#she likes to stand up when she's waiting for something and watching whoever she's waiting for

[chaoscreaturewrites]

Call of duty, ghost, cute meet, fluff

Bus stop encounter with Simon

Summary:A adorable lil bird saves the day by giving him a lighter as they wait by the bus stop. Cute meet turns into cute pinning, he hopes he sees her again

WC:872

It's drizzling like always, another grey London day. He's waiting by the bus stop sign since there's already a few people crowding the bench. He goes to light a cigarette but the lighter only sputters a few sparks before it dies all together. He mumbles curses under his breath. 

She noticed the big guy instantly, it wasn't just his size that made you feel his presence, there was something else about him she just couldn't name but also couldn't ignore. 

The dying clicks of a lighter catch her attention, she finds their source is him, the big guy. One of her rules of interacting with the world is to not to, especially If they are like 3 times your size but call this a special occasion, cause she's approaching him.

She digs around in her bag, grabbing the first lighter she finds and taps the big man's forearm.

She instantly regrets her bold move to interact with others as she's faced with the hard glare looking down at her. She gulps, her palms sweating, all she can do now is get this over with quickly. She holds up her hand, displaying the lighter to him, just kinda shoving it in his direction hoping this gets her point across, while she looks anywhere but up at him. 

Lighter dieing, not getting his smoke, and crowded bus stop, this all put him in a not so great mood. So being pestered but some idiot probably asking directions was the last thing he needed. He turned to face whoever tapped him but instead of some idiot, he was faced with an adorable lil thing, offering up a lighter. He'd never seen someone decorate a disposable lighter before, wondering why you'd take the time to do that, but that only made her more fascinating. Her eclectic look, colorful hair, spiked leather jacket,diy-ed messenger bag, taking that all in, it makes sense even her lighters would be decorated.

He carefully takes the lighter  from her palm and hastily lights his cigarette, oh he needed that. He goes to hand the lighter back but she shakes her head, refusing to take it.

“ keep it I have plenty”

So he accepts and tucks it away safely in his pocket. He watches as she scooches back under the canopy. He wonders how he didn't notice her before, as if she had been invisible, because now he could never not spot her. He wonders what other trinkets and handmade charms are in her bag. Wonders if she hands out lighters to just anyone or if this was special, did she see him as special?

He takes a seat in the back of the bus, from there he can see anything that goes down. Once all settled he pulls the lighter out to take a closer look at it. It's been handprinted, bedazzled, and even a lil key chain loop added, how interesting. 

He looks up, curious to lay eyes on her again, she's already wormed her way into his mind, with such a small interaction. He sees some guys are bothering her, she looks frozen, petrified. 

He can't just sit by and watch this, silently he comes up behind the guys, reaches between them and places a hand on her shoulder. 

“ There you are, come with me”

His offer, well not an offer really, more of a command looks like her best shot out of this crap situation so she takes it. When she gets up the guys bothering her step aside, as if trying to shrink away from the big stanger. 

She steps past them out into the aisle, Simon guides her to step in front of him, using his body as a shield between her and them as they make their way to the back of the bus. 

He sits and pats the seat next to him, trying to ease the tension clearly written on her features. Poor lil bird doesn't handle stress well, he hopes he's not adding to it.  She sits, holding her bag on her lap, her fingers playing with one of the many trinkets hanging from the straps. 

“ Thank you”

“ No problem”

“ Why don't you stand up for yourself?”

“ Trying usually ends up making it worse, i don't do well with confrontation”

He gets it, the world is a whole different place for her, she can't approach it and problem solve it the way he does. She can't use size and fear to intimidate and beat up problems, just sitting through it, not getting hurt seems the best she can hope for. That realization saddens him a bit, he knows that once he's gone someone else will come along and pester her. Maybe he could give her his number, maybe some way he could be her shield again but before he even gets the chance it's her stop and he's watching her walk away. She even gives him a little wave when their eyes meet and a smile that makes his heart beat just a bit faster. 

The rest of his ride he thinks about her as his fingers trail over the lighter, he just hopes he runs into her again, maybe then he can act in time to become part of her life. 

[just1cefor4ll]

—Wait, you know MCR?!

Sirius Black x f!reader

summary. Sirius Black—loud, reckless, and stupidly cocky. Yet, somehow, you form an unexpected friendship with him. Beneath his brash exterior, he finds peace in your calm presence, and a quiet bond slowly grows.

A/N. if you’d like to be added to the taglist, dm me, let me know in my inbox or comment under this post!

part 1 || part 2

Sirius Black had never truly had a serious relationship during his 6 years at hogwarts. It was either a one time thing or he got bored of the girl just a few days into the relationship. No spark had ever lasted long enough to catch fire.

His friends knew this better than anyone. They often joked about it, teased him for his lack of commitment, and sometimes even took it upon themselves to “find the one” for him. But the girl—whoever she was meant to be—was never found.

Well.. at least not by them.

Sirius was walking to his Care of Magical Creatures class, today they were learning about merpeople who reside in the schools Black Lake. It wasn’t something that completely peaked his interest but it wasn’t boring to him either.

Professor Kettleburn had allowed the students to bring blankets to sit on while he explained the lesson, but naturally, that little detail had completely escaped Black’s notice—leaving him standing awkwardly, glaring at the rocky ground in annoyance. That was, until he saw you—sat alone, utterly absorbed in the class as if it were the juiciest bit of gossip one could possibly overhear. Amused, he smiled and made his way over, crouching down beside you. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the space next to you. You— althought hesitant at first—nodded, shifting over a little before turning your full attention back to the professor’s rambling once more.

His gaze remained fixed—not on the lake, not on the textbook now half-buried in his satchel, but on you. Your eyes, the shape of your nose, the way your hair framed your face like it had been drawn that way. There was something ethereal about you—something quietly beautiful.

He watched you the way ancient Greeks might have watched Aphrodite rise from the sea—half in awe, half in disbelief that someone so beautiful could exist so casually in front of him.

“Do you always stare like that?” you asked, your eyes still on Professor Kettleburn.

Sirius blinked, caught off guard. Then a grin curled onto his lips. “Only when there’s something worth staring at.”

You looked at him properly this time. Not long. Not with any kind of reaction he could pin down. Just a look. Enough to let him know you’d heard the line—and weren’t particularly impressed.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Black.”

Sirius blinked, a half-second slower than usual, caught a little off guard.

You didn’t look at him when you spoke. “What’s the matter? Surprised I know your name and didn’t throw myself at you?” That earned a small huff of laughter from him. “A little, yeah. Usually there’s more—” he paused, searching for the word, “—fanfare.” You tilted your head slightly, the corners of your mouth lifting in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I don’t make a habit of applauding people for existing.”

He studied you then, properly. You weren’t rude—just honest. And not the kind of honest that tried to make a point. You simply said what you meant and left it at that.

He liked that. It made him curious. And curiosity had always killed the cat.

The class wrapped up, students starting to gather their things and wander off. You stood, grabbing all of your belongings before dusting off your cloak and started up the hill without a backward glance.

Sirius hesitated. He was meant to stay behind and meet his friends—who all had a free period—but something tugged at him, as though an invisible hand had nudged him forward. Before he could think twice, he was striding after you, falling into step beside you with such ease it felt.. natural.

“Shouldn’t you be heading to your own class?” You glanced at him, faint amusement in your tone as you caught the curious glint in the Gryffindor boy’s eyes.

He gave a lopsided smile and shrugged. “I thought it’d be rather rude to let a lady walk alone after bothering her.” That earned him a smile, and you nodded. Silence settled between you, but being in the presence of Sirius Black meant that peace wouldn’t last long. “You’re unusual,” he blurted out suddenly, his cheeks tinged with pink. He winced inwardly at how it sounded. You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “Thank Merlin. I’d much rather be that than ordinary.”

He looked relieved, emboldened even. “No, I didn’t mean it badly,” he added quickly. “It’s just—you don’t do what everyone else does. You don’t seem to want to fit into this perfect mold most do.”

“That’s because I don’t feel the need to be like everyone else, as cheesy as it sounds,” you said plainly, the corner of your mouth quirking. “What good would it do me?”

He let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, I get what you mean. Never saw the point in being picture perfect when I can just be myself and fuck around with my mates.”

After a brief pause, he added, “You know, you’re not like any girl I’ve met here.”

You raised a brow, half-teasing. “And what sort of girls do you usually meet, Black?”

He smirked, eyes glinting. “Most girls want something—flattery, a bit of fun, maybe to say they’ve had a go at charming a Black. I don’t really know. But you—you don't even flinch when I talk. I think I like that.”

You let out a small hum of consideration, letting the breeze tousle your hair. “Maybe I just haven’t figured out what I want from you yet.”

That made him pause mid-step. When you glanced back at him, there was something unreadable in your gaze. Sirius blinked, then grinned—slow and genuine.

“Well,” he said, catching up again, “you’ll have to let me know when you do.”

Neither of you spoke again—not because there was nothing to say, but because the silence had shifted into something companionable. Something comfortable.

As you reached your classroom, your paths would part.

You paused first, turning to him with a faint, knowing smile. “I appreciated the company, Black.”

He gave a casual shrug, though there was something softer behind his eyes. “Anytime.”

You lingered for just a heartbeat longer before stepping away, disappearing into the corridor that would take you to your next class.

Sirius stood there for a moment, hands shoved deep into his pockets, watching the spot where you’d gone.

And though he would never admit it aloud—not to James, Remus, to Peter, not even to himself—he hoped you’d want something from him, eventually.

The next few weeks, he’d see you in that same class, the Great Hall or simply walking through the endless halls of Hogwarts.

You two would chat from time to time, although Sirius would be the one doing most of the talking—

—It was a quiet evening by Hogwarts standards, the Great Hall buzzing with its usual clamour of clinking cutlery, echoing laughter, and chatter from every corner. You’d slipped away from the chaos of the students, opting instead for a stone bench tucked just along the corridor outside, half-hidden behind a suit of armour. The low hum of distant voices bled softly through the open doors, but out here, it was far more peaceful.

Sirius found you not long after, as if he’d been expecting you to be there.

“You’ve a habit of vanishing, you know that?” he said lightly, leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded as he watched you with that half-curious, half-amused expression he wore so well.

“I wasn’t aware I was being tracked,” you replied, glancing up from your book. The candlelight from the sconces along the corridor cast warm shadows across his face, softening the sharpness in his eyes.

“Not tracked,” he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just.. noticed. You sort of stand out by being the only person going out of the hall when everyone else is going in.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Is that what counts as charm in your circle?”

“Absolutely. We’re refined gentlemen,” he said, mockingly formal, before relaxing again. You chuckled, shaking your head. “You must all be exhausting in the same room.” “Oh definitely. James usually swoons over Lily, Peter is.. a bit dimwitted and Remus is just trying to keep us all under control. Would be a lie if he didn’t cause a bit of trouble here and there thought.” You nod, closing your book you’ve long forgotten about. “Sounds like quite the friendship.”

Sirius smiled, a fondness in his expression that softened some of the usual bravado. “It is. Messy, ridiculous, a bit reckless.. but it’s real. They’re more like brothers, really.”

You looked at him, the edges of your smile still lingering. “You speak about them like you really love them.”

“I do,” he said, simply. Then, after a short pause, he added, “But it’s nice to have someone calmer like you when things get overwhelming.”

Your gaze met his, steady and warm. “I’m glad.”

He nodded, eyes still on you.

There was a beat of silence, not awkward, but expectant—like something unsaid was hanging between you.

You turned back to your book. “You’re welcome to sit, you know.”

He glanced at the spot beside you, then shook his head. “No offence, but I don’t think I could sit still long enough. This—” he tapped the wall behind him, “—feels more like my speed.”

You smirked faintly. “Restless soul.”

“Reckon it’s part of my charm.” His voice softened a touch. “Do you ever go in to eat? I barely see you in there.”

“Sometimes. But it’s quieter out here.”

“Too many eyes in there?”

You hesitated, then nodded. “Something like that.”

He didn’t press. Instead, he let the moment stretch, gaze flicking to the book in your lap.

“What’re you reading?”

You held it up for him to see. “Shakespear.”

“Love sick soul?” He teased, mocking your former statement. You laughed—soft, but enough to draw his full attention again. His smile in return was subtle, warm, and just a bit smug, like he'd won something small but meaningful.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said eventually, pushing off the wall. “But I’ll be around. In case you ever fancy some company that’s slightly more talkative than your book.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

He gave you a final nod, that ever-present grin lingering on his lips as he disappeared back into the Hall.

© just1cefor4all— I don’t consent to my writing being reposted to other platforms or fed into AI. Translating it is also strictly prohibited. 🚫

taglist: no one yet …

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're a Star Masterlist // Pornstar Satoru headcanons

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three

Pairings- Pornstar Satoru x shy f!reader

Summary- You meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, insanely out of place, waiting for your friend to show up. The two of you hit it off, spending time together, and share a kiss, but you're a good girl, and you just don't do this, but he is the top pornstar there is, and the top .01 % on OnlyFans. Once you find out, you know there's probably no match, as Satoru doesn't date, and you don't sleep around, but after meeting, you keep in touch- and soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream.

Warnings- mentions of sex and sexwork, masturbation, mentions of drug use, weed smoking, Gojo has an OF hehe, lots of longing, pining, Satoru can't get hard if it's not you, whipped ass Satoru, explicit sexual content, angst - WC 32k 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 Playlist -Ao3 link-Headcanons below!

Pornstar Satoru is one of the most famous pornstars there are, hence him constantly wearing jet black shades and hoodies at times, he never knew just who he'd run into that would recognize him. Whether it's his flicks or his OF - he's the top .01 % - he gets a lot of notice, especially in bustling LA. But, he loves what he does, he especially loves watching his abs flex in the camera as he hits one of his lovely costars from the back.

Pornstar Satoru loves making the costars and girls he collabs with actually cum, where they're shaking and squirting all over his latex covered cock. Not that fake shit like he watches them do with other men- no Satoru makes sure to slam that curved tip against their cervix, to roll his thumb right on their clit with the perfect amount of pressure. Perhaps that's the secret to how famous he really is, along with his good looks.

Pornstar Satoru makes so much money from each shoot and is in high demand, so he can have whoever he wants as a co star. They line up to have a chance at him, watching his videos and aching for a chance to feel his cock hitting them deeper than damn near anyone could hit, to say they got to shoot with the Satoru Gojo. This just makes Satoru fuck them harder, smiling right at that camera, as women dream it's really them that have captured his pretty blue eyed gaze.

Pornstar Satoru thinks it's a pretty damn good life, being rich for fucking beautiful women on camera, as he's inhaling a blunt after a threesome shoot with his best friend - and often costar- Pornstar Suguru, as they talk about who got the girl to squirt more, right in the middle of a bouguie party in East LA. Suguru let's out a throaty laugh, while Satoru narrows his blue eyes. 'I had her cumming so hard she was shaking' he says, taking a hit and handing it back to Suguru. 'Nah, that was all for me, did you see...'

Pornstar Satoru stops listening when he sees you enter the room, completely out of place at the coke filled, booze filled party, wearing a pair of black glasses that cover half of your pretty face, and a little nervous look as you stand there, in a cute white pleated skirt and a big oversized sweater. Satoru smacks Suguru on the shoulder then and he coughs up smoke. 'Shit what is it?' Satoru looks back at you, when you're handed a drink, some guy flirting as you look down shyly. 'Who's she?' Suguru blinks a bit curiously. 'I don't know, she's pretty though'

Pornstar Satoru scowls at Suguru who snorts in laughter then. 'Satoru we don't have 'girlfriends' and she... looks like a good girl' your eyes catch his then, across the room, like something shifts as you smile sweetly, before peering at your phone, biting your lip in concentration. 'I'm talking to her' Suguru chuckles as he watches his friend, and Satoru feels his heart race when he comes too close to you, something he can't say he's felt, even pleasing countless beauties, nothing has quite altered him as your sweet turn of lips, as you look down at your converse, so out of place you're fucking adorable. 'Hey sweetheart... Satoru Gojo' he says, introducing himself with ease, expecting you to maybe notice him, get starstruck, fuck women get wet just near him, but you simply grin, and your name whispers through his mind when it spills from your lips.

Pornstar Satoru has you sitting with him later, you fall into easy conversation, you're a little gamer nerd, you love science and the environment, he just bets you were head of your ecology club in college, which you quickly confirm, all while you're in awe of just how beautiful this man is. He's sweet, he's sexy... you feel he shouldn't even be talking to you. You're pretty but... he's experienced so clearly, by every way he moves, he's worldly, so confident, and you've never really left this little part of LA, but the two of you can't stop talking, to the point you forget what brought you here.

Pornstar Satoru laughs with you, as you're sitting side by side, and he lights up a blunt, leaning back on the burgundy couch on the outskirts of the party, inhaling it deep into his lungs. 'Want a hit, sweets?' he murmurs, you take it nervously, putting it to your lips and inhaling a bit, before coughing, covering your mouth. Satoru chuckles, 'you're cute' earning your cheeks heating up. 'Can you tell I don't do this?' you're nervously tapping your leg now. 'Yeah, what does bring you here, doesn't seem your...' 'my scene?' he nods then. 'yeah, that.'

Pornstar Satoru watches avidly as you sip on your drink, wincing at the strong liquor. 'Well, my friend invited me over, but she's running late' Satoru grins now. 'Party time is different, everyone comes late, that's on time. About fifteen minutes late' 'oh no I came early!' you smack your own forehead, giggling along with him. 'Are you like... a model, or an actor?' you ask, eyeing him and his baby blues, the cheekbones so perfect, those lips that wrap the blunt again. 'You could say I'm a bit of both,' he muses, then spits out his drink when you ask 'what are you in!?'

Pornstar Satoru coughs just a bit, he's never been ashamed of what he does, but he's nervous for some reason to tell you. Why, he doesn't know. 'I'm... into some indie flicks' you brighten up then. 'Oh, let me know, I love lowkey films! I bet you're great' Satoru sighs, gulping down the rest of his drink and eyeing your cup. 'Want more?' you frown now, maybe you're asking too much, or offending this actor that you don't recognize him!? You nod, the amount of people around you making you press against this friendly, pretty white haired stranger just a little more.

Pornstar Satoru has another drink, eyeing the sea of bodies undulating in the extravagant mansion, and soon the two of you are dancing together you're cute and so awkward, Satoru's enjoying this far, far too much. He has plenty of costars and fans come up to the two of you, but he's too interested in showing you how to move your hips to pay them any mind, when finally your friend comes. Satoru instantly recognizes her, she's a pretty famous co star he's collabed with on her Onlyfans not long ago. When she sees you giggling and enjoying yourself so much, she damn near drags you away, making Satoru curse.

Pornstar Satoru eyes you when your friend whispers in your ear- 'you really don't recognize him!?' you blink curiously, looking at him more closely. 'Should I?' she sighs then, eyeing Satoru up and down. 'He was in my OF videos, we collabed' you heat up furiously then. 'I never watched your videos! I just subbed to be supportive!' she giggles. 'You're so cute, I thought you at least watched some?' you shake your head nervously. 'I don't really watch, is he... like an OnlyFans guy?' Satoru is back over with Suguru now, while you sip your drink, feeling your body warm up. 'He's the top pornstar there is, the collab was like a dream. He's really sweet but you should know is all, you're kinda...' you glare. 'kinda what?' she giggles again. 'you're just... sweet, emotional, is all'

Pornstar Satoru expects you to be done with him once you find out, after all you just seem innocent, uncorrupted for this city, not the kind of girl to be at this party where lines are being snorted off bodies, and people are naked and jumping in the pools, a heady, wild atmosphere. But you smile at him, as you murmur - 'he's sweet?' to your friend. She nods then. 'He is, but just know... he doesn't date so, it'd only be physical' you frown at that now, that's not something you think you can do, you're about as demisexual as it gets, hence your very limited experience. 'He doesn't date at all?' Your friend gently touches your shoulder. 'No, love, I'd hate to see you hurt'

Pornstar Satoru catches you before you leave later that night, when you are just feeling too out of place, his big hand wrapped around your delicate wrist, earning you looking up at him. He can't stop thinking how pretty your eyes would look rolled back, how good your lips would feel wrapped around his cock, as you relax a bit, turning and looking up. 'Headed out already?' he asks softly, you flush as you remember just what he does for a living, your friend had just described his cock in far too vivid detail. 'It's not really my thing, but I'm glad we met, Gojo' you smile so cute then, leaning up and pecking him on the cheek, his arm wraps your waist as he leans down, inhaling that sweet vanilla scent cloying to your skin.

Pornstar Satoru pulls you in closer, blue eyes staring under snowy lashes. 'Can I... get your number?' Satoru has never asked for a number a day in his life, but he delights in watching you shift nervously, nodding as you tuck your hair behind your ear. 'Yeah, I'd like that' he exchanges numbers, tilting your chin up then, watching the way your eyes dilate, the color spread on your pretty cheeks. 'She told you?' you clear your throat, nodding a bit, still being captured by his fingers. 'I don't judge at all, Gojo, I'd still like to be... friends...' your whisper is met with the most subtle kiss on your lips, shooting desire hot and heavy until Satoru releases you, plump lips smirking- 'sure, sweets, we can be friends'

Pornstar Satoru can't get you off his mind, the feel of your skin on his, the sweet sigh against his lips. He is on a big shoot and - the Satoru Gojo that never gets soft - is having trouble keeping it up, to the amusement of his costar Pornstar Sukuna. Satoru scowls at his comments, just picturing your sweet lips against his for that brief moment. A man who just fucks and fucks, and doesn't feel, is hung up just on some fucking kiss. He has to take a break after pleasing his costar with his fingers, she's cumming so much she doesn't notice, but the directors wonder why he's off. He's in his own dressing room, eyeing the phone, hands shaking as he decides to type a message - 'could you give me a picture, sweets, to save as your caller id?'

Pornstar Satoru finds his cock is right back on hard when you send one quickly, just a cute selfie with a little peace sign, but he sees your glossy fucking lips, the teeth indentations he aches to rub the tip of his cock on, along with just a hint of your breasts. Your nipples press against the thin material of your little tee shirt- Pokemon, he notices, smiling- his cock throbbing. 'Can I get one too?' you're biting that lower lip nervously as you ask, getting a picture of him shirtless then, doing nothing to stifle the curiosity in your mind, your heart racing as you seee his body. 'You at a shoot?' you ask in the messages, he hesitates before answering - 'yes' - and somehow you feel jealous of whoever his costar is. You message a - kill it, Gojo! - despite the feeling in your tummy, little do you know you're drowning his fucking mind when he performs later, feeling the star squirting all over his latex covered cock.

Pornstar Satoru can't stop texting you that week, he can't even get hard if he doesn't look at that picture, and you can't stop your curiosity, when you friend mentions he's doing a live stream. Since Satoru can hardly perform, he's decided to masturbate on live cam, in minutes making more than he'd make in a shoot, all while having your picture propped up. People are chatting, watching, dollars by the hundreds being tipped every moment, fuck he's making way more than he usually would, and he can think of you. He laughs softly, abs flexing as he hits the right angle, reading the comments, making you dripping wet, this isn't what you do!?

Pornstar Satoru is stroking his wet, slick cock that's glistening, up and down with his huge hand, and you feel your pussy clench, breath coming faster, unsure whether to look away or keep staring, meanwhile he's picturing you in all sorts of positions, on your knees, a fucking mating press. He's shutting his eyes for a moment, grinning as the viewers go crazy. 'I know, it's pretty, huh?' he spits right on that long, veiny cock of his, pinching his pink tip and whining, white lashes fluttering open right when he sees a familiar name enter the chat.

