#see i was JUST about to tell him how i felt (maybe)

[evanbi-ckley]

“What if - what if I tell him I love him, but it’s too soon and scares him off?” 

Buck was getting more emotional as the conversation went on. He had come to dispatch hoping for advice from Maddie, and he doesn’t really know what he wants or needs to hear. 

“Buck, I think -”

“Buck?” Josh peeked into the break room, a confused smile on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I uh - I was asking Maddie about - well -”

“He’s in love,” Maddie said for him. Traitor.

Josh’s face lit up. “Ooh, is this the hot pilot? I can see why.”

“But I - it’s,” Buck stuttered, “it’s too soon, though, right?”

Eyebrows creasing, Josh asked, “How long have you been together?”

“Only seven months.”

“Only seven months?” Josh’s eyebrows shot up. Maddie elbowed him in the side. “Right, sorry, um. Well, do you feel it?”

“Feel - what?” Buck asked, looking frantically from Josh to Maddie and back.

“Like you’re in love, Evan,” Maddie said.

“Oh! Well, yeah. I - I’ve been in love before. It’s never really felt like this, but I know it’s love.” When Maddie and Josh shared a look, Buck asked, “What? What was that?”

A gentle smile spread across Josh’s face. “You should tell him.”

“But what if it’s too early? What if I scare him? I always move too fast and jump into things before thinking them through. I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Evan,” Maddie said, coming around the counter to lay a comforting hand on his arm, “that you’re even worried it’s too soon is a good sign that you’ve thought this through.”

Josh nodded in agreement. “And you’re serious about him. Anyone with eyes can see that.”

Releasing a shaky breath, Buck asked quietly, “What if he doesn’t say it back? He doesn’t have to, of course, but - but what do I do if he doesn’t?”

“You reassure him that he doesn’t need to say anything. You just want him to know how you feel,” Josh said, sharing another look with Maddie. “But I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

“What? Why?”

Maddie softly squeezed his arm. “Have you seen the way he looks at you?”

Buck couldn’t help but think of the way Tommy had looked at him just that morning, lying next to him, the soft morning light catching the blue of his eyes just right. He huffed a quiet laugh.

“Maybe you’re right.” He swallowed roughly, made his decision, and said, “There’s only one way to find out.”

[rafecameronssl4t]

Thinkin’ bout me || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @chenslucy

Summary: inspired by the lyrics of “thinkin’ bout me” Morgan Wallen 🤗🤗

Warnings: slight angst ig

Word count: 1,964

A/n: I rlly wanna do one with a Zach Bryan song but the ideas aren’t coming to me 😔

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

Don't know where you at, don't know where you've been. Don't know nothin' 'bout that boy you're into.

It had been two months since you’d left, pulling yourself out of Rafe’s orbit so completely that he’d almost started to believe you’d vanished for good. Then tonight, here you were, mingling at the yacht party like nothing had happened.

Only now, an unfamiliar blonde had his arm wrapped casually around your waist, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against your hip as you leaned in close to hear him over the music, a bright, carefree smile lighting up your face. Rafe’s stomach twisted at the sight.

He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he could see the way you laughed at something the guy said, your head tipping back as if his words were the funniest thing you’d heard all night. The version of you he saw now felt almost foreign to him—like he’d been replaced by someone who wasn’t weighed down by your shared past.

Maybe you really were happier, but seeing you with someone else so soon cut deeper than he’d anticipated. It was the smile that got to him the most—the one he remembered as his—now aimed at someone else.

Don't feel bad for you, but I feel bad for him. And all the hell you gon' be puttin' him through. Probably tell him we're a burnt out flame. Probably tell him that I ain't been on your mind. How I ain't nothin' but a long gone thing. You can cuss my name, but baby, don't you lie

The unfamiliar blonde looked wildly out of place in the gleaming luxury of the yacht party, as though he’d just wandered into the wrong scene altogether. He had a wholesome air about him that felt like it belonged more to a Kildare bonfire than this slick, exclusive gathering. Rafe’s jaw clenched as he watched the guy, wondering what you could possibly see in someone so blatantly average.

“Who are you staring at?” Topper’s voice broke into his thoughts, a teasing chuckle in his tone as he followed Rafe’s gaze. He spotted you almost immediately, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. “Oh. She looks good—”

“Shut the fuck up, man. Don’t wanna hear it,” Rafe muttered, not breaking his stare. He didn’t need anyone telling him how good you looked; he already knew. Topper just threw his hands up, backing off with a smirk. Before Topper could throw in another comment, you shifted, turning around just enough to spot him.

Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk, catching the way you froze for a split second and in that instant, he saw the flicker of nerves in your expression. Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk, watching the way you subtly fidgeted under his stare. He could practically see the wheels turning in your mind as you quickly turned back to the guy beside you.

The blonde followed your gaze, catching sight of Rafe and Topper watching. His expression tightened just slightly, his eyes darting back to Rafe every few seconds, clearly trying to size him up. Rafe’s smirk widened; he knew exactly what was going through the guy’s mind. You were probably telling him some watered-down version of what you and Rafe had been—a burnt-out flame, a chapter you’d left behind.

Maybe you were painting Rafe as the villain, the one you’d gotten over, glossing over the parts that didn’t fit. Even cussing him out just to make it seem like you’d moved on. But he saw right through it. He knew the kind of hell you’d probably put this guy through, the stories you’d tell him, the ways you’d pretend you’d forgotten.

He’d been in your life long enough to know you, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for this poor bastard. He didn’t feel bad for you—not anymore. But for the guy who thought he’d won you over? Rafe almost pitied him. He had no idea the hell you’d eventually put him through, just like you’d put Rafe through.

When you're tastin' what he's drinkin', are you thinkin' 'bout me? When you're ridin' where he's drivin', are you missin' my street?

Rafe’s eyes lingered on you, the smirk slipping into something colder as he watched you lean closer to the blonde, your laughter ringing out over the music. But he saw right through it. He knew you well enough to pick up on the tiny tells—the way you glanced over your shoulder just slightly, probably checking if he was still watching.

You were putting on a show, and he knew it. He could almost picture it: you, lifting a drink to your lips, tasting the same burn of bourbon he used to pour you, and wondering if it would ever hit the same. Or maybe it was later, on some midnight drive as the blonde took you back home, the car turning down familiar roads but never quite the right ones. He could almost feel that ache settling in you when his road, the one leading up to Tannyhill, passed by without a pause.

You might be so close, just one turn away, and yet still missing that feeling of belonging you’d only ever felt pulling into his place, the street you’d once called home. He could feel Topper glancing his way, but he didn’t care, didn’t let up. He wanted to make sure you knew he was still there, that he was watching you, and that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t just erase him. Not from those old habits, not from those half-forgotten memories that clung to you like shadows.

And even as you turned back to the blonde, pretending you didn’t care, he could tell. Somewhere, deep down, he knew you’d feel that same hollow ache—the same one he was feeling right now—whenever you tasted what he was drinking or found yourself driving down a street that just didn’t feel the same.

Every time you close your eyes, tell me, who do you see. Comin' over tonight, wish that truck in your drive was mine. Just like you know it's supposed to be

Every time you closed your eyes, he wondered if it was his face you still saw, if memories of him filled those moments you tried to shut out. He imagined you lying awake, maybe with that blonde by your side, but when you let your guard down, it wasn’t him you’d see. It was Rafe, pulling up to your place, the sound of his truck rumbling in the driveway as he walked up to your door, familiar and steady as if he’d never left.

He could picture it so clearly—his truck parked outside, headlights washing over your front porch, the way he’d make himself at home in your space without a second thought. Rafe knew you could pretend all you wanted, but when you closed your eyes, he’d be there, waiting in those memories you could never quite shake. And somewhere, deep down, he knew you’d feel that pang of regret every time you wished that truck in your drive was his.

When you're up in his bed, am I up in your head? Making you crazy, tell me, baby, are you thinkin' 'bout me?

He couldn’t help but wonder if, in those quiet hours of the night, when you were lying beside him, it was his name that slipped into your mind uninvited. When you were up in that guy’s bed, was it him who filled your thoughts instead—if the memory of his hands, his voice, his presence stayed just beneath the surface, making it impossible to forget. He wanted to know if he’d left a mark, lingering even now, pushing you to the edge of madness as you tried to convince yourself you’d moved on.

Rafe moved in quietly, blending into the crowd, making his way closer as he watched the blonde step away, leaving you alone for the first time all night. He didn’t hesitate, just closed the distance, eyes fixed on you with that knowing look you’d tried to ignore. Reaching for a glass, he pretended to pour himself a drink, but his attention was fully on you, his voice low and taunting.

“Tell me, baby,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, “are you thinkin’ ’bout me?” The words hung in the air between you, his gaze steady, daring you to look away. He didn’t need to say anything else. The challenge was in his eyes, his tone, the slight smirk playing at his lips as he watched your reaction. He knew he was under your skin, that no matter how hard you tried, memories of him had a way of creeping back. And now, standing close enough to feel the tension humming between you, he was waiting, pushing just enough to make you wonder if he’d ever really left your thoughts.

You swallowed, eyes narrowing as you tried to brush off the effect he still had on you. But the heat of his presence was unmistakable, almost magnetic, pulling you into that familiar territory you’d been trying so hard to avoid. His eyes searched yours, unreadable, but you caught the flicker of something darker beneath the surface—a mixture of anger, curiosity, maybe even the smallest hint of longing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, keeping your voice steady, forcing a smile that you hoped would mask the way your pulse quickened. But Rafe’s smirk only grew, as if he could see right through your act. He leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed against your ear, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Sure, keep tellin’ yourself that.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in as he stared at you side profile before chuckling to himself.

“But we both know who’s really on your mind tonight.” You felt a shiver roll down your spine, his proximity making it impossible to ignore the pull between you, the way his presence filled every corner of your mind despite the months apart. He lingered there, eyes never leaving yours, daring you to deny it, to keep pretending he was just a part of your past.

“You look good,” he added, voice soft, with just the slightest edge. “But maybe that’s ’cause I remember how you used to look at me.” The words hit harder than you’d like, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that left no room for anything else. You wanted to come up with something quick, something sharp to throw back at him. But for a second, you just stood there, caught in the moment, feeling the weight of every memory between you—the late nights, the laughter, the arguments, the way he’d looked at you like no one else ever had.

[capuccinodoll]

Honey love, dark eyes

♡ Chapter three ♡

Summary: Life seems to smooth out with Travis, but an encounter with another Miller stirs your feelings again. Joel comes home at night, and a box waits for him at the kitchen. Word count: 4.8k A/N: Here is a shorter chapter (compared to the previous ones lol) while we're waiting for part 4… Can't wait for the Hoffman's barbecue. Joel isn't usually enthusiastic about it, but something tells me he's not going to miss it this time. ALSO, I have tried to tag all of you, but for some reason some tags don't work, if anyone knows how to fix it please let me know <3.

October 17th. The first thing you discovered was a black sweatshirt, crumpled and forgotten, stuffed in the back of your closet among old clothes and memories. You tossed it into the washing machine and set off to search your house for more of Joel’s things. It didn’t take long to find remnants of him: an old Pearl Jam T-shirt, a white mug bearing his initial that you’d pilfered a few months prior, a couple of CDs with his eclectic taste in music, a well-worn paperback novel, and a screwdriver—the very tool you had used to assemble the small piece of furniture for your bathroom, a testament to your attempts at domesticity.

You placed the T-shirt beside the sweatshirt in the washing machine, feeling a bittersweet nostalgia wash over you as the machine began to spin, the water swirling like your thoughts. The rest of his belongings you carefully set aside in a wooden box, considering when and if you would return them to him. Maybe it would be a gesture of goodwill, a way to close a chapter, but the thought of confronting him felt daunting, like standing on the edge of a cliff.

Three weeks later, the distance felt like a weight in your chest. You hadn’t spoken since that last conversation, and every accidental encounter with him had turned into a delicate dance of avoidance, your eyes darting away as if to shield yourself from the unspoken pain. You suspected he was doing the same—his awareness of your schedule precise, his movements deliberate. You didn’t blame him for it; there was a strange gratitude in the space he had created between you, a sanctuary that allowed both of you to breathe.

Sarah, on the other hand, was a constant presence in your life, her visits frequent and welcome. You couldn’t decipher what Joel had shared with her, but she was unequivocal in her understanding that something had shifted between you and her father. 

“Dad said I can come see you as long as I don’t ask too many questions and I don’t fall asleep,” she announced brightly the first afternoon she bounded into your home, just two days after your last exchange with Joel. “But I want you to know I won’t say anything if you want to tell me everything.” 

Her offer was a balm, and despite the lingering pain, you found yourself laughing, the weight lifting slightly as you embraced her. In that moment, you felt relieved to know that Joel had managed to compartmentalize, that his daughter was not to bear the burden of your heartbreak, nor was she responsible for the fallout. You wanted to continue seeing Sarah, and thankfully, she wanted to keep coming over, a small beacon of normalcy in a turbulent time. That connection remained untainted by the rift between you and Joel.

The clock ticked on, and now it was five o’clock on a crisp afternoon. You stood in your front yard, the late autumn sun warming the back of your neck as you surveyed your plants. Closing your eyes, you savored the gentle warmth, the way it wrapped around you like a familiar embrace. Your lawn and those of your neighbors glowed with the fiery hues of orange and yellow, leaves fluttering like confetti in the soft breeze. It was, as always, your favorite season.

Suddenly, a voice broke through your reverie, calling your name. You turned to see Travis crossing the street, his smile brightening the drab fall afternoon. You waved back, unable to suppress a smile of your own as he approached.

“Enjoying the sunshine?” he asked, stopping beside you, his hand settling on your waist as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek.

“As much as I can,” you replied, a warmth spreading through you that was both comforting and surprising. Your gaze dropped momentarily to your feet before lifting back to meet his. “Going somewhere?”

“On a quest for dessert,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “Care to join?”

You hesitated, considering for a moment. “I’d better stay and get some work done,” you replied, gesturing toward your front door with a tilt of your head. “But let me know when you get back; I’d love to help with dinner.”

He nodded, a flicker of disappointment passing across his face before he masked it with a smile. After a brief goodbye, he left, giving your waist a gentle squeeze that sent a flutter through your stomach, leaving you feeling both elated and unsettled.

Two weeks prior, you had watched him run past your house, clad in sports gear, hair damp with sweat. There was something magnetic about him; he looked so effortlessly good that a rush of something—determination? Recklessness?—had surged through you. You couldn’t let your past with Joel hold you hostage any longer. It was absurd to keep Travis waiting, simply because you hadn’t been sure of what you felt, or how you should feel. So, you had gathered your courage and knocked on his door, your heart racing at the thought of stepping out of the shadows of your previous life.

When Travis opened the door, his surprise morphing into delight had made your resolve solidify. You’d admitted to him that you were navigating a rough patch, and to his credit, he seemed to understand without pressuring you further. That night, he whisked you away for dinner, and in the weeks that followed, the ease of your time together became a welcome reprieve. 

He was everything you needed—funny, honest, and refreshingly straightforward. He laid his feelings out without demanding anything from you, giving you space to breathe, to recalibrate. You had shared meals together, enjoying his company, indulging in laughter and sweet treats that he always brought, knowing they were your guilty pleasure. 

With him, everything felt uncomplicated, and the more time you spent together, the more you sensed your feelings beginning to shift, like the autumn leaves around you. That night, you resolved to let him make the first move, ready to embrace whatever came next.

*

“What did you think?” Travis asked, his gaze lingering on you, as if the answer might reveal something bigger.

You let out a laugh, the kind that builds in the chest and escapes before you can decide whether it’s actually funny or just absurd. “That was… utterly ridiculous,” you said, watching the movie credits roll up the screen. “Ridiculous and completely unbelievable.”

He grinned, sinking back into the couch beside you, his eyes meeting yours with a glint of shared amusement. “Right? It’s like... a marvel in chaos. Terrible, but in a way that you can’t look away.”

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a mix of disbelief and fondness for his strange taste in movies. Zombeavers. He’d made you watch Zombeavers—a movie so bizarrely nonsensical that you couldn’t help but laugh half the time, its zombie-beaver puppets meant to be terrifying but only succeeding in being bizarre. He’d assured you beforehand that it was purely for fun, the kind of film that didn’t demand to be taken seriously, and you’d been dubious but willing.

As your laughter softened, you shifted just a little closer to him, that familiar but thrilling nervousness making your heart flutter. Travis had turned his attention to scrolling through movie options, his fingers lightly tapping the remote as he concentrated. For a brief moment, you hesitated, wondering if it was obvious—how close you were, how much you wanted him to notice. Gathering your courage, you rested your head on his shoulder, letting your gaze drift up to his face just as he glanced down, his eyes softening.

“Are you sleepy, pretty girl?” he murmured, and his voice had that gentle, familiar warmth that made you feel like a teenager again. Your cheeks flushed, and you wondered if he could feel your pulse quicken against him.

“No,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper as you smiled up at him. Tentatively, you lifted a hand to trace the line of his jaw, your fingers grazing his skin as you tilted his face closer. “I just like being with you.”

Travis’s smile deepened, and he leaned in, his hand cradling your face with such tenderness that it nearly broke something in you. His lips met yours softly, a gentle touch, unhurried and respectful, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. You sank into the kiss, letting it ground you, feeling cherished and safe in a way you hadn’t for a long time.

But there, at the edge of your mind, was Joel. Joel with his intense, almost possessive hunger, the way he’d kiss you as if he were afraid he’d never have the chance again. That rawness, the recklessness—it was such a stark contrast to Travis’s gentle control, his restraint. And part of you hated yourself for even thinking about it, for craving something so reckless, for missing what you knew wasn’t good for you.

You pulled back slowly, afraid that your eyes might betray the swirl of conflicting feelings inside you. Travis’s gaze lingered, his hand still on your cheek, and he seemed almost reluctant to let you go, waiting for you to guide him back in. His patience was admirable, though you felt a strange frustration at the lack of urgency, the careful distance he maintained.

“I’m actually a little tired,” you said, giving him a quick peck on the lips, hoping he wouldn’t see through the slight restlessness in your eyes. “But I’d love to see you tomorrow. How about dinner at my place?”

He nodded, his face brightening. “Sounds perfect.” He stood, reaching out a hand to help you up. “I’ll walk you to your door, and that's just an excuse for another goodnight kiss.”

You laughed, reaching for his hand and letting him pull you up, feeling the warmth of his arm around you as you leaned against him. Outside, the air was brisk, the night cool against your skin, and you wished you’d thought to bring a jacket. Not that it mattered much; Travis lived just across the block, a short walk away, but close enough to Joel’s house that the proximity always felt strange. 

Crossing the street, you noticed Joel’s truck wasn’t there, and you willed yourself not to dwell on it, tuning back in to Travis’s voice as he asked, “Are you going?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Going where?” you asked, your voice apologetic. “Sorry, I zoned out for a second.”

“To the Hoffmans’ barbecue,” he said easily, unbothered by your momentary distraction.

