#that word is starting to lose all meaning to me now

[sematarygirls]

Okay but he’d fuck you so hard when they lose the Super Bowl after you spends an hour gloating about the eagles handing their asses to them!

i saw this request and started giggling and kicking my feet omg. anon, i owe you my first born child. you are a GENIUS! (although, fair warning, i'm not great at writing smut. i hope this is okay <3) not proofread

cw: unprotected p in v, rough sex, mean rafe, slapping, degradation

Football tended to be a touchy subject between you and Rafe. Where you were a diehard Eagles fan, he wouldn't be caught dead rooting for them. After the Chiefs narrowly beat out the Eagles in the 2023 Super Bowl, Rafe wouldn't shut up for weeks about how "trash" the Eagles were. It drove you absolutely insane.

That's why, when the Eagles absolutely kicked ass this Super Bowl in a rematch against the Chiefs, beating them out at a whopping 40-22, you thought it was your well-deserved right to rub it in Rafe's face, much to his dismay.

One thing about Rafe is that gloating is only okay when he does it—much like a lot of other things (he's a very hypocritical guy), hence his growing anger when you wouldn't stop talking about how the Chiefs absolutely threw the game with all their fumbles, making jokes the whole time about how it seemed like they weren't even playing.

Another thing about Rafe? He tended to get violent when he was angry. With other people, this meant he'd kick their asses, but with you, it meant you were in for a long night of rough fucking to make him feel better and put you in your place for your "bratty attitude."

Though, if you tried to point out the hypocrisy with him finding your actions annoying when he had done the exact same two years prior, he would only get more annoyed and very, very defensive.

You'd learned at a very early stage in your relationship that some battles were not worth fighting with Rafe, and besides, you kind of liked it when he was all rough with you, manhandling and degrading you deliciously.

"Not so mouthy now, huh?" He taunted, pounding into you from behind. Each thrust pushed you forward a little bit, your face burying further into the pillows as you moaned. A sharp slap to your ass had you gasping, the pain sending a jolt of pleasure to your core that had you practically gushing around Rafe's thick length. You didn't know how long you'd been going at this with him, but he hadn't let you cum, nor had he let up the brutal pace.

"Look at you," he sneered. "Can't even think of anything to say back to me, huh? Thought you were gonna gloat all night about how the Eagles won." His words were cruel and biting, revealing the depth of his anger, which wasn't about the football game. It was more so about being challenged, his ego hurt after talking such a big game about how the Chiefs were going to dominate.

You couldn't form a coherent sentence. Your brain turned to mush as the only thing you could focus on were his rough hands on you and his length stretching your velvety walls. You could practically feel each ridge and vein of his cock as it slid back and forth, his tip nudging your cervix roughly with each pass.

"What happened to that smart mouth, huh?" He mocked. "Your dumb little brain's too desperate for cock, huh, bunny," he cooed, his tone patronizing as he continued to pound into you with rough strokes, making your back arch and eyes roll back.

He was so mean, but you loved it.

He was right. You couldn't respond to him anymore. You had lost your ability to form a single word, dumbed down to a mess of please sounds as he hit that sweet spot inside of you so perfectly. He took that as a victory, seeing it as proof that you knew your place. He loved it when you whimpered underneath him, completely at his mercy. "Look who's behaving now. You're lucky you're so pretty, honey," he continued, enjoying this little game of his. "Otherwise, I wouldn't put up with such a bratty mouth."

"Fuuuuuck," he groaned, giving your ass another sharp smack before his hands found your hips again, his grip bordering on painful. "And this fuckin' love this pussy. Fuckin' perfect, baby."

He was getting close. You could tell by the way his pace started to falter, and his words switched from degrading to praising. One hand slipped down to your clit, rubbing firm circles. Even when he was pissed, he still tried to make you cum first.

It didn't take much more effort on his part. Your thighs were already trembling, desperate for release from the moment he'd thrown you onto the bed and ripped your clothes off.

"You're gonna be a good girl now, huh? You're gonna stop being such a pain in the ass, aren't you?" He questioned, punctuating each question with a thrust. "No more running your mouth and riling me up, right?"

"Uh huh," you whined pathetically, needy and desperate to cum.

He knew he had you right where he wanted you, all pliant and begging. "Yeah, you gonna stop talking back, huh? You can be a good little bunny for me, can't you?" He cooed, his words sounding a little bit less harsh. He was enjoying having you like this, completely at his mercy.

All you could muster was a weak nod, your fingers gripping the sheets and mouth parted in ecstacy as you reached your peak, blinding pleasure overtaking your body as your walls clamped down around his cock.

"That's it, baby, just like that," he groaned, pumping a few more times before pushing deep inside you and releasing spurts of hot, sticky cum into your eager cunt.

[karikitdemonrp]

Kari's blush darkened when Hawks said she was loveable again, not fully used to such compliments. But she didn't protest or anything. She sighed softly and tried to relax only to be thrown into the air.

The child gave a gasp then began to giggle a bit. "No way! I'm not gonna lose, you are Papa!" She chirped, accepting his challenge with a smirk then thought over what he said and smiled. "I'd like to race! But go easy on me a little, I just started to glide remember. And it's not exact the same as flying." Kari gave an excited squeak.

"But this means you'll be able to teach me how to fly soon! I'm so excited about that Papa! I can't wait to be able to fly around with you and-and work with you when I'm older as a hero or something! I'm so excited! I never thought I'd be able to grow up to even be a hero but now I can!" Kari giggled, her tone was happy but her words carried a darker undertone to them.

Then again, when Hawks found her she was very weak. But now she was healthier, happier. He's been doing good when it came to his Sugar Bird and she was so happy and grateful for all he's done for her.

Hawks grinned, giving Kari’s head another affectionate ruffle. “Yeah, you are, kid. Trust me, I’ve got a pretty good read on people, and you’re definitely in the ‘loveable’ category.” He smirked as her cheeks darkened, clearly amused by how flustered she got.

Hearing her purr, he chuckled and stretched his wings, tilting his head as if thinking hard. “Hmm… arcade, huh?” He tapped his chin dramatically. “Sounds fun. But—” In a flash, he scooped her up and tossed her into the air just a little, catching her with ease before she could react. “—only if you’re ready to lose to me in every single game.” His golden eyes glinted with playful challenge.

“C’mon, chickadee,” Hawks said, setting her down and gesturing toward the sky. “Wanna race there? You can practice that gliding of yours.”

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 3)

Agatha and you have a talk about the future

Word count: 4k

Warnings: 69, oral, smut, angst (hopefully not as much), why would you ever talk about feelings/problems when you could just fuck instead

“What? What part?” you ask, your voice sounding unfamiliar to your own ears. “If it’s the City, it’s fine, that’s not far away, you could even stay here.” 

Agatha purses her lips. “It’s in Albany.” 

Your stomach drops. Two hours away by car on a good day, about four by train. Agatha has a pitiful look on her face and you want to scoff. 

Of course she’s feeling sorry for you. 

“Honey,” she starts, cool and calm as ever and it makes you fucking enraged. She reaches out to touch you again — why does she keep trying to do that? why doesn’t she realize that she isn’t going to fix anything? — but you shove her aside and scramble off the couch, beginning to pace with your head in your hands. 

Is this better than the affair? She still lied to you. She still didn’t tell you about it, she’s still looking to get out. “Why didn’t you say anything?” you demand, pausing to look at her. 

Her jaw tightens. “I didn’t — I didn’t want to before it got real. I wasn’t even sure I was going to go, but my friend reached out and it’s a really good opportunity. The company took me out to dinner last night as an informal interview and I ended up staying the night. I didn’t think you’d come here, I thought you were mad at me or something. Baby, I was really worried about you.” 

In any other situation, you’d feel touched by her concern, but it really just pisses you off even more. This isn’t about you. “I thought you were having an affair,” you say again and her face falls. 

“I would never—”

You don’t even want to hear it. “Look, don’t change the subject, okay? The point is, you did this huge thing without even telling me and now — what? You’re moving to New York?” 

Now she seems unable to meet your eyes, an uncharacteristic shyness radiating off her. “I haven’t even gotten the job yet.”

Your mind starts to whirl with the possibilities. “If you get it, are you going to take it?” 

There’s a thick silence that hangs over you two for a moment and you can see the vein in her forehead pulse as she thinks about it. But her hesitation is all the answer you need. 

“Okay,” you breathe. You don’t even know where your head is at — you’re so fucking mad, but you’re also so relieved that she isn’t cheating, but then now there’s this wrench that could possibly mean the end of things. You’re not going to let that happen. Dropping to your knees in front of her and finally touching her of your own accord with your palms flat on her legs, you earnestly look at her. “We can…we can figure it out, we will figure it out. I can come down on the weekends or you can come here or — I can transfer! I’ll transfer to somewhere in New York and we can get an apartment, just the two of us, and obviously I won’t be much help with the rent because it’s expensive as shit there—”

Agatha pulls you up by your cheeks and kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose yourself in the feeling of her lips against yours and you moan softly, everything slipping away for just a moment. In these five seconds, it’s just the two of you and nothing else can come between you. 

But then she breaks away and sighs heavily, resting her forehead against yours. “You just started school here,” she says gently. “I can’t make you give that up. Don’t you like it?”

You shrug lazily. “It’s the first week. I’m not too attached. I’m sure somewhere there will be just as good.” 

“What about your parents? What would you tell them?” 

Why does it feel like she doesn’t want you there? You can’t help the frown tugging on your lips. “I’ll just say that I don’t like it at Westview. I’m sure I can come up with something. They’ll just want me to be happy.” Agatha makes you happy, but there’s a flicker of doubt growing in your stomach.

She cups your cheek and leans back so you’re able to see her eyes. They’re blue as the ocean, full of emotion, and glassy. “Why don’t you give it a few months, hm? I don’t want you to throw away your school and your family just for me. If you really don’t like it, then we can talk.”

“What if I just drop out of school and become your trophy wife? I’ll be such a good one, I’d wear nothing but an apron all day and make your favorite foods and then I can sit on your strap while you eat dinner.” You play it off like a joke, but deep down, you would be more than willing. You hope she says yes. 

Agatha huffs out a laugh and sniffs, tracing a finger down the skin of your face like she’s trying to memorize it. “Wear a short little maid outfit that just happens to ride up and show off your bare cunt when you’re on your knees cleaning the floor?” 

You hum and close your eyes in pure bliss at the thought. “See, now you get it. It would be so perfect, right? 

“So perfect,” she agrees, but her smile lingers until it’s wistful. There’s a longing pang inside you, one that threatens to tear you open, but you push it down. “I know I haven’t gotten it yet, but I won’t take it,” she says quietly after a moment and your brows furrow in confusion. “If you don’t want me to take it, I won’t.” 

Every single morsel of your body is screaming for you to ask her to stay. It would be so easy, and then you could just pretend that none of this — the suspicion, the lies, the sneaking around — never happened. Everything could go back to the way it was before. 

But the slightest fear that she would start to resent you for it creeps into the back of your mind. Sure, she might not mind at first, but over time when her job here gets old and she’s unhappy, she’s going to blame you. She’s going to start to hate you for holding her back, and what if you’re not worth it? 

The last thought hits you like a punch to the gut. Are you enough to keep her content if she stays? Are you enough to keep her happy? 

You’re paralyzed and she’s looking at you expectantly, like it’s an easy fucking decision. You want to complain that it’s not fair for her to put this on you, that she should want to be with you so badly that she willingly gives up the new position for you, but maybe she’s having the same doubts.

The only thing you know is that you don’t want to end up like your parents, with a loveless marriage and a cold, empty house despite the family living in it and the bitter silence of words left unsaid haunting every moment. You don’t want this to become an open wound that festers until Agatha hates you for it. 

“If it’s a better job and if you want it, you should take it,” you say, almost surprised by how eerily calm your voice sounds. 

Agatha looks taken aback for just the slightest moment but nods. “You’re sure?” 

No! Stay with me! I fucking love you! 

“Yeah,” you rasp and she bends down to kiss you again, so sweetly that it hurts. She murmurs something against your lips but you don’t even think to ask what she says because you can’t stop the nausea climbing up your throat. 