Your name.

hehe it'll be a FULL FIC not a drabble/oneshot - link above

[starkeysbunny]

tears [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - rafe was a busy man. but, when his girl knocked on the doors of tannyhill with tears streaming down her cheeks—nothing was more important than her. and he’d fix whatever was bothering her. or whoever. he hated to see his girl cry.

warnings - none rlly, hurt/comfort, protective and attentive rafe

rafe sighed into his phone call when he heard a knock on the door. he stood in his father’s office—which was now his—pacing the room.

“hey, hey man, just hang on a sec, sorry.” he muttered to the potential investor before he put him on hold. he set his phone down on the desk and marched out of the office, curses and mumbles leaving his lips.

“somebody always fuckin’ needs something.” his hand rubs over his buzzed hair as his other hand curls in and out of a fist at his side. “goddamn. probably fuckin’ sarah and her stupid—“

his mumbles come to a halt when he opens the door and sees his girl standing there, tears staining her flushed cheeks. “rafe..” she whispers weakly, her frame shaking as she looks up at him.

“hey, hey, baby.” he says quickly, completely forgetting the phone call waiting for him as all his attention, worry, and concern is shifted to her. “what’s wrong, c’mere.”

his hand reaches for her wrist, pulling her into his chest. she lets out a quiet sob as she buries her face into his chest, stepping inside. he haphazardly pushes the door shut as he keeps her close to his chest and walks them both inside and through the foyer.

he whispers shh’s, and coos at her in his arms as he heads for the living room, sitting them both down. he softly pulls her from his chest, his head dipping down to her level. his hands come to her cheeks, wiping the tears off her soft skin.

“hey, baby, what happened? talk to me.” he says, his eyebrows furrowed with concern.

“i-i-“ she stammers, unable to get words out as she chokes on cries. her breathing quickens, getting close to hyperventilating. when she cries, she goes too fast, losing control of her breathing.

“hey, hey, no. don’t do that. c’mon baby, you know better. breathe, baby, breathe.”

she begins to slow down, her breathing coming back to normal. she keeps her eyes on rafe’s, slowly calming down.

“there ya go. atta’ girl. good job. breathe.” he praises, his head nodding softly as he watches her. once her breathing fully calms, she takes one last deep breath and wipes the last of her tears.

“now, gonna tell me what’s got your pretty little head so worried, hm?” he coos, his head tilting slightly. “what’s bothering you? who do i have to kill, huh?” he jokes with a grin. but to be honest—he probably wasn’t joking.

she sniffles, her eyebrows furrowing. “my uterus.” she whines. “i’m on my period. my cramps hurt like a bitch. and my mom is pissing me off.” she sniffles, stumbling over her words slightly. “and i’m hungry. and you weren’t answering, i know you’re busy. but i just really needed to see you, i’m sorry—“

“hey, hey, it’s okay.” he nods softly. “i’m here, it’s alright. i’m not busy, doesn’t matter.” he says matter-of-factly. he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. “what do you need? hm? i have that heating pad in my room i bought for you a couple months ago.” he whispers sweetly. “i can make you somethin? buy you stuff? i dunno, what do you need?”

he was willing to do anything, he didn’t care. when his baby cried, he’d move mountains to make her feel better. he’d go to every store in town, run up his credit card, do anything. as long as she got a smile on her face at the end of it.

she nods against his chest, looking up at him. “yeah.. the heating pad. and—and can you make me a grilled cheese? you make em’ so good.” she asks sweetly, her voice gentle and weak.

he smiles softly, looking down at the sweet girl in his arms. “yeah, baby, of course. i don’t know if they’re that good. everytime i make them, you’re usually drunk and it’s three in the morning. that might be why they taste so good.” he jokes.

she shoves his chest playfully. “i don’t care, you can’t fuck up a grilled cheese. please?”

he grins. “yeah, yeah. grilled cheese, heating pad. got it, baby. anything else?” he says thoughtfully, his fingers coming to push strands of hair off from where they stick to her tear strained cheeks.

she shakes her head. “just you.”

he smiles. “okay.” he kisses her forehead. “i’ll be right back, gimmie a few minutes to get all that.” he stands, making sure she’s laid comfortably on the couch. he grabs the blanket from the end of the couch and drapes it over her. his eyes search the living room, landing in the remote, he hands it to her.

he leans down, placing another kiss to her cheek this time. “put on whatever you want. i’ll be back, promise.”

he leaves her at the couch and heads back to the office. he picks up his phone and takes it off hold. “hey, gotta go. somethin’ came up. i’ll give you a call later.” he hung up before the guy could even get a word in.

nothing came before his girl.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC "Pick Me Up"

The stream goes live on the first day of the school year. It's the usual song and dance - mad laughing, threats, poor jokes, terror, and about thirty kids huddled together in a classroom behind Joker's back. Tim recognizes it as one of the Gotham Academy classrooms. Dick can't imagine the horror those kids' parents must be feeling right now. Jason jokes about middle school traumatic experiences. Damian is feeling very justified for skipping classes today.

Bruce, all suited up in his Batman garb, is making his way to the Academy as fast as he possibly can. Those are kids.

Gotham is once again anxiously kept on the edge of their seats, watching as Joker decides to interview the kids on their learning experience so far. Something about leaving a good first impression on the new generation or some other bullshit. Most kids stutter over their words - it's true that Gothamites are way more composed when facing life-threatening events, but those kids are only fourteen or fifteen for the most part. They are not old enough to keep their cool in the face of a murder clown.

That is, until Joker points his camera at one of the girls. Black hair in a high ponytail, blue eyes without a trace of fear, a slightly displeased, even bored expression on her face. She looks straight into the camera, not even waiting for the laughing madman to finish his question, and deadpans:

"I don't think I like school. Pick me up, please."

Joker sputters.

"Not so scared, I see," he sneers, and, in the next moment, a comically large gun painted in purples and greens is pointed to the girl's forehead, "How about now?"

The girl scrunches her nose and makes a so-so gesture.

"It's kinda meh," she admits, "Like, yeah, points for style, but you know, size doesn't matter. It's all in the technique."

Dick snorts over the comms. It's a bad time for laughing, sure, but the phrase caught him off-guard. This is not what you'd expect to hear from a teen, and definitely not something you'd expect anyone to say to the Joker. Jason's comms are muted, but Barbara knows he also laughed a little.

"Technique, you say?" Joker hisses, pressing the gun closer to the girl's head, and she winces, leaning away from it, almost as if she is disgusted by the touch.

"Yeah, I mean, guns are not that scary anyway. What are you gonna do with them, blast my brains all over the floor? Been there, done that," the girl shrugs, "Kinda nasty, but overall, it's just like slime, only sticky." She pauses and looks to the side, seemingly lost in thought, "Huh, maybe we should have added Borax to it. Or was it baking soda?.."

"Listen here, you little brat," Joker's fingers catch the girl's chin, and his voice becomes sickeningly menacing. Bruce is almost there, just two more minutes. Tim is already grappling onto the wall.

But none of them get to finish.

"Put your dirty fingers away from my sister," a low, cold, and even in a way that speaks of barely contained fury, voice comes from out of the screen.

The camera spins, like whoever is holding it turned really fast, and everyone watching the stream sees a fairly normal guy standing by the window - a turtleneck and ripped jeans, same black hair as the girl, same blue eyes... Wait, they are not blue.

And that's not a guy.

The camera falls down to the floor, and there are a lot of panicked screams coming from the broadcast now, but none of them sound like children's voices. It's the screams of adults, of grown-ass men, and later, someone even claimed they heard Joker's scream among them, too. The picture on camera glitches a few times, and the angle is awkward, but everyone still gets to see how shadows in the room morph into eyes, wide open and green, and how the darkness grows sharp teeth, countless grinning mouths that don't belong to any faces.

Screams turn into gargling and then to quiet whispers, filling the ears of all those listening with countless words in languages they don't know.

Red Robin turns off the recording and looks to that same guy from the levestream, sitting across him on the couch. The guy - Daniel, or Danny, as he introduced himself - looks him in the eyes and raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, and?"

"How did you do it?" Tim asks for the third time this evening. Danny blinks.

"Did what?" He asks, completely incomprehending. Tim groans. He's been trying to get his answers, any answers at this point, from the guy for thirty fucking minutes already. So far, he's got nothing. Danny, whoever the fuck he is, proves to be the most annoying human being on Earth.

"Seven people in a coma, including Joker himself, with no physical injuries and none of the children remember a thing! How?!" He demands, and a girl's face peeks from around the corner:

"I remember!"

Tim snaps his head at her, "What do you remember?"

The girl pauses, blinks, and looks to Danny. Then shrugs, "My brother picked me up from school."

Tim drops his head down and breathes out in frustration. He can't force the information out of civilians, he is a vigilante, not a mafia.

"Would it make you feel better if I promise not to do it again?" Danny asks, and his voice is way too innocent for Tim to believe him. He raises his head to look the guy in his shameless, amused eyes.

"I hate you."

"Thanks," Danny grins.

[lustagel]

Loser Rodrick with a possessive reader? Like she makes out with him in public to show people that he is hers and Rodrick is confused but he ain’t complaining

it’s rare if you do it but every time you do, you completely catch rodrick off guard. him stumbling over his words, face red, tongue lapping his lips to get the taste of your messy lipgloss but he never complains, always loving how your sweet scent consumes him. he just goes along with it—lips chasing yours, hand on the back of your head to really get a taste of you in front of whoever is watching. and no matter how much his head is spinning, he’ll grin and ask “what that was for?” then listen to you explain how some girl was looking at him too hard.

this time, it’s different. just out front of his house, he had just gotten out of his van and was quick to move onto the passenger to get the door for you. you smile and thank him with a kiss to his cheek, as you always have. “gonna get something from back really quick,” rodrick told you before opening the slides doors that read loaded diaper. “think manny missed me?” you smiled, thinking about the cutie, who you’d been told, loves spouting your name to your boyfriend. “probably but he couldn’t top me,” rodrick grinned, closing the doors before he turned around to face you.

“you’re in competition with a kid now?” you laughed up at him, teasingly. but, in the corner of your eye, you saw someone—and so did rodrick, because he shifted his attention away from you to look in that direction. you glanced at the side walk and spotted two girls making full eye contact with the both of you, mostly with rodrick. one of them looked as if she’s about to wave to him but before she can even raise her hand up all the way, your lips were wet against his.

though he’d been caught off guard, he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back and lean into it. your soft lips moved against his perfectly but when he felt you part yours a bit more, encouraging him to do the same, he couldn’t stand correctly. unstably, he leaned up against the van and cupped the back of your head. before he could fully taste your tongue, though, you pulled away and watched them walk the rest of the block.

turning back to him, you eyed his lips. “sorry, got a little messier this time, didn’t it?” you grinned, smoothing the gloss out on his lips with your thumb. he stayed silent, waiting for you to finish, with his cheeks pink and eyes full of adoration. “come on, want to go see my manny.” you grab his hand and lead him up the pavement. rodrick doesn’t protest, following behind lazily as he moved his hard on over to make it less painful and noticeable in his jeans.

[holyblonded]

other mother | stargirl

pairings: olga rios x teen!reader, alexia putellas x teen!reader, jenni hermoso x teen!reader

summary: jenni is in town and your closeness with her has olga feeling insecure as her position as your mother

notes: my inbox was flooded with people asking for this so here yall go 😀

“It’s Jenni Day!” you cheered as you practically skipped down the stairs, nearly tripping over your own feet in excitement. The smell of your favorite omelet filled the air, and when you entered the kitchen, you saw Olga at the stove, expertly flipping an egg while Alexia sat at the breakfast bar, sipping her tea.

“Jenni Day, Jenni Day, Jenni Day!” You chanted, throwing in a dramatic spin before moonwalking across the kitchen floor.

Alexia chuckled, shaking her head at your antics. “I take it you’re excited?”

“Yes! Do you know why?” You grinned, pointing at her like a game show host about to reveal the grand prize. “Because it’s Jenni Day!”

You launched into another celebratory dance, arms flailing, feet shuffling, completely lost in your own little world. Alexia laughed into her tea, and even Olga cracked a smile as she plated your omelet.

“You have way too much energy this early,” Olga mused, setting your plate in front of you.

“Of course I do! Jenni is coming, and it’s been forever since I last saw her!” You threw yourself into the stool next to Alexia, bouncing in place. “We’re still going to the airport to pick her up, right?”

Alexia nodded. “That’s the plan.”

Before you could respond, a knock at the door interrupted the conversation. You frowned, confused, whoever was here was intruding on your special celebration.

Alexia stood to answer it, but the moment the door swung open, a familiar voice rang out.

“¡Mi pequeño diabla!” (My little devil)

Your eyes widened in pure joy. “Jenni!”

Without hesitation, you bolted from your seat, sprinting across the kitchen and launching yourself into her arms. Jenni caught you with ease, laughing as she lifted you off the ground and spun you in a circle.

“My diablita, look at you! Have you grown? Or am I just getting old?” she teased, pressing loud, exaggerated kisses all over your face.

You giggled, squeezing her tight. “You’re ancient, Jenni.”

She gasped, feigning offense. “¡Qué mala!” She set you down only for you to immediately latch onto her side, practically glued to her as you dragged her toward the breakfast bar.

“Okay, okay, come sit! I have so much to tell you!” You pulled her into the seat next to yours, eyes bright with excitement. “You missed so much! Oh my god, wait, did you see my last match? And also, you have to see this new trick I learned— oh! And guess what? I have a girlfriend now! Her name is Soleil, and she’s the best, and I need to show you pictures—”

Jenni listened with an amused smile, nodding along as you spoke a mile a minute, gesturing wildly with your hands.

Meanwhile, Olga, who had turned back to the stove, found herself oddly quiet. She glanced over her shoulder at the way you clung to Jenni, the way you looked at her like she hung the moon, and something inside her twisted.

She knew Jenni had been in your life for years, had played a huge role in your childhood, especially when she and Alexia had been together. She understood the excitement, the affection— but still, as she stood there, spatula in hand, watching you practically vibrate with happiness in Jenni’s arms, she couldn’t help but feel like she was standing on the outside looking in.

Alexia noticed the shift in Olga’s demeanor, the slight slump of her shoulders, the way she suddenly seemed overly focused on the eggs she was cooking.

“You okay?” Alexia murmured, nudging Olga gently.

Olga forced a small smile. “Yeah… just not used to being replaced so quickly.”

Alexia sighed, wrapping an arm around Olga’s waist and pressing a reassuring kiss to her temple. “She loves you, you know that.”

“I know,” Olga admitted. “But right now, I think I’m just the lady who made her breakfast.”

Before Alexia could respond, your voice rang out again.

“Olga, come sit with us!” You turned to her, waving her over with an enthusiastic hand. “You have to hear this story Jenni’s telling!”

Olga hesitated for a split second before schooling her expression, pushing aside the small pang of insecurity.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” she said, finally taking the empty seat next to you.

And when you instinctively reached for her hand, squeezing it without even looking as you continued talking to Jenni, Olga felt some of that uncertainty ease.

The bell above the door chimed as you bounced into your favorite café, your hand wrapped around Soleil’s while Jenni strolled beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders like she never left. Alexia and Olga trailed behind, already making their way to the counter to order drinks while you led Jenni and Soleil to a cozy booth near the window.

“You’re gonna love this place,” you told Jenni, excitement bubbling in your voice. “They have the best pastries, and they always write little messages on the coffee cups.”

Jenni smirked, sliding into the seat across from you and Soleil. “I trust your taste, mi diablita.”

You turned to Soleil, eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe I haven’t introduced you two sooner! Jenni basically helped raise me. Like, she taught me how to ride a bike, took me to all my first pro matches, and—” you leaned in, stage whispering—“everything I know about being a striker? All from her.”

Soleil smiled warmly, looking at Jenni with clear appreciation. “That explains why you’re such a menace on the field.”

Jenni grinned. “Ah, so you’ve witnessed her chaos firsthand.”

Soleil laughed. “Every day.”

You laughed too, leaning into Jenni’s side and hugging her tightly. “She’s the best, Sol. When Ale and Jenni were dating, she was always around, always looking out for me. And even after… you know, they broke up, she never disappeared. She’s family.”

Jenni pressed a fond kiss to your temple. “Always.”

Across the café, Olga stood in line, watching the interaction with a tightness in her chest she couldn’t quite shake. You were radiant, so full of joy, clinging to Jenni like she was your lifeline. The way you looked at her, the way you spoke about her, all of it made Olga’s stomach twist uncomfortably.

She knew Jenni had been a part of your life long before she had. She knew Jenni had played a big role in raising you. But knowing it and watching it were two different things.

Alexia, standing beside her, caught the shift in Olga’s expression immediately. Without hesitation, she bumped Olga’s shoulder gently. “You good, amor?”

Olga plastered on a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah, fine.”

Alexia didn’t buy it for a second. “You’re watching them like they just stole your puppy.”

Olga sighed, glancing away. “I just… she clearly loves Jenni. And I get it, Jenni was there when she was little, she taught her all these things, helped raise her—” she exhaled sharply— “but I’m supposed to be her mother now. And sometimes, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fill that space the way Jenni did.”

Alexia frowned, reaching for Olga’s hand and squeezing it. “Olga, you are her mother. She chose you, we chose you. That doesn’t change just because she loves Jenni too.”

Olga’s grip tightened slightly, her jaw clenching. “I know, but it’s different. She looks at Jenni like she’s the person who made her who she is. I just… I don’t want to be second place in something that means everything to me.”

Olga’s fingers curled into fists at her sides as she watched you practically drape yourself over Jenni, your eyes shining with admiration as you told Soleil story after story about how Jenni had shaped you. Every time you hugged Jenni, every time you laughed at something she said, every time you looked at her like she was one of the most important people in your world— it chipped away at something deep inside Olga.

She wasn’t jealous, not exactly. It wasn’t that she wanted to erase Jenni’s role in your life. It was the fear that no matter how much time passed, no matter how much love she gave, no matter how fiercely she protected you, she would always be playing catch up to the people who had come before her.

Jenni had been there for your firsts. Your first bike ride, your first professional match, your first real football lessons. She had guided you, shaped you, made you into the player, and person, you were now. And Olga? She had come in when you were already a teenager, already formed, already carrying years of love for people who had been there long before she was.

Would you ever look at her the way you looked at Jenni? Would you ever talk about her like that, with that same effortless fondness, that same unshakable attachment? Or would she always be the afterthought, the one who came later, the one who did the daily work of being your mother but never quite felt like she had earned the title?

She tried to shake the thoughts away, but they stuck, clinging to her like wet clothes. The café was warm, but suddenly, she felt cold.

The room was dark except for the dim glow of the bathroom light spilling in through the cracked door. The sound of running water filled the silence, Alexia still in the shower. You padded in quietly, rubbing your tired eyes, ready to burrow under the blankets and curl up against Olga like you did every night. But as you climbed onto the bed, something felt… off.

Olga was facing away from you, curled into herself, her shoulders rising and falling in uneven breaths. The second you got closer, you heard it— a soft sniff, barely audible, but enough to make your chest tighten.

“Olga?” you murmured, shifting closer, pressing against her back. “What’s wrong?”

She stiffened, wiping at her face quickly. “Nothing, nena. Just tired.”

Liar. You frowned, resting your chin on her shoulder. “You’re sniffling.”

She let out a shaky breath. “Allergies.”

You huffed. “You don’t have allergies.”

She didn’t say anything, just reached for your hand and squeezed it, like that would be enough to convince you she was fine. But you weren’t convinced. You could feel the sadness radiating off her, pressing into the space between you.

You lay there for a moment, racking your brain. What could’ve happened? She’d been fine earlier at the café. Or at least, she’d seemed fine. Maybe something happened after? You were deep in thought when you caught movement from the bathroom door.

Alexia had stepped out, her hair damp, her towel wrapped around her as she glanced at Olga and then at you. The moment you made eye contact, she raised her brows and nodded toward Olga, then dramatically mimicked wiping away tears.

You squinted at her. She nodded toward the door, signaling that she was leaving you to it, but not before she started her silent charades. She made a small motion, pointing at herself, then at Olga, then at you. Then she held up one finger. First? No. She repeated the movement, then mimed kicking a ball, then pointed at you again. Your brain worked through it. First. Football. You. It was about Jenni. Everything clicked at once, the way Olga had gone quiet while you were talking to Jenni, the way she lingered at the edge of the conversation instead of joining in. She was feeling insecure.

Alexia gave you a knowing look before slipping back into the bathroom, leaving you alone with Olga.

You exhaled softly, tightening your grip on her waist as you pressed your forehead against her shoulder. “Is this about Jenni?”

Olga’s breath hitched for a second before she let out a small laugh, watery and tired. “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”

You didn’t respond, just curled further into her, letting the silence settle before you spoke again. “Olga,” you started softly, “I need you to hear me, okay?”

She didn’t answer, but you could feel her breathing, steady but fragile, like she was waiting for you to say something that would make this ache in her chest go away.

You took a deep breath. “You are my mom.” You said it plainly, like it was the simplest truth in the world. “Jenni was there for me when I was a kid, yeah, and I’ll always love her for that, but that doesn’t take away from you. It never could.”

Olga stayed quiet, but you felt her relax just a little.

“You have been there for me in ways no one else has,” you continued. “You were there when I signed my first contract. You held my hand through that whole process because I was freaking out. You were there when I made my debut. You were the first person I looked for when I got subbed on. Do you know that?”

Olga swallowed. “Nena…”

“No, listen.” You sat up slightly, resting your weight on your elbow as you looked at her. “You were there the first time I got called up to the USWNT. You were there when I scored my first international goal, screaming like a crazy person in the stands. You were the one who stayed up with me when I had that awful stomach bug last year, even though you had training the next morning. You always carry snacks for me in your bag, you know exactly how I like my tea, you check in on me even when you’re halfway across the world.”

Olga wiped at her eyes, her lip trembling.

“You do all of that because you’re my mom, Mama.” Your voice softened. “You are the one who made me feel safe, who made me feel like I had a home, who made me believe that being loved wasn’t something I had to fight for.”

She let out a quiet sob, turning in your arms to pull you against her. You felt the dampness of her tears against your shirt as she buried her face in your shoulder, and you held her as tightly as she held you.

“I love you,” you whispered. “So much. I don’t care how many people were there before you, you are my mom. No one could ever replace you.”

Olga squeezed you impossibly tighter. “I love you too, mi niña.”

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, until the sound of Alexia clearing her throat from the bathroom doorway made you both look up.

“If you’re done making me cry from the other side of the door,” she said, voice thick with emotion, “can I get in on this cuddle session?”

You laughed, tugging Olga down with you as Alexia climbed into bed, wrapping an arm around both of you. And as you lay there, safe in the warmth of your family, you felt ii, Olga’s steady heartbeat beneath your palm, the rise and fall of her breath, the silent, unspoken promise that she was yours and you were hers, and that would never change.

[mywritersmind]

Fewtrell reader is staying over at Maxs and hes out and Lando comes over and asks “is he home?” and she offers to let him in and wait and the tension is HIGHHH (hes her childhood crush) and you can be creative from here. 🫣

FUCK WITH MY HEAD - LN4

listen up : banter banter banter!! mentions of sex. ty for the request this like vibe is always in my mind (flirty bantery brothers best friend)

word count : 1061

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m not even dressed yet, but the consistent knocking and ringing of the doorbell is driving me mad, “Whoever you are, you better have a good reason!” I yell at the unknown person as I yank open the door, only a towel wrapped around me. “Of course it’s you.”

