#they are a pain in the ass to clean. they are ugly! THEY ARE UGLY AND BORING

[happywitch416]

I'd like to meet the creator of mini blinds. I just wanna talk!

[bi-writes]

ghost is off limits. not just emotionally or romantically, but physically. you have seen the aftermath of when someone so much as bumps into him or brushes past his arm in a tight hallway. they learn very quickly that lieutenant riley isn't to be touched, not even a little, not at all. (18+)

ohhhh but not for the medic. your touch is clinical. necessary. ordered. ghost glares, but he does not tell you to go away when you make your way into captain price's office. it's late; they just touched down not even ten minutes ago, exhausted and burdened by an op that took a few weeks of their absence.

he smells like sweat, like grime, and you can taste the sand in the air when you take a seat next to him. even seated, he is taller than you. he takes up a ridiculous amount of space, dwarfing the office chair he sits in. you set your kit down on your captain's desk, turning to face your lieutenant.

"uhm...could you show it to me?"

he huffs in annoyance before he pulls his tactical vest over his head, tossing it onto the floor. you swallow, blinking, focusing, as he unzips the jacket he wears and lets it fall at his feet. your lips part a little as he reveals the strength of his arms, tight muscles straining against the shirt he wears and showing off the sleeve of ugly military tattoos that are sunburnt along one arm.

gorgeous, giant man, but then your eyes take interest on the nasty gash along one arm, a jagged wound that stretches nearly from shoulder to elbow. it looks angry and irritated, much like the look in his eyes.

when you put your hands on him for the first time, he flinches. not because he is in pain, but the feeling of skin against skin is so foreign, like a wound of its own. you blink up at him, soft and sweet, and you show him your hands, what you're doing with them.

"just going to clean it out and stitch you up, lieutenant. promise i won't take too long."

but he likes it. the way your soft palm cups his scarred forearm, running a cloth over the lines of blood that trace along the length to his wrist and drip onto the floor. the warm drag of your fingers pushing his skin together so you can hook the needle through and stitch him up solid and effectively. those easy, gentle strokes, threading through skin as you would hem a skirt, a pattern that you have not forgotten that is now being weaved onto his very body.

he'll wear your stitch pattern like a patch he has so dutifully earned. and you will wear his marks just the same, yes she will, the good girl that she is.

when you finish, he grunts, flexing his fist to gauge the tautness of his skin and the way the wound burns as he stretches his arm. he tilts his head to the side, glaring. your hands rest easy there, still pressed up against him, and he nods at you expectantly.

"open y'r mouth, sergeant."

and you do. because he's your lieutenant, and he has given you an order. he hikes his mask up, revealing a disgusting grin and the sharp edge of a torn lip, a face mangled beyond recognition. when he spits in your mouth, he tastes just as you expected--like sand and smoke.

"now swallow."

and you do, but not because he's your lieutenant, it's something else, something more. not afraid, but intrigued, somehow not put off, but needing sustenance.

when he crowds you in the infirmary later that night, you don't understand. you don't understand the sudden need to touch, the way he grips your ass, the nasty way he bites at your jaw and pushes your pants down your thighs and puts his cock between your thighs.

he promises he won't fuck you, promises he'll be nice this time, but it's hard to discern between reality and heaven when he lets the tip catch on your clit with every frantic stroke. you squeak with every rough thrust, pressing your ass against his pelvis as you arch your back, wanting to see his face, wanting to kiss him, wanting to make this tender and soft and a little romantic, but that isn't ghost.

ghost is mean. ghost isn't a giver, he's a taker. ghost is made of sharp edges only, broken glass on all sides, it's such a shame his cock is so nice and so big and so good, lieutenant, please, i need it--

"need more," is what you beg, even though you know he can't give it to you. you know, but he does it anyway, he slips a big hand between your thighs and opens you up, and you cry when he finally sinks deep, hoisting you up, your back tight against his chest as he learns how quiet the voices in his head are when he's so deep in your pretty, pretty pussy.

he slips another hand around your throat, baring it, giving himself room so he can bite at your neck and lick over the salt and brand you with the evidence of the reprieve he refuses to give, but you don't care, all you can do is smile.

you know his secrets now, the things he would never tell, the things he can't say out loud.

it's almost frightening that you don't really care if he has to kill you to keep you quiet.

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Neighborly (Part 3/Ending)

mdni

Masterlist

Soap x reader x Ghost

Summary: You didn't know hate until Johnny MacTavish. (Or a really big build-up to cuddles and smut).

Warnings: SMUT, vaguely dom Ghost, unrealistic recovery time from near death experience/hypothermia, cuddling for medical reasons, implied medically-related stripping, implied anxiety disorder/depressive disorder, self-isolation, language, incredibly shitty communication and social competence.

The next day, Ghost had you write a list of things you needed from home. He assured you Johnny wouldn’t be stepping foot in your place, but that did leave you on your own with the Scotsman while the giant lumbered through the snow to pack an overnight bag on your behalf.

Your extremities still had fits of unpleasant tingles, but when Ghost examined your hands and feet, he assured you there shouldn’t be permanent damage. First degree frost bite at worst. He praised your choice in winter boots, thick socks, and heavy mittens.

You’d asked how he knew.

“Had some experience. Nothing to worry about. Trust me.”

Instantly flustered, you’d looked down at the huge socks over your hands, fighting away the question of which man they belonged to, and assured him you did. Stupid, since you barely knew him, but you did, and much more than you should.

It didn’t matter if the man was handsome under that mask or ugly as sin. His voice did things to you. It made you want to sin so much he looked like an angel. And the way he handled you in bed, if only platonically, woke your libido from hibernation. Which was un-fucking-fortunate, all things considered. You’d be a horrible lay at the moment with your chapped skin and lingering exhaustion.

Besides, your neighbors were definitely in a relationship.

As you dozed after a cup of sugary tea, Ghost stepped away to speak with Johnny. You could see through the open door when the big man seized his partner by the back of the neck, leaning forehead-to-forehead as he rumbled something in that intoxicating voice. The mask didn’t come off, but you’d definitely spied a tongue stretching the knit to stab into Johnny’s mouth. Hands went to waists, drifted to asses, displayed affection they probably didn’t realize was so public.

You tried very hard to actually go to sleep after that. It wasn’t like you’d meant to creep on them. And they were the ones who chose to make out in front the invalid’s open damn door.

But it put your thoughts in a tailspin, and everything overwhelmed you. A near death experience preceded by robbery and car problems made for a long day. Waking up in your neighbor’s boyfriend’s arms and realizing they’d seen you naked took the knot of emotions and twisted. Then there was the fact that Ghost was likely elbow deep in your underwear drawer – again for platonic reasons – and it wound you up in the worst way. You were a fucking mess. A wad of feelings without an outlet.

You needed to get off and have a good cry. Either or both. And you weren’t in a position to have either.

When you’d suggested going home, Ghost shut you down before you even finished the thought.

“We’ll take care of you. Owe you, yeah? Besides, you’re still recovering.”

So, you wrote the damn list, asking for your comfy clothes, your toothbrush, phone charger, and other necessities. You resisted asking for your favorite throw blanket or the heavy, knitted monstrosity you tried knitting a few years back that was almost a sweater. Nothing you loved was safe around Johnny, and you didn’t want to be a burden, anyway.

Fuck.

Right.

You were a burden.

When you felt a bit better, you’d handle the empty mugs on the nightstand. What else could you clean? Efficient as Ghost was, he was babysitting for two adults. There must be a mess to clean, laundry to fold, something.

You’d make it right. When you’d put some distance between your waking thoughts and death’s shadow.

Trying to think your way out of the lingering pain with your thighs clenched and your glare drilling into the far wall, you almost managed to dissociate for a beat.

Until he knocked.

“Hey.”

Fucking Johnny.

You rolled over, glowering with the blankets up to your nose. Ghost should hurry and come back.

“’M so sorry, hen.” Failing to take the hint, Johnny inched into the room. His folded arms and heavy frown left him looking severe. The boyish illusion was missing. He was all bulging muscles, faint scars, and dog tags.

You’d wondered more than once if he was military. If he was, you’d bet anything Ghost was, too.

“I almost died,” you mumbled, speaking through the blankets. “I would’ve helped with whatever you needed if you’d fucking asked.”

His eyes snapped shut. His head dropped. Deep breaths lifted his shoulders, and he looked like he was in genuine pain.

Good. That made two of you.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Aye.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Aye.”

“You almost got me killed.”

“Aye.” Eyes wide, hands pressed to the foot of the bed, he towered over you, bubbling over. “I’ll make it up to you. Whatever it takes.”

He was practically panting, trying to escape his guilt. Just one more thing he wanted from you: absolution. A knight seeking a quest of atonement.

If he could take away the memories of betrayal and isolation as you felt your mind break and your body fail, that would work. You almost found enough spite in your heart to say it.

“I thought we were friends.” Half confession, half accusation.

“We are, bonnie, I swear –”

“No, we’re not.”

He clenched the blankets, white-knuckled with wet eyes that promised rain.

“Bonnie –”

“Stand down, Soap.”

You both turned to find Ghost peering in from the hall. He held a duffel bag, lightly dusted in snow that hadn’t quite stopped falling. Doordash had arrived with your order.

He set the bag on the end of the bed, nudging Johnny aside and nodding towards the open door. Johnny got the message, slinking out with his tail between his legs.

“Brought your things. Feel up to a shower? It would probably help at this stage. I’ll set out some towels for you.”

“Thanks.” You ignored Johnny, grateful for the escape Ghost offered from both the conversation and the room. “That sounds great.”

“I’ll get things sorted, then.”

He left you to choose your things from the bag, disappearing into the ensuite you had yet to explore. You got what you needed. Toiletries. Robe. Toothbrush. Just the basics. You’d address your hair later. And… everything else, really. You weren’t ready to see your clothes sitting folded in a tidy pile on your neighbors’ bathroom counter, even less so on their bed.

Ghost reappeared, and he pointed out the towels he’d prepared. “Assume your shower’s like ours.”

“Probably. Thanks.” Again. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“Take your time.”

A nice sentiment, but you really couldn’t. You practically jumped out of your borrowed clothes as the water heated, and you got in when it was just north of tepid. You would not use all their hot water. By now, they had to be running on generator power. The power always went out for a day or two when the big one hit. All it took was one tree.

Still, once the sweat and stress-stink washed off, your hand lingered over your chest, an echo of your host’s. He hadn’t gotten frisky. He’d been entirely respectful. But if his hand had strayed even a little…

Or a lot.

Shit. Fuck. No.

You could not get off in your neighbors’ shower. That was out of the question. Even if they didn’t hear you, it was… rude.

Your core ached, stirred from passive aggression to full on fit by the water and your overactive imagination.

Enough. You were clean. You needed to stop.

So you finished your shower (and nothing else) in record time. You wrapped yourself in your robe, wondering if Ghost had packed any sports bras comfortable enough to sleep in.

Both men were waiting for you when you emerged.

“Uh…” Were you supposed to get dressed in the bathroom? Shit. You should’ve…

“Thought it was about time you got that apology,” Ghost said. He stepped closer. His fingertips brushed over the back of your hand, conjuring goosebumps like magic. “You’re cold again.”

“I’m fine.”

“Oh, aye.” Johnny winked. Caught himself. Cleared his throat. “Really am sorry. Wanna prove it. First step towards reparations, aye?”

He inched closer as he spoke, and Ghost stepped back to give him space. You held your ground, but only out of confusion. You technically had more skin covered than you had since they rescued you, but you were hyper aware of the loose knot holding the robe closed.

“What did you have in mind?”

Tea? A year’s subscription to a meal delivery service? A note?

His eyes flicked to your lips. “Thought I could warm you up.”

Your brain sputtered. It even made a sound like your engine had when it ran out of gas.

“I don’t think I understand.”

“I think you do.”

He wasn’t touching you. Yet. But his breath fanned over your lips. His body heat reached through your robe.

His partner was in the fucking room. “You’re in a relationship.”

“Already discussed it.”

You turned to Ghost, shocked, but he was relaxed. Almost casual about his boyfriend seducing the neighbor in his bedroom.

“We both like ya, bonnie,” Johnny whispered in your ear.

You shivered.

It sounded like such a bad idea.

But you wanted it. You wanted a real apology, and a reason to forget it all ever happened.

“How about it?” Johnny was hovering. Waiting for the green light. “Let us make you feel good?”

One more time, you looked to Ghost. You had to be sure. You wanted his permission. His confirmation. He nodded. So did you.

With one hand on your cheek, drawing your attention back to him, and one on the back of your neck, your neighbor pressed you into a kiss. There was no demure pecking. No sweet warm-up. Lips, tongue, and teeth leapt into the fray at the first trumpet blast.

A gasp gave him a window of opportunity, and soon you were eagerly kissing him back, yanking on his stupid mohawk for vengeance and a pitiful attempt at control.

Johnny licked a moan out of your mouth. He scoured your whimpers clean, gulping them down with a happy rumble.

“The best apologies are given on your knees, don’t you think Johnny?”

A silent exchange passed between the men, and Johnny was all smiles.

“Couldn’t agree more. Here, sit down, pretty girl.” He arranged you on the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees to keep the kisses coming. He plucked the robe’s knot free and tugged it open. His lips stayed on yours as fabric fell away from your shoulders, legs, and chest, pooling around your wrists. There was no time for the usual, momentary panic of finding yourself naked for the first time with a new romantic partner.

One more peck, and a whispered, “Lie back, bonnie.” And he was working down your sternum, pushing your knees apart. “Gonnae give you an apology you never forget.”

The apology came letter by letter, spelled through your folds. The S snaked around your entrance, looping over your clit. The O stayed there, spinning around your bud. The Rs wandered, following the O’s path before tracing each side of your entrance. The Y started at your base and swept up, teasing either side of your clit in turns.

He said it over and over again. The clever rhythm had him smiling against you as you tugged at his mohawk, trying to chase each sensation. But his hands were strong, and he kept you spread and stationary. At the mercy of his repentance.

The Os never circled long enough, and his tongue dipped inside just enough to remind you how much you ached for more on every Y.

It was driving you crazy, and tears of frustration gathered, blurring his self-satisfied gaze. You’d had it with him. Even when he went down on you, he took his own pleasure first, playing games you had no spoons left to enjoy. You wanted him to take care of you like he’d promised. You wanted to lose yourself. Wanted to feel desired. Wanted to feel good.

Your whining plea didn’t sound at all sexy to your own ears, but the way the tongue shook with suppressed laughter between your legs proved someone was having a good time.

Solid heat you’d learned to recognize in your sleep slipped up behind you. Long, thick fingers petted back your sweaty hair, and a hand pulled you back, urging you to relax into a solid chest. Ghost, once again coming your rescue.

“Be good, Johnny,” he rumbled. “Stop teasing.”

Eyes glinting, your tormentor’s face appeared. He licked his lips with a wolf’s fervor, eyes flashing from yours to Ghost’s.

“Yes, sir.” His voice had gone rough. Deep. You shuddered, and he squeezed your thighs. “Mind givin’ me a hand, LT?”

Ghost huffed, almost a dry laugh, and his hands left you. You had a mind to complain again, but then his grip appeared under your knees, lifting and spreading even farther than Johnny wheedled earlier. You were obscene. You were desperate.

“You doing alright? Let us make you feel better. Give Johnny the chance to start paying you back for all the trouble he’s caused, yeah?”

One hand clamped onto his arm, unsure whether you planned to push it away or simply cling on. As you vacillated, Johnny craned forward, blew on you, and you spasmed. Your free hand jumped back to Ghost’s balaclava, and you knew what you wanted.

“Yeah. I’m alright. Please.”

“You heard the woman.”

“Happy to serve.” Johnny grinned, nearly feral, and lunged forward with fresh determination.

Now free, his fingers pulled you open, giving him better access to the mess he’d made with all his teasing. His tongue pressed hard, spearing deep as it could reach. It worked relentlessly, trying to scoop out every last drop, but the slick only grew, and he returned to your clit.

Ghost held you at an angle that defied your attempts to ride Johnny’s face, and you turned into a twitching, writhing mass in his lap. When his partner started suckling your bud, you shrieked, and Ghost crooned. His thumbs worked circles in your flesh, soothing the edge of delirium rising with your pleasure.

“Good girl. There you go. Finally letting us take care of you.”

A finger pressed inside, petting and curling as it hunted for the right spot. Every muscle rolled, trying to participate, to join the dance, and then Johnny found what he was looking for, and you screamed.

He’d tormented you so long. You didn’t have a chance to give a warning or brace for the snap. Your orgasm practically exploded, and for a minute you couldn’t even breathe. Everything froze, trying to catch and keep the high as your vision went white and your ears rang. Your thoughts ran slow and thick, like honey in winter, just soft enough for Ghost’s words to penetrate.

“How you feelin’? Rung out or ready for more?”

What a stupid question. Appreciated, but stupid. You’d ask for more until your voice gave out.

You consciously, carefully unclenched your fingers from his mask, from his sleeve. He still held you open, shivering and bare apart from Johnny’s face, still pressing slow kisses with tongue and teeth anywhere he was tempted to taste. Glimmers of firelight caught in the arousal smeared over his cheeks.

“More.”

Johnny muttered something very Scottish you couldn’t quite make out through the fading white noise in your head. But your eyes worked perfectly well, and he put on a show, yanking off his shirt, showing off like he used to when he shoveled the drive.

