#like do you ever just want to know if youre someones dream girl?
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dollyichi · 2 days ago
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WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE : BLUE LOCK EDITION . . . m—dni. f ! reader / it’s either pretty tame or freaky idk / doing it raw / creamp!es / virginity and being inexperienced / some ooc but this is just for fun / not proofread
FEATURING ⋮ isagi, nagi, karasu, rin, barou, kunigami, chigiri
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isagi yoichi ⋮ before your relationship was established he really really liked you and didn’t want to mess it up. but then he wasn’t sure if you were on the pill but the sex was so good he ended up coming inside you. proceeded to suck his cum out for your pussy cause of the panic. didn’t have sex with you for a week after that but you were fine.
nagi seishiro ⋮ played a game where he can customize the character and got really pissed off because it wasn’t even half as pretty as you. sulking each time he dies because he think he ‘failed you.’ ended up quitting the game too because he found out there was sex in the game and he wouldn’t want the ‘game you’ being with anyone else that wasn’t him. even got jealous one time because he didn’t know that he was increasing his character’s relationship level with an npc who looked too much like his teammate. too many emotions while you’re watching him lose his mind when you’re perfectly fine eating snacks on the bed. having to console him by riding him and telling him you only love him and not barou.
tabito karasu ⋮ pays for your nails when you get an appointment so you could jack him off after. will also take photos of your nails for you, with one jerking his cock of course. got this pavlov effect that he gets hard every time you show him your fresh new set. yeah he’s ruined.
itoshi rin ⋮ he was a virgin before he met you, and ended up cumming each time he bottomed out the first few times you guys did it. he was inexperienced and very sensitive since he wasn’t used to it. he was still always hard after so it didn’t matter. unaware he was crying one time because he was so overstimulated while you’re clenching down so hard causing his cum to spill.
shoei barou ⋮ you were supposed to meetup with someone else that your friend suggested but you weren’t really sure if it was him when you arrived at the meeting place. ended up going on the date with him and hooking up at the end only for you to find out he wasn’t actually the guy. “what was i supposed to do? deny a pretty girl like you?” went on a few more dates anyway and ended up establishing the relationship properly <3 [ do not be like them! ]
rensuke kunigami ⋮ you were the first person to ever give him head. it felt too good and better than expected. you told him you weren’t too experienced but you worked on him like a pro. he was scared he could hurt you so instead of holding onto your head he gripped onto the wooden headboards. when he came, he held onto it too hard he broke the top part in half.
chigiri hyoma ⋮ moaned out your name during a wet dream. until it shifted, “take it! fucking take it” he said. his teammates weren’t sure if they should wake him up any time soon and they weren’t too sure how to face you after hearing that.
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do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works
note : i have no idea what came over me writing these but here u go crying during sex rin hell yeah!!!
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repulsive-manwhore · 3 days ago
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after so much time spent waiting for this moment, you finally arrive. you pull up to the carpark, in front of the hotel. you only just get out of your taxi when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.
"unknown number?" you whisper nervously under your breath. you let it go to voicemail as your eyes dart around the parking lot, looking for someone, anyone. you know you're being watched. you can feel it in your gut, but you don't see a figure in the shadows or a set of wandering eyes anywhere. just emptiness. just the buzz of the lights above you in the carpark... and another buzz, from your pocket once more.
same number. you pick up this time.
"nice makeup."
your breath catches in your chest as your mind races frantically for a response. you know that voice. you've been cumming to that voice, clenching your legs together to it long distance for months now. and now he's about to make sure you keep your promises. all the things you told him you wanted him to do to you. all the things your whore mind has been dreaming of since you met him.
"where are you?"
"go into the lobby. tell the receptionist you need a key card for the third floor. she'll know it's for you."
you look around one more time before walking inside, hoping to catch just a glimpse of his face, those piercing eyes you know him for. nothing. "fuck..."
you walk in, dragging your luggage behind you, your bags feeling like they're filled with bricks from how weak his voice alone just made you. you do as you ask, and the receptionist hands you your room key. no, not your room key. his room key... daddy's room key...
"third floor, right?"
"third floor."
you get into the elevator and press your floor's button, and as you slowly make your way up, you hear a car door open and close over the phone in the background. and that voice once more, his footsteps on the pavement causing every hair on your body to stand on end.
"tell me when you get out of the elevator."
you arrive at your floor, and you step out. "i just got off..."
"good girl," he mutters under his breath, taking one last drag off a cigarette before exhaling as you hear him stomp it out with his shoe on the asphalt. "now, you have about 2 minutes to get to your room, see what i have laid out for you on that bed, and prepare yourself for me. and when i get there, you better be fucking ready for me. or you're gonna be sorry you even came here tonight."
he hangs up the phone and the line goes flat, and your heart begins to pound harder than it ever has in your life. you're panicking now, racing down the hall to that room, fiddling with the lock. the card. the stupid fucking card your hands are shaking so bad you can barely slide it into the slot why won't it fucking go in? finally you hear a click, the green light above the handle blinks. you turn it and burst into the room, slamming the door shut behind you. and on that bed in front of you, as you gaze upon the room you're in now, is every toy, every device your corrupted slut mind has ever wanted to have used on her. and you quickly realize this isn't just a room. this is your fucking prison now. you know you have no time, no choice. you grab what you can. "handcuffs, butt plug, blindfold, will that be enough? i hope it'll be enough..."
you strip yourself naked, prepare his favorite hole for him, restrain your wrists in front of you, and kneel on the floor. and as you hear his footsteps once more, slowly creeping down the hall, you begin to sob, as you lower that blindfold over your eyes, not knowing what he's about to do to you. only that he's gonna make it hurt like hell.
everything is pitch black as you hear the door creak open, and he's right there now, making his way across the room. you hear a knife flick open and immediately the tears start to flood. he slams his hand over your mouth as you feel that cold blade press against your neck, drawing just the slightest amount of blood, just enough for you to feel it. and for the first time, he speaks to you in person. his first command to you, his obedient little rapetoy...
"i'm about to make every second you spend on this vacation with daddy your worst nightmare, you pretty, worthless little whore..."
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eu-nicola · 15 hours ago
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star girl
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summary: you were always in love with JJ and when he finally noticed you, someone had to appear to make him take his attention off of you.
warnings: nothing
word counter: 5403
author’s note: english is not my first language, unfortunately I don't know what's going on and i can't tag anyone.
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The first time you realized you had a crush on JJ Maybank, you were nine years old. It was a hot afternoon on the Outer Banks, and everyone was at the beach. John B and the other boys were competing to see who could run the fastest to the pier. You, as always, were sitting on the sand, watching from a distance, knees drawn to your chest, wanting to be a part of his world. 
You couldn't take your eyes off JJ. His carefree smile, the sparkle in his blue eyes, the messy blonde hair that seemed to catch the sunlight. Even at that age, there was something special about him, an energy that drew you in without you being able to help it. While John B protected you like the older brother he was, you dreamed that one day JJ would look at you the way he looked at the ocean waves: with admiration, with interest. But for years, that day never came. 
To him, you were always John B’s little sister, a constant but almost invisible presence in his life. The girl who ran after the Pogues, who listened to their stories from the corner of the room, laughing when everyone else did, but who never got a special glance from JJ.
Until that night.
It was at one of those impromptu parties at the Routledge house, with the sound of the ocean in the background and lights hanging on the porch. The air was heavy with salt and laughter, and you had decided, almost without thinking, that tonight would be different. You had spent hours choosing what to wear, looking for a balance between casual and what might catch his attention. The short dress you chose was simple, but it knew how to highlight your subtle curves, the ones JJ had never noticed before.
When you got to the backyard, the party was already in full swing. Kie was dancing with Sarah near the fire pit, and John B was busy talking to Pope about a new adventure. But you weren’t looking for either of them. There was only one person on your mind.
You saw him leaning against the porch railing, a beer in his hand, talking to a blonde girl you didn’t know. Your heart sank for a moment. Sure, he was with another girl. He was always with some girl. But instead of turning around and giving up, something in you decided that this time you weren’t going to stay in the shadows.
You walked towards the group confidently, feigning a confidence you didn’t really feel, but that seemed to convince everyone. JJ saw you approach, and for the first time, his eyes stopped on you, not in passing, not as his best friend’s sister, but as someone who, for some reason, deserved his attention.
“Do you want a beer?” he offered, with that crooked smile that had always driven you crazy.
“Sure,” you replied with an equally confident smile, though inside your heart was pounding.
They spent the night talking, laughing, sharing glances you hadn’t imagined possible. It wasn’t just the beer; it was the way his fingers brushed yours as he passed you a bottle, the way his eyes roamed your face as if he were seeing it for the first time. He made you feel alive, wanted.
And then, close to midnight, when everyone was too busy to notice, he led you away from the hustle and bustle, to the back of the house, where the shadows met the moonlight.
“I always thought you were different,” he murmured, his voice low, his eyes fixed on yours.
“Different how?” you asked, barely breathing, afraid it was all a dream.
“I don’t know… I’ve never seen you like this before. But now I can’t stop looking at you.”
And then he kissed you. It was gentle at first, like he was testing something he had been waiting to discover. Your hands gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, afraid that if you let go, the moment would fade. 
Ever since that night at the party, your relationship with JJ became a secret that throbbed between the two of you, hidden in the margins of your lives. When you were around others, he was still the same JJ: charismatic, carefree, the boy who joked with John B and made everyone laugh. But in those moments when his eyes met yours, there was something different. Something that only you two shared. 
The escapades began to become more frequent. At first, they were small encounters: a furtive glance from across the room, the purposeful brush of your hands as you passed him a bottle, or a smile that disappeared as quickly as it had come. But over time, those stolen moments stopped being enough. 
There were nights when JJ would send you a short, simple text: “Meet you at the dock.” And you, unable to resist, would sneak out of the house while John B slept, slipping through the shadows until you reached him. There, under the dim light of the stars and the sound of the waves crashing against the wood, JJ would wait for you. Always with that mischievous smile, always with the promise of making you forget the world for a while.
“Do you ever wonder what would happen if John B knew?” you asked one night, as you both sat on the edge of the dock, your feet dangling over the water.
JJ looked at you, his smile fading for a moment. He knew the question was going to come sooner or later.
“He’d probably kill me,” he replied with a soft laugh, but there was a truth in his words that made you shudder.
“I know,” you murmured, fiddling with a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweatshirt. It was the reality that always hung over the both of you, a cloud that never quite went away.
JJ slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. His fingers traced soft circles on your skin, as if he wanted to calm your thoughts.
“But I also know I can’t stop looking at you,” he whispered close to your ear. “I don’t want to.”
His words hit you with a mix of excitement and fear. Because even though JJ was impulsive, and sometimes he didn’t think about the consequences, you knew his feelings were real. He didn’t say it to make you feel good, but because he truly meant it.
There were always boundaries, though. They never talked about the future, never wondered what they were to each other. Everything stayed in the present, in what they could steal from each other while no one was looking. And even though you wanted more—more of his touch, more of his glances, more of his time—there was a part of you that was afraid to ask for it.
There were days when reality hit you harder. Like when you saw him flirting with other girls at parties, his easy smile and undeniable charm melting hearts in its wake. You knew he’d always been like that, and that, in theory, you had no right to feel jealous. It wasn’t anything serious.
But it hurt.
“Why does it bother you?” he asked you once, after you confronted him about spending too much time with a girl at a party.
“I don’t know…” you lied, but you both knew the truth.
JJ looked at you with those blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He moved in slowly, his fingers brushing your cheek before he cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“You’re the one who’s here with me now” he whispered, his lips just inches from yours. “Not her.”
And when he kissed you, all your thoughts faded away, at least for a moment.
But reality always came back.
Despite the doubts that lingered in your head, you kept looking at JJ. Because even though there were no promises, even though he never assured you anything, you were willing to settle for what he gave you. It was enough… or at least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.
But then, she showed up.
Her name was Emma. She wasn’t the type that usually hung out in the Outer Banks, nor some random girl who showed up at parties. She was new to the island, with a dazzling smile and a carefree air that caught everyone’s attention… including JJ.
The first time you saw her was at one of those beach gatherings, where all the Pogues and a few Kooks mingled. You were sitting near Kie and Sarah, enjoying the warmth of the fire, when you noticed her. Tall, blonde, with the kind of confidence that seemed to light up the place she was in.
But what really made you tense was seeing how JJ looked at her. It was a look you recognized all too well. The same one he’d started giving you in those first few encounters. The same one that had made you feel visible, wanted.
And now, that look was directed at someone else.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to ignore it, telling yourself it meant nothing. JJ had always been charming with girls, always flirted. But there was a difference this time. Emma wasn’t just another one.
“Are you okay?” Sarah asked you, noticing your silence.
“Yes, everything is fine” you lied, forcing a smile that barely managed to convince her.
That night, JJ spent most of his time with Emma. He helped her light a new fire, offered her a beer, and when she laughed at one of his jokes, you felt something snap inside you.
He barely looked at you.
You tried not to give it any importance, thinking it was just one night. That the next day, things would go back to the way they were. But they didn't.
From that point on, Emma showed up at every party, every impromptu get-together, and JJ always found an excuse to get close to her. It seemed like the whole world had shrunk to that girl… except for you.
There was one afternoon when everyone decided to go surfing. You were used to seeing JJ in the water, seeing how his smile lit up when he challenged the waves. But that day, instead of being by your side, he was teaching Emma how to balance on the board. She was laughing nervously, and he was completely focused on her, as if nothing else mattered.
You felt the air grow heavy, like you couldn’t breathe. And though you tried to stay calm, it was hard not to notice how your presence had ceased to be relevant to him.
Later, as everyone relaxed on the sand, JJ walked over to where you were sitting alone, drawing circles in the sand with his fingers.
“Hey, what’s wrong? You’ve been really quiet lately,” he said, his carefree smile on, as if he hadn’t noticed anything.
Of course he hadn’t noticed.
“Nothing. I’m fine,” you murmured, not meeting his eyes.
“Are you sure?” he insisted, leaning slightly towards you, as if he wanted to figure out what you weren’t saying.
“Yeah, JJ. I’m fine,” you said more firmly, even though you knew it was an obvious lie.
He looked at you for a second longer, as if he was about to say something, but then Emma called out to him from the shore. And without a second thought, JJ stood up and walked away, leaving behind a void that seemed to grow ever larger.
That night, there was no “See you at the dock” text.
You stayed in your room, staring at the ceiling, wondering when Emma became his center of attention.
The next few days were silent torment. Emma kept showing up everywhere, and JJ was still by her side, oblivious to you. Every time you saw them together, every time you heard his laughter mixing with hers, you felt like you might… you didn’t even know.
Until one night, when the tension became unbearable, JJ found you alone on the dock, the same place where it had all started. He sat down next to you, the sound of the water breaking the silence between you.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been distant,” he said, glancing at you out of the corner of your eye. “Is something going on?”
You looked at him, and for the first time, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.
“You really don’t notice, JJ?” you asked, your voice filled with a mix of frustration and hurt.
“Notice what?” he replied, genuinely confused, as if everything that was going on between you had been invisible to him.
