#things start looking up for a minute and then fall right back down

[fleming-o]

Under the weather - Mapi Leon X Ingrid Engen X ADHDteen

sick fic beacsue im sick and bored

4k words

---

The moment you opened your eyes, you knew something wasn’t right. Your head felt heavy, like it was being pressed into the pillow, and your throat burned with each shallow breath. Your body was achy, muscles sore and tight, even though you hadn’t pushed yourself too hard at training the day before. The cold sweat clinging to your skin was enough of a sign—you were sick. But you couldn’t miss training, not today. You couldn’t afford to fall behind again.

Lying in bed, you stared at the ceiling, hoping that maybe after a few minutes, you’d feel better. But the pounding in your head didn’t ease. The sharp sting in your throat only worsened. You closed your eyes, breathing in slowly, telling yourself it was just a little cold and nothing more.

You dragged yourself out of bed, feeling every inch of the effort it took. Your legs felt heavy, and your arms weak, but you ignored it. Training was important, and you couldn’t let Mapi or Ingrid worry about you. They had enough to deal with, and you’d already struggled to keep up at practice for the past week.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you barely recognized your own reflection. Your face looked pale, and your eyes were dull, rimmed with dark circles. You splashed cold water on your face, hoping it would wake you up, but instead, it only made the pounding in your head worse. You leaned over the sink, gripping the edges as dizziness hit you hard.

“I’ll be fine. Just get through the day,” you muttered to yourself, trying to believe it.

You forced yourself to get dressed, tugging on your training kit and pulling your hair back. The routine felt heavier than usual, like each movement was in slow motion. The cold air outside hit you the moment you stepped out the door, making you shiver violently. Every noise—birds chirping, cars passing, people talking—seemed to hit your ears all at once, amplifying the pounding in your head. It was overwhelming.

As you made your way to the training ground, each step felt like dragging lead weights, but you tried to focus. Maybe once you started moving, it would get easier. Maybe the adrenaline from the drills would push the sickness away. But deep down, you knew better.

The walk seemed longer than usual, and by the time you reached the field, you were already out of breath. You spotted Mapi and Ingrid chatting near the bench, and the sight of them gave you a small wave of comfort. But even that quickly faded as you forced a smile and waved weakly. Ingrid raised an eyebrow, glancing at you with concern, but you shrugged it off, pretending you were fine.

Warm-ups began, and right away, you knew something was off. Your legs felt like they were stuck in cement, each stretch making your muscles ache even more. The usual burst of energy never came. Every move felt like a battle, and the noise around you—the sound of cleats on the turf, the chatter of your teammates, the whistle blowing—seemed too loud, too much. It all blurred together, making your head spin.

You pushed through the first few drills, biting your lip to keep from wincing. But your body was betraying you. Every time you sprinted, your vision blurred for a second. Every whistle blew felt like a shockwave through your skull. Your hands shook slightly as you tried to catch your breath, feeling the panic rising in your chest.

Ingrid was the first to notice. She had a way of sensing when things weren’t right with you, even if you tried to hide it. She jogged over, her eyes narrowing as she looked you over.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice low, but full of concern.

You nodded, swallowing hard against the dryness in your throat. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled, your voice scratchy. “Just... tired.”

But you could see the doubt in her eyes. Ingrid wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t press. Instead, she stayed close, watching as you struggled through the next set of drills.

It wasn’t long before Mapi caught on too. She noticed how you were lagging behind, your usually sharp footwork slow and unsteady. You could feel her eyes on you, and it only made you more anxious. The overwhelming noise of the field mixed with the pressure building inside you—it was too much. The world felt like it was closing in, the sounds and lights blurring together.

Finally, during a sprint, your legs gave out. You stumbled, barely catching yourself before hitting the ground. That was enough for Mapi. She marched over, her expression stern, but there was concern in her eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

You looked away, guilt gnawing at your insides. “I’m fine. Just a little... off.”

Ingrid wasn’t having it either. She stepped closer, placing a hand on your forehead before you could protest. Her eyes widened slightly as she felt the heat radiating from your skin.

“You’re burning up,” she said, her voice filled with worry. “You’re sick.”

Mapi’s frown deepened. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to miss training,” you muttered, feeling your throat tighten. The thought of falling behind, of being a burden—it weighed on you heavily.

Mapi sighed, exchanging a glance with Ingrid. “You can’t train like this. You’re going home.”

Before you could argue, Mapi and Ingrid were already taking charge. Ingrid was gathering your things while Mapi kept a steady hand on your back, guiding you off the field. You wanted to protest, to say you could push through, but the truth was, you were relieved. Every step off the field felt like a small weight lifting from your shoulders, even if the rest of your body felt like collapsing.

The car ride home was quiet. You leaned your head against the cool glass of the window, feeling the vibrations of the road through your skull. The steady hum of the engine seemed to echo in your ears, making the pounding in your head even worse. Every bump in the road sent a jolt through your aching body, and you could feel your fever rising.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Ingrid said from the front seat, her voice gentle. She glanced at you in the rearview mirror, her eyes soft. “We’ll get you home, and you can rest.”

Mapi reached back, her hand resting on your knee as she gave you a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry about training. Just focus on getting better.”

You nodded weakly, though the anxiety inside you refused to calm down. The overwhelming noise, the fever, the constant pressure in your head—it was all too much, and your ADHD only made it worse. Your senses felt overloaded, every little sound amplified, every touch feeling too sharp. It was like your brain couldn’t process anything properly, and it left you on edge.

When you finally arrived at the house, Mapi helped you inside, her arm steady around your waist. You collapsed onto the couch, too exhausted to even care how weak you must have looked. Ingrid brought over a blanket, wrapping it around you as she sat beside you, her hand gently running through your hair.

“You need to rest,” Ingrid said softly, her voice calm and soothing. “Let us take care of you.”

You wanted to protest, to tell them you didn’t want to be a burden, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could manage was a small nod as you leaned into the warmth of the blanket. Mapi disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear the sound of the kettle boiling, the clinking of mugs. Every noise felt too loud, too sharp, making your head spin even more.

The lights in the living room seemed too bright, the blanket too heavy on your body, and your thoughts raced. Your fingers tapped anxiously against the fabric, unable to stop the nervous energy coursing through you. You hated feeling like this—helpless, overwhelmed, and too sick to do anything about it.

“I can’t relax,” you whispered, barely loud enough for Ingrid to hear. “It’s too much.”

Ingrid shifted closer, her hand stilling your tapping fingers, squeezing them gently. “I know,” she said softly, her voice full of understanding. “But you don’t have to do it alone. We’re here.”

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on her voice, but it was hard. The sensory overload was getting worse, the lights and sounds around you pressing in, making it impossible to think straight. The fever only heightened your sensitivity, every touch, every noise feeling like too much for your brain to handle.

Mapi returned with a cup of tea, sitting beside you and offering it gently. You tried to take it, but your hands were trembling, and the cup shook in your grip. Mapi quickly took it from you, placing it on the table before any more tea spilled over the edge.

“Easy,” she said softly, her tone calm and patient. “Don’t push yourself.”

You leaned into her, your body aching with exhaustion. The warmth of her arm around you and Ingrid’s gentle touch on your hand helped a little, but the restlessness inside you was relentless. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breathing shallow as the panic began to rise. You felt like you were losing control, like the world around you was moving too fast and too loud, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

“I hate this,” you muttered, your voice breaking as tears pricked the corners of your eyes. “I just want it to stop.”

Mapi’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer as Ingrid rubbed soothing circles on your back. “It’s okay to feel that way,” Mapi whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “We’re here, and we’re not going anywhere. Just breathe.”

You tried to focus on her words, on the steady rise and fall of her chest as she held you. Ingrid’s calming presence beside you was a lifeline, her hand grounding you as the storm inside you continued to rage.

“We’ll get through this together,” Ingrid said softly, her voice like a warm blanket around your frayed nerves. “Just take it one breath at a time.”

Slowly, the tightness in your chest began to ease. The noise in your head wasn’t as overwhelming, the lights not as blinding. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better. You leaned into Mapi’s embrace, letting the exhaustion take over, your body finally relaxing as the world around you quieted down.

---

[zorrasucia]

❛ i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know. ❜ carmy berzatto pls

Hi Anon! ✨

Of course! This is some established relationship naughtiness at The Bear. I hope you enjoy it! 💜

It was one of the first days of fall, and probably one of the last warm days of the year. And so, you were enjoying the weather: wearing your favorite dress and cleaning your apartment with the window open to let the soft breeze in. Your phone rang, the name on the screen read Sydney 🐻.

"Hi, Syd," you greeted her with a smile.

"Hey, uh," she hesitated, the sound of a hectic kitchen in the background. "Remember you told me I could call you when Carmy was being a pain in the ass? I know it was a joke and, you know, I'm not his babysitter and you're not either. Like, I know that. But, uh-" she had a nervous tone in her voice.

"Syd, it's okay," you reassured her. "It's Saturday, I bet things are insane in the kitchen."

"You have no idea," she let out a nervous chuckle. "I seriously wouldn't even be calling if I-"

Syd was right, that you weren't Carmy's babysitter but you could probably talk some sense into him. Besides, you didn't have work today - and they'd probably give you leftovers for your troubles.

"Hey. I'm on my way," you said. "Don't worry."

"Okay, okay," Syd sighed. "I'll, uh, I'll try to chill in the meantime."

You grabbed your keys and bag... You suddenly had a sinful idea and grinned.

~

You walked through the back door, avoiding servers and chefs, mumbling 'behind' every so often like you'd seen the rest of them do. You could make out Carmy's hoarse voice between all the noise.

"This steak is fucking dead! Refire. Chefs, wake the fuck up!"

"Hey, Carm," you called him.

He turned to look at you, eyes wide and fiery. "What are you doing here?" he rasped.

"Do you have a sec?" you said with a polite smile.

"Not really. I-" he looked disoriented and frantic.

Syd stepped in, looking determined. "I'll handle it. Go."

Carmy led you inside his office, exasperation radiating from him.

"Why are you-?" he started.

"Uh, Syd called," you replied, giving him a knowing look as he closed the door behind you.

"Fuck."

"Yeah. She said you were being a pain in the ass," you leaned on his desk.

"I- uh-" he hesitated, then covered his face, red from the heat of the kitchen but also from anger and shame. "She- she was being nice. I'm being an asshole."

You sat on his desk and sighed. "Thought so."

"Huh?" he tilted his head. You had caught him by surprise.

You gestured for him to come closer, so you could talk softer and look him in the eye.

"Listen, I know it gets super loud in your head, and you get overwhelmed and you lash out," you had seen it happen once or twice. "You need to step down when that happens."

"Syd-" he avoided your gaze. "Yeah, Syd has suggested it."

"So?" you cupped his face and tilted it towards you. "Can you do that? Can you let go for ten minutes and calm the fuck down?"

He blinked hard, stressed.

"I don't know," he confessed after a moment of consideration.

"I think you can, Carm," you encouraged him. Then, you put the second, more inappropriate part of your plan in motion. You grabbed his chef whites, and brought him closer, opening your legs to accommodate him. Then you whispered: "I'm not wearing any underwear. Thought you'd like to know."

Carmy stared at you, mouth agape.

"We're in the middle of service-"

"Listen," you gestured at the door. There were no loud bangs or screams, just the normal bustle of a kitchen; if anything it was quieter than when you first entered. "Syd is handling it. The rest of the kitchen is functioning. The sky isn't falling," you grabbed his face with both hands. "Now, will you just fuck me?"

"Shit."

He leaned down to kiss you hard, all tongue and teeth, biting a little. You ran your fingers through his hair, bringing him closer, crossing your ankles behind his waist.

"I need this to be fucking fast," he rasped against your lips.

"I know," you smiled while untying his apron and unbuckling his belt.

The mere indecency of showing up to Carmy's place of work planning to fuck him had made you wet enough to take him that very moment.

"Condoms?" he asked.

You took one out of your bag and handed it to him, palming his cock impatiently through his trousers.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

He lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to pull out his cock. He grabbed the back of your knees to pull you closer to the edge of his desk, something feral about him. You bunched up your dress all the way up to your hips, confirming that you were indeed bare under it. Carmy's eyes widened.

"Shit..." his fingers touched your drenched pussy. "You planned this, the whole thing."

You nodded proudly, biting on your lip when he entered you.

"Can't believe you showed up, in the middle of service-" he murmured. "Jesus... To fuck me."

"Desperate times," you touched your forehead to his, his gaze intense. He bottomed out and you covered his mouth to muffle a whine. "See? I think you need it."

That was the tiny push he craved.

He fucked you mercilessly, forceful thrusts while he grabbed your thighs hard, keeping you on the edge of the desk, right where he wanted you. His rhythm was frantic, half out of urgency and half out of anger. You kept your hand on his mouth, silencing the tirade of curses and primal groans he was blurting. Your eyes were on him, breathy pleas leaving your lips.

"Give it to me. It's okay. Please. I need you. Please," you weren't sure if he could actually hear it all but you couldn't stop, not when you were so close to your release. Your pussy tightened around his cock, pulsing.

His grip on you faltered, eyebrows raising as he looked at you for confirmation.

You nodded, eyes half lidded in ecstasy. "Let go, baby. Let go."

He gave you a few desperate thrusts, your palm vibrating with the sound of his moans as he came.

Suddenly, the room felt eerily quiet, the only sounds that mattered were Carmy's panting and your heart's beating. You lowered your hand from his mouth to his chest.

"Shit," he closed his eyes, collecting himself.

"Mhmm," you swayed in your seat, moving his softening cock as you did so. "Better?"

He nodded, a little sheepish. "Thank you."

"Hey. Can't do this every time," you said honestly. The likelihood of you coming to fuck some sense into him on weekdays was low to none. "But why don't you think about this next time you're about to lose it?" you suggested.

"You want me to get hard while running the expo?" he chuckled. His heartbeat was slowing down.

"I mean, if that's what it takes to get you to step down and chill, sure," you teased.

While the idea of Carmy fucking his hand while thinking of you was appealing, it seemed a little impractical to do at the restaurant.

"Might just take a smoke break," he offered. "Save the fucking for when I get home."

"Deal," you kissed him and tapped his cheek gently. "Now, come on, get out there."

He got dressed and ready at a dizzying speed, taking time to rearrange your dress and kiss you one last time before returning to the kitchen. He left the door ajar, and you peeked just in time to see him give an apologetic nod to Syd and ask her to continue running the expo. It was a start. You were satisfied.

[spencerrscardigans]

𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: “one day, i will stop falling in love with you / some day, someone will like me like i like you / until then, i’ll drink my coffee, eat my pie”

includes: best friends to lovers, no use of y/n, you work at family video with steve and robin, idiots to lovers, pining, angst, reader is emotional, emetophobia warning (2 mentions but no actual), fluff, robin buckley is a meddler, song inspired fic but i added a happy ending

a/n: this is the first ever oneshot that I have actually finished and am posting! yay me! I also totally didn't write this instead of doing my bio homework. this is barely edited and probably horrible but give me some grace because this is my first time writing one of these

word count: 5000

⊹₊⟡⋆

You were sure that the coffee and cherrie pie from the bakery down the street was the sole reason for getting you through your shifts at family video.

Sure, it helped that you shared most of your shifts with your two best friends, Steve and Robin, but the fact that you were hopelessly in love with one of said best friends seemed to get in the way of enjoying your shifts with them.

Robin helped make it more tolerable, however her looks of pity sent your way whenever a pretty girl came in to flirt with Steve just made it blatantly obvious how pathetic your feelings for him were.

Being one of Steve’s best friends also meant that you had to listen to every nauseating detail of his conquests with these women, making your inadequacy feel even stronger.

The bell on the door chimed, signalling that a customer had entered the store, and looking over you saw a pretty blonde around your age walk in.

You don’t bother to get up, knowing that Steve will be there to greet her before you can even stand up.

As predicted, Steve jumps up, stumbling over his feet to greet the girl. You sigh, and reach into your paper bag to grab your boxed slice of cherry pie which frankly has turned into a comfort food for situations like this.

Seemingly moving on their own accord, your eyes look up to see Steve leaning on the counter with a sly smile on his face, and you know that your feelings for him were futile.

“You know that Steve’s just an idiot, right? He has feelings for you, he’s just too blind to see what’s right in front of him.” Robin says once Steve is out of earshot.

“Or,” you start, dragging the word out, “there’s nothing for him to see. He doesn’t care like i do, he doesn’t like me like i like him. It’s okay, i’ve made my peace with it.”

Robin glances over her shoulder once more, and when she’s sure that Steve is distracted she grabs your shoulders, “he likes you!” she exclaims.

“He’s just too stupid to realize. Just tell him how you feel! I know society thinks that’s men’s job but frankly I think that’s sexist, and Steve’s too stupid to do it himself. All this pining would be over if you’d just tell him how you feel!” she says while shaking your shoulders to emphasize her point

“Rob, it’s never going to happen.” you shake your head at her.

Before Robin can argue back, the topic of your conversation starts walking towards you both, grinning while waving his hand in the air, and you make out messy numbers scribbled with ink on his skin.

The second Steve opens his mouth, you figure it would be in your best interest to tune it out, and you turn back to your pie as if it’s suddenly the most enticing thing in the room.

You let yourself enjoy your pie, and for a minute, let yourself pretend that you and Steve are more than friends, and that the sick feeling coursing through you is simply because of the coffee and pie and not heartbreak.

The bell chimes, indicating a customer has entered the store, and this time it’s your turn to jump up.

“I’ve got this one” you say, glad you have an excuse to get away from the conversation.

You hurriedly walk up to the counter, and you see a boy, about your age, scanning his eyes around the store.

“You need help finding anything?” You ask, mustering up a friendly smile.

“I’m lookin’ for something scary. Do you have Poltergeist? Or anything similar.” He asks.

“Over there,” you say pointing. “Do you want me to get it for you?” you ask.

“I think i’ve got it from here,” he says with a smile, glancing down at your name tag and reading it aloud.

You watch as he retreats, before finally stopping to scan through the movies. After a few seconds he reaches up, plucks the movie off the shelf and is making his way back up to the counter.

“Have you found everything you’re looking for?” You ask in your trained customer service voice.

He nods, before asking “So, have you seen this one? Is it any good?”

You respond, and soon enough find yourself too distracted by the conversation with the boy to notice the very familiar interaction that you had just previously had going on between your coworkers.

“You’re jealous!” Robin gasps.

“Shhhh!” Steve says, covering her mouth with his hand. “Shut up!”

“Ew,” Robin says, shoving his hand off her “You didn’t deny it!” She sing songs.

“I’m not jealous, i just think it’s inappropriate for customers to be flirting with the employees” He says defensively, eyeing the way the boys eyes light up with interest at whatever you’re saying, leaning over the counter slightly.

His comment receives a deadpanned look from Robin, “Dude, look at your hand. You literally were just bragging about how you scored that ‘totally hot girl’s’ number.”

Steve opens his mouth, ready to defend himself, but after failing to come up with something to say, he closes his mouth in defeat.

He lets out an exasperated sigh, “Okay, fuck, maybe I am.”

“Hah! I knew it.” Robin says smugly. “So,” she says, dragging out the ‘o’ “When are you gonna do something about it?”

“I can’t-“ he starts “I don’t know!” he exclaims.

“Let me guess,” she starts. “You’re going to call that girl tonight like an idiot and pretend like you’re not totally in love with someone else?”

“It’s been working so far.” he shrugs, and robin squints her eyes at him.

“Is it though? Is it?” she accuses, and Steve suddenly feels small under her stare.

“Just tell her, you dingus!” Too distracted, neither Steve or Robin notice that you’re back until your voice breaks them out of their argument.

“Tell who what?” you ask, and Steve and Robin both look at each other nervously, leaving you confused.

“She, uh, was giving me pointers for when I ask that hot blonde out.” Steve says, and you shudder.

“You’re such a boy.” You motion with your hand for Steve to move off the stool you were previously sitting on, and when he complies, you sit back down and take a sip of your coffee.

You make a face at the change of temperature of your coffee, and Steve laughs. “Gone cold?” he muses.

You shut him up with a glare, and the three of you go back into a comfortable silence as you stare at the clock, waiting for your shift to end.

After what feels like an eternity, the three of you start closing the store once your shift ends, and you plop down into the drivers seat of your car with a groan.

You start driving, and you hope that the soft music and pretty sunset is enough to bring you out of your spiral of thoughts, but when a familiar song comes on, a song that Steve showed you, you start to think that you’re cursed.

The song brings you back to the moment where you were sitting in the passenger seat of Steve’s beemer, your legs up on the dashboard despite Steve’s scolding that it’s ‘dangerous’, to which you would reply ‘whatever, mom”.

The sun was setting in the sky, similar to how it is now, you and Steve taking turns sharing music after arguing over what to listen to, Steve claiming that he had the better music taste, to which you would argue back that yours is better. After going back and forth, you ended up with a compromise of taking turns picking the music.

You remember that night vividly, because that was the night you caught the first glimmer of hope that maybe he liked you like you liked him. It was also the night where that hope was crushed just as quickly as it came.

You had caught him staring, but too distressed at what that could possibly mean you pretended you didn’t notice. You spent the rest of the night going over and over in your head of what that look possibly could have meant, driving yourself crazy to the point where Steve noticed that there was something wrong.

Steve stopped, mid sentence when he noticed that far away, troubled look in your eyes once again.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked, seemingly bringing you out of your daze.

“Hm?”

“I said, what’s going on in that head of yours? I don’t think you’ve registered a single word of that story I was just telling you.” he says, with a slight laugh.

“Feels like i’m talking to a wall.” he teases, however you catch the glint of worry.

For a minute, you thought about telling him. You thought about spilling every thought that had been plaguing your mind since you realized that you were in love with him a few weeks back. You wanted to tell him you loved him. That you were in love with him.

You open your mouth to say something, but the words seem to catch in your throat, and tears start streaming down your face instead.

Not to sound dramatic, but Steve thought he could feel his heart breaking in his chest watching you, his best friend, breaking down beside him in his car. He wished he could wave a magic wand and take away all your hurt. Hell, he would even take all the hurt on himself if it meant he got to see you smile.

“What’s going on?” he asked you, “You know you’re my best friend, you can tell me anything.”

Steve hoped his words would reassure you, but instead you just sobbed harder.

You shook your head, and Steve figured that was you saying you didn’t want to talk about it, and he was right, partially, he just didn’t realize that it wasn’t just you not wanting to talk about it. He didn’t realize that the real reason you were shaking your head was because you didn’t want to be his best friend. You loved him, but not how best friends typically loved each other. You were in love with him.

You realized then, that that was all you would be. His best friend. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship, and you knew that if you told him how you felt, you definitely would, so you decided that it would be in everyone’s best interest to never let him find out.

Little did you know, those same fears swirled around in your best friend’s head as well.

“M’sorry, I promise I don’t mean to cry.” you tell him. “I’m just, i’m overwhelmed and confused.”

Steve caught the look that you were giving him, your pleading eyes begging him to not ask you what you were overwhelmed and confused by. As badly as he wanted to ask, he remembered all the times that you were there for him no questions asked, and he knew that as your best friend, that he owed you the same respect.

He settled with holding you in his arms while you cried into his chest. He whispered soft, reassuring words, not knowing that he was the reason you needed them.

Later that week, you’re sat by the counter, once again eating your pie, wondering whether your shift could go by any slower.

This time, it was just you and Steve sharing your shift, and at first it made you nervous knowing that Robin wouldn’t be there and you’d be left alone with Steve and your feelings for him, but it had been surprisingly going pretty well.

You noticed that Steve seemed tense as well, but after him brushing your questioning eye off, you decided not to bother him about it.