“Tell her, Johnny,” Ghost prompted. “Give her everything you’ve been thinking since you moved in here.”

“Fuck.” The Scotsman worked his belt free as talked, staring at you. His eyes roved, chasing the paths his tongue had traveled, rising to your heaving chest, to your face, so close to his LT’s commanding gaze. “Heard the neighbor was a hermit. Expected – doesnae matter. Prettiest hermit I’d ever fuckin’ seen. Showin’ up with biscuits and makin’ friendly.” The belt swished free from its loops and clattered to the ground. “Had me graspin’ after my manners with one look. An' after I tried catchin’ your eye in the snow, you took care of me an all.” He popped his button free. The zipper went down. “Wanted to bring ya inside and make things cozy. Had to wait for Ghost. Had to let ‘im see ya. Let him understand.” His hand slipped under his clothes, bringing a swollen red tip peeking over the elastic of his underwear.

“Should’a heard him on the phone,” Ghost murmured in your ear as Johnny pushed down his remaining clothes, already hard and weeping for you. “Thought he was gonna come to just the thought of you some nights. Started giving me ideas before I even had a chance to thank you for minding him.”

Naked, practically glowing in the fire, Johnny swooped down for a kiss. He squeezed a breast, thumbing the nipple relentlessly until you broke for air. Everything about him hummed with energy. A livewire sparking over the street. “Wanna fuck you. Please? Please let me fuck you, bonnie. Sweetest little cunt I’ve ever had. Please?”

Standing where he was, and held as you were, his dick rubbed against you as he spoke.

You were going to combust, and you’d enjoy every fucking second of it. All thoughts of snow and ice had melted. Everything had turned to steam.

“Yes.” He’d dived to work a hickey into your neck during your brief hesitation, and you fought to even whisper your answer. “Please.”

He lined up, rocking shallowly once, twice, and pushing home in a long, burning stroke. You yelped, and he moaned, both going still until the sting had passed. By the time you nodded your permission, he had his hands on your hips, trembling with need.

He fucked you like he was dying. Like you were his last meal and the only lifeline thrown in a storm. It was months of yearning, months of confusion and false starts and greedy hunger that spilled over and burned you like hot wax. There was no shelter – not that you wanted any – and you once again seized Ghost’s arms because they were the only fucking thing he’d let you reach. They would take care of you. You weren’t allowed to do any of the work. Not in that bed. Not that night.

Johnny keened, huffing and growling and whimpering as he went faster and faster. He brought you so far. So close. Just a little more.

But not enough.

His hips stuttered, his head bowed, and his warm release splashed out.

“Fuck.” Blushing from exertion – and probably something else – he looked up from where he was still balls-deep to sheepishly meet your eyes. “I swear, never finished so fast in my life. Didn’t get you there in time, did I?”

He pulled out, and you dropped your head back on Ghost’s shoulder with a wail of frustration. You were too close to stop now. You reached down to touch yourself, but before you could rub one out, Ghost shifted. He moved closer to the edge of the bed, dropping one of your legs to swat your hand away from your clit.

When you didn’t fight him, he reached behind you, and you both heard and felt him work his cock free.

“May I?”

Too horny and too frustrated, you nodded wildly. “I said I trusted you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

He didn’t pick up where Johnny left off. Thick fingers that had really only held you up to this point reached down, groping over breast and belly to reach your center. Long strokes kept the spark in your belly alive as he ran his hand over you, lubing his fingers in the mixed spend.

One dipped in. He paused, considering. Then a second joined.

“Minute I saw you at the door, knew you were a carer,” he said. “Knew it’d been so long since someone took care of you that you’d forgotten how a good neighbor should act.” The fingers curled, scissored, working you with clear and vulgar intent. “Wanted to be more than neighbors. Had to close that door quick. Every filthy thing Johnny said hit me, and I wasn’t fit company.” The full implications of that didn’t quite hit you in the moment, but a hazy vision of him watching you through the windows, palming an erection sent your cunt fluttering.

A third finger. All together, they were wider than Johnny’s cock. A deep breath helped. The thumb flicking over your clit like a moth drawn to a porchlight did more. “Had to figure out how to fix all the fuck ups then. So many delays. Took too damn long.” He pulled his hand free, denying you release.

“You said you’d take care of me.”

“We will, sweatheeart. Easy now.” His hand hovered in front of you, fingers spread so he could watch his good work cling and drip like a liquid spiderweb between his digits. “Fuck. You’re perfect.”

He spread his knees, pushing yours wider, and he lifted you up until his dick rubbed over your entrance. Even without looking, you could tell he was massive. You’d need to relax. You’d need to trust him.

Unlike Johnny, he took things slow. He read every flutter and clench, every gasp and hiss like he was fluent in your personal language of carnality. The stretch constantly rode the edge of too much, but it touched places no one else had reached, stuffed your senses full of bliss. And he was so careful. Tactical.

When he’d sheathed himself, his hands slid to your thighs, positioning you in a similar way as before.

“Think you’ve got more apologizing to do, Johnny.”

“Yes, sir.”

You’d closed your eyes at some point, overwhelmed by everything Ghost had to give, but you snapped to attention when a tongue ran over your clit. Johnny smiled up at you, pleased as punch. Devious fucker.

Ghost thrust, and the sound he pushed out of your mouth was pure filth. Helpless, you made it again with the second push. It happened again and again until it became an unbroken string of praise and pleas. Johnny made a game of keeping his tongue on you, pulling back, going still so Ghost would bounce you along it as he drove into you.

A hand pressed over your lower belly, and you moaned in tandem with Johnny.

“Fuck, Simon. Can feel you moving in her.”

After Johnny’s performance, Ghost clearly had something to prove. The first time you came, you clenched so hard on his dick it actually slowed him down. You thought that would be it, that he’d ride high to the end having achieved his goal. Instead, he kept going, fucking you brainless as Johnny actually giggled below. A second climax left you boneless, and by the third you’d entered a fugue state. Ghost slowed down until you could respond (I’m okay.) and then he drove you over the edge until you forgot how to count. Johnny offered kitten licks and praise throughout. When Ghost finally finished - pulling you flush to his chest and panting in your ear (Good fucking woman.) it was Johnny’s attention to your clit that broke you. He sucked and worked his tongue under your clitoral hood like he was sucking nectar from a honeysuckle blossom.

But you were tapped.

“Can’t. Too much.”

Johnny disengaged immediately, and two pairs of hands lifted you from where you sat impaled. Soft words and warm washcloths bathed you in the afterglow. Gentle suggestions guided you under the covers, and a familiar touch turned you to rest with your back to a heated chest. Warmth crowded in from the front, too, murmured joy and praise leaking through the haze to find you.

You didn’t even realize as you slept that you’d found something far better than a good neighbor. But that understanding would come with the dawn, a cup of tea, and a suggestion to go thrifting when the weather broke so you could find a matching set of truly hideous mugs.

[lomlhwa]

glory hole (v.c)

pairing: sex worker!reader x patron!vernon

preview: vernon's friends found a club that has secret glory holes. they know he's dying to get laid, so why not visit the glory holes?

tags/warnings: fem reader, reader is basically bent over a table and chained down, monster cock vernon, spanking, overstimulation, squirting, pet names (slut, whore, cumdump), degrading, reader calls vernon 'sir', unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampies

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.2k

song recs for this fic: gimmie more by britney spears

a/n: this one's a doozy

vernon anxiously nibbles on his fingernail as he waits for his friends to arrive. he’s standing outside a raunchy club, looking like a total creep. why did he agree to this? there’s no way he’s actually this desperate to get off. 

just as he’s about to walk away, his friends round the corner, laughing and carrying on. “yo vernon! you excited, buddy?” his friend, mingyu, asks. vernon shrugs. “i guess so.” mingyu throws his arm over vernon’s shoulder and guides him into the club.

they head straight for the back of the room, finding a small desk that looks like a reception desk. “hey, reservation for jeonghan?” his other friend walks up. reservations for glory holes is insane. “ah, welcome back sir. 4 of you today?” the receptionist asks and jeonghan nods. the receptionist smiles and types something into her computer.

“would any of you gentlemen like protection? we make sure our workers are all clean but if you’d like the extra precaution, let me know.” everyone shakes their heads so vernon follows suit. the woman smiles again. she hands all four of them waivers to sign. he reads it carefully before signing it and handing it back.

the receptionist rises from her chair and walks over to unlock the door beside the group of friends. “your rooms are numbers 5 through 8. remember, feel free to engage in any of your fantasies as long as you don’t seriously injure anyone. their chains are easy to rotate if you wanna change positions. enjoy your 2 hours with our lovely women.” with that, the door is shut. 

“alright boys, see you later,” mingyu shouts before running into a room and clicking it locked. all of the other disperse as well, leaving vernon alone. he wanders to the last one of their rooms available. room number 6. he can already hear the sounds of skin slapping coming from other rooms.

he opens the door hesitantly, finding you bent over, humming to yourself. when he clicks the door locked, you jump and stop humming. “welcome sir. feel free to use me as you please. i’m here for your pleasure,” you recite the standard welcome message to the new patron who has just walked in. you can only hope it’s not some gross middle aged man with a tiny cock again.

when you feel no contact for another 5 minutes, you get worried. “sorry, i don’t mean to not touch you, i got dragged here by my friends and i feel bad using you.” you can’t help but stifle a small giggle. a man feeling bad about using a glory hole? that’s a new one. “sir, this is my job. just fuck me already.” by now, you’re certain he’s an ugly, washed up man. 

finally, you hear his belt jingle and you know he’s sucking it up. you hear him take a deep breath before shoving into you. you gasp at the size, your walls stretching painfully around him. you grip your chains with such force that your knuckles turn white. 

“fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he mutters before beginning to move. he starts off slow, knowing that the stretch is painful. he grips your hips tightly, leaving finger indents in your soft skin. he snaps your hips against yours, driving his cock against your g-spot and prodding your cervix. it’s been so long since you actually enjoyed a patron, but this felt so good. you wished you could reach your arm back to hold his arm or something. 

“you’re such a good slut, aren’t you?” he says before landing a hard smack on your ass. clearly he has managed to get much more comfortable. you nod your head, agreeing with him. you can feel your release building up with every thrust. such a timid man fucking so well is unheard of. but you’re loving this. you grip your chains for dear life, gasping for air as your orgasm creeps up. “god, please sir i’m gonna cum,” you beg, barely fighting it off. 

“you can cum, but i’m not gonna stop fucking you. i’m not done yet. i’m gonna use your hole until i cum” vernon smacks your ass again and you fall over the edge. your legs shake violently. if it weren’t for the chains, you would be snapping your legs closed. he continues to jackhammer into your hole, pushing you past the edge and towards another orgasm. you notice that his thrusts are getting sloppy, signaling to you that he’s close. “please cum inside me, sir. i need it so bad,” you plead, your walls squeezing around him. he digs his nails into your sides as he cums, filling you to the brim. the sensation sends you into another orgasm, this time you squirt all over his legs and the floor.

“aw, the cumdump likes being filled so much that she couldn’t take it,” he snickers, running his fingers over your sensitive core. you shake and twitch at every small touch. “i’m gonna flip you over, i wanna see your pretty face.” he hooks his arms around your waist and rolls you over. being rolled over holds your arms down to your chest with the chains, still trapped. 

when you’re finally situated and you see his face, you’re astonished to see how beautiful this man is. you almost wish this wasn’t a business exchange, but you know better than to get attached to customers. “well aren’t you a pretty little thing. so pretty and such a whore,” he comments, stroking your face. he ducks down to situate your crossed legs around his waist. he reaches down between you to shove back into you.

“i have 15 minutes left, i’m gonna get another orgasm out of you.” 15 minutes? how has it already almost been 2 hours? he slides into you easier this time, your hole having yet to recover from his previous entry. your arms strain against your chains, wishing you could grab onto him to ground yourself. he pounds into you ruthlessly, his only focus being to drive you over the edge.

he reaches down to rub your clit and you throw your head back, your eyes crossing involuntarily. “oh my fucking god,” you croak, your voice getting caught in the back of your throat. you squeeze your legs around his waist, desperate for release. with 5 minutes left on the clock, you plead for your orgasm. “cum with me, slut. i’m gonna fill you up again,” he demands, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. 

as he feels you tighten for a final time, he leans down to kiss you. you hadn’t been kissed in so long so this surprised you. you kiss him back, cumming onto his cock as he simultaneously fills you up to the brim.

he pulls out of you and flips you back over into your original position just as his time strikes zero. “h-have a good day sir. feel f-free to return whenever you’d like,” you stutter the standard goodbye message. he slaps your ass one last time before pulling his pants back up and walking out. 

as the door closes behind him, he finds his friends coming out of their own rooms as well. “so? how was it?” jun asks him, patting him on the back. “so good, and she’s so hot,” he says, gesturing back to his room. 

“i will be coming back.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[clubsoft]

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⠀ ⠀ BUNNY IS A RIDER ⠀ ⠀ JEY USO / POC ! F ! READER⠀⠀

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SUMMARY ⋆ jey has one of his ideas , and it involves his pretty little girlfriend . . . as always . WARNINGS ⋆ just pure smut / dom !! jey / thigh riding / daddy kink / spanking / spit kinda ? ... looks around / multiple orgasms / size kink / there's an age gap but its more shown than told idk das his baby / dirty talking / pet names ( mama , baby , babygirl , bunny ) / jey luvs his baby / thinly veiled foot kink bye WORD COUNT ⋆ 1 . 4 k NOTES ⋆ IIBTPUIYOTOMMMMMM

Ardent lust emits in a series of ungodly acts, hidden and buried away in a bedroom on a private island. No lights, no cameras. Nothing exists but strong, steady hands under the airy fabric of an angel white sundress. 

The video game is background noise. You lose! flashes in ugly red letters resembling the spillage of blood, the controller buzzes against the leather cushions away from the pair, both of whom are so very preoccupied. Jey sits with his muscular legs spread wide, top row of pearly teeth denting his soft bottom lip, lashes low and head tilted. His curls are damp from his recent shower, traces of fallen droplets on his bare chest, to which he pays no mind, for his amorous gaze is steady set on a much sweeter objective. 

Between his thick thighs stands his lover; a hot, flustered mess of a girl whose dress is bunched up at her waist by one of Jey’s large hands, soft belly and plush thighs, the flesh of round hips enduring the painful dimpling subjected by the thin straps of a pure white g-string. They’re both more than aware of the lack of discomfort, but Jey coos as though it’s the definition of torture. The nerve of that piece of fabric, hurting his babygirl. That’s enough cause to curl two thick digits around the slender gusset, beginning to pull it down her legs only to pause and let his knuckles linger in place, pressing them into the wetness of her folds, letting them catch against her clit and break her silence with a squeak of response. He chuckles, she groans, and he yanks the garment off in one swift movement while happily licking his knuckles clean. “Jey…”  She begins quietly, but words don’t come to her, her being consumed by the need for more of his touch, and she hopes the lovelorn sparkle in her eyes speaks for her. Alongside the panties goes the dress, tugged down her shoulders and tossed to the other side of the couch, entirely out of reach. Now, bare before him, she awaits his next move. 

“Want you right here, mama,” Jey rasps out, taking hold of her waist, tugging her in, patiently guiding her to straddle a singular thigh, continuing in a sultry tone that has her soaking through his sweats, “Just sit your pretty ass right here and let me take care a’you, ‘k? Wanna try somethin’ new…” He uses his knuckle to nudge her chin, dark brown eyes awaiting an answer. Calm and sensual as his demeanor is, the shakiness of his breathing reveals the tightening thread behind the curtains, ready to snap into something more primal, something less gentle. It’s the perfect time to be good and nod, so she does. “Good girl…  here we go, baby.”

A beat of tenderness, dainty wrists clasped in big hands that help settle her much smaller ones atop his broad shoulders. Then, without a second’s hesitation, Jey grips her hips and rocks them slowly against his thigh; her slick folds dragging over the gray fabric. Lightening dances up her spine, the first surge of pleasure makes a moan sound out in symphony between them, and her perfectly manicured nails dig into his skin, scratching over the inked expanse of flesh as a rhythm is set. Her darling mien is softened by the delectable sensation, lashes almost brushing her cheekbones, lips parted, tongue on the verge of sticking out past them. She’s so dirty, so depraved, possessed by carnal indulgence with such little effort, her film of innocence losing opacity with each sap like noise from her throat, and Jey quickly realizes he’s no longer in her view, the lense that views him fogged up by desperation, by the chase of peak ecstasy. 

“Feel good?” His warm chest rumbles, low voice vibrating against the hinge of her jaw as his mouth kisses and nips the delicate spot. “Does that lil’ pussy like makin’ a mess on my clothes?” All he receives in response are pleasure drunken hums, a soft croon of a yes, and he grunts. The grip on her hips tightens into a bruising one, a twinge of pain reminds her of his presence, but his eyes are on the sweet cunt staining his sweats. A curl appears at the corner of his lips, a single canine flashing in the dim lights, and he applies pressure, watches as soft pussy lips part further, her folds mold to the fabric. Just like that, her hips twitch, tongue lolls out enough for him to lick against it with his own, and as she falls apart, he sucks on the dewy muscle with pride. 

