#so now I hate work and I hate not being at work and it’s like ok so what’s the point??? what was the point of all that
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fastandcarlos · 1 day ago
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End Of The World : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: you were fine that morning, so when lando suddenly gets a phone call that changes his things upside down, it feels as if his world has come crashing down
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His heart sunk as Lando tried to get his head around what he was told on the phone. It was a blur of words to him as Lando tried to piece it altogether, tears falling freely down his cheeks. His knees buckled from underneath him as Lando dropped down into a chair, his breath shaky, heart racing as the call came to an end. 
He couldn’t quite believe it, your smile the last thing he saw that morning. Yet after being hit on your way to work, Lando’s world suddenly felt as if it was crashing down, hearing that your unconscious body had been transported to the nearest hospital. 
“I-I need to go,” Lando stuttered as he stood up from the meeting, rushing out of the building before anyone could reply. Panicked eyes watched Lando, but he was long gone, sprinting as fast as he could out of the building to where his car was parked. The journey was a blur as Lando blinked through his tears, hurrying into the hospital, shouting out your name. 
He was stopped by a doctor holding onto his shoulders, noticing how distressed he was. 
“Right this way,” the doctor told him, leading him down the corridor to where Lando could find you. “There is one thing that I must tell you first, your girlfriend is not in a good way. There’s extensive damage, most of it physical, which you need to prepare for.” 
“I don’t care,” Lando whispered, “I just want to be with her, please.” 
As the door to your room opened, a sharp intake of breath came from him. Lando couldn’t believe his eyes as he noticed the cuts and grazes all over your body, the machines around your bedside with cables attached to your body to keep you alive. 
“Oh, love,” Lando hummed, rushing to sit down beside you, placing his hand delicately over yours. You were cold, fragile, nothing like the warmth he usually received from you. “I’m here now,” Lando told you, brushing the pad of his thumb over the back of your hand. “She’s going to be alright, isn’t she?” 
“She’s stable,” the doctor informed him, standing in the doorway to your room. “The injuries are quite severe; we’re going to have to be closely monitoring your partner for a little while longer before we can make any decisions.” 
“Is there going to be any lasting damage? Permanently?” 
“Most of her injuries will heal with time,” the doctor tried his best to assure Lando, offering him a weak smile. “It sounds like the driver lost control of their car when they hit your partner’s, she overturned into the road,” he added, watching Lando flinch as he pictured the scene of the crash.  
All he could see was your car, with you terrified inside of it. Lando hated thinking about how you felt, how scared you must have been when that impact came, all alone in your car. He could imagine you calling out for him to help you, only he was nowhere to be found. 
His free hand continued to wipe under his eyes as Lando continued to study you. He’d lost count of how many marks he found, bruises, scrapes, cuts, not to mention the dry blood that was in your hairline. He wished he could do something, anything, to take the pain away. 
The doctor left the room, leaving Lando all by himself with you, giving him the time that he needed. His mind was racing with his own thoughts as his eyes stayed staring down at you, struggling to believe how his life had managed to turn upside down in only a blink of an eye. 
“I’m not leaving your side,” Lando whispered as he squeezed your hand, “I promise that you’re going to be alright.” 
The lack of response from you sent a shiver down Lando’s spine. Usually you’d laugh, or smile, give him some sort of reaction, but instead Lando was left with nothing from you. 
“I hate that you went through this all alone,” Lando added, moving one of his hands to brush over the top of your head through your hair. “I love you, however long you need to I’m going to be there for you. I know I joke about telling you to shut up all the time, but now I really could do with hearing your voice sweetheart.” 
The only sound in the room was the beep of the machines, letting Lando know that you were still there. It was a steady beat, which the doctor assured him was a good sign, but the only sign that Lando would take was the one when your eyes opened up. 
The hours he spent at the hospital soon became days, turning into a couple of weeks. Lando could hardly remember what the outside looked like as he spent every possible second with you, making sure that you knew that he was right there with you. 
When they could, his family and friends would stay with him for a while, even some of the other drivers had stopped by too. Mostly they were there to check on Lando, knowing that he’d no doubt neglect himself as he tried to focus all his energy on you instead. 
“There you are,” one of the nurses smiled as Lando walked through the hospital doors again, rushing down the corridor to get to him. “We were wondering if we were going to see you again.” 
Lando looked suspiciously across at her, following behind as she walked down to where your room was. “Has something happened?” 
“Don’t worry,” she smiled, saying nothing more as they got to the door to your room. “I’ll come and see how she’s getting on in a bit.” 
Lando nodded as he opened up the door, placing his phone into his pocket that he held. The regular beeping greeted him, although as Lando’s eyes looked up, his heart stopped as he saw a familiar pair of eyes staring back across at him. 
Lando rushed in, taking his usual seat beside you. 
“You’re awake,” he whispered, leaning across and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Are you alright? Do you need anything?” Lando fretted, eyes studying you closely. 
Your head faintly shook, the amount of pain you were in evident from the expression that was on your face. “I’m fine,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. 
A sigh came from Lando as he heard just how weak you were for the very first time. “You’ve got no idea how scared I was, I thought I was going to lose you, like the end of the world or something.” 
There was a look of disbelief on Lando’s face as he held onto your hand, struggling to believe that you were there with him. It would still be a long recovery for you, but it was the start that he had been hoping for. 
“You’ve got no idea how many people have stopped by to visit you,” Lando told you, “I always knew that everyone adored you, but I had no idea just how much, they’re all going to be so happy to hear you’re awake.” 
Your smile slowly turned up as Lando spoke, your mind was foggy as you tried to figure how much you had missed, still so uncertain as to what had happened. 
“You’re going to be alright,” Lando smiled, squeezing against your hand once again. “I’m going to be with you every single second, I promise.” 
“W-what happened?” You stuttered, voice faltering as you looked to Lando to try and make sense of everything and fit the missing jigsaw pieces together. 
Lando frowned, “your car was overturned, some guy lost control and went crashing into you, but you don’t need to worry about that, everything is getting sorted.” 
Your head nodded as Lando pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I love you,” you whispered as his ear brushed your lips. 
“I love you too, I’m so glad that you’re okay.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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certaimromance · 2 days ago
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𝜗𝜚 Spooky Call.
Spencer Reid x Hotchner!reader
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Summary: When your boyfriend gets a call from you, the last thing he expects to hear is that you're being held at a police station for decorating your house.
Words: 2,2k.
TW: fem!reader. mention of haley's death, jack, crime, murder, blood (fake). reader was arrested (obviously). implication that the reader is wearing jeans and shirt (not very descriptive). reader is hotch's sister. established relationship. spencer being the standard. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: This was the last fic of my october special, but I had problems and never posted it, so I had to change the plot a bit and here it is.
♡ Enjoy! ♡
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You’ve always hated asking for help. It wasn’t just a matter of pride—it was the belief that you could, and should, handle everything yourself. Life, however, had a cruel way of reminding you that it didn’t always work like that. Everyone needs help sometimes. At least, that’s what people—well-meaning friends, family, even your boyfriend—kept telling you. We live in a society; there are people who love you; they’d want to help, they’d say. Blah, blah, blah. The sentiment was kind, sure, but it never stuck with you. Not really.
Today, though, maybe you should’ve listened.
All you wanted was to throw your nephew a belated Halloween party. It wasn’t like you were planning anything crazy. Just a few decorations, some music, and a bit of creativity—how hard could it be? Nothing about it seemed complicated or dangerous, not at first. You’d seen your brother overwhelmed trying to keep things normal for Jack, and you figured this was something you could handle on your own. Something small but meaningful.
Somehow, things got out of your control, and now you were sitting in your boyfriend's car in the police station parking lot trying to organize your thoughts to explain to him how you had ended up arrested in the first place.
“This has a perfectly reasonable and not at all criminal explanation. I swear.” You began to speak as you noticed by the watch on his wrist that three minutes of complete silence had already passed.
It had only been a year since you started dating officially, and there were still some things you were afraid Spencer would see, especially the things that got you in trouble for doing stupid things. You'd liked him for a long time, even before he realized you could be more than just his friend and his boss's sister. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin everything and make him run away in terror, even though that didn't sound very much like him or his values.
“This better be a good explanation,” Reid finally said, his voice calm but tinged with confusion. He placed the car keys down in the cupholder and turned to look at you fully. “Because right now, I’m struggling to understand how decorating your house could get you arrested.”
You squirmed in your seat, the knot in your stomach twisting tighter. “It’s…complicated,” you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.
Please don't think I'm weird. Please don't think I'm weird. Please don't think I'm weird. That was the only thing that kept repeating in your mind.
“I’m sure it is,” he finally said, his tone dry but still patient, his gaze never wavering.
You exhaled sharply, dragging your hands down your face. “Okay. So, I started with simple decorations—some cobwebs, pumpkins, and all the usual stuff. But it just…it wasn’t enough. I wanted to do something big. Something really cool.”
He raised an eyebrow, silently urging you to continue.
“So, I got this idea,” you said, hesitating. You could already feel the heat rising in your face. “I took a garbage bag, stuffed it with paper to make it look like a body, and then—” You paused, your voice dropping slightly. “Then I added some fake blood. A lot of fake blood.”
His eyes widened, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying to hold back a laugh. “You didn’t.”
“I did,” you admitted, wincing. “But it looked amazing! For like…five minutes.” You gestured vaguely toward the dashboard, trying to find the words to defend yourself. “I might have spilled some of the fake blood on the lawn. And…it might’ve looked a little too real.”
Too real, extra real.
“A little?” Spencer asked, incredulous. “You mean realistic enough to make the neighbors call the cops?”
You winced, expecting him to think you were ridiculous—or worse, stupid. But then, to your surprise, his lips quirked into a soft laugh.
“Hey, don’t laugh at me!” You snapped, crossing your arms over your chest when you saw the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
Yeah, maybe you didn't want him to think you were weird, but you didn't like being laughed at either.
“I’m not laughing,” he said, though the hint of amusement in his voice betrayed him.
“You are absolutely laughing,” you huffed, your pout deepening. “It’s not funny, Spencer.”
He took a deep breath, finally managing to suppress his laughter—mostly. His hand reached out to tilt your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his gaze. The warmth in his hazel eyes softened the sting of your embarrassment.
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely, though his lips still twitched with the ghost of a smile. “I really am, angel. But you have to admit, you went a little overboard with the ‘terrifying’ concept.”
And there it was, the kind of sweetness that had made you fall for him so hard. The kind you'd expect to receive without question after spending at least half an hour locked in a filthy cell.
You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, maybe. But in my head, it wasn’t that bad,” you said weakly. “It just…went a little wrong.”
“A little?” he repeated, his eyebrows raising again. “You got arrested. You scared half the neighborhood into thinking they’d stumbled onto a crime scene.”
“At least it wasn’t illegal!” You shot back, crossing your arms defensively. “I didn’t actually hurt anyone. I just made a mess. With fake blood.”
Spencer’s gaze dropped to your hands, where smears of red clung stubbornly to your skin. His eyes flicked to your clothes—your jeans, your shirt, both stained with dried streaks of crimson. A slow grin spread across his face.
“It wasn’t illegal, but now you look like you walked off the set of a slasher movie,” he said, his voice filled with teasing affection. “Here—and here.” He gestured to a streak of red on your shoulder, then another on your cheek.
You were about to protest when he suddenly leaned in. His face was so close now, his breath warm against your skin. Before you could say another word, his lips brushed softly against yours—a brief, gentle kiss that caught you off guard. You froze for a moment, your heart skipping a beat. Then, as if it had all been a slow, perfect dance, you melted into him. His lips were warm and tender, the kiss slow and sweet, like a quiet promise that everything, even in the chaos of your night, was going to be okay.
When he pulled back, your breath caught, your chest fluttering in that way only he could make you feel. His grin was wide, playful, but there was something else in his eyes—a depth, a tenderness that made your heart thud. You blinked up at him, still dazed from the warmth of his kiss.
“For the record,” he murmured, his voice soft, his lips still dangerously close to yours, “I never thought you were a criminal. Just a little…overly enthusiastic.”
You couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine, warm sound bubbling out of you. “Overly enthusiastic,” you echoed, shaking your head. “That’s one way to put it.”
“And messy,” he added, his eyes twinkling as they lingered on the fake blood smeared across your face.
“Don’t push your luck, Dr. Reid,” you warned, though the smile on your face betrayed you.
Spencer chuckled softly, the sound melting into the quiet of the car. He leaned in then, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss that felt like a promise—quiet, tender, and full of unspoken reassurance. The warmth of his touch seeped into you, and you closed your eyes for a brief moment, savoring the comfort of his presence.
As he pulled back, he studied you with that signature look—the one that always made you feel like he could see straight into your soul. His brow furrowed slightly, and you recognized that expression well: the one he wore when he was about to ask something important, when he wanted to understand you better. It was a look that never failed to make your heart flutter, even if it made you feel vulnerable.
“Okay,” he said slowly, his tone gentler now. “I get wanting to make the decorations amazing, but why was it so important? Why go all out to the point of, well…” He gestured vaguely toward you, his lips twitching again. “Fake crime scene levels of effort?”
You hesitated, his question hitting you like a wave. You knew the answer, but speaking it aloud felt heavier than you had anticipated. It was as though the words themselves had a weight you hadn’t been prepared to carry. You lowered your gaze, absently picking at the hem of your shirt as you fought to find the right words, your mind tangled in emotions that were hard to articulate.
Reid didn’t push, though. His silence was patient, waiting for you to open up at your own pace. It was one of the things you adored about him—the way he didn’t rush, didn’t demand. He just let you be, trusting you would share when you were ready.
Finally, you exhaled a shaky breath and met his eyes, the vulnerability in your voice clear as you spoke. “It’s not just about the decorations,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s about Jack.”
His expression shifted immediately, his eyes softening with understanding but remaining focused as you continued.
“I just…” You swallowed, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I want to be the perfect aunt for him, you know? Someone who makes things better, even if just for a little while. He’s been through so much—losing Hayley, seeing my brother juggle everything just to make sure Jack’s okay…” Your voice wavered, and you clenched your hands to steady yourself. “He’s only a kid. He deserves to feel happy and safe and…loved.”
Maybe that last word was too personal, and maybe your boyfriend noticed.
He reached out, his fingers brushing against yours in a silent offer of comfort. You took his hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you enough to keep going.
“I know I can’t replace his mom, and I’d never try to,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I thought maybe, just maybe, if I did this party right—if I made it something really special—it could be a distraction. Something fun. Something he could look back on and smile about instead of just…” You trailed off, biting your lip as the words lodged in your throat.
He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “Instead of just remembering what he’s lost,” he finished for you, his voice soft and understanding.
You nodded, blinking back the sting of tears. “Yeah.”
The car was quiet for a moment, the weight of your confession settling between you. Then Spencer shifted closer, his free hand reaching up to brush a stray tear from your cheek. The tenderness in his touch made your chest ache in a way that was both painful and comforting.
“You don’t have to be perfect,” he said gently, his voice steady and sure. “You’re already doing more for him than you realize. Just by being there, by loving him the way you do…that’s what matters. Not decorations or parties or anything else.”
His words hit you squarely in the heart, and you let out a shaky laugh, the tension in your chest loosening just a fraction. “I just wanted it to be perfect,” you admitted, leaning into his touch. “I didn’t want to mess it up and end up in a cell.”
Reid smiled softly, his fingers brushing lightly against your jaw as he held your gaze. “You didn’t mess it up,” he said firmly. “Okay, maybe the decorations were a little unconventional,” he added with a playful glint in his eye. “But your heart was in the right place. And Jack knows that. He loves you and thinks you’re wonderful, just like I do.”
You felt your breath catch at his words, the warmth in his eyes making your cheeks flush despite everything. “You’ve really become good at this, you know,” you said quietly, a small smile tugging at your lips. “The whole comforting and making me blushing thing.”
He let out a soft chuckle, giving your cheek a gentle tap with his thumb before pulling back slightly. “I might have read eleven books to brush up on a few things and be better,” he said, his tone light but not dismissive.
You chuckled, the sound lifting the tension that had been pulling at your chest. “Eleven books? You really went all in on this, huh?”
His arm slipped around your shoulders, drawing you closer, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against you grounding and reassuring. “When it’s you,” he said softly, “I’d go even further than that.”
You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the weight of the world ease off your shoulders. A quiet thought lingered in your mind, one you hadn’t been able to put into words until now. “But…sometimes, don’t you think I’m weird?” you asked, the vulnerability creeping in despite yourself.
Please say no.
“Weird? No,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “I think you’re perfect.” He paused for a moment, then added with a soft laugh, “And every day, I’m grateful you don’t think I’m weird either.”
You smiled, the knot in your chest loosening, the weight of uncertainty fading as his words settled in. “Guess we both can be a little weird then,” you said, the truth of it comforting you more than you expected.
He chuckled, the sound easy and light, as he pulled you a little closer, holding you in a way that spoke of quiet promises. “It’s perfect for me.”
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kickair8p · 1 day ago
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Image is of white text on a black background, no attribution or time/date info. Capitalization/punctuation transcribed as-is. Image text reads:
I was at a shitty crustpunk bar once getting an after-work beer. One of those shitholes where the bartenders clearly hate you. So the bartender and I were ignoring one another when someone sits next to me and he immediately says, “no. get out.”