And there, at that moment, you understood. JJ Maybank was an idiot.
“Forget it,” you whispered, getting up from the spot and walking in another direction.
JJ watched you leave for a second longer, wanting to understand, but in the end, he simply stayed silent. Because to him, everything was fine.
The next day dawned hot, and the beach seemed like the only logical place to spend the afternoon. The boys had decided to surf, while you, Sarah, and Kie settled down on the sand, towels spread out and sunglasses covering your faces. The sun was beating down, and although you tried to relax and concentrate on the light conversation your friends were having, your gaze inevitably sought out JJ.
You found him quickly. It wasn’t hard. He was in the water, near the waves, with Emma. She was laughing, splashing as he helped her stabilize on the board, like he’d done with you so many times before. There was an ease in the way JJ moved with her, like nothing in the world could interrupt them. And it hurt more than you were willing to admit.
“Are you burning?” Kie asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“Oh? No… I’m fine,” you answered quickly, adjusting your sunglasses to hide the frown you hadn’t been able to help.
You tried to stay present, to laugh at the right moments, to talk about anything but what was really bothering you. But your eyes kept returning to JJ and Emma, ​​like they were impossible magnets to control. Every laugh from her, every smile from him, stuck in you like a needle.
After a while, you got tired. Tired of pretending you didn’t care.
“I’m going to the water to cool off a bit,” you announced, getting up from your towel and brushing the sand off your legs.
“I’ll join you in a bit,” Sarah said, but you were already walking toward the shore.
The water was cool, an immediate relief from the scorching heat. You waded in up to your ankles, letting the small waves splash against your feet as you stared at the horizon. You took a deep breath, trying to drown out that feeling of discomfort that had been haunting you for days.
The sound of footsteps approaching behind you made you turn your head slightly. JJ.
“Aren’t you going to go any further in?” he asked, with that lazy smile he always seemed to have.
You didn’t answer. Instead, you continued to stare at the water, as if he wasn’t there. As if his presence didn’t affect you.
JJ didn’t seem to be put off by your silence. He moved closer, until he was close enough for his feet to touch the water as well.
“Are you mad at me?” he asked in a nonchalant tone, as if it was all a game to him.
“No, JJ. I’m not mad,” you murmured, not looking at him.
But he knew you well enough to know that wasn’t true. There was a moment of silence, and then, you felt it. His hand brushing your back, his fingers playing with the thin strap of your bikini.
“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to look at him, but it was too late. With a quick, precise movement, JJ peeled off the top strap of your bikini.
“JJ!” “Oh,” you exclaimed, heart racing as you scrambled to hold the fabric to your chest, keeping it from falling. Your eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and anger.
He laughed, that carefree laugh that always seemed to come out of him so easily.
“Relax, no one saw,” he said, quickly looking around. It was true. Sarah and Kie were still talking to each other on the sand, and everyone else was busy in their own worlds. No one was paying attention… except you.
“Why did you do that?” you asked, your voice steady, trying to stay calm as you tied your bikini back up.
JJ shrugged, that mischievous spark in his eyes.
“I wanted to see how you tanned.”
The answer made you boil inside. What was a light joke to him was an invasion to you, a reminder of how he always seemed to take everything lightly, even when you were at the edge of an emotional abyss.
You stared at him, your eyes burning.
“Why don’t you check to see if Emma has tanned?” you shot back, an edge to your voice that you couldn’t hide.
JJ raised an eyebrow, surprised by your response. The amusement on his face faded for a second, replaced by something that looked like curiosity.
“Are you jealous?” he asked, tilting his head, studying you like you were a puzzle he hadn’t finished putting together.
Jealous. The word hung in the air, heavy, loaded with meaning. Of course you were, but you would never admit it to him. Not to him. Not after how he’d been ignoring you.
“Don’t make me laugh, JJ,” you said sarcastically, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why would I be jealous? What you do with Emma is none of my business, is it?”
You saw him tense, if only for a second. But JJ was JJ, and he quickly returned to his carefree facade.
“You’re right,” he said, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s none of your business.”
The coldness of his words hit you harder than you expected. You felt a lump in your throat, but you refused to show him how much it had affected you.
“Exactly,” you said firmly, giving him one last look before turning and walking away from him, back towards the beach.
As you walked away, you could feel his gaze on your back. But you didn’t look back. Because even though a part of you wanted him to follow you, to say something, anything to show that he cared, you knew he wouldn’t.
After that day at the beach, something changed inside you. It was like you had finally crossed a line that had no way back. You could no longer pretend that what JJ did didn’t affect you, that his indifference didn’t hurt you. So you decided to stop trying.
You would ignore him.
Every time he came close, you would walk away. Whenever he made a group comment, you just looked away. And if he ever tried to start a conversation with you, your answers were short, curt, just enough for him to understand that you didn’t want anything from him.
But it was a lie.
You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. Not when you still felt that flutter in your stomach every time you saw him smile, or when his laugh, the one that seemed to fill all the space around him, reached your ears. But you wanted him to think you hated him. You wanted him to feel, at least a little, the rejection you had felt.
The first time you deliberately ignored him was at a meeting. You were sitting on the couch, surrounded by friends, when JJ walked in, as always, with an energy that seemed to light up the room.
“Hey,” he greeted, with that easy smile that used to make you melt.
“Hey,” everyone answered, except you.
You didn’t even look up. You just kept looking at your phone, as if he wasn’t there.
He noticed. You knew because he paused for a second, like he was waiting for you to say something. But when you didn’t, he moved toward the group, his smile barely faltering.
Later, he tried to approach you again. You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink, when you felt him behind you.
“Are you hiding from me?” he asked in a light, almost mocking tone.
“I don’t have to hide from anyone, JJ,” you replied without looking at him, your voice so cold it almost surprised you.
He leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you. It was his classic move, the carefree guy one, but you weren’t willing to fall for it anymore.
“Why aren’t you talking to me?” he finally asked, his tone more serious.
“I have nothing to tell you,” you replied, focusing back on your drink.
“Nothing?” he insisted, taking a step closer. Not even to tell me why you're acting like I did something terrible to you?
You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. It was hard to stand your ground when he was so close, when you could feel his presence enveloping you.
“I’m not acting. I just have no interest in talking to you. That’s all.”
“Are you sure?” JJ asked, a spark of defiance in his eyes. “Because it seems more like you’re avoiding me.”
You shot him a look loaded with intent.
“JJ, it’s not all about you. You’re not as important as you think.”
The lie came out more bitter than you expected. Because, actually, it was. He’d always been important to you, but you refused to admit it.
JJ fell silent, as if he were evaluating your words. Finally, he let out a low laugh, the laugh that used to enchant you but now only seemed to infuriate you.
“Okay,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. “If that’s what you want, I’ll leave you alone.”
“Perfect,” you replied, turning your back on him and walking out of the kitchen before he could say anything else.
But it wasn’t as easy as you thought. Ignoring him took more effort than you anticipated. Because JJ wasn’t the type to accept being ignored easily. He was still looking for excuses to get close to you, to invade your space with his unmistakable presence.
There was one afternoon at the beach when you were with Sarah and Kie, laughing and enjoying the sun, when he appeared with his surfboard under his arm. He stopped near where you were standing, as if he was looking for something… or someone.
“You coming to the water?” he asked, addressing the group, but with his eyes on you.
“No. We’re fine here,” Kie replied before you could speak.
But JJ didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at you as if he was waiting for a specific answer. One that never came.
Finally, he turned around and walked towards the water, but not before giving you one last look, as if he was trying to figure out the wall you had put up between you.
The tension between you had grown like a storm about to break loose. Ignoring him had been your strategy, and JJ had played his part at first. But like everything involving him, it couldn’t last long. You were both too impulsive, too passionate to keep pretending you didn’t care.
The opportunity for it all to explode came at one of the parties that always seemed to bring everyone together. With loud music, flashing lights, and the beach in the background. The air was charged with energy, but you were tense from the moment you arrived. You knew JJ would be there, and even though you had spent days perfecting the skill of ignoring him, something told you that tonight would be different.
You leaned against a wall near the kitchen, holding a glass in your hand, watching the crowd dance and laugh. Sarah and Kie were nearby, talking to some guys, but you weren’t in the mood to socialize. Your gaze, as always, sought him out. And you found him.
JJ was there, in the center of the room, laughing with his friends and… with Emma. She was beside him, too close, laughing at something he had said. It was a scene you had seen repeated too many times in the past few weeks, and it hurt more and more each time.
You tried to ignore it, as you had been doing, but that night it was harder. Something inside you was on the verge of breaking.
“Are you okay?” Kie asked, coming closer.
“Yeah, sure,” you lied, giving her a forced smile.
She looked at you curiously, but didn’t insist. She didn’t want to talk about JJ. She didn’t want to think about him… but it was impossible not to.
A couple of hours later, the party was still at its peak. You had decided to go out to the backyard to get some fresh air. The cool breeze was a relief against the heat you felt inside. You were standing, staring at the waves in the distance, when you heard him.
“Are you going to keep avoiding me all night?”
JJ’s voice.
You didn’t need to turn around to know he was behind you. You could feel his presence, so familiar and so frustrating. You pressed your lips together and took a deep breath before slowly turning around.
“I didn’t know I had to talk to you, JJ,” you replied coldly, crossing your arms over your chest.
He looked at you, his blue eyes shining with that mix of confusion and determination that always managed to disarm you. But this time you refused to fall.
“Really?” he asked, taking a step closer. “Are you going to keep doing this? Because I’m tired. I’m tired of you ignoring me, of you acting like I don’t exist.”
You stared at him, your heart pounding. You had expected that confrontation, but now that it was here, you didn’t know if you were ready to face it.
“And what did you expect me to do, JJ?” you asked, your voice rising slightly. “Keep pretending everything was okay? Because it’s not.”
He frowned, crossing his arms.
“Pretending? What are you talking about? Everything was fine until you started acting like you hated me.”
The word “hate” made you shudder. It wasn’t hate, it never had been, but you wanted him to believe it.
“I don’t hate you, JJ,” you said, voice softer this time, but still laden with emotion. “What bothers me is that… you just don’t realize it.”
“Realize what?” he asked, genuinely interested now, his tone more serious.
That was the moment. You could feel it in the air, like everything around you had stopped, waiting for your answer.
“About how I feel about you.” The words came out before you could stop them, and once they were said, there was no going back. “I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, JJ. And every time you ignore me, every time I see you with Emma or any other girl… it hurts.” It hurts more than I can bear.
JJ stared at you, as if he was processing every word. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and that silence was worse than any answer.
“I didn’t know…” he finally murmured, his voice seeming softer, more vulnerable.
“How could you know?” you said, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “You never looked at me like that. I was always John B’s sister, or just another friend. I was never enough for you, was I?”
He shook his head, taking a step closer. He was in front of you now, so close you could feel his heat.
“Don’t say that. It’s not true.”
“No?” you asked, challenging him with your gaze. “Because that’s how you’ve made me feel.”
JJ raised his hand, hesitating for a moment before gently placing it on your cheek. The contact was electric, as always, but this time you weren’t about to let that confuse you.
“You are more than enough.” You always have been… but I’m the idiot who didn’t see it.” His voice was sincere, full of something you hadn’t heard before: regret.
“JJ…” You whispered his name, your eyes searching for his, but this time there were no barriers. Everything was there, exposed.
And for the first time, there were no more games, no more lies. Just the two of you, face to face, with the truth finally spoken.
JJ looked at you with an intensity you had rarely seen in him. His blue eyes were fixed on yours, and for an instant, everything around you disappeared. It was just the two of you, with the truth floating in the air, no masks, no games.
“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice low, but full of emotion. “I never wanted to make you feel that way.”
Despite the emotions bubbling in your chest, a part of you still resisted. You had spent so much time building that wall between you that letting it fall suddenly made you feel vulnerable, exposed.
“JJ…” you started, but he didn’t let you continue.
“Listen to me.” His hand was still on your cheek, and his thumb traced a light circle on your skin, sending a shiver through your body. “I don’t know when I started feeling this… the way I feel about you. But it’s there. I know it now, and I don’t want to ignore it anymore. I don’t want to lose you anymore.”
Your heart skipped a beat. You had dreamed of hearing something like this so many times that it seemed unreal now.
“What about Emma?” you asked, your voice still heavy with caution. “You seem pretty interested in her lately.”
JJ frowned slightly, as if the mere mention of Emma was irrelevant at the moment.
“Emma doesn’t mean anything.” His answer was firm, sincere.
His words made a wave of heat run through you. For a moment, you wanted to believe him, but there was still a part of you that wanted to hold on to the resentment, to the distance you had kept. It was easier than giving yourself over completely.
JJ noticed your hesitation, and with a mischievous smile that you knew well, he added:
“You know, I like it when you ignore me… but I prefer it when you talk to me.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head. His ability to disarm you with a simple sentence was still intact.
“Don’t get used to this, JJ.” Your eyes met his, a spark of defiance flashing in them. “I may go back to hating you. It was more fun.”
He laughed, genuine and carefree, as if your words were exactly what he needed to hear.
“I doubt it.” He leaned in slightly, getting so close that his breath brushed your lips. “But if you do… I promise I’ll find a way to make you like me again.”
The world seemed to stop for a second. The air between you was thick with tension, but this time it wasn’t the same tension you’d been carrying around for weeks. This time it was different. It was something new, something real.
And when JJ finally closed the distance, brushing your lips against his in a slow kiss filled with everything that had been left unsaid, you knew that no matter how hard you tried to resist, there was no turning back. You were lost in him, as always, but this time he was lost in you too.
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leftoverghosts · 3 days ago
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i am drowning
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there is no sign of land.
Patrick's announcement hit you like a tennis ball to the gut. He had just gotten back from winning the junior US Open, but instead of celebrating together, he was ending things between you. The sharp sting of disappointment cut through your heart as you struggled to make sense of it all. This wasn't the end of your relationship, though.
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patrick zweig x reader. patrick x tashi. mentioned tashi x art.
warnings: angst. like angst for the sake of angst. sex at the end. some curse words. not for minors. p in v sex. use of she/her for reader. no use of y/n. patrick sleeps with reader for a bed.
nori says: hiiiiiii, i've been lurking in the challengers tag and now have something to contribute. this is heavily inspired by the break up scene in whiplash. it just feels so patrick coded. also, i love tashi, it's not her fault that the boys were weird about her. send me ideas if you want to! xoxo.
word count: 4,818
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2006, September. Per Se Restaurant, Manhattan.
“Also, Patrick has a girlfriend.” Art had told Tashi, and Patrick had responded with “I do not”.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
“I can’t believe your dad let us use his reservations. This is the coolest thing ever! I feel so grown up,” a cheerful voice interrupts Patrick’s thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment. Sitting across from you now, celebrating his triumphant win at the Junior US Open, he can't ignore the guilt and doubts that gnaw at him. Though you were never officially a couple, there were undeniable feelings between you two and Patrick had pursued you relentlessly. He couldn't resist your sweetness, especially since you’ve been friends for so long and despite being just a teenage boy with wandering eyes fixed on tennis skirts, even he understands that you genuinely care about him.
