“How’s your arm?” he asked and you took a shaky breath, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Healed,” you said and turned to look at him better. “I don’t even think about it anymore.”

He was too smart to miss the double meaning of your remark and his lips twitched for a moment.

“I’d bet,” he muttered. “Fun date then?”

You pulled your brows together in confusion and he nodded at you.

“I haven’t seen you in that dress before and you smell like someone else.”

You smelt like—

Oh. Hayes had hugged you.

“I don’t have the capacity to get into that bullshit right now,” you stated and Logan swallowed thickly, then nodded again.

“Right,” he said. “Of course.”

For a minute, the only thing you could hear were the crickets and the sound of the faint wind in the air before Logan take a deep breath.

“He’s fine, princess.”

You bit at your nail, blinking back the tears before you shook your head.

“No he’s not,” you said. “You and I both know that he’s not fine. Not really.”

“He’s too powerful,” Logan said. “Accidents like these will happen, you can’t really avoid them. What matters is that he hasn’t hurt himself or anyone else.”

You took another sip of the whiskey.

“Having you here helped a lot too,” he said. “He calms down when he sees you, that’ll be good for him.”

You clicked your tongue.

“Yeah, for now,” you muttered and Logan frowned.

“For now?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Until he grows up and hates me for everything I’m doing wrong as we speak.”

“That’s not true.”

“No no it is, I’m fucking up big time,” you said with a dry laugh. “Jesus, my mom said I had no idea what I was doing and I was too busy arguing with her that I didn’t even see it but it’s true. I have no clue.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong.”

“I’ve been doing everything wrong,” you told him, blinking back the tears. “He’s too little to see it now, but sooner or later he’ll see that everything that happened to him is my fault, even the fact that his powers showed up—”

You had to stop talking when your voice cracked and you tried to swallow the lump in your throat, sniffling again. He reached out for a second as if he wanted to wipe at the tears falling down your cheeks but then paused, pulling his hand back, his jaw clenching like he was in pain. You wiped at your eyes furiously, letting out a shaky breath.

“I’m terrible at this,” you said, nodding to yourself while Logan kept his burning gaze on you.

“I promise you, you’re not,” he said. “Theo adores you, and I think you’re the best parent I’ve ever seen in my life which in case it has escaped your notice, that’s a lot of years.”

You raised your brows, wiping at your nose before you cleared your throat and took off the jacket to place it into his lap, then stood up with Logan following you suit.

“I can drive you home,” he said and you threw your shoulders back, trying to pull yourself together.

“I had like three sips of whiskey, I can drive.”

“I can still drive you, it’s been a long night.”

“I’m fine.”

“No I want to,” he insisted and you tilted your head, giving him a questioning look. His eyes met yours before he took a deep breath.

“I just…” he trailed off. “I want to—I want to make myself useful.”

You frowned, staring at him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t ask for anything, just…like I said. I want to make myself useful. I need to make myself useful.”

Your stomach did a flip as a painful smile curled your lips.

Oh.

This. You were familiar with this.

You had been through the same. You were in fact going through the same right now, frantically looking for something to ease the pain. Your solution was to follow your friends’ advice and try to date around, ignoring the way it just felt wrong when you were still in love with him, and Logan—

Logan was dealing with it in such a Logan way that it was almost ironic how you didn’t see it coming.

“It’s not going to help,” you said, your voice a mere whisper and he gulped, his jaw clenching.

“It could,” he managed to say through his teeth and you sniffled, shaking your head.

“It won’t,” you rasped out. “I’m sorry, it won’t.”

The agony that flashed over his handsome features twisted at your heart but you managed to smile at him.

“Good night Logan,” you murmured and walked away from him, painfully aware of his eyes following you.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #deadpool #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan wolverine #logan x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james howlett #logan howlett imagine #logan x you #james logan howlett #logan xmen #wolverine logan

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traveler-at-heart · 1 day ago

Text

Undercover

Summary: Natasha and you play a happy couple for an undercover mission.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

-----

It’s mortifying.

As you lay in bed, looking at the ceiling, the moment replays in your head over and over and over again. How you wish you had an off switch for your brain.

This is supposed to be an undercover mission, and yet you can’t keep your true feelings hidden from Natasha.

Undercover as a married couple, no less.

Today, while you were sitting in the living room of your “newlywed home”, reading a book, Natasha approached you. Her hand rested on your shoulder.

“I’m going out for a run” she had said. You nodded absentmindedly, taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

“I’ll start dinner now”

And it wasn’t until you heard the door shut, that you snapped out of it.

You didn’t have to pretend inside the house. There was absolutely no reason for you to kiss any part of her like that, no one was watching.

Your cheeks flushed and your palms began to sweat. Feeling stupid and exposed, you tried to cook dinner, finding it hard to focus on what to do.

If Natasha noticed the slightly burned meatloaf, she didn’t comment on it. Even as you downed your wine quickly and poured yourself more, she remained stoic and acted as usual.

The night went by in a blurr and now you’re staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. Natasha is in the study, doing surveillance and thank God, because sharing a bed after what you did today?

Impossible.

How do I get myself in these situations?

—

“The Maggia” Fury said, looking around the room. There were only five people there, which told you this was an important mission. “What do you know about it?”

“Family of criminals, from Europe, mostly Italy. Loose alliance at that, each family just stays out of the other’s way” you casually said. Hell, you could go on and on about them for much longer.

“Someone does their homework” Fury nodded.

“Show off” Natasha leaned forward, whispering in your ear. The contact sent a shiver down your spine, but you tried your best to hide it.

You feared your best wasn’t very good.

“Their operations consist mostly of loan sharking, narcotics and prostituion” Maria continued. “But, we recently recieved intel that the family in New Jersey is playing something more dangerous”

“Potentially, HYDRA and the smuggling of Trinium”

“What’s Trinium?” Rogers, who had been following in silenece, finally intervened.

“Incredibly rare element and highly explosive if exposed to a special charge”

Of course, it was always about blowing something up.

“We’ve located the leaders of the Jersey family. You two will be sent immediately to start the undercover mission, as the timeline indicates that the purchase will happen in less than three months. Sorry for not getting you a gift, but your wedding was done in such a rush” Fury slid down the files towards you and Natasha.

You took it and were about to hand it to Steve, since he was sitting behind you, but Fury just chuckled, shaking his head no.

Maria had to bite the inside of her cheek to not laugh at your shocked expression, while you turned to look at Natasha with wide eyes.

“Oh, darling, I’ll make you so very happy!”

—

Just your luck, Natasha decides to stay and work from home on Friday. Your plans of eating junk food and wasting away watching reality tv to feel better after your slip up are down the drain.

Instead, you are out gardening. It’s part of the cover, you insisted since you moved. What kind of person would not make an effort to improve their house? One they were planning on living in for years to come.

And truly, you had outdone yourself. In the month you’d spent here, the grass went from dry to green, all kinds of flowers blooming thanks to your hard work and the knowledge provided by years of helping your mother.

It doesn’t matter if the sun is burning your skin or sweat is dripping down your back, you absolutely cannot spend the morning inside the house with the woman who you have a crush on, and who probably knows your true feelings now, thanks to that stupid, stupid…

“Hey” her voice snaps you back to reality, looking up to meet her green eyes, soft and gentle.

“Hi” you reply from your place in the ground, wiping your forehead. “What’s up?”

“You’ve been at it for hours now, and it’s getting too hot. Come get some rest”

“It’s fine, I just need to…”

She calls your name, more of a plea than a warning not to argue with her and you sigh, standing up. As you go up the porch, she hands over a glass of cold lemonade and you take it, realising that you were very much in need of some refreshments.

“What are you doing?” you mutter when you put the glass down, and she takes her hands in yours.

“You’ve been acting strange since yesterday”

“Natasha”

“Did you act on instinct?” she asks, her lips inches from yours.

“Y-yes”

“That’s what a good agent does. You act natural. It’s not something you put any effort in. You don’t drop the cover under any circumstance”

She is throwing you a life line, a gracious way to salvage some of your dignity -if you have any left, that is- because you both know, you are not that good of an agent.

“She’s walking towards the house” Natasha warns, your back to the street. You don’t look behind you, allowing the redhead to pull you into a heated kiss that steals your breath.

“Hey, neighbors”

You turn around, Natasha’s hand falling to your lower back. Waving at Beatrice Costa, the both of you fake smiles. It’s still hard to believe this regular looking woman is leading a criminal organization next to her husband.

“Your garden is looking spectacular!” she admires.

“Thank you, Beatrice. I’ll stop by to give you some flowers when the hydrengeas bloom”

“As long as your wife doesn’t get jealous” the woman jokes, and you feel Natasha’s hand snaking around your middle, pulling you flush against her front.

“She does” the redhead says in a teasing manner, making your neighbor/suspect laugh.

“Anyways, I came to invite you two over for dinner tomorrow. To thank you for last week”

“Oh, it was no bother, really” you say, smiling.

“I insist. Eight o’clock?”

“Sounds great” you nod, and once she says her goodbyes, Natasha turns you around in her arms, still not letting go of your waist.

“See? It’s working. You’re doing great. Nobody questions us” she eases your nerves over what happened yesterday.

Nobody questions you because you are really in love with her, that’s the truth.

“What are you doing?” you say, your breath hitching when she leans over, about to kiss you.

“She’s still around” Natasha says, letting you close the distance to meet her lips.

By the time she drags you back inside, so you can have lunch, the only thought in your head is the feel of her lips in yours.

—

It had been a simple ruse, so simple that it was a wonder it worked.

Natasha made sure Beatrice’s car would malfunction. She always parked outside, and you made sure to be Natasha’s lookout as she drained the battery.

Morning came, and true to her routine, the woman was ready to leave home when the luxurious Mercedes Benz refused to turn on. It just so happened that you were running by, and as any good neighbor would do, offered to help.

What a coincidence, your wife knew enough about cars to fix the issue and send the woman on her merry way.

Beatrice was too polite and too rich to waste the opportunity to thank you -and flaunt her wealth- so next morning she stopped by with a tiramisu from the most expensive bakery in town, to thank you both.

And fuck, it was good tiramisu.

Now, she would greet you and Natasha when either one of you would run past her house (part of your intelligence operations).

Four weeks after the start of the mission, and it had finally paid off, as you received an invitation into the lion’s den.

“So, what’s our game plan here?” you say, looking over yourself in the vanity mirror.

“Enjoy the evening” Natasha says, smiling at your reflection.

“What?” you turn to look at her, confused. “We’re gonna be inside their house. We could bug it”

“Their phones are tapped. That’s all we need. And the man’s computer. But maybe I’ll excuse myself and break into his study”

“That’s too dangerous” you protest. Even if they act like normal people, they’re life long criminals with an extensive network. And you don’t feel prepared to take over anything if Natasha’s compromised. “Could you not?”

“If you have any idea on how to hack into their financial system, sure”

You huff, annoyed at her bored tone. As if she’s not risking herself over something that can be done a million other ways.

“Nat, I don’t want anything bad happening to you. We’ll find another way, ok?” you insist, putting on your heels.

“Ok, darling” she nods, as a spouse would do to calm their crazy wife and you glare, but take your win.

Without another word, you prepare to leave the room, when you feel her arms around your middle.

“What are you…?”

“Clothing tag was out” she says, fixing your sweater. “There. Perfect”

Her words, accompanied by a squeeze to your stomach make your head fuzzy. Clearing your throat, you nod and go down the stairs, picking up a bottle of wine from the kitchen counter.

“Trust me” you say when Natasha gives you an inquiring look. “Ready to go?”

“After you, sweetheart”

As you walk down the street to the Costa residence, Natasha takes your hand, running her thumb over the back of it. She might sense your nerves, or is apologizing for before. Either way, you keep a light conversation until she knocks on your suspect’s door, her arm firmly around your waist.

“Welcome!” Beatrice says, ushering you into her home. It’s elegant and big, but not too flashy or pretentious. “And what do we have here?”

“Just a little gift. It’s actually one of the bottles we got from our honeymoon” you take the lead, your hand in Natasha’s as you navigate the luxurious home all the way to the dining room.

“Oh, this is close to the place where my family is from originally”

Oh, what a shock. It’s not like you know everything there is about the Maggia, along with the history of the Gulf of Naples.

While Beatrice goes to the kitchen to check on the food -made by their staff, of course- Natasha looks around the room. You know that inquiring look, as she evaluates every threat and possible complication should you be compromised.

To help her ease into the environment, you take her hand in yours, feeling less exposed because you’re in front of other people who should believe your relationship is real. The mission is the only way you can justify your desire to feel Natasha’s touch.

By the time Beatrice comes back, Alessandro is right behind her and he introduces himself. His clothes scream old money, and the watch on his wrist screams fucking loaded of ilegal money as well.

“This wine is magnificent” he comments when you sit down and begin to eat.

“Le Lune del Vesuvio” you say, looking at Natasha across the table. “We spent our honeymoon in Italy and I just had to drag Nat to Pompeii for a tour”

“Are you familiar with the region?” Alessandro asks and you nod, having practiced everything.

“Yes, I did my dissertation on cultural identity in Pompeii”

“She’s a genius, my wife” Natasha says with a smile, impressed at how much detail you’re putting on everything to keep them engaged.

“Well, Beatrice’s family, the Fortunatos are from the same area. The Costas are from Sicily. So we are very happy to hear that you know it so well”

“How did you two meet?” Beatrice pivots, and Natasha is happy to answer.

“I was working on a client’s divorce settlement and needed an art expert. Y/N was the only one with the knowledge to help our lawfirm. A divorce brought us together” she says, looking at you with a smile.

Such a romantic.

“Oh, that’s lovely. Well, not for the divorced couple. But not everyone can get a happy ending, I suppose” Beatrice says.