You jump back and run to the bathroom before vomiting in the toilet. You sink to the floor, shaking and sweating and trembling, and you’re vaguely aware of Agatha’s hands in your hair, holding it back, and telling you that everything is going to be alright. Is it?

She gets a wet washcloth and holds it against your head while you don’t move from your position, waiting to see if you have to puke again. 

“Had too much to drink last night,” you mutter, feeling like you’re drunk all over again, when she asks if you’re feeling okay. “Thought you were cheating.”  

You hear a heavy sigh behind you and tears prick your eyes. Is she disappointed? Does she think you’re being just a stupid kid? “I wouldn’t, honey. I wouldn’t do that. I promise. I—” She stops and strokes your hair instead.

It feels like there’s something she’s not saying, but maybe you’re just reading into it. 

And then there’s your I love you while she was fucking you, still fresh in your mind. Do you say it again? Do you ask if she heard it? Or just wait until she says it first?

If she does. You can’t get these stupid insecurities and doubts out of your mind and it’s killing you. 

“Do you feel like you’re going to throw up again?” she asks gently and you shake your head. “Come on, why don’t we get you into the shower and then into bed?”

You want to protest just to be petulant, but you’re just so fucking tired. “Okay, mommy,” you say and she sharply inhales, but pretends to be unaffected. Good to know that you can still get to her after you look like you’ve just been through hell. 

She turns the water on and you numbly wait until she guides you up and helps you undress before you step into the shower. You almost buckle to the ground but Agatha holds you up, the sleeves of her blazer getting soaked, but she doesn’t even notice it. 

It’s an awkward position, her on the outside of the tub and you barely standing up inside it, but she rubs your skin and you slowly feel warmth returning to your body. 

You’re about to ask if she’ll get in with you — you see the way she can’t stop looking at your tits and you’re suddenly longing to feel her on you, a reminder that she is yours — when a phone rings. 

Definitely not yours; your phone is always on silent. 

Agatha curses and tells you she’ll be right back before disappearing from the bathroom. The cold feeling starts to grow back in your stomach, creeping up to your throat and gripping tightly. 

“Yes — this is she!” you hear her say from the other room, her voice getting louder as she comes back into the bathroom. You look at her with wide eyes and she gives you a tight smile. “Oh, I did? Well, thank you very much, that is wonderful news.”

The person on the other line starts talking and you can only catch quick muffles of it, but from Agatha’s face, you already know. 

“Of course, yes, hang on just one second,” she says and presses her phone against her shoulder to give you her full attention. Eye contact with her feels like a stab to the gut. “Honey, are you sure you’re okay with this? You can say no.” 

Can you? 

It’s on the tip of your tongue — it would be so easy to ask her to turn it down, so easy to ask her to choose you. She’s waiting for an answer but each drop of water on your skin feels like a chant: no. no. no. You know Agatha’s trying to remain neutral, but you can tell she wants the job, by the way she’s twitching her fingers and the barely concealed pleading look on her face and the way she’s holding her phone so tightly it’s making her veins pop out all bluish and purplish. 

It’s clear that you cannot say no. 

You’re not sure she would ever forgive you, and you’re not sure you would ever forgive yourself. You can’t ask her to throw away this opportunity, not for you. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you say hoarsely, feeling a lot like you just signed a death warrant. 

But plenty of people do long distance, and two hours really isn’t that bad. Plus it just means that with all the waiting, the sex will be even hotter. Her moving away doesn’t mean anything. 

And you can transfer at the end of the semester, so really you just have to make it a few months. 

Agatha’s beam is one of pure gratitude and you know you made the right choice, but she’s back to talking on the phone and your little moment is interrupted. “Oh…two weeks? Of course, I can totally do that.” 

A flash of panic bolts through you and you mouth two weeks? at her. She purses her lips and shrugs apologetically, like that’s supposed to make you feel better. 

The rest of her phone call is blurred out by your sudden inability to hear anything but the rush of the water that has suddenly become so loud it’s taken over all your thoughts and you don’t even realize that she’s hung up and cleaned you off and gotten you out of the shower until you’re shivering and naked and Agatha’s wrapping a towel around you. 

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay,” she murmurs because you’re now uncontrollably shaking and you think you might be crying a little. “Everything’s going to be okay.” She presses kisses to your forehead and cheeks and nose, muttering the same sort of sentients, while the towel around you slips to the floor when you throw your arms around her and cling to her like she’s your lifeline, like she’s everything you’ll ever need, and she holds you back so tightly you think you might fuse into one being. 

The two of you stand there like that until your skin gets clammy and pruney and your eyes are raw. When you finally pull back, your muscles ache and the front of Agatha’s clothes are absolutely soaked, so you tug on them until she gets the message and begins to strip. 

Her blazer comes off, and then she untucks her blouse from her pants and slowly begins to unbutton it, each time revealing more of her perfect pale skin. You can see the faint outlines of her ribs and then her stomach, the red bites from two days ago still there, albeit faded. 

There’s no mistaking the “M” though. A hot thrill runs through you despite the solemn air between you and a fire starts to flicker to life in your stomach. You reach out to trace your mark as if in a trance and Agatha’s breath hitches. 

Swallowing roughly, your eyes dart up to meet her already-dark ones. “We should talk about the job, right? Figure out what it means for us?” you ask, but even as the words leave your mouth, you can feel the atmosphere shift into something else. 

“Right,” Agatha nods, but she can’t stop looking down at your pebbled nipples — from the cold or from her? 

When she surges forward, clasps your cheeks, and pulls your mouth to hers, you know that it’s both. The kiss is messy, teeth knocking against each other and her tongue invading your mouth and breathing each other’s air, and you wrap your arms around her neck to bring her even closer. She didn’t get to take her pants off yet, but it feels absolutely delicious when she slides a thigh between yours and you grind down onto it. Your nipples brush against the fabric of her bra and you can’t help but moan into her open mouth. 

Fire roars beneath your skin, spreading to all over your body, and you suddenly just need more. You need her to overwhelm all your senses until you can’t fucking think about anything else, not the job, not her moving, not the fact that you could’ve stopped this but didn’t — you just want her. 

She grabs onto your hip to guide you against her leg and you whine as she sucks on your tongue. Her other hand comes up to cup your right breast and roll your nipple and you mewl and jerk against her. She tugs and it feels directly connected to your cunt because you pulse and it only gets worse when she flexes her thigh underneath you. 

“Bed — bedroom, please,” you choke out and her mouth doesn’t leave yours, walking you backwards into the bedroom and not stopping until the backs of your knees hit the bed. 

Agatha pushes you down onto it, the duvet beneath you instantly getting wet from your dripping pussy, and she shimmies off her pants and underwear and sinks to her knees in front of you. It’s a sight to behold, her looking up at you from the floor like she wants to devour you, like she would hang the stars and the sun in the sky for you and it still wouldn’t be enough. The power running through you from the heat in her eyes and the ragged heaving of her red chest and the way she tosses her hair over her shoulder is enough to drive you mad. 

“You’re so perfect,” she breathes and it only makes you wetter. You buck your hips against the bed, trying to get some stimulation to your now-aching clit, but it’s not even close to enough. 

But it’s not even five seconds later when she leans in, inhales the scent of you deeply, and then drags her flattened tongue through your folds, making you keen and arch your back. She is so good with her mouth and she never fails to remind you. 

“Fuck, Agatha,” you gasp, and you usually don’t call her by her name during sex, normally opting for mommy, but you need the intimacy right now. You need to feel like this is real. 

She groans into you and teases her tongue around your clit, never quite touching it, and you bury your fingers in her hair and gently pull on it. Her eyes flick up to yours as a warning and you loosen your grip. Agatha gives you an almost imperceptible nod and rewards you with one long lick to your clit and your head falls back. 

You can no longer hold yourself up when she thrusts her tongue inside you, and you fall back onto the bed, instantly clenching around you. She feels so fucking good, her tongue curling inside your cunt and her nose brushing against your clit, and you angle a leg up on the bed so she can reach deeper inside you. “God, yes,” you sigh, and your orgasm is slowly starting to build up with each roll of your hips and each time your stomach tightens. 

But something is missing — you can’t help your thoughts from straying and you just need more. 

So you stop her and she looks up at you, the entire bottom half of her face and nose absolutely covered with you. Your clit throbs and you sit up.

“I need — I want — wanna taste you too, Aggie,” you whine and you’ve never used that nickname before, but you think she likes it because she lunges up, capturing your lips with hers again, and knocking you straight back onto the bed. 

She nods while still kissing you, whispering, “Fuck, honey, how are you so hot? How are you so perfect for me?” 

You clench around nothing and you claw at her shoulder blades frantically, knowing what you need but not how to ask for it. 

But Agatha knows — she always knows what you want, except for when it really counts apparently. She gets off of you and scooches on her knees until she’s situated behind your head, facing your body. And then she moves to frame your face with her thighs, her glistening cunt hovering right above your face, and she bends over to pry your legs open before leaning down and sucking on your clit roughly. 

You squirm and palm her ass to pull her down to your mouth, and at your first lick through her folds, she moans right into you, the vibrations making you jump. Eating her out while also being eaten out is an experience like no other you’ve ever had. Every single thing you do to her affects her, which in turn, affects you. 

The positive feedback loop has both of you sloppily mouthing at each other’s cunts, mimicking motions while also losing all sense of rhythm, and when she digs her fingernails into your thighs and scrapes her teeth against your clit, you let out a high-pitched sound that has her riding your face furiously. 

Agatha is getting louder too — you can feel it more than hear it, and you are completely drunk on her smell and her taste and how good she’s making you feel. You dip your tongue into her entrance, stroking against her convulsing walls before swirling around her clit and she pauses what she’s doing for a moment to just breathe heavily against your pussy before diving back in. 

All thoughts of anything else are completely out of your foggy mind and you feel like you’re floating, not able to focus on anything else besides Agatha. 

If you would’ve known that your dad having an affair would have led to you having the hottest sex with the hottest woman ever, you definitely wouldn’t have been so mad about it. 

“Oh, god, baby, you’re so good,” she says into your cunt and it only makes you grind up harder. She matches your intensity, riding your face fast, her clit dragging against your tongue. You groan in agreement and her stomach glides against your nipples while hers do the same and you know that it won’t be long before either of you cum. 

She nips at your inner thigh before plunging her tongue inside you and it has your hips bucking. “Fuck — Agatha,” you cry, barely able to keep eating her out because of how stimulated you are. Pleasure is racing through every ridge of your body and your head is spinning. 

“That’s right, honey,” she pants, lathering her tongue all over your clit. “Cum for me.” 

The tension inside you snaps and you cum, riding out the immense wave as she continues lapping at you and you suck on her clit, triggering her own orgasm. There’s a gush of wetness all over your face and she keeps rolling her hips, chasing the last tendrils. 

That was one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever had, you think, and when Agatha flops down onto the bed next to you, breathing heavily, you think she might agree. 

“Fuck,” you say, completely wiped out, and Agatha chuckles weakly in response, reaching a hand out to rest her fingers against yours, not quite interlocking them. The two of you lay like that for what feels like forever, just soaking in the silence and the comfort of being right next to each other. 

You’re not sure who moves first — maybe it’s a mutual decision, but eventually you slide up to the pillows and Agatha turns around and moves next to you. Rotating onto your side, you hear the sheets rustle behind you and right on cue, Agatha’s arm snakes around you, holding you close enough to her that you can feel her heartbeat against your back and her breath on your neck. 

She kisses the top of your ear and you snuggle back against her. You know that you should put on clothes and clean up your mess, but for right now, you just need to feel her against you. 

“We’re going to be okay?” you ask timidly. It seems like it was so long ago that you were spiraling out of control because you thought she was cheating. 

Agatha’s arm tightens around yours. “We’re going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay.” 

And you think you might actually believe her. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @vyvvycg

[kkoga]

DO IT. DO THE HURT NO COMFORT. PLPSLSPLSPSLSPLS I LOVE ANGST!!!

-🎧

A/N : your wish is my command....