Patrick thinks with all the agony that the thing between his legs can muster, that he’s an asshole, that he shouldn’t of fucked up this situationship only to chase after a girl who made him compete for her attention. Part of him hates himself for betraying your trust and pining after someone else, but the other part of him is drawn to Tashi in a way he can't explain. She gets him, but more importantly, she understands true tennis.
Patrick fidgets with his cup of water, tracing your name on the condensation as if it holds some sort of salvation. But deep down, he knows that no amount of apologies or excuses can change what he has done.
"Listen, I have to be honest with you," Patrick finally speaks up, his voice strained with emotion.
You pause, feeling a sense of unease settle in your stomach as you wait for him to continue.
"I can't keep pretending that this is going to work out. My dreams of becoming a professional tennis player are consuming more and more of my time and focus. And when I am with you, all I can think about is training and winning matches."
As his confession sinks in, your world tilts on its axis. The realization hits you with startling clarity - his passion for tennis surpasses everything else in his life, casting a shadow over what bloomed between you. You always knew that tennis was important to Patrick, but you never fully understood just how significant it was until now. Your mind flashes back to all the times you thought tennis was just a hobby for him, a way to cope with his parents' high expectations. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you realize that this is not how you imagined your relationship with Patrick ending. You try to hold back your emotions, but they overflow despite your best efforts.
"You'll probably start feeling like I'm ignoring you and get mad that tennis is more important to me than our relationship," he continues, regret evident in his eyes. "And if you ask me to ease up on my training, I won't be able to comply because this is my passion. It's what I was born to do."
"Where is this coming from, Pat?" you ask, your voice trembling with hurt. You had never wanted to come between Patrick and his dreams, but now it seems like there was no other option.
“It’s been building up for a while.” In the midst of shattered expectations and unspoken regrets, Patrick's gaze meets yours fleetingly before retreating, unable to withstand the weight of your hurt and disappointment. The truth hangs heavy in the air - priorities laid bare, futures diverging like roads leading into different horizons. "Because sooner or later, we will start resenting each other for not understanding our priorities. It's better to end things now before they turn toxic."
"I can't believe this, I thought we were in this together." Your palms are clammy and your heart races as you try to process everything. You had been nothing but supportive of him, rearranging your schedule whenever he came home from the academy just to spend time with him. But now he’s telling you that it wasn't enough.
"We were, but I wanna be one of the greats.” He sighs.
“And would I stand in your way?”
“Yeah.”
“You know I would, you're sure about that?” You ask, wishing this would just stop. “Yes.” He reaches out to take your hand, but you pull away, unable to bear his touch after what he's done. "I'm sorry," he mutters, his face contorted with guilt and sadness, and the knowledge that he’s a liar. That this conversation is only happening because he’s chasing greatness and Tashi Duncan.
"I'm just a naive girl to you, aren't I? Someone who will never measure up to your grand ambitions.” As the words tumbled out of your mouth, your voice quivers with hurt and disbelief. You couldn't comprehend how someone that you love could make you feel so worthless. “You'll leave me behind as you chase after greatness," you cried out, feeling utterly small and insignificant in his eyes. “You don’t understand me. You never have." His accusation is like sharp, dagger-like punctuation mark, ready to cut off any lingering hopes and pierce through the heart of your relationship.
You look at him, feeling a mix of anger and heartache. "Why did you even bother pursuing me then? If your tennis career was always going to come first?"
"I'm sorry," he finally says, his voice heavy with remorse. "I never should have said those things."
His apology hangs in the air, hollow and insufficient. The bustling restaurant fades into the background as you try to comprehend the sudden change in your reality.
"Sorry doesn't fix this, Patrick," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Patrick runs a hand through his curly hair, frustration etched across his face. "I know, I know. I'm messing everything up. It's just... there's so much pressure. The tennis, my parents, the academy. And now..."
He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You lean forward, searching his face.
"And now what, Pat? What aren't you telling me?"
Patrick's blue eyes meet yours for a moment before darting away. "There's someone else," he admits quietly.
Your heart shatters into a million pieces, each shard piercing your chest with unbearable pain. The revelation hits you like a serve you never saw coming, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You struggle to find words, your mind reeling from the betrayal.
"Someone else?" you finally manage to choke out, your voice barely audible over the clinking of glasses and murmur of conversation around you. "Who?"
Patrick shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your gaze. "Her name is Tashi. We met at a party after the tournament. She's... she understands tennis in a way that—"
The name strikes a chord of recognition. Tashi Duncan. You've heard whispers about her – the rising star in the tennis world, known for her fierce determination and unmatched skill on the court. Suddenly, everything clicks into place. The late-night phone calls, the distracted looks, the growing distance between you and Patrick
"That I never could," you finish for him, bitter understanding washing over you. Of course. Of course it would be someone from his world, someone who could match his ambition step for step.
"I think she could make me really happy," Patrick says, his voice pleading for you to just get it.
“You know, I really do hope that you make it. I hope you get to be number one or whatever,” You let out a wet scoff, he could have at least let you finish your meal. “But I’m glad that I’ll never understand you, Patrick.”
With those words, the conversation comes to a halt as you both sit in stunned silence. The waitress brings over your food, but neither of you have an appetite anymore. Patrick pushes his plate away, his stomach churning with guilt and regret. He realizes now that breaking things off like this is a mistake, he’s a coward, he shouldn’t have met up with you in person.
2019, August. Parking lot of a Roadside motel, New Rochelle.
Patrick slams his fist against the side of his beat-up Volkswagen Tiguan in frustration, feeling the sting of anger and disappointment course through him. His phone remains pressed to his ear, waiting for you to pick up, but it rings on with no answer. He begins and deletes a desperate text to you, twice, before finally you're calling back and he answers on the first ring. “Hey! Got a weird favor to ask you. Your new place is near Westchester, right?” His voice trembles with nervousness as he taps his fingers anxiously against the car door.
“A whole year, that’s a new record for you. Run out of money already?”
“Shit,” he swears under his breath, trying to use some charm or magic to convince you. “You know how the tour goes. I’ve been struggling to stay afloat. But uh, how’ve you been?” He forces a smile through the grimace as he thinks about his current financial state - a checking account with only $70 left. It’s a far cry from the greatness he once promised he was leaving you to pursue.
“Go to hell, Patrick.” The line goes dead and he pulls the phone away from his face, staring at it in disbelief as if willing you to call back. He knows you, so he waits anxiously until a notification with your name appears again on the screen, accompanied by a new address.
Same day. Private residence, Bronxville.
Everyone knows that Patrick's parents have stopped providing financial support for him, and even though your own father would be furious if he knew you were aiding this deadbeat, you can't bring yourself to let him go without. It's only the occasional bit of cash for gas or food, but Patrick always finds a way to repay you in ways that you didn’t even know you needed. There is an unspoken agreement between the two of you that hangs heavily in the air.
Despite everything, you can't turn him away completely, even knowing he will never truly change. Tennis is his first, great love and with the Donaldsons in town, you can't help but think Tashi might still be his second. And you, you are nothing more than a temporary lifeline – a benefactor to someone who will never truly appreciate your sacrifices.
His heart races with guilt and desperation as he parks his car and approaches your door. He knows he doesn't deserve your help, but the familiarity of these meetings brings a sense of safety.
You watch from your living room window as Patrick's battered Volkswagen pulls into your driveway. The sight of him emerging from the car, all scruffy charm and desperate energy, sends a familiar pang through your chest. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the encounter to come.
As Patrick approaches, you open the door before he can knock. He stands there, looking simultaneously sheepish and hopeful, his eyes searching your face.
"Hey," he says, his voice soft. "Thanks for... you know."
You scoff at his attempt at gratitude, your bitterness cutting through the air like a knife. "Is that supposed to be a thank you? I didn't know you knew how to use manners," you retort, your tone dripping with resentment. It's not like you to be so angry, but Patrick always has a way of bringing out the worst in you.
You step aside, allowing him to enter and close the door after him. Patrick's eyes dart around your new place, taking in the tasteful decor and the obvious signs of your success.
"Nice place," he comments, his voice tinged with a hint of envy.
You shrug, maintaining your emotional distance. "It serves its purpose."
Patrick nods, fidgeting with the hem of his worn t-shirt. The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and shared history.
At thirty-two years old, in the final stages of your cardiology fellowship, your father still treats you like a child who is expected to become an astronaut neurosurgeon, or some other fantastical career straight out of a Barbie movie. Meanwhile, your mother constantly laments about not having any grandchildren to spoil, as if that is the sole purpose of your existence. You often snap back with sarcastic remarks, such as suggesting that your cat could use a new diamond-encrusted bowl, a sharp retort that only serves to deepen the tension between you. The truth is, you yearn for an escape just like Patrick did. If you had any talent for tennis, you would have run away long ago.
Patrick clears his throat, breaking the heavy silence. "I, uh... I really appreciate you helping me out. I know I don't deserve it, after everything."
You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're right. You don't deserve it. But here we are."
He takes a step closer, his gaze intense and pleading. "I never meant to hurt you. Everything just got so complicated, with tennis and Art and Tashi and—"
"Don't." You hold up a hand, cutting him off. "I don't want to hear about her. Or about tennis. I’m not sixteen drooling over you anymore. I don’t need to pretend that I care. That's your world, Patrick. It always has been."
He looks down, shame and regret etched across his handsome features. "I know. I fucked up. I fuck everything up."
Despite your anger and resentment, a part of you softens at his vulnerability. You've known Patrick for so long, seen him at his best and his worst. And even after all the heartbreak, there's still a connection between you that refuses to die.
"Why do you keep coming back here, Pat?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why me?"
Patrick lifts his gaze to meet yours, and for a moment, you're transported back to that fateful dinner at Per Se, when your world first began to crumble.
"Because you're the only one who really knows me," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "The only one who sees past the bullshit and the bravado. Even when I don't deserve it."
Your heart clenches at his words, the irony in them isn’t lost on you.
“I still hate you.” You say as you step forward and wrap your arms around him, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours. Patrick stiffens for a moment before melting into the embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "For everything."
You close your eyes, allowing yourself this moment of vulnerability, of connection. Tomorrow, you'll go back to your separate lives - you to your fellowship and the weight of your parents' expectations, Patrick to his endless pursuit of tennis glory and the shadow of Art Donaldson. But tonight, in the quiet of your home, you can pretend that things are different, that the choices you've made haven't led you down such divergent paths.
As the embrace lingers, the air between you shifts, charged with a familiar tension. Patrick pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, asking a silent question. Your breath catches in your throat as his gaze drops to your lips, and you know what comes next.
It's a dance you've done before, a temporary escape from the harsh realities of your lives. And as Patrick leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, you let yourself surrender to the moment, pushing aside the hurt and resentment that has festered for so long. His hands roam your body with a desperate urgency, as if trying to memorize every curve and contour before this fleeting connection inevitably fades away.
You melt into his touch, your own hands tangling in his curly black hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, a clash of tongues and teeth. Patrick's fingers find the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath the fabric to caress the soft skin of your waist.
A moan escapes your lips as his touch ignites a fire within you, a burning desire that consumes rational thought. You tug at his clothes, needing to feel his skin against yours, to lose yourself in the physicality of the moment.
Patrick responds in kind, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck as you head towards the bedroom. You stumble together, a tangle of limbs and half-shed clothing, until you fall onto the bed in a heap.
For a moment, you stare at each other, chests heaving, eyes dark with want. His lips trail scorching kisses down your neck, his stubble rasping against your sensitive skin.
"Pat," you gasp, arching into his touch as his hands touch wherever they can reach.
He pauses, hovering above you, his eyes dark with desire and something more, something akin to regret. "Tell me to stop," he whispers, his voice strained. "Tell me you don't want this."
But you can't. Because despite everything, the hurt and the anger and the years of distance, you do want this. You want him, even if it's just for tonight, even if it's a mistake you'll regret come morning.
"Don't stop," you breathe, pulling him back down to you.
Your shirt is discarded, followed by your bra, as Patrick's hands and mouth map the newly exposed skin. He lavishes attention on your breasts, his tongue swirling around each nipple until they peak into hardened buds. You writhe beneath him, your nails digging into his broad shoulders as the pleasure builds.
Patrick's lips trail lower, blazing a path down your stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. He pauses, glancing up at you through his lashes, silently seeking permission. You lift your hips in response, and he tugs the denim down your legs, taking your panties with them.
Exposed and vulnerable, you fight the urge to cover yourself, to hide from the intensity of his gaze. But Patrick looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, his eyes filled with a reverence that steals your breath.
"You're perfect," he murmurs, his hands skimming up your thighs, spreading them wider. "I never deserved you."
Before you can respond, his mouth is on you, his tongue delving into your folds, lapping at your most sensitive spots. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as he works you with expert precision, stoking the fire that burns within you.
Patrick slips a finger inside you, then two, curling them just so as his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, your body tensing in anticipation.
"Pat, I'm going to—" you gasp, your words cut off by a moan as he redoubles his efforts, determined to unravel you completely.
And then you're shattering, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of blinding ecstasy. Patrick works you through it, his fingers and tongue gentling as you come down from the high, your body trembling with aftershocks.
He crawls back up your body, pressing tender kisses to your skin as he goes. When he reaches your lips, you taste yourself on his tongue, a heady reminder of the intimacy you've just shared.
"I need you," you whisper against his mouth, your hands fumbling with the button of his jeans. "Please, Patrick."
He helps you undress him, kicking off his jeans and boxers until he's as bare as you are. His erection springs free, hard and heavy against his stomach, and you reach out to wrap your fingers around him, reveling in the velvety softness of his skin.
Patrick groans at your touch, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "Condom," he grits out, reaching for his discarded basketball shorts.
You wait impatiently as he rolls the latex over his length, your body thrumming with anticipation. When he settles between your thighs again, the blunt head of his cock nudging at your entrance, teasing you with the promise of fullness. Your breath hitches as he slowly pushes forward, stretching you deliciously as he fills you inch by inch. A low moan escapes your lips at the exquisite sensation of him inside you, his thick length pulsing with need.
Patrick stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his forehead pressed against yours as he struggles to maintain control. "God, you feel incredible," he rasps, his voice strained with desire. "I've missed this. Missed you."
The confession tugs at your heart, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you once shared, the love that never quite died despite the pain and the years apart. You cling to him, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him deeper.
He begins to move then, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm that builds in intensity with each thrust. You meet him stroke for stroke, your bodies moving in perfect sync, as if no time has passed at all. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the mingled gasps and moans, the whispered words of encouragement and praise.
Patrick's mouth finds yours again, his kisses deep and demanding, as if he's trying to pour all of his unspoken emotions into the press of his lips. Your fingers tangle in his curly black hair, tugging lightly as the pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter within you.
He shifts the angle of his thrusts, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. You cry out, your nails raking down his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake. Patrick hisses at the sting, but it only seems to spur him on, his movements becoming more frantic, more forceful.
"Touch yourself," he commands, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you come around me."