“What did that pie do to you?” Steve teases, noting the way you are stabbing your fork into the pie as if you have some vendetta against it.

“I’m bored.” you groan, dragging the word out. “I miss Robin.”

Steve brings his hand up to his chest, acting as though he was wounded. “Am I not enough for you?"

When you bark out a laugh, the corner of his lips twitch up into a smile as he gazes at you with a fond look that makes you feel like you’re about to vomit. Not out of disgust, but from the overwhelming feelings that he makes you feel. Vomiting is about the most accurate way to describe how it makes you feel, and you try not to imagine the look you’d receive from Robin if she heard that.

The door chimes, and with Steve being closer, he gets up to greet the customer. Just as he’s getting ready to ask how he can help, he pauses when he realizes that it’s the same guy who was in the store flirting with you the other day.

He clenches his jaw, remembering yours and Robins scolding that he needed to be better with his customer service, and grits out “Welcome to Family Video, how can I help?”

Just to Steve’s surprise, more like disappointment, the customer tells him that he was actually hoping to speak to you.

Hearing your name, you look up and smile when you see Matt, the customer from the other day. You get up and walk towards them, turning to Steve to tell him that you’ve got it from here. He begrudgingly leaves, but still stays in earshot.

“I’m just here to return this.” Matt says, setting the movie on the desk. You pick it up, and begin scanning it and clicking buttons on the computer.

“How’d you like it? You owe me that review you promised.”

“Well, i’ve actually spent the past couple days trying to think of the best way to tell you my thoughts, and I thought maybe we could discuss it over coffee?” he says, eyes hopeful.

You’re taken aback for a minute, struggling to remember the last time someone asked you out, and then wondering whether he meant as a date, or just as friends, but before you can think of something to say, Matt speaks again.

“I hope i’m not coming on to foreword or reading this wrong, I just think that you’re gorgeous and would love to take you on a date.” he sends you a shy smile.

“I, yeah, i’d like that.” you manage to sputter out, sharing Matt’s same shy smile. “I’m off tomorrow, but I work the rest of the week.” you tell him.

“How about noon? We could go to the cafe down the street if you’d like. Or anywhere else.”

“The cafe works. I’ll see you then.” You tell him, feeling giddy as a smile graces your face as you finish running through his return. Matt matches your smile, and waves before making his way out of the store.

You watch as he walks out the door and out of eyesight, and do a little happy dance, ignoring the fact that Steve is going to definitely make fun of you.

For a minute, the hopeless feeling that had settled over you because of Steve’s unshared feelings is forgotten, and you think that maybe won’t be as hard to get over him as you thought. Maybe you will find someone who likes you how you like Steve, and you’ll be able to stop falling for him.

“I thought you didn’t go on dates.” Steve says once you turn around, and the smile quickly falling off your face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Seeing the hurt look on your face, Steve quickly clarifies.

“You just always say that you’re more content staying single. That dating just causes unnecessary stress that you don’t have to have when you’re single.”

“I don’t know, I just changed my mind I guess.” you say, and Steve raises an eyebrow at you.

“What made you change your mind?” he questions.

“Why does it have to matter?” you say. “It just felt nice to have someone be interested in me.”

Steve accepts your answer, and you both continue to work in silence. You wonder why Steve doesn’t seem as happy for you as you expected, and it sends a pang through your chest.

The next day comes around fast, and after spending about an hour debating what to wear, noon finally comes around and you nervously step foot inside the cafe, despite the amount of times you’ve been here.

You glance around, and you spot Matt already sitting down at a table. You shyly walk over to him, suddenly uncomfortably aware of everything you do.

After the initial nervousness settles down and you both have ordered, conversation starts flowing easily, and you find that you and Matt have a lot more in common than you originally expected.

You feel comfortable around him, and after learning more and more about each other, you find yourselves talking to each other like you’ve known each other for years.

You like Matt, you really do, but despite how much you like him and how well you guys are getting on, a nagging feeling won’t leave you alone.

You know it’s wrong, but as you tell Matt about yourself, you can’t help but think about Steve, and how he already knows all this about you. Honestly, you think Steve knows more about you than you do.

Internally, you start connecting everything to Steve, and this realization suddenly starts making you feel both guilty and uncomfortable.

As the date starts to wrap itself up, you realize you need to be honest with him. Getting over Steve is apparent to be way more difficult than you anticipated, and you know it’s unfair to string Matt along when your heart is elsewhere.

You decide to just be upfront with him, telling him exactly as such, and Matt’s reaction is the exact opposite to what you expected.

He doesn’t seem upset, he just simply looks at you with understanding, and if anything, it makes you feel even more guilty.

“It’s okay, i’m just glad you were able to realize this and be upfront with me now. The heart wants what it wants, and I can’t blame you for that.” he tells you.

“I just feel so bad, I really thought i’d be able to do this, and I do really like you, but I just can’t.” you sigh, feeling disappointed in yourself.

“It’s that coworker of yours, right?” he asks, leaving you shocked.

“How did-“ you start to say, looking at him with bewilderment.

“I noticed how he looked at you when I came by the store, both times, I thought there might be something there but was just hoping I was wrong.” he tells you, and it just leaves you more confused.

He doesn’t look at you in any way, does he? Seemingly noticing your distress at this new information, Matt continues on.

“He looked like he was ready to have me banned from the store,” he says with a laugh. “it’s clear as day that he has feelings for you, and you feel the same way, so just tell him.” you continue looking at him with bewilderment, but this time for a different reason.

“This was not the direction I was expecting this to go in.” You say with a breathy laugh.

“I know, believe me,” he says with a laugh, “I know this is definitely not how either of us expected this to end up, but I still would like to at least be your friend. How does that sound to you?”

“I would like to be your friend as well, I meant what I said, I do really like you, I just feel really bad about this whole situation.” you tell him nervously.

“Don’t, I meant what I said as well, the heart wants what it wants. So, friends?” he says, offering you his hand for a handshake, and you laugh. You take his hand, and shake it.

“Friends sounds good.” you say with a smile.

“Now that we’re friends, i’m telling you this as a friend, tell him how you feel.” he says sternly.

“God, you sound like Robin. Don’t make me regret agreeing to be friends.” you say lightheartedly.

You both say your goodbyes, telling him that now that he has friend privileges you can snag him any good movies coming in that he requests, and he promises to stop by the store sometime soon.

Driving home, you start to feel a sense of clarity come over you. You think that maybe telling Steve isn’t a bad idea, Matt only saw Steve twice and could say with confidence that Steve had feelings for you, maybe he was right?

But what if he was wrong? What if Matt was wrong and you make a fool out of yourself and ruin your friendship?

You realize that your friendship would be ruined either way, because thinking about it, you don’t know if you have it in you anymore to keep having your heart broken. You either tell him, and risk him not feeling the same way and ruining your friendship, or not telling him and end up definitely ruining your friendship because you can’t handle just being his friend.

If you’re going to lose him either way, you figure you might as well just tell him. Now you really feel like you’re going to throw up.

The next day, you work the closing shift with once again just Steve, and the entire time leading up to it all you feel is dread. You even consider calling in sick and asking Robin to cover for you, but you push through it and find yourself walking through the staff doors, getting ready to start your shift.

You and Steve start working as you usually would, closing shift on Thursday's always being quiet, him making his regular comments and you once again sitting on your stool drinking your coffee and eating your pie.

Despite Steve being your best friend and you both having worked together without Robin many times, you both feel the uncomfortable shift in the air.

“How’d your, uh, date go?” Steve asks, internally cursing himself out.

“It went good.” you say, sounding unsure. Steve raises an eyebrow at you in question, and you clarify.

“It went good,” you say, sounding more sure of yourself. “We had a surprising amount of things in common, and the conversation came really easily. Honestly for a moment it felt like we had known each other for years.” you tell him with a smile on your face as you think back at yesterday.

“Oh, that’s- that’s good. You’ll probably be going out with him again?” Steve asks, and it may be you going crazy, or did he sound disappointed? Is it bad that that makes you feel happy?

“Yeah, we will, I think. Not on another date, though.” you tell him, paying close attention to how Steve reacts. When he keeps a calm composure, just looking confused, you think that maybe you were just crazy.

“We decided that we’d be better as friends.” you clarify.

“Oh, how come? You seem to really like him.” he asks, and you think that this might be your opportunity to tell him how you feel. You pause for a minute, trying to think of the best way to word what you are going to say next.

“I realized that my hearts," you pause, "elsewhere? I do really like him but I didn’t think it would be fair to string him along if I wasn’t fully in it.” you tell him carefully.

“Elsewhere? Like you have feelings for someone?” you nod.

“Why’d you agree to go out with him if you have feelings for someone else?”

“I don’t know, he seemed like a really good guy and I thought maybe i’d be able to get over my feelings but I was wrong.” you tell him, shamefully.

“It was nice having someone be interested in me." you begin to explain, "I figured since the person that I want to be won’t ever be interested in me, maybe it was time to move on. And it felt nice. Being in love with someone who only sees you as a friend sucks and for a minute I was able to forget about it. I don’t want to keep letting him break my heart again.” you explain.

Steve doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you as if you’re some difficult math question, and you feel yourself shrinking under his gaze.

“Who are you in love with?” he finally asks.

You open your mouth to respond, and once again, just like the time you were sat beside him in his car, you're unable to get any words out, and a tear slowly falls down your cheek instead.

You went over this conversation many times in your head, preparing how you were going to tell him, but now that it was happening, it all went right out the window.

Steve steps closer to you, and wipes the tear from your cheek, and the action makes you want to cry harder but you force yourself to keep your composure. You tell yourself all you have to do is get this over with, and then you can cry as much as you want.

“How do you know that he isn’t in love with you too? What makes you so certain?” Steve asks, figuring his first question was too difficult for you to answer.

“He flirts with other girls all the time. And I get friend zoned practically on a daily basis.” You manage to mumble.

“How do you know he isn’t doing what you were trying to do by going on that date? What if he thinks that you don’t like him back, and that’s why he does that?” Steve asks, and you wonder whether there’s more to what he’s asking. You chalk it up to him just wanting to make you feel better, and sigh.

“I don’t know whether this is just Robin getting to my head, but is the guy me?” Steve finally asks.

Your silence is enough of an answer, but then you finally nod your head in confirmation. “It’s okay though, one day I will stop falling in love with you and we can pretend this never happened, some day I’ll find someone who likes me like I like you and we can go back to normal.”

You honestly think at this point you’re more trying to reassure yourself than you are Steve. You reason that he’s the one who made you fall in love with him, so you’re allowed to try to reassure yourself.

“What if I don’t want you to?” he says, and your eyes go wide, thinking that he has to be messing with you.

“What if I don’t want you to stop falling in love with me? What if I don’t want to pretend like this never happened? What if I don’t want you to find someone else? Because you won’t need to, because I do like you like you like me.” he continues, and you shake your head, not believing him.

“Look at me.” he commands softly. Instead of doing what he asks, you stubbornly close your eyes and face your head down, scared to look at him. Scared that if you look at him you’ll see that he was joking and you’ll be stuck feeling humiliated.

Steve gently brings his hand under your chin and lifts it up so your head is facing him, but you refuse to open your eyes. When you hear him let out a little laugh, you feel glad that you didn’t look, fearing the worst.

“Hey, look at me, please.” he says, and his begging tone is what makes you finally peak your eyes open.

Steve’s close, closer than you realized, and his eyes are looking right into yours, and you don’t see any mocking or teasing looks in his eyes like you expected.

His eyes leave yours, slowly traveling down to your lips. “I can prove it to you if you don’t believe me.”

He looks back up at you, silently asking for permission, and all you’re able to say is a breathless “okay.”

He grins, and slowly leans in, allowing you time to change your mind, and when you don’t, he finally presses his lips against yours.

Your eyes flutter closed, and his hand that was under your chin comes up to softly cup your jaw, and suddenly all you feel is him.

At this point, the tears that you had trying so hard to hold in finally stream down your face, however this time for an entirely different reason. All the love that you had been suppressing down was finally released, the emotion pouring out of you as you kissed.

Steve pulls away, noticing your tears, and his eyes widen in a panic. When you respond with a laugh, he calms down and wipes your tears.

“I knew it,” he starts. “you do taste like coffee and pie.”

You’re both grinning, and he leans down and kisses you again. If you thought the first kiss was a lot, this one nearly knocks you off your feet with the force of passion that he kisses you with.

His hands move down to your waist, pulling you even closer and you let out a squeak of surprise. Your hands move on their own accord to grip at his collar, and the groan he lets out is nearly enough to make you faint.

This time you’re the one to pull away, feeling like you’re about to run out of air, and you both are left flushed and breathing heavily.

The bell on the door chimes, bringing you both out of your daze. Steve sighs and sets off to greet the customer, with a promise that this will be continued later, both of you with a giddy feeling you didn’t have at the start of your shift.

[chimivx]

under the influence -> jeong yunho

wc; 2482 warnings; smut, 18+, explicit sexual content, they are drunk continues straight from part four of nice for what. for more context, start the crazy series...

september 13th ~ friday ~ sometime after midnight

It happened fast, Yunho’s shirt hitting the floor.

Between lips on skin and hands drawing everywhere, you were both barely undressed and he was inside of you.

And it was right.

It was how it should be.

On top of him, hands in his hair, straddling his jeans while he pressed kisses to your skin, tugging the straps of your dress down your shoulders so hard that one almost snapped… It felt right, and his strong hands pressing into your hips told you that you would be here all night.

“So big,” you gasped, fingernails digging into his shoulders. Pressing his lips to your wrist, he opened his mouth and drew the kisses up your arm. Sliding your other arm around his bare shoulders, his skin smooth and hot to the touch, you drug your fingers through his hair and pulled, eliciting a groan from his lips now latched to your neck. His hands attempted to pick you up, attempted to move you, needed to move you. “Wait.” Your whine, the sound laced with a discomfort, made him look up at you, worried.

Softening his grip he slid his hands back over your thighs, moving beneath the cotton fabric hanging off your body. Giving your ass the gentlest squeeze, he blinked with the smallest nod. “Don’t move.” Thirty seconds and his voice was wrecked, ragged and coarse. “Kiss me,” he whispered.

Letting a shaky breath fall from you, you obliged, pressing your chest to his, your lips meeting in the middle. You moved quick, you wanted your lips to move faster, wanted his lips to move faster, but they wouldn’t. He forced you to take your time, every agonizing push of his lips into yours slower than the last. Even the way his tongue teased you, retreating when you’d lob yours toward it. Sharing the air, wet hot breath, swapping spit, back and forth, Yunho kept time though he knew you longed to swallow him whole.

The longer you kissed, the more you relaxed around him. Whether you spent five, ten minutes with your tongues tangled, his sliding atop yours tasting like the fruity bubbles you preferred over the liquor he poured, he didn’t care. He could sit here all night, you on his lap, your hands in his hair, your lips on his while he felt the effect he had over you in real time.

Yunho wasn’t something you could adjust to without proper care, you said the words yourself, so big. Even the first time, Yunho prepped you as much as he could, and all the times after that, he said the words to you, tiny little thing.

He slipped a hand between your legs, where your bodies met one another, and scissored his fingers around his length, where you gripped him so beautifully. Dragging them up along your folds, a deliciously sweet wetness coating the digits, he teased that bundle of nerves that made your body shake, a muffled moan spilling from your mouth into his.

“Got me all wet, baby,” he whispered, taking his lips down along your jaw to listen to you sing for him. Fingers twisting over your clit once more, your fingers on his shoulder dug further into his skin and the one in his hair yanked his head backward, his chin tipping up, his lips parting with a quiet gasp. Eyes screwed shut, you rocked your hips ever so slightly, Yunho holding his breath as he watched you writhe on top of him.

Every sound delicate, he drank them up, working his fingers until your brows met in the middle and each heave of your chest grew shorter. A groan escaped him when you circled your hips, comfortable enough to use him as you pleased. He couldn’t help himself, he had full control, but absolutely adored when you lost yourself in the ecstasy, in him.

Short, small bounces on his dick had him clenching his jaw, keeping it shut. His own moans and groans were trapped in his chest. If you weren’t thoughtless at the moment you’d be begging to hear them, and he’d listen. Yunho would give you anything you wanted, anything you asked for. 

Which is why when you whimpered, “Wanna cum,” he had no intention of stopping, nor was he about to switch it up. Circling over your clit the only thing he changed was the pressure, pushing the pads of his fingers against you, keeping up with how you bounced longer, harder, deeper. When you met his hips you took all of him, the tip of his dick kissing that sweet spot within you, and you stopped.

He could’ve unloaded right then, filled you with his cum as his name slipped from your lips in an exasperated whisper. Your hips rutting against his like a bitch in heat, the pleasure grew tenfold, even more so when Yunho drug his tongue up your neck, taking your earlobe between his teeth.

“You wanna cum, baby,” his whisper raspy, “Then, cum.” Your walls squeezed him whenever he spoke. Swallowing his groan, he said, “You’re fuckin’ me so good, you deserve it.”

Pouting, your lips parted and he caught them in a kiss, your words muffled and breathless. “Too soon.”

“S’okay,” he whispered, kissing you twice more, “You feel good, let it feel good.” A stifled moan fell from him. Tearing his lips away he looked between you, grabbing your dress by the fistful, tugging it up your body. “Fuck, Rory,” he muttered. 

Slinging both arms around his neck, burying your face in his hair, electric sparks ignited in your veins, a pressure building in your center, a band winding tighter and tighter with each buck of your hips. Grabbing his face, his cheeks putty in your hands, you tipped his chin up. 

Eyes hooded, awaiting instruction, Yunho couldn’t help himself. Thrusting his hips up into you once, it broke you. It tore you apart, shattered the last bit of composure you clung to. Clenching around him, squeezing him so tight he had to pray his own orgasm away, you sunk deeper on him, your knees tightening around his waist. Your head fell backward and the nastiest, most beautiful sound he’s ever heard came out of your mouth.

Yours were his favorite, the sounds you make, so genuine and raw, like you couldn’t think about anything other than the pleasure he was bringing you, that you were giving yourself. Watching you come undone, his lips parted, a smile pulling at them, he’s never seen you look more beautiful.

…And, three… two… one…

Wrapping a hand tight around the base of his neck you heave your body weight forward onto him, pushing him backward on the bed. Engulfing his lips with a feverish kiss, tongue pressed to his cheek, you pushed with your hand, the pressure forcing a groan out of the boy below you. Throwing your hips in a circle, meeting every thrust of his hips with a bounce of your own, a devilish smirk grew between the kisses. Yunho could feel it.

“There she is,” he whispered.

Pushing off of him, lips parting with a wet smack as you sat up, you buried your bottom lip between your teeth, keeping your eyes on him as you moved. Having done this before, many times, you were successful in keeping him a panting mess beneath you as you slipped your dress over your head, throwing it behind you somewhere next to his shirt. Eyes drawing down your body, taking in every curve, Yunho tensed beneath you, his body stiffening in more ways than one. 

Sitting up on his elbows, lulling his head back, his brows beckoning you for something, he groaned, “Aurora,” and gasped thereafter, your hands startling him as they wrapped around his neck. Leaning into him, pushing your bare chest to his, an act that had his toes curling, he let his weight take him back to his mattress. 

Lips so close to his, you fluttered your lashes. “You gonna get whiney on me, Yo?” Laughing within a breath, you poked out your tongue and danced it between the seam of his lips, before his jaw fell open with another gasp as you sheathed him within you and twisted your hips dangerously slow.

He did in fact whine, his lips parting to allow you all the access to nip at the flesh to your heart's content, tugging at the soft pink fullness as he whined again and his hips stuttered. His hands clamped around your waist, stopping you entirely. Tugging his head away, leaving you with no choice but to take your teeth to his neck, he flipped you over onto your back, pinning you in place.

“Fuck,” you whispered, throwing your hands around his back taken by surprise, eyes so wide he laughed at you. Lowering himself over you, caging you to the mattress, he nestled his nose against yours and settled his lips in a smirk.

“I know how this goes,” he said, his deep voice sending chills over your bare skin. With an agonizingly slow push of his hips into you, he speaks just above a whisper. “Rory in control, gets what she wants.” He pulled out, admiring how your jaw fell open as he took his sweet, sweet time pushing back in. “I know you like that, the power trip, using me to get yourself off, I like it too, you know how to sit on a dick.” Touching his lips to yours delicately, barely pressing a kiss there, a laugh left him in a huff of air. “But I know what you like even better, what you love.”

He lifted himself off of you and stood up, yanking you with him by your thighs, keeping himself inside of you. Trying to sit up, moving to your elbows, you whispered a shaky, “What?” but yelped as he reached forward and knocked you backward. He grabbed your hips tight, harsh fingers pressing into your curves where there’d surely be marks there tomorrow. Entirely too tall, he lifted you up, your lower half completely off the bed.

“Getting fucked,” he spat, and showed no mercy.

Grasping at his sheets, his blankets, a pillow, anything for stability, you couldn’t find any. Within seconds he knocked every sense, every thought from you, leaving with you nothing but him. His hands, his fingers, his sculpted chest, how he filled you, how he used you, how it was his turn. The pounding in your chest, living between your lungs, it was for him, it was because of him. Your skin, alight with a fire only he could put out, it burned for him. It was Yunho. It was only Yunho.

Watching you, how you shifted between lying completely limp and writhing in lust, he smiled. It was a confident smile, a cocky smile. Every other boy that lived beneath this roof, they’d kill to be where he was, kill to be doing what he was doing. Who he was doing. He had you whether you both cared to admit it or not, and you had him. He was the one you looked for, he was the one you’d run to, he was the one splitting you in half. You were in his bed, you came back to his bed. He knows you don’t know that he knows you had a taste of another boy, one who’s good at what he does, and yet here you are. In his bed.

The pride is quickly overwhelmed by a heat within his chest, swallowing his heart, chewing it up and spitting it out amongst his heaving ribs. It gutted him, he felt like he’d been shot, tumbling headfirst into a place he’s been too afraid to touch since the semesters started. Falling to his knees onto his bed, he laid you back down and lowered himself over you. Swallowing the last of your whines the guys would surely hear if they were in their bedrooms next door, Yunho kissed you, long and slow, like he had when you first sunk down on him. 

It was there, that gentle electricity that festered under his lungs. You kissed him back, desperate, and the feeling grew. With a few pushes of his hips he felt you tense, and he knew. He was right behind you. 

“Yo, please, I can’t… Please.”

Slipping a hand between your bodies he placed it where you wanted it and kissed your jaw as you threw your head back and sang for him. You, you, you. Intoxicated entirely with your being, like you were with him, he willed tears away and trailed his lips along your neck, coercing your high to find you. Short, staccato thrusts of his hips aided him along the way, maintaining his composure for your sake.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered, kissing every bit of skin he could get his lips on, his tongue dragging along. Looking down at you, your glossy eyes completely fucked out, he pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek. “You can do it, I know you can, Rory, you’re so good.” Your hands gripped onto him, fingernails pressing crescent moons into his olive skin. Breath picking up, sounds almost nonexistent, he knew you were there. “My pretty girl, taking me so well, making me feel so fucking good.” You squeezed him and he moaned aloud, sparking your high, the white hot pleasure washing over you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, unable to control how his hips snapped, “Where do you want me?”

Shaking, clinging to him for stability, clarity, sanity, anything, or simply because your heart felt like a rock in your chest when you looked up at him, you parted your lips and whispered, “Inside.” 