And the dude next to me says “hey i'm not doing anything, i'm a paying customer.” and the bartender reaches under the counter for a bat or something and says, “out. now.” and the dude leaves, kind of yelling. And he was dressed in a punk uniform, I noticed
Anyway, I asked what that was about and the bartender was like, “you didn't see his vest but it was all nazi shit. Iron crosses and stuff. You get to recognize them.”
And i was like, ohok and he continues.
“you have to nip it in the bud immediately. These guys come in and it's always a nice, polite one. And you serve then because you don't want to cause a scene. And then they become a regular and after awhile they bring a friend. And that dude is cool too.
And then THEY bring friends and the friends bring friends and they stop being cool and then you realize, oh shit, this is a Nazi bar now. And it's too late because they're entrenched and if you try to kick them out, they cause a PROBLEM. So you have to shut them down.”
And i was like “oh damn.” and he said “yeah, you have to ignore their reasonable arguments because their end goal is to be terrible, awful people.”
And then he went back to ignoring me. But I haven't forgotten that at all.
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More to it
I just love friends to lovers. ~900 words
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Thinking about BSF!Jason Todd and how neither of you are willing to cross that line. You're both balancing on what's more and what isn't, both desperate for something you're not willing to name but so scared to risk losing it all.
What you have now is comfortable, safe, and if being more doesn't work? Could you ever go back to what you had? Is the reward really worth playing with fate?
It's honestly so dumb because it's obvious you're both a thread snap away from breaking the growing tension between you. You see the way his fingers twitch towards you when you walk past him, and he catches the way your breath hitches when he tilts his head down to meet your eyes.
You'd have to blind not to notice the way his gaze locks onto you from across the room. He'd have to be oblivious to not see how your knees go weak when he laughs at your jokes. You're locked in each other's gravity, drawn in by way your hearts slot together without the need for words.
Everyone already thinks you're together, even when you say you're not. There's no hiding the lovestruck look in either of your faces, the way he drapes his arm over your shoulder, the way you lean into his side like it's the only place in the world you want to be.
His family doesn't tease you as much about it anymore. Sometimes, you wish they would, even for the excuse to talk about it. There's no label between you other than he's your best friend. And maybe it doesn't need to be more. (But you'd like it to be)
Even strangers think you're together. The guy flirting with you is quick to turn on his heel with an apology on his lips at the sight of Jason. Worse is, you don't hate it. If anything, you like it.
There's almost a pride in it, how people fawn over how cute you and him are together. Neither of you ever correct them, even if you should, and it only continues to blur the line between friend and more.
But when you both finally break? You break hard. It's feverish, your fingers fisted into clothes and his hands cradling your face. You're not even sure what caused it or who moved first. You don't even bother to try to figure it out when he presses you against the wall to kiss you deeper.
It could have been the way you'd reached out to brush his hair back in the elevator to your apartment. Or it could have been the way he tugged his jacket over your shoulders when you started to shiver. Or maybe it was the way you both just stopped in the doorway of your apartment, lingering in the charged air and basking in the closeness the entryway provided.
It doesn't really matter how. What matters is that the kiss seems to pull the air from your lungs, and his heart is beating to the sound of your name. What matters is that when he pulls away to catch his breath, you chase him for another kiss.
Neither of you can focus on what happens next, because it's the warmth of your skin seeping into his and your fingers tangling into his hair that keeps you in the now.
Now, which is so big and so small all at once because his world is narrowed to the angle you tilt your head to kiss him again and you could care less what's happening outside of your apartment, outside of him.
He's your best friend, and you've always been his, but all it took is one moment to destroy any idea of ever being just friends again.
Thinking about boyfriend!Jason Todd and how he always kisses you in the doorway of your apartment because it's 'tradition'. Don't even think about trying to get out of it, not that you'd ever want to, his hand is already curled in the back of your shirt to tug you closer.
One kiss turns into five and it's probably for the best he kisses you like this when you're coming home because you'd never get anywhere if he kissed you like this every time you have to leave.
No one even bats an eye when he kisses the top of your hair or when you thread your fingers with his in public. There's a new softness in his eyes and voice, less of a weight on his shoulders, and your face never lights up as brightly as it does when he's looking at you.
It's instinctual, the way you seem to blend into each other's lives even more now. Your sheets smell like him, your things end up in his apartment just as often as his does in yours.
Thinking about boyfriend!Jason Todd, and how you laugh about ever being nervous to be more with him. It's not always perfect, but it's real, and him and you against the world just like it's always been.
There's still movie nights, still days you set out on your mission to find the best food in Gotham together. But there's also dates, also love-struck words, and needy touches.
There's still late night conversations, still whispered secrets and confessions. But there's also hopeful, hushed tones that talk about the future, a future together.
He's still your best friend, but you're partners too, so he doesn't stop himself when his fingers twitch with the urge to touch you anymore. You don't hide the way you seem to melt in his presence.
He's yours, you're his, and it was never going to end any other way than like this, souls entwined and smiles fond.
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nadvs · 2 days ago
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the act of unravelling (part three)
pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader
rating mature 18+
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summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.
tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.
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Being in Rafe’s truck again is like being thrown back into a bad dream you can’t wake up from. You remember every detail from that night, the smell of bleach, the ache in your bones.
He parked by the edge of the country club lot, and as he settles in his seat and shuts the door, he wraps both of you in privacy behind his tinted windows.
“What is it?” you ask, your voice cutting through the tension. Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. He seems nervous, a contradiction to the smugness you’ve gotten used to.
“You were right,” he admits. “Cops aren’t even sniffing around yet and people think it was me.”
You meet his eyes, the blue hue bright and striking. The night it happened, you’d only seen him through the dark. Now, in the daylight, he almost looks innocent. But then you remember the loudness of the gun and how angry he looked when he fired it.
“What happened?” you ask.
“Last night,” he begins, “a few of us were hanging out and people were talking about how something might’ve happened to him. This guy had his name in my mouth… said some shit about how they should probably ask me.”
You nod slowly, taking his words in. You expected as much. As someone who openly hated Porter, Rafe’s likely at the top of everyone’s list of suspects.
“What’d you do?” you say.
“I swung at him.”
You exhale defeatedly, looking up at the ceiling of his car. He’s such a loose cannon that for the first time since that night, you worry that he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut.
“Damn it, Rafe,” you complain. “And you were giving me shit for being obvious?”
His temper flares like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline.
“I’m not gonna sit there and let some asshole say that shit about me,” he mutters. “This is why we need to have our story straight, alright? If you even think about ratting me out, you’ll regret it.”
You tense up. So, this is why he so desperately needed to talk to you. You can’t believe you thought you could find any comfort in him.
“You don’t need to threaten me,” you say sharply. Rafe is taken aback by the confusion on your face. You look like you’d never even considered selling him out. But maybe you’re just a great liar.
“We said we’re in this together,” you continue. “Neither of us leaves the other, no matter how messy it gets. That’s the whole point of being each other’s alibis.”
Rafe sucks his teeth. You realize just how on edge he is about this. He was so comfortable the night it happened. Almost careless. Irritated at how anxious you were. Now, it’s like he’s spiraling.
“I won’t let this ruin my life,” Rafe mumbles. He huffs an unamused chuckle, looking out of the driver’s side window. “I’m not going to jail. I’m not…”
He trails into silence. You stare at his profile. The coldness you’ve always seen in him has been shadowed by a deep paranoia.
“I’m freaked out, too,” you admit. He looks at you again. “But this is only going to work if we trust each other. We need to stick to our story so well that even we start to believe it.”
He tilts his head, looking at you with skepticism, a wrinkle between his brows.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about screwing me over, Pogue,” he says. “You could say I did it and scared you into staying quiet.”
“Are you that paranoid?” you ask. “I won’t go behind your back. I promise. Even if it’s just a cover-up, we need to act like we’re friends now.”
Rafe gives you a once-over, the hardness in his face slowly fading.
“And don’t call me that,” you say. “You know my name.”
He breathes a real chuckle this time. Despite your better judgement, your heart flutters now that you’ve earned a smile from him.
“You’ll take it to the grave?” he murmurs.
“I will. You, too?”
“Yeah,” he says. He studies you again, realizing that you don’t have a guilty conscience at all. “You really don’t regret it.”
“No,” you state. The agony of reliving what Porter did to you hurts more than any sort of remorse you feel for taking his life.
Rafe is surprised to hear you don’t wish you could take what you did back. You’re as cold-blooded as he is. You might be the only person who comes close to understanding what it’s like being controlled by anger this intense.
“I just hate how I can’t stop thinking about if we left any evidence,” you say.
“Yeah.” He settles back, adjusting in his seat with ease, the tension between you dissipating. “We were rushed.”
You nod as you chew on your lip.
“At least nobody saw us,” you say. “And if the cops check our phones, they won’t find anything.”
“Good thinking to turn them off.”
Your face creases in surprise.
“What?” he says.
“Just throws me off when you’re not an asshole.”
He scoffs, his jaw tensing. But beneath the irritation, he wishes he could undo the way he’d spoken to you when you first got in the car.
It’s like his mind is speaking a different language to him when he feels any sort of shame. He usually tries to shut it up. When he looks at you again, he decides not to.
“I didn’t mean to… threaten you,” Rafe mumbles.
“Yeah, you did,” you say with a humorless laugh. “But I’m on your side here. Don’t forget that.”
You check your phone. You have plans to hang out with the guys after work and after what you put them through a few nights ago, you’d rather not leave them hanging again.
“I should go,” you say. “My friends are waiting on me.”
“Did you tell them the truth?”
“No,” you say. “This stays between you and me only. Trust me.”
Rafe stares at you, longer than he ever has before. It’s not anger in his face. Not worry, either. It’s something new. Vulnerability.
“I don’t trust anybody,” he says.
Your lips twitch into a frown. Even though this is a man who’s relentlessly teased you for your place in the classist system he seems to worship, your heart twinges in sympathy.
“Nobody?” you ask quietly.
He looks out the window again, tense and distant. He doesn’t say anything else.
“I have your back,” you reiterate to him. “To the grave, right?”
“Yeah,” he offers, not looking at you again. You exit his car, the confusing knot in your chest only tighter now.
·········
The police start knocking on doors a day later. When they come to yours, you do your best impression of a clueless nobody who just wants to help.
The lead on the case introduces himself as Detective Brading, settling in your living room like he’s been here before. He’s so confident that it’s intimidating. You can imagine Porter’s wealthy family are doing everything they can to find out what happened. The man staring at you is likely the best of the best.
You’ve rehearsed your story so many times that it feels natural. The two men nod along as you lie to them about how you’d fallen asleep in the bedroom, how you’d woken up to him and Rafe arguing, how you convinced Rafe to leave with you.
Your parents stand close by, arms crossed. This is the most they’ve heard you speak in a long time. They hardly ever ask you anything about your life, so it feels odd to have their attention.
“We think you two might have been the last people to see him before he went missing,” Brading tells you. “Porter didn’t say anything about going anywhere?”
“No,” you answer. “Rafe and I left pretty quickly.”
The detective looks up at your parents with raised brows, asking them to give you a moment. When they leave, he leans a little closer.
“We know he dealt drugs,” he murmurs. “And we know you bought from him. We’re not interested in getting anyone in trouble for that. We just want to know what happened to Porter. Is there anything you didn’t mention about that night in front of your parents? Be honest.”
“I fell asleep because I smoked too much pot,” you say quietly, looking back through the doorway your parents left through. It’s taking everything in you not to cry as you think about why you really lost consciousness in that room. “But I only ever bought that from him. He offered other things. Like cocaine. It’s why he and Rafe argued.”
It’s what you agreed on saying, but it still feels like you’re selling Rafe out. It’d be suspicious if you didn’t tell them this version of the truth, though.
The detective nods, clearly having been told this already. Your chest twists in unease as you think about Rafe’s name in everyone’s mouth, leading the cops to him. And possibly to you.
“How close are you to Rafe?”
“We've been talking more since I started my job at the country club,” you say. “We started hanging out a little bit ago. We’re friends.”
“Do you think he would’ve done anything to Porter?” Brading asks.
You meet his eyes, swallowing hard.
“No,” you say resolutely. “I don’t.”
·········
A man is missing and possibly, at this point, presumed dead. But that doesn’t stop Kooks from wanting to party.
You’re in the passenger seat as JJ drives to the north side of the island while John B and Pope talk in the back. You’re gazing out the window, watching the landscape go from dilapidated front yards to gated communities.
You’re heading to a party that you heard about from one of Porter’s friends and the way the police questioned you earlier today is spinning in your head.
“You good?” JJ asks.
You look over at your friend, flattening your lips together. You can never tell the whole truth, but you can offer bits and pieces.
“The cops told me they think I’m the last person who saw Porter before he disappeared,” you say. You can’t bring yourself to tell them the version of the story that includes Rafe yet. They’d never believe you. They’d judge you. “It’s kind of scary to think about.”
“My money’s on that he went on a bender,” JJ says. “Sampled his own product. Maybe even too much of it.”
“You think he overdosed?” you ask.
“More like Rafe offed him,” Pope chimes in.
“Is that what people are saying?” you ask, blood cold, turning back to look at him.
“It’s what I’m saying,” he answers. “The guy’s unhinged.”
You want to defend Rafe. To say he wouldn’t go that far. But it’d be suspicious. And a complete lie.
“It’s a small island,” John B says. “It’s only a matter of time before we find out what happened.”
You hope that’s not true.
·········
You make it to the house, reminding yourself over and over that you have to live as if you believe your own lie. You want to erase that night from your memory. Erase what Porter did to you.
You chug the first drink you can get your hands on. Your friends rib you for how quickly you down it. You blame it on a rough day at work.
Soon after, you’re at the keg, not even close to buzzed yet, but desperately needing to be. Discussing Porter with the cops today, pretending like he was just a dealer you had a few short conversations with, hearing that his family is concerned for his wellbeing made your pulse spike.
Does his family know what a monster he is?
You have to correct yourself.
Was.
“Slow down,” you hear.
Rafe towers over you, his eyes on your cup.
“What?” you shout over the music and conversations surrounding you.
“You’re on your second drink already.”
You look over your shoulder to make sure your friends don’t see you talking with him.
“I don’t even feel anything,” you reply sharply.
It’s a half-truth. Your sadness and anger are weighing heavy on your soul. That vile man took away your power, but you took it back, so you hate that you’re still so rattled by what he did. You just want peace.
“And why are you keeping tabs on me?” you ask.
Rafe stares at you, his lips just slightly parted. He can lie and say he wants to make sure you’re not setting yourself up to get hammered and potentially admit to someone what you did.
But even he’s not that selfish right now. The truth is he can’t stop thinking about you. And he doesn’t like seeing that look on your face, sad and absentminded.
He knows you hate him. He wishes he could hate you back.
“I need to be sure you’re not a liability,” he lies. “And people think we’re friends now, don’t they?”
You look over your shoulder again, anxious the guys will see you. You need privacy if you’re going to continue this conversation.
“Come on,” you say, dipping your hand in his, dragging him through the crowd. His palm is warm and soft and you don’t know what you were expecting, but the way Rafe feels is the opposite of it.
You open the first door you see, stepping into a narrow closet. You shut the door and switch on a light and suddenly he’s standing right over you, all breadth and intimidation.
Your heart races from the way you’d just touched him, from the way he’s just about pressed up against you right now. Something must be short-circuiting in your brain, because the fear you used to hold for him is entirely gone.
The attraction you’ve always felt is overpowering now. You can’t make sense of your own emotions.
“I haven’t told my friends our story,” you confess.
“What?” Rafe snips, his tone low.
“I can’t handle telling them right now, okay?” you say. You cross your arms. “I just said I was with a guy. Telling them that guy was you is… They’ll be so disappointed in me.”
“Disappointed,” he repeats with a scoff.
“Rafe, think back to every encounter you’ve had with us. All you’ve ever done is insult us. I don’t even want to think about how hurt they’ll be to hear I’m friends with you.”
“Who gives a fuck?” he mutters. “We need to make sure our alibi is solid. If the cops find out your friends don’t know we–”
“I’d tell the truth,” you say. “That I was worried about what they’d think.”
“I can’t believe you.” The thought of you being concerned about someone else’s opinion is ridiculous. “Why do you care so much?”
“They’re the only family I have,” you admit. It comes out before you even realize it. You look down, sighing. “You don’t get it. You’re like… an enemy to us. They know how shitty you treat me when I’m at work. Telling them–“
“How the hell do I treat you shitty?” he interrupts.
“I know that those tips are all a degrading show of how you’re so much richer and better than me,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
“It’s not like that.”
“What’s it like, then? Charity?”
Rafe’s jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring. Charity isn’t the right word. He hides behind a forced ego, but he’s always wanted you. And through excessive tips and constant teasing, at least he can talk to you without risking the chance of you rejecting him.
You have him all wrong. He doesn’t think he’s better than you. He’s afraid you’re better than him.
“I’ll tell my friends, okay?” you say when he doesn’t speak. “But I talked to the cops today and they seemed convinced. We’ll be fine.”
“They talked to me, too. I can tell they think it was me.” There’s an almost imperceptible tremble in Rafe's voice. “Everyone thinks it was me.”
“Even your friends?”
“Yeah,” he says. If he can even call them friends. Hearing you call yours family made his jealousy flare. Envy is all Rafe ever feels. Like he’s missing the one thing that deems everyone else loveable.
But he’s hanging on how you said they’re your only family. He doesn’t have a family, either. Not really. Not one that cares about him. Maybe you understand him more than he thought.