It’s your turn to ask the usual questions and Natasha acts surpirsed, following up the way any normal person would, as if you don’t know every single detail about their lives and criminal record already.

When the conversation pivots to Alessandro, you perk up. This has proven to be the hardest part of the mission, as he keeps a tight leash on all their financial records through obscure third parties.

“You know, I also teach some finance classes. Would you be open to giving a lecture on art appraising? I think it’s an interesting market” he turns to you.

“That would be interesting” you say, groaning internally. Now you’re gonna have to actually work on a presentation, for fuck’s sake. Nobody told you you were gonna be quizzed to this extent during the mission.

Natasha hides her smile with the glass of wine, and you kick her under the table. Her smile fades just a little, but you can still see the teasing in her eyes.

She’s having too much fun with this.

—

The next morning you wake up to a note from Natasha. She’s picking up a “special” package, which means she’s coordinating with Maria the next stage of the mission.

You’re surprised to find a bouquet of flowers adorning the dining table.

Natasha is doing her share of the mission and you have to focus on yours, which is the fucking presentation. There better not be a Q&A session or you’ll lose your damn mind.

Moving to the study that also works as a surveillance room, you pull out your computer and begin to work. To be fair, you enjoy art enough to know more about it than the regular person. You had also been in contact with appraisers and auction houses back in your Interpol days, as you tracked ilegal art dealers.

For obvious reasons, you can’t mention that bit.

You’ve been working for a couple of hours when you hear the front door open, Natasha hurrying up the steps.

“Hey” she says with a frown.

“Everything ok?”

“You didn’t answer my text. Have you even taken a break to eat?” she puts down a heavy box in front of you.

“Sorry, I was preparing for the lecture”

“I got you your favorite food for lunch. And did you see the bouquet?” Natasha insists.

“Uh, I did… but is there a reason for…?”

“You seriously don’t remember?”

“Is it our fake first date anniversary, baby?” you tease, leaning forward. Natasha’s so worked up it's almost comical.

“Y/N, it’s your birthday”

“What?!” you turn to look at the calendar. “Holy crap, how could I have forgotten my own birthday?”

You are so focused on the mission, this completely slipped your mind. What were you supposed to do any way? Being undercover meant cutting off contact with the rest of the world. The timing sucks, but work is your priority right now.

“Work on that thing tomorrow. You should be resting and having a special day”

“Nat, it’s fine. It won’t be the first or last birthday that I’m stuck at work” you sigh, rubbing your eyes.

“Please?” she reaches for your hand, and the gesture is so gentle that your heart skips a beat. Natasha is very serious about taking the day off.

“Ok” you nod, and the hint of a smile can be seen on her face as you take her hand. She gets plates for the both of you and even agrees to watch Project Runway, which she loathes and you love. Without either one of you noticing, you end up across the couch, your legs on her lap.

“Our dinner reservation is at seven” she says, her hand going up and down your thigh.

“Dinner?”

“What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t take you to dinner?” Natasha smiles, making you blush.

“Well, no one really knows it’s my birthday, so…”

You leave out the most obvious part of how her logic is flawed: you are not even married.

“I know it’s your birthday. Come on. Just let me spoil you once?”

You clear your throat and nod, afraid that if you speak, your voice will give away how much those words affect you. Natasha telling you she wants to spoil you?

That alone is the best birthday gift you’ve ever gotten.

—

It’s honestly a lot more than you could have asked for. The restaurant is beautiful, the food is amazing, and Natasha is looking at you in that special way that makes you feel so happy and confused at the same time.

If you didn’t know any better, you could have sworn you saw love in her beautiful emerald eyes.

“How’s your food?”

“Here” you take a forkful of your pasta and offer it to her.

“Really good. Almost as good as the one we had in… where was it? Naples?” Natasha teases, and you smile.

“That’s the city. The whole region is actually really beautiful… maybe I should take some of that time off and travel again” you ponder, thinking about how life has been all about work for the past years.

“Where would you go? Aside from Naples?”

“Sorrento, Lecce, maybe Positano. I don’t know, I guess I’d spend it around the south, just because the food is that good” you sigh, dreamily.

“How come you know so much about it?” Natasha inquires, smiling softly.

“My parents owned a house, because my grandparents were from Salerno. So we’d all spent every summer there, until they sold the property” you explain, letting the waiter take your empty plate. The memory of hot days, cold water and delicious food comes back to you, coupled with the places you’d visit, driving everywhere with your family.

“So, maybe you were destined to be on this mission” Natasha says, smiling.

“I don’t know if destined or it was Fury messing with me” you slip up, hurrying to take a sip of your wine. He had teased you endlessly about your crush on Natasha, and he was probably laughing his ass off as he prepared your identities.

“Whatever it was, I’m happy we’re in this together” Natasha admits, smiling to you.

“Me too” you agree in a low voice. Then, you look at her and smile mischeviously. “So, since it’s my birthday, can we get a nice dessert?”

“I’m already on it” Natasha raises her hand, the man bringing a plate with a slice of chocolate cake and a candle. “Make a wish”

What could you possibly wish for? You wanted to spend time with Natasha, get to know her, have her look at you the way she was doing right now.

Your wish was granted already. Still, you smile, and lean forward to blow out the candle.

—

“Maybe this is a bad idea”

Natasha is hovering. Hovering and following you and asking all kinds of questions while you prepare your bag.

“It’s gonna be fine” you say, again.

“It’s too risky”

“All I have to do is place this phone next to his computer” you lift the device that Maria sent. “And we’ll have access to his files”

“What if he notices?”

“I better run fast then” you joke, but Natasha doesn’t laugh. “I’m a SHIELD agent, not a history nerd with no fighting skills”

“Except you are a history nerd” she mutters and you turn to glare at her.

“You know what, Romanoff”

“Can I at least drive you there?”

There’s a moment of hesitation on your side. Does she think you’ll screw up the mission? Or is she actually worried about you? Either way, she looks conflicted and there’s no reason to not give her some peace of mind.

“Alright”

On the way to the lecture, you review your notes, missing the way Natasha smiles at the things you’re saying about the subjective value of art and how it has changed throughout history.

Such a nerd.

“I’ll be in a cafe monitoring everything. Call me when you’re done and I’ll pick you up”

“Yes, darling wife” you say with a slightly mocking tone, the same way you always call her your wife in public, but with no one else around.

As you exit the car and walk towards the university, Natasha calls for you.

“I didn’t get to wish you good luck” she explains, pulling you close and kissing you softly. “Good luck”

“T-thanks” you say, out of breath.

Natasha nods, letting you walk as if she didn’t just do the sweetest thing in the world.

You try not to think about how much you’ll miss this when the mission’s over.

But now you have to stay focused.

Alessandro waves his hand in the air, and you walk towards him with a smile.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this”

“It’s not a problem, really”

It totally is, you criminal motherfucker.

“Oh, I forgot my laptop, could I use yours? I have the deck on a flash drive”

Alessandro hesitates for a second, but his mask slips back to place instantly. If you really were a regular person, you never would have noticed his concern.

It means he keeps everything hidden there.

“Sure. Let me just…” he quickly types his password, and you look around the classroom, pulling out the phone and placing it on the table next to his computer. “All set”

“Thank you”

As the slideshow is projected in the auditorium, you look around the room, feeling more confident.

“So, how much would you guys pay for a banana taped to a wall?”

—

“I’m telling you, he keeps everything there” you say to Natasha, browsing through the device. “There’s some encryption, though”

“My expertise”

“Show off”

“Let’s get something to eat” she changes the subject.

“You don’t wanna go back home and check if it’s working?”

“I think a few hours won’t make a difference. We won’t be long, detka”

You think Fury would disagree, but she’s calling you detka and your gayness outweights your sense of duty.

“What are you in the mood for?”

“Anything you want”

“Pizza”

“Anything but pizza” she says, making a face and you laugh.

“Natasha!”

“Sushi” she proposes.

“Fine, sushi it is”

The evening is spent talking about everything but the mission, and by the time you’re driving back home, all you want to do is get in bed and sleep.

“Where are you going?” you ask when Natasha walks to the study.

“You did your part, now I have to work” she explains with a smile.

“Fine” you close the door to the bedroom, joining her in the study. “Either way you’re gonna wake me up when you come back to bed. Might as well help you now”

“Sure” she says, even though you know next to nothing about code and hacking.

While she works on the computer, you look at the window, yawning and stretching in the couch.

Natasha finds out that Pluto is the banking organization they use for their covert operations. To access the accounts she needs a code-string of numbers.

“How many numbers?” you ask, half asleep.

“Six”

“Not coordinates. Could be dates. Most of them like to write down the dates of their oldest founders' tombstones anywhere they can, like a fucking tramp stamp” you joke, falling asleep. “Get into the database and try those”

“Maybe…” Natasha begins to say, but when she turns around you’re snoring.

And what does she know, you are right, the key to the algorithm is based on tombstones’ dates. Talk about morbid.

“Nerd” Natasha says affectionately. Deciding it is enough work for the day, she closes the laptop, helping you up to your shared bedroom.

Truth is, she’s not ready to finish this mission.

—

The end is near, you both can tell. With the encryption finished and the communications that you have intercepted, SHIELD has enough to arrest them.

According to the conversations you recorded, the exchange is set to happen two weeks from today. So you have two more weeks of fake domestic bliss. And then back to being just colleagues.

“I’ll be home as soon as I have a response” Natasha says.

“See you later” you say from your spot in the couch.

“No good luck kiss?” she jokes, referring to the time she said goodbye to you before the lecture.

But you’re not messing around when you stand up and place a chaste kiss on her cheek. If these are the last two weeks you get to do this without being questioned, you’ll make the most of them.

“Be safe”

“You too” she smiles, squeezing your hand.

The sun is setting, but you don’t feel like cooking anything or watching television. Instead, you decide to go out for a run, passing by the Costa mansion out of curiosity.

“Hey, neighbor” Beatrice greets with her signature wave. She often looks like royalty waving at the commoners. “Want some refreshments?”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m just out for a short run”

“Come on, you could use some rest! I’d love to hear how the presentation went”

Feeling cornered, you nod, stepping foot inside her mansion. Beatrice has a glass of lemonade ready, which surprises you, but you take it and sip slowly.

Damn, even her lemonade tastes amazing.

“Heard those students were fascinated by your presentation” she encourages you to speak, and you nod, the movement making you a bit fuzzy.

“It was fun… yeah”

“Everything ok?” Beatrice comes close to inspect your face, and you try to step back. Your leg gives in, so you end up on the floor.

“I’m not sure…”

It isn’t until the very last second you understand the woman drugged you.

—

Everything is upside down or so you feel as you struggle to open your eyes.

“See? I told you she’d be fine”

“Oh, shut it. We’ve been waiting for hours” a man says and you blink several times. Their names come back to you slowly.

The mission.

Was your cover blown?

“Y/N, dear, I do apologize. My wife may have overdone it with the clonazepam” Alessandro says. You try to move, but your hands are tied behind your back. “Yes, about that. Don’t worry, we won’t keep you here for long. We just really need to use your connections in the art world to smuggle a tiny, tiny thing”

Good news (for you). The cover is safe.

Bad news (for them). Natasha is gonna kill them.

It looks like you’re in an abandoned warehouse, and judging by the sound, it’s close to the river.

“Yeah, uh… look. I don’t know how to say this, but you’d be better off crossing the border, whichever one. South, north”

“I’m not following” Beatrice says.

“Well, I’m afraid Natasha’s gonna kill you when she finds you two” you grimace, almost feeling sorry for them. They truly don’t know what’s coming.

“No offense, but I think a Maggia family will be more than safe from…”

“The Black Widow?” you say, with a smug smile.

“Bullshit” Beatrice snaps, pulling you by the hair. “Stop the nonesense and help us out. Or we’ll send you home to your loving wife in a body bag”

There’s a loud crash outside of the warehouse, and a widow bite is shot close to Beatrice’s foot as a warning.

“Hands off my girl” Natasha says, gun raised and pointing at Alessandro. “You ok, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Sorry for missing dinner”

“It’s fine. We’ll heat it up when we get home” Natasha jokes. With a nod, you throw yourself to the floor, shattering the chair. Beatrice throws a couple of punches, and she’s quite the fighter.

While Natasha is engaged in battle with Alessandro, the woman escapes and you’re following close behind. The drug is still in your system, and you can tell by the way your steps are a little clumsy.

Beatrice leads you to the edge of the river and you catch up to her out of breath.

“It’s over” you say, hearing Natasha step right behind you.

“Cap’s got the other one. Let’s bring this one in” she says, walking past you. She fails to see the gun that Beatrice is hiding, and you push Natasha out of the way. The bullet passes between you both and you launch your body against Beatrice, knocking her down.

Still, your diziness makes you lose your footing and you fall to the river.

“Rogers, Hill!” Natasha calls over comms, borderline hysterical. “Someone come in”

“I’m here, Romanoff” Tony says, flying over the redhead.

“What the hell took you so long?”

Tony’s suit scans the river and finds you.

“She’s ok, I’m getting her out now. Handcuff our suspect there”

Natasha turns to glare at Beatrice, punching her so hard she’s knocked out.

“Bitch” Natasha says, handcuffing her.

Maria approaches to make sure Natasha doesn’t kill Beatrice, while the redhead sprints towards the spot where Tony drops you off.

“Are you ok? What hurts?”

“J-just cold” you mutter, holding on to her hands.

“Let’s take her to the Medbay. Romanoff, stay so you can lead the rest of the mission” Steve says.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” Natasha screams so loud that every agent on the scene turns to look at her. “I’m going with her to the hospital, I don’t give a crap about your mission, Rogers”

“Tasha, I’m fine” you insist, but enjoy the way she pulls you against her, her hands on your lower back. Natasha kisses the top of your head, leading you to a car that will drive you to SHIELD’s medical facility.