Ah, the Hoffmans’ annual Halloween gathering, an event known for Brenda’s culinary enthusiasm and Ian’s grill mastery. Last year, Brenda had baked an array of spooky treats—eyeball jellies, spider cupcakes, you name it. Sarah had devoured at least ten jelly eyes, and you’d indulged in an uncountable number of chocolate spiders. The evening had ended with a viewing of Nightmare on Elm Street, and everyone had left buzzing with laughter and sugar.

“Yes, of course,” you replied, nodding with more enthusiasm. “Wouldn’t miss it. Brenda is amazing at baking. Have you tried her red berry cupcakes?”

“They’re dangerous,” Travis agreed, grinning as he walked you up to your doorstep.

A flicker of movement caught your eye, and you glanced over to see Tommy, Joel’s brother, sitting on the front porch of Joel’s house, a cigarette hanging lazily from his fingers. He watched you with a friendly, knowing smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back, though you quickened your pace slightly as you reached your door.

“So, what time tomorrow?” Travis asked, tilting his head.

“Eight?” you suggested, feeling an odd mix of excitement and unease.

“Perfect,” he replied, and once again his hand lifted to your cheek, thumb tracing the curve softly. But as he leaned in to kiss you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of invisible eyes from across the street, watching. Your mind lingered, unbidden, on Tommy’s piercing gaze.

Travis leaned down, and you met his kiss, brief, almost rushed, pulling away with a small, nervous smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you whispered, glancing up at him before stepping back. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, gorgeous,” he murmured.

You stood watching him leave, distractedly thinking about the evening you'd spent. You were annoyed that you hadn't accepted his date earlier, and at the same time, you didn't blame yourself too much. 

When Travis walked into his house and closed the door, an involuntary sigh escaped your chest.

"Everything okay over there?" Tommy’s voice jolted you out of your thoughts, sounding like a splash of cold water. He was sitting on the front steps, watching you with a casual curiosity that somehow felt entirely too knowing.

You approached slowly, glancing toward the empty entrance of Joel’s house.

"Hey, Tommy," you greeted, a hint of melancholy coloring your voice. It was strange, seeing him here alone—another Miller, but not the one who lingered in your mind. "How are you?"

Tommy stubbed out his cigarette on the step, shrugging with a small grin. "Well, currently on a break from babysitting duty," he joked. "What about you? It’s been a while—what’d Joel do now?"

A chuckle slipped from your lips, the irony of it all making your stomach tighten. He probably didn’t know anything, yet he’d been part of Joel’s carefully built wall of deception. It made you feel odd, but you brushed the feeling aside.

"I've just been busy," you said, knowing how unconvincing it sounded.

Tommy nodded, understanding the subtext without question. "Right," he said, an amused smile forming, "So, Dunn got the girl?"

You couldn’t help but smile back, though you realized too late that your openness might be ill-placed. "Yeah. He’s a good man. I really like him."

It felt surreal, sharing this with Joel’s brother, but somehow you didn’t mind.

"Sarah’s asleep?" you asked, changing the subject, hoping for some distraction.

He nodded, his smile softening. "Out like a light right after dinner. Poor kid didn’t even try the ice cream she begged me to get for movie night." He chuckled, shaking his head.

You smiled at the image, letting yourself savor the thought of Sarah, the cozy living room, the quiet warmth that had always drawn you to this house. It felt bittersweet, like glimpsing a life you no longer fit into. The last time you’d been there flickered in your mind, and any warmth vanished.

When you glanced back at Tommy, he was watching you, brow furrowed slightly, as if trying to read what you weren’t saying.

"I don’t mean to pry," he began cautiously, his tone gentle. "But Joel’s been… well, intolerable lately. Can I ask what happened?"

You raised an eyebrow, a sardonic smile creeping onto your lips. "Sure, Tommy," you replied, a touch of sarcasm bleeding through. "He hasn’t told you anything?"

"Are you kidding?" He laughed, shaking his head. "I asked him once, a couple of days ago, and he practically bit my head off."

You let out a dry sigh, crossing your arms. "He lied to me, pretty sure you know about that," you said, feeling the weight of it again. "We argued, and… things just happened."

Tommy’s eyes widened slightly, but the look of surprise faded quickly, replaced by a knowing smile. He stood up, crossing his arms as he stepped closer, his gaze amused and unrelenting.

"I knew it," he said, his grin widening. "You two slept together."

Your mouth fell open, and you dropped your arms, an incredulous laugh escaping.

"Shut up," you muttered, taking a step forward, cheeks flushing.

Tommy laughed, as if this moment had been a long time coming. "I always knew it would happen," he said, his tone only half-joking. "Ever since Joel introduced you, I swear, the guy had heart eyes and all. Poor guy looked like he was about to carve your name into every tree from here to the city limits. It was almost embarrassing."

You shook your head, a pang of sadness pressing on your chest. "That’s not it, Tommy. That’s not… it’s not true."

He studied you, unconvinced, his brow furrowing slightly, though the amused glint remained in his eyes.

"Joel doesn’t want this. He doesn’t want… us," you continued, your voice quiet but certain. "And honestly, I don’t think I do either." The words tasted bitter even as you said them, yet you held his gaze, determined to mean it. "I think I might actually like Travis."

"I see." Tommy’s nod was slow, his eyes searching yours as if detecting the truth you weren’t quite hiding.

“Where is he?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, and you almost wished you could take it back. You shouldn’t be concerned about where Joel was spending his nights. But curiosity itched at you, demanding answers.

Tommy hesitated, rubbing his hand over his mouth, glancing off as if debating whether to answer. The pause made you anxious, and you shifted under his gaze, feeling exposed. "He, um, he went to see—"

"Sienna," you finished, the name coming out like a blade you hadn’t prepared for. Tommy’s nod confirmed it, and you felt it cut a little deeper than you’d anticipated.

The thought of Joel being with her after being with you twisted something fierce and raw inside. Yet, a part of you was oddly grateful for the pain; it reminded you just how little he’d been affected by all of this, how seamlessly he’d returned to life as it had been. Why should he have changed anything for one night? That didn’t mean enough to make him reconsider Sienna, his plans, his life without you. It was unbearable and somehow clarifying.

With your voice steadier than you expected, you looked back at Tommy. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Come with me for a second." You spun on your heel, heading toward your house, and you heard Tommy’s footsteps fall into step behind you. Inside, you gestured for him to wait in the foyer, then climbed the stairs, your heart pounding. A rush of resentment, of something close to fury, washed over you. You had to rid yourself of everything that still held you back to him, everything he’d left behind.

When you came back down, you were carrying a box, simple and impersonal. Tommy glanced at it, lifting an eyebrow. "What’s that?"

"A couple of Joel’s things. Be a dear and save me the trip of bringing them back to him." You smiled tightly, the effort to stay composed nearly exhausting you.

Tommy laughed, clearly amused by the defiance in your expression.

"Yes, ma’am," he said with a grin, giving you a small salute as he took the box. You watched him step over the threshold, the box in his hands, feeling a strange mix of relief and something hollow.

"Thank you, Tommy," you said softly, closing the door as he left. Alone in the quiet of your house, your shoulders slumped, and all the strength you’d gathered felt like it was leaking away, leaving behind the ache of realization. Joel wasn’t just far from you; he was unreachable, a memory already fading, three weeks stretching like an eternity between you and the friend he’d once been.

*

Joel opened the door slowly, shoulders slumped, his gaze dropping to the floor before he even stepped inside. The house was dark and quiet, as if it were waiting for him to finally fill it. He glanced around the empty living room, feeling the stillness of the space, then checked the time on his wristwatch: 11 p.m. It felt later than that, somehow.

“Tommy?” he called, his voice breaking the silence as he moved into the kitchen, where he found his brother, casually leaning against the counter with a bowl of ice cream, looking like he’d been waiting all night.

“How was your night?” Tommy asked, raising an eyebrow, his tone almost amused, as if he were privy to some unspoken secret.

Joel exhaled, the kind of tired sigh that settled deep in his chest, and dropped heavily into one of the wooden chairs at the table. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, dragging it down over his mouth before resting it on the table, the weariness of the day palpable in the lines of his face. His eyes met Tommy’s probing gaze, and he tilted his head, frowning slightly.

“Fine,” he replied, his tone clipped and a little defensive. “How was Sarah?”

“She conked out right after dinner,” Tommy replied, a smirk beginning to play at the corners of his mouth, his eyes narrowing with that look of brotherly mischief. “And how was Sienna?”

Joel rolled his eyes, leaning back in the chair, shaking his head as if he could shake off the whole conversation.

“Are you staying over?” he asked after a few beats, redirecting, his voice carefully casual.

Tommy chuckled. “Only if you, sir, will permit me,” he replied with a mock salute.

“Fine,” Joel muttered, getting up from his seat. “Do what you want, but don’t be a pain in my ass,” he added, half-serious, half-amused, as he walked over to the counter beside his brother.

He pulled open the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. Tommy watched him, saying nothing, but his gaze lingered, curious, perceptive. Joel poured water into a glass, bringing it to his lips, pausing for a long drink before turning to face his brother. He could feel Tommy’s gaze boring into him, the silence thickening between them.

Joel looked up, his own gaze steady.

“What?” he asked, the word flat, all pretense of patience gone.

“Nothing,” Tommy said, drawing the word out, clearly testing the limits of Joel’s patience. Then, almost too casually, he tilted his chin toward a box resting by the wall across the kitchen.

Joel followed his gaze, his brow furrowing as he walked over. He lifted the box, feeling the weight of it in his hands, then set it down on the counter. With a cautious look at Tommy, he placed his hands on the lid, hesitating.

“What’s this?” he asked, a note of suspicion in his voice.

Tommy leaned back, watching him with a faint smile playing at the edges of his mouth.

“Your girl next door gave it to me,” he replied, each word almost too measured. “Said it was yours.”

For a few moments, Joel just stood there, as if frozen, processing Tommy’s words. He looked down, finally lifting the lid and peering inside. There, neatly folded, was his sweatshirt—the one he’d handed you one chilly evening when he picked you up from work. Beneath that was his old Pearl Jam t-shirt, the one you’d borrowed after a swim in his pool last summer. His favorite coffee mug sat tucked in the corner, along with a few CDs, a dog-eared paperback he’d loaned you weeks ago. Each item seemed to carry its own little echo of the time he’d spent with you.

After a few seconds, Joel placed the lid back on the box, sliding it away from him with a muted thud. He kept his expression steady, but his jaw was set, and his eyes remained fixed on the counter.

“When did she give it to you?” he asked, his voice strained but steady.

“A few moments ago,” Tommy said with a shrug, holding back a smirk as he noticed the tightness in Joel’s expression. “Saw her walking back from Dunn’s house, actually.”

Joel let out a dry, sardonic laugh, a smile twisted in disbelief. "Right. Of course."

"Actually," Tommy said, savoring another spoonful of ice cream, "he walked her to the door, all sweet-like. Gave her the whole mushy goodnight routine—kiss, movie shit." His gaze stayed fixed on the bowl, though Joel could see the glint of mischief there, Tommy barely holding back a grin.

Joel’s fingers drummed on the counter, his gaze hardening. “Good for her,” he muttered.

Tommy didn’t look up, just continued with his ice cream, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Sure she looked that way to me.”

“Like I care,” Joel muttered, his gaze fixed hard on the box beside him, fingers curling against the edge as if steadying himself. “I can bet everything I’ve got she doesn’t even like him that much. That guy isn’t worth it, and she knows it.” 

Tommy’s mouth quirked with amusement as he leaned back against the counter.

“Too bad that’s not up to you,” he said, casually pushing Joel’s buttons, almost like he enjoyed watching his brother’s patience fray. “She looked happy. And for what it’s worth, in her own words, she does like him.” 

Joel’s frown deepened, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Tommy, as if by sheer force he could undo his brother’s last statement. “Wait—you asked her? Tommy, you better not be going around—” 

“Relax,” Tommy cut in, hands raised in mock surrender, though there was still a hint of smugness in his expression. “We just had a small conversation, okay? Didn’t even mention you.” 

Joel let out a sharp, bitter laugh, though his face betrayed a flicker of something raw. His fingers tapped the box, restless and resentful, as if it were the box’s fault for bringing up everything he didn’t want to admit. Then, his voice low and clipped, he gestured to the countertop. “Clean this up when you’re done,” he said, his tone rough. “And don’t piss me off.” 

Without another word, Joel turned on his heel and headed for the stairs, each step heavy and quick, like he couldn’t get away fast enough. The tension in his back, the way his shoulders held too much weight, said enough. Who did Tommy think he was, coming in here with all that, telling him things he didn’t need to hear? He didn’t care about any of it. As far as he was concerned, you could date Travis, marry him if that’s what you wanted. None of it mattered to him. 

But as he climbed the stairs two at a time, his mind raced against his will. You’d been clear, hadn’t you? You didn’t want him in your life. No friendship, no connection, nothing. The words echoed, hollow and yet heavy. And as he reached the top of the stairs, he wondered how many more nights he’d have to wrestle with that idea, struggling to wrap his head around a life where you were nothing more than a memory he had to stop revisiting.

The sooner he accepted it, the easier it would be to see you with Travis, to manage the surge of irritation at the thought of his hands on you, to ignore the image of his arm slung casually around your shoulders. If he could accept it—if he did accept it—it would get easier, right? At least that’s what he told himself. He didn’t care. Obviously, he didn’t care.

He didn’t care that you’d decided to shut him out. Didn’t care that you were so resolute about it, that you barely seemed to miss him. He certainly didn’t care that he’d rearranged his mornings and evenings so he wouldn’t have to see you by accident. It wasn’t as if he still glanced at your door every time he came home, half-hoping he’d see you there, offering a smile and some easy excuse to stay. No, he wasn’t dwelling on how long it had been since he’d heard your voice or felt the comfortable warmth of your hand against his. Nearly a month now. And he was perfectly fine with it, honestly. It didn’t bother him one bit.

So fine, in fact, that he ended things with Sienna over dinner without a moment’s hesitation. Her face had gone blank with surprise, but he’d brushed it off, even throwing in some lie about being “too busy” to make it work, anything to avoid her prying questions. She’d looked at him, confused but oddly resigned, as if she’d sensed his mind had been elsewhere for a while. He didn't care, he was fine with it.

But later that night,Travis Dunn had brought you to your door—walked you up, murmured something as he leaned close, maybe kissed you goodnight. Joel didn’t know the details, but the image of it burned into his mind anyway. He sat in his room alone, a bitter laugh escaping his throat, mocking himself for how easily he’d let the thought take root. You, wrapped up with Dunn. Pf.

In the darkness of his bedroom, Joel sat on the edge of his bed, looking at the empty space beside him, the silence amplifying every unspoken word, every unfulfilled touch. He was fine with it. Of course he was. He repeated it in his mind, willing himself to believe it, even as a hollow ache throbbed in his chest.

And as if the universe were doubling down on the irony, that night he dreamed of you.

-

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @cosmic006533-blog @doblasftcisco @maiyart @concrete-jungleeee @playboygirlsnextdoor00 @maryfanson @rosebuds-and-moonlight @the-universe-is-complicated @formulafun @chewie-bars @glizzymcguirex @pedroswife69 @ivoryandflame @dixonswingz @sarahhxx03 @mellymbee @dailyobsession @msmorningstaarr @mystickittytaco @xxreginaxx @marellabyr @spacegirl-3 @alrihhty @heheheilovepedro @svrgs-blog @94namkooksworld @puddles221b @cowboymcflurry @medusaandposeidonshead @stylesispunk @sweatpeakarolinaa @puddles221b @deansimpalagirl @jasminedragoon @lover-of-books-and-tea @whimsiwitchy @cuteanimalmama @theherothesavior @ivoryandflame @auteurdelabre

[logicalpearl]

Hi, Mrs. Hughes...

quinn hughes x reader

synopsis: where y/n meets the family for the first time...in a slightly compromising position...

warnings: suggestive themes, allusions to sex, heavy makeouts

wc: 1.7k

*not my gif*

It wasn't y/n's first time staying the night at Quinn's apartment. In fact, it had become quite normal during their time together. Quinn and y/n had only been seeing each other for about 2 months. Quinn hadn't even told his family about you yet. He was enjoying the time with you all by himself. He knew the second he introduced you to his family that they would fall in love with you the same way he had.

Jack and Luke would be absolutely smitten with the prospect of having a sister soon. Jim would love to have his first daughter, and Ellen... well, Ellen would be over the moon to see her eldest so happy.

Quinn absolutely planned to introduce you to his family soon, but he wanted to soak up these moments before he was constantly bombarded by his family.

That is how he found himself this morning, you wrapped in his arms, soft snores coming from your mouth. He watched your chest rise and fall steadily, reaching his hand out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. Maybe it was creepy, but he loved to see you so peaceful. He traced a finger along your cheekbone and watched as your lashes fluttered and a small smile graced your lips.

"Good morning, handsome," you whispered to Quinn as you slowly opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. Quinn dipped his head down to place a chaste kiss on your lips before responding, "Good morning, angel. Did you sleep well?" Quinn already knew the answer to this, yet he still asked you every morning. You sat up against the headboard of his bed and interlaced your fingers with his, "I always sleep well in your arms, Quinny."

Quinn sat up as well, pulling your intertwined hands to his lips to kiss the back of your hand. "You flatter me, babe. I'm glad you slept well because I know I did." He leaned over again to give you a kiss. it was sweet and you could feel the love he poured into it. You felt his tongue sweep across your lower lip, a slight groan reverberating from his chest as you opened for him. Before it could get any further you pulled away, rubbing your thumb across his lips, "Handsome, as much as I love your kisses, my breath is absolutely gross and we need to get ready for today."

Quinn groaned and fell back against the pillows. Ah yes, today. The day of the infamous Hughes Bowl and the day you would be meeting his whole family. He hadn't even told them that you would be there. He wanted it to be a complete surprise.

He rolled out of bed, kissing the top of your head on the way by as he made his way to the bathroom for his morning shower. You slowly got out of bed, making it and putting all of the pillows back against the headboard. You walked into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and telling Quinn that you would be making breakfast for when he gets out of the shower.

You slipped on one of Quinn's hoodies and a pair of sleep shorts before walking out to the kitchen. You opened the fridge, eyeing the leftover pancake mix from the previous morning. Pulling out the mix along with some fresh fruit you began heating up a skillet and prepping the fruit. You heard the shower stop and knew Quinn would be out in just a few minutes for breakfast.

You were standing at the stove flipping pancakes when you felt two strong arms wrap around you from behind. Quinn peppered kisses along the side of your neck before humming, "Thanks for making breakfast, angel. Do you need any help?" You flipped the last pancake before shutting off the burner and turning to face Quinn, "All set, handsome. if you want you can pull out the orange juice from the fridge? Or you can brew some coffee, I didn't get that far yet."

Quinn released you from his hold and moved to grab the juice out of the fridge. You grabbed two plates out and dished out servings for you and Quinn, placing them on the counter and waiting for him.