“Wow, not even a hello? And I thought we were friends.” Lando Norris stands in front of me, holding his chest like I've hurt his heart. His eyes check out my towel situation before asking, “Your brother home?”

I practically groan in his face, walking away from the door, “You couldn’t have texted him!? He’s gone for another hour.” I say as I slam the door of the guest bedroom closed so I can change in peace.

I hear the front door shut, “Someone’s in a good mood today.” I mock him only for myself to see as I pull on white shorts and an oversized t-shirt.

I walk back out, breathing deeply and reminding myself that he can’t get to me if I don’t let him, “You’re sort of ruining my only time alone this week.” I’m visiting my brother and as much as I love the guy, he’s fucking obnoxious to live with.

“Had to listen to P and Max go at it, huh?” He leans over the counter, taking a crisp from my bowl.

I make a disgusted face at him, “You’re disgusting and you know for a fact I would be gone if that happened.”

“Wish I was spared from their sex life.” I roll my eyes and pour myself some water, “So… How’s your trip been?”

Small talk? Seriously weird coming from Lando.

“Why are you here anyways?” I don’t answer his question, he stands and joins me at my side, “You know that phone you have? It actually can message someone so you don’t randomly show up to their house!” I smile and blink at him.

He takes another crisp, “But then I wouldn’t be getting this lovely time with you.” I shake my head as I sip my water, pretending not to notice Lando’s eyes roam my body.

It’s a weird feeling to look back at your childhood crush in general; but when your childhood crush is your best friend's brother, famous, rich, and ridiculously attractive, it’s even worse.

Lando Norris was the object of my desire at thirteen and clearly I was onto something. He's dressed in a black shirt and jeans, sporting sneakers and a singular ring on his middle finger.

Still, like every historically accurate childhood crush, Lando never showed any interest. Until we hit our 20s and Lando learned how to flirt.

I don’t see him often, we would run into each other during breaks or holidays. I watch quadrant videos while I do my makeup or races while I pick out an outfit, but Lando hasn’t been this close to me in a while.

The last time we were like this was the beginning of last year. Like I said, we see each other for some holidays. I happened to be invited to his and Max’s new year’s party.

I also happened to be Lando’s new year's kiss. Maybe a bit more, but a lady never tells.

I fake sweetness, twirling my hair, “I’m honored! Lando Norris likes,” My voice goes dry and I walk away from him, “ruining my me time!”

I hear him chuckle as I sit on the couch with my food and phone, “You get sassier everytime I see you.”

I bite into my food, “As I should.”

“And hotter.” I’m paused with my food halfway in my mouth. What the fuck.

I take a breath, not daring to look back, “You shouldn’t say shit like that.”

“Why? I know you like it.” how is his voice attractive?

I turn around, he’s got a shit eating grin on his face, leaning back against the counter. “Max.” I say simply.

“Last time I checked,” He pushes off the counter, walking to the couch and looking down at me, “Max isn’t here.”

“You’re getting far too optimistic.” I look up at him, “Fame going to your head?”

“No I think it’s just you…” His gaze stays fixed on me, “In my head, I mean.” He does this shit too often. Gets in my head while boosting his confidence. I blush and he smirks, it’s a sick cycle that I can’t help but love.

His eyes are glued to mine, I narrow them, trying to figure out his aim here.

“Get in line.” I roll my eyes and turn back to my food and open my phone. I see him bite back a smile, jumping over the couch and laying face up.

He tilts his head back at me while I text my friend, “So… Uni. How many boyfriends have you got?”

I don’t look at him, “I’m currently dating my textbooks. Who has the time?”

“Alright, how many fuck buddies you got?” I eye him, all cute and upside down.

I put my phone down, “You really wanna know the truth?”

“Are my feelings gonna get hurt?”

I look away and he sits up, looking at me in that way I hate so much. It’s not even been twenty minutes and he’s already fucking with my head.

He scoots closer to me and I push my hand over his face to get him away, “You’re ridiculous. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

He doesn’t look away, he never seems to have an issue with eye contact when it comes to me, “What am I doing?” His tone is egging me on, “Go on. Tell me.”

I shake my head, “You’ve got that look in your eye… Like how you looked at me during new years.” The corner of his mouth lifts at the memory.

“Is that a bad thing?”

I sigh, what am I supposed to do? We never talked about it. Max could never know. And as attracted to him as I am, It will never happen again.

I tilt my head a bit, “What are you gonna Lando? Fuck me on my brothers couch?” I catch the slight blush on his cheeks, how his eyes flicker down.

Then he looks back up at me, but not meeting my eyes, his smile grows, “Seems like a pretty appealing offer right now.”

I groan and stand up, “I’m resuming my me time, try not to break anything.”

“You’re not slick, darling! Think of me when you touch yourself.” He blows me a kiss, I reply with my middle finger.

[27spoons]

Feeling Myself | Natalie Scatorccio

summary: Your best friend's been ignoring you since you hooked up a few days ago. Determined to speak with her again, you decide to visit her in the changing rooms after a soccer game. What's the worst that happens?

pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

warnings: porn/what plot, smut (afab!reader), slightly ooc nat (in the name of porn), no proofreading we die like jackie

a/n: this shit corny asf LMAOOOO (this is a "what-if" from part two.) (also see: i had a thought while writing part two. this is 90% smut.) (this is also 10x as crude as the previous smut I've done sorry not sorry)

wc: 3430

[you don't need to read either part to read this.]

part one / part two

A quick recap of the events that took place the past week.

You slept with your best friend at a party. Your best friend who happens to be knee-deep in denial when it comes to her sexuality. She's been avoiding you like the plague since then. You've just finished watching her play a soccer game, and now you're awkwardly standing outside the locker rooms.

Great. Recap over.

Okay, thirty minutes is overkill, especially for Nat, who typically likes getting in and out as fast as possible. Sure, maybe you'd spend thirty minutes in a shower at home, but in a public place? With the floors that definitely have bacteria on them that could kill a Victorian child?

That's practically a carnal sin.

You aren't sure why you're steeling yourself; I mean… odds are she just left through the other entrance, right? And it's not like you aren't allowed in this change room, it's just the general change room for the school facilities…

Whatever.

You stand up straight and throw the door open to the changing room, not that surprised to find it completely empty—save for the sound of a shower running in the back of the space. Realistically, if it is Nat, you should probably let her finish her shower. You don't really know where the two of you stand right now, and intruding on a shower hardly seems like a good time to find out. And, if it isn't Nat, intruding on a shower would be a really, really bad idea.

Still, you decide to investigate further. 

Quietly making your way toward the shower stalls, you glance around and look for anything that could give you an idea about whoever it is, showering and praying to whatever God there is that it's Nat and not some random stranger. 

When you reach the benches in front of the stalls, you let out a relieved breath you didn't even realise you were holding—you'd recognize those combat boots anywhere.

Is confronting her while she's in the shower the most intelligent idea? No. But honestly? You're more than a little frustrated and pretty sure that she'll continue to avoid you unless you do something now.

So, you do the mature thing, much like she did.

You storm to the front of the stall and bang on the door, "Natalie?!" You call out, voice slightly shaky at the idea that it might not be her after all. 

A long, tense moment of silence passes after you speak, save for the sound of water hitting the tiles below. You start to panic, worrying that you really did just knock on a stranger's shower stall, scaring the everliving shit out of—

"Are you fucking kidding me?" A voice, unmistakenly belonging to a certain Natalie Scatorccio, rings out over the sounds of the shower, "You couldn't fucking… wait until I wasn't fucking showering?!"

"You've been avoiding me!" You yell back, "What the fuck was I supposed to do? You haven't been showing up to class, you've been avoiding my calls… I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know!" She yells back, "Maybe wait for me to come to you when I'm ready to talk, ideally not when I'm in the fucking shower?!"

"Yeah, well…" You mutter, realising that… yeah… maybe this wasn't the best time, but you're already here! There's no backing down now! "That's not the point!" You eventually continue, "Why have you been avoiding me since Friday night?"

She doesn't respond for a long moment.

"Well?" You scoff, calling over the water, "Natalie? Are you gonna answer me—"

The stall door flings open, revealing a very naked and very wet Natalie Scatorccio.

Your jaw drops. Sure, you saw her naked during the night of the party, but this is much different. She looks very upset with your sudden appearance, and for a moment, when she draws her hand back, you worry she's about to clock you in the jaw. And, honestly? You'd probably deserve it.

What you aren't expecting, however, is her to grab the back of your head and mash your lips against hers, all tongue and teeth.

It's only a moment's hesitation before you return the kiss, and she's drawing you back into the shower stall. "We better be alone," Natalie murmurs, tugging your hoodie off and over your head as it begins to soak through. "I'm not about to have one of the girls walk in on this." 

"No, uh, yeah, we're alone." You stammer out, kicking off your shoes and pants, "I wouldn't have caused a scene if there were still people in here—"

"Good." Nat breathes out as she tugs you into the shower's spray, despite the fact you haven't even gotten the chance to remove your underwear yet. "Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about this." And her lips are back against yours, free hand immediately moving to find purchase between your thighs, fingers rubbing you through the damp fabric. (Which, you'll note, is now damp for more than one reason.) 

"Holy fuck—" A shaky exhale parts from your lips, your head falling back to hit the shower wall, one hand attempting to find some sort of grip on the wall while the other grasps uselessly at her wrist, "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you in the time we weren't talking?" You ask breathlessly, hips pushing into her hand.

"I spent a lot of time thinking about this." She murmurs, fingers pushing the soaked fabric aside and pushing two fingers through your slick folds, teasing the length of your slit for a few moments before she quickly sinks two fingers into the wet heat at the apex of your thighs.

"F-fuck—" A full-body shiver rakes through your form as your back arches off the wall, a shocked gasp leaving your lips once she starts fucking her fingers into you with reckless abandon. "Jesus Christ—" "You seem to be saying his name a lot. Last I checked, it's my fingers inside of you and not his." She says with a smug grin, resting her free hand on the wall next to your head. "Unless you got really religious in the past few days."

"Asshole." You grunt out, nails digging into her wrist as you desperately roll your hips against her hand, "You are knuckle deep inside me, and I'm not about to just start saying your full name—"

"No." She cuts you off, "But you could just say Natalie."

"That's not—" She cuts you off when she stretches you further with a third finger, and you're almost positive her wrist has to be cramping with the angle it's at, but she shows zero signs of stopping or slowing down. "—the point—" You stammer out, eyes screwing shut as squelching sounds from her fingers fucking your pussy manage just to be loud enough to be heard over the rush of water beating against the porcelain.  

"No, you're right. The point is that you shouldn't be thinking of anyone else while I'm the one inside of you."

If there was something you expected Nat to say, that was not it, but you can't help the way you clench around her fingers at the comment.

"Oh, shit." A low laugh spills from her throat, "You like that, huh? When I'm all possessive? Didn't realise you'd be into that sorta stuff."

"Fuck off." You mutter, "I've never heard you get possessive before. It's kinda hot."

"Yeah? Guess I'll have to keep that in mind." Her palm grinds hard into your clit as her fingers brush against that spot inside of you that has your hips bucking and losing the rhythm you had found. "Oh. That was a fun spot." Nat murmurs to herself, "I liked that. Let's do it again."

So, she does. She presses her fingers right against that spot with every flick of her wrist, and you can't help but wonder how the fuck she became so damn good at this when at times, it felt like she barely had two brain cells to rub together that night of the party—

Shit, you didn't even notice the fact she was trailing her lips along the hollow of your throat, tongue collecting the water that streams down your body from your face. "Nat—" You gasp when you feel her teeth bite at your jaw, "Shit—"

"Mm, yeah." You can feel her grin against your throat, "See? Knew you had it in you to say my name. Just needed some gentle encouragement, is all."

You can't even form coherent thoughts at this point. You aren't sure what turns you on more: doing this in a public place where anyone could walk in and hear the deplorable things currently transpiring, the fact that Nat seems to be eager to have you like this, the way her lips trace along your neck reverently, or her completely making you forget the whole reason you walked into the changing rooms to begin with.

Nat spends some time alternating between the stretch of three fingers and the ruthless pace of two, occasionally completely retracting her fingers in favour of circling your clit with the pads of her index and middle before sinking them back in.

"You, fuck, I'm close." You stammer out the next time she sinks her fingers back into the tight heat, "Don't fucking stop—"

She shakes her head against your neck, "Not stopping." A shaky exhale, and you start to feel her hips rolling against your thigh, "Not stopping until I feel you fucking come around my fingers."

Your eyes roll back into your head at the words that fall from her lips, and you find yourself gripping her arm again for support. "Oh, holy fuck, Natalie—"

With a stuttering movement of your hips against the heel of her palm, you find yourself crashing into a climax that you were not expecting to get right in the fucking changing rooms.

And, despite how you clench around her fingers and your knees buckle slightly, Nat doesn't even stop. Not for half a second. The crude sounds of her fingers fucking your spasming pussy at breakneck speed don't slow, and your head thrashes back and forth against the wall, "Nat, fuck, wait—"

"No." She hisses into the side of your neck, biting at the skin, "I'm not done yet."

Thank causes a broken groan to slip from your lips as her fingers press against that one spot over and over again to the point the edges of your vision start to turn fuzzy amid the ecstasy. "F-fuck, I just came—"

"I know." She growls out, fingers seemingly plunging in deeper to your tight heat with every thrust of her wrist, "And I want you to come again."

"Oh." You exhale, eyes screwing shut again, "Oh…"

Nat grins at your breathless sounds, "Yeah, baby. Like that." Three fingers, "Fuck, love how tight you feel around my fingers. How fucking wet you are for me." "We're, ah, in a shower. Of course, I'm wet—"

She bites down on your neck particularly harshly at your words, "Shut up. You know that isn't what I fucking meant."

"N-no, but it's funny—"

You barely even register it when Nat drops to her knees before you, bringing one of your legs over her shoulder, "God, shut up."

And, well, you don't get a chance to speak again before she's burying her face against your heat, fingers continuing in their harsh movements as her tongue attaches itself to your clit, swirling around and sucking at the nub.

One of your hands immediately finds itself tangled in her blonde hair, the other trying to hold your body up against the stall wall behind you, which proves… to be a hard enough task on its own, given that the walls are slick with water and smooth.

"Oh, fuck—" You hiss out, tugging slightly on her hair, "Shit, give me a second—"

Nat doesn't. She doesn't stop or slow, either. Hell, she doesn't even humour you with a response, just choosing to focus on her task at hand: making you come again.

It's slightly embarrassing how quickly you're right back on the precipice of an orgasm. You'd probably be mortified if you could form thoughts other than "yes" and "please."

You swear you can feel the way Nat smirks against you as she wraps her lips around your clit, creating a suction that has a full-body shudder raking through you and—

…

Even Nat has to stop for half a second when she feels you come again, less than a minute after the first one. "Fuck." She breathes out, looking up at you with her jaw slightly slack, fingers still buried inside of you. "Did you just…?"

Realistically, you could lie. But you get the feeling this is a hypothetical question.

"I… I told you I needed a second…" Comes your stammered response, "That's… I'm not… I don't… it's just…"

A dark chuckle leaves Nat's mouth as she removes your leg from her shoulder, ensuring you can stand properly before she rises back to her feet, "Mmn, I'm not mad. If anything, it's kinda flattering."

You scowl slightly at her, "What-whatever." 

You decide it's her turn, now. 

As fast as you can move without slipping on the tile, you pin Natalie to the wall in your place, lips finding her neck, tracing up the path of a water droplet with your tongue, then further up still until your lips are back on hers.

One of Nat's hands comes to rest on your shoulder, the other tangling itself into your hair as your kiss grows more and more heated. Although it's a little tricky to do with the slick walls, you spread her thighs slightly and press your knee up between them, encouraging her to grind down onto your leg. It's your turn to smirk now, finding some sort of pleasure in the way she immediately presses her pussy against you, hips rocking with urgency.

"Yeah," You grunt against her lips, "like that. Keep doing that." The blonde whimpers back, grinding herself faster, "Please." She breathes out, "I need more."

"What?" You chuckle, "Sorry, I didn't get that. Mind saying that again?"

She slaps your shoulder, "Stop being such a fucking tease, asshole. What do you want me to say? That I want your fingers inside of me?"

You grin, "Yeah. That works, actually." One of your hands runs down the flat of her stomach, two fingers run across her folds, not quite delving into the warmth between them. "But the begging is a little hot."

"I'm not going to beg." She immediately answers, "If you aren't gonna fuck me, I'll find someone else to do it."

Your jaw tenses immediately at the comment, and you aren't quite sure if it's jealousy or something else, but the very idea of that pisses you off to no end. "No the fuck you aren't." You hiss out, sinking your index and middle finger into her cunt without another word, earning you a keening sound. "I'm the only person doing this to you tonight."

"God, yes." She almost moans out the words, "Harder."

A scoff, but you oblige her anyway, turning two fingers to three and fucking them into her faster, grinding your palm into her as the digits move, and Nat doesn't think she's ever been more grateful for someone with long fingers.

She presses her tongue back against yours, using the hand that's tangled in your hair to guide your mouth where she wants it—against hers.

The press of your lips against yours makes the movements of your hand slow momentarily, but you quickly recover your speed when Nat tugs at the hair on the nape of your neck, reminding you that there's an end goal to this.

"Mm, my bad." You murmur, pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of her lips, "Your mouth is very distracting."

Nat rolls her eyes, "Yeah? Then maybe you should be somewhere it won't distract you." A half-grin twitches itself onto her lips, and the hand on your shoulder presses down, "On your knees, ideally."

"Just say you want me to eat you out." You lower yourself onto one knee, "Saying what you want is hot." Nat grins down at you and runs her fingers through your hair as you get down on your other knee, "Don't need to say what I want. You're already doing it."

You roll your eyes at her as you press some gentle kisses to her inner thighs, humming when she parts them for you. "Maybe." A small nip to the soft skin, "But I do enjoy you telling me what to do."

"Oh, yeah? What, you into being dominated?" She laughs lowly, "Interesting. I'll have to keep that in mind."

"You say that like you plan on doing this again." You take one of her legs and hoist it over your shoulder, pausing a beat, then taking the other leg and repeating the motion. "Do you plan on doing this again?" Nat gasps when you have her sit on your shoulders, fingers tightening in your hair, "Fuck, you keep pulling shit like this, and I just might keep doing it."

A grin graces your lips, "That so? Guess I'll have to keep you coming back." A chaste kiss to her clit, then you're delving your tongue into her cunt, greedily slurping at the wetness that's collected between her legs. 

Your fingers dig into the meat of her thighs, holding her against your face, encouraging her to squeeze your head like a goddamn watermelon. You could, quite honestly, die happy with your head where it is right now.

Nat is rolling her hips against your face, your nose brushing against her clit as your face remains buried in her pussy, obscene sounds echoing against the walls, and you aren't even sure when the shower clicked off, but you are aware that it makes the two of you much more audible.

You'd pull your head back to tell her or move one of your hands to swat at the button to turn the water back on, but you get the feeling she could care less how audible what's transpiring between the two of you is.

So, you try to put that into the back of your mind, letting the sounds of your mouth against her and Nat's broken gasps act as fuel for the way you fuck her with your tongue. 

It's a handful of minutes before her breathing becomes more stuttered, her grip on your hair starts to hurt slightly, and you don't think she would let you up for air if your face were literally turning blue, but that's okay.

In fact, it's more than okay, considering you feel her pussy pulsate around your tongue as a whimpering moan breaks from her throat, hips continuing to rock against your face for a few more seconds before ceasing. 

"Fuck." Her fingers run through your hair, as if serving an apology for the way she was tugging on it. "You're fucking good at that." You shoot a lazy grin up at her through between her thighs, which were effectively acting as earmuffs. "I aim to please. Happy that my goal was met."

Her head falls back against the wall as she laughs, "Yeah. Now, put me down."

"Mm, sure you can stand?" You tease, nipping at her thigh again.

"Positive, asshole." She rolls her eyes fondly, "Let me off."

A dramatic sigh parts from your lips, but you relent and help her get her feet back on the ground, "Fine, fine." You stand back at your full height, looking down at her slightly as you lean against the wall, "But I really wasn't done yet."

"Yeah, well, I was. I'm not in the mood to get caught by someone in here." She shoves your shoulder, causing you to take a step away from her. "We both got off."

You click your tongue, "Seriously? C'mon. Don't be like that…"

"We can get off more later."

"Oh?" You quirk an eyebrow, "That mean I'm coming back to your dorm?"

"Well. That was fun." Nat ignores the question, pushing off the wall and hitting the shower button again. "Now. I need to finish showering. You staying or leaving?"

You scoff, "Staying, I guess." You spare a glance down at your soaked clothes, "Gonna be soaked the whole walk home, anyway. Not in the mood for that walk."

She laughs deliciously, "Oh, trust me; if I have anything to say about it? You'll be soaked at home, too."

A beat. "And you said my dirty talk was terrible."

a/n: ok NOW crush act two part one next fr fr

[illbegottenfaith]

in sweetness (inspired by robin by t. swift)

visiting theo's childhood home grants you a deeper understanding of his inner workings (theo nott x reader)

a/n - I haven't genuinely loved a piece of writing like I do this one in a loooong time, I'm aware of how it strays away from the conventional flow/storyline of fanfic but I feel like that's what makes this so special! this is kind of the backstory of Theo I have in my head for pretty much any fic I write, regardless of the tropes/au's involved.

tropes/warnings - love?? hurt/comfort, angst, happy ending, friends to lovers

word count - 2.7k

In their third year, Theodore Nott broke the nose of his then-teammate Mattheo Riddle. The fight had broken out on the Quidditch pitch after a practice; over what, no one could remember, least of all the boys themselves. Mattheo had said something undoubtedly incendiary in that arrogant, goading voice of his, and Theo had lunged at him, knocking the pair down. The brawl had come to a surprisingly quick end once he had decked the stockier boy in the face.

Years on, most people put it down to a culmination of red-hot emotions and pubescent testosterone. But it was more than that. Even then, you found the incident more telling than most others. Friend or foe, Theodore Nott never hesitated to exact justice by his own means, as he saw fit.

Perhaps it was his only means of control in a world that had treated him unforgivingly all his life.

You put down the photo of a bloody-nosed Mattheo sitting next to a busted-lipped Theo in the Hospital Wing, a photo taken to commemorate, as Blaise Zabini cheerfully put it, 'Baby's first fistfight.' You are standing in Theo's bedroom in his childhood home while waiting for him to return. You wanted to surprise him, but as his aunt had told you, he had popped out to drop by some old friends in the area. Still, she said that he would be returning soon and that you were welcome to wait in his room.

Looking around at every little photo, artifact, and piece of evidence of the years gone by feels like you are watching him grow up in front of your very eyes. And just like his life, something about the room feels disjointed and unharmonious. Other than a few obligatory photos or trinkets, most of the room appears sparsely decorated. The air feels heavy, as if it carries an unbearable silence even when he is home for the holidays.

There are posters of some vaguely familiar professional Quidditch players decorating one wall. Looking at the years printed in the corner, you glean that they must have been from before you met Theo. Although a layer of dust now sits on the untouched but otherwise pristine posters, it's clear that they were once highly beloved by their owner.

You see something similar in the rest of the room - different phases of his life cluttered different corners of his room. It was as though the room itself never changed; rather, he learned to grow in whatever space was left. You tilted your head up. There, hanging from the ceiling above his bed, appears to be a slightly misshapen, dusty baby mobile made of flimsy, plasticky dragonflies. It looks handmade. It sticks out like a sore thumb in what is otherwise a tidy room.