Fury turns to look at Hill, amused.

“Remember our little bet?”

Maria rolls her eyes, annoyed. She pulls out a twenty dollar bill and reluctantly hands it to her boss.

“So not fair”

—

Bruised ribs, a potential cold from your night swim and a minor concussion. All things considered, it could have been a hell of a lot worse.

Natasha seems to disagree, which is why she pushes to postpone the mission debriefing.

“You need to rest” is all she says.

Back in your old room, you shower, enjoying the hot water and clean clothes. Natasha is still sitting on your bed when you walk out of the bathroom.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep without you” she confesses shyly, which makes you smile.

“Me neither”

“I thought I lost you”

“I got lucky. Those two idiots actually thought I was an art dealer” you chuckle.

“You’re a very convincing art nerd” Natasha teases, and you want to pull back but she grabs you by the waist. “I wish I still had two more weeks”

“It doesn’t have to be just two weeks” you say, running your hand through her hair. “I don’t want to pretend to be with you, Natasha. I want to be with you, for real”

“Yeah?” she looks up at you, a guarded expression on her face.

Instead of answering, you lean forward, kissing her softly until she pulls you to straddle her lap.

“You know, we never consumated our marriage”

“Seems like we should get on with it” you laugh as she flips you over, making you lie on your back.

“Just as long as you don’t fake an orgasm” she jokes, kissing every inch of your body.

“Promise I won’t”

Your reality turns out better than any undercover mission could ever be.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x r #natasha romanoff x you

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chrysthemiss · 6 hours ago

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His name is Thor, short for Thorium, a malleable metal. Telekinesis is simply a matter of being able to control your thoughts, focus them and think of something else, to form what you're focused on of moving. Malleable to change, and being able to change what you're using your Telekinesis on. (I hope this is okay @aerequets )

While he is a bit weak with his telekinesis, he soon grows far too powerful, and can lift Loid, but doesn't. He soon catches on that if anything were to happen, Yor, his loving owner, would most likely kick him to the curb.

Anya filled his head with that, because Bond had growled about it at one point, and Thor now lived by the rule of keeping his powers hidden unless needed. He hated the rule, of course, rules were dumb. But he respected his family, except Loid.

"I swear, that cat always looks like he wants me dead." Loid mutters, lowering his newspaper.

"Awh, he's just a baby." Yor coos, rubbing her fingers together. "Come here my little Prince."

Thor purrs, hopping up the counter and over to Yor, nuzzling against her hand when it is presented. Bond sits with a thump, head lowering, eyes flicking upwards at Yor. 'Bond though he was Prince.' He whimpers softly, gently pawing at the floor.

"I'm detecting jealousy from you, Bond." Loid flicks his newspaper back up. "How unlike you."

Yor steps away from the counter, kneeling down and patting Bond's head, "You are my king, Bond. You have nothing to worry about." She kisses his head. "Would a walk make you feel better?"

He jumps up, licking her face, barking. "Anya wants to go too!" Anya scurries out of her room, scarf and gloves already on.

"Loid, would you like to join us?" Yor giggles, brushing back Bond's fur as he nuzzles her cheek.

Loid hums, Anya's eager face quickly turning to a deadpan. 'I have to keep up appearances, the neighbors haven't seen us out as a family in weeks..I'll have to bring this up to Handler, and clear a schedule solely for family.' Loid smiles. "I'd love to join you, we could make this a family brunch too."

Yor beams at him, Anya gazing at Loid, 'Papa's such a workaholic.'

Thor mews, gazing at the family with expectant eyes. "Yor, I don't think taking Thor with us is ideal. We don't have a harness for him, nor would he stay with us in this busy city." Loid says, nearing the family, offering his hand to Yor.

She takes his hand, being pulled up, nodding, "Yes, but he might cause a ruckus in our absence. I could hold him til we shop for a harness?"

Loid hums, "I..Suppose so.."

Bond growls softly, his growl turning into a soft whine, the dog dragging himself to the coat rack. The family readies, and then leaves the house, Thor comfortable atop Yor's shoulders.

Loid and Yor go inside the pet shop to quickly measure Thor for a harness, and get him a matching gold leash. Loid is in charge of him, because Bond wanted Yor's attention, and wouldn't follow if Loid was holding his leash. Thor mews, hopping to the curb, swatting at a lizard that quickly scuttles off, hissing. "Mama, do cats eat lizards?" Anya asks, looking to Yor.

"I think so." Yor replies, gently squeezing Anya's hand. "But Thor is domestic, so he really shouldn't be eating them."

Thor perks at her words, ceasing his hisses, walking alongside Bond who cowers. 'Cat scary. Cat wants to hurt Bond.'

Anya gasps softly, releasing Yor's hand and skipping forward. "Mama, cats don't like dogs!"

"That's a common stereotype, Anya." Loid utters. "It's not entirely true. Cats are naturally cruel though, they're the ones who initiate fights the most."

Thor glares back, glancing to Loid's shoes, turning proudly as the knots is undone. Loid steps forward, soon tripping over his own shoelaces, muttering softly as he kneels down to tie his shoes and continue walking.

Bond stills, Anya looking to him, perking. 'Papa's going to fall into mud? But it hasn't rained!' Anya hardens her gaze. "That's all!?"

Sneezing, Bond borfs, tail wagging as Anya caresses his face. She sighs, "It's okay Bond, it's not hurting anyone!" Anya hugs his muzzle. "Mama! Can we go play at the park?"

Yor smiles and nods, "We're nearby, we can go."

After a peaceful walk, they arrive to the park, Bond being unleashed and allowed to hop around with Anya. Thor stares, eyes widening for a second, Bond toppling over nothing. He doesn't allow it to affect him and he jumps right back up, Anya squealing as he chases after her.

"Shall we walk around too, Yor?" Loid smiles.

"Yes, let's!" Yor smiles back. "I heard that Bondman is getting a new show, a spin-off, I believe."

Loid perks, "Oh yes, it'll follow the women he's lead on over his journeys." Loid nods. "It'll start off in chronological order."

Thor narrows his eyes, frowning, "Mrrrp?"

"You seem to know plenty, Loid. Are you sure you're not watching it because you do enjoy it?" Yor grins, gently bumping him.

"No- What an absurd accusation." Loid fumbles, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. "I watch it so Anya knows I value what she does."

"Then I guess, the Manga collection I bought of Bondman can go to her." Yor shrugs.

"You– Bought the collection?" Loid softens. "For me?"

Yor flushes red, "You're my husband. I'm supposed to indulge in your hobbies too.."

Thor gapes, Yor is supposed to be his! He glares at Loid's shoes, the laces raising and tying to the other shoe's laces. At Loid's next step, he falls forward, sprinklers going off nearby. Yor gasps in suprise, raising both hands to cover her mouth. "Loid!!"

He pushes himself up slightly, Thor glaring at his laces, tying them back up and stepping closer to Yor. "I have two left feet today.." Loid sits up, wiping his face. "Forgive me, Yor–"

"No no!" She waves her hands, reaching into her pockets and squatting down. "Loid, are you alright? Here, let me—" She wipes his cheek, gentle with the cloth against his skin.

He thinks about protesting, that he is able to do it himself, but can't find himself saying so. He sighs, leaning towards the cloth, somehow content with how things turned out. "Thank you, Yor.."

Thor rolls his eyes, turning and growling a meow. He should've stuck to bullying Bond.

the forgers get a cat (it has telekinesis)

it probably like, snuck into radioactive waste or something that project apple left behind and came out with telekinesis

not enough to do serious damage but just enough for tomfoolery and shenanigans

yor found the kitty. it immediately loved her. yor is its favorite

bond is terrified of this cat 1/8th his size

bond is sad when anya shows this cat love, but also can't do anything because aforementioned fear

it likes to mess with loid because why not? make his life harder. go kitty

doesnt have a name yet 🤔🤔

#spy x family #loid forger #sxf #yor forger #anya forger #sxf loid #sxf anya #sxf yor #bond forger #sxf bond #twiyor #not my art #sxfwriting #reblogwithstory

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jasvtsc · 1 day ago

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diet pepsi

warnings! age gap. dbf!dean. innocent!reader. female!reader. smut. unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it). graphic language. grammar mistakes.

word count! 1.9k

dean winchester was the forbidden fruit you so desperately craved.

he was your father’s friend. your dad helped him during a hunt when they were younger and in exchange, dean helped your family quit the hunters' life. despite that, he still found a moment to come over from time to time for dinner or other stuff like that.

however, lately, his presence has begun to affect you more and more prominently. every time he’d come over for the annual dinner, you’d be sitting quietly in front of him, your thighs squeezed together as you felt the heat pooling in your core, slowly seeping into your panties and making them stick to your skin. he’d ask you things about college and other stuff and you’d just murmur, digging your food with a fork to distract yourself from the infuriating tension in your body.

you needed him.

badly.

but he was your dad’s friend. and the fact that he was feeding into your desires didn’t help.

he would smirk at you, clearly noticing how hot and bothered you were by his presence and behaviour. at this point he could easily recognize when women were attracted to him and you were just so innocent, trying your best to hide your arousal that it didn’t take him long to pick on the visible clues. so he’d tease you discreetly, right in front of your parents. he was playing a dangerous game and you just fell right into it. but you were just so attractive now that you were all grown up, and he couldn’t control himself around pretty girls.

so, he’d caress your leg from your ankle to your calf under the table, making you shiver. as well as brush his hands against your body while passing by, especially against your ass or hands. and you were eating it up every time, trying to prevent yourself from pouncing on him altogether. your body was going through all these new things that kept building up and you didn’t know how to relieve yourself. but you knew who could help you.

dean fucking winchester.

so when you were leaving back to college and he offered to drop you off at the bus station, you were ecstatic as if you won a lottery or something.

cause honestly? you kind of did.

however, as soon as you found yourself in winchester’s impala, your hands clasped together on your lap, you tried your best not to look at him. you could feel the way his gaze was burning your skin even though he was only stealing glances from the corner of his eye. damn, it was actually kind of intimidating, being with him on your own.

“you know, you grew up real pretty, sweetheart,” he hummed, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the steering wheel.

you looked at him hesitantly, the heat wave striking you ten times harder.

he just complimented you.

“thank you,” you responded with a shy smile, fiddling with your fingers.

he turned his head slightly more towards you and fuck, he just wanted to ravish you. his lower lip was caught between his teeth as he took in a sharp breath, at this point, shamelessly ogling you up and down. it was so weird, cause he knew you since you were a child but now you were a grown woman—a very attractive one on top of that. damn, these curves of yours. only recently did he begin to notice that and it’s been hell ever since. but since he was already there once, what’s there to lose?

he could feel his pants significantly tighten, his dick beginning to stir to life, hardening against the inside of his thigh. he took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

i’m just supposed to drop her off at the bus station, he thought to himself when suddenly your voice brought him back to reality.

“you just missed the stop,” you hummed, pointing your finger at the passing parking lot, slightly leaning forward.

dean cursed and turned his head to look at the station now disappearing in the side-view mirror. with a sigh, he turned back towards you, however, he didn’t expect your face to be so close to his. his eyes widened as your lips almost brushed in a kiss. but he quickly pulled away, almost swerving the car off the road. he uttered a short ‘fuck’ under his breath, quickly getting back in the lane and then clearing his throat.

“well, it looks like i’m gonna drop you off myself,” he quickly gave you that cheeky grin and you just nodded your head obediently, a small ‘oh’ escaping your lips as you weren’t sure if you even had it in yourself to protest. after all, that meant more time with him.

and well, it certainly did.

you’re not sure how the situation resolved to you kissing aggressively in the back of his car after he pulled over on the side of the road where cars barely passed. everything up to that point felt as if it was behind a thick fog of lust that clouded your brain and only now was getting released.

“jesus christ, your ass looks so good in those jeans,” he groaned appreciatively, cupping your butt and squeezing it through the denim of your pants that tightly clung to your skin, only accenting your curves. you blushed heavily and hid your face in the crook of his neck, playfully nipping at his skin.

he let out a guttural growl, grabbing your chin and tilting your head back so you were facing him, and then he smashed his lips on yours once again. his other hand was splayed on your hip, holding you tightly as you straddled him, your clothed core rubbing against his hard bulge with every little move you made.

“baby, keep doing that and i won’t be able to control myself anymore. you’re literally my friend’s daughter. what we’re doing now is already bad enough,” he sighed, slightly pulling back so he could stroke your cheek with the pad of his calloused thumb.

“but no one has to know,” you whispered, leaning into his touch.

“baby—” he started but you quickly cut him off.

“please, i need you,” and the way you said it would be enough to kill him. you practically whimpered in such a pleading tone, your hips softly grinding against his erection. at first, he wanted to be strong and resist the temptation, but he simply couldn’t say no to you.

“fine. but not even a word to anyone about it, ‘kay? you’re a big girl, so i trust that you will behave like one too, right?” he hummed, cocking his brow up as he rubbed your lower lip with his thumb.

“yes. i promise,” you nodded eagerly, your eyes immediately lighting up. and the way he smiled at you all proud that you listened to him, was enough to make your pussy ache for his dick.

“good girl. such a good girl,” he whispered breathlessly, pulling you in for another kiss as he turned you around, so you were lying flat on your back, on the backseat.

his hand snaked down between your bodies, easily getting rid of your jeans, and lowering them down enough for him to snuck his fingers onto your panties. he groaned and bit on your lip as his digits were met with a soft fabric dampened with your juices.

“already so wet for me, huh? you were waitin’ for that, baby? waitin’ to be touched like a good little girl?” he chuckled into your lips, the vibration of his voice sending chills through your body and then straight to your core.

he started rubbing your folds with his fingers to which you whimpered, pushing your hips up to meet his hand. however, he stilled your movement, keeping you down with just one hand, his fingers gripping your side and you knew there’d be bruises from them the next day.