You and Quinn stood in silence eating your breakfast, simply soaking up the silence. Both of you knowing that tonight would likely be a whirlwind and neither of you would be able to get away. After finishing your meals, you set the plates in the sink, getting ready to wash them. Before you could get very far you felt two strong hands grip your waist. In one quick motion, Quinn had spun you around, lifted you up, and set you on the countertop.

You let out a quiet gasp as Quinn stepped in between your legs. Your hands coming up to the nape of his neck and looking into his eyes. He looked at you like he was still hungry, like he wanted to devour you in this moment. You opened your mouth to say something but instead he grabbed the back of your neck and brought your lips to meet his. The only way you could describe this kiss was dirty. Quinn kissed you like it would be the last time. One of his hands curled around your waist to pull you closer until your legs were wrapping around his waist. Your hands moved from his neck to comb through his hair, lightly tugging until he was groaning into your mouth.

Quinn pulled away, trailing his lips down your neck as his hand slipped up your (his) hoodie. His lips detached from you for only a moment to pull the hoodie up and over your head, depositing it on the counter behind you. Left only in your tiny sleep shorts and a white cropped tank top that you slept in. Not wearing a bra, the cold air immediately made your nipples peak beneath our shirt. Quinn took notice of this and leaned down to mouth at your collarbone while his thumb came up to rub over your nipple. Your body arched into his as you felt the pleasure flow through you. You gasped as he lightly pinched your nipple, "Oh god! Quinn- I- it's so good. You're so good, handsome... Please!"

You could feel Quinn smiling against your neck as he relished in your whines, "Please what, angel? What do you need, use your words, honey." Now your hands were grabbing at the back of Quinn's shirt, your hips bucking forward, trying to seek some friction. Quinn gave you a little reprieve and brought his mouth back to yours while his fingers trailed to your inner thigh.

Both of you were so caught up in the moment that neither of you heard the front door open. You also didn't hear the sound of voices coming from the hallway, coming closer to you both.

"Quinn! Honey, we came to see yo- OH!"

Both you and Quinn pulled apart to see not only Mrs. Hughes, but the rest of the Hughes behind her as well. Ellen's eyes were wide as she watched you slide off the counter, hastily pulling the previously discarded hoodie over your head. Jack and Luke were standing there trying their best to hold in their laughter. Jim stood there just smiling softly.

You and Quinn both stood there with flushed cheeks before you finally spoke up, "Mr. and Mrs. Hughes it is great to finally meet you. Plus Jack and Luke! Quinn has told me so much about you all!"

You were trying your best not to burst into tears, having been caught by your boyfriend's family, who you hadn't even met yet, in such a compromising position was beyond embarrassing. Quinn was quick to jump in after the shock had worn off, "Mom, dad, this is y/n. My girlfriend of about 2 months. I was going to introduce you to her tonight at the game but clearly that did not go as planned..." Quinn trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before meeting his mom's eyes.

She seemed to break out of her trance when she made eye contact with Quinn, she cleared her throat before smiling and rounding the counter. She pulled you into a tight hug and then Quinn, kissing his cheek lightly. She stepped back from both of you,"y/n it is so great to meet you, dear. I can't believe Quinny here has been able to keep you a secret!" She shot Quinn a slight glare before addressing him, "Quinn, why on earth would you keep her from us?! We want to know you are happy, sweetheart. I can see you are from the way you look at her, but let your mother know!"

Quinn smiled at his mom sheepishly before shrugging. y/n let out a little giggle at that, looking over at Jack and Luke. Once she made eye contact with them they both burst out laughing. Jack nearly falling over as he cackled at his older brother. The rest of the men made their way over, giving y/n a hug and telling her how happy they were to meet her.

Quinn easily fell into conversation with his dad and younger brothers, while his mom turned to y/n, "Dear, we really are so excited to meet you! Please do not call me Mrs. Hughes, it makes me feel far too old. Call me Ellen, and we will definitely be texting Quinn before we try to show up again" Ellen let out a laugh, winking at y/n and wrapping her in another hug.

It was safe to say that the Hugheses absolutely loved y/n, even if the meeting was a tad unconventional. They stayed for another hour, talking with both Quinn and y/n about anything and everything before they left. Once they had walked out the door, y/n turned to Quinn, walking up to him and smiling. She then smacked him on the chest, "We are never doing anything in the kitchen ever again! That was so embarrassing!" She whined at him while he just tucked her into his chest and smiled.

At least she could say that meeting the family was done and over with...

note: my first time writing and posting it! let me know if you like it :)

[endereies]

THOUGHT YOU WERE MINE - CS

No Nut November - Day 5

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ When Chris was finally ready for a relationship with you, it was too late

Your situation with Chris was complicated to say the least. You had been running around with his for the past few months, sneaking off during parties and events. You loved the risk between getting caught with someone who was only meant to be your best friend. But it never stayed that way.

At first you sought out Chris’ attention in the midst of a drunken decision, yet as time went on, you found yourself seeking his frame in the crowd as soon as you arrived. It was stupid, you were aware of that. Chris never did commitment, that he made clear. Countless conversations spiralled around the idea if you two and what you both wanted.

You had thought you could escape the pain of falling for someone you couldn’t have. As soon as your heart clenched when he complimented you, you knew it was over. That feeling only grew and even if in the moment you felt like the only girl he’d ever look at, it was a lie. It didn’t help that when you snuck off with him, it wasn’t always for sex. Occasionally you’d find his hand tangled in yours while the concrete steps lay below you. Sounds of the party called the pair of you back. You always ignored it.

He'd steal the odd kiss from you, in front of people and never batted an eye. The two of you would be dragged into the stage by the other to your favourite songs and you never care how you looked when you were with him.

Those moments made him question how he felt about you, seeing your vibrant smile as you danced with your friends. Or the way you’d laugh without a care in the world. Little did you know he was falling too. He hated it.

Chris was open about his commitment issues to you. He wasn’t someone who was immediately happy getting into a relationship, the whole idea intimidated him. Having a label felt too immediate for him, and after being hurt in a previous relationship it was easy to see why. The fact he was falling for you was already enough to throw him off course, he just couldn’t turn away.

The way you both felt wasn’t subtle. Your friends always giggled when they noticed the smudged makeup that was lining your lips. No matter how many times you v denied the accusations of you two dating, the butterflies in your stomach became obvious.

That was until you confronted Chris about everything.

“Hey Chris...? Vulnerability filled you as soon as the words left your mouth. Quick glances around the room failed to aid you in finding anything else to converse about. His hand stilled from your hip, the touch burning your skin. “Mm? What’s up?”

You hadn’t even said anything to him, and you already felt sick in your stomach. Is this how every confession goes? “Can we talk…about us?”

“What about us Y/n?” You could tell he was getting concerned, yet not out of fear, but the fact he’d have to repeat himself again.

“I don’t want this anymore…like, I don’t know. I guess I don’t want to act like this is all casual anymore.” His touch on your hip no longer burned as it withdrew completely.

“I’ve told you, I’m not into that shit Y/n. We agreed on that, you knew. I’m not meant to be in a relationship, especially with you. That shit would hurt the both of us. We talked about this, end of.”

Tears brimmed at your eyes, and you felt so childish. He was right. You had discussed this more than once, the rules were clear. Weren’t rules meant to be broken. You couldn’t believe that you could be so stupid, the false hope from your friends fed into things that shouldn’t have been touched.

“Right…Well maybe I should go.” He didn’t protest, or even acknowledge you leave. Asking you to stay felt like too much to him, even if every cell argued with him.

The door shutting felt too real. You had actually left, this wasn’t a prank? Chris’s gaze was held on the door, praying you’d push it open and walk back through. You never did.

You quietly left through the front door and walked away from the porch, both your hands in your pockets. You were thankful for the dark sky, that way no one could see your tears. It was too quick, to reactive. It felt scripted hearing those words from him. ‘I’m not meant to be in a relationship, especially with you’

With you…

Maybe if you were someone else, he’d be more willing to hold your hand and call you his. He would always step in and call you ‘his girl’ when any other guy got a little to close to him. For once you wished it wasn’t a ploy. Chris never played you, never treated you badly, never gave you a reason to walk away. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much, he was too perfect.

Steady weeks went by with no contact from you. You never came over to his place anymore, invitations to parties remained unread. He didn’t care, he shouldn’t. What was this weird feeling in his chest.

It hurt seeing you so close and yet so far. Your contact was there, staring him in the face. Your face beaming in the profile picture wasn’t helping him. Chris felt out of place now. Without you by his side he had no one to kiss, no one to hold. He had no one to rant about his day to, no one to console when things got bad. His friends weren’t the same, he needed you. As much as he hated to admit it, all his thoughts revolved around you more than ever. Whenever he used to think about you, his heart clenched with resolute admiration towards you, now it felt sour. It was like a deep breathe wasn’t deep enough, distractions weren’t fulfilling enough.

He hated the feeling of falling for you, but the feeling of losing you was a nauseating sensation he wanted to scratch off his skin.

Not even alcohol could wipe the stain of you, nothing was working. He waited too long and fell comfortable to the casualness of your relationship. He was willing, willing to work through any fears if it meant getting you back.

Before he knew it, his front door was locked, and footsteps disappeared into the night. Stars began to light the sky above him. He found himself wondering if you were looking at them too, like you used to. The walk was only 15 minutes away but each second felt too long. he had waited too long. Now he hurt someone he cared about for his own selfishness.

When Chris turned the corner, his body stilled, and his stomach dropped to his feet. An unfamiliar car was parked outside your house, tilted against the concrete. Your hand placed gently into another’s as they pulled you from the car. You inched closer towards them, yet Chris remained frozen. He couldn’t tear his eyes away. Who was he, why was he here, with you.

The voices were too meek for Chris to make out, yet the message was clear. It was evident when the distance between you two close, his lips softly touching yours.

Only then could Chris turn his eyes away, he felt betrayed without reason. Chris wasn’t ready and when he finally was, he pushed you away enough to move on.

Yet, he loved you first.

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[suiana]

(yandere! bully victim x gn! bully reader) (cw: erm... yandere stuff, body horror or whatever its called idk bruh, he kinda carves his name into ur skin but its not mentioned in detail)

"how does it feel to be on the receiving end now, huh?"

you shiver, letting out a strained sound as you trash on the table.

"pluh- mn!"

"what was that? you've got to be clearer with your words, my dear. how do you expect me to understand muffles?"

the male hums, his cold hands dancing across your body. you could only shiver yet again, unable to do anything but remain binded to the table.

"oh, sorry, i forgot you couldn't speak. haha, how silly of me."

yeah, how silly of him to completely gag you so you couldn't speak. how completely silly of him to tie you to some cold table, restraining all your movements so that you couldn't fight back against him. how absolutely whimsical for him to be recording all your grunts, groans, and whines while you were completely restrained.

well, you suppose it's a bit ironic. considering that you were the one doing it to him when the both of you were younger. albeit not on this level.

you wonder if this was how he felt. vulnerable, naked, defenseless.

it happened so long ago, but the wounds you inflicted on him were still fresh. no matter how hard you try apologizing, his scars still bleed warm.

you shouldn't have been mean to him. you really shouldn't. especially when he was so much nicer back then.

"mn... you have no idea how much I've wanted to do this. it really makes me happy to see you so..."

he pauses, eyes raking over your form that was tied down to his table.

"so weak."

we've all watched the movies where the bully gets put in place and completely punished. you used to laugh at those films. i mean, how could the bully even be so stupid to get karma for their actions? couldn't they have hid better? tried making up for it? why did they have to go through the consequences of their actions? what idiots!

but now that it's happening to you, you wish you hadn't said those words.

the second you found out that your ex-victim was your boss, you couldn't even as much as utter a word. no, you felt like you were about to have a mental breakdown. especially because you were now his secretary, working for him.

"come on, what happened to that big, scary, and mean ol' bully that i knew? the one that used to pour water over my head and have their friends restrain me?"

his words have a hunt of condescension- no, they were fully condescending. he was mocking you right now. mocking you for your stupidity, mocking you for your actions. and he was absolutely taking pleasure in seeing you in such a weak and reduced state. a shell of the person you once were.

you couldn't do anything but to take it like the loser you were.

"haha, look at you. all tied down and gagged like the dog you are. why don't you bark for me? maybe I'll be nicer if you act like a stupid bitch in heat."

he laughs, hands resting on your clothed abdomen. his hair falls over his eyes, the usual up kept man looking like a mess as he continues to taunt you.

"you know, when i confessed to liking you, i never expected you to bully me. seriously. i thought you'd be like, I don't know, nice about it. if you were nice I don't think I'd have stalked you and do all this. would've courted you normally until you accepted. I'm a patient guy after all."

the words that come out of his mouth have just the tiniest bit of sadness in them. however, it's completely squashed down by the sharp look in his eyes.

"had i known you'd be such an ass about it... I'd have just taken you for myself right there and then. who cares about having a normal relationship, right? as long as you're with me, it's all that matters."

right, like what he was doing right now. ever since you started working for him he's been constantly... acting like he was your boyfriend rather than your boss. constantly giving you gifts, telling you that it was okay that you bullied him because he knows you're just shy and that he'll make things right... the worst part was when he forbid you from interacting with others.

it was fucking creepy.

things were only worsened when he found you on a night out at a bar, flirting with some random stranger. you had wanted to let loose and relieve some stress but it looks like karma loved to see you suffer.

"what are you doing? are you cheating on me?"

what the fuck?! you stare at your boss in horror, freezing in place. quickly turning back to the stranger you were flirting with, you shake your head and apologize, explaining that your boss was just a little weird. why the hell is he even here?!

"look, I'm sorry but he's a bit of a creep and-"

"my darling, i think it's time we go back home. you've had one too many drinks."

that experience was only the start of an even worser time. one that led him to declare to the whole damn world that you were now his in a fit of anger and mania. i mean, he practically has you locked in his house now. and it wasn't even illegal since you agreed to come.

he had called you to sort out some paperwork or whatever and you being his secretary... you couldn't refuse even if you wanted to. so you made your way to his house, all naive and ignorant of what was to come the second he opened those doors to that luxurious mansion of his.

you passed out and the next thing you knew, you were restrained to the table, gagged and staring at him with a half lidded look in your eyes.

god damn it, you should've known better than to believe this crazy guy's words. why would you willingly go to his place where there'd be no one but you two? ugh, stupid, stupid, stupid.

and now you could only express how terrified you were with your eyes and shivering body.

"how cute. how seriously cute. I've always wanted to see you look at me with that expression."

he coos, lips stretched into a smirk as he leans down to your face. his breath hits your skin, cold hands trailing up your chest and to your jaw before he grips hard.

"you're mine. it wasn't clear when i was just a boy but you've always been mine. since the day i let you bullied me, and even right now, I've made it clear. you're mine, and always will be mine."

he's right, you've always been his. why else would this rich and obviously powerful guy just let you bully him? he could've had you gone the second you made a move on him but instead...

"i still remember the slaps and bruises you left on me. ah... you were so cute back then. hitting me like that. should've scarred me too, maybe then I'd see your horrified face whenever i flashed it."

a sadist. you're sure that he's some sort of sadistic masochist.

"oh well, it's no matter. I've done that job for you."

he pulls away, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his bare upper body to you. to say that you were completely terrified would be an understatement. because why the hell was your first name (and his last name btw) painfully carved into his other flawless skin? right above his heart, no less!

"isn't it beautiful? you're forever with me now."

his words send a chill down your body. what the hell, you don't want to be with him at all! and it looks like he sensed that but chose to ignore your feelings.

your boss smiles at you before pulling out a small blade from his pants.

oh hell nah.

"it's your turn, darling."

no no no, you don't like where this is going. your body trashes violently against the cold hard table he had you strapped in, pupils blown wide as adrenaline fills your veins.

"mgh! mf!"

"hey hey, quiet down. it's only fair that i get to do it to you, right? consider this my payback. you had your fun and now I'm having mine."

no! shit shit shit, what are you supposed to do?!

you try shaking your head, sweat forming on your skin as your breath grows laboured. your body continues to trash against the bindings, but it looks like the bindings were done just a little too well.

"hm... should i do it somewhere visible? or maybe... right where your heart would be?"

you shake violently, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"nh! mh!"

"aw, is my little darling about to cry? that's so cute. go on, cry for me. cry for me just like i cried for you."

tears fall down your cheeks as he trails the vlade over your clothes. the sharpness of the item has you shivering, cold dread creeping up your spine at the very thought of that anywhere on your skin.

"hm... since you look so scared, I'll carve my initials instead of my full name. how about that? a good offer if i say so myself."

if you could speak, you'd be cursing and begging him to stop. unfortunately that wasn't the case and your boss took your lack of words as the green light.

"don't worry, I'll kiss your pain away afterwards. it'll be over before you know it."

oh god damn it, you really should've just politely rejected him when he confessed.

[redocity]

hello, i was wondering if you could do a smut about buck?

Maybe have it where reader has been feeling really insecure lately and buck is like “i’ll fuck you until i hear that you believe it yourself” like he wants her to know that he thinks she beautiful and he wants her to see it

if you can’t that’s totally fine ❤️

PUZZLE PIECES — E.BUCKLEY

you are buck’s person, and he’ll be damned if you doubt that for even a second.

evan buckley x fem!reader | 2.9k | smut | masterlist.

WARNINGS | 18+ MDNI, reader is insecure about herself and her relationship with buck, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected piv, a lot of whining and general begging, creampie, couch sex

a/n — “i’ll put this in my drafts and upload it after work” she said, *proceeds to forget it exists for four days*

sorry about the wait 😭

The thought had crept in slowly, quiet at first, but lately, it seemed to be everywhere. You would be sitting on the couch, watching Buck’s profile as he talked about his day with that familiar smile and bright eyes, and it would be there, the nagging voice that whispered, He deserves better.

At first, you brushed it off, but each time he did something thoughtful or made you laugh, the voice grew a little louder.

Buck was… everything.

He was kind and funny, dependable and brave, always there for anyone who needed him. And in your quieter moments, you’d find yourself questioning whether you could really be what he needed.

What did you have to offer someone like him?

He seemed to pick up on your change in mood quickly. A few times, you’d caught him watching you, brow furrowed, as though he could see right through you. You’d just smile, trying to reassure him that everything was fine, but he knew better.

Buck was perceptive in a way that sometimes made you feel as though he could see things about you that even you didn’t know.

One evening, as you were lost in thought, he suddenly plopped down beside you on the couch, sliding in close. “Alright, talk to me,” he said, his voice gentle but firm.

You blinked, startled. “About what?”

His hand found yours, fingers warm and steady as he held onto you. “About what’s got you looking like that,” he replied, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your skin. “You’ve been so quiet lately. And it’s not like you. Something’s wrong.”

You swallowed, your gaze falling to your lap as you tried to find the words. “It’s… nothing, really.”

“Nothing?” he asked softly, still watching you, but you could hear the worry in his voice. “Babe, come on. We both know that’s not true.”

The truth tumbled out in bits and pieces, a little awkward and halting. You told him about the doubts that had been haunting you, how you’d started feeling like maybe he’d be better off with someone else. Someone who could give him more, be more. You didn’t even dare look at him while you spoke, afraid of what you might see on his face.