You wander over to the window on the other side of the room. You pick up another picture frame, this one containing a photograph of a toddler Theodore at the very windowsill you were standing in front of, taken from the garden just outside his window.

Back then, with a face that small, his dark curls seemed to overwhelm his tiny stature. He was laughing with a twinkle in his eye which he seemed to have lost over the years, unabashed with a face overflowing with love for whoever was behind the camera. You peer through the crooked window and imagine him scrambling up, not yet three feet tall, towards the photo-taker who humoured his nonsensical babbling with the forgiving kind of maternal patience. What had she looked like? Did she have his hair? His nose? His dry wit? His temper? His unexpected, if endearing, touchy side? It was a fragmented sort of picture in your head, but it was better than nothing.

You look back at the photo and your heart twinges with regret. Theo didn't talk about it much, but you knew he had lost her when he was very young - far too young. This had to be one of the last few moments when he was blissfully unaware of the horrors that waited for him in the real world. And even after that, how could he have anticipated just how much worse things could get? You bite your lip. No, you decide, he had no idea.

After the Quidditch pitch incident, unlike his newest best mate, Theo's penchant for violence was short-lived. Yet his ruthless efficiency remained almost cutthroat - whatever Theo wanted, he got, everyone else be damned. In fact, he hadn't really understood what it felt like to care for someone else until he met you.

With your round, trusting eyes and irrationally lovable affectations, you had somehow wormed your way into his otherwise cold, distant heart, and there you stayed. Your friends hadn't held back on the teasing, especially in the early days, but you couldn't bring yourself to care when an electric kind of thrill would run through you as he'd duck his head oh so slightly to better hear whatever spiel you had chosen to grace him with between lessons that day over the din of the moving staircases and their unfortunate victims. The electric thrill of having a friend, of course.

But that didn't stop you from noticing how his past seemed to hold him back, as much as he liked to pretend otherwise. With his father's less-than-exemplary background, you saw him struggle to not follow him down that same path. After all, how did one break free of the only world they've ever known? Sometimes you could feel his frustration, as if he felt stuck or stagnant. While everyone else busied themselves with orchestrating life plans as graduation grew nearer, Theo seemed woefully encumbered by the one thing he could never rid himself of, shackled by the chains of his lineage.

You had picked up on this the time he had come down with a bout of the flu. "Maybe I should take your temperature again," you had said, anxiously looking at his wan face as his skin burned the back of your hand.

"I'm fine, really," he had repeated, as he dragged your hand down to his chest, eyes lidded. "I'll sleep it off."

You had pressed your lips into a thin line, highly conflicted over how much you wanted to argue with a clearly sick patient. Your other hand had drifted to his scalp as you had distractedly started raking your fingers through his hair. Theo's lips had parted as he sighed in relief, melting further into his pillow.

"Just...just stay. For a while." His eyes had been fully closed by then. "I get the worst dreams when I'm sick."

You had run your thumb along your clasped hands. "What do you dream about?"

Theo had paused. "Terrible things," he had said after a moment, in a pleasant, light voice, as if you were merely discussing the weather. "Terrible things that I can't change."

He had no idea.

The least you could do was let him feel free when he was with you. You knew just what to do to tug a smile onto his face, no matter how reluctant, on the greyest of days. It helped that it didn't take much for you to amuse him. It wasn't always easy, keeping spirits high enough for the both of you, but you managed. Anything to make his life a little brighter, a little sweeter.

And so the time he spent with you only served to further mellow him out, soften his sharp, unrelenting edges. His bloodlust moulded itself into something kinder, something that didn't itch for retribution for every wrong-doing or misdeed. A compassion that presented itself in the oddest of ways - like the time you had found Theo entertaining one of the toddlers from the annual gift donation drive in the Slytherin common room over the holidays. Your eyes had nearly fallen out of your head when you had seen him sitting cross-legged on the floor, highly engrossed with a bunch of plastic dinosaurs.

You had shot Mattheo a mystified look as you walked by, and he had shrugged from his place on one of the armchairs. But you had noticed how the crossword he had allegedly been pouring over had gone slack in his hand. Clearly, he had been just as intrigued as you were.

"I thought you never liked playing with toys," you had started, fixing a lock of hair falling into Theo's eyes as he looked up at you. He had looked so earnest as he put the toys down that you had had to fight the urge to laugh - not at him, but at how disconcertingly happy he looked. Why, Theo would have mocked anyone who looked half as delighted any other day of the week.

You had let your thumb run along his cheekbone. Perhaps it was an unintentional reclamation of the childhood he had been robbed of.

"I didn't. But maybe I just needed more time." He had glanced back at the child crudely now scribbling in his sketchbook and winced. "Erm, fourteen years more time."

You had nodded, trying to be more discreet about your staring at the smear of dirt you had just noticed on the side of his face. He had no idea. Over Theo's shoulder, you had frowned questioningly at Mattheo. Sand pit, he had mouthed back at you.

"You always were slow on the uptake," you had murmured. Something must have shown in yours or Mattheo's expression because he had started glancing between the two of you, gingerly touching his face.

"What? Is there something on my face?"

"No," the both of you chorused.

"I don't see anything on your face. Mattheo, do you see anything on Theo's face?"

"Not a speck," Mattheo had agreed, nonchalantly returning to his crossword. You had tapped Theo's face, making him flinch.

"You need to stop being so obsessed with your looks. Vanity doesn't become you."

And before he could catch on - as he was dangerously close to, if that suspicious frown of his was any indication - you excused yourself to put your coat away. Neither of you had wanted to snap Theo out of whatever weird trance he was in. A moment like that deserved to be preserved.

Standing in Theo's room, you suddenly felt claustrophobic, overwhelmed by memories you hadn't given a second thought in years. There was so much tragedy written in every crack in the wall. How did Theo bear it? Did he simply not see it?

You walked out of the room and explained to Theo's aunt that you were just heading out for a bit of fresh air. If she noticed how upset you looked, she didn't comment on it. Once you left, you started walking very quickly very blindly, anything to put as much distance between yourself and that house of horrors.

Eventually, you walked until there was nowhere else to walk, ending up at an old, slightly grimy playground. You sat on one of the swings, replaying those scenes you couldn't seem to move on from. The pallor on Theo's face as he shivered from that fever. The blood-soaked rag he had held to his mouth to stem the flow of blood. The grit that had decorated the side of his beautiful face. You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear the leaves crunching under the footsteps that approached you.

"Oh, my days," a familiar voice crowed from behind you, "is that Y/N L/N I see before me?"

You froze. He must have spotted you on his way back. You couldn't bring yourself to turn around to face him just yet.

"You're in my spot, you know," Theo continued smoothly. "That's the best spot on the swing set right there."

Reluctantly, you glanced behind to see Theo standing behind you, wearing a thick denim jacket, his teasing expression slightly shadowed by his stupid hair that was always falling into his stupid face, and all you can think is, he has no idea.

As soon as you turned, his face softened into something more concerned.

"Are you...crying?"

You brushed a hand against your cheek and realised he was right. You sniffed, turning away from him. Theo moved to kneel in front of you almost immediately, gently clasping your elbows when you refused to meet his gaze.

"Are you hurt? Did someone hurt you? Who hurt you?"

You shook your head. "No one hurt me."

Theo stared at you unrelentingly. There it was, the bloodlust. "What happened, cara mia?"

"Nothing," you said unconvincingly. "I was waiting for you at your house but I wanted a bit of fresh air."

"Was it my aunt? Did she say something? Honestly, the things she says about my hair -"

You laughed through your tears abruptly, and you could see Theo relax fractionally at your smile. You bit your lip hard enough to almost draw blood. Anything to stop the crying.

"No," you were saying, "your aunt was very sweet. She let me wait in your room."

"Okay."

"And there were -"

"- magazines?"

You frowned at Theo, who looked unreasonably panicked. "You have magazines in your room?"

He hesitated for a moment, before delicately clearing his throat. "No, of course not. So what did you see?"

"Pictures. From years ago."

"Oh, yeah. What about them?"

You stared back at him, fidgeting restlessly. How could you explain why you were suddenly so upset when you didn't fully understand it yourself? The pictures in his room were nothing revelatory - in fact, wasn't that why it was so heartbreaking? You knew what his life had been like, and you knew how it had shaped him. But maybe something about seeing unflinching proof of it firsthand made it all the more unbearable.

And then you started bawling again.

"I just -" you choked out, "you had such an awful time as a kid- no mother, a good-as-dead father -"

Theo had this strange look on his face like he was desperately trying not to laugh.

"Y/N," he was saying gently, "they're just pictures. And all that was such a long time ago. I'm fine." He grinned. "Really."

You glared at him. You had half a mind to shove him away.

"Well, I'm not fine. How do you expect me to turn a blind eye to your hellish childhood? When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours that I care for you and I love you and it hurts to think about all those years you spent unloved?"

That sobered the both of you fairly quickly. After all that, Theo had the audacity to blink at you like some half-wit goldfish.

"...what?"

You pressed on impatiently. "You have to understand," you muttered through gritted teeth, "I cannot help but wish you didn't have to deal with - with any of this. Year after year, I see you trying so hard, trying your best even with all the odds stacked against y- and you're amused. Honestly, you're impossible. I'm baring my heart, sobbing my fucking lungs out, and you look like you want to laugh."

"It's just..." Theo shook his head as he trailed off, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "I haven't thought about any of that in a while."

His eyes crinkled, and suddenly the runt of a boy from the picture and the long-legged nineteen-year-old in front of you were one and the same.

"I don't feel unloved." He dragged his thumb down the vein in the crook of your elbow, all while looking at you like you were the most precious thing he'd ever seen. "Not anymore."

Your hand crept up until they were holding his face. He stiffened slightly, not like he wanted to pull away, but like he didn't know what to expect. You leaned forward, brushing his nose against yours, feeling his warm breath tickle your face. He wasn't pushing you away. If anything, his grip on your elbow turned more vice-like as his eyes fluttered close.

Maybe you misread his signals. Maybe he'd hate you for this afterwards. But you couldn't bring yourself to care at the moment.

A sweet memory to balance out all the bitter ones his home held.

[meimei-archives]

BODY PARTY!:: rafe cameron

WARNING! ::professional boxer! Rafe , blood, fighting, rough sex, marking, slight public sex, manager! reader, man handling, oral.

SUMMARY! :: after yet another win for Rafe you insist on cleaning his cuts after a shower leads to the both of you celebrating in a completely different way than expected.

You were front row watching Rafe, the smell of sweat and stale concession stand food almost made you feel nauseous if it wasn't for the way he was bouncing on the tips of his feet waiting for his opponent to tap gloves with him, clenching his teeth against his mouth guard showing off his prominent and sharp jawline.

Once and a while you could see his sharp eyes flicker from the referee and the guy he was facing. In the front row dressed all pretty, wearing one of the necklaces he had gifted to you and a cute small dress was you; his manager. He knew people didn't take him seriously because of how polite and pretty you were. They expected easy losses out of him, but if they saw how lenient you were during his training sessions or before his matches they'd understand you weren't just some airhead.

He watched as you gave him a bright smile and a thumbs up. He couldn't help the smirk on his lips. "Who's that? She's something ain't that right Cameron?" His opponent laughed at the sly comment while his greedy eyes never left your figure. Rafe felt his brow twitch at the words "watch your mouth" he said sternly as he felt heat on his skin from sheer annoyance.

"That's your play thing Cameron?" The man asks with a scoff, Rafe knew he was trying to be funny; trying to get to his head, but he's done this way too many times to even let it get under his skin. That wasn't going to stop him from ripping whoever this guy was apart and going back to his hotel with double the money he came in with. Not even bothering to answer him he knocks gloves with him and steps back while the ref signals the bell to chime.

You prepped Rafe for this, he knew what he was getting into when he signed to fight the boy who was about a year or two older than him, he was much newer to fighting in the ring which was just an advantage. But since Rafe had been doing this since he graduated high school he was much more experienced with the fighters, and the atmosphere. You could only count how many losses Rafe has had on one hand and you knew for a fact that Rafe wasn't going to fly all the way from North Carolina to Brooklyn without putting in the work for a show.

The both of them circling around the ring with raised gloves nearing to exchange punches. You could never understand how Rafe took a punch like it was nothing, almost like he enjoyed taking the hits, because it did nothing but push him to hit back harder. Rafe always knew how to get the crowd going, he would fight at least two rounds before absolutely running through his opponent until they gave up or it was a K.O regardless every time he did it he always had a crowd coming back for another fight.

He was on his 2 minute break in between rounds, the cutmen sitting him in his corner as he poured water into his hair and mouth letting the water spill into a metal bucket coming out pink, putting Vaseline on his cuts that were starting to bleed out. Rafe usually would've dropped his opponent by now, he was a shit talker and Rafe just let anything he heard go from one ear out the other, and it was usually the same bullshit.

'You can't fight' or 'your good looks won't save you' and Rafe never took it to heart because it's the same people talking that are being knocked on their ass and being wheeled back to their locker rooms. But this guy, no. He was bringing you into this, and Rafe had no reason to give him any remorse especially when he was being straight up vile and gross.

When they were both called back into the center Rafe could feel the sweat and water build up on his neck and shoulders. Rafe watches his opponent as if he was waiting for the right moment to send him to the ground, holding up his fist damn near ready to pounce on the guy who was just as tall if not a few inches taller than Rafe, blonde and tattoos all over his skin that nobody could miss.

Rafe couldn't miss the smirk on his lips as he sauntered towards him throwing sloppy and lazy punches that were barely even landing "you think your girl would wear that dress for me when I get her in bed?" He asked, huffing out almost slurring his words. Rafe could only clench his fist feeling a wave of straight anger wash over him completely. Cocking his hand back and letting one loose right to the center of the blonde's face he didn't stop as he saw him drop to the floor.

Straddling over his hips Rafe didn't hesitate to keep the hits going, one after the other people in the crowd almost shocked at how he wasn't letting up regardless of how you could tell the man under him was knocked out. "The fuck is he doing? He's gonna throw the match" you could hear Topper just a seat away looking almost stressed watching his friend use his opponent like a personal punching bag.

When the referee pulled at his shoulder Rafe finally pulled away with the deepest glare you've ever seen on his face, his gloves stained a crimson shade as he backed away from the unconscious and bloody man on the floor. Waiting to see if the man could beat a simple 10 count and get back to his feet but failed Rafe's hand was raised in all its glory as they announced his win.

The warm and sticky blood that gathered in small chunks at his hairline, and split lip, and dark bruises on the corner of jaw and the expanse of his back and shoulders began to bloom while sweat was dripping off his body. He stood in the middle of the ring as his publicity team swarmed in with congratulations and after party plans.

Leaving the small barricades that separated the crowd and the ring you find yourself going through the ropes and inside the squared ring filled with your coworkers and friends. Smiling as you near him, the copper smell of blood and hints of sweat filled your lungs as you can feel the mat underneath your feet shake from the jumping and cheering Rafe stood with a similar smile holding open his arms for you to hug him.

Regardless of his sweat seeping through the fabric of your dress or how warm all over you felt under his embrace you mumble words of encouragement "you did good, I'm proud of you. But you gotta stop losing your temper" you shake your head grasping his wrist that rested on your lower back comfortably.

Lifting over both of your heads you both face the crowd with smiles as you knew the both of your faces would be in the tabloids by the next morning, but from all the yelling and talking over other people you could feel a headache coming. Though it didn't matter much as you, Rafe, and the rest of your team decided to retreat back to his locker room.

Being stopped along the way by the press asking him questions, his heavy arm around your waist as he smiles and answers the simple questions, answering a few questions yourself as you hold Rafe's gloves under your arm you could feel his eyes practically burn through you when it was your turn to speak.

The both of you are making into the less busy locker room a few of his friends sticking around to make plans. Rafe sat on the padded bench as he looked at his taped up hands and wrist, he could feel dried up blood building up at his hairline and the small split on the middle of his lip starting to become sore.

You sit down beside him as Kelce and Topper talk about plans of a dinner or a get-together later tonight in celebration, but you could tell that Rafe wasn't really listening. Your brows scrunch together as you see him picking at the tape trying to unravel it and his silence was slowly becoming apparent. "You guys wanna give us a minute? I'll call you if we need anything" you mumbled to them as they eye their friend worriedly the youngest nodded.

They retreat to the door "we're gonna head back to the hotel, if you do decide to go out tonight just give me a call" Kelce mumbles before closing the door behind them. The silence in the room starts to get louder, your mouth opens but your words die in your throat seeing him finally getting the dingy tape off his skin and releasing a sigh.

Tossing the blood stained adhesive into the trash he walks further into his locker room towards his shower , you could hear the water hitting the tile and small grunts and winces of pain as he cleans off the blood and cuts off his body with soap and water. You space out for a while and let Rafe think in peace, you knew he would tell you whatever was on his mind sooner or later.

But once he finally finished showering you watched him walk back into the main area the cuts on his face still fresh and bleeding, it bugged you. His towel low on his hips, and his hair clean and messily slicked back with a few thin strands falling in his face. "You want me to clean your cuts so we can get out of here faster?" You ask quietly, watching him sit in a metal chair that sits in front of a long mirror. Shrugging at your question, you took your chance.

Opening the nearest locker you find a mini first aid kit, seeing everything you need inside you sit on the floor beside the leg of the chair and open a small pack of cotton pads, and rubbing alcohol. The smell alone made both of your faces scrunch as you lean close to his face attempting to find the cuts covered in dried blood.

"You wanna tell me why you beat that dude's face in?" You ask as you gently swiped away at the cut on the corner of his forehead that made him shut his eyes tightly at the stinging pain. "Doesn't matter," he said as his hands tightened around the edges of his seat. "It does if you almost threw a match because of it. I don't get why all of a sudden you're being your normal self, and next thing you know you are bashing his face in" you huff.

You and Rafe have gone over things with his anger and little to none patience, Rafe has moved past being provoked and talked down to, and ever since you've never seen him lose his cool like that up until now. "Even if it's something dumb, you know you can tell me right?" You ask as you discard the bloody cotton pad.

Sighing Rafe caves as he opens his eyes to meet your gaze "he was talking about you" he mumbled. His voice is gruff and frustrated, you can tell he was getting angry just rethinking about it. "What?" You were confused, what could have possibly set Rafe off about you? "He was talking about sleeping with you, just being disrespectful and shit" he rolled his eyes.

You scoff "you got mad about that?" You ask which makes his brows furrow at the question "of course I'm gonna get mad y/n, we work together. I know you personally, and I'm not gonna let somebody talk about you like that" he said, you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin as he spoke. "You shouldn't. You have more to worry about than some dude talking shit" you say picking up another pad and putting alcohol on it, you tilt his chin looking at his cuts.

"Well I do. I don't like when people talk about you in any way, you just do your job and you get shit on for no reason" he explains which makes you roll your eyes yet look to meet his gaze as you feel him stare into your soul. "It's a part of my job. I knew what I signed up for, even if you don't like it that's not gonna keep people from doing it. Don't get so worked up over it" you shake your head at him.

The silence in the locker room was becoming overbearing, holding a strong glare. Rafe was not listening to a single word you had to say, he didn't care if this was your job or not, you don't deserve that. His bruised hand reaching your jaw, his thumb drawing comforting circles on your skin "you don't deserve that, that's why I'm so worked up over it. You've been around since my first match, were roommates. I know everything there is to know about you, so why would I not get upset over shit like that?" He asks but more rhetorically.

"Your job is to fight Rafe, not bash people's heads in because of a stupid friend" you mumbled, shaking your head showing your disapproval once more, you move his hand to clean up his cuts once more. "You're not just a stupid friend" he scoffs. "I am, the only thing I really do is look out for your schedule, your P.R interviews and shit. Nothing special" you let out a small chuckle under your breath. Standing him to your full height

Rafe's eyes never leave your face as he pulls at your wrist moving it away from his face, his hand that once cupped your jaw pulls you in, Rafe closing the remainder of space between you both as his soft lips press to yours. You felt like you had been shocked, you didn't move for what felt like seconds until you pulled away and blinked rapidly. "I don't want you to be just some stupid friend or manager to me" he whispered.

You huff out a sigh before leaning back in and pressing your lips to his, being more confident with your actions your hands find themselves raking through his hair tugging it softly, groaning against your lips.

Letting out a small groan, Rafe's hand makes way to the fabric of your dress, clutching it in his fist and pulling your hips closer against him sends him into a small daze.His tongue now licking a stripe on your bottom lip begging for access, parting your lips, his tongue immediately brushing against yours, mixing your saliva. As you suck on his tongue the remnants of blood and mint. Realizing what the both of you are doing you pull away "we shouldn't be doing this" you say.

Your foreheads pressed together and noses grazing each other, Rafe shakes his head "I don't care about all of that right now" he slurs feeling the weight of the punches and kicks he had taken. Kissing at the corner of your lip smudging your lipgloss.

Rafe has always been professional with you, outside of work you two are like the best of friends, this was a line you had never thought to cross said line, but the feeling of his lips against yours made you feel fuzzy. You didn't care about the line anymore and both of you are now toppling over it. "I just want you" he mumbled as he pressed his nose against your; eyes clouded with an unknown feeling.

You smile lazily as you lean into him, giving him a chaste kiss. You both smile like kids as you pull apart. His hands trail from the bunched up fabric of your dress to your thighs pulling them apart "sit" he whispers making you nod and blink dreamily as you choke back a whimper at the sheer friction between his thighs and your pussy.

Arching your back until your chests press against each other, hands all over each other touching any part of each other that possibly could be in this position. Rafe couldn't help but grind up against you as the warmth of your core rubs against the throbbing bulge held behind his towel, the fabric running against the both of you earning a moan.

Pressing your lips against Rafe eager to steal ever last breath out of his lungs as your hands grip at his hair. Rafe doesn't hide his needs as his hands slide all around your body anywhere he could reach. Moaning against each others lips Rafe presses his forehead against yours as you both part panting against each other.

"You really wanna do this here?" He asks huskily turning you on even more. "I don't care if we did it in the car I just want you Rafe" you whisper against his lips making him smile, feeling on top of the world at your response. Rafe knew his feelings for you were beyond just Manager and client, but he knew to never go beyond that. But right now... he really didn't give a damn.

Pulling the tight skirt of your dress over your ass until it bunches at the waist, his palms Slide Over the soft skin as your lace panties; wet and sticky cover everything he's craving at the moment. Groping and kneading the skin harshly making you moan as your hips press down against his once again, his hands guide you against his towel covered lap.

Biting your lip harsh enough you could almost break flesh. "You think you can cum like this for me?" He asks sending shivers up your spine thinking of rutting yourself against the dirty blonde haired man until you hit your peak "mhm" you respond giving a small nod choking up your words with whimpers.

Your arms slink around his shoulder as you rest your head against the nape of his neck letting stimulation get the best of you. The fabric of your panties rubbing against your clit makes you feel utterly dizzy. "Just like that, you feel good?" He asks under his breath landing a harsh slap against your ass making you moan louder "feels so good" you whimper "you make me feel good Rafe" you moan as your hips recoil into his as the tension in your stomach grows.

Rafe could feel a wet patch of your slick deep through the towel over his hard cock making him bite his lip in satisfaction. He could see how much faster your hips are grinding into him showing how close you were to cumming, Rafe wraps his arms around your waist pressing your chest tightly to his as he grinds up against you.

The sound of the chair scraping against the concrete floors is almost background sounds to the both of you too wrapped up in getting your much wanted orgasm. "You're gonna make me cum" you whine as your eyes shut tightly and your eyebrows scrunch together "yeah? Do it" he says sternly making you shutter as your jaw slacks at the overwhelming feeling "fuck" you sob as your nails dig into Rafes back.

