#think it might be smth with that since last time when it was like this when my arms were down it felt like smth was in the way like so maybe

[donaviolet]

Friendship is the most special thing in the world because no award could be give me bigger happiness than jumping around in my room and smiling because my pookie asked me if I wanted to match pfps

[dhmis-autism]

hi hello here’s a horrid concept for you all that has been haunting me for weeks. the idea of this as a fluffybird song ok goodnight

[logs out immidiately]

[maburp]

I’m in my early 20s so sometimes I forget I don’t live in a vacuum. If I fail here, if I pause here, there is so shame or rush, there are people around me that can help break my fall and I’m so lucky for that. My only job is to explore and figure out what will leave me with a fulfilling life and how my friends and family fit into that.

[spideyhexx]

anon thank you for what you sent🫶

[itneverendshere]

hi again! so I've been meaning to send a request, but before i go about it I wish to say it's completely okay if you're not inspired by this, or if you simply don't want to write it, i would hate myself if I made you overwhelmed or smth. love you anyways 💕 so for the request: reader who's autistic. she's not very talkative nor socially active, never had a boyfriend, has one or two friends, yet somehow rafe notices her and finds her endearing. she's okay being herself with her friends, like she's funny, kind and passionate about her interests (like geek stuff, fantasy books, animals and such). she has zero flirting experience and is always dismissive towards rafe bc she doesn't think someone could like her romantically, and she's always suspicious of people bc they've wronged her in the past (in my experience as an autistic person i tend to believe everything ppl say and am kinda naive, so ppl played me or said unrealistic things and I believed them, which then is a reason for laughter, now I'm always suspicious to ppl's intentions). I'm giving you creative freedom with this, just wanted an autistic reader for once :) if you feel like writing it but need to know more abt autism, you can just post question and I'll answer in your asks, if that's okay. Just a reminder again before I go: feel free to decline this request, I know it might not be something cool to write and that's okay ☺️ love you lots, thank you for your time!

i tried my best, hope you like it 🫶🏼 and if you don't lmk so i can do better!! this was really fun since it's a compeltely new topic of inspiration. kinda left an "open" ending bc i couldn't make my mind up lmao. thank you for the resquest and sorry it took me a while to finally do it 🫂

got dreams but i can't make myself believe them - r.c

paring: rafe x autistic!reader word count: 6.9k

The party was a mistake. You knew it the moment you walked in, the thumping music and crush of people making your skin crawl. Your friends had been relentless, insisting that you needed to “get out more” and “live a little,” despite your repeated attempts to explain that “getting out” meant something different to you.

But somehow, you’d caved, and now you were standing awkwardly in the corner of a stranger’s living room, clutching your book like it was a life vest. You needed to stop letting them drag you everywhere.

It was the typical college party scene, at least the one's you'd heard or read about before. Red solo cups everywhere, groups of people huddled on couches or pressed together on the so called dance floor, and a few already-drunk guys yelling loudly in the kitchen.

This was supposed to be fun?

“Just stay for an hour,” they said. “If it’s really that bad, you can leave.”

Right. Except an hour felt like an eternity when you were trapped in a sensory nightmare. You took a deep breath, scanning the crowded room. There were people everywhere—laughing, dancing, chattering loudly in clumps—and the noise was a constant, overwhelming buzz in your ears.

This was definitely a mistake.

So, you did what you always did in these situations: you found a place to hide. After walking through the drunk college students, you eventually ended up on quiet nook near the back of the house. It was a small room, probably some sort of den or study. Blessedly, it was empty. With a sigh of relief, you settled into an oversized armchair, opened your book, and let the world outside your pages melt away.

Time slipped by as you read, the noise of the party changing into a distant hum. You were so engrossed that you didn’t even notice when someone stumbled into the room until a loud crash jolted you out of your fictional word. He nearly tripped over his own feet, catching himself at the last second with a slurred, “Shit.”

You looked up to find a guy standing unsteadily in the doorway, blinking blearily at you. He was tall, with tousled hair and a loose, easy grin that spoke of far too many drinks. His eyes were a striking blue even in the low light, and it took you a second to place him.

Rafe Cameron.

Oh, God. You knew him—well, of him, at least. He was in your sociology class, always sitting a few rows behind you with his gaggle of equally charming friends. He’d never spoken to you before, though, and you’d never had a reason to pay him much attention.

Until now.

Then his face split into a lazy grin, and he swaggered—no, stumbled—into the room, somehow managing to make even that look effortless.

“Heyyy,” he drawled, leaning heavily against the arm of the chair across from you. “It’s… it’s you.”

You blinked at him. “Me?”

“Yeah,” he slurred, squinting like he was trying to see you clearly. “T-The girl from my class. The quiet one.”

Your stomach did a weird flip, part confusion, part disbelief. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded sagely, as if you’d just confirmed some great truth. “You’re the uh, the smart one. With the books.” He gestured vaguely at the one in your hands. “Always sittin’ up front, all… all cute n'shit.”

Your cheeks burned. Was he seriously calling you cute? No. He was drunk—really drunk. He probably didn’t even know what he was saying.

“Do you need help?” you asked cautiously. “You look—”

“I’m fine,” he cut you off, straightening up as if to prove it, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the way he swayed on his feet. “Needed to get away from those idiots out there. Too many people.”

You almost laughed. Rafe Cameron, overwhelmed by people? The guy who was always surrounded by friends, girls practically draped over him like accessories? But he looked sincere—well, as sincere as a drunk person could look.

“Why don’t you sit down?” you suggested, gesturing to the empty chair. “You, um, might fall over if you don’t.”

“Pfft, I’m not gonna—” He paused mid-sentence, wobbling precariously. Then, as if he’d just made the smartest decision of his life, he plopped down in the chair, sprawling out like he owned the place.

“See? Told ya m'fine,” he said, flashing you a lopsided grin.

You couldn’t help but snort. “Right.”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his gaze roaming over your face “What’re you doin’ here?” he asked abruptly.

You glanced at your book, then back at him. "Reading?”

“No, I mean… here,” he insisted, gesturing vaguely around the room. “At this shitty party.”

You shrugged, feeling awkward. “My friends dragged me. I didn’t really want to come.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and for a moment, he looked almost sober. “Yeah, same.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He smirked, a flash of the cocky, arrogant guy you’d seen in class. “Yeah, well… they’re fucking assholes, but they’re my assholes, y'know?”

You didn’t, but you nodded anyway. “Sure.”

“So, what’s that book about?”

You hesitated. “Um… it’s a fantasy novel.”

“Fantasy, huh?” He tilted his head, eyeing the cover. “Like wizards and dragons n'shit?”

“Sort of,” you admitted. “It’s about a girl who finds out she has magic and goes on a quest to—”

“Save the world?” he finished with a mock-solemn expression.

“...Yeah,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“Bet it is,” he murmured, his gaze still fixed on you. “You’re really into that stuff, huh?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged, his smirk softening into something that almost looked like genuine interest. “You looked happy, talkin’ about it.”

Your heart did another weird little flip, and you frowned, pushing the feeling down. He was drunk. This didn’t mean anything. He probably wouldn’t even remember it in the morning.

But then, his eyes drifted shut, his head lolling back against the chair. Within seconds, he was snoring. You sat there, stunned.

What the hell had just happened?

Three days later, you were sitting in your usual spot in the lecture hall, flipping through your notes. Class was about to start, and the room was filling up with the usual pre-lecture chatter. You were just getting settled when someone slid into the seat beside you.

You glanced up, expecting one of your friends. But it wasn’t.

It was Rafe.

“Hey, friend,” he said casually, like you hadn’t left him passed out at a party a few nights ago.

You stared at him, completely disoriented. “Hi?”

He grinned, leaning back in his chair like this was completely normal. “Didn’t think I’d forget about you, huh?”

Your eyes narrowed. “I… yeah, actually.”

Rafe’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, “See, that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he murmured. “I remember everything.”

Did he just give you a nickname?

Your stomach dropped. “What?”

“Yeah.” He crossed his arms, looking entirely too smug. “You, sitting there all cute with your book, talking about magic and shit. Thought I was too drunk to remember, huh?”

“I—” You stared at him, completely off balance. “Why are you here?”

“Because I want to be,” he said simply. “Got a problem with that?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “No?”

“Good.” He flashed you a grin, all cocky charm. “So, you gonna tell me more about that book, or what?”

You gaped at him. “You actually want to hear about it?”

“Why not?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “It made you smile.”

And for some reason, that simple statement knocked the breath out of you.

“Okay,” you said, still unsure if this was some kind of elaborate prank.

But Rafe just leaned back in his seat, eyes fixed on you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I think I’ll stick around.”

The next few classes were…weird, to say the least. Ever since Rafe decided you were his new "friend," he’d taken to sitting beside you every lecture, plopping down in the empty seat as if he’d been there all along. It was confusing. Most of the time, he’d breeze in at the last possible minute, sauntering up to your row without so much as a greeting and settling into the chair with that infuriatingly self-assured smirk.

You were already seated, your notebook open and your pen poised to start taking notes when he dropped into the seat beside you with his usual nonchalance. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, casting you a sidelong look as if daring you to acknowledge him first.

“Hi,” you said quietly, eyes flicking back to the front of the room.

“Hey, princess,” he replied, voice low and teasing.

You kept your gaze firmly on your notebook. You’d quickly learned that the best way to deal with him was to pretend his presence didn’t affect you—no matter how much his proximity messed with you.

He’d spent the last three classes nudging your foot under the desk, passing snide comments under his breath, or leaning over just close enough to murmur sarcastic observations about whatever the professor was droning on about. And today was no different.

The lecture started, Professor Callahan launching into her usual detailed overview of sociological theory. You tried to focus, pen flying across your notebook as you jotted down her points.

“Is she always this boring?” he whispered, leaning in slightly so his arm brushed against yours.

You stiffened, eyes fixed on your notes. “If you listened, it wouldn’t be so boring.”

He snorted. “Yeah, right. Like I’m gonna waste my time listening to her go on about… what is it today? Class structure?”

“Yes,” you hissed, refusing to look at him. “And if you don’t stop talking, I’m going to—”

“You’re going to what?” he challenged, his grin audible in his voice.

You snapped your mouth shut, trying to ignore the way his leg brushed against yours under the desk. He was doing it on purpose—nudging your knee every so often, shifting just a little closer until the faint scent of his cologne surrounded you. It was infuriating. And yet, when you glanced sideways at him, he was looking at you with that maddening, lazy grin that made your heart stutter.

“Just pay attention,” you mumbled, cheeks warm.

“Why would I do that when I have such a pretty view right here?”

Your head whipped around, eyes wide. “What?”

But Rafe just smirked, his gaze drifting lazily up and down your face before flicking back to the front of the room as if he hadn’t just made your brain short-circuit. 

“Relax, princess. Just messin' with you.”

You swallowed, trying to refocus on the lecture. His attention was like a physical thing—intense and all-consuming. It made you uneasy. 

Determined not to give him the satisfaction, you forced yourself to look at the professor, tuning out the heat of Rafe’s gaze. Professor Callahan was in the middle of explaining something about social hierarchies when she suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

“Mr. Cameron.”

The entire class fell silent.

You looked up, eyes widening in surprise as Professor Callahan fixed Rafe with a stern look. “I’m aware that I’m not as pretty as your classmate,” she said dryly, gesturing toward you, “but I would appreciate it if you could pay attention for at least ten minutes.”

A ripple of snickers spread through the room, and your cheeks flamed scarlet. Rafe, however, didn’t even blink, he was completely unruffled and offered the professor a lazy, arrogant smile. “Sorry, Professor. Just got a little distracted.”

Your stomach dropped. He was staring at you, unabashedly.

The professor raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure.” Her tone was dry, unimpressed. “Would you mind keeping your distractions to yourself until after class?”

Another murmur of laughter swept through the room, and you shrank in your seat, mortified. His smirk widened, but he leaned back in his chair, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“Of course, ma’am,” he drawled. “No more distractions.”

Professor Callahan gave him a pointed look, then turned back to the board, resuming her lecture. You sat there, face burning, refusing to look anywhere near Rafe, but you could feel his eyes on you.

“Guess I got you in trouble, huh?” he whispered, leaning closer.

You grit your teeth, still staring resolutely at the front of the room. “Stop talking.”

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, his voice teasing. “You’re way more interesting than this shit.”

“Rafe, I swear—”

“Okay, okay, I’ll behave,” he said lightly, sitting back. But he didn’t take his eyes off you. You could feel him lingering, warm and intent, and you wanted to scream. How was he so calm? So unaffected, like getting called out by the professor was just a minor inconvenience?

You hated every second of it.

“Rafe,” you hissed under your breath, finally daring to glance at him. “Will you just—”

“What?” He leaned in again, eyes bright with mischief. “You want me to go back to ignoring you?”

“Stop staring.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “Can’t promise that, princess.”

Your heart hammered, and you squeezed your pen so tightly it nearly snapped. “Why are you even here?”

He shrugged, his expression turning oddly serious. “I like sitting next to you.”

Rafe Cameron—the arrogant, cocky asshole you’d written off as nothing more than a nuisance—had just chosen to stay by your side.

As soon as class ended, you gathered your things in record time, heart still thumping wildly. The room buzzed with students shuffling out, but you kept your head down, hoping to slip away unnoticed.

Maybe if you were quick enough, you could escape before he decided to make good on his new, annoying habit of sticking to you like glue. But, of course, he was nothing if not persistent.

You’d barely slung your bag over your shoulder when he appeared at your side, his tall frame looming over you as he fell into step like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Heading to lunch?” he asked, all casual charm, as if he hadn’t just spent the entire class making you the center of unwanted attention.

“Yes?” You tried not to sound as thrown as you felt, but the way he looked at you—with that infuriatingly lazy grin—told you he could see right through you.

“Cool. I’m starving.” He said it like it was an invitation, like he was entitled to follow you, and before you could muster up a half-hearted protest, he was already steering you through the crowded hallway.

“Wait, what are you doing?” you demanded, glancing around in panic. People were staring, eyes widening as they took in the sight of Rafe Cameron, of all people, trailing after you. Whispers flitted through the air, curious and disbelieving, and you shrank under the scrutiny, feeling painfully exposed.

“Uh, going to lunch with you?” He made it sound so obvious, his voice lilting with amusement.

“I didn’t invite you!” You glanced at him, trying to tamp down the fluttery, nervous feeling his presence always seemed to stir up. “What if I’m eating with someone else?”

He shrugged. “Then I’ll eat with them too.”

You gawked at him. “What?”

But Rafe just flashed you that cocky, confident grin. “Relax. It’s just lunch.”

Just lunch, he said, like this wasn’t completely absurd.

You narrowed your eyes, debating whether to make a break for it, but he was already steering you toward the main quad, his hand ghosting the small of your back in a way that made your skin tingle. 

Your heart hammered as the familiar outdoor seating area came into view. Your friends were already there, sitting at your usual table—a small group of two girls and a guy, all talking animatedly. You hadn’t even sat down yet, and they still managed to look up as one, their expressions morphing from curious to shocked when they caught sight of you—and Rafe—heading straight toward them.

“Uh, hey,” you greeted awkwardly as you approached. They just stared, mouths agape.

Emily was the first to recover. “What the—since when do you two know each other?” she asked, eyes darting between you and Rafe like she was seeing some kind of glitch in the matrix.

“Yeah, what’s going on here?” Max, the guy in your small circle, chimed in, his gaze flicking to Rafe warily. “Is this, like… a project thing?”

“No, it’s not—” you started, but Rafe cut you off with a breezy smile.

“Can’t believe y’all kept her to yourselves this whole time,” he drawled, pulling out the chair beside yours and plopping down like he’d done it a thousand times before. “Thought you’d have the decency to introduce me to the most interesting girl on campus.”

Your friends gaped, eyes wide with shock. You could practically see their brains short-circuiting. Meanwhile, you were fighting the urge to smack him upside the head.

“Please shut up,” you muttered under your breath, cheeks burning.

But he just smirked, his gaze sliding over your stunned friends with lazy amusement. “What?” he said innocently. “It’s true.”

“What the hell is happening right now?” Emily demanded, still staring at you like you’d grown a second head. “You—you and Rafe Cameron?”

You sighed, already regretting every life choice that had led you to this moment. “There is no ‘me and Rafe Cameron.’ He just—he’s being annoying.”

“Annoying?” he repeated, feigning offense. “C’mon. I thought we were past that.”

“We are not past anything,” you snapped, shooting him a glare. But that only seemed to amuse him more.

“Okay, back up,” Max interjected, brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you guys even know each other?”

“Uh, sociology class?” you offered weakly, as if that explained anything. “He’s been sitting next to me.”

“Sitting next to you?” Emily repeated slowly, like she was trying to process a particularly difficult equation. “And now you’re… eating lunch together?”

“It’s not—” You looked helplessly at Rafe, who was watching the exchange with that insufferable smirk. “I didn’t ask him to.”

He looked completely unfazed by the mess he’d caused. “What can I say? I like the company.”

“Since when?” Emily shot back, clearly unconvinced.

Rafe shrugged, “Since she started talking to me.”

Your friends fell silent, eyes wide and suspicious as they turned to you, searching for answers. But you just sat there, feeling utterly, hopelessly lost. What were you supposed to say? That Rafe Cameron had decided, out of nowhere, to insert himself into your life? That he was following you to lunch like this was some sort of normal occurrence?

“Look,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s really not a big deal. He’s just—”

“Rafe Cameron is never ‘just’ anything,” Emily interrupted, folding her arms as she fixed Rafe with a suspicious look. “So what are you up to?"

“Nothing,” Rafe said easily, his smile all sharp edges. “Like I said, I’m just getting to know her.”

“Getting to know her,” Max echoed, clearly skeptical.

“Yeah.” Rafe’s eyes never left yours, his eyes gleaming with something that made your pulse flutter. “What’s so weird about that?”

Your friends exchanged looks. You didn’t blame them. This was weird. More than weird. You’d never been the kind of girl to attract attention—especially not from someone like Rafe. Popular, arrogant, and completely out of your league in every possible way. And yet, here he was, acting like sitting with you at lunch was the most natural thing in the world.

“So,” He said suddenly, turning his attention back to the group, “Are you gonna sit here gaping all day, or are we gonna eat?”

Emily blinked, snapping out of her daze. “Uh, yeah, we’re… we’re eating.”

“Good.” Rafe turned to you, eyebrow raised. “You eating, princess?”

You stared at him, “I—yes?”

“Cool. Want me to grab you something?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re offering to get me lunch?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I am. Now, what do you want?”