“nuh-uh. patience, sweetheart. no rush,” he cooed, slowing the rubbing movement of his fingers.

you huffed out an annoyed breath but nodded, submitting yourself to his will. he grinned and moved his thumb through your slit, stopping on your clit. he pressed on the sensitive bud, making you let out a soft moan. you closed your eyes and bit your lower lip, letting out a needy whimper. dean quickly pulled your panties to the side and while his thumb kept skillfully working you up at your clit, his other hand moved to his hard cock.

he unbuckled his belt smoothly and tugged his pants down along with his boxers, freeing his throbbing length. it hit his stomach, precum already leaking from the tip. you widened your eyes and basically felt your mouth water at the sight of his massive dick. before you could even say anything, he rubbed the head of it against your folds, spreading them apart as he slowly gathered your juices. you panted heavily, holding onto his shoulders as he nudged the head of his cock at your entrance.

and it hit you at that moment—you were about to lose your innocence.

but then again, why did it feel so exciting and your stomach was fluttering so funny?

as soon as he entered your tight passage, you almost screamed, jolting up. dean slowly eased his way inside your wet pussy as it squelched around him, cradling the back of your head as he pulled you close.

“shh, baby. shh, it’s fine. just relax. it’ll feel good,” he soothed you, stopping for a second so you could get used to his thick cock practically splitting you open.

and soon, you relaxed, your muscles giving in and familiarising themselves with each vein that throbbed, deliciously caressing your heat, only making you more aroused.

when he finally started moving, you were making sounds out of the adult movies, windows beginning to fog up with how hard both of you were breathing. at first, dean was slowly rocking his hips back and forth, not really pulling out that much, so you’d get used to how it felt. but as soon as he saw you enjoying yourself, he picked up the pace and started thrusting into your pussy more vigorously, his muscles flexing as he supported himself on one hand, the other holding you close to his body as your cunt sucked him inside eagerly.

“so fuckin’ tight, baby. just for me. you’re such a dirty girl, letting your dad’s friend fuck you in the back of his car. shit, you’re a desperate little thing. but i like it,” he panted and chuckled, leaning down to bury his face in the crook of your neck, his beard tickling your skin as he nipped at it, making sure to leave hickeys and mark you properly.

as soon as he felt your walls began to clamp down on him, he picked up his pace intending to make you cum on his cock.

“dean, i—”

“i know, baby. i know. just let it go. come for me,” he reassured, connecting your lips in a kiss and soon, your pussy squeezed him tightly as your body shuddered, convulsing in an overwhelming pleasure accompanied by your loud moan.

dean groaned and pressed his forehead against yours as his thrusts grew sloppier. he wanted to help you come down from your high, but when he felt the coil in his stomach tighten, he quickly pulled out and came on your stomach, painting it white with his scorching hot and pearly cum.

“fuckin’ christ. that was so good, sweetheart,” he praised, chuckling breathlessly as he kissed your lips again. “and remember…”

“...don’t tell anybody,” you finished, trying to catch your breath.

“good girl,” he smiled and moved a strand of hair out of your sweat-covered forehead.

a/n: dedicated to my lovely and amazing girlie @titsout4nicholas mwah !!

a/n2: lets ignore the diet coke in the picture i couldn’t find aesthetically pleasing one with pepsi💀

༄♡tags: @frosttbitessam @beausling @deanswidow @titsout4nicholas @a1ecmcdowell @figthoughts @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @artyandink @10ava01 @abellmunsonmovie

#🫧 — kas writes #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural one shot #supernatural #supernatural smut #spn #spn one shot #spn smut #spn x you #spn x reader #jensen ackles #dbf!dean winchester #dbf!dean winchester x reader

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goldfades · 1 day ago

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COMFORT ─── PAIGE BUECKERS

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.1k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | (request: you’re injured and paige takes care of you w her knowledge from her own injuries) you tear your ACL during a pivotal time in your college basketball career, but paige makes sure you never feel alone.

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | descriptions of ACL tear/recovery, hurt to comfort, sweet!paige, nothing else... just sweet hurt to comfort

The world doesn’t end the way you thought it would. It doesn’t explode into fire and chaos. It doesn’t even slow down. Instead, it keeps spinning, indifferent to your pain, while you sit in the sterile silence of the trainer’s office with your head in your hands.

You hear the trainer’s voice—calm, practiced, rehearsed in a way that’s meant to comfort but fails miserably. The words barely register. Partial tear. Complete tear. ACL. Surgery. Out for the season. Each one feels like a slap, sharp and deliberate. They echo in your head, refusing to settle.

You were supposed to be untouchable. Unstoppable. Instead, you’re here, clutching your knee and trying to keep the tears at bay. Except it’s no use, and the first one spills over, hot and unforgiving, sliding down your cheek as you bite down hard on your lip to muffle the sob threatening to break loose.

“Hey,” a voice breaks through the haze, soft but sure, and you’d know it anywhere. Paige.

She’s leaning in the doorway, her face pulled tight with concern, her blue eyes scanning yours like she’s trying to piece you back together. You can tell she’s walked into this kind of scene before—hell, she’s lived it. She doesn’t wait for you to say anything. She just steps inside, closing the door behind her, as if the world outside doesn’t deserve to see you like this.

Her sneakers squeak against the floor as she moves closer, crouching down in front of you. “Talk to me,” she says quietly. Her voice is steady, but her hands are hesitant as they hover near your knee. It’s like she’s afraid touching you will hurt more than it helps.

You shake your head, throat too tight to speak, and look away because meeting her gaze feels like admitting you’re broken.

“Look at me,” Paige says, and this time there’s a firmer edge to her voice, one that doesn’t leave room for argument. “You’re allowed to be upset. You’re allowed to cry. Just—don’t shut me out, okay?”

You sniff, dragging the sleeve of your hoodie across your face like that’s going to fix the mess you feel like. “I—” you start, and your voice cracks. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Her expression softens, and she nods. “I know,” she says simply, like she really does know. Like she’s lived through this storm and found the words she wishes someone had told her.

You don’t fight it anymore. The tears come in full force, and she’s there, catching them in the space between her hands and your shattered pride.

Paige doesn’t flinch when you finally break. She doesn’t pull back, doesn’t make any effort to shush you. Instead, she stays close, her presence steady and grounding as the sobs wrack through you. She waits, letting you cry, like she knows there’s no point trying to stop the flood. She’s been where you are—she understands that grief is messy, raw, and loud.

When you finally start to calm, your chest heaving as you pull in shaky breaths, Paige shifts. Her hands settle on either side of your chair, her fingers curling lightly against the frame. She’s close now, closer than she was before, and it forces you to meet her gaze. Her eyes are so blue it’s almost unnerving, but there’s nothing cold in them. They’re soft and warm and completely locked onto you.

“You’re going to be okay,” she says, her voice low but firm, like she’s willing it into existence. “Not right now. Not tomorrow. But you will be. I promise.”

You huff a bitter laugh, wiping at your tear-streaked cheeks. “How do you know?” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “You don’t know what this feels like.”

Paige tilts her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. For a second, you’re afraid you’ve pissed her off, but then she shifts again, sitting back on her heels. “You’re right,” she says evenly, and you feel a flicker of guilt until she continues, her voice quiet. “I don’t know exactly what this feels like for you. But I do know what it’s like to have everything ripped away. To feel like your body betrayed you.”

Your eyes widen as the words hit you like a punch to the gut. You don’t have to ask what she’s talking about—her injuries are part of her story, the kind of thing reporters love to milk for drama. You’ve heard the whispers in the locker room, the jokes people make about her being made of glass. But hearing her say it, hearing the crack in her voice as she lays it out for you, is something entirely different.

She leans forward, resting her forearms on her knees as she looks up at you. “When I tore my ACL, I felt like my world ended. Like everything I’d worked for was gone, and I didn’t know who I was without basketball.” She pauses, glancing down at her hands. “And when it happened again? I didn’t think I’d ever come back. But I did. And you will too.”

The words land heavy between you, their weight almost too much to carry. You want to believe her, but the doubts are louder, screaming in your head like a storm. You shake your head, your voice trembling as you speak. “What if I don’t? What if I can’t—”

“You will,” Paige interrupts, her tone sharpening. She reaches out then, her hand closing gently over yours. It’s the first time she’s touched you, and the warmth of her palm against yours is enough to still your spiraling thoughts for a moment. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but this injury? It doesn’t define you. You’re so much more than just a basketball player.”

The sincerity in her voice catches you off guard. She’s not just saying it to make you feel better—it’s like she genuinely believes it, like she sees something in you that you can’t see in yourself.

For the first time since the trainer delivered the news, you feel the tiniest flicker of something—hope, maybe. It’s faint and fragile, but it’s there, tucked beneath the layers of hurt and doubt.

You nod slowly, your voice barely a whisper. “I’m scared.”

Paige’s grip on your hand tightens, just enough to ground you. “I know,” she says softly. “And that’s okay. But you don’t have to do this alone, okay? I’ve got you.”

Her words settle over you like a blanket, their warmth chasing away some of the chill that’s been clinging to you all day. You don’t say anything, but the way your fingers curl around hers is enough.

In that moment, you know this won’t be easy. It won’t be quick. But with Paige by your side, maybe—just maybe—you’ll find your way through.

A week passes, but it feels like a lifetime. In some ways, the days blur together—endless stretches of ice packs, pain meds, and quiet moments spent on the couch as your knee heals, your body’s recovery slower than you ever thought possible. The swelling subsides little by little, but the emotional toll still lingers. It’s not just the injury itself; it’s everything that comes with it—the sense of being lost, of not knowing who you are without the game you’ve built your life around.

Through it all, Paige is there. Every step. Every moment.

You didn’t ask her to stay. You didn’t need to. She just… did. She’s in your apartment more than you are, rearranging the furniture to make sure it’s easier for you to move around, grabbing your crutches when you forget them, offering you soft smiles that somehow make everything feel less heavy.

At first, you thought it would be temporary. Maybe she’d check in now and then, offer a few encouraging words, and then go back to her life. But Paige doesn’t leave. She doesn’t even give you a chance to feel like a burden before she’s sitting next to you, flipping through a medical textbook she found in your living room, looking up at you with that concerned-but-gentle expression as she explains exactly what your recovery is going to look like.

“You need to ice it after every physical therapy session, okay?” she says one morning, kneeling beside you on the couch. Her face is close—too close, but you don’t mind it. “And remember, no jumping for at least three months. Even if it feels okay, you’ve got to take it slow.”

You nod, your attention drifting to the way her hair falls into her eyes, the soft blue of her UConn hoodie clinging to her frame. She’s spent the last few days talking you through every little detail, but you’re more focused on the way her presence fills the space, making the room feel less empty. Less… lonely.

She doesn’t seem to mind when you have to ask the same questions over and over, doesn’t grow frustrated when you get teary or frustrated with yourself. She just holds you—gently, quietly, as if she’s got all the time in the world to wait for you to heal.

A few days in, you wake up from a nap to find her sitting on the floor beside you, her back against the couch, her head tilted back against the armrest as she takes a short rest. You smile faintly, surprised at how natural it feels to have her here, like this.

She stirs as you move, glancing up at you with a sleepy smile. “Hey, you’re up,” she says, pushing herself into a sitting position. She doesn’t even look tired, though you know she’s been here, practically living with you. The sleep-deprived bags under her eyes tell a different story, but she never complains. She just brushes it off and makes sure you’re okay.

“You don’t have to keep doing this, you know,” you murmur, your voice soft but filled with a weight you hadn’t expected to carry. “I mean, you’ve got your own stuff to do. Your recovery, your workouts—”

“Don’t,” she interrupts, her eyes serious. She reaches out to take your hand, her grip warm and steady. “You’re not a burden. You’re never a burden to me, okay?”

You swallow, the lump in your throat growing thicker. The truth is, you want to believe her, but you can’t shake the guilt that gnaws at you. It’s been a week, and Paige hasn’t left your side, hasn’t hesitated to show up for you in every way possible. She doesn’t even hesitate when she has to pick you up from your appointments, drive you around, carry your bags—her whole world seems to revolve around making sure you’re okay.

“I’m here because I want to be here,” she adds softly, her thumb running over the back of your hand. “I know what it’s like to be in your shoes, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She says it so easily, so confidently. You can see it in the way she moves, the way she holds herself around you. There’s a softness to her that’s more than just kindness. It’s her care, her understanding, her quiet insistence that you will get through this.

Later that evening, after another grueling round of physical therapy, you slump down onto the couch in exhaustion, your leg elevated with an ice pack resting on your knee. Paige sits next to you, gently brushing your hair back from your forehead. You glance at her, trying to keep your voice light. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Take care of me like this. I mean, it’s not like you don’t have your own recovery stuff going on, too. And yet, here you are—every single day.”

Paige’s smile is soft, but there’s something fierce behind it. She doesn’t look away as she answers, her voice quiet but filled with conviction. “Because I love you.”

You blink at her, the words catching you off guard. There’s a warmth in your chest that spreads like wildfire, catching you off guard, even as you try to fight it. But you can’t. Not with Paige here, not with the way she’s been by your side without hesitation, without complaint.

You pull your knee up, adjusting it so you can sit facing her. “I love you too,” you murmur, the words slipping out before you can second-guess them.

She tilts her head, her smile gentle and soft, her eyes searching yours like she’s waiting for something more. “You don’t have to say it just because I did,” she teases lightly. But you can see the glimmer of emotion in her eyes, the way she holds your gaze a moment longer before looking away.

But then, just like that, she’s leaning over to gently press a kiss to your temple. The touch is sweet, tender, and full of love—like a promise, a reminder that, no matter what happens with your knee, she’ll be there.