Hissing at the feeling Rafes hips come to a stop, his hands rub your thighs as they slightly shake. "You okay?" He asks with an airy laugh at your fatigued face that pulls away from his body "yeah, just give me a second" you whisper coming down from your high as the constant throbbing between your thighs starts.

Pulling yourself out of his lap your knees buckle feeling like jelly, you lower yourself fully until your knees press into the harsh concrete, not minding it much your hands trail over the white towel tucked around Rafes waist, looking up at him with soft eyes "you don't have to do anything" he speaks up and it makes you smile. This was the considerate and caring Rafe you had always known, never selfish and always seeking just a smidgen of approval from anyone he could when he could.

"I want to do this with you, nobody else" you say as your fingers brush against the skin of his lower stomach as they hook over the tightly wrapped towel. You were eager, the new found feeling was overstimulating in all the right ways. Pulling the fabric away from his lap now completely exposed to the cold air Rafe shivers, he doesn't know if it's from excitement or the decrease in temperature but either way he felt like he was in heaven.

The way your hands travel over his thighs makes his breath get caught in his throat, your eyes rake over his body with a look he's never seen on your face but regardless he loves it. you wet the palm of your hands with your tongue before taking his cock into your fist, slowly jerking and teasing the tip with your thumb.

His head falls back with no support from the chair he mutters out "fuck" as his hands grip at the towel underneath him. And when you finally put him in your mouth, finally swallow down the already there taste of him on your tongue—you both let out a moan. Can feel the top half of him shift like his head has fallen back, an image of his beautifully parted mouth hung open, eyes screwed shut in pleasure has you moaning against him again; your body on fire, your pussy aching.

You match the pumps of your hand with the drag of your mouth up and down his dick. Swirl your tongue around the head and suck when you reach it. Let yourself go as far as your gag reflex will let you until you're gagging around him and he's cursing and digging his nails into the side of the chair once again.

And when you steal a glance to the side you can see how red his knuckles look from the death grip he has the towel. How his fingers twitch and hand runs along his thigh, acting as if he wants to touch you but not daring to. You steal another glance up at him, "oh fuck" tumbling from his lips when your eyes meet; he looks so desperate in the moment. He didn't want release, he needed it, Rafe had never been a begging man but in the moment Rafe would do just about anything to cum.

you keep your nose pressed into the skin of his pelvis until you physically can't, pulling off of him with a loud pop. your cheek is wet with tears, and your chin is slick with spit, the two coalescing at the tip into a sticky mess.

the sight makes him twitch in your hand, because this is what he's been dreaming of. This was his selfish wish, to see you below him with this expression. eyes all doe-eyed and desperate. But it also doesn't take Rafe much time before he lets his eyes flutter shut his hips now slowly bucking into your mouth, groaning at the feeling of your throat closing around him tightly.

he can't help but to reach out and rub the heavy pad of his thumb over your parting lips, pressing the salty digit flat against your tongue, and retreating it in the same breath to hook it around your cheek.

a string of profanities leave his lips. he's close, and you can tell by the way he begins to fuck into your face with a slight roughness. to guide him there, you begin to hollow your cheeks and narrow your throat, using a single hand to massage his thigh digging your nails into his skin.

he can feel you start to get riled up, and when you start to scratch and claw at his thighs for air, that does it for him. with a final, lazy thrust, he releases the entirety of his load down your throat, keeping you pressed down on him until he's sure every last bit has been spilled.

Pulling away slowly, your breathing uneven and filled with small coughs and hiccups, your hand rests on his scratched up thighs, Rafe looks at you with nothing but lust. Your swollen lips, your mascara staining your cheeks, his hand cupping your jaw to bring you close his nose brushing against yours as your heavy breathing mixes with his.

"You're so fucking beautiful" he grumbles as he presses his lips against yours harshly parting your lips with his tongue messily running yours against his. Slowly without breaking the kiss Rafe moves himself out of the chair, his own knees feeling a slight sting at the feeling. Guiding you down to your back as the kiss grows more hungry as he grinds his bare cock against your panties growing frustrated at the very little skin on skin contact, his hands settling on your upper thighs slither until his hands are underneath the fabric of your dress.

His fingers find the elastic band of your panties finally pushing them down your thighs and past your ankles where he recklessly tosses them out of his way to only who knows where. Your dress being the only obstacle left he pulls the zipper tugging your arms through the sleeves easily he damn near rips you dress off at the seems just to see your body in all its glory. He doesn't take his eyes off of you not even for a second his eyes follow every dip and curve with the most adoration one could hold in their gaze and it makes you feel warm.

His eyes rake over you from top to bottom as his eyes latch onto the sight of your thighs glistening in slick. He hissed through his teeth absentmindedly his hand gently travels between your thighs as his thumb presses between your slit making friction with your sensitive clit making you whine at the feeling. His hand leaving your body he takes his length into his own hand gripping himself.

"You look so good like this" He says as he presses his tip against your slit teasingly sliding against it as it makes a slick sound as your essence covers his tip and shaft, dipping his tip into your entrance Rafe sucks in a deep breath as he pushes into you groaning at the feeling of your tight walls enveloping his tip.

Pushing deeper inside you he lets out a moan "fuck you feel so good" he says as he catches his bottom lip in between his teeth. "You're so big" you gasp, feeling how good he filled you up to the brim as you feel him begin to slowly move. Rafe couldn't get enough of the sight as his cock disappeared inside you.

His cock buried deep inside you makes you moan and your nails into palms as your chest is pressed against the cold hard floor making your nipples perk and a shiver run down your spine; setting a pace for bouncing against him. The feeling of your velvety walls tightening around making him choke back a moan.

"Oh- god" you whisper shakily. His hands holding onto your hips guiding a pace, the soft sound of skin slapping with your small moans could be heard throughout the room.

A small sheen of sweat on your skin and your makeup smeared while your ass bounced on his cock it was addicting. "You like being fucked like this?" He asks as he bucks his hips into your sharply.

Moaning at his dirty words and sudden surge of confidence your head falls into your hands muffling your sweet voice Rafe's palm sharply smacks your ass "Answer me" he says groaning as he soothes the stinging feelings on your warm skin.

"Mhm, I want people to hear how good you fuck me" you say lifting your head from your hands as you bite your bottom lip hard as you hear how wet you are with each thrust he gave you. Rafe; eager to let his load off inside you, holds your hips stopping you from bouncing any longer and begins to thrust his hips into you harder. The feeling of his tip pushing at your cervix.

His hips piston into you as your thighs and ass jiggle at the repetitive thrusts "right there" You moan as you feel him pounding in a certain part of your walls. You tighten around him as your essence forms a white ring around the base of his dick.

"Just like that, I just want you to cum inside me" you babble mindlessly as his stomach churns at the words spewing out. "Yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum?" he groans as the knot in your stomach begins to tighten and his death grip on the fat of your ass almost sending you over the edge if it wasn't for how hard he was pounding you.

You nod eagerly as you begin to alternate between grinding and bouncing, your nails drag against his inner thigh leaving behind a red and irritated trail- yet he didn't mind it as it pushed him closer to his orgasm.

Leaning down with his chest to your back Rafe presses his lips to yours moaning against each other's lips pushing you closer and closer. Your back arching even more as you move faster wanting to cum so badly "keep going. Don't stop" he groaned, letting his head fall back.

His hair messily pushed against his forehead as it was covered in sweat and his eyes rolled back "god I'm gonna cum" he says breathily as you grind back against him to meet his thrusts as the sticky sound of him pounding your sloppy pussy resides in the air of the locker room.

The room was warm and all you could care about was how good your best friend was fucking you. "You like having an audience to be fucked like a slut in front of huh?" He says as he grips onto your hips harder to stop your movement as he pounds into a spongy part of your walls.

His hair sticking to his forehead and his breath becoming heavier "I love being fucked like a slut" you rasp as you hear his breathy laugh at your words desperate to feel release "good" he says as he fucks into you harder. "Tell me how much of a slut you are" he groans as his nails dig into your hips, "I'm such a fucking slut for you, god I'm your cockslut" you whine as his thrusts are deeper and sharp it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Pulling your back to his chest hitting an angle inside you that made you see white as your ass bounced into his lap your hands desperately thrash to grip your own thigh as a result of overwhelming pleasure.. "Oh fuck- just like that, You're gonna make me cum" he moaned deeply into the nape of your neck.

Letting out a string of whines you clench harder "I'm close" he moaned as he began to twitch inside you, his words buzzing in your ears making you grind against him eagerly "please let me cum" you beg as you turn your head over your shoulder to look at Rafe who was absolutely pussy drunk on the feeling of you.

"You gonna cum?" he asks as his hand falls between your thighs, his fingers press against your clit "You gonna fucking cum?" he asks rhetorically as his words slur, you nod as your breathing becomes uneven "do it" he says pushing you back down into the cold ground roughly gripping your hips and you were sure it would leave bruises his eyes roll back as he feels how you clench around him and let your orgasm washes over you, with a few more hard thrusts he would also be tipping over the edge to his orgasm moaning as his thick white strings of cum fills you up leaving your body feeling warm and fuzzy.

Fucking you both through your highs your thighs clench shut as overstimulation creeps up on you your moans began to come out choked which makes Rafe slow down his pace until his hips were no longer moving against yours.

Pulling out you both hiss, as his cum drips down your thigh Rafe chuckles at the sight almost wanting to use his fingers to fuck his cum back inside you but deems you're too fucked out. He pulls away completely standing on shaky legs walking off to the bathroom to grab a clean towel wet with warm water to clean you off. You breathe heavily, almost too lazy to pick yourself up looking at the mirror perched against the wall seeing how your face was most likely in it.

Your actions finally sink in. You hear the footsteps near you, Rafe walks back into the locker room he wipes you off rubbing small soothing circles into your thighs he wipes you down clean. Rafe would be sure you were getting treatment you deserve even if it wasn't in the most romantic place.

After he takes care of you can hear "I'm sorry if I was being too rough," he says softly as he looks at you with soft eyes "don't worry about it. I like that stuff anyways" you say with a chuckle you roll over onto your side you look at your best friend "it felt good. No need to be sorry" you say waving him off. Rafe sighs in content, almost nervous that he had hurt you or took too much of his anger out on you.

"Get up, you need a shower before we go back to the hotel" he says rubbing your sore thighs. You bite back a groan as you think about actually having to leave your spot on the ground. Your body feeling sticky and covered in sweat, You cave sitting up. You press your hand to your sore back thinking about how harshly your back had been pushed against it. Rafe holds a hand out to you as he coaxes you into a warm shower.

You hadn't thought about the fall out of the matter, you have in fact slept with your best friend, the person you live with, and spend every day with. You had no idea what was going to happen tomorrow but you didn't let that thought sink in that much as well when Rafe's more intimate with you, the lingering touches, the small pecks on your lips as he washes you up with the soap he had packed in his bag. The smell of him washes over you as you let all of your thoughts wash away with the soapy water down the drain of the shower.

You'd just have to worry about it another time.

[yutarot]

butterfly. l.jn

guitarist!jeno, college au, band au, friends to lovers, fluff

wc. 8k

synopsis. after you and three other students transfer to a new college, a rumour goes around that the lead guitarist of the college’s rock band has a thing for one of the transfers. you don’t care, not until the transfer you had grown closest to disappears and only one name runs through your head as to who’s at fault: lee jeno.

warnings. depictions of bullying, reader has a hard time in the beginning, reader has character development, language, mention of alcohol

you have never liked attention, it has always seemed to overwhelm you. you never even had a birthday party when you were younger, the fear of a group of people singing happy birthday for you and only you worried you beyond belief. so when a video of you falling in the middle of a lecture on your way to the bathroom began circulating around your college, you knew that it was time to transfer to another college as far away as humanly possible.

so that leads you to now, feet rooted in place as you stand at the door of your new dorm, running your hands through your hair in the fear of either a weird or rude roommate. you take your time in knocking, eventually deciding to get it over with. 

when the door opens, the girl on the other side of the threshold gasps, noticing the suitcase by your side. 

‘oh my god, come in!’

her enthusiasm throws you backwards as you smile, hesitantly walking through the door and letting her take your things, placing them on one of the beds.

she reaches out her hand to shake yours, ‘im karina, but most people back home call me rina.’

you take her hand, noticing the sweetness of her smile as she looks at you. after a moment of silence, you realise what she had said.

people back home?

‘you’re a transfer student too?’ you ask. 

she grins, lighting up and nodding at your question. 

the next few hours, you spend time getting to know each other: your food preferences, what time you sleep, and eventually each other's majors - hers being communications whilst yours is economics. you also learn that karina had only been here for a few hours before you, her energy and productivity just meant that she had unpacked in impossible speed.

you practically spend the whole night in excitement, cooking dinner and listening to music.  you even learnt about each other's past relationships, watching her face drop when you explained you’d been single your whole life. it was nice, more than nice, to have a friend you click with that quickly, and you thank whoever is looking over you for having put you both in a dorm together.

the next morning, you had made it to your first class far too early, insisting that you walk with karina to her class before waiting around for yours. you hadn’t spoken to anyone else yet, learning instead from the chatter of conversations around you that this semester there were four transfers, you, karina and two you hadn’t met yet. you stay quietly tucked against the wall as you wait, disliking the looks of confusion as people see you waiting for a class they’ve never seen you in before, but you disregard it, it’s better than the looks you got last year. 

when the lecture before yours eventually floods out, you silently creep in, securing your seat at the back corner of the hall before anyone else arrives. something inside of you secretly hopes that someone sits beside you, offering you their friendship, but by the time the lecture starts, the seat beside you remains empty, disappointment fading into your chest as you try to not let it bother you. 

instead, there was something else bothering you: the indistinct feeling of somebody watching you. that was not something you weren’t used to feeling, so like always, you ignore it; nothing good can ever come out of having a pair of eyes trained on you. 

to say that the lecture was boring was an understatement. leaving the hall, you spot karina waiting for you by a bench and you make a direct beeline in her direction. 

‘how was your first class?’ she asks, standing up the moment she sees you. 

‘pretty boring.’ you drone. ‘you?’

‘aww. i made friends with one of the other transfers! her name is sakura and she's soooo sweet.’

your interest peaks at the mention of another transfer student. immediately you ask karina for more details, but when she replies complaining about only exchanging a few words with her, the subject moves swiftly on. 

‘so..’ karina starts, walking side by side with you as you make your way back to your dorm, ‘you don’t have anything planned tonight, do you?’ she asks. 

you furrow your brows, ‘nope, haven’t exactly made any other friends..’

‘perfect!’ she bursts in reply, ‘me and you are going to karaoke.’

your heart stills. ‘absolutely not.’

‘come onnn, it’ll be fun.’

the look she gives you makes you feel as though if you don’t accept her offer, she’ll likely go with someone else instead, and with her as your only friend, it would be nice to keep her around. 

you give her a look of inconfidence before slowly nodding. she jumps up and down, pulling you into a hug as she takes your arm, running towards the dorm in excitement.

why the hell did you say yes, you ask yourself, sitting nervously on the sofa of the karaoke room you and karina occupy, watching as she sings her heart out to ‘little light’. you clutch your fingers in your palm, trying to ignore the sweat that has accumulated due to your nerves. it’s been nearly 4 years since you last sang, and now you’re about to break that. she’s about to see a side of you you’ve never shown anyone else before, all except the shampoo bottles that line the shelves in your bathroom. 

as her song comes to a stop, you give her a well deserved round of applause; the entire song may have consisted of her shouting down the mic, entirely out of breath, but it was incredibly entertaining. 

‘thank you, thank you.’ she bows in laughter before sitting down. only then do you realise that it’s your turn, getting up and standing where karina just was, trying to ignore your knees as they attempt to buckle beneath you. 

you look through the song book, scanning the pages until a song jumps out at you. you used to sing this song to yourself every time you felt angry, using it to compress any emotion that threatened to break through your minds well constructed walls. you take the remote, pressing in the numbers for ‘stop crying your heart out’ by oasis. 

the music begins, flourishing through you like a fever, gripping a vice-like hold on your heart as it ripples through you. you hold the mic to your lips, letting the melody leave you, alongside all the thoughts and suffocating emotions that have been trapped within you for the past few months. it’s freeing, but incredibly captivating. it’s only after the song finishes that you remember where you are, the colourful lights of the karaoke room fading into darkness and the silence that follows strikes your gut in fear.

but it’s the look on karina's face that truly shocks you.

she stands there, completely and utterly in awe. not a word leaves either of you, completely bewildered by the past 4 minutes. 

‘wow…’ she whispers, ‘you can sing.’

you laugh to yourself quietly. ‘not really..’

‘not really?! yn you just sang the most beautiful thing i’ve ever heard in my entire life!’ she says, walking towards you in excitement. 

ever so slightly, you let a proud smile slip. noones ever complimented your singing before. noones ever gotten a chance to hear you.

‘thank you.’ you grin. 

‘i don’t know how i’m ever going to live up to that.’ she says, scrolling through the songbook. 

you grab her attention, ‘why don’t we sing a duet!’

‘i thought you’d never ask!’ she exclaims. 

telling her you need to grab a drink before you start, asking her if she wants anything too, you step outside the karaoke room, walking to the main desk.

quietly, you sing the tune you just sang to yourself, the melody stuck in your head. 

you make it to the front desk, asking the woman sat there for two more drinks. you feel an inpatient presence behind you and take note to order your drinks a little quicker. you take them and head back to the karaoke room, karina jumping up when you arrive and immediately pressing the button for ‘2 baddies.’

the next few days, you and karina are inseparable, spending all your free time together around campus, studying together, eating together. you’re glad to have her around, not knowing what you would do without her. 

you’re sitting on a table in the library when you hear a voice from above you. 

‘karina and yn right?’ he says, looking between you. ‘i’m chenle, i heard you guys are transfers too?’

you look at karina, her face is, like always, filled with joy at meeting someone new. you don’t understand how she does it. 

‘yes! i’m karina, that’s yn! sit with us.’ she says, motioning to the empty space beside you.

he takes a seat, placing his bag by his feet. 

you learn he’s a math major so you and him get on pretty well, discussing your classes. you try your best to be outgoing, but you can tell karina can see you're struggling when she takes over the conversation. 

however, your discussion is cut short when chenles friends come over, calling for him to join them and laughing, talking about something to do with a poster. 

you ignore it, going back to studying. it’s probably something stupid, you tell yourself.

it was definitely not something stupid.

after finishing your assignments at the library, you and karina decide it’s time for a snack before you head back to your dorm. unlike usual, you decide to go to the main cafeteria, somewhere you’ve avoided for the past week for the pure fact that it always seems far too busy to get a seat. 

but today, all the people in the cafeteria don’t seem to be sat at tables. instead, they all form herds around multiple sections at the edges of the hall, seemingly noticing something that’s hung up on all of the walls.

all of the people except one group of girls.

as you and karina walk in, the groups of people grow weary, a shift in their excitement suddenly simmering around the room.

curious to see what all of the fuss is about, you make your way to one of the posters, but when you read the words printed on it, your entire demeanour begins to shatter. 

karina reads the words on the poster out loud, slowly and steadily relaying the message back to you. ‘a little birdy told me that guitarist of the NCU band, lee jeno, has a thing for one of the transfers. that’s unbelievable!’ she says, ripping the poster from the wall and scrunching it into a ball before eventually putting it in the bin. ‘they’re trying to make fun of us!’ she exclaims. you’ve never seen karina this annoyed. she takes your wrist before dragging you both to your dorm. 

you sit together on the sofa, digging into the takeout that karina ordered you both. 

‘urg.. i just can’t believe someone would start a stupid rumour like that. who even is lee jeno?’ she rambles.

you shrug your shoulders, denying the fact that the name is ever so slightly familiar to you. you had heard a group of girls talking about him in your lecture, describing him like he’s some sort of profound campus celebrity. 

suddenly, a thought hits you. 

‘if he’s a member of the college rock band, surely he’ll be on their instagram?’ you suggest. 

karina shrieks, ‘yes! you’re right.’

she grabs her phone, typing ‘NCUband’ into the search bar and eventually finding their instagram account. you peer over her shoulder, an array of images covering her screen. but one image sticks out to you. you lean over, clicking on the image, a guy with black hair in front of a dark blue background lighting up on karina's phone. you look at the caption, ‘#JENO.’

‘holy shit, it’s him.’ karina says, eyes fixated on the screen ahead of her. you giggle at her blushing. 

not because you find her behaviour odd, but because you relate to her reaction entirely. that’s one incredibly attractive man if you’ve ever seen one. 

‘i’m starting to hope it’s me that he’s crushing on.’ karina jokes, and you playfully hit her arm. 

after scrolling through the comments, you learn just how popular lee jeno really is, an array of compliments under each and every post. you also scroll through the rest of the account, learning the rest of the rock bands members to be named yangyang, yuta, ten and haechan. 

‘no but seriously, don’t you think it’s kind of weird?’ you say. 

‘what do you mean?’

‘the poster and about jeno having a thing for one of us. it’s so random.’

karina nods. ‘true, but it’s kind of fun if you think about it.’

you laugh, but you’re not so sure you agree. 

that night, you lie in bed, unable to let sleep take over you. just when you think you might get a chance to get some shut-eye, someone knocks at your door. 

you hear karina shuffle out of bed, ‘i’ll get it!’ she says, running to the door. 

trusting her to deal with whoevers standing outside your dorm at 1 in the morning, you slowly drift off to sleep, letting the feeling of slumber lull you away.

loneliness. that’s what you’re afraid of, being alone. 

you’re entire life, you’ve felt like you’ve been living it by yourself, surrounded by nothing but your own thoughts. now, in a new place surrounded by new people, you’ve felt nothing but warmth and comfort. karina had given you all of that with her friendship, let you discover what it means to not live life alone. 

but all of that stopped the second you woke up.

brushing your sheets off of you, you walk to the kitchen. you expect to see karina there, as usual, studying on the table in your kitchen area, coffee on the desk ahead of her. but the table is clear, coffee machine still cold.

confused, you make your way to karina's room, knocking on her door. 

silence.

deciding she probably overslept and not wanting her to miss her morning class, you open the door. 

but when you do, your heart melts.

you’ve never felt this way before: completely and utterly helpless, world shattering before you with nothing you can do about it.

you stay standing in the threshold, unable to walk inside in fear that reality will sink in further.

her room is empty. karina is gone, along with all of her stuff.

you close the door, tears falling down your cheeks. 

your only friend, the only person you’ve ever truly connected with, has left. your mind whirs in circles at what you could have possibly done to make her want to go home.

you’re alone, the very thing you’re afraid of. 

and gaining loneliness is far more painful than maintaining it.

that day, you spend your entire time by yourself. sitting by yourself in the library, grabbing lunch by yourself, walking to class alone, all of the things you’d usually do with karina replaced by the overshadow of silence. 

you’re walking back to your dorm when you hear the sound of laughter up ahead of you, what looks like two guys walking in your direction from a distance.

it’s only when they get closer that you notice one of their faces. 

lee jeno.

you stop in your tracks, bewildered with a new sense of anger you’ve never felt before. 

he did something, you know it, he’s the reason for it. 

it must have been karina that the poster was about, he must have come looking for her last night at your dorm, he must have scared her off enough to go home.

it’s his fault.

noticing your stare, jeno and who you're presuming is his bandmate, haechan, stop ahead of you. 

jeno doesn’t say a word. 

‘uh, you okay?’ haechan speaks up, laughter lining his tone.