Obediently, you slip a hand between your bodies, feeling the heat and sweat radiating off of Patrick's skin. Your fingers glide lazily over his chest and down towards the area of need. However, unsatisfied with your own rhythm, Patrick's fingers boldly enter your mouth, collecting the saliva and making you involuntarily gag. Without hesitating, his fingers make their way back down to their intended destination, gently nudging yours out of the way. His thumb finds your clit, tracing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. The added stimulation sends electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your body, causing your inner walls to flutter around his throbbing cock.
You arch into his touch, your hands now exploring the hard planes of his chest, tracing the lines of his happy trail.
As Patrick moves within you, his eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, you can almost pretend that this means something more than a temporary escape, a fleeting connection in the midst of your fractured lives. But deep down, you know the truth.
This is all you can ever have with Patrick - stolen moments of passion, brief respites from the weight of your respective burdens. Tomorrow, you'll go back to being strangers, two people whose paths diverged long ago, held together only by the tenuous threads of history and desire.
With each deep thrust, Patrick stokes the fire building within you, pushing you closer to the brink of release. The fingers of his other hand dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he drives into you with increasing urgency, chasing his own climax.
"I'm close," he pants, his breath hot and ragged. "Give me another one. Come with me, baby. I’ve got you."
The endearment slips out unbidden, a echo of the past, of the tender moments you once shared. It's enough to send you tumbling over the edge, your walls clenching around him as euphoria floods your senses. Patrick follows a heartbeat later, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he spills himself inside you, his hips jerking erratically with the force of his release.
As your breathing slows and reality seeps back in, the weight of your history, of all the unspoken words and unresolved hurt, settles heavily in the room. Patrick rolls off of you, disposing of the condom before collapsing onto the mattress and pulling you to him.
For a long moment, you lie tangled together, chests heaving, hearts racing in sync. Patrick's weight is a comforting presence, his face buried in the crook of your neck as the aftershocks of pleasure gradually subside.
But as the haze of desire dissipates, reality begins to seep in, cold and unforgiving. You feel Patrick tense against you, his body growing rigid as the magnitude of what you've done settles over him. He moves away from you, tugging on his boxers in swift, mechanical movements.
The silence that stretches between you is heavy with unspoken regrets, with the bitter knowledge that this changes nothing. You pull the sheet up to cover your nakedness, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in the harsh light of aftermath.
You turn your head to look at him, taking in the familiar lines of his profile, the curl of his lashes against his cheek. "What are we doing, Pat?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
He sighs, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "I don't know," he admits, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I just... I needed this. Needed you."
Your heart clenches at his words, a bittersweet mix of longing and resignation. You know you should put a stop to this, to the cycle of hurt and temporary solace that keeps bringing you back together. But the pull between you is too strong, the history too deep.
"I can't keep being your escape, Patrick," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "I can't keep pretending that this means something more than it does."
He turns to face you then, his lake blue eyes searching yours, a flicker of something raw and vulnerable in their depths. "What if it could?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if we could make it mean something more?"
For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine it - a life where you and Patrick find a way to bridge the gap between your worlds, to build something real and lasting. But the dream fades as quickly as it forms, the harsh realities of your lives intruding once more.
"I wish things could be different," Patrick murmurs, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "I wish I could be the man you deserve."
Your eyes search his face for a glimmer of the boy you once knew, the one who stole your heart with his reckless charm and unbridled ambition. "We both made our choices, Pat," you whisper, your fingers reaching over to brush a stray curl from his forehead. "We can't go back.”
Patrick moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to you, shoulders hunched with the weight of his thoughts. You watch him, your heart aching with a familiar longing, a desperate wish for things to be different.
“I don’t even know what you really want from me. I doubt you do either. You’re just latching onto me because I’m something steady to grab a hold of.” Your voice is soft, tentative. “Look at me, Pat.”
He flinches at the sound of his name, as if the mere utterance is a painful reminder of the intimacy you've just shared. "Don't," he says, his tone flat, emotionless. "Please, just… don't."
You swallow back the words that threaten to spill out, the confessions and pleas that will only fall on deaf ears. Because you know, deep down, that Patrick will never be yours, not in the way you want him to be. His heart belongs to the court, to the thrill of the game, to the relentless pursuit of greatness that has consumed him for as long as you've known him. And the more it alludes him, the more desperate he is to obtain it.
And you? You're just a temporary port in the storm, a fleeting respite from the chaos of his life. A reminder of the girl he left behind, the love he sacrificed on the altar of his ambition.
Patrick stands abruptly, reaching for his discarded clothes. He dresses quickly, efficiently, his movements sharp and purposeful. You watch him in silence, a lump forming in your throat as the weight of the moment settles over you.
“Will you stop?” You sit up, pulling the blanket around you. “Just sleep here for tonight, Pat. You’re being difficult for no reason.”
Patrick's steps falter as he turns to you, his grip tight on the fabric of his shirt. His face is a mix of anger and frustration, but then it transforms into a vulnerable expression that catches you off guard. He runs a hand through his hair before letting out a heavy sigh. "I know I shouldn't ask after what happened between us...but will you come watch me play tomorrow?"
47 notes · View notes
kurishiri · 22 hours ago
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95K┊Dark If —Harrison Gray—
꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!
— the 95k story for dark if (part 1), featuring harry. i think it is “required reading” to understand the world of this event, but they set it as the 95k bonus story, so i'm translating it. please note this does not necessarily have a happy end.
— cw: mentions of murder and death, angst.
Every story had an established plot, so to speak.
For example, in Cinderella, the prince fell in love at first sight with Cinderella, and they lived happily ever after.
Or if we took Snow White, the kiss from the prince would awaken her, and then they lived happily ever after.
‘It’s boring if everything goes as planned?’ That’s fine, since it’s the type of story most people want.
But, I wonder when this all went down...when did this fairytale world start to become so twisted?
And also, what had to have gone down for me to end up in this role of guiding the keyman to this world and through those twists?
Tonight, once again, the keyman who had wandered into this fairytale world tried to run away, returning to reality.
In other words, they were not the keyman, but rather they just happened to get caught up in all of this.
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Victor: It seems this time as well, they were unable to find the missing thing.
Harrison the Lying Fox: They’ll just think of it all as a bad dream and forget about it anyway.
H: Besides...
Victor: ‘It’s best to quickly forget about this world and live in reality’?
This mysterious man named Victor, who wandered this world, had a shrewd look as he smiled, and as usual, such a look irritated me.
Just when I thought of throwing even a single insult his way, I heard the sound of footsteps.
(Ahh, here we go again...)
(Someone was ‘summoned’ by this world.)
Victor: Oh, where are you headed off to? There’s a guest here.
Harrison the Lying Fox: I’ll look from afar. There’s not much point in talking face to face anyway.
Victor: I see. Then do as you like.
——And then, the footsteps gradually grew louder, until they stopped.
Victor: Welcome to the twisted fairytale world...
V: A guest has come~~ Yippeee~~!
There stood a figure, petrified from what looked like anxiety.
Kate: Um, where... I... just now I was at the bookstore, and...
(Oh jeez... she’s so frightened.)
Kate: Uhm, I’m in the middle of my letter carrier duties. So I would like to return to Kingsley Books...
Victor: Now that may be a bit difficult.
Kate: Huh?
Victor’s explanation, something he had repeated thousands of times over, flowed smoothly.
How he selfishly wanted her to find the ‘missing thing’ in the fairytale world.
And then, the one named Kate was sent to the twisted fairytale world in order to find that very thing.
Victor: Harrison. Are you going to take a peek into the story?
Harrison the Lying Fox: You can stop with the act. I know you know as well that I’ve got no choice but to.
The lying fox was always a despised presence within a fairy tale.
And that was the role I bore. It was my fate to spend my life serving this world so that it could return to normal.
(I can freely traverse through any fairytale world.)
(But if I were to flip a coin on it, it would mean I would never be able to become a character in any fairy tale.)
Despite the fact I was bearing this troublesome fate, I myself couldn’t correct any of these stories... it was ironic.
Victor: Well then, have a good time. May you find the best happy end this time.
—— Traversing... ——
Kate: I’m... Cinderella?
Having been sent to the world of Cinderella, Kate wasted little time in starting her search for the missing thing.
She was trying so hard I couldn’t help but feel fed up.
But——
Stepmother: It’s because of children like you that my own girls don’t get chosen by the prince!
Kate: P-please stop...
Stepmother: You...someone like you...!
So that one of her own children would become the prince’s fiancée, the stepmother schemed and killed Kate.
Once again, this fairy tale reached a bad end.
And then, Kate was taken back to reality from the fairytale world.
—— In reality ——
Kate: Huh? I... what was I doing again?
K: ...I feel as though I was sleeping for a long time...
I had come to realize in the long time I had been observing that if a keyman were to die in the fairytale world and reach a bad end,
they would be forcefully returned to reality like this.
And——all of what happened in that world would be wiped clean from their memories.
But, in most cases, their bodies would still remember, and they would leave, as though to run away.
It was like they were saying they didn’t want to see a bad dream again.
(Alright now, you get out of here quickly too.)
(Go back to that peaceful everyday life filled with normalcy.)
Kate: ………
After standing up with a bit of a wobble, Kate once again reached for the fallen book.
(………Huh? What in the world are you doing?)
And then, as if trying her best to remember something precious, she furrowed her brows,
and then, once again, Kate was sucked into the book like she was being summoned by it.
Harrison the Lying Fox: Wh——you idiot.
And so, Kate — once again — found herself repeating the same exchange with Victor,
landing in the world of Alice in Wonderland.
In this world, the bell signifying the Queen of Heart’s judgment resonated.
Kate: I’m looking for the missing thing in this world.
K: That is, the thing that’s lacking in the world. If that is——a peaceful life...
Liam the Cheshire Cat: Then you wouldn’t want to approach the Queen of Hearts. Well, all is up to you, Alice.
And so, Kate once again tried so hard to find the missing thing, it was laughable.
(Why do you feel the need to go so far?)
(...Ah, jeez, if you get hurt again that’s all on you.)
This time, in this story as well, Kate was unable to find the missing thing.
And, never learning from what had happened, she would continue to choose this cycle.
Over, and over again, she would roam within these twisted fairy tales.
At one time, she was Snow White.
But, she was killed by a foreign prince named Natalia, who was aiming to conquer the country that Queen Elbert ruled, covering for him.
And at another time, she was Sleeping Beauty.
She was cursed by a fairy to ‘prick her finger on a spinning wheel ten years later, triggering the curse,’
but before that time, she had passed away from an illness.
Such events would repeat themselves, over and over again.
And, over and over again, I would watch over Kate.
Today as well, Kate was in a twisted fairytale world, continuing her search.
At this point, I couldn’t bring myself to care about what fairy tale she was in.
It was just watching over her was my job.
Today, it had been raining in this forest nonstop since the morning, and Kate’s shoulders grew more soaked.
When I saw her body trembling in the cold, I couldn’t bear it...
——And, for the first time, I approached Kate.
Without an utterance, I held an umbrella above her.
Kate: ...?
Harrison the Lying Fox: The rain won’t stop for a while. Wanna come in?
Kate: T-thank you?
Harrison the Lying Fox: Haha, why phrase it like a question?
Kate: Um... can I ask who you are?
(My name...)
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Harrison the Lying Fox: That kind of thing doesn’t really matter, does it. Since we’re going to be parting ways when the rain stops anyway.
Kate: Is that so. Yes... I suppose so...
Kate looked a bit lonely, before thanking me again.
Under a single umbrella, I looked up at the sky, the rain falling non-stop.
(I hate the rain.)
(...But, just for today, I wouldn’t mind if it never stopped.)
(Because, then I can be together with you... for just a little longer.)
The ‘thanks’ from Kate made a strange warmth seep into my heart.
And then, once again, Kate was killed in the fairy tale.
While I’d seen her die countless times, for some reason, this time made me feel a pang in my heart for the first time.
—— Time skip ——
Victor: Oh my, Harrison. It’s not every day I see you here.
Harrison the Lying Fox: Could you stop this already?
Victor: ...I take it this is about Kate?
Harrison the Lying Fox: .........
Victor: That, I can’t do.
Harrison the Lying Fox: And why’s that?
Victor: Because, for some reason, Kate herself ends up choosing to come back here over and over. This is a first for me as well.
V: And I find myself thinking, about Kate...
Harrison the Lying Fox: What about her? Hurry and say it already.
Victor: Perhaps she may be the true keyman?
V: Harrison? Where are you headed?
Harrison the Lying Fox: ...To Kate.
Victor: I see... do be careful.
Kate was in the world of Cinderella, like she was the first time.
Tonight, Kate was participating in the ball, and she must introduce herself to the prince.
She had a fairy godmother alter her appearance, and I thought she looked more beautiful than any of the other participants here.
That was no lie, either, since the eyes of any who passed by would be taken by her.
But, Kate, the gentle soul she was, could not bring herself to approach the prince directly.
(Ahh... if she doesn’t speak up, he’ll get stolen by other women.)
(Jeez, always making more work for me.)
I quietly approached, and I dropped an empty glass from a table right adjacent to Kate,
causing a shattering sound to resonate through the dance hall, and everyone in the venue turned their attention on Kate.
Kate: Ah, wh—? Me? I-I’m so sorry...
(Look over there, the prince has finally noticed you.)
Prince: Um, are you hurt anywhere?
When I confirmed the prince had reached out to Kate, I left the venue.
After all, a lying fox was hardly suited for such a place.
I descended the long staircase myself.
(I don’t think that would be enough to change the course of the story.)
(Kate, go and find the missing thing. This time, for sure.)
When I wished for this, a bitter feeling bloomed in my chest, as though I had bitten on sand.
(I see, if Kate were to find a happy ending, I would no longer be needed.)
Before I knew it, I had watched over Kate for quite a while.
At some point, Kate had already become a part of my everyday.
(——What am I saying, with something so out of character like how a farewell would be lonely.)
Trying to shake off these conflicting emotions, I continued to walk, when...
Kate: Uhm...
(...Kate?)
When I turned around, I saw Kate running down, holding the hem of her dress up as she did.
(...What happened with the prince?)
(Why’s she chasing after me?)
Many words welled up in my throat, but I pushed them all down.
After all, in Kate’s memory, I was not there.
Harrison the Lying Fox: Did you need something?
Kate: Ah, um...
Harrison the Lying Fox: ...?
Kate: Have... we met somewhere before, by any chance...?
Harrison the Lying Fox: ......... (O_O)
Kate’s eyes pierced through me, like she was begging for the truth.
We stared at each other for several seconds, which felt more like an eternity.
But, the one who broke it first was me.
Harrison the Lying Fox: Who knows. It’s probably just you.
(It’s alright. I’m good at telling lies.)
Kate: I...see. Sorry about that, for saying something so strange. Please forget it.
Kate put up a forced smile before she returned from where she came.
And I, much like a fool, couldn’t take my eyes off of her back.
(Hey, Kate. Having watched over you all this time, I’ve come to realize something.)
The ‘missing thing’ that Kate had always been searching for in these fairytale worlds...