There was a long silence after you finished, and your heart pounded with nerves. You expected him to try to reassure you, to brush it off or tell you not to worry. But when he finally spoke, his voice was calm, filled with an unshakeable certainty.

“I mean this with all the love in the world,” he started, and when you glanced up, he was gazing at you with a look so fierce it almost took your breath away. “Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?”

The incredulity in his voice caught you off guard. “Buck…”

“Hey.” He cupped your face, tilting it up so you couldn’t look anywhere but into those intense, unwavering blue eyes. “There’s no one on this earth who’s better for me than you. No one.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, slow and deliberate. “I’m not letting you go that easily.”

You felt your throat tighten, and he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Don’t you know by now? I was made for you.” His voice trailed off with a kiss against your lips, soft and gentle, as though he were trying to convey what words couldn’t. “Every part of me belongs to you.”

And he wasn’t done, it seemed. He took your hands, held them to his chest as he pressed little kisses on each of your fingers, down to your palms, his lips gentle and warm against your skin. “Do you feel that?” he murmured, his hand covering yours over his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath your fingers. “That’s yours. Always has been.”

His touch drifted from your hands up to your face as he kissed you again, brushing his lips across your forehead, your cheeks, even the bridge of your nose. Each kiss felt like a promise, a wordless way of saying everything you hadn’t been able to believe.

You tried to speak, but he stopped you with a gentle shush, moving his kisses down the column of your neck to your shoulder, as if every inch of you was something sacred that he wanted to worship.

“I’m not stopping until you believe me,” he murmured against your skin, his hands steady and sure as he wrapped them around you. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you. Always.”

“I’m a mess,” you murmured as his lips worked to create a path of fire down your collarbone and along the swell of your breast, teasing the hemline of your v-neck with his lips. “I’m—”

“Perfect,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire as his mouth found the valley between your breasts and the sensitive skin of your chest. “You’re perfect for me.”

You shivered under his touch and a gasp broke free from your lips as he moved back up to your mouth, capturing it in another kiss.

He pulled away for a moment to look you in the eye, his breathing as ragged as yours, his gaze full of pure, honest desire. “You’re it for me,” he said, his voice a low, husky rumble. “There’s no one else I want. Just you. Only you.”

You opened your mouth to protest again, but he pressed his thumb to your lips, cutting off your words. “Don’t fight me on this,” he murmured. “Let me show you how perfect you are for me.”

With that, he crashed his lips to yours again, his tongue delving into your mouth as he encouraged you back against the couch. His hands were everywhere, his touch gentle yet urgent as he pushed your shirt up, his palms hot against your bare skin.

You arched into him, your body desperate for his touch, your hands seeking purchase on his arms.

He broke the kiss just long enough to pull the shirt over your head, his hands immediately returning to explore your newly exposed skin. “Beautiful,” he murmured, his lips trailing kisses down the valley between your breasts and along your stomach. “Absolutely beautiful.”

You shivered under his touch, your breath catching in your throat, every nerve in your body on fire. “Buck…” you gasped, the word more of a plea than anything else. “Please… I need…”

Buck’s eyes darkened slight with desire, his fingers hooking into the waist of your sweatpants and pulling them and your underwear down in one swift motion, baring you to him completely. “I know what you need,” he murmured, his mouth trailing kisses down your hip and inner thigh. “I’m going to give you everything you need, baby. Just trust me.”

He moved between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider for him. A thrill of anticipation shot through you as his breath ghosted over your core, his lips following the path his breath had taken. “Beautiful,” he repeated, his voice a low, reverential murmur against your skin. "Absolutely perfect for me,”

He ran his tongue tentatively along the length of your slit, drawing a shudder from you, his hands gripping your thighs tight as he teased you, taking his time to lavish attention on every inch of you. You arched against him, your hips rolling, seeking more of his touch. “Please,” you gasped, your hands tangling in his hair, trying to pull him closer. "Please, Buck…”

Buck’s grip on your thighs tightened at your words, a low grumble rumbling in his throat. “Not yet, baby,” he said, his breath hot against your core. “I’m not done showing you how perfect you are.” He gave your hip a gentle squeeze. "Relax. Let me show you.”

With that, he licked a long, slow stripe up through your folds, his tongue flicking against your clit briefly before moving back down, drawing another shudder from you. He repeated the motion, over and over, his tongue working with purpose to show you how deeply he was lost in you, in the feel of you, the taste of you.

Every touch of his tongue was a jolt of pleasure, your nails digging into his scalp as you arched against him, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. “Buck—” you gasped, your thighs quivering under his grip. “Please, I can’t—”

Buck pulled away, his chin glistening with your arousal as he looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. “You can,” he said, his voice a low, raspy rumble. “You will. Just a little longer, baby.” He teased a finger into your entrance, and your breath caught in your throat again. “I just need to make sure you’re ready for me.”

He moved back up your body, his lips finding yours again in a bruising kiss, his body pressing you down into the couch. You could feel the hard length of him, still trapped in his jeans, and you rocked against him, desperate for more. “Buck, please,” you gasped. “I need you, please…”

“Soon, baby,” he murmured against your lips, his hips rocking against yours, just enough to make you gasp again. “Soon. I promise.”

He reached between your bodies, undoing the button on his jeans and pushing them down his hips just enough to free himself, the hot length of him resting against your thigh as he kissed you again. “You’re so perfect,” he whispered, his voice a low, reverential murmur. “So perfect for me.”

His hands gripped your hips, angling them up to meet him, and he began to press into you, slowly, inch by inch.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the sensations, the stretch of him filling you, the heat of him surrounding you, the pleasure of the friction as he moved inside of you.

“Perfect,” he murmured again, his lips against your ear. “So goddamn perfect, god I was made to be with you like this,”

He began to move after a few stationary moments, his hips rocking against yours in a steady, measured rhythm, your bodies moving together in a desperate dance, the pleasure building with every movement. “You feel that, baby?” he gasped, his voice rough with desire. “You feel how well you moulded to fit me?”

You nodded mutely, your voice lost in a gasp as the pleasure built within you, coiling tighter and tighter with every stroke, every touch of his hands, every movement of his body.

“That’s how I know you were made for me,” he continued, his voice ragged with desire. “Your body fits with mine, like two pieces of a puzzle. You’re mine, baby, don’t ever forget that. You were made for me, and I’m never letting you go.”

His pace picked up, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, his breathing ragged with desire. “Don’t ever think you’re not perfect,” he whispered, his lips against your ear. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner, baby. And I’ll keep going until you say you believe me—”

His body was pressed against yours, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close, as if he couldn't bear to be apart from you for even a moment. You could feel every muscle of his body taut with tension, every line of him pressed against you.

“Don’t ever doubt how much I want you,” he panted, his voice strained with pleasure. “I’ll show you over and over again until you believe me, oh god, baby, I’m never going to stop needing you like this. Never.”

His thrusts were increasingly ragged, his rhythm faltering as his climax tried to sneak up on him, only for him to force it down so he could focus on you.

“Say you believe me, baby,” he gasped, his voice a pleading murmur against your skin. “Say you’ll never doubt what you mean to me, because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted— everything— and I can’t live without you, baby, I can’t—”

“I believe you,” you gasped, your own climax building within you, teetering on the edge of release. “I believe you, I do, Buck, I believe you—”

“Say you won’t ever doubt yourself again,” he pleaded, his voice hoarse with desire. “Say you’ll believe me when I tell you how perfect you are, because you are perfect, baby, and I will fuck you like this every day if that’s what it takes to make you believe it—”

“I won’t,” you gasped, your words punctuated by a gasp as your eyes squeezed shut from the stimulation. “I won’t doubt myself, I promise, but please, Buck, I need–”

“I know what you need, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “And I’m going to give it to you. Over and over and over again, until you’re so full of me, and so sated that you’ll never doubt us again.”

His thrusts became more urgent, more desperate, his body shaking with the effort of holding back his own climax, as he sought to bring you to the edge, to push you over and bring you to the release you needed.

“Come for me, baby,” he pleaded, his voice ragged with desire. "I need to feel you come apart beneath me, I need it, baby, come on—”

You cried out at his words, your body shuddering with pleasure at the combination of his touch and his words, the pleasure within you cresting and crashing over you in a wave of ecstasy. Your body arched against him, your hands clinging to him as if your life depended on it, your breaths coming out in gasps.

Buck groaned as he felt you come apart beneath him, the feeling of you clenching around him drawing a guttural moan from him. “Oh god, baby,” he gasped, his voice hoarse with pleasure. “That’s it, oh god, baby, I’m right there, I’m right there—”

His pace quickly picked up, his thrusts ragged and desperate, his body tense with the need to join you. “I’m gonna fill you up, baby,” he gasped, his voice thick with need. “Gonna make you mine, gonna make sure you know you’re mine forever—”

His thrusts became erratic, his breath coming out in gasps as he rode the edge of his orgasm. “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna come inside you, okay?”

“Yes,” you gasped, you hands desperately clinging to him, “yes, please, I need it, I need you—”

With a final, ragged gasp, he came hard, his body shuddering as his orgasm coursed through his torso and down his legs, spilling his release into you, white and hot and possessive in a way his words would never be.

He collapsed against you, his body trembling, his breathing ragged. “God, baby,” he panted, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea, actually,” you murmured, your own breathing still slightly ragged. You reached up to run a hand through his sweaty hair, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your climax. “You’re damn convincing, Buckley.”

He chuckled at your comment, his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight against him. "I meant every word, baby," he murmured, his lips drifting up the column of your neck to your ear. "You're perfect for me, and I'll keep proving it to you until you believe it yourself.”

You hummed contentedly at his words, your body relaxing against him, boneless and sated. You could feel the warm, sticky aftermath of his release between your legs, and you tightened your thighs together involuntarily at the sensation. “I think I believe you,” you murmured, your fingers tracing small circles along his back.

He chuckled again at your words, his hands roaming your body, tracing a lazy path along your curves. "You're damn right you believe me," he said, his voice still rough with emotion. "And if you ever forget it, I'll just have to remind you again. Over and over and over...”

He rolled the two of you over, pulling you close against his chest and wrapping you in his embrace. "But for now," he said, his voice softer now, "I just want to hold you. Just feel you in my arms, baby.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand rubbing a slow, soothing circle on your back. "I love you, you know that?" he murmured, his voice gentle and full of tenderness. "I love you more than anything in this world, and I'm never letting you go.”

You smiled at his words, snuggling closer against his chest, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his skin. "I love you too, Buck," you whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion. "More than anything.”

[crimsoncandy04]

Wrote this while on drugs again. I wasn't going to share it and actually just found it in my practice folder this morning but I decided that it kinda ate a little.

So here's breakfast my gorgeous readers!

(Scaramouche x Reader doing a little boob stuff)

You've been experiencing some unwelcomed side effects of a medicine you were given and were just checking how your boobs felt as you turned in the mirror and tried to think about if they were indeed as swollen as you thought they were. You held them up and peered at your bare assets with a look of concern in your eyes. Maybe not leaking anymore, but definitely swollen and a little bigger than you were used to.

You definitely needed to tell your doctor.

Just then you feel cold and soft hands suddenly reach under your arms. You don't have time to react as you see your boss cup both of your tits and begin to play with them a little. Gently bouncing them a little as he whispers in your ear.

"You know I've always wondered how these things felt. They're so much bigger than I expected." Scaramouche pinched your sensitive nipples then. Pulling on the delicate buds just enough to get you to gasp and blush a little as you had no choice but to let him fondle you.

You were his subordinate still after all...

"My Lord... this hurts. I'm sensitive right now..!" You plead pitifully. Your soft voice barely above a whisper as you fear his wrath.

He doesn't stop. Instead you feel the tip of his fingers begin to play with the little slit in the centers as he rubs them tenderly and earns a little moan from your lips.

He chuckles at this and leans his head against your shoulder as he presses his body against yours from the back.

"If that's so, then it'll just make this feel even better. Now shut up and relax already. " He snapped as he leaned forward a little bit and pulled on one of your breasts to bring it closer as his mouth. His lips found the small peak and immediately he began to suckle your hardened nipple softly. Humming softly as his tongue teased the opening again and you began to whimper at the sensation.

His long slender fingers continued to pull and pinch the other as you suddenly felt him accidentally stimulate your milk ducts.

You felt like you were going to die from embarrassment on the spot.

Why oh why did those stupid pills make you lactate like this?

Why now of all days did Scaramouche decide it was okay to touch you like this?

While you still had your... issue?

"I'm sorry sir!" Your voice quivered.

"It's my medicine! I'm not pregnant but this is happening because of a hormone imbalance. I'm so sorry!"

You felt him deliver a painful suck to your left nipple at your words before he briefly pulled away to tell you to shut up again. Then right back he went.

Scaramouche had moved you both to a new position after that.

Now you lay on your back across a small sofa as he laid on top of you. His face almost peaceful looking for once as he squeezed one of your breasts and kept the other in his mouth.

He was drinking from you.

Actually drinking your milk!

You couldn't believe it.

Every now and then he'd give your sore nipple a break and alternate between them as he grinded his hips in between yours. You wondered if he planned to do this for the rest of the night. He seemed to be enjoying it at least.

You were right.

Scaramouche had nearly sucked you dry before he gave you permission to leave sometime after dawn arrived.

But that wasn't the end.

Every few days he'd summon for you again and the process was repeated.

You'd undress and expose your painfully swollen tits to the harbinger and he'd play with them a bit before using you to breastfeed himself for so long...

You remember him telling you that you would be doing this from now on too.

Your pussy had gotten so wet as you recalled it.

"I've informed your doctor that your medication is to be increased. I've found a new use for those massive things on your chest and you will meet me in my office every two days from now on. Understood?"

"I understand My Lord."

"Good. You know, for a mortal woman, you do have a fairly decent body."

He leaned closer to you as he grasped one of your tits..

"These breasts especially. So...soft...so...warm."

And then he ripped open your shirt right then and there to feast a little more.

You don't know why he enjoyed this so much but it wasn't your place to ask or even refuse. It was either exist as his personal milk dispenser or be killed.

And you wanted to live frankly.

So you played into it more and tried to enjoy yourself at the very least.

You had gotten brave one day and asked him for what you desperately wanted.

"My Lord I know it sounds greedy... but today while we do our usual activities... could you maybe... give me a little attention... elsewhere?" You knew you were blushing deeply as you had asked him. He said nothing as he strode over to you. Moving quickly as he slammed you against the wall behind you both. His hand reaching out to rub against your clothed slit.

"I was wondering when you'd ask. You think I'm seriously that stupid to have not noticed how disgustingly wet you get when I touch these sensitive tits of yours? It's almost unsightly. But don't worry, I'll help you out a little. Who knows, maybe this will improve your production. I've heard that certain kinds of external stimulation can cause women to lactate more."

Scaramouche leaned down and bit your nipple through your shirt as he suddenly slid two fingers deep into your soaking cunny and began to fuck you. His thumb circling your clit as he licked at your clothed mounds. His other hand instantly going to grope your other boob as his fingers curled inside you and made your knees tremble.

"Please this is too much! I'm going to... I'm going to cum! Please I'm going to cum!" You cry as you moan and feel your knees try to squeeze together instinctively.

Scaramouche bit a little too hard then. A silent command to keep your legs open as he continued to bring you to climax.

You felt milk seep from your nipples as you came harder than you had in a long time. Scaramouche eagerly drinks the excess liquid as he continues to finger fuck you through your orgasm.

A small smirk on his face as he suddenly moves to give you a shockingly passionate kiss. His tongue in your mouth. You taste your milk and silently marvel at just how pleasant it tastes.

"I've decided. I like you. I think I'll keep you around and use you more from now on." Scaramouche muttered under his breath as he pulled his hand out of you and instead began to pull down your panties.

"Y/N, how do you feel about me breeding you? I think your milk will taste so much better if you have a brat inside you. What do you think?"

You felt your pussy aching in response.

[javelinbk]

This ‘quote’ from Yoko is certainly something

"It's a pity, really. I like Paul! I think of him as a friend. John is the one who doesn't like Paul. Paul was always the cute one and John was jealous of that. When I first met Paul I was attracted to him. I'm like that when I really like someone. I try to get close to the guy who's close to the guy I like. That's why I was getting close to John, so I would be near Paul if he wanted to make a move. And Paul was attracted to me, I could see that. But he couldn't handle the idea of being attracted to somebody John was with because that would be a violation of the fraternity rules. I was someone else's property; that's how men think, you know. So then Paul was very frustrated because he wanted me and felt that he couldn't have me. That's why he always acted so mean to me. Men always think like that, you know. If they can't have a woman they want to punish her. But I think that he was always a little interested because of the way he looked at me. Even when he used to come here with Linda, he was always looking at me funny when he knew Linda and John couldn't see him doing it. There were other things too, like he got married because John and I did."

"I thought that he got married to Linda before you married John."

"Well he did, but he knew that John and I were planning to, so right away he married Linda so he would get the headlines first. He's like John that way, very competitive. I think that if it wasn't for me, he never would have married Linda at all. She was just a groupie, you know. I don't think they ever would have married if it wasn't for the competitive pressure between John and Paul and Paul's frustration about me. He just married her to prove that I didn't mean anything to him. I think he does still feel something about me though. Do you want to read on that and see how he's feeling about me?"

I did and it didn't look like love. Disdain, maybe, contempt certainly, but definitely not love.

"He seems to have gotten over his infatuation with you."

"Are you sure? That's very funny. Well, he hasn't seen me in such a long time, so maybe that's it… I don't know why men think that I'm so attractive. But they all seem to. I can tell from the way they look at me—Do you think if Paul were to see me that he would be attracted again? I still like him, you know."

Excerpt from ‘Dakota Days’ by John Green

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

Secret Box

Sorry no fancy formatting or anything here. I got sudden inspired to write this from an anon @moodymisty got Tagging @kit-williams because I know Mr. Turbo is her man Warnings: Hints of NSFW stuff at the very end. Sorry if Turbo sounds ooc I haven't written him at all before so be kind. Also, did not proofread this. MINOR DNI

"Oh I don't know, I would be unhappy too if all I had to was tear things down and war. Maybe he wants to something else?"

"What do you mean? He seems quite happy breaking things."

He watched you frown so deeply, "My little bother was like that, everyone thought he like being mad. Just did not know how to convey his feelings, and felt like he had to stay under father's thumb. But he really just wanted to be an artist. I loved his art!"

"I didn't know you had a brother, where is he?"

"Dead. Died angry and lonely because father wanted a soldier."

His furious hearts stopped in his chest. You saw him. You did not realize it, but you did. It scared him, mad him want to rage and break you. It made him want to keep you close. Show you those things he wanted to forget.

***

"What in the Emperor's name is that?"

"Oh one of those puzzle boxes, some call them secret boxes because once you open them you can keep little important secrets in them!" your smile makes his head spin and his stomach lurch.

He wanted you to smile at him like that more. He needed you to talk to him about the silly little boxes.

"Why do you have so many? They seem pointless, we do not have anything to keep in them."