One word barely spoken and he lost it. Pushing into you, small stutters of his hips as he spilled into you, his sigh packed a punch, the sound unlike one you’ve ever heard him make. With a smush of your noses he kissed you, nothing short of hard or powerful, he wanted all of you. Between shared air and heavy, glossy eyes, you gazed at one another, the dewy sheen over your skin keeping you close together, the room hot and sweaty. Neither of you wanted to speak, but he was the first to do so.

“Why’d you tell me to do that?”

You both spoke in whispers, eyebrows furrowed, low, the both of you dazed and equally a little confused.

“I don’t… I dunno.” You gulped. “Did you hate it?”

Disbelief grew where the confusion lived. “Are you kidding?” He let out the quietest laugh. “Hottest thing you’ve ever made me do.” Releasing a breath, shifting beneath him, still feeling him inside, you smiled. “Now I get to take you home with me.”Yunho pressed his eyes shut and groaned behind his teeth before he laughed breathlessly. “Shut up or you’ll get me hard again.”

nice for what masterlist | talk to me | ao3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[nadvs]

push and pull (part two) (end)

pairing twin!rafe x female reader x twin!zach

summary life felt complicated enough when you started falling for zach. then you meet rafe. he’s the complete opposite of his twin brother, but he captures your attention just the same.

content warnings alcohol use, mental illness, mentions of parental abandonment

» intro post | part one

» masterlist

When Zach wakes up the next morning, he fully understands the term hangxiety.

His temples pound as he stares at his ceiling. At some point last night, he slipped from tipsy into drunk.

Thankfully, he didn’t get so wasted that he’s forgetting anything. But then again, that means every time he made an ass of himself is a memory etched into his brain.

He remembers welcoming his date. Having a decent time with her. Walking her downstairs. Her lips on his cheek when she kissed him goodbye. Feeling like something was missing, and then, that something wasn’t missing anymore when you came downstairs to let him in.

And he remembers looking over at you across the party. Wishing he was next to you. Feeling crappy for thinking about you while he was with another girl. Knowing he was idiot for thinking he could ignore his feelings for you and date someone else.

Talking to you in the elevator. Crap.

He buries his head into his pillow. Why did he blabber to you like that? His brother would kill him if he knew what he said. He probably already wants to kill him for loudly proclaiming how much he loves him in the hallway. Rafe’s not one for any sort of PDA.

Zach picks up his phone to text you: Trauma dumping to you was just a dream I had, right? Please tell me it didn’t actually happen.

You reply minutes later: you mean in the elevator? definitely a dream.

Despite his embarrassment, he smiles at his screen.

He replies: Sorry about that.

You send another text: it’s no problem. i’m guessing you have a pretty bad hangover.

He replies: Everything hurts.

You text back: make sure to hydrate and rest ok?

Zach smiles again. He can’t help but daydream about you coming over, taking care of him, cuddling him.

He’s worried about the consequences of things going wrong if he got into a relationship with you. But God, does he want you.

He replies: Ok :)

When he eventually leaves his bedroom, he sees Rafe lounging on the couch, still in his pajamas. Surprisingly, his brother actually tidied up.

It gives him hope that Rafe really is trying to improve himself. He’s had his fair share of meltdowns and Zach’s had a front row seat to all of them, watching his brother break down into tears, spiralling into his toxic, self-hating thoughts.

Once he calms down, every time, Rafe talks about how he knows he’s not a good person, that he wants to be better. But then, he sticks to his bad habits. He never gets the help he needs, even though Zach encourages him to.

Nonetheless, Zach never saw the bad in Rafe that he’s so adamant is there. At his worst, he can be violent, drunkenly throwing punches at parties, but Zach knows it’s a result of his emotional scars.

“Shit,” Rafe chuckles when he sees Zach. “You’re alive.”

“Barely.” Zach sinks onto the other side of the couch, closing his eyes as he tilts his head back. “You cleaned up for once.”

“Did you just say for once? I’m always cleaning up, asshole,” he mutters, making Zach laugh.

“I hope the neighbors don’t hate us,” Zach says. “The party got kinda loud last night.”

“This guy’s thinking about the neighbors,” Rafe says with a scoff. “The girl you were with looked like she was into you. Bet she would’ve stayed the night.”

“Maybe,” Zach says with a shrug, thinking back to his date.

Then, Rafe says he thinks you might be into him, too, considering he caught you staring. And Zach’s pulse picks up.

He loves and hates hearing that. Because if you really do like him back, it’s exciting, but that makes it even more crushing that he can’t pursue anything.

“Maybe,” Zach echoes.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Rafe laughs, thinking about how good you looked last night. “I’d jump on that if I had the chance.”

“But you don’t have the chance,” Zach murmurs. “If you love me, you won’t jump on any of my friends.”

Zach sits up and looks at his brother.

“By the way, you never said you love me back last night. I’m still waiting.”

“Yeah,” Rafe snorts. “You can keep waiting.”

────୨ৎ────

On Monday morning, you finally get a response from a student you found online who’s selling a used textbook you need.

You’d rather not go by yourself, so you text the group chat: i need to go to a stranger’s house to buy a textbook tonight. is anyone down to tag along so i’m not alone?

To your relief, Zach texts the group a minute later: I got you :)

That evening, you’re knocking on his front door. Instead of Zach, though, Rafe answers.

“Hi,” you say. “Is Zach around? He’s supposed to come with me to pick a textbook up.”

“Haven’t heard him since he got home,” he says, turning to look up the stairs. “I’ll get him.”

A minute later, Rafe comes down, keys jingling in his hand.

“He’s sleeping,” he says. “I can take you. I was about to go for a drive anyway.”

“Cool,” you say. “Thanks.”

You watch him lean over to slip on his sneakers, his frame broad and tall. It’s surprising that Zach, who’s usually reliable, forgot about your plans. And that Rafe, who you’ve come to known as hot and cold, is willing to help you.

He locks the door behind him before you make your way down the hallway together.

“He must be tired after practice,” you say, well aware of the team’s training schedule.

“Yeah, when he’s asleep, he’s out.”

You smirk to yourself, imagining Zach adorably bundled up in his bed. You already know he’s going to apologize profusely once he realizes he accidentally bailed on you.

“It’s only ten minutes away,” you tell Rafe. “I just wanted someone with me since it’s some random guy I don’t know selling it.”

“Zach didn’t offer to just buy a new one for you?” he asks.

“No,” you laugh, entering the elevator. “Why would he?”

Rafe doesn’t get Zach sometimes. It’s insane that he’s not into you, that he sleeps through plans with you, that he doesn’t offer to buy you something that probably only costs a few hundred dollars.

“Want me to?” Rafe asks. You have to laugh.

“It’s okay,” you say. “I already set all this up. Do you always offer to buy girls school supplies?”

He bites his tongue. If Zach wasn’t so adamant about m not being allowed to try to hook up with you, he’d flirt and say yes, he buys all kinds of things for beautiful girls.

“Not always,” he settles for.

The elevator doors open. You enter the parking garage and follow Rafe to his car, settling into the cushioned passenger seat. He starts the engine, then offers the cable hooked up his radio to you.

“Already know you have good taste,” Rafe says. You smile, plugging your phone in.

You’re Zach’s friend, but he figures you can be his friend, too. Because he wants to get to know what he can about you, to flatter you and joke with you and talk to you, even though the night won’t be ending with you in his bed. He has fun with you. He’ll take what he can get.

He backs out of his parking spot, putting his hand against the back of your headrest as he looks through the rear window. You gaze up at his profile, taking in just how handsome he is, how nice his cologne smells.

Rafe doesn’t know the song you put on, but he likes it. He turns forward in his seat, driving out of the garage.

You chat about your days and even though it’s small-talk, it doesn’t feel like it. There’s an ease with Rafe that you can’t really compare to with anyone else.

Still, he’s kind of intimidating, but you naturally want to keep challenging this way he makes you feel, cracking the wall he has up.

When you reach the house at the end of a dark street, Rafe parks in the driveway, turns his key and takes it out of ignition.

“You can wait here,” you offer.

“Nah,” he mumbles. He unbuckles his seatbelt. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

With Rafe standing behind you as you knock on the front door, the feeling of him protecting you is intoxicating, making your heart pound harder.

The door swings open and you greet the man you’ve been messaging. He’s holding the textbook you need and when you offer him four twenties, he looks through the bills and shakes his head.

“We said $100,” he says.

“No,” you reply. “$80. You said $80 was good.”

“I don’t think so.”

“I have the texts to prove it,” you laugh in disbelief.

“Really, man?” Rafe mutters. “Just give her the book.”

“$100,” he repeats.

“Forget it,” Rafe says. He steps forward, roughly taking your money out of his hand and pulling you by the waist. “I’ll just get you a new one.”

“No, wait,” the guy calls. “$80’s fine.”

“Get fucked,” Rafe mutters. You follow him to the car, still mentally catching up to what just happened. “Trying to scam you over twenty dollars. What a joke.”

You settle in the car, feeling Rafe’s warm, big hand curl your fingers open so he can give you your money back.

He’s fuming, beyond pissed off that someone would try to trick you like that. He’s glad you didn’t come by yourself to have to deal with this idiot alone. And he’s not sure how Zach would’ve handled it.

“How much is a new book?” he asks.

“Like, $250,” you tell him.

“I got it covered, alright?” he says. “Give me your phone.”

You comply, still a little jarred but appreciating how quickly he swept in to help you. You watch him enter digits, call himself to get your number, then hang up.

He returns your phone and takes his out, taps on your number, and quickly opens up a bank app.

“You really don’t have to,” you say.

“It’s fine.”

Within a minute, he sends you $250. It’s bizarre how he’s acting like that much money is nothing. Like he’s giving you change he owes you.

Rafe exhales slowly, starting his car again, coming down from the daze. This happens a lot. It’s like he blacks out when he gives in to his impulses.

But what can he do? He has a weak spot for you and he hates the idea of someone doing you wrong, of him not helping you when he’s totally capable of it.

He scratches his forehead. Zach’s words resonate in his head, telling him he needs to cool down and think before he does things. Sometimes his temper flares with no warning.

He’s sure he came off way too intense. He doesn’t know how to apologize for it. Before he can speak, you do.

“Can you come with me every time I have to buy something?” you say lightheartedly. It eases some of the tension in his chest.

“Was that too much?” he says, tone low.

You smile to yourself. You wouldn’t call it too much. He seems like he’s an intense, passionate person. Beneath the surface, Rafe feels more than he lets on.

“You didn’t let a guy con me, then you bought me a $250 book,” you reply with a laugh. “Trust me, you’re good. Thank you.”

Your phone buzzes with a text from Zach as you back out of the driveway. Crap I’m so sorry. I don’t even remember falling asleep. Did you come over?

You reply: all good! i figured you were exhausted. rafe went with me.

“Guess who’s awake,” you say, the smile apparent in your tone. Rafe glances over at your profile as you text back.

He hates this about himself, the envy that pushes him to be sure that Zach is so much better than him. That every girl, if given the chance, would pick his brother over him.

“So, you were going to go for a drive?” you say, tucking your phone away. Because of his kind gestures tonight, you’re pretty sure that he likes hanging out with you. “Want company?”

Rafe taps his hand against the steering wheel. Even if this is just platonic, he doesn’t want you to leave his car.

“If I can pick the music,” he says.

“You said I had good taste.”

“Mine’s better.”

You laugh, and because he held your waist just a few minutes ago, you don’t feel apprehensive to touch him. You nudge his shoulder. He smirks.

An hour goes by like a minute. When Rafe and you part, your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and laughing with him.

You talked together nonstop, touching on the most random subjects, finding similarities and differences. You have a deep crush on him. There’s no denying it.

When Rafe watches you step out of his car, he realizes that this isn’t just attraction like he’s used to. He feels like he knows you. And he likes you. It’s exciting and scary.

When Rafe makes it home, Zach is in the kitchen, the whole loft smelling like delicious food.

“You actually remembered how to get home?” Zach teases over the sound of ingredients sizzling in a pan.

“Lost track of time,” Rafe says. He settles on a barstool as Zach stands at the range, trying not to burn dinner.

Zach is glad his back is to his brother, because when Rafe tells him that he was with you that entire time, driving around and talking, his eyebrows furrow in anger and jealousy before he can subdue it.

“But before you lose your shit,” Rafe adds, “it was all friendly, okay?”

“Right,” Zach mumbles. He stares down at the pan, trying to breathe through his prickly frustration. He’s unbelievably mad at himself for falling asleep after practice.

You can do whatever you want, he knows that, but he feels that even though it’s just as a friend, you’re his, not Rafe’s. And his brother getting to spend time with you feels painfully unfair.

────୨ৎ────

The bright stadium lights pool over the deep green soccer field. It’s a cool evening, perfect for a match.

Cold seeps in through your jeans as you sit on the metal bench on the sideline. You have your phone at the ready to film the team as they rush the field for a home game.

You’ve grown to love your job. You found great friends, the TikTok account is earning more traction, and you’ve started to genuinely enjoy coming out to games and cheering on your school’s team.

It’s been almost a week since your night with Rafe. You haven’t seen him or Zach since. You welcome the distance. Liking them both is ridiculously confusing.

Minutes pass. The crowd is getting louder. The team still isn’t out on the field. Your dad runs a tight ship, so it’s weird that they’re late.

You head into the stadium tunnel towards the locker room, curiosity nagging you. A group of players are standing outside the door and you approach Chance.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

“Something’s up with Zach,” Chance tells you. Alarm rushes through you and you step into the locker room without a second thought.

Zach’s sitting on the bench by his locker, hunched over, surrounded by your dad, the team’s medic, and a few other players.

“Is everything okay?” you ask.

Zach looks up at you. His eyes are sunken, his lips parted. And then, he loses consciousness.

When his eyelids flutter open, the brightness of the room is so painful that he has to squint.

“He’s up,” he hears. It’s you. He hasn’t heard your voice in a while. He misses it.

He slowly comes to, realizing he’s in a hospital bed. You’re sitting to his left. The team medic is standing at the end of the bed with a doctor. He’s hooked up to an IV.

“What happened?” he rasps.

“You’re dehydrated,” the medic explains, leaning over to hand a plastic cup of water to Zach. “You’re at Trinity Hospital. You’re okay. Drink.”

Zach weakly picks it up, downing the cool water, his throat feeling raw. He rolls his head to look at you again. He knows it’s wrong, but he’s relieved that you look so concerned for him. That you’re here.

The doctor introduces herself, then explains that Zach was unconscious for so long that she’d prefer to keep him overnight to monitor him.

The news makes everything in him twist with worry and frustration. He just wants to go home. He doesn’t want Rafe to spiral.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m alright, though?”

“I’m not worried,” the doctor replies. “I just want to be sure you’re in good shape before I send you home.”

Within a few minutes, the doctor leaves the room. Then, the medic encourages Zach to drink more fluids, calls the coach to update him, and asks if you want to head back together now that you’re sure Zach’s okay.

You politely decline. You’re too worried to leave him alone so fast. And shortly after, it’s just you two in the room, listening to the beeps of Zach’s pulse.

“Dehydrated?” you say playfully, but still worried. “What the hell, Cameron?”

“I know,” he says with a smile. He regrets going hard at the gym today. He’s sure that’s what did it. “Rookie move.”

“I specifically told you to hydrate like, two days ago.”

Zach’s laugh is boyish. He reaches for your hand and squeezes. You remind yourself it’s likely nothing more than a friendly gesture.

“That was hangover advice,” he says. His thumb strokes over the back of your hand.

“It was life advice, actually.” You inhale slowly. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He lets go of your hand, remembering you can hear his pulse right now and not wanting to risk you witnessing it beat faster.

“It was way more than two days ago, by the way,” he says. He threads his fingers through his hair, suddenly self-conscious of how bad he must look right now. “Where’ve you been?”

You look down at your lap. You’ve been declining all the invitations to hang out in the group chat because the past few days have been so confusing.

Seeing Zach with another girl was painful, and then, you realized just how unimportant you felt to him when he slept through your plans, even though it was by mistake. You need time and space to stop liking him before you can hang out again.

“School’s been kicking my ass,” you lie.

“Do you need help?” he asks. He’d do anything to have you around again.

“Leave it to you to be in a hospital bed asking if you can help,” you mumble. Zach laughs. You try and fail not to fawn over his perfect smile.

“Did I faint in front of everybody?” he says, fixing his hair again.

“Not everybody,” you half-laugh. “But, seriously, everyone was really worried. We all care about you a lot.”

His heart warms. He may be in the hospital, but right now, he’s grateful for having people who care about him. It’s all he ever wanted.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Zach says softly. “And for staying.”

You nod. You were so worried that you told your dad you were going with the paramedics when they arrived, not even considering that you had work to do, that Zach was already taken care of.

“Of course,” you reply. “You said you don’t like being alone, remember? In that dream you had?”

Zach huffs a laugh and looks away, embarrassed as he thinks about that night in the elevator, but still appreciative.

“Did anyone call my brother?” he asks.

“I texted him that I’m with you at the hospital. He hasn’t replied yet.”

Zach nods and thanks you. He tries not to fixate on the fact that you have Rafe’s number. He looks at the clock hanging on the wall to see it’s late in the evening. He figures Rafe’s out with friends or with a girl, not paying attention to his phone.

He wishes he could just talk to him. With every second that passes, he worries more and more about Rafe’s reaction to him being here.

“I should’ve grabbed your phone from the locker room so you could talk to him directly,” you say regretfully. “But I told Chance to get your things for you after the game. Is there anyone else I should contact?”

Admittedly, you’re bracing yourself for him to mention the girl from the other night. Or any girl, really. But he only shakes his head no.

A nurse comes in to remind you that visiting hours are up soon. Zach sits up, visibly on edge, asking her when he can have visitors tomorrow. She tells him 9 a.m.

Knowing he won’t be able to see his brother in person tonight makes him anxious.

After the nurse leaves, Zach frantically asks if he can send a voice-note to Rafe on your phone. You open the conversation and hand your phone to Zach, noticing the nervous way he’s chewing on his lip.

“Hey,” he says into the speaker. “It’s nothing. I passed out from dehydration and I’m at Trinity and they’re keeping me overnight just to be sure I’m good, but the doctor’s not worried.”

His eyes flit to you and he swallows hard.

“This is nothing like the last time, okay? I know your mind’s gonna go there and this is not even close,” he continues. “You can come see me at nine tomorrow. And you better bring me food.”

Zach ends the recording, sends it, and gives you back your phone.

“Thanks,” he breathes. You nod, your eyebrows knitting in confusion and worry.

“Sure,” you say. “Is there anything I can do?”

Zach scratches the back of his neck.

“When he answers, please tell him that you saw for yourself that I’m okay,” he says. “He might be a little freaked out.”

You agree, not wanting to pry, and start to collect your things. There’s no television in the room and you feel bad that Zach’ll be left alone with nothing to entertain him. You want to help.

You tell him you’ll be right back, then rush downstairs at a vending machine you saw when you came in. After, you drop by the gift shop. It’s closed, the flowers and balloons locked up, but you’re still able to pick up a book sitting on a rack.

You leave behind more than enough cash for the book on the counter and go back to Zach’s room.

“Snacks,” you say breathlessly when you enter, dropping the bags of chips and candy and the paperback on the bed, “and a book. Hopefully, this’ll keep you entertained. And don’t tell my dad about the junk food. You know how he is about an athlete’s diet.”

Zach smiles at you, his eyes soft. With everything you’ve done tonight, you could simply be showing what a good friend you are, but what if you feel something for him, too?

The mention of his coach is reminder enough of why he doesn’t pursue this. It could get messy. But maybe he should be more like his brother. Taking risks. Allowing himself to do what he wants to do.

“I should go,” you sigh, looking at the clock. “Feel better, okay? We don’t stand a chance of winning without you.”

He laughs, his eyes lingering on you.

“Thanks,” Zach says. You turn to leave. He stops you with a gentle, “Hey.”

You stop, turning back to look at him. Zach takes you in, how good he feels when you’re around, how there’s still a little bit of worry written into your cute features.

He won’t tell you that he wants to you to be his girlfriend. Not like this, when he’s hooked up to monitors, stuck in a bed. He’ll do it when he’s out of here. He’ll do it when he can hold your face in his hands and tell you how much you mean to him.

“Seriously, thank you,” he tells you. “You’re amazing.” You smile at him again. If only he knew how much his words mean to you.

“You’re welcome,” you say.

You’re pacing through the parking lot when your phone buzzes. It’s Rafe calling you. You answer quickly. He says your name, his voice strained.

“I’m here. Is it too late to see him?”

“Yeah, visiting hours are over. I’m just leaving now,” you say, looking around the dark lot in case you can spot him. “But, honestly, he’s okay.”

“Does he…” Rafe pauses. “I think I see you.”

You approach each other under the starry sky, meeting by a line of parked cars.

His eyes are glossy. He’s been crying. No wonder Zach was so worried. He must have known the effect this would have on his brother. There’s more to this than you realize.

“Hi,” you say softly, ending the call. “It’s okay. He’s acting totally like himself.”

“He doesn’t have his phone?”

“No,” you say. “But I made sure someone’ll pick his stuff up for him.”

“What happened?”

“Before the game tonight, he was in the locker room and he looked really tired,” you explain. “He passed out, but he was already sitting and someone caught him, so he didn’t hit his head or anything. They have him on an IV and drinking lots of fluids.”

“Okay,” he mutters. “Fuck. I was at a bar and I wasn’t checking my phone… I got into a cab as fast as I could.”

“It’s okay,” you console him. “He’s good. He was more worried about you than himself.”

Rafe sighs, hands on his hips as he looks down and paces back and forth, hair hanging over his head. You can hear him panting.

“He was worried about me?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d he say?” Rafe asks the question the same tense way he did the night of the party. He’s so closed off, clearly upset at the thought of you knowing anything he doesn’t want you to know.

“I heard the voice-note he sent you,” you admit, “and he said you might be freaked out, but he didn’t tell me anything else. I didn’t ask. It’s not my business.”

Rafe chews on his lip the same nervous way Zach does. For once, you see a similarity between them.

His breathing gets even shallower. He rests his hands on the rear window of the van parked next to him. His body curls forward. His skin is flushed.

You step a little closer, searching his face in the light of the lamps lining the parking lot. He’s distraught.

“Rafe,” you say quietly.

His stare is on the ground, his chest heaving now. Something bad has been triggered in him.

“Hey,” you say.

“You can go home now,” he mutters breathlessly.

“I’m not leaving you like this,” you say. You take a risk, placing a hand on his back, feeling it rise and fall quickly.

“I think you’re having a panic attack,” you say evenly. “I get that this is scary, but I promise you, everything’s okay. Zach is okay.”

Rafe’s chest is tight. His veins are made of ice. He feels like punching something. He hates this familiar loss of control, this shock of the world crumbling around him with no warning.

Yet while he thought that he’d hate someone touching him like this, that he’d hate being so vulnerable, he actually feels a little better.

You continue to rub his back, sweetly and tenderly. The touches he shares with girls are never like this. They’re always superficial, fuelled by lust. But this feels like real, sincere care.

“You took a cab here?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he rasps.

“Did you talk to the driver?”

“What?”

“Did you?” you say. “What kind of car was it?”

It’s all in an effort to distract him, and while Rafe stammers his way through his answers about the driver and the car and the bar he was at, you notice his breathing start to even out.

Minutes later, his heart isn’t racing as fast. His chest isn’t as tight. He can think clearer.

He’s embarrassed, but relieved you were here to talk him down before he ran into the hospital and demanded to see his brother. He now realizes how bad that could’ve gone.

“I don’t…” he stammers. He doesn’t know how to say that this doesn’t happen all that often, that this is a piece of him he typically buries deep from everyone.

“What?”

“You probably think I’m crazy.” Saying the word out loud hurts more than he expected. It’s what he’s felt all his life, that something isn’t wired right in his brain.