“Well…” You clear your throat. “They can believe what they want. You can trust me that I won’t ever tell anyone what really happened.”
“Why?” he finally asks. “Why not just snitch on me, Pogue?”
“Because that night, I told you to do it and you did. The world is a better place without him in it. You did me a favor.” You uncross your arms. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”
Rafe clears his throat, giving in, remembering how you’d saved his life and offering a quiet sorry before he says your name.
It’s the gentlest you’ve ever seen him. It’s a shock to your system. You search his blue eyes in the dim of the closet as if you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to make a snide joke.
But he doesn’t. He just stares at you, his breaths shallow, and you rethink everything you thought you knew about him.
He’s violent and aggressive and condescending. But you don’t see that right now. You see a man who doesn’t seem to be able to believe that someone would want to protect him. Is that who he is behind all the bravado?
The world continues to turn on the other side of the door, music blasting, bass rattling, but time has stopped between you. He’s looking at you through low lids. Like he wants you.
You shouldn’t. Shit is already complicated enough. But what’s one more tangle in the string tying you together?
Your fingers are at the collar of his button-up, pulling him towards you, lips meeting with abandon.
Rafe kisses you back immediately, hungrily leaning into you, cupping your face. His heart is racing. He doesn’t know how or why this is happening, but he wants it so bad that it hurts.
Your mouths part and finally, you taste him against your tongue. It feels so right, like you were always meant to do this and were both too stubborn to.
His hands press tighter against your jaw. Fear floods you. You’re back in that bedroom. You pull back.
“Not so hard,” you say.
“Okay,” he whispers, his grip loosening. He stays hovering over you, nose nudging yours. “Just… please…”
You nod, tilting your head to kiss him again, his hunger for you palpable. You’re with Rafe again, not in that bedroom, but here with a man you want who listens to your wishes.
Your head is swimming with bliss as he kisses you, smelling like cologne and desire, every piece of you wanting him. Then, his hands drift down over the curves of your hips, pulling you flush against him.
And it’s too much. You’re back there again. Begging for it to stop.
“No,” you snap, both hands roughly pushing his chest.
Rafe hits the shelves behind him, his head radiating in pain from how hard he smacked against the wood.
“What the fuck?” he mutters. He was just living in a dream. Why the hell are you pulling him out of it?
“No,” you repeat breathlessly. “You can’t touch me like that.”
“Okay,” he groans. “I won’t. Jesus.”
He clutches the back of his head, wincing.
“I’m sorry,” you say, your throat raw. “I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”
“Why’d you even kiss me?” he says. “Fuck.”
“I’m sorry,” you repeat. You step towards him, trying to meet his eyes. “You can’t… I need you to ask before you touch me like that.”
His lips are glossy from the kiss, his face pinched in pain. You take a risk, gently placing your hands on his cheeks.
Rafe should be angry at you. But goddamn it, your touch feels so good that he melts. His gaze is heavy on yours, both of you breathing deeply, coming down from the sudden outburst.
“I didn’t mean to,” you repeat softly. “Just don’t take me by surprise. I can’t handle it.”
Rafe searches your face, silently asking for an explanation.
You shake your head, not having it in you to answer right now. Your goal tonight was to forget. Not relive. You pull him closer, and thankfully, he lets you.
Your lips are tender after you part, having lost count of how long you’ve been kissing.
Things just got so much more complicated. But you wouldn’t take it back. Not for a second. Nothing else makes sense right now, but having Rafe the way you always secretly wanted him is the one thing that does.
“Don’t fuck me over,” he says, a note of cynicism in his tone as his forehead brushes against yours. “No matter what happens, don’t fuck me over.”
“I won’t,” you promise.
·········
The next morning, you’re walking through the club hall towards the golf course to start your shift. You still can’t get the way Rafe’s mouth felt against yours out of your mind.
He kissed you like he’s been waiting to kiss you for ages. Like he felt lucky that he got to.
You’re about to step through the glass doors leading outside, but the sound of your name makes ice go through your veins. You know that gravelly voice.
You turn to see Detective Brading, his stare intimidating.
“You have a minute to talk?” he says.
You can tell by his tone that it isn’t a question.
to be continued
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cancerian · 2 days ago
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Sorry to OP for the political take, but I will proceed nonetheless.
The statement would make sense if Africans or non- western nations were the sole victim to the imperial/colonial west. The reality is harsh. The reality is that for every person that carries this view, there is another person willing to hold the western world to a high pedestal and relinquish them of their evil (which might seem like what I am doing, but let’s try to keep up and be honest for a few minutes). As nation states (political science term) we must learn to take accountability and learn from how our short coming benefit the “evil oppressor” west. *also when I refer to the west I am referring to the government or political powers.*
Thomas Sankara, Lumumba, and many other unknown leaders would not have met the fate they did had it not been for a selfish fellow country man. Yes, the west infiltrated their nations, but infiltration only works if there is a crack in the group. Belgium, France, and the CIA killed lumumba, but it was made possible by Morocco’s military (read the killing of lumumba) and the black leaders in Congo. In an effort to gain power, they chose to not only kill their fellow countryman (who was seeking peace for the nation), but also help plunge the country into a state of destitution it has never moved away from (argue with your mom, Congo is and will always be the biggest and most ignored humanitarian crisis). The same goes for Sankara, peoples need for power allows them to sacrifice the people of whom they should be advocating for. So, yes, let’s blame the western world for its wrongs, but let’s not act like we don’t have our own short coming that aide in creating the strong western influence in non- western nations.
Now to the point of the post, terrorism and immigration are not threats created and imposed by the western world. Xenophobia transcends borders, South Africa and its xenophobia against other *specifically black* immigrants; if you want to blame someone for your problems you have a large white and Asian populations taking away your resources over there in South Africa. Zambia, has a long history of violence and xenophobia against black immigrants. The list goes on for many other nations. These are not creations of the western world per se, these are a result of a lack of education, accountability, and simply the reality of living in a capitalist society. Placing blame on the west does not take away the fact that nationalism and capitalism breeds hate even in African, Asian, Latino (Hispanic, South American), and many other nations. it's not a western problem, it is a worldly problem. Also how do you argue terrorism? When Nigeria and Kenya have been attacked by terrorist groups, that claim to fight against western values. exactly what western values? women being given partial freedoms (partial because western women are not as free as they are made to look), freedom to an education and therefor a personal income. what freedoms are they fighting exactly? Two things can be true at once, yes the west is an evil super power that creates problems, but so is religious extremism (christianity, islam, Judaism, hinduism, etc.,) that breeds terrorism. These are not fears created or imposed by the west, these are fears of any nation having to interact with other nations. In the name of hating the western world, we end up praising our new oppressors and imperialist (China, Russia, etc.,). Two wrongs don’t make a right.
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xxsquiddkiddxx · 2 days ago
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Heels ~ Viktor x Reader
Pronouns for reader: She/Her
Relationship type: Platonic, romantic feelings, slight enemies to lovers if you unfocus your eyes a bit
General Idea: Viktor used to hate the sound of those damn boots of hers, but now he's grown to find an odd sense of comfort in the noise. Along with... a series of other feelings.
Content Warnings: Fluff, swearing, Viktor being sassy, s1 Viktor, Takes place between S1E3~E4, Viktor's kinda down bad but in a denial way, Viktor also isn't good at realizing he has feelings for the reader, Jayce needs a 32hr nap
A/N: My Viktor headcanons got a LOT more love than I thought they would... so I decided to write some more Viktor XD
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(Nobody's POV, but it's mostly told. through Viktor's thoughts)
~☆~
The lab was pretty much silent. The only sounds heard were the sounds of Viktor tinkering with a Hextech device and the occasional flipping of pages as (Y/N) read some notes that Jayce had written. It was late, definetly past midnight as the two worked.
"(Y/N)," Viktor says, breaking the silence. The girl's head pops up at the sound of her name. "Come here for a second? I need a second pair of hands."
"Be right there." She says, finishing the page she was on. She stands up and walks towards him, the sound of her boots hitting the tile as she walks.
Clack
Click
Clack
Viktor used to hate the sound of her boots. "Those damn boots are so annoying," He had complained to Jayce during the first week of (Y/N) working as a part-time assistant. "Click clack click clack, drives me insane!" He had mocked before sighing.
"Viktor... don't both your boots AND your cane make that noise as well?"Jayce had responded, raising an eyebrow with a teasing smile. This made Viktor at a loss for words.
"Well... It's annoying when she does it!" He had sassed back in response, throwing his hands up in exasperation.
That was 3 years ago. Now, he found a weird sense of comfort in hearing the sound of her boots hit the floor. He couldn't explain why, enjoyment of familiarity maybe?
"What's up?" (Y/N) says, standing behind Viktor. The smell of her perfume was almost overwhelming to him, overloading his senses. Which was weird, seeings as it must've been almost 13 hours since she'd last applied perfume. And that doesn't last long... was he delusional? Or maybe just tired? Whatever. It doesn't matter.
"Yeah, I just need you to hold this in place." Viktor says, not even looking up from what he's doing. He gestures to a little piece of metal he's holding. (Y/N) leans over Viktor and holds the piece in place as requested. The scientist trys his best to ignore the feeling of her closeness and the racing of his heart... holy crap was it warm in here? It must've been. Although it seemed strange to him that it was magically warm in here all of a sudden. This spirals him into a memory, a memory that took place a little less than a week prior to now.
Viktor sat at his desk, for once not to work on Hextech, but to run his hands through his hair and stay deep in thought.
"Viktor?" Jayce asked. "Are you OK? You haven't been as focused as you normally are today. Did something happen?"
"I think... I think there's something genuinely wrong with me." Viktor says. "Like... maybe I'm coming down with something?? I don't know." Viktor stands up, leaning on his cane slightly for support.
"Oh?" Jayce asks, raising an eyebrow. "Could you, uh, possibly elaborate on that?"
"Well, for one everytime Ms.(L/N) comes near me I about have a damn heart attack." Viktor says, his cane clacking softly on the floor as he paces. "Like yesterday, perfect example. She accidently brushed my hand when she was passing me a paper and I actually thought I was dying."
Jayce suppresses a smile, trying not to laugh. Was Viktor really getting THIS worked up... over a little crush? "Oh?" Jayce says, still suppressing a smile. "Is that it?"
"Whenever she's near me, I swear to the gods that I become hyperaware of... like... everything." Viktor says. "Like the room feels warmer, her perfume or her shampoo is ALL I can smell, I'm almost convinced I know every single speckle of color in her eyes... I think I might actually be going crazy." Viktor says, stopping his pacing. "I'm positive. I've actually hit the breaking point and am decending into insanity."
Jayce now can't help but laugh. Maybe it was his lack of sleep from working on Hextech for days on end, maybe it was the seriousness in Viktor's voice about his "decent to madness." Jayce's laughter came out as almost wheezes due to how hard he was laughing.
Viktor throws his hands up in exasperatedness. "Jayce!" Viktor scolds. "This ISN'T funny! There's-"
This just makes Jayce laugh more and more. "Yes it is, Viktor." Jayce manages to say through wheezes. He's holding onto the desk for support as he laughs. It gets to the point where passersby become mildly concerned for the scientist's wellbeing. "I assure you you're not decending to madness."
"Then what the hell is going on????" Viktor exclaims, collapsing into his chair.
"Relax you just have a little crush, it's fine." Jayce says, wiping the tears of laughter away as he tries to steady his breathing.
"Viktor?" The sound of his name snaps him out of the memory. "You good? I think I said your name like five times." (Y/N) says with a chuckle. Viktor shakes his head slightly.
"Uh, yeah. I'm fine." Viktor says, continuing what he was doing. He tried to ignore the slight shake in his hands, the side of his own hand pressed against Ms. (L/N)'s own hand. When he's done. He about throws the screwdriver down. "Thank you for your assistance." Viktor says, the weight off his shoulders earning a little sigh of relief.
"Was that all you needed?" (Y/N) asks.
"I'm pretty sure, yeah." Viktor says. (Y/N) hums in response, walking over to her desk. Click, clack, click, clack. Her boots echo in the room. She grabs her coat and walks towards Viktor again.
"I'm gonna head out then." She says. Click, clack, click, clack. The sound of her boots ring in Viktor's head, a haunting sound that he didn't actually mind having on replay in his brain. "You should too soon." She says, her voice kind and soft.
Viktor's stomach feels like it's about to leap out of his body. Even though it was scientifically impossible, he couldn't help but worry about it. "I will soon." He says, the softness in his voice actually shocking him. Normally he'd just lie out his teeth and sleep in the lab, or not sleep at all. However, when he said that he would... he truly meant it. His eyes move away from the project and to (Y/N). "I'm just gonna finish this little bit up."
(Y/N) smiles, it's tired and small, but it's still a smile nonetheless. Seeing her smile along made the corners of his lips feel like they were moving on their own. He suppresses a smile the best he can, but it still shows on his face. "Goodnight, Viktor." She says, her voice still soft. She didn't speak full volume, and that for some reason made Viktor's heart rate skyrocket.
"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He says, the same tone and volume as (Y/N). She turns and walks out of the room. Click, clack, click, clack. He listens to the sound of her shoes until they completely fade out.
"Relax you just have a little crush, it's fine."
Viktor didn't have a crush on (Y/N)... did he?
~☆~
For more fics: my masterlist
Feel free to request fics!!!
~Squeed
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magics-neptunes-things · 1 day ago
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Love Me Harder
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Hi guys :)
Still working on my WIP! This is a request I got here, so I hope the person asking for it will be happy with what I wrote :)
I'm sorry for the delay by the way.
But please enjoy ♥
TW : Head injury, concussion, jealousy, angst with happy ending.
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Leah and you have been a couple for almost two years now, even if you managed to get it hidden for now. You always had something for the girl to be honest, but when you met Leah, she was already with Jordan and you weren’t really a couple breaker. Sure, it hurts sometimes to see her happy with someone else, but at least she was happy and that’s all that matters for you.
You tried to forget her by sleeping around or having a girlfriend yourself, but nothing really worked. You usually dated people away from the football world, not wanting to mix your professional life with your private life. It happened that you slept with other players though, but never in your team or with them being friends with one of your friends.
With that state of mind, it was hard to find someone to sleep with, but at least you were out of trouble.
Well, that’s what you thought until today.
Leah and you aren’t playing for the same team, she was born at Arsenal while you travel a lot during your career. You started in Manchester City, then you went to Lyon, then to Bayern and since last season you have been back in Manchester City. You like it here and it was easier to live your relationship with Leah that way.
You are together when you are playing for your national team though, you have been the number one goalkeeper of the team for years now. Leah is back from her injury and is now back in national camp too.
Sarina knows that you are together, like all your teammates. The only people who don’t know are the public. You are friends with a lot of Lionesses, so when you are spotted with Leah and some of your friends, no one really puts two and two together. Meado tease you a lot about it, but in reality, you aren’t fan of PDA anyway and so is Leah. Maybe not like you are with your friends, but it’s another discussion.
Back to today, you are playing against Italy for the qualification of the next international championship. After your World Cup and the fact that you weren’t qualified for the Olympics Games, all your team wants to show that you are still here and deserve to win the Euro back in 2022.
You were doing the pitch inspection, casually talking with Lucy and LJ when you heard someone calling your name. Leah, as always, wasn’t far away from you with Keira and Georgia.
“Y/N?”
You turn without really thinking in the direction of the voice, just to be faced with a girl that you actually slept with several months ago. To be honest, it was just before you got in a relationship with Leah. You hate to admit it, but you kind of ghost that poor girl after that, way too happy to finally be with the girl you were in love with.
“Oh, hi Milena” you say nervously.
You even have forgotten that she’s in fact from Italy and you will be facing her today. You can see Lucy exchanging an intrigued look with LJ next to you while the girl keeps walking in your direction.
“I’m happy to see you” she says when she’s in front of you.
You don’t have time to answer before she hugs you and your arms automatically surround her waist to give her back her embrace. If your arms very quickly drop from her body, one of her hands stays in your arm.
You probably never have been so uncomfortable during the rest of your life. You can feel Leah burning gaze on your back.
“How are you? I think we haven't talked for like two years” she laughs.
“Oh, uh. I’m good thanks” you mumble.
“You look good indeed” she smirks.
You deal very badly with cringe, to be honest. So, you are particularly relieved when Lucy passes her arm around your shoulders before talking.
“We have to go back inside” Lucy says, nodding towards the locker room.
In fact, when you look around, you realise that almost all your teammates are already inside. That excuse is perfect after all. You mumble a “See you later” before letting Lucy take you out of the pitch.
Lucy and LJ manage to wait to be out of your ex’s ear before bursting into laughter. You suppose you must be grateful to them for that.
“What was that?” Lauren asks while Lucy is still laughing like crazy.
“Nothing” you roll your eyes.
“She doesn’t look like nothing” Lucy smirks when she can breathe again.
“Be careful with what you say, or Ona will receive a strange text from me, explaining how you find other girls not nothing” you frown.
She suddenly shuts up, her face becoming way more serious. It makes you smile. You never saw Lucy so whipped for a girl before. But you know that your friends deserve an explanation. You sigh softly before starting your explanation.
“It’s a girl I slept with before Leah kissed me at that party, and we got together. I was still in the process of forgetting her. I met that girl before the Euro and well… You know” you shrug. “But then after the semi-finales we got together with Leah, after that she hurt her ACL and I kind of totally forgot that girl.”
LJ hums after your explanation, nodding softly. You can see that your explanation makes sense for both of them which is great because it’s nothing but the truth.