“I—” You swallowed, glancing at your friends, who were watching the exchange like it was some sort of bizarre performance. “Um, a sandwich?”

“Got it.” Rafe pushed to his feet, his smile smug. “Be right back.”

And then, to your utter disbelief, he sauntered off toward the food line, leaving you and your friends staring after him.

“What,” Max said slowly, “the hell just happened?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I have no idea.”

The awkward lunch with Rafe didn’t end as badly as you expected.

Your friends had spent the entire time shooting you confused, bewildered looks, while he seemed to thrive under their scrutiny, lounging beside you like he belonged. He didn’t flirt—thank God—but he didn’t exactly tone down his usual cocky self either. By the end of it, he’d somehow managed to charm your friends just enough to leave them confused rather than outright hostile. Still, after that lunch, you’d expected him to lose interest, to move on to his usual crowd and forget all about his bizarre little experiment. But of course, he wasn’t known for playing by the rules.

You learned that the hard way two days later.

It was late afternoon, and you were holed up in the campus library, buried under a mountain of textbooks and notes for an upcoming exam. The library was your sanctuary—quiet, calm, and blissfully free of distractions. At least, until Rafe sauntered in. You didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in your notes. The library was busy, students murmuring as they worked, the rustle of pages and the faint clack of keyboards filling the air. You were hunched over a particularly dense passage in your sociology textbook when you felt it—

You stiffened, glancing up cautiously, and there he was.

He leaned against the bookshelf a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you with a lazy, assessing look. He didn’t move, just watched you, his lips quirking in that infuriating smirk when your eyes met.

“What are you doing here?” you hissed, glancing around nervously. No one seemed to be paying attention, but you still felt like the entire room was suddenly staring.

“Studying,” he said, straight-faced.

“Since when do you study in the library?”

“Since now,” he said easily, pushing off the bookshelf and strolling over to your table. He pulled out the chair across from you, dropping into it like he had every right to be there. “What? Can’t a guy broaden his horizons?”

You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re joking.”

“Not today, princess.” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand as he peered at your open book. “So, what’re we learning?”

“We are not learning anything,” you muttered, eyes narrowing. “I’m studying. You are… I don’t know what you’re doing.”

“Keeping you company,” he said simply. “You looked lonely.”

Your mouth fell open. “Lonely?”

“Yeah.” He tilted his head, his gaze sweeping over your face. “All holed up in here with your books. Thought I’d help.”

What was he even talking about? This was insane. He didn’t just hang out in the library, especially not to “keep someone company.” He was the kind of guy who spent his free time at parties, or on the field, or wherever people like him thrived. And yet, here he was, sitting across from you in the library like this was normal.

“Rafe,” you said slowly, “you don’t even know what I’m studying.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re trying to help,” you shot back, frustration seeping into your voice. “You’re—what are you even—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Calm down. Just trying to see what’s got you all riled up.”

You bit back a groan, rubbing your temples. This was absurd. You didn’t need—didn’t want—his attention.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning your textbook around so he could see the page. “I’m going over Durkheim’s theory of social integration.”

Rafe leaned in, squinting at the page. “Durkheim, huh?”

“Yes,” you said, a little impatiently. “He believed that society functions through a collective conscience—shared beliefs and values that bind people together.”

“Sounds boring as hell,” Rafe said bluntly.

“It’s not boring,” you retorted before you could stop yourself. “It’s actually really interesting—he argued that a lack of social integration could lead to anomie, a state of normlessness that causes people to feel disconnected and isolated.”

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. At least it felt that way to you.

“What?” you demanded, suddenly self-conscious. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

He shrugged, a strange, thoughtful smile tugging at his lips. “Just… you get really into this stuff, don’t you?”

Your cheeks flushed. “It’s sociology. It’s important.”

“Yeah, but…” He shook his head, “It’s kinda cute.”

You blinked, your brain short-circuiting. “Cute?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back, crossing his arms as he regarded you with a casual, easy confidence that made your heart flutter. “You get all intense when you talk about it. Like, you actually care.”

“I—I do care,” you stammered, “It’s my major.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I like that about you.”

What—what was that supposed to mean? Why was he looking at you like that, like he actually meant it?

Before you could even begin to untangle your thoughts, a shadow fell over the table, and you glanced up to see another student standing there—a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and glasses. He looked vaguely familiar, probably from one of your classes.

“Uh, hey,” the guy said awkwardly, glancing between you and Rafe. “Are—are you using this seat?”

Rafe’s expression changed instantly, “Yeah,” he said flatly. “We are.”

The guy blinked, taken aback. “Oh, uh, sorry, I just—”

“You just can find another table,” Rafe cut in, “We’re a little busy here.”

You gaped at him, mortified. “Rafe, stop.”

But he didn’t even glance at you. He just kept staring down the poor guy, his posture tense and unyielding until, with a muttered apology, the student backed off, scurrying away like he’d just had a close encounter with a predator.

“What the hell was that?” you hissed as soon as the guy was out of earshot. “He just wanted to sit down!”

“Yeah, and we’re studying,” Rafe said dismissively. “No room for distractions.”

“We’re not studying anything!” you shot back, resisting the urge to smack him. “You’re just sitting here, being—being weird.”

“Not weird,” he corrected, leaning in again. “Protective.”

You froze, your mouth going dry. “Protective?”

“Yeah.” His eyes were dark, intense, locking onto yours. “Can’t have just anyone bothering you, can I?”

After the bizarre encounter in the library, you were convinced Rafe would drop this whole… whatever it was. Surely, following you to lunch and then “protecting” you in the library was enough.

So when you found yourself at another party two nights later—dragged along by Emily despite your vehement protests—you knew it was only a matter of time before he found you. Because somehow, no matter where you went, Rafe had made it his mission to seek you out.

“Come on, you need to have some fun,” Emily had insisted, half-pulling, half-dragging you through the front door of one of the fraternity houses on campus. The music was already blaring, the heavy bass vibrating through your body. People were packed in the main room, laughing, talking, drinking, the buzz of chatter filling the air.

“This isn’t my idea of fun,” you muttered, hugging your arms around yourself as you tried to avoid brushing against the partygoers. It wasn’t that you disliked parties, exactly—it was just that the noise, the sheer volume of people could get overwhelming quickly.

“Just stay for an hour,” Emily pleaded. “Please? I swear it’ll be more fun than you think. We can dance, have a few drinks—”

“I don’t dance,” you cut in flatly, giving her a pointed look.

“Okay, fine, I’ll dance, and you… can hang out and people-watch,” she amended, undeterred. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll meet someone.”

You gave her a withering stare. “Yeah, because I’m such a social butterfly.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate, and began making your way through the press of bodies. After a few minutes you managed to find a relatively quiet corner in the back, near the stairs, and gratefully leaned against the wall. Maybe if you stayed out of sight long enough, Emily would give up on trying to get you to socialize and let you leave early. It was a long shot, but you could hope.

You hadn’t been there long when you felt it—the now-familiar prickling sensation of someone’s gaze lingering on you. Sure enough, when you glanced up, there he was.

Rafe, in all his infuriating glory, leaning against the wall a few feet away, his eyes locked on you with that lazy focus that made your heart stutter. He looked unfairly good, dressed in a dark button-up that clung to his frame in all the right ways, his hair tousled just enough to look effortlessly cool. And, as usual, he was watching you like you were the only person in the room.

You narrowed your eyes at him, your stomach twisting in irritation and something else. “Are you stalking me now?” you demanded, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

Rafe’s lips curved into a slow, teasing smile. “Would it be so bad if I was?”

“Yes,” you said flatly. “It would be very bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low, sending an unwelcome shiver down your spine. “Relax, princess. I just saw you standing here all alone and thought I’d come say hi.”

“Hi,” you muttered, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Now you can leave.”

But he didn’t budge. Instead, he straightened, pushing off the wall and closing the distance between you in a few long strides until he was standing directly in front of you, his presence overwhelming.

You tried to step back, but the wall blocked your escape.

“Actually, I was thinking we could, I don’t know, hang out for a bit?” he suggested, tilting his head as he regarded you with a faux-innocent smile.

“Why?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Rafe blinked, seemingly taken aback by the question. “Why?”

“Yes,” you insisted, frustration bubbling up inside you. “Why do you keep… doing this? Showing up, sitting with me, following me to lunch, acting like—like we’re friends or something. What is your deal, Cameron?”

Slowly he reached up, bracing one hand on the wall beside your head, leaning in so close you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

“My deal,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, “is that I like you.”

No. No, no, no.

That couldn’t be right. People didn't just like you. They tolerated you, maybe, or found you useful sometimes, but they didn't like you. Not like that. Not in the way he was implying. You felt panic rising in your chest, like a wave that was too big to stop. You couldn’t stop it.

“You’re lying,” you said shakily, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re just—this is some kind of game, isn’t it? Some—some bet, or—”

Rafe’s expression tightened, his jaw clenching. “It’s not a game,” he ground out, his eyes flashing. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You swallowed hard, your chest aching. No, this couldn’t be happening. This didn’t make sense.

“I don’t believe you,” you shook your head stubbornly.

His eyes narrowed, “No?”

“No,” you repeated, crossing your arms defiantly. “You’re just… you. You can’t just decide you like me out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t decide,” he murmured, “It just happened.”

Your breath hitched, your heart racing. Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?

“I—” You broke off, struggling to find words, but before you could answer, a loud voice interrupted.

“Yo, Rafe! There you are, man!”

You both jerked back, startled, and you glanced over to see one of Rafe’s friends—Topper, if you remembered correctly—stumbling over, a wide grin plastered across his face.

“What are you doing back here?” Topper slurred, his gaze sliding to you. He blinked, “Who’s this?”

Rafe stepped in front of you slightly, his posture tense and protective. “Doesn’t matter,” he said curtly, “Go find someone else to bother.”

Topper blinked, taken aback. “Whoa, man, chill. I was just—”

“Go,” Rafe repeated, his tone brooking no argument.

Topper stared at him for a long moment, then slowly backed off, muttering under his breath as he disappeared into the crowd. As soon as he was gone, Rafe turned back to you, his eyes softening again.

“Sorry about that,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to—”

“Why did you do that?” you cut in, your heart still pounding.

Rafe frowned. “Do what?”

“Get rid of him,” you said, shaking your head in confusion. “He was your friend. Why would you—”

Maybe you’d misread him. Maybe he didn’t actually mean any of what he said. He was probably just bored, looking for some amusement—another toy to play with for a little while.

“I wanted to talk to you. Not him.”

You blinked, bewildered. “But he’s your friend.”

He gave a half-hearted shrug. “So? Doesn’t mean I want him interrupting us.”

Us. Like there was an “us.” Like there could ever be an “us.”

You shook your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion. “But I don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I don’t get it. You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough,” he said quietly, his eyes holding yours in a way that made it hard to breathe. “More than you think.”

You frowned. It was impossible to shake the nagging feeling that he was just… playing with you. That this was all some sick joke and at any moment, the punchline would hit, and you’d be the idiot.

“You’re just messing with me,” you muttered, taking a small step back to put some space between you. “You’re bored or something.”

“I’m not bored,” he said firmly, stepping forward to close the gap you’d just created. “I told you, I wouldn’t do that.”

“I didn’t ask for any of this. You’ve been following me around, showing up where I am, saying all these things like—like we’re something, but we’re not.”

Rafe stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? You really think I’m just messing around?”

“Yes!” you practically shouted, throwing your hands up. “Yes, I do! Why else would you be doing this? You’re Rafe Cameron, for god’s sake. You don’t even like me. This is just some twisted game to you, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, trying to read his face, trying to find any hint of dishonesty, any sign that this was all an act. But all you saw was that same intensity, that same focus, like you were the only person who mattered.

Your chest tightened, panic grazing at you. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. People didn’t just… like you. They didn’t seek you out at parties or show up in libraries to talk about sociology. Guys like Rafe didn’t choose people like you. There had to be some ulterior motive.

“You show up out of nowhere, act like I’m some project, some… someone who needs your protection—why, Rafe? Because I don’t fit into your world? Because I’m some joke to you and your friends?”

“That’s not it,” He growled, his voice defensive. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?” you scoffed, shaking your head. “You haven’t been honest about anything. You haven’t given me a reason to believe any of this.”

“You think I’m lying? 

You moved your head again, harder this time. “That doesn’t make sense. You’re—you’re saying things that don’t make sense. I don’t understand.”

He took a slow, poising breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "What doesn't make sense to you?" 

"All of this," you replied, your voice quivering with frustration, "You, acting like you—like you actually care. Like you see me. People don’t just do that, not for someone like me. I don’t—" You cut yourself off, not sure how to finish the sentence, your thoughts spiraling.

It wasn’t just that you couldn’t believe him; it was that you didn’t know how to believe him. Your experiences had taught you to be wary, to always look for the catch, because there always was one.

Always.

Rafe's brows drawn together in something that almost looked like concern. "Someone like you?" he repeated, "What does that even mean?"

You swallowed, feeling your insecurities gripping down on your chest. "It means I’m not… like you. I don’t know how to talk to people, I don’t get things right all the time. People don’t notice me, and when they do, it’s usually because I’ve done something wrong, or because they want something from me. That’s just how it is."

He shook his head slowly. "That’s not how I see you."

You opened your mouth to argue, to say something—anything—to dismiss what he was saying, to protect yourself from the disappointment that was sure to come. But Rafe didn’t give you the chance. 

"You think I’m messing with you because you’re not like everyone else? Is that it? You think I’m playing some kind of game because you don’t fit into some stupid idea of who’s supposed to matter?" 

You wanted to pull away, to recoil into the safety of your doubts, but something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you, made you stop.

"I’m not going to pretend like I know everything about you," Rafe continued, no less serious. "But I know enough to know that I’m not bored. I don’t care if you don’t fit in with my world, or whatever you think that means. I like that you’re passionate about the things you care about. I like that you don’t put up with anyone’s shit—not even mine." A small, almost self-deprecating smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ve spent enough time around fake people to know the difference."

You weren’t used to this—this kind of sincerity. It felt too real. And part of you still wanted to push it away, to reject it before it had a chance to hurt you. But another part of you—a much smaller, quieter part—was whispering that maybe he meant it.

"Why me?"

"Because you're you," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

For a long, breathless moment, the two of you just stood there, the noise of the party fading into the background. Your mind was still processing everything, but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you feel—just for a second—like maybe you could trust this.

You shook your head, "I’m not… I’m not good at this," you admitted, your voice uncertain. "At understanding what people mean, or knowing if they’re being serious or not. I don’t know how to read you."

Rafe’s eyes softened even more at your confession, and he took a deep breath, like he was trying to figure out how to make you believe him. "I get that," he said quietly. "And I’m not always great at this either. But I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, especially not about this."

You wanted to believe him. More than anything, you wanted to believe him. But there was still that tiny voice of doubt in the back of your mind, reminding you of all the times you’d been wrong before, of all the times you’d trusted someone only to be let down.

You hesitated, your throat tight. "I don’t know if I can."

He didn’t push, didn’t demand anything from you. Instead, he just nodded slowly.

"That’s okay. You don’t have to believe me right now. But I’ll be here when you’re ready."

And with that, he stepped back, giving you the space you so desperately needed. He didn’t try to force anything, didn’t press for more. Instead, he just gave you a small, almost hopeful smile and turned, disappearing back into the crowd.

And as you stood there, your heart still pummeling into your ribs, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d been wrong about him after all.

[harmonysanreads]

just a thought but smth LAUGHABLY funny is a very bitter neuvillette. since he’s in a very high position of power, his words might even be law itself atp, so imagine him as your loser bitter ex.

trying to execute this can be silly—bc who’s willing to go that far to spite someone’s ex? neuvillette probably would. bc you see: he cherished you so much. he was willing to grovel for you, disregarding his status and his character. you’ve seen it all, him breaking his cold mask. beneath it all, is just a very clingy and obsessive man. so once you left under the pretences of him being “too overbearing, it was suffocating you,” he let it go quite well. you thought he’d argue with you on it (as he would usually do) and even forbid you from leaving. but nay, you left him the next day with his head hung low and a look of defeat shadowing his face. it felt like mutual acceptance for both parts, it was hard of course, but at least you were glad neuvillette didn’t react harshly against you.

give it a month, not too long, until you realise that you’ve been laid off. quite harshly. you had a pretty stable job with good income. suddenly your boss sends you a letter one day out of the blue. your boss says you’ve been fired. why? you asked. didn’t say much. ok, maybe it’s time to go find another job. you do, only to end up being turned away from every single one you’ve applied to. have you been blacklisted? what did you do exactly for the entirety of fontaine to completely shun you away?

you’re low-key struggling with your income. the place you were staying at, you’re on the verge of being kicked out because you’re behind payments. you might as well flee this city altogether, but you really don’t want to give up since you’ve lived your whole life here. you keep on pursuing, finding any place willing to take you in. unsurprisingly, you’ve met a dead end. you’re teetering the edge of snapping so you wonder, has it something to do with your records? because as far as you know, you once had a good job that you got all by yourself due to you track record and lists of achievements. not a single blemish, you think, is on your track record. you were once well respected and regarded by peers and acquaintances alike, but now? you are nothing but a mere ghost to them, completely forgotten. so after much contemplation, you’re seizing to get your hands on your papers and records. were you that unqualified?

until one day, your questions were answered. there was a loud knock coming from your door. it was your last week living at your house, so when you opened the door to welcome the government officials at your doorsteps, they eyed boxes behind you. the space behind you was barren and it did not feel like a home anymore. there’s a sullen look on your face, so with a sympathetic sigh the man in front of you stated his reason for coming here. “we have a warrant out for your arrest.”

it rushes out like a wave that smothers you. a warrant? you haven’t done anything unlawful, you’re sure of it. but now as you bask in this dreadful situation, is that why your life has slowly fallen apart? there’s no way, no way that’s true. what crime did you commit? did you do something awfully criminal or something completely small that the laws of fontaine has harshly persecuted you for? fontaine has always been strict in that regard. “what for?” you ask, it sounded like you had an entire list of crimes you were hiding, yet you had a look of genuine surprise and confusion. “multiple, actually.” the man responds. ok, now this is getting really weird. he asks if you’re willing to come with them for questioning, maybe discuss about it more thoroughly, perhaps it can answer some of the questions frantically falling out of your mouth.

you come with them, under arrest currently, as they have you transported to some kind of holding room. you’re now scared shitless, wondering what possibly could you have done wrong. you’re praying to archons that this was all just a dream. you’re life was already going to shit, but now? you’ve completely reached your breaking point. all in a span of a few months where you were laid off without any explanation, blacklisted from every place apparently, and as of last week you were packing up your things to leave your home without even knowing where to go. now, you just found out you had not one, but MULTIPLE warrants. you started laughing, quite uncomfortably, at yourself the more you pondered. the echo of your lonely laughs laughed back at you as you stared across a wall as it all slowly melted into a choked sob. what were you going to do now?

before you could sit in silent reflection any longer, the door next to you creaked open. you turn to look at who it was, expecting to see an investigator or maybe even a lawyer, but your face fell the moment you saw who it was.

neuvillette. that bastard.

he enters and sits in front of you, with a proposition that makes your stomach twists and turn. he’s made your life a complete hell and now he saunters his power and hold against you, painting it as a guiding light. he said, he’d help you against your warrants. perhaps even help you reconvene your entire life that has been shattered. it sounds a little too good to be true and it was happening all to fast. your life fell apart the moment you left him. and now? you had a chance to pick it all back up. “so, what’s the catch?”

you really hated that look on his face when you asked. you only knew, you’d be trapped regardless of the choice you make wether to accept his offer or not.