“No. I get it,” you say. You shake your head. “I mean, I don’t know what happened, but… I’m guessing he was in the hospital for something before, right?”

Rafe meets your eyes, straightening.

“I get why you’re freaked out,” you say. “I would be, too. Memories can mess with us.”

The way you just calmed him down, the sympathy in your tone, the alcohol swimming in his system are what push him to actually be honest with someone for once in a long time.

“We almost lost him,” he admits. “A long time ago.”

Your face falls in sorrow, eyes searching his face. He looks down at the ground, too uncomfortable to meet your gaze again.

“I almost lost him,” Rafe mumbles, his voice thin. Because, really, he knows he would’ve felt the loss the hardest. His brother is the most important person in his life. Always has been.

And to lose him, someone so irreplaceable, someone he was with from the moment he was a living thing, would kill him. Zach’s right, even though he’s joking, that Rafe doesn’t tell him he loves him enough.

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “How old were you?”

“Fourteen,” Rafe says.

It was mere months after their mother abandoned them, saying she couldn’t stay with their father anymore, that she did everything she could do as a mom, that she was done.

It left a hole in Rafe that he feels every day. If Zach feels it, he does an incredible job hiding it.

He still doesn’t know what the final straw was. Why fourteen years of her sons’ lives was enough for her. How could a parent decide that they had enough of their kids forever?

She wasn’t the best mom, unpredictable and erratic, but he loved her. There had to be something wrong with her mind for her to act like that. To leave. Something that Rafe is sure skipped Zach and was passed on to him.

“That’s so young,” you say sadly.

“He was really sick for a while.” Rafe’s heart twists thinking about it.

How a freak case of pneumonia had Zach bedridden, his lungs fighting to keep breathing. How mad Rafe was at his brother, as if he did it on purpose. How sure he was that in some twisted way, his mother’s sudden abandonment triggered it.

He still regrets how he acted when Zach was discharged. He couldn’t talk to him for days. He was too angry for scaring him into thinking he was going to lose his best friend, his anchor.

“How long?” you ask.

“Weeks,” Rafe tells you. “And you know Zach. He kept telling everyone he was fine. Even as a kid, he didn’t want people to worry about him.”

“He is like that, isn’t he?” you say with a soft chuckle. Since you met Zach, you quickly learned he dismisses any notion of needing any sort of help. “But I promise, this isn’t one of those cases. I saw for myself. He’s good. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

Rafe nods quickly, finally looking at you.

“You’ll see him tomorrow,” you say with a small smile, sad but touched that he opened up to you like this. “Until then, just try to relax.”

Rafe loves the feeling of your hand on him. He can’t remember the last time he loved someone’s touch. If he ever even did.

He’s keeping his promise to Zach. He won’t hook up with you. Because he wants more than that. He wants to know you and for you to know him. He wants you to stay the night, every night. He wants you to be his.

And he needs to be sure you don’t feel anything for his brother.

“Are you and him…” He swallows hard. “Is there anything there?”

Your forehead crinkles in confusion. Zach had told you that his brother was his best friend. You’re sure he would’ve told him if he felt something for you.

If he has to ask, Zach must not talk about you much at all. You’re nothing but a friend to him. Although you do have feelings for him, you were right to be apprehensive from the start. He doesn’t like you like that.

“No,” you finally say.

Rafe nods. At least there’s no unrequited feelings on either side. He must have been reading into things, imagining you looking at his brother a certain way.

“You wanna grab some food?” Rafe asks impulsively.

You agree. Right now, there’s nothing else you’d rather do.

Rafe’s been on a handful of dates before, but sitting across from you at a quiet late-night diner, sobering up, getting to know you more and more makes him feel like he’s living in a dream.

He’s never felt this way about a girl before. Scared in a good way. Slowly, he opens up little by little, peeling back layers of the wall he’s been hiding behind for years.

He shares what happened with his mom. How Zach was the strong one, while Rafe acted out and made his life hell. You take in every word, seeing just how much guilt and shame and pain he carries around.

You open up, too, sharing things you don’t tell many people. He’s a good listener, and the eyes you thought didn’t have much hope behind them at first aren’t cold at all by the end of the night.

It’s one in the morning when you part ways. Rafe shares a cab with you, making sure you get dropped off first, watching you step through the front door.

Everything in him wants to invite you to his place, but things are going to be different with you. He won’t rush into numbing himself with sex like he always does, because he refuses to be numb or absent or checked out with you in any way.

────୨ৎ────

“What kind of grown man forgets to drink water?”

Zach looks up from his orange juice to see Rafe walking into his hospital room.

He chuckles, asking Rafe not to give him shit for this because you already did. The mention of your name makes Rafe’s heart feel lighter in this tense moment.

Because of how good it felt to be so open with you last night, expressing just how important Zach is to him, remembering everything they’d gone through together, Rafe doesn’t shy away from leaning over to hug his brother, who stiffens in his bed.

“Uh, good morning to you, too?” Zach laughs. “Is this a hug? What the hell? Who are you?”

“I love you, too,” Rafe mumbles, pulling back and holding up a paper bag of breakfast for him. “And I got you your food, princess.”

“You try eating hospital food,” Zach replies, taking the bag, feeling ravenous.

Rafe settles on the chair, remembering his brother at fourteen, picking apart at the food they served him with a look of disgust, yet telling the nurses ‘it’s good, thank you’ when they asked if he was enjoying his meal.

Rafe urged his dad to bring his brother home-cooked food almost every day of his hospital stay. It was one of the little ways he showed up for Zach, taking care of him instead of the other way around for once.

“What’d the doctor say?” Rafe asks. “Do you feel better?”

“She hasn’t come to see me yet, but I feel totally fine.” Zach digs into his breakfast. “How are you?”

Rafe looks down at his lap, sighing before he speaks.

“I freaked out,” Rafe admits. Zach stills. “She told me you said I would and you were right. But, man… she knew exactly what to do.”

“It happened when you were with her?” Zach knows what Rafe’s breakdowns look like. He has full-blown panic attacks. He’s nearly inconsolable. He wonders how jarring that must have been for you.

“Out in the parking lot,” he says. “It was just too much. All that shit came rushing back.”

Rafe shrugs, defeated. Sometimes, he’s able to give into the fact that he can do nothing but surrender to the chaos in his mind. He felt safe doing it in front of you last night. He felt safe every second he was with you.

“Are you okay now?” Zach asks. He notices the hint of a smile in Rafe’s face. A brightness he hasn’t seen in him in a long time.

“Yeah,” Rafe says. “I gotta ask you something, though.”

“What?”

“Does ‘off limits’ mean I can’t date her?”

“Date her?” Zach repeats, in disbelief. “You want to date her? Like, commit to her? You don’t commit to anyone.”

Rafe breathes a chuckle, pursing his lips.

“Well, now, I want to.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah.”

Rafe looks like he got rid of a ten-ton weight that was sitting on his shoulders. He’s relaxed. He’s content. Zach can’t remember the last time he saw him like this.

Zach became hyperaware of other people’s emotions at a young age. When their parents would argue, he saw what it did to Rafe, who would shut down and lash out. Zach would distract his brother in every way he could.

Then their mom left and it became ten times harder to keep Rafe steady. But Zach did it and he never stopped trying. Because helping others, putting their feelings first, really does make Zach happy.

But right now, he feels really far from happy.

He looks down at his food. He had it all planned out. He’d get in his best clothes, find a nice place to take you, give you a whole speech about how he hasn’t stopped thinking about you for days and how happy you make him and how happy he could make you.

“She feels the same way? Did something happen between you?” Zach asks. His chest is a hole. A pit.

“Nothing happened,” Rafe says, scratching the back of his neck.

It was nearly impossible for Rafe not to give into the impulse to hold your hand in the booth you sat at together last night and tell you how pretty you are and how much fun he has with you.

But he really does want to be a better person. He wants to think before he acts. And that means checking in with Zach that he’s okay with this, considering how tense he is about Rafe getting involved with his friends.

“But I think she might like me, too,” Rafe says. “And I made sure she’s not into you. I guess I was just reading into stuff before.”

That’s the moment Zach’s heart breaks. He licks his lips, his stare low. So, you would’ve just rejected him.

“You really like her?” he asks after a moment.

“Yeah,” Rafe says.

“Why?”

“Don’t make me be corny,” he groans.

Zach’s head is pounding. He wants to be mad at Rafe. But he had so many opportunities to tell him that he likes you, and he was too chicken to admit it. And now, his brother is falling for you. And he looks so happy doing it.

“You’re gonna have to be corny,” Zach says. “I need to be sure you’re not just messing around.”

Rafe sighs. It’s always Zach doing this, gushing over a girl, freaking out over if she hasn’t texted him back, getting all nervous before a date. Rafe used to tease him about it. He gets it now, though.

“You suck,” Rafe scoffs, tensing up. It’s hard for him to talk like this, but he forces the words out. “I don’t know. I like who I am when I’m around her. And it’s… when she’s in the room, everything’s better, you know?”

“Yeah,” Zach says. He knows. He feels the exact same way.

“Is that corny enough for you?” Rafe says with a scoff. “Are you cool with this or no?”

Zach chews his food slowly only to buy time before he has to speak again. He’s trying to act unbothered and it’s working, considering how in the clouds Rafe seems.

He has no idea that Zach is falling for you. Because he’s too busy doing it, too.

He meets his brother’s eyes. He takes a deep breath. And, because Rafe’s happiness has always been more important to him than his own, he gives him his blessing.

“Go for it,” Zach says. “And don’t hurt her.”

He’s never felt so bitter. He hates that he hopes you’ll have a change of heart. He hates that he feels like he’d treat you better. He hates all of this. But he stays silent.

────୨ৎ────

You’re having a late breakfast when Zach replies to your text asking to keep you updated.

Doctor cleared me. I’m home and I got my stuff from Chance. Thanks for everything.

His message is cold compared to how he usually texts. But maybe he’s just tired from the hospital stay.

You gaze out your window, thinking about everything that happened last night. Rafe isn’t as different from Zach as you first thought. Behind his hard exterior, he’s sensitive and gentle and so badly wants to be loved.

He confessed to feeling like something was missing in him since he can remember. The look in his eyes when you told him that to you, he seems perfectly whole, is one you won’t forget.

Being with him for hours was a wonderful haze. You didn’t want to part. He made you feel heard. It’s a joy that you’ve been lacking for a long time.

Minutes later, Rafe texts you asking if he can take you out to dinner tonight. You smile at your screen. You love how you don’t have to wonder about if he wants you.

The restaurant he drives you to is lavish and elegant. Rafe is unbelievably handsome across the table over the candlelight, his dark button-up making his eyes look all the more blue. Your stomach is full of butterflies, yet a sense of calm fills you when you’re with him.

You pick up where you left off, conversation flowing without any effort. He looks at you like you put the stars in the sky. You’re sure you look at him the same way.

When Rafe pulls the car up to your place, in an effort to keep you from leaving right away, he presses his palm against the back of your hand.

“Did you have a good time?” he asks, tone low, adorably nervous.

“Of course. Did you?”

Rafe chuckles at the question. Good doesn’t begin to cover it.

“You’re…” he begins.

“I’m what?” you laugh.

He squeezes your hand gently, turning it so he can lace his fingers with yours. The contact is warm, his ring hard but smooth against your skin. Your heart pounds in your ears as he stares at you.

“Beautiful,” he says. “In every way.”

His tone is sincere and firm. He says it like it’s a fact.

“And I want to keep doing this,” he says. “Seeing you. If you want to keep seeing me, too.”

“I do,” you say. When he leans forward, his kiss is soft but hungry, making your mind spin.

Zach fakes a headache when Rafe gets home. All he needs to hear is that the date went well. He doesn’t want the details.

────୨ৎ────

You’re wrapped in Rafe’s arms, your back flush against his chest, as music and chatter float through the air around you.

You’re settled on his couch, talking with your friends as the party rages. Rafe’s still getting used to what it means to be a boyfriend, tense and quiet around your friends, but he’d get used to anything if it meant making you happy.

You’ve only been dating a few weeks, but he’s sure if this isn’t love, he’s damn close to it. Aside from his brother, you’re his best friend.

You smile when you feel Rafe’s lips press against the side of your neck. He’s ridiculously affectionate, touching you whenever he can, spoiling you, whispering sweet things to you all the time. He’s completely unguarded.

Zach’s in the kitchen, as far away from you as he physically can be. After the hospital, he hasn’t been himself at all. You can tell he’s trying to be, though, forcing smiles around you.

It makes no sense. He called you amazing that night. But, then, he pulled away. It’s like he’s mad at you for dating his brother, but he refuses to admit it.

You’ve asked him multiple times if things are good between you. He reassured you over and over that they are.

Maybe someone else would believe him, but after you pined for him for so long, you can read when he’s trying to hide that he’s upset. At parties, at casual get-togethers, even at work when you’re making content for the team, he’s absent-minded and disinterested.

And whatever’s wrong, he prefers to hold inside.

Nonetheless, while your feelings for Zach have faded, you genuinely hope he’s happy and that you can be friends with him again one day.

The next morning, you wake up in Rafe’s bed. His arm is around your waist, his breath warm against your back. He’s still snoozing when you slip out of bed to get water.

Zach’s sitting at the kitchen island, staring down at his coffee. It’s almost funny how just over three months ago, you were here for the first time, yearning for Zach to give you a hint that he liked you. Now, you’re falling for Rafe.

“Morning,” you say kindly.

Zach looks up from his coffee. His smile doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Hey.”

You open the fridge, the awful feeling he’s been giving you lately sitting heavy on your heart. He makes you feel unwelcome, which is something you never expected from him.

“Just getting some water,” you say, searching through the shelves. “He’s definitely gonna wake up with a headache.”

Zach tenses. You’re doing for Rafe what he daydreamed you doing for him. Sharing a bed with him, nursing his hangover, touching him and smiling at him and giving him what Zach would die for.

You look so pretty in the morning, your bedhead adorable, your pajamas complimenting your figure. Why won’t his heart just catch up with his mind? He keeps telling himself to get over you.

He notices that you have Rafe’s ring on your finger. He used to imagine you wearing his things. He’d love to see you in his team hoodie. But he never will.

In another world, you’re in this kitchen as his girlfriend, talking about last night’s party, sharing kisses and laughs. But not in this world.

“I never asked you,” you say, your back to him, “how was that book I got you?”

You hope it serves as a reminder for how much you did for him and how much you care about him. It hurts, the way he’s been keeping you at a distance.

Late at night, as your mind drifts away from you when you try to fall asleep, you’ve considered the possibility of Zach being upset because he’s jealous of Rafe and wants to be with you.

But Rafe told you he checked with Zach to make sure your relationship was okay with him and he even said he didn’t feel anything for you. Maybe Zach thinks you’re not good enough for his brother and he’s too nice to actually say it out loud.

“Good,” Zach says.

You grab two water bottles and close the fridge door. One word is all he’s willing to say to you.

You can’t do it again. You can’t ask him for the hundredth time if you did something wrong, just for him to say you didn’t and he’s sorry that he made you feel like you did.

You leave him alone in the kitchen, padding up the stairs. Zach looks down at his coffee again. His eyes are starting to burn with tears.

He wants to remind his brother that they agreed they wouldn’t let people overstay. And you being here for even one night feels like overstaying. He can’t have you and every time he’s reminded of that, it hurts.

He can’t stop thinking about that night in the elevator and wishing that instead of drunkenly rambling about his brother, he rambled about his feelings for you. At least then, everything would have been out in the open long before you really got to know Rafe.

The girl he met through the video messaged him last night, asking if he was up to hang out again. She’s cute and nice. But she’s not you. And it’d be wrong to pursue someone just to numb the pain of not having you.

That’s all he wants. You. And because he was such a coward, he’ll never have you. Maybe at some point, he had a chance. Maybe you would have grown feelings for him if he was honest with you.

But you seem happy. So does Rafe, who actually wants hold you and kiss you in public. He was never like that with any other girl.

Zach realizes that while he was always so sure he coped with everything that life hurled at them better than Rafe, he wasn’t paying attention to how destructive he is to himself. His martyrdom was never a virtue.

He’s too late. He self-sabotaged. He has nobody to blame for his aching loneliness but himself. That’s the most heartbreaking part of this whole thing.

Rafe’s hair is tousled, his smile lazy when you come back to bed.

“Thought you left me,” he murmurs tiredly into your hair, pulling you tight against his warm body. You smile, your cheek pressed against his chest, breathing in his comforting scent.

Rafe’s sure you can feel his pulse on your cheek. He feels like you own every beat of his heart.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” you tell him.

The tension from what happened downstairs leaves your system. You swallow down the tears that threatened to fall when you left the kitchen.

You plant a kiss on Rafe’s chest. You know where you’re wanted. And you’re happiest staying there.

(the end)

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

[hazeyysworld]

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

character: george weasley x f! reader

genre: soft fluff

summary: staying with george after his “holy” wound

warnings: brief mentions of blood and his wound

words: 887

.・。.・゜✭・.

During the Hogwarts war, Mad-eye Moody had given Fred, George, Bill, Fleur, Hermione and Ron polyjuice potions to disguise themselves as Harry Potter.

George had gone with Lupin and soon was hit accidentally by Snape's sectumsempra spell which cut his ear off.

George had come back, weak, and was laying on the sofa bleeding thoroughly when you had noticed the commotion from the kitchen..

You let out a gasp, “George..” You say softly, rushing in from the kitchen. You had stayed at the Burrow with Molly.

George slowly moves his head to look up at you, offering you a smile albeit an incredibly weak one.

“Oh Georgie..” You whisper out quietly, nearly down at his side as Molly runs her fingers through his hair.

“How- how are you feeling?” You ask, resting your hand on his arm.

It takes him a moment to reply, “..Saint like..I’m holy Y/n..I’m holy..you get it?” He says, pointing at the hole where his ear was.

“You- you are pathetic George Weasley..” You softly say with a small smile, leaning your head onto the couch.

George chuckles softly, wincing as Molly carefully starts to clean his wound up. He looks at you gently, his chest still rising and falling irregularly.

”Yeah, I just wanted to make you smile is all.” He says, watching you lean your head on the couch by him.

You smile at his words, he always found a way to warm you up no matter the situation, “Get some rest George..” You whisper out, leaning up to place a kiss to his forehead as you watch his eyes slowly flutter shut, sleep overcoming him.

George slowly nods before falling asleep within minutes. As you continue to watch him, Molly pats your shoulder.

”He’ll be fine, dear. I’m surprised that boy is still so cheeky, given the circumstances.” She says, giving you a smile.

“Yeah..” You whisper out, finally moving from your position as you feel everyone else start to move and shift a bout.

Some hours pass, you sit leaning against the couch, watching George’s chest rise and fall as he sleeps.

George slowly stirs a few hours later, a small groan falling from his lips as he opens his eyes, the first thing he sees being your face.

”Hey..” He mutters tiredly, a groggy smile on his lips.

“Hi..” You say, a tired yet genuine smile on your face, reaching for his hand to lace your fingers together with his.

George smiles a little as you gently intertwine your fingers with his, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

”How long have I been out for?” He asks quietly, his eyes still on yours.

“Just a few hours..” You say, eyes wandering from his to the bandages wrapped around his head, “How are you feeling?”

He groans softly, slowly sitting up into a more upright position, pulling your hand gently into his lap and gently tracing his fingers along the back of it.

”I feel like I’ve been hit full force in the head with a bludger. Apart from that, I’m good.” He teases lightly.

“Right..of course..” You say with a giggle, looking up at him with a smile.

George gently grins at the sound of your laughter, his eyes fixated on your face as he continues tracing his fingers along the back of your hand in his lap.

”You look beautiful, love.” He says quietly, tilting his head to the side slightly to look at you properly.

“Thank you George..” You whisper out, “You look quite…holy..” You say with a grin.

George laughs out softly, rolling his eyes playfully at your comment before gently poking your side with his free hand.

”Oh shush, you know you’d prefer me with both of my ears.”

“Oh..I’m not too sure about that Georgie..” You say with a smile, “The one ear thing is really starting to grow on me..”

“Oh yeah, you find it attractive, do you?” He asks, grinning at you as he leans closer to you and lowers his voice. His grin only grows wider as he notices your cheeks beginning to turn a light pink.

“Oh definitely..” You say with a giggle, eyes twinkling as you look at him.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Harry sits awake nearby, thinking about how in his fourth year George was too scared to ask you to the Yule Ball, so you asked him yourself.

He remembers the moment exactly, the way George’s face turned as red as his hair as you leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek.

He remembers the way Dean, Lee, and others had teased and made fun of the Weasley twin.

He remembers in his first year when George was too afraid to even speak to you when you would approach them, he would stutter and look away awkwardly- not knowing how to speak to a girl, let alone his crush.

Harry remembers the first time he saw you two in Hogsmeade, your fingers laced with George’s, a huge smile on his face as he looked down at you.

In Harry’s eyes you two were to get married, to survive the war and spend the rest of your time together.

In George’s eyes, you were the witch he wanted to stay with for the rest of your lives.

.・。.・゜✭・.

notes: yay! first fic in the books, hoping to put more out soon- sorry if it wasn’t too good! please send in any requests!

[lemon-russ]

Your lion fic was beautiful. May I request more? Anything will do really. But here are my requests.

Lion angrily jerking it after experiencing one (1) emotion

Lion aggressively cuddling you. You're not hurt or sick or have lost feeling in your lower body temporarily, he just wants to be close to you. And be an ass about it.

You wear his legion colours/symbols and he gets really horny.

40k Lion reminiscing about an old lover from 30k (using that term loosely, they were probably just fuck buddies) and maybe they meet again in 40k. Let's say a perpetual reader.

Anyway these are just my brainworms. Feel free to ignore.

And yes, I am aware I have a thing for stoic men losing it and being absolute freaks. I am currently in search for a good therapist.

Sorry for the delay, but I feel adjacent to a human today, so I finally finished this! Also the way you presented it made me snort laugh haha, the kind message into "angrily jerking it" lmfao

Anyway here's The Lion straight jorkin' it (I like all your suggestions and might come back to the colors one especially!)

Tags: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye @lisikk

Thanks @squishyowl for the dividers!

Lion El'Jonson X Fem!Reader

CW: Lion straight up jorkin' it. That's all.

Stupid woman, Lion thought, slamming his chamber doors closed.

He started angrily undoing the belt of his tunic as he marched to his bed, fingers frustratingly fumbling the latch in a hurry.

Stupid, infuriating woman.

Guilliman had sent a representative to give The Lion updates about some missions the Ultramarines had been on, just the average doldrum of war talk. But the representative he sent was his little Ambassador pet.

“My Lord?” You had said, looking up at him between explaining supply lines, “You seem very tired. Did you not rest well?”

He’d been shocked by the simple question. He had indeed been without a proper rest for a bit too long. But, no one ever asked such things about him. He was a god to most baselines, infallible and untiring, beyond mortal needs. But you spent a majority of your time around his brother, so of course you could read him better than a random serf could. And you’d been… concerned. For him.

“Wh- I…” he had stuttered, caught off guard. That annoyed him. Being flustered by a tiny baseline woman’s concern for him annoyed him. The pang of unnameable emotion that shot through him annoyed him. The sudden pulse of pressure below his stomach, especially annoyed him.

“Don’t be daft woman-” he had spat back. You’d just smiled softly at the verbal attack, soft eyes scanning his face, studying the circles forming under his eyes. Then for some warp damned reason, you had gone and made him a cup of recaff. You placed it in front of the flabbergasted Primarch and returned to explaining your papers like nothing had passed.