In that moment, with her warmth beside you, you know that you don’t have to walk this road alone. Paige will carry you through this. And maybe—just maybe—you can find your way back to the game, to yourself, with her by your side.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#paige bueckers #wbb x reader #ncaa wbb #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #wbb imagine #wbb smut #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #uconn #paige bueckers uconn #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers x female oc #paige bueckers x y/n #wcbb x reader #wcbb smut #uconnwbb

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ridingtorohan · 19 hours ago

Text

𓇻 ft. tulpar crew x gn reader

𓇻 request. the crew's reactions to walking in on reader touching themselves.

𓇻 content. 18+ content, minors dni. potential second hand embarrassment, reader is gender neutral (no genitalia specified), getting caught, masturbation, semi-public masturbation.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Masterlist

By all accounts, Curly is a respectable captain. He respects boundaries and doesn't cross the line. He's the captain, after all. Not having locks on the door is a safety issue, he knows. Just as he knows to knock. It just wasn't on his mind; he needed your help with something and you're technically available.

So he breezes right in, words on his lips and - there you are.

Holy shit, there you are. In all your lewd glory. "Oh." Then, oh. "Sorry, I'm just-" and he doesn't even finish the sentence because he backtracks and shuts the door behind him.

The thing is, that image haunts him, later. Wriggling like an infestation inside his skull. When he sees you, he acts every bit the proper superior, doesn't bat an eye. Internally, he sees flashes of skin, the way you moaned and sighed.

It leaves a lasting impression in his mind and he's so painfully aware of it. Aware of it in more ways than one because he knows nothing can come of this. It's awkward enough walking in on someone, awkward even more when everytime he knocks on your door afterwards, he's praying that you'll be nude and waiting for him.

Late at night, he remembers it, stroking himself and pressing his face into a pillow as his hips jerk, spilling himself over his fingers, wishing that it was your hands on him.

Sometimes, he wishes you'd walk in on him too.

Even Jimmy knows better than to poke through doors, especially when everybody is awake. He's never felt the need to, not with the open door policy and frankly, until this, he's only noticed you in passing.

Nimble as ever, he opens your door, irritated over something that one of the crew members had done the other day. Sometimes, he just liked to vent and rage about the injustice. You're easy to talk to, but he's never really sought you out for anything else before.

The door shuts behind him and he just stands there, previous irritation set to the backburner. Because there you are, uniform discarded and showing off your form, hand between your thighs as you nursed your arousal.

Above all else, Jimmy is a certified voyeur. He likes to watch and admire, drilling inside his head about the way your hand moves, the curve of your spine. Each individual sound. But even Jimmy has his limits.

When you're close or have already come, he slides up behind you, hot breath at your neck, thick hands skimming over your waist, to your thighs, only to settle on top of yours. "As much as I enjoy the view, pet, I'm going to take it from here." And he makes damn good no his promise.

He makes a mental note that to visit your room far more often.

Anya really just needed an answer to a quick question, relating to your latest check in to the medbay (or your duties). She knocks on the door, too softly to be heard over the sound of your activities.

It takes her an embarrassingly long time to even realize what was going on. All she sees is your huddled form. First comes the concern, her hand reaching out for your shoulder, "Are you oka-"

And you let out such a noisy sigh that she freezes. She's gotten laid before and suddenly it hits her like a truck just what she walked into because she knows what those sounds mean. Furiously backpedalling, her hand raises to her mouth. "I'm so sorry."

Quietly, she excuses herself from your quarters, ears a little red and hands shaking.

For a long, awkward time afterward, she can't even meet your eyes, even going as far as delegating the psych eval to Curly.

If you ever get injured, she performs it as meticulously as she can, her eyes tracing over every ounce of your body, trying to forget the way you moved.

Frankly, at one point, one of you would have to address what happened. But she's more than eager to ride this bumpy path until then, even if it strains your relationship with her.

Everytime she sees you that familiar, yawning ache simmers in her gut.

As much as she tried to deny it, what she walked in on affected her.

When the tension becomes too much, she finds herself sitting on her leg, grinding herself against her calf, biting the inside of her cheek as she imagines you there.

As stupid as it is, she might have maybe done it in your presence, hands trembling as she tries to keep a conversation going, desk separating you two. Other times, when it becomes unbearable, she rubs her thighs together or slides her calves against the leg of her chair, praying to god that you don't see her. (But half of her hoping that you will.)

He's been looking for you for the better part of half an hour; usually, he finds you in obscure places or with his intern, so the last place he thought to look was in your bedroom. Really, that should have been his first guess. You two were supposed to talk about something and it's been on his mind like a nagging hornet.

Sure, walking into another's room is technically frowned upon, but with all the mishaps of Daisuke barging into people's rooms (much to the disgruntlement of, well, everyone) that for a split second he didn't even consider it.

He just opens the door and - okay, so you're doing that. No wonder you were absent, so engrossed in self pleasure that you didn't even hear him stepping in.

Swansea feels too old for this, seeing your twisted figure, your cries of pleasure. So he just turns around and shuts the door, leaving you to it.

He tucks himself back into a latest project and perusing Daisuke's homework, busying himself until you're finished and in public. Not that he planned to publicly confront you about it, but because he knew everybody needed a little time alone. As small as the Tulpar was, he knew any time and space should be well spent. Even if he silently questioned your methods.

But he does bring it up. He doesn't let it slide (not like how your hands slid between your thighs and-).

Despite whatever personality conflicts you two had, he had eyes and all working parts, thank you very much. He also had needs.

Once the original topic was out of the way, he crossed his arms, expression serious when he says, "Now, it's all my doin' for bargin' in like that, but I saw something of you that I shouldn't have." He'd elaborate if he had to, "If alone time is what you're after, we've got socks for that. Toss it on your door handle and be done with it; I ain't gonna let nobody disturb ya during it."

As awkward as that conversation was, he's handled it before. He has grown kids, after all. But you're not his kid, and you're certainly grown - he's seen that. Noticed it off-hand a few times before too.

He sighs, leaning back, letting you decide when he adds, "But if release is what you're after, I know a thing or two, and I can help you with that."

All but acting like a lost puppy, Daisuke often turned to you for help in locating his missing items. Batteries, dust pan, his gameboy cartridge. (Swansea was so mad the last time he lost the screwdriver and thanked you profusely with your help locating it.) So popping in for a quick minute into your bedroom to ask for your help in locating his soap was a mindless task.

He pops in, door banging, energetic words on his lips. His brain all but sputters when your eyes connect, nude form on the bed, sprawled out, light sheen of sweat on your body, looking like a tribute straight from the gods.

Despite your hasty attempt to cover and a spew of apologies from Daisuke's lips, he can't take his eyes off you. It's like he can't even blink, so absorbed in your image that half of what he's saying doesn't make sense.

You'd have to forcibly remove him because he is rooted to his spot, unable to vacate of his own free will. He'll be banging on your door, pleading to be let back in, to talk it over. He's not sure what he wants to say - more apologies? Explain why he's there? He wants to offer help so badly.

If he's not pushed out at all, his brain ceases to function. Despite being a handsome lad, and being twenty, he's hardly been with anyone. Sure, he knows exactly what you're up to - he's done it himself plenty of times-- but all those words die in his mouth.

"Soap, I swear I'm just looking for soap," he explains, trying to rush into an explanation, the only coherent thing he can say.

He'll eventually manage to sputter, "I was going to go shower, but nowIwannaknowifyouwanttojoinme" is strewn in with "ohmygodpleaseletmehelpyou".

He's all jittery, achingly hard in his pants, wanting to touch and hear you make those sounds again. Daisuke feels like he'll go insane if he doesn't. Hands fidgeting, his fingers curl in, unconsciously taking a few steps in. He'll finally manage a coherent, "Please let me stay."

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natalievoncatte · 22 hours ago

Text

“Today?” Kara said, “really?”

There was a silence in the house, as a pall had fallen over it. Everyone was gathered for the festivities and the turkey in the oven was filling the house with a delightful scent that made Lena’s mouth water. Thanksgiving was supposed to be the one day that Lena could forget about her waistline and just indulge herself. She’d been “helping” Eliza along with Alex and Kelly and Nia while the boys and Kara were out back tossing a football and pretending that she and J’onn didn’t have an outrageous advantage over Brainy and James.

Now Kara was standing in the living room as the news broke in over the football game and announced that a rampaging alien was tearing apart Rio de Janiero.

“Guys,” Kara said solemnly, “I have to go.”

Lena’s heart sank. She knew better than to protest. Kara had already glumly removed her glasses and was about to go grab her suit. Lena reached out and curled a hand around her bicep.

“Please be careful, darling.”

Lena could feel eyes on her back, Eliza and Alex and Nia all watching, silently urging one of them to just finally make a damned move. Lena *lived with her*, for God’s sake, and had since she sold her penthouse. They shared breakfasts and Kara gave her foot rubs and still they were stuck in this maddening limbo without defining what and who they were and it seemed neither dared to ask.

Lena knew what she wanted the answer to be, and how it ached inside her.

Kara glumly trudged down the stairs in full Supergirl regalia, regal and imposing as ever and just as beautiful. Since she’d revealed her identity to the world she’d been freed from the constraints of having to disguise herself, and a few months ago had buzzed the left side of her head, having trimmed the rest to shoulder length, and Lena longed to run her fingers over the fuzz.

She’d also altered her suit again. It no longer had sleeves. Every time Lena saw her, it felt like her soul was going to escape her body.

Kara came over and put her hands on Lena’s arms.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

Lena gulped down her anxiety.

“I can hear your heart, you know.”

“Just be careful. Please.”

Kara started to turn. Maybe it was the audience, maybe she was just tired of being mired in this thick tension between them. Maybe it was the wine. She grabbed Kara’s arm again and sprang forward to brush her lips against Kara’s cheek, dangerously close to Kara’s mouth.

“For luck.”

Kara’s eyes flew open wide and she gaped at Lena.

“I’ll be b-back,” she said, and swept out the door, cape billowing majestically.

God how Lena hated that cape, sometimes. It blocked the view.

What had been a festive gathering grew quiet. Everyone gathered around the television to see what was going on, save Eliza who politely excused herself to the kitchen, hiding tears that everyone politely ignored.

Lena joined her. She was making the gravy.

“A life of fighting isn’t what I wanted for her,” she said.

“Me either.”

They were alone in the kitchen and Eliza was whisking a roux as she waited for the raw flour smell to cook off.

“Lena, do you have feelings for my daughter?”

Lena swallowed hard, grabbing a knife to chop carrots for glazing so that she’d have something to occupy your hands.

Eliza’s voice was soft, something wistful in her eyes. “You must know how she feels about you.”

Lena had to stop to avoid slicing open her finger, almost feeling the touch of the blade. She cleared her throat.

“I do,” she admitted. “I very much do. If I’m going to be honest with myself, I’ve been in love with her for years.”

Eliza nodded, utterly unsurprised. “Kara is very hesitant about delicate things. When she first started living with us, she used to rip doorknobs off and break things at random while she learned to control her powers. She’s probably told you about Streaky.”

“She has.”

Eliza began pouring stock into the pot, her whisk making soft scraping sounds.

“She’s still that way about everything. Afraid if she pushes too hard, she’ll break something.”

Lena nodded. It was at that moment that Alex stormed into the kitchen. “She’s back.”

Immediately, Lena rushed out into the living room. Kara trudged through the door, and sighed.

“He got a few good hits in but he’s contained.”

Lena could only stare. Her suit was covered in scorch marks and even worse, Kara was bruised, her knuckles especially battered. She smiled weakly.

“I just need a minute to clean up.”

With a deep sigh, Kara turned and headed upstairs.

Lena could feel the eyes on her before she glanced back. Eliza motioned a silent “Go”, and Lena went.

She knocked at the bathroom door.

“Lena?” said Kara.

She always knew. Super-senses.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

Brief hesitation, then, “yes.”

Lena stepped inside and closed the door. Kara was washing her hands, the injuries already vanishing. Lena didn’t care. She took Kara’s hands anyway, gently washing them under warm water.

She then fumbled at the clasps and unhooked Kara’s cape, and folded it. It was surprisingly heavy, made of a dense material from her long lost home. Setting it aside, she rested her hand against Kara’s deliciously broad back, silently waiting for permission.

“Go ahead,” Kara said in a shaky voice.

Lena freed the tab of the hidden zipper and pulled, baring Kara’s expansive muscular back, and peeled the suit away from her shoulders. Kara had nothing but a sports bra and boxer briefs on beneath. She finished shimmying out of the suit on her own.

Lena has seen Kara in bathing suits, or caught flashes of her changing, but this was different, somehow more intimate. There was a vulnerability, not just in the woman disrobing but in the goddess showing Lena her bruises. Lena gently touched a black and purple mark on Kara’s flank.

“This one hurt, didn’t it.”

“It always hurts. I can feel it, I just pretend I don’t.”

Lena looked up at her and met her gaze.

“Kara, may I kiss you?”

Kara blinked and Lena could actually feel her tremble.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Lena rose on her tiptoes and pressed their lips together very softly, with a deliberate slowness. When Kara kissed her back and pulled her into a delicate embrace, hands bracketed low on her hips, Lena felt like she could fly.

Kara was looking at her in wonder.

“Was that for more luck?”

Lena felt bold. She had seize the moment now, before she lost her nerve and they fell back into tense limbo.

“Kara Danvers, if you want to, you can get very lucky tonight.”

Her eyes were wide and Lena grinned.

“I umm, I…”

Lena trailed a finger down the center of Kara’s muscular chest.

“Dinner is almost ready, darling. Take your shower. Just remember to save room for dessert.”

Kara favored her with a delighted smile as Lena stepped out of the bathroom and padded down the stairs.

When she reached the ground floor, everyone was pointedly focused elsewhere, either on the football game or cooking, and Kelly and Nia were playing cards at the dining room table.