(if i ever return in the future: can i be 🗽 anon?)

Just a thought???? 🗽anon THIS IS A FULL-COURSE MEAL, A BANQUET.

But what you despised more was how it made you feel, that curve of his lips was uncharacteristic— if you were being generous in your description— and malicious if you were not. It made you feel as though you were thrown into the ocean without any experience of swimming, it sent the twirling of your thoughts askew and the air stolen from your lungs.

“Why, you'll have to be mine again. No second chances, no excuses, no backing out.” Neuvillette shifts in his seat, inching just the right bit closer to your increasingly distressed form.

“...Of course, of course! Why didn't I think it sooner? This was all your doing, you were behind it all! You—” it took all your willpower to not take advantage of the distance and commit something that'd actually earn you a cell in Fontaine's jail, hand settling on jabbing a finger at the judge's chest to rid your rage even in the slight.

You're unsure of what your visage has contorted to, your restless eyes search his for a reflection, blurred emotions stare back at you. Your body trembles as the dots connect, a touch of silk transferred across your whole palm as it fists against his ribbon. For a moment, you vacillate between who to be angry at ; him, the corrupt world or you. If the universe had at least sent a sign a month prior, your litany of curses could've been directed at the culprit instead of your fate.

“I should've known you were up to something when you didn't retaliate, when you just let me go like that, I should've...I..”

At this instance, vehement words threaten to spill from your lips as well but a fraction of what remains of your sanity makes you hold your tongue as the gravity of your situation settles in, only a croaked why escaping past your throat. It must've been pitiful, because Neuvillette's smirk falters and straightens into a thin line. One gloved hand takes a tentative hold of your wrist still clinging to his clothes and you hate how familiar his touch feels.

“Do you wish to know why?”

The offer entices your head to rise again, you take a shaky inhale and the Chief Justice proceeds according to the cue.

“Because I love you.”

One of the lamps illuminating the room flickers off, that little sound bounces off of the walls and fills the deathly quiet momentarily. Fury turns to confusion and then disbelief. Your fingers slacken and this time, his hand tightens around your wrist.

“You're insane.”

Neuvillette's head tilts in inquisition, a wordless encouragement for you to continue.

“You abused your power, had me fired and blacklisted from all the working environments of Fontaine, soiled my reputation and attached false crimes to my name.. because you love me?”

Your free arm reaches for the judge's collar and yanks him closer, a grunt escapes him but he makes no further move and it unsettles you. For such an offensive action, you'd expected a nasty glare at the very least ; while that would've been scary, it'd still make more sense than the neutral expression on his fair face.

“Yes, is this not what is common? You told me yourself that you do everything within your power to hold onto the person you love.” his nonchalant answer has you let go of the fabric hastily, backing away as though you were faced with an alien instead of a man. Neuvillette never relinquishes his hold but a sigh does escape him at your behavior, a somewhat normal reaction at last.

“I once praised your stubbornness as your biggest strength but do you not see that at this moment, it's your greatest weakness? It's holding you back from rewinding everything.” the judge leans in and you lean away til your back hits the seat, he pins you by your wrist.

“I promise all will be resolved, no one in the entirety of this nation will utter a word about this, everyone will behave as though nothing happened, that this was just a tiny lovers' quarrel. All you have to do is say yes.” Neuvillette's white locks tickle your skin, his voice turns hushed in utmost secrecy and his breath fans the heat blossoming across your neck.

You want to push him away, you want to recoil from his proximity and you want the earth to split open and swallow you whole. His free hand takes your chin and forces you to face the tempest brewing in his eyes, the intensity pushes you to break and to comply — you don't want to comply or to say yes. Because you know what happens if you do, it's the exact suggestion he'd whispered before your engagement but it was different then. Back then, you'd known you could back out and that's why you'd been worriless. You could deny him now as per your sheer pertinacity as well, but Neuvillette makes it clear that all that'd do is making the path to the inevitable more painful.

After all, the waves never offer consolation to the ruined sand-castle, they only wait until they can destroy it again.

[pjflmga]

chicago, alessia russo x reader

summary: story based on the song chicago by louis tomlinson. angst and no happy ending. stream chicago it’s banger🔥

a/n: english is not my first language and i’m dead tired + wrote it in the middle of the night, so sorry if the grammar and stuff is shit at times🥲 also it’s like my first fic writte so yea:o ig if you have an idea of a story or smth send them in :)

wc: 1,8k ish

enjoyy

——————————————————

alessia was sitting on the coach of her apartment in north london, as she scrolled through instagram… or stalking through your instagram to be precise. your last post being a picture of your now 18 month(🥲) old baby.

“my baby girl olivia is now 18 months old🥹❤️” the caption said.

a tear formed in her eye as she thought of the name. the name that her and you had come up with together, at the age of 13. the name she thought you would name you little baby together. the name that you now used for your own baby, without her.

————

alessia and you had been close friends since middle school, when you both were 9.

it had been a normal school day where alessia sat daydreaming about going professional in the thing she loved the most, football, when the blondes friend lisa came running towards her.

“lessi!!! giorgio and peter are at it again.” she said while breathing out.

“huh?” the young girl answered as her head jerked up.

“they got into some argument and it’s getting heated.” lisa answered as the two began running towards the fight. “i think you can talk him out of it.” she continued.

“GIORGIO!” she yelled.

“PETER!” someone else yelled at the same time.

alessia saw how her brother and the other boy looked towards her and the other voice quickly. at that time teachers had arrived as well and told the boys off. so instead of parenting her older brother, the blonde looked over to the other voice and caught your eyes, as you were looking at her with curiosity.

“wow” she thought to yourself “she has the coolest outfit ever” so like the 9- year old she was, she walked over to you and introduced herself. “hello, my name is alessia, but my friends call me less or lessi and i think your outfit is so cooll!“ she said.

“hi alessia, i’m y/n, my freinds call me y/n/n. ” you answered excitedly. “thank you, your eyes are so, so pretty.” you continued, entirely mesmerised by her blue eyes. “oh and that potato head over there, is my brother peter.”

“the boy who fought with your brother is my big brother gio. he usually is the best, we play football together all the time!” alessia laughed.

“no way? i love football too!” you screamed excitedly. “would you like to play with me sometime?”

and just like that a wonderful friendship blossomed out between alessia and you. years passed and the bond the blonde shared with you, only grew stronger. as the two of you turned 16 she realised she might be feeling something else than normal friendship for you. little did she know, you felt the same about her.

as the weeks past the two of you became a bit more and more bold and flirtier, and then all of a sudden you started dating. both of your families loved the other girl. even your big brothers had become friendly and only bantered up a little now and then, but more as a joke of course.

after a few months, on alessia’s 17th birthday, you officially asked the blonde to be your girlfriend. she answered more than happily with a “yes!”. the other present from you might have been even better though. it was your black nike hoodie, that smelled just like you.

both alessia and you loved football, but it was clear as a day who was actually going for it and who wasn’t, and had it more like a side hobby.

alessia was thriving and was currently playing for chelsea’s academy team as well as playing for england’s youth team. you were more than happy for her and watched as she smashed in goal after goal week in and week out.

alessia was so proud of you who were doing quite good as well, playing for the local team in kent. ruling the midfield and scoring some nice goals yourself. of course, when she didn’t have training or her own games, she was there to watch.

everything between the two of you was just perfect, you went to school, played football and had each other. and that weekly routine worked perfectly well for you.

but as they say, all good comes to an end.

the blonde striker and you had only one month left of school before graduating and you were buzzing. you had told your girlfriend that you weren’t too sure of what to do now. sure, you had applied for some courses at a university in london. but other than that your plan was to chill a bit, playing some football and so on. it was no real rush anyways.

alessia on the other hand, had big plans coming up. the striker had applied for different collages in the usa to be able to play football on a higher level, as well as studying. but these great plans of hers weren’t anything you were aware of.

so graduation came, you were celebrating with your friends from school, as well as had a graduation party with each other that your families had planned. everything was just perfect. a few days later alessia had to leave for camp, and that’s when she thought it was time to break the news to you.

“uh, y/n…” she started as she felt a big lump in her throat. “i uh- i, i have a applied for some collages in the usa for the upcoming years. and i uh, i got accepted for unc in north carolina.” she stuttered out nervously.

“oh.” was all you got out, as she saw tears threatening behind your eyes. “less that is great for you.” you forced out with a weak smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“i’m so sorry i didn’t tell you sooner, i really am.” the blonde whispered out. “but i just, i just didn’t know how to tell you and then time passed and you kn-“

“i get it alessia.” you said bluntly. alessia frowned a bit at the usage of her full name, instead of one of a nickname she knew you had, on your never ending list.

“but i thought we could make it work anyways. i’d come back when i have breaks, and maybe you could do the same and we call and text each other all the time. i mean we can do that yeah?” she started to ramble.

“i… i have to go.” you said and left, slamming the door in her face a little too hard. with the sound of your steps leaving, alessia broke down on the floor and cried. this was not the way she had thought it’d be.

sad and slow alessia went to camp, as she put on a smile on her face. this time it didn’t quite reach her eyes though. when game day came around, the lionesses were playing in london. the blonde excitedly looked towards the small crowd to see if you were there, like you had planned. but to her disappointment, you weren’t. she saw her mom looking at her with sad smile, confirming what she feared.

after camp, alessia went straight to your house, only to be met by your mom, who didn’t look oh- so happy.

“please let me talk to her, i need to speak to y/n.” the blonde pleaded.

“alessia, she is broken, she doesn’t want to see you right now.” your mom answered with a stern face. “and you know why.” she added quickly.

of course alessia knew all this was her fault, but she also knew this was something she had to do for her career. so when august came around, she packed all her stuff and flew to her new home for the upcoming years.

the two of you hadn’t spoken since before her england camp, despite her texting and calling everyday, with no success of reaching you. as the blonde forward landed in north carolina, she sent yet another text message “i’m in the usa now. i miss you y/n, please call me<3 i know we can work this out”. to her big surprise you this time gave her a short reply “i miss you too, good luck with everything.”

maybe, just maybe this bitter end of yours, would turn around? maybe that could be the case for you two.

—————

the years past and alessia was now in back in england, more specifically in the red side of manchester. she had also gotten her first call up to national team. her time at collage had been an absolute blast, but not one day went without her thinking of you.

thanks to social media, she knew you lived in central london now. she knew you studied at queen mary university to become a journalist, a dream you had had as you grew older. and she knew you had a new life, that didn’t include her.

the years flew by and right out of nowhere alessia was the front face for the lionesses having won the euros, gotten a silver medal in the world cup and was now settled in north london. but still, not a day went by without her thinking of you. not a day went by without her wishing she could tell you about all her adventures and experiences she’d gotten the past years. not a day went by without her wishing to have you in her life. she wondered if you kept up with her life, what you would’ve said and if you were proud of her.

it had been a tough game for arsenal against their blue london rivals, chelsea. the blues had beaten the gooners with a comfortable 3-1 win at stamford bridge. despite the loss, she bid her thank yous to the fans, as well as signing some autographs and taking some photos. just as she was about to walk away into the dressing rooms, she spotted a face she would recognise anywhere. was it you? it couldn’t be? she blinked, and just like that you were gone.

as the striker got home she burst down in tears, putting on the hoodie you once gave her, thinking back to all the times you had been there and comforted her. especially after a loss. you always knew what to say and what to do, to make her feel better.

alessia replayed the day she told you about her heading off to collage over and over again, and thought once again, what she could’ve done differently. so the arsenal player grabbed her phone and typed in your contact, because of course she still had it saved with a red heart next to your name. but she quickly came to her senses and closed her phone. she couldn’t be that selfish.

she knew you were happy and had a baby. she knew that her name was olivia, just like the two of you had planned. what alessia didn’t know was whether after all these years, you had forgiven her or not. because believe her or not, even if it didn’t work out, the years you had together ever since you were 9 years old were the most meaningful and important to her.

but, maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

[6ronze]

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋!𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐙𝐔 thoughts..

warning(s) : just smth short w sassy sanzu. you can imagine platinum/white or pink haired sanzu here it doesn’t matter. model!au so no deaths or wtvr. he’s a fucking jerk. model!fem!reader. nsfw. mdni. reader smokes. intoxicated pussy eating. clothed eating out. sanzu having a whole plan to fuck you sloppy so you keep coming back for more so maybe a bit toxic if you squint. wc is 1.5k

MODEL!SANZU who was a male model you were made to work with last minute. You couldn’t even refuse or take a second to at least search up his name to see if he was someone you could work with—your manager decided that for you instead.

On the night of the fashion show, you met with pink haired man backstage, briefly introduced to one another by his manager since yours was busy instructing the girls who had their makeup done to change into the clothes assigned to them.

Amidst the busy, cramped space you guys were in, it seemed like the world around seemed to stop when his uninterested eyes finally met yours, the pretty, unique scars on each corners of his lips curling up to an almost mocking smirk. You hated that look on his face, hated him right off the bat. And you also hated how easily his face gave you butterflies.

“You better keep up. ‘m not slowing down if you fall off the runway,” his velvety voice laced with arrogant teasing reaching yours ears like nails on a chalk board, your perfectly touched up face contorting ever so slightly at him. But you didn’t turn to him, refusing to have any sort of connection with your one-night partner.

Lights dimmed, curtains slid open, music cued—you two opened the show. It was a quick-paced walk, not much pressure since you’ve been opening and closing fashion shows for a few years—but for some fucked up reason, you felt the nerves in your prickle your skin. He walked in sync with you, though it was more like he was leading the whole fucking walk with how inconsiderate he was being, walking like you didn’t even exist beside him.

Once you returned backstage, waiting for the rest of the models to walk the runway so you could join the closing walk, you felt awfully peeved. Trying to find out the cause, you turned your head to the first suspect, MODEL!SANZU.

He felt your glare on him but simply chose to ignore you, knowing it’ll probably piss you off more. A scoff left his lips when it was proven true with how you clicked your tongue at him.

“What? Not like it’s your first time walking with your tits out,” he snickered, standing still as a makeup artist touched up his face and dabbed the sweat from his pale skin. “Unless, I made you nervous,” he added after a short period of silence, mesmerising turquoise eyes glancing your way to meet your glare, brows raised with an amused sneer that told you he had no intentions to stop provoking you.

What made it all the worse for you, was that you were liking his attention, as condescending as he might be. Plus, everything about him made you want to stare at him for as long as you could. From his silky long hair, to his lean yet muscular build, and not to mention the scars on the edge of his lips. He was a work of art, ruined in the best way possible.

The night came to an end, finally. It was a few minutes past midnight after the show. While all the bigshots and guests were at the after-party of the event, you models were taking smoke breaks out the backdoor of the building with nothing but black robes or maybe a faux fur coat like the one you were wearing right now.

“Didn’t think you were a smoker. Such a big girl now, aren’t ya?” You heard a familiar voice call out to you from behind, yours lips pursing to a thin straight line with the light smudges of eyeshadow sharpening your already narrowed eyes that glanced at him.

Flick, “not gonna join the party? Some millionaire’s you could sleep with there,” he muttered with a cigarette between his lips as he directed the flame of his lighter below the edge of it.

“Money without good dick doesn’t turn me on,” you huffed, trail of smoke leaving your lips along with your sigh. You turned your head to look at him, expecting some kind of remark to your response—but all you saw was some shitty grin on his face, eyes looking you up and down without an ounce of subtly. Your hand moved to pull your coat tighter over your body as if you were already naked underneath, save for your panties and lace stockings.

“Oh, please. Trynna hide yourself as if I didn’t already see the shape of yours tits and ass. They were quite the view though, can’t lie,” he teased with an initial roll of his eyes, inhaling the cigarette then releasing the smoke.

MODEL!SANZU couldn’t help the twisted pleasure he felt from the sight of your stunning features contorting to a mask of disgust, or even a nasty glare. He liked it even better when you muttered some nasty comment telling him to fuck off, only to see you not lift a finger to make him really go away. You were feisty, knowing how to keep him on his toes while simultaneously pulling him close.

“Come over. Just for the night,” he blurted out, sounding more decisive than he truly was. He punched himself in his mind for suddenly inviting you over, annoyed at himself in fear of going too fast. But he kept a straight face on the outside—a skill he gained from his modelling work.

Your eyes flicked your eyes over to him again, removing the cigarette from your lips and keeping it held between your index and middle finger. It didn’t take you long to ponder for an answer. And he didn’t seem to question you much either. All that happened was a quick nod from you and a brief trip back inside to grab your bag before heading out again to get in his car.

In a blink of an eye, you were in his apartment—a messy space with essential furniture, his taste in colour and interior design something you almost admired. He didn’t bother opening the lights, letting the city lights from outside illuminate the room from the big windows.

Minutes passed in his apartment, red wine served to you in a glass and cigarettes shared and passed. The conversations between you two were somewhat heavy yet filled with banter, the atmosphere starting to get intoxicating the closer and bolder you leaned into him, legs over his lap, giving him a sight of your clothes pussy if he so wished to peek. And being the opportunist he was, he did. Stared at your figure appreciatively even.

Soon enough, hands began to wander and clothes were stripped. It didn’t take long for him to lift your legs of his lap and hang them over his shoulders instead, shifting on the couch to position himself between your legs, leaning down to give half-hearted swipes of his tongue over your dampening folds. His eyes seemed glazed over, as if he was intoxicated, which he was.