“Jey… m—my god, fuck…  fuck…” She coos, encompasses his neck with her arms, chest coming down to press against his as her figure shivers through the ecstasy. Strings of spit connect their mouths as he laughs, dives in to kiss her again, hands shifting from her hips. One strong arm wraps around her waist, a palm travels up slowly, groping at warm flesh before it settles gently at her cheek, thumb toying with a saliva slicked bottom lip. 

“Look at you… such a dirty, dirty girl,” he murmurs, “So fuckin’ pretty, ruinin’ my fuckin’ sweats…  and I bet you wanna go again, don’t you?” That dark glint returns within mere seconds of disappearing, his thumb pushing into her mouth to press down on her tongue, making it impossible for any words to form, but the lotus has been consumed, and her plump lips wrap around the digit with an unholy lack of resistance. “Yeah, you fuckin’ do… c’mon, bunny. Gimme another one. Take daddy for a ride.” 

A second large hand smooths itself against the elegant small of her back, fingers dragging over smooth skin. Her being reads his touch with ease, curving her body just how he desires, leaving her hips to find their own rhythm. She whimpers around his thumb when his hand lifts, for no amount of his touch is enough. Greedy little thing, pouting for more while using her own spot of slick to get herself off again on his lap. A cry muffles itself as the heavy set of fingers swats at her plush ass, one smack for each precious, supple cheek. The thumb slips from her mouth, his fingertips dent into her cheeks, making her lips pucker. “You look a fuckin’ mess, lil’ baby…”

Amusement on his features, it’s impossible to deny he’s enjoying every sinful second of this, leaning in to suck her juicy bottom lip into his mouth, releasing it with a wet pop! 

“You love me?” He coos in a melody that verges on condescending. “Tell me, baby, you love me, don’t you?” Clasping her chin even tighter, he presses his fingertips harder into her cheeks, and with the motions of her body, her contorted lips, she offers a nod, an incoherent sound that doesn’t serve to be enough for him. A blink of an eye, he’s swatting down at her ass again, harshly, with both huge hands. 

“Ah! I love you— I love you! I love you, daddy!” Her voice is strained with oncoming euphoria, another loud smack, the sting of handprints lighting up a dark, masochistic corner of her brain, pain stirring with pleasure for a heartbeat, then two; her back arches, body falls soft, crumpling into his chest, and she chokes out a moan, a gush of juices against his thigh marks her second orgasm of the night. 

“There you go… there you go, my baby… did such a good job, babygirl.”

Flowery and abuzz, she’s panting into his chest, eyes shut as he soothes her with kiss after kiss, scraping his nails up and down her slender back. Fingertips travel down the shape of her hips, rub down her thighs, toy with her anklets before his hands take her small feet into his palms.  His thumbs pressing slow circles into the balls of her feet, Jey watches in adoration as her perfectly pedicured toes curl with relief. “Perfect from head to toe… pretty lil’ thing… Just wanna keep making a mess of you over and over and over.” One of the feet in his grip kick up a little, a drowsy giggle sounding from her relaxed figure. Jey chuckles, nuzzling his nose against her cheek, murmuring near her ear, teeth catching on her earlobe to tug playfully. “Get some rest, baby… You’re gonna need it… I’m not done with that pussy just yet.”

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⠀⠀ ⠀ © CLUBSOFT ⠀⠀ ⠀

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TAGLIST ⋆ @days1 / @luvrsluxe / @uceyliyahh / @uceypunk / @punksyeet / @chasssssworld / @ctinadiva / @bookuce / @bratzzzdoll if u would like 2 be added 2 my tag list 4 my wrestling fics , pls like this post !!

[forestshadow-wolf]

Don't be brash. Don't be flashy. And don't show off.

That's what Price explicitly told soap before he went in. It was a crude operation. An illegal cage fight organization that was a front for making off the books deals. They had been monitoring an HVT for months, he comes around for one night every couple weeks. Intel says he's supposed to be here tonight.

And now soap's here. And it's been a long night. With more still ahead of him.

In the not so hindsight it wasn't so weird to send him in. He used to get into only too many fights before Ghost held his collar, and even more so before Price leashed him. He could spar Ghost on the mats for hours on end. So it was quite befitting to have him locked in a fight cage circling with beasts bigger than Ghost, and crowds louder than a circus.

As he circled a monster of a man broader than him, taller than him, meaner looking than him, he felt it almost reminiscent of the first time he met price. His hair too, longer than it should have been. Overconfident but with fire to spare. Only last time ended with a dislocated knee and fractured patella, and Price was telling him he'd take care of him if he could only pull his head out of his ass. And this time Price had let him off his leash as he sidestepped the blow that would have put him on the ground, and was swinging bloody fists into flesh. The bell dinged as his opponent fell.

His fists were bloody, his face was bleeding, his ribs were bruised, and sweat had his hair flopping on his forehead, but the crowd cheered louder as he leaned against the chains caging him in. And Ghost came up beside him as they cleaned his dome and went in search of another contestant.

"Price and Gaz have eyes on the HVT. How much you got left in you?" He didn't flinch when Ghost came up from his blindspot.

"How long do you need?" He muttered, not looking at the man.

"Make it an hour and I give you a reward. Hour and a half and I'll make it better."

Oh?

How soap did love a good treat.

"Break a glass when you want me to throw." It would pain him deep in his soul to throw the match, but probably not as much as the blow to take him out.

---

He had no idea how long I'd been, he'd stopped keeping track a long time ago. Stopped noticing faces. But he must've pummled half a dozen men, at some point between talking to Ghost and they following fight, he'd accrued a group of challengers.

He was facing a big bloke, but hardly the biggest. Long since had the burn set into his muscles, but adrenaline dulled his aches to the buzz of excitement.

A crash and a commotion outside the cage.

That's his cue. He threw a right hook, too it clow in the redraw. It was good contact, but hardly the best. His opponent feigned an obvious left and he compensated, but only just too slow. It rattled his brain, and disorientation made him too slow to block the blows to his ribs. He let himself go down after that.

The bell dinged, and he made no attempt to push the assists off him as they dragged him out of the cage.

Ghost took him under the shoulder, and helped him through the pulsing, dizzying crowd. People were touching him, screaming, slapping him on the back. He collected his spoils, but they needed to get out. They had the package, and he was going to crash soon.

His eye was starting to swell shut, blood smeared his face, his knuckles were split and ugly, his ribs, arms, legs were all turning with bruises. The adrenaline trickled from his system and the colors and sprains and breaks began to throb and ache. He let Ghost take more of his weight the further they got.

[haruchi-slit]

"TAKE A LOOK IN MY EYES, CAN YOU FEEL THE TENSION?"

kinktober '24 | warnings: enemies who fucks each other + reader is called as: "miss president" + they're literally enemies + p in v

ryomen sukuna was notorious for being a trouble maker at your university, for fuck's sake he doesn't have any proper bone in his body he's always having the time of his life, fucking girls in vacant classrooms, always out for after school fights, he believes it's for the "thrill" and he's always been a pain in your ass, he's you call him "pain in the ass sukuna" with how much trouble he's dragging you, both of you are just so opposite at everything, but they say "opposites attract" and fucking hell why is it right?

"this is the 3rd time the two of you got in trouble, do you want me to expell both of you!?" the principal's voice roared thru his office. you flinched as the principal shouts, you're standing beside the one and only fucker who got you dragged on his mess, "no, of course not." he responds, making the principal's brows twitch. "I'm so disappointed on you miss president. how can you not prevented this to happen?" the principal said, "the two of are going to clean the basketball court as punishment. this is the last time I'll be seeing the both of you here. get out. the two of you GET OUT!" the principal screamed, you saw him getting red with frustration, which you found funny.

"this is all your fucking fault" you huffed, with furrowed brows, "my fault?" he twitched, "it's our fault dumb bitch." he huffed back, you gasped, "call me bitch one more time i swear you fuckin' monkey" he smirks, "okay...biiiiitch" and oh, all hell breaks loose. you threw the broom on the floor before marching angrily towards him as he awaits with a devious smirk, but before you could punch him, the principal walks in, almost catching you red handed... "what's going on?" you quickly retrieved your fist and jabbed sukuna on his side "fuck-ing ouch!" , "nothing sir! he was telling me a joke! righttt?" "no you-" you jabbed him once more and he winced in pain, "yeah, yeah, and then the frog jumped out the window!" "OH hahahaha! that's so funny sukuna" you laughed, while shooting deadly glares at him, "oh is that so? very well then I'll leave you two be." the principal squints before going out.

you took a deep breath before picking up the broom "let's get this over with." "why do you hate me that much, hm?" he sighs angrily, "cause you're a pain in the ass, you're a frat boy, you're ugly, you act like a stupid fucking monkey and the list goes on"

you saw his eyes twitch as you enumerated his flaws, "are you fucking blind? ugly? where? fucking bitch."

the two of you were always at odds, constantly trying to outdo one another in everything. Whether it was in the classroom, on the sports field, or in any other aspect of life, you and Sukuna were rivals...

but there was always an underlying tension between the two of you, a spark of attraction that neither of you wanted to admit it was bad and you knew it. it was a dangerous game with fire, this constant push and pull, but neither of you could resist.

"close the damn door before you head out airhead" you shout, picking up your bag from the floor, "why should i?" he hissed, "just do it fucking hell!" you shout louder, "fuck you!" sukuna shouts back "no, fuck you bitch!" you spat back before walking out. after the incident, you didn't saw nor heard of him for a week, which is a fucking relief, but for fuck's sake why's destiny always ruining good things for you?

"WHAT the hell is wrong with the two of you?!" the principal shouts, "this is the fourth time, i need the two of you to work on your attitudes, you two are INSANE, who in their right mind would fight Infront a teacher?!" "the principal adds, "it wasn't my fault i swear!" you tried to justify, "sure, it wasn't your fault." "tell him sukuna." you screamed, "tell him what?" he scoffs, "get the fuck out of my office, NOW!"

the both of you were punished to clean the rest room and locker room for a whole semester, after the heated you both are now in the locker room,

"fuck you, fuck you, FUCK YOU why do you need to ruin my day?! you're bat shit crazy! get a life for fuck's sake!"

"can i use you for that?" sukuna smirked

"go fuck yourself"

and the argument between the two of you goes on and on, that it turned into a physical altercation, "fuck you" you shout, "you wanna fuck me that badly?" he laughs, shoving you to the ground, "go to hell, fucker!" you spat, kicking his knees hard "I'll drag you down with me bitch." and before you knew it, you were pinned against the floor, sukuna's lips crashing down on yours in a fiery kiss.

"what-the fuck, mhmm.. are you doing-" you paused between kisses, "you're pretty when you shut the fuck up, -you mnnn, should do that-fuck- more," "oh-ngh why don't you shut the fuck up too?" you groaned, unbuttoning your blouse off, it was like a switch had been flipped, all that pent up frustration and desire exploding between the two of you. clothes were quickly discarded, sukuna's hands roaming over heated skin as you both gave into the pool of undeniable lust and pleasure, "fucking hell, you're so good, fuckkk, you smell so sweet, i wanna destroy you so bad.." sukuna lets out a shaky moan, "s-shut up- airhead" you whimpered, arching your back as you feel his member sliding in, your eyes rolls back in the deepest depths of your skull, while sukuna's hands roam freely on your body, "you infuriate me -so ugh fuck!-much" you babbled, "yet you can't even resist my touch" sukuna chuckles, "c'mon miss president, your face's flushing so hard"

"s-hut up!" you struggled to form a word, in that moment, all previous hatred and animosity were forgotten as you both lost yourselves in each other. bodies moving in perfect sync as you both reached new heights of pleasure.

"f-fuck sukunaaa- yes just like that- mhn-" you cried, "can you say "please" miss president?" "go fuck- yourself!" sukuna laughs before he lifts your leg up and placed it on his shoulder, "fuck you're squeezing me so fucking tight" he says, pounding his hips to yours, "fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckkk!" you yelped, "gonna cum, miss president?" "oh-nghhmm, yes yes!" sukuna grinned, stretching your leg further to it's limits, "fuck-" and with the last final thrust both of you came to your climax, you can feel his member twitch inside of you as he shoots thick strings of cum in you, "this never happ-" *KNOCK KNOCK*

"hello, is someone in there?"

...

taglist: @catobsessedlady @tojis-ball-sack @sukunawhores @sugoroo

[xveenusx]

Enough

Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Realizing that no matter what you do, no matter how much you love someone, you are still not enough.

Author’s note: I’ve had a severe case of writer’s block so please don’t hate my disappearance.

Rating: Pure brutal angst

Warnings: fucking painful

__________________________

I think I may have made a small miscalculation.

My eyes trailed over the mass of muscle currently spread out on my bed.

Rafe Cameron.

Kook King, heir to Ward's real estate empire, and asshole extrodinare was sleeping soundly in my bed. It was almost laughable if I wasn't so fucking terrified.

The sunlight danced across his tan skin, the sheets bunched up at his hips leaving little to imagination. My breath caught as my eyes followed the small happy trail causing memories of last night to assualt me.

Sitting on the chaise lounge chair, I curl up against the pillows humming softly to myself. Bringing the mug up to my lips, I bite back a smile at the utter relaxtaion on his face.

When Rafe told me to pack a bag, my stomach flipped with nerves. Being the maid of the infamous Cameron family wasn't exactly ideal in the eyes of his family let alone being a pogue. So we kept our relationship a secret at his request. He had too much to lose if his family reacted poorly.

People wouldn't understand. Ward wouldn't understand. That's what he always told me.

Yet, as much as I tried to understand his reasoning, a small part of me ached at the thought of it being much simpler: I just wasn't enough.

It was exahusting to say the least. Always having to hide and watch as other women with more social status and money than me throw themselves at him. It didn't help that Rafe had a tendency to flirt back causing the green monster known as jealousy to rear its ugly head in my face.

So I stuck with what I knew how to do: clean.

And just as I begin to fall off the deep end, straight over a cliff into overthinking, Rafe always manages to pull me back out. This time he did it by offering a small getaway.

The Cameron's weren't set to use their beach house for another month or so, leaving this entire property for Rafe and I to simply enjoy each other's company. Something we rarely get to do.

There was no need to pretend here.

A groan pulled me out of my thoughts directing my eyes to the bed. A cool salty breeze swept in from the open balcony doors, the sounds of waves crashing agaisnt the shore soothed me.

Rafe peered at me from under his arm with a frown marring his features.

"What's with that face?"

"I don't like waking up alone." He complained, staring at me expectantly.

Giddiness singes every nerve in my body as I set down my mug and scurry over to the bed. The moment my knees hit the bed, strong arms envelope me and tug me into a warm prison.

"Mmmmh." Rafe hums, burying his face into the nape of my neck while his hand slowly tugs my leg over his hip. A small giggle slips from my lips at his softness.

"Are you laughing at me?" His voice rumbled with sleep.

"Yes, you’re a very simple man to please."

"I didn't have you, and now I do. There, it's simple."

My heart melted at his words. For someone who struggled wiht expressing how he felt, Rafe always managed to knock me on my ass.

"What did you wanna do today?" I asked, trailing my fingertips along his face, placing every freckle, every spot to memory.

Blue crytsalized eyes follow me every move. "You. In every room in this house. Then outside."

Blushing at his words, I huffed in fake annoyance and playfully shoved his face away from me. "Rafe, I'm being serious."

"I'm being dead serious, baby." He nipped at my fingers before rolling over onto his back, dragging me directly on top.

I rest my chin on the tops of my hands that laid on his chest and stare at the beautiful man below me. Rafe's fingers thread themselves into my hair brushing it softly, alomst lulling me to sleep.

I wanted to capture this moment forever. The sound of the seagulls chirping, the smell of the salty breeze, the warmth of his body under mine, and the utter adortion that dances in his eyes as he looks at me. It was intimate and real. And for a moment, I allowed myself to dream about the possibility of this becoming a reality.

The abilty to hold his hand in public and kiss his body in private. Being able to go on dates and be on his arm for events and dinners. Hanging out with his friends and his family because I knew what they meant to him. Being able to wake up in his bed rather than sneaking out in the middle of the night. I wanted it all.

Our picture perfect bubble. And consider me naive, but I thought this moment would last forever. But the thing about bubbles is they always pop in the end.

"Guess what?" Rafe asked, his cerulean orbs intense and sincere.

A beaming smile stretched across my lips at the familiar phrase he always used. "What?"

"I love-"

"I love you." I beat him to it, making him let out a deep bellyed laugh. I was memoriezed, enamoured by every little thing he did. I wanted to hear it again and again.

Opening my mouth, "No take backs-"

A knock on the door interrupts me.

That's when our bubble pops.

"Rafe? Open up." Sarah Cameron's voice fillters in from the other side of the door.

My eyes dart to Rafe, only for his face to be painted with sheer panic. In seconds, I'm shoved off the side of the bed and fall onto the floor in a heap of sheets.

My mind took a moment to catch up with my body. But when it did, the flood of emotions that crashed into me were nothing short of excruciating. An immediate lump formed in my throat at his actions as I try to make quick excuses for him but nothing came to mind.

"Just stay down, please." The sound of his request has me closing my eyes, his words hitting me deep, knifelike in the size of the wounds that they left.

I nodded softly. I remain still on my side on the cold floor as I numbly stare at the wall.

"Sarah, what the fuck are you doing here? I had the beach house for the weekend." His words were low and sharp, nothing like how he spoke to me mere seconds ago.

"Chill out. My friends and I wanted to get away a little, plus I figured you were already here, so. "

"You brought those fucking pogues here?"