RAINY NIGHTS, sophia laforteza x fem!reader

Warning ! Hurt no comfort, toxic relationship, mentions of sensitive topics, not proofread

Disclaimer ! Everything written here is pure fiction. Every person is not a real portrayal of themselves.

Now playing ! Cologne by beabadobee

WC — I dont knkw bruh i wrote this and its 3 fucking am im not mentally sane lawl phones also 7 percent.

Synopsis ! After Sophia Laforteza fucks up multiple times, Y/n decides she's had enough. Time and time the girl had waited, but much to her dismay, all Sophia had done, was disappoint her.

Y/n shamefully exits the restaurant, feeling dozens of eyes on her. The girl had been waiting for her girlfriend, Sophia Laforteza, to show up to a date they've been planning for weeks now.

The first hour wasn't so bad. Maybe she had gotten stuck in traffic, or maybe she would be just a little late. The second hour was worse. At that point, waiters and waitresses had started asking her where her partner was. And what Y/n hated the most, was the fact that she had no answer to their questions.

Now here she was, after the fourth hour of waiting. It was currently 12 am, and much to the girl's luck, it had just started raining.

The girl could only sigh.

"What a great marvellous day! Not only does Sophia leave me waiting for our date, it starts raining right after I get kicked out! Absolutely hilarious!" Y/n mumbes to herself, tears beginning to well up.

"Maybe she just forgot. I mean, she's busy afterall..." The girl tried her best to convince herself that this was going to be a one time thing.

She was wrong.

Y/n bites her inner lip. It has been 2 hours since their designated sleepover. It's been weeks since Sophia had gone over to her house. So they'd been planning for a movie night. And tonight was that night. So why exactly has Sophia been ignoring her calls?

Y/n presses the call button once more, but to no avail, she was met with Sophia's voice mail for the nth time.

The popcorn was starting to get cold, and the ice cream was starting to melt. Y/n sighs. It's been two hours. Maybe she got caught up in an emergency schedule?

"Couldn't she just have told me...?" Y/n shakenly whispers to herself. This was the fourth time Sophia had stood her up this month alone.

Y/n begrudgingly placed the ice cream back in the fridge and seals the popcorn in a random container. The sound of rain keeping her grounded.

"It's okay. This will be the last time this happens."

Finally. Sophia had finally shown up to a hang out. Y/n had been waiting for the past month. The girl had greatly missed her girlfriend, and she hoped Sophia felt the same.

"Sophie! Hi!" Y/n ran up to Sophia, and hugged her as tight as she could. Afraid to let go, scared she might lose the one person able to cheer her up with a simple smile.

"Y/n! Baby! Hi, i missed you so much." Sophia hugged the girl back, and for a moment, Y/n thought,

"Finally. We're back to normal. Oh god, how I've missed my girl."

Y/n couldn't help the small but sweet smile that had formed.

It had been an hour since their hang out started, and apparently, Sophia had to go. Y/n felt sad, but knew it was her job, her dream. And Y/n would never get in the way of that.

As Sophia entered her car, Y/n bid goodbye to her girlfriend.

"Bye Sophie, miss you, and i love you." Y/n leans down for a cheek kiss, almost missing the unreadable expression Sophia had on her face.

"Yeah, bye." And with that, Sophia drives off to god knows where.

"No i love you too...? No... maybe she just forgot. It's fine." And suddenly, rain had started pouring. Y/n quickly ran for cover, but couldn't avoid looking like a somewhat wet puppy.

It was infact, not fine. It had been three months since that little mini date, and Sophia hadn't said the words "I love you". Atleast not without Y/n basically telling her to.

What went wrong? What did Y/n ever do? Did she offend Sophia? Did she do anything to form this... this gap between them?

Y/n felt so lost. So... confused. She was so sure she hadn't done anything. At least not anything she could remember. Well, she was going to find out tonight.

The door opens widely, in a swift manner. And in comes Sophia, sick and worried.

"Y/N, BABY, ARE YOU OKAY?? I came as soon as i got the text, I—" The panicked Sophia came in, expecting to see an injured or sick Y/n. But all she had found was Y/n sitting on the chair of one of her counters, with a stoic look on her face.

Sophia's breathe was heavy, like she had ran to get to Y/n's apartment.

"Why are you completely fine? You texted me it was an emergency Y/n, I was busy—!"

"Well, you always are, aren't you?" Y/n looks up to Sophia's eyes, and frustration begins to fill the Filipina.

"Excuse me? You know I'm constantly busy. For fucks sake, I'm an idol! You can't—"

"I know. I know what I signed up for, Laforteza. I know I'd never get in the way of your dreams. You would never even let me." Y/n gets off the stool, and faces her girlfriend.

"So what's your point! What, you call me here because you missed me? I was in a fucking meeting Y/n. With one of HYBE's officials!! Do you know how fucking important that is?" Sophia scratches her head in disbelief, her anger bubbling up faster than it ever has. Y/n sighs defeatedly.

"More important than me?"

Silence filled the apartment. What felt like hours were only a few measly seconds.

"The silence was more than enough, Laforteza. I'm tired. I am so fucking tired of you leaving me hanging. At first, it was a date here, a date there, but nowadays, it's like everything we plan just ends up with me waiting."

"But I'm trying Y/n! I'm trying my best for you, for my members, for my fucking dream. Why can't you just understand that?"

"Then answer this, Laforteza. When was the last time you had told me the words "I love you"? When was the last time you had willingly told me those three words."

Sophia tried to recollect, the Filipina had really tried her best. But the realization had hit her hard.

"Fucking THINK Laforteza. Give me a goddamned answer. When was the last time you had given me a sincere, loving, "I love you"?... ANSWER ME!"

"I... I can't remember...." Sophia had started tearing up. Why couldn't she fucking remember the last time she had said I love you to her own fucking girlfriend?

Y/n let out a laugh. But it wasn't the usual light and hearty laugh Sophia had always heard. This laugh sounded painful. It was like all of Y/n's vocal chords had suddenly forgotten what a laugh had sounded like.

After a few seconds, Y/n's laughing had turned into sobs.

"Do you know how many times I've had to shamefully walk out of a restaurant, or get kicked out? Sophia, everyone looked at me. Their eyes were so full of pity. The waiters and waitresses constantly checked up on me like I was some poor child, left behind by her mother. Countless times, Sophia. I endured it all, thinking it would be the last time."

Y/n's voice had started cracking, and the girl had made a face Sophia had never seen before. One filled with so much sadness, so much sorrow.

"But time and time again, you proved me wrong. Every date you stood up, every "I love you" left unanswered, destroyed me, Sophia."

"Baby... baby I'm so sorry, please—" Sophia tries to move closer to Y/n, but the girl pulls away.

"Don't. Don't ever call me baby ever again. You don't get the fucking right, Sophia."

"I'm so disappointed in you Sophia. I never thought you'd ever treat me this way. Your career may have excused a missing date or two. But seven in a row? Sophia, we've gone on three total dates for the past four month's. And we had planned seventeen. Seven fucking teen Sophia. You stood me up fourteen times, and that's only for the past four months."

"I.. please I'm so—"

"So let's end this."

"...what?"

This felt so surreal. Y/n had just asked her if they could end it. Sophia had felt her whole world crumble. She caused this? Has she really broken down the one person who had supported her through everything?

"No.. no, no we aren't. Please, just give me a chance to—"

"No, Laforteza. Get out. We're over."

Sophia laughs, hoping this was some sort of wicked sick dream.

"We aren't over Y/n. Please, I just—"

"We've been over for the past seven months, Laforteza. What we've had for those last few months was just me trying to keep us both on the same page. But a relationship requires two people. We can't keep going if your heart isn't in it, Laforteza."

Sophia couldn't help it. Her tears had burst out like there was no tomorrow. The girl hadn't cried like this for a long, long time.

"But.. but I need you Y/n, please..." At this point, the Filipina had gotten on her knees.

"No, you don't. Hell, you don't even want me. You just think you do. So please, get up and leave, before I say things I don't think I can take back."

"I can't just leave!"

"Yes you can. Leave. For the both of us, Sophie." The mention of her nickname was driving Sophia crazy.

"But I fucking love you Y/n!" .

Y/n looks at Sophia with a tired face.

"Do you really?"

Sophia looks at Y/n. A look of desperation displayed on her pretty face. Y/n hates how she's never going to see that face ever again. Hates how she's never going to kiss that pretty face to sleep ever again. Hates how those soft and comforting arms will never comfort her ever again. Hates how she will never wake up next to the love of her life ever again. Hates how Sophia will never be hers ever again. But she was okay with that. She knew it had to end one way or another. It was better this way.

And so, after more back and forth conversations, Sophia reluctantly leaves. Sophia closes the door, and Y/n locks it right after.

Y/n will never open up her heart for Sophia ever again. And the latter knows that. They were over. They were really over. Neither could believe it. The two fall to their knees, on opposite sides of the door. The sound of heavy rain masking the others cries.

Guess rainy nights were never their thing.

[ishasturnz]

Cookies ‘n Head

based off this post @sunrisemill and this fic.

contains: porn with plot, counter head?, some fluff, i think thats it, male receiving.

Bsf!Reader x bsf!Chris

authors note: it took me like an hour to figure out a plot just for this because i wanna spoil you guys. Also click on the first message to see the full thing. And RUSHED and maybe a part 2.

wc: 579

character count: 2635

4:36

My car started to pull into his driveway, the smell of freshly baked cookies filling my nose slightly making me lightheaded.

I parked and stepped out of the drivers seat and headed to the front door. Before I could even knock the door swung open revealing a very excited Chris.

“Thank you! thank you! thank you!” He squealed like a girl before attempting to take the white box away.

“Hey! Calm down, you get fed every day I think you’ll be fine without COOKIES for a few seconds.”

5:48

“Can I eat them now?” Chris persistently asked repeatedly like a child. “Okay go ahead and eat some since you want them so badly.”

I grabbed one for myself since I was a bit hungry since I didn't eat lunch.

I took a small bite of the soft food, Chris just stared at my lips the whole time.

Noticing how plump my lips were, how smooth my brown skin was, but his thoughts shifted from something else.

And wasn't appropriate once so ever.

“Chris dude, are you even gonna eat the cookies? I’m only saving them because I want you to have some, secondly, I’m hungry too” My voice chose to get a slight attitude and sassiness added into it.

“Well first off lose the fucking attitude, secondly, M’not hungry. Not for food at least.” His accent started to slip out slowly the deeper his voice got.

“Okay, then what are you hungry for? Because you’re not the only one hungry. But I’m hungry for food so what do you wanna eat then?” I started to slowly get hangry and sassier by the second.

“I got something that’ll make you full.” Those were his last words before I somehow ended up on my knees in front of him.

6:09

"y-yeah—shiit, juuust like tha--mmpfh-ah," Chris’s head fell back against the white cabinet behind him.

His rough hands pulled my hair into a makeshift ponytail, guiding my movements as I continued sucking him off.

His eyes hooded, making it seem like they’ve rolled back completely. His hips started to buck into my mouth making the tip of his oversized cock nudging against the back of my throat making me continuously gag around him.

The noise of gargling filled the entire kitchen "fuuuck, I’m right there, just... just—shit," he groaned out loud.

Hot tears spilled down my face as he continued to face-fuck me. Until the tight coil in his lower stomach started getting tighter and tighter by the second.

and his climax hit him hard, his whole body shuddering, hips twitching into your mouth uncontrollably.

his hips twitching almost involuntarily as he spilled deep down your throat, he held your head down by the makeshift ponytail to make sure you swallowed all of his sticky release a quiet moan left his mouth “..Shittt…”.

6:40

I wiped the corners of my mouth getting rid of access cum and licking it off my thumb. “You should drink more water or something chris— your cum tastes like ass.” My tone playful but I wasn’t joking at all.

“Yeah I don’t think now’s the best time to mention that.” Chris spoke while catching his breath yet munching on one of the soft cookies.

“Yeah sure buddy” I paused before speaking again, “Also who knew Christopher Sturniolo whimpers, more blackmail for me”

“Oh fuck you Y/n.” He uttered with a mouthful of chewed-up cookies in his mouth.