You leaned back against the armrest of the plush dark velvet couch, fur coat slipping off your body to reveal your tits, stomach lazily skimmed over by his hand. He felt you squirm from his licks and it almost made him chuckle, hand on your belly sliding over to grip your hip instead. He buried his face further into the apex of your legs, his tongue flicking up and down your clothed pussy with more effort than before, parting your thighs more so he could delve past your folds and reach your clit.

When he finally found your pulsing buds, you felt a subtle jolt wash over your body, a soft moan leaving your tired lips before sipping a hand down to his head, threading your fingers through his locks and tugging on them weakly at first, matching the rhythm of his tongue that soon picked up the pace.

He was getting greedier in seconds, moving his tongue faster up and down your clit, probing your aching slit that he could barely reach due to the fabric that stopped him. As much as the lace annoyed him, he didn’t want to let you have the full experience of his capabilities, yet. He wanted you needy and curious the next morning, he wanted you coming back for more—he didn’t want you to leave.

Your fingers tangled in his hair only tightened with every passing moment, your legs quivering as he brought closer and closer to that sweet release you craved. His saliva made it better, sloppier, wetter. The lewd suckled he made desperately on your bundle on nerves and on your puffy folds made you whine pathetically, eyes closed shut and head straining to brace yourself for the orgasm he gracefully gave you. You gathered a fistful of his hair, pulling onto him to shove him deeper, riding his mouth with every buck of your hips without care if he breathed or not. But you didn’t worry much about him either, since his hands that clawed the fat of your ass and thighs told you he probably enjoyed it as much as you did.

[sniigura-archive]

night sky

college au! Adam x fem!Reader

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4 ; Part 5 ; Masterlist

Summary: Make up, make out- I MEAN!!!

CW/TW/TAGS: SMUT! College Au, Adam is his own warning, semi public sex, misogyny, insecurities on readers side, referenced mental health issues, outdoor sex, squirting, oral sex fem receiving, fingering, controlling behaviour, angst, fighting, making up, manipulative behaviour, jealousy, breeding kink, creampie, tell me if i missed smth

You have been spending an embarrassing amount of time staring into the mirror and stalking Eve’s Instagram account. If anyone ever catches you going insane over a guy like that you would just drop dead on the spot. Not even Judas made you crazy like this.

Part of you feels bad about having violated Adam’s privacy like that. The other part couldn’t give less of a fuck.

He does it all the time so why shouldn’t you??? Equality, or whatever.

After finding the pictures and video on Adam’s phone you have been back on your avoidance trip. You haven’t felt this inadequate before. Well, you have. You haven’t felt this bad in a while. Your careful build up self confidence was gone just like that.

You are pretty sure Adam hates you a bit. It wasn’t bad where you were completely ignoring him. You still text him back (When you feel like it), and talk to him (When he comes to you). He’s becoming restless, you can feel it. Might have to do with the sex ban. Or maybe you keep making excuses about how busy you were.

You tell Adam you’re going to the cafeteria with your friends, and suddenly he’s also there with Lute. Watching you. You work a shift and oh! What a coincidence! He needs to replace his guitar strings! Of course he has to be in the store and talk your ear off your whole shift. Probably has to do with Lucifer turning up that one time.

You text him you can’t hang out, since you have to study in the library. Hanging out just means Adam trying to take your clothes off and you refusing. You can’t stand the idea of not being covered around Adam right now. Wiping Adam’s memory of your body clean would be a dream right now.

Well, you can’t really drown in your insecurities when you keep yourself busy. So you typed away on your laptop, trying to get your last paper for the semester done. You are free after this, all exams are written and assignments submitted. Then you could finally fall into a coma for a week. After that you’re back to working extra shifts for minimum wage with annoying costumers.

Someone pulled out the earphone out of your ear by the cord, you jumped slightly, bashing your knee against the table.

“Motherfu- Adam! Stop sneaking up on me.” You whisper yelled at Adam.

You both were alone in this section, its your hidden little gem. No one around, so technically you could yell at him, but you also don’t want to draw attention to you both.

“Hey, baby. You really know how to make a man search for you. This here your little corner?” He chuckled at you, while pulling out the chair besides yours. He plopped down, his thigh brushing against your knee.

Adam was leaning towards you, his breath fanning against your cheek. You could smell his cologne, “Made me think for a sec that you weren’t here. But you are a good girl, aren’t you? Always telling me truthfully where you are and with who.”

Man, you really were whipped for Adam, because this was turning you on.

Adam grasped the nape of your neck into his rough hand, he easily crossed the small distance between you two and smashed your lips together. He gently bit your lower lip and then brushed his tongue against it. You didn’t have much of a chance, opening your mouth for him before your brain could properly catch up to it.

While Adam’s tongue was entangled with yours, you were holding his face in your hands. His one hand, which wasn’t placed gently around your neck, was wandering across your waist and hips. Finally your rational mind hit you in the face. Separating your mouth from Adam’s made his brows furrow unhappily,

“I really have to do get this done.” You mumbled against his wet lips.

“Aw, babe, you’re such a hard worker. You want me to reward you?” His hand moved from your hand into the waistband of your jeans.

Panic flashed through your body. All your mind could conjure up was the horrible realisation that you aren’t pretty enough, you aren’t smart enough, you weren’t form the right social class and you were just straight up not up to Adam’s standard.

It’s not just Eve and Lilith, its all the girls he had something with. They were all pretty, decked out in expensive and well fitting clothes, they knew their way around fucking trusts funds and the stock market and whatever else. They live a life you can only dream of.

“Get your hand off of me!” You couldn’t help but snap at Adam defensively.

Adam followed your wish, his hands leaving you. You felt cold without his touch.

You saw Adam bite his lip, taking a deep breath. He was probably trying not to snap back at you.

“What’s the fucking matter with you?” He still ended up hissing at you.

As fast as the emotions boiled over, you felt yourself deflate immediately. You had a hard time staying mad at Adam right now. It’s not really his fault that you’re drowning in self pity.

“..I’m sorry. I don’t know, I’m just stressed..I think.” You focus your eyes on your laptop screen. Being a bad liar keeps biting you in the ass. But well, you are stressed. The fact that Adam is stressing you out is something you were going to keep a secret.

“Mmh, what’s stressing my baby out?” Adam’s hand went to gently brush a few strands behind your ear.

“Life.” Is all you sighed out.

“I know a fool prove stress reliever for that, it’s-“ Adam’s lips were brushing against your ear.

“I swear if you say orgasms…” You side eyed him.

“..Going on a date with me! Get your fucking mind out the gutter, sweet thing. But I wouldn’t say no to fucking you, of course.” Adam kissed your cheek, his lips moving towards your jaw, “You want me to overstimulate you, till you can’t think straight?”

Adam’s stubbles were tickling your skin, you giggled and gently shoved your elbow towards him. Shaking him off successfully, you grasped his jaw into your hand and gave his lips a quick kiss. You had to be quick, otherwise he would rope you into a make out session.

“I need to be able to think, so no thank you. Don’t pout like that. Go jerk off or something.” You continue to type away on your laptop, while reading through some paragraphs of the open book laying down besides you.

“Agh, flash me at least your pussy. Or! Send me a nude! Wouldn’t that be romantic?….I would even take you fucking bending over with all your clothes on. Please?” Adam went to rub his cheek against your shoulder while trying to give you puppy eyes.

You snorted at him, yeah as if.

“You are a distraction, Adam.”

“Love how you say my name. Do it again just breathier and more high pitched. Kinda like this ‘Adam~ Adam pleeeaseee~’ “ He mocked your moans from how ever many nights ago.

You felt yourself flush from embarrassment and shoved his face away, while he laughed at you.

“Leave or be quiet.” You told him sternly.

Adam wrapped his arms around your waist, while he still chuckled at his own joke. He laid his head across your shoulder,

“I will be a good boy, Mummy.” He cheekily told you.

You shifted around in your uncomfortable chair. This guy will be the death of you. Shaking your head at him, you went to fully focus on your work.

Adam seemed to struggle more with staying focused than you. His fingers drummed against your thigh, against the desk and all over your arm. He blew air against your ear, and played around with your hair. His legs kept bouncing around and he was constantly humming something. Adam took your one hand into his own, and played around with your fingers. He fiddled around with the rings in your fingers and he kept trailing his finger tip over your ring finger.

“..You have a hard time staying still?” You decide to ask Adam.

“Why the fuck do you ask?” He seemed defensive.

You just shrugged your shoulders, “Just wondering. I don’t mind, I can focus no matter how loud or busy it is.”

“Oh yeah? Why ask me to be quiet then?”

“…It’s hard to focus with you around. It semi works if you don’t talk.” It’s true, it’s just his looks and smell and everything that makes your head spin.

Adam grinned happily at that, “Babe, you just admitted that you find me soooo irresistible. Want me bad, huh?”

“I want to keep my scholarship more than anything.” You mumbled under your breath.

“Yeah, yeah. I fucking get it. It’s sexy that you’re such a hard worker. Means you also work hard to jump on this dick.”

“I don’t have to work hard for that.”

“You callin’ me a whore?” Adam asked with faux offence.

“I would describe you more as a slut.” You joke back at him.

Adam lifted your hand in his up to his fingers and lightly bit down on your bare ring finger. You wiggled your trapped finger around.

“At least you’re a loyal slut!” You tell him cheerily.

Adam laughed at your words. He kissed the back of your hand and moved his face towards your own. His lips locked with yours and he brushed his tongue against your soft lips.

“ ‘M totally your slut, baby.” He mumbled against your lips.

You snorted at that, pushing at his shoulders to create some space. Snickering into the air, you rested your forehead against his shoulder. His hands were on your waist, brushing all over your body.

“Dude, I really need to get the first draft done today.” You grumbled into his shirt.

“I’m here for emotional and sexual support, babe, go ahead and work.” Yeah, if this was so easy you’d be done already.

It took you longer than necessary to finish your first draft. Whenever you moved around to get new books, or put some away Adam always made sure to grope and slap your ass. He fumbled around with your shirt to get off as many buttons as possible, before you slapped his hand away. Occasionally he put his head on your lap, but you had to yank him away by his hair because he buried his face in between your legs. One time you dropped a book and when you crawled under the table he sleazily asked you if you were going to give him under desk support. Sometimes you wished he would drop dead.

After you were finally done, your head was basically smoking. Adam was happily drumming his fingers against his thighs, waiting for you to finish packing your things.

“I’m going to take you home, honeypot. There we can have some real fun.” Adam was basically beaming with excitement.

“Dude, no…I have to get some sleep in.” You also wanted to hide away and be alone with your thoughts.

“Shit. Fuck. Let me at least drive you home.” Adam grasped your packed bag into his hand.

Adam was getting bolder and bolder with his display of affection in public, which was kind off stressful regarding your ex is his drummer. You aren’t quite sure why you would want to protect Judas feelings. Maybe you just don’t want to be labeled as a slut.

Are you a slut?

Probably. It doesn’t matter in the end.

Adam dragged you into his side by your waist. His hand slipped into the back pocket of your jeans. At least the library was rather empty.

“How much longer am I going to be on your shit list for, baby? What can I do to have you forgive me?” He whispered in your ear.

Right. You told him you weren’t going to sleep with him because he pissed you off. You’re such a genius actually.

“Till my bruise is finally faded.” You pushed your cheap bracelets to the top of your arm to show the stubborn bruise which haunted your relationship with Adam.

“Shit. It’s still there?” Adan gently took your wrist into his hand, giving it a soft kiss. His finger marks were clearly imprinted on your skin, “I swear to you, my heart, this will never happen again. I am going to make sure you will be the happiest woman alive.”

You snorted sarcastically at that, “Alright. Whatever you say.”

“I’m being dead fucking serious.”

“You better be, because I’m going to murder you if do something like that ever again.” You ended up snapping at him, while yanking your bruised wrist out of his grasp.

Next time you were going to just not fuck a guitarist in a bathroom. It would save you a lot of heartache and trouble.

At least Adam really looked remorseful. He was also seemingly more aware of his strength, he’s much more careful with the way he handles you.

The rest of the walk to the car was uneventful. You talked Adam’s ear off about your work and he at least had the decency to nod his head and ask questions when it was appropriate. You were hoping to bore him to death with it, but he seemed genuinely interested in what you do. Or maybe he was a good actor? Judas on the other hand couldn’t care less about what you had to say, on any topic.

In the car Adam told you about his plans or lack of. He always gave you a glance when he said he is free all day Thursday and man, the weekend is going to be sooo boring with him alone. Totally not suspicious. You rolled your eyes at him while laughing.

Once Adam’s car stopped in-front of your home, you gave him a kiss. When you pulled away, he immediately yanked you back in to his mouth. Adam hummed against your lips,

“Text me, baby, alright?”

You nodded at him, with a soft voice you told him, “Of course. Thanks for driving me home, Adam.”

“Mmh, everything for my pretty slut.”

He does have to ruin most soft moments. Biting your tongue, you got out of the car and swung your bag over your shoulder. Unlocking the door, you waved at Adam who was watching you closely, and got into the ugly building. Walking up the stairs, you got into your apartment and threw yourself into your bed. FUCK.

A nap will be great.

———

Two cake transport boxes were in your hands, and your two companions on your sides were little help. Judas was begging right now, something about an oral exam and how he needed your notes for that. Bernadette on the other hand was talking your ear off about some new cowboy inspired club that opened and how you totally need to go there. Ugh.

You were a bit late. Usually you’re punctual, but you kind of overslept and then you had to go back because you forgot your baked desserts. With quick steps you walked towards the picnic tables and little grill stationed at the green campus. It was filled with the exorcists girls and Adam at the grill. Everyone was having obvious fun.

Bernadette shoved her phone into your face, causing you to nearly stumble and fall over. It took a bit to focus your eyes on the screen. A mechanical bull?

“Oh. Those are cool.” You simply told her. Finally reaching the table, you slammed down the boxes in front of Monica and Dymphna in exhaustion. Adam was watching you with curious eyes.

“You like riding the bull?” Bernadette asked you with a grin, her eyes wandering briefly towards Adam. The news of yours and Adam’s reconciliation was taken in differently by your friends.

Monica and Dy eagerly opened the boxes, taking a look at what you baked for them. They were supposed to bring something for this get together, but they were both horrible bakers and only self made things were allowed. They were lucky that you have been doing lots of stress baking. You couldn’t quite decide if you should lose weight, gain weight, gain muscles, have less muscles, be shorter, be taller. So! Baking!

“I don’t think you’re funny.” You told her with a glare.

“That’s okay, this is mostly for my own entertainment.” Bernadette shrugged your words off.

“Light of my life-“ Judas placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.” You immediately slapped his hand off of you.

“-I need your assistance for this. I am begging yooooouuuu!” His voice turned annoyingly whiny and high pitched.

“When’s your exam?” You sighed heavily.

“..10 minutes.”

“10-?!….You should pick a god to pray to. That’s the only thing that can help you now.”

“Ha Ha. Coming from the atheist. I just need to to take a look at your notes, I swear! Nothing more.” He had his hands clasped together.

“Does it look like I have any notes on me?!” You exploded at Judas, while gesturing wildly to your body. Besides the boxes, the only thing you had on you was a purse as big as your hand, “I can’t help you. You’re on your own.”

Monica was cutting open a bread roll, and placed some sauces, vegetables and meat in it.

While you and Judas continued to discuss the logistics of you driving home to send him your notes (it would take you at least 20 minutes and you don’t want to).

“What are you guys up to this weekend?” Bernadette asked her other friends, while listening to you and Judas.

“Oh! Oh! We are planning this romantic dinner and then-“ Dymphna excitedly told her dear friend.

“Well, I have decided we will go to the new club that opened. Girls get free entry and 50% off on drinks! We haven’t had a proper girls night in a while…Sorry you can’t take your new boo with you.” The last sentences from Bernadette was obviously addressed towards you, with the way she was wiggling her brows at you. She showed your friends the page of the club, and they were scrolling through the posts.

“You won’t help me out cause you got a new boyfriend? That’s cruel….. Who is it?”

“I- Okay- I’m going to go now,” You pointed at the mass of brownies, cake and cupcakes you baked, “I don’t want any leftovers, I can’t see that stuff anymore.”

Monica handed you the sandwich she had been making, extra for you, “Thank you again. Love you!”

“I love you more!” Dy tried to out do her girlfriend.

“I love you most!” Bernadette yelled out.

You took it and shoved the food into your mouth, while waving everyone goodbye. Avoiding eye contact with Adam and ignoring Judas questioning yells of who you are with, you made your way to the bus station. Someone called in sick so you sacrificed your free day to work.

Shit, you wanted to yell at Judas for giving Lucifer your number. Whatever, you have a feeling Judas won’t stay away for long.

Adam took a brownie from the tray, taking a bite from it, “Man, that’s some good shit.”

And you were so not going to that club.

———

Your pretty underwear was uncomfortable, pinching and rubbing. At least your bra was doing its job of pushing up. You might rock the look of a sexy cowgirl but you would prefer to just…Be at home how you planed.

Learning how to say no was now your priority.

Once you finally got in, after standing in the long line for god knows how long, you made your way into the club with your friends. Bodies against bodies, the music was blaring and the light was going to give you a headache. Man, this will be great.

It didn’t take long for you to lose sight of your friends. You decided to get something to drink. Pushing your way through people, you stumbled towards the bar and waited for someone to take your order.

“Heya! What a surprise to see you here!” Ugh. Judas.

You just grimaced at him.

“You want to share who your new-“

“Dude. Seriously. Drop it.” You waved him off.

Judas frowned, “Is it someone I know?”

“Ugh…By the way, what the fuck are you doing just giving my number out?”

“What? To who did I give your number again…?”

“Lucifer.”

“Luci… Oh! No, sweetie, I gave it to Lilith. She said you guys have some seminar together?”

Oh, they’re good. You will give them that.

Shaking your head at that, you decide to ignore Judas.

“Here, you can have the rest of my pack. Sorry for causing any inconvenience, bae.” Judas pressed a pack of cigarette into your hands in an attempt at an peace offering. He winked at you, grabbed his drink and walked off.

Finally the bartender came towards you, and for a second you blanked out completely.

“Can I get a uhh, fuck….Red russian?” You dug your nails into the wood of the bar.

Handing you your drink, the bartender asked if you wanted to open a tab. Thinking it over for a second, you decided against it. You gave him a bill and told him to keep the rest. Grasping the cold glass into your hand, you looked around for your friends. You felt someone bump against you roughly, and when you turned your head to look to your side you made eye contact with the prettiest doe eyes in the world.

Eve looked at you apologetic, her full, glossy lips opened to probably spew out apologies. She was shorter than you and in your mind, much much more beautiful too. A white dress adored her plump, soft body.