‘not really.’ you snap back. ‘i need to talk to jeno… alone.’

jeno’s face lights up in confusion. he turns to haechan, ‘mine and yuta’s dorm is 120, here’s the key, i'll be up in a sec.’ haechan nods before walking off. turning back to you, jeno gives you his full attention.

‘what’s up?’ he says.

‘it’s karina, isn’t it?’ you say, ‘the girl you have a thing for.’

you almost notice his laughter slip as he tries to hold it in. ‘woah, woah, woah. what??’ 

‘the poster-‘

‘i know about the poster. but why do you think it’s karen, or whatever her name is?’

‘karina,’ you correct him. ‘and because she left this morning after someone came knocking on our dorm last night! you scared her off, didn’t you?’

he looks taken aback, completely and utterly stunned at what you're implying. 

‘so, let me get this straight.’ he says, shaking his head.‘not only do you believe this rumour about me, but you think its about your roommate? and that i went to her dorm and scared her into leaving? do you realise how crazy this sounds?’ 

you listen to his words, looking down at your fingers as you play with the hem of your t-shirt. only after hearing your accusation out loud do you understand the stupidity of what you're saying. 

‘sorry..’ you say, ‘i’ll just go.’

you turn around to continue on to your dorm when you hear his voice echo from behind you. 

‘wait.’ he says. 

you turn around again, facing him. his face is unreadable. 

you wait for him to continue. 

‘don’t apologise.’ he says, a hint of a smile lining his lips. ‘it’s sweet that you care so much about your friend.’

you stand there, words unable to reach your lips. 

‘i’ll see you around, yn.’ he smiles before walking in the opposite direction.

it’s only after you make it back to your dorm that you realise you had never actually told him your name. 

the following week was difficult. you couldn’t even attempt to make new friends, whispers of why karina had suddenly disappeared, flooding the air and forming some kind of invisible repellent around you. you hate the attention, wishing you were anywhere but here as you walk through the library.

there’s not many students around, those who are here, burying their nose in whatever they’re reading. but as you walk absentmindedly through the aisles reading the book titles, you accidentally bump into the back of someone else, colliding with them and causing them to drop their book at their feet. 

‘ow!’ she yells, picking up the book and looking at you.

‘sorry..’ you say, quietly.

‘speak up, i can’t hear you.’ she says.

you want to run out of there, blood rushing through you in embarrassment.

‘i'm sorry.’ you say a little louder.

‘good.’ she says, but just as you think you got away with ending the interaction, her eyes narrow at you.

‘wait a minute…’ she looks you up and down. ‘you’re that transfer.. the one who’s always by herself.. yn ln, right?’ she giggles.

‘um yes.’

‘awww, it’s a shame your bestie left you, you must have done something horrible.’ she mocks, laughing in your face.

‘i didn’t actu-‘

‘oh, who cares.’ she suddenly says, before rolling her eyes and walking past you, bashing her shoulder against yours in the process and knocking you to the floor.

you fall onto the carpet, and as you try to get up, you hear the thud of her book as she throws it down at you. 

‘not nice to be barged into, is it?’ she grimaces, ‘put this back.’ her foot slides the book across to you as she leaves.

you feel like you're about to be sick, surrounded by the urge to cry and never stop. 

this is what you escaped from, this is what you ran from.

and it’s all come chasing you back.

you haven’t stopped crying. not when you got yourself up from the floor, not when you walked through the library and not even when you made it to your dorm. but you don’t want to be there, the lingering reminder of karina’s absence pressuring you into remembering just how alone you are. you wish you had other friends, wish you knew of some other place to go, but you don’t. 

your mind tracks through all the interactions you’ve had over the past week, most of them being passive aggressive remarks or curious questions about what happened to karina. but there’s one interaction that sticks out to you, the only nice interaction you’ve had without karina by your side.

lee jeno.

even though you were displaying your very obvious anger towards him at the time, he was nice to you - if ‘nice’ even counts for what he had said - but in terms of the lack of mean words, it was a lot nicer than any others.

that’s when you remember the beginning of your conversation with him, or more importantly, his conversation with haechan.

he had told him which dorm to go to, handing him over the keys. dorm 120.

you know it’s stupid, you know it’s completely and utterly ridiculous, but you can’t stand a moment longer in this dorm without knowing why karina left. not after what happened today, not after what’s been happening all week.

so here you stand, paying no mind to your tear stained cheeks as you knock on the door to dorm 120. 

your stomach is turning, reminding you of just how stupid this is, of why the college’s most popular guy would ever want to help you. 

when the door opens, it’s not jeno who stands there. instead it’s his roommate, red hair half in braids and makeup staining his eyes. 

he takes one look at you before calling out over his shoulder. ‘hey jeno, i think this one’s for you.’ 

as jeno’s roommate, yuta, steps away from the door, jeno emerges from around the corner. his eyes find yours in surprise, studying the red of your cheeks and the way you stand awkwardly at the door. 

‘yn? what’s wrong?’ he says, brows furrowing.

you don’t know why he cares, why he’s asking. he doesn’t know you. 

‘i, um, need a favor.’ you say quietly. 

he nods before stepping forward, closing the door behind him as he talks to you in the hallway. 

‘okay.’ he says, urging you to go on. 

‘everyone’s blaming me for her leaving, but i’m not the reason… i’m sure of it.’ you say, looking up at him. his face is stern, confused. ‘and i know she wouldn’t just up and leave like that, she was loving it here. there must be another reason. whoever was at our dorm that night, they made her want to go home.’

he nods the whole time you’re speaking, but your unsure if he’s even taking you seriously. he shouldn’t, he doesn’t know you, you’re just some girl who happens to know where his dorm is. 

you continue, ‘i’m tired of being treated this way. i want to find them and ask them why they did it.’ you look down at the floor, ‘but i don’t know how to find them… and i was hoping since you’re, you know, popular, you’d know enough people to help.’

he takes in every word you say, eyes giving off an emotion you just can’t decipher. 

there’s a second of silence before he responds. 

‘alright.’ he says, ‘i’ll help you.’

your eyes look up from the floor to catch his, a smile of hope forming on your lips and you swear you catch him gasp at your excitement, only to watch your expression fall moments later. 

‘but..’ he starts, ‘on one condition.’

you nod, willing to do anything so long as it means you won’t be lonely anymore.

he grins as he looks at you. 

‘if you sing for our band.’

it takes you a while to respond, completely baffled at how he had any idea you could sing. you stand there, thoughts swirling in your head. the confusion must have been evident on your face because jeno lets out a laugh.

‘don’t worry.’ he says, still trying to hold back his laughter. ‘i saw you at a karaoke bar a few weeks ago ordering drinks. i heard you singing to yourself when you walked up to the desk.’

so that was him? 

‘but.. i don’t sing.’ you say, shaking your head. 

he raises his eyebrows. ‘with a voice like that?’

you swear your heart nearly fails, unsure why.

‘you want me to help you?’ he says.

you think for a moment, weighing your options. you’re already gaining too much attention for you to handle, why not take on some more of it means you don’t have to bear it alone?

‘fine.’ you say, ‘i’ll sing for your band.’

he smiles, holding out his hand for you to shake and you get reminded of the day you met karina, shaking her hand as you first stepped into the dorm, not knowing where that friendship would bring you. 

but as you take jeno’s, there’s something different, something indescribable, as if you’re suddenly aware of what’s around you. 

and for once in your life, you don’t hate it.

your first practice with the rest of the band made you feel sick. when you sang infront of karina, you felt safe. nervous? yes, but safe. now, trailing behind jeno as you walk into the practice room, you feel yourself begin to grow terrified. 

‘everyone, this is yn, our new singer.’ jeno says.

you look around at their faces, recognising yuta and haechan as they throw you small smiles of recognition. the one you don’t recognise is introduced to you as yangyang. they all seem relatively nice, not telling you mean comments or giving you looks. they explain to you that their previous singer, ten, got ill a few days ago, and that they’ve been looking for someone to stand in for him in their gig next week. you clench your fists at the mention of having to sing infront of a crowd, and jeno notices your nerves, gently brushing the side of his finger along your forearm in comfort as he stands beside you. its a small gesture, but it means alot. 

you really don’t understand why he’s being so nice to you, helping you find out who sent away karina, but you taught yourself recently to not take kindness for granted. 

because it doesn’t stick around for long.

the rest of the band go to their instruments, warming up their sounds and jamming a melodic tune in sync with each other. you walk over to the mic, picking up the lyric sheet and studying the lyrics to ‘butterfly’. 

after yangyangs cue, the boys start playing their instruments to the song and immediately, you feel more at peace. it's as if the music swarms you, inviting you into an embrace as you begin to sing the lyrics. you drown out any fear, any temptation to want the floor to swallow you up and you just sing, note after note carving the melody. 

when the song ends, the room grows silent. 

‘fucking hell.’ yangyang curses, ‘we should have hired you the second you walked onto campus.’ he says. 

you turn to face them, and you giggle at the sight of them all portraying faces of shock. 

all of them except jeno.

his expression is calm, only a slight smile reaching his eyes as he looks at you. 

you notice haechan, his gaze fixated on jeno as he whispers something to yuta. 

for a moment, a completely impossible idea floods your mind. 

what if the poster was about you?

but when you think about it, truly think about it, you can’t believe you’d be so naive.

jeno was way too far out of the league of people that would be interested in you. crowds of people flock after him daily, he’s the most loved guy on campus. 

that poster was a result of a ridiculous rumour. besides, if it was anyone, it would be that other transfer karina had met: sakura. in your time knowing jeno, you’ve learnt that he admires sweetness, and from what karina had told you, that’s all sakura is. you had gotten falsely angry at him before he had even met you, you’re anything but sweet. 

when practice was over, yuta and jeno say their goodbye’s swiftly, saying something about a gathering as jeno quickly tells haechan something before he leaves. after yangyang goes home, that leaves only you and haechan to grab your things. 

‘you know, you shouldn’t be so nervous about your voice.’ haechan says, slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

‘thank you.’ you reply, smiling before walking to head out of the door. 

haechan runs after you, ‘woah woah woah, where do you think you’re going?’ 

you look at him in confusion. ‘um… back to my dorm..?’

‘nuh uh,’ haechan chimes, ‘not by yourself. sorry, captain's orders.’

it takes you a moment to realise that he’s talking about jeno.

‘jeno asked you to walk me home?’ you ask and he nods. ‘oh.. that’s okay you really dont have to, i’ll be fine..’

‘nope.’ he says, ‘follow me.’ 

you watch as he begins to walk in the complete wrong direction. 

‘you don’t know where my dorm building is, do you?’ you laugh.

‘nope. follow you.’ he says, turning around in the other direction, making you laugh. 

eventually making it to your dorm, he drops you off. 

‘thank you.’ you tell him.

‘no problem, yn.’ he replies. ‘oh and by the way,’ 

your eyebrow raises, waiting for him to continue. 

‘that rumour about jeno is true.’

you’re certain it's sakura. everytime you see her around campus, jeno and his bandmates always turn up. it’s as if every word of the poster is true, he really does have an eye on her. 

it’s the evening and you're bored in your dorm, eyes lingering on the empty space around you when you decide that you need to finally start your investigation with jeno. you’ve been putting it off, struggling to face the reality that someone had tried to do this to karina, to get her to leave. 

knowing you now have jeno’s number in your phone, you call him to meet you at the night cafe a few minutes away from the dorms. 

when you get there, jeno’s already at a table, a drink for either of you infront of him. 

‘hi.’ you say, and he smiles back at you. ‘so um.. where to start..’

jeno laughs at your awkwardness. ‘i have a question.’ he says, and you nod for him to proceed. ‘did karina make any, uh, enemies whilst she was here?’

you rack your brain, scanning through the conversations you and her would have after your lectures, but nothing jumps out at you. karina was always so nice, so bubbly to everyone around her. 

‘no.. i don’t think so.’

he nods, taking a sip of his drink as he thinks his next words carefully. 

‘did you?’

you freeze at his question and he notices. you so desperately want to tell him about the girl from the library, but something in you stops yourself. 

and you’re glad you did, because moments later, you notice the familiar ponytail peek out from the table behind jeno.

there she is, the girl from the library, sat with two other girls. you feel their eyes on you, notice their whispers and laughs as they look at you both, and that's when you realise how bad this looks, the situation your in. 

but when jeno slightly leans to the side to pick up his drink again, you notice the faces of the girls she’s with. 

and you recognise them. 

sitting at a table with the girl from the library, are two girls from your old college.

the girls that spread the video of you falling. 

when they see you notice them, their faces brighten, waving to you as they giggle.

jeno notices your distraction. 

‘hey, yn, you okay?’

you snap back to your conversation with jeno, ‘oh.. yes, sorry.’

‘thats okay, so like i was saying..’

jeno continues on but you can’t help but lose focus, instead watching as the girls get up from their table and head straight toward you and jeno.

‘shit.’ you murmur under your breath.

‘yn?’ jeno asks, concern lining his features.

‘hey yn.’ a separate voice speaks from beside you two. 

the girl from the library looks directly at him. ‘hey jeno.’

jeno looks at you, jaw clenching. 

‘what do you want, haewon?’ he asks, anger undoubtedly coursing through him, and you wish to uncover why. 

haewon giggles, laughing with the two girls from your old college. you try your best to ignore them, looking down at your drink as you pretend to stir it. 

haewon speaks up. ‘i want to know why you're here with this.’ she says, blatantly referring to you. 

jeno doesn’t speak, but you see his fists clench. 

one of the other girls speak up. ‘maybe he wouldn't be if he saw a little video i’ve got.’ she says. she presses play on the video, throwing the phone down on the table for everyone to see. 

but jeno’s eyes aren’t on the phone; they’re on you. 

and they’re livid. 

you’re still looking down, attempting to ignore them. 

haewon continues, ‘you know, jeno, if you were going to stoop this low after our breakup, i would have stayed with you to save you from the embarrassment of being seen with her.’

your head snaps up. 

our breakup? haewon is jeno’s ex?

noticing your attention, haewon taunts you. ‘thats right, yn, i bet you weren’t expecting that were y-’

‘leave her alone.’ jeno’s voice is harsh, stern. 

haewon looks taken aback. ‘she didn’t tell you, did she?’ she says to jeno. ‘about our little incident in the library when she pushed me.’

jeno’s eyes snap to yours and he can tell you want to leave, want to get out of here and never look back. 

but he’s curious, so he doesn’t interrupt haewon, not yet.

she continues, ‘of course, i didn’t let her get away with it though. left her crying on the floor where she belongs.’ she laughs, the two others laughing with her. 

but jeno is anything but amused. 

you’ve never seen him so angry, full of so much emotion as he stands, kicking his chair behind him and walking around the table to grab your wrist, pulling you out the cafe entrance and back onto the street. haewons laughter fades into the distance. 

you think he’s going to yell at you, be angry at you for pushing his ex. 

but just when you think he’s going to yell at you, he does quite the contrary. 

at first, the warmth of his arms around you causes you to still. but when you hear him murmur apologetically, you melt into his arms. 

weirdly, you feel safe, as if his arms can protect you against everything in the world, your fears, your hatred, your loneliness.

and its then that you realise that ever since you turned up outside his dorm that night, you haven’t felt loneliness once, as if, unknowingly, he had healed you of it all simply with his presence. 

after a moment, you pull away from the hug. 

‘why didn’t you tell me?’ he asks, searching your eyes.

‘because i didn’t think i could.’

the following week, you focus mainly on your assignments, as well as attending practice with the band when you could. you were beginning to gain confidence, with the gig in a few days and haechan giving you tips on performing, you were well on your way to feeling relatively okay about it all. you and jeno meet occasionally to try to decipher who had got karina to leave, but you keep getting hit with dead ends. it doesn’t help that karina’s the kindest person you’ve ever met; it’s impossible to find a single soul that could possibly hate her. 

you’re chilling in your dorm with a blanket and on your fourth rerun of pitch perfect when you receive a text from haechan. 

[18:22] haechan: yo

you open your phone, replying back to him with a single question mark. 

[18:22] haechan: me and the rest of the band have a party tonight if you'd like to come?

[18:23] haechan: no pressure tho ofc

[18:23] haechan: well maybe a little bit

your stomach churning at the thought of a party, you reply after little to no thought at all. 

[18:24] me: no sorry

[18:24] haechan: pleaseeeeee

[18:24] haechan: you can go if you feel uncomfortable i promise

[18:25] haechan: plus jeno wants you to come

really?

[18:25] me: okay

so it’s settled, your first college party. you’re literally about to kill haechan for convincing you to do this. 

dressing yourself in the only nice outfit you own, you answer your door as haechan, jeno and yuta arrive. after being informed that yangyang decided to stay back at his and tens dorm to not make ten feel left out, you all walk over to the house where the party’s being held.

you’ve never been to a college party before, only heard about them from friends and their experiences. 

as you walk into the house, you’re immediately overwhelmed. loud music and darkness fill the air and the entire place reeks of alcohol. noticing your nerves, jeno leans down to talk to you. 

‘i won’t leave you, okay? stay by my side.’

you nod, following him as the others split off. 

he offers you a drink and you gladly decline. he doesn’t make a fuss about it, just simply lets you enjoy yourself how you want. 

however, after a while, people's eyes begin to become evident to you, watching as people whisper and point to you and jeno. you hate it, you hate the way they’re looking at you like you’ve done something wrong. 

‘jeno?’ you say to him, but he already knows whats wrong before you even say it, grabbing your hand and pulling you along the party and towards the front door. 

but something, no, somebody stops you. 

haewon. 

she stand’s there, arms folded as she blocks the door from the kitchen into the hallway.

‘get out the way, haewon.’ jeno says, a warning lining the tone in his voice. 

‘so what if i don’t.’ she snaps back. ‘i have a little secret to tell yn over here.’

her eyes travel to you and you almost flinch when she smiles in your direction. 

but you won’t let her taunt you, not like this, not anymore. 

‘don’t talk to me.’ you say, and jeno’s brows lift in surprise at your remark. he smirks at your confidence. 

‘what was that?’ haewon scoffs. 

‘i said, don’t talk to me.’

she rolls her eyes, ‘pfft, you wouldn’t be so confident if you knew who jeno really had his eyes on.’

you sigh, ‘i already do.’

at that, jenos hand tightens around yours, urging you to look at him.

‘what?’ he mouths to you, but you don’t respond, facing back to haewon. 

‘it’s sakura.’ you say. 

with that, haewon lets out a laugh. not a cute laugh, or a kind one, but one laced with nothing but humiliation. 

‘sakura?’ she continues laughing, ‘you really think it’s her?’

you nod, and you feel jeno shift beside you. 

‘oh honey,’ she continues, ‘you couldn’t be more wrong. you should have seen the way he looked at karina. why else do you think she left you.’

her word’s stab you in the chest. not because of her laughter, not because of her humiliation and not even because of her words about karina. no, you know from jeno himself that it isn’t her.

but because, if jeno didn’t like karina, and if he didn’t like sakura. 

then that left just one person. 

you. 

you detach your hand from jeno’s hold, heading straight for the door, pushing past haewon with force. you don’t care what she thinks, you don’t care what it looks like, you need to get out of this party. 

this whole time, you’ve convinced yourself that you’re lonely, deprived from any kind of social connection, removed from any sort of status. but this whole time, he has been looking at you. 

your first lecture when you felt like someone was looking at you, your time at the karaoke bar, this whole time, it had been him. not the eyes of those judging you, not the eyes of people who hate you, but him.

you make it out to the front of the house, sitting on the curb by the road to collect your thoughts. the poster, karina leaving, none of it makes sense.

suddenly, you feel a presence beside you. turning your head to look at haechan as he sits down, you realise your vision is foggy, tears lining your lash line and threatening to drop.

‘i should have never done it.’ he says, looking at the ground. 

you look at him in question and he continues. 

‘i saw the way he used to look at you on campus, i knew he was obsessed with your voice after hearing you at the karaoke bar. i was just playing around, just teasing him for his hallway crush.’

you’re confused. ‘what are you talking about?’

‘i should have never made that poster. if i knew how much trouble it would have caused, i never would have done it. i'm so sorry, yn.’

you sit still, in awe at the confession of the man beside you. he had only intended to pull a prank on his best friend, but it had backfired.

you laugh and he looks at you, ‘its okay, haechan. you don’t need to apologise.’

‘i do.’ he smiles, ‘and im glad i have.’

you sit there for a moment, silence overwhelming you as you think over haechans words. 

‘i saw the way he looked at you on campus.’

the words are familiar, like an unfinished rhyme, beckoning to be completed. but as you sit in quiet, you suddenly remember something haewon had said moments ago. 

‘you should have seen the way he looked at karina.’

it all snaps together, like a magnet that never should have been split apart. 

haewon thought it was karina that her ex was crushing on. she was jealous, enraged. blinded by the fact that you and karina were inseparable, always side by side. it was an easy mistake, one that she must have overlooked when she had knocked on your dorm that night, using whatever manipulative skills she had to get karina to go home, to get her as far away from her precious ex as possible. 

you can’t believe it, how you didn’t figure this out sooner.

it was haewon this whole time.

you stand up, startling haechan, before running back into the party. you spot jeno, slumped against the kitchen counter, beer in hand. you can’t look at him, can’t process the fact that he might possibly have his eyes on you. 

instead, you look for haewon, heading straight in her direction the moment you see her. 

you don’t realise but haechan had clocked on, running over to jeno and explaining everything in as much detail as he could. 

you stand ahead of haewon, heart in your throat. 

‘it’s not karina.’ you say.

‘what?’ shes angry, annoyed that you’re even speaking to her. 

‘i know what you did, haewon. i know that you got rid of her.’

haewon smiles, and you want to wipe the smug grin off her face. 

so you do. 

‘but you got the wrong girl.’

as expected, haewons smile drops. 

‘what are you talking about?’ she says.

but it’s not you that answers. 

his voice is calm, collected. 

‘it was her i was looking at.’ he says, eyes drifting to yours. 

haewon stutters, angrily waving her arms around. 

‘you’re lying!’ she cries, ‘it’s me you should be looking at.’

but he doesn’t, not once, eyes never leaving yours. 

you smile silently, words not daring to leave your mouth in fear that they will choke you. 

haewon storms off, annoyed at the spectacle in front of her. 

jenos face is full of concern, a look of adoration covering his eyes that you’ve failed to recognise until now. 

‘so, you finally realised, huh?’ he says, brushing a strand of hair from your face. 

‘i thought it was sakura…’ you reply.

‘who?’ he laughs, and for once in your life, you laugh with him. 

the way he looks at you when you laugh is a face you want to remember forever.

‘oh and yn?’ he says, causing your eyebrows to raise in question. ‘i found out what college karina goes to from one of the guys over there. we can give them a call tomorrow and try to get her back if you’d like?’

your heart melts, sinking in your chest as your eyes began to gloss over. 

‘hey, what’s wrong?’ he questions, hand now moving to trace your cheek.

but you smile. 

‘thank you.’

and he smiles back. 

‘anything for you.’

3 days later.

‘yn? oh my god! wake up! i can’t believe you’d nap so late in the afternoon!’ 

you groan as you stir from, what was, a nice relaxing afternoon nap before you’re big gig. 

‘im being serious, yn! you have, like, twenty minutes.’ karina’s voice echoes in your brain and you shoot up, panic overflowing you. you check your phone, scrolling as hundreds of texts from each of the band’s members fly across your screen. 