I hear her scoff. "Your friends are worse."

"Just make sure they don't steal anything. I know it's hard for them considering they wouldn't see this type of money in a life time." His words were cruel, twisting the knife deeper into my chest.

I couldn't help but wonder if there was a double meaning behind his words. I was a pogue, just like Sarah's friends, and it would take me years to afford even a fraction of what's in this beach house.

Was that how he saw me? Was this the reason why we couldn't be public?

"Have you seen her? She wasn't at the house when I left." Sarah's question drew me back to the present.

I held my breath as I waited for him to answer about my whereabouts. I couldn't take another hit.

"I know you have about two brain cells, but please tell me why you would think I know where the help is?"

All my breath left my body and I fought the urge to scream. A heavy weight sat on my chest as I blankly stared at the floor, my eyeballs burning in absolute mortification.

"God, you're such an asshole."

"I aim to please. Now leave me alone." With that, Rafe slammed the door shut but I refused to move a muscle.

Instead, I tried to focus on my breath. It was the only thing that would keep me from having a panic attack. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs but it's like my body forgot how to breathe.

Tears finally began to fall silently as I gasped for breath, clutching the sheet closer to my chest. Humilation pricked my very being as his words play on repeat in my mind.

Rafe was the best part of my day. He made me want things I didn't even know I wanted. And yet, this was how he viewed me. So small and insiginifcant.

Footsteps move in my direction but I paid them no mind. Moving was impossible, so I just stayed in the spot where Rafe thought I belonged— on the cold hard floor.

"I know how it looks, just give me a chance to explain." I felt him kneel beside me, his hand reaching to cup my face. I jerked my face away from him and return my attention to the wall.

"Can you please get off the floor?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"This is where you wanted me, right?" The words left a stale taste in my mouth.

My heart pounded in my throat as a hot flush filled my cheeks.

"Look at me." He demanded.

I couldn't. It hurt too much.

"Baby, please. Look at me." He touched my chin and I felt my body shudder.

"Don't touch me." The words tore out of my chest as I wrenched myself away from him.

Rafe's eyes tracked my movement and his face became very still as if contemplating his next move.

The level of betrayal I felt must have been painted on my face, because his expression shifted to one of regret.

"I made a mistake-"

"Stop." I snapped, lifting my hand to cut him off. "Get out. I need to change and leave before Sarah see's me."

"I drove you, where are you going to go when you don't have a car?"

My eyes narrow at his tone. Once again he was painting me as this helpless girl that was nothing without him.

"I have two legs that work perfetly fine."

Rafe crossed his bulging arms against his toned chest. "You're not leaving until we talk."

A fake laugh past my lips. "We're done, there's nothing left to talk about."

He let out a growl of frustation. "We're not breaking up."

Was he delusional?

"This is me breaking up with you. We are done, Rafe."

Rafe's icey blue eyes narrowed into slits. "Stop trying to break up with me."

"You threw me off the bed!" I shouted, my hands pointing to the floor where I laid moments ago, the shame still fresh as an open wound.

"You threw me off the bed." I repeated softer, my voice breaking at the end. "The bed, Rafe. Just so Sarah didn't see you with me."

"I shouldn't have done that-"

"It happened. It's done. Just let me leave."

Protecting what little self respect I had left was my only goal. No matter how much I loved him, it wasn't worth this constant stream of self doubt and humiliation that seemed to follow us like a plague.

Rafe stared at me for a moment before he jumped into action. Heading towards my suitcase, I watch frozen as he goes through my clothes, picking an outfit for me.

Taking several strides to me, Rafe shoved the clothes into my arms, his breath heavy. "Put these on."

"Rafe, what the hell are you doing-"

"I made a mistake. One that I'm going to fix right now. So stop fighting with me and put these on."

Unease filled me chest as my eyes dart to the clothes.

"How?"

"No more hiding. You and me, okay?"

I stared into his hopeful gaze, looking for even a flash of insincerity or deceit, but only found sheer determination. "Rafe, you can get out of this. I'm giving you an out-"

He shakes his head roughly, strands of golden hair falling on his forehead. "I don't want an out, I want you. So put the clothes on so I can go tell the world I love you."

I snorted, "Seems a bit melodramatic. Let's start small, yeah?"

Pushing his hair back, a sexy smile pulled at his lips. "Small."

I made my decision. Turning around, I grabbed the clothes and began to dress.

I wiped my sweaty hands against my mini white sundress as nerves begin to prick every bit of my skin. Rafe stood in front of me, his glacial eyes soft, with his hand held out for mine. "Ready, baby?"

Hope inflated my lungs as I placed my trembling hand in his, the cool feel of his rings brining a familiar type of comfort.

Rafe leads us out of the room and towards the staircase where voices floated up from downstairs. I was nervous. Extremely nervous. He was going to do it. Rafe was going to introduce me as his girlfriend to his sister and her friends, no less.

The sound of our footsteps echoed against the giant house causing the voices to slowly die away.

Coming into view, Sarah and the pogues are all perched in the living room wearing beach attire. An open bottle of tequila and shot glasses are spread along the table.

All eyes zone in on us before they zoom in on our clased hands. Sarah's eyes widened and I fought the urge to pull my hand from Rafe's grasp. As if sensing my thoughts, Rafe squeezed my hand reassuringly and moved me slightly in front of him.

He cleard his throat. "I uh-"

His eyes shot to mine. I let my fingers brush against his arm in encouragement, a proud smile gracing my lips.

This was the first step in the right direction. Once we told Sarah, it would be easier with each passing person.

Butterflies swarmed my stomach like a zoo. I knew how hard this was for him, but he was still doing this for me, for us. Rafe was finally making us a priority. The unattainble future now felt like it was within my reach.

"Sarah, there's something I want to tell you. I've um-well I've been seeing-"

The front door slammed.

"Looks like we're missing all the fun." Ward Cameron walked in, hand in hand with Rose. A loose linen shirt with thin pants dress his body with a hat and an expensive pair of sungalsses cover his face.

I felt Rafe's grip slowly loosen on my hand. Panic clawed at my throat as I turn my head to look at him. Rafe stared directly ahead with his jaw clenched. He refused to even look at me.

In a last ditch effort to cling onto the invisible string that held us together, I tightened my grip on his hand but Rafe jerked his hand away.

I felt the pressure in my chest finally pop and the string that once tethered us together finally tear. Dread sat in my stomach like lead and bile traveled up my throat.

He made his decision and once again, it wasn't me.

Heat rushed up my neck as I left my arms hang limply at my side. I didn't know what to do, I couldn't think. My shoulders slumped as I bit down on my tongue hard enought to draw blood.

It kept me from screaming.

"Rafe, thank god you brought the help. Though it looks like she hasn't been doing much cleaning." Rose tsked as she looked at the littered table in distaste. "Honey, be a dear and make us new drinks. Then when you have a minute, our bags are out front. Go ahead and put them in our room."

With a wave of a hand she dismissed me, as her and Ward walk passed me with no other acknowlegment.

My mouth went dry as I clenched my shaky shands together. I could feel Sarah's gaze drilling into the side of my head, but I couldn't look at her. Instead, I once again looked at the bane of my existance. The source of this crippling pain the crushes every inch of my soul.

"Rafe..." My voice trembled as I begged him, pleaded, for him to look at me. Just once.

I wanted him to see my face. He refused, the only hint of his turmoil was the bob of his adam's apple.

Swallowing my pride, I put my head down and do what I do best: clean.

____________________

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me alive. I spent the rest of the day doing every little thing Rose asked. I kept my head down and said not one word.

Rafe made my place in his life very clear so I was going to be exactly what he wanted me to be. The perfect little maid.

The entire Cameron family sat at the table for dinner, John B included, as I gently set each of their plates down in front of them. I held my breath once I reached Rafe, knowing that one hint of his expensive musky cologne would send me into a fit of tears.

"Thank you." The timber of his voice caused me to close my eyes briefly in pain.

A familiar touch to my wrist made me jerk away and clear my throat. I continue serving dinner, forcing myself to ignore the gravity that's pulling me towards him.

"That'll be all, you can go relax for a bit. We'll need you back to clean up, of course."

"Of course." My smile was brittle. I allowed myself only a glance. Rafe glared down at his plate, hands clenched into fists at his side.

My feet moved on their own accord and soon I found myself outside, standing beside the pool that overlooked the shore. Taking in gulps of air, I placed my head in my hands.

Starting over was never something I planned. Once I met Rafe, everything else shifted into perspective. All I ever thought about was moving forward with him and starting a life together. One that he would be proud of. One where I didn't have to hide.

"I'm sorry." The words came from behind me and burned a whole straight through my chest.

I choked back on my tears that threatened to drown me and stare down at the rag in my hands.

"Baby." He moved closer now, his heat pressing into my side.

A small shake of my head was all I could muster. The armour I placed around my delicate heart was getting weaker with each passing second.

"I said, I'm sorry." His hand reaches for my waist, turning me to face my destruction.

A light blue linen shirt paired with white six inch seamed shorts don his body. A large gold watch decorated his wrist to match the shiny gold necklace that rested on his chest.

Looking down at myself, a simple tee and leggings, the contrast was so striking it was laughable. In what world had I fooled myself into thinking Rafe Cameron was mine.

Deciding to proctect my sanity, I moved back towards the house with every intention of cleaning up before grabbing my bag and leaving when Rafe blocked my escape.

"Did you hear me? I'm so fucking sorry, for all of it."

"I heard you." Indifference lacing every word.

Rafe gowled, running his hands through his hair in frustation at my lack of emotion. "Stop acting like you don't care and just talk to me."

"I don't care what your family thinks of me and I don't care what you think of me. I dont care anymore, Rafe."

Rafe gripped my chin and his irate gaze burned me. "Tell me what to do to fix it."

There was nothing left of me for him to fix.

The sound of Ward calling out my name is enough to distract Rafe. Pulling my face from his grasp, I promplty turned around and headed towards the house.

"Stop fucking walking." He barked out harshly.

Ignoring his words, I continue to head in the direction of the house. Only a few more hours and I can leave with my head held high despite the gaping hole in my chest.

"I swear to God, stop walking." I could hear his footsteps behind me causing a rush of adrenaline to spread like wildfire through my veins.

"Last time I checked, you work for my family. My last name is fucking Cameron so if I tell you to stop walking, you stop fucking walking." The words are cruel and dark and they have their desired effect because I stop immediately in my tracks.

My eyes began to burn as I pivoted on my heel and slwoly turned to face him. His gaze hardened and I can see him contemplating something before a vicious smirk decorates the face I love.

A glass tumblr was in his hand and I watched in absolute shock as he tilted the cup, spilling the dark liquid onto the floor. The rag in my hand suddenly weighed eight tons as I realized his intent.

"Clean it up."

My blood turned ice cold and a sound a disbelief left my lips.

"I said, Clean. It. Up." He gestured to the floor.

I searched his eyes for anything, for everything, but there's nothing there. Looking back down at the mess, I nodded my head and slowly dropped to my knees.

Tears blurred my vision as I scrubbed the floor clean, wanting nothing more than to disappear. Our fate was finally sealed in that moment.

Leaning back on the heels of my feet, I swallowed. Tears clung to my lashes but the damage was already done. The trails the tears left in their wake burned into my skin as a reminder of his cruelty.

His cold mask finally cracked at the sight of my tears. Rafe took a step in my direction but something in my face made him halt.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Cameron?” I averted my eyes from his.

A harsh noise escaped his lips then he reached out and grabbed my shoulders. I closed my eyes at the heat of his touch and my lips began to quiver.

“I just wanted you to talk to me….” Rafe spoke softly, his words pained.

I wiped my tears harshly and forced myself to look at him for the last time. His hard glacial eyes study my face.

The memory from this morning continued to fade out of my reach. Pain filled me as I realized that was the last time we would ever be together.

“Am I free to go, Mr. Cameron?”

His face crumbled. For a second, one second, a twisted sense of happiness hit me at the sight of his pain. Rafe did this to us. Not his family, not his friends, but him.

Rafe’s face became very still. He nodded slightly and relief filled me. I stared into his eyes, hoping he could see all the love I had been so willing to shower him with, but it was now too late.

Giving him my back, I allowed the dirty rag in my hand drop. 20 more steps. That’s all that stood between me and the next chapter of my story. One that didn’t include him.

Each step seemed to get heavier the farther I walked away from Rafe. I was wrapped around a haze of heartbreak that almost made my movements mechanical.

I entered the house, numb to the bone, and gathered all my things. Everything around me was out of focus as I dragged my suitcase towards the front door.

I could see Rose from the corner of my eye, her mouth moving, but the ringing in my ears only seemed to get louder. Pushing past her, I headed straight for the door and forced myself not to look back.

Everything was different now. In a way, so was I.

One foot in front of the other, I walked down the drive way. The ringing in my ears and the adrenaline that pumped through my veins was suddenly dulled at the sound of the door slamming open behind me.

Loud footsteps echoed behind me before my arms are grabbed and I’m forced to turn around.

Rafe’s eyes were wild with panic as he panted in front of me. His entire appearance was disheveled with his hair sticking out in all directions.

“Don’t go.”

I was so close to being out of his grasp and being free of this agony that gripped me so tightly it made it hard to breathe.

“You were never mine. Were you?” The question slipped past my lips before I knew it.

“I love you. I do, please just come back inside and I’ll do what you want. I’ll tell Ward and Rose right now.” His blue eyes held so much hope, but it wasn’t enough. The magic was all gone, replaced with this cruel torment.

“I was yours, in every way possible. But, it didn’t matter what I did. I still wasn’t enough for you. I’m never going to be good enough, am I?” My voice cracked, but the words were out along with the realization of how painfully accurate they were.

Warm hands cradled my face pulling me towards his. Rafe rested his forehead on mine, his eyes boring into mine. I could feel the slight tremble in his hands.

“That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”

“How could I possibly know that? You never do anything that says otherwise.”

“I love a man who can’t even hold my hand in public.” He couldn’t hold me gaze, instead he turned it to the floor with his jaw clenched.

“You knew who I was when we started this. You knew what came with being with a Cameron. Our situation is much more complicated than you’re making it fucking seem. So I didn’t hold your hand, now you’re going to leave me?”

His logic was horribly flawed.

“Our situation is not complicated. All you had to do was love me the way I loved you.”

“Whether you like it or not, you’re a fucking maid,” Rafe said through gritted teeth,” The maid to my family, no less, and you expect to be welcomed in with open arms? This isn’t a fairytale, wake up.”

”Then what was the point of all of this? Of me loving you and you loving me, if it was never going to go anywhere.”

“The point was that we were together and we were happy.” Rafe let out a frustrated noise and shook his head. But it was clear, he wasn’t getting it. I knew nothing I’d say would ever get through to him.

“Were we? Together, I mean. Because I was always at your beck and call. Literally and figuratively. Where were you for my college graduation? Where were you when my dad died? I’ll tell you where you were,” I pressed my finger into his chest, “You. Weren’t. There. Instead, you chose to love me from afar because you care more about the opinion of sheep than you do me.”

I couldn’t stop talking. It was as though a wall cracked and suddenly every emotion I held in was flooding through.

“Look at me.” I shouted, grabbing his chin and forcing him to stare. “I want you to look me in the fucking eye. Look at the damage you caused. You did this to us. ”

“Stop being cruel.”

“Cruel? You threw your drink on the floor and made me clean it up. Did seeing me on my knees make you feel big and strong?”

He tilted his head, his expression darkening. “Enough. Come back inside, now.”

“I wanted everything for you.” I laughed at how incredibly stupid and blind I had been. “And you can’t even hold my fucking hand.”

Race’s eyes softened marginally. “Tell me what to do. How can I fix this?”

My stomach tightened. Steeling myself, I swallowed the lump in my throat and pushed out the next words. “You can’t.”

“I can, but you’re not give me a fucking chance here.” His words came out as a plea.

“Being with you was a choice I made every day. One that you clearly couldn’t make, so I’m making it for you. We’re done.

His jaw ticked. ”Try and fucking leave me.”

I wanted nothing more than to run back into his arms and comfort him, despite it all. But I knew, if I was going to survive this at all, I couldn’t be with him.

“I’m always running behind you, trying to keep up. Trying to be everything you want and everything you need, but I’m all out of breath. I have nothing left to give you. But it’s still more than you ever gave me.” With those being my parting words, I clutched onto the handle of my suitcase in a death grip and force myself to walk away from him.

My shoulders jump at the sound of something shattering behind me.

“I love you.” Rafe screamed at the top of his lungs from behind me. His voice was brutal and laced with pain.

Not enough.

_________________

Side note: pls let me know what you think! I’ve been gone for several months so I’m a bit rusty:) I am working on the second part of Hate as promised!

[cjlouwho]

Bucktommy prompt: Tommy is dealing with chronic pain and Buck helps him through it.

Part 3 of my injured Tommy fic

If Tommy were being honest, there were some positives to being paralyzed. The first time he'd told Evan as much, he'd stared back at him with eyebrows raised and a face that said, “I can't wait to see where this is going.”

So Tommy had gone through the list he'd made in his head.

1. He always got the best parking spots.

2. Little old ladies now helped him in the grocery store.

3. People were constantly opening doors for him.

4. He'd get to board first on a plane... as soon as he and Evan figured out where they were going to go for their honeymoon.