Before you could properly process your actions, you let your wrist lax and your red drink spilled on to her dress. It was quick enough to let it seem like it was because of her bumping into you.

Man you’re a bad person.

“I’m so sorry!”

“So sorry!”

You both called out at the same time. You grabbed some napkins and helped her clean up as best as you could. She thanked you and excused herself to go to the restroom. This will probably haunt you for the rest of your days. It was worth it though.

You drowned your drink down in one go. Usually you drink exactly 0 alcohol. The reason being you are a horrible lightweight, together with your meds causing you to get drunk even faster. The taste of liquor hit your tongue, a fire burning through your body. This is what you get for drinking on an empty stomach.

Placing the empty glass back down on the bar, you walked towards the mechanical bull. Finally you spotted your friends. And Adam. Adam and Lute chatting with your friends. You should have known he’d be there.

You joined them, Monica wrapped her arm around you. Your eyes were on the bull, a girl was on there right now. She was doing okay. It was very hot though, watching her hips move like that. Would you also look good like that?

“Are you thinking off getting on?” Lute asked you.

“I’m honestly considering it. It would just be embarrassing if I fall off right after a few seconds…” You said as you watched the girl tumble off, “I saw a girl do like, fucking stunts on this thing!”

“It’s really impressive. I will be cheering for you.”

“With those thighs? Babe, you’re going to crush that shitty robot!” Adam cheered you on.

Nobody else seemed to be getting in. Whatever, you were just going to blame it on the one drink you had. Liquor courage or maybe you’re just stupid and out to embarrass yourself. Hauling yourself into the area, you skill fully swung yourself on the bull.

Once you were comfortable sat and grasped the strap into your hand, you felt the bull start to shift around. It started slow, rocking back and forth. It started to speed up faster than you anticipated, throwing you around. You were sure one of your friends was filming this.

Adam and Lute kept true to their words, they were cheering you on. Hollering louder than anyone else. You couldn’t help but giggle at that.

In your mind you were doing good, looking sexy as fuck, in reality you probably looked like a fish out of water. Whatever, you were just going to live with your delusions. After a few more seconds you were thrown off, hitting the padded ground.

You quickly got up again, flipping your hair out of your face. With shaky knees you made your way back towards your friends and whatever you could classify Adam as.

“Baby! You were doing so well! Nearly broke the record.” Adam helped you back down, setting you down besides him.

“Thanks! It was pretty cool.” You giggled breathlessly.

Bernadette grasped your elbow into her dainty hand and pulled you towards her, “Girls night! Bye, Boo!”

And with that Bernadette yanked you and your friends towards the dance floor. It didn’t take long for you to split from them, making your way to the restroom. Fuck there was a line. Life is really the worst.

After painful minutes of you standing around, chatting with random drunk girls who you immediately fell in love with, starring at your phone screen and smiling at the cringe texts Adam sent you, you finally got in. Doing your business and taking your rings and bracelets off to wash your hands, it took you less time to do all that than standing around. Putting your rings back on, you shoved your bracelets into your jeans pocket. You didn’t want the other girls to wait for you to get finally done.

Getting out of the restroom, you tried to orient yourself. Maybe you should stoop just wandering off or maybe you should just stay home.

“Watch out!” A sultry, feminine voice called out towards you.

Someone pulled you to the side, at the right moment. A waiter tripped and spilled the tray of drinks everywhere. You can’t imagine getting that tray smashed into your head.

“Oh my god. Thank you so much.” You looked back to see a beautiful, tall blonde woman smile down at you. Oh no. She’s beautiful.

“Oh dear! That was close!” Lucifer commented, “Good call, Lili.”

Ah so that’s Lilith. Adam why couldn’t you have average looking exes? Does he want to send you back to therapy?

“It’s you! That’s Adam’s..Well.” Luckier trailed off, making some vague gestures with his hands.

“It’s me. The poor cashier you harassed.” You monotonously told him.

Lucifer spluttered around helplessly, trying to defend himself. Lilith on the other hand was checking you out.

“How is he?” She gently asked, her hand reassuringly brushing over Lucifers shoulder. Her wedding ring gleamed even in the low light.

“Good..?” You didn’t quite know what else to say.

In hindsight now, the waiter should have bashed your head in with that tray. That’s better than whatever you have going on here.

“That’s good..” Lilith nodded at you, “You know…I- We know how Adam can be. You’re always free to talk to any of us.”

You wondered who that us included exactly.

“I won’t need it.” You didn’t even bother smiling back at them, you just wanted to leave. Your hand moved to nervously fidget around with your necklaces. It was subtle, the way they eyed your wrist and winced slightly. Shit, that’s right. No bracelet. You quickly crossed your arms behind your back. You probably look shifty as fuck. Great.

“We are probably the last people you want to hear this from,” Lucifer gently started, and you mentally agreed with him.

“But Adam…You should stop seeing him. He’s controlling and has a temper, but I fear you already know that.” Lilith continued. She was searching for the right words. To not scare you off, so you would hear them out.

Lucifer eyes were focused on something behind you, “..And if that isn’t enough, he might not be quite over his last break up.”

You followed his gaze to see Adam stand a few good meters away from you. His body language was tense, clenched jaw and hands made into fists, but the more he talked to Eve the more he seemed to relax.

If there wasn’t such a long line for the restroom you’d probably go there to throw up.

You kind of tuned out whatever else L&L had to say, something about you being a rebound and deserving better. Yeah right. Do they think you’re stupid? Of course you know that Adam is only after your body.

You try to repress the fact that it still hurts.

Turning around on your heels, you walked away from the couple and the heart wrenching sight. Where to? Some uncoordinated steps lead you up the stairs, going straight towards the roof. Opening the door, you hoped that it wouldn’t lock you out. Oh wait, there’s a piece of wood. Jamming it in between door and door frame, you let yourself breath in some fresh air.

Should you be worried that you went through a ‘Staff Only’ door just like that?

Eh, you wouldn’t really care if they threw you out.

Rubbing your hands over your arms, you made the horrible realisation that it’s cold. Looking around, you decided to walk around the entrance, hiding behind the wall. Otherwise someone would immediately spot you.

Rummaging through your purse, you pulled out Judas cigarettes and your lighter. What else were you going to do? Lightening your cig and taking a drag, you tried to collect your thoughts.

Okay. Alright. Squatting on the ground, you rubbed your hands over your face.

So! You’re a rebound. Why are you even hurt? It’s not like you’re together (but why did he call himself your boyfriend?). Maybe he’s also a rebound! Who knows! Sighing into the cold night air, you knew that wasn’t true.

Could you do it? Could you ride this out for as long as possible? Until he gets back with Eve? Until he leaves you? You really didn’t want him to leave. You should really get your shit together, he’s just some guy who can fuck good and you lose all your self respect over him.

He just has you so captivated! You don’t even get why! This is horrible.

Besides, you should remember that Lilith and Lucifer are unreliable sources.

Ashing your cig, you took a look at the ground to see lots of cigarette buts around. So you stumbled upon someone’s smoking spot. Bless whatever fellow minimum wage workers come here to destress.

Should you just ignore your whole conversation with the married couple? Act like nothing happened? You were much calmer now. Taking your last drags, you put out your smoke by your feet. Carelessly throwing the bud away from you, you buried your face in between your knees.

You heard the door quietly open and close, causing you to tense up. Man some employee was going to kick you off now. Maybe you can evade them? Shuffling as quietly as possible around, you tried to peek behind the corner.

You didn’t see anyone? And there were no foot steps? Was it just the wind? Are you officially going to go crazy because of your situationship? What-fucking-ever, you were going to go back. Standing up, you shook out your legs. Let’s just act like the whole thing didn’t happen.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Adam’s seething voice called out to you.

“Oh my fucking-! Stop sneaking up on me!” You spun around, facing him.

“Answer me.” His eyes burned into you.

It took a second for your brain to catch up. You knew he meant you talking to his Sworn Enemies.

“I wasn’t doing anything.” You decided on saying.

Adam clicked his tongue unhappily at you, “Don’t play fucking stupid with me, woman. You should know your fucking place by now.” He was slowly coming closer.

Rolling your eyes at him, you tried to take a few breaths so you wouldn’t blow up at him. Your place? God you hate him.

“I don’t get what you fucking want from me.” You threw your hands up in despair, taking a few steps away from him, “You- You fucking try to control me and then you’re so nice to me! And! And then! You are so angry with me and I don’t even know what you fucking want from me! Then you say that you’re my boyfriend!? Stop treating me like your toy.”

“Toy?! As if you’re any fucking better! I try to make it so fucking clear what I want from you!” Adam flexed his hands in an aggregated fashion.

“Yeah! Be your rebound! Just..Leave me be.”

“What the hell are you yapping about?” Adam suddenly inhaled sharply, pinching his nose bridge, “Those fucking snakes…”

“It’s not them! I saw the nudes of Eve on your phone!” You stomped your feet at him.

“What fucking- You went through my phone?! Are you out of your damn mind?!” Adam stuttered around.

“You go through my phone all the time??” You were actually losing your mind. At least he was right with one thing.

“That’s fucking different!” Adam went through his hair with his hand.

“How is it different exactly?” You dug your nails into your palms.

“Well, first off. I’m the guy-“

“Oh my god…” You interrupted him.

All you could do is laugh at this whole situation. Adam frowned at you.

“Baby, let’s not be like that. Cmon, tell me what you talked about with those assholes.” Adam tried to catch flies with honey now. Ugh.

“I actually think we should talk about you not being over Eve.” You loved poking the bear actually.

“I am over that betraying whore! Why else would I run after you?!” He was slowly but surely reaching his limit with you. Ha Ha.

“Yeah right. Why keep those pictures then?” Does he think you’re that stupid?

“I forgot I even had them.” He mumbled out guilty.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Yeah right.”

“What does it fucking matter to you? You’re the one still being best buds with damn Judas.”

“I was scolding him for giving my number to Lucifer!”

“Oh.” Adam rubbed his neck, carefully eyeing you, “You have a really interesting way of asking what we fucking are.” He tried to change the topic.

You scoffed at him. He’s so annoying.

Part of you isn’t surprised that Adam kept those pictures and even the video. It wasn’t for blackmail purposes, that you were sure off. It was for the same reason Adam reacts so violently towards Lucifer, as if it happened yesterday.

Adam has never let go of anything that ever happened to him.

That realisation quietly hit you. He hangs on to wrong doings from the past, which shouldn’t matter anymore. But they dedicate his every step. He fuels himself with spite and the knowledge that he is supposedly better than them.

You blinked at Adam, softly exhaling. The fury has left your body.

“That’s okay. I now know what we are.”

Adam looked at you confused and when he saw you turn around to leave, panic filled his body. He lunged forward, grasping your shoulder in his hand and spinning you around.

“You don’t know shit. Don’t leave. I will delete everything. Every picture, every video, every contact you don’t like. I will do it all…Just don’t leave.” Adam gently cupped your face into his big hands. His eyes were pleading.

“..You don’t even know me. I don’t get you.” You whispered. Adam’s eyes were searching yours. You weren’t quite sure what he was looking for.

“You’re such a bitch. You really don’t remember? And I always thought you were fucking ignoring me on purpose…” Adam leaned his head forward, brushing his nose against yours. He quickly pulled away again, not wanting to get distracted by you.

You simply furrowed your brows in confusion at him.

Adam pressed you against his chest now, leaving soft kisses at the top of your head. You simply let your arms hang at your side, you don’t want him to think he’s forgiven.

“You remember those compulsory course in theology we had to do during freshmen year?” He mured against your ear.

You don’t actually. To your own defence you don’t remember much before your college sophomore year. It was all successfully repressed, tucked away somewhere where it would hopefully not come to haunt you. You do remember your friends saying you were a huge bitch during freshmen year. Why they still wanted to befriend you is a huge mystery to you still.

You didn’t quite know how to be a person back then.

Shaking your head carefully, you let Adam continue his story.

“We were in the same course. Got put into a project together, just us. Fuck, you were a real cunt. Constantly fighting with me over everything. A honest to god know it all. Then you also had the audacity to critique my music taste? Told me that I need to listen to music outside of Daddies sphere.” He laughed into your hair at the memory, while you were embarrassed by your past self.

“Mmh, we talked a lot about music. Mostly you making recommendations and me being mad that they were actually good. One time I threatened you with my mother, which just confused you. It was weird to know that you didn’t know who I was. I was just an annoying, sexy, nobody in your eyes.”

That’s right, his mother is the chancellor of the weird private, christian college you both go to. To be honest you only found that out from your friends, who told you after you hooked up with Adam. You live behind the moon or something.

“You like me because I was mean to you? You are a real masochist.” You mumbled against his shirt.

“Only for you, baby! I had such a hard time getting ahold of you? And then you turned up with fucking Judas and god I wanted to kill him. You changed, too. You’re happier. I like that. It suits you.” Adam had his arms wrapped around you.

You finally lifted your own arms, to hug Adam back.

“I don’t want you to be a rebound. I want you to be my fucking…girlfriend. The whole package. I want everyone to know we are together, I want to leave fucking hickeys on your neck, I want you to come to me whenever you’re sad or- or mad or when you have a problem. I want you to yell and scream at me, to punch me and bite me, be as mean as you want, baby. I need to be with you. Please?” Adam was now holding you infront of him, still close of course. You don’t think you have seen him this vulnerable before. His hands were shaky.

“You don’t have to answer now-“ He tried to deflect, he was pulling back.

“I want that too! It’s just..You can’t keep doing that. I can’t be with you, if you let the past control you like that. Yelling at me won’t be good, for either of us. You have to talk to me like I’m your equal, not your possession.” You told him with teary eyes, “This can’t work if we both keep being so angry.”

Adam nodded at your words, and sighed, “Yeah, yeah. We can totally work on that together though!” He pressed you against himself again.

“I don’t think you want to be with me.”

“Why fucking not? Just cause you’re a bit crazy? Don’t you know about the Hot-Crazy scale, babe?”

“Well…You won’t meet my parents for one.”

Adam shrugged at that, “That’s good news.”

“And it’s not just freshmen year that I don’t really remember. It’s everything before that too.” It felt shameful to confess this.

Adam’s hand brushed over the back of your head, “That bad, huh? That’s okay with me, baby.”

“My friends are my family now, though. So you have to be nice to them. They…Fuck. They forced me into therapy and still pay for my meds.” You wanted to hide away.

“Mmh, I can pay for your meds. I can pay for everything.” He buried his nose into your hair.

“Yeah, no. I don’t want you to waste your money on me.”

“ ‘S not wasted if I spend it on you.” Adam tilted your head, looking into your eyes.

“You’re going to start sucking my dick again?” He breathlessly asked you.

“Dunno. Let’s delete the folder and we will see how I feel.” You told him with an eye roll.

Adam immediately whipped out his phone and went with you through his gallery.

“I can’t actually believe that girls just send those to you.” You have never seen so many tits in one night.

“What can I say? Bitches love me. You have lots of competition.” He snickered at his own bad joke.

Once he saw how unhappy you looked, he immediately tried to back track.

“You’re so funny, Adam. How about some more weeks of celibacy?” Your voice dripped with sarcasm.

“NO! You know my dick gets only hard for you. Don’t be like thaaatt.” He was whining.

“Pft. Now, delete everything out of deleted folder so it’s gone for good.”

“Yes ma'am. Any contacts that need to go too?”

“..How about we block Eve?” You asked carefully.

Adam snorted at that, “Sure, if you bock Judas.”

“Deal.” You both shook hands and exchanged phones, you blocked Eves from his and Adam blocked Judas from your phone.

“..What do you have in your hidden folder?” You asked Adam, finger hovering over it.

“Fucking nothing!” He quickly tried to get his phone out of your hand. You were quicker, hiding it behind your back.

“Adam, seriously?” You really shouldn’t have trusted him after all. What of Eve is in there?

“Fuck. Don’t look at me like that. I will show you, if you promise to be open fucking minded.” He grumbled unhappily.

You nodded carefully at him, handing him back his phone.

Adam nervously unlocked the folder, watching you closely for your reaction.

Your mouth fell open in shock, “That’s me! It’s all me. Why is it me?”

You looked at Adam for answers, but he was too busy hiding his face from you. Focusing back on his phone, you saw the screenshots and screen recordings of old as dirt social media posts. Did he black out Judas face? That’s kind of funny.

“You took a picture of me sleeping?!” You zoomed in on that picture.

It must have been when you first slept over at Adam’s place. You were passed out on his chest, and you could see the proud grin on his face.

“Enough now!” He snatched his phone out of your hand. His face was burning in embarrassment.

Some sick part of you felt flattered. You don’t think anyone has ever been so into you.

“The most fucking important thing we need to decide on, babe, is this. Is today our anniversary or when I bend you over the sink in the bathroom?” His mouth was near your ear, whispering seductively into. Ah, he was trying to distract you.

“Of course you would remember the day we first fucked.” You giggled at him.

Adam smashed his lips into your own, to shut you up. He herded you against the wall, pressing against you with his much larger body. His hands rested on your hips, rubbing circles into the flesh.

“There’s one thing I want to ask off you.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Whatever you want, my heart.” He moved to kiss your jaw and neck. When he said he wants to leave hickeys on your neck he really meant it, huh?

“Let’s, uh, keep our relationship on the down low first. I need to be the one who tells Judas about us. Ah, Adam. Since he kind off hates yoooouuuu.” Adam’s hand wandered over your clothed pussy while you talked, rubbing you through your jeans.

“Ugh, that asshole. Fuck, that reminds me…Baby, babe, you want our relationship to be based on honesty, right?”

Do you really? You carefully agreed with him.

“If I promise not to harass Judas over having the better dick, I need you to promise me to stay with me after I tell you this.” He looked into your eyes, his tongue was nervously wetting his lips.

“Oh god, what did you do? Did you fuck another girl? I can excuse that by saying we weren’t officially together.” You were a bit scared.

“What? Fuck no. There’s only you, baby.” Adam looked at you irritated.

He took your face into his hands and squished your cheeks together. That seemed to cheer him up, with the way he grinned at you.

“So…Where to start? Mmh, baby, you know how Judas was always running his mouth about you?”

You nodded carefully at him.

“It was actually kept strictly confidential aaalll in the band. How I hate that guy. Living my dream of getting to fuck you, to be with you? And he acted so fucking ungrateful. I kept just thinking if only that was me. Tell me, baby, who told you about what was Judas saying about you?” He seemed happy with it all.

“Monica and Dy…?” It sounded more like a question than a proper answer.

“Yeah, it took three fucking training sessions for them to listen in to me and Lute. We talked extra loud around them too! Gossiping bitches..”