“Leah was boiling” Lucy informs you.
You grimace at this. You were pretty sure that she would react that way. You never realise how Leah can be jealous before being with her. You like it actually, fond of the way she wants to be sure that you are hers and no one can take you away from her.
But here and now aren’t exactly the right place to show her that she is your only one.
You are nervous when you enter the changing room, looking for your girlfriend. You finally see her sitting in Georgia’s cubby. Her eyes are burning when she crosses your gaze after you enter the locker room.
Lucy goes sit on her cubby, just next to yours, while LJ goes on hers too. You want to talk to Leah, but Georgia’s non-verbal language makes you think that you better not approach Leah for now.
That girl is really scary when she wants to.
Keira’s gaze is softer and it’s what makes you walk in their direction. Lucy was right, Leah seems furious.
“Can we talk?” you ask softly when you reach them.
“No” Georgia answers harshly.
“Georgia” Keira sighs.
“Leah?” you try again, trying to cross your girlfriend’s gaze. “Please?”
She sighs and throws the towel she was holding in the cubby while standing up. She doesn’t answer really, but you follow her anyway when she walks to leave the room. You don’t really know where you are going at first, until she turns to enter in a closet.
“What do you want to talk about?” Leah asks harshly just after you close the door.
You are a little bit taken aback. You know what you want to talk about of course, but you don’t know how to start. You are sure that if you say that you know she’s jealous, she will deny it and that it will be the end of the conversation. This is not what you want.
“I just wanted to know if you are okay” you tentatively say.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
She has now her arms crossed and her famous frown on her face. You know how hard it would be to have something from this conversation.
“Because you seem angry”
Leah snorts and looks at the handle of the door. She putted her hands on her hips now and is shaking her head.
“Am I supposed to be happy when my girlfriend is getting flirted with by someone else?”
“No, that is why I wanted to talk to you too. I just…”
“Do you know her?” Leah cuts you.
This time her eyes are deep inside yours and you know that you can’t lie to her. It wasn’t something you wanted to do anyway, but with her eyes scanning your soul, it would have been impossible.
“I… We slept together some time ago” you finally sigh.
“When?”
“Just before the Euros”
You know that Leah knows perfectly that your first kiss happened after the semi-finals against Sweden and the happiness of the victory. You were the first shocked when she kissed you after some naughty dancing, but you kissed her back and the rest of the night probably made her understand very much how much you were fancying her already.
It’s even stronger now, of course.
But Leah is looking at you like she’s going to kill you.
“Don’t look at me like that, Le. I didn't know that several weeks later you would kiss me. I didn’t know you were interested in me at this point.”
You try to take her hand with yours, but she takes it away from you, before opening the door again.
“Well you can go back fucking her in that case”
“Leah!”
She slams the door, almost pinning your fingers inside. When you manage to get outside too, Leah isn’t here anymore. You decide to go back to the training room and try to talk to her again, but when you arrive, Sarina is right behind you, asking you to go training.
You aren’t really concentrating during the training to be honest; you keep looking at Leah, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t even share a look with you when you are right behind her at the beginning of the game.
You really hope that a win will ease her mood and help you to reconcile with Leah. You turn when you feel a tap on your shoulder, turning your bigger frame towards Keira. She just smiles at you, and you nod only. You are too nervous to smile, but you are glad to know that you have at least one of Leah’s friends on your side. You are sure that Leah explained everything to them.
You take a deep breath when it’s time to go on the pitch, trying to focus on the game. The national anthems help you and you keep a straight face when you check all the Italian players, even Milena.
You do your usual check with Lucy too, looking for good luck before starting the game. England is supposed to be the favourites, but Italy is fighting with all their strength. Your forwards manage to have good opportunities, but without being able to score for now.
After the first half, no one scored, and you had to use some of your best moves to avoid taking a goal or two.
You just nod when Sarina congratulates you in the locker room. Leah is still not looking at you, as if you weren’t even here. It creates a strange feeling in your throat. You are happy that Lucy is just next to you, even if she’s not talking, your friend’s presence is good for you.
When the game starts again, you realise with anxiety that Milena and her other teammates change their side, meaning that Leah is the one marking Milena from now.
But Leah manages to take the upper hand on Milena every single time, using with ability her slide tackles. You are happy when Alessia finally manages to score around the seventy minutes.
Five minutes later, Sarina made all the different changes she was planning to, leaving Lucy and Leah in the defence but changing Millie and Maya in the same move. You don’t have a lot of time to get used to that though, because soon Italy won a corner, and you have to focus again on the game.
You can’t really explain what happened. Your eyes were on the ball when the Italian player shot it in the middle of the surface. But the knock you received on your head suddenly makes everything dizzy and you fall on the ground without really realising it.
There is a wheezing and everything else sounds like you were underwater. You feel hands on you, someone slapping your cheek, two fingers looking for your pulse in your neck.
You don’t know if it’s because it’s Leah or if it’s because she’s screaming right above your head, but you hear her distinctly shout
“Don’t fucking touch her! Let her breathe!”
And the panic in her voice finally makes you open your eyes. It’s the same feeling when you are sleepy, and Leah wakes you after you fall asleep in front of a movie to go to bed. Your eyes are heavy, the light is too bright too. You wince and close your eyes almost as soon as you open them, pressing your hand on your head.
“Y/N? Hey Baby, can you hear me?”
Leah’s voice is softer than you ever heard it, and you groan for only an answer. Your head is pounding.
“Can you roll on your back?”
You recognize the voice of one of the people from the medical team. You groan once more and roll on the ground, lying now on your back. You warily open your eyes, thankful that someone is hiding the lights of the pitch with their frame. You frown softly when you realise that it’s Milena
“I’m sorry Y/N, I wasn’t looking where I was going and…”
“It’s okay” Leah cuts her harshly. “She needs to get looked at; can you leave?”
You perfectly see the staff member smile at each other before turning their attention to you again.
They ask you several questions, make you sit, look at their fingers and look at a light too. It’s not an enjoyable experience to be honest, it hurts, and you have trouble staying focused.
“I think it’s a concussion” one of them finally says. “It would be better for you to get out of the pitch.”
“No” you frown. “Sarina made all the substitutions already. I can’t leave.”
“Of course you can” Leah interjects. “No one would blame you. It’s safer like th– “
“Leah. I’m playing.”
Her light blue eyes went right into your eyes. You don’t look away, Leah might be stubborn, but you are too when you really want something. And you want to play, you want to prove to her that she can count on you no matter what. You know you have hurt her and maybe bummed after your revelation earlier. You want to take amend of that.
When she opens her mouth to answer, you look at the medical staff.
“Am I allowed to play?”
They hesitate for several seconds, looking at you silently.
“If I let you play, you have to swear that if you don’t feel good, or dizzy, or tired, you will stop the game and get out of the pitch. Can we make this deal?”
You nod and he nods back, before helping you to get up. You take some water from the bottle he gave you, splashing some of it on your face too. You feel tired to be honest and the lights are killing you. But you are determined to end this game.
“Y/N.”
You turn in Leah’s direction and it’s easy to see the concern in her eyes. You smile softly at her while your teammates and the opposite team are coming back on the pitch.
“I’ll be fine, Leah”
She sighs and you feel her gaze on you when you go back to the goal. You don’t see her or hear her turning to the players around her, telling them not to let anyone come near your goal.
They manage to do it greatly to be honest, and you are glad for it. You have to make some intervention, like grabbing the ball in the air for example. Jumping was fine, but the shock when you fall on the ground is harsh.
When the whistle of the referee finally sounds, signalling the end of the game, you are more relieved than ever. Closing your eyes, you let your tired body sliding along one of the two posts on your goal.
“You’re alright mate?”
You don’t open your eyes but nod at Lucy’s question, feeling her hand on your shoulder without seeing it.
“Do you need help to get up?”
“Please” you mumble.
She makes you stand as easily as you were a 5-year-old child, making you smile softly. You thank Maya with gratefulness when she gives you your things waiting behind the goal and slowly make your way to the locker room.
You look around to see where Leah is, which isn’t missed by Beth who is walking on your other side.
“She’s answering some questions for the TV” the blonde informs you.
You groan and drink more water, still walking. Pretty slowly, you must admit. But you feel dizzy, and you sigh internally when you see Milena running in your direction.
“Hey” she says, with her Italian accent. “Look, I'm very sorry. How are you feeling?”
“I’ll be okay, don’t worry” you answer with a soft smile. “I’ll need some rest tonight and maybe tomorrow, but other than that it’s okay.”
You watch her bite her lips, like if she’s thinking about something to say. And how to say it. You really hope that she won’t ask you out now, because you don’t have the energy to deal with it right now.
“Can I write to you tomorrow? To know how you are feeling. I really feel very guilty”
You were going to answer something, but you were interrupted by an arm sneaking around your waist and a body suddenly pressed against yours.
“She will post an update on her Instagram tomorrow. And don’t worry for her, she’s between great hands” Leah says, before looking at you. “Are you okay to leave, Babe?”
You repress a smile and take a small breath.
“Yeah, let’s go. See you”
You give a smile to Milena, who you feel sorry for. You know that she never meant to hurt you, but Leah seems to take her for the only responsible of the accident.
“You know that I wasn’t looking either?” you mumble to Leah.
“It doesn’t matter. Sarina told me we can leave now; the staff asked for a taxi so we don’t have to wait on anyone. Would you like to shower in your hotel room rather than here?”
“Sounds good” you mumble again.
In a record time, Leah manages to take all your things and put them in your two bags, change herself in a training suit and help you to do the same. You are starting to feel tired and dozens in the cab on Leah’s shoulder.
“Baby you have to wake up. I can’t carry you in your room” Leah whispers when you are in front of the hotel, gently kissing your temple.
Usually, you love the fact that you are higher than Leah. You love how she easily fits in your arms, how you can hold her and feel like you are protecting her from everything and everyone.
But right now, you really would love for her to be able to carry you.
She does a bit though, holding you firmly against her while you are going to the lift and then to your room. You let yourself fall on the bed when you arrive inside your room, letting Leah deal with your bags and everything else.
“Come on Baby, we have to wash the game out of you. Then you can go in bed until the staff members come again”
“I just want to sleep” you groan.
“I know. But you will feel better.”
You do feel better, Leah is right. She helps you to take your shower, affectionately dry you with a towel after, help you to put fresh pajamas on and then even brush your teeth and your hair.
She then takes a quick shower too and it’s with wet hair and in one of your t-shirts that she opens the door of your room for the staff. The t-shirt easily covers her smaller frame, the tissue going until her knees.
They make some more tests on you, asking several questions to Leah too. You have trouble staying focused, but only because you are very tired. You don’t hear them leaving, opening your eyes again when you feel the bed move when Leah crawls on it.
“Are you sure you’re not in pain?”
You hum, snuggling against her warm body. They gave you some morphine earlier anyway. Leah lets you do it and you sigh happily when she starts to stroke your neck with her fingers.
“I’m sorry for the way I reacted because of your ex”
Leah’s whisper takes you by surprise. You probably almost never heard Leah saying that she was sorry for something so serious. Opening your eyes again, you search hers.
“I’m sorry for the way you learned it” you whisper back. “But it has nothing to do with you. It was before knowing you could be in any way interested in me. I was still in my “Forgetting Leah” era”
Leah chuckles and you smile hearing that sound. You close your eyes again, the tiredness being more and more hard to fight against.
“I’m glad you never managed to get over me” Leah says after some silence, playing with your hair.
“I will never be able to get over you”
You feel like your voice is low and your words aren’t very well articulated, but Leah seems to understand very easily what you are saying.
“I was hoping to” Leah mumbles too. “Now sleep, you little menace.”
You groan softly once again, making Leah smile. You happily let her kiss your face several times, finishing with your lips. You manage to whisper that you love her and it seems to you that Leah say it back, but you are not really sure. Because you are already asleep then.
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punkkture · 1 day ago
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how i view simon riley
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for a second, let’s just forget everything about him that actually is true and let me lie . . .
simon riley is 6’5” and is chubby with hella muscle underneath. hes got a lot of tattoos covering his arms and hands, and one on his torso thats battered with scars. i like to think he has dark brown hair, its just my type okay? his eyelashes are sooo long and his hands are always washed, he hates having dirty hands.
simon is a good leader, he kind of has to be. he is an amazing man when it comes to his job and his teammates, but when he gets home, thats the only chance he has to just let go. there isnt some persona he has to put on when hes home. his temper gets the best of him sometimes and hes lwk toxic asf.
“baby c’mon you know i didnt mean to, ‘m sorry” — “dont be dumb sweetie you know im busy right now, go somewhere else and leave me alone” — “stop acting like this, im tired of you right now”
but he will always come to bed with you. always kiss you goodnight. always fixes the covers back over you when he gets up in the morning. its not his fault that he just has some anger issues he never got over when he was a kid. simon is either a big teddy bear or a stone wall. hes hard to read on most days but his tone will always give it away. mf has an awful tone problem when hes having a bad day. simon’s words are often harsh when hes having a bad day but his physical nature says the complete opposite.
“just shut up baby, you sound so stupid” he’d groan at you, but at the same time he’d pull you closer into him, kneading your soft skin in his hands gently. as if he is always apologizing after every mean phrase that comes out from those parted lips. and when that hurt whine comes from your lips hes already ‘shh’-ing you and rubbing your side.
my simon riley is infatuated with his sweetheart being all dolled up and dumbed down. he loves himself a stupid dumb girl that just cant do anything by herself. of course he knows hes needed for work, but simon has never felt needed outside of his job title. even if he’d never admit it without some emotional talks, he could cry over the fact that you need him. that something as precious and pure as you needs a man as rough and battered as him. he knows deep down youre not a stupid girl, youre bright and just curious, as he likes to put it. he loves being able to explain simple things to you, loves that you call him because you forget how to turn the oven fan off and how to cut a mango. hes so thankful that hes not needed for life or death situations with you like he constantly is for work.
my simon riley is obsessed with the idea of getting you pregnant. he is a sucker for breeding. when hes left alone in thought he always, without a doubt, thinks about you having his babies and forever being in his life. he just knows you’d be such a good mom. you are the only person he can even picture caring for his own. your sweet and kind nature on the daily shows how maternal you are and it just makes that soft spot in his heart swell and get bigger every time he pictures it. hes also smitten with your waist line. oh god dont even get the man started on your back dimples and the curves of your hips. simon’s lips are always on your abdomen and tummy.
“gonna have my babies in here one day sweetie, youre gonna look so pretty all knocked up” he mumbles in between warm open-mouth kisses right under your belly button. his heavy fingers digging into the dips of your back as he pulls you inexplicably closer to him.
he really is such a sensitive man under all that scar tissue and bulky muscle. in my head simon is an april taurus sun, pisces moon, and rising gemini. so basically, the taurus in him showcases he has a very rough exterior that is great at displaying leadership and grounding skills, but the pisces on the inside makes him sensitive and he has a lot of emotions, then the gemini in him makes him come across as independent and deceitful at first. i could go on forever about this mans astrology chart.
simon riley who always brags about you to his friends. he’s very careful with talking about you at work though. he would most definitely set the world on fire if anything bad happened to his sweet angel girl. when he’s back from deployment, out at some shitty pub with johnny . . he can’t keep his lips sealed about you.
“i know ‘m gonna marry that girl. i know it, gonna give her my last name and at least four kids . . you wanna know what she made for dinner when i got home from the last deployment?” he rambles to poor soap who just wanted to get out of his apartment.
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 2 days ago
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Steve was lying on the floor of Robin's room, his back against the wall as he let Robin paint his toenails while he flipped through one of her magazines. The radio played softly in the background.
"I am totally new to having a girlfriend, and by girlfriend, I mean platonic girlfriend," Robin said.
"Well, that's one thing we got in common, I don't think I've ever had a girl who's just a friend," Steve said.
"What about Perkins?" Robin asked.
"She doesn't count, I hated her. She's the reason Tommy became such an asshole," Steve said.
"Hm, yeah," Robin said and paused. "So, how close were you and Tommy?"
"Well, we were friends since we were eight. We pretty much bonded over the fact that we both had assholes for fathers. We shared everything and told each other everything. He told me about his first crush, and I told him about my first crush. We practiced kissing, practiced having sex, and when I got first kiss, I told him immediately," Steve said.
"Woah, woah, woah! Back it up!" Robin exclaimed, and she closed the nail polish. "What the fuck do you mean you practiced kissing and having sex with Tommy Hagan?"
"Exactly what it means," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "We hadn't gotten girlfriends yet, and we wanted to get good before we did. It doesn't mean anything. We like women, so it didn't count."
"It still counts!" Robin shrieked. "Did you or did you not put your lips on Tommy's?"
"Yeah, and I also let Tommy put his dick in my ass. I was basically his pillow," Steve said as he continued to casually flip through the magazine. "It doesn't count if you're not gay, Robin."
"It doesn't work like that! Steve Harrington, the first time you had sex was with Tommy Hagan!" Robin exclaimed.
"It was not!" Steve exclaimed, throwing down the magazine.
"Was too!" She yelled.
"Was not!" Steve yelled.
"Okay! So, let's say if I kissed you right now. . .," Robin said.
"Wouldn't count as your first kiss, you're a lesbian and I'm straight," Steve said.
Robin grinned, a manic look in her eye. She pulled her hand back and slapped Steve across the face. He screamed.
"Didn't count! I'm a lesbian and you're straight!" Robin yelled.