Stupid woman.

The minute you’d given him a quick aquillan salute and been on your way out the door, He had turned on his heel and stormed off to his quarters, leaving confused serfs in his wake as he pushed them aside, some even falling to the floor. “No one disturb me.” He had growled, stalling their pursuit of him.

He finally pulled his pants down, holding his tunic aside as he knelt on his bed. That feeling that you had invoked in him had shot right between his legs. The whole rest of the meeting, he was struggling to focus on anything but how hard you had made him.

He grasped himself, groaning at the friction at last as he stroked. Your image assaulted his mind. You leaning over the table just enough that he could see down the far too loose tunic dress you wore. He growled remembering that glimpse of your breasts, infuriatingly framed in ultramarine blue. It should have been HIS colors.

He grasped himself tighter as he assailed his aching cock, falling back on his pillows. It should be Dark Angels green you were in. No- it should be nothing at all. You should be naked in his bed. You should be panting in his lap-

His hips bucked himself fruitlessly into his hand at the image. Your sweet face, flush and gasping as you rode him. Did you look at Guilliman the way you’d looked up at him? Did you fetch him drinks when you noticed he was worn? The thought enraged The Lion. How dare you go back to the Macragge’s Honour, back to anywhere but his bed.

He gripped the sheets, yanking at his tunic as he frustratedly picked up speed, ignoring the slight soreness from his calloused palm attacking his cock without anything to help the friction. It wouldn’t be an issue if it was you on him instead. He bet you were plenty slick, and tight-

He felt his balls start to tighten, drawing in a hissing, ragged gasp through grit teeth. His bed creaked with the cadence of his hips jerking up into his fist. You should be here. You should be wrapped around him, holding on for your life as he used you like a cocksleeve- he imagined your small hands splayed over his stomach for balance, trying desperately to hold yourself down against his bouncing.

He fisted his cock faster, frustrated by the sub-par sensation of his own rough skin, barely slicked with his pre-cum as he drove himself forcefully toward an orgasm. He was frustrated he’d immediately given in to such base instincts. He was Frustrated you could drive him to this with one little question, with one sweet look.

His mind flooded with the image of you giving him that little smile, eyes soft and concerned in defiance of his sharp words-

He let out a snarl as the heat in him snapped, shooting his spend over his stomach in jerking pulses. A few more hard pumps on his cock drained him, shuddering and mind blank, before he collapsed back on the bed, legs shaking and ragged gasps wracking his lungs.

He lay panting, covered in his own seed, twitching his hips up in the aftershocks. This was your fault. You stupid, damnable woman.

He groaned and let his arm fall to his side as the sensations eased from his need-drunk mind.

He had a very stern demand to draft. If his brother wanted him to keep playing nice- which he had been, he’d been very cooperative he thought, he earned some credit- If Guilliman wanted Lion to keep his word about their plans and supplies and defenses-

Then the cost was merely one insignificant little diplomat woman.

[jockwrites]

LUST - p.b

hi this is chapter two lol

warnings: angst, asshole paige

part: 2

a/n: this is pretty short lol. also the songs i put are basically what the chapters are based off of! sorry if that wasn’t clear, it’s basically some “playlist” thing i see other writers do!! 🙂‍↕️ also im basically putting you guys on..

its been 6 days since you’ve broken up with your boyfriend.

you and paige have been hanging out every day since, and you can say these have been the best days since you two have met.

right now, she’s at practice. that means you’re all by yourself.

you decide you wanna go down to the lobby, maybe grab a few snacks.

you check your phone before you leave, no calls or texts. that’s boring, and it sucks.

anyway

you put on your slippers and head out. as you’re walking you see paige’s teammate, ayanna.

“hey, ayanna. don’t you guys have practice?” you ask.

“huh? practice is tommorow” she says, laughing.

but you found nothing about that sentence funny. at all.

“well.. paige told me you guys have practice today?” you say confused.

“well blondie is lying. why she tell you that?”

“i don’t know. she said she had to leave for practice around like 1 earlier and i haven’t heard from her since.” you say, annoyed.

“whattt? girl its 9pm. no practice lasts that long regardless.. how vulnerable are you?” she says, giggling.

“ok shut up. can u text her? ask where she is? pleaseee?” you ask with puppy dog eyes.

“alright alright. gimme a minute,” she pulls out her phone, going to text paige.

as she texts her, you see her expression change. she’s looking weird.

“what is it? where is she?” you say, worried.

“she’s- she’s at her cousins.” she says nervously.

“are you lying?”

“no? i’m not. but i gotta go, ill see you around.” she speaks, walking away hurriedly.

you look around, wondering if you’re crazy.

you pull your phone out of your pocket, going to text paige.

hey, where r u?

you sit and wait. might as well get your rice krispy treat you’ve been wanting.

you walk over to the vending machine, putting in the dollar to buy your treat.

*ding*

*ding*

*ding*

“holy shit what the fuck dude” you whisper to yourself as you get 3 messages back to back from your friend.

you open the messages, and your heart instantly drops.

“what. the. fuck.” you say in your mind.

what the fuck? don’t you guys like .. idk talk?

that’s exactly what your friends message reads.

it’s three pictures of paige walking with some girl. and the third picture..

they’re holding hands.

all of a sudden, an incoming call pops up on your screen from your friend.

“holy shit girl isn’t that your little girlfriend?” says your friend over the phone.

“dude. where are you? how’d you get those?”

“i’m at chick fil a right now, and then i seen THEEE paige bueckers like omg woah then i see her with some girl that wasn’t you and that’s definitely like a omggggg woahhh reaction and so i-” she rambled.

“shut up for a second jesus. holding hands is like actually crazy. alright i gotta go.”

“alright bye babe but talk to her or something and fill me in on the tea pleaseee ok bye love you!!!”

you hang up. you don’t know how to feel right now.

you’re so overstimulated.

you walk back to your room, tears ready to fall from your eyes.

you check the message you sent earlier, and you realize you’ve been on read for ten minutes.

you put down your phone & sit back against your head board. you’re so confused, so upset, so angry.

you feel so stupid.

you start to cry, looking back on everything you’ve done for her. everything you’ve done with her.

she turned you gay, she made you breakup with your boyfriend, and now she’s cheating.

not necessarily cheating, since you guys aren’t technically together.

but that doesn’t matter, you’re off limits to other people and she’s supposed to be.

you don’t hold hands with your cousin like that.

after about 20 minutes of crying, you hear your door open. and speak of the devil, it’s paige.

she walks in, noticing you crying and immediately comes over to you.

“woah woah baby, what’s wrong? are you okay?” she says, confused.

“who is the girl.”

“what? who?”

“the girl! who is she paige?” you yell.

“i don’t know who youre talking about.”

“you know exactly what and who the fuck i’m talking about dude?!” you jeered.

“chill the fuck out,” she tempted, “and if you want me to be honest, she’s just a friend of mine.”

“nobody holds hands like that with their friends. you’re a liar.”

“no way you’re calling me a liar now. i said she was my friend and that’s what the fuck i said. drop it.”

“drop it? you literally said im off limits to other people, so how does that change for you?”

“it doesn’t. i’m just saying, she’s just a friend.”

“whatever paige. i don’t even know how you could do this to me after everything we’ve done for and to each other.” you whine.

“don’t act like a baby now. i’m not the bad person here, you are.” she huffs.

“how the fuck could you even say that?”

“well i’m not the person who left their boyfriend for a girl! i don’t know what you’d expect from me.” she snaps.

“what the fuck? you made me leave him paige! you asked, you convinced, you nagged. don’t flip this shit on me!” you snap back.

“well maybe i wanted to have a little fun. that’s all it fucking was.” she says, an angry look in her eyes.

“take a look around paige, nothing about this is fun to me. read the room. think about how i would’ve felt.”

“how the hell did you even find out?”

“doesn’t matter. don’t flip the subject.” you sass.

“whatever. i don’t know why you thought we were more than a hookup anyway. you’re obsessed and crazy.”

your heart drops. you immediately turn away from her, tears about to form in your eyes.

“get the fuck out.” you snarked.

“alright. i’ll do that then.”

“bye. don’t come back.”

and just like that, you hear the door close. she actually left.

tears immediately start flowing. you feel so hurt, neglected, ridiculed.

you cannot believe the words that came out of her mouth, after everything.

you sniffle and cry, thinking back on the memories you two had.

it would be insane to say it wasn’t more than a hookup. but you guess it was.

as you slowly cry yourself to sleep, you realize this was a mistake.

a/n: hi so this is horrible but pls stay tuned for next chapter, maybe smut maybe not 👅 also someone teach me how to make a masterlist pls??!!!

[naturesapphic]

can i request a scarlett johansson x younger platonic reader who gets cast in a marvel film and they are both so happy to be working together? maybe with some fluffy stories of them on set? thank you!

Casted Together

Scarlett Johansson x young!fem!reader (platonic)

Warnings: fluff :)

You and Scarlett have been friends for years. Being together in movies and seeing each other outside of work is what keeps the bond together, so you were pretty excited to be coming back to marvel as Natasha’s friend in the new black widow movie.

You’ve been in almost every marvel movie that’s been out, even if it’s just a mention of your name, a cameo, or you actually being in the movie. You were pretty big and well known for your role and got really close to Scarlett when y’all first got introduced in Iron Man 2. Ever since then y’all have been inseparable.

So when you got casted in the black widow movie you were ecstatic and you knew Scarlett was too. So when y’all got on set you immediately looked for her and when you did you ran up to her, taking her into your arms, hugging her tight. “Scarlett! Ahhh im so excited!” You exclaimed and she beamed down at you. “I’m excited too love! It’s so great to be working with you again.” Scarlett said.

You agreed and that’s when the adventures began. The first day was a real hoot. That’s when you met all the cast and crew. You got along with everyone, especially Scarlett and Florence. The three of y’all were troublemakers. There was a scene y’all did with the big pole in Budapest trying to get away from one of the widows and y’all were eating cookie dough. Y’all had chocolate all over your mouths and y’alls hands were greasy.

Another funny moment was when the three of you were doing the helicopter scene and you got your phone out while a five minute break was taking place. You went in front of Scarlett and Florence, putting funny filters on them and laughing your ass off. Scarlett went over to you and started laughing her ass off as you had a horrific filter on Florence. Florence wasn’t bothered by it at all and started doing different poses on purpose.

There was another funny moment when Scarlett had the white suit on and before rolling she was doing a little dance. You popped into view behind her and started dancing without her knowing. When she realized you were behind her the two of you started dancing stupidly together which made everyone laugh. This is what you and Scarlett used to do on the other marvel movies, where the two of you would be dancing randomly when there would be little breaks in between.

Another fun time on set was when she brought her daughter rose to set from time to time. You and rose always got along, forming a close bond between you two. Whenever Scarlett had big scenes to film you would volunteer to look after rose while she filmed. Scarlett was so incredibly grateful for that and said that she didn’t know what she would do without you. You kept telling her it’s no problem and that you loved rose. Rose and you would always cause mischief too. Doing little pranks here and there on the crew and sometimes even on Scarlett which made it ten times better. All in all, being casted with Scarlett was always a blast and you absolutely loved being in black widow with her and the other incredible actors as well.

A/n: thank you anon for the request and I hope you liked it. sorry this was so short but I tried to come up with different fluff little things with them on set but my brain isn’t completely working. There’s a hurricane happening right now so that’s fun- Fall/kinktober requests are open for all characters i write! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :)

[m1ngkis]

Jealous mean San << (18+)

A/N: MINORS BE GONE. This contains fingering, degradation (he call you a slut ALOT), San being jealous and mean to you of course, its in a parking lot but nobody catches them. Enjoy!

"Say it again.." His breath was heavy in your ear as he leaned over your trembling form.

"I- I can't" Your fingers dug into his forearm as his fingers plunged in and out of your needy pussy.

"You can, you will. Even if I have to fuck it out of you." His free hand gripped up your chin and forced your head up to meet his eyes, angry and desperate.

"Sannie~" You whine at him as your toes start to curl, his fingers picking up speed, the lewd sounds of your arousal only bringing you closer to the edge.

"Don't whine about it now. You knew what you were doing with that guy."

Ah yes, that guy. The guy that bought you a drink at the bar and took your short dress and friendly smile as an invitation to crowd your space and slip a hand up your dress.

You had never seen San move so fast, snapping the guys wrist and all but dragging you out of the bar, into the backseat of his car with fury blazing in his pupils.

San was always the jealous type, overreacting to situations more often than not but this had been the first time he had blamed you for how things went down.

"The fuck were you thinking going out like this huh?" Even though he gave his approval before you left the house. "No wonder he thinks your so easy."

"I'm not easy!" You had yelled back in his face.

"Liar. Tell the truth! You're an easy little slut, aren't you?" His frame had towered over you in the car, making you feel caged between him and the seats until you were laying flat, your legs on either side of his hips. "Look at you now. So pretty and you'd probably let me fuck you in this parking lot huh? Want everybody to see you fall apart for me?"

You shook your head even though your eyes betrayed you. The idea thrilled you and he could see how much when you didn't even put up a fight when his fingers slipped past your panties and through your slick folds.

San had edged you for the last ten minutes at least and he would keep doing it until you said the words.

"You're just an easy slut. Say it and you can cum on my fingers."

"I don't wanna say it! It's not true!" Your eyes brimmed with tears as your body shook with another denied orgasm.

"This pussy is soaking me up to my elbow. Try again." San's head dipped to your chest, sinking his teeth into your skin as his fingers started up again, ramming into your hole with a set purpose.

Your back arched up and your eyes rolled back, his name broken on your trembling lips. "Please.. please god!"

"God isn't here baby. He can't save you so say. the fucking. words." He growled into your ear.

"I-I'm a.." A chill ripped through your spine as the knot in your belly clenched tight.

"That's it.. That's my girl. Get it out."

"I'm an easy slut!"

"That's right. My pretty slut wanna come on my fingers?" You nodded your head with vigor as your high hit like a bullet train, your thighs squeezing together and locking San's hand in place.

He stays put until you come back to earth, placing a soothing kiss of his bite and slipping his fingers out of you. "That wasn't so hard right?"

[justallmyfantasies]

under these lights you look beautiful

are we dating? are we fucking? are we best friends? are we something in between that?

series masterlist

contains: 18+ smut! (teasing, fingering, unprotected piv, blowjob,

word count: 8.1k (i feel as if this is the longest thing i’ve ever written.)

alex was your friend, well best friend. you did everything together from first learning how to ride bikes to then getting your first job together at a coffee shop. both your parents knew you both wouldn’t concentrate working together but surprisingly they were wrong.

he invited you, his friend jamie and his other friend, matt to a party. this wasn’t his party, this was a party of a girl he had been crushing on for a few months.

he was determined to speak to her at this party, so he was hanging around her group for most of the night, looking like he was failing badly. you and the rest of your group silently laughing at him from afar. he was embarrassed.

eventually, he came walking back over. his shoulders slouching and his face miserable. “mate, she’s a psycho.” he sat back down, nicking your drink and chugging it all down.

“hey!” you protested. “that was my drink!” you playfully slapped his arm.

jamie turned back to the main conversation. “what did you say to her this time, man?” amused with his friends lack in the romantic category.

alex shrugged, his cheeks flaring up red in embarrassment. “i didn’t do anything, all i said was that she looked nice.”

you snorted, alex stared at you. you quickly changed your facial expression and started to fix your lipstick, trying to avoid his gaze.

you couldn’t help but say a snarky comment. “you seriously know how to charm the ladies, don’t you, al?” you smiled mockingly at him. al was a nickname all his friends used for him, he didn’t mind.

alex couldn’t help but smile at your comment, “piss off, you. you’re not any better than me.” he chuckled, playfully shoving you. “remember kyle?”

kyle was your ex boyfriend, well, would you even class him as that if you only dated him for 20 minutes?

you laughed, shoving him back. “okay yeah, i remember. and you’re right, i’m no better. but the difference is, you’ve had countless failures and i’ve only had one.” you paused, poking him in the arm. “so statistically that makes you worse.

he rolled his eyes at you. “statistically speaking, you’re a knobhead.”

"watch your mouth." you shot back, swatting his arm again, though you couldn't help but smile.

the party went on, you and alex spent most of the night chatting and laughing with your friends together. eventually the party was winding down.

you and alex were now walking home, he was drunk, but not crazy drunk, although his intoxicated state making him more bold made it seem so. you walked side by side, you kept your eye on him as he stumbled about.

the chilly night air made you shiver as you walked. alex noticed, but before he could say anything, he tripped on his feet and fell forward. he would’ve face planted the pavement if you hadn’t caught his arm and steadied him.

“you can barely walk without falling, you idiot.” you rolled your eyes, helping him stand up straight. “here, give me your arm.” he did what you said and wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leaning on you slightly. you could feel his warm body press against yours as you walked.

you tried not to notice the heat that pooled in your stomach. you pushed that thought down deep inside of you, shaking your head to try and rid yourself of those thoughts. it was alex for god’s sake, he was your best friend.

alex chuckled, resting his head on your shoulder. “you’re a good friend, y’know that?” he slurred, his hot breath brushing against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

you swallowed, trying to ignore the way your heart rate sped up. “yeah, i know. and you’re a total mess when you’re drunk.” you teased, trying to act normal.

he laughed, his arm around you tightened a little bit. “maybe i should get drunk more often, then you’ll take care of me.” he joked, grinning at you.

you rolled your eyes, smiling to yourself. “shut up, you’re a handful as it is. i don’t need you being a drunk idiot on top of that.”

“oh come on, you love looking after me.” alex said, his words a bit mumbled. he was still leaning heavily against you for support as you both continued walking.

finally, you arrived at his house. his house was small but homely, you had been in there before as he wanted to show you some new tunes he had been working on. he was music obsessed.

you helped him walk up the front steps, supporting his weight as you led him to the door. he stumbled a bit, almost falling again, but you managed to catch him. you shook your head, a mixture of annoyance and concern. he really was a mess.

once he has managed to open the door, he leaned against the frame. “thanks for bringing me home.”

“no problem, just don’t expect this every time you go out and get shitfaced.” you retorted, “and tell penny i said hi.”

he chuckled, rolling his eyes. “yeah yeah.” he paused. “you could stay here, y’know. it’s late and i don’t want you walking back by yourself at this time. plus, me mum won’t mind.”

you thought for a moment. staying over at his place would be more convenient than walking all the way home. and he was right, it was late and you didn’t feel safe walking back alone at night.

“fine, i’ll stay.” you relented, pretending to sound reluctant.

“great, come on.” alex said excitedly, grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. he led you up to his bedroom, which was just like the rest of the house, nice and cosy.

he let go of your hand and stumbled over to his bed and flopped down onto it. he let out a satisfied sigh as he sunk into the mattress.

you stood awkwardly for a moment, not knowing what to do with yourself. alex suddenly patted the empty spot next to him. “come and lay down.”

you raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t refuse. you walked over to the bed and laid down next to him, trying to keep as much space between you as possible, which wasn’t easy in a single bed.

alex rolled over slightly, facing you. despite being slightly drunk, he looked at you intently. “me and the lads are playing a gig this weekend.” he murmured, a lazy smile on his face.

you turned your head to look at him. “oh yeah?” you replied, shifting a bit to get more comfortable. “where is it?”

“just somewhere ‘round the corner.” alex said, he suddenly smirked at you. “you should come.”

you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “yeah? why should i come?” you asked mockingly, though you would probably end up going anyways.

“because i want you there, you twat.” he replied, the alcohol making his words slur together. he suddenly poked you. “say you’ll come.”

you batted his hand away. “alright, alright. i’ll come then.” you relented, knowing you’d never be able to deal with his constant pleading if you didn’t accept.

he smiled. “good.” he mumbled, he suddenly moved a bit closer to you, his body now pressing against yours. “i’ll need someone in the audience to cheer for me.”

you could feel your breath catch in your throat, your body suddenly feeling warm. the space between you had shortened considerably and you couldn’t help but feel acutely aware of every place where your bodies touched. “don’t be so cocky, i might not cheer. i might just boo you instead.”

he laughed, the vibrations of his chest against yours sending a shiver down your spine. “nah, you’re gonna cheer for me. you like me too much.”

you could feel your heart pound in your chest at his words, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how his words affected you. you forced yourself to scoff. “yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“i will.” he said matter-of-factly. he lifted his hand and gently touched your hair, playing with a strand. his fingers moved from your hair to your cheek, caressing your skin like some sort of treasured object.

you couldn’t suppress the shiver that went through your body at his touch. the air around you shifted, becoming thick and charged with tension. alex’s hand lingered on your face, the skin-contact making your pulse race.

“you’re blushing.” alex mumbled with a smirk, his hand still on your cheek. he suddenly looked thoughtful for a moment. “y’know, you’re pretty. it’s a wonder you don’t have some boyfriend drooling all over you.”

you gulped, your heart skipping a beat at his words. he was so close, you were nearly nose-to-nose. “oh shut up, you’re drunk. you don’t know what you’re saying.” you muttered, trying to cover up how flustered you felt.

alex chuckled, his hand moving from your cheek to your neck, his thumb drawing lazy patterns on the sensitive skin. “i do know what i’m saying.” he said, his voice lowered to a soft murmur. “you’re gorgeous, but you never see it.”

your brain was going into overdrive, the feeling of his fingers on your skin sending electric sparks through your body. you were having trouble forming coherent thoughts, but you tried to stay calm. “you’re drunk and you’re just saying nonsense. you don’t mean any of that.”

your eyes widened at the sudden change in position. your legs were straddling his waist, his hands resting on your hips. you were practically sitting in his lap.

“i do mean it, you know.” he said, looking up at you with something in his eyes you couldn’t quite recognise. his hands squeezed your hips, almost like he was trying to anchor himself.

your brain had short circuited from the way he was looking at you. there was a heat in his eyes that had your mind racing. you were too close to him, your thighs pressed against his waist, your chest almost touching his.

your heart was racing, and the butterflies in your stomach went wild. alex’s hands were on your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt and gently caressing your skin. he was looking at you with a mixture of desire and something else you couldn’t quite identify.

“alex…” you breathed out, your voice low and shaky. you needed him to say something, anything. the way he was looking at you was going to drive you insane. one of his hands moved up your side, his thumb brushing against your ribcage. the feeling made a shiver run through your body.

“you look so pretty like this,” he said huskily, his eyes raking over your face. “on top of me, straddling my hips like you belong there.”

his words made your breath catch in your throat, your head spinning at his bluntness. you swallowed, trying to think of something to say. the heat of his body pressed against yours, his hands on your skin, was making it almost impossible to think straight.

you kissed him, that took alex by surprise. he froze for a moment, his eyes widening. but then, he responded, kissing you back with a fervor that caught you off guard.

his hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you down so you were fully resting on top of him. his tongue slid into your mouth, coaxing and teasing you into a dance that left you breathless.

you gasped against his mouth as his tongue moved against yours, your hands coming up to grasp the material of his shirt. your brain was no longer functioning, all thoughts having been replaced by a burning need to be even closer to him.

alex groaned into the kiss, his own hands snaking underneath your shirt and roaming over your skin. the heat of his touch sent shockwaves through your body, making your head spin.

you moved your lips away from his mouth, trailing kisses down his jaw and to his neck. you latched onto the sensitive skin of his neck and sucked gently, the way he had done to you before. alex let out a guttural moan, his hands gripping your waist tightly. the sound made heat pool in your stomach, making you bite down on his neck.

he cursed under his breath, his hands moving to your back and pulling you down even closer. you could feel the hard planes of his body pressed against yours, the feeling was intoxicating. you continued to explore his neck with your mouth, nipping and licking at the flesh.