5. Sometimes people let him cut in line.

6. He'd learned how to do some sick ass wheelies!

Buck had laughed along with his list, even adding a few himself.

7. Bigger hotel rooms.

8. Tommy's biceps were larger than Buck thought humanly possible.

9. If Buck got tired of walking, he could just sit on Tommy's lap and get a free ride.

And while these things were all good and true, there were plenty of things that made Tommy's new life far more difficult.

One of which were the body spasms.

He'd been warned about them in the hospital. Had a few of them before he'd been discharged. Learned how to deal with them, for the most part, through physical therapy. He'd also been put on muscle relaxants, sleeping pills, and antidepressants.

Which really only caused more problems, because he spent the better part of a month feeling so doped up that he was asleep more than he was awake.

His doctors changed doses and moved around schedules, trying to find the perfect balance, but Tommy hated the pills no matter what.

They didn't only impact his day to day life, but also his ability and desire for sex.

And God, as his body recovered and he and Buck settled into their new normal, he really wanted to want to have sex.

Adjustments already had to be made do to the reduction of sensation he felt around his pelvis. Things got weaker and weaker from there, reduced to no feeling at all in his legs.

They'd had their quickie wedding at the courthouse in February, followed by a ceremony with family the next month, and started planning a honeymoon in the summer. And that's when Tommy decided he was going to cut back on some of his medications, and cut others out completely. He was not going to spend his honeymoon in a half daze, not caring whether or not his drop dead gorgeous husband was naked on top of him.

Buck had protested at first. He'd made it clear that sex didn't mean everything to him. The things they still did do were pretty damn great, and it wasn't worth Tommy being in pain.

But Tommy insisted.

So they'd met with his doctors and come up with a plan. He could go off the sleeping pills, taking them only when needed. They'd reduce the antidepressant in increments. And muscle relaxants could be used as needed as well.

For the most part, everything went fairly smoothly. His spasticity would rear its ugly head from time to time, but it wasn't anything unmanageable.

Until, one night, it was.

He should have known it was going to be a bad night. He'd been restless and uncomfortable all day long. He'd go from his wheelchair, to the couch, to the wheelchair, to the dining room chair, to the wheelchair, to the bed, then back to the wheelchair.

He'd tried wheeling around the neighborhood, usually enjoying using his arms to push himself around, but today he just felt stiff.

The muscle relaxants in the kitchen cabinet had been calling his name, but he'd resisted. Evan was coming off a forty-eight hour shift tonight, and he'd already texted Tommy a picture of himself all sweaty, no shirt on, telling him he was gonna get himself all cleaned up for Tommy.

And Tommy wanted nothing more than to give him everything he wanted, because he wanted it too. Which was a damn good feeling to have back.

He hoped that sex would help his body relax.

It didn't.

He'd gotten through it though, with a few little twinges of pain in his chest and back. Nothing too severe. And with Buck on top of him, his body flushed red, head tossed back and mouth hanging open, the pleasure overrode the pain.

It didn't get really bad until after Buck had fallen asleep. Tommy wasn't sure how long he laid there, trying to stay as still as possible so he didn't wake Evan.

Even as the pain started to radiate up his back, he clenched his teeth to keep himself from groaning.

Then it went to his chest, causing his breath to hitch. The spasm made his back arch off the bed. If it didn't hurt so bad, he would have made some sort of exorcist joke.

His hands gripped onto the fitted sheet and he could feel a vibration.

His legs were probably shaking. He couldn't feel it, but it always happened when he had these spasms, even the minor ones.

He couldn't hardly get a breath. Not while fighting to be quiet. Not while his back and chest felt like they were becoming harder than a rock.

Finally, he unclenched his jaw and let out a half-moan, half-gasp.

“Ev- Evan,” he huffed out, releasing his grip on the sheet to smack his hand down on the bed. Tommy couldn't quite reach out far enough to touch him. Not when everything was seizing up like this. “Evan!” he repeated, louder this time.

Even in his deep sleep, Buck must've realized something was wrong. One second he was dead to the world, and the next he was jumping up, tossing the covers off of them both.

“What? What's wrong?” he said, clumsily reaching over to the nightstand and turning on the lamp.

Tommy squeezed his eyes shut against the light. He didn't feel like seeing himself right now.

It took Buck's brain a few seconds to catch up to the sight in front of him. When he finally registered what was happening, he headed for the door. “I'm gonna get your meds.”

“No!” Tommy yelled, sucking in a breath. “D- Don't.”

“Tommy, you need your muscle relaxant.”

“I- I can't.” He managed to bring a hand to his throat, hoping Evan understood.

“You can't swallow right now,” Buck replied. It wasn't a question.

“Mhm. Just... Just-”

“Massage?” Buck guessed, getting to Tommy's side of the bed in record speed. “You think that would help this time?”

Figuring out the correct responses to these episodes was always a guessing game. Sometimes touch could make it worse. Tommy was pretty sure nothing could make it any worse right now.

“Mm... Mhm.” His jaw was getting so tight he could barely open his mouth.

“I'm gonna move you onto your side.” Very carefully, Buck turned Tommy's rigid body so he was facing away from him. It was an awkward angle, and he was having to do most of the work to keep Tommy on his side, but he managed to get into a position where he could start to dig the palm of his hand into Tommy's back.

At first, he was so tight Buck worried he was going to hurt him even more by massaging him. But, Tommy's breathing seemed to become a little fuller, and the groaning died down a bit.

So Buck continued. He'd alternate between using his palm, his fist, his thumb, to dig into the muscles and get them to loosen.

After a few minutes, Tommy had quieted down completely. His body relaxed into the bed as he flopped the rest of the way onto his stomach. The shaking in his legs subsided. He no longer felt like he was going to shatter into a million little pieces.

Still, Buck continued his massage. He worked up Tommy's neck, massaged his head, down to his shoulders, his back. He even massaged over his legs and feet, letting Tommy know what he was doing so he wouldn't think Buck had just left the room.

After about half an hour, Buck rested his hand at the center of Tommy's back. “Feel better?” he asked quietly, unsure if Tommy was even still awake at this point.

“Mhm. Thank you,” Tommy replied. He paused, blushing before starting to ask, “Did I... Do I need..?” He couldn't quite get the words out. Did I piss myself? Do I need to get up so we can change the sheets and clean me up?

It happened sometimes, when his body seized up. And while he nearly had full bladder control back, everything went haywire when it came to his spasms.

“No, you're good,” Buck answered, and Tommy thanked whoever might be listening that they were able to read each other's minds. “Think you can turn back over now?”

“Yeah. Yes, I- you'll have to help me though.”

“Of course.”

Once Tommy was resting comfortably on his back, head propped up under two pillows, Buck stared down at him. “You knew it was gonna happen today, didn't you?”

Tommy sighed. There was no point in lying. “Yeah. Not this bad though.”

“And you didn't take a pill earlier?”

“No.”

Buck sucked in a shaky breath as he nodded. He didn't answer. Didn't say a word. He simply turned and headed into the bathroom.

Tommy listened as he turned the sink on. It ran for a while, then Buck was back by his side. He ran a warm washcloth over Tommy's face, Tommy closing his eyes and melting into the touch.

Once Buck had finished wiping off his face, he started on his chest.

Tommy blinked his eyes back open, studying Buck.

He was tense, eyebrows knitted together as he focused on cleaning the sweat from Tommy's body.

Tommy's eyes drifted to Buck's hand, shaking ever so slightly.

He reached out and placed his hand over Buck's, gently gripping his wrist. Finally, Buck made eye contact with him.

“Please don't be mad,” Tommy said, knowing it was unfair even as he said it. Still, he hated to see Evan disappointed. Wasn't sure if he could handle it right now.

But as he looked further into Evan's eyes, he didn't see anger.

He saw fear, and sadness. Red-rimmed, wet with unshed tears that were threatening to spill over.

“M'not mad,” he replied, clearing his throat. “I- I'm upset. I don't like seeing you in pain, Tommy.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

“You don't have to be sorry. Just don't do it again. I can't... I can't enjoy being with you- having sex with you,” he clarified, “if I think you're hurting yourself for it.”

“I know, Evan. I just... I just wanted to be with you tonight. Wanted to feel good. Wanted to make you feel good.”

Buck tossed the rag onto the nightstand, sitting down on the bed beside Tommy. “You know what makes me feel good?” he started, resting two fingers under Tommy's chin so he couldn't look away. “Seeing you comfortable makes me feel good. Us enjoying dinner together makes me feel good. Going for a walk in the evening, watching movies, going out for ice cream, you holding me in your arms, getting to hold you in mine, kissing you for hours and hours. All those things, plus like a million more, make me feel good. Sex is fun, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it because damn you've got some moves,” he said, getting a smile out of Tommy, “but it's not everything to me. You are everything to me. I know we can't always prevent spasticity, but when we can, it would make me feel good if we did. Got it?”

Tommy nodded, giving himself a few seconds before verbally responding. “You can't just say stuff like that to me, you know,” he said, choked up. “I'm a softy now.”

Buck scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. “You were always a softy,” he informed Tommy, leaning in for a kiss.

“I'm gonna go get your pills now, okay?”

“Okay.” Before Buck could get too far, Tommy reached out and grabbed at his hand. “Hey. Have I told you lately that I love you?”

Buck cocked his head, giving Tommy a glare. “If you start singing Rod Stewart to me, I will divorce you.”

“No, seriously, Baby,” Tommy said, keeping a straight face. “Have I told you there's no one else above you?”

“I already know a good attorney.”

“You fill my heart with gladness,” Tommy continued, grinning, “take away all my sadness.”

Buck wriggled his hand free of Tommy's grasp, heading out toward the kitchen. “If you hear the front door slam, I'll be back later for my things.”

Tommy's smile only widened as he yelled out, “You ease my troubles, that's what you do!”

[etotruski]

König’s Obsession

(Part 1) Part 2 (Part 3, Part 4)

Writers note: Thank you to everyone who read the first part of this series. It’s my first ever written fan fic. Feel free to comment your ideas on what I could do in the following part. Reuploads are highly appreciated. Thank you:

Warnings: The following parts may contain explicit content for adults.

Word count: 1,828

It’s been only two weeks and people at KorTac are giving you already the damn side eyes and disgusted looks. As if that wasn’t enough you thought your fucking Colonel might’ve obsessed with you because, eyes don’t lie.

It’s currently 6 in the morning. You should be ready for training at 8. You went into the canteen and were confused on why people looked at you as if you were the crustiest and ugliest rat known to human history.

Soon Ashley and a group of men surrounding her walked towards you when you were about to enter the canteen. That’s when you noticed that Ashley was wearing these kind of things you wear when your arms is broken or something, so it gets support. 

At this moment you were just more confused than in your final maths exam. She then pointed at you and said in a whiny, pity and over exaggerated tone.

“Guys that’s that hoe who broke my arm and fractured my ribs just because I accidentally made her trip.”

You couldn’t believe your ears by what you were hearing. She is completely catfishing and lying harder than Donald Trump did. You just stared at her, your anger already bubbling to a point you wanted to jump at her and actually break her arm and fracture her ribs. So instead of doing that you decided to handle it with words, because you didn’t wanna get ended up killed by your own Colonel.

“If your rips were fractured you wouldn’t be able to stand like that, you’d sit in a damn wheelchair-.” 

Before you could even continue, your words were cut off by one of these 5 men following her around.

“Want me to make you feel pain too?”

Another one said.

“How could you do something like that to an innocent woman?”

And then another one said.

“Yeah she’s right. She’s way smarter than you who couldn’t even finish school.”

At this point you were at your breaking point and your anger was like a bubble that could pop any second. The only smart thing you could do was snap back because you had enough.

“Try to make me feel pain. I’ll see you on the ground douche bag. And you saying she is an innocent woman? Innocent my ass, she made me trip on purpose because I didn’t let her skip before me in line. And you saying I was dumb and didn’t finish school, yeah? I have a bachelor you ugly rat, I was in the fucking Navi. So shut the fuck up.”

You said before turning around and leaving. One shouted back.

“Cat killer!”

At this point you understood why people gave you dirty looks. She set rumors off into the world probably as revenge, because of having to clean women and men toilets. 

‘Wow just wow’, you thought to yourself. ‘This had to happen at the start of my new career here. I thought I would have it better here. If this continues I will go back to the Navi and quit. But what the hell can I do against these rumors? I’m not even fucking hungry anymore. That butch Ashley.’

You just went back to your room and thought and thought and thought. ‘Always everything happens to me. Why does it have to be me after what happened to me in my past? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why.’

You couldn’t help but overthink and almost forgot about training. You practically ran when you saw the time: 7:58. You can’t afford to be late. You don’t want to be punished. Today you had to train sniping. 

You made it in time after running none stop to where König was. He looked at you surprised for looking a bit disheveled, before putting back his stoic persona. 

When the training began you first started it warm up and then you had to fight a little, which was unfair due to his size. When throwing you on the ground, his hands lingered on your wrists pinned to the side a tad bit too long, maybe you just imagined it. But when you started to train sniping he was right behind you and a little too close, which was crazy because it’s been only a damn week. So you didn’t think that this meant something. But his breath practically mingled on your neck trough the mask. This went on the whole training. The way too closeness than necessary and the breath on your neck which distracted you and made your shots a bit more inaccurate than usual.

Finally 8 hours of training were over, but when you thought you can go König stopped you, but not by his words, but by putting his hand on your shoulder while standing behind you. He said in his menacing voice.

“We need to talk. In my office. Now.”

So that’s how you found yourself in his office pinned by his eyes across from you.

“These rumors I heard about you, they’re ridiculous and I know they’re not true. Would you mind telling me who set them into the world?”

You shook your head, because snitching is not the right way.

“It’s ok. I already know who it is. You know that I can do something about it, but I want something in exchange.”

‘There is goes again. He probably wants to use me and my body as all the other men wanted.’ That’s whats you thought but then you were surprised.

“I want you to help me look after my sisters child. She and her husband are working hard and they even are often away in the weekend. I need help with that. I know nothing about kids.

You couldn’t believe your ears. He invited you to help him in exchange? Help looking after his sisters baby? So if that’s all he wanted you still were a bit frozen in mind. You couldn’t decline the offer because you didn’t want the rumors reach the higher up’s and make you potentially lose your job at KorTac. So the only logic thing you said after staring at him and he at you for minutes was:

“Ok. I can do that.”

“Give me your number so I can call you when to come. Not your number for KorTac but your real number.”

“My number is 7341********”

You said it without hesitating, because if that’s all it took to make him make the rumors somehow die down, then that’s a clear deal. But you couldn’t grasp the way your stomach told you, that that’s not the only reason he invited you to his actual home to help or ask for your real number. There was other meanings behind it. There must be, because your gut feeling was always right. 

But what was it?

**To be continued**

[stxrborne]

PRECISION

|| Feitan x neutral! Reader ||

|| dt to @after-witch @ddarker-dreams @depravitycentral for inspiring me to finally get off my ass and write, and also for their amazing works ofc! check them out! ||

It’s ironic, Feitan thinks, to sew up the wounds of his victims. But they can’t die just yet.

His thin, long fingers push the needle through the victims skin of their inner thigh, and he gives out a light scoff in mockery when they whimper. Little rich boy can’t handle a little pain? He hates these rich types that think they can pull one over on the troupe. They were fun to interrogate, they always worked up his temper where taking it out on them was something he looked forward to. Due punishment, not only for their bratty, pretentious attitude, but their lucky pull in birth circumstances. Feitan acts as their comeuppance.

He’ll give it to this victim, however, still holding on to the information despite it all. Usually his male victims would start spilling whatever they knew when Feitan picked up a hammer and pushed their thighs apart. But here his victim was, crying and whimpering, and now a eunuch, and still not speaking.

Feitan finishes his stitches with a clean knot, and sets the needle and thread aside on his medical tool tables. He likes to pride himself in his efficiency and perfection. After all, torture required just as much knowledge of the human body as a surgeon. The image of Feitan as a doctor, in a different life, flashed in his mind and he laughed aloud. Maybe. Maybe if he was born lucky. Maybe if he didn’t have to learn surgery and amputations from the cruelty of his home.

After all, doctors can’t save everyone. And he didn’t see the point in willingly putting that responsibility and burden on yourself. Especially for ungrateful rich brats.

No, it was much easier to take life than to protect it. Much more fulfilling too. Other people aren’t your responsibility.

How funny though, Feitan thought. To now have something to willingly burden yourself with.

His ears pricked up to his victim shuffling in his chains, and he turned to them. The man wasn’t remarkable, only one person really was in Feitan’s eyes. The only thing noticeable now was the man’s family crest Feitan had carved on the skin above his heart.

How can you claim to belong to something, if you can’t even mark yourself with it? When you die, how will people know where you belonged to?

Feitan takes the man’s face in between his hand, and moves his head around to inspect his work. He debated between leaving the cut next to eye, dropping a few drops of an infectious bacteria into it so the eye would eventually eat itself. It’d take about a week, and then another for the infection to spread to the rest of the body.

Feitan couldn’t help but smile at the image. He gripped his victims face with his nails, and told him so.

“It’d be funny to see you swell up with blood and pus. I wonder if you’d get fat like an ugly cyst, but you already don’t look all that different from one.”

He let him go unceremoniously, and watched as his head fell forward. Feitan will grant him the mercy of sleep. After all, a dog will still endure abuse if you feed it often enough.