"Okay, okay, I see your point. Jesus, did you have to hit me so hard?" Steve asked, rubbing his red cheek.
"Yeah, dingus, I did," Robin said.
"Okay, so my first kiss was with Tommy, and I lost my virginity. We're not gay, though," Steve said.
"No, just desperate and very horny teenagers, apparently," Robin rolled her eyes. "I can't believe you had gay sex before me, and you're not even gay. I bet you pictured some blond with big boobies."
"Well, no, actually," Steve shrugged.
"Hm, what do you mean?" Robin asked.
"I didn't have to picture a woman. I liked it," Steve shrugged.
"You liked it?!" Robin asked.
"Well, I am a man, Robin," Steve said.
"Uh, except not every man likes it when another man rams it up his asshole," Robin said. "Okay, I kind of wish I had been more delicate about this, but I didn't know this was you being in denial kind of situation."
"I'm straight, Robin, I like women," Steve said.
"Yeah, and did you know that you can like men and women?" Robin asked.
"What?" Steve asked.
Robin smiled and got up to pull out a box from underneath her bed. She pulled out a magazine and tossed it at Steve.
"Read it, study it, learn from it," Robin said.
Steve looked at it quizzically for a moment before opening it. He stared at it for the longest time before finally closing it.
"I am an idiot," Steve said.
"No, you're not. You just didn't know," she said softly.
"Bisexual," Steve whispered, and then he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh my god, this whole time, I thought I lost my virginity to Chrissy Cunningham."
"Chrissy Cunningham?" Robin asked.
"Uh, we used to hang out all the time before she started dating Jason Carver," Steve said. "Our parents ran in the same circles."
"Well, you know, I guess you could say you lost your guy virginity to Tommy Hagan and your girl virginity to Chrissy Cunningham," Robin said.
"Yeah, that's true," Steve grinned. "Thanks, Robin, and especially thank you for giving me that slap. I definitely needed it."
"Anytime that you want me to hit you, I'm your woman," Robin replied.
They moved towards Robin's window sill and sat on it, opening a window to get some fresh air.
"You know this means that I'm not straight," Steve said.
"Something else we have in common," she said.
"You ever wonder how many out there who are like me and who just don't know?" he asked as he looked up at the moon. "Here in Hawkins, I mean."
"Probably a lot more than we think," Robin said. "And they're out there, sitting in their closets wondering if they're ever going escape themselves or be rescued."
"Isn't crazy how we found ourselves?" Steve said.
"Maybe queer people just end up finding each other," Robin said.
"Well, maybe they'll find their way out themselves," Steve said and then he looked her, hazel eyes twinkling in the moonlight. "Seriously, Robin, thank you."
"You did that yourself, you know, you just needed a nudge. I mean, you could have told me to go fuck myself and continued to live in denial," Robin said. "You're a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for."
Steve smiled bashfully and glanced back at the moon. He looked at her, with tears in his eyes.
"Is it possible to be platonically in love with someone?" he asked.
"I think anything is possible," she said. "I think it's a definite because I know that I'm absolutely, platonically in love with you."
They dangled their feet out the window and leaned against each other, Steve resting his head on top of Robin's.
"I wish I'd known you sooner," he whispered.
"I wish I'd known you sooner, too," she whispered back.
They were here now, though, and absolutely nothing could get in between them.
Part Two
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mapiforpresident · 2 days ago
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hi there could i please request promt 16 with leah williamson
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First Fight
Leah x reader
~~~
You had been dating Leah Williamson for about six months now. It had been everything you had imagined—fun, easy, and full of laughter. Both of you were incredibly busy with Arsenal’s season, training schedules, and matches, but you always made time for each other. You’d spend evenings together, whether it was after a tough match, over dinner, or simply lying in bed talking about everything and nothing.
But today... today was different.
It started as something small—a misunderstanding. The kind of thing that could’ve been resolved with a quick conversation. But somewhere along the way, things escalated. Tensions flared, words were exchanged, and before you knew it, you were both storming out of the room, frustrated and hurt. You hated fighting. You had never fought with Leah before. You had always been on the same page, whether it was on the field or in life, but today was different.
You were sitting on your couch now, alone in your apartment, your head buried in your hands as you replayed the argument in your mind. You hated how it ended. You didn’t want to fight with Leah. You just wanted to fix things, to understand each other better.
You had barely heard the knock on the door. The sound was soft at first, but then more insistent, and it made your heart race. You stood up quickly, your mind racing with possibilities. Could it be Leah? You didn’t know if you were ready to face her yet.
When you opened the door, there she was—Leah, standing in the hallway with a nervous expression on her face, holding a bouquet of your flowers. The soft lilacs, pale pink roses, and delicate white lilies were a perfect match to her concerned expression.
“Hi,” Leah said quietly, her voice soft, almost hesitant. She shifted on her feet, the bouquet in her hands looking out of place. She didn’t seem to know whether she should step in or wait for you to say something.
You took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. But the sight of her standing there, so vulnerable and sorry, made something in your chest ache.
“I’m sorry,” Leah continued, her voice growing steadier. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I never meant to hurt you.” She held out the flowers to you, her face sincere but tinged with sadness. “I wanted to apologize. I'm really sorry babe.”
You took the flowers, feeling the weight of the moment settle between you. They were beautiful. Exactly what you needed—calming and gentle. You looked at Leah, seeing the slight tremble in her hands, the way her eyes searched yours for reassurance.
“I’m sorry too,” you finally said, your voice small. “I don’t know how it got so bad. I hate that we fought. I hate that I made you feel like... like you weren’t heard.” You could feel your throat tighten as you spoke, the emotions you had been holding back finally spilling out. “I didn’t mean for things to go like this.”
Leah stepped forward, closing the distance between you. Her hand gently cupped your face, and she leaned in to kiss you on the forehead. “I know you didn’t,” she whispered, her thumb brushing across your cheek. “I just... I let my frustrations get the better of me. You’re the most important person in my life, and I don’t ever want us to fight like that again.”
You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. The warmth of her touch, the sincerity in her words—it all melted the tension that had been sitting in your chest. You pulled her closer, wrapping your arms around her in a tight hug, feeling the softness of her hoodie against your skin.
“I hate fighting with you, Leah,” you said softly, your voice muffled by her shoulder. “I don’t want to argue like that again.”
Leah hugged you tighter, her fingers gently stroking your back. “Me neither,” she replied, her voice filled with emotion. “But we’ll figure it out. We always do. And I promise, I’ll work on listening better, being more patient.” She pulled back slightly, looking you in the eye. “I just want to be with you. And I want to keep making us work.”
A small smile tugged at your lips, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. “I want that too.”
Leah’s smile softened, her eyes twinkling with that warmth you had come to love. She placed a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for a moment as if to reassure both of you that everything would be okay.
“I love you,” Leah said quietly, resting her forehead against yours.
You closed your eyes, the words coming easily now. “I love you too.”
You stood there for a while, just holding each other. The bouquet of flowers had been forgotten, left gently on the table, and everything felt right again. The fight, the misunderstandings—it all seemed so small now.
Finally, Leah broke the silence with a light laugh. “I’m glad you like the flowers. I was afraid I’d mess that part up.”
You laughed too, pulling away just enough to look at her. “I love them. They’re perfect.”
Leah smiled softly. “Good,” she said, taking your hand in hers. “And next time... let’s just talk things out before we get to the yelling part?”
You nodded, feeling the weight of the argument lifting off your shoulders. “Deal.”
As you closed the door behind you both and went to sit on the couch, Leah rested her head on your shoulder. Everything felt right again.
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jaggedamethyst · 2 days ago
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bucky barnes and his physical media
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pairing: bucky x reader, use of she and girl once or twice
content: bucky is obsessed with physical media, especially photos…but he hates being in them. you try to change that.
notes: minors dni, slight smut but it’s honestly pretty tame here, some obligatory bucky angst. i don’t believe in proofreading I fear.
word count: 1.8k
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆   。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
Growing up Bucky quickly gained a fondness for cameras. He loved to capture the images of those he loved--moments in time for which he could always look back on when he missed them.
He considered himself a confident guy and took said pictures at any opportunity he was given. He figured someone would always want to look at a face that perfect, if he could say so himself.
It was different, though, when the reflected images no longer were of the young man so keen on going to war. When the moment in time was one that could only elicit one of fear. He couldn’t recognize himself these days, not after being the Winter Soldier. The man was now adamant about not having memories that preserved him as he was now. Not when he was a shell of the man he’d known years ago.
If he absolutely had to take pictures, he was even more sure it would never be on a fucking phone. Not only are they the most fickle objects imaginable, he also hated the damn cloud. He wasn’t entirely prehistoric; he understood when people said that it was a way to store things…but a cloud. He’d had one too many mishaps with technology that things randomly disappearing from the cloud was not too far fetched in his mind. If he had to preserve something special to him it would absolutely be in an album. An album was tangible, and if it came to it, he could easily grab the stack of them in a hurry.
Physical media was absolutely near and dear to him. Whenever an old show was nowhere to be found, he clung to his DVD sets like a lifeline. The same could be said of his photo albums. They quickly became a way for him to reclaim some of the power he felt was lost with his mind. But taking pictures and storing them, to him, was therapeutic.
That's how he ended up with several albums on his shelf. Some were miscellaneous, ones that had yet to be sorted. Others solely for pictures of nature that he found calming to look at.
Nothing compared to the album he had of you, though.
An inadvertent smile would always creep up on his lips when his eyes met the spine of your album. Just the sight of your name sprawled in his handwriting was enough to make him feel warm inside. Inside were photos of you, some candid, others posed. He hated pictures, but for you he would at least attempt to stomach the feeling .
He flipped through the pages as he always did, feeling sort of proud he’d managed to take such great snapshots in time..and even more that he preserved them without the damn cloud.
Bucky made note to add more to this album; it wasn’t nearly as full as he’d like. With that, he swiftly closed the album—a gust of air causing one photo to fly out of the book. He grabbed the print that lay at his feet, not thinking much of it other than it would be returned to its rightful place among the other portraits of his girl.
As he flipped the picture, a heat quickly spread across the man’s cheeks. Oh. He definitely was not expecting this.
A selfie. Yes, that’s what it’s called. He’d learned that word a while ago. Somewhere in time he also learned that while people could be “in the nude,” they’d also referred to risqué photos similarly. Yes, a nude was how he would describe this one.
The man had seen many works of art in his day. Some of which were dedicated to his friend for his accomplishments in war. Others, of objects, like how Bucky would leisurely snap a photograph of a bird sitting stoic in a tree.
None of that compared to the polaroid he’d laid eyes on right now. His thoughts reeled in his mind, observing every detail. He knew it was hard to capture yourself in frame with these print cameras—no clear indication of what was in focus. But you were skillful.
The sun cascaded over your body, highlighting your skin in a way he’d never seen. He couldn’t see your face above your lips, but they curled in a way that seemed purposeful. How he’d do anything to see your eyes reflect the light of the sun that day. He slowly placed a finger on the photo, tracing the curve of your neck…your shoulder…your fingers.
No. He mentally groaned. The curl in your lips, a smirk, made sense now. You’d covered yourself where he wanted to see most. Hands crossed over your chest but your skin remained bare, teasing him. He felt so disgusted with himself even thinking this way, wanting to see more. It’s not like he hadn’t already, but in this moment the taunting imagery drove him up a wall.
He’s not sure when exactly he’d sat down on the couch or when his pants got to be pooled at his ankles. He’s even less certain of what time it is, but your footsteps approaching his door bought him back to reality. You’re off work.
The now strained fabric of his pants irritated him. Not only did your nude leave him extremely worked up, but he didn’t even finish before you got back.
Your voice resounded from the door, “Buck! I left the key, can you open up?”
“Coming!” He froze, an audible huff leaving his nostrils at the poorly timed reply.
He placed the photo in his back pocket before stalking towards the door.
With a swift swing, the door opened to your smile on the other side. Unlike the mischievous smirk that was printed in the picture in his pocket, this one was borderline affable. He let out what could only be described a a mixture between a scoff and chuckle.
You quirked a brow, “um, what's funny?” You rounded the space left by Bucky’s shoulders, making your way towards the kitchen.
“Nothing,” Bucky replied with a hint of sarcasm, “just had a bit of a weird day.”
“Really?” You turned to start the faucet, washing your hands before looking for something to drink. “You…wanna talk about it?”
The man felt his chest continue to rise and fall at an erratic pace. As the water continued to trickle he became painfully aware of the situation in his jeans at the present. Fuck it.
He reached for his pocket, quickly whipping the film towards your back.
He tried to level his voice in an attempt at asking his next question in the most nonchalant way he could muster. “Baby…what’s this?”
You craned your head away from the faucet a bit, “huh?” Grasping a towel, you slowly turned towards the sound of Bucky’s voice. “What’s wha- oh-”
An obvious shock appeared on your face but had he not looked close enough he would have missed it. The shift to an indifferent facial expression perplexed the man--even more when you replied in a chipper tone.
“Oh! I just got this new camera the other day at the store.” You moved past him, turning the corner and heading down the hall towards the junk closet you guys kept. He followed your movement with his eyes, stuck in place with pure intrigue. The distance and scrambling left your voice low to his ear. “You wanna see it? It's so cool and it wasn't too expensive!”
He moved back towards the couch, slouching a bit. “Sure, baby.”
Bucky twisted his head at the sound of you walking, no skipping, back towards the living room. “This thing is so easy to use, Buck. I feel like a pro like you.”
“I am not a pro,” he mumbled, his hand meeting his forehead.
He felt a hand on him, brushing his hair back. The nudge forcing him to lift his head to meet your eye. You’d knelt on the floor in front of him.
“I,” you planted a kiss on his cheek, “think you are amazing at taking pictures.” A pause loomed in the air, “but I wanted to do something for you…show you can be a great subject too.”
You placed a finger on his shoulder, urging him to lay back. “You should get comfortable, Buck…because this,” you gingerly plucked the photo from his grasp “is just the first installment to an amazing collection I think we will have.”
Bucky absolutely needed to work on his recollection skills—his ability to focus too. He again found himself with his pants down and no idea of how he’d come to be that way. This time, a cool breeze swept against his chest—his shirt somehow flung across the room. He absolutely did not mind, though.
The way in which you seemed to be skilled at everything truly blew his mind. With only a hand pumping him up and down, slowly at that, he’d found himself writhing against you. Whispers fell on deaf ears, as he’d quickly become overstimulated from his lack of release before.
“I- I-,” he stumbled as he usually did with you. There was no time when you were together when he didn’t feel at a loss for words. But here, with himself dripping all over your hands, your eyes looking at him expectantly, and your gentle lips grazing against his skin—he was struggling to even say more than one syllable.
You assured him, “it's okay, I know.” Simple words, but enough to make his insides tingle.
“Fuck…please,” he uttered your name. “I can’t-“
Your soft hands grasped his face again, a silent request for his eye contact.
It was so unfair, he knew that she knew that’d be his weakness. As quickly as it started, Bucky would finally finish. A feeling of euphoria and relief rushed the man, his skin prickly and glossed over with sweat.
“This is perfect,” he lowered his head a bit to see you back on your knees, this time holding your hands up. An arched brow raised on his face once more…you could be so damn elusive sometimes. At a further look, he could see you there, one eye closed. He searched between your hands, they were making L shapes in the air.
“Actually perfection,” you said with a flourish of your fingers. You leaned back, grasping your camera from the coffee table. “Now, be good James and don’t ruin my work.”
“I don’t know what you mean-“
Your finger met his skin, softly mixing in with the wetness now drenching his lower abdomen. He felt you marking a shape into the puddle—a heart?
Before he could even register, a flash. You’d taken a photo.
“Like I said, perfection.”
You left the polaroid beside the other on the coffee table, planting a kiss on the man's lips this time.
Bucky’s smile creeped up on his face, a happiness enveloping him.
“I think we need a new album.”
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magicisrealandsoismyally · 7 hours ago
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Okay, thought we were being like, chill, but I guess that's a kindness only afforded to people you consider to be women, so I'm gonna break this down piece by piece here, a lot to address.
"purposely obtuse or intellectually dishonest"
right off the bat the fact I disagree with you means I'm being intentionally wrong and evil. There's no room for me to be misguided, or making mistakes, or being uninformed, I'm either playing stupid or lying. Got it.
I "either hate AFABs, or don't take harm against them seriously". Once again, another false dichotomy. I take harm against women incredibly seriously, I just don't think the biggest threat to women is trans women. I think we have the same enemies, conservative men in power. I said you were fueled by fear because I was trying to be nice. It's not just fear. It's anger. Misdirected anger. You, and many others, have decided the easiest thing to do is hate.
Yeah. It is in fact transphobic to demand sex segregated spaces given that a true biological sex isn't fucking real. That's why it's "Assigned male at birth" or "Assigned female at birth". I've been assigned a lot of things throughout my life. So have you. Are you going to tell me those assignments were always accurate? I mean hell, with the amount of cis people out there, their accuracy rate is definitely above 50%. Still not accurate tho.
Transphobia is both the people trying to murder us, and the people, who don't want us in spaces that are away from the people trying to murder us. You are aware that the same cis men wanna kill us both right? You've arbitrarily drawn a line in the sand because you are grossly misunderstanding how trans people work. The number one piece of advice I see on this site from transfems, is how to avoid being SAed. By cis men, by cis women, by trans men. It's so common, that it makes me question if I even want to be in spaces with y'all. You wanna talk about fear? I'm fucking terrified. All the time. The instant I come out to the world, I get to spend the rest of my life, knowing that at any moment, someone says anything negative about me? and my life is over. Because people like you, will believe them. Because the scary transfem must be the person oppressing you. Because its easy, to villainize the minority. And it's easy to decide he's a monster. And all the while, she loses everything just for being an easy target.