‘shit.’ you curse, and karina laughs before helping you ready your things. trusting her to full capacity, you let her do your hair and makeup before pushing you out the door and running you over to jeno and yuta’s dorm. 

it was interesting introducing karina to the band when she came back, but you love the way they all get along, clicking with karina just as you did at the start of the semester. you told her about the whole situation with jeno, and despite learning the truth, you and him haven’t had the chance to talk about it yourselves.

once you and karina make it to the rest of the boys, you all head over to the venue. as you get closer and closer, your nerves heighten, heart pooling in your chest at the thought. 

the moment you’re backstage, you begin to panic, your chest tightening and restricting you from breathing. 

jeno’s beside you. he notices a shift in your demeanour, leaning down to look at your face in worry. 

‘yn?’ he whispers, ‘you okay?’

‘not really.’ you shake your head; you’re so incredibly nervous.

‘hey, look at me.’ he says, gently bringing his hand to your chin to tilt your head towards his.

the air around you both stills, the music quiets.

you look into his eyes and he looks into yours, as if you’re trying to find something in each other, something you can’t describe.

jeno begins to speak, hand lingering below your chin before moving to fix a few strands of your hair. ‘you know, the first time i heard you sing, that time at the karaoke bar, i was completely and utterly in love with you. you struck something within me, yn. it’s like i’ve been waiting around for you my whole life, like i’m a butterfly and you’re my wings.’ he smiles when he notices your breathing begin to slow, ‘you’re going to sound beautiful out there, just as much as you look it.’

you don’t know how to respond, how to meet his words with as much love as he gave you. so you do the only thing you know will show him just how much you mean it, just how much you’re thankful for him taking away your loneliness. 

you reach up, pressing your lips to his. 

he’s a little surprised at first, but after less than a second, his hands are around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. 

it’s beautiful: the art of not being alone, sharing a love with someone else as if they’re an extension of you. that’s how you feel in this moment, and that’s how you’ll feel forever. 

so as you step out onto that stage, jeno’s warmth still lingering on your skin, you know you're not alone, and you know you never will be.

not when he’s beside you.

[kimmie2me]

Dynamite and His Player 2

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Twitch Gamer!Bakugou x AFAB!Reader

.....

Bakugou glances over at the camera, brows furrowed as he adjusts his headset. "Alright, you extras, get ready to shut the hell up," he growls, his voice laced with annoyance. "She’s real. I’ve got her right here, and she’s playing with me tonight."

You laugh off-screen, causing his chat to explode with reactions. Up until now, they didn't believe a word Bakugou said when he claimed he had a girlfriend. After all, this is the guy known for his explosive reactions when things go slightly wrong. He grumbles, trying to keep his cool, but the slight blush on his cheeks gives him away.

The game loads up, some horror-puzzle co-op that requires a ton of coordination. But while Bakugou’s all business—focused on solving puzzles and surviving—you have other ideas. You’re busy teasing him, wandering off to explore the map, or purposely messing up just to get a rise out of him.

"Can you just—dammit! Will you STOP wandering off?" Bakugou snaps as he watches your character take another detour. "We’re supposed to be working together!"

You grin at the screen, purposely moving your character in circles. "Aw, come on, Suki~ We’re just having fun, right?"

His jaw clenches, and he mutters something under his breath about "not having fun if you keep screwing around." But his viewers are eating it up, laughing at his frustration and flooding the chat with comments like "She's brave for messing with him, LMAO😭😭" and "Bros .4 seconds away from exploding his monitor for the 10 millionth time🪦"

Eventually, he just huffs, slouching in his chair and mumbling, "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. I’ll just wait here." His expression says he's beyond annoyed, but the hint of a smile peeking through his scowl gives away that maybe, just maybe, he's actually having a little fun too.

Grumpy Twitch Gamer Bakugou Headcanons

...

— Every time he messes up, he narrows his eyes at the camera with that “are you stupid?” glare. Chat spams "IT’S NOT OUR FAULT!” and "WHY R U LOOKING AT US LIKE WE DID THAT??" but he just huffs, “If you idiots weren’t DISTRACTING me…”

— Bakugou’s streaming style is brutally honest—constantly throwing out curses like it’s second nature. If he dies in-game, his go-to is, “How the hell am I supposed to win with this garbage game?!” and he never blames himself, ever.

— He has zero chill. Every so often, he’ll pound the desk so hard that the camera shakes, and one time he punched his mic so fiercely that it cut out, leaving chat in hysterics as he tries to fix it, muttering about “this piece of crap gear.”

— After every gaming session, he gives a review of the game he’s playing—most of which devolve into full-on rants about terrible controls, stupid enemies, and “whoever the hell designed these levels.” At this point, it's an entire essay by the time he's done.

— There are moments when he hits the mute button just to scream or cuss off-mic. Chat sees him red-faced and mouthing words, knowing he’s losing it, which makes them spam laugh emotes to annoy him further.

— Sometimes, when things get really bad, he just simply says "Okay." and goes quiet, leaning in close to the screen with this intense focus. Chat knows that if he’s silent, it’s only because he’s plotting to obliterate whatever got him killed.

— It’s become a running joke with his followers—every time he streams, they place bets on which piece of his equipment he’ll break. He’s replaced his keyboard three times already and had to upgrade his camera stand because he broke the last one during a particularly heated rage quit.

— When he finally beats a level, he acts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “See? Wasn’t even hard, you just have to not be a dumbass.” Cue the smug smirk.

— Occasionally, in his absolute rage, he’ll end the stream immediately after a loss. One second he’s there, screaming at the game, and then—stream offline.

— Despite all the rage, he’s actually insanely good at gaming. When he goes on a winning streak, chat blows up with admiration, but he barely acknowledges it. “’Course I won—who the hell do you think I am?”

— He has zero patience for backseat gamers. “Oh, you think you could do better? Why don’t you go start your own damn channel, then!” The mods know by now to instantly time out anyone who even hints at suggesting how he should play, and the ban count is astronomical by the end of each stream.

— Occasionally, Bakugou gets so into the game that he goes almost silent, and chat jokes it’s an ASMR session because all they can hear is his intense breathing and muttered curses. “Oi, STOP saying it’s ASMR, it’s not ASMR, you freaks!”

— Loading screens are his worst enemy. Every single time, he glares directly into the camera, arms crossed and seething, ranting about the “stupid long loading times” and how he could’ve “beat the damn game twice by now.” and how "a whole child could've been born by now." Chat watches in suspense because they know the rage is simmering, just waiting to explode.

— If he’s playing a console game, the controller does not have a safe future. He’s thrown it across the room, slammed it on his knee or desk, and even threatened it like, “You’re next, you little piece of shit, keep messing up on me.” He’s gone through so many controllers that his sponsor had to send him extras.

— When he loses in a PvP game, he has 1,001 excuses. “Lag. Dumb luck. Exploiter. The devs nerfed my character, obviously.” If chat calls him out, he just scoffs, “You think that was my fault? Keep dreaming.” And the mods instantly clear out any “L” spam from chat because he’s already dangerously close to slamming his keyboard.

— His channel has special emotes for when he loses his temper—explosion icons, angry Bakugou faces, and even one of his own “ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDING ME?!” face. Chat spams these whenever he starts heating up, which only fuels his fire.

— His viewers love to try and provoke him. Someone will innocently say, “Hey Dynamight, I think you missed something back there,” and he’ll instantly pause, glare at the screen, and say, “I DIDN’T MISS ANYTHING, DUMBASS, WE'RE MOVING ON.” It’s like a game within the game for his followers. (He goes back to check right after.)

— “Easy mode?” he scoffs at the suggestion. “I’d rather throw myself into a fire than play on easy mode.” Even if he’s dying over and over, he’ll never, ever change the difficulty. Chat has tried for months to get him to switch, but he’s stubbornly loyal to “the only real mode” (aka Hard Mode, Nightmare mode or above).

— If he actually wins a match, he’s unbearable. He’ll sit there, grinning and basking in his victory, smirking at the camera with a smug, “And that, extras, is why I’m better than every single one of you.” Cue chat sarcastically clapping.

— He once had a bet with his mods that he’d try to do a stream without cursing or raging. He lasted five minutes before he exploded, screaming, “THIS GAME IS FUCKING RIGGED!” after an unexpected jump-scare. The mods were dying, and he banned half of them out of spite (they were unbanned five minutes later, but still).

— Every time he’s about to start a new game, he’s got this exaggerated, dramatic intro: “ALRIGHT, EXTRAS, prepare yourselves ‘cause we’re about to dominate the shit outta this game. And if I see anyone backseat gaming, you’re banned. Don’t even THINK about telling me what to do.”

— Every now and then, when he dies for the tenth time in a row, he just deadpans to the camera, “I swear to God, I’m deleting my channel after this.” Chat knows he’s bluffing, but they still spam crying emojis like “NOOO PLEASE DON’T” just to mess with him.

— Every so often, when he’s focused on a tough level, he’ll mutter something like, “Okay, maybe you’re not so bad, chat. Don’t tell anyone I said that,” and the comments absolutely blow up with hearts and “WE LOVE YOU, DYNAMIGHT.” He immediately goes red and yells, “Didn’t mean it, idiots!” but it’s too late.

— Once, he rage-quit a game so hard that his entire setup fell silent. He’d punched the desk, and the screen went black. Chat watched in shock as the stream just… cut off. The clip went viral, with an entire 30-minute compilation titled “Every time Dynamight destroyed his setup” He came back the next day, reacted to it, and you already know he gave the video a thumbs down and left a long hate comment.

— His mods convinced him to play a “relaxing, casual game” that was secretly full of jump scares. The first time it happened, he almost flipped his entire desk. He immediately banned half of his mods and told the rest they were “on thin ice.” Chat still laughs about it every time he plays a “cute” game.

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ like you hate me ] e. edwards

day 7 of kinktober (hate sex w/ ethan edwards)

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : she can’t stand ethan, but she knows there is tension between them that she can’t ignore anymore when they collide at a party

warning(s) : smut ! rough / hate sex, p in v, protected sex, nicknames during sex, begging, mentions of alcohol, light alcohol consumption

author’s note : i couldn’t wait to get to this one bc i had so many ideas hehe

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

She shouldn't be here, but she let her friends talk her into coming to the party. Hockey parties don't usually end well for her whenever she does decide to attend them.

Especially if she runs into him.

Ethan Edwards is the bane of her existence and the biggest pain in her ass. He has the biggest ego she's ever seen on a hockey player, and he's had it for all four years that she's known him. He likes to mess with her during classes they have together and distract her from keeping her solid 3.8 GPA. He likes to mess with her in passing and make jokes every time he sees her. He even makes her job as the hockey team’s social media admin very difficult and she’s growing tired of it.

Maybe she won’t even run into him. She can avoid him in his own house. It won’t be that hard with every girl throwing herself at him and distracting him from the fact that she’s there.

The hockey house is off campus in a suburban area of Ann Arbor about 15 minutes away from main campus. It’s already crawling with partygoers when she pulls up in an Uber about an hour after the party was scheduled to start. Music blasts from every open door and window and she questions how they haven’t gotten cited yet for loud noise.

Inside is so crowded she can barely walk. She squeezes past multiple athletes from different sports in the foyer as she makes her way to the kitchen to get something to drink. If she’s going to be in the same building as Ethan then she needs to have a little alcohol in her system. God knows what’s going to happen and what words are going to be exchanged if their paths cross.

In the kitchen stands three of Ethan’s closest friends. All with an arm around some girl. Luca is the first to notice her walk into the room. He immediately smiles at the sight.

"Holy shit," he laughs. "She makes an appearance. I can't believe it. I thought you would never show your face at a hockey house party."

She shrugs while she makes herself a drink with cheap vodka and a mixer. "I was coerced into coming," she tells him. She looks up at Luca, Mark, and TJ. She sips her drink. "Where's your friend? Hiding upstairs in his room hopefully?"

Mark laughs and shakes his head. "He's around," he replies. "Last I saw him, he was out back playing cup pong with Duker, Moldy and Schiffer."

"Now I can avoid the back," she says with a smile. "Thanks."

All three of them laugh as she turns and leaves the room. She makes her way into the living room. Her friends sit on the couch so she sits on the arm of the chair next to the person she'd consider her best friend. She leans back and sips from her cup.

People come in and out of the room constantly, but she loves being able to see everyone and socialize with whoever does come into the room. She talks to people she hasn't seen or spoken to in a little bit.

She's laughing at something her friend said when she watches the one person she didn't want to see walk into the room with Luca and Mark. They better not have snitched on her to him or she will make sure they hate the Monday Question next week.

Ethan's eyes land on her and she quickly averts her eyes. She looks at her friend and pretends to be invested in the conversation so maybe Ethan won't walk over and bother her.

Except, that plan fails. Before she knows it, Ethan is standing in front of her. He has the smuggest of smirks on his face when he approaches her.

“A little birdie told me that you were trying to avoid me, princess” he tells her. “Is that true?”

She could kill Luca, Mark, and TJ for snitching on her.

“So what if I was?” she questions as she crosses her arms over her chest. “And I’ve told you to stop calling me princess.”

“You’re in my house, princess,” Ethan retorts with a grin on his face and emphasizing the word ‘princess’ just to annoy her even more. “You don’t get to ignore me in my house, and I can do whatever I want because it is my house.”

“Says who?” she asks. “I can ignore whoever I want, their house or not. You're annoying and I like your roommates better anyway."

Ethan quiets down but he doesn't take his eyes off of her. She doesn't back down either. She holds her ground because she doesn't want him to think he's won. That's the last thing that she wants so she holds eye contact with him until he speaks again. Her heart pounds in her chest as she stands her ground.

A smile breaks out on his lips and she falters for a very quick second. "I knew you had a crush on one of my roommates," Ethan says. "Which one? Luca? Mark? I hate to break it to you, but Mark has a girlfriend. So does Hughesy. Oh my God. Do you have a thing for a guy who has a girlfriend? That's a little pathetic if you ask me."

She rolls her eyes, her blood beginning to boil after his comment. "You're such an asshole, Ethan," she tells him.

She then gets up out of her seat and walks upstairs to hide in one of the bathrooms for a few minutes while she cools down.

If someone were to ask her why she was so upset, she would say that she honestly has no idea. Something about Ethan Edwards just heats her blood. He riles her up, and it could be the smallest thing that does it too.

All he did was mess with her, and she's ready to punch him in the face. She's always ready to punch him in the face though, but it's often not because she's angry at him. Sometimes it's because he's genuinely one of the most attractive people she's ever seen. Just his face alone is enough to send her into a bad mood.

If Ethan wasn’t a massive pain in her ass, she probably would’ve hooked up with him by now. Maybe it’s what she’s wanted all along and the reason why she hates him so much. He’s infuriating, but he’s hot. It’s a dangerous combination, especially for her.

She splashes water on her face to cool down and does her best to fix up the makeup that came off with the water. It’s not a lot thanks to the inventor of waterproof makeup but it still runs just a little bit.

A knock rings through the bathroom and she calls, “One second!” There’s a second knock and she groans. “Do you not know what one second mea-” She freezes when she sees Ethan on the other side of the door as soon as she swings it open. “Oh, great. Just the person I want to see. Go away, Ethan.”

“I may have crossed a line,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck.

“You just keep adding on to the list of what you think I am, don’t you?” she retorts. “Annoying, nerdy, clingy, and now I’m pathetic despite not having a thing for a single one of your roommates, especially not the ones who are in relationships. Making that comment in front of everyone was embarrassing. Even for you.”

Ethan just nods and looks at her. “I know that,” he tells her. “It wasn’t until you walked away and Luca told me that what I said was wrong that I realized that I crossed the line.”

She runs her fingers through her wavy locks and lets out a soft sigh. “This wouldn’t be an issue if I just-” She cuts herself off from what she was about to say.

There’s tension. There’s been tension. She ignores it like it’s going to go away on it’s own but the innuendos and jokes have made it thicker than it’s ever been. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore it. Maybe if she just-

“Just what?” Ethan questions. She meets his eyes and finds confusion in them.

Do it. Get it over with.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she cups his jaw and pulls him down into a bruising kiss. Ethan has to take a little step toward her due to how hard she pulls him down to her.

He immediate pulls away in surprise. She stares up at him, but she doesn’t move her hands. Her eyes flicker between his like she’s searching for rejection, but that’s the one thing she doesn’t find. She finds deliberation and confusion.

Just in case he needs a little shove, she says, “We have been doing this whole back and forth thing for nearly four years, Ethan. You have to be as tired of it as I am. I feel the tension that’s grown so I’m sure you can to. This is the one and only time I’m offering this to you so we can just fuck it out and maybe end whatever feud thing that we’ve had going on. Worst comes to worst then we have a nice hookup and we can move on with our lives. Best case scenario, we get it out of our systems and we can actually be friends because-”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up, princess?” Ethan asks to cut her off.

She isn’t able to make a comeback because Ethan’s lips are back on hers before she can respond. He’s kissing her with the same intensity that she originally kissed him with.

His hands fall to her waist and he pulls her body flush against his chest. She feels every muscle flex underneath his thin shirt as he makes little movements to adjust to her height. She’s half a head shorter than he is so he has to make some adjustments to kiss her without breaking his neck. Eventually, he gives up and leans down to lift her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and slides her fingers into his hair.

Ethan turns and walks out of the bathroom. Luckily the hallway is dark so if anyone were to see them, they would think it’s just two people making out at a party. The door is kicked shut and her back is pinned to it. A soft thud is heard when her back makes contact with the wood. She hums when her skin hits the cool surface.

She kicks off her heels and they land on the carpeted floor with soft thuds. Ethan stands holding her back against the door for a second before he turns and walks toward his bed.

In the handful of times she’s had to come into this room, it’s been organized and in order. She gets a glance when the kiss breaks after he drops her on the mattress and finds it’s still very organized and in order. She would’ve never guessed that Ethan is one to keep things clean in his room.

Ethan kicks off his shoes before he climbs over her and hovers above her body. She immediately pulls him back into a hot kiss. He hums and a hand lands on her thigh. The already short black dress rides up her thigh until it rests right under her ass. His fingers follow the fabric up her leg. He grips her thigh and she gasps.

Her fingers slide down his back until they reach the hem of his Michigan hockey t-shirt. She tugs at it to hint that she wants him to take it off. Ethan listens to her signal and sits back on his knees, breaking the kiss. She watches as he pulls the fabric over his head.

Now, she’s seen him shirtless on numerous occasions. There have been times where she’s seen him in nothing but his boxers, but she’s always looked away. Right now, she gets to look. She takes full advantage of the moment and studies every part of his torso and chest. Ethan’s never been the biggest guy in the room, but his body is so toned. She could combust just from the view she has right now.

She gets her hands on him as fast as she can. Her hands start on his torso, tracing his abs before they trail up and over his chest. Ethan’s hands rest on hers when they reach his shoulders. He pulls her up so she’s sitting up with him between her knees. Their chests are flush against each other and she’s looking up at him.

Ethan hooks his fingers under the thin straps of the little black dress. He tugs them off her shoulders and she pulls her arms out of the straps. She keeps her eyes on Ethan as he pulls the top of her dress over her boobs. He gnaws on his bottom lips when he sees her tits.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “You hid these from me this entire time?”

“You never asked to see them,” she tells him. Ethan moves his hands to cup her bare tits. “Probably would’ve showed you if you asked, E.”

He grins and pushes her until she’s lying on her back. He leans down and wraps his lips around one of her nipples. She hums at the feeling. Ethan’s other hand gropes her other boob. He bites down on her bottom lip. She runs her fingers through his hair.

After what feels like seconds later, Ethan begins to kiss down her chest and stomach. He pulls the dress down as he lowers himself down her body. She lifts her butt up so he can get the dress off. It hits the floor and she presses her lips into a line as Ethan drinks her in.

Her hands slide between them and she works on getting Ethan’s pants off. She pushes his pants off his body and he kicks them to the floor. She gets a hand on the bulge in his boxers, palming him over the thin fabric. He snakes a hand into her lace panties. She hums at the feeling of his fingers cupping her sex.

She grinds her core against his fingers trying to get some pressure. She presses her lips into a line as she pleasures herself on his hand. Ethan slips a finger into her and she gasps at the new feeling. "Oh my God," she breathes out. "Warn a girl next time."

Ethan smiles and attaches his lips to her jaw. "We'll see," he mumbles against her skin.

Slowly, he works her toward an orgasm. A knot forms in the pit of her stomach like it always does when she's close to an orgasm. Soft groans pass her lips when Ethan adds a second finger. "I- fuck," she pants. "Ethan, Eddy. Please."

"Please what, princess?" Ethan asks.

"Fuck me like you hate me," she tells him. "Please. Please fuck me, E."

He pulls back and looks at her. His fingers stop moving in and out of her. A grin forms on his swollen lips. "Are you begging me to fuck you?" he questions. "I never thought I'd see the day when you would beg me for something."

"Ethan Edwards, I'm about to get up and go get Luca-"

"Oh I don't think so," Ethan interrupts as he goes into his bedside table to get something. He pulls out a little foil package and comes back over to hover over her. "You're going to take off the rest of your clothes and I will give you the best dick you've ever had in that pretty little pussy."

His words go straight to her core and she listens to him almost as soon as he's done talking. She slides off her ruined panties and Ethan takes off his boxers to slide on the condom that he pulled out of the drawer.

She lies down on her back and lets Ethan settle above her. He lines up at her entrance and she stares up at him. Ethan meets her eyes before he pushes into her. She gasps from the stretch and grabs his triceps. It's painful at first but quickly turns into pleasure the longer he's inside her. He slowly pushes into her until he's completely buried inside her.

Once the pain completely fades, she nods at him. "Go," she tells him.

As soon as he has her permission, Ethan rolls his hips. Her jaw drops as he slowly picks up speed. The pleasure is so much that she nearly blacks out. Her nails dig into his triceps so hard that she's pretty sure he's going to end up with marks on his arms.

This is the last thing that she ever expected to happen. She never thought she would be underneath Ethan and getting fucked by him. She doesn't know if she'll ever tell him this because his ego will grow bigger than it already is, but it might be the best sex she's ever had. It's a quick hookup but it's already better than the rest of the hookups she's ever had, not that there are that many to compare it to.

She wouldn't be against it if this were to ever happen again.

Ethan continues to move deeply into her, but his movements pick up speed. The bed creaks and the room his filled with the soft moans that pass her lips. Ethan pants as he continues to move.

She starts to move her hips to match his pace. "Holy shit," she cries out when the tip of his dick hits her favorite spot. "Ethan."

"Like that, baby?" Ethan pants. "Like feeling my dick inside you? Making you feel good?"

He slams into her once and she arches her back off the bed. "Yes!" she gasps. "Yes, Ethan. God. Fuck."

With her response, Ethan slows down but hits her spot over and over again. Her legs begin to shake as she reaches the edge. The knot in her stomach threatens to come undone.

Ethan leans down and crashes their lips together in a bruising kiss. She groans as she feels her entire body clench. She squeezes around his dick as she comes and cries out against his lips. Her hands find his hair and she grasps, needing something to hold onto.

She feels like she's on cloud nine as Ethan fucks her through both of their orgasms. Her body goes limp under his when he pulls out to dispose of the used orgasm.

He cleans both of them up with his shirt before he collapses on the bed next to her. Her breathing is labored but is slowly returning to normal.

When she finds the strength to move, she turns her head to look at him. Ethan's already looking at her when she looks at him.

"I never hated you," Ethan admits to her. She raises her eyebrows at him. "I mean it. I never hated you. I thought it was cute how flustered you got every time I messed with you so I kept doing it not knowing that it meant that you didn't like me. That was me trying to express my feelings but it was definitely the wrong way to do that."

She blinks at him. "You've said some hurtful thing to me, Ethan," she tells him. "I'm going to need some time to get over that but ... I think I'd be okay if we tried to be friends. I wouldn't be opposed to this either."