(That is——the protagonist.)
(Kate. You yourself are the missing thing in its truest form.)
Had Kate followed her own heart, choosing a path to become happy,
I was sure the twisted fairy tale would reach its end.
But, when I tried to tell Kate,
Harrison the Lying Fox: Gugh, hah... gh...
Something seemed to stop words from forming in my voice.
And, as though mocking at this eternal, twisted fate from afar, the clock struck twelve.
Harrison the Lying Fox: .........
(I can’t become your prince, nor can I become your lover.)
(And, someday, you may end up finding your happy end.)
(But... for now... even if it’s just this moment——)
Harrison the Lying Fox: Hey, you there. ...Heading that way could spell out danger, you know?
Kate: And you are?
Harrison the Lying Fox: Who knows. More importantly, where are you planning to go?
(...Let me watch over you, while holding the key of this secret in my hand.)
That night, as strange as it was, I had a dream.
In my fairy tale, one that remained without a name to call it, Kate suddenly appeared and said——
Kate: Harrison!
Harrison the Lying Fox: How do you know my name?
Kate: Of course I know. Because I’ve always been searching for you.
Harrison the Lying Fox: ......... (O_O)
Kate: ...Harrison, I like you. Would you become my happy end?
(Ahh... I see now.)
(So this is the most convenient dream for me.)
A bitter, yet unbearably sweet feeling blossomed in my heart.
(If this isn’t a reality, then I won’t have to lie anymore, right?)
I touched Kate’s wrist, and then brought her in an embrace.
(That’s right, I had always... wanted to hug you like this.)
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Harrison the Lying Fox: Me too.
H: I’ve always wanted to reach the best end with you, too.
(Kate, I no longer want to see you crying.)
(I think you’re much better suited with a carefree smile.)
Harrison the Lying Fox: Kate. I like you.
I wished that time could stop, just a little bit longer,
for while this momentary dream was fleeting, I had never had seen a better one before.
Fin.
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masterlist 🗝️ ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍
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niningtori · 2 days ago
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nini's works in progress
no lie (choi beomgyu x reader)
beomgyu is a go-getter who's had to fight for everything he has, and he's not done fighting. when his boss instructs him to enter their biggest business rival's company, he has no choice but to agree. enter you, the bumbling mess he gets stuck training with, who also happens to be the company's heiress. he has no qualms with using you, a person he assumes to be a spoiled idiot, to get what he wants; but as he gets to know (and maybe even love) you, he finds he might just regret it, after all.
genre: angst :-/, romance, melodrama
warnings: extremely depressed and naive reader
progress: 3k
should have known better (choi beomgyu x reader)
beomgyu should have known better. he knows his parents think of him as little more than a pawn in their never-ending game of monopoly, and he knows that if he ever strays from the suffocating mold that they force him to shrink himself into, they will cut him off without a sliver of hesitation. he also knows he can’t really do anything about that, either, but that doesn’t make him any less surprised when they tell him that not only will he be marrying the person of their choice, but that choice is you.
you’re not the worst person beomgyu has ever met, but you’re certainly not his favorite. how could he possibly have feelings for someone as vapid and seemingly inconsequential as you?
genre: angst :-/, arranged marriage!au, romance, melodrama
progress: 1.5k
too good to be true (kai kamal huening x reader)
kai is a stereotypical fratboy if there ever was one. at least, as far as you're concerned, he might as well be. he's known for breaking hearts, but he's cute, charming, funny — everything any girl could ever want. well, any girl except for you, it seems. when his advances towards you prove fruitless, he's even more determined than ever to show you that he's serious about his feelings, but your not-so-great history with men leaves you with little patience for his antics.
genre: probably smut (mdni), angst :-/, college!au, romance, melodrama
warnings: smut (mdni), emotionally unavailable reader
progress: 1k
never saw the point (choi beomgyu x reader) [requested work]
the night before beomgyu leaves to begin living out his dream as a musician, you dump him out of seemingly nowhere. he's blindsided, devastated by this fact. he begs for you to stay with him, but you're steadfast in your decision, choosing to part ways on the most heartbreaking terms. you have no choice, though, because the baby you're carrying would certainly ruin his life.
genre: angst :-/, secret baby!au, second chance romance, melodrama, famous!beomgyu x reader
progress: 1.1k
*if you would like to be tagged in any of these works, please let me know! if you are a minor or ageless blog, please do not ask to be tagged in any 18+ works. thank you!
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emmawithtwoms · 1 day ago
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Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom
@wolfstarmicrofic day 30 -1000 words
“Tell me again, why are we doing this here?” 
Remus was watching his friends brew some kind of potion, all three hunched over a cauldron.
“Because, dear Moony, nobody will ever come looking for us here.” 
James answered him, and Remus genuinely thought that all the bulgers he took in head were starting to affect him. 
“They will not look for us, in the middle of the day, openly in a bathroom, just in front of the entrance… Prongs are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”
James rolled his eyes, Sirius snickered and Peter lifted his head from the lizard livers he was chopping. 
“Remus.. This is Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, nobody will come in here…”
Peter looked around in distress while saying that.
“Who?” 
When Remus asked that, Peter’s blood drained from his face, while James snickered and Sirius groaned in annoyance.
“Please tell me she didn’t hear you…” 
“I AM MOANING MYRTLE”
Remus screeched when the ghost of a girl yelled from the stall behind him.
“Obviously, I wouldn't expect you to know me. Who would ever care about the annoying, sad, ugly moaning Myrtle…” 
The ghost rambled on and placed herself on the windowstill.
“Moony, did you really not know her? Everybody knows this is her bathroom.”
Sirius said while mixing the chopped livers in the potion.
“Well I’m sorry for not being familiar with the girls’ bathrooms guys…” 
“Ohhhh, so you’re a gentleman, huh? We should thank you for not creeping around in the girls’ bathroom, huh? I should just banish you from here.” 
“Oh come on, Myr, he didn’t mean it like that, you know it. Don’t be so mean”
Myr?? Since when was Sirius friends with the ghost?
“Oh, not you, Sirius darling, I wouldn’t dream of banishing you from here… In fact, you can come whenever you want, even after your death, we could share my stall”
WHAT?? Remus could believe what he was seeing. 
That’s not true: Sirius flirting with someone to get what he wants is a daily occurrence. But still, a ghost inviting his boyfriend to share their haunting place???
“Well, thank you Myrtle, but I need my friends to finish this potion, I can’t do it alone, you see? So could you please forgive Remus? He doesn’t know what he’s saying” 
“Oh, so he’s daft?” 
“You could say that…” 
And Sirius had the audacity to wink after that. Oh he was so gonna pay for it. 
Remus got closer to his boyfriend, watching the potion from over his shoulder.
“So, love, what exactly is the potion you’re brewing in this beautiful bathroom?” 
Sirius shot him a glare, but did not say anything about the pet name. He clearly understood what Remus was doing. 
“We’re brewing a hallucinating potion to give to the Slytherins, they’re all gonna believe that they’re Dragons for a day. Did you bring the pixie dust?” 
“Yes, I did, darling.” 
Remus handed him a small vial, and Sirius poured it carefully in the cauldron. 
“You know, you are so good at potions, you should consider taking it to a NEWT level” 
Moony started playing with a loose strand of hair that fell from the bun Sirius tied them on. 
“Yeah, well, if I wanna be a curse breaker I have to get my potion’s NEWT, so…” 
“Oh, right, right, you’re gonna be a curse breaker, that’s so brave of you, dear.” 
James and Peter were muffling their giggles with their hands while watching Remus blatantly flirt with his boyfriend and Myrtle narrowing her eyes at them. 
“Remus, I know what you are doing, stop it.” 
“But baby, I’m not doing anything…” 
Sirius could feel the werewolf’s hands sliding on his waist, just the way he liked it, and placing his chin on his shoulder, so that his mouth was at Padfoot's ear level.  
“Moons, stop it, you’re gonna get us in trouble with Myrtle.” 
“Well, maybe next time you shouldn’t flirt with a ghost in front of your boyfriend, honey.” 
“BOYFRIEND??? YOU ARE HIS BOYFRIEND????” 
Myrtle was now livid with rage, she flew to them, floating right in front of their faces. 
“Oh yeah, didn’t Padfoot tell you? We’ve been together for three months.”
James and Peter gave up trying to muffle their laughter, and they were now holding their stomachs looking at the scene that was unravelling in front of them. 
“THREE MONTHS?? HOW DARE YOU? HOW DARE YOU LITTLE SCARRED LOSER TAUNT MY SIRIUS THAT WAY! YOU.. YOU… HOMEWRECKER!!”
“Wait, what? Homewrecker?” 
It was not going as planned.
“GET OUT!” 
Myrtle lifted her arm, and a menacing grumbling came from the stall behind Remus. Suddenly, gallons and gallons of water were being poured on his head, drenching him from head to toe, somehow not touching Sirius. 
“Myrtle, darling, could you please not drown my boyfriend? I quite like him alive.” 
The water stopped and Remus started sputtering. 
“But Sirius, dear, he's getting between us!”
“I know Myrtle, but sadly I like him quite a lot, so could you forgive him? I am very happy with him. And you want me to be happy and smiling when you see me, right? Well, keeping Remus alive is the way to keep me smiling and funny.”
“Oh… ok Sirius. But if you ever became a ghost-”
“Then I promise you I will come share your toilet stall, Black’s word.” 
“Mh. Then I guess the loser can stay alive. For now…” 
“Thank you Myrtle, you’re a peach” 
And with a last giggle, the ghost went back to her toilet. 
“See? This is why you should have stopped, darling.” 
Remus, who was now shivering, still wet and dripping, flipped him off. 
“Oh Merlin, Wormy, we should have brought a camera!That was the funniest thing I have ever seen!”
James was still wheezing between laughter, and Wormtail could still not speak, trying to regain his breath.
“Come on guys, don’t taunt my darling lover this way, he was just a bit jealous. Right baby?”
“Fuck off. All of you.”
A.N: well, this wraps up November's Microfics!!!! Wooo hoooo!!! I hope you guys had fun reading them just as much as I had writing them. Can't wait for December Prompts!!!
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windsweptinred · 1 day ago
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I don't usually do really personal stuff on here...Ever. But I had to reply to this. Our circumstances are damn near identical, almost scarily so. Right down to our similar ages, our children's similar ages and our current partner not being our child's biological parent. Having no underlying issues, we should be able to. And not being allowed any medical assistance due to already having a child. I just want you to know I get it, I get it so much and I'm here if you ever need someone to vent too x. 
We've been trying for four years and four months as of late November. And it damn near broke me back in 2023. I had to claw my way out of depression, because as a mother, I couldn't stay in that pit. It wasn't fair on my daughter. It's an unending, reoccurring, monthly cycle of hope and despair that chips away at you. Changes you irrevocably. That stretches your relationship to near breaking points at times. Luckily we learnt to bend but I know some couples it's broken beyond repair. And I wouldn't wish it on anyone. 
The worst part, as you've pointed out, is society won't let you grieve secondary infertility. We're made to feel guilty for feeling what we do. Told to be grateful for the child we have. Like we're not, like we don't love them beyond compare. But they never take into account the pain of watching your child stare longingly at other families with multiple children. Of them being lonely when their friends go home. Of them coming home and telling you they're the only child in their class without a brother or sister. And the sheer helplessness of that. Of wanting so badly to give them that baby sibling, but of being so utterly powerless to do so. Or worse, you're told, just adopt. In that meaning to be helpful, but completely careless way. Without people truly understanding the adoptive process and how overwhelming a journey it can be. 
And in our situation, the fact that we'd love to have a child with our partner. My husband is the most amazing step father, as far as my daughter is concerned she has two Dad's and is the luckiest girl alive. And he loves her unconditionally. But that doesn't mean we wouldn't love a child together too. He's been such a pillar of strength through it all. But it's taken such a huge toll on him too. 
Like you I feel the clock ticking now as I slowly close in on fourty. And my daughter inches closer and closer to being a teenager. And the gap becomes too great. I'm in the process of trying to let go. Let the dream die. I know I need to. But hope is hard thing to shake. Honestly somedays I hate it. 😔 But know I truly do understand. And I'm an ear that will listen.
Just ignore this, I need to get some stuff out. I'm not looking for comments or anything, I just... this is hard, and this is my blog so I can say what I want.
I got my period this morning. Again. 39th cycle with nothing, not even a chemical pregnancy. And once again, I spent a week thinking the nausea and sore boobs could be, it could be, it might be, right? No.
I turned 38 this month. It's too late for me, I guess. But I can't say anything anywhere because I get "you have a beautiful child already" YES I know this. I am aware that I am blessed with a child who amazes me every day. It's been a honour to be her mum for the last 12.5 years.
But I have more to give. More love. And while blood is not the be all and end all, my daughter is not my husband's biological child. I dream about a baby with him. I dream of it constantly, have dreamed about it for the last ten years, and it's destroying me. We're not eligible for IVF because I already have a child. Whenever I approach the doctor for advice, I get "you should just focus on the one you have". I try to find forums and advice online and get "you're lucky you already have one".
Secondary infertility is a thing. It's tearing me apart. I have to watch other people close to me getting pregnant and enjoying their bumps. I have to bite my tongue when my husband's sister talks about her upcoming arrival while smoking a cigarette and declaring she won't get the baby vaccinated (plus we've been told attending the baby shower is non-negotiable, can't wait to endure that and try not to cry in front of people). One person I know already has two kids she does not care for (literally abandoned one), yet is pregnant with her third and still smoking marijuana. I had to avoid my friend while she was pregnant because I just kept crying, and that's not her fault, but I can't help it, I'm so desperate to be the pregnant one.
And I know that my tears affect my husband. The situation upsets him too, maybe not to the extent it upsets me, or maybe more because it upsets me. But he doesn't know what to say or do. There's nothing we can do, really. The tests show I should be able to get pregnant. I've lost the weight, I've changed my diet. But no, the universe says my heart cannot be whole. I don't know how to heal from this or accept that I will never be a mother again.
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classyrbf · 11 days ago
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SHE'S A SUCCUBUS! — CHOSO KAMO
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SYNOPSIS...as a sex demon, she can always sense the horny virgin boy who’s dying to lose his virginity
INFO...choso x succubus!reader, sub!choso, virgin!choso, somnophilia, riding, overstim, creampie, oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), slight ass eating, cum eating, doggy, squirting, choso is super needy and eager, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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Choso always felt left out when his friend would constantly talk about all the girls they’ve been with, all the experiences they had and what crazy shit they always got into. He’d just sit there, silent. He couldn’t relate to them not one bit. The closest he’s ever to having sex is his right hand or a sex toy. No girl ever looked his way, and his confidence was crushed. They’d only go after his friends, practically drooling over them. Not one of them spared a glance towards Choso.
He was begging to lose his virginity, dying to know what real pussy felt like, how soft tits felt in his hands or even some ass. God, don’t even get him started on wondering what it feels like to receive head. His friends swear it’s the best thing ever as long as the girl knows what she’s doing. He always watches porn, the women on their knees, slobbering all over the man dick like it was some divine dessert. He loved watching the way their pussies wrapped around the mans dick, just imagining how wet and warm it is. He was a lost cause. At this point, he was ready to pay someone to take his virginity. Literally.