It took you a few seconds for your brain to connect everything.

“..Let me get this straight..You let it leak through that Judas was shit talking me to my friends, so that they would tell me and I would break up with him?…All that work just to fuck me?”

That’s actually kind off hot of him but it’s best if he doesn’t know you are into this. Otherwise who knows what he would do.

“Not just to fuck. To keep you to myself. You’re all mine now, aren’t you? So it was all fucking worth it.”

He seemed like an apex predator to you. His big body, strong arms and legs. You were at practice a few times, you saw him in action. He’s like a beast. And the way he always grinned at you? He was going to eat you whole.

You pulled Adam’s face into your own by the his shirt. Both your lips collided into each other. Adam grabbed your ass, squeezing and groping as much as he could.

“You have been crushing on me for how long now? We are at the end of our Junior year after all.” You couldn’t help but giggle out in between kisses.

“Shut uuupp.” Adam buried his face into the crock of your neck. He had to bend awkwardly down for that.

“Adam, love.” You softly called out to him.

“What? Want to make fucking fun of me some more?” He rubbed his hands over your hips and back.

“You don’t wanna consummate your new relationship with me?” You gently played with his hair while speaking.

Adam immediately straightened his back, looking at you with raised brows, “Don’t mess with me, baby. My balls are arching for some relief. You want me to bend you in half on this roof?”

“Please?” You looked up at him, batting your eye lashes.

Adams lips immediately attached to your neck, licking and sucking marks into the sensitive skin. He reached out to unbutton your jeans, shoving his hands into your wet panties. He let his finger explore your pussy freely. Stroking through your folds, rubbing at your clit.

Your hand was in Adam’s hair, tugging gently at the soft strands. Your other hand went towards his shoulder, digging your nails into the shirt he was wearing. Adam entered his finger into your wet pussy, pressing his palms against your clit.

“Take off your shirt.” He mumbled into your neck, lifting his head.

You quickly reached towards your shirt, pulling it off over your head. Carelessly throwing it on to the floor, you let Adam admire your body.

Your arms came up to cross over yourself, self consciousness eating away at you.

Adam’s one hand easily wrapped around both of your wrists and he pinned them against the wall over your head.

“My poor, little baby. How could I ever let you think anyone is prettier than you? You’re so precious to me.” Adam pressed his forehead against yours. His voice was barley above a whisper.

His ring finger pressed against your entrance, slowly stretching you open. Your mouth opened and let out a helpless moan. Adam took the opportunity to shove his tongue down your throat.

He scissored you open, slowly but surely. His palm pressed more against your clit, causing your hips to grind against it. Shit. Fuck. Hot pleasure washed over your body. Damn Adam and the effect he has over your body.

“You going to cum all over my fingers? You like when I fuck you up with them? Yeah? I have to, babe, otherwise I’d split you in half.” He mumbled out in the air.

When you strained your wrists against his hold, he tightened his grip. He pressed your wrists down against the wall more.

“Adaaam. Need you bad. Faster! Please?” You whined out, begging for more.

“How about you beg some more? You were pretty mean to your boyfriend earlier.” He seemed very happy to call himself your boyfriend.

He buried his nose into the valley of your breast. Leaving more marks on your skin.

“Uggghh. My…Fuck!..My fingers can’t reach as far as yours. I neeeeeed you Adam. Can’t get off without you. Please faster?” You looked at Adam with pleading, teary eyes.

“That’s what Daddy likes to hear.” He murmured into the fat of your breasts.

He sped up the motions of his fingers. Rubbing against the sensitive spot inside of you. He knows your body better than you at this point. He made the come hither motions with his finger’s you loved so much, you moaned out for Adam.

You wrangled your wrists more against Adam’s grip. The pleasure was overwhelming you. Before you knew it you clamped down on Adam’s fingers while cuming around them. Adam helped you ride out your orgasms. He gently removed his fingers.

Adam gave you a quick kiss, before he kissed down your body. He kneeled down in front of you now, tugging your jeans down.

“Damn it, again with those fucking shoes.” Adam cursed, while he untied them for you.

You giggled at him and buried your hands in his hair. Messing his hair up. Adam grumbled at you, but he also didn’t stop you. He helped you out of the shoes and out of your jeand and panties.

When you tried to cross your legs, Adam immediately placed his big hands on your thighs to keep them apart.

“Fuck, I missed this pussy. Can’t believe you kept us apart.” Adam’s lip immediately attached to your clit.

You threw your head back, sobbing at the overwhelming feeling. Adam moved so he put your leg over his shoulder. The noises of his slurping filled the air, together with your moans.

Adam moved so he could wiggle his tongue inside of you, taking in as much as your slick as possible. Shit. He wrapped his lips around your pussy lips, gently tugging.

“Adam! Don’t be mean.” You moaned out while yanking on his hair.

Adam chuckled and went back to your clit. Drawing patterns into your clit with his tongue.

You held on to Adam’s hair, to grind your pussy on to his face. Desperately trying to get off, using Adam for your own pleasure. He didn’t seem to mind that much, you could tell from the raging boner in his pants. His heavy dick strained against his zipper.

You can’t wait for him to fuck you again.

Covering your face with your arm, you felt your toes curl as you came all over Adam’s face. Through your hazy mind you were sure you heard him mumble ‘Fuck Yeah’. He licked you clean, while you came down from your high.

Adam sat down on the floor and pulled you down with him. You gasped in surprise, while he sat you down on his lap. He turned so he could rest his back against the wall, while he unzipped his pants. Adam freed his hard dick from his pants,

“I need you to ride my like you rode that bull. That was hot as fuck. Could have busted a nut from the sight alone.” Adam rubbed his tip against your entrance.

You nodded at Adam. Taking in some breaths, you let yourself slide down his thick dick. Adam grasped your hips in his hand, holding on to you.

“Ah, shit. Great fucking sight. Your pussy is the best in the game, baby.” Adam grunted out. He had to hold himself back from fucking into you.

You reached towards your tits, moving so they spilled out of your bra. Pinching your nipples and rolling your hips into Adam’s. He gripped your hips tighter, helping you grind down on to him.

“How bout we do some of this?” Adam asked you.

He moved your hips in a similar fashion the bull did. You gasped at that, letting your head fall forward on to his shoulder. Moving your head to the side, your lips found themselves at home around Adam’s neck. If he can cover you in hickeys so can you.

Adam’s eyes were focused on your pussy. He watched you mesmerised, like he couldn’t believe this was truly happening.

“You need to fucking relax your pussy, baby. You’re dripping all over my pants.” Adam laughed breathlessly at that, he didn’t actually seem mad at that, “You like creaming around my dick?”

“Love it.” You mumbled out.

All you could think about was Adam’s dick rubbing into you, his hands on you and his grunts and moans.

Adam planted his feet on to the ground, and started to fuck in to you. You threw your head back, holding on to Adam’s shoulders. He let his hand wander form your hips toward your pussy, massaging your clit.

Your mouth fell open, you could feel another orgasm approach. While you recognised that feeling, it felt unfamiliar at its core. The pressure quickly build up in your abdomen. You bit your lips.

“You close? Wanna come with you. Need to flood your fucking womb, baby. Want me to breed you real good?” Adam moaned out, his brows were furrowed and he sped up his fingers against your clit.

“Adam! Feels weird. Shit! Please cum inside..” You sobbed out, pleasure clouding your mind.

“Feels weird..? Shit, this going to be fucking goooOOod. Cmon, baby, you gotta let go. Let go for me and I promise ‘M going to make you feel so damn good.” Adam growled out.

He fucked into you even rougher, his movements losing their rhythm. It didn’t really matter, you followed Adam’s instructions blindly. Letting go felt weird, it felt both wrong and amazing.

Before you realised it, you were gushing all around Adam’s dick. Squirting all over his pants wasn’t on your bingo card for today, but so wasn’t fucking with Adam on a roof.

You hid your face in Adam’s neck, shame burned through you.

Adam came inside of you, pumping his load into your waiting hole.

“Sorry! So sorry!” You couldn’t stop yourself, tears started to flow down your cheeks.

You clutched Adam’s crumbled shirt into your hands, sobbing into his neck.

“Shit. Don’t cry, lovely. That was the hottest thing I have ever seen. I made you fucking squirt? Holy shit. My dick that good, baby?” He soothingly ran his hands over your back.

You simply shrugged your shoulders at him. Sobs still wracked your body. Adam hummed some random song tune, his hand brushing over your hair.

It took a few good minutes for you to calm down, “..That was so embarrassing..” You whispered into the cold night air.

“In what world do you fucking live in? From now on, you need to squirt all over my dick every time we fuck. It’s good for my ego, baby, I swear.” He gently nuzzled his nose against your wet cheek.

“Unless you want to go another round, I need you to hop off my dick now, babe.” Adam gently told you.

You lifted your hips up, his half hard dick slipping out of you, together with a flow of his cum. Moving your hands to properly put on your bra again, you rubbed your hands over your face. Trying to wipe away the rest of your tears.

Adam fumbled around to put his dick away. Hearing you sniffle, he reached out to gently hold your face in his hands.

“I swear to you, you’re the hottest person alive in my eyes. There’s nothing you could do to change that. Yeah?” Adam reassured you.

You simply nodded at him. Adam reached around and took your shirt into his hands. He carefully helped you slip it back on. Getting up on weak knees, you picked up your panties and jeans. Getting re-dressed on a roof sure made you question your life choices.

Adam is your boyfriend now. That sure was a turn. Maybe not. He does talk a lot about getting you pregnant. Maybe it goes beyond being a kink.

You heard Adam curse, turning to look at home while zipping up your pants you saw him brush over his pants unhappily. The wet spot from you was placed right on Adam’s crotch. At least he’s wearing black jeans, it hid it somewhat.

“Looks like I fucking pissed myself! Fucking great. We gotta sneak out of here.”

“It won’t be noticed in the club, the light is shitty there. We just gotta avoid the girls, they’re going to have my head for leaving without you.”

“Yeah, baby, shit like that goes against girl code!” Adam gave your forehead a kiss, “Let’s get fucking going.”

You both sneaked back into the club, and you made sure to avoid everyone you knew. Adam was right behind you, with his hand on your lower back. Leaving the club, you looked at Adam questioningly.

“Uhh, I was planning on getting wasted so Lute drove. Let me get an Uber real quick..” Adam reached for his phone.

“It’s like a 10 minute walk to your home. Let’s go!” You tugged on Adam’s arm towards his home.

He groaned, but still followed you.

“..What did the evil blondes talk with you about?”

“Uhh, something about you being controlling and they hinted at you still loving Eve.”

“Those lying motherfuckers-“ Adam pulled you towards him.

[joonie-beanie]

Side-Gig | [Peter B. Parker x Reader]

Pairing: Peter B. Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter gets worried about your apparent “side-gig” and goes snooping, only to discover your side-gig is writing Spiderman smut on commission.

Contents: Fluff, Smut, Consensual Sex, Pussy Eating, Banter, Friends to Lovers???

Author’s Note: I swore off posting fics on tumblr, but since this is just a one-shot, I figured why not. I think Peter B is charming, had to write a lil smth smth for him. And by that, I mean a 7.1k wordcount fic.

You and Peter Parker are friends. Not best friends, but pretty good friends. 

You like to say you’ve looked out for each other over the years. You don’t talk all the time, but it’s kind of an unspoken promise that when one of you needs someone to lean on, the other person will be there.

Which is why, when Peter and MJ separate, you make a point of inviting Peter over for meals. 

At first, he turns you down every time you ask, and you know it’s because he’s wallowing—depressed about his situation. And that’s understandable. You can’t exactly say you know what he’s feeling, but if you put yourself in his shoes, you’re sure you’d be a little bit fucked up about everything too.

Therefore, you give him a little space—wait for things to settle and for Peter to come around. 

Except, Peter takes it all way worse than you expect—going radio silent after your third invite in two months. Then, you really start to get worried (and also a little mad that he’s ghosting you).

So, you manage to scrounge up his new address using some internet-sleuthing skills, and show up at his door. When he opens it, he’s dressed in a greasy wife-beater, worn-out gray sweats, and white socks with a hole in the toe.

“Jesus Christ, Peter.”

You spend that evening scolding Peter and letting him cry it all out—handing him tissue after tissue as he blubbers about everything on his mind. When he’s finally done, he apologizes for ignoring your last call, and thanks you for looking out for him.

With a smile, you assure him you’ll always have his back, and that now he really has to come over for dinner, because he owes you.

Laughing, Peter agrees. And luckily, he sticks to his word.

Since then, you and Peter make a point of doing dinner twice a month—typically at your place, sometimes out at a restaurant, but never at Peter’s. Not until he deep cleans his messy apartment, and you know that won’t be happening anytime soon.

Tonight, you’re at a restaurant of your choice—a local Italian joint. Peter arrives late, per normal, and you wave him over when you see him walk in the front door. He immediately spots you and hurries over, his eyes darting to the plate of bruschetta you’d ordered for the table, that now only has two pieces left.

“Aw, that’s not fair,” he says, sliding into the booth across from you. He immediately reaches for one, shoving it into his mouth. You shrug, not sorry.

“That’s what you get for always being late. And if I waited for you, I’d be hangry by now. So really, you should be thanking me.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter says with a roll of his eyes, picking up the menu to see what it is he wants. 

“So, how have you been? I know we just saw each other two weeks ago, but—how’s work?”

You sigh at Peter’s question, resting your chin against your palm.

“Fine, I guess. Work is cutting hours since things are slow right now, so I’m gonna be pretty strapped for cash the next month or two.”

Peter blinks at your response, staring at you over the edge of the menu.

“Should we be here then? We could just get the check now and go down the street to the bodega—”

“No—no, it’s fine,” you reassure him, taking a sip from your glass. From the look of it, Peter can tell the glass is filled with rum and coke—your simple, yet timeless go-to. 

“This is kind of my last hurrah, y’know? Gotta get one last plate of carbonara in before I’m eating ramen and eggs for the next few months.”

“I dunno about that,” Peter responds. “Eggs are pretty expensive now—you might have to settle for canned tuna.”

You roll your eyes at him, yet can’t help the little giggle that escapes you.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know,” he says with a smile.

The waitress wanders back over, and you and Peter put in your orders. Peter also opts to get a drink (after all, if you’re drinking, why shouldn’t he), and a few minutes later, a cosmopolitan is placed onto the table in front of him.

You watch him with a wide smile as he picks up the girly drink and takes a long sip—his pinky sticking out and everything.

“You and your love of sweet drinks,” you say, swirling around the ice in your half-empty glass. Peter hums happily.

“Listen, this is way better than beer.”

Honestly, you can’t disagree.

“So,” he continues, picking up the previous topic. “Are you gonna be okay? Money-wise?”

It’s not like he has much help to offer. Being a masked vigilante doesn’t pay very well, after all, but still.

“Yeah,” you assure him. “I have a side-gig that brings in a little cash-flow, so that’ll help cushion the blow. But I think I should still be able to afford rent and some groceries. I’ll just have to budget better, y’know?”

Peter nods. “Oh, okay. Good—,” but then his brain repeats the phrase “side-gig”, and his words cut off.

“Wait, what kind of side-gig are we talking about here?”

Despite how long the two of you have known each other, Peter has never heard anything about any kind of “side-gig”. It’s a little concerning, honestly, since the two of you don’t really keep secrets from each other.

Although it’s not like you know he’s Spiderman.

“Yeah. It’s nothing illegal, I promise,” you tell him, your attitude remaining pleasant. Peter stares at you, waiting for you to say more, but your smile only grows wider.

“Not telling,” you say, laughing quietly to yourself when Peter huffs in annoyance and grabs his drink. “You’ll just have to trust me. I’d never do anything illegal—you know me.”

“I dunno,” he responds, a playful lilt in his tone. “In college I seem to remember you stealing soft drinks from the mess hall without paying—”

“Oh c’mon,” you shoot back, and Peter grins, knowing you hate when he brings that up. “We were already paying to go to classes! Why should I pay 3 dollars for a cup of watered down coke?!”

Peter laughs as you go on a mini tangent about how college is a ripoff—ordering both you and him two more drinks when your waitress stops in to check on your table.

After a short while, your food comes out, and the two of you catch up over the hot meal. Conversation flows like normal—touching on any other life updates, and also local news topics, and things of the like. 

At your insistence, Peter splits a tiramisu with you to close out the evening, and by the time the dessert is gone, Peter thinks he may explode.

“Ugh, why did I let you talk me into that?” Peter groans, curling over and holding his stomach as you fetch enough cash from his wallet to cover half the bill.

“Well, if you were smart like me, you would have kept half of your entree to take home with you for later, and then you would have had enough room left for dessert. Which, by the way, is too good to waste—so don’t puke it up.”

Your waitress swings by to grab the bill, and you assure her it’s all set—passing her the small stack of money taken from both your and Peter’s wallets. She thanks you with a smile, and then scurries away, leaving the two of you alone.

You reach over the table, patting Peter’s shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. Your stomachs gotten bigger, after all.”

“Hey—,” Peter frowns, lifting his head. You’re already grabbing your purse and takeout box—sliding out of the booth. He quickly follows after you.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No,” you respond, holding the door open for him as the two of you step out into the cool New York air. “You’re actually still surprisingly in-shape for someone whose diet consists of pizza and frozen meals. But, that being said, you can’t deny you’ve put on a few pounds.”

Peter places a hand on his stomach.

“Remind me again why you’re so mean to me?”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound getting lost in the crowd around you.

“You just make it too easy,” you admit, grinning up at him. Despite himself, Peter smiles back.

Being the gentleman that he is, Peter fully intends to escort you back to the doorstep of your apartment building, but—

His spidey senses tingle, and he can tell something is off. 

“Hey, um,” Peter grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. Before your brain can even catch up, he’s yanking you into a quick hug, and then backpedaling towards the alleyway the two of you had just passed.

“Sorry, I just remembered there’s something I have to do. It was nice seeing you! Let’s touch base soon!”

He’s gone before you can even get a word out, disappearing around the corner. You stare after him for a moment, befuddled, and then continue on your way with a sigh. 

Same ‘ol Peter.

Exactly one hour later, Peter collapses in a pile of trash—his lungs heaving, and body aching. The fight itself hadn’t been that hard—just a few wannabe criminals with deadlier than normal weapons. 

No, the real challenge had been not barfing up his dinner while doing acrobatics across the city.