Alexa, though, handed her a beer. Lena took it with a shaking hand.

“Fucking finally,” Alex whispered. “Just don’t get too loud tonight, okay? Go down to the beach if you can’t control yourself.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed.

“I hate you.”

“Love ya too, sis-in-law,” said Alex.

“We’re not married yet.”

Alex tipped back her brew. “Six months, tops.”

Lena took a long pull on her beer and scowled.

(It ended up being four months)

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karaeilishh · 3 days ago

Note

Hii this is so random but do you think you could write vampire!billie? Any plot is fine!

this gave me goosebumps UGHH, sorry for making you wait so long baby 💞

your blood b. eilish

warnings: smut, blood. BLOOD, mean!vampire!billie, blood drinkin (kinda a lot), billie has large and sharp fangs, oral, strap, crazy a lil

w/c - 3,4k

you were waiting for her so much. weeks in an empty bed seemed torturous while your girlfriend was on her music tour. and not only that. billie was an adored person all over the world. everyone thought she was so gentle, kind and cloyingly sweet, incapable of doing bad things. they were partly right, but only you knew what she was really capable of.

you cleaned the whole house before her arrival, cooked dinner, tidied yourself up so that your girlfriend would need nothing. you even put on her favorite underwear under a shirt and home shorts. everything was perfect for her arrival. you were waiting so much.

she promised to come in the evening, but it was already deep into the night, you couldn’t close your eyes because of the worries when she didn’t answer your calls. the lights in the whole house were on so that you wouldn’t be tempted to close your eyes. you curled up on the couch in the living room, spending there for what seemed like an eternity before the front door opened. you jump off the couch in relief.

“billie…” your expression changes when instead of a gentle smile on her face, you see her tired and desperate look. bags under her eyes, dirty disheveled hair and dirty clothes. her lipstick is slightly smudged, her whole appearance is pure chaos. She places her suitcase next to the door and walks inside, still wearing her sneakers. you watch her every move with concern.

“baby, what’s wrong?” you dare to break the silence when she sits down on the couch, covering her face with her hands. you slowly walk towards her and sit next to her. your hand gently touches her thigh as you look at her. your face is etched with worry. “i screwed up.”

she lets out a ragged breath, yanking her leg away from your touch. she was so nervous and tense that you felt uneasy. her whole body was dripping with discontent and innuendo. “billie, please explain to me. what happened?” your voice takes on a more serious and cold tone, but your eyes are still soft as you try to catch her gaze.

“fucked” she jumps up from the couch, burying her hands in her hair. she paces back and forth across the room, sighing loudly every now and then. you tried to give her time to explain to you what was going on. you lean back on the couch and cross your arms over your chest, seemingly forgetting to breathe.

“h-he ran away. he saw me, i think he saw me.” billie finally stops and looks at you with crystal empty eyes, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. you don’t immediately understand what she’s talking about, tilting your head. “who is ‘he’, baby? please tell me"

billie exhales heavily, like it's so hard to talk about this, like it's so hard to do anything, her body is breaking. "i'm hungry, i'm so fucking hungry. and i'm weak, and that's why i was so distracted, and he just... he fucking ran away. i couldn't catch him" billie sinks back onto the couch, her face twisted in hunger, revealing her fangs. they seemed to have gotten heavier and bigger, more dangerous, more attractive.

It all came together in your head as she explained to you what had happened. she was like this because she hadn't fed in a long time. she needed blood, she needed it to survive. literally. her skin was even paler, her veins showing on her tired face. how had you not noticed it before? "how long have you not fed?"

question hangs in the air for a few seconds before billie finds the strength to answer. "i don't know. a long time. a long time ago"

you bite your bottom lip, thinking about what to do next. idea in your head was just crazy and unrealistic, and you knew that billie would never agree to this. but you had to try. "baby..."

you slowly move towards her and straddle her hips. billie instinctively wants to put her hands on your hips, but you take her hands and intertwine your fingers. she gives you an ambiguous look, but remains silent, waiting for you to say something. "i know this might be dangerous for me, but maybe..."

"do you hear yourself?!" billie abruptly pulls her hands away, almost pushing you off her lap. Her face distorts with anger instantly, fire burning in her eyes. anyone would say that she is mad as hell, but you see something else behind this mask. fear, desire, hunger. "oh god, don't even dare say that out loud!"

her tone leaves no room for argument, but you know how much she needs it. to drink blood. your blood. you're a little afraid, but you touch her again. your fingertips graze over her shoulders. you tug at the fabric of her shirt, revealing her muscular arms. "but why? you need this, billie! i don't think you get offered-"

she interrupts with a nervous grin, this time allowing you to touch her, but her eyes and voice are still as cold. "listen to me carefully. i will never allow myself to drink a drop of your blood, never."

her gaze grows more furious as she looks at your neck, your pale skin practically begging her to leave the bite, but she continues. "if i taste you i don't know if i'll be able to stop. i can't put you at risk like that"

she carefully lifts you off her lap and heads towards the kitchen. you silently follow her. billie tries to convince herself that she can at least somehow cope with her hunger if she eats proper food. the homemade pasta you made. she brings the fork to her mouth, but hesitates as soon as she smells the food. "bilie... don't"

"i'm fine!" she cuts you and puts the fork in her mouth, chewing on the pasta for a few seconds before the urge to vomit attacks her throat. she runs to the trash can, and spits out everything she tried so desperately to swallow. the problem wasn't that you made her a bad dinner. she needed blood, lots of fresh blood. her body couldn't function properly without it. there was desperation in her eyes

"please, bils. just do it." you walked up to your girlfriend and gently placed your hands on her cheeks. she couldn't keep eye contact with you because she knew she would give in if she looked into your loving eyes. you wanted the best for her. always. so much so that you offered her to drink your own blood, putting yourself in danger. "i can't, baby. i just can't do this to you..."

she gave in and looked into your eyes. almost crying. from hunger, from desire, from fear. it was all affecting her so much that she thought she would fall apart under the pressure. "ill never forgive myself if i can't stop."

you left a soft kiss on her lips, urging her to be quiet. you wanted so much to help her in any way possible. you caress her face for a few more seconds before slowly moving her head to the side of your neck. the enticing warmth radiating from your skin made billie whine. “please, don’t do this…”

she licks her lips. her nose grazes over your soft skin, her arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer to her. she looks at the pulsing vein in your neck as you tilt your head, giving her more access. her hot breath hits you as you both realize there’s no turning back. she won’t stop. your body temperature drops a few degrees, your fingertips shaking as you close your eyes. you were scared, but also so excited at that moment that it was driving you crazy

“i’m sorry,” she whispers before abruptly sinking her fangs into your pulsating flesh. A sharp pain shoots through your body like an electric shock, your eyes wide open as is your mouth. a few strangled moans choke in your throat. you're afraid to make the slightest sound or move your body even a millimeter. after a few seconds you feel your warm sticky blood running down your skin, staining your light shirt. it runs down your collarbones, your chest, your stomach. billie drank it so greedily and sloppily, not caring at all how much blood flows out. she'll wring out every drop. with each sip she became more and more uncontrollable.

adrenaline speeds up the circulation of your blood, only increasing the pleasure of billie as she continues to scratch your neck with her fangs. your soft skin ached from the pain. there were stars in your eyes, your body temperature changing seemingly every few seconds, while you heard your girlfriend swallow your blood. she jerks away from you, breathing heavily. you whine from another sharp prick of pain.

"god, i’m sorry... i got carried away, i shouldn't..." her eyes run over your face, she mumbles while you just stand there and silently stare at her. her lips, chin, nose are all covered in your scarlet blood. her fangs sparkle in the moonlight. it was so strange, but she looked so damn sexy. she was confused, but her gaze was so wild from how she instantly became addicted to your taste.

"you feeling better?" when you come to, you press your hand to your neck, feeling the warm blood beneath your fingertips. billie relaxes a little when she sees your reassuring gaze. you let her know youre okay. “yeah, yeah, i’m better. so much better. im sorry you had to go through that…” she drops her hands to your waist, pressing her forehead to yours.

“actually… i liked it” the tone of your voice makes billie smile and look you in the eyes. she was surprised. her eyebrows raised slightly as she studied your face. “what did you say?” she heard you perfectly well, but it was like she needed confirmation that she wasn’t delirious and that you actually liked it. she needed to know that she didn’t hurt you.

“i said i liked the feeling” you whisper, standing on your toes to whisper in her ear. you knew she was about to lose control. "your teeth in my flesh, my warm blood running down my skin. it's so strange, but so exciting..."

billie's mouth dropped open, breathing raggedly. her earlier worry disappeared when she saw you were okay. maybe too much. "i can't believe it. i just drank your blood and you like it?"

she pulls back and looks you in the eyes. she only needed one word to break completely. you could feel her desire in the warming air. or is it that you're still so agitated after she drank about half a liter of your blood in one go. "yes..."

your whisper turns billie on with a snap of her finger. she lights up. the hunger in her eyes is still there, only now she's not hungry for blood, she's hungry for you. for your body, soft as play dough in her hands. "you're such a slut if you really liked it"

the next moment she's dragging you to the bedroom on the second floor. her teeth are grinding as she throws you on the bed. now some of her life force has returned and she remembered how much she missed you. her head could finally work properly to realize how long it's been since you felt each other's warmth. fucking weeks spent hundreds of miles apart.

"god, i missed you so much" her body is hovering over yours. the tips of her long hair tickle your skin as she takes off your bloody shirt, revealing your lacy bra. your upper body is covered in your blood. a smile spreads across her face as she looks up at your face. "you were waiting for me"

"of course i was. you have no idea how" you giggle. she looked so sexy with that look and your frozen blood on her face. billie leaves a kiss on your lips, letting you taste the salty taste of your blood on your lips. crazy feeling. you squirm slightly under her. "please, bills…"

"please, what?" she is amused by your whining. it's amazing how much her mood has improved after she drank your blood. maybe there was something special about it. you whisper softly about how much you need her, and it clearly affects her. billie leaves kisses on your body, caressing your collarbone with her tongue. "i wasn't kidding when i said i couldn't stop"

you don't have time to ask her, as you feel another painful bite on your body. her teeth are clamped around your collarbone, making you feel the pressure on your bone. she didn't even sink her teeth all the way in, but a pool of blood still formed on your body, which billie drank up, greedily swallowing every drop. the pain wasn't as noticeable now, causing your brain to continue to drift to the warmth between your legs. the contrast of pain and desire was driving you crazy.

bilie waits until a pool of blood forms above your collarbone again, before dipping her fingertips into it. you look at her questioningly, but remain silent, waiting for what she will do. billie runs her fingers over your stomach, drawing something on your skin. the dark, thick blood contrasted with your milky skin, as billie mindlessly smeared your blood over your body.

"baby, please..." you remind her not to get too carried away. she giggles in response and licks the last of your blood off her fingers. she found it funny. “sorry, princess.”

billie peels off your shorts, throwing them to the other corner of the bedroom. she greedily examines every inch of your exposed skin, like she’s seeing it for the first time. “god, you’re gorgeous.” she can’t help but comment when such a beautiful, obedient girl lies beneath her, letting her do whatever she wants to her.

she pulls you to the edge of the bed, kneeling between your legs. you prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of her face. god, you wanna take a picture. you thought you were dreaming right now, that this wasn’t real.

ripping the thin piece of fabric off your body, billie swallows hard. you hear it. something new flashes in her eyes as she practically growls. She places your legs on her shoulders, her hands squeezing your hips painfully. She leaves wet kisses on the inside of your thighs, looking into your eyes. "billie…"

you’re literally dripping. you wanted her so badly, inside you. you needed her to fuck you so badly, but billie had something else in mind. She lowers your legs, wrapping both hands around your left thigh. She massages it for a few seconds before running her tongue over your warm skin. "what are you-"

she doesn't let you finish. her fangs sink into your flesh again. all the way. she clenches her jaws so hard you want to scream. She moans loudly and obscenely as the taste of your blood imprints on her tongue. She takes big greedy gulps, but you still feel your blood dripping down your leg. right onto the white carpet. “billie…”

you throw your head back against the sheets, trying to get used to the feeling. after a few seconds, the pain faded, leaving only a slight discomfort. but that seemed to go away too when she looked at you. Her eyes were wild, animalistic, sending shivers down your spine. her dark eyeliner highlighted her light eyes, and oh god, you were just aching. you needed her.

as soon as her fangs emerge from your skin, you feel a strange emptiness inside. it was mutual dependence. aching, but so strong. you just need to feel her mouth on you. it doesn’t matter how. billie licks a trickle of blood from your skin before finally placing her tongue where you need her most. “fuck, yes…”

your hand immediately flies to her hair, pulling her head down to your needy pussy. she literally growls into your flesh, telling you what a dirty slut you are. all the events of the night were forgotten as soon as her tongue wrapped around your clit, making you moan in pleasure. electric.

the dirtiest sounds came out of her mouth as she devoured you. the taste of your blood still clinging to her tongue, mixing with your juices. it was driving her crazy. her hands traced their way to your breasts, squeezing hard. she lightly scratched your skin, making you arch your back. every atom of your body wanted to feel her.

"i'm close...i’m..." you whine, thinking that billie will make you wait, but she just buries her face deeper into your pussy. she wanted to reward you, to worship you, because you literally brought her back to life. once she tasted you, she would never want anyone else's blood again. only you.

your body disintegrates into a million pieces as an electric orgasm shoots through your body, leaving you shaking for a while. you breathe heavily, looking up at the ceiling. billie crawls towards you, looking into your eyes with a playful glint in hers. you reach your hand up to her face, trying to wipe away at least a few drops of your blood, but she doesn't let you. "i like the feeling of your blood"

"but you have it all over your face!" you giggle and intertwine your fingers. your body calmed down a bit, but billie still wanted to do one thing. you see the glint of something unsaid in her eyes and you whisper softly, "what do you want?"

there’s a look of relief on her face, like she's been waiting for you to ask. "i want you to ride me. my cock." Your heart skips a beat when she mentions her strap. you’ve been hungry for that. you nod softly and she pulls away from you, taking off her jeans as she does so. "sit on the edge."

she instructs you as she quickly fastens the strap to her thighs. She does it so casually, like if she doesn't have you on her body for another minute she'll die. billie sits down on the bed and roughly pulls you onto her lap.