"Oh, I am far too stupid to open them, but I find them beautiful, each one looks different, opens differently, and all so complex, like people!"

***

Weeks he slaved over his workbench, keeping this secret to all, which was made easy when got the small chance to engage with you. Or most commonly, watch you interact with others, needed to make sure you didn't give his secrets away; at least he tried to convince himself of that.

You thought yourself stupid, but you figured him out in a way not even the damn Emperor himself could. What looked so simple was perhaps the most complex of all.

You wanted to see the art he could create that wasn't for war, how his mind could do if allowed to run free. Called his work art, like it was something to also marvel at.

The primarch looked over his newest creation, the small box was intricate in it's design, how he liked things. But it was what was inside that made his chest feel weak, and yet made him powerful all the same. The primarch of iron was feeling himself soften at the heat that had made a permanent home in his lower abdomen.

When he presented the box to you he did not say he made it, refused to. But as he explained his lie, the look you cast at him shocked him. You knew his bluff. Of course you did.

"Well, whoever made this is a true master! I have never seen something to beautiful before, thank you my lord," you smile up at him, letting him keep his pride and secret, "I know you are a busy man, but should you remember who made this could you be so kind to your serf and tell me?"

Prutabo grunted and nodded, "If I feel so inclined. Let me know if and when you open it."

***

Days and weeks pass and you keep him updated with your progress, he makes comments that hint he isn't too interested, after all someone of his genius would have opened it already. You agree, but you won't give up. You determination makes his hearts feel like they are in knots. How happy and joyful you are over his little toy. The fun you find in testing yourself only just to say you did it. The moments of you updating him live inside his dreams, where he is brave enough to hold your hand and smile back.

The crusade had called him away and like always it kept him longer than anyone else. While his brothers got to reap all the glory he was cleanup, or the brunt hammer to break wills. So of course when the Lord of Iron returned everyone scattered. Hid like cowards.

Not you. Even with him exuding even more of his dour demeanor you came running up to him. Puzzle box in hand.

"My Lord! I know you just returned, but I have been waiting for teran weeks for you to return." you were overflowing with excitement; practically vibrating with it.

It was like a disease that spread quickly, because as you spoke his ire cooled. You were happy he was home.

"Make it quick." though he hoped you took as long as you wanted.

"I am about to open the box, and I wanted to open it with you!" you grin up at him coming closer, "Exciting right?"

You...waited for him. Wanted to share in his happiness with...Throne he thought he was going to burst out of his armor and into flames.

"For someone who cannot easily solve things, I suppose. Well, open it." he grumbled, fighting to keep his mask on.

As you moved the last piece into place and opened the lid, a centerpiece rose up, and thereupon it was a metal sculpting of morning glories rising up and in bloom, the spun slowly as music played. And resting inside the main flower was a small ring, designed to look like vines holding a blooming rose the held a pink diamond.

Oh the look upon your face he would have waited lifetimes just to see it. It made this little box the greatest thing he would ever fashion.

"My Lord...I...forgive me, my words are failing." you whisper still marveling at the spinning flowers, "I love morning glories..."

Perturabo nodded, "I am aware. I do listen..." he wanted to know about the ring, wanted you to wear it.

Let everyone know you were his. That you wanted to be his.

Tears well up in your eyes as you so gingerly take the ring. Without needing to ask he gently holds the box so you might place it upon one of your fingers. He watches intently as you try various fingers before putting it upon your ring finger.

"My..."

"Perturabo. You can call me by my name...should you wish to continue to wear that ring." he spoke so very softly for himself.

Thorne, he needed you to keep it on.

"I will, Perturabo," you say his name to see how it rolls off your tongue and it sounds like heaven to him.

When this crusade is over he will fill this place with sounds of your and his children, and he will cast off all this cold machinery for things that truly mattered to him. Being a toy maker in one's spare time wasn't such a foolish notion. He would not die like your brother, and leave you alone.

"Are you sure you want...I mean... I am a serf, people will talk and I do not want to tarnish your name." you whisper to him, eyes fixed on the ring.

"They would be foolish to speak of it where I can hear." was all he offered.

Your small hands slip over his covered in his massive gauntlets, and he was trembling to get this armor off.

"My Lady, if it pleases you," his voice low and he leaned in close so no other could hear, "I wish to remove this armor, if you would wait for me in my chambers..." he couldn't believe he was doing this! Smoothness and words were not his strong points, but for you, he would try, "There is a puzzle I would like to get to know intimately, work with my hands, would you be willing?"

His face burned as he waited what felt like eons for you to reply. Was this all too much too fast? Was he being a fool?

You take the music puzzle box from him and when you pull back you are smiling with cheeks as flushed as his, "I would love that. Now go before your men see you this shade of red and not yelling. I do not want to ruin your reputation." you tease

Perturabo smiled, "You, I will allow to ruin me." he said before tearing off to get this damn armor off.

[tanjamikaelson]

BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER - CHAPTER 3

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 3: | RUMOUR |

You sat cross-legged on your bed, earbuds in, music playing softly as you replayed the events of last night in your mind. Every time you thought about Rafe, a heat crept up your cheeks. The memory of his touch lingered, the way his fingers had moved against you, sending shivers through your body. It was intoxicating, the way he made you feel—wanted, desired. You had never felt anything like it before. The thought of it stirred something inside you, something you hadn’t been able to shake all day.

You were so lost in the memory that you didn’t hear the door burst open until Sarah’s voice cut through the air like a knife. “Y/N, is it true?”

Startled, you pulled out your earbuds, eyes snapping up to meet hers. “What?” you asked, still caught between your thoughts and the sudden reality of her presence. The look on her face—disappointment, anger—hit you like a punch to the gut.

“You slept with Rafe?!” The words exploded out of her, each syllable laced with betrayal.

Your heart dropped. “No, I didn’t,” you said quickly, shaking your head, but the hurt in her eyes didn’t waver.

“Then why is everybody talking about it?” Sarah’s arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her posture defensive and hurt. She wasn’t just your best friend—she was like a sister. And now, standing there, she looked at you like she didn’t know you at all.

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “My ex showed up at the party,” you began, your voice steady but laced with frustration. “I told everyone what he did to me... how he cheated. And Rafe—he stepped in to protect me. My ex was jealous and started spreading rumors.”

Sarah’s expression softened, the anger fading just a bit as she processed your words. “And Rafe broke his nose,” she said, piecing together the bits of information she must have heard throughout the day.

“Yeah, he did,” you confirmed. “He didn’t let him disrespect me like that, in front of everyone.”

You could see the tension leaving her shoulders, the rigidness of her posture easing. “I guess it’s nice of Rafe to do that,” she muttered, almost begrudgingly.

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, unexpected and light. “Oh wow, I never thought I’d hear you say something nice about your brother.”

Sarah rolled her eyes but smiled, the last of the anger melting away. She sank onto the bed beside you, a sigh escaping her lips. “Hey, I didn’t say he was nice, just that what he did was.” Her tone was playful, but you could hear the undercurrent of relief.

You nodded, smiling at her. “Yeah, okay.”

But even as you joked, a small knot of guilt tightened in your chest. You hadn’t lied to Sarah, not completely. You and Rafe hadn’t slept together, but what had happened between you was still real, still intimate. And you couldn’t tell her, not yet. Maybe one day you’d find the words to explain, to make her understand, but not now. Now, the truth would only hurt her more.

“So, you want to go dress shopping tomorrow for midsummers?” Sarah asked, her voice casual, as if she was trying to push past the tension that had filled the room moments ago.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, grateful for the change in subject, and for the opportunity to move forward.

Sarah smiled, the kind of smile that lit up her whole face, and for a moment, everything felt normal again. “Can’t wait.”

•°•°•°•°•°•

The next day, you arrived at Sarah’s house, excited for a day of dress shopping and distractions. You had spent most of the morning thinking about what you wanted to wear for the midsummer event, picturing yourself in all sorts of dresses, each one more beautiful than the last. But when you reached Sarah’s room, she wasn’t there. You called out her name, but the house was unusually quiet.

Confused, you made your way back downstairs, pausing when you saw Rafe lounging on the couch, his expression unreadable. “Hey, where’s Sarah?” you asked, trying to keep your voice light, though the disappointment of not finding your friend was creeping in.

Rafe shrugged, looking genuinely clueless. “I have no idea.”

“She told me yesterday to come so we could go shopping...” You trailed off, glancing around, wondering where she could be.

“Well, I haven’t seen her either,” Rafe said, then paused, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your stomach flip. “Can we talk? Privately?”

Your heart rate picked up, but you nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Without another word, Rafe stood and grabbed your hand, pulling you gently but firmly up the stairs and into his room. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound somehow final, sealing you both in. He turned to face you, his eyes searching yours, his expression serious.

“About the other night...” Rafe began, his voice careful, as if he was testing the waters. “If I made you feel uncomfortable...”

You shook your head quickly, the words tumbling out before he could finish. “No, Rafe. You didn’t.” You took a breath, trying to find the right words. “I just don’t want Sarah to know. She almost found out the truth after my ex spread that rumor.”

Rafe’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. “I know. He got what he deserved.”

You smiled, the memory of your ex writhing on the floor, blood streaming from his nose, bringing a dark satisfaction. “He did. I loved seeing him like that.”

Rafe’s lips curved into a smirk, his eyes lighting up. He was glad you felt the same way, glad that he hadn’t overstepped. Your gaze drifted around his room, and you noticed a baby blue suit hanging on the closet door, pristine and elegant.

“Nice suit,” you remarked, nodding towards it. “Are you wearing that to midsummers?”

Rafe glanced at the suit, then back at you, nodding. “Yeah. What are you wearing?”

You shrugged, the truth still hanging in the air between you. “I don’t know yet. I was supposed to go dress shopping with Sarah...” But as you said the words, an idea sparked in your mind, a way to match, to be connected without anyone knowing.

Before you could finish the thought, Rafe closed the space between you, his presence overwhelming. You felt the door press against your back, his body inches from yours. His gaze was intense, his voice low and steady as he spoke. “So... I would like that to happen again...” His words hung in the air, charged with the memory of what had transpired between you both at Kelce’s party.

Your heart skipped a beat. You knew exactly what he was referring to, and the thought of it made heat pool in your belly. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “But not right now.”

Rafe cocked his head to the side, his eyes darkening with something that made your pulse quicken. “When?”

You shook your head, feeling the frustration build. “I don’t know. When Sarah’s not around.”

Rafe’s hand brushed against your arm, his touch featherlight, sending shivers down your spine. “She’s not here right now,” he reminded you, his smirk almost teasing.

“But she could come back any minute,” you countered, your voice a whisper, but filled with urgency.

Rafe sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. “So you want us completely alone? We’re never completely alone.”

You sighed too, mirroring his frustration, feeling it thrum between you like a live wire. “I know, but we can figure something out.”

Rafe stepped back, his eyes narrowing slightly, his voice laced with annoyance. “Well, let me know when you do.” He turned away, his shoulders tense, his disappointment palpable.

You stood there, your back still pressed against the door, your heart racing. The tension between you was almost unbearable, and as he turned his back on you, a mix of emotions swirled inside you—desire, frustration, and the nagging guilt that came from keeping this secret from Sarah. You had to find a way to make this right, to figure out what you really wanted before everything spiraled out of control.

You fled from his room, your heart pounding, the walls feeling like they were closing in on you. You needed air, space—anything to clear your head. The intensity of Rafe’s gaze, the weight of his words, and the way your body responded to him had all been overwhelming. You could barely think straight as you made your way down the hallway, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

Rafe stood there, stunned, watching as you hurried out. He hadn’t expected you to leave like that, so abruptly, without a second glance. He felt a sharp pang in his chest, a strange mixture of frustration and confusion that he couldn’t quite place. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he tried to process what had just happened. He hadn’t meant to push you away. Hell, he hadn’t even realized how much he wanted you to stay until he watched you walk out the door, leaving him alone with nothing but the echo of your presence. A bitter taste settled in his mouth as he replayed the last few moments over and over in his mind.

Why did you leave?

Rafe felt a surge of anger—at himself, mostly. He had been so close, so close to having you again, to feeling your warmth, to experiencing the high of being near you. The memory of the other night, the way your body had responded to his touch, was still fresh in his mind, burning like a brand against his skin. And now, standing alone in his room, he felt that heat turning into a gnawing ache. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, trying to shake off the tension that coiled tightly in his chest. His thoughts were a chaotic mess—part of him wanted to chase after you, to drag you back into the room and make you stay until you understood how much he needed you. But another part, the one that knew he had already pushed too hard, told him to let you go, to give you the space you were clearly asking for.

Rafe’s jaw clenched as he replayed the conversation in his mind. He knew he could be intense—too intense, sometimes—but he couldn’t help it. Not when it came to you. There was something about you that drove him crazy, made him feel things he didn’t understand, things he didn’t want to admit even to himself.

He turned and punched the wall beside him, the sharp pain in his knuckles a welcome distraction from the turmoil inside his head. He didn’t know what to do with all the emotions swirling inside him—frustration, desire, a strange sense of vulnerability that he wasn’t used to feeling. You had gotten under his skin, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Rafe let out a low, bitter laugh. He was angry—angry at himself for scaring you off, angry at the situation, angry at everything that kept him from having what he wanted. And what he wanted was you. Completely, without hesitation, without hiding.

He knew you were scared—scared of what being with him would mean, scared of how Sarah would react, scared of how this would change things between all of you. But he was scared, too, even if he’d never say it out loud. Scared of wanting you this much, scared of what it meant if you didn’t want him the same way.

Rafe stared at the door for a long moment, his chest heaving as he tried to rein in the storm of emotions crashing through him. He wanted to run after you, to pull you into his arms and tell you that he’d wait, that he’d do whatever it took to make this work. But he knew that right now, that wasn’t what you needed.

With a deep, shuddering breath, he turned away from the door, the frustration simmering under his skin like a live wire. He needed to cool off, to clear his head, to figure out how to fix this. Because he wasn’t ready to give up—not on you, not on what you could be together.

But for now, he’d have to let you go.

For now.

•°•°•°•°•°•

The warmth of sunset had started to settle over the open field, casting long shadows and soft light over everyone who had come out for the outdoor movie night. You found a spot on the grass with some friends, surrounded by laughter and the quiet hum of conversation as the film began. But as the movie dragged on, you found yourself losing interest, your thoughts drifting.

A glance around the crowd was all it took to pull you from your thoughts—you spotted Rafe a few feet away, sitting with Topper and Kelce. He didn’t look like he was enjoying the movie either, his elbow propped up on his knee, his cheek resting in his hand as he pouted at the screen. His presence seemed to fill the air around you, sending a small thrill through your chest.

You couldn’t help but notice when he eventually got up, his broad shoulders and confident stance drawing your attention like a magnet. Without really thinking, you rose to your feet and decided to follow him, weaving through the crowd.

Rafe led you around the back of the movie screen, and it didn’t take long to see what was happening. Rafe, Topper, and Kelce had cornered JJ and Pope, the tension crackling in the air. Before you could even process what was happening, punches were being thrown, and a brutal fight erupted between the kooks and pogues.

“Don’t do this, guys!” you yelled, but your voice was lost in the chaos, falling on deaf ears.

Suddenly, a flash of movement caught your eye. Kie appeared from nowhere, gripping JJ’s backpack with both hands as she swung it at Topper, landing a blow square against his back. “Let go of him, Topper! Fascist asshole!” she shouted, her voice carrying a mixture of fear and fury. Topper, unfazed, turned on her, yanking the bag out of her hands and tossing it aside as he tightened his grip on Pope.

Your gaze shifted to Rafe, who was busy landing a punch on JJ, while Kelce held him firmly, keeping him from fighting back. Kie, seeing this, leaped onto Topper’s back, clawing at him, trying desperately to pull him away from Pope.

The sight must have caught Rafe’s attention because he turned and immediately moved towards them. He grabbed Kie around the waist, pulling her off Topper effortlessly, her legs kicking out as she fought against him.

“Let go of me, Rafe!” she screamed, writhing in his grip.

“Stay out of this, Kiara. Okay?” Rafe’s voice was low, and cold, as he tossed her aside, sending her stumbling to the ground.

Your heart pounded as you watched Kie rummage through the backpack, her fingers closing around something. Your eyes widened as you realized it was a gun.

“Kie!” you called out, rushing over to grab her hand, panic filling your voice.

She looked up at you, her expression wild and unyielding, yanking her hand away. “Don’t!” she snapped, her tone sharp with desperation and anger. Then, without missing a beat, she stuffed the gun back into the bag, her hand now pulling out a lighter.

“Kie, stop!” you pleaded, but she pushed you back, her eyes blazing with a resolve you hadn’t seen in her before.

“Stop being on their side!” she shouted, her voice echoing over the scene. Without another word, she flicked the lighter and held it to the screen, setting it ablaze.

The next thing you knew, flames erupted, consuming the movie screen and casting an orange glow over the chaotic scene. It was a bold, desperate attempt to end the fight, and it worked.

The sudden blaze shocked everyone. For a moment, all movement stopped, the fire commanding everyone’s attention as it leaped and crackled against the night sky. The Kooks froze, stunned by the unexpected turn, their faces illuminated by the flames.

Rafe let out a dark laugh, the flicker of fire reflecting in his eyes. “Let’s go, Kelce,” he muttered, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. His gaze landed on you, still crouched on the ground, and his expression hardened slightly. Without hesitation, he strode over, reaching down to grab your arm, and pulling you up to your feet.

“You shouldn’t have tried to stop us,” he said, his voice laced with annoyance, though a flicker of something softer lay behind it.

“I don’t like it when there’s a fight,” you replied, brushing the dirt and grass off your clothes, but he wasn’t listening.

“They sank Topper’s boat and held a gun to his head,” Rafe explained his tone a mix of frustration and something darker. "We’re supposed to just let it slide?”

You stayed silent, knowing that arguing with him now would only make things worse. He nudged you forward, a light push urging you to start walking with him. As you moved forward, you felt his hand smack against your backside, making you stumble slightly in surprise.

When you glanced over your shoulder, he smirked, feigning innocence. "Your butt had dirt on it," he chuckled, but there was a gleam in his eye that suggested otherwise.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, Rafe’s hand shot out, grabbing your arm and pulling you aside, away from prying eyes. You barely had a second to process before your back was pressed against a wall, his face inches from yours.

"Don’t roll your eyes at me," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"You’re annoying," you shot back, trying to mask the thrill that raced through you at his closeness.

A smirk spread across his face, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, am I?” he murmured, his voice dripping with a playful edge. “Was I also annoying when I gave you an orgasm without asking for anything in return?”

Your pulse quickened, and you struggled to keep your composure. "No. You’re just annoying now," you muttered, trying to ignore the heat pooling inside you.

Rafe’s eyes darkened, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You’re annoying too, you know that?"

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “How so?”

His face darkened slightly, the playfulness turning into something more intense. “You rejected me earlier today when I wanted something more to happen,” he said, his tone holding a hint of frustration.