And just like any other night, he goes back home, ready to fuck his fist to another average porn video before dozing off to sleep. He’s been extremely horny lately, more than usual and he can’t understand why. Not to mention the wet dreams he’s been having, waking up to cum in his pants like he’s a damn teenager. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, feeling the need to cum more and more everyday.
Hours later, he’s fast asleep, tossing and turning as he has another wet dream of someone riding him. He can’t make out her face, but it feels so damn real. Everything does. Even her moans and the weight on top of him. “Mmm,” he hums. His brows furrow. He can even hear the sound of skin on skin. His entire body feels like it’s on fire right now, like he’s been hit with some sort of sex pollen. It’s more intense than ever.
Little does he know it’s not a wet dream, no, it’s you. The succubus who’s been watching him for weeks, feeling his urgency to cum, to lose his virginity. He’s summoned you without even realizing. And now you were riding him, gliding your wet pussy up and down his aching cock while he slept, waiting for the moment he wakes up and realizes he’s no longer a virgin. He twists and turns when you run your clawed nails down his pale skin, smiling at the way he moans and whimpers in his sleep.
Choso couldn’t take this overwhelming feeling anymore, forcing himself to wake up, prying his tired eyes open. But the feeling doesn’t stop. The sounds don’t stop. And certainly the woman is his dreams doesnt disappear when he opens his eyes. “Wha—ah—what? Who…? Oh fuck!” He rasps, eyes darting around the room and over your naked body. “What the fuck? Oh my goddd.” As confused and scared as he is right now, he can’t escape the pleasure coursing through him right now.
“Shhh, shhh, just let me make you feel good. You’ve been dying for this haven’t you? I’m here to give you exactly what you want.” You slightly lean back, spreading your legs to let him get a clear view of the way your pussy sucks his cock in.
He looks at you with awe and confusion, but he can’t help but give in, moaning so sweetly when you fully sink down. “Who…who are you?” He gasps, eyes widen when you clench your pussy around him.
“I know when cute virgins like you wanna lose their virginity. You summoned me, accidentally. You’ve been so worked up lately, huh? Well,” you smile, “that was because of me.” His cock twitches inside of you, your hips bouncing faster and harder, watching the way he mouth falls open.
“Fuck, fuck! It’s feels so good,” he heaves, breathing heavily. His cheeks dusted a light pink. “I don’t wanna cum just yet, please slow down. Please, please—nnghhh, fuckkkk.” Choso didn’t stand a chance, shooting sticky ropes of cum into your pussy, his entire body quivering with how intense his orgasm was. “Please, slow down—ah, oh my god. It feels too good—” His eyes rolled into the back of his head as you kept fucking him.
“I’ll keep fucking you till there’s nothing left.” You lean forward, pressing your chest against his, placing your lips on his while you kiss him with such fervor, with such sloppiness. His hands reach down, gripping the plush flesh of your ass. He swears he’s in heaven right now. This can’t be real. No way a sex demon was taking his virginity right now. His dick was so sensitive, but still so hard. He knew he had so much cum left, the only thoughts he had were to fill you up over and over until it was dripping out.
He felt like he was losing his mind, fucking him so hard, creating a sloppy mess where you two met just so you can get him to cum again. Your devilish yet sweet giggles send chills up his spine and straight down to his already throbbing dick. With labored breaths, and his heart rattling against his rib cage, he already knows he’s going to cum again. So soon. “Come don’t hold back on me. I want it all,” you growl in his ear. “I’ll do whatever it takes to empty you dry and fuck you stupid.”
His trembling fingers grip onto your ass harder as he cries out, broken moans swallowed by your kisses and he can’t help but cum again, filling up your tight pussy to the brim. You pull away from the heated kiss looking at the way his hazy eyes stare up at you with such desperation. You halt the movement of your hips and get up from his lap. “No, no, wait. Where are you going?! Please, keep fucking me.” He sits up, watching you get on your knees. Poor thing looks like he’s almost about to cry.
And now he can get a real good view of you. The tail that swayed around and the small little horns that pointed from the top of your head. You really were a sex demon. Your hand took a firm grip on his throbbing cock, his tip leaking like it was begging you to make it cum again. “I can see your thoughts. Your nasty little thoughts.” You run a long stripe from his balls all the way to his tip, licking the excess cum off. Your tongue was freakishly long, but god did it feel so good on him. You spit on his cock, massaging it in as you stroke him, moving your hand in circular motions that make his hips jump. “Say it. I know what you’re thinking.” Your lips curl into a smirk, running the pad of your thumb over his slit.
“Put…put your mouth on it, please,” he says barely above a whisper, too shocked to even form proper words.
“Louder.” You massage his balls with your free hand, earning a guttural groan from him.
“Please, put your mouth on it! Fuck, I wanna know how good it feels!” His lip quivers, his breathing quickening the closer your lips get.
“Good boy.” You smile, darting your tongue out and wrapping it around the base of his cock, swirling it around the head before you take him in your mouth. You stare at him through thick lashes, bobbing your head up and down his thick shaft, spit spilling from the corners of your mouth. Glug, glug, glug.
The sound of you choking on his dick was like music to his hears, taking his all the way down your throat with no problem. How is he supposed to keep up? His brain is fried and his body already feels so weak from cumming two times in a row. But he can’t stop. It’s like you’ve put some kind of spell on him to make him want more. “Shit, I’m all the way in,” he gasps, fall back onto the pillows. You pull him out of your throat, string of saliva connect from your lips to his cock as you continue stroking him. You were so messy, so nasty, but he loved it so fucking much because this is always how he’d picture it.
You spit back on his cock before taking him down your throat again without warning. “Oh my—fuck me, I’m gonna fucking cum again!” He whimpers. His body jolts and his abs tense up at the sensation, pleasure shooting through his body like electricity. He’s so sensitive he can’t help it. His hips buck up into your mouth and next thing he knows, he’s cumming down your throat. “Nnngh shit!” He groans, each orgasm more intense than the last. It’s like as time goes on, he can’t help but get more horny, more greedy.
Within seconds he’s pulling you off his dick on bending you over, pulling your ass in the air. “I’m sorry, I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t,” he’s muttering to himself, sweat dripping down his body. He pushes every inch into you with such ease, like your pussy was made for him. “Feels so good, feels so good I can’t stop stop,” he cries, rummaging his hips into you, fucking hard and fast.
“You’re learning so quickly.” You smile from below him, pushing your ass back against his hips. He watches the way your ass bounces back on his dick and he becomes mesmerized. “That’s it! Fuck me harder. Show me how badly you wanna cum in my pussy again,” you giggle.
Choso pushes your head into the mattress, broken moans falling from his lips. “I need it so badly, so fucking badly.” Your pussy grips him like a vice and he hisses at the tempting feeling.
“Make me squirt all over your cock! Come on, fuck me like you mean it!” You grip the sheets below you, feeling his swollen head press against your sweet spot over and over with each grueling thrust. Upon hearing your words, Choso remembers all those videos he’s watching of girls squirting, and to make you squirt just because of him makes his brain fuzzy. He keeps the same pace, huffing and panting when your pussy grows tighter. “Yes! Yes!” You laugh, sighing in relief when he pulls out and clear liquid shoots from your pussy, coating his cock and sheets.
His eyebrows raise in amazement. “Holy fuck,” he watches the way your pussy leaks before urgently ramming his cock back inside of you. “Do it again. Squirt all over me again! Please! It’s so fucking hot!” He begs as he pounds your pussy like his life depends on it. “Wanna watch you—nnngh—squirt again!”
As if on cue, your pushy gushes around him again, soaking his thighs and his cock and just the sight of it makes him cum so hard he’s toppling over you. “Fuck! I’m cumming!” He thrusts deep inside of you, making sure not to waste even a drop. “Yes, yes!” He huffs, bucking his hips. “I need to taste you, need to fucking—mmm.” He drops to his knees, pulling your ass back against his face while his tongue slurps every drop his cum and your juices, licking through your sloppy folds and sucking on your clit.
“Eager little thing, aren’t you? Such a good, good boy.” You praise, reaching behind you, taking a fistful of his hair and pushing his face deeper into your cunt. His moans at your taste, his free hand reaching down to stroke his swollen and sensitive cock. He moves his tongue up and down, running back and forth between your clit and your ass, and back down to your hole. You quickly pull him away before sitting up.
“Did I do something wrong? Why’d you stop?” He looks at with sad eyes.
“You’re done.” You look down at his cock.
“No, no, I’m not. I promise I still have more. Just keep fucking me, let me eat your pussy or something! Don’t leave!” He pouts, watching you crawl towards him.
“As much as I’d like to keep playing with you, you’re all out of cum, pretty boy.” You smirk. “I’ve got other desperate virgins like you to attend to.” You ghost your lips over his and Choso leans in for a kiss but you pull back from him. “You’re welcome.”
You disappear into a dark corner in his room, like you faded away into it. He runs to turn on his light and sees you’re completely gone. He’s at a loss for words, standing in the middle of his room completely naked. He looks towards his bed, seeing the wet spots you had left. So it was real? No? Yes? He didn’t know what to believe. He accidentally summoned a sex demon to take his virginity. If only he could do it again.
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euthymiya · 4 months ago
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“Have you ever wondered where we’ll get married?”
Your question comes out of nowhere—not much catches Sukuna off guard, but this question manages to make him pause. His eyes don’t leave the screen of his phone, thumb swiping along as he sits beside you. You drag a finger along his tattooed arm, grinning as he clicks his teeth.
“Who said I want to marry you?” He grunts.
You smile wider. It’s a knowing, amused little thing that stretches over the contours of your face like you know better. (You do. Sukuna is better at lying than telling the truth, but you’re even better at picking apart every little fib for the honesty he doesn’t want you to know. You wonder if he realizes that.)
“Who else would you marry?” You snort, “that girl from the convenience store? She has the hots for you, y’know.”
You nudge him with your shoulder, biting back a laugh when his lips curl into an almost irritated sneer as he scoffs. “She’s ugly.”
“Harsh,” you pretend to wince in sympathy, “then the waitress at that cafe? Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed her eye your tattoos.”
“Too fuckin’ whiny. Her voice makes my eardrums bleed.”
You can count on one hand the number of people Sukuna tolerates—and yes, it’s important to note that he tolerates people. He doesn’t really like anyone. He likes you, though. You’re a little confident about that because when your fingers slip under his shirt to glide against his bare chest, he lets you. He leans into it, too.
It’s because he likes you.
“Oh!” You gasp, snapping your finger like you’ve just thought of the perfect idea, “that girl from the bakery? She gives you free stuff all the time. I love it when I get to eat free bread, don’t you?”
“No. She’s a pushover. It’s pathetic.”
“We’ll never get you a wife at this rate,” you sigh dramatically, shaking your head. You look almost—almost—saddened by the idea. And then you perk up, “what about we search for a husband for me, instead? How about that guy from—”
“What the fuck are you on about?” He turns his head to glare at you. He’s annoyed—you can tell because his eyes are narrowed and his jaw is clenched. You can also tell because his heart is beating under your hand. One thump after the other. Faster, faster.
“Well I have to find someone if you won’t do it,” you pout. “I want a wedding in Okinawa. Know any guys who don’t mind getting married in Okinawa?”
“No,” he growls. His heart is still beating. Faster, faster.
“Then I’m doomed,” you collapse against the couch, theatrically draping an arm over your face as you woefully add, “my big fat Okinawa wedding dreams broken. What ever—”
“Enough,” he hisses. He grabs your hand, inspects the fingers for a moment before casually tossing it back onto your lap as he mumbles, “you can have your stupid wedding if it shuts you up. And don’t talk to that guy ever again.”
And then he’s back to scrolling through his phone, thumb gliding across the screen as you curl into his side with a satisfied grin. Sukuna doesn’t like anyone. He could make a list of all the reasons why.
It all boils down to the fact that none of them are you.
“Perfect,” you say excitedly, “we’ll get married in Okinawa, then. Here are the rings I had in mind—pay attention, okay?”
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sometimes you just have to gaslight your feral bf into marriage, you know?
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yuutryingtowrite · 4 months ago
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Yandere!Barista who is the “poster boy”of the coffee shop he works at. It is honestly deserved: he has a pretty face, a charming smile and a playful yet sweet attitude. He is especially popular among the girls…who he keeps rejecting. He is just not looking for something casual, you know? He dates to marry, not to be someone’s eye-candy.
Yandere!Barista who, one day, sees you walk into the store. Is that a Corroded Coffin shirt you have on ? He loves that band! This is what he tells you when it is your turn to order. What do you mean he looks too much like a goody two-shoes to be a fan? Alright, Miss “I am so dark and edgy”, what do you want to order? Black coffee? The banter goes on until he has to shoo you away, with an amused smile, as the other people in line are starting to get impatient.
Yandere!Barista who glances your way every chance he gets. Not only are you fun to talk to, but you also look really cute. Sometimes, between orders, he gets to converse with you. He eagerly returns your small wave when it is time for you to leave. As he goes to your table to collect the receipt, he finds your cup still there. On it, there is a small doodle of him along with your number. A pink hue dusts his cheeks as he brings a hand to cover the side of his face. He is definitely keeping that cup.
Yandere!Barista who saved your number under “Cutie <3”. The more you text each other, the more you hang out together, the more he becomes obsessed. It is honestly starting to scare him. The other night, he had your cup in his hands to look at the doodle. Next thing he knew, he had his lips where yours had been when you were drinking from it. It flustered him so much, he threw the cup in the trash bin afterwards…only to go get it back five minutes later…He is asking you out on a date for sure next time he sees you.
Yandere!Barista who does your coffee with trembling hands. He really doesn’t want to do this, but you didn’t leave him a choice. Today, on your usual table, you are sitting with a man other than him. He can’t possibly lose the only person who took the time to get to know him beyond his looks. The drug should work in about fifteen minutes, five minutes after closing time. This should be perfect, you always wait for him to close the shop and walk home together. He can do this, he can do this, he can do this…You will be happy at his house, you will be happy with him. It is with a heavy mind and painful heart that he gives you your order.
Yandere!Barista who you got pinned against the wall of the storage room, one hand beside his head and the other one holding your cup. He is as white as a ghost. He keeps looking around. He is sweating all over. This couldn’t be. You couldn’t possibly know- You firmly grab his jaw and turn his face towards you. “Drink”, you say coldly. What are you gonna do to him after he becomes unconscious? Will you report him to the police? Will you hurt him? He closes his eyes tightly as you bring the cup to his lips. The moment it reaches them, you drop it on the floor and replace it with your lips. His eyes open in shock as you give him a small, tender kiss. “That was my cousin, idiot”, you tell him affectionately. You look at him for a couple more seconds before putting on your bag. He is still frozen in place as you add: “Tomorrow, 6pm, at my house. Alright?”. You leave before he can answer.