“Feitan?”

He heard you before you reached the basement door of course. He knew where you were in the house at all times after all.

You knew you weren’t allowed to open the door. If you needed him, just knock or call his name. You think it’s because he’d have to kill you if you saw what he was doing.

He knows that, and thinks you’re silly. He wipes his bloodied hands with a clean cloth as he walks to the door. His eyes meet yours when he opens the door, and his gaze doesn’t leave yours as he closes it. You don’t even know what color the walls of the basement are.

Feitan looks you over, with the same precision he gives to everything. You’ve been picking at your hangnails again and for some reason you didn’t bother bandaging your thumb, where you had ripped and tore at the skin enough for it to bleed. Another thing is that you’re wearing nothing but a towel, which means one thing.

“I want to take a bath,” you say, your clasped hands nervously squeezing themselves. It was another thing you weren’t allowed to do on your own. You didn’t understand why, and you didn’t understand why he did the things he did. He’d set the water the way you like it, even though you don’t remember telling him. He scents it with fragrances and oils that you can tell are expensive, in your favorite scents too. He helps you in and then holds out your towel so he doesn’t see your naked body, and he swiftly turns and closes the curtain. He does the same when you’re ready to come out.

He has a chair he sits on, quietly and unmoving as he watches your silhouette. Maybe it’s a kink or fetish of some kind, you think. It had taken you a while to get use to. But something tells you it wasn’t that exactly. One time you had slipped when washing your body, and before you could fully gasp out in surprise, you were in his arms with his face to the side.

He didn’t act the way you expected a kidnapper would. But it still didn’t explain why you were here at all.

Feitan nods at you, and you lead the way. You’ve learned he preferred to be your second shadow than to be your leading light.

Your large bathroom was attached to your equally large room. Funny how you’ve started to refer to them as ‘yours’. It’s difficult not to, when he is somehow able to let you decorate it the way you want. Feitan does that often, you’ve found. No matter how expensive your request, and you have tested that, he will get it for you. You’re scared to ask how.

He begins his routine when you both step into the bathroom. He gets the water to the temperature you like and let the bath tub fill. The sound of the tub jets fill the air, and you watch as he drips expensive oils into the water. His movements are methodical, and somehow he’s figured out the ratio of water to oil that’s right for your skin.

Feitan doesn’t dare mix the water with his hand.

Your nose is soon filled with the scent, and you feel your tense shoulders slowly let go and relax. He’s watching you, you know that. He stops the faucet when the tub fills up, and you walk up the small steps and stand in front of him.

A part of you is always tempted to touch. His pale skin is smooth and such a contrast to his dark hair. This close, you can see just a hint of green in his black eyes, the way they don’t seem to blink. You wonder if he is even human.

You nod softly and he moves behind you. You can’t even feel his presence, hear his breath, and you slightly jump when he reaches to gently clasp the small fold that holds your towel up.

Feitan waits until you calm again to continue. He never touches you directly, not even a stray touch from any finger. He takes off your towel and spreads it as a barrier between you and him.

But then you do something that has his heart beating and stopping erratically. His breath catches in his throat, your gaze turning to him and he feels trapped beneath it. How do you not know how much power you have over him?

His eyes instantly move to the way you nervously bite at your lip. Somehow he can know everything about you, how you think, how you word those thoughts, and yet now, he can’t believe what he thinks you’re going to say.

“…help me?” You say slowly, so quietly that a normal person wouldn’t have heard you.

But you know he did. And you don’t drop your eyes from him.

Feitan, in return, lets the towel drop.

[sinful-lanterns]

Not my immediate thoughts from the Koryyn x Mira being getting punished.

Just you act up, getting bratty, and acting naughty all while Korryn just cheers you on and cackles in the background, only to be cut silent when she sees Mira. Caught red handed and clearly visible on the petite woman's face that she is NOT happy with the two of you.

Getting thrown over her shoulders together, Korryn kicking and squirming cause she "did nothing wrong" meanwhile poor sweet reader(I'm imagining cowgirl reader, but regular reader also fits) has gone still in her hold, knowing damn well what's coming.

She throws you both down on the bed, Koryyn again flailing to lay face up, but reader knows better and gets into position on her own. Mira not terribly gently putting Koryyn into position with you, head down, ass up, hands behind her back. But since reader got into the pose on her own Mira gives her a stuffie to hold onto instead of having her hands behind her back.

And then just punishment time, Mira making both of you count eachothers spanking. Korryn getting five more then you for fighting. Then at the end when she's done and you've both apologized for being bad, she just pulls both her sweet girls into her arms and covers both your faces in kisses. Head pats, loving hugs, and just the best cuddles imaginable.

All comfy and cozy, at least until Mira adds on that neither of you are allowed to cum for three days. Both of you start whining about being unfair, at least until Mira has guided your mouth to her tits and Korryn's down between her legs.

Just brat tamer Mira.

~🐁

CW: Spanking, punishment, poly relationship, brat taming

Ahhh to be punished by Mira! Mira is definitely the surprising dom in the relationship. Many people expect Korryn to be in charge because she’s so brash and confident, but it’s really Mira pulling all the strings. Korryn is more so the troublemaker out of the trio, always encouraging you —the naive cow girl— to do all the mischievous things that Mira would scold you for; like stealing extra snacks from the kitchen or encouraging you to chew up the curtains because Korryn thinks they’re too ugly.

Cue Mira dragging you both by the ear so she could punish you both in the bedroom. She deals your spankings first, making you bend over and reveal that plump ass of yours to her while she grabs a paddle to spank you. Korryn is kneeling beside you with a cold sweat on her face as she watches you get hit repeatedly by the paddle, your ass getting all sore and tender while little moos leave your lips. Mira coos at how obedient you are even when taking your punishment, your cute tail flicking with each smack and just enticing Mira to grab it and tug on it playfully.

The stimulation of Mira spanking you and tugging on your tail is too much, so you accidentally come a little and stain the sheets with your excitement. Mira doesn’t mind though, she knows you’re a good girl and leans down to kiss your spotted cow ears. After soothing the rawness of your butt and making sure you learn your lesson, Mira then turns to Korryn so she can receive her punishment.

Korryn tries to swindle her way out of this but it’s no use, Mira is also a Tuco scammer so she can decipher Korryn’s lies better than anyone. Korryn then proceeds to let out yelps of pain because Mira doesn’t go easy on her like she did with you. By the end of it all, Korryn’s ass is as red as the desert sand and she’s pulling you into her arms for comfort while Mira cleans everything up. Your punishment isn’t over yet however. After a quick water break and some snuggles on the bed between your girlfriends, expect Mira to cheekily pull you both to service her as she expects both of you to use your tongues for pleasure rather than talking back. And what better way to do that than to have you and Korryn eat her out at the same time? 💕

[sevikaslapdog]

A Secret..

(but not really)

Summary: You always thought your brother’s best friend was cute, but him being his best friend made him off limits. Thought Geto couldn’t contain himself when it came it Gojo’s little sis.

Warnings: highschool au, no curses au, two year age gap (he’s 18 reader is 16), cursing, suggestive themes, use of y/n, fem reader, reader is Gojo’s sister

It was winter break which only meant one thing, your brother Gojo would have his friend over the whole two weeks you were out of school.

They were both seniors while you were a junior, you didn’t mind most of Gojo’s friends since they weren’t as annoying as him. But Geto was your favorite of them all, he was always respectful towards you and nice despite Gojo being the opposite.

Whenever he had friends over he would practically lock you into your bedroom claiming ‘No one wants to see your ugly face.’ Though you never listened as it was your house too, duh.

Right now was the second day of winter break and you were working on a project one of your teachers assigned to do during the break. You wanted to get it done as soon as possible so you had more free time, and so you didn’t forget about it. Your hand started to cramp as you had been typing for the past two hours, cursing to yourself as you shook your hand around to get rid of the pain.

Letting out a huff you stretched out your body thats been hunched over your desk for the past two hours. You stood up and slipped on your house slippers before exiting your room, silently padding down the stairs. You could hear your brother and Geto in the living room watching some movie, walking past them to go to the kitchen.

You decided to make some ramen, a quick lunch before you continued your essay. As you were waiting for your water to boil you head footsteps easing towards the kitchen. Your eyes flickered to the entrance as soon as Geto walked in, he hummed whenever he saw you “What’re you making?” He inched closer towards the stove. “Some ramen, want me to make you some?”

He glanced over at you before walking to the fridge, “Yea, id appreciate it.” You only nodded at him, grabbing another pack out the cabinet.

He couldn’t help but let his eyes flickered to your ass when you bent over, those tiny shorts left really nothing to the imagination. He let out a low whistle, smiling as you quickly stood and turned to face him with a glare. “Stop being a pervert” He only laughed slightly walking over to you, he placed a hand on top of your head and patted it twice before leaning on the counter next to the stove.

“I was only messing with you, calm down.” You rolled your eyes as you opened up the ramen packs, placing the noodles in the pot. You went over to the cabinet grabbing two bowls, “Grab some chopsticks” Geto huffed but complied. He got you both a pair of chopsticks and placed them on the counter next to the bowls, “I’ll bring you yours when it’s ts done.

You flashed him a small smile before stirring the noodles, he mumbled a small ‘alright’ before walking out the kitchen and sat down on the couch. You could hear your brother ask him what took so long and Geto telling him to shut up and watch the movie.

Shortly the noodles were done, and you made your bowl along with his. You cleaned up your messed before exiting the kitchen, walking up behind the couch. “Here ya’ go” You held out his bowl, not missing the way his hand brushed against yours. “Hey why didn’t you make me any?!” You looked over at Gojo, “Cause you’re a grown man who can make his own noodles.” Geto smiled slyly as he slurped up some noodles.

He flashed you a small smile before you turned around and went back upstairs.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It’s now been two hours and it’s pushing eleven pm, you ended up procrastinating the essay and went on your phone. Now you were trying to get back into the grove of it but it just wasn’t working, you kept typing a sentence but then it didn’t make sense so you delete it. You’ve been doing this for the past twenty minutes.

You heard a soft knock on your door, “come in” you didn’t bother to see who it was knowing it was Geto. Cause Gojo never knocked, always barged in like it was his room.

You heard the door shut behind him and his socked feet padding against the rug in your room, you could feel his body heat as he stood behind you. You continued to stare at the essay before you tipped your head back, the top of your head now pressed against his lower stomach. He looked down at you with an amused smile.

“Struggling?” All you could do was groan and pick your head back up, “This makes no sense.” You saw his arms come around you, him now leaning over you as he stared at your screen. A hum left his mouth, “Ah I remember doing this.”

You quickly let out a gasp, “Oh my god please help me Suguru, I cant do it.” You let your voice slip into a whine as you shamelessly leaned back against him. He let out a sigh, but picked your laptop up off your desk. “Yea it was pretty easy for me anyways.”

He walked over to your bed, sitting down with his feet hanging a bit off the side with his back against the wall. He was wearing a loose black long sleeve and black sweatpants, while you were wearing your favorite hoodie and still in the same sleeping shorts from earlier.

You slid off your desk chair and sat down next to him with your legs in a criss cross, your left knee was slightly on his right leg due to the closeness. “How come you’re not with Gojo?” He was easily typing away, “He fell asleep on the couch, i’m not tired yet so I decided to come hang out with you.” You let a small smile sneak onto your face, “Well I am the better sibling so that makes perfect sense.”

You and him both laughed for a moment, you leaned over to your nightstand to grab your phone off the charger. Once you sat back down half your left leg was now resting on his. He didn’t seem to mind so you didn’t bother moving, “I dunno if Gojo told you but i’m staying over the whole break, my parents went out on some ski vacation.”

You hummed, looking over at him. Your eyes widened slightly when you saw the small earring on his ear, “You got your ears pierced?!” You didn’t care to hide your shock. You lifted your hand to the side of his neck with your thumb brushing against the blue jewl in his ear.

He snickered at your reaction, turning his head slightly to look at you. “Yea, got ‘em a couple weeks ago.” He used the opportunity to look at you, his eyes scanning your face and resting on your lips that were slightly chapped no doubt you were biting on them earlier. “Yea, they look nice.” You subtly ran your thumb against his jaw before pulling your hand away.

“Y’know now since you’re eighteen you should totally get a tattoo, would make you look hot.” You raised your brows a couple times, clearly teasing. Geto rolled his eyes and looked back to your laptop, but a sly smirk was etched on his face.

You let out a huff as he ignores your teasing, “Can I ask you a question?” He turns back to you, nodding with curiosity. Tilting your head to get a good look at him before you ask, voice soft due to the personal nature of the question “How come you’re never at home? You’re always here, I mean I don’t mind i’m just curious.”

You could see the way Geto’s expression changed slightly darker, shaking your head “Never mind pretend i didn’t ask, ‘m sorry.” He could only smile slightly, grateful he didn’t have to explain his complicated home life to you. You shift closer towards him, uncrossing your legs and instead laying them out with your left leg pressed against his.

His hang off the bed more than yours due to the height difference, you and him sit in silence besides the soft noises of him typing, and the hum of your fan that stays on even during the harsh winters.

Minutes later he places the laptop in your lap, his fingers brushing against your thighs as he pulls them from under the laptop. “It’s all done, you can change some things if you prefer. Im gonna head to bed,” He gets up off your bed “goodnight y/n.” You looked up at him with a grateful smile. “goodnight Suguru.”

As he left your bedroom he tried to forget how plush your thighs looked while squished against the mattress, the way you looked up at him with your pretty eyelashes, how his name sounded in your voice. He shook it off and went into Gojo’s bedroom, lying down on his bed despite him still being downstairs.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The next morning neither you or Geto mentioned last night, knowing that your brother Gojo would flip out and complain. But also it kinda felt like.. your own little secret. The whole day you two shared glances, like whenever him and Gojo were sitting in the kitchen eating some takeout, your brother hurriedly pushed you some food and told you to get out. You looked over at Geto, making eye contact as his eyes grew slightly softer.

Even whenever you walked past Gojo’s bedroom, with the door open you looked in and made brief eye contact with him before you walked past.

Thats how it went the whole day, until it was nighttime again and you were watching your new show you started on your tv. Not caring it was a little too loud for the time it was now, you shamelessly wished Geto would sneak into your room again tonight.

Of course, minutes later a soft knock sounded against your bedroom door. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on your face, turning down the tv just a bit as you spoke “Come in.”

Geto pushed open the door, closing it behind him. He walked over to your bed. You were sitting against the headboard with your legs covered by the blankets, he slipped off the slippers he always wore and crawled up next to you. Sliding his legs under your blanket.

You looked over at him with a smug expression “My brother must be really boring huh?” He let out a huff, lightly kicking your leg with his foot. “He fell asleep again, plus you’re not bad company.” A smile slipped on your face again before you turned back to the tv.

As more time went on it seemed you two only got closer, his thigh was now pressed against yours along with your shoulders. You could hear the blanket shuffling a bit and before you could question it you felt cold knuckles brushing along your thigh. You sucked in a sharp breath which he picked up on, he took you not saying anything in protest as a sign to continue.

He unfolded his hand and moving his hand to rest on your thigh, resting it there unmoving. You bit your lip as you glanced down, obviously you couldn’t see his hand due to it being under the covers but that only made the blush on your face worsen.

Geto spared a glance to your face, fondly smiling as he saw your flustered appearance. “This ok?” You turned to look at him, nodding your head “Yea ‘s fine.” He hummed, thumb brushing against your skin before focusing back on the show.

As time passed you let your head fall to rest against his shoulder, and you ignored the way your eyelids grew heavy. Inevitably you drifted off to sleep, it only took him a couple minutes to realize. He stared down at your face, feeling his heart beating a bit quicker when he took in how adorable you looked.

His hand slipped off your thigh, as he moved away from you he supported your head with his hand. Softly and slowly guiding you to lay down, once your head was against the pillow he moved out the bed. He paused once he heard you grumble before slightly sitting up, “Goodnight Suguru.” He smiled and walked over to the side of your bed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “Goodnight sweet girl.” You hummed as you tucked yourself back under the covers, Geto grabbed your remote off your nightstand and turned off the tv.

As he walked to Gojo’s room he could only smile, blushing like a flustered preteen when he remembered how you said his name so affectionately.

Though all that disappeared whenever he had to move Gojo’s unconscious body to the other side of the bed so he could fit, cursing to himself whenever he wouldn’t budge.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

It’s now been a couple days since then, Geto hasn’t come to your room the past few nights so whenever you realized he was probably on the couch you slid off your bed. Just to be sure you peeked into your brother’s room only to see him alone on his bed, knocked out.

You let out a huff, smiling once you saw some droll. You closed his door before walling quietly down the steps, padding into the living room. Geto looked up expecting maybe Gojo woke up but when he saw you a fond smile slipped onto his face.

He was laying down on the couch, watching some movie you didn’t recognize. You stood in-front of him as he lifted the blanket for you, sheepishly you crawled under the blanket. Lying down while your back was against his chest, his arm snaked around your waist.

You knew you’re were blushing, you could feel it. He hooked his chin onto your shoulder “Hi sweet girl,” hearing the pet name only worsened your flustered state “was about to come up to see you.” You smiled, rolling over to face him. “Guess I beat you to it.” He could only smile at your competitive nature.

“Guess so.” He kept his arm around your waist, he pulled you closer. Instinctively your leg draped across him, “What if my brother wakes up?” You couldn’t help but worry, you were practically on top of his best friend right now where he no doubt was just sitting earlier.