You wanna talk physical safety? 83% of genderqueer victims of fatal violence are trans women. People love to kill us.
AMAB privilege is not real. I was not socialized male. I think you have a perspective on how the patriarchy functions that hasn't seen the other side of the fence, so let me go ahead and elaborate on that. Being a Man, is something you can fail out of in the patriarchy. It's a club that is nigh impossible to enter, but really fucking easy to fail out. Under the patriarchy, I am not a man. I failed out of that shit at the age of 8 when I said I didn't like sports. When I did anything "girlie" at all. When I cried. I was a crybaby (according to my family) and a faggot (according to the other kids at school). And from that moment, I was a target. Always have been. I wasn't socialized male, I was socialized as a failed man. Most trans girls are treated that way from a young age. I did not benefit from the patriarchy I was shoved around. I have gotten into an absurd amount of fights that I never started because some fucking asshole decided to beat the shit out of the fag. I spent like a week on tumblr before hearing other shared experiences about this kinda thing. Literally not hard to talk to trans women about this stuff if you, yk, try.
"We don’t need to check genitals I would have no problem with the manliest most masculine most passing trans man in an afab space because no matter what hormones or surgery are involved they cannot rape and impregnate me with their penis the same way an AMAB person could."
How do you know he's trans. How. Tell me right now how you tell the difference between a cis man and a trans man with bottom surgery. Do that without being transphobic, please. Find a way. I'm looking for something hilarious to read today, it's been a long one. Because if you don't have a way, your entire transmisogynistic utopia falls apart here. You can't tell if someone is trans. It's about identity. You cannot tell if someone has a penis. No matter what you do. You cannot tell someone's assigned gender at birth.
And how wonderful, you mentioned prisons, just read about this one. Did you know when transfems are imprisoned they get placed with the most violent cellmates? It's a tactic to reduce prison violence. Give the most violent people their own live in target. They get called prison wives. It's called V-Coding. So yeah, prisons are messed up. For both of us. If only we could talk about that and unite to fix that oh wait that's literally the whole point of having transfems in feminist spaces, crazy how that works.
"Also trans AMAB people commit sex crimes at an even higher rate than cis AMAB people"
WHERE IS THE FUCKING SOURCE. I am tired of TMEs and their constant stream of libel demonizing trans women. All of your nonsense statistics is so fucking stupid. Where are you getting these numbers? The sex offenders list? The one that as recently in the 80s included anyone who crossdressed or hit on a person of the same gender even if they were reciprocating? I literally have heard cis lesbians complain about that shit on this site, you're not even being a feminist by citing sex crimes, you're being a cop. Fucking being trans counted as being a sex criminal for most of American history. Drag queens, trans women, and crossdressers get accused of sex crimes all the fucking time, you have no critical thinking god fucking damn.
"which again did not START segregated they became that way because AMAB people could t be trusted not to rape/assault AFAB ones"
Yeah no lmao, (this next paragraph is going to be USAmerican centric because yk, that's what I learned about growing up) they kicked literally all queer people out when women got the right to vote, both lesbians and bi-women had to fight their way back into these spaces in the decades prior. I feel like we forgot about the Ellen Show or smth? Like feminists did not fucking go to bat for her after she came out. Groups will turn on their supporters the instant they decide they don't need them. Mainstream Feminism turned on people of color and queer people who put their own movements on hold to support the women's right to vote so fucking fast. It's American history too, all I had to do to learn this was have a pulse in my US history class.
Also “capitalism is real because it impacts me in a negative way but all other forms of oppression where I might be considered the privileged one in the dynamic is just hysterical people distracting from capitalism”
Girl, reading comprehension, try it out for size. I did not say these systems of oppression are not real. I'm saying demonization and fear of minorities (like, yk, trans women) is a tool of the existing power systems to make you hate us and not your actual enemy, the people in power (like, yk, rich people who are usually cis white conservative men). You keep bringing up how awful existing systems like prisons are but you just, do not analyze who fucking set those systems up. Private prisons are owned by the rich, not by the trans woman you're yelling at who is 4 bad days away from giving up and killing herself.
If trans AMAB people don’t want to be housed with cis ones, they can do the legwork and create those spaces for themselves like AFAB people did they do NOT have the right to commandeer our movement and literally erase our rights and protections because not allowing AMAB people into these vulnerable spaces might give them the big sad.
Okay so first you tell me feminist spaces weren't originally segregated by sex, and now you tell me it's an AFAB only movement? Because I know for a fact trans people have always been at bat for feminism. American white women said the same shit to women of color between 1920-1965. Cause the instant we become expendable, y'all throw us aside.
commandeer our movement
Really? Do you genuinely think trans women could ever outnumber cis women? What cartoon candyville are you from where there are more trans women than cis women? How the fuck are we going to commandeer the movement? We're like, 0.3% of the population at most. What are you talking about.
YEAH MY GUY IM FORCED TO LIVE LIKE A FUCKING PREY ANIMAL!!!
Okay so for starters, transwomen are also in constant fear. We have literally been hunted, this is just, like, a historical thing. Second, I'm not a guy. Don't call me that. You cannot honestly tell me you're not transphobic and then proceed to use exclusively masc terms to refer to me. That's just wild. Playing along with the tranny does not make you not a trans ally. You're still a transphobe just cause you're fine with trans men.
Some fear is completely rational
Yeah. We're both completely justified in our fear. I do not build my politics off my fear. You do. That's the difference. No matter how terrified I am of TMEs, I still fight for y'all. Always have, always will.
Gender is literally fake and varies from culture to culture. Sex based oppression is real and fucks over the lives of AFAB people worldwide.
Ohh, damn, so close, you'll get it next time I'm sure. See the trick is BOTH OF SEX AND GENDER ARE FAKE. Genderqueer people just admit that it's about self expression. You literally just described how fallible sex assignment is by talking about intersex people, it's like, hella cultural. Sex based oppression is real. So is Gender based oppression. Because people are shitty about fake shit, all the time, we're on tumblr, the "death threats over shipping" website.
You cannot tell me you think you're not transphobic and then claim gender oppression isn't real. I feel bad for any trans people who have the misfortune to interact with you. I hope one day you realize you fought on the wrong side of history. And if not? I hope they speak of you in the same breath as the grown adults trying to stop Ruby Bridges from attending school, in the same breath as the cops at Stonewall. You have an excellent day. I probably won't, but what's new. I'm sorry you're so afraid. I'm sorry you fell for it when they told you who to be afraid of. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. If anyone wants sources on this stuff, i'll add links to posts getting into it, a lot of it's screenshots and i'm not about to make this any longer than it is. There's more ofc, but I can only cite what links I have on hand, y'all can do your own research, read like, any transfem blog while they still exist. https://www.tumblr.com/honeylemony/767694258735136768?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/marxism-transgenderism/767536279224270848/okay-ive-said-before-that-part-of-why https://www.tumblr.com/girldogmystic/766813723287502848/i-wanna-get-more-specific-with-this-according-to
"OP is a terf" is a thought-terminating cliche meant to keep you from questioning the status quo and keep you afraid of being labeled a heretic should you come to your own conclusions about anything.
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kousanosgf · 2 days ago
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men, minors dni
councilor!sevika x assistant!reader headcanons
**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚ getting together ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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i have too many thoughts about miss councilor sevika (⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠)
◗  they get on each other's nervs at first. sevika is still too new for her position and the need to prove herself to the most of the council drives her insane, cause those fucks are hella dense. so she's constantly on the edge, trying to wiggle between mentally fighting for her people on the meetings and actually taking part in rebuilding of zaun. and sometimes (or a lot of times) sevika sees reader as just another nuisances and a person who's ready to judge her just because she's not from piltover
◗  reader on the other hand just can't comprehend sevika's nature. she was raised and worked for years in a more "higher context culture" if you can call it so, so she's shoked how straight to the point sevika is, often taking it as nothing but rudeness. reader also can't say much to sevika, since she can't make herself speak up, taught to be respecrful and obedient to her supiriors, leaving a lot of space to passive aggression
◗   they're taking all the first places in the misunderstanding and miscommunication competition
◗  sevika hates how reader is set on the formal speech with her. "stop calling me councilor" "that's who you are" "yeah but you don't have to say it in every sentence, you sound like some wind-up toy" "okay, ma'am, I'll take you wish into account".
◗  she realises that reader calling her "ma'am" is worse but not for the same reasons
◗   their relationship is very much about learning and understanding each other and those around you. mostly for reader, cause she was brought up with a mindset of zaunites being someone lesser. and even though she follows etiquette, trying to be polite and serve as a perfect assistant, cause her whole life she dreamed of working with someone who changes other people's lifes, or even being that person, she can be judgmental towards sevika, refusing to see her point of view properly
◗   eventually they get closer and more comfortable with each other, which means reader drops her nice formal persona with her passive aggressiveness, and they actually menage to solve more problems while arguing and letting the steam out than just walking around on eggshells for days
◗   that's when sevika starts fall for reader. it's like reader's mask slipped and she can finally see a real person and not a workaholic machine. she loves how both sassy and caring reader can be. their fights now end in laughter and omg they also can say sorry to each other
◗   sevika insists on brining reader to any important event, where plus one is required. because reader helps her monitor her actions and gives helpful insides of other participants of course, not because she just wants to spend time with her, definitely not
◗  and reader is oblivious™. she's so happy, she finally doesn't hate her work and her and sevika can even be called friends, she doesn't notice any move sevika makes, simply thinking it's nothing but platonic gestures
◗   eventually she snaps. "are you straight?" "what?" "i asked around, and people said you're into women. did they lie?" "n-no" "then what?" "what what?" "if it's just me you don't like you could've said so"
◗   reader is of course shocked. she has to take couple of days off, embarrassed with how blind she was and to think the situation through
◗   next time they meet reader refuses sevika, saying it's not right to have a romantic involvement with any colleague, especially not with your boss. sevika understands and agrees
◗   well actually she doesn't. a compliment here, a touch there. sevika does nothing too provocative so reader can't say she's acting improper. but she's just playing a long game
◗   and yes, it works. months of teasing ruins poor reader's morals. flustered and very much horny she tugs sevika into a kiss on just a normal tuesday in councilor's office
◗ they may or may not have sex right there they definitely do
—————————————————————————
kay, a bit messy. definitely gonna do part two or a full drubble with them later
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gojos-version · 1 day ago
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Consume me.
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Pairings- Y/N x Mafia Au! Sukuna
Summary- You're the daughter of a famous mafia boss and your dad wants to cooperate with Sukuna and make a deal, you hate Sukuna. You’re about to make his life a living hell.
Warnings- y/n being bratty and a bad bitch, brat taming, unprotected sex, breeding, tummy bulge (per usual), masturbation, blood and death mentioned (not in detail or much)
Word count- 8k
Proof read- ✅
A/n- Omg this took me so long because ive been so busy and i knew it was gonna be such a long fic, but i hope this tickles your pickle :3 Have a lovely day and i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3
⋆ ✩°。⋆ 𖦹。˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ⊰⊱ ✩°。⋆ 𖦹。˚ ⋆
Sukuna. That name brought fear to many people. He was a well-known Mafia boss, he lived by his rules, he didn't like something? It was fixed immediately. He doesn't like someone, or someone messes up? They’re dead. He’s a very fierce man and its risky that even right now your father wants to make a deal with him, to get more respect he says. 
Sukuna was the one person you had the least respect for, he was cruel and heartless, and you'd prefer to avoid him at all costs if you could. His face was covered in tattoos and so was the rest of his body, he had piercings and honestly he was intimidating. But… he also made you feel things you shouldn’t be feeling. Maybe it was the way he carried himself that you found attractive? You weren’t sure but you hate him. Your dad was a big mafia boss but not as big as Sukuna, his business was huge.
Knock knock.
Your head perks up from your book; “Yes?”, your dad’s assistant opens the door; “Your father requests to speak with you.”, “Alright I’ll be down.” With that she nods her head and closes the door. You sigh and twist your body to slide off your bed, slipping your slippers on you open the door and walk down the stairs to your dad’s office. You knock on the door and he shouts a ‘Come in!’ And you do, when you open the door you did not except to see a tall man with pink hair, tattoos and in a black suit sitting in front of your dad.
Sukuna?? Why the fuck was he here. Your heart drops and you swallow thickly, he shoots you a smirk that makes your blood boils. “What is it that you wanted, father?”, “Take a seat, I want to talk to you about a few things. Including our guest, don’t be rude, Y/n.”, “I don’t see why we have to discuss things in front of our guest. Wouldn’t that be unprofessional?” You cross your arms, leaning back on the door. “Oh don’t mind me.” Sukunas deep voice rings out and you glare at him, “Who said you were apart of this conversation?”, “Ohhoho! Quite the mouth on you!” He laughs, leaning back in his chair and your dad’s expression becomes stern, “Y/n. What did I say.”, your eye twitches with annoyance and you scoff; “I’d rather talk in private, dad.”
Your dad sighs in annoyance and Sukuna grins, laying back more in his chair. “Like I said, don’t mind me sweetheart.” You huff, “Let me guess, we’re working with Sukuna now?”, “Yes, so I hope you’ll be nice a- “, “Greatttttt!” You say with fake enthusiasm, and you see Sukuna's jaw clench. Ha. Y/n 1 Sukuna 0. You turn to walk out and freeze feeling a strong presence behind you and a large hand on your shoulder, “Listen brat, you don’t want to piss me off. If you keep provoking me, I can and I will destroy your father’s corporation. You don’t want that now do you?”, Sukuna's deep voice whispers into your ear and you shiver.
“Of course you would, you have no heart. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re a robot. You wouldn’t do shit to us.” You sneered back, yeah it was risky but how dare a man try to speak you down and threaten you? Excuse him?? Sukuna chuckles darkly, “A robot huh? Li- “, “Y/n apologize to our guest right now.” Your dad cuts Sukuna off (without knowing what he was saying), saying nothing you shrug off Sukuna's shoulder and open the door, shutting it harshly behind you and going back to your room.
You lay on your bed staring at the ceiling and sighing softly. You really hope Sukuna isn’t around much. You were hoping to avoid him as much as possible, any interaction with him made your blood boil and your thighs squish together. You hated him and you hated how he made your body tingle. You hated how turned on you got by his stupid face and how curious you were of him. You wanted more, you wanted to know more, why was he stoic? What’s really under that tough demeanor? That heartless man. Why was he heartless? You ached to know more but you couldn’t fucking stand him. You really didn’t like him. No matter what your body felt you really really didn’t like him.
Ding!
A text message? From who?
Dad <3 - Y/n, Sukuna will be around a lot, so you better behave and be nice. He’s doing good for us, I expect to hear that you apologized before tonight, no arguments.
You grunt and close your phone, turning to your side. Maybe you’ll go out tonight. Yeah. That's a good idea. You send a message to your group chat asking to hang out at a bar and before you know it they reply with a “Let’s get shitfaced girls!”, you chuckle and slide off your bed; to your wardrobe. You could be sexy, slutty or modest. You hum to yourself; it wouldn’t hurt to be a mix of sexy and slutty tonight. It’d be nice to get laid; especially after today. You decide on a dark red dress, it stopped mid-thigh and showed just the right amount of cleavage and hugged your curves juustt right. You slip on a black leather jacket, tights and black boots, opting for a red bag to balance it out. You do your hair and makeup and smile at the mirror. You felt good. You looked good.
As you open the door and walk down the steps you did not expect Sukuna to still be here. At the dining table??? You try to sneak past them; hoping they wouldn’t notice you. “And where might you be going?” A dark voice rings out. That annoying deep voice. That belonged to that stupid pink haired man with tattoos. “It’s none of your business I’m afraid.” You reply coolly, “Y/n. I told you to be nice.” Your dad scolds, “Dad, I’m going out.” Your dad glares at you and you simply walk off, tired of the conversation; you ignore the loud shouts of your name and sigh as you walk out the door. You drag your feet into your car, telling your driver where to take you.
You swallow thickly and bundle your skirt into your clenched hands, sighing in frustration. You pick your phone up to see your best friend; Shoko calling you. "Shoko! Hey girl.", "Y/n how far are you?? Please, Satoru's annoying me." She whines into the phone, and you bark out a laugh; "I just left. Dad was being difficult. I should be there very soon." You reassure her and she grumbles a 'Hurry up before I kill him' before hanging up.
You smile in contentment lean your head against the window; looking out in the distance while your driver takes you to the bar. You honestly thought it'd be just the 'girls' but it seems Satoru and Suguru weaved their way into yours, Shoko and Utahime's plans. more company the better honestly.
Before you know it, the cars stopped Infront of the club; "Miss do you want me to escort you?", your driver asks and you shake your head; "It's alright, I'll message you if I need anything and when I want to be picked up." Thats the last thing you say before sliding out of the car and feeling the cool air kiss your warm skin.
Ouch the weather wasn't as nice as you thought it was. You sling your bag over your shoulder and walk into the club, instantly the smell of sweat, lust and alcohol fill your senses. Yeah, you're definitely going to need a drink. As you walk towards the bar you instantly spot Shoko, Utahime and Satoru drunk off their minds dancing around and Suguru sitting on the bar and drinking.