And maybe laying in a pile of trash to take a breather isn’t exactly helping his current predicament, but fuck—he doesn’t have the energy to move right now

Spreading out his limbs, Peter stares up at the smog-coated night sky, his mind wandering. He thinks about a lot of things—all the villains he’s fought in his time as Spiderman, the people who have come in and out of his life during it all, including you. You…who apparently has a “side-gig”.

…but like, what kind of side-gig?

Peter groans, knowing he won’t be able to let this go. 

You can’t just drop the knowledge that you have a secret side-gig on him and then not tell him what it is! 

And if you’re insistent on keeping it a secret, it must be something bad, right? RIGHT??

“Goddammit,” he grumbles, picking himself up. He swings off into the night, his mind reeling.

Peter lasts all of 3-days before he decides he can’t be left alone with his thoughts anymore—that he just needs to confirm what exactly your side-gig is, before his theories can get any wilder.

Because so far, his top guesses are that you’re either 1. Unknowingly acting as a middle man for some illegal trafficking operation, or 2. Providing “services” to New York sleazebags to get in their wallets.

And Peter knows it’s likely neither option—you’re too smart to get roped into something stupid. Plus, you had assured him it was nothing illegal.

But if he doesn’t figure it out, he thinks he may explode. 

So…he goes snooping. 

It’s not his brightest moment—using the spare key you had given him “in case of emergency” to sneak into your apartment one evening. (But to be fair, to him…this might just be an emergency).

He’d used his spidey senses to scope out your apartment before coming in, so he knows you're not home. Which is good, but…he doesn’t know when you’re gonna be back either, so he has to move fast.

Softly closing the front door behind him, Peter tip-toes across your apartment, deciding to start in your bedroom. He stands in the doorway for a moment, guilt bubbling up inside of him, but he decides to push forward anyway.

He’s just making sure you’re okay, he tells himself. You’re one of his closest friends, and you won’t tell him your secret—so it’s understandable he’d be worried.

Like the true Sherlock that he is, Peter starts with you dressers. He quickly checks each drawer—gently lifting up the stacks of clothes to make sure nothing is hidden beneath them. (The only time doesn’t is when he encounters the drawer with your bras and panties. He simply stares at them with flushed cheeks, rocking awkwardly on his heels, before he quietly closes the drawer. Surely nothing would be in there anyway, right?)

The small stack of papers on your nightstand ends up being recent receipts, and a manual on how to use the white noise machine you've apparently just purchased, considering it's sitting on the floor beside your nightstand, still in the box.

Getting on his hands and knees, Peter does a quick check under your bed, and freezes when he spots a covered box. He pulls it out without thinking, tugging off the fabric lined lid—

—and immediately slams it back down.

…veiny, pink, silicon—

Peter haphazardly pushes the box back under the bed, hurrying to his feet. He bustles into the kitchen with cherry-colored ears.

All-in-all, it takes Peter about half an hour to search your apartment, and unfortunately…he comes up empty handed. It seems like you have nothing to hide (except a box of sex toys under your bed, but Peter thinks that’s pretty understandable. You don't want dumb assholes like him accidentally finding it, even though Peter had—)

Sighing, Peter takes one last glance around your apartment.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have done this,” he sighs to himself, taking a step towards the door. But—not watching where he’s going, he stubs his toe into the leg of your coffee table.

A curse leaves his lips, and your opened laptop—which had previously been dark—jolts to life. Kicking the table must have moved your wireless mouse, Peter realizes.

Having already decided to leave, Peter fully intends to continue on his way. That is…before he takes a glance at your computer screen and sees that you have it open to a Google doc titled: “Spiderman x Reader Commission #6”.

…then, he’s scrambling onto your couch and yanking your laptop towards him.

“Number six??” he hisses dramatically, his eyes scanning over the document so fast that he doesn’t actually end up reading anything. 

He has to pause and go back to try again, but the second Peter reads the sentence “Spiderman’s cock strains painfully against the tight confines of his suit, his fingers twitching against your waist as he drags you in closer”, his brain effectively blue screens.

In a panic, he clicks into a different tab that’s open—landing on your email inbox, where a thread sits open. A transaction between you and an apparent “customer”. Someone who had contacted you in regards to your open “commissions”. 

Hi there! 

I saw you’re accepting commissions, and I really enjoyed reading the other Spiderman fics you wrote! Would you be open to writing one for me? Preferably a Reader x Spiderman, and a smut/fluff genre. Based on the rate sheet, I think I can afford it, but I’d appreciate it if we could talk more and discuss the final price based on the idea I have.

Thanks!

Holy shit, Peter realizes. Your side-gig is writing Spiderman porn on commission.

He sinks back into the couch, his mind whirling. 

How long has this been going on?? Do you…are you attracted to Spiderman?? As long as Peter has known you, you’ve never really fangirled over Spiderman. If Spiderman had popped up in the news, the two of you would talk about him, but…that was it.

And now you’re writing Spiderman smut for cash? Holy hell.

Peter supposes he should be relieved that what you’re doing truly isn’t illegal. That you’re just making money in a mostly innocent way, from the safety of your home. Meaning, Peter can call it quits, and leave.

…but instead, he leans forward, clicks back onto the Google doc tab, and starts reading more.

The document is still a work-in-progress, but Peter scrolls back up to the top, wanting to see how you’ve managed to set up this scenario.

As it turns out, a villain had injected Spiderman with some sort of aphrodisiac, and the reader is a bystander, bravely offering Spiderman her services to get him out of this pickle.

While embarrassing to admit, Peter gets sucked into the story—impressed by your ability to write, and your portrayal of him—err, Spiderman. In fact, he gets so distracted by the story and the multitude of thoughts running through his head that his spidey senses don’t kick in until danger is right on his doorstep.

Or, in reality, you are on your doorstep—your key shoving into the lock on the door. 

Peter’s heart nearly rockets out of his chest, his eyes darting to the window across the room. It’s closed, and even if he used his web shooter to rocket over to it, he wouldn’t be able to safely open the window and escape outside in the two seconds it’s going to take you to finish unlocking your do—

Before he can even finish the thought, your front door shoves open, and you flick on the lights—your gaze immediately finding Peter, who is still firmly planted on your couch, looking like a deer in headlights. 

You stare at him in shock.

“Peter? What…? Why are you here?”

“I was…worried about you,” Peter responds, forcing himself to smile. And it’s not like it’s a lie.

“You said you were strapped for cash, and I…I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

You kick the door shut behind you, your purse and keys discarded on the small table beside your entryway. 

“I thought I told you to just trust me?”

You face him with a hand posed sternly on your hip. You appreciate his concern for you, but it’s a little upsetting that he hadn’t just been able to trust your word. 

“I know,” Peter responds with a sigh. He runs a hand through his graying hair, and your gaze flits to his ears, noticing how red they are. Why is he so flushed?

“And I’m sorry. I’m dumb, I should have. Trusted you, I mean. I’ll just—,” he pushes himself up, planning to excuse himself and run, but freezes half way to his feet. 

He’s half hard. Fuck.

If he gets up now, it’ll be a lot harder to hide that—especially since he’s wearing sweatpants.

Making a lil noise, Peter eases himself back down onto your couch. You cock an eyebrow.

“...you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry…back spasm.”

“Well, you don’t have to rush out. You’re welcome to stay for a while if you don’t have anywhere to be.”

You flash him a smile and turn towards the kitchen. Peter watches you as you open your fridge and bend down—fetching two bottles of water from the bottom shelf. His eyes glue to your ass the second you lean over, and Peter punches himself in the knee—forcing his gaze up towards the ceiling.

He’s going fucking insane. He’s not used to being this…feral feeling. Arousal is usually one of the emotions that evades him nowadays, but here he is—done in by fucking Spiderman fanfiction. 

Who knew he’d get turned on reading about himself fucking some nameless woman? And who knew that arousal would make him thirst after you?

(Honestly, if he thinks about it, it’s not that surprising. The two of you have been friends for years, and he feels comfortable around you. Not to mention, you’ve always been attractive, even if you do like to push his buttons—)

“Here,” you say, snapping him out of his internal panic. You plop down onto the couch next to him, handing him one of the two bottles of water. 

Peter reaches out to take it, and you notice the sweat beading on his brow. Why the hell is he—?

At that moment, you spot your laptop on the coffee table—open, and still showing the commission document you’d left open earlier on. Your first instinct is to reach over and slam your laptop shut before Peter can see—

…wait.

Peter reaches forward to take the water bottle from your grasp, but when he grips it, you don’t budge.

Confused, he looks up—only to find you intensely staring at him.

“Did you read it…?”

Peter’s face heats up, his eyes darting to the side to avoid looking at you.

Busted…

You pulse races, embarrassment blooming in your chest.

HE DID, you realize. HE READ IT. Your fucking Spiderman smut!

“Ah, shit…,” you mumble, letting go of his water bottle and crumpling in on yourself. You curl onto your side, hiding your face in the couch cushion. 

Feeling horrible that he has embarrassed you—having discovered something you’d tried to keep private—Peter hurries to try and smooth over the situation.

“Okay, yes, I did read it,” he starts by saying. “But…it was…really good! You’re a good writer, and I can see why people are commissioning you! You’ll surely make some cash with the skill you have.”

If he was smart, he’d have stopped there, but no—Peter keeps going.

“A-And hey! I’d be willing to help too. Y’know, help give you some inspiration for your stories—”

His voice dies in his throat, realizing what it is he has just offered. And obviously, you realize it too—your head immediately lifting, staring at him with curious surprise.

“Did you just…offer…to fuck? To help me with my stories?”

The insinuation is so insane that you can’t help laughing. Peter coughs, straightening his shoulders out.

“I think I’d be very good inspiration for Spiderman.”

“Really?”

There’s disbelief in your voice. Peter narrows his eyes.

“You don’t think so?”

You hum, uncapping your water bottle and taking a swig. Peter mirrors you, his throat feeling dry.

“Spiderman is…suave and heroic, and you’re…dorky. Smart, but dorky.”

Peter frowns. “I can be…suave.”

You cock an eyebrow, a playful grin breaking out on your face. Your heart is racing a million miles an hour, because never did you think you’d be sitting here with Peter, the possibility of sex between the two of you suddenly laid out on the table. You’d never deny he’s an attractive male, and maybe because it’s him, and because you’ve missed the feel of another human being, you end up saying—

“Yeah? Show me then.”

You lean back, waiting to see if Peter will make a move. 

Unfortunately, the realization that you’re open to whatever is happening right now causes Peter’s brain to stall, and he takes a second too long to act—just long enough to allow doubt to worm its way into your head.

You’re putting him on the spot. And he’s still probably dealing with some complicated feelings from the split—you shouldn’t have poked him.

Without saying anything, you decide to try and create some space. You push off of the couch, padding towards your bedroom. You’ll make an excuse about needing to fold your clothes, or something stupid—and hopefully Peter will take what you’ve said as a joke, and will move on. Yeah, that sounds like a solid plan—

Pausing in the doorway of your room, you force yourself to smile, and turn to face Peter—only to find that he’d snuck up on you—your gaze meeting his chest the second you turn around.

“Pe—,” you’re only able to get the first syllable of his name out, your chin tilting back as you look up at him. The feeling of his palm cupping your cheek is what makes your voice die out, his chestnut eyes boring into you. 

You can see the hesitation on his face. A certain lack of confidence that you’re sure stems from his past relationship issues. But beneath that, you can see desire. A craving for intimacy he hasn’t shared in a long time.

You decide to be the one to close the gap—pressing onto your toes, your palm resting flat on his pec as you lean upward—connecting your lips with his. You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips, and you silently convince yourself that if Peter backs out, you’ll be fine with it. 

Luckily, he doesn’t. His brain finally kicks into gear, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist as he kisses you back. 

You make a pleasantly surprised little sound, your arms lifting to wrap around his neck—effectively deepening the kiss. A wrinkle appears between Peter’s eyebrows, his grip on your waist tightening. Your chest presses flat against his torso, and he rubs his thumb against your cheek, obsessed with the plushness of your lips and the feel of you against him.

It’s been way too long since he’s been intimate like this…that’s apparent by the blood absolutely rockets into his dick.

Although, to be fair, he’d already been half-hard before this.

“You think our local hero gets hard this quick?” you mumble against his lips with a grin, giggling when Peter makes a noise of annoyance and nips at you.

“You’d be surprised,” he responds. He slots his thigh between your knees, backing you into the doorframe. His clothed cock grinds against your stomach, trapped between your bodies, and his muscles tense.

“Adrenaline can go straight to the dick sometimes…”

(Peter has lost track of how many times, after an intense fight—especially earlier in his career—he’d swung home and immediately jerked off).

“That’s fair, I suppose.”

Your fingertips coast up the nape of his neck, tangling in the messy hair at the base of his skull. You yank him downward ever so slightly, your lips connecting with the skin of his neck. He immediately shivers, the first of many embarrassing sounds ripping from his chest as you lick and suck at his flesh.

“Think Spiderman whimpers?”

You’re teasing him. As to be expected, given the dynamic of your relationship. But Peter doesn’t intend on taking it quietly.

“Maybe,” he admits, “If you make him feel good enough. But if you wanna know what I think—”

Peter surprises you by ducking down—his arms looping around your thighs as he lifts you off the floor. Your squeal, arms and legs instinctively wrapping around him since you don’t want to fall, but Peter carries you easily enough—striding into your room and depositing you onto your bed.

He doesn’t waste any time—quickly caging you down. His knee reclaims its spot between your thighs, rubbing incessantly at the dampening fabric covering your privates, and his lips find your neck—a shiver raking up your spine as his stubble scratches against your skin.  

“Peter,” you gasp when his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips ghost over your heated skin, brushing past your waist, and finding the clasp of your bra. You have to arch to give him room to work, and Peter sucks a hickey of approval into your neck. He debates telling you “good girl”, but the thought leaves him the second your bra pops open.

He needs your tits in his mouth.

“—I think Spiderman has a thing for boobs,” Peter says, finally finishing his earlier statement. This exclamation is followed with the immediate removal of your shirt and bra—Peter forcibly tugging them over your head and discarding them on the floor beside your bed. 

The sight of Peter groping you and lowering his mouth to your chest is enough to have your heart skipping a beat, and you can’t help the mewl that leaves you when Peter sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.

Peter groans when your fingers fist in his hair, practically keeping his mouth trapped where it is, which he hardly minds considering he intends to lick and suck at your tits until you’re panting. 

And, that’s exactly what he does.

He lavishes your chest with his mouth—relishing in the way your hips jump at each little nip of his teeth or roll of your nipple between his fingers. It’s embarrassing, honestly, how wet it gets you—your panties feeling quite wet as you continue grinding your pussy against Peter’s thigh.

You try and think of some smart response in regard to Peter’s opinion that Spiderman is a tit man, not an ass man, but words seem to be avoiding you. You can’t think of anything coherently when Peter is touching you like this. Especially when his face finally leaves your chest, his lips peppering kisses down the length of your torso.

You lift your head to look at him, propping up on one of your arms. Peter reaches your navel, but doesn’t stop, heading towards—

“Peter,” you pant, your face flushing hotly as you realize the path he’s carving. 

Peter hums, his eyes flitting up and meeting your gaze just as he hooks his thumbs beneath the band of your pants. 

“Another thing about Spiderman…,” he begins, kissing the skin of your tummy as he inches your waistband down your hips. You watch him with blown-wide eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly—excitement and nervousness mingling inside of you.

You lift your ass off the mattress to help him shuck you of your bottoms, and Peter smiles, tossing your pants on the floor beside your other clothes.

Never in your life did you imagine the sight of Peter sinking to his knees, his hands gripping your hips and dragging you closer to him—his gaze falling between your legs. Your panties are soaked, and the sight causes more blood to rush into his dick. He’s so hard that it honestly hurts—just a little bit—but Peter still doesn’t touch himself, because—

“...Spiderman loves eating pussy.”

“He’s a people-pleaser,” you quip breathlessly, your thighs quivering in Peter’s hold when he presses a kiss to your skin, right beside your panty line. He quietly chuckles.

“Maybe.”

Peter thumbs at your clit through your panties, relishing in the whine he rips from your throat. You hips buck in his hold, craving more, and when Peter sees the desperate look on your face, he decides to not tease you.

Peeling your panties to the side, Peter finally connects his mouth with your pussy—his tongue licking a wet, broad strip between your folds.

Oh, shit, you think to yourself, the muscles in your abdomen convulsing as you watch one of your closest friends eat you out. The whole situation is making you feel light headed, so you can’t help it when you collapse back onto the mattress, your fingers fisting in the sheets as Peter groans into your cunt.

He eats you like a man starved, his face quickly becoming covered with your arousal. His nose bumps against your clit as his tongue sinks between your walls, and you full out whimper—your hips needily grinding against his mouth.

Peter’s palm presses down on your pelvis, forcing your hips to the mattress. He doesn’t want you squirming—just wants you desperate and pliant. To see you cumming on his tongue.

His name falls from your lips again, more debauched than he’s ever heard, and Peter curses.

“Shit.”

His tone is guttural, and sexy, and—

He presses a finger inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Pete—,” his name deterorates into a moan, your brain function declining as Peter begins fucking his finger inside of you. At the same time, he focuses his mouth on your clit, his tongue urgently flicking against the bundle of nerves. 

You unconsciously wriggle at the assault of stimulation, but Peter’s hand on your stomach keeps you in place.

Why is he so strong? You think to yourself, moan ripping from your chest as Peter slips in a second finger. It doesn’t take him long to locate that spongy little sweet spot inside of you. The one that causes your thighs to shake as he practically abuses it—rubbing the pads of his fingers against it repeatedly until you’re nearly sobbing.

The coil in your belly winds tight, heat searing your veins. You can feel your clit throbbing against Peter’s tongue, and the walls of your pussy tightening up around him.

“Peter,” you cry, your entire body trembling. You’re so fucking close.

“Cum,” he rasps. He needs to see you orgasm—needs to feel you unraveling on his mouth and fingers. 

Hearing the gravel of his voice is the final nail in your coffin—the tension in your muscles releasing as your orgasm washes over you. Just as he wanted, you cum all over him, your cunt gushing arousal around his fingers as his tongue continues lapping at your clit, dragging out the waves of your pleasure until you’re panting and pawing at his head, trying to push him away.

After a moment, he relents—sitting back to look at you.

You’re covered in a sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, and an arm draped over your eyes. Your tits are peppered with an array of hickies, and Peter feels his chest (and cock) swell with pride. He’s clearly done a number on you. And yet…

You feel the mattress dip, and then the room is spinning around you. When things finally settle, you find yourself laying on top of Peter.

He has one arm wrapped around your waist, his palm resting on your ass. The other brushes a few stray strands of hair out of your face when you lean back to look at him.