His eyes glanced over to the stairs before shaking his head, looking back at you “He’s out like a light, don’t worry your pretty head.” Smiling at his little compliment you nodded, as you both stared at each other you realized. What were you two doing?

Seemingly Geto noticed your mind drifting, lifting his other arm to snake his hand under your chin. “What is it?” biting your lip nervously you glanced away before sighing. “What are we Suguru?” He huffs out a breath at your question which only freaks you out more.

Maybe he didn’t want to be anything you, maybe you read into it wrong, maybe, maybe, maybe. Your mind was running a hundred miles per hour at this point, and of course he noticed. He brushed his thumb over your bottom lip, “Wanna be yours.” He smiled as your eyes widened slightly, how you breathed out in shock.

“Really?” He nodded to your question, placing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Yea, been waiting to make a move on your sweet girl. But just for now we gotta keep it a secret, just until I find the right time to tell your brother yea?” All you could do was nod, out of words.

Silence took over the room for what felt like minutes before you spoke, “So we’re dating?” He laughed shortly at your question. Placing another kiss to your cheek, “Yea were dating pretty girl.”

A smile broke out onto your face, biting your lip to try to fight it but it was no use. He was already smiling back at you, moving the hand from under your chin to brush through your hair. “Wanna take things slow, do it the proper way.” You nodded along “Mhm, me too.” You placed another kiss to your forehead before pulling your head to rest on his chest.

Unfortunately, you and him both fell asleep on the couch. Tangled together, and seemingly on top one another. Whenever you woke up you were immediately greeted by yelling, as you groggily opened your eyes. Realizing where you were your blood ran cold.

Suguru was already awake, of course still next to you but he was sitting up. You then heard your brother, “What the hell are you two doing?!” You sat up and snapped your head to your brother. Once his eyes landed on you its like your heart stopped, you were scared for his reaction. Wondering if he’ll be mad at you, yell at you, maybe even drag you away from Suguru.

“What the hell are you doing huh!?!” You glanced away from him momentarily to look at Suguru, he looked just as shocked at you to be awoken like this. You looked back at your brother who now hand his hands on his hips waiting for either of you two to respond.

He then turned his gaze to Suguru, you sucked in a breath. “I mean cmon I know you were always ogling at my sister but doing it on the couch?!” At this your jaw dropped, as his eyes widened. You both began to shake your head, “No, we didnt do that you idiot!” You spoke first, standing up off the couch.

The blanket slipped off this couch and much to Gojo’s delight you were both fully clothed and no.. substances were on the couch. He let out a sigh of relief, “Oh thank the heavens.” His shoulders sagged slightly at he looked between you both, “Well I don’t care,” turning back to you “but that doesn’t mean you get to hog him to yourself.”

It grew silent for a while, then Gojo walked into the kitchen out of your sight. You turned to face Suguru as he shrugged. You both looked at each other for a moment before breaking out into giggles, you sliding back onto the couch next to him. He placed a kiss onto your lips, you both still laughing slightly.

He rested his forehead against yours, “So much for a keeping it a secret huh?” You smiled, placing a small peck onto his lips before your brother came back. Ruining the moment and shooing you away upstairs.

home

[wrrrenff]

How the Stardew Valley Bachelors React When the Farmer Injures Themselves

TW:// slight injury

Ahh... The crops have all been watered and the animals all have been fed. I deserve a snack!

The farmer starts their trek back to their farmhouse, thinking about what they might throw together in the kitchen. Suddenly you adorable pet bolts in front of you trying to chase a bird, and trips you! You land hard on the ground. You groan, your body feeling sore but overall fine, and get up. You dust yourself off only to notice that you landed on some sticks and they scraped up your arm pretty bad. It honestly didn't really hurt. It did look pretty ugly though. Hopefully no one will notice it once it's all cleaned up...

Harvey:

'Hey Far-'

Notices IMMEDIATELY

I mean c'mon of course he does. HES A DOCTOR

Doctor mode activated

Asks if he can take a closer look and fully inspects your arm

Asks what you used to clean it and scolds you when you say you just rinsed it off

Drags you back to his office and properly washes and bandages you

He's been so worried about what caused this the whole time but doesn't ask. He want you to share the cause only if you're comfortable

Let's out the biggest sigh of relief when he finds out it wasn't anything serious that caused this

Is on your ass making sure you are properly cleaning the wound and changing your bandage

Will softly kiss your bandages and forehead

'Thank yoba you have such an attentive doctor to take care of you'

Alex:

Despite how tough and nonchalant Alex may seem, I think he would be pretty worried and maybe even a little squeamish toward your injury

He does get injured sometimes playing gridball but the man is clueless when it come to caring for those injuries

He would usually just go to his grandma for help... which is exactly what he did with you

'Grandma can you help the farmer? They're hurt pretty bad. I-I just want to make them feel better'

After Evelyn patches you up, he grabs a blanket and something from his room then suggests you two go take a walk on the beach

Once at the beach he lays out the blanket and you both sit

That's when he pulls out his mothers music box and opens it, letting the soothing music play

'Mom would hum this while taking care of me and it always help me feel better. Maybe it'll be the same for you'

He will hold you and kiss you to help you forget about your pain

Shane:

I feel like he wouldn't notice immediately. Maybe 2 or 3 days after it happened and it's already pretty scabbed over

'Woah farmer, did one of you chickens get you?'

Tries to keep it together but is freaking out inside

Buys you a drink to 'help with the pain'

Gets a drink for himself to calm the fear of other things that could hurt you

Starts taking more 'walks around the valley' just to stop by the farm and make sure you stay safe

Sam:

'How'd you get that mean scrape farmer?''

He wasn't even fazed

He almost immediately assumed you just hurt yourself farming

He knew it couldn't be serious since you were still acting like your usual self

Sam has had some nasty injuries from skating around so he was a PRO when it came to cleaning and bandaging

Kept on you to change you bandages

Once he got a bad infection from not cleaning his scrape enough and he DOES NOT want you to have to deal with that

Will force you to hang with him and watch movies/eat snacks to keep you from overexerting yourself

Elliot:

If he sees your injury fresh I fully believe this man would faint

'Oh darling what happened? Did someone hurt you? Was it an animal? O-oh it was some... sticks? Those dastardly sticks!!"

Man will treat you like you broke you arm

I'm talking, making your food for you, drawing you baths, tucking you into bed, even doing your farming for you

You insist your fine but he wont hear it

Will cover your arm in kisses to make you feel better

Stays on top of cleaning your wound

He will definitely take inspiration from this moment for his novel

Sebastian:

Noticed it as soon as you walked into his room

He didn't want to say anything about it but you noticed his eyes were basically glued to your arm

His mind immediately went to the mines since he's seen you go in and out many times while he goes out to smoke

Is so relieved that is was just from some stupid sticks

He will absentmindedly rub the injury lightly when he's sitting near you

Lets you lay in his bed while he works to make you feel better, definitely not because he wants to keep an eye on you and make sure you don't hurt yourself more

[littlelamy]

I don't actually have an idea but I really wanted some angst for rafe 😭 I think rafe was written especially for angst lovers, best friend's brother and pogue reader. that's him coded. I don't really know what to ask but maybe something with him struggling to get clean (with his coke addiction and all) with a reader who's part of the p4l team, so she sees him in private and no one knows and he tried really hard to be better to not disappoint her

i hope you like it! ⭐️the sound of waves crashing against the shore barely registered as you walked toward the old, rickety pier, the sun beginning to set over the horizon, casting everything in a warm golden hue. it was a typical evening in the outer banks, but tonight felt different. you had been feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders lately, especially with rafe.

he was your best friend’s brother, the kind of guy who had a reputation for being reckless, but he was also the one you had developed a soft spot for. rafe had always been a part of your life, but recently, it was more complicated. he was struggling with his demons—his addiction to coke—and you found yourself constantly torn between wanting to help him and the fear of losing him to that darkness.

as a member of the P4L, you had seen the ugly side of addiction up close. it was raw and painful, and rafe’s situation was a constant reminder of the risks you faced living in the outer banks, where privilege and poverty collided. no one outside of your small circle knew the extent of rafe’s struggle, but you had made it your mission to be there for him, even when it felt like you were walking on a tightrope.

you found him at the end of the pier, leaning against the weathered wood, staring out at the water. his expression was distant, lost in thoughts that you could only guess. when he saw you, a flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly masked by a feigned nonchalance. “what are you doing here?” he asked, attempting to sound casual, but you could hear the tension in his voice.

“i wanted to see you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. the breeze caught your hair, and you tucked a strand behind your ear, nervously avoiding his gaze. “i’ve been worried.”

rafe let out a short, humorless laugh. “worried? for me? that’s a first.”

“don’t be an ass,” you shot back, crossing your arms defensively. “you know I care about you.”

“yeah, well…” he trailed off, looking back at the horizon. “caring about me is a bad idea.”

“why?” you stepped closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “because you think you’re beyond help? or because you’re too proud to admit you need it?”

he turned to face you, his blue eyes flashing with an intensity that made you swallow hard. “you don’t understand. this isn’t some fairy tale where everything gets better if you just try hard enough. i’m fighting something that’s bigger than me.”

“then let me fight it with you,” you pleaded, feeling the heat of the moment pressing down on both of you. “you don’t have to do this alone.”

“you don’t know what you’re asking for,” he snapped, frustration spilling over. “what if i fuck up? what if i disappoint you?”

“i’d rather have you try and fail than not try at all,” you countered, your voice steadying. “but you have to want it, rafe. you can’t keep doing this—hiding from everyone and pretending like you’re okay.”

he ran a hand through his hair, the gesture both familiar and painful to witness. “i don’t want to disappoint you. i want to be better… for you.”

“then let me help,” you urged, reaching out to take his hand. he hesitated before accepting your touch, the warmth of your skin igniting something deep within him. “we’ll figure it out together. one step at a time.”

for a moment, silence enveloped you both, the waves providing a soothing soundtrack to the chaos in rafe’s mind. he looked down at your intertwined hands, the contrast of your warmth against his coldness serving as a stark reminder of how far he had fallen.

“you really want this?” he asked, vulnerability seeping into his tone. “you’re not just saying it because you feel sorry for me?”

“i want this, rafe,” you affirmed, squeezing his hand. “i want you. not the person you think you are, but the person you can be.”

“i don’t even know if that person exists anymore,” he admitted, the façade crumbling. “the drugs make me feel alive, but then i crash. and i don’t want to drag you down with me.”

“i’ve seen you at your best, rafe. you’re so much more than your addiction,” you said softly. “you just have to believe that.”

he studied your face, searching for any hint of doubt, but all he found was sincerity. it terrified him how much he wanted to believe you. “what if i let you down?” he whispered, the fear in his eyes cutting deep.

“then we’ll pick up the pieces together,” you replied, your heart aching for him. “you don’t have to be perfect. you just have to be you.”

for the first time in a long time, rafe felt the weight on his chest lighten just a little. he drew in a deep breath, steeling himself for the fight ahead. “i’ll try,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “but no promises.”

“that’s all i’m asking for,” you replied, relief flooding your senses.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the pier, you and rafe stood side by side, your fingers still intertwined. it wouldn’t be easy, and the road ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but for the first time in a long while, rafe felt like he had someone worth fighting for.

after a moment, rafe turned to you, the weight of your shared promise hanging between you. “you know, it’s not just about the drugs,” he said, his voice lower now, filled with a seriousness that made your stomach flutter. “it’s about everything. my past… my mistakes. sometimes, i don’t know how to let go.”

you met his gaze, your heart racing. “you don’t have to carry it all alone, rafe. you can share it with me.”

he stepped closer, the warmth radiating off him making you feel dizzy. “i want to,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “i want to share everything with you.”

as the last rays of sun disappeared behind the water, a heavy silence hung in the air. you could feel the tension building, the space between you charged with an electricity you had never experienced before. instinctively, you leaned in closer, heart pounding as rafe’s eyes flickered down to your lips.

“can i—” he started, but you didn’t let him finish. you closed the gap, pressing your lips against his. it was tentative at first, a mix of hesitation and longing, but as he responded, deepening the kiss, everything else faded away. the salty breeze and the sound of crashing waves became background noise as you lost yourself in him.

his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if he was afraid you might disappear. you melted into him, the kiss igniting a fire deep within your chest. it was everything you had been feeling for so long, a release of the tension that had built between you, and a promise of the fight ahead.

when you finally pulled back, both of you breathless, rafe rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. “that was… wow,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“yeah,” you breathed, still reeling from the moment. “wow.”

“i’m glad i have you,” he murmured, his thumb brushing your cheek. “this… this feels right.”

“it does,” you agreed, smiling softly. “and we’ll get through this together. one step at a time.”

as the stars began to twinkle above, you knew that this was just the beginning of something new—something that might just save him, and perhaps save you both.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser @rafecameroninterlude @sstargirln

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Ruffling Feathers

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x gn!pilot!reader

Masterlist

Summary: "It’s not my fault that your callsign is a flightless bird, dumbass." OR You hated Rooster. And his mustache. ...Until he made it hard to.

Word Count: ~4.6k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers. Arguing. Quite a bit of swearing. Flirting. Jealousy. Depictions of a plane crash and hospital room. Some angst, some comfort, some suggestiveness, and lots of fluff.

*Reader's callsign is Spider

A/n: Guess I just love writing angry!Rooster lol. This one took me a little bit, but I'd love to hear what you think! Thank you for reading <3

--

Stomping through the corridor, your flight suit pushed down to your waist, you tried calculating how hard you’d have to punch Rooster to knock that ugly mustache off his face —- or at least the stupid smug grin he always wore. Maybe Cyclone would only give you a lecture since you’re doing everyone a favor by shutting Rooster up.

The pain from digging your fingernails into your palm did nothing to distract you from the anger rising through your body. Just when you’d get the fastest time on the team, there he’d be climbing from his plane with a time just barely beating yours. You’d answer one of Cyclone’s questions in class only for Rooster to correct you on the most insignificant detail — all with that shit-eating smile.

He was a careful pilot, one that didn’t always act on impulse. But he threw all of that out the window when it came to you, clogging the comms with his amused comments to throw you off concentration. You didn’t take that lying down, either. 

But today, the back-and-forth bickering came with a cost. He’d been in the middle of throwing an insult your way, even though you were on the same team, when Coyote shouted through the comms at him.

“You’re down.”

His only response came with a string of swears.

Phoenix quickly followed with, “Got you too, Spider” as she locked onto your jet too. Her words had you dropping your head back against the seat, realizing Rooster came last with you just barely above him.

All that fighting had thrown you off, making both of your flying sloppy. You told him as much on the tarmac as you both completed 100 push ups for coming out at the bottom. As a burn bled through your arms, you considered strangling Rooster. Maybe when he wasn’t looking, like in the shower. Not that you often thought of him showering.

But now, walking toward the locker room, your anger began to subside — despite the sweat dripping along the side of your face and your aching arms. But any hope for peace shattered when you rounded the corner, nearly bumping into Rooster. 

A scowl immediately overtook your expression as you stepped back, taking in his form — already clean and sweat-free. It only fueled the explosive fire inside you. “Watch where you’re going, Bradshaw,” you told him.

“You should’ve listened to that advice in the air today, sweetheart,” Rooster shot back, his gaze locked on you. He had slicked back his hair, the ends of it still dripping wet.

You crossed your arms, accidentally making your slick skin stick together. “Oh, eat shit. You sabotaged me on purpose today.”

“Oh, so trying to save your ass is sabotage now?” He lifted an eyebrow, that frustrating glint in his eyes.

“God, you just never shut up, do you? Clearly, ‘saving my ass’ didn’t work, did it? And maybe if you stopped talking for one minute, I could actually focus on flying instead of wishing my plane would ram into yours.”

“Me?” Rooster nearly shouted, his jaw ticking. He stepped just an inch closer when you nodded as if it were obvious. “You’re the one that kept saying I couldn’t fly for shit, and look who actually can’t.”

“It’s not my fault that your callsign is a flightless bird, dumbass. And that was only because you kept calling me an asshole,” you told him, now pointing a finger right into his chest.

He scoffed at you. “Oh, and I wonder why I’d ever say something like that, Spider.”

With how close his face was to yours now, you could pick out the pool of colors in his eyes or count the freckles across his tanned cheeks. And before another retort could come to mind, the sound of someone coming toward the two of you echoed from the other end of the hall.

You broke away from him, telling yourself that your quickened pulse came from how infuriated Rooster made you. “Whatever,” you muttered, sidestepping him and making the rest of the walk to the locker room, your heart in your throat the entire way.

Ripping your flight suit off and finally getting clean, even with shaky arms, you finally took a slow breath. Your fingers rubbed down your face as water from the showerhead dripped along your body. You scrubbed until your skin grew angry with you — but you just let the water wash away the day, the setbacks, and any thoughts of Rooster, promising yourself that you wouldn’t let him get the better of you again.

And you’d kept your word for a little bit, biting your tongue when he tried to get under your skin. Turning the other way when Hangman joined it to revel in the teasing. Instead, you let Phoenix rip him to shreds when they got on her nerves too. Things quieted down even — hallway spats became silent head nods as you passed one another. You’d call that a win, especially since his mouth stayed shut.