“It wasn’t like that—” you started to explain, but he cut you off, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

“But I bet you’d want another orgasm. wouldn’t you?” he whispered, his voice rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a moment, you were speechless. Unable to hold back, you nodded slightly, the admission causing a flicker of amusement in his gaze. His hand slid along your thigh, pressing just enough to make you part your legs in response. He chuckled softly, his fingers skimming over the edge of your short dress, teasing you with a touch that was both gentle and maddeningly slow.

“Is that why you’re wearing this short dress?” he murmured, his fingers brushing along the edge of your panties. “You knew I would be here.”

“Rafe—” you breathed out, your voice shaky as his touch ignited a fire inside you.

He grinned, a smug glint in his eyes as he continued teasing you, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your panties. “Shit. Does this turn you on?” he asked, his voice low and amused.

You bit your lip, trying to stifle the moan building in your throat. His hand shifted, moving your panties to the side, his fingers slipping through your wet folds, making you whimper.

“Are you turned on because anyone could catch us?” he questioned, his voice rough, “Or do I just have that effect on you?”

“Both,” you answered quickly, barely able to contain yourself.

Rafe let out a quiet laugh, pleased by your neediness. His fingers moved with more purpose, sliding over your sensitive skin, his touch driving you closer to the edge. You clutched at his hand, desperate for him to keep going.

“This is the last time I’m giving you an orgasm without getting one in return,” he warned, his tone dark and possessive.

Rafe’s lips found your neck, and he began to leave a trail of heated kisses, making sure to leave a mark. You clung to him, your need for him overpowering any sense of caution. His hand moved expertly, and you felt yourself melting under his touch, gasping as he continued.

"Do you ever touch yourself while thinking of me?" he murmured, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Yes," you admitted, barely able to form the word.

He groaned softly, his own desire evident in the way he pressed against you, his breath hot against your skin. “I’d like to see that,” he murmured, his fingers speeding up, the pressure driving you closer to the brink.

The intensity in his gaze made your cheeks flush, and you could barely meet his eyes as he looked at you, his own filled with a fierce longing. You felt your resolve crumble as he kissed your neck again, his fingers working faster. The familiar tension built in your core, your breaths coming quicker as he guided you toward the edge. When your orgasm hit, you bit down on your lip to muffle your moans, your body going limp as the pleasure overtook you.

Rafe held you steady, his grip strong, and as your legs threatened to give out, he kept you from crumpling to the ground.

TAGS: @wearemadeofstardust0 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

tell your girlfriend that I am your girlfriend- Jude Bellingham

Wearning: +18,smut, english is not my first language.

The music was loud, rumbling in the crowded room. The lights danced, coloring the track in red, blue and purple reflections, and Jude couldn’t help but look at you. You were dancing, lost in the rhythm, and there was something in every movement that left him breathless. Even though he was there with Vinicius and Kylian, his look was all for you.

Vinicius patted him on the shoulder, laughing. "Hey, tonight you only have eyes for one girl, I see." Jude ignored the comment, fascinated by your way of moving.

He approached you, feeling a strange tension growing inside him. When his eyes met yours, you smiled at him, almost as if you were waiting for him to take that step towards you. Without saying anything, you got closer still, and when you started dancing together, the distance between you was non-existent.

"You can’t take your eyes off me, can you?" whisper in his ear, with a tone that was both provocative and inviting.

He swallowed, struggling with that sudden and unexpected desire. "What if it were true? What would you do?"

You came even closer, sliding your hands around his neck, your bodies moving in perfect harmony, as if you were each other’s completion. "Let’s say tonight you can forget about everything else."

Jude held his breath as you danced on him, sensual, as if no one else existed in the world.

With a fluid movement, you sunflower, letting your body press against his, your butt touching its intimacy. Jude held back a moan, closing his eyes as he felt the contact that was driving him crazy.

He knew he shouldn’t have let go like that, he had a girlfriend,' yet the intensity of the moment, your presence so close, made him feel as if he had completely lost control. Slowly, you started moving on him, keeping that rhythm you knew would drive him crazy.

His hands gently laid on your hips, and you could feel his breath becoming more irregular against your neck.

"You are aware of what you are doing to me, aren’t you?" she whispered in a hoarse and yearning voice.

You smiled, just tilting your head toward him. " Perhaps yes," you replied in a mischievous tone, continuing to move against him feeling his erection more and more evident. " Or maybe I just want to see you lose control, Jude."

His fingers clenched slightly on your hips, and he came even closer, narrowing the space between your bodies. " You know you’re driving me crazy, right?"

Laughing slowly, you sunflower again to look him in the eye. "Maybe that’s just what I wanted."

Jude could not hold back. With a determined gesture, he pulled you to himself and his lips found yours in a deep, passionate kiss that made the world around forget. His hands ran from your back to your hips, as if he were afraid of letting you go even for a moment. You answered with the same intensity, letting your laughter suffocate in the kiss, amused by how completely lost it was in you.

"Come with me," he whispered in your ear, not breaking off at all, with a voice full of desire. Before you could answer, he took your hand, made his way through the crowd and headed to the nearest bathroom, while you chuckled at how desperate he was to be alone with you.

Once inside, Jude slammed the door shut and gently pushed you against the wall, his dark eyes filled with uncontrollable passion. "You have no idea how much you drive me crazy," she muttered, her gaze fixed on your face. Then he kissed you again, this time even more intense, as if trying to imprint in that kiss all the desire he had for you.

"I never thought I’d see you like this," you whispered, laughing softly as your eyes met his.

"It’s your fault," she replied, smiling as it lost itself between your lips and your perfume. "I can’t do without you."

As your hands slid down his chest, Jude quickly released the shirt, and you did the same with your clothes, until there was only your skins to rub. You kept kissing each other, with an intensity that seemed to increase every second, as if every kiss, every touch, would light up even more the flame that was burning between you.

With a sure move, Jude lifted you up, making you sit on the sink edge, and you clung to his back as he lowered his head, leaving a trail of light kisses and bites along your neck. Her kisses were warm, passionate, and you felt her breath getting heavier against your skin. The way his lips hung over your neck, sucking and biting it slightly, made you shiver and close your eyes for pleasure.

"You’re... incredible," he whispered against your skin, sliding his hands down your hips as he continued to explore you with his lips, almost as if he wanted to imprint every moment in memory.

You clung to him, responding with a provocative smile. " And you have no idea how much I wanted you here," you whispered, losing yourself in the pleasure of that stolen moment.

You could feel his hard cock touching your side and you spread your legs by tying them to your waist to get your pussy on his dick.

You both groaned as you felt your pussy grip his cock. "I missed this pussy as it clenched on my cock" she said pushing harder inside you as you arch your back and lay your hands on her back and you started scratching her.

"so good" you said moaning as he accompanied his thrusts while playing with your nipples.

"Did you miss daddy?" he said sucking on your tits and you chuckled as he sighed with pleasure.

Jude began to move more intensely against you, making you lose all control. Every movement was determined, and the pleasure grew , filling every corner of your body. His eyes were fixed on yours, and at that moment you felt like the only person who mattered to him.

"You’re perfect... I can’t believe you’re here with me," she murmured in a husky voice, each word accompanied by an intense kiss on your skin. His lips were looking for your neck, your shoulders, while his hands were running along your body, exploring every curve as if he wanted to remember every detail.

He praised you without ceasing, every word making you feel as if you were indispensable, as if you were his only thought. " You don’t know how much I wanted you... how amazing you are, I can’t resist you," she continued, her eyes burning with desire as her impulses became deeper and more engaging.

Unable to hold back a groan, you clung more to him, letting go completely at that moment, knowing that nothing could separate you from him now.

You felt the warmth of his breath on your neck as Jude continued to move with increasing intensity, her deep strokes making you lose sense of time and space. Every push was accompanied by suffocated whispers, words that made you feel like you were all he needed.

"I can’t stop thinking about you... you’re so irresistible," she murmured between kisses, her voice hoarse betraying her vulnerability at that moment. His hands held you, as if he was afraid that I might vanish, and made you feel completely his. You felt every fiber of your body vibrating for him, the warmth of his touches and his words that completely enveloped you.

With a last whisper full of desire, Jude let go with you, his eyes staring at yours in a moment of pure passion. His breath mixed with yours, and as you huddled together, the world around it seemed to vanish.

You came on his dick and he with two other shoves came inside you, as it was a long time ago when you were together.

You both groaned as your pussy welcomed Jude’s cum.

"Fuck, so beautiful" whispered as she kissed you on your lips.

You both looked at each other and could feel the love and feelings that you thought were gone, but they weren’t. "I missed you y/n" whispered and you smiled caressing his hair "you too Jude,you too"

[dakota1435]

Moonlight Blood -- Vampire!Sylus X Reader ✩₊˚.☪︎ ⁺₊✧

word count: 3.5k

tw: alcohol mention, (very) minor death, minor harassment, possesive sylus, ohh he want u so bad

Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Chapter 4

Before you fully open your eyes, you feel something like soft velvet. The feeling begins to kick in your consciousness and you slowly open your eyes. It’s dark, aside from a small, warm light emitting in a corner. As you become more awake, your most recent memories come rushing in. With haste you sit yourself up, feeling around your neck. There’s no puncture wounds, much to your surprise. But, you knew better than to chalk it up to a scary dream. Your hand rests just above your chest, trying to calm yourself. You ran, he bit, and now you’re in a room unfamiliar to you.

“...How do you feel?” That deep, rich voice comes from a dark corner in the room. You whip your head with instinct, to find Sylus standing himself against a wall.  A creature of the night…

You swallow thickly, painfully aware of the ache in your throat. “Fine,” you spoke softly. The memory of the pain resurfaced in your mind. 

“You were asleep for a full day. It seems I was a little greedy, but I have never tasted finer blood than yours.” Maybe it was a compliment coming from him, but you still couldn’t understand how your blood was special. He stares at you, almost emotionless. You found yourself at a loss for words.

“I see…” The silence after your words hung heavy in the air. The room, massive in size, suddenly felt suffocating. 

“Do I scare you now? Do you want to run away?” He asked suddenly. The nonchalant in his voice was close to being unnerving. Your eyes widened a bit, the question bouncing in your mind. You knew you would never forget that kind of pain. But honestly, you knew Sylus wouldn’t let you go no matter what you said. Part of you was grateful he wasn’t cruel– that he didn’t lock you up, or starve you. He gave you privacy for the most part. The most confusing part was when he tried to comfort you before the bite? It made your head spin thinking about it. 

“No.” You knew it would be impossible to explain further. Much to your luck, Sylus didn’t prod. He removes himself from the wall, slowly walking over to the bed. He extends his hand to you, offering. 

“Come. You must eat, and I have a proposition for you.” It was more like a command, and curiosity tugged in your mind at the proposition he mentioned. You nod silently, taking his hand. It made you realize the drastic difference in size, the small human you were compared to him. A vampire, but not a monster yet. Sylus helps you stand steady on your feet before dropping your hand. As you both walk calmly towards the grand dining room, not another word is spoken. You couldn’t tell if you were grateful for the silence or not. It made your mind replay last night's events on a constant loop. It didn’t feel real, but something about it reminded you it was all too real. 

Your head spun, mentally and physically, as you approached the same massive dining table you’ve sat at before. Food was already prepared and presented, as it always is when you enter the room. It was quite rare for you to see another servant aside from the twins, but it was something you didn’t question often. The food was always fresh. A plate of towering fruit catches your eye. You and Sylus sit across from each other as you begin to modestly consume the sweet fruit. Sylus, as usual, doesn’t eat. He stares, his eyes burning where he looks at you. It lingers. After a few bites, you decide to speak. 

“So…what is the proposition you have for me?” You asked, trying not to sound eager. Certainly, it can’t be anything bad. 

“Oh? You already sound interested,” Sylus pointed out. He eyes the piece of fruit you bring to your lips. “As you know, I run a multitude of businesses. There’s nothing I don’t own. But, naturally, I can’t control it all. There is somebody selling counterfeit items, claiming it under my name.” His tone turns icy and sharp. “It is held at an auction. I have an important meeting with an executive the same night of the auction, and I need you to be bait, simply put.” Sylus pauses in his speech, letting the words sink into you. 

“Bait?” You question, feeling a little unsure. Sylus scoffs.

“All you have to do is act like you’re purchasing items. The rat will expose himself to you. Unless, maybe, you don’t feel cut up to it,” he said. Reverse psychology does work for a reason, after all. You straighten your posture, considering Sylus’ offer. This would be a chance for you to be somewhere other than this mansion, which sounds refreshing. Your taste of fresh air last night definitely had you craving more. 

“Why me, though? What about Luke or Kieran?” You wondered out loud. 

“Those two are on a separate mission. Besides, I assume you know how to act as good bait,” he smirks a bit, causing you to be a bit speechless. 

“...What happens when you find the traitor?” It was a question that racked your mind, but you probably knew the answer already.

“I get rid of them. People should know better than to mess with me. I don’t take these kinds of things lightly.” He looks at his hands as he says this, as if imagining the blood staining his hands. You swallow thickly, knowing exactly what he meant.

“I’ll…I’ll do it.” Your resolve was set in stone. You hadn’t expected Sylus to ask this of you, it almost felt out of character for him. An emotion flashes in his eyes, but it was hard to tell what it could mean. Sylus reveals that the event is tomorrow night, and that he would send ‘items necessary’ to your room.

For the rest of the time, you don’t see Sylus again. He was even absent during dinner. But this was nothing new to you. He stayed true to his word though, as a few new boxes arrive randomly in your bedroom. You hurry and open the boxes, finding a beautiful, sleek wine colored dress, with matching heels. A few accessories here and there and a discreet earpiece for communication. It nearly felt…exciting to have a change in pace. And to be a spy at that? Your mind races with every and any possibility that could occur. As you prepare yourself, you can’t help but think it looks like you’re going to a fancy dinner party. The dress was sexy, truthfully. The dark red color looked great against your skin type, your curves being shown off. A pair of diamond earrings and necklace also came with your dress. God knows how much this was, but you didn’t think hard about it. You haven’t worn any form of makeup or really dressed up since you’ve arrived. After some glamor, it was astonishing how beautiful you looked in such fine attire. You found yourself tranced in your reflection before being startled by Sylus’ unannounced presence behind you. You can tell immediately from his stare he takes in all of you. 

“You look captivating, kitten,” he complimented, the corner of his lips teasing a smile. You can’t help but feel a bit flush under his sharp-set stare. He’s wearing dress clothes you’ve seen before: black shirt with black dress coat, a red accent almost blending in. “Are you ready?” He asked, pulling you out of your daze. 

“Yes!” You say, a little too quickly. Sylus takes another look over you, before guiding you towards the outside. There, a black luxurious car waits for you both. Sylus opens the door for you, before going on the other side and sits himself next to you. Without saying a word, the car begins to drive off to the unknown location of the auction. The windows are blacked out, making you unable to see outside. Feeling a bit awkward, you fidget with the heavy ring on your finger. 

“Nervous?” Sylus noticed. You stop fidgeting, not wanting to seem weak. 

“No.” Your response was short, causing Sylus to snicker with amusement. After a handful of minutes, the car comes to a slow stop. Sylus doesn’t say another word as he gets out, soon pulling you out of the car with him. You enter a massive building, that of a skyscraper. As you both enter the hallway, he stops at the entrance of the auction. It wasn’t anything like you experienced when you were sold; it was much fancier, more refined. If anything, it seemed more like a private, social gathering of the richest people. A man approaches Sylus, not giving you a single glance.

“We’ve been expecting you, sir. If you’ll just follow me…” The man said respectfully. Sylus looks at you for a long second before effortlessly pulling out a thick, black card. 

“Have fun,” he smirks at you. It’s his credit card, and there’s a small part of you that feels a rush of energy with the money presented to you. Unlimited, you knew. Sylus walks away with the man, following him down a hallway. Now alone, your nerves start to grow. You look back at the grand doors you entered through, the thought of escaping screaming in your mind. But, you didn’t know where you were. You didn’t want to find out what wrath Sylus would cause. The little family you had left must’ve thought you were long gone. Looking back at the auction entrance, you try to steady your mind. What if they knew you were a spy for him? Would they hurt you? If Sylus is in a meeting, would he know? Well, at least the earpiece works. Taking a deep breath, you control yourself. Be good bait. His words echo in your head. It’s oddly comforting. 

You saunter over, blending in with the others there. They don’t give you a second look, which you were grateful for. Items were held in a glass case, boxed over with a singular light. A particular item catches your eye and you figure you should start buying before wasting any time. 

“Are you interested, Miss?” A young man approaches you. With his mannerisms and approach, he must take care of the selling here. A fake warming smile graces your lips. 

“I am, actually. How much?” Your voice doesn’t waver. Seems like you can act after all.

“It’s going for 3 million right now.” 

“Then I’ll put down 5 million.” Your actions were confident, but in your head you had no idea what you were doing. Every part of you just waited to hear the words of the supposed enemy.

“Wonderful. We’ll have it prepared for you by the end of tonight.” The young man bowed slightly before attending to another person. Here you thought this was the guy. You sigh to yourself, scolding at your naivety. Of course this wasn’t easy, Sylus would have probably had the person by now. Continuing forward, you look at more items presented to you. You buy another thing, noticing a different servant nearby. But, once again, he isn’t the suspect you needed. 

A little over half an hour passes, and there’s no luck. What if you don’t find the suspect by the end of the night? You were worried about disappointing Sylus, or more importantly, angering him. But there were a ton of items left to review, and an unlimited spending amount. There was no giving up yet! With determination, you start to examine more items. An unfamiliar voice catches your attention. 

“Excuse me, would you like a drink?” You turn around to find another man around your age, dressed similar to the servants. He was carrying a tray of tall champagne glasses, each sparkling in their own way. 

“Thank you,” you said before reaching out for the glass. You didn’t really want a drink, but you had to go with the flow of things. The servant man walks away, and you don’t give him a second thought. It is only moments later, he reappears again. 

“Miss? I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been alone. I haven’t seen you here before, are you new?” The man asks. He wears a smile, but there’s something about it that seems cheap. You rehearsed for this kind of question. 

“Oh, yes. I am from another country. My friend said I would enjoy this, and so far it has been a delight,” you smile warmly. You direct your eye contact back to the glowing case, trying to seem more interested in the item. 

“If I may be straight-forward, you’re quite beautiful. Can I convince you to have a drink with me?” His tone was playful, hopeful even. Be good bait. The same phrase keeps you in reality. You were a little astonished by this man’s honesty, but maybe after a drink he’ll talk more. Just have to play the part…

You look at him, seeming interested. “That sounds nice. I’m almost out of champagne as you can see.” You spot the nearby bar, it gives a very low key look to it. The man seems pleased with your response, and guides you away from the floor. As you both sit in a corner booth, you find the man to be a little too close. You try to ignore this observation. He waves to somebody, orders two of the same drinks, and shoos the person off as he turns to you. Internally, you did not like the situation this was creating. But you were hoping he wasn’t a heavyweight. 

“So,” you begin the conversation, “I understood you to be a worker, are you not?” You question, trying to seem interested in this man. He chuckles.