"Long time no see." You greet sitting next to him, "You finally made it. These idiots got drunk so quickly.", "I can tell. How have you been though, Suguru?" You say as you order a drink, leaning your back against the counter and crossing a leg over the other having your elbows resting on the counter behind you.
"Not too bad, it's been hectic because works been stressful.", "Thats rough, work sucks." You sympathize; "How about you? Any life updates?" He asks laughing softly at the others dancing their asses off. Man, it was going to be a long night. "Terrible. My dad made a deal with Sukuna and for some reason he's around my house. a lot.", Suguru almost spits out his drink in surprise, "Shit what!? You're kidding.", "I wish I was. doesn't help he keeps talking to me too." You sip your drink, frowning at the memory.
"Doesn't... Sukuna like not talk to his client's kids or anything? Doesn't he just keep it strict and just talk to let's say just your dad in this situation. Usually, he stays at his own abode too." He ponders and your blood runs cold. wait. he's right. "Wait why would he be interested in me...? How the fuck do I get out of this mess? Shit Suguru what do I do." You panic and scull your drink.
"Don't worry, I think it's a good thing he's taken a liking to you. if he didn't, he'd probably would've killed you already." He reassures you and sigh. "I don't even want to be involved with him." Suguru nods his head in understanding, before he could respond though a drunk Shoko and Satoru run over to you; having finally noticed your arrival.
"You're here!!! Girl, I've missed you!!" Shoko exclaims, a bit too loudly for your liking and throws her arms around you; practically sitting on your lap. "Y/N!! Hi!!!!!!" Well. that makes both Satoru and Shoko smothering you. "Hey guys, kind of can't breathe right now with both of you squishing me." You laugh out but nevertheless hug them back.
"What tookkk you sooo loonnggg!" Satoru slurs out taking his drink from before and sculling the entire thing. "Girl shit." You respond, "You do not need to drink more." Suguru scolds taking the now empty glass away from him and Satoru pouts and complains in response.
"Giirrrllll any new news???? Any dick you're getting???" Shoko slurs in your ear; still over you. "I'll tell you when you're sober, girl", "NO tell me noooowwwwww", you sigh knowing she won't give up. "Dad made a deal with Sukuna." as soon as those words left your mouth she jumps back in shock and falls on the ground.
"Are you ok-", "NO WAY THE SUKUNA???", "Shhhh!!!" Thank God everyone was too drunk to give a shit. You help her up and drown another drink. you really want to get shitfaced tonight.
Few drinks later <3
You don't know when you started dancing with a random guy. you don't know who he is or what his name is. all you know is everything's blurry and dizzy and you're having the best time of your life. Your arms wrap around his neck and your lips are a bit too close to his. He slurs something drunkenly and you faintly make out the words must've been a 'you're so beautiful'. Your lips unconsciously lean towards his, both of you breathing heavily against each other. Before he can lean in and take your lips on his, a loud bang! fills your ears. wait. Where did his head go?
You look down at your clothes and they're covered in... blood...? What...? You freeze as everyone around you starts screaming and running out of the club, the guys now limp headless body falls at your feet, and you don't know how to react. when it all processes you feel adrenaline rush through your veins.
Where are your friends? You shakily walk towards the exit and see a familiar pink hair, tattooed tall man. Wait a minute... is that...? You blink a few times and he's gone. "Y/n!! Are you okay??" You feel Suguru's hand on your shoulder, you turn to him and see Shoko and Satoru hanging off him, Utahime was hanging off of Shoko.
You wordlessly nod your head and your drivers here? Didn't you say you'd text him when you're ready?? You open the door and motion for Suguru to put the others in the car, you help him put your friends in the backseats. You sit in the front seat next to your driver; "I didn't tell you to pick me up. But please take my friends to their houses." You manage to utter out.
He nods and the car starts going on its journey. You can't stop thinking that murder had to have been from Sukuna. but why? Why would he murder the guy you were dancing with. Why did he even care?? A "Miss, drink some water to sober up." Cuts you out of your thoughts. It was hard to focus on everything with how much alcohol you took in. But you drank as much water as you could. After drinking your water, you head rests against the head rest, and you shut your eyes briefly.
Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You blearily blink your eyes open, trying to adjust to the sunlight pouring through your room. What time was it? How did you end up...in your bed...? Maybe your driver put you in your bed. You shrug it off and slowly sit up. Fuck your head hurt. You didn't have enough water in time. Your head was throbbing as you turned your head to look at your nightstand. Water and pain killers? I mean that's thoughtful, but no one really does that for you. then again you don't usually pass out in the car.
You took the painkillers and drank the water, putting your slippers on and robe as you slowly made your way towards the door. You just realized. someone was murdered in front of you yesterday. Wait when the fuck were you in your PJ's? And the blood from your face and body is gone??
Your heart races for a minute and you try to shrug it off as maybe you didn't remember getting changed or one of the female maids did it for you while you were sleeping. Right...? You open the door and slowly make your way down the steps towards the kitchen. Coffee. And water. Thats what you need right now. you fixed your hair and by the time you reached the bottom of the stairs; There was your dad and of course Sukuna. Sukuna. Why was he here?
"Mornin' Princess, Woke up late today, huh?" Ugh that stupid annoying deep voice. it fills your head, and you ignore him, walking past him and filling a cup of water, drowning it and filling it up again. "Y/n. I told you not to be ru-", "Nah its fine. She looks hungover.", "So that's where she went huh."
Come on brain. Remember. Right, Pink hair and tattoos and a dead guy. Yep. Common duo. "Sukuna, you did that last night, didn't you?" You deadpan, turning around and leaning your lower back against the counter, water in your hand, sipping and waiting for a response.
He looks shocked for a split second but covers it up quickly, "Oh? Where?" His head leans to the side giving you a look of 'I dare you to continue'. You smirk, walking closer to him. "The man you murdered at the club. Infront of me. What was that about, hm? Got jealous I gave someone else my attention and not you?" You dad stays silent, flabbergasted and oh Sukuna just glares at you.
"Why would I be jealous?", "You're not denying you murdered a guy at the club last night." You slam your hand down in front of him on the table and lean your face close to his, and your breasts right in his field of view. His eyes flicker from them to your face a few times, "You just happened to distract my target.", "Oh? I did a background check on the people at the club on my way there. He was a normal citizen." Your face gets closer to his and you're smirking, eyes narrowed as you egg him on.
Fuck does he look pissed off right now. But...there's another emotion you can see in his eyes, but you can't pinpoint it. Is it surprise? Intrigue? Lust? Who knows. You had him cornered both physically and mentally right now and he honestly had no option but to confess.
"Come on Ryomen. Give us the truth." You whisper in his ear, "You-" He seethes, and you cut him off by barking out a loud laugh, his hands were gripping the arm rests of his seat. How amusing. Without another word you trot off with a slight sway in your hips. You could feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head while you did walk off.
Time skip <3
You're laying on your bed listening to music while writing in your diary, ranting about Sukuna and other random things. It's 9pm before you know it. Maybe you'll just stay in tonight and have a self-care day. yeah. that sounds pretty good. you shut your diary and shove it under your pillow, going to the bathroom and running a bath.
You get your necessities and sit on the sink while the bath fills up. What you didn't know however was that Sukuna went in your room, wanting to give you a rough talking to; to find you not in your room. He hums and looks around, taking it in. your pillow messily placed catches his eyes and he lifts it to see your diary.
His brows furrow as he opens the book. 'Maybe she writes stories or draws? Why do I even care.' As he flicks through it, he sees his name written. hm? What's this? A smirk makes way on his face as he takes your diary and leaves your room, making sure everything was as you left it.
You sink into the bath you set and shut your eyes at the warm sensation. what should you do about him? There's no way he has to be over this much for a business deal. Maybe you're overthinking it too much. You sigh softly and shut your eyes, enjoying your soak in the bath. Hopefully tomorrow you'll be given a job to do.
Time skip <3
Your eyes flutter open and it's still dark outside? You twist your body and slide off the bed, slipping your robe on and your slippers. 5:30am. Great. You walk towards the kitchen and notice someone…sitting? On the table with their feet up?? Who on earth was up at this time of night???? When you get a bit closer you notice the familiar pink hair and tattoos. Ugh. Why the hell was Sukuna here and awake at 5 in the damn morning. “Why are you here at 5 in the morning?” Your soft voice rings out making him look up from what he was reading. “Why are you up at 5 in the morning?” He sasses back and your eye twitches in frustration. “I live here, and you don’t. Why are you here at 5 in the morning, Sukuna.”, “Ouch back to Sukuna huh?” And oh, you wish you could wipe that stupid smirk off his stupid face.
“Answer the question.” You say with a blank expression and sit across him. He sits forward and puts the book next to him, leaning his chin on his palm. Why did that book look so familiar? “Because your dad needs me, so I decided I’ll be staying here a while.”, “What book are you reading?” You ask, your heart rate picking up because it looked a lot like your handwriting. No wonder why your pillow felt too comfortable. He stands up and makes his way behind your seat, leaning next to your left ear. “You think I’m so hot, huh? You even want me to dick you down, yet you act like you hate me.” His hand snakes slowly around your neck, applying some pressure and you gasp. “You want me to choke your pretty throat huh?” His hand snakes up to your chin and his thumb strokes your cheek.
“That was private.” You grumble out, panting softly. “Oh? Yet you’re such a little fucking slut. Thought you could fool me hm?” Your hand snaps out and grabs his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. Still holding his wrist, you stand up and turn to face him, with your free hand you grip his face and mush his cheeks together. “You're too bold. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been watching me when you think I’m not watching. Or my used panties that have slowly been going missing. You’re not slick, Ryomen.” His eyes narrow and you laugh. “And you call me the slut. You’re the perv around here.”
He snarls and you walk away from him turning the coffee machine on. Your hands grip the counter when you feel his half hard cock push against your ass. “What are you- “, “Shut up. You’re such a fucking brat.” He pushes your head down and you grunt when your cheek makes contact with the cold counter. “C’mon doll you know you fuckin’ want me.” You smirk having an idea come into your head. Without saying anything you grind your ass against his clothed cock which is now hard and fuck you can feel how hard it is. You circle your hips, and he lets out a grunt in response.
You move your robe up exposing your now soaked panties, rubbing against his soaked pants for more friction. You wiggle your ass, teasing him. “Come on big boy. Do something, can’t leave a girl hanging now, can you?” You press harder against him and a breathy whimper escapes his lips. “You…” Fuck his voice sounds so raspy and you’re clenching around nothing. One of his hands shakily squeeze your ass and fuck right now you want him to fuck the living shit out of you. No. Y/n. You wanted him to be the one begging for you remember? You wanted him to be so down bad for you he’d go insane. Fuck this isn't good. You shiver slightly when your cunt makes a honeyed gush of wet arousal ruining your panties further. You feel his thick thumb run up and down on your clothed, soaked slit making goosebumps erupt all over you in response.
“Fuck…” he moans, “You’re so fucking soaked.”, and finally he removes his hand off your head. Both of his thumbs make contact with your slit through your panties and his thumbs sink into your hole, spreading you open through your panties and the moan he lets out? Worth it. You muffle your own moans behind your mouth with watery eyes. You stand up and pull away from him, grabbing his arms and pinning him to the counter. “What a naughty boy you are.” You tsk, “Already trying to fuck me before taking me to dinner? Chivalry is dead.”
You release his arms and grab a mug, pouring yourself coffee, desperately trying to distract yourself from how fucking wet you felt. You notice how he stays quiet, his eyes following your figure with every move you make. “What's got you so quiet, hm?”, You look over at him and notice a…blush? Covering his cheeks and ears? Now that was a rare sight. “I-uh- “He cuts himself off and storms off. What was that about?? You shrug it off and sit at the table. Of course, your diary was gone. Fuck your panties were clinging onto your soppy cunt. You quickly drown the rest of your coffee and head to your room.
You slip your now completely soaked panties off and grab your vibrator from under your bed, sitting on your bed you lay on your back and spread your legs; circling the toy up and down your leaking slit and clit, repeating the motion a few times. You slowly sink the toy into your needy cunt and line up the clit sucking part of the vibrator onto your clit. Turning it on makes you sigh in relief as the vibrations ease your neediness.
You moan softly as you move the bottom part of the vibrator in and out of your hole, your free hand fondling your tits, squeezing and pinching your hard nipples. Your legs shake as you get closer and closer to your impending orgasm, your moans increasing as you move the toy faster, the vibrations and the heat from the vibrator making your head roll back into your pillow. You gasp wildly as your walls clamp around it, making your body tingle. You felt the knot in your tummy tighten as you cum hard around it, your walls spasming around your vibrator. fuck. you never come this quickly.
Shit. You still felt so turned on. You continue thrusting the toy in and out of you making your toes curl. You needed more. You needed Sukuna. You needed him so deep inside of you. Focusing on your own pleasure you couldn't hear Sukuna fisting himself with his ear to your door, your used panties over his nose as he inhales your scent. Hs entire body felt like it was on fire, burning with need while he pumped his cock imagining it was your wet, sopping cunt instead. Shit he felt so close, his thighs and abbs tensing in response as he cums harshly all over his hand and arm, his free hand muffling his mouth to not let any pathetic noises escape. Sukuna doesn't come that quickly. Not usually. He breathes heavily listening to your wet squelches and moans through the door. He wanted you so badly it hurt so much.
You’re not sure how much times you’ve cummed now, but you have a feeling Sukuna’s behind your door. For a while now you’ve been making sure your sounds are extra loud for him. Your body aches as you pull your now dead vibrator out of you, with shaky legs you slip your robe on and go into your bathroom, washing it and running yourself a bath. You put your vibrator on charge, hiding it and opening your door. You find nothing there but a large wet spot. You laugh to yourself knowing he was cumming hard to your sounds.
You shut your door and shrug your robe off, lighting a candle and sinking into the bath as you think of what to do. It’s around 7:40am now. “Y/n! I’ve got a job for you today!” Your dad’s voice sounds out, “I’ll send you the details!”, “Okay!” You yell out and smile. Finally, some action around here.
Time skip <3
You just finished your job. It was easy honestly but it’s raining and your new gown you got for the job has bloodstains. Oh well. If it’s washed properly, it shouldn’t be a problem. You’re waiting for your driver to come but… it feels like he’s late. Or maybe you’re being impatient? Ring ring! Ring ring! You look down at your phone, a call from…Sukuna? Why him? You sigh and answer, “What do you want.”, “where are you? Give me your coordinates. Now.”, you send him your location; “Why? What’s wrong?”, “Enemies of mine are looking for you. Your dad’s safe with me. If your driver or car shows up do not enter the vehicle, if anything hide till I get to you.”, “What do you mean enemies? What the fucks going on, Ryomen?” You stop talking when you notice your car. Your drivers car. Pull up in front of you. You stand still, motionless waiting for their first move.
“Y/n? Fucking answer me!”, You hang up the phone call, with your free hand you slowly snake your hand behind you, going up your thigh and grabbing your gun and throwing knives. Adrenaline floods through your veins when the car honks its horn. Your driver never honks the horn at you. With a beat of silence your eyes focus on the guns in the back aiming at you. Fuck. If you’re not quick, you’ll end up dead in about 2 seconds. Your eyes flit to your bag on the ground next to you. Perfect. You drop your phone onto your bag and run, hiding behind the tree near the entrance, with a quick motion you aim and blow the tires of the car. These fuckers aren’t leaving here alive.
You grab your throwing knives and wait. The people in the car shooting wildly now have the windows broken, and perfectly open for you. Idiots. You smirk and throw 2 knives hitting both of the people in the front seat in the head, instantly killing them.
Fuck. Now probably like 4 people in the back. Great. How long is Sukuna going to take? You hide behind the tree. Why does your mind keep travelling back to him? Those stupid tattoos. Those stupid piercings and his stupid pink hair. That stupid smirk he always gives you. Your heart rate picks up, why can’t you focus? You try to force yourself to focus on the dire situation at hand right now but the way he pressed your cock against you this morning. His thick hands...shit.
Why are you thinking of Sukuna? Sukuna… Sukuna.. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna.
Time skip <3
Your eyes flutter open, taking in the familiar tattoos and pink hair. Sukuna. “Took you long enough.” His voice fills your head, and you blink confusedly at him. “Huh? What happened?”, you go to sit up, but he puts a hand to your chest and keeps you from moving. "I came as quick as I could. They didn't touch you. They've been dealt with so do not worry." Without saying anything, both your hands grip his face and pull him closer to you. "What are y-", "Why are you in my head so much. it's like you're possessing me. What do you want from me, Ryomen Sukuna. Why did you have to come into my life." Your nails dig into his cheeks. His eyes widen in shock and... confusion?
Before he could respond you're out cold and he's left to think about what you said.
A few weeks later <3
It's been a few weeks since you've seen Sukuna. You've asked your dad where he went, and he said he has his own business to do. You couldn't find him anywhere, not even on any tracker or through anyone. it's like he left without a trace.
It's cold tonight. You look out the balcony and ignore the chilling cold breeze. It was a nice night tonight. The sounds of the night and traffic fill your ears and head leaving you to your thoughts. Maybe he'll come back? Pink hair...stupid tattoos...
"Didn't miss me too much now did you?" That deep voice. That familiar deep voice sounds through your ears, and you turn around so quick you almost fell over. Pink hair. Stupid tattoos.