“I mean you can if you want to, I’m not saying no.”

taglist: @tezzzzzzzz @chrepsi @angvl3tears @theylovedemi @sturnshood @sturnberries @sturniologirlzz @muwapsturniolo @dykes4chris @chrisisadilf @chrissturniolossidebitch @baileysturnz @slut4christopherr @slxt4chriss @slvtf0rchr1s @slxtarchive @raesturns @hjvi @starkeyszn @audreyscave @lailasnight @sturns-mermaid @ikyoudreamofme @sturnsmadl @ohmanareyoucereal9 @sossturn @blushsturns @rcklessheavn @55sturn @phone4pills @cupiidk1lls @bsturnzmtts @wh0remikasas @sfoiasturn @trevorsgodmother @bluestriips

MASTERLIST

[nakylvr]

omg dealer!dani angst where a deal goes wrong and she either goes to jail or to the hospital and reader finds out through the news after not hearing from dani for a few days thinking she ghosted her!!! if she goes to jail reader posts the bail for her and if dani is in the hospital reader will be by her bedside everyday😭😭😭

dealer!dani comeback ✊ this has been in my drafts for a hot minute i apologize but here 🤲

– ECHOES OF SILENCE

warnings/tags: hurt/comfort, language, established relationship, f!reader, dealer!dani au, injuries mention, hospitals

to say you were worried would be an understatement. the first reason being told to stay home from daniela while she went out to a deal with others. the second being she never came back. you tried texting, you tried calling, you even called manon and minji to see if they knew anything only to get no answers. worried wasn't the right word anymore. you were starting to freak out once it reached day two of not hearing from her.

your first thought is she's ghosting you. for what reason? you could never know. while she's never done it before, part of you wouldn't be too surprised if she randomly decided to leave and not bother responding. your next thought is that something bad happened. that's the only other explanation. if she got arrested, thankfully you had bail money in a safe. if it was worse? you didn't want to think about it.

on day three you finally got an answer. scrolling through the news section on your laptop, your body freezes when you land on a certain article.

altercation in downtown los angeles in a drug deal leaves 1 dead and 3 wounded, 1 critical

"oh my fucking god," you let out, clicking on the article to open the full page. you skim over it quickly before landing at the bottom where it says the nearest hospital was. you quickly get up and change into something more presentable, slipping your shoes on before rushing out of the apartment.

getting to the hospital was easy, making your way through the hospital was not easy. they told you what room daniela was in, but finding the room was a fucking mess with how big the place was. when you finally found the room, you stopped when your hand touched the door. '1 critical', you remembered seeing. obviously you weren't told her condition with you immediately rushing off the second you were told the room number, so you had no clue what you were walking into.

taking a deep breath, you slide the door open, and freeze in your spot. she was asleep, an iv next to her going in her arm, her arm in a sling, a black eye and other bruises scattered across her body. you hesitantly take a few steps forward, sliding the door closed behind you as you approach the bed, not being able to hold back the sob building in your throat.

daniela's eyes slowly open the second the sob leaves your mouth, and she blinks a few times before realizing it's you standing next to her. "yn?" her voice is raspy as she says your name.

the tears start falling from your eyes before you can think, your arms wrapping around the girl carefully while sobbing into her neck. "i was so worried about you, i-i didn't know what happened, yo-you never came back."

with her moveable arm, dani runs her fingers through your hair, her heart clenching at your cries. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to worry you," she says quietly. "i'm okay, i promise."

"you could've died!" you exclaim, pulling your head away to look at her. "y-you could've died a-and i would never know. i can't lose you, dani," your voice cracks as you speak, the tears still seeping down your cheeks.

daniela's hand moves up to cup your cheek, wiping away the tears that were still falling. "you won't lose me, i promise," she softly tells you. "i'm still here, i'm all in one piece, i'm okay. there's nothing to worry about."

"your arm is broken, dani," you respond. "and you look like shit. but i'm so glad you're okay."

"trust me, i'm glad too." she leans forward, pressing a soft kiss on your lips. "and now i can finally leave since you're here."

"good." you smile a little at her. "let's go home, we'll get something to eat on the way back. i know hospital food isn't the greatest."

"oh my god it's not even food i don't think!" daniela groans dramatically. "the only good part was the jell-o, seriously!"

you couldn't help but laugh at her words, nodding your head and patting her shoulder. "i'm sure."

a moment of silence fills the room before daniela speaks again in a quieter voice. "you're not mad, are you?"

"no." you shake your head. "but you aren't going anywhere until you're healed, and i mean anywhere, daniela," you tell her. "if someone is desperate enough for something, they can meet me outside the apartment. otherwise, no nothing until you're better, okay?"

"okay," she mumbles, nodding her head. "does this mean you'll be taking care of me the whole time?" she smiles a bit.

"don't get any ideas," you reply, already knowing what she was thinking. "you're the one who broke her arm."

"and you are my saving grace." she smiles wider.

"wow," you say, shaking your head. "are you concussed too?"

"nope, just in love with you," she answers.

"you're terrible."

"you love me."

[mrspiastri]

I would like to request a desi girl x lewis fic

desi munda 🪅

pairing: lewis hamilton x desi!reader

cw: fluff, lewis being a bit negative etc etc

wc: 2k words

an: thanks anon, hope u like my first lewis fic!

.° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡𖦹˚ 𓇼 ｡𖦹° ｡. .° ｡

“The last time I felt like this before a race was probably in 2008. It’s madness,” Lewis lamented in his driver’s room as he put on his fireproofs, getting ready to review the final data before hopping into the car.

“Well, it probably has to do with the fact that you’re racing in India after more than a decade. Unfamiliar track and all that jazz,” Y/N responded from where she was seated on the couch, filing her nails and adding the final touches to her makeup.

“I think it might be more because my gorgeous girlfriend won’t even look at my face,” he commented with a slight grin as he shimmied into his race suit.

She playfully rolled her eyes, snapping her compact mirror shut and stuffing it into her purse before looking at him. “There, now I’m all yours.” She smiled up at him as he walked across the room, towering over her.

“I think you’ve got a lot of pressure on you today, and not just from Fred and the team,” Y/N stated, making Lewis groan before plopping down next to her on the couch in a less-than-graceful manner.

“If you’re talking about your family, then yes, it’s probably that. I think I saw all your cousins and your aunts in the first three rows of the grandstands,” he muttered pitifully, pushing his face into the crook of her neck. She took pity on him, wrapping her arms around him as he continued ranting.

“I know they’re excited to see their future son-in-law doing what he does best—” Y/N let out an incredulous grunt at this—“but this is INSANE! I might die of stress, honestly.”

She laughed at him before holding his chin and making him look up at her. “You’re going to do wonderful, Lew. You don’t need to prove yourself to anyone. They all know you’re the best damn driver on the grid; they’re just excited to see you in your element.”

“But if I don’t win, they’re going to think I’m useless. A washed-up, no-good idiot who can’t even win a stupid race,” he sighed, slumping further down, letting his negative thoughts take over.

Y/N sat up straighter at this. “I know you’re not talking about yourself like that. Lewis, you are an amazing driver, and you know that very well,” she said firmly, leaving no room for hesitation.

“Besides, my whole family loves you! You could come dead fucking last, and they’d still cheer. Heck, you could DNF, and they’d cheer as you brought your car into the pits to retire from the race.”

Lewis let out a dry laugh at that. He couldn’t exactly deny it.

“I just... I don’t want them to think I’m a loser. I want them to see me as a part of their family—as your future husband. If they see me lose, they’ll think I’m not good enough for you,” he finally admitted, revealing what had been weighing on him ever since Y/N told him her family would be attending the race.

Y/N was silent, emotions warring inside her. On one hand, she was shocked he thought so lowly of himself and his reputation in front of her family. But on the other hand, the fact that he had thought so far ahead about their future made her want to grab his face and kiss him until he forgot every single doubt in his head.

“Lew, I promise you—whatever happens today won’t change their perception of you. To them, you are the coolest, most enigmatic person ever. And you’re *definitely* the best catch out of all the other partners my family members have brought home. I mean, come on, who can beat a seven-time Formula One World Champion?”

A knock at the door interrupted them, a staff member reminding Lewis that he had to check the final corrections made to the car after qualifying before the formation lap started in 15 minutes.

“I’ll meet my parents in the garage; you go on ahead,” she said, standing up and adjusting the red dress she wore, showing her full support for the Ferrari driver.

Lewis got into the car, checking if the throttle and steering were working fine. “Seems good. Wanna start the lap?” he asked his engineers, receiving an affirmative response.

Y/N leaned down and kissed his cheek, leaving a red lipstick mark on his skin. “A kiss for good luck—and to remove the stupid thoughts in your head.”

“I was hoping for a proper one,” Lewis playfully pouted up at her.

“That’s for after the race. You gotta have something to look forward to, na?”

He simply laughed before putting on his helmet. The sound of his car revving up echoed in the garage as he exited. Y/N, meanwhile, made her way to the back where her parents waited for her, smiling at the conversation she had just had with Lewis.

“He seems stressed. Hope it doesn’t affect his performance,” her dad pointed out, making her sigh in worry.

“He is. Honestly, he’s more worried about disappointing the family than he is about losing,” she confided.

“I hope you told him he’s crazy for even thinkingthat,” her mother gasped.

Y/N winked while putting her headphones on. “You know it.”

🪺🪺🪺

It was the final lap of the race. Lewis had overtaken Max at the start of lap 37, after tailing him for more than half of the race. In the Ferrari garage, tensions were high, with both drivers in podium positions.

As the checkered flag waved, Lewis soared past it, clinching victory in front of his girlfriend’s home crowd and further cementing Ferrari’s Constructors’ Championship title contention.

The announcers’ voices boomed throughout the grandstands, the crowd erupting into cheers. Everyone at the Ferrari garage ran out to celebrate with Lewis and Charles in parc fermé, the latter having placed third. Y/N and her parents were escorted to where the podium finishers had gathered their cars.

Lewis stood on his car, bowing to the roaring fans with his palms pressed together in a namaste pose—just like she had taught him.

The team cheered him and Charles on, with pats on the back and massive hugs. Lewis was all smiles, scanning the crowd until his eyes found Y/N, waving at him from behind the barriers.

He ran up to her, lifting her off the ground in the biggest hug he could manage without hoisting her over the barrier. She hugged him tighter, his helmet getting in the way.

He pulled it off, handing it to a team member before pulling her in again. “Now, about that kiss you mentioned earlier...” he grinned.

“You are impossible!” Y/N laughed, playfully pushing his chest.

“Good thing you love it.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t let him suffer for long. She leaned in, closing the distance between them. Her lips met his in a kiss that was slow and lingering, as if they wanted to memorize the feel of each other. His hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers threading into her hair, while his other arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

She melted into him, gripping the front of his race suit, anchoring herself in his warmth.

The crowds, the cheers, the cameras—it all faded into the background.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless, their foreheads rested together, the air between them thick with unspoken words.

She let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I forgot we were in public for a second.”

He chuckled, fingers tracing her back. “Me too. Hope your dad doesn’t beat the shit out of me.”

Her parents decided to turn a blind eye to the couple, instead focusing on congratulating Lewis on his win. However, he couldn’t help but notice her father slapping his back just a little harder than necessary, a certain look in his eye that made Lewis straighten up.

🪺🪺🪺

Later, in the Ferrari hospitality, Y/N groaned as Lewis reached for her.

“Please shower! The champagne and sweat combined make me want to puke.”

Lewis, of course, ignored this, chasing her around until he finally caught her in his grasp—sweat, champagne, and all.

“You’re so disgusting. I just washed my hair, yaar.”

Her smirk, however, gave her away.

“Well, Lewis,” her cousin quipped, “you’ve definitely earned your spot in the family now.”

Lewis grinned. “Well, I’d hope so. It was very nice of you all to come out today—really motivated me. And scared the living shit out of me.”

The whole room burst into laughter. Her father cleared his throat, eyeing the two of them. “You’ve done well today, beta. You’ve got speed, skill, and determination—but most importantly, you make my daughter happy.