"I knew you always wanted me," he teases.

"Shut up," she replies as she leans in to kiss him.

༺──────────────༻

MAIN HOCKEY

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[achilles-rage]

All Yours

summary: you go to a frat party with your longtime boyfriend buck, but when you see a girl flirting with him, you get jealous. you leave early, and buck begs to make it up to you.

word count: 3.4k

request: anon- down bad kinda sub(?) frat boy evan buckley. like, established relationship, they've been together since high school; but someone was flirting with buck and reader saw it so she takes him back to her apartment and he like gets down to his knees and like begs with his eyes to please her or whatever :) and feel free to take this in your own direction!! this is just an idea :)

a/n: dear god, whoever requested this i'm gonna kiss you on the lips. this has me FERAL and i love sub buck a little more than i thought i would. this reminds me so much of good luck charm and i had to go back and change all the evan's to buck's because i'm so used to using evan in good luck charm lmao (read good luck charm if you haven't pls i promise it's a good time). also, just a reminder than buck is the only man ever<33 enjoy<3

warnings: smut, barely edited (oops), college fratboy!buck, sub!buck, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

Your face scrunches up as you walk over the threshold of the frat house, the smell of beer and sweat filling your senses and making you feel dizzy.

It’s not your first party. Far from it. You’ve been in this house many times; during parties, and when it’s just the members. You can’t even count how many times you’ve woken up in one of the rooms, a strong arm wrapped around your thick middle as hot breath hits the back of your neck. 

You’ve been to many parties with him, too, not even just college parties. You’ve been dating Buck since high school, and with him being on the football team in high school too, parties were something he was always dragging you to. Not that you minded.

“Wanna show off my girl.” he’d tell you. And you couldn’t do anything else but agree; not when he’s looking at you with those big blue eyes, a small pout on his lips. 

Even with being so used to parties, and having Buck by your side the entire time, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the first few moments when you step into the party. It’s so loud, and the smell of beer almost burns your nostrils as you try to maneuver through a sea of drunk people, just waiting for someone to get too close and spill beer all over your shirt. You learned early that wearing black was always the best option when you’re here.

You make your way through the crowd with Buck, watching him greet his teammates and other friends and laughing as they call him whipped for walking to your house to pick you up. He brushes them off. Tells them that he has to. That it’s his girl that he’s got to keep safe.

All of his friends have seen how he is around you, and while he tried to hide it during the first few weeks of college, it’s your last year, and it’s very clear to everyone that you’re his world. And they’ve stopped teasing him about it. For the most part.

You finally find a group of his friends and their girlfriends standing around between the living room and the kitchen, and you stop there, beers in hand as you both fall into conversation with them. 

Buck talks to his teammates while you talk to a couple of their girlfriends that you’ve grown quite close to. Buck keeps an arm over your shoulders, keeping you close. He likes to have you near him all the time; he’s seen the way some guys here look at you, and while he knows you won’t do anything about it, as you’ve been together for over 5 years and have yet to have a problem, it’s the guys he doesn’t trust.

“We’re gonna go get more drinks. You want another beer?” you ask him over the noise around you, standing up on your toes and practically yelling into his ear.

He smiles, looking down at the sight of you on your toes as he licks his lips.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” he asks over the music. You feel your already hot cheeks heat up even more, and you laugh softly.

“Yeah, a couple times.” you tell him, rolling your eyes. More like 10, at least. “You want a refill?”

“Yeah, if you’re going. Thank you, baby.” You nod, then put two fingers on his cheek, making you face him again as he holds his mouth near your ear. You give him a quick peck, then lower back down and turn to walk towards the kitchen with the girls.

You whirl your head back around when you feel a hand smack your ass, a tight-lipped smile forcing its way onto your face as you pretend to be mad. Buck raises his hands up in surrender, shrugging as he looks at you with an innocent expression. You roll your eyes, blowing him a kiss over your shoulder, and you see him pretend to catch it just before you turn back to face the kitchen.

You stand with the girls in the kitchen, stopping to talk to some other people you know before you get your refills. One of your friends is ranting very loudly about her boyfriend, one of Buck’s best friends, and you’re all listening intently. Their relationship is very on-again, off-again, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at her words. You got so lucky with Buck, you think.

Your conversation is cut short when her eyes widen, and she ducks behind you. All you hear is something sounding like a mumbled “he’s right there!” before she speed walks out of the kitchen and into the living room. You laugh with the other girls, and then grab your refills before making your way back to your boyfriends.

You stop in your tracks, however, when you’re met with the sight of Buck standing very closely to a pretty brunette. She laughs loudly at something he says, and everything around you disappears as your focus remains solely on the sight unfolding in front of you.

You frown as you see him smiling down at her, his head leaned down just slightly in order to hear her.

Buck is just trying to be polite, of course. He knew exactly what was happening as soon as she made her way over, stumbling slightly and almost crashing into him when she was finally right in front of him. 

He talks with her, not wanting to seem rude, but his mind is completely focused on you. His eyes widen in surprise when she stands up on her toes and grabs the back of his neck, pulling his ear down to her mouth to speak to him over the loud music and chatter around them. 

You can’t see his face when she puts his hand to the back of his neck; her head completely blocking your sight of his very clearly uncomfortable expression. All you see is his hand going to her waist. Your jaw clenches, and it’s like a car crash; it makes you sick, but you can’t tear your eyes away.

In your jealous haze, you don’t process the fact that she’s clearly stumbling around, and Buck’s hand on her waist seems to be the only thing keeping her from falling over completely. 

His eyes scan the room for you as she keeps talking, barely listening as he looks out for you. He wants you back here right now; he wants to show this girl that he’s taken. By you.

He doesn’t see you though. And when he finally leans down and tells her that he’s happily taken, she pouts, mumbling a slurred “of course you are” before she walks away. He lets out a sigh of relief, and a minute later, he smiles widely when he sees you crossing the room back to him.

He grunts when you practically shove his beer at him, his smile disappearing. He’s quick to grab the cup, and his brows furrow when he sees you ignoring his presence, keeping your eyes on some of the girls you were with. 

“You okay, baby?” he asks, whispering into your ear as he wraps an arm around you and rests his hand on your hip. You shrug, your body rigid as he pulls you closer to him. You know you’re being a little overdramatic; you’re sure the girl walked away pouting because Buck told her that he was taken, but you’re too jealous to listen to the voice of reason in your head.

“Perfect.” you reply shortly, your jaw clenched as you keep your eyes straight ahead of you. He keeps his eyes on you, and when you don’t even bother looking at him, he squeezes your hip, hoping it’ll get your attention.

“Hey, what’s up?” Are you mad at me?” he asks desperately. He hates when you’re mad at him. He doesn’t see it often, at least, not real anger. You’ve argued over silly things, of course, and he’s not unused to seeing how you get when you’re hangry, but it’s not very often you have actual fights.

“Do I have a reason to be mad at you?” you reply coldly, finally turning your head to look up at him with a raised brow. You’re glad the girls have noticed your anger, and have turned to talk to each other. 

“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” Buck says, his brows furrowed in confusion. He doesn’t even think of that girl earlier; he barely even paid attention to her. He couldn’t tell you a single thing about her. He was too focused on you coming back to him.

“Then why would I be mad at you?” you reply, although your tone tells him that you’re clearly mad at him.

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking you.” Your sweet boy, always the voice of reason. He’s always eager to talk things out; he never wants things to grow into a bigger problem. Usually, you love it, but right now, it’s making you even more upset.

“Do you wanna go somewhere and talk?” he asks when you don’t answer right away. You huff, shaking your head, then turn your attention back to the girls who aren’t even facing you anymore.

“Not particularly.” you reply shortly. He huffs, grabbing your forearm gently and turning you to face him. He’s had enough of this. He just wants you to talk to him.

“Come on, baby. Can we go talk, please?” he asks, desperation in his eyes. He’s driving you insane right now; pretending not to know what you’re upset about.

“Do we have to? I thought you wanted to enjoy the party? I wouldn’t wanna stop you from that.” you reply in a mocking tone, crossing your arms over your chest as you finally face him.

“Baby, please. You know I want to be with you tonight. Please talk to me.” You groan, finally snapping and grabbing his wrist, beginning to pull him out of the house and towards your house. He drops his cup on a table haphazardly as he passes by it, eyes focused on you. 

He stays quiet as you pull him in the direction of your house, waiting for a minute before he speaks in a hushed tone, wary of the people walking past you two on the sidewalk.

“So? What’s up?” You shake your head, continuing to walk. You don’t want to argue with him in the middle of the sidewalk. 

He huffs, but keeps following you all the way to your house. When you’re finally in your room, the house eerily silent with your roommate still at the party, you finally turn to face him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Are you gonna explain why you’re so mad at me now?” he asks, trying desperately to keep the distance you’ve put between the two of you. You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“You’re really gonna keep playing dumb?” you ask angrily, narrowing your eyes at him. His eyes widen, and he tilts his head to the side, trying to think of a reason for your feelings.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, baby. Really. Just, please tell me why you’re upset.” he pleads, his voice softening. He wants nothing more than to see your pretty smile again, and he hates that he’s the reason for your frown.

“You were flirting with that girl! And don’t act like you weren’t because I saw you.” you seethe. Deep down, you know he’d never do that, but your jealousy is getting the best of you. His eyes widen further, and he shakes his head and stutters as he tries to come up with a reply. He’s taken back by your accusation. He would never do that. He has you. His sweet girl.

“I wasn’t flirting with her! She came up to me and was flirting with me, and I was trying to be polite. Is that really why you’re mad? Baby, you know I only want you.” His voice gets softer as he speaks, and he takes a step forward, desperate to touch you.

“It sure didn’t look like you were just being polite. You touched her.” you snap, jaw clenched as he takes a step forward.

“She was drunk; she was stumbling around. I was keeping her steady so she didn’t fall over. Come on, baby, you know I only want you.” he pleads, crossing the distance, reaching a hand out to you. You shake your head, taking a step back before you turn and walk towards your bed. 

You sit on the edge of your bed, putting your head in your hands. You know he’s right. His reassurances are slowly helping, but you’re still angry. He’s yours, and you don’t want to share. Ever.

“Baby, please. You know I wouldn’t do that to you.” he whispers, kneeling down in front of you, trying to meet your eyes as they remain focused on the floor.

“I know you wouldn’t. But I know what I saw.” you reply in a softer voice. You don’t want to argue anymore. You’re tired. But even so, your hair is standing on end, and you can feel your teeth grinding.

“You saw me keeping her from falling. Yes, she was flirting with me, but I didn’t reciprocate.” he explains, putting his hands on the top of your legging-clad thighs. You bite your lip, finally looking up at him.

“What can I do, baby? Let me show you that you’re the only one I want. Please.” he practically begs, his hands slowly moving up your thick thighs. You let out a shaky sigh, feeling goosebumps erupt on your skin from his touch, even through your leggings. 

“How are you gonna do that?” you ask softly, your heartbeat quickening as you sit up straighter and lean back on your hands.

“Let me show you, baby. Let me make you feel good. Show you how much I love you.” You bite your lip, a smirk coming onto your face at his desperate expression. You’re still angry, but it’s being clouded over by the sheer power you feel as you take in your boyfriend on his knees, begging to please you.

“Can I?” he asks, his voice almost a whimper as his fingers dance across the waistband of your leggings. 

“You better.” you reply in a slightly mocking tone. He smiles, tugging on your leggings eagerly. You lift your hips and let him pull your leggings and panties down in one go.

“Yes ma’am.” he whispers with a hint of a smirk, beginning to press feather light kisses up your inner thighs. As soon as his lips touch your thighs, he lets out a desperate moan, his smirk long gone as he looks up at you with desperate eyes.

“God, I love you so much, baby. Love your pretty body.” he murmurs against your skin, working his way up your thighs to your core. 

You bite your lip as he kisses you, and you move one of your hands to his hair, slowly pushing it back.

“You gonna show me, baby?” you ask in a sweet tone, although there’s a hint of condescension in your tone. Buck groans, nodding, and he can feel his dick twitching in his pants at your tone.

“Yeah, baby. I’m gonna show you. I’ll do anything you want.” he tells you eagerly, now dangerously close to your dripping centre.

“You know what to do.” you tell him, a smirk on your face as you hold eye contact with him. He wastes no time in pushing your legs even further apart, and wrapping his arms around your thighs. He lowers his mouth to your cunt, licking a firm strip up your folds before nuzzling into your heat, sucking and lapping eagerly.

You bite your lip, letting out a shaky sigh as you grip his hair tightly. He’s always eager to use his mouth on you, but now, you think he’ll have you seeing stars in record time.

“I’m all yours, baby. My sweet girl. God, you taste like heaven.” he murmurs against you, groaning. He darts his tongue into your cunt, using his nose to nudge at your clit, and you moan, tilting your head back and pushing his head further against you.

“Yeah? You’re all mine?” you ask shakily, and he nods eagerly, moaning.

“All yours. I only want you, baby.” he whimpers, taking his mouth away from you just long enough to speak before he’s diving back in, circling his tongue around your clit.

“Is that good, baby? Is this what you wanted?” you ask in a condescending tone when you feel his actions quicken slightly, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs.

“So good, baby. I love making you feel good. Taste so good.” he mumbles, although you can barely understand him as he keeps his head burrowed between your legs.

“Yeah? Just me? Or would you rather that girl at the party?” you ask sarcastically. He growls, his teeth grazing your clit as he looks up at you. You gasp, your grip tightening on his hair as you let out a soft laugh at his unimpressed reaction.

“Only you, baby. She’s nothing compared to you. So pretty.” he tells you, his eyes glancing down at your glistening folds as he speaks.

“Good answer. Now, are you gonna make me come, or am I not gonna let you touch me for a whole week?” you ask in a stern tone, licking your lips as he whimpers.

“God. Please, baby. Wanna make you come, please.” he murmurs, taking his mouth away to push two fingers into your dripping hole. You moan loudly as his lips attach back to your clit, and you can feel your stomach tighten at the feeling of both his fingers and mouth working you fervently.

“So good for me, baby. Don’t stop.” you purr, trying desperately to keep your eyes on him as you feel the familiar sensation growing in the pit of your tummy.

“Won’t stop. Wouldn’t dream of it.” he mutters, curling his fingers to push against that spot inside of you.

“Buck. Oh my god.” you whine loudly, tilting your head back as you finally let go. He smiles against your cunt, lapping up your juices until he’s sure he’s gotten it all, desperate to work you through your orgasm.

“How was that, baby?” he asks when he finally pulls away, his chin glistening with your juices.

“Did so good, baby. So good for me.” you tell him, trying to slow your heavy breathing as you push his hair back with the hand previously gripping his hair tightly.

He beams, kissing your thighs gingerly. You almost laugh; he’s looking up at you with bright, wide eyes, he almost looks like a sad puppy.

“Thank you. Taste so good, baby. Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” he murmurs, continuing to kiss your sensitive thighs.

“You think you should be forgiven now?” you ask in a slightly teasing tone. You know you’ve forgiven him; you forgave him as soon as his lips touched your core, but you can’t help but continue for a little bit longer.

“Yes. Please. Please forgive me, pretty girl. I only want you.” he pleads, squeezing your thighs.

You laugh softly, caressing his cheek, and he leans into your touch immediately.

“I forgive you, baby. But if I see something like that again, I won’t be so nice.” you tease, although there’s a sternness in your voice. He nods quickly, pressing one last kiss to your thigh.

“Promise, baby. It won’t happen again. I love you.” he says desperately. You keep a straight face for a moment before you smile, nodding.

“I know, and I love you, too. Now give me a kiss.” you tell him softly. He’s quick to unwrap his arms from your thighs, standing up and pushing you back onto the bed. He crawls over top of you, slotting between your legs as he kisses you with fervor. 

You can taste yourself on his tongue as his tongue glides across your lips, and you part them gently, pulling him closer by his shirt.

“I love you. My pretty girl.” he murmurs against your lips, and you smile, continuing to kiss him.You know you may have overreacted, but it was definitely worth it to see him like this.

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[angstywaifu]

Lead The Way - Xaden Riorson

Had a few requests for a Xaden with friends to lovers, jealousy and forced confession/happy ending. So here you are!

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“You did good today.” Xaden comments as we head down from the flight field back to the Quadrant.

I smile up at him as I remove my flight goggles and shove them in my pack. “Thanks. I’ve been trying to nail that manoeuvre for a few weeks. Glad I finally got it.”

”Never a doubt in my mind you wouldn’t. You’re one of the better riders here.” He tells me, giving me one of his rare true smiles.

”Not compared to you. It was like you were born to be a rider.” I tell him as we make our way into the courtyard. Across the courtyard I spot Emery leaning up against the wall of the Rotunda waiting for me. “Speaking of which, I have a study session to attend.”

”Study session? With who?” Xaden asks before turning his head and looking over at Heaton.

”Emery. I’ve been helping him with Physics while he’s been helping me with some hand to hand combat.” I tell him with a shrug.

”Why didn’t you come to me for help?” Xaden’s head snapping back to mine, almost looking hurt I hadn’t gone to him.

”You’re busy with that other stuff. And I have the same classes as Emery.” I tell him with a small smile. “You don’t need to be jealous.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “I am not jealous. You are more than welcome to spend your time with whoever you want.”

I don’t believe him. Not one bit. I know he’s been watching me with Emery. His eyes always on us when we spar together, walk to classes together and sit in the dining hall together. Part of me had been wanting him to say something, do something. But it hadn’t happened. But I could tell day by day it was getting to him.

”Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.” I tell him before turning and walking over to Emery as they push off the wall.

“Why are you standing here glaring across the courtyard?” Garrick asks as he walks in from the flight field.

”I am not glaring. Just observing.” I tell him while watching Emery walk off with her towards the Library.

”You know, you could just man up and do something about that. Like I don’t know, tell her how you feel?” He teases me as he joins me in watching them disappear into the Rotunda.

”There’s nothing to tell her. She’s just my friend.” I snap before turning and walking towards the dorms.

Garrick is quick to follow, clearly not wanting to let this go. “You sure? Because it looks like you want to rip Emery’s head off.”

I spin around, causing Garrick to stumble to a halt. “Fine, maybe I do want her as more than a friend. But it doesn’t matter. I am not a good option for her. She deserves better. Deserves someone who wont put her in danger just for being with them. She deserves someone like Emery who doesn’t have a massive target on his back.”

”And you deserve to be happy. And last time I checked, she’s marked like us. She already has a target on her back regardless of who she is with. But fine with me if you want to stand back and let her end up with someone else. Your loss.” He tells me with a shrug before pushing past me.

Fuck. I hated when he was right.

“Ready to get your ass kicked.” Emery teases as we walk into the gym.

Like most nights it’s filled with a handful of cadets wanting to get some extra training in. And as per usual, I find Xaden’s onyx eyes immediately focused on Emery and I as he leans against a wall as he and Garrick train some other marked ones.

I look away, turning my attention back to Emery. “Please, have you seen how much I’ve improved. I’m gonna kick your ass.”

He shakes his head and laughs at me, smiling down at me in a way that has recently started to make my heart skip a beat. Something only Xaden could do till recently. But I’d come to realise those feelings must be one sided. If Xaden wanted something, he took it. And it had become clear he did not want me. Hadn’t tried to make a single move. The only hint was the comment he’d made a few weeks ago when we’d come back from a flight with Garrick and I’d gone to a study session with Emery. But since then I’d had nothing. It was clear he was just annoyed I’d made another friend.

”I’ll believe it when I see it.” Emery tells me as we drop our packs against the wall.

I follow him to the mat, putting my hair into a messy bun so he can’t grab the ponytail I usually wore. He’d always told me it made an easy target to grab. And after two months of training I had recently started to listen. And my head was thankful for the change. No more headaches from him yanking on it when I tried to get away.

”How about we mix it up.” A familiar voice drawls from behind me, making my blood run cold. “You two have been training a lot together. Can’t have you two getting use to one fighting style.”

Emery shifts from the fighting stance he’d taken as he lowers the sword he’d chosen to use for tonight as he shrugs. “Fair point. Only way you’ll get better.” He says, agreeing with Xaden.

Emery didn’t know Xaden like I did. He’d been watching us train together for a while now. Not once had he had an issue with it. And Xaden wasn’t one to willingly offer his help like this. To me, yes. But definitely not to Emery. And as I turn to look at him, his gaze is not on me. He’s focused on Emery.

”My thoughts exactly. How about we do a demonstration for Y/N here, so she can observe.” Xaden says with a smirk.

”Sounds good to me.” Emery says with a smile as he looks between Xaden and I.

I knew fighting back would do nothing. Xaden would shut down any objection I had and Emery was definitely on board with showing me some different fighting styles. But I knew Xaden’s fighting style. We grew up together. I knew how he fought. I didn’t need this. And Xaden knew that. I step off the mat, joining Garrick who had followed Xaden over from where they’d been training prior.

”What the hell is he doing?” I ask Garrick as Xaden and Emery start fighting. Both of them having discarded their swords for hand to hand combat instead. Something I knew Xaden easily had the upper hand in.

”This is him dealing with something he doesn’t know how to verbalise.” He tells me with a smirk.

”And what would that be?” I ask, turning my attention away from the mat.

Garrick turns his head and laughs. “You two are as bad as each other. Both oblivious to how the other feels.”

I recoil, not expecting Garrick to know my feelings towards Xaden. “He just see’s me as a friend. He’s just jealous I’m spending less time with you guys.”

The way Garrick cocks his eyebrow tells me everything I need to know. “He doesn’t think he’s good enough for you. Thinks you deserve better than him. Which maybe you do. But you two have been tiptoeing around this since we all got here. So you need to decide. Do you risk your friendship with Xaden?”

I open my mouth to respond, but the sound of bone cracking followed muffled profanities has my head whipping towards the mat. Emery stumbles back from Xaden as he clutches his nose, blood dripping from his hand. I rush forward to help him, but stop as Xaden turns to walk off. I reach out, grabbing his wrist and pull him back.

”What the hell was that?” I snap.

”Nothing. Just a simple training injury. He’ll be fine.” He tells me sternly before turning to walk away again.

”Bullshit.” I say loudly, causing him to stop and look at me over his shoulder. “This wasn’t you trying to help. I know you’re fighting style. We trained together as kids. So what the hell was that?”

He shakes his head, lowering his eyes to look at the ground, his hands tightening into fists. “Trust me, just leave it be.”

He steps forward to walk away again, clearly determined to just leave this be. But I wasn’t. I step forward, grasping his wrist again and pull him back to me as I grab his shirt and pull him down to me. I feel him freeze as my lips meet his. His whole body going rigid. Shit. Garrick was wrong. He doesn’t want me. I go to step back, our lips barely separating before his hands grasp my hips and pull me against him before crushing his lips back to mine. Kissing Xaden is exactly as I imagined. He wasn’t a gentle person. And he kissed liked it. Rough, desperate and passionate. Kissing me as if he couldn’t get enough of me. As if this was the only chance he would get. His hands gripping my hips so tightly I’m sure I’d have bruises tomorrow. But I didn’t care. I moan as he bites on my lower lip, completely forgetting we weren’t alone till Garrick clears his throat loudly, causing me to jump back from Xaden.

”About fucking time.” Emery says with a grin, still clutching his nose as we all laugh nervously.

I reach down, grabbing one of Xaden’s hands, pulling him towards the door.

”Where are we going?” He asks as he falls into step next to me.

”Proving to you that you are good enough for me.” I tell him.

”Lead the way.” He says with a smirk, falling back just enough to let me drag him out the door.