“Yes, and no. I’m not like the servants here. I help run things here. Attending to the guests every so often just helps.” You can tell in his tone he’s egotistical for sure. “Let me tell you though, I see a lot of people in these things, but I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you.” He says, attempting to be seductive. It took you a lot of energy not to physically shudder from his comment. He was obviously trying way too hard. Before you can respond, two glasses are set down on the table. They both look like glasses of red wine. 

“Is this your first time in a place like this?” He asked. You noticed he liked to speak. A lot. 

“No, although first time by myself.” You said. He raises his glass to give a small toast. You do the same, mimicking his behavior. You both gently clink glasses before taking a sip. The wine was stronger than you remember in general, the liquid leaving a warm trail down your throat. He eyeballed you like you were nothing but meat. Which was a little ironic, considering you were Sylus’ dinner. You smile tightly.

“If you help run things here, can you help me find something?” You batted your eyelashes. If this doesn’t work, then what? You take another sip. It burns, again. 

“I know everything about this place. What do you want?” 

Now would be the time to shoot your shot. “My friend asked if I could find her something. I believe she mentioned it is an item from a company ran by a Sylus?” You try to ask with a smooth voice. Your heart began to beat a bit faster, nervously awaiting his answer. You take another sip. The man across from you stares, his expression a bit unreadable. Then, he smirks. 

“Onychinus? Sure. It’s not cheap though, baby.” You feel yourself physically recoiling at the pet name. But you go back to what he said, Onychinus. Sylus never told you the name of his businesses or companies. In fact, you weren’t even sure what he produced and sold. You try and stifle the tightness in your smile. 

“Can you show me who the seller is? I have a few questions.” 

“You’re looking at him, hun.” He grins wickedly as he scoots closer, his arm suddenly around your waist. You try not to reject his touch, wanting to complete your mission as best as you could. You hope Sylus could hear everything through the secretive ear piece you were wearing. “Before we get down to business, how about I give you a select private tour? I’d be willing to show you everything I’ve got.” The man is a little too close for comfort now, but you were in the final stages. You give a fake chuckle, and smile at him again. 

            “That sounds lovely, thank you.” Final stages, you reminded yourself. It’s almost over. The man gets up from the booth and extends his hand to you. You gently take it as he begins to walk away. You both leave the main area of the room, only to find yourself turning down a couple of hallways. Then, he stops. He stands in front of a bleak, plain door with a heavy padlock around the handle. He jams some buttons before a click is heard, and the door opens. It’s dark inside and there isn’t a second to react before you are shoved inside the room. He shuts the door swiftly, trapping you both in the darkness. 

            You already knew this guy was trouble, but this situation just got worse. Your fight or flight instinct kicks in, as you are practically blinded in the dark of the room. You hear the man chuckle darkly, and every fiber of your being told you to get out of there. This was bad, and you had barely any options. You suddenly feel a hand firmly on your arm and you instantly try and shake it off. You touch the ear piece immediately, praying that Sylus already heard everything. 

             “Get off of me!” You screamed as loud as you could. “Get your filthy fucking hands off of me!” The man doesn’t say anything before putting another hand on you, attempting to cease your struggling. You swing your leg up and manage to hit some part of him. Hopefully, his groin. You hear him groan with pain. Darkness still surrounds you, and you tried creating as much distance as you could.

              “You bitch!” The man spat. Then, in the darkness, you hear him begin to choke. He removes himself off of you completely, and you find yourself pressed against the corner of the room. You hear your attacker struggling against something, before hearing a heavy thud hit the ground. 

            The silence in the air is heavy, thick. You swallow, trying to control your breathing. Finding out your next move. Something, someone, was in the room with you. Please God, let it be Sylus. You hear a scoff, very close to you. Your heart hammers in your chest, as if it was going to escape through your ribs.

             “Hmm… seems like you can put up a fight, kitten.” You exhale a shaky breath, finding yourself relieved it was Sylus. Tears pricked at your eyes. You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was standing right in front of you. His hand caresses your arm with a sense of comfort. “Did he hurt you? Did he touch you?” He asked, his deep, velvet voice covering you like a blanket. A part of you was grateful it was pitch black in the room, but you knew he could probably see you anyways. 

            “No…no,” you said, hoping he wasn’t too angry. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think he would—”

           “Stop. Don’t apologize for scum like him. We can leave now,” he said, placing another hand on the other arm. In one swift motion, he picks you up gently, bridal-style. It makes you flustered a bit, but you were too tired to think about it. Your mind races with anxiety of what could’ve happened if Sylus didn’t show up. It makes your stomach churn.

The trip back home felt like a blur to you and not a single word was uttered. The alcohol still lingered in your system a bit, as well as the exhaustion from your life-saving instincts. You don’t give that room a second glance as he carries you out. Much to your surprise, there wasn’t any blood on Sylus. Whatever he did, that disgrace of a man deserved it. Sylus didn’t dare let you go until you arrived back at the mansion. He sets you down gently, as if you were glass. But there was something hard and cold placed on Sylus’ face.

“Are you mad?” You asked quietly, a little confused. 

“He was already in trouble for selling under my name. But to lay his hand on you? I let him go easy. I should’ve came back for him.” His jaw clenches, and for once you see Sylus express anger. You shudder at the thought of Sylus torturing that man, but he had it coming. He glances at you and you notice his brows unfurrowing a bit. “You found him for me, and for that I am grateful. I apologize for not coming sooner.” For the first time, you hear Sylus apologize. Not only to you, but completely in general. You were a bit taken aback, unaware of what to say.  “You are mine,” he says again, it almost sounds like a growl. “I won’t let anyone lay a finger on you. I won’t hesitate.” His eyes burned with a fiery passion. He was serious, and you knew he would kill anyone that intended to harm you.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

@brummiereader Ahhh! Amazing work as always, Brummie! 🖤 I wanna grab Tommy and shake him 😂

Reader's whole ritual of getting ready, her considering her wedding rings, and finding Tommy's shirt in the closest, was all so good. There was such a layer of melancholy to the whole thing. I really felt like I could feel how Reader was missing the time before things all fell apart between them. That line, about her still being a kept woman, was such a gut punch.

Elsie is such a sweetheart! Her telling her mama that she looks pretty nearly melted me 🫠. And I can really feel how much Reader loves her.

Ada being so supportive of Reader! Yes! I adore her so much. I found the parallel between her and Frances's reactions to Reader's choices really interesting, and they showcase just how far Tommy's reach really is. Even if they don't agree with him, they can tell when something Reader does is going to upset him.

Reader's onslaught of self-inflicted insults was so sad to see! 😭This poor girl, I can really see how Tommy's influence seems to have chipped away at her bit by bit over time.

And the worst thing about it all, about the whole fucking ordeal...you still loved him. Still, hopelessly in love with him. Pathetic, a hand shook your arm as your head cast down, remembering the cascade of decisions that had everything fall apart.

Oh, honey...I just wanna give her a hug! The way you describe Tommy as slowly tightening his hold on her over time in reaction to her gaining more independence is horrifying, but also feels very realistic for someone from that time.

Maybe she was right after all. Submit to your husband. The only sensible, optional choice. Right?

No! She's not right, Reader! Stick to your guns, girl! 😤 I love the contrast between her and Linda, with Linda being more willing to submit to her husband than Reader is.

Tommy's POV really continues to fascinate me. I love you've interwoven these moments of more self awareness between his bouts of paranoia. It makes him feel more real, in a lot of ways.

Ugh, Tommy 🤦🏻‍♀️. Of course he would throw an absolute fit over something as simple as a cup of tea.

Eep! I'm so scared for Reader regarding both her planned drinks with her new employer, and Tommy's anger about the tea! 🫣

Binding Love (Part Two/Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After a morning of relentless mulling over your fractured marriage and place in the world, you make a quick dash out the front door before Tommy learns of your plans for the day. But when your daughter's inquisitive mind reveals your intentions, Tommy's paranoia turns its ugly head.

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining.

Word Count: 3.5K

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

" Thank you, Frances" you smiled to your housekeeper in the mirror of your vanity, fingers cradling the cold mug of ginger tea cupped within your hands, you hoped would help you sleep the night before as she finished placing the last of the spindly wired pins in your hair.

" Mam" she laid the small leafed dish of jewellery in front of you as you placed each precious gem to your skin, when the faint clanging of the last piece rattled against the ceramic plate with a brush of your fingers.

" Oh..." your eyes drifted down to your wedding ring sitting lonesome along the ridges of the handmade keepsake. The corners of your lips turning down in sadness at the ache the circular band still managed to pull within your chest.

Something so small, so simple, yet it held the weight of a decade's worth of memories. And although your husband's hand was still adorned with the gold band of vows you had made, yours wasn't. Only the lingering indent of where it once sat remained, embedded into your skin as a reminder of who you'd forever be bound to through the years of your youth you had spent together.

" Right" you rose from your seat, brushing the tear that had settled within the curls of your lashes as you made your way over to your wardrobe.

Hands brushing along the dozens of gowns hand-sewn with lace and sequins, your eyes drifted to a lone shirt of Tommy's nestled between the fabric of your clothes that had gone unnoticed when separating your belongings.

Fuck sake, you sighed to yourself at the constant reminder of his presence, releasing a stifled cry when the lasting notes of his cologne drifted towards you as you pulled it out from within your wardrobe, tightly clutching the cuffs of its arms within the palms of your hands.

You could have moved to one of the many guest rooms. But Tommy had insisted. Was it his way of making you remember, making sure you didn't forget?, your own paranoia began to nag you about the room that suffocated you every night with the reminder of the love that was shared in it, the passionate nights that once filled it.

" This one will do" you abruptly shoved it to the back of the cupboard in favour of a blouse, pulling yourself from recounting the blissful moments you found yourself gazing at through rose-tinted glasses, forgetting the reality of how dire things had become.

Happy times had been replaced with a darkened mood, an unpredictable temper that would sway back and forth to the sound of the pendulum in your foyer to whatever had displeased its owner. For when Tommy's mood was good, it was good. And when it was bad, it was very, fucking, bad.

Deciding to no longer be the kept woman, the woman that had barely a thought to herself her husband hadn't invaded, you had come to the realisation that it would be your responsibility to pull yourself out of the limbo Tommy was intent on keeping you in.

"It's quite chilly outside, Mam. Perhaps something a little warmer?" Frances voiced as her hurried steps raced towards you in a panic after noting the sheerness of the top you had chosen, sheer enough to see a peak of thrills from your brassiere.

" They say it will be mild later today" you shrugged off your gown into a bundle of fabric on the floor as you caught the worrying concern in her eyes.

" Perhaps, perhaps a cardigan then, if it gets too...cold" you relented, watching the relief wash over her as she eagerly searched behind you for a wooly garment that would cover you enough to get you through the front door without your husbands raging jealously making itself known to all those unfortunate enough to be within close vicinity.

" That's better" Frances adjusted the back of your fleecy shawl as you looked at the reflection of yourself in the weathered glass of your bedroom window, pulling the buttoned clothing around the curves of your chest.

Still, a kept woman.

" Elsie, come on! We're going to be late!" you called up the stairs, furiously tugging at the prickling fabric of your cardigan, itching the back of your neck as you paced the foyer. Eager to get going before the sound of your husband's phone call ended, and he learnt of your day's plans.

" Where's my pony? I can't find it!" You heard an avalanche of toys being tossed onto the wooden floors of her bedroom as she searched for her most cherished of toys.

Come on, come on, your body began to panic as you rolled forward from your heel to your toes to see the back of your husband drifting left and right between the crack in the door, receiver still in hand as he gave his orders to the poor soul on the opposite end of the line.

" Elsie!" You called after your six-year-old for a second time, perching on the bottom step of Arrow Houses's grand staircase as your head craned up to see what was taking her so long, when her bouncing curls and plump cheeks suddenly appeared, hopping down each wooden slab with her treasured horse in hand.

" Go, go, go" you ushered her along, simultaneously attempting to tie her hair into a plated braid with each skipping step of her booted feet along the marble floor as your eyes nervously darted to Tommy's office that had now, suddenly gone quiet.

" Ow Mummy, you're hurting me!" Her hand flew to her head in protest as you tried to twist the band around to keep her hair in place.

" I'm sorry darling, but we'll be late for the bus and Mummy's interview if we don't get moving" you winced as the skin of your fingers dragged along the tight elastic, finally pulling the last of her locks through.

" Daddy!" She screeched, turning her head and feet to the sight of Tommy appearing from behind his office door.

Shit.

" Morning princess" a smile grew on his face as she bounded into him, squeezing her little arms around his waist as he shuffled forward from foot to foot until he reached you, inches from making it out the door before the interrogations began.

" Sweetheart" he pressed a longing kiss to the side of your head, hand threading into the locks of your hair as you shrugged away from the charade of a happily married couple he was adamant on maintaining in front of your daughter.

" Car's waiting outside" he said as his fingers settled on Elsie's shoulders stood behind her, her petite hands clutching onto his as his eyes roamed over your choice of outfit.

"But mummy said we're taking the bus" your daughter pouted up to the frown of confusion creasing on Tommy's forehead.

" The bus?" Your husband's eyes darted up to you as you adjusted the bag in your hand, feeling the familiar heat of his piercing stare begin to burn your face.

" I thought you were meeting Linda and Ada to go over her wedding plans?" Tommy's frown stayed firmly knitted between his brows as he watched your fumbling fingers pull out your small silver pocket mirror, wiping the corners of your ruby-stained lips.

"Well, won't you need the car for that?" You heard a heavy sigh of irritation follow his questions at your silence. The small brown haired barrier between you both, stopping him from letting his annoyance slip and forcefully demanding it from you instead. " Y/N?"

" I have somewhere to be first" you snapped the mirror shut as you cleared your throat, when the innocence of your daughter's curious mind revealed your true plans for the day.

" What's an interview?"

Double shit.

"You have a job interview?" Tommy scoffed a stifled laugh of disbelief, shaking his head as his veiny hands straining with annoyance came up to brush down his mouth.

" Something Mummy has no business in doing, Elsie" the tone of his voice deepened, scolding you through his reply to your daughter's inquisitive mind.

You were slipping further away from him with each passing day. Why wasn't he told about this? He was slacking, his men slacking, Tommy thought to himself as his breath became heavy, his shoulders tensing with anger as you continued to ignore his questions to pat the creases that had already begun to appear in your daughter's school dress when Tommy's eyes suddenly darted to the blouse you had chosen, peaking through the open button of your cardigan that had slipped through its hole.

" An interview" he quietly mumbled with a breathy exhale of suspicion as you quickly pulled the front of your top around your chest.

Rising to your feet, your eyes caught sight of his glaring anger in the silence that weighed heavy between you. A stare intent enough to have you believe that it was you, who had done something so atrocious, that it deserved his sour reaction.

" Elsie, what do you think of Mummy's new...clothes?" Tommy broke the tension as his eyes stayed firmly fixed on you, using your daughter to have his displeasure with your outfit made known.

" Pretty" she grinned a toothy smile as her hands reached out to feel the soft fabric. " Like the feather dancers at Uncle Arthur's work" she blushed shyly at the beauty her mother radiated and the many sparkling jewels that adorned your skin she dreamed you'd one day let her wear.

" Thank you, my sweet girl" you stepped forward, brushing your fingers through the locks of her hair when your eyes cast up to the protruding bone of your husband's jaw inches from your face, his heavy breath fanning across your lips.

" Go get your school bag, love" Tommy let go of your daughter's shoulders as she merrily skipped away from the gap he was closing between you.

" Feather dancers. So a whore, then?" He mumbled through gritted teeth as he pulled the front of your cardigan to the side, fingers sweeping under the top of your exposed lingerie. " You gonna whore yourself out for this job too, eh?" He cocked a brow as you pushed past him.

" It's just fabric, Tommy" you straightened your clothes as you waited on your daughter.

" Elsie, come on, let's go" you urgently reached your hand out for her to take as she fumbled with her coat when Tommy abruptly pulled you back into his body.

" What happened to you, hm? I don't even fucking recognise you anymore" you felt his grip tighten around your arm as he quietly voiced his opinion on what he believed was a change in your personality.

"What I wear is no longer your concern, now is it Tommy?" You responded in a hushed voice as you pulled away to your daughter patiently waiting by the door.

"I'll race you there" you smiled down at your dimpled cheeked child as she eagerly nodded her head.

" We have a whole fleet of cars, Y/N. Y/N!" He called after you, hands on hips as he stood at the bottom of the winding stairs. Watching you jog off with your giggling six- year-old before his eyes flew up to the second floor and the paranoia he needed to settle.

" You're late" Linda clicked her tongue, patting the seat beside her as you arrived in a tangled mess of hair, slipping garments and rolling eyes at the soon-to-be Shelby members' orderly manner.

" First, let's go over the itinerary" she pulled out a floral notebook, her fingers scrolling down the many pages or arrangements she had already made for her big day.

" Goodness Linda, can we not have some tea, or perhaps something a little stronger to get us through this joyous occasion" Ada sent you a playful wink as you shrugged off your bag, settling into the chair between them.

" How are you?" Your sister-in-law probed, quickly noting the deep bags of exhaustion under your eyes and the heavy sigh accompanying them. " Let me guess, my dear brother?"

" He went and pulled a Tommy special again, Ada" your hand trembled up to your brow, pinching the six months worth of stress you couldn't seem to rid yourself of.

Shakey hands, sleepless nights, you thought to yourself, burying your fingers under your legs to hide your rattling nerves. Was it all worth it?

" Yes, I did hear about that" she sent you a sympathetic smile of understanding. Knowing the lengths her brother would go to make his point, as he continued to stubbornly dig his heels in.

" I think the whole of Birmingham did" a sudden wave of shame reddened your cheeks with the learnt knowledge that every living soul in the fogged city was now aware of your and Tommy's strained relationship.

"It's been postponed, the...divorce that is" you mumbled, barely able to mutter the catalyst that caused said blaring row. The word alone, causing your stomach to twist into an unbearable ache for the love that was still there for him.

"And your interview, this morning?" Ada's attempt to change the heavy topic of conversation was gratefully welcomed when a smile began to dimple into your cheeks. For your trusted sister-in-law had seen the stress the separation had put on you, been at the brunt end of her brother's phone calls as he accused her of spurring on your decision to end the marriage.

"I got the job" you scooted your hands from their numbing position, fingers brushing a lock of hair behind your ear as she matched the excited grin on your lips.

" I'm meeting him, my boss, for drinks later. To go over the finer details, and in celebration for his newly hired typist...me" you giggled as a surge of confidence bubbled in your stomach at your first step into becoming an independent woman when Ada's smile suddenly dropped.

" Him...drinks?" her eyes began to widen, darting to the side of your cheery smile at the young peaked cap man sat a couple of tables behind, tipping his hat before slipping away.

"Y/N perhaps drinks are not..."

" Ephesians chapter five, verse two..." Linda interjected into the conversation her rosey notebook had taken all her attention with.