"Where have you been? It's been weeks. What were you doing?" You question, watching as he comes closer to you. He was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His hand makes contact with your cheek, cupping it softly. Being soft wasn't Sukuna's style. You look into his eyes and see him frowning in thought. Sukuna disappeared for a while ever since you said you can't get him off your mind and here he was out of no where. He had some time to himself to reflect and try to get his feelings in check back to being heartless and cold. That didn't work. He couldn't stand anymore time away from you.
"It was not my intention to worry you." He thumbs your bottom lip, making your heart speed up. He looked at you like you were the only person in the entire world. You notice his gaze fixed on your lips and your eyes can't help but flit to his plush lips too. Your hands come up and cup both of his cheeks, pulling him closer to you. "What were you doing? Why'd you leave without saying anything?", You demand. "Thought you hated me, princess.", "Shut up. "
The air around the two of you is thick, the both of you staring at each other's lips and heavy breathing, his hand on your cheek and both of yours cupping his face. Before you could blink Sukuna smashes his lips onto yours, his soft lips engulfing yours.
His tongue explores your mouth, shoving your tongue under his as he licks the cervices of your mouth, occasionally wrapping his tongue around yours. Your whimpers are swallowed up by his mouth greedily devouring yours.
Your arms wrap around his neck and pull his body flush with yours; his hands move down to your waist and grip harshly. He moves you impossibly closer to him, his hands now gripping your ass. Fuck your entire body feels like it's been lit on fire, electricity courses through your veins like small sparks exploding throughout your body continuously.
Your lungs burn from the lack of air, but you don't want to stop. Not when you feel so good, not when you finally had Sukuna. He breathily pulls away from your lips, “Jump.” He orders, you comply and jump and wrap your legs around his waist. You start nipping at his neck while he carries you to your bed, softly placing you down and hovering on top of you. He looked so fucking good in his black suit. The rings he was wearing was doing things to you; you never thought you would feel from something so simple.
“Consume me.” You say softly, his eyes take you in, puffy lips, your nightgown haphazardly on you, your thighs squishing together and your hair disheveled. You were looking at him like you were going to explode if he didn’t touch you right now. He laughs and opens your robe, “Nothing underneath? What a slut. Did you know I was going to see you tonight?”, “Just a hunch.” your fingers were itching to grab him and pull him on you, but you fought the urge to. Wordlessly, his lips meet yours again; his tongue mapping out your entire mouth while his hands make contact with your breasts. He squishes them making the both of you moan into each other's mouths.
"Want me to consume you, huh?" He laughs, putting pressure as his hands trail down slowly from your breasts down to your belly button. "Possess me. I haven't been able to think of anyone or anything else besides you till you came into my life. You own me, Ryomen." With that you see a feral glint in his eyes as he shreds his blazer and top off, revealing...tattoos on his upper arms..chest..oh fuck. your cunt gushes out a wave of wetness pathetically making your slick drip down your thighs and onto the bed bellow you- making a wet spot.
"I can't fuckin wait. Waited long enough, brat. Can't say things like that and get away with it." He gruffs out and shreds his lower half bare. Thigh tattoos too? Fuck you think you just combusted right then and there. He pushes your thighs to your chest as he bites and sucks on your neck making you mewl in response. "Please. I need you so bad, please." You beg out, you don't even know what you're begging for at this point. For him to fuck you? Bite you? Him in general? Not even you know the answer. Maybe it was all.
He lines his cock in front of your entrance, and he rubs his leaky tip against your slit up to bumping your clit which makes you clench around nothing in response. His repeats the action a few times till he couldn't handle feeling your walls twitching against him any longer.
He sinks half of his hard cock inside of your sopping pussy, "it's all in." he lies, fuck it was so much. "F-fuck you're so t-thick" you manage to whimper out as he thrusts half of his dick in. You don't know its half but fuck it had your toes curling. "S-suk-una-! A-angh!!" you cry out and he buries his head in your neck and bites hard.
You gasp wildly and moan at the sensation because when Sukuna bites, he bites hard. He keeps your legs pinned to your chest and he finally thrusts the rest of his thick length inside of you making your walls clamp wildly and a shocked expression take over on your face, your eyes widening as you struggle to catch your breath. "W-what-! A-ah! Angh! K-kuna-!" And that fucker laughs at you. He starts ramming his stupidly big cock with harsh force making your eyes roll back and drool seep out of your agape mouth. "Yeah, that's it, fuckin take it." he grunts. The aroma of the candles you had lit and the open balcony with Sukuna fucking you stupid stimulated you and your mind so much to the point you felt like you were going to go insane.
He sits up and wraps a hand around your neck, his thumb putting just the right amount of pressure on the column of your neck, rubbing his thumb up and down. Your walls convulse against him making him moan out in surprise. You make a mental note to do that more often. Without warning his hips somehow move faster and his free hand roughly grabs your tit, pinching your nipple. Fuck you couldn't even move, all you could do was just take it.
Your hands fly to his shoulders when the hand that was on your tit trails down to your stomach, his hips were smack into yours with need that made your entire body jerk up, his hand on your neck being the only thing to stabilize you. His cock was bruising your cervix with each harsh slap of his hips against yours, you could literally feel his mushroomed tip trying to rip through your stomach.
It was like his dick was trying to make a hole through your stomach so it could say hello to you. Fuck the bulge he was causing made you shake and wither around him and when he noticed it? That only made him go crazier. "Fuck..." his lips part and he lets out a low breaths grunt, "Fucking that's it." that's the last thing you blearily hear before your face is in the pillows and your ass in the air.
When the fuck did he flip us over? You don't have time to think before he drives his cock back inside of you and his thrusts are merciless. His hands grip the globes of your ass cheeks, and he spreads them harshly, exposing your tight ass hole. The cold air makes you shiver, and you almost feel your consciousness slipping. You didn't notice the tears streaming down your face because the only thing you could focus on was his dick rearranging your guts.
Your body feels like it's on fire, your senses full of him. Sukuna was all you could feel. All you could smell. All you could see, his image planted in your mind like it meant to be. It's like you could feel his entire soul.
His thumb circles your ass, hell his fucking thumb is bigger than your ass's hole. The hand that's not on your ass grabs your hair and pulks your face up. He leans over your body; basically, squishing it and presses his nose to your neck, "I have to fucking consume you. You know your little hole? Yeah? 'M going to make that mine too." Fuck you could die right now.
You try to speak but all that come out of your mouth is stuttered desperate gasps of breaths and choked moans, you claw desperately at the sheets and try to crawl away, his cock now half inside of you when you feel your body have a fire sensation spread throughout it.
"T-too m-much- angh!! " You manage to whimper out and oh does he look pissed off. One arm wraps around your shoulders and the other grips your waist and slides you back all the way down to the hilt of his cock. "You're not escaping me." He gruffs out and presses on the bulge in your stomach while he desperately yet sloppily slaps his hips into yours.
The knot in your tummy snaps and you don't cum, no, you squirt so hard all over his tummy, pelvis and thighs to the point your mouth was agape in a silent scream, your eyes clamp shut and you see pure white. "F-fuck-shit-y/n-" Sukuna moans out while he fills you up so much.
Your head felt dizzy, your body trembling into the mattress, you feel his surprisingly still hard cock slip out of you; his cum slowly dribbling out of you. "Don't think we're done, brat. Not after how much you pissed me off with your attitude.", You feel your heart drop. What. You weren't done? A rush of adrenaline rushes through your veins and you freeze when you feel his thick hands spread the globes of your ass cheeks.
"Told you, 'M gonna fuckin' consume you.", His gruff voice rings out and he runs his finger along your puffy, soaked folds- collecting the slick to lube your ass up. Once your holes wet enough, he slides a thick finger in, and you hear him laugh from how greedily your hole sucks his finger up. "N-not- funny-!" You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and you shove your head in the pillow bellow you. It felt like a weird sensation. "Mm lets see if you can take another one.", Before you can react, he sinks in another finger inside of you making you mewl out in response.
He chuckles darkly before sliding in another finger- 3 fingers in total- and you felt like you were going to explode. With a slosh and a pop! he removes his fingers, and you shiver in response. "'Kuna- You don't have to-", "Zip it." You bite your lip when you feel his fat tip make contact with your hole.
Fuck it was too much. Without warning he slowly sinks his length into your tiny hole, shoving your head further into the pillow while you whimpered and moaned wildly. You hear him gasp and he lets a whimper slip out when he's all the way to the hilt.
Your eyes clench shut and your walls spasm around him at the sudden intrusion. "Fuck yeah...that's it..." He breathily grunts out and slowly rocks his hips back and forth to get you used to the feeling. That doesn't last long though. He starts slamming his hips against yours as he holds your head down making you squirm and sob into the pillow.
"Fuckin' brat. Take it without cryin'." He spits out and lands a harsh spank to your ass making your entire body jolt and he palms where he slapped as a silent apology. He leans his entire body weight on top of yours while messily smacking his hips onto yours.
Your moans and cries are muffled and your entire body's tingling from both exhaustion and pleasure. The hand that's not still holding your head down snakes down to your puffy clit and he pinches it making you jolt your hips towards his. Wet sounds and skin slapping against each other filled the room along with his gasps and moans and your muffled screams.
Gripping the back of your hair he pulls your head up and bites your jaw, "'K-kuun-na-! A-Angh!!! P-pleeaaaseee-! O-ooohhhh!! Mfph!!!" Sukuna cut your blabbering off by shoving his fingers in your mouth causing you to make gurgling noises around them. His balls were slapping against your clit while he thrusted with all of his strength into you. "Fuckin' too loud. Be quiet or I'll stop fuckin' ya." At that you mouth clamps around his fingers, and you desperately try to stop yourself from screaming at how good you felt.
"I-I- shit..." He gasps, his throbbing cock twitched inside of you, and he felt his abs and thighs tense up. He was oh so close to coming inside of you. With his assault on your clit and his fingers massaging your slacked jaw mouth you felt the knot in your tummy snap as your eyes rolled back and your walls clamp around his cock. You hear him let out a strangled moan and gasp in your ear as you squirted messily all over his sensitive cock.
"Fuckin- shit-A-angh!" That's the last thing you could hear and the only thing you could feel was his leaky cock filling your ass up before your vision blackened and your body slumped against the pillow.
Sukuna can't move. He stays inside of you unmoving for a while, catching his breath and shaking slightly. Fuck. You were all he could think about, your skin, the way you looked at him, the way you shook, the way your cunt clenched around his flaccid cock. Your stupid smile. Your bratty attitude. How you looked when you were on a job. How you looked when you were at home.
Fuck. Just you. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You.
You consumed him just as much as he consumed you. His head felt dizzy, still inside of you his body slumps softly on top of yours. He doesn't even have any energy to move. Sukuna felt so warm inside it scared him. He wasn't supposed to feel warm. He was supposed to be cold hearted. It scared him how much you made him feel.
Your scent and just you in general overwhelmed his senses making his body erupt in goose bumps and shiver. Maybe consuming each other wasn't so bad.
⋆ ✩°。⋆ 𖦹。˚ ⋆ ✮ ༺ ⟡ ݁₊ ⊹ ა ✧ ໒ ⊹ ₊ ݁ ݁⟡ ༻ ✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩。˚ ⋆
Masterlist<3
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@my-own-au-my-way
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rafesbabygirlx · 2 days ago
Text
Time Alone - Drew x GF!Reader
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Masterlist
Summary: you and Drew have crazy work schedules. Finally having time off work you go and spend it with him in South Carolina when he films. Even being there with him it’s hard to find time alone, until it isn’t.
A/N: wrote this on my phone so my theme is not present here. Just too good not to post. Also not really proofread since it was done on my phone and I hate google docs on my phone.
Warnings: SMUT - car sex, oral, riding
Inspired by @rafescokewhore anons finding his Apple Music playlists. Been thinking about this for a while. 🤭
You and Drew drive home from set, the cool evening air filling the car as the hum of the engine fades into the background. You’re visiting him for a couple of weeks while he’s filming, but this is the first real alone time you’ve had since you arrived. He’s been either on set or surrounded by the cast at the apartments, and by the time you both make it to bed, you’re usually too tired to even talk.
The car ride is mostly silent, the two of you holding hands as one of his playlists plays in the background. There’s a comfortable intimacy in the quiet, a kind of connection that doesn’t need words.
When he pulls into his spot in the dark parking lot, the air between you shifts. He turns off the car, the music still playing, and looks at you with an expression that sends a flutter through your stomach.
“Pull down your shorts,” he says, his tone casual but firm.
You blink at him, startled. “Huh?”
Before you can fully process what’s happening, he’s already reaching over, his fingers deftly working at the button of your shorts. His determined expression makes you burst into giggles, but the sound catches in your throat as he tugs your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion, tossing them into the back seat.
Your body shifts instinctively, pressing your back against the passenger-side door as Drew adjusts himself. He kneels in the driver’s seat, gently lifting one of your legs to drape over the backrest and he pulls you up so your ass is on the center console.
His movements are unhurried but purposeful. His lips brush your inner thigh, trailing heat in their wake before his mouth descends. The first flick of his tongue against your clit sends a jolt through you, a loud moan escaping your lips.
Without breaking rhythm, his free hand reaches for the volume knob, turning up the music to drown out your sounds, just in case anyone happens to pass by. “Those sounds are just for me.” He looks up at you eyes full of lust.
He’s relentless, his tongue and fingers working together as if he’s savoring every reaction he draws from you. His mouth moves with a feverish intensity, exploring every inch of you as your body arches against the door, lost in the moment.
Your moans grow louder as Drew’s movements intensify. His tongue circles your entrance before trailing back to your clit, sending waves of heat through your body. His fingers slide inside you with an almost teasing slowness, curling just right to make you gasp. You can’t help but thread your fingers into his scalp, gripping tightly, nails digging to his head as his mouth continues its work.
“Drew,” you whisper, your voice shaky, barely audible over the music.
He glances up at you, his eyes dark with focus, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, the look in your eyes seems to spur him on, his movements becoming more deliberate, more consuming.
The windows are fogged now, the small car feeling like its own secret world. The outside doesn’t matter—just Drew, the music, and the intoxicating pull of the moment.
Your chest rises and falls quickly, sending out shallow gasps as Drew’s tongue works hard against you. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue in maddening circles. His fingers curl inside you, pressing against that perfect spot that makes your back arch and your moans uncontrollable.
Your hips move instinctively against him, chasing the building pressure. He adjusts slightly, his other hand gripping your thigh to keep you steady as his tongue moves with maddening precision. The pleasure swells, consuming you until all you can do is hold onto him, gasping his name as your body trembles.
“Fuck, Drew,” you whimper, your fingers r moving around his head as your hips continue to buck against his mouth.
He lets out a low growl of approval, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through you. His grip on your thigh tightens, holding you in place as he devours you like he’s starving.
“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against you, his voice muffled but rough with hunger. He dips his tongue inside you, his nose brushing against your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out.
The car is sweltering now, the heat inside making you forget it’s winter, but neither of you care. The world outside feels miles away—right now, it’s just you, Drew, and the overwhelming heat pooling in your core.
He pulls back slightly, his lips glistening, and looks up at you with that wicked smirk you know too well. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?”
You nod frantically, barely able to form words as he slides his fingers back inside you, curling them just right. His mouth finds your clit again, sucking hard, and your whole body tenses as the pressure inside you builds to a breaking point.
“Come on, baby,” he urges, his voice dark and commanding. “I want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.”
The sound of his voice, the filthy promise in his words, sends you over the edge. Your body shakes as the orgasm crashes through you, your cries spilling out uncontrollably. Drew doesn’t let up, his mouth and fingers working you through every wave of pleasure until you’re left trembling, completely spent.
He finally pulls back, his lips slick and swollen, and sits back in the driver’s seat, his chest rising and falling as he watches you. “God, you’re fucking beautiful when you come,” he says, his voice thick with lust.
You’re still catching your breath, your body slumped against the door, when you notice the bulge in his pants. He follows your gaze, smirking as he adjusts himself.
“You think I’m just letting it end there?” he asks, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free himself.
Your eyes widen slightly, heat rushing back through your body as he strokes himself slowly, his gaze locked on you.
“Come here,” he commands, his voice low and dripping with need.
You crawl over the center console, straddling him as his hands find your hips, guiding you down onto him. The stretch is perfect, and you let out a soft moan as he fills you completely.
“That’s it,” he groans, his hands gripping you tightly. “Ride me, baby.”
You move slowly at first, your bodies pressed together in the cramped space of the car. His mouth finds yours, the kiss hot and messy, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. His hands guide your hips, urging you to go faster, harder, until the sound of skin against skin fills the car, mixing with your moans and the bass of the music still playing in the background.
Every thrust hits deep, and you’re both lost in the heat of it, your bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. The car rocks slightly with your movements, the world outside completely forgotten as you chase another high together.
“Fuck,” he groans against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. “You’re so tight, so fucking perfect.”
His words send you spiraling closer to the edge again, and as his hand slips between your bodies to rub your clit, it’s all too much. Your second orgasm hits you even harder than the first, your body clenching around him as he thrusts up into you, his own release following soon after.
You collapse against his chest, both of you panting and spent, the air in the car thick with heat and filled with the scent of sex. His fingers trail lazily along your spine as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. He reaches over and turns down his music that was just blasting.
“Now that,” he murmurs, his voice still breathless, “is how you make the most of alone time.”
You laugh weakly, shaking your head as you pull back to look at him. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you love it,” he replies, his grin smug and entirely unapologetic.
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