"lower yourself." Her voice drips with dominance, making you weak in the knees. you slowly lower yourself onto her strap, holding onto her shoulders. you’ve missed this feeling so much. you moan, lowering your body completely onto hers. you give yourself a few seconds to adjust, but billie squeezes your hips tightly. “come on, bunny, bounce on me.”

her words leave your brain in a mess as you start bouncing on her cock like a fucking bunny. billie’s hands wander over your body as she finally finds her way to the clasps of your bra to push it off your body. your breasts bounce with every movement you make. her cock is buried deep inside your pussy, hitting all the right spots.

“go faster.” billie grabs your breasts with both hands, making your pace only sloppier. you couldn’t go on your own anymore with her teasing you like that. your whole body was a bloody dull mess underneath her. your legs were weak as you fell against her. "i...i can't..."

"that's pathetic, baby," she chuckles, running her tongue over your tits before biting you again. your hands tighten on her shoulders as she only sinks her teeth halfway in, but it's enough to draw blood again. it runs down your nipple and billie swirls it around with her tongue with a satisfied groan, letting go with pop-sound.

finished torturing your breasts, she finally changes your position, pressing your face into the mattress. your ass is hanging in the air as she finally thrusts into you. her nails scratching your back, her cock is buried in your pussy, all the sheets are crumpled from your grip and stained with your blood. "harder, billie, right there..."

this was probably the craziest night of your life, because your head was no longer working. her cock was fucking you so stupidly, a liter of your blood was pumped out of your body. perfect conditions so the only thing on your mind is billie. the angle she fucks you at, making your pussy clench around her cock as she makes you cum over and over.

your blood pushed her into it.

tags: @dandelions4us

requests open !!

a/n - UGH i love it

#billie eilish #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish smut #billie eilish fic #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish oneshot #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you

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rothpie · 2 days ago

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❝FIDELITY❞ |part9

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: mentioning miscarriage, blood, mentioning drug and alcohol use, daddy issues

Selly's note: First of all I'm sorry. I wrote this while my heart was broken. I learned my ex left the country. He was the first person I loved. LIKE COME BACK???? We HAVE TO marry!!!!! Sorry for oversharing💗, and if there is a mistake. I didn't re-read this. Love y'all.💗💗

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Your hands trembled. Your whole body felt numb, yet the shaking tethered you to reality. There was a heavy weight on your chest, as though even breathing had become an uphill battle. A knot in your throat tightened with every passing second, making even the simple act of swallowing painful. You didn’t know what to do. The chaos of the moment was tearing your mind into pieces, your thoughts tangling into a knot so thick you couldn’t unravel it.

You hadn’t done anything unusual. The day had started like any other. You made yourself some herbal tea, watched TV, read a book about baby development. You cleaned the house a little, then opened the packages that had arrived—items for your daughter’s room.

Alone.

Since the moment you arrived in this town, you’d always felt alone, but this was different. This was like falling into a deep, endless chasm, where there was nothing to grasp, no hand to reach for. You could feel your hands flailing in the void, desperately searching, yet finding nothing.

The warm, sticky sensation spreading down your legs sent a jolt of panic through you. Your eyes flicked downward involuntarily, but you didn’t want to look. Yet it felt as if everything around you was betraying you, even the streetlamp outside, which cast its harsh glow on the spreading pool on the floor. You didn’t want to see it. You feared that seeing it would confirm your worst fears. Your eyes filled with tears, but you couldn’t cry. You wouldn’t cry. Would tears ease the crushing weight of this fear? You doubted it.

You reached for your phone, but even your fingers trembled. Touching the screen, dialing a number, selecting a name—it all felt like an impossible task. The chaos in your mind blurred your thoughts. Everything was moving too fast and too slow all at once. Seconds stretched into eternities, yet time pressed on, dragging you deeper into helplessness.

You hadn’t wanted this. You had left the island just for this pregnancy, determined to build a life here. And now, was it all going to be taken from you? After all the effort to adjust, after everything?

You glanced around. The silence of the room pressed down on you like a weight. It felt as if the entire world had pulled away, leaving you stranded. You knew there were people—so many people—but none of them were close, not really. Placing your hands on your belly, you clung to the small hope that the motion could somehow quiet the storm of fear inside you. But it didn’t work.

The voices of fear echoed in your mind: What if I’m too late? What if it’s over? What if this loneliness never ends? Each scenario was scarier than the last. You closed your eyes, but even the darkness offered no solace. The images in your head only fanned the flames of your terror.

When you finally held the phone in your hand, you knew you had to choose someone to call. Should it be your mom? Or your dad? Maybe… someone else? But what if they couldn’t come? That thought pushed you deeper into despair. It suddenly felt as if the entire world had turned its back on you, as if every person was out of reach. The weight of isolation was crushing.

Your hands were cold and clammy. As your fingers hovered over the screen, trying to pick a name, you felt frozen. You couldn’t move them. It was as though your brain had redirected all its attention to the fluid trickling down your legs and the stabbing pain in your abdomen. Panic consumed you, leaving you paralyzed and unsure of what to do.

A quiet voice in your mind whispered, Everything will be okay. But it was impossible to believe. That voice was so faint, so far away, drowned out by the louder, darker thoughts. Reality felt so distant that even hope seemed like a luxury you couldn’t afford. While your mind scrambled for answers, your body refused to move.

You tightened your grip on your belly, as though holding on harder could anchor you to something, anything. Alone in that dark, silent room, you had never felt smaller. The outside world was shut off from you, leaving only your fears, your thoughts, and the suffocating weight of solitude.

Since moving to this town, you’d thought a lot about loneliness. But now, you truly understood its meaning. Loneliness wasn’t just sitting in silence. It wasn’t merely being by yourself. Loneliness was not having anyone to reach when you needed them most. It was feeling as though your voice couldn’t reach anyone, as though you were invisible.

The trembling didn’t stop. Your eyes darted around, trying to focus on something, anything, but everything was blurry—not because you couldn’t see, but because you couldn’t concentrate. Nothing made sense in that moment.

You searched for a way out. But maybe the only thing you could do was wait. That thought terrified you even more. Waiting... it made you feel so helpless, so powerless. But what else could you do?

Tears welled up again as you struggled to breathe. But each breath felt heavier, each inhale pulling the loneliness deeper into your chest. That loneliness, like a black hole, seemed ready to devour you.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the pool of liquid spreading on the floor. You couldn’t face it. If you didn’t look, maybe it would stay a bad dream. Maybe this was just paranoia playing tricks on your mind.

Even though you could feel the warm liquid dripping down your legs, you clung to the hope that you’d wake up. That you’d open your eyes in bed and thank God it was just a nightmare.

You wanted to wake up. You didn’t want to believe this was real. Not after everything you had done to adjust to this new life. Not after leaving the island to start fresh.

You had left everything behind. Everyone.

For a life with your baby.

You had wanted this baby. Even with your initial doubts, you had wanted it. And for what? To have it taken from you?

Your eyes shut tight as your hand clenched the phone and your other hand pressed harder against your belly. You wished the pain would stop, that the ache—so reminiscent of a menstrual cramp—would just go away.

Only days ago, you’d noticed your belly start to show, a tiny swell that made you smile. You had cradled it with your hands, talked to it, even though you didn’t care if it could hear. You wanted it to know you were there. Just a few days ago, you’d been excited about buying clothes for it.

For this?

For it to be taken away?

When you finally opened your eyes, the only sound in the room was the ticking of the clock. You wanted to block it out. You wanted the sensation in your legs to disappear. For a moment, you convinced yourself it was all in your head. But the warm trickle that followed was a harsh slap of reality.

Your trembling eyes drifted downward. The sight of the blood pooled on the floor knocked the breath out of you. Your heart skipped, as if an elephant had perched on your chest. Your legs gave way. Falling to the floor hurt, but it was nothing compared to the pain in your chest.

You had never seen them. They’d only been with you for five months, but the thought of that bond breaking—of losing them—felt like your heart was being ripped out.

When you love something so deeply, does it always have to be taken away? Is that just the way life works? Had everything led to this moment?

Had you fought with your family, with Rafe, for this? Had you left your entire life behind, moved to this town, just to lose your baby?

Even your family had started to share your joy. They were thrilled for you, as ecstatic as you were. And now, for what? For this?

Were you supposed to mourn?

To learn a lesson, did you really have to fall this hard? You hated it. You didn’t want to learn any more lessons. Not if they hurt this much. If growth meant falling like this, you were ready to stay exactly the same—stagnant, unchanging, and safe.

The moment you felt a fragment of clarity, just enough to push panic aside, you called 911. You couldn’t afford to lose more time. It felt like your mind had snapped back into place, even if only temporarily.

But you had no idea what you were saying. Your words felt foreign, disjointed, even as you tried to describe what was happening. They assured you they’d come to your home. They told you not to hang up.

Then you realized—you needed to call your family. You needed them with you. Right now, you just wanted to be back in Outer Banks, in your own house, surrounded by the people who had always been there for you.

If you were there, you wouldn’t feel this crushing loneliness. They would be by your side.

You didn’t even know how many times you tried. Your fingers repeatedly dialed your mom’s number, then your dad’s, over and over again. Each time, you were met with the same recorded message: unreachable.

Still, you kept calling, clinging to that faint hope that someone, anyone, would answer. But each attempt ended the same way, the monotone voice echoing the same result.

And then, without thinking, your fingers moved on their own. They dialed his number. In that moment, you didn’t care about shame or pride. All that mattered was that you needed help. You needed Rafe. Even if the chance was slim, even if it was just a sliver of hope, you needed him to answer.

As the phone rang, your heart pounded so violently it felt like it would burst out of your chest. Each ring amplified the fragile hope blooming inside you. Your lips moved as if uttering a prayer: “Please pick up.” You needed someone—anyone—to be there, to tell you that everything was going to be okay. Tears streamed down your face as the call rang on, unanswered.

He wouldn’t ignore you, you told yourself. He wouldn’t turn you away. He’d come. You knew he would. He had to. You prayed he wasn’t still angry, that he didn’t hate you for not terminating the pregnancy.

When the call ended without an answer, you didn’t stop. Your trembling hands hit redial without hesitation. Shame and pride were irrelevant now. You needed him. If he wouldn’t come, you needed him to reach your family. You were utterly alone otherwise.

Alone. The word echoed like a hollow drumbeat in your chest.

For a moment, time seemed to stop. The racing of your heart, the chaotic swirl of your thoughts, even your tears—all stilled in the suffocating silence of your own helplessness. But you didn’t give up. You called again. And again. Your trembling fingers barely functioned, struggling to tap the screen. But you kept trying.

Fuck pride. You needed help. You needed someone by your side, someone to hold you, someone to tell you it wasn’t the end. Your lips quivered as you let out a stifled sob. “Please…” When the call went to voicemail yet again, your shoulders shook with the weight of another unanswered prayer.

Wasn’t this his baby too? Didn’t it matter to him? You hadn’t made this baby alone. Surely he would care. You didn’t need him to grieve with you. You just needed him here. And he would come. Rafe was a lot of things, but when it came down to it, he wouldn’t leave you stranded.

Not you.

You had to believe that. You clung to that hope like a lifeline, begging for it to still be true.

Another sob tore through you, reverberating through the empty room. This time, it came from somewhere so deep inside that it left your chest heavy, crushed under the weight of despair. You prayed he’d answer.

You weren’t strong enough to endure this.

You didn’t want to do this alone. You fought to steady your trembling lips, desperate to string together the words you’d need to say if he picked up—when he picked up. But once again, the line went dead.

This time, it felt like a door slamming in your face. But it wasn’t just rejection—it was the crumbling of a trust you hadn’t even realized you still held onto. Deep down, you had truly believed he would answer. That he’d help you. That he wouldn’t leave you to face this on your own.

As the silence deepened, your hands fell to the cold floor, sticky with blood. You didn’t even care. You felt like everything you wanted, everything you’d dreamed of, was slipping through your fingers. Did you not deserve happiness? Had you done something so wrong to deserve this?

You wanted to scream. To set the house on fire, to rip apart the tiny baby clothes you’d just bought.

You nearly buried your face in your hands, but the sight of blood on your fingers stopped you. Frantically, you wiped them on your nightgown, trying to erase it. You wanted it gone—needed it gone. You wanted to forget everything that had happened today.

The phone was still in your hand, your fingers gripping it like it held a flicker of hope. Rafe hadn’t answered. Your family hadn’t answered. Their silence only pushed you deeper into yourself. Your tears began to dry, replaced by a hollow ache gnawing at your insides.

After your final attempt, you let the screen go dark. The reflection of your tear-streaked face stared back at you from the blackened screen, ghostly and unfamiliar. Your lips still trembled with silent cries, your voice barely audible even to yourself.

Then, the phone buzzed. The unexpected vibration made you flinch. The screen lit up, and your heart stuttered before racing into overdrive. A message.

When you saw the name, a fraction of the emptiness lifted. JJ. His name sat there like it belonged, as if the chaos hadn’t touched it. You opened the message, holding your breath.

How’s it going with your new street animal buddies? Found yourself a soulmate yet?

It was stupid. Ridiculous. But somehow, in all its absurdity, that sarcastic tone cracked something open inside you. A tiny window of light broke through the storm.