It certainly became easier to tune him out when flying, just focusing on you and the plane speeding through the air. Hangman gave an instigating laugh, but all you saw was the course to run. Breathe in, breathe out. You were a good pilot.

And when you came back down, Cyclone congratulated you on getting the fastest time of the day. You nearly waited for the inevitable “But…” that followed after Rooster, but it never came. Instead, you were met with a pat on the back from Bob and Phoenix and no extra push ups for the day. 

Your body felt lighter as you walked to the locker room, back to your room, and even all the way to The Hard Deck. Fresh and wearing clothes that actually fit well, you entered arm-in-arm with Phoenix to the bar.

You two ordered drinks, chatting with Penny as the place grew busier as the night passed along. She quickly became too distracted to keep talking, but you just sipped on your drink, enjoying the good mood. More pilots arrived, giving you the chance to talk with them in between turns at the pool table. 

Coyote even convinced Bob to a game, goading the rest of you into placing bets. The laughter and smiles between everyone brought a glow to your vision. You and Phoenix were the only ones to bet on Bob winning, but it was worth it for his wide grin.

And despite Rooster also showing up, in that horrible Hawaiian shirt of his, you still managed to avoid him and keep civil. He didn’t even try to instigate anything — though that didn’t stop you from looking away any time he caught your eyes on him. But the competitive game going on proved distraction enough.

Coming down to the final shot, the game had every pilot leaning in. Several of them threw comments out to distract Bob as he lined up his shot. But a smile broke out on your face as Bob sunk the 8 ball, beating Coyote, and leaving both of them with looks of complete disbelief. 

You threw up your hands, clapping louder than all the booing. Others eventually joined in despite their losing bets, cheering for Bob’s unexpected victory. The way Coyote shook his head had you giggling until your stomach hurt. 

You gave a congratulatory pat on Bob’s shoulder as you thanked him for the money he won you. Collecting the pool of cash along with Phoenix, you told her, “Going to head to the bar, spend my winnings on another drink.”

She gave you a smile before you weaved through the crowd. Over the cheers and music, you asked Penny for another drink as you counted up your winnings. Plenty happy with the amount, you waited, turning around and resting your body back against the bar’s edge. The bubbling warmth never left your body when you hung out like this. Though a voice to your side broke you from the moment.

“You can put that drink on my tab, actually. Thanks.”

Turning, you were met with a handsome man you hadn’t seen here before. As Penny handed you your drink, you gave her a gracious nod. 

“Thank you, um…”

“Will,” he answered for you with a smile. And he certainly did have a nice smile. “To celebrate your victory.” He nodded toward the pool table, raising a beer to your drink.

“Well, he did all the work,” you laughed, leaning forward just an inch, though it was enough to pick up on the comforting scent coming from Will. You happily took a sip along with him.

“But you were smart enough to bet on him.”

A smile broke out on your face, gesturing out a hand as you said, “See! Finally, someone recognizes my gambling prowess.”

He bit back a grin of his own as he leaned his head in closer. His finger pointed toward the pool table again as he asked, “Alright, so since you’re an expert, who’s going to win the next one?”

You felt the heat of his body radiating onto you. The waves of it proved slightly distracting as you saw Hangman and Fanboy racking up the pool balls. Still staring at them, trying to hold back the warmth rushing to your cheeks, you said, “Tall, blond one definitely. He’ll cheat if he has to.”

“Okay, I won’t be going up against him then,” he laughed.

You turned back to Will, watching him run a hand through his dark hair. Did you wish your hand was going through his hair? Probably. 

He then asked, “Since you know how to pick winners, what are the odds of you beating me in pool?”

Raising your eyebrows, you told him, “Never seen you play, but I’d have to guess that you’d sink two in before I win.”

Lifting up his hands in surrender, Will shook his head. “Fair enough. I won’t put money on the line for that game. But…” he said, dragging his eyes across you, “what are the odds, then, of me taking you out sometime?”

You tried fighting the grin etching along your face at his cheesiness, not that you minded all that much when it came with that smile. As you were about to respond, the last person you wanted to see snuggled right up to your side.

“Hey Spider, Phoenix’s been asking for you,” Rooster said. His arm rested against the bar right behind your back, the weight of it along your spine.

You looked between him and Will, your teeth grinding together. “I’m sure she can wait a minute, Bradshaw.”

“Said it was important,” he insisted, smiling the entire time at the two of you. 

“Fine,” you muttered, offering a fake grin to Rooster. “I’ll be right back,” you told Will.

You pushed past Rooster, weaving through the crowd once again with your fist clenched. Of course he had to show up. You shook your head, willing yourself to keep him from getting to you.

Back with the team, you came back to find Hangman in the lead against Fanboy and quickly returned to Phoenix.

“Hey, what’s up? What’s going on?” you asked, hoping something terrible wasn’t happening.

But she sat there, beer in hand and a wide smile until she processed your words. “Just watching them play. What’s wrong?” Her eyebrows furrowed together. “Does it have to do with that hunk chatting you up over there… Oh, where’d he go?”

Your face twisted as you turned, standing on the tips of your toes and straining your neck to see over everyone. Right where you and Will had been was now occupied by strangers, the man nowhere to be seen. But you did find Rooster as he walked back toward your team.

“No goddamn way.” You muttered it under your breath, your face dropping in disbelief. “Hold this, I’m going to kick Bradshaw’s ass,” you told Phoenix. The blood rushing through you pounded in your ears, blocking out anything she might’ve said.

“Where is he?” you asked, venom laced in your voice as you walked up to Rooster. The laidback hang of his shoulders and that dumb fucking mustache nearly made you scream your words at him.

But Rooster just raised an eyebrow at you, holding his beer. “Where’s who?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing yourself to take a breath. “Will. The man I was talking with before you interrupted, remember?”

“Ah, right. He left, had to go somewhere.”

“God, Rooster. What did you say to him?” you asked, shoving a finger into his chest. “Though I don’t know why I’m asking since you’ll probably lie like you did about Phoenix.” You crossed your arms, squeezing them against your body.

Rooster sighed, bringing his beer up to his mouth to take a sip. 

“Look, I’ve seen him around here before. Goes home with someone different every time.”

Scoffing at him, you stared daggers through his eyes. “You’re so full of bullshit. Even if that is true, I can find that out for myself, okay? You’re not my dad or something.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to save you from getting your feelings hurt,” he said, pretending to put his hands in the air like he was innocent. “God knows how bad we’d crash and burn if your heartbroken ass did worse up there.” 

You stepped back, feeling like he knocked the air from your lungs. Pushing past him, your shoulder hitting his, you left The Hard Deck — not even to find Will. You couldn’t handle either of them right now, not when you had to deal with Rooster ruining your night while pretending to care about you.

After that, for your sake, you’d made it your mission to stay away from him as much as possible. You refused to acknowledge his comments or even look his way. Classes were quieter, and insults were no longer thrown across the halls at each other. At least you wouldn’t be misplacing your trust again.

You had other teammates you could rely on, could trust with your life. But either fate hated you or Cyclone loved drama because he paired you up with Bradley Bradshaw once again — as if the universe and the class had to have another laugh at your misery. You just nodded your head at Cyclone as he named the two of you off, standing so still as if it could help you disappear.

Talking rose again as duos came together to discuss the practice exercise. But not the two of you. Your hard stare just fixated on the horizon. Even hearing him clear his throat set your body on edge.

“I’m, uh, sorry for how last weekend went,” Rooster offered, rocking back and forth on his heels.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, not needing it to cause a lecture from Cyclone on how to work with your teammates. Your refusal to give an answer left a space of buzzing silence, one that Rooster filled again. “Didn’t mean to sabotage it, but I’m not letting a dickhead mess with my friends, alright?”

“Friends?” you asked, finally turning to look at him. “Is that what we are, Rooster?”

“Look, we’re on a team. We watch each other’s backs.”

A scoff escaped under your breath. “Oh, like when you got the both of us killed the last time we were on a team?”

As the words left your lips, Rooster placed his hand on your shoulder. The grip made you look at him straight, the sound of everyone else drifting to the background. “I never tried to sabotage you up there. I really tried to save your life. Okay?” His fingers squeezed when you didn’t answer. “Okay?”

With scrunched eyebrows, you said, “Okay, fine. Doesn’t mean you don’t flood the comms with useless talking to distract me, though.”

As his hand dropped back to his side, he raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh, so I’m distracting to you?” And there it was, that Bradshaw smug grin back in place. A small part of you in the back of your mind, or the left side of your chest, had missed it.

You weakly pushed against his arm, shaking your head. “I’m going to rip your mustache off.”

Cyclone called you all to start the exercise, the two of you among the first up. As you walked to your jets, Rooster said, “Oh, so you’re thinking about my mustache now? I understand, she is a beauty.”

You let out a long groan while fighting back a smile, which he absolutely saw through, before pulling on your helmets. Climbing into the plane and strapping in, you let the few moments of silence before flying into the sky center yourself again — to not let Rooster, good or bad, get in your head.

It was a regular dogfighting exercise, one that’d become part of the curriculum since Maverick came through. But it’d be you and Rooster against Hangman and Payback.

In the air, before it even began, in the buzzing quiet before it all descended into chaos, Hangman flew past you much too close for comfort. It shook your jet, making you let out a long sigh. You looked to your side, watching Rooster give you a thumbs up before Cyclone appeared in the comms. 

“First team to get a lock on both members of the other team wins. That easy,” he told you all.

That easy. They were good pilots, you all were. It’d be a long fight.

Immediately, you and Rooster split off in opposite directions. He climbed higher toward Hangman as you dropped, aiming for Payback’s jet.

Payback broke left, rolling his plane to the side as he evaded you. The world around you, the wispy clouds and landscape below, blurred past. Each time you came close to locking on, he’d pitch up or hit the throttle — always keeping you just out of reach.

“Spider, Hangman’s closing in on your six,” Rooster said through the comms.

In an instant, all of your focus on trying to eliminate Payback now switched to evading in any way you could.

“Almost got you now, Spider…” you could hear Hangman say. Your jaw clenched, your muscles squeezing harder with each passing second.

Braking hard, you rolled right toward the nearby cliffs, trying to keep him from locking on. You gained altitude with the little time you had of shaking Hangman for just a second, flying back around until you saw Payback in your view again.

If you went for him, Hangman would certainly be back on you in an instant.

But Rooster’s voice hit your ears. “Go for it.”

With those three little words, you threw your trust into Rooster. You sped up, diving for Payback and leaving Rooster to cover you. And he did. Without a second thought.

“Got lock.”

“You’re down!”

Your voice mixed with Hangman’s, two simultaneous kills. Hangman left Payback at your mercy. Rooster sacrificed himself to Hangman.

“See you back at base, Spider. Give him hell,” Rooster said, his jet peeling off and heading in the opposite direction alongside Payback’s.

You pulled up, looking all around for Hangman — until he showed up on your radar just below you.

“It’s almost too easy,” he drawled with that lazy laugh. 

Hitting the brakes, you pulled behind him. Just as you angled down, close to locking on, he rolled left, pitching the plane up and trying to loop behind you.

The two of you switched back and forth, the unrelenting sun piercing through the glass. Sweat began to bead along your forehead, dripping down to your neck.

Only once you’d chased Hangman toward the cliffs did you gain any sort of hope of taking him down. His flying became just a bit more reckless, giving you a chance to counter his maneuvers. Your lock grew closer and closer to his jet, your victory on the tip of your tongue.

The lock sound began to buzz as you said, “Got y-”

Your plane shook as something rammed into your plane. Only once Hangman’s voice shouting “Bird strike!” did you register what happened. 

The damage done to your jet’s engines appeared at once, the jerking of your jet ate down to your core.

 “Left engine out,” you panted, pressing the button to cut fuel to it as you tried gaining altitude. Your body felt heavy, falling back into the seat with panicked breaths. The right engine quickly caught too, leaving your dashboard blinking every warning light it could manage. Your stomach climbed into your throat as you lost control, the plane beginning to spin out.

Your hands shakily wrapped around the ejection handle, your lungs feeling squeezed tight. Pulling as hard as you could, your seat flew from the jet. Between the jerk of your body as the parachute released and the fiery crash of your plane into the ground a few moments later, you barely saw anything before hitting the desert all too fast.

You vaguely remembered rolling, or maybe the world was spinning, before you were consumed by darkness.

–

In flashes of memories, you caught the intense whirring of a helicopter, vague shapes of people rushing around you, and… was that Rooster? You couldn’t be sure, not when the pain took hold of your body, pulling you down under again.

–

The echoing emergency alarms of your jet slowly bled into the beeping of medical machines, the light of the sun into bright fluorescents above, and the lingering voice of your team… stayed.

As your eyes fought to open, the world came into focus in bits and pieces. Your throat felt so dry and painful — but it left your mind when the aching of the rest of your body rose to the surface. The groan tumbling from your mouth only fueled the sting.

But he did help, ready at your side and telling you to take it easy.

“Hey, Spider. Slow down. Hey,” Rooster pleaded, his voice desperate against your ears. But only once his hand gingerly wrapped around yours did you finally stop fighting.

You turned to look at him, mind still fuzzy. But it wasn’t hard to focus on him, your gaze unable to rip away from the dark honey of his eyes. 

“Hi.” His whisper entwined around each curve of you, settling onto your skin like a blanket you never wanted to take off.

You grabbed the cup of water he handed you, gulping it down until it soothed your throat.

“Hi,” you finally returned, offering a slight smile. Laying back in the bed, feeling the slight pull of the tubes attached to your body, you asked, “So, what’s my damage?”

Your head lulled to the side, watching Rooster slightly relax at last. The clench of his jaw eased, his shoulders fell.

“Nothing that could stop you. Fractured bone here, internal bleeding there…” he joked, but his grin didn’t reach his eyes. “But you’re alive. You’ll be just fine.”

That eased your nagging thoughts, though you guessed he said it for himself as much as he said it for you.

You squeezed his hand, loving the weight of it on yours. “Thank you.”

He nearly rolled his eyes, as if to say that he didn’t deserve it. “For what?” he asked, the taste of bitterness dripping from his words.

“For having my back, Rooster.”

You said it like it was the most obvious thing. It was to you. Even though he didn’t always show it in the way you’d expect, or even like for that manner, he was there.

He nodded. “You’d do the same for me.”

You would. In a heartbeat.

He whispered, “We all heard you on the radio as it happened. I made them let me on the helicopter to rescue you… Thought you were gone. Couldn’t handle it.” His hand rested over his mouth, his eyes fixed on the ground.

“I’m here, okay? You said it, I’ll be just fine,” you told him, wanting to pull him in if you weren’t stuck in this bed. But then his words registered. “Wait, you forced yourself onto the rescue helicopter? Are you insane?”

You smacked his arm, scoffing at him. You teased him, but it brought a smile to his face.

“That’s what you got from that? Okay, this is the last time I admit to caring about you,” he said behind a wave of laughter bubbling out.

Though all it did was further fuel you, bringing a disbelieving look to your face. “Oh my god, Rooster. I get it now. You were totally jealous of Will.”

“Oh god, why would I be jealous of that tool?” he groaned, pulling away from you. “I think your pain meds are too strong.”

“Calling him a tool like that is such a jealous thing to say!”

“Not if he’s actually a tool.”

You brought your hands to your lap, playing with the sheet as you said, “Wow, who would’ve thought that Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw actually cared abou-”

“I know you didn’t have to do those push ups with me, Spider,” he interrupted. He looked straight at you then, not even fighting his kind smile. “That punishment was only for last place, and you didn’t get last.”

You pursed your lips, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks under his gaze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said, trying to give him an innocent look. But you did, and you knew that he had gotten last trying to save you, even when the two of you bickered, so you paid the price with him.

His eyes softened. “I think you do. And I think that you also care more than you let on.”

Goosebumps erupted across your skin as Rooster grabbed your hand again, his thumb rubbing along the backs of your fingers. You stared down at where your bodies intertwined as you asked, “Did you really wait here for me the whole time?”

He nodded, his swept-back hair falling forward. But at your growing smile, he warned, “Spider, don’t ruin this.”

“You’re just a big ol’ softy, aren’t you? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like like me.” You laughed despite the ache that came with it. It meant you were alive, after all.

Rubbing a hand down his face, he said, “I think that’s enough. You’ve ruined it. Happy now?”

“Quite.”

After a comfortable silence spread through the room, just the sounds of your breathing and the machines beeping, Rooster said, “I do like you. Hope you know that.”

The flutter in your chest spread through your body, pushing the pain to the back to be replaced by a floating feeling. You didn’t think it would take so much for Rooster to admit his feelings, but you supposed it didn’t surprise you. 

He looked to you, worry etched into the curves of his face as he waited for your response. It barely looked like he breathed, sitting frozen still until you answered.

Shaking your head, you told him, “Rooster, if you don’t kiss me right now, I’m really going to rip off your mustache this time.”

A wide, toothy grin overtook his face. “There you go again about my mustache… You’re obsessed, aren’t you?” he said, his hand moving to rest on your cheek.

Rooster inched closer, careful to not put any weight on you or cause any pain. “Is this okay?” he whispered against your lips.

But impatience ran through you, making you twist your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him against you. Melting into him, you thought this felt better than any painkillers the doctors could prescribe you. It made you dizzy and craving more, until you were broken apart by Phoenix obnoxiously clearing her throat from the doorway.

As he kissed you one more time, the rest of the world drifting away, you couldn’t quite say you hated his mustache anymore.

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