Lewis straightened slightly, sensing the weight of the moment. “That means the world to me, sir.”

Her father studied him for a beat before nodding approvingly. “Good. Now go shower before you suffocate us with that champagne stench.”

The room erupted into laughter, and Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. “I told you.” Lewis laughed, pressing a quick kiss to Y/N’s temple before heading off. “I’ll be back—don’t have too much fun without me.”

🪺🪺🪺

The afterparty was in full swing by the time Lewis and Y/N arrived. The upscale venue was buzzing with energy—team members, rival drivers, and VIP guests mingled over glasses of champagne, the hum of conversations blending seamlessly with the music playing overhead.

The air was thick with the scent of expensive cologne, celebratory drinks, and the undeniable electricity of victory.

When the doors opened, all heads instinctively turned toward the couple making their entrance.

Lewis Hamilton, still glowing from his win, walked in with Y/N by his side, her right arm slotted in the crook oh his left one. They were well dressed as always — Lewis in a well-fitted, deep blue kurta, a nod to Y/N’s heritage, and Y/N in a breathtaking red saree that shimmered under the golden lights. The rich fabric draped over her in a way that left little to the imagination, her bangles softly jingling as she adjusted her hold on his arm.

“Well, don’t we look like a power couple?" Charles teased, raising his glass as they approached.

Y/N smirked. "You’re just jealous, Charlie."

“Of the matching outfits or the fact that you two have already stolen all the attention?" Carlos chimed in with a grin.

Lewis chuckled, placing a protective hand on the small of Y/N’s back. "Can’t blame them. My girl does clean up pretty damn well."

Y/N turned to him, eyes dancing with amusement. "Only fair, considering I dressed you."

Lewis leaned in slightly, voice low and teasing. "And here I thought I was doing you a favor by looking this good." She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she tugged him toward the bar.

"Come on, Mr. Race Winner, let’s get you a drink before you get too cocky." The bartender barely had a chance to ask before Charles called out, "A whiskey for the champion and—Y/N, what are you drinking?"

"White wine," she replied.

Lewis took the glass from the bartender and handed it to her before raising his own in a silent toast. "To surviving your family’s initiation," he joked.

She laughed softly, clinking her glass against his. "Oh, you’re not done yet. This is just the beginning. But let’s talk about that later, because the only thing I’m focusing on is how good you look in this kurta.”

He laughed, “Well you’re the one who said I should wear this instead of the red one I wanted to go with.”

“It’s called contrast, and we’re pulling it off well. Besides, you look much more handsome in this, like a proper desi munda.

Lewis narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "That sounds both adorable and terrifying. Should I be worried?"

Y/N smirked, "Don’t worry about it.”

Before he could question her, the music shifted to something slower, more sultry, and Lewis took that as his cue. Handing his glass to Carlos, he turned to Y/N with a familiar glint in his eye.

"May I have this dance?" Y/N raised an eyebrow. "You? Dancing at a public event?"

Lewis smirked, pulling her toward him without waiting for an answer. "For you? Always."

And just like that, in the middle of the celebration, the world shrank down to just the two of them—spinning, laughing, and getting lost in each other, a champion on the track and in love.

never written for lewis before so hope this is nice anon. honestly not very proud of this one but like fuck it we ball <4

[sunarots]

taste ━━━ suna rintarou & miya osamu

24. regret ♡

cw. cheating, steamy scene towards the end

The more people fill his small flat, the less aware of his surroundings Suna becomes. He grabs the bottle of vodka he'd hidden at the back of his cabinet and takes a drink straight from it. His vision blurs together as he eyes over the people filling his kitchen.

When did it get so busy? It felt like just a few seconds ago he was preparing for people to arrive with shot after shot until the twins showed up. Where did the twins go? They were just here a second ago.

Suna squeezes through the unfamiliar bodies, escaping the kitchen. The only empty room he can find is the bathroom in his ensuite, courtesy of the group of girls crying on his bed. He closes the door over and sets the bottle on the side of the sink.

He takes a long and hard look in the mirror, noticing every single flaw and yet unable to make a note of any of it. Not a single thought stays in his head for longer than a few seconds. Of course, you're the exclusion.

All week he's been lingering on what he should have done, what he wishes he had done. Hell, if Suna were to get the chance to do it, he would beg for you back. He would do whatever you wanted of him. He yearns to serve you, prove he knows he wants you. He would dedicate his heart and soul for you just for a final chance.

The music vibrates throughout his flat, still able to clearly hear the music through the bathroom door. Every now and again someone will shout something incoherent, followed by the crowd erupting into loud cheers. Time starts to blend together as he turns away from the mirror and sits on the edge of his bathtub, grabbing the wall beside him to stop himself from falling into it.

Just as he's considering kicking everyone out, someone opens the door to his bathroom. Who the fuck-

Oh. It's you.

Suna feels his expression soften as he watches you close the door, resting your forehead against it. "Are you okay?" He sounds drunk — too drunk considering it's not even past midnight yet.

You jump at the sound of his voice, too startled to bother wiping the tears from your cheeks. "Sorry. I just needed to get away."

Suna shrugs his shoulder and gestures for you to take a seat opposite him. He watches you lower the lid of the toilet to sit on top of it, taking some toilet paper to dry your tears. He picks up the bottle of vodka by the sink and takes another swig before offering you some of it. You hesitate before taking it from him, taking small sips at a time.

"Have you seen Osamu?" you ask between sips, your words slurring together.

Suna shrugs his shoulders and rests his head against the wall. "Not for a while. He's with Atsumu."

You nod slowly, relief spreading across your face. "Okay. Good."

Oh, right. He came without you. Why would he come without you? Does Osamu trust you that much? That must mean the feelings are fully gone, right? Right... He has no chance.

Then again, Suna came to parties with you. He hosted parties with you. He may not have agreed to every surprise date you planned, but he still showed up. Suna never forgot a birthday, anniversary, event, nothing. So, maybe he still has a chance.

"He's stupid to have come without you," he announces, reaching out to take the bottle back.

You hand it over to him. "Yeah, I know. But I can't be annoyed because he's looking out for his brother who is clearly going through something."

"He could have brought Atsumu to you." Suna sips the vodka, trying to get a read on your expression — not easy, considering it's blending together. "He's fucking stupid for wasting his time with you."

You start laughing, leaning forward with a wide smile. "Fuck off, you can't talk! Do you not remember the end of the relationship? Why you dumped me? Don't start acting all holier than thou."

Scoffing, he runs a hand through his hair and sets the bottle down on the counter by the sink. "Yeah, and it was the biggest mistake of my fucking life. He'll lose you too if he's not careful."

You straighten up, laughter subsiding. A silence falls over you both until you eventually speak, "Do you regret me?"

"I regret everything after meeting Rubi. I could never regret you." Suna pulls himself up and runs the cold water in the sink, leaning under it to take a mouthful of water before turning his attention back to you.

You're now stood beside him, lightly nudging him out of the way to get some water for yourself. Suna can't take his eyes off you. You straighten up and wipe the water from your mouth. You definitely caught him staring — he can tell by the way you're looking at him.

But Suna's well past the point of caring right now. He doesn't care about anything but you. Everything else surrounding him separates from reality, the centre of his focus is you.

"Look, Suna, I-"

He moves without thinking, his hands grabbing your waist and pulling you in close. Your breath is hot against his lips, your hands hovering by his hips. Suna closes the gap, sinking further into your touch. The heat of your skin against his ignites a fire in his stomach, an everlasting hunger only subsided by your lips against his.

Suna pulls away from you, keeping his hands on your hips. A newfound sobriety startles him, but reality is yet to hit. "Do you want me to stop?"

The seconds before you respond feel like an eternity to Suna. The shake of your head is taken as an invitation. His hands slide down from your waist to your thighs, pulling you up to set you on the sink.

Your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer, leaning your back against the mirror. The vodka bottle slips into the bath and shatters, but you don't give Suna a chance to react. You pull him closer to you, dissolving into his touch.

Suna relishes in the fact that you're enjoying this kiss as much as he is. He can tell you missed it as much as he has. It just feels right to you have you with him.

The door swings open behind him, the person halting to a stop. Suna wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your head to his chest to shield you, looking through the mirror to see Iwaizumi.

"Oh, sorry. I'll just... wait." He instantly shuts the door, leaving you both alone again.

Suna releases you, taking a step back and trying to catch his breath.

You're sat on the sink with tears in your eyes, unable to calm your anxiety. "Oh my god. I just- Oh my god... I need to go-"

Before you can touch the door, Suna blocks your way. "If you go out, they'll know. I'll clear the room so no one can see, you can hide until he comes in and then leave. Okay?" When you don't respond, Suna sighs and carefully positions you behind the door. "Okay?"

# fun fact !

iwa heard the bottle fall when he was waiting and thought someone might have hurt themself

masterlist. previous | next

summary. when your ex starts dating your least favourite person on campus, your ex-best friend from high school, you can’t help but feel a little betrayed. you quickly realise a way to get back at him: his best friend.

taglist (open!). @v3nusplanetofluv @mdmraz @thoughtswithbbg @fireinyoureye @wakashudou @jisookdays @tespho @frootloopscos @gigiiiiislife @walllflowerrrsss @tangerinelovr @datonegaybestfriend @sturnprincess @jpegarchives @justanotherweeb666 @1yeah1 @rrosiitas @yuu-via @zazathezaer @softpia @animenaces-world @loveelylani @punkhazardlaw @to-dino @nanamis-right-tiddie @aboutkiyoomi @arusio @aloore @dailyakira @alexithemiyatic @chemiru @p1nktulip @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @taefanclub @h3xi2g0n3 @rikidaze @mncxbe @luvelyjjk @iluv-ace @arwawawa2 @aldebrana @nanasrkives

[finelinevogue]

talk to me

summary - aaron is vulnerable after his family is taken from him, only you are brave enough to confront him

pairing - aaron hotchner x bau-gf!reader

word count - ~1k [very angsty…not my usual happy writing]

“Why hasn’t he killed himself yet?”

The same question ran through your head over and over again, like it was some godforsaken lyric you couldn’t stop repeating.

Only it wasn’t a lyric.

It was something Hotch had said on a case today.

Granted it was about the unsub you were catching, but you couldn’t stop going over and over the double meaning to his words. You couldn’t stop wondering if that was Hotch’s cry for help.

You were currently driving to his apartment.

It was rough for you and Aaron right now.

Aaron getting stabbed was traumatic enough for you, but for Aaron to go through that as well as losing his family and all control? It was devastating.

You and Aaron had been together for over a year, making it work with being in a relationship whilst balancing his role as a dad. Aaron was doing the extreme best he could and you were so proud of him.

But you could see the emotional toll it had taken on him these last few weeks since the incident.

It was so clear that Aaron believed he was a terrible father and he was punishing himself for it.

You were really worried about him. You cared for Aaron a lot and it was heartbreaking to think that he was keeping such self deprecating thoughts to himself. He should know better.

You pulled up outside his apartment and quickly went into his apartment.

It didn’t take long to climb the stairs and reach his door.

You hesitated.

What if you were overthinking? What if he was actually alright and by you confronting him would just plant doubting seeds?

Swearing to yourself, you knocked.

A minute later and Aaron undid the latch and opened up.

“Hey?” He clearly wasn’t expecting you.

“Hey.”

“You coming in?” He opened the door wider.

“You’re not going to ask me why I’m here?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest accusatorially.

“Do I need to question why my girlfriend is visiting?” He furrowed his brows.

“You normally would,” You answered, “But you already know why I’m here.”

You pushed past him and walked into his apartment. This conversation was not meant for the listening ears of everyone on Aaron’s apartment floor.

He closed the door with a sigh and clicked the latch again.

Aaron came and stood near you, hands on his hips as he awaited your next move. You could tell by his body language that the direction this conversation was moving in was making him really uncomfortable.

Well that was fine with you.

“So…”

“So what?” Aaron looked down at his shoes before looking back at you.

“We promised never to profile each other.” You said.

“And yet here you are.” He challenged you.