Yandere!Barista who slides down the wall until he is sitting on the floor. All that is left of him is a blushing, quivering mess. With shaky fingers, he touches his lips; a small whimper involuntarily comes out his mouth. He is about to combust. He feels so weak, he can’t get up. You scared the shit out of him, but that was so hot ahh…He didn’t know you could be this assertive. And that kiss…he buries his face in his hands and groans. Kissing you is all he has ever dreamed of, yet he stayed still like a dumbass when it finally happened. He is so lame-you make him so lame. Guess tomorrow would be his chance to redeem himself.
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snowsinterlude · 11 months ago
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need someone older.
(teacher!coriolanus × student!reader.)
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summary: a teacher can do a lot in private lessons.
c.w: reader is 19 for repeating a year, age gap (coryo's 29), fingering, tummy bulge, heavy smut, edging (f. recieving), overstimulation, stuffed panties, mild public sex, petnames (coryo calls reader bunny, pet, good girl.), reader thinks coryo is married so . cheating implications, marriage proposal
being a dumb girl was something you tried your best to do ever since you repeated the first year of high school, watching all your friends graduating before you was something you weren't proud about- not for them, but for you. you were supposed to be by their side.
thankfully, you had your professor, coriolanus snow. god. he was the only reason for you to pay attention to class (or at least try to), you were hungry for his approval. for you to be called a "good girl", and be said that you've done well in your tests? yeah, you were willing to do anything for that.
when he offered you private classes, you said yeah without even thinking much. you needed to learn, and spending more time with him was something you craved for. the ring on his finger? fuck it. you wanted it. you deserved it. more than his wife – if he had one.
you've been day dreaming about it constantly, eyes always searching for his on every class you had with him, and he would keep that smile painted on his face, not wanting anyone to think you were the reason for him to be smiling, even if you were, the didn't need to know about it.
"bunny," he voiced, leaning on your desk and taking advantage of the fact that you both were on the library, every student on the school had gone home and the teachers had gathered to go to a nearby bar. "stop looking at my dick now, will we?" he said, chuckling at you.
"huh?" you asked, finally waking to your reality.
"you need to learn that if you don't want to repeat a grade again." he said, sitting by your side, his hand holding your thigh. "you don't want to repeat now, do you?" you shaked your head negatively, and he loved seeing you like that, shy as a kitten even if you usually had his dick on your mouth when that used to happen. "c'mon, don't look at me like that. we have to put these things on your brain if you want to graduate already." he said.
his fingers slowly travelled all the way up on your panties, finding a small damp on the fabric, he looked at you with his usual smirk, his pupils blown already from everything he was about to do to you.
and now you looked like a mess. hands gripping on the library desk as your legs trembled with the aftermath of every time you almost came. you counted six till now, crying from how good it felt having him behind you, his fingers thrusting lewdly into your cunt.
"c-coryo- t-teacher, please. please stop it, i have to cum- i can't hold it in anymore!" you begged, clenching as his fingers rubbed deliciously on your clit after thrusting so many times inside you.
"well, it's not my fault, pet. you're the one getting your questions wrong." he said, pulling his dick to tease the core of your pussy, your cries only making him feel and making his ego bigger. "tell me, baby, how do you want it?"
"q-quick, pleease! if it get slower i-i think i'll die!" you said, legs spread as your skirt revealed a small part of your ass.
"oh, c'mon, i'm sure you can take it, baby" he purred in your ear, the tip of his cock teasing your pussy and slapping your clit slightly, making your body jolt slightly. you bend over, your elbows being now your main support at that table.
"please, teacher..!" you begged. but he didn’t even bat an eye to your cries, slowly sliding his dick inside you, and fuck, you both fucked on wednesday, how come he always seems to stretch you up so good? the pace he choose to torture you with was so slow, making sure you felt every inch of his dick inside you, stretching you, making you his. "please, don't do that to me. j-just ask something easier!" you cried.
"easier? okay... let's see" his hips bucked slowly into yours, your pussy gushing around him as if your own body needed that- as if he was the hair you breathed for. "what's your age, babe?" he asked, a playful tone being cast as his free hand massaged your boob, pinching on your nipple and freeing both your boobs from it's cage.
"n-nineteen." you said, and he laughed again as he said: "good girl, you're right.", his hips giving you a powerful thrust that made you cum with only that, making you cry from your own humiliation.
"ah, bunny, don't tell me you came already only with that." he said, joking with your face as you cried.
"i'm sorry- too good. i-it was too deep." he laughed, pulling back and thrusting deeper again, this time, you made sure not to cum again, edging yourself as he changed your position to put your leg over his broad shoulder, his dick making a bulge appear at your tummy. he loved that view- much more than he loved you.
"look at you, taking me so well. how does it feel, baby? use one of the words we learned at the literature class," he grunted your tightness coating his dick with your own juices, "use them, even if it's just two, and i'll let you cum."
"tortuous," you begin, crying from how good it felt, from how dumb you were getting. "spiralling, it's twirling my insides!" you cried. and he smilled, kissing and licking your tears before placing the most gentle kiss on your lips, pouding faster into you as you closed your eyes shut, moaning and grunting from all the pleasure- and yet you tried your best to avoid moaning only to hear his moans and the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh.
"good girl." he said, his hands holding your hips as he fucked you. it felt truly out of your world experience. his phone ringed just at the right moment he hit your cervix. "t-teacher, your phone- it can be your wife." you said, earning a frown from him as he turned the phone off.
"wife? baby, i'm single." he said, chuckling at you. "you've been walking around school with my cum stuffed in your panties even thought you thought i was married?" he pounded into you with a more quicken pace. "god, what a dirty girl you are. fucking around with married teachers." he teased you.
you felt a heat on your cheeks that you never felt before. god, how much would you end up humiliating yourself? "b-but, fuck! y-your ring-"
he showed you the ring. taking it off his finger with his mouth and sticking his tongue to you, an invitation for you to take the ring.
"keep it." he said once you took the ring
"but- s-sir, i-"
"mm, bunny, i'm a faithful man." he said. "and right now, i'm faithful to you." he said. you squirmed deliciously at the feeling of his cock filling you up again, his tip on your cervix as you came again, and soon enough, he came too.
he helped you get dressed into your panties again and straightned your clothes, a cast kiss on your lips before he smiled sweetly at you, putting the ring on your middle finger.
"i hope you know what that means."
"i-i do." you said, for both questions heavily implied in that context.
"great. then make sure to graduate, bunny." he smiled. "i'm sure the honeymoon will be great."
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pedroscurls · 2 months ago
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in every lifetime
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summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.
“I’ll be back.”
“But what if–”
“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 
“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 
“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 
“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 
There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.
But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 
Through it all, you stayed. 
And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 
“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 
“And if I can’t?” 
“You’ll have to.” 
“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”
“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 
And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 
You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 
You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 
In your dreams, he was alive. 
In your dreams, he had made it back home.
In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 
And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 
Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 
For yourself.
For Laura.
For Logan. 
He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 
But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 
Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 
Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 
He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 
Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 
“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”
“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 
Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 
That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 
“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”
“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 
“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”
“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.
“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.
Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 
He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 
Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 
But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 
“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 
“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 
Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 
“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 
“From my universe,” Logan answers. 
“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 
“There was.”
“And what happened to me?” 
Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”
“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 
Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 
And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.
“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 
There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 
My Logan. 
Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 
“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”
“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 
Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 
Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 
“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.
You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 
Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 
“I’m not him,” he whispers. 
“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 
2K notes · View notes
torubeth · 8 months ago
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degradation taken too far (mature content 18+)
context/warnings : it’s smut, so kids shoo! hell of a lot of degradation. they’re so mean i hate them. (swearing, words used : slut and slutty) angst to i have no idea what. pls do lmk if i missed any tws. and as always, its not proofread :p gojo ver.
ryomen sukuna ‘is that all you can do? all your yapping earlier about ridin’ me was just talks? answer me’ his sudden shift in demeanour has you feeling really small. sure he is a rude ass prick but not to you. never to you.
‘no- i can take it. i really can ryo’ tears sting at your eyes as you struggle to take in his full length. his hands giving your waist a small squeeze.
‘yeah and that’s all you’ve been saying for the past goddamn fifteen minutes. either you take it like a good girl or i’ll just have to find someone who will. trust me, i can’ he eyes held no remorse of the words he just spewed and that’s when you break.
correction, you shatter.
somewhere in the back of your head you knew he’ll never leave you but him wording it out makes it seem like it’s bound to happen.
and so tears stroll down your cheeks, your hands and legs giving out on you, your body going limp against his and you whisper the same thing over and over again.
‘don’t leave me ryo. i’m sorry. didn’t mean to upset you. i’m so sorry. don’t leave’
quickly his arms wrap around your body protectively, your face between his shoulder blade and neck, wetting the area with fresh batch of tears.
‘i could never leave you. you’re-’ you’re it for me. ‘you’re always the one that keeps me sane. there’s no way i’ll ever leave you. i’m sorry baby, forgive me. i didn’t mean a word of what i said’ he says.
when he didn’t get a response from you ‘look at me’ he whispers. slowly you leave the comfort of his neck and meet his eyes.
‘i didn’t mean it. you could leave me on deathbed and i still wouldn’t mean it’
‘i can’t leave you ryo. i love you way too much’ you sniffle, new tears threatening to spill so you go back to huddle against his neck.
god. he knows you mean it. and that’s what makes him feel like a dickhead.
‘me too, i- i lo-’ he struggles, just as your palm reaches up to cover his mouth.
‘i know ryo, i know’ you whisper, placing your forehead against his, both of you basking in the quietness of the surrounding.
geto suguru ‘fuckin-! ah shit! some insane grip you have on me baby. can’t move if you clench and lock me up like that’ he smirks against your neck.
‘and a bit quiet today ain’t ya? you sure had a lot to say to satoru earlier heh’ he remarks.
‘we were just catching up suguru, nothing-! nothing more’ you whine.
‘catching up you say? does catching up require smiles and touches? do they angel baby?’ he raises his eyebrows.
‘no..’ you avert your eyes away from his.
‘that’s what i thought. so for that, now you pay’ he pulls out suddenly, and pushes all the way back in making you yelp out loud.
‘sugu! ah fuck, i don’t think i can go another round baby. s’too much!’ the pressure was starting to get to you and you were starting to lose stability.
‘hah, i know you can baby, this slutty pussy’s all you’re good for anyway. fuck, doesn’t matter whose it is, as long as you’re filled. am i right?’ his words pierced straight through your heart.
since when did he-?
out of reflex, your hands reach out to touch his face to make sure that this was a dream nightmare. otherwise there’s no way he-
‘don’t touch me with those filthy hands’ he spits but makes no effort to push your hand off.
‘do you really think that’s all i’m good for?’ your voice is soft, filled with pain, and suddenly it’s like he’s broken out of his trance.
what the fuck am i doing, he thought.
slowly he pulls out, all whilst holding your hand against his cheek.
‘absolutely not. no. fuck, did not mean it angel. i promise. i- i don’t know what came over me-! didn’t mean it. please i’m sorry. next time if i ever lose my shit with you, i want you to take the nearest sharp object and plunge it into my chest’ he heaves out a guttural sigh.
‘you were really mean you know..’ you wipe your eyes.
‘i know baby, fuck. i didn’t mean it. i did not mean it. i’ll never do it again princess, ever’ he repeats.
his face lands on your chest, thanking all the gods and the stars out there for giving him another chance.
he’ll never screw up again and that’s a promise.
nanami kento ‘you really couldn’t wait for a few hours? just had to go and think with your cunt, right? have you no- ugh! no shame?’ his thrusts were sloppy as his hands were placed around your hips.
‘kento- slow down baby, i- i don’t think i can last’ you whine, hands clutching at the sheets.
‘no. you asked for this you little slut. so shut. the. fuck. up. and take it!’ each syllable was accompanied by a harsh thrust.
the usually composed, sweet and calm nanami was nowhere to be found. he’s never once called you a ‘slut’ and what caused this? you rubbing him through his pants and riling him up at his office dinner earlier tonight.
he warned you off multiple times but did you listen? no.
‘why are you so quiet now? i thought this is what you wanted’ his voice comes out raspy and cold.
a quiet but audible whimper escaped your lips, making him halt his actions.
slowly he pulled out, gently laying you on your back as your body shook with each sob.
‘sweetheart…? why are you…’
you look up at him, eyes puffy and swolllen ‘i’m sorry kento, it’s just that, you’re never home these days and i missed you so much’ a cry that’s sure to crack his heart leaves your lips.
‘i just wanted you all to myself for tonight but i didn’t mean to be a bother-’
his warm body hovers over yours, ‘you’re never a bother baby. always know that. you will always be at the top of every and any list i make. there’s nothing more i want than coming home to you everyday after work. and i didn’t mean to lash out at you. you didn’t deserve that, i’m sorry’ he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.
‘you will always have me sweetheart, never forget that. now let me make it up to you yeah?’
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whorelaud · 18 days ago
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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 possessive ¡
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summary rafe only realizing he's head over heels for you after you give up on getting him to like you, and move on to someone else. jealousy overrules his resist to give you space, eventually confronting you about the situation.
contains jealousy, slight angst, confessions, hurt/comfort, fluff!! wc; 2.7k
a/n fluff and angst yaya this was very fun 2 write ^-^ hope u enjoy!!
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You knew it was time to get over Rafe when you caught him laughing and messing around with another girl, while he barely ever sent a smile your way. 
It broke your heart to pieces, the sight of the man whom you loved the most, cracking jokes with a girl he met five minutes ago, when you’ve been trying to pursue him ever since you were teens. 
Your family were good friends with the Camerons, which is how you were introduced to Rafe. After you moved to figure eight, his family were of great help when it came to adjusting. Sarah was kind enough to show you around town, and Rafe… well he was there. 
You developed an attraction to the boy from the moment you saw him, and it just grew from there. You knew your love was unrequited, however, you couldn’t help it, not with the slightest moments hinting that he might’ve been into you.
Whether it was the small smile he’d flash you as a sincere apology, or how protective he’d get whenever his friends try to influence you in a bad way. It all made your pulse quicken, getting your hopes up, thinking that he might’ve had the same motives as you. 
You were in the same friend group, meaning of course, you’d be seeing him often. That was besides the family dinners you shared every weekend, nothing but causing your unrequited crush to evolve into something more. 
You knew Rafe, the boy always kept to himself, the older he got, the more mature he became, distancing himself from his surroundings. That only made you want him more, knowing deep down, there was more to him, not just the cold persona he created for himself. 
You thought it was a fleeing moment, that you’d probably get over him as you grew, but you didn’t; in fact, things only got worse. You started wanting more from him, feeling your heart break a little whenever he introduced you as a family friend, or dismissed his friends whenever they teased you two about being together. 
He’d always laugh it off, brushing off their assumptions with a simple, ‘we’re just friends, she’s like Sarah to me’, and that, it really did it for you. You’d ignore him for a day or two, and give in when he texts you asking whether you were going to show up at the family gathering. 
Sure, he broke your heart, but he was quick to cover it up with sweet words that were the bare minimum to others, but to you? They meant the world to you, and that alone was enough to sum up your feelings for him.