“god, you’re gonna kill me, doing that.” he groaned, his head falling back and giving you more access to his neck. one of his hands moved to your hair, tangling his fingers in the strands and tugging slightly.

you smirked against his skin, enjoying the way he was coming undone under your touch. you continued to explore the column of his neck, leaving a trail of kisses and nips along the way. alex’s breathing was getting erratic, his hips arching slightly, seeking friction.

you suddenly bit down on his neck, sucking the skin into your mouth and leaving behind a mark. this action caused alex to let out a strangled moan, your hands go straight to his mouth to cover it. his hands gripping your hips with an almost desperate force. the sound of his reaction sent a jolt of arousal straight through you, making you moan against his skin.

he suddenly flipped you over, switching positions so he was above you. his hands pinning your hips to the mattress, his eyes burning into yours. his gaze was dark and hungry, his lips slightly parted in an open pant.

the shift in position left you breathless, your brain unable to process the sudden change. your back pressed into the bed, alex’s body hovering over yours, pinning you in place. you could feel the heat radiating from him, his breathing ragged and his cheeks flushed with arousal.

his fingers moved to the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head. alex paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you lying underneath him, now only in your bra and pants. he let out a low growl, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin.

“god, you’re beautiful.” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. his hands moved to your waist, his fingers dancing along the edge of your bra. he suddenly paused, his eyes meeting yours, as if asking for permission. you knew what he was asking, and you nodded, unable to speak. alex’s eyes darkened, his hands moving to the clasp of your bra and quickly unfastening it.

he pulled the garment away from you, leaving you exposed to his gaze. his eyes took in the sight of you, completely unguarded and vulnerable. you could see the way his breathing quickened, how his eyes dilated with desire.

your body was on fire, the feeling of his mouth on your skin making your head spin. your hands clenched the sheets, trying to find some sort of anchor. when his lips found one of your nipples, you let out a choked moan, he smirked against your skin, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. you could feel the heat of his breath, the wetness of his mouth, like a brand on your skin. his hands continued to rove over your body, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

you could feel his body pressing against yours, a slow grind that made your head spin. his mouth moved back up to your neck, sucking and biting at the skin in a way that had you writhing beneath him.

“alex please.” you gasped out, your voice breathy and desperate. “i need you. please.” you hated how needy you sounded, but you were too far gone to care. alex let out a growl against your neck, his hands gripping your hips tighter.

his mouth was back on yours, his kisses frantic and desperate. his tongue slid into your mouth, mimicking the movement of his body. you could feel the muscles of his back tense under your hands, the heat between you continuing to build.

his hand suddenly snaked down to your pants, undoing the button and slipping under the waistband. you arch against him as his fingers brush against your sensitive skin through the tin material of underwear.

he breaks the kiss, his breaths coming in ragged pants, “god, you’re so wet.” he murmurs, his words making you shiver. his fingers continue to explore, dancing over your sensitive flesh.

his touch is driving you wild, making it hard for you to think straight. your body is on fire, your thoughts consumed by him, by the sensations he’s creating. his lips find your neck again, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses and nips as he moves down your body.

you can feel your body responding to him, your hips moving to meet his touch. his fingers delve deeper into your heat, exploring and teasing, while his mouth continues its path down your body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

he looks up at you, his eyes dark with hunger. he can see how far gone you are, how desperate you are for him. he moves back up your body, positioning himself between your legs, still fully clothed.

he leans down and captures your lips in a kiss, one hand coming up to cup your cheek while the other continues its exploration between your legs. you moan against his mouth, trying to communicate the need and desperation you feel.

his touches are maddening, drawing out every little sound from you while keeping you on the edge. one of his fingers circles your entrance, just teasing and not giving you what you want, he swallows your moan.

you can feel him hardening against you, the friction between you both almost painful. you need skin on skin, you need all of him, and you need it now. you break the kiss, pushing against his shoulder and flipping him over onto his back.

he lets out a surprised gasp, looking up at you with wide eyes. you straddle his hips, enjoying the fact that he’s now underneath you. you can see the way his chest is heaving, the way his pants are tented in the front. you move your hands slowly down his body, relishing the way he’s looking at you.

you slowly start to unbutton his shirt, your eyes never leaving his. the sight of his exposed skin has you salivating, you just want to touch and taste every inch of him. you slowly slide the shirt off his shoulders, revealing his toned chest and stomach.

your hands move to his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them. you can feel the heat wafting off his body, the muscles in his thighs tensing. you slide the pants down his legs, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

he looks up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and awe. you can tell he’s surprised by this new side of you, but he’s clearly enjoying it. you lean down, letting your breath wash over his ear, “i want to taste you.” you whisper, your teeth gently nipping at the sensitive skin of his earlobe.

he shivers, a low moan escaping his throat. “please…” he manages to get out, his voice rough with need. your hands move up his chest, mapping out every contour of his body. you slowly move down, your lips following your hands in a trail of wet kisses along his neck and chest.

you take your time, savoring every little reaction you get from him. each twitch of a muscle, every gasp, everything. finally, you reach the waistband of his boxers. you look up at him, waiting for his consent.

his eyes are dark with lust, his chest heaving. he nods, a silent command to continue. you hook your fingers into the waistband and slowly pull them down, freeing him. you take in the sight of him, hard and leaking. your breaths start to quicken at the sight, your tongue unconsciously darting out to the tip of him. the shudder that goes through his body at the contact is everything. you flatten your tongue and slowly drag it up his length, collecting the bit of precum leaking from him.

his hands move to your hair, tangling in the strands and gripping tightly. he lets out guttural moan, his head falling back against the pillow. the sound is amazing, to have him this undone because of you, it’s overwhelming.

your own desires are growing more intense, the taste of him on your tongue making your mind spin. your hands flatten against his thighs, your nails digging into the the muscles of his thighs, and he lets out a hiss of surprise. his grip on your hair tightens, and you can feel his body tense. clearly, your nails are getting just the reaction you want.

you circle your tongue around his tip, teasing and tantalizing. you can hear his breath coming in sharp pants, and you can feel his body trembling under your touch. his hands move slightly, not sure if he wants to pull you away or pull you closer. his head tilts back, a string of curses falling from his lips. you can taste the saltiness of him on your tongue, and you’re intoxicated by it.

he’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted, and you can’t get enough. your mouth engulfs him, taking him in as deep as you can, wanting to bring him as much pleasure as possible. he lets out a strangled moan, his hands now gripping your hair desperately. he’s losing control, the sight filling you with a strange sense of power.

you continue your assault, your tongue swirling and sucking him with everything you have. his hips are arching up, his body writhing and shaking, overwhelmed by the sensations you’re creating. he’s getting close, you can tell. the sounds he’s making are absolutely sinful and they’re driving you wild.

the fact that you’re doing this to him, bringing him to the edge like this, it’s the most addictive thing you’ve ever experienced. his hands suddenly move, tugging at your hair, trying to pull you up.

“please… i need you, need to be inside you.” he gasps out, his voice ragged and pleading. the sound of him begging, the desperation in his voice, it’s almost too much to bear. you move up his body, your lips finding his in a passionate kiss.

your bodies press together, the skin-on-skin contact making your head spin. his hands are everywhere, roaming over your back, in your hair, trying to pull you closer. you can feel his heart racing, his breaths coming in short pants. you lift yourself up slightly, positioning yourself over him.

he looks up at you, his eyes burning with desire. “please…” he says again, his voice a low growl. you can feel his need, how badly he wants you. you slowly sink down on him, taking him in inch by inch. his hands instantly grab your hips, his fingers digging in to the the muscle.

the feeling of him stretching you, the way he fills you completely. it’s overwhelming, and it’s everything you’ve been wanting for a long time. you sit still, adjusting to the sensations, while he just holds on to you, his eyes closed, his breaths coming in uneven pants. it’s like you’re both taking in this moment, relishing the feeling of being together like this. but then, he rocks his hips slightly, a small movement that sparks fireworks in your body.

you let out a gasp, your body going taut. it’s a silent signal to continue, to move, and you oblige. you start to roll your hips slowly, getting used to the feeling of him inside you. his hands tighten around your hips, his nails digging into the flesh for a few seconds before releasing. he’s letting you set the pace, giving you the control. but you can tell by the way his muscles are tensing that he’s hanging on by a thread.

you start to move faster, the sounds of your mingled breaths and moans filling the room. with each movement, the heat between you is building, the tension growing tighter and tighter. his hands are roaming over your body, touching every bit of you he can reach.

he’s murmuring praises, words of how good you feel, how beautiful you look. it’s like he’s worshipping you, and it’s more intoxicating than any drug. you start to ride him in earnest now, the pace fast and needy. you can feel the heat building, the sensations overwhelming.

you lean down, your lips finding his in a messy, desperate kiss. his hands find their way to your hair, gripping tight, pulling you closer. the intensity is growing, your bodies moving together perfectly.

he breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, mouthing and sucking at the skin there. “i’m close.” he gasps out, his breaths ragged and uneven. “i don’t know how much longer i can hold on.”

“look at me.” you say, your voice firm, demanding his attention. his eyes snap open, locking on yours. they’re burning with need, filled with a fire that you can’t resist. you cup his face in your hands, your eyes never leaving his. “i want to see you let go. i want to see you lose control.”

his eyes widen at the words, his brain processing your request. then, like a dam breaking, he lets go. his body tenses, his muscles straining. his hands grip you tighter, almost enough to leave marks. his eyes are locked with yours, and you see the moment he loses control.

his eyes roll back, his head falls back on the pillow, and a guttural moan tears from his throat. his release is intense, shuddering through his body in waves, his hands pulling you down against him as he rides the wave. watching him, feeling him beneath you, it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

it’s like seeing a god unraveling before you, and it’s so much more than you ever expected. you collapse on top of him, your body feeling weak and shaky. his arms wind around you, holding you tight against him.

his breathing is still coming in harsh pants, he’s trying to regain his composure, but is clearly having difficulty. you bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent, relishing the familiarity of it. you can hear his heart hammering in his chest, so close to your ear.

you just lay there for a moment, wrapped up in each other. neither of you have the energy to move, and it feels like time has stopped. it’s like the world exists only in this moment, nothing else matters but each other. he brushes a hand down your back, a gentle, soothing gesture.

“i think you actually broke me.” he says after a while, his voice still rough and thick with emotion. you lift your head and look up at him. his hair is sticking up in all directions, his face flushed. he looks well and truly ruined, and the sight fills you with pride.

“good.” you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

he lets out a weak laugh, his eyes full of affection. “i didn’t know you had it in you.” he says, his hand still stroking your back. you just shrug and rest your head on his chest.

his heart rate is finally slowing down, his breathing evening out. the two of you are silent for a few moments, just soaking up the afterglow. he lifts his hand from your back and starts running his fingertips over your skin, drawing invisible lines over your back, shoulders, arms. it’s soothing, almost lulling you to sleep.

but then, he speaks again, pulling you from your near-slumber. “can i ask you something?” he says, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. you lift your head and look up at him, seeing the hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“if you want.” you reply, your voice gentle. you can tell he has something serious on his mind, and you want to hear what it is. he’s silent for a few long moments, his fingers still tracing patterns on your skin.

“what are we doing?” he finally asks, his voice quiet and a little guarded. “like, we’re best friends.. this isn’t normal, is it?” you’re surprised by the question, by the vulnerability in his tone. but you also know that it’s a conversation that needs to happen. you take a deep breath and think for a second before answering.

“normally, no, it isn’t.” you answer honestly. “friends don’t usually do what we just did.” you can feel his body tense slightly at your words, but you continue. “but to be fair, we’ve never been normal, have we?”

he lets out a small chuckle, the sound filled with both understanding and relief. you can tell he’s glad you agree with him, that he’s not the only one feeling a bit thrown off by the situation. he’s quiet for a moment, mulling over your words.

“so what does this mean for us?” he asks, his voice filled with uncertainty. “are we just friends who occasionally do this?” he gestures between the two of you. you can feel the question hanging in the air, heavy with implication.

you take a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain everything you’re feeling. “i don’t know” you say truthfully. “i mean, obviously i care about you, more than just a friend. i don’t do this with just anyone.” you can feel him relax slightly, relief washing over his face at your admission. “but i don’t know if it’s a good idea to put a label on it right now.” you continue, trying to be as honest with him as possible. “i care about you a lot, and i don’t want to lose our friendship, but… i don’t want to mess things up either.” he nods, his head bumping against the pillow with the movement.

“i feel the same way.” he says, his voice quiet. “i don’t want to lose you, and i don’t want to mess this up either.” there’s a pause, the room filled with the sounds of your breathing.

the work is boring as usual, a slow day in a slow week. you’re manning the counter, your chin resting in your hand, bored out of your mind. alex is in the back, sorting through a box of new arrivals.

you let out a sigh, tapping your fingers against the counter. you swear it’s been hours, and there hasn’t been a single customer. you glance towards the back room, wondering what’s taking alex so long.

finally, you decide to go see what he’s up to. you push away from the counter and head into the back. you find him standing there, going through a box of records, his back to you.

“find anything good?” you ask, walking over to him. he jumps at the sound of your voice, clearly not expecting you. he turns around, a sheepish look on his face.

you can’t help but smile at the sight. even though he’s just doing mundane work, there’s something about him that’s always so endearing. you clear your throat, letting him know you’re there.

he jumps a little, clearly surprised by your presence. he looks up, a sheepish smile on his face. “ah, hey, uh nothing good.” he says, running a hand through his hair. “how’s the front desk?”

“boring as hell.” you reply, moving further into the room. “i swear it’s been hours, and we haven’t had a single customer.” you come to stand beside him, peering into the box of records.

he lets out a huff of agreement. “yeah, it’s been weirdly quiet today.” he rummages through a few more records. “i think we’re just gonna have to entertain ourselves.”

you raise an eyebrow, a sly smile spreading across your face. “and how do you propose we do that?” you ask, leaning your hip against the table.

he looks up at you, a similar smile spreading across his face. “hmm, i’m not sure yet.” he says, his eyes looking over at the janitors room then back at you.

you follow his gaze, a shiver of excitement running down your spine. “the janitors room?” you ask, your voice lowering. “what about front desk?”

he just shakes his head, a sly grin on his face. “i’m sure it’ll be fine. besides, lucy is out there.” he sets down the record in his hand and reaches out, grabbing your wrist and tugging you forward.

you let him lead you deeper into the back of the store, your heart rate picking up in anticipation. you’ve never done anything like this here, and the thought of it is making your body hum with excitement.

you reach the janitors room, the tiny space just big enough for two people. alex pulls you inside, shutting the door behind him. the room is small and dark, the only light coming from the cracks in the door.

he presses you against the back wall, his body trapping you in place. his eyes are burning bright, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. his hands are on your hips, his grip tight.

“you know we’re gonna get in trouble if anyone catches us.” you say, your voice barely a whisper. your body is already responding to his touch, growing eager and needy.

“i don’t care.” he replies, his voice low and rough. he leans in, his lips moving to your neck, mouthing at the sensitive skin there. his hands move to the hem of your shirt, slipping under the fabric, his palms hot against your skin.

you let out a gasp, your head falling back against the wall. your body is already reacting to his touch, heat pooling between your thighs. his mouth is making it hard to think, your mind becoming filled with a fog of desire.

he pushes you further against the wall, your body pressed fully against his. you can feel his erection against your hip, a hard reminder of his own desire. his lips move up your neck, his teeth biting down on your earlobe, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

his hands are roaming over your skin now, touching you everywhere he can reach. they move up your stomach, tracing the curves of your body, leaving behind a trail of heat. he grinds his hips against you, the friction making you moan softly.

“you have to be quiet, love.” his voice is hot against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. you nod feebly, trying to hold back another moan as he grinds against you again. his hands are moving higher now, slipping higher under your shirt.

he pushes your shirt up, exposing more of your skin to his roaming hands. his fingers find your bra, teasing the edge of the fabric. he lets out a soft huff against your neck as he toys with the fabric.

you arch into his touch, your body practically begging for more. he seems to get the message, one hand leaving your skin to fumble with the hooks of your bra. your breath is coming in short pants, the wait and anticipation almost too much to bear.

finally, he manages to undo the hooks, the bra falling loose around your shoulders. his hand is warm against your skin, palming your breast, his fingers tweaking your nipple. you let out a moan, biting down on your lip to try and keep yourself quiet.

his lips are back on your neck, his tongue tracing patterns against your skin. you can feel him shifting slightly, his other hand undoing the buttons of your jeans. his hand slips under the waistband of your jeans, his fingers rubbing against your panties. you can feel how soaked you are, the fabric already clinging to you.

another moan spills from your lips, the sounds of your ragged breathing filling the small room. alex presses his lips to your neck in a silent warning, telling you to keep your voice down. but it’s hard, almost impossible, when he’s touching you like this, when your body is buzzing with desire. his fingers are tracing patterns over your panties now, adding to the growing tension. your nails dig into his back, desperate for something to anchor yourself to.

he let out a low groan, biting down on your shoulder. he clearly likes the way you’re clinging to him, the sounds you’re making, because he’s pressing you harder against the wall, his body pinning you in place.

his fingers finally push your panties aside, his touch making you whine, the sound only muffled by the skin of his shoulder. “fuck,” you gasp out, your voice pleading. “please.”

you can feel his smile against your skin, clearly enjoying how needy he’s making you. but the smugness only lasts a second before he obliges, his fingers slipping into your wetness, making you bite down on his shoulder again.

you’re trying so hard to keep yourself quiet but it’s difficult, his fingers are doing things to you, making you feel things that are hard to restrain. his movements are firm and sure, clearly intending to take you apart, to push you right to the edge. the room is small and dark, filled with the sounds of your combined ragged breathing and the rustle of clothing against skin.

his fingers are working you now, his mouth back on your neck, sucking and biting at the skin, leaving behind marks that you’ll have to hide later. your hands are fisted in his shirt, your nails digging into the fabric. it’s all becoming too much, the pleasure building and building, but just out of reach.

“please,” you gasp out again, your voice desperate. “I need you, please.” your body is taut, practically trembling with tension. you’re so close to the edge, but you just need that last little push.

alex lifts his head from your neck, his eyes meeting yours. they’re dark and intense, filled with a desire that matches your own. his voice is thick when he speaks, his body clearly also affected. he withdrew his hand from you, placing them onto his belt and undoing it.

your eyes follow his movements, watching as he quickly undoes his pants. you’re eager and impatient, wanting him as close as possible. he pushes the fabric down his hips, freeing himself, and you reach for him, your hands gripping his shoulders.

he spins you around, pressing your front against the wall. you can feel the coldness of the concrete against your skin, a stark contrast to his warmth. his hands are on your hips again, his body pressed flush against yours.

his lips are at your ear again, his voice ragged. “do you want me?” he asks, the question a mix of teasing and genuine need. you arch against him, pushing your hips back against his.

“yes.” you gasp out, your voice filled with want. “yes, please, I need you.” your body is buzzing with anticipation, desperate for more.

he lets out a low growl at your admission, his hands gripping your hips tighter. “good, because I need you too.” he says, his voice rough with desire. he pushes himself against you, his chest pressed against your back.

you can feel his hardness rubbing against your backside, the friction making you whine. your own body is practically begging for him, your muscles quivering with need.

he shifts slightly, his hand moving to your thigh, lifting your leg up. he lifts it, hooking your shoe to the edge of the counter. this new angle makes you whimper, your body now open and exposed.

he pauses for a moment, his hand ghosting over your inner thigh, his touch light yet electrifying. “you okay?” he asks, his voice quiet but hoarse. you can only nod, your body practically vibrating with anticipation.

he clearly takes your nod as an okay, because suddenly, he’s pressing himself against you, his hips fitting perfectly against yours. you let out a gasp, your skin feeling electric, your hands gripping the edge of the counter.

his arms wrap around your middle, holding you in place, his lips at your ear again. “you’re so tight, so perfect” his voice is a low rumble, his words making you shiver. one of his hands moves up your torso, his fingers teasing your skin.

his touch feels maddening, your nerve endings firing in response. you push back against him, trying to get as much contact as possible, your body craving more. he lets out another low growl, his hips moving faster now, the rhythm picking up.

his hand moves higher, his fingers ghosting over your breast, his touch just a tease. it’s driving you insane, the way he’s touching you, his pace and the angle he has you at, it’s all slowly driving you towards the edge.

you can feel him everywhere, his hands on your skin, his body against yours, his breath hot against your ear. with each thrust he’s pushing you closer and closer to the edge, each movement making you gasp and whimper.

“please” you find yourself whispering, your voice needy and desperate. “please, harder.” your body is screaming for more, the pleasure becoming nearly overwhelming. alex’s response is immediate, his grip on you tightening, his movements becoming relentless. you’re being pushed against the wall, your feet just barely able to stay on the ground as he moves behind you. his body is pressed against yours, his chest against your back, his breath coming in short pants against your ear.

“you feel so good.” he gasps out, his voice broken with need. “i’m so close, i’m..” the rest of the words are lost as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

you can feel his pace becoming erratic, his movements becoming less coordinated. he’s close, you can tell, and that thought alone pushes you closer to the edge as well. his hands are gripping your hips now, holding you in place.

you arch against him, the sensation almost too much to bear. the room feels hot and cramped, your sweat mixing with his as you cling to each other. you’re so close, your breath coming in short pants, your muscles taut with tension.

“please.” you gasp out again, your voice broken and needy. “please, i need.. fuck.” your words are cut off as another moan slips past your lips, the pleasure building and building until it’s almost unbearable.

his movements become more frantic, his hips moving harder and faster, his breathing ragged. you can tell he’s close, the way his body is tensing, the way he’s gripping you tighter. it’s enough to send you over the edge, your body jerking as pleasure rushes through you, a wave of heat and ecstasy that makes your vision go white.

alex lets out another groan, his body stilling against yours as he reaches his own climax, his breath hot against your skin. you both collapse against the wall, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. your body feels heavy and shaky, your legs barely able to support you.

alex’s arms are still around you, his body pressed against yours. he’s still breathing heavily, his forehead resting against your shoulder. for a moment you both just stand there, basking in the afterglow, the only sound your ragged breaths.

“well.” alex finally says, his voice slightly hoarse. “that was…” he doesn’t finish the sentence, but you can feel his grin against your skin. you let out a shaky laugh, your body still trembling slightly.

“yeah.” you agree, the word coming out as a sigh.

alex lets out a huff of agreement, his hands gently stroking your hips. “we should probably clean up.” he murmurs, kissing the skin of your shoulder softly.

you nod and slowly push yourself off the wall, your legs feeling shaky and weak. alex steps back, giving you room to turn around and grab some paper towels. your hands are still shaking slightly as you clean yourself up, but you can still feel the afterglow buzzing beneath your skin.

“god.” alex says, his voice still low and ragged. “i’m never going to look at this room the same way again.” you glance over at him, and he’s standing there with his pants undone, his shirt wrinkled, and a satisfied smirk on his face.

you can’t help but laugh, the absurdity of how disheveled you both are hitting you. “well, we can add ‘janitor’s room’ to the list of places we’ve… uh, defiled.”

alex actually snorts at that, his grin widening. “oh yeah? what other places are on that list?” he asks, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

you were about to reply when somebody knocked on the door. both you and alex freeze instantly, the knocking interrupting the peaceful afterglow. alex curses under his breath, quickly doing up his pants.

you shove the used paper into a nearby trash can, quickly checking your clothes to make sure nothing is obviously out of place. the knocking comes again, more insistent this time.

“just a second!” alex calls out, his voice sounding deceptively casual. he glances over at you, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

you give him an affirmative nod, smoothing down your hair one last time. you’re both presentable, as long as whoever is on the other side of the door doesn’t look too closely. alex reaches out, taking a deep breath before unlocking the door and opening it a crack. you hold your breath as you hear a familiar voice.