Aaron was getting defensive and you hadn’t even started the conversation yet.

You knew that getting through to him would be hard but you sometimes forget how many solid walls and foundations this man has built around himself. One chisel at a time might not be enough.

“Don’t do this, Aaron.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Push me away!” You shouted, flailing your arms up.

“I’m not…” Aaron looked off to the side.

“Aaron. I know you better than you think I do. Don’t push me away when I’m trying to help.”

“I don’t need your help.” Aaron said bitterly, still not raising his voice. Sometimes his cold shoulder was worse than his angry tone. You’d seen strong-willed men crumble at their knees under Aaron’s glare.

“Stop being so stubborn.” You groaned.

“Well stop profiling me.” Aaron bit back.

“I’m not profiling you, Aaron. I’m simply being a good friend. I’ve noticed that my boyfriend is constantly sad and says things that make me… nervous - that’s not profiling.”

“Stay out of my head.” Aaron warned.

There was no going back from this.

If he broke up with you then so be it, but you weren’t taking any chances. Not when Aaron’s mental or emotional stability was on the line.

“What did you mean today when you said, ‘Why hasn’t he killed himself yet?’ Hmm?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Aaron shook his head, “I said stay out of my head.”

“Were you asking it about the unsub…”

“Don’t.” Aaron shook his head.

“Or were you asking about yourself?” You questioned the one thing that had been constantly on your mind ever since he’d said it.

“No.” Aaron shook his head, eyes tearing up slightly.

“Aaron, honey, it’s okay to be sad –.”

“I’m not sad, I’m devastated!” He shouted. It took every fibre of it being not to flinch and send the wrong message.

“Honey…”

“No. You want to truth? I’ve questioned what the point is anymore, of course I have. My son has been taken from me in the most cruel way possible and I can’t do a goddamn thing, so I’m sorry if I seem a little more sad than usual.” His words dripped with venom.

His breath was uneven and heavy after he’d finished, almost like he was holding himself back from letting out more.

“Is that it?” You said bravely.

Aaron’s gaze pierced yours. His honey eyes so focused that they had lost their spark.

“What?”

“You want to shout at someone? Then shout at me. You want to make someone cry? Then make it me. You want to punch a wall? I’ll stitch your hand up after. You want to cry? I’ll be here with the tissues.”

Aaron’s body physically deflated as you spoke.

You weren’t done yet though.

“You think that this is a burden you carry alone, Aaron. Well it’s not. Yes it’s your family that Foyet is targeting but you are not the reason that Foyet turned out to be the way he is. You are not solely responsible for his escape or any of his devious plans. So if you want to be devastated, then fine. In fact, I’d welcome you to show your heart on your sleeve for once. But don’t for one second think of doing something stupid. Not when I’m right here.”

Aaron dropped to his knees then head hanging low as his body shook from his tears.

You had hoped it would come to this. Not that you enjoyed seeing Aaron upset, but you appreciated seeing him be vulnerable with you.

It meant that he still felt safe with you.

“I’m sorry.” He kept repeating through his sobs.

You moved quickly to kneel on the ground in front of him, pulling his body into yours so you could hold him tight.

Aaron’s love language was physical touch, so physical touch you would give him. If he thought he was anything less than loved by you then you had failed as a partner.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you. It’s going to be okay.”

You kept reassuring him, keeping your hold tight on him whilst rubbing his back comfortingly.

<.><.>

[bonus]

You stayed on the floor with Aaron for over an hour.

He needed the time to cry and let everything out, whilst knowing he had someone next to him to keep him safe.

You had eventually both made it to bed.

Even though you didn’t have any of your work clothes here and your car was definitely violating parking rights outside, you couldn’t find it in yourself to leave Aaron. You didn’t want to leave him.

He was currently resting his head on your chest as he slept, his body breathing on heavily. You were sat up in his bed, stroking a comforting hand through his hair. His arms were wrapped tightly around you so you couldn’t be taken from him.

It had been a tough day, but you had reminded Aaron that there’s always a reason to keep going at the end of it.

[tricoloreddango]

Yandere Phainon sabotaging reader’s relationship

contents: gaslighting / gender neutral reader / mention of the death of the readers’s cat/ word count: 1k

The relationship you had with your boyfriend might not have been the most exciting, but you thought of it as satisfying enough… just the fact it let you live a stable and predictable life was enough to be comforting and not leave you lonely. Your relationship hasn’t started a long time ago, but you assumed it was going into a right direction.

However, Phainon wasn’t having it. He’s been consistently trying to prove it to you that you have settled down just for a bare minimum or has been bringing up things that (in his humble opinion) were red flags. This wasn’t any different when you invited Phainon over for tea.

He looked around the kitchen, noticing a spill of coffee beans on the counter. “Is this his mess?”

You nodded. “Yes, I’m sure he’d clean it any other day. He just had to leave early for work,” you shrugged. You decided to change the topic, before Phainon would start telling you how you shouldn’t have to clean up after your own boyfriend. It was an innocent mistake from him, as he usually did his share of work. Phainon would still probably say something along the lines of “Even if, this is just the beginning—”

“He bought me flowers today,” you bragged to your visitor, sounding happy—not expecting your friend to soon make you lose that feeling. “What flowers did he give you?” he asked curious, smiling for your enthusiasm. “Roses,” you responded.

Suddenly, your friend looked disappointed, killing your smile. “Roses? Look, it’s nice he got you flowers. But aren’t peonies your favorite flowers?”

“Yes, but… he still didn’t have to give me any outside of occasions,” you muttered.

Phainon disagreed, “No, no. If he was buying them he might as well had picked the ones you like. It means he doesn’t really care about what you want but about what he wants and expects you to be grateful. Roses are so cliche and boring. He’s not romantic in any way.”

The look of uncertainty, wondering if you should believe his words, didn’t discourage Phainon. He was ready to prove you wrong furthermore your conversation. “Well… I can always tell him that. I’m sure he’ll understand and will make sure to get me the right ones the next time? He just didn’t know my favorite.” You smiled encouragingly, hoping your friend will agree.

He didn’t. He was ready to debunk your claim. “You really think he’ll listen? If he cared, he’d have asked you about your likes first. Also, don’t you remember when you asked to help you fix a tap? He didn’t,” he said with a slight disgust.

“Yes, but he was tired! He promised me he’d do it tomorrow, I just managed to do it before him,” your voice was now frustrated. Why was he so not understanding?

“I doubt that. You had to ask him to not tighten jar lids multiple times before he eventually had stopped, or had to ask him to stop putting jars on a shelf too high for you. He clearly doesn’t care about your boundaries. Don’t you remember his reaction? You said he raised his voice at you, didn’t you?” he said with worry.

“Right, but it’s because I asked him when he was busy and I wouldn’t stop interrupting—”

“My friend,” Phainon put a hand on your shoulder, his face all soft and apologetic you had to deal with such a bad man. “Even if busy, a right boyfriend wouldn’t raise his voice, as it signals anger issues if he’s snapping at something so simple. He would have remembered to not tighten lids in the first place, and be considerate of you having less strength or you being shorter. A boyfriend who cares is the boyfriend who knows you well.”

Phainon’s words were getting to you slowly, making you have second thoughts. What if you were naive and didn’t notice signs? You trusted Phainon, he’s never given you a reason to sabotage your happiness, so surely there must be some truth to his words… which doesn’t mean hearing it all was easy. You felt self conscious at the idea of letting yourself end up in such a bad relationship or being used. Tears blurrier your vision, threatening to fall.

“But… when I ended up losing my cat, he was there to comfort me! He definitely cares! He listened to me and did things for me so I could rest! He wouldn’t do that if he didn’t!”

Phainon shook his head gently, making his voice more serious, “He was using affection to get you attached in your vulnerable moments. That has to be true, considering he normally doesn’t show you much affection? He even acts all distant.”

“He’s just not that comfortable with being vulnerable, cause he had a difficult childhood! He still gets adjusted to opening up to me but we’re getting there!” you protested, but your efforts were starting to feel useless in your perspective. Phainon might really be right—if he didn’t mind easily showing you affection during your sad day, why wouldn’t he do so any other time?

“Emotionally unavailable people don’t change. They make relationships one sided! Aren’t you tired of making yourself vulnerable while he doesn’t give you anything in return?” he scolded gently, pulling you into his arms when you were finally crying. You didn’t protest, letting him rub your back. Phainon has never let you down, unlike your boyfriend, apparently. “I think you just want to ‘fix’ him. Yet this isn’t your role. You should find someone who makes you happy, rather than someone that you have to be responsible for! Relationship should make your life easier, not burdening. You have to say so many ‘buts’ to defend him; that should be enough concerning,” he added, his voice made cashmere to comfort you.

He felt all joy and relief when you ended up nodding into his chest. He’ll gladly show you what a boyfriend model should be, as no way in any universe he’d let you be with someone else. Phainon wholeheartedly believed that only he was meant for you, and that you can be the happiest with him only—he may as well be your soulmate.

Didn’t he know your needs the most? You could ask him what he thinks you’ve eaten yesterday and he’d have no problem guessing. You weren’t aware of the extent of his knowledge about you.

[sematarygirls]

 📖 ─── a cluttered scrapbook: send in any thoughts on any of the characters below for a blurb .ᐟ

omg hello congratulations??? literally love your blog sm. you’re writing is peak and so perf. i was thinking, we all know rafe is a “proactive” type of person (or so he says). so how would he react to reader giving him the silent treatment after she found out something? (maybe he was doing cocaine again after she explicitly asked him not to anymore???) and what antics would he use to get reader talking to him??

once again, congratulations to you. you deserve so much!!! so proud of you <3333

thank you so much !! i'm so sorry it took so long to get to this </3

cw: dark rafe, manipulation, controlling behavior, threats of self harm

Rafe hates the silent treatment. It feels like a slap in the face. After everything he's done for you, you can't even give him the basic respect of talking things out?

He had done a great job of hiding his ongoing cocaine addiction after you'd threatened to break up with him if he didn't stop. He absolutely couldn't stand ultimatums, being backed into a corner, but he also couldn't lose you, so he promised he would quit and get clean, even pretending to go off to a rehab facility for a month—during which he was actually going on a month-long bender in a fancy hotel up in California.

And his lies had worked. For months, he hid his addiction, leading you to believe that he was finally clean and that he had done it for you.

But then, you dropped your phone one night at his house, and it had found its way under his bed. Leaning down to retrieve it, you pushed up the bottom of his comforter and found yourself greeted by the sight of a wooden box you'd seen before—the very one you had watched Rafe throw away before he went off to "rehab".

With shaky hands, you opened the box and found yourself staring at a baggie of white powder, a substance you knew all too well.

"What are you doing?" Rafe's voice came from the doorway, sharp and defensive. He knew he had been caught, but his mind was already swirling with blame for you rather than accepting the consequences of his own actions. Why were you snooping around his room? Did you not trust him?

You looked up at him, your mind running a million miles a minute as a plethora of emotions overwhelmed you at once. You didn't want to talk to him. You could barely even stomach looking at him right now, so without a word, you grabbed your phone from where it had fallen and stood up abruptly.

He caught your arm as you tried to leave. "Oh, we're doing this now? Real mature," he scoffed at your behavior. You were being dramatic, childish even, by subjecting him to the silent treatment instead of trying to talk this out like adults.

You simply pulled your arm back from him roughly, not meeting his gaze as you pushed past him and hurried down the stairs. He should've followed you, but his pride and ego stopped him. You would come crawling back, apologizing for how you acted. He was sure of it.

But, you didn't. Days went by without a word, and he started to get antsy, started to spiral as paranoia overtook him. You were his. How dare you ignore him? Were you off with another guy? Were you with your awful Pogue friends? He couldn't stand not knowing where you were and having you with him every minute.

At first, he tried to manipulate his way out of it by feigning an apology and ending it with a guilt trip, texting you things like "Okay, I messed up, but you just shutting me out? That's fucked up. Just talk to me, baby," and "It's not like I was doing it all the time. I mean, cmon, are you really gonna throw everything away over this? It's nothing."