“Spiderman also loves being ridden,” he says with a grin. You place your hands on his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter as he watches you struggle to sit up.

“You think I have the energy to ride you after you just did that? And why do you keep saying Spiderman enjoys these things like they’re facts—you don’t know.”

“Just a feeling,” he responds, licking his lips. His hands find your hips, and he grinds you downwards. Your sensitive pussy rubs against his aching length, still trapped behind his sweatpants, and it’s hard to miss the way Peter harshly swallows at the feeling.

You sigh, scooting backwards.

“Fine.”

You shove his sweats and boxers down his thighs, careful to not snag them on his dick. And damn, he really must be aching—a sticky string of precum dripping from the head of his cock, and pooling on his abdomen. 

He opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to say anything. Your fingers wrap around his cock, smearing his arousal across his length, and whatever Peter had been planning to say crumbles into a needy garble of non-words.

You can’t help but smile at the sound.

“Surprised you didn’t cream your pants already,” you tell him, but your tone is hardly teasing. No, seeing him beneath you like this—the muscles in his torso clenching with every stroke of your hand—it’s actually quite endearing.

“I’ll cum in your hand if you keep doing that,” he pants, glancing into your eyes. You spot nothing but lust there, any previous reservations gone.

“Is that so bad?” you ask, thumbing at the head of his cock. Peter’s grip on your waist tightens, and you hear him take a shaky breath.

“Yes.”

He wants to be inside you, that much is clear. And while it’d be so easy to draw it out and make him beg…you don’t feel like being mean to him. Not tonight, after he’d just given you the best oral of your life.

“Fine,” you relinquish. You scoot forward, planting one hand on his chest, and gripping the base of his cock with the other. Peter’s breath catches when you rub the head of his cock between your folds, a heady groan following a beat later as you begin sinking down onto him.

By the time his cock is fully inside of you, your thighs are shaking. Whether from the lack of energy due to your previous orgasm, the remarkable size of Peter inside of you, or both—you’re not totally sure.

“There’s no rush,” Peter reassures you, but the needy warble of his voice betrays his words.

“My legs might give out at some point,” you respond with a breathless laugh, and Peter echos you, giving your waist a squeeze.

“That’s fine. I’ll help.”

With your palms planted firmly on his chest, you begin to ride him. 

And god, you feel so fucking good.

“Fuck,” Peter bites out, watching the space between your bodies, where his cock disappears inside of you with every roll of your hips. It’s been ages since a cunt has squeezed his dick like this, and honestly, he can see himself very easily getting addicted to the feel of you.

The bounce of your tits as you ride him, the cute little sounds you make when his cock rubs against the sensitive spots inside you—he feels like he’s going crazy.

“Peter,” you whine, your pace flattering. Having his cock inside of you is incomparable to the feeling of his fingers, and very quickly, you can feel another orgasm building, but…the closer you get, the more your strength falters.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he responds, praises falling from his lips. “You’re doing so good. You feel so good.”

His words cause your walls to clench around him, and he groans—his hands sliding down to your hips as he helps rock you down onto his cock. The sloppy sound of sex fills your bedroom, and you watch Peter with half-lidded eyes, soaking up the desperation showing on his face. 

His hair is slicked back with sweat, brows pinched together in concentration as he forces you to continue riding him. At least, until he starts craving more.

With his orgasm quickly approaching—despite the immense pleasure he gains seeing you bouncing on top of him—Peter’s hunger gets the best of him.

He grabs your wrists, moves your arms so they’re wrapped around his shoulders, and then secures his arms around your back. Before you can even digest the slight change in position, Peter is fucking you.

An incoherent string of noise slips past your lips, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as his cock pistons inside of you. With his arms trapping you against his chest, you’re helpless but to take it—your orgasm rushing to the surface at the desperate yet brutal pace that Peter sets.

“Peter,” you sob into his neck.

“It’s okay,” he responds without missing a beat, his voice breathless. “I’m right there. Cum for me again, sweetheart.”

As if you could stop.

Holding onto him for dear life, you cum for the second time that night—your walls clamping down on his cock so tightly that Peter’s rhythm falters. A curse rips from his throat, and his hands find the plush of your ass—stuffing your body down onto his dick as he cums along with you—pumping you full of his seed.

The needy tension of the room melts away, and you and Peter can only lay there—a pile of sweaty yet sated flesh. It takes you both a minute to catch your breaths, and you make a quiet noise of disappointment when Peter’s cock slips out of you. 

You can feel his cum running out of your pussy.

“Your balls aren’t dried up yet?”

Peter’s chest rumbles beneath you.

“I’m in my 30’s, not my 60’s.”

You glance up at him when you feel Peter’s fingers clearing the hair away from your face, and he smiles at you. Your heart jumps.

He must know how handsome he is, right? Even with that crooked nose of his.

“Don’t you ever get tired of taking cracks at me?” he wonders, using his grip on your ass to slide you farther up his chest. You giggle, cupping his cheeks as you find yourself suddenly face to face with him. 

“Mmmm, no?”

He rolls his eyes, yet his smile widens. You lean down to kiss him, and he reciprocates easily enough.

“Feeling good?” you ask him, carding your fingers through his hair. He nods.

“Very. I…really missed that.”

“Same,” you agree, sitting back. You need to get to the bathroom before any cum gets on your nice sheets. You crawl off of Peter, swinging your legs over the side of your mattress. He rolls onto his side, watching you with furrowed brows as he tucks his dick back into his pants.

“Same? You haven’t—?”

“Not in a while,” you admit, pulling a fresh shirt and a pair of panties from your dresser drawers. You’re about to make a joke that the only action you’ve gotten recently is from the toys stashed under your bed, but when you turn to look at the spot where they’re hidden, you find that…the box has moved. It’s not where you had left it.

“Did you…find my sex toys? Before I came home?”

Peter’s face goes carefully blank, but the red flush of his ears betrays him. 

You shoot him a glare, leaving your room with a huff.

“Dude doesn’t trust me…how fucking rude…”

“Hey now—!” 

Peter’s feet pound against the floor as he chases after you, and he catches you around the waist just before you make it into your bathroom. His lips press against the crown of your head.

“Again, I’m sorry for snooping. I’m dumb.”

You sigh, wriggling around to face him.

“You are,” you agree, lightly patting his chest. “Dumb, and insistent that Spider man loves tits, eating pussy, and getting ridden. Still holding those beliefs?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Peter grins. “And I have other beliefs about his preferences as well.”

“Of course you do,” you laugh. You kiss his cheek, and then step out of his hold—heading into the bathroom. 

“I’m going to shower,” you tell him. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you want any.”

Peter nods, and the last thing you see is him heading for your fridge when you close the bathroom door.

30 minutes later, you exit your steaming bathroom in your fresh oversized t-shirt and panties, fully expecting to find Peter lounging around your apartment, eating all your food. But…to your utter disappointment, you don’t spot him anywhere.

You sigh, shoulders sagging. Had it been too much to assume he would have wanted to stay the night?

Shuffling into your kitchen, you spot an empty plate on your table. One that you know had previously been piled high with leftover chicken and potatoes.

“He eats my food and runs off…of course,” you mumble, picking up the plate to put it in the sink. However, before your annoyance can truly get the better of you, a piece of paper that had been stuck to the bottom of the plate floats to the ground.

You bend over to pick it up.

Hey!

Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to stay so long, so I left my apartment earlier without locking the door. I’m running back home to lock it, but I should be back at your place by 9!

Don’t get mad at me. I’d never run off without a word :p

-PB

PS. I have a working theory that Spiderman also has more stamina than you’d expect, even for a guy who’s been doing hero work for 20+ years, so…round two when I get back?

You can’t help but laugh.

What an idiot. 

But…you like him.

[fangisms]

HEYY so I love your writing and have been stalking your account since yesterday 🤭 I checked and I saw ur request were open so I figured I’d shoot my shot and send a request but if you’re not interested it’s totally fine !!

I saw that you don’t have Harry on ur master list so idk if you take request for him? So I won’t request smth for him here but if you do write for him pls lmk !!

Ok now my actual request, can you write smth for Theodore Nott x fem!reader where reader is like tough and usually goes against the grain of what other people are doing and for once she decides to actually go to a party when a Some Guy starts hitting on her and she’s like obviously very not into it Theo confronts the guy and gets into a fight with him.

Like maybe they’ve known each other since they were young and when they got to hogwarts they grew apart bc they were in different houses but Theo has been like hardcore crushing on her for years lol. And like after he gets into the fight she cleans him up in the bathroom and is all like “you didn’t have to do that I can take care of myself” and he’s all like “yah I know” but feeling smug bc she’s blushing or smth and he’s all happy bc yah it’s been a while but maybe he still has a chance and doesn’t just have to watch her from afar forever 🤭

SORRY this is so long but I have been having Theo brain rot and this idea has been floating in my head for a couple days now

respectable fisticuffs

A/N: yk what i didn’t think i would but i WILL write for harry, send it in anon 🫂 also this request is so good pls gif cred: @possession

Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Non-Slytherin!Reader

Summary: Battered and bruised, Theo misses you like hell and now seems like a great time to tell you. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, theo gets in a physical fight, unsolicited flirting, cursing, tw blood/wounds, kissing, lots of ‘bellissima’, soo much pining

"What's she doing here?" Mattheo welcomes Pansy with a kiss on the cheek, leering at you like he's amused by your presence.

"I convinced her to show up, so pretty please don't scare her away," Pansy coos, patting him on the shoulder before disappearing towards the couches.

"It’s a your lucky day," he huffs, guiding you towards the sound of drunken laughter and song. "I know someone who's dying to see you."

"Don't we all," you tease. By the looks of it, he's leading you into the belly of the beast—a group of Slytherin boys crowded around a brassy gramophone. "So, who exactly is dying to see me?"

"Don’t play dumb, sweetheart... you know who," he whispers before slinking off to find a drink.

"Mattheo!" you shout, "Coglione." Maybe you should hunt Pansy down. She's the one who forced you to come after all, she deserves to bear witness to your misery.

Theo had no idea you were coming. If he had, he might've tried a little harder to impress. You look just as beautiful as the last time you ignored him, and it's not helping his crush in the slightest. Over the years, he's grown a real talent for watching you from afar. Since the sorting hat took you away from him, it's all he can do any more, and suffice to say, he misses you like hell even now.

As he's mulling it over in his head, you glance over at him. He thinks your gaze will dart away like it always does while he take a drag of his cigarette. But you wave. You hold up your hand and wave. At him. And he nods back like some nonchalant idiot. He loves the way your eyes always seem to sparkle just before you look away.

Theo waits until you've visibly relaxed to approach you. And just as he's mustering up the courage to leave his chair, Graham Montague spills his drink down your shirt.

"Shit," Graham pants, stumbling forward and clasping onto your waist for dear life. He looks down at your top—or rather, down your top—and chuckles to himself. "Might actually be an improvement."

"You smell like piss," you say. He palms your shoulder and laughs, leaning closer to mumble low in your ear.

"Does that mean you like it?" His fingers flex against your collar bone and trail up the length of your neck. You want to vomit.

Just then, his body falls limp to the ground with a thud, and you gasp, turning to see Theo looming beside you.

"Theo!" you shout, but he gently sweeps you aside, falling to his knees and taking a fistful of Graham's soiled collar.

"Get off of me—ow, prick," Graham whines, clawing at Theo's shoulder and reaching to scratch at his face. Theo slams his back hard against the floorboards with a sharp inhale before landing a punch to his face. Graham lets out a yelp and whimpers when Theo stands above him. Theo presses his boot to the palm of Graham's hand.

"Go near her again, and you'll lose your hand entirely," Theo seethes. Mattheo finally yanks him away with a snicker, guiding him to the stairwell. But not before Theo shouts, "Mangia merde e morte."

"Alright, dickhead, I think you've made your point," Mattheo says, squeezing Theo's shoulders as his eyes zip back and forth wildly, looking any and everywhere he can.

"Where is she?"

"Calm down—"

"Mattheo, you know where she is. Tell me," he huffs. If it weren't for the haunted look in his eye, Mattheo would've kept his mouth shut. But he knows how bad his friend needs this. How bad he needs you.

"She's upstairs. Told her she could borrow our bathroom."

"Sei come un fratello per me, thank you," Theo whispers.

"Yeah, yeah," Mattheo says, "you owe me one." Theo leaves him a kiss on the cheek before taking the steps two at a time.

The light from the boys' bathroom seeps through the crack in the door. It's the only light in the whole dorm, and he can see your shadow as it crosses back and forth. He feels like he's out on the field before a championship game or about to take an exam he didn't study for. His hands feel weak when he reaches for the doorknob.

He presses his ear to the door before opening it any further. "May I come in?"

You shuffle around, and he hears you approach the door on tender foot. He can't take the way you open the door and stand back like you're faced with some predator. He hasn't spoken to you in so long, all he wants is to wrap his arms around you and never let go.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Theo?" you say, shutting the door behind him as he goes to sit on the closed toilet seat.

"Don't say that," he says, carding his fingers through his hair. He groans at the pain shooting up his fingers.

You look over him softly. Subtly, so he won't notice, but he's gotten good at noticing you.

"Are you hurt?"

He looks at his knuckles, sprinkled with blood, and feels for the scrape on his cheek.

"No—"

He doesn't have time to explain himself before you're kneeling at his side, dabbing a cold towel against his jaw and tilting his chin up.

"It's worse than you think, Theo," you hum, pressing the damp cloth to the column of his neck as he swallows.

"It's nothing I can't handle."

"You idiot," you say. He hisses when you hold his jaw and turn his head, wiping the shallow gash on his cheek. Most of the blood is not his, which is a good sign. That doesn't stop you from wanting to yell at him, though. He can tell with the way you're frowning as you wet the dried blood on his warm skin.

"I had it under control, you know,” you say.

He can't help but smile at your determination. He always admired that about you. Too stubborn for your own good. And his.

"I know."

Your eyes drift across his brow, narrowly avoiding the eye contact he so craves. He drinks in the curve of your lashes, the sweetness of your cheek, the way your thigh is pushed against his knee.

"He was harmless. And drunk. And you should’ve known better."

"I know," he huffs. You toss the pink-tinged towel into the bowl of the sink.

"We're not kids anymore, I don't need you to protect me." You stay knelt at his feet, focused on your knees digging into the cold tile. It makes you sad to think about you and him like this. You used to be friends. Best friends, in fact, the kind of friends adults would say were 'joined at the hip'. You used to cry over being sorted into different houses, but you got over it. That's life. You figured he moved on and so should you. Maybe neither of you moved on in the end.

"Look at me." His voice startles you out of your thoughts, and you meet his soft green eyes.

"Bellissima..."

"You are such an idiot," you huff. Theo looks down at you like he's been waiting to all his life. Like he's been cursing that very first day since it happened.

"I miss you," he coos, fingers twitching where they're rested on his knees. "I miss having you close to me."

"That's not fair."

"Not fair?"

You look away. "No."

"How?"

Oh, and you hate the way he smiles when he knows he's about to get what he wants. He knows exactly how to get you flustered. That's exactly why he was your first kiss. And your second.

"Come on, bellissima... tell me you miss me," he whispers, leaning his elbows onto his knees to be closer to you. To have his nose brush the tip of your own. He craves the shape of your mouth now more than ever.

Then you look at him. Him and his dastardly grin, how the charm pours out of him in gobs. The hair sweeping across his forehead and how you always catch him looking at you how he is now. Innocent and longing. Like you’re beautiful. Like you’re his again.

“Of course I miss you,” you sob, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, “I miss you, Theo.”

“Oh, bella,” he says, fitting himself into your arms, knees pressed to either side of your own as he slides to the floor. You shudder against his body, and he holds you tighter. “I never want to be without you.”

You pull away just to look at him, his face, the way time has changed him. He has his hands on your waist when you lean in to kiss his cheek. His eyes flutter closed and he waits for another. You swipe your thumb where you’d just pressed your lips, and you kiss the corner of his mouth. He smiles, eyes still gently shut as he manouvres his fingertips to the curve of your bottom lip. And you kiss him.

masterlist

[boba-at-323]

Stay-home dates with RIIZE !!

Note : OMG !! I had so much fun writing thisssss <333 || DID NOT PROOFREAD PLEASE || Also Idk what to tw but I have mentioned snacks a whole lot of time + I TRIED MY BEST TO MAKE IT GENDER NEUTRAL BUT LIKE SINCE IM FEMALE SO EXCUSE ME ;-; please enjoyyyy !!

Osaki Shotaro <3 !

Hmm, not a big fan, but as long as you're happy he is too !!

Omg !!

You ask him to film TikToks with you and he's MORE THAN HAPPY !!

So like you've saved a lot of trends and dances you wanna recreate with him.

He's so excited and gets all giggly over it!

Takes it a little too seriously…

Like you're looking at him with your jaw dropped and eyes wide because how did it take him one look to literally MASTER the dance.

Laughs embarrassed when you praise him !!

But you tell him that he's too fast for you ';-; so he apologises and suggests teaching you the dance step by step!

The two of you continuously burst into fits of giggles when something goes wrong.

ITS JUST SO FUNNY BUT IN A CUTE WAY FOR SOME REASON

You'd film like 29837209 TikToks and just have fun goofing around.

You might also end up exhausted on the floor reviewing the videos you filmed.

Thinks you look very cute and asks you to do this often with him!

Might get bored if you don't have a lot to do.

HOWEVER !!!

Would love to talk to you about anything really.

I feel like he's someone who enjoys conversing, so you might actually start having deep conversations that will last for hours.

Hmm rating 8/10 PLS HES SO ADORABLE <3

Rest of the members under the cut !

Song Eunseok <3 !

This man is literally so chill with everything.

Like you'd suggest going for a picnic on a volcano and he'd be like "lol ok."

Okay, maybe not that much but yk what I mean !!

So yeah you're probably sitting with him binge-watching some anime or series.

He's quiet the whole time and is actually very immersed in the story.

However, he will be passing comments every now and then.

And I tell you, these comments are so out of pocket???

Like you can't help but burst out laughing.

And he's just gonna look at you like "😐".

AS IF HE HADN'T SAID THE MOST FUNNIEST THING YOU'VE HEARD ALL WEEK.

So yeah be prepared cuz the witty comments he's gonna slip will crack you so bad.

Like it actually makes you question how his brain works

ESPECIALLY HOW HE DOES LITERAL STAND-UP COMEDY WITH THAT SERIOUS EXPRESSION !!!

But it's okay, that just means he's having fun!

Also, it's very hard to concentrate on whatever you're watching cuz he looks so