“there you are!” lucy’s voice filters through the crack in the door, and you can just barely catch a glimpse of her blonde hair. you can’t see her expression, but she sounds slightly annoyed.

“uh, hey!” alex says, his voice coming out a bit too cheerful. he’s covering for you both well enough, and you’re not sure whether to be impressed or concerned.

“what’re you doing in there?” lucy asks, and there’s definitely a note of suspicion in her voice now. she tries to peer around him, but he quickly steps forward, blocking her view.

“oh, uh, i was just… looking for something.” alex replies, his voice slightly strained. he’s desperately trying to sound nonchalant, but you can hear the slight edge of panic in his tone.

“like what?” lucy asks, her voice growing more curious now. you’re almost afraid she’s going to push the door open and catch you both in the act.

“uh, my phone!” alex says, his voice taking on a falsely positive tone. “i thought i lost it in here.” he holds up his hand, showing the phone clutched in his grip.

there’s a pause on the other end of the door, and you can practically feel lucy’s skepticism through the wood. finally, after what feels like an eternity, she speaks again. “alright. come back out now. we’ve got customers.”

“be right there!” alex calls out. he waits for a moment, probably listening to make sure lucy has walked away, before he closes the door and turns back to you. he groans, running a hand through his hair.

“that was close.” he mutters, and you can see the tension in his shoulders. he’s trying to hide it, but he’s clearly shaken up by the near-miss.

“yeah” you agree, your voice coming out a bit breathless. “too close.” you can still feel the lingering adrenaline from the near-miss, mixed with the heady afterglow from before.

alex lets out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “guess we should get back out there.” he says reluctantly. he takes a step closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek softly. “you okay?”

you lean into his touch, relishing the feel of his skin against yours. “yeah, i’m fine.” you tell him, giving him a small smile. his concern is warming, and you can see the worry in his eyes.

“good.” he replies, his voice low and soft. he brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, his gaze studying your face. his touch is gentle, almost reverent, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

he leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “i better get back out there.” he murmurs against your skin. “you follow in a bit. try to look a bit less… disheveled.”

you huff out a laugh, knowing he’s right. “okay” you tell him, letting go of his hand. “i’ll be out soon.” alex nods in acknowledgement, giving you one last lingering look before he opens the door and steps out, closing it quietly behind him. you’re alone now, the silence of the room surrounding you.

was it this normal to catch feelings for your best friend?

[sarah-bear706318]

Chasing Storms and Finding Love. Chapter 3:

Series Summary: When Tyler's baby sister joins him and his team for a season she seems to catch the eye of a certain StormPar member much to her brothers dismay... will she listen listen to her big brother or follow her heart?

Chapter summary: Tyler talks to the rest of the wranglers about the possibility of teaming up with StormPar. Reader goes on her first chase and it doesn't go as she thought it would and Scott gets worried watching the stream and seeing things going south.

Pairing: Scott Miller X fem!reader, Tyler Owens x sister!reader

Warnings: Sneaking around, Pissed off Tyler, Love Struck Scott, ALOTS of kissing, A little age gap, Cussing, Drinking, Storms(duh), Falling in love, Slow burn

@nikkicloudie @papichulo120627

As you walk into the diner you look around trying to find the crew, it doesn't take you long to spot them in a large rounded booth in a back corner. They all seem to have coffee and and are just chatting with each other,waiting for you and Tyler.

"Morning crew" Tyler greets his crew

"Good morning yall" You greet everyone with a small smile

The crew say their good morning and all start scooching over to make room for you and your brother to slide in. You end up in sitting in between your brother and Boone.

You all look over the menu, everything looks so good,y ou see about 15 things you want to order. It's safe to say your mouth was watering. About 10 minutes of looking the waitress is back at the table and taking everyone's orders.

When it's your turn you order the cinnamon roll pancakes and a side of bacon. Once everyone has place their orders the waitress collects all the menus and heads to the back.

"So T what did you want to talk to us about" Boone ask looking over to your brother

"Before I say anything I want yall to keep an open mind and listen to what I have to say before you comment or give an answer" Tyler says looking at his crew, seeing them all nod and promising they would.

"So we know they are predicting this to be the biggest busiest and the longest storm seaon in over 40 years right" he pauses and looks to his crew before continuing.

"So as I was getting coffee for me and Y/n this morning and saw Javi, got to talking and we think it would be a good idea if the wranglers and stormpar to team up for some chases. What does everyone think of that? I'll him no everyone isn't on board."

You kinda tuned out while they were all discussing the partnership. You weren't an official member of the wranglers so even you want the partnership to happen it wasn't up to you, so you sat quietly scrolling through your Instagram.

When the food arrives you place your phone your phone down and dig right in to your pancakes, and they were amazing. So amazing your brother tried to sneak a bite but you just stab him with your fork.

As you are all eating Javi and Scott walk up to the table, and Scotts eyes immediately land on you.

"So Owens your crew on board" Javi ask Tyler.

"Yeah they are as long as they can still film and help after the storm like we always do"

"Yeah that's fine with me what about you Scott?" Javi looks over to Scott who's eyes are still on you. When he doesn't replyJavi nudges his arm. Scott looks away and between your brother and Javi before answering "Yeah that's fine as long as the work isn't affected and we still get the data and you get me in as little as possible"

"Yeah man I film everything so I'll do my best not to get you in to many frames" Boones says to Scott.

Scott nods, and Javi and Tyler set up a time for later that night to sit down and hash everything out. Before they walk away Scott looks over and smiles and bids you a good-bye, you don't see it but you can feel your cheeks heating up as you smile and say bye back.

"Ohhh I think Y/n had a bit of an admirer" Lily says looking at you

"I didn't even know Scott knew how to smile" Dani chimes in.

"That's enough I already told her it's not happening" Tyler looks to his crew then over to you.

"And I already told I'm grown and do as I please big brother" you say to Tyler. "Now are you gonna pay for your little sisters breakfast" You ask with a smile taking a sip of your dr.pepper.

"Yeah yeah I'll pay for ya" Tyler says rolling his eyes waving the waitress over. "You are a pain in my ass you know that right" Tyler says looking over at you. You take a big bite of your pancakes and smile before saying "I know but you love me" and Tyler just rolls his eyes

The waitress comes over and starts asking how the bill is gonna be spilt "I got myself and my sister" Tyler says pointing to you. "Oh sir your sisters meal been taken care" the while table looks around confused before Tyler ask "Who paid for her food?"

"The taller man with the hat that was over here talking to you asked me to put her meal on his bill" Your jaw drops and you know you're blushing hard at this point. Tyler has a look that is a mixture of annoyed and pissed as he hand his card to the waitress to pay for his own food, the rest of the crew are doing their best to hold back their laughs.

Once your outside Tyler goes to his truck and looks at the radar while your eyes scan the parking lot for Scott, you can't believe he paid for your breakfast and you really want to thank him.

"Hey little sister you ok with riding shot gun while wrangling your first tornado, there is a good strong cell over the east come look and put that PhD to work"

You walk over and look at the radar and just as Tyler said the cell to the east is looking very strong and looking to be moving fast, so it shouldn't be more to big of a tornado.

"Hell yeah" you say giving your brother a high five and a big smile.

"OK great, crew get your last bathroom break and drinks we leave in 10" Tyler yells his crew

After using the restroom and paying for yours and Tyler's drinks you walk out of the gas station and run right into someone. You are about to fall when 2 hands catch you. You look up and come face to face with Scotts blues eyes, and you swear you feel your heart stop and the skin on your arms where he is hold you up tingle.

"Oh my gosh Scott I am so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going, are you ok"

"Yeah I'm fine are you ok" Scott says with a smile with his hands on your arms

"I'm fine I promise again im really sorry"

"Please don't apologize no harm done" he says.

You both stand there a few seconds in silence just looking at one another before Scott breaks the silence. "Yall heading to the east"

"Yeah the cell looks promising hopefully everything goes good for my first chase" You look up and Scott can see the hint of fear in your eyes and that makes him worried. After a few seconds you break the silence.

"Oh I wanted to thank you for breakfast that was so sweet of you, but you really didn't have to do that I was going to make my brother pay for it" you laugh and look at the ground. "You're welcome it wasn't a problem at all" Scott says with a smile while chewing his gum. Before you can say anything else you hear your brother yelling your name. You look over and see him standing by his truck with his arms crossed looking very annoyed.

"I guess I better go before he comes over here. I'll see you later?" You ask with a little hope in your voice.

"Yeah I'll see you later, have fun on your first chase, don't get to crazy" Scott says with a smile

"I'll try but you know my brother and his crew" you say with a little laugh as a stray piece hair falls into your face. Before you can move it yourself you feel Scotts hand reach up and brush it behind your ear

"Yeah I do, so do me a favor and be careful sweetheart" Scott says softly with a smile reaching his eyes

"You too" you say with a smile and a face heating up. You walk away still smiling at the nickname and thinking about how he pushed your hair from your face. There was defiantly growing between you and Scott, you could feel it in your soul.

You make it to your brothers truck only to be met with his scowl. "I dont wanna hear it Tyler" you say has you hand your brother his energy drink. Tyler goes to say something but the look on your face makes him decides against it, instead he rolls his eyes and opens the door for you.

As your brother is driving and chatting with Boone in the back seat you are keeping an eye on the radar, and your mind on Scott. You can's stop thinking about the feeling you got when he pushed the stray hair behind your ear, it was a simple yet intimate exchange but it made your heart skip a beat.

You're brought out of your thoughts by your brother saying your name. "Y/n we're about to start the stream you ready for your camera debut" Tyler says looking over to you with a smile. "Ready as I'll ever be" You smile back feeling a bit nerves but excited at the same time. Next thing you know your brother is hitting a button on the camera to start the steam.

"Howdy yall and welcome back. Today is going to be a very special chase because I have joining us is my baby sister Dr. Y/n Owens, yes you heard that right Dr. She just graduated from UT Austin with her PhD in meteorology and is joining us for the season. So everyone say hello to my beautiful baby sister. Tyler turns the camera over to you.

"Hey yall its amazing to be here with my big brother and his crew, I'm so excited for my first up close chase hopefully my brother and Boone dont go wild" You say with a smile and looking at the camera.

Little did you know a certain other chaser tuning in to the stream on his laptop

Scott's POV:

Scotts decides since StormPar is sitting this storm out he'll tune into the Wranglers Stream. He told Javi he was only going to watch it so he can see what they got themselves into by partnering with them, Javi just nodded not believing a thing his friend says just sits down and watches with him

As starts the stream he hears Tyler introduce his sister, he watches as you say hey to the viewers. "Hey yall its amazing to be here with my big brother and his crew, I'm so excited for my first up close chase hopefully my brother and Boone dont to go wild" You say with a smile and looking at the camera. Scott can't help but smile

"Don't go to wild really coming from a former Texas Longhorns cheerleader AND sorority sister who use to live for wild parties" Tyler says with a smirk to his sister

"shut up that was different that was beer pong, keg stands,and cheering on my Longhorns HOOK EM" Y/n says then looks at the camera and hold up the longhorns hand sign. "Not driving into a tornado risking death"

"Man Owens never anything about Y/n being a cheerleader or a sorority girl but both man that's hella hot" Javi says looking at the screen watching the stream, Scott eyes snap to Javi with a look ready to kill. That was his girl(well hes hoping will be his girl) and he didnt like the comment from his partner

They both continue to watch, and Scott has rolled his eyes to many times to count, and lets out an "you have got to be kidding me" as Tyler says something about shooting fireworks into an active tornado. But look in Y/n eyes and the smile on her face makes him smile to himself, she look to be having a great time until her faces changes.

"Damn it the anchors arent deploying" Tyler says

"What the fuck Ty how the hell does that happen fix them now" Scott can hear the fear in your voice

"I'm working on it Y/n, Boone hand me that screw driver i think the trigger is jammed"

"Screw it just hit the gas and drive Tyler i dont feel like dying today"

"Were not gonna die little sis just give me a second"

"Tyler i mean it screw the tornado just dive get away from it"

"Y/n its to close if i drive off that could put us in more danger"

Scott is hearing her argument with her brother, and can see her with your knees to her chest, the truck is shaking and he can see the tornado getting closer. He feels helpless, he just wants to wrap her in his arms and get her out of that truck.

"Got it" he hears Tyler say and Scott lets out a breath he didnt know he was holding.

Y/N POV:

You feel the truck start anchor but you still have your knees to your chest and head down.

"Y/n look up" you hear brother say and you slowly left your head and what you see is completely breath taking. You stare out the window in awe looking at a grey wall twisting around and right in the center you see an opening of blue. You are so fixed on what is going on around you you don't even notice Boone or his camera pointing at you.

Your brother sits watching you with a smile and it reminds him of when you were little and would sit and watch a storm from the porch swing.

When the tornado passes, Tyler opens his door to get out with Boone and his camera hot on his heels. You open your own door and step out watching as the tornado moves away and disappears back into the sky.

"So little sister what did you think of your first time in a tornado"

"That was incredible Ty" you yell and jump on your brothers back laughing, Boone filming you and your brother laughing at how so much alike you bother are.

Tyler turns to the camera, you still on his back "Looks like my baby sister might just use the fancy PhD for storm chasing" he says to the camera. "As long as your truck doesn't malfunction again I just might" you say with a laugh.

Tyler laughs and turns to the camera "Well another chase done join us next time and as always IF YOU FEEL IT" "CHASE IT" you yell before your brother can finish.

[cherry-flavoured-thot]

HII!! Its my first time requesting here!! But i have thought about this idea just a minute ago while daydreaming

So, mc was back in the human world and basically, lucifer or satan was forced to get married to maddi. And when mc came back it was the wedding day, and mc was so surprised, scared, angry qbout the news she heard and she feels betrayed so she immediately went to confront him about it and yeah. Idk how will this go but you can decide the ending!!! Thank you so much and have a good day/night/afternoon when u are reading this

Lucifer would not put such a responsibility on any of his brother's shoulders. While conversations of the Wedding Day come about, and your visage dances around his mind, his decision remains the same. "It's gonna break their heart, you know?" Asmodeus, might not be the person responsible for your upcoming heartbreak, but the thought of your sorrows gut him all the same. "Is there really no way out of this?" There's not. Had there been he would have made it so. But it looks like everyone's hands are tied in the situation.

"What would you have me do?"

"Do what you always do and figure it out!" There was nothing left to figure. The ceremony is in a week. Supposedly, The Great Witch has invited all of the guest, picked the venue, and her dress. He'd already been measured for his suit. You already knew, not that he told any of the others. He had gone to the Human World himself to inform you, it was the right thing to do.

You'd been furious. Tears streamed down your face, as you continued to ask how he could do this? His response of that he had to, did not console you, it instead made you all the more irate, sentencing to leave and wishing him a happy life. His only regret, was that in that moment, he could do nothing to soothe you. That after all the times you'd brought him comfort and joy; he brought you misery without any means of alleviating the pain.

The night before, Lucifer dreams of you. Dreams of your smile, of your humour, of the precious memories that he'll keep with him for centuries down the road. Only to awaken with a start upon watching it crumble. The image of you crying and asking how he could do this to you, haunt him right up to the altar as he stands awaiting for it all to end.

"Should anyone wish to object, speak now or forever hold your peace." It's like something out of those movies you'd used to sit and watch with Asmo, the doors slam open, followed by your angry shouting.

"I object! I seriously object!" Lucifer takes a good minute to get over the shock of seeing you.

"How did you get here?" When a certain white-haired demon, who had been missing for a suspicious amount of time, stumbles in behind you, Lucifer can't even prevent his name from falling out of his mouth. "Mammooooon!" Mammon, just hides himself behind you.

"It doesn't matter. You can't stop this, it's for the betterment of the Devildom after all." Maddi, isn't bothered by your interruption, merely shrugging at your presence.

"What if he's already my husband?" The whole room turns to you, Lucifer quirks a brow, surely you don't think your lie is going to convince an entire room of nobles? Especially while, Diavolo sits in the front row, who would have known straight away if this was the case.

"Excuse me?" Maddi now seems to be very irked.

"You heard me, we're already married!" He's got no clue where your confidence is coming from, or how you even concocted this whole idea, but he wants to laugh. "You'd really break the first ever human-demon marriage for something that's been done time and time again?"

"And why was no one of aware of this?" Lucifer thinks your lie has come to an end, especially from how shrink ever so slightly at her questioning.

"You'll have to forgive me Maddi, but I requested the pair to keep it a secret." Only for Diavolo to chime in. "In fact everyone will have to forgive me, because I can't allow for this ceremony to continue, especially given the importance for the Devildom's future that these two remain together." The room break out into murmuring, and Maddi is outraged.

"Lord Diavolo, what about-"

"Yes that agreement, Barbatos found something most interesting about the information you presented me that I believe requires a private discussion." There's not much time for Maddi to react, while Barbatos comes up beside her dragging her through a portal.

The events that follow are almost a blur, until it's just Lucifer, Mammon, Diavolo and yourself in the room. Diavolo lets out a loud laugh, turning to you with a signature grin. "I must say, you're always full of surprises! I had a feeling you were going to appear, but I didn't think you'd be bold enough to tell an outright lie in a room full of Demon Nobles."

"What can I say it's part of my charm." You match his grin with one of your own, something that amuses the prince even further.

"Indeed." Lucifer chimes in almost immediately, and the two of you exchange a wordless glance. There's several words that linger on both of your tongues, eagerly awaiting to be said. But as you both stare at each other neither of you are entirely sure where to even begin.

"...so you guys aren't actually married, right?" Mammon does not help. Neither does Diavolo as his laughter starts up again.

[thesilverscript]

A Letter To Old Days.

Warnings? None, really! Mostly fluffy, with plenty of longing. Toto Wolff x Reader. One shot.

Words: 1.176.

You remember your 19 years as if it were today, when you used to accompany your younger brother to karting classes. One day, you’re sitting by the edge of the racetrack, impatient, your face resting on the palm of your hand, your eyes wandering bored over the boys zigzagging with their karts. The next, you’re there willingly, observing every movement, waiting with a silent anticipation that you don’t dare confess even to yourself.

At first, the minutes dragged; you counted your brother’s laps on the track as if they were the beats of a lazy clock. But later, each hour seemed to dissolve between muffled laughter and glances that you couldn’t decipher. You vividly remember the days when your mother insisted you go along to the practices, your presence becoming a routine.

You thought you were there out of obligation, a shadow following your younger brother like an obedient guard dog, not realizing that your own freedom was beginning to intertwine with that space.

That’s when your thoughts began to take shape on the pages of your notebook:

So, there is this boy...

Tall, dark-haired, with a smile you couldn’t decipher. He was a bit odd, too quiet for someone who dealt with speed and adrenaline. There was a shyness there, something you couldn’t quite identify at first.

Always observant, always attentive to details that escaped others. Maybe it was this quietness that caught your attention.

Back then, you weren’t good at understanding boys’ behavior. You thought he simply hadn’t noticed you in the same way. Maybe he was just another attentive instructor, too focused on his job to pay attention to the girl who was always hanging around, pretending to be disinterested.

Until your best friend, always more perceptive, said something that caught you by surprise: “You two are flirting. But in the most awkward and innocent way possible.” And suddenly, everything made sense.

The way he hesitated when talking to you, always looking for an excuse to prolong the conversations. The fleeting glances he’d throw your way while adjusting your brother’s helmet, as if he wanted to make sure you were really there. And those smiles... those restrained smiles you thought were just professional courtesy. Casual questions about university exams, musical tastes, anything that could prolong that shared moment.

And, somehow, even without fully understanding it, you started to write more about him in your notebook, as if each word could capture what you felt and the things you didn’t know how to say out loud.

By the time you realized what could have been between you, he had already left the racetrack. So, he ended up being just a few more pages in your notebook, mixed with notes on dreams and random thoughts.

He had dropped out of university, changed jobs, and moved to another country to pursue his dream of becoming a driver. And there, facing the void he had left behind, you found yourself wondering if it had all just been your imagination.

Maybe it was just a game your mind played.

And that was okay if it was. Because, in that moment, you discovered what it was like to fall in love for the first time.

You fell for him.

The first year of university passed in a blur. You threw yourself into studies and social events, not because you were particularly interested, but because it felt like the only way to silence that nagging sense of something missing. You changed majors twice, joined a few clubs, even went to a couple of parties where you pretended to have fun, but nothing really clicked.

Your friends found it odd—how you always seemed a little disconnected, a little too preoccupied. They teased you for being too serious or too grown-up. You’d smile and brush it off, but deep down, you knew they were right. You were trying to outrun something you couldn’t quite name.

Ten years had passed, and your life had taken a direction that the impatient and rebellious nineteen-year-old you once were could never have imagined. Today, you worked in international tax consulting, dealing with numbers, laws, and complex agreements that filled your days and drained your energy. But, even surrounded by folders and endless spreadsheets, motorsport still managed to find its way into your life.

Your brother, now older and even more determined, continued his journey in karting. What began as a youthful passion had turned into a dream he pursued with surprising tenacity. You found yourself frequenting the racetracks again, watching his practice sessions, now as a spectator and supporter, no longer as a reluctant guardian.

Your fiancé — or rather, your ex-fiancé — shared the same passion. He was a fascinating, elegant man, and like so many others, absolutely obsessed with motorsport. You traveled together to watch races, discussed drivers and teams, followed the transfer market with enthusiasm. In the beginning, it seemed perfect. He understood your past, your involvement in the sport through your brother.

Your best friend still kept in touch with him, the boy from your teenage years, and would occasionally update you on his life. This connection, however tenuous, was enough to stir a sense of familiarity, a bittersweet nostalgia that made your ex-fiancé uneasy. He’d raise an eyebrow whenever your friend's updates slipped into conversation, sensing a thread that seemed to pull you back to a past he couldn’t reach.

It wasn’t long before that subtle tension unraveled the engagement. You found yourself standing alone in a bridal boutique in Paris—Rosa Clará, one of those elegant places with gilded mirrors and delicate lace draped over every surface—returning the wedding dress you had once chosen with such certainty. There was an odd comfort in the transaction, as if letting go of the dress was the final step in freeing yourself from a future that no longer felt like your own.

As you handed the dress back, the shop assistant gave you a sympathetic smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. You wondered briefly if she knew the story behind every gown that was returned. The dress, so carefully chosen, now felt like a stranger in your hands—something beautiful and full of promise, yet utterly disconnected from the woman you were now.

When you realized it, you had taken a few days off work and flown back to Styria. You were sitting in Café Strauss, waiting for your friend, your eyes drifting to the door every few minutes. You had just ordered a latte and a slice of sachertorte, letting the steam from your cup calm your nerves, when someone gently asked if they could join you.

“Can I join you?” The voice was tentative, as if testing the waters.

You looked up, expecting your friend, but instead, there he was. The same intense, unwavering gaze, with a more confident smile, yet still that familiar hint of shyness.

“Oh…” You paused, a smile tugging at your lips as you gestured to the chair. “Hi, Toto.” And in that moment, you knew—your friend wasn’t going to show up anytime soon.

And you are still falling.

Inspired by this quote: not very attractive with the girls. Here: Speed Dating with Toto, Lewis, and Valtteri – Part 2! 👏 …as well as this photo: https://www.instagram.com/p/DACLlH-BCZw/

[tgrailwar-zero]

(despairingly) ... lack of funds...

... it's not even like we're overly wasteful... haven't blown money on luxuries at all... it'd be so nice... uff... seriously, why is it so hard to settle our cash...