When you refused to be won over so easily, seeing right through his tactics, he would start showing up wherever you were—home, work, the beach, anywhere you were, he was there too, desperately trying to intimidate you into talking to him with his piercing gaze and menacing stance.

He would corner you, trying to force a reaction out of you. "So what, you're just going to act like I don't exist?" He'd ask harshly before softening, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his knuckle lightly grazing your cheek as he did. "C'mon, baby, I know you miss me, miss us." He could see the resolve in your eyes crumbling and it made him feel powerful and triumphant, but before you opened your mouth to speak, Kiara swept in, grabbing your arm and tugging you away from Rafe as she shot a glare in his direction.

This infuriated Rafe. Typical Pogue, always sticking their nose where it doesn't belong and fucking up his life.

From there, he attempted sending you expensive gifts with notes like "Just talk to me, baby. Let me fix this," and when that didn't work, he turned to threats, saying he would hurt himself or you if you didn't hear him out.

Finally, he showed up to your house in the middle of the night, his eyes bloodshot and puffy, pupils dilated. You hesitated but decided to open the door, and when you did, you felt guilty for ignoring him for so long. He looked absolutely wrecked like he hadn't eaten or slept in days. He was clenching and unclenching his jaw, leaning against the doorframe and peering down at you. His presence was heavy, the air thick with tension as neither of you spoke.

"Let me in," he demanded. His fingers twitched at his sides before he rubbed them over his jaw. "I just—fuck, I don’t even know what to do anymore, baby." His large frame blocked the doorway, making you feel small as his eyes darted wildly. You felt a mix of guilt and fear stir in your stomach. "You’re just gonna keep pretending I don’t exist? Really?" His voice dropped lower, rougher. "’Cause if you don’t talk to me now, I swear to God, I’ll—" He stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he stared at you with hardened eyes, the threat clear. You knew he meant it.

"Rafe..." You said quietly, your voice trembling slightly as you looked up at him with wide eyes, feeling like you were looking at someone you didn't recognize.

His lips quirked up in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “That’s all I needed, baby. Just needed to hear your voice," he whispered, stepping forward to invade your space and force you backward so he could come inside. "Y'know, I'd do anything for you, right?" He asked, the question rhetorical as he reached out to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "I’ve been losing my fucking mind without you. I won't lose you. I can't lose you, alright? I-I need you. You're mine, you got that? You can't just walk away. You can't just ignore me. I won't let you."

[morteisshipping]

Development of Sung Hyunjae-ssi

From this:

"I treasure you quite a lot, Han Yoojin-gun, but." Along with the words slowly spilling out, Sung Hyunjae's grip closed around my neck. Then he lightly pulled me to his side. [...] Without Fear Resistance, the gaze boring into me as if to pierce inside would undoubtedly have given me chills. No, I might've been struck by terror even more than that and avoided it. But I could face him head on without a tremble. It wasn't normal, but that was why it was a relief. "It's not to the point of giving up part of my body." "Do you really think that way? When it isn't your life, but only an arm and an eye? Sung Hyunjae-ssi, there are still many things I'm hiding." My lips curved in a smile. "So it'll be more fun from now on."

chapter 101: Cursed Contract

To this:

A large figure holding on to me, whose face I couldn't see in detail. If I didn't have Fear Resistance, I'd be scared stiff. "Your eyes." Sung Hyunjae's hand came close as if to touch my eyes. "Is this because of me?" "Technically speaking, it is. I'll recover as I did before, you don't need to worry." "I don't think you can see at all." I don't like having a debt like this, Sung Hyunjae murmured. Still, it was better than Chief Song-nim giving his life. "Take my right eye." "Excuse me?" "Since I've already staked it once." [...] "I'll leave the left eye to the young master." "I mean, why is our Yoohyun-ie even come up here?" "Because if I kept you all for myself, he'd undoubtedly be angry. The young master will be happy to do for you." That... um, I thought he actually would, so I was even more freaked out. I pushed Sung Hyunjae, sitting upright. [...] "There's no need. I'm started to be able to detect light, and even if I can't see forever, other's eyes... uh, I won't need them. I'll just get a monster to be my eyes and raise them." Even now, using the Teacher's skill wasn't that inconvenient. "Besides, if you lose one of your eyes, won't your combat ability diminished? Why would you take such a loss because of me?" "If I had to choose, I'd choose you, Han Yoojin-gun."

chapter 314: It's a Holiday

From unwilling and threatening, that he didn't like Yoojin that much to stake an arm and an eye, to very willingly offering his eyes to a currently blind Yoojin, and this happens on a bed. On. A. Bed.

[yunpupu]

All In | K.HJ

Hongjoong x f!reader

Warning: 18+

Genre:

• Smut / Erotic Romance

• Gambling & High-Stakes Tension

• Dom/Sub Dynamics

• Mild Dirty Talk & Power Play

Word Count: 1,150 words.

Summary: After a heated night at the casino, you and Hongjoong make a daring bet—winner takes all. When he comes out victorious, he takes you back to his penthouse to claim his prize. What starts as playful teasing quickly turns into something much darker and more intoxicating as he reminds you exactly who’s in control. With his dominant touch and filthy words, losing to Hongjoong might be the best gamble you’ve ever made.

The casino was alive with opulence—the rich scent of aged whiskey, the glimmer of golden lights reflecting off velvet tables, and the sound of money exchanging hands in a high-stakes game of fortune. But none of that mattered. Not when Hongjoong sat across from you, his gaze burning into yours, a devilish smirk playing at his lips.

You had been going back and forth all night, each win and loss raising the tension between you two. Hongjoong was dangerous with his confidence, his ring-clad fingers tapping rhythmically against his stack of chips.

“You wanna make this more interesting?” His voice was smooth, but there was an underlying hunger in his tone.

You raised a brow. “What do you have in mind?”

“If I win…” He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. “You come home with me. And you let me do whatever I want to you.”

Heat pooled between your thighs, but you kept your face neutral. “And if I win?”

His smirk widened. “Then I’ll be at your mercy.”

It was a gamble—a dangerous, thrilling one—but the way Hongjoong was looking at you had already sealed your fate.

“Deal.”

The final cards were revealed, and your stomach twisted. A flush. Hongjoong’s fucking flush.

He leaned back, exhaling dramatically. “Looks like you’re mine tonight, sweetheart.”

*time skip*

The second you stepped into Hongjoong’s penthouse, he was on you.

His lips crashed against yours, rough and needy, as he pushed you back against the door. His hands gripped your waist, fingers digging in possessively, pressing you so close you could feel the hardness in his jeans.

“You really thought you could beat me?” he murmured against your lips, his voice teasing but laced with dark amusement.

“I could have,” you whispered, refusing to back down even as his knee pushed between your thighs, forcing them apart.

“Lying won’t save you now.” He grabbed your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “I won. And that means you’re mine tonight.”

Your breath hitched as he spun you around, pressing your chest against the cool wall. His hands roamed your body, sliding up your dress, fingers ghosting over your thighs before yanking your panties down in one swift motion.

“You’re already wet,” he chuckled, dragging two fingers through your slick folds before teasing your entrance. “Did losing turn you on that much?”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer. But your silence only made him more determined.

His fingers plunged inside you without warning, curling just right, pressing against that spot that made your legs tremble. You gasped, hands splaying against the wall for support as he fucked you with his fingers, slow and deliberate.

“Come on, baby,” he purred, his free hand snaking around to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your head spin. “Let me hear you.”

A soft moan escaped your lips, and Hongjoong smirked. “That’s better.”

He pulled his fingers out, bringing them to your lips. “Suck.”

Your tongue flicked out, tasting yourself as you took his fingers into your mouth, sucking obediently. His eyes darkened, watching you with pure lust.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl when you want to be.”

In one swift motion, he flipped you around, lifting you onto the nearest surface—the sleek marble countertop. He unbuckled his belt, yanking his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock.

Your breath caught in your throat. He was thick, the tip already glistening with precum, veins prominent as he stroked himself lazily.

“Lie back,” he commanded.

You obeyed, your legs falling open as he lined himself up, rubbing his tip against your entrance, teasing.

“Beg for it,” he smirked, gripping your thighs.

Your pride almost made you refuse—but the ache between your legs was unbearable.

“Please, Hongjoong,” you whimpered. “I need you.”

That was all he needed.

With a sharp thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you deliciously as a choked moan left your lips. His hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he set a ruthless pace, each thrust hitting deeper, harder.

“Fuck—so tight,” he growled, his rings digging into your skin as he slammed into you. “You feel so fucking good.”

Your nails raked down his back as he leaned over you, his breath hot against your lips. “You’re mine tonight, remember that.”

His thrusts grew erratic, your moans filling the air as pleasure built deep inside you. His hand slipped between your bodies, fingers rubbing circles on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Come for me,” he murmured against your lips, biting down on your bottom lip. “Be a good girl and fucking come for me.”

With a cry, you unraveled beneath him, pleasure washing over you in waves as your walls clenched around him. He groaned, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside you, spilling his release with a guttural moan.

For a moment, the only sound was your heavy breathing, your bodies still tangled together.

Then, Hongjoong smirked down at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Next time you make a bet with me, sweetheart…” he murmured, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to your lips.

“Make sure you’re ready to lose.”

Special thanks to my lovely cutie pie for this idea aka @no1-likeme !!

[winniethewife]

Pixel Perfect (III x Reader)

A/n: A Silly little Idea that @stellasplendens and I were talking about and I decided to write into reality, As Always if you want to hear me shout into the void about this band (And others) Please follow me over at @lyricallymelodic

Tags: Bestfriend!III, And they were Roommates, StreamerToken!AU, Sillies,

Ao3 link

Disclaimer: All fan fic written by me for this fandom is based on a fictional depiction of the personas of the band members, no real people were perceived in the making of this fiction.  

Words:1271

III always beat you at videogames. It didn’t matter what game, Halo, Fortnight, Mario Kart, it even felt like games you were supposed to be on the same team he somehow managed to find a way to beat you. You supposed it probably had something to do with gaming being his actual profession. He and the guys donning masks and streaming games together online had managed to garner them a small but loyal fanbase. It also paid half of rent, so could you really be mad about it?

Yes.

Yes you can still be mad about it.

You had decided that as, for what felt like the hundredth time, he got first in Mario Kart… Again. You sighed deeply and put your controller on the coffee table.

“You’ve got to be cheating, No one is this good at fuckin’ Mario Kart.” You groan as you watch him set up the next round, taking a long sip from the can of soda you had mostly finished before the two of you had started. III laughed, a familiar heartwarming sound, and yet so very annoying in the moment.

“No one except me love, call me the Mario Kart expert.” He chortles as he picked out his favorite character (Waluigi) and messed with the settings on his kart for a moment while you looked at him side eyed.

“I’m gonna just call you a Jackass, it means the same thing really.” You teased, your voice only betraying a hint of how bitter you actually felt. III chuckles and shugs.

“Whatever, Ready Player two?” He grinned at you, and suddenly you had a brilliant idea.

“Yeah, ready Player one.” You picked up your controller and got ready for your plot. Just as the two of you rounded the first corner you moved your shoulder and shoved him to the side. He was entirely unaffected. He rasied an eyebrow at you before leaning over to shove you back with a cheeky smile on his face. Oh it was on. For the whole of that race the pushing and shoving continues, and somehow he’s still winning! The next race you try a little harder, throwing pillows at his face, at one point shoving his face down in the pile of cushions and blankets at the end of the couch and sitting on him just to keep him down. He wasn’t even looking at the screen and he was winning! At this point you were just confused, how the hell is he doing that?

“Give up yet Love?” he asked with a laugh as Waluigi took his victory lap around the screen.

“Yeah, actually! Fuck you! I’m not gonna play with you anymore.” You huffed, handing him the controller before you did something stupid and throw it. You walk off to let off some steam in your room. III figured you were just mad, you would be back to playing together tomorrow. Right?

~

Little did he know that you were so serious about what you had said? You were done losing all the time. So when you got home at the end of your shift you decided to grab a book from your “to be read” pile and curled up in bed to read. About an hour or so later III was knocking on your door and peaking his head in.