" Ada, what is it?" your brow creased, ignoring the beginnings of Linda's religious lecture, her eyes snapping back to you as she swiftly clutched her fingers around your hand.

"Ada?" You quietly mouthed when your gaze drifted over the concern filling her sapphire eyes, the same concern you saw in France's that very morning, the realisation your giddy stupidity had clouded, suddenly hitting you.

It was just a drink to celebrate, he didn't have to know? And if he found out, surely he'd understand? It was a new job, you couldn't turn the offer down, it would be impolite. You were separated...you and Tommy separated.

" Wives, submit to your own husband. As to the lord..." Linda's ill-timed words of advice drifted to you as you released your hand from Ada's clutches.

As the continued martial counsel buzzed relentlessly in your ear, you let your body slump into the cushioned fabric of your chair until the drowning religious verses muffled with the sounds of twirling spoons tapping against their porcelain tea cups, scrapping knives cutting freshly baked cakes until nothingness, complete silence.

How could you have been so stupid? So naive to have thought you could support your daughter on a mere typist's wage? That Tommy wouldn't move heaven and earth before he'd see the likes of you working so closely with another man? That word wouldn't get back to him about your planned drinks?, you thought to yourself as the distant sound of Ada calling your name echoed through each delayed blink of your welling eyes.

Divorce, another one of your stupid ideas, from your stupid list of stupid things you thought you could achieve, you continued your onslaught of self-inflicted insults as a tear rolled down the slope of your cheek.

And the worst thing about it all, about the whole fucking ordeal...you still loved him. Still, hopelessly in love with him. Pathetic, a hand shook your arm as your head cast down, remembering the cascade of decisions that had everything fall apart.

For when you no longer needed the guiding hand of your husband, his opinions nor protection as you began to blossom into a woman and spread your wings, came Tommy's paranoia. Fear of losing you to life's wonders, to another man, your husband's clutches began to tighten to the unbearable point where every waking breath wasn't without him looming behind you.

And yet you soldiered through, the thought of separation too torturous to contemplate as he continued to tighten his chains around you until he pushed you to the point where a tearful outburst had you asking for the dreaded seven letter word, an outburst that finally had you seeing the man your husband had kept in the shadows. The real, Thomas Shelby.

" Flowers. A dozen red roses on each side of the altar. Like the ones my Artie picks for me" Linda's voice suddenly snapped you from your thoughts, her insufferable happiness searing through the stained memories you shared with Tommy.

Maybe she was right after all. Submit to your husband. The only sensible, optional choice. Right?

Bolting two steps at a time to your once shared bedroom, Tommy threw open the door, eyes wide as he scanned the room.

You were seeing someone, fucking someone, he told his raging paranoia as he began to wade through your belongings, pulling your cupboard draws out one by one in search of something, anything that would confirm his suspicions.

" Fuck!" His hand slammed the last drawer shut, finding nothing that would give him the justification to interrupt your days plans and confront you about your lies.

What the fuck was he doing?, he perched himself on the edge of your vanity, fingers threading through his hair as a heavy sigh of exhaustion left his lips. He was losing you, he told himself, burying his head in his hands as he swallowed down the nagging guilt of his own making creeping up his throat.

You loved him, needed him. You were just...Tommy refused to believe otherwise, refused to accept your separation as he pulled a cigarette from within his suit jacket when a smack of reality hit him with the winking shine of your gold wedding ring catching the corner of his eye.

Puffing a cloud of smoke from his lips, Tommy rubbed the small band between his fingers, lifting it to his face to see his engraved initials entwined with yours inside of its metal frame.

Was that when you began to distance yourself from him? After your wedding? When you no longer sought out his advice, cared to sit and watch him work, choosing rather to meet new people, go new places without him? To... modernise? he cleared the bitter taste of resentment from his throat, clutching the lone piece of jewellery within his hand, clutching onto the remnants of your marriage for dear life before tossing it onto the table for all to see like you had your marriage.

" Just what are you up to, hm?" Tommy's distrust quickly returned, feeling hurt by the sight of your wedding ring laid cold on its ornate tray as he picked up the small photo frame of you and Elsie he had taken on a trip to Brighton many moons ago.

" You better not be lying to me darling. You know what happens when..." Tommy's eyes drifted from your portrait to the mug of cold tea sat on your vanity. It's distinct smell, awakening his senses and anger in one quick, sweeping moment.

Ginger.

Commonly used for insomnia. But also consumed in regular doses as a form of contraception. A tea Tommy would tease you about in your early years of dating with it's uselessness as you refused to rely on his preferred, and most notoriously unreliable method of, pulling out.

It had been many months since you and Tommy had shared your martial bed, many months since you basked in the warmth of each other's bodies.

You weren't fucking him. So who were you sleeping with?, Tommy seethed at the idea of another man touching you that wasn't him, all logical thinking swiftly taken over by a blazing fury behind the viscous storm brewing behind his eyes at the lies he was convinced you had told him. Lies he'd get to the bottom of before the day was over.

" My car, now!"

Next Part coming soon!

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219 @whereismymindnow

[seungfl0wer]

*𝑰𝒕𝒔 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒏𝒅?*

Pairing: Chan x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Angst (small suggestive)

Warnings: Arguing, slightly suggestive, slight mentions of squirting, Slight happy ending. Sorry for any mistakes or missing warnings.

This came from 2 requests you can find here

-🖤

Knocking on your boyfriend’s door you hear him grumbling as he makes his way to the door. “Yeah?” He says seemingly annoyed at you interrupted his work.

“Babe come on you’ve been working for hours, can’t you just take a break?” You pleaded.

“No. I have alot to do still” he said.

“Chris please? I’ve barely saw you since you got back from the work trip.”

“Y/n I said I can’t. I have work to do. Stop bothering me ok?” He said before shutting the door.

It’s been like this for the past month or so. Honestly from the past few months you can count on one hand how many times he’s spent time with you. It’s been eating at you lately. Feeling like you’re a bother, like he just doesn’t love you anymore. You’ve tried to understand and you have for the most part. His job is taxing and demanding however he use to make time for you. Now it just seems like you’re an after thought.

You let out a big sigh before knocking again. He ignored it. So you knocked again. He swung open the door glaring at you eyes looking like they could kill. “I told you to leave me alone” he hissed.

“Christopher. You use to make time for us. You use to take breaks and would unwind with me. Why can’t you do that anymore huh?” You said not backing down this time.

“Y/n I can’t make time for you and be a good bread winner there’s no way.” He retorted back.

“So what then? I don’t ever get to spend time with you? Your jobs always gonna come first?” You spat.

“YES.” He said bluntly. You could see the vein popping from his forehead.

“So what’s the fucking point of dating then huh? It’s like we’re fucking roommates.” You said with a small croak. You felt like you could cry.

He looked at you, you could tell he was angry but was it for your words or because you were taking precious time away from his work. “Then maybe we should just end things” he said coldly towards you. Before you could get another word in he shut the door. You felt the tears pricking at your eyes before turning toward the bedroom. 3 years. 3 years down the fucking drain.

You cried grabbing a few things and throwing them in a bag. You called your friend up knowing they had an extra room. When he came to pick you up he was about ready to walk into that house and give Chan a piece of his mind but you talked him out of it. He sped off to the apartment. “I can’t believe that fucking asshole” he said gritting his teeth. “Who fucking-“ his hands gripping the steering wheel. “Who fucking does that shit with someone theyre supposed to love”

When you got to his place you plopped yourself into the spare room asking for some space. Your mind floated around with all the happy times you had. Smiling a bit remember how when you first met he was so shy. Fumbling over his words when he asked you out. Remembering how you made the first move to kiss him how red his ears got when you did. How he was the first one to say I love you and all the good morning texts you had saved full of love.

You remembered the first time you were intimate. How he was so nervous, afraid he couldn’t make you feel good. Only to have you trembling under him after making you squirt for the first time ever in your life. He was so proud of himself. He didn’t even care he only lasted a few minutes.

You can’t believe it was all over. All the words he had said all the talks about getting married and such just tossed like garbage. Was it really that easy to toss you to the side like that? Were you the reason he became distant?

A few days had passed before you went back. Knowing Chan was gonna be working you took the opportunity to take the rest of your stuff. Leaving anything he had gotten you there. You didn’t notice though he was home. His office was doing work from home today to try and catch up on something’s. With the last box in your hand making your way towards the door you were greeted by Chan coming out from the room. His eyes widened when he saw you. You made no effort to say anything just walking past him.

“Y/n” he said walking behind you.

“What” you said coldly slipping your shoes back on.

“I- listen I’m sorry for how I handled things.” He said looking down at your box. “Wait are you moving your stuff out?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You said bluntly before opening the door. “You’ll have all the time in the world now. Take care of yourself Chan.” You said before leaving.

He stood there his mouth gaped open. He couldn’t believe things were really ending. He didn’t think you’d actually leave. Here he was though, nothing left of you. He through himself into his work even more now. Keeping himself busy. He couldn’t believe he did this. He let the best thing of his life go. No. No. This is what he wanted. He could do so much more with out the worry of you around now. Or that’s at least what he told himself.

You on the other hand worked on yourself. You got yourself out there. You got a raise at your job and moved up in positions. You moved from your friend’s place to a nice little house. You were thriving.

A few months into being here you found comfort in your neighbors. They were all so kind and sweet always sharing food together and having get togethers. That’s what brings you to now. You had accident fallen for the man who lived right beside you. Neither of you intentionally tried to but you both just connected so well. He was so kind, so down to earth. He was a big ceo of his job. Passed down to him from his father however by looking at him you’d never think that.

He didn’t show off his wealth. He was just a normal guy who liked to come to your place and make dinner with you while you played stupid trivia games. When he finally asked you out he knew you’d be hesitant telling you “you don’t have to say yes right now but just do it in the next few days so I can tell my dad I finally did it” he said his cheeks all pink.

When you finally did say yes though he was over the moon. As if you just said I do to him on your wedding day. You scoffed to yourself seeing how he always made time for you. He rarely ever said no to you even pushing back meetings to do little things with you. He was so love struck by you.

Chan on the other hand missed you a lot. He’d now and again take your pillow cuddling into it as if it was you. Fuck. He missed you. He tried dating but no one had that spark he felt with you those years ago. Where did he go wrong?

Today was you and your boyfriend’s first year anniversary. He brought you to the carnival one of the places you both loved to come. He always loved winning you prizes trying his best to get you every single one you wanted. He also just loved having you clinging to him around so many people. It filled him with pride to have everyone know you were his. “Hey beautiful I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick ok? Will you order for me?” He said with a smile kissing you softly. You nodded as he walked away.

Chan couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you standing in line. Was it really you? He has only come here because of his friends trying to get him out. He grumbled the whole time however seeing you he perked up. “Y/n?” He said softly.

Your head spun to meet his gaze looking at him with almost sadness. He didn’t look like he’d taken care of himself. His once perfect hair all messy, clothes not as neat as they use to be. You could tell he’s lost weight too.

“Oh hi Chris.” You said

“Hey it’s been awhile. What uhm brings you here?” He asked trying to make small talk.

Before you answered the lady asked for your order. As you gave it to her Chan seemed a bit confused at what you ordered. You always hated corn dogs, why were you getting one?

Chan ordered standing off to the side as you both waited.

“It’s nice to see you again” he said softly.

“Yeah, nice to see you too” you said.

Your boyfriend was making his way back towards you. He smiled that big goofy smile of his before slinking his arm around you.

“Look what I found” he said grinning ear to ear as he pulled out a stuffed animal you’ve been searching for.

“No fucking way!” You said smiling you gave him a big hug as he kissed the top of your head.

“Anything for my love” he said.

Chan watched his stomach twisting as he realized you had moved on. Something also clicked in his head. “You’re the CEO of big name right?” He said his voice sounding surprised.

“Oh yeah” he chuckled. “That’s me”

Chan looked at him and back at you “how are you here? Aren’t you like swamped with work?” He asked.

Your boyfriend chuckled some more “nah and even if I was I wouldn’t miss today for the world.” He said squeezing you softly.

“Today’s our year anniversary, so I took the whole week off, even moved meetings just so I could give this pretty lady all my attention” he said. If he would have know who he was talking to he’d probably yell at him for what he did however you didn’t want to be the bear of bad news.

“Oh oh babe I’m gonna grab a shake meet me by the table yeah? I’ll get your favorite” he said kissing you once more before strolling off.

“So there’s really no chance we could get back together is there” Chan blurted out.

You felt a bit confused “Chris. I think you need to focus on yourself before you can ever think about dating again.”

“So there’s a chance we could?” He said hopeful.

“I’m sorry Chris. But I’m happy. He makes time for me. He doesn’t make me feel like a burden”

The lady calls out your order, you grab it before walking away you look at him one more time. “I’m sorry Chris, a part of me of course will always love you however we don’t mix well. Please just take care of yourself ok?” You said before walking away.

He felt a pit in his stomach like he wanted to vomit. He couldn’t believe how happy you looked I mean you were glowing. Your boyfriend seemed to be so secure proving him wrong about being able to make time. He cursed at himself but he knew you didn’t want him back you’ve made that pretty clear through the months. He was just sad he was to late that this was really the end. He watched as you smiled and laughed. Although the pit in his stomach stayed he felt a bit of happiness knowing you were being taken care of. Something he should have done better of.

Your words although same as before rung in his head. ‘Take care of yourself’ he realized he hasn’t been. He realized he hasn’t even had time to properly think. He felt a sense of acceptance as he took his food and left. He was gonna work on himself. Make himself the man he was before, before he was consumed by his work.

“Did you know that guy?” Your boyfriend ask.

You nod “yeah, just someone I use to know”

“Hmm well he better not try and steal you away or I’ll fight” he teased lifting his fists up.

It made you laugh. Although you’ll always love Chan. You couldn’t ask for anyone better. Your boyfriend would move the world for you if it meant you’d be happy. And you were. You were so happy.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp

[elizzsush]

I love you?| Tim Drake X Reader

Tim Drake X Reader

— How can you mourn someone you never truly knew?

AU: None Rating: SFW

Note: Check out this post for context! Tim is a bit of a stalker, but he always has been so its in character. ________________________________

The first thing Tim ever did after meeting you was run a background check.

It had become second nature at that point. A habit he picked up when he was younger that just stuck. Tim had an obsessive personality, so it was a natural habit- or maybe he forced this habit on himself. He's always been one to bite off more than he can chew and then force himself too sallow.

You checked all the boxes. Funny, beautiful, nice to be around, easy to get along with, clean background, you could handle yourself in a fight. You told him you took self defense classes which made sense in Gotham- and had a promising future. Everything a Wayne would be expected to look for in a partner.

It was a bonus that you had a crush on him. It made it easy.

Tim Drake, the smart and handsome boy in your class. It was natural that when he asked you to go out with him, you'd say yes.

Tim was a pretty calculated person, because of his... nighttime activities he had also gotten into the habit of never allowing much room for error. He planned ahead to even minor details.

It was because of all these things you and Tim began your relationship.

“We had a date… We’re are you?” Another reason you and Tim stayed together. You were unbelievably patient. He saw it when he came rushing into the nice restaurant he booked for the two of you- regular clothes and a hastily bought slightly ruined bouquet. All while you sat in a nice dress, a half eaten meal in front of you. You weren’t the type to blow up and get upset, you kept your feelings inside and that worked for him.

Funnily- err, no… horribly enough, Tim never told you why he was late for every other date. Instead he choose a simpler much easier route. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t find my keys.”

It worked because no matter how shallow or hard to believe the lies were… you took them. Took them and smiled while you tried to forget about it and enjoy the rest of the night with your boyfriend.

Often it felt like going through the motions with you. You’d smile and enjoy the time you spent with the boy and then wave him goodbye. Being with Tim… it felt so surface level. It felt lonely… Gifts were used as an excuse to not spend real… physical time with you. So, you’d just smile at the flowers you got at your door and the teddy bear, even if they were stereotypical nonpersonal things to give a partner.

While you didn’t know If you loved your own boyfriend, you knew you admired him. You admired how he kept himself in shape despite how busy he was, how he managed all his work with the side projects he kept up with- how he juggled his family. All of it. You admired how he seemed to work for what he had.

You admired how he always seemed so tired. Too tired to properly hide the aspects he didn't want you to see. But you chose to not see them. Not let him know you saw through it. Not giving anything away he didn't want.

Still, all those things kept him so… distant. Like a wall being put up in front of you, hiding him away.

Would it be clingy to tell him to call more?

He was already so busy; how did he juggle you with his life? It seemed hard. At times you thought he was cheating on you but with how public he and you were… it was a fleeting thought. Did Tim even enjoy the time you two did have together?

You’d often question your relationship with the Wayne boy.

You questioned a lot of things. Some you’d question only later. Later when you awoke from the coma that… that monster put you in.

But before that... before any of that. “Catwomen got your tongue?” You’d giggle and poke the boy's shoulder. He was definitely upset today; you'd blame the lack of sleep- he blames your curiosity. “Hey, talk to me..?”

“I’m sorry, I’m kind of busy right now.” He frowned slapping your hand your touch away and you could only pout to hide the hurt in your chest.

.

.

The first time Tim held you hand your cheeks hurt from smiling.

.

.

The worst part of everything to Tim. He didn't even know if he did love you.

There was exactly ten times Tim wished he told you it. Once he did, mostly to get you off his back. Did that make him a horrible person?

He liked you. He liked how easy you were. He liked how you trusted him. He liked how you let him lie to you. He liked how your felt against him, how you would get up to get him another energy drink instead of nagging him about his health. Not that you weren't concerned about the amount of caffeine he consumed you had been clear you were...

He liked when he was a little more careless, having you against him while he typed away on his computer. You holding his drink for him, head on his shoulder, just tired enough to not see what he was really working on. he thought at least... He liked having you against him when he got back... When he saw you again he liked having you around. He enjoyed feeling you against him, your skin on his... Hold you close and just... feel. Feel your body heat against his when he'd get back from patrolling those cold Gotham nights. Rip that same old suit off and climb into bed, embrace that skin to skin contact he so easily grew addicted too.

It was a funny joke with Gothamites that Tim Drake, the son of Bruce Wayne was a coffee addict. Tim had an obsessive personality, so it wasn't out of character. Every post with him in it had a mug, which never helped with the so-called rumors.

As he scrolled on his phone, he didn't even notice the mugs slowly disappearing. Instead, you were on his arm in every photo... Huh...

He didn't know if he loved you. He probably never would anymore... He probably didn't. I mean, what kind of man scrolls on his phone while holding the hand of their supposed lover? Especially when you were hooked up to wires...

But, it hurt too look at you. See you in that state. Not knowing if you'd wake up. The ache in his chest... It lessened when he adverted his eyes and stared at his phone.

If his touch was the sun, you were the earth. If he was your sun, that meant he failed you. When the sun combusts, the earth will die, and the sun combusted, broke under the pleasure.

He should've been a better boyfriend...

If he was, he would have at least known what kind of flowers to bring you...

Roses... felt too basic. To... impersonal.

___________________________________________

A/N: I hate hate hate hate my writing! Bleh. This all felt tooooo flat.