NERO: "Well, you are right that the Bout is rather promising in terms of funds."

MUSASHI: "Speaking of the Bout, my match is coming up. We've gotta go-- you too, managers! Let's get moving!"

Heading to the arena, you found yourself in the locker rooms, speaking with JAGUAR MAN.

JAGUAR MAN: "Normally, it'd just be our lovely Samurai running solo... However, since she's a Servant and Moby Dick is considered a 'final boss-tier enemy', I figured you could come along. If you want to keep things legit, you can just sit back and watch instead of helping."

It seemed like you were allowed to come and help this time around.

Really. With JAGUAR MAN running things, the rules were more akin to 'suggestions', weren't they?

JAGUAR MAN: "Anyways, don't die! You acted as a real promising heel during the match with the Fairy Guy, so I'd like to see more of you! Bye!"

Wasn't killing banned? Did the Moby Dick program understand that?

Before you could ask any other questions- you were suddenly warped into the 'battle zone' along with MUSASHI. You were falling from quite the distance, the samurai flipping in the air and swooping towards you, clutching you in her arms and holding you to her chest as she touched down onto the ground, her boots skidding against rock and gravel.

She put you down, looking around. You saw a drab-looking coastline, surrounded by dark waters and heavy cloud cover.

MUSASHI: "...Phew... let's do this, Managers!"

It was quiet. You heard the sound of the waves crashing, before a transmission echoed over the zone you had been transported to.

--

JAGUAR MAN: "Oh man, I know you've all been waiting for this! Two prime fighters! Moby Dick, our nigh-undefeatable oceanic behemoth! The Null Zero Samurai, our cold-blooded, beautiful rookie! And we have a rare guest, one of the few people who's bested Moby Dick- the mighty Jishnu has suddenly found free time during the Main Bout matches, so he's here to help with commentary!"

DURYODHANA: "Ha ha ha. Would you like to keep pouring salt on the wound, or can we get started?"

DURYODHANA: "Anyways, this is a rather momentous occasion. There aren't many fighters that I think will be able to even last 10 seconds against Moby Dick, but I have a feeling that we're seeing a fighter that will make it to the rare echelons of 'people who aren't obliterated instantly'."

JAGUAR MAN: "While Father Kotomine will be covering Adamant and the Man-Slayer, and Miss Cat will be guest-commentating on the Cuauhtli and Strong-Mask Bout, we'll be doing double-duty covering the-- huh? Hang on, the Wandering Blade just lost. That fast? Really? I guess we're just covering Moby Dick and the Samurai, then! Jishnu, do you have any last minute advice?"

DURYODHANA: "Not just anyone can fight Moby Dick. It takes a solid awareness of your surroundings, and ingenuity. Hardly anything ever works twice against that thing. But, the goal is simple-- either knock it out for 10 seconds, or get it to fully retreat. In other words, the resourceful tend to have better chances."

JAGAUR MAN: "And with that, fine people of the Solar Cell-- let's have ourselves a Bout!"

--

Once it ended, you found yourself back in the eerie atmosphere of the beach, the only noise coming from the waves lapping against the shore.

Off in the distance, you heard the sound of a whale bellowing. No sights of anything, however.

The first thing that caught your eye was a small dock, and a person standing on a large ship. That was probably used in the fight against MOBY DICK, to give people a nautical advantage.

The first thing MUSASHI saw was herself in the water's reflection.

MUSASHI: "Hel~lo there..."

...Right. The charm effect on the Mystic Code. She stood, looking at her reflection in the ocean water before a wave broke it up, MUSASHI blinking a few times before looking around.

MUSASHI: "Oh, sweet! A ship!"

SABER beamed, rushing over.

MUSASHI: "Yoo-hoo! Hi there, beautiful lady standing next to a beautiful ship!"

The person on the ship looked down, leaning over the railing with a disarmingly friendly smile.

PRIVATEER: "Hahaha, what an introduction! You can just call me the 'Privateer'. I was summoned for a more flashy purpose, but this and that happened, so I'm working freelance. Anyways-- 1500 PPT, and you have a boat set and ready to sail against Moby Dick!"

Oh, alright. That made sen--

--Huh?

Wait...

What?

1500 PPT?

MUSASHI: "Wait, you're charging us? Don't you work for the Bout? I thought it'd be free!"

PRIVATEER: "My contract with the Jaguar just requires me to have a boat available for any participating fighters. Which I do. There's a free one down there. Look."

She pointed at a run-down, wooden dinghy next to the ship. It looked… stable. In the sense that it could float. And it didn't really seem to be doing that very well either.

Did JAGUAR MAN know about this?

...Actually, knowing her, she probably approved it.

PRIVATEER: "But… A good boat, and maybe some extra help? That costs money. It's not like my price is steep, it's only 10% of the prize pot… and if you can beat Moby Dick, don't you have a solid chance at being the champ and winning all that cash anyways? Besides, I'm sure you've heard that Moby Dick is a 'final-boss tier' Enemy Program. You'll need everything you can get. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. So, whad'dya say?"

…Did you somehow find a person more shrewd (greedy) than PRETENDER? Still… it wasn't like you had to use it. It was a luxury…

…A luxury, that's all it was…

...You didn't NEED to have a good ship in order to take down Moby Dick, right?

[screampied]

࣪₊ 𐙚 YOU SAY IT'S BIG BUT U TAKE IT ?! ★

gojo, nanami, toji, sukuna, geto. you come home struck by a love curse and need their help on "recovering" from the after effects. (anon req)

𐚁̸ wc. 3.8k

𐚁̸ warnings. fem! reader, feral reader, love pollen/curse, unprotected, sukuna has two dicks, dirty talk, p in v, oral (f + m receiving), squırting, biting, spanks, dumbification, overstim, brēeding, premature ejaculatıon, mdni.

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN

“wha— you’re clingier than usual,” the curse grumbles as you burst through the door. you’re panting steadily. he was almost shirtless with his usual kimono that’s exposing his abs. rickety arms of yours wrap around his waist before you drop right down onto your knees. with a raised eyebrow, he huffs. “eh. should i even ask.”

“no,” you reply within a second. your voice inwas nothing but a pure trembly tune. your body . . it felt hot all over, some stupid pollen or whatever it was was responsible for your feral state. you were even smelling the definition of the word too. you were grateful he didn’t ask, alas instead—he crosses all of his arms before glancing down at you. pawing at his boxers to fall down, it comes down slowly. the wait was killing you as you glance at his huge hardened bulge preparing to be exposed. oh, you’re already drooling. you needed sukuna so bad, your thighs were already quaking. the air surrounding you both suddenly felt scorching and the minuscule goosebumps that reside amongst your skin felt even hotter. “i- i need a taste, ‘kuna. please.”

he hums in amusement. “oh? don’t let me stop you then, horny girl,” and an oversized hand grips onto the crown of your head. with a nod, he views as your eyes light up at the now hefty sight of his two flashy dicks. with a groan—he shudders once he gapes at your tongue and how it licks against the one near the front. “mhm, you little . . minx. good, take it then. enjoy your precious meal.”

sukuna’s in love with your mouth—with your tongue, you’re so sloppy and you just can’t help it.

running your sweet tongue along both areas of his dicks—every part, the base, the length, and even the sensitive frenulum—he groans loudly. it’s an almost roar that echoes through his chambers. both of his dicks which were visibly stacked amongst each other. one was in front while the other was in back. each were the same amounts of thick and broad. thickset and fucking heavy, you bob your head down against the first one until he shoots raw into your mouth within just a few minutes. “fuck, easy, e-easy,” he stammers, feeling you snake a hand against his neglected cock to stroke it, fondling with his heavyset balls.

hearing sukuna stutter does something to you. you couldn’t exactly describe it, but you wanted to hear more of it. his head tilts back slightly as his lips purse, preparing to click his tongue. “ugh, can’t handle you when you suck that good,” and he grabs you by the hair, making you return his lascivious gaze. “look at you. jus’ a cock drunken mess. got m-me,” and he deeply exhales. sukuna chokes on his own words, barely even able to finish his sentence.

you took so much out of him in such little time. truth be told, maybe this love curse whatever it was, was a good thing. spit races down both sides of your mouth as you happily keep his shaft warm into your tight throat. his cum was a lot, a bittery taste of his own lingers on your tongue before he cock taps against the roof of your mouth. if it wasn’t for you doing a simple trick with your fingers, you’d have gag. you wanted more, lathering your tongue against his tip with no shame—you then reach a hand down to play with your pulsing clit.

“mphm.” you mumble inaudibly, feeling him start to push your head further down. a chaffing smile goes against your mouth and he scoffs. you’re making him feel things. things he didn’t even know he could feel. sukuna’s cold heart significantly flutters at the sight of you. it flutters simply at how good you make him feel. it’s a feeling he didn’t want to stop. at least not yet.

“god, ‘m gonna cum again,” he inhales before exhaling lowly. as he does so, his chest collapses back in from his sigh before he’s now facefucking you. the curse’s thigh taps and clenches, muscles creating a flexion within the nerves stored inside before he sees you drooling for more. as the bobbing of your head’s tempo increases, he groans before making you stare dead into his eyes with a simple grip. “nasty girl. comin’ home just to slobber on my dick, look at that f-face, fuuuuck,” and the moment you end up making him cum for about the umpteenth time of the night, he’s embarrassed. face flushed, you’re switching between his dicks to give them both equal amounts of love before he moves you off from sucking him. “brat,” he glares, grabbing your chin as a few sloshing spurts of cum pour down your chin. sukuna then leans in to kiss you, his tongue tweaks against your lips and he tastes own arousal with no shame at all. shame never exists for a man like him—a cursed being like him. you moan, feeling a fang of his gently bite into your bottom lip before he pulls away. in a low, shaky tone, he grumbles. “wipe that smile off your face, woman. this isn’t o-over.”

☆ NANAMI KENTO

“my love?” nanami hoarsely pulls down the newspaper he was reading from his face. the glimmer of the g-shock he wore that wraps around his wrist ricochets against the chandelier hanging above the two of you. eyeing you closely, he leans back against his wooden rocking chair. “how was work? your boss take it easy on you today?”

“kento,” you breathe, getting right on his lap. you’re met with those same gentle fawn irises that’s captured your heart within an instant. a hand of his gently strokes against your waist before he watches you speak in such a needy way. “touch me— please, i want you so bad.”

nanami chortles lowly. “aw, i want you too honey.”

“no . . like, i want you,” and he sees how you’re glancing back at him with feral, blown pupils. nanami could tell how needy you were just from your tone and body language alone. he could never say no to you, his beloved wife. nanami knew you, and most importantly, he knew every inch of your body like the back of his hand . .

the moment he’s got you laid on your back, everything’s lost. it’s as if time comes to an abrupt stop. the moment you feel his thick cock ease it’s way into your cunt, you immensely swallow him whole. “so warm ‘n snug,” he whispers, bringing his lips toward your face to pepper various kisses against your skin. he’s so gentle with you, he always was. he cups your chin before giving you a deep kiss to distract you from the brief tang of you clamping onto him. “how . . do you feel? is this okay—?”

his low voice was so smooth—leisurely, he’s rocking his hips against you before he playfully nibbles near your chin. a hand of his intertwined with your fingers as he waits for your sweet response. “i- i feel hot,” you moan, throwing your arms around him. “more please, ‘ken. makes me throb when you touch me.”

nanami chuckles, a quick piston of his hips and your legs wrap around his slim waist. his cologne swarms around your nostrils before you whine again. you sound so pretty—melodious, each moan that escapes out of you sounds like a harmony within each lewdly musical moment that passes. “so the curse makes you more sensitive for me?” he coos against your neck, another free hand of his rubbing against your tummy. you’re just laid back, taking every appetizing inch of him and your eyes roll and roll to the very backs of your cranium. “my sweet girl,” and his voice—you could get off to it, you were already profusely pulsing from his deeply through strokes regardless. “i’ll touch every inch of this perfect body if it ‘cures’ you, mhm.”

his touch makes you more sensitive though. nanami was sensual, taking his time with you. his pace was not to fast or too slow. just right . .

his fat cock slowly jackhammers itself into you, irregular breaths sounding more and more jagged. as he’s talking you through it against the shell of your ear, you dig your fingertips into his back. as you run a hand down, you feel a tiny mole print against his skin. “kento, r- right there, riiiight there,” and you’re keeping the entirety of his waist hostage with your ankles. “cum in me, your cum’s gonna save me i think . . s-so, please.”

“you say such silly things sometimes, my sweet,” he whispers against your neck, giving it a long suck. you moan from his tongue flicking against the new mark he created before he’s quickening his hips just a tad bit. the bed creaks and sings, it’s as if it’s making a new mixtape with its noises. “but alright, if my baby wants me to fill her up so she can feel better, i’ll do that,” and before he shoots into you—he grabs your chin. “ah, but look at me though,” and he’s panting heavily, sepia-colored strands sticking against the sheet of sweat that goes against his forehead. “look at me. look into my eyes, wifey,” and he sneaks a kiss onto your trembling lips. thrusting into you at brimming speed, he groans. “atta girl, there she is,” he purrs at you, a thumb brushing against your quivering bottom lip. he looked at you as if he loved you, nanami was sweet but a secret filthy man at heart. only for you though. “wanna see that pretty face. think ‘m gonna give you a baby or two while ‘m at it, my love. f-fuck.”

☆ GOJO SATORU

“girl—could be a little nicer y’know,” gojo grumbles as you lightly flick him against his back onto the plump mattress. you were always no match for his unprovoked sass. with a teasing pout, he’s staring right back up at you as you straddle his chin. grabbing a fistful of his hair, you inch your pooling warm entrance against his face. “how do you even get struck by a ‘love’ curse anyway? thought that only happens in fan fiction, heh.”

“just shut up,” you moan, hovering over your boyfriend’s face. he was so pretty — just gawking at him alone had you going more feral. gojo’s eyes, they were always so ethereal looking. a bright blueish cerulean—almost a viridescent green with how it reflects against the bedroom light. “f-fuck, i want you to taste it so bad, ‘toru. want you.”

with an impish smile, he slides the side of your panties aside. “soooo, what are ya waitin’ for? let me eat this ‘curse’ out of you, angel.”

and the moment you plant your sopping wet cunt against his face, he’s ultimately determined to do so. gojo was a messy eater. it was really no denying it. you’re swiping your slick heat against his nose like a credit card and he eats it up everytime. drool pours from the corners of his mouth as he’s gripping your thighs with both hands. doughy padded thumbs of his pierce into your skin as you’re rutting against his face in rapturing pleasure. “like that baby, f-fuck.”

“go on—praise me some more,” he giggles, warm breath fanning against your entrance. your stomach caves and seizes in and out as you’re still moving all around. it doesn’t take long before your legs start to quaver. “call me a good boy, yeah.”

as much as you wanted to eye roll in the most dramatic way, you couldn’t.

you’ve got a firm grip into his white, snowy strands before giving it a solid yank. “g- good boy, ‘s good for me, ‘toru. think your tongue is working,” and your voice was so soft, its delivery was almost a mere whisper. gojo’s sucking against your clit, casually making out with it in such a sloppy way that’s he’s imitating a french kiss. you continuously pulse into his mouth, feeling him breath through his nose before he spanks your sensitive entrance. as he does such a thing, a splash of your own arousal goes onto his face. teasingly, he sticks out his tongue to lick it clean. “f-fuck.” you whine, and he starts to feel himself get hard. not from you calling him a good boy, but the view itself.

the view of you, riding his face, straddling him in such a sexy way makes him feel a raging hard on in his boxers.

oh, the way you were maintaining such eye contact.

so sensual, you use his face for your own pleasure, hearing your heartbeat arise at a more quick through your ears. the sharp edges of gojo’s teeth nibble playfully against your thighs before you whimper once he prods a lengthy finger inside. he’s located your g-spot just like that, immediately moaning aloud before his digit curls up into your gummy walls. “fuck, you’re so hot when you pull my hair, ‘s no fair,” and as you’re whimpering loudly, chewing on the skin of your arm—you end up finishing after a while.

the moment you do, you end up squirting a bit. it comes out in a tiny trickle—gojo’s face lights up as you’re struggling to keep your thighs open for him but he spreads them further apart for you anyway. “shit,” he exhales with a cunning grin, that smug expression you oh so desperately wanted to wipe off. “i didn’t know my girl was a squirter. maybe you should get struck by that love curse again,” and he licks against your pussy for a final time before spanking your folds. “let’s do that again. wanna get you real soaked tonight. i always like my girls messy.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

“no way you woke me up just so i could fuck you.” toji deadpans, bringing a hand towards the hair that sticks against his chest, scratching it for four long seconds. two arched brows of his curl into a furrow before he grunts. “i was havin’ a good ass dream too.”

“toji i’m gonna die,” you protest, tugging at his boxers. “i searched up the symptoms a- and it said that if i don’t do anything um— sexual related, ‘m gonna die within four hours.”

“oh boo,” he rolls his eyes, and you moan once you feel the roughness of his palm squeeze against your ass. toji pulls you close to him, so close that you could feel the heat of his body radiate against your own. so close that you could smell his natural manly scent. the strong manly musk, his scent alone had you throbbing right inside of your laced little panties. in a groggy voice, toji leans in to suck against your neck, earning out a mewling whimper from you. “fine, but don’t be surprised if i don’t let ya cum. my dream was really fuckin’ good.”

knowing toji—he was probably dreaming about being a millionaire, but anyway . .

he happily helps with your little issue by fucking you thoroughly into the sheets. harp hips of his penetrate into you again and again. you whine, bratty cacophonous whimpers spew out of your lips as you cling onto the milky, pale sheets. it’s probably been hours, the entire room has a candied aroma of pure desire and intimacy. toji groans as your cunt clamps against him tightly. two scarred hands of grab ahold of your waist before pressing it deeper against him. “mhm, ‘s it workin’ baby? needed a good fuck, baby?”

“y- yes,” you moan, strands of hair almost blinding your eyesight by how it continues to get in your face from the quick paced movement. skin against skin—skin tight. everything felt heavenly. toji’s husky pitched groans only makes you throb even more before he leans right up closer against your ass. “harder, fuck me, ‘toji. pleaseplease. make me cum.”

with his own heavy huffs of breath escaping, he gets all the way up close before raising a foot to press down against your head.

a shrieking gasp comes out of you at the angle. he’s buried so deep now that your pussy stings and smacks from his sack. his hefty sack that hangs. kissing his teeth, toji rolls his eyes back from how good you squeeze around him before groaning once more. “goddamn, y’er a little slut. wakin’ me up for dick, ‘oughta edge the shit out of ya,” and he grabs a nice amount of your hair, making you raise up. the soft, delicate wool of his sock still glides against your skin and you moan from his rude, overzealous tempo. “yeah? should the baby girl cum, or nah. personally, i‘d say no. you were bein’ a brat. 'love curse' my ass.”

you try to sit up but he only pushes you back down, your face smushed against your fluffed out pillow.

“nuh uh, sit the fuck back down,” he snarls, swatting a soft palm against your ass. you’re so close—you moan again as he deepens his hits. his rhythm that was once so decent was now sloppy and merciless. toji’s fat mushroom tip thwacks and thwacks against your clit so much that you could feel it’s delicious curve. it’s a tickling sensation if anything—but the last thing you were doing was laughing. as he tightens his grip a bit, resuming to rock his hips into you, he purrs against your ear in a throaty chuckle. “heh, oh so you can’t speak now? thought ya wanted me to go harder?”

“i- i do,” you try to explain, but it only forms into a sweet meaningless babble. “fuuuuck, ‘s good but take your foot off me, toji. your sock is um.. wet.”

“your sock is um wet,” he mocks you before lowering his foot. you cringe as he pitches his voice—you don’t even sound like that. as he’s still having you arched over, watching as you then hide your face into the crook of your elbow. with a final smack against your ass, he pulls out before letting off an offended, tch. “ungrateful ass.”

☆ GETO SUGURU

“rough day?” geto slyly smiles, watching you struggle to walk into his room. he locks his phone to get a good look at you. you’re heaving insane amounts of breaths, pant after pant squeezing out of your full lungs as if you’d just got down with a marathon. “aw, let me guess. that love curse again? baby, you really gotta stop gettin’ yourself in these positions. it’s silly.”

“suguru,” you whine, collapsing right into his lap. the way you flop onto him was so cute—you’re met with a smug grin and dark, inky eyes that’s taking in all of your features. always so pretty. he smells so good, it’s driving you crazy. “wanna ride you.”

“you always ride me,” he strokes your chin, staring into your eyes lovingly. his hair was pinned into a unkempt yet attractive ponytail. geto gingerly wraps a hand around your throat before whispering against your lips. “so it is that lust curse again, isn’t it? careful. startin’ to think you’re doing this on purpose just to ride me, pretty girl.”

it works every time though—because within minutes later, you’re riding geto on the plump sofa. he was trying to multitask, trying to send an important email but your hips always snapped him back to reality. eventually, his phone slips out of his hand. geto groans at the way your rhythm’s got him in such a chokehold. you’re unhinged, playing with your tits right in front of him that he can’t help but feel against your soft mounds himself.

“s-shit,” he hisses, your body forever an image embedded in his mind that he couldn’t erase. your pussy squelches against his cock and you feel him reach such deep angles all at once. his girth was enough to make your mouth salivate with slippery saliva. mouthwatering, the upward curve of geto’s dick has you going stupid, you’re whining constantly before you lightly shove him back against the cushioned furniture. “slow down, you’re gonna make me c-cum quick, baby, goddamn.”

perhaps your hips alone were the enemy all along, you’re barely giving him a chance to breathe and it turns him onever more. how feral you were—he could see how blown and needy your pupils were. as you wrap your arms around him, still jerking your hips forward, you pull him into a deep, passionate kiss. geto groans right into your mouth, it’s guttural. playfully, you twirl a finger around his hair as you’re fucking him. geto’s hand placement was against your hips, long pretty lashes fluttering every few seconds before he gasps. “baby,” he huffs, a slippery strand of spit leaving your lips as he tugs away. with half-lidded eyes and a flushed face, he moans again, yet this time it’s louder, a bit more pitchy. “i’m gonna c- cum, shit your hips is gonna kill me.“

“don’t waste it p- please,” you plead into his ear, the soft breaths of your voice that exit from your throat makes his dick twitch inside you. you’re still grinding against him, the tempo was so speedy that it gives geto whiplash. he was truly witnessing his life flash before his eyes—all thanks to your precious pussy, featuring your crazed hips. he hardly doesn’t know where to roam his hands—but they remain glued to your waist, attempting to guide you closer. “inside, sugu. spill it ‘n me, make a mess.”

groaning—his head tosses itself back in rapture as he falls into his lewd, anticipated embrace. he’s feeling hot and warm just like you. the warmth your pussy provided him makes him bite his lip.

“fuck, fuck, f-fuuuuck,” he swears once you suddenly pick your hips back up. after a few seconds once you gradually slow down—he’s shooting a warm load of cum into you. so gooey, it fills you to the brim and you slow down finally, still swaying against him to make sure it’s fully plugged full. it pours into you all at once, a whopping amount of seed that’s so much that it oozes between the crevices of your thighs. you rode geto so good that he doesn’t even notice the sofa had ended up collapsing. the sound was short and concise—he’s moaning once you wrap a hand around his throat, feeling the vibrations of his grunts go against your fingertips. “phew,” he swallows, still dumping a good amount of ropy amounts inside before he goes limp against the couch. geto still has your hips in place before he’s gasping for short collected breaths. with glossy eyes, he notices your needy smug grin, not showing one ounce of fatigue. “again, huh? fuck, let me catch my breath first baby, you’re fuckin’ dangerous.”