“Hey, I just finished streaming wanna play a couple rounds of-” he started to speak before you held up your hand.

“I don’t play with cheaters.” You stated simply. He scoffed.

“This again? I don’t cheat love, I just play games a lot and better. Now c’mon let’s play a bit.” He shrugged off your remark and expected you to just come running back? The audacity!

“Nah, I’m reading.” You lift your book as if to make a point before turning your gaze back to the words on the page. You could practically hear the way his head tilted in confusion. This was your thing! Two best friends that live together and play games! It was a whole part of the reason the two of you living together worked out so well, you had most of the same interests, and you enjoyed doing them together.

“Alright, uh, I’ll just um…go do…something else.” He muttered dejectedly. III was flabbergasted. You had been friends for years, played games like this for as long as he could remember. You were one of his first supporters to start his career, you were the one who convinced him to quit his job at the record store where you still worked in order to pursue streaming full time. You were so damn close it felt almost sacrilegious to not spend the evening together. III slumped onto the couch and twiddled his thumbs for a while before deciding to go ahead and putting something on the T.V. for background noise as he sat and thought.

~

The next couple days seemed normal, you would leave for your job at the record shop and III would start his stream. The after bit was the part that was still off. He would finish his stream and come to your door knocking to see if you wanted to play and you would say no, and that you don’t play with cheaters. It was the third night that he was so desperate figure out how to get your attention that he was willing to try anything. He would analyze why he was so desperate for this little bit of affection at a later date. He ended his stream an hour early, drove into town and got take out from your favorite restaurant, and two pints of Ice cream from the local Ice cream parlor. When you got home you were greeted by the sight of III already sitting with two Joy-cons in hand, Mario Kart loaded up, and the take out already dished out on the coffee table. You looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Did I forget our anniversary or something?” You teased. III tried his best to laugh it off but there was a weird flutter in his chest at the idea. Not the point, need to focus.

“No, nothing like that…I’m just gonna prove to you that I’m not cheating.” He said as indignantly as he could muster. You shook your head.

“Alright, show me.” You walk past him, taking the controller in your hand and sitting down on the couch. III sat next to you and after setting everything up the game begun. At first it seemed business as usual, he won the first race no issue. Then when the next race started he kept getting hit with different items, slowing him down and causing him to fall to second place, then the next race he was in fourth, muttering and cussing under his breath as he lost again and again. You had it figured out, he was letting you win, and despite how much it truly irked him to lose you couldn’t help but notice the slight smirk pulling at the corner of his lip. He rather keep losing than not play with you at all.  You feel that familiar warmth in your chest as the night goes on. Soon the two of you are eating ice cream and he’s talking about how maybe the two of you should play Mario Kart less often. And you agreed. You kind of wanted to see how many games he could pretended to be bad at to win your favor.

The answer was as many as it would take, and however long until you both realized that this was more than friendship.

~

Masterlist

Taglist: @silvernight-m @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @stellasplendens @ierofrnkk

[feinyan]

I need more Damon's boyfriend text....or whatever. anything, I'm starving for a Damon content 😭😭

ROMANCE TROPE featuring. damon maitsu, kai monteago and wolfgang akire

more below the cut .. no texts but this has damon so.

# damon maitsu

hear me out on .. sort of enemies to lovers with the ultimate debater himself ?? damon and you who bicker constantly, always comparing and teasing amongst yourselves.

i can see damon thinking of you as someone lower than him, someone whose time shouldnt occupy his own oh-so important time. i mean, he has soooo much more important things to focus on. but eugh, your conflicts, your constant bickering, led to … weird, thrilling feelings, something that led to wanting more. this need grew overwhelmingly frustrating, which interrupted his thoughts. his mind could no longer find itself hyper focused on debating and studying despite his best attempts, because now, he always found that you were somewhere in the back of his mind. small reminders of you would spark a disruption within his head, one that led him to feel a hot, annoyed feeling in his chest.

pushing the tip of your finger into his shirt, you tilted your head to the side, a smug grin tugging at your lips.

“oh! would you look at that. what happened to your cocky attitude? not so confident now huh, mr debater?” you’d hummed, a sheet of paper firmly held within your fingers, waving it back and forth in front of his eyes. he’d narrowed his eyes in exchange, gaze flickering between your own and the wall behind you.

a huff escaping his lips, he’d finally regained his composure, his flustered face cooled down at least a little. “.. oh shut up, you managed to finally get a grade higher than me, congrats.” his muttering was sarcastic, clasping his fingers around your wrists and pulling them away from himself.

“for once? im pretty sure last exam i—“

“.. yeah yeah, that’s enough from you.” he’d interrupted, letting go of your wrists and instead throwing a hand over your mouth to prevent your sentence from being finished. with a muffled protest, you raised an arm to tug at the hand covering your lips with a struggle. damon couldn’t help but snicker at this, eyes making contact with your own helpless ones. finally managing to pull his hand away, you took a step back, annoyance apparent in your face.

turning around, prepared to make your way to your next class, you paused in place for a moment. “start focusing on your grades more, you’ve been lazy recently.”

a sigh from damon could be heard from behind you, accompanied by the shuffling of his pants. probably him putting his hands in his pockets. with a grumble, he responded. “it was by 4%. i’ve been busy with other things.”

“hmm, do you need encouragement? let me think,”

he remained quiet.

“if you get a higher grade than me on the next assignment, you can take me out on a date.”

“… the- huh? the hell?” he stammered, for a second, he was almost certain he’d heard wrong. but when you only replied with a giggle, beginning to make your way through the hallway, your words were surely made clear. gross. he didn’t know how that made him feel, yet a hot feeling began to consume his insides at the thought you’d offered into his mind, one that tugged at his heart — a feeling he disliked. one that pissed him off. he’d remained quiet in place, mouth slightly hung open as he watched you skip off all innocently. yet the pounding in both his chest and head was one that he couldn’t stay quiet about.

“you idiot .. y/n, wait up.”

# kai monteago

kai is the biggest secret dating troupe ever .. do you hear me. hello. guys. please hello!!!

kai — who shouldn’t have a partner to begin with. his fans are .. pretty obsessive to say the least, and getting a partner would totally make him lose popularity! therefor, when he met you, despite how desperately he wanted to show you off to the world, he was pestered until he finally agreed to keep it silent. his conflicting feelings though, were ones he never shut up about.

“… kaaaai,” you muttered, stretching out your body in attempts to free yourself from his tight grasp. it didn’t work. he clung to you harder, wet lips pressing against your cheek and lips time after time. this drew a giggle from your lips, turning your head to the side so you’d have the opportunity to speak.

though, kai spoke first.

“babyyyyy! i couldn’t kiss you aaaall day! let me have this!” a dramatic whine arose from him, burying his head into the crook of your neck with a huff. a sigh left your throat as you placed your head atop his own, rubbing his back with your hand.

“.. you’re such a baby, kai.”

# wolfgang akire

im not really sure but maybe arranged marriage ?? the idea of the uncomfortable, awkward feeling of marrying someone who you don’t know, yet wolfgangs display of kindness and tender actions despite the situation slowly causing you two to form a sweet bond. things like cooking you breakfast every morning no matter how early he’d have to wake up, buying you little gifts and treating you even though he doesnt need to.

sitting across from wolfgang, you kept your eyes on the food. an awkward silence always lingered whenever the two of you shared a meal together, yet slowly but surely, its been getting lighter.

“did you enjoy the breakfast id made you this morning?” his words came off in a gentle tone, interrupting the silence between the two of you. lifting your head, your eyes immediately met his eyes. eyes that were already staring at your own, and had probably been for awhile now.

taking a moment to respond, you nodded with a smile. “yeah, thank you, i really like strawberries.” you’d hummed a cheery response. he gave a smile in exchange to your last comment.

“is that so? i’ll try to include them in more of your meals then.”

a kind offer, but you shook your head. “.. ah, you don’t have to make me meals. you wake up really early for it. i do appreciate it a lot but—“

he cut you off with a shake of his own head.

“no need, you’re my spouse, its the least i could do.”

@ feinyan

[carefreecoffee]

: ̗̀➛Fluffbruary Day 9: Snow w/Kirishima Eijirou: ̗̀➛

Word count: 863, Gender-Neutral reader

The snow has finally fallen! You and Kirishima had been waiting all winter for this and thankfully, Jack Frost delivered. You had been happily creating a rather large snowman, the effort evident. Kiri pick’s up a snowball, molding it to perfection before throwing it at you, hitting the side of your face. Quickly, he covers his mouth trying not to laugh, thinking he’d get in trouble for the harmless fun.

You pause your movements, eyes wide in shock as you crane your neck to look at him. You slide the back of your mitted hand across your face, swiping the powdery snow off and away. “You're gonna get it now!” you swiftly take the head off of the snowman, the ball of snow packed and ready as you charge toward him.

Kirishima’s eyes go wide with a look of absolute panic as you chase him. In his attempted escape, he ends up slipping on some ice, falling onto his back. He struggles to get up as he desperately tries to crawl away, his face is completely beat red at this point.

You throw the poor snowmans head directly down at him, the snow cold on his exposed neck and now running down the gap in his coat. The mass amount of snowy coldness hits his skin, causing him to shiver and jerk. As it gets into his jacket, Kirishima starts to shiver more, quickly starting to shake the snow away from his body. Eventually he manages to get up, his body shaking and teeth chattering “y-you’re so m-mean…” He says as he rubs his hands together to warm himself up. He glanced at you with a fake pout.

You can't help but double over laughing as your cheeks tinted red. “Haha! Aw sorry Kiri, too cold for ya?” 

“Heeeeeeey!” he whines before sticking his tongue out. He stomps over to you, grabbing some snow as he takes advantage of your giggling mess, shoving it in your face as you practically did his.  “Payback.”

You push his arm away, the cold snow tingling on your face. You greedily scoop up more snow into your palms, blindly aiming at each other. After a bit of back and forth, he suddenly grabs a large amount of snow and pushes it into you, knocking you over until you lose your balance, falling into the vat of snow beneath you. “HA! Take that!” He says triumphantly with a large smile on his face. He stands over you with his hands on his hips, smiling wide as ever. After a hot second, he notices that you don’t get up. His brows furrowed a bit out of worry “Uh… are you alright?” He kneels down and looks at you, his hand going to reach toward the scarf that concealed your face during the fall.

Next thing he knows, snow is shoveled into his face once more. “HEY! NOOO” He cries out in shock. He falls onto his back, wiping his face as fast as he can “Not fair! Not fair at all!” Your giggles fill the air, attempting to get up. However, the ice had other plans, bringing you down once more with a grunt. “Hey! Be careful!” he shouts, “Ice… is very slippery y’know.” He says, stating the obvious. He slowly gets up and goes over to you, holding a hand out.

You huff at the obvious comment, taking his hand and pushing yourself up. “No shit huh” Kiri smiles sheepishly, embarrassed by his previous comment “Hey! You don’t gotta be sassy with me…” He starts to rub his thumb gently across the back of your hand, a soft mention of affection. “I’m just trying to help… I don’t want you to get hurt because I wasn’t paying attention y’know?”

You glance at him, your cheeks red from the cold, snow still evident on your eyelashes “I know i know, but i knew i could rough you up even a little a bit” His heart thumps in his chest as he glances over your face. He feels his face start to heat up at the image of your cute face in the snow. He grins, looking back down at you 

“Oh yeah? And just what part of me have you roughed up…?” You point out his reddened, snow kissed face. “A good amount I'd say, sure got you shivering” He groans playfully at you pointing out his shivering “Hey! It got in my jacket- it’s cold, you can’t blame me for having a normal human reaction!” He says playfully, letting go of your hand to rub his arms to warm himself up. 

“Yeah yeah i get it” You glance back over at the now decapitated snowman, feeling just a bit of pity for the thing. “Uhh we should probably give him his head back” He nods, turning to look at the poor thing. He lets out a snort and nods with a stifled laugh “Yeah we should…”

After a bit of a truce, the snowman was put together once more. Both of your efforts showed through the care that the snow was carved with. Maybe you could finally forgive him for all of his frozen torture.

Just this once.