And yet, the relief was fleeting. Looking at the message, then back at the blood pooling on the floor, your emotions surged in a tangle of anger, helplessness, and unrelenting fear.

You needed him. Right now. Without thinking, your trembling fingers scrolled back to his name.

The name on the screen made your eyes well up. JJ. So ordinary, so simple. Yet, at that moment, it felt like your only tether to life. He’d come. He would, wouldn’t he?

With trembling hands, you pressed the call button. As you held the phone to your ear, the silence was broken only by the erratic pounding of your heart. Each ring sent a jolt of panic through you—what if he didn’t answer? “Please…” you whispered, barely audible. “Please pick up…”

It felt like you were losing your mind. Was this real? Had he really sent that message?

“Hey, Princess. I noticed we’ve upped the calls lately. Can’t manage without me, huh—”

The distant sound of sirens reached your ears, and your lips quivered. Even JJ’s voice, with its usual cocky tone, felt like an anchor. Just hearing him talk, hearing that familiar teasing edge—it was everything. It made you feel as if you’d already done all you could.

“I need you here.”

The words came out shakily, and there was a pause on the other end of the line. One hand rested in your lap, the other gripping the phone, both stained with blood.

To be honest, you were terrified. Not just about what might happen but about losing the baby.

“What’s wrong?” His voice had lost its playful tone, replaced with a sharp seriousness. He was waiting for an answer, but you felt too drained, too scared, to put your fears into words. Saying the possibility of a miscarriage out loud felt impossible.

How did he always know? How could he tell when you needed him the most? Was he like this with everyone, or just you?

When he said your name, you tried to take a deep breath, but it came out broken and shallow. The sirens were getting closer. “I’m bleeding.” The weight of the words nearly crushed you as they left your lips, leaving you lightheaded—not from pain, but from the sheer gravity of it.

You were so used to him being there. The idea of him leaving, of him not being there, was unbearable. “I called everyone, but—”

“I’m on the way. Did you call 911? Listen, I’ll be there, okay? Don’t worry. I’ll get there as fast as I can. You’ll be fine. You’re going to be fine. I’ll meet you at the hospital. Okay? I need you to say something.” His words were quick, determined, unwavering.

You nodded instinctively, even though you knew he couldn’t see it. Even if this was your fate, you didn’t want to accept it.

“I’m scared.” A sob escaped your lips as the sirens grew louder. They were on your street.

“I’m coming. Everything’s going to be okay.”

—

Last night was ordinary. A night that fell short of expectations—not that Rafe knew what he was expecting anymore. He had become a ghost of himself, far from anything resembling pride.

Had he ever been proud of himself, really?

He couldn’t focus on the future or the present; he was stuck in the past.

His eyes had searched for you everywhere. There wasn’t a corner of the Outer Banks he hadn’t roamed. The beach, parties, the country club—he’d scoured them all, just to catch a glimpse of you.

He even shopped at the grocery store near your house, the one far from his own. Almost every day, he’d find himself there, grabbing a drink, some crackers, whatever he could justify, just to linger for a chance to see you.

He missed your presence. Your scent.

He missed the moments in bed with you—not the sex, but the times he held you in his arms, kissed you, and just existed in your warmth. He missed looking into your eyes, the overwhelming urge to tell you he loved you.

But Rafe was a coward. He couldn’t admit that to anyone, not even himself. And you? You already knew. You didn’t need to hear it from anyone.

He hadn’t told his father. He hadn’t told anyone—Topper, Kelce, Sarah, even Wheezie. Not that anyone else could really understand.

You were the only one who truly knew him. And he’d lost you. Because he was a coward.

He missed the sound of your voice. If he could go back, he’d want you to talk more in those old videos. He’d spend hours talking to you if he had the chance again.

He couldn’t adjust to your absence.

When he threw himself into alcohol, he didn’t think much about it. When had he ever truly sat down and thought anything through? All he knew was how to make impulsive decisions that wrecked his life.

He couldn’t stand Topper and Kelce’s phases of chasing random girls, calling them over, laughing at nothing. Rafe’s mind, body, and soul belonged to you. He couldn’t bring himself to touch or even look at anyone else.

Every time he closed his eyes, every time he tried to sleep, the only image in his head was your face.

He hadn’t touched another woman. Not that he tried. He knew he couldn’t. It wouldn’t be the same. They wouldn’t be you.

There was a time when he thrived on quick, meaningless flings. He hated attachments—blamed it on his childhood. He figured it was because he didn’t know what it meant to make love. He never let emotions into it. But with you, it was different.

It was intoxicating—better than anything drugs had ever made him feel. It was addictive.

He loved whispering “I love you” while he was with you. It made him feel like less of the mess he knew he was. But even then, he hadn’t said it enough—like the idiot he was.

You had been gone from his life for almost four months, and the void was unbearable. Not even when he’d tried to quit drugs had he craved their presence the way he craved yours.

It was like he was a teenager nursing his first heartbreak. And yet, somehow, this was the mildest punishment he thought he deserved for his cowardice.

He’d worked so hard to get Ward’s approval, to finally be seen by his father. Ward was noticing him now, for the first time. He could see Rafe’s potential, and Rafe knew it. For once, it wasn’t Sarah he was looking at—it was him.

For the first time, Ward saw Rafe accomplishing something for Cameron Development. For the first time, Rafe gave his father the impression that he was capable of more. After years of begging for attention, Rafe was finally getting it.

But it had cost him you.

He couldn’t bear the thought of losing his father’s approval. He couldn’t face that rejection again. Ward had finally placed a hand on his shoulder, and Rafe didn’t want to feel that hand pulled away.

He hadn’t wanted to lose you, either. That was never part of the plan. It just… happened. Too fast. And he’d been too scared.

Scared of seeing that disappointment in his father’s eyes again.

Everyone around him noticed his spiraling depression, even Topper and Kelce. Though he never opened up to them, they could tell something was wrong. If they noticed, then everyone else must’ve, too. Not that Rafe cared. Nobody dared bring it up to him anyway.

Under Topper and Kelce’s relentless pressure, he found himself at a party. Not to have fun. Not to let loose. But to see you. He spent the night searching for you, glancing around like you might walk in at any second.

He looked for your old friends, the ones he’d seen you with before. He hoped you’d be there, even though he knew it was unlikely. You were pregnant. You probably wouldn’t come. But the possibility, however slim, was enough to drag him there.

That same possibility kept him shopping near your place, day after day.

For the chance of you.

The more he didn’t see you, the more he drank, as if alcohol could drown out the ache. Nothing could fill the emptiness you left behind, but he still clung to his glass, hoping—maybe if he drank enough, he’d hallucinate you.

He didn’t know how much he drank. It didn’t even feel like a party. Topper and Kelce flirted and joked with girls, but Rafe didn’t bother looking their way. He just drank and searched.

You were the one who used to go to parties with him. You were his girl. And Rafe? He was yours. It wasn’t an open relationship; he wouldn’t have shared you with anyone.

You used to pull him onto the dance floor. He’d groan and complain at first, but you always got your way. And once he gave in, he didn’t hate it. Not when he was touching you. He loved every moment he could hold you.

Even now, he could hear your voice in his head, persuading him to dance. Him pretending to resist. You insisting, until he finally caved. What an idiot he’d been. He should’ve just said yes every time. Done anything you asked.

His regrets were endless. His self-loathing, boundless. For being such a coward. For being a failure, yet again.

You had believed in him, even when he didn’t believe in himself. Your faith in him had given him the courage to ask his father for opportunities, small as they were. And with you, he’d felt like he’d succeeded, just a little.

Now he hated himself for choosing his father’s approval over you—and the baby.

The thought of you moving on, raising a child without him, was unbearable. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you with your swollen belly, or playing with your child—his child. And the thought of not being there...

He hated himself for fearing his father more than losing you. For crawling for scraps of his father’s affection like some pathetic creature.

Which he was.

And now, for the rest of his life, he would hate this moment—and himself—for choosing so poorly.

Rafe thought he’d made it home thanks to Topper and Kelce. He vaguely remembered stumbling through the front door and collapsing into Wheezie’s arms. The idea that the tiny girl could hold him up was almost laughable. Somehow, he’d managed to make it to his room.

Wheezie had laid him down on his bed before leaving. You’d have to be an idiot not to notice something was wrong. She knew her brother too well. She hadn’t seen him this quiet, this withdrawn, in a long time.

You were always there with him.

When you were around, Wheezie could hear your laughter coming from Rafe’s room. Even when Rafe was being his usual insufferable self, you made him bearable. She never thought he had that side to him. Frankly, she wasn’t even sure it existed until you came along.

When Rafe opened his eyes the next morning, a sharp, pounding headache greeted him like a cruel companion. The remnants of last night’s party echoed in his skull. Sitting up in bed, hungover and disoriented, fragments of the night before started to drift back into focus—crowds, noise, laughter. The sunlight filtering through the curtains hit him square in the face, intensifying the pain. All he wanted was to throw up and stay in bed for the rest of the day.

He didn’t remember much, just that he went to the party and drank like it was his last night on Earth. Alcohol had been a more reliable friend than Topper or Kelce that night.

Rubbing his hands over his face, he tried to shake off the fog. The smell—his own and the room’s—was rancid, like a stale cocktail of sweat and regret.

He kicked off the covers, intending to get up, when his eyes landed on a single pill and a glass of water sitting on the bedside table. Without thinking, he swallowed the pill and drained the glass.

Stumbling to the window, he threw it open, letting fresh air seep in. He took a quick shower, practically praying for relief from the headache that felt like it was splitting his skull in two. The cold water shocked his system, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to crawl into a dark room and hide there for a week.

Out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his neck and caught a glimpse of his reflection. Dark circles framed his eyes, his face bore the fatigue of a man who hadn’t truly rested in years. The weight pressing down on him wasn’t just from the alcohol; it was everything else. Everything he’d tried to suppress. “You really are a master at screwing things up,” he muttered bitterly at himself.

His gaze drifted around the room—clothes tossed haphazardly on the bed, an empty bottle lying on the floor, a lighter on the nightstand. Even the carpet under his feet made his skin crawl. He needed to pull himself together, maybe eat something, grab a coffee. But first, his phone.

It sat there on the edge of the table, an unspoken threat. Reaching for it, a wave of unease washed over him. He didn’t know who he’d talked to, what he’d said, or worse, what he’d texted. His fingers trembled as he picked it up and unlocked the screen.

Notifications flooded in—group chats, Instagram likes—and then, there they were. Three missed calls.

From you.

His breath hitched. He stared at the screen, the timestamp mocking him. Midnight. One after the other. His thumb hovered over the call log, uncertainty gripping him. Why had you called?

And why at midnight?

It couldn’t be. Not you. Not after everything. You never made the first move, especially not in the middle of the night.

For a moment, he considered calling you back. His thumb ghosted over your name. Should he? Maybe. Or maybe not. What if it led to the same arguments—about the baby, about why you didn’t want to stay, about why he let you go? He could still feel the weight of everything left unsaid between you, haunting him like a shadow.

He dropped the phone back onto the table, running his hands through his hair. Deep down, he knew these questions were rhetorical. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you—or the life you might’ve had together.

Rising from the bed, he moved to his closet, grabbing the first shirt he saw. A hollow ache settled in his chest as he debated whether to call. The courage he’d relied on last night felt a thousand miles away.

Just then, the phone buzzed. Another notification. His heart skipped. Was it you? No. Someone else. But the fleeting hope that it might’ve been you twisted something inside him.

Setting the phone down again, he took a deep breath. *Calm down,* he told himself. But calming down was impossible. The unease coiled tighter, mixing guilt and longing into a cocktail of misery.

Without thinking too much, he hit your name and let the call go through. The ringing filled the room, amplifying his heartbeat. What if you were asleep? What if he woke you? He hated the idea of disturbing you.

The line clicked off before you answered. His worry deepened. What if something had happened to you? His fingers hovered, then dialed again, this time with more urgency.

The second call rang longer. Each tone ratcheted up his anxiety. And then, finally, the line connected.

“Hey,” Your voice was quiet, cautious.

For a moment, Rafe’s words stuck in his throat. He tried to speak, but it felt like someone had stolen his voice. Finally, he managed, “Hey… uh, you called me?”

It sounded weak, tentative. But hearing your voice, even like this, sent a pang straight through him. He missed you more than he could put into words.

A pause. The silence stretched, making him wonder if you were about to hang up. Then you answered, “I was drunk.”

The words hit him like a slap. Drunk? That was it? Just a drunk dial? The thought made his stomach twist. Was it really that meaningless?

“Are you okay?” he asked, this time more firmly, though it took everything not to press harder.

“I’m fine.” But your tone was too quick, too dismissive. He knew you better than that. He could always tell when you were lying. But he didn’t push. Maybe he didn’t want to know the truth.

“Alright,” he said, not knowing what else to say. He wanted to keep you on the line, to hear more, to find some excuse to hold onto this moment.

“Okay,” you said, your voice faltering briefly before you caught yourself. “I have to go.”

And just like that, the call ended. The short beep that followed felt like a final blow, sealing the unbearable silence around him.

Rafe stared at the phone. Drunk. The word echoed in his head. It collided with another thought, one that sent a chill through him. Did she…?

Had you gone through with it? The decision he’d pushed you toward but never truly wanted? He’d convinced himself it was the right thing to do, but now the thought made his chest tighten unbearably.

He slumped back into his chair, burying his face in his hands. He didn’t know how to feel—relief, regret, or something else entirely. But one thing was clear: he hadn’t stopped loving you. And that realization hit him harder than anything else.

He glanced at the phone one last time. Your name was still there on the screen, a painful reminder of everything he’d lost.

He thought about texting you but stopped. No words felt right. Maybe silence was all he deserved. After all, what was left to say when you’d already walked away for good?

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