However, this time around, nothing could fix the pang of emptiness that filled your chest, when you spotted Rafe laughing with another girl that wasn’t you, not a worry behind his eyes. He looked happy, that when you saw him, tears instantly welled up in the corner of your eyes, feeling your heart sink to your stomach from the scene you had witnessed.
That was it, your last straw. You decided it was finally time to move on, not able to bear the pain anymore. It was a hurtful sight, really. You validated the fact that you might end up with him one day, your dreams coming crushed when you lost all hopes of ever having him.
It was clear that something was going on between them, hell,  who were you to decide who he ends up with? After all, you were just a family friend to him, nothing more. 
You spent the next few days, weeks, months getting over him, you were determined to do it this time, hanging out less with him, and instead spending more time with the pogues. You started attending less family gatherings, not going unless your parents insisted on dragging you there. 
And when you did join them, you’d avoid the boy with all your might, looking past the puzzled expression that spread across his face whenever he saw you. His gaze would be glued to you the whole night, seeking your eyes with his own, even if it was for a mere moment. 
But you didn’t give him the satifcations. You wanted him to know that you weren’t the same girl who begged for his attention for years, only getting it now that you were ignoring him. 
Rafe on the other hand, well, he can’t state that he wasn’t desperate to find out what went down. Things were normal between you two, until one day, you decided to randomly ignore him, not bothering to text him, or check up on him anymore. 
He tried to crack a conversation out of you, whenever you attended events– which was rarely, now on, merely to be met with a dry response in return. You’d brush off his concerned questions, coming up with an excuse to immediately leave the conversation. 
He had them memorized by now, it was either you getting a phone call, or a text, sometimes needing to use the bathroom came in handy, and the most common one was of course, that you weren’t feeling well, telling him you’ll continue the conversation later on, though that was a lie. 
Rafe was well aware of that. He knew you were upset at him for something he did, that not even the things he usually does to get your attention could solve it. He wishes you discussed your discomfort with him instead of completely bailing on him, refusing to hangout with the rest of your friend group whenever he’s around. 
He can’t lie and say it didn’t hurt his ego, because it did, seeing you give someone the same smile you’d flash him months ago, now desperate for even a single word out of you. For a while, he thought going with the flow would turn things back to how they were, but that only made it worse.
He was starting to miss hanging out with you, having you chill on his bed while he played video games, his whole room smelling like you for days, from being able to recognize your scent on his pillow. 
It bothered him, not being able to hear all about your day, seeing your excitement dedicated to someone else, when it should’ve been him instead. He could only watch you from afar now, gaze burning through your skin until you somehow acknowledged him. 
Going to parties wasn’t fun anymore, he didn’t look forward to events now that you weren’t there, only attending in case he got to see you. He tried, he really did, attempting to get over the uncomfortable feeling rushing through his insides whenever he spots you from afar, wanting nothing but to go up to you, tell you all about how much he missed you.
He knew you though, he was aware that would lead to no good, causing you to further drift apart with the latter, as if it wasn’t bad enough already. He resisted the pang of jealousy that filled through his chest, held back, until he no longer could. 
He couldn’t help the possesivness that washed over him when he spotted you with a man, laughing at a stupid joke he told you while caressing his arms. The little gesture encouraged the latter, causing him to sneak his arms around your waist. 
Rafe’s jaw clenched, tightening his hold around the beer he had in hand, the sight causing anger to bubble up inside him. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this, acting the same way you did with him in the presence of someone else. 
He felt a ping of jealousy, wishing it was him instead, holding you and claiming you in front of everyone else, despite the misunderstanding you had going on. Topper tried to ease up the tension, noticing the way Rafe was intensely staring at you. 
He offered Rafe a drink, telling him to relax and enjoy the party, however, that wasn’t of much help, as his attention was fixed on you the whole night. He tried to resist, he really did, reaching his limit when the boy leaned down to kiss your cheek, the action earning a chuckle out of you. 
That alone, it had Rafe raging, walking towards you with anger visible on his face. He didn’t bother apolgizing to the people he bumped into on the way to you, his mind too accompanied with you to process anything else. 
His breath knocked out of his chest once he was in your presence, your scent instantly filling his nostrils, the same one he’s been grieving to take a whiff of, even for a moment. You turned in the latter’s direction when you sensed him hovering behind him, yet in the other man’s hold. 
“Rafe?” You mumbled over the loud music playing, noticing the look of discomfort on his face. “Is something wrong?”
“You’re coming with me.” He replied, grabbing you by the wrist, merely for you to yank his hand off, immediately growing irritated. 
“What are you doing?” You shot back, eyebrows furrowing with confusion. “What the hell, dude? Can’t you see I’m busy here?”
“Mhm, you look real busy, cuddled up in a random dude’s arms.” He scoffed, “Your moment told me to drop you off, I’m taking you home.”
“I'm capable of getting myself home,” your face scrunched with annoyance, reaching out for your phone, checking to see whether your mom texted you. “Besides, my mom didn’t even say anyth–”
“For fuck sake,” he cut you off, tugging you by your arm, this time able to drag you off the man’s side, who stared at you with confusion. “Just come with me, why are you making things complicated?” 
You mumbled a quick sorry to the man, as Rafe dragged you out against your own will, leading you through the dimly streets, until you eventually approached his car. He unlocked the vehicle, opening the door to the passenger seat, silently signaling for you to get in.
“What are you doing, Rafe?” You shouted, shoving him off of you. “What is wrong with you?”
“Get in.” He replied, tongue darting out to wet his lips. 
“I’m not going with you,” you stated, persistent with your decision. “My mom didn’t ask you to drop me off, I know you’re lying to me.” 
“Get in the fucking car,” he ordered, causing you to slightly wince. Realization washed over him, aware that he was scaring you. “Fuck, I’m sorry– I didn’t mean to–”
“Fuck you,” You hit his chest, attempting to stop him from taking another step forward. “You always fucking do this; every time you see me happy.” 
“Listen, okay– I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you like that.” He muttered, gaze lingering on your arms pressing to his chest. “Let me jus’ get you home, so I know you’re safe.” 
“You can’t do that,” you choked out, feeling tears form in the corner of your eyes. “You can’t do this to me anymore, I won’t allow it.”
“Why not?” He questioned, frustration visible through his voice. “I did it before, why can’t I do it now?” 
“That’s the problem,” you shook your head, gaze finding the ground, afraid you would give in if you saw Rafe. “I don’t want you to treat me the same way you did, I’m tired of you confusion’ me, over n’ over again.” 
“Then what about me?” He asked, causing you to glance up. “Have you considered my feelings when you decided to ignore me?” 
“Why should I?” You scoffed, despite the tears falling down your face. “After all, I’m just a family friend, nothing more.”
“Fuck that,” he spit out, “That’s not a good excuse for you to ignore me. You know how confused I was?” 
You remained silent for a moment, taken aback by the statement. Rafe’s hands found his forehead, letting a stressful sigh escape his throat. 
“You know how hard it was not having you around? I tried, I really did try to get over it, ignore the fact that you’re killing me alive, while being in another man’s arms.” He uttered, exhaling through his parted lips before he continued. “I mean– what even happened?” 
“You–” You started, vision going blurry, your tears like a waterful now. “You led me on, Rafe. Kept me around, despite the fact that you have a girlfriend.” 
“I– what?” He cocked his head to the side, fixing his attention on you. “I have a girlfriend?”
“You don’t?” You sniffled, now just as confused as he was. “Who was that girl you were with at Topper’s party?”
“Val?” Rafe questioned, recalling the said girl you were talking about. “You idiot, is that why you’re upset at me?” 
You flashed him a puzzled expression, watching as a smile tugged at his lips, washing over his frustration. It made you angry for a second, feeling belittled under his gaze, despite the seriousness you had displayed across your face. 
Rafe relaxed under your gaze, and you could’ve sworn his eyes flickered to your lips, but that might be your vision, blurred up with the tears in your eyes. However, before you could further question the latter, he leaned forward, ceasing the distance between you. 
His lips captured yours in a soft kiss, one you’ve been dying for throughout your entire years of knowing Rafe, crushing on him, not being able to reach out and touch him, even though you were dying to do it. You tensed under his hold for a moment, relaxing when he moved his mouth over yours, the gesture bringing you back to reality. 
You returned the kiss, feeling your pulse quicken within every passing moment. You couldn’t believe it, Rafe Cameron, the one whom you’ve been crushing on for years is kissing you, and you loved every second of it.  
The boy pulled away, letting his forehead rest over yours. His nose slightly brushed yours, and he was so close, you could feel his breath fanning over your face. He cupped your face with one of his hands, wiping your tears with his fingers. 
“Val’s my cousin, by the way.” He clarified, chuckling when an audible gasp escaped your throat. 
“You’re kidding.” You covered your mouth, disbelief visible on your face. 
“Mhm, I’m not.” He sneaked his arms around your waist, a teasing grin forming on his lips as he pecked your temple. “She was visitin’ the island, so it caught me off guard when I saw her.”
“Right.” You replied, too embarrassed to meet the boy’s gaze. “That’s…”
“Cute,” he snickered, continuing your sentence. “You’re so adorable, I didn’t know you were ignoring me ‘cause you were jealous.” 
“Shut up!” You shoved his shoulder, “‘s not funny.” 
“I thought you knew how I felt about you.” He started, embracing you in a hug as his chin gently rested on top of your head. 
“How you felt about me?” You repeated, feeling your face heat up. 
“I like you.” He confessed, “I like you so much, it hurts seeing you with someone else, knowing I should've been the one in his position.” 
You froze in your spot, eyes slightly widening at the confession. Your heart was beating so hard, you were afraid it might pop out of your chest any second now. You were in a state of disbelief, mind too hazed up to comprehend what the boy said. 
The Rafe Cameron likes you, out of everyone else, you. Teen you would be screaming and fanning herself right now. 
“How was I supposed to know that?” You muffled against his chest, fingers fiddling with the buttons attached to his shirt. “You always ignored me, y’know.” 
“That’s not true,” he pulled away, “Everyone in our friend group knows I like you, I was scared it might make you uncomfortable, that’s why I always brushed it off whenever they teased you about me.” 
“You’re so stupid,” you chuckled, sniffilng once more. “I’ve liked you for years, you know that?”
“Oh, I know now.” He cupped your face, a knowing smile suppressing it’s way across his. “Never ignore me again, tell me next time something bother you, okay baby?” 
You nodded, nuzzling your face into his chest once again. You let silence seep through the air for a moment, enjoying the comfortable hug Rafe wrapped you in, letting the boy rock you back and forth. 
“I had no idea who that man was, by the way,” you clarified, cutting through the quietness. “I jus’ went with the flow in hopes of getting you riled up.”
“I knew it!” 
1K notes · View notes
tired-biscuit · 9 months ago
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i want to ride yuuji so bad and then start crying cause he’s so thick and big and then have his strong arms wrap around me and then he starts thrusting up and we’re both drooling and moaning that would be a dream
18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: good girl, good girl, GOOD GIRL!
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he’s cooing at you while caressing your cheeks and wiping your tears away, and it’s all so goddamn sweet that it outright hurts; in a good way, though.
always in a good way when it’s with him.
especially because he does it so effortlessly? being kind is like second nature to someone like yuuji and it’s hard not to melt into a puddle of gooey emotions and spill even more tears when he’s looking up at you with hearts in his warm honey-coloured eyes and there’s this prominently lovestruck look on his face that makes him look even dumber than he already is.
but he’s also cute, awfully so. his hair is an absolute mess, his lips are in the colour of dark pink from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed, and his skin burns so hot that he’s sweating like crazy underneath the thick hoodie that he’s still got on. you’ve been in such a rush to get him inside you that you’re both still completely dressed, aside from the bits of clothing that have been tugged down and pushed to the side in order to make the entire thing easier for you, of course.
however, having all these layers on is simply excruciating. the heat makes him pant and causes his chest to heave in a faster rhythm than normal; and all those breaths make it somewhat hard to get all the praise that he feels for you out of his system.
but yuuji is no quitter. so he swallows the runny saliva that keeps on gathering in his mouth between sentences and threatens to spill past the corner of his lips. it’s audible and it makes his adam’s apple bob in his throat, and yet he still manages to thank you in hushed, trembling whispers and broken grunts and moans.
he thanks you for being such a good girlfriend; for being so willing to give it a chance when it comes to riding him and taking him in all the way, despite the fact that it’s only been a couple of days since he’s taken your virginity and your most sensitive parts are still sore and tender from all the gentle pounding — but pounding nevertheless — he had done after getting his first taste.
you feel heat sear your face as you listen to the jumble of gratitude he’s putting before you and look at him from underneath your lashes, trying to not pay mind how tears still cling to them as stubbornly as ever.
this entire thing has not gone the way you’ve imagined it to go at all and it’s frustrating as hell. and how couldn’t it be? i mean, you’ve known how big he is, have known how it feels to have him inside you, but jesus fucking christ, this position is nowhere as easy as missionary had been — and even then you’d struggled a great deal.
because now, you’re the one who has to do all the work while he sits there, looking pretty, sometimes eyeing how your arousal glistens on his pubic hair, even though your clit hasn’t come anywhere near to kissing the spot from how much of a hard time you’re having when it comes to sitting on his dick entirely.
if only you could just—
“hey,” he says the word with such care as he cups your cheek that it sends butterflies twirling in your belly. his hand is just so big, it urges you to pet yourself against it like a little kitty. “you okay?” yet another look that’s brimming with concern is thrown your way. “we don’t have to do this if it’s too much, you know… just tell me.”
“did you really mean all that?” you mumble the exact moment his hands reach for your hips, clearly aiming to manhandle you into a position that you’d be able to endure a bit better.
“mean what?” he asks, glancing downwards just for a second as your hands stop his own. his cock twitches in response — he’s always been such a sucker for hand holding and this time is no exception. when your fingers intertwine, his heart sings in answer.
“that i’m a good girl?” the eye contact that you initiate in return is determined instead of anxious all of a sudden and it makes his pupils visibly dilate right in front of you.
it seems like you’re no quitter either.
“‘course i did,” yuuji replies in a heartbeat, cherishing how you squeeze around him whenever he gives you his approval, his praise. “you’re such a good girl, my good girl, the goodest girl to ever walk the good girl planet... they should make you mayor of goodie town.”
you giggle at that and his smile quivers with pleasure from how it makes your pussy tighten even more. he’s doing everything he can not to grab you, press you against his chest and just follow instinct and start slamming away.
maybe next time… maybe you’ll be ready for it next time.
“you’re so silly,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him again, though this time on the forehead. his skin tastes salty, and while it may be wrong, knowing that you’re not the only one that’s having a hard time right now makes you feel just a little bit calmer.
unbeknownst to you, the fact that you’re more relaxed allows you to take yet another inch of him inside you. your muscles slacken and his fat cockhead drags against your walls as a result, slipping and pushing in, in, in. the ring of cloudy white slick forms just a little below the lower half of his cock now, stretching you further and making your tummy feel hot and tingly.
it’s definitely progress.
and it makes poor yuuji moan straight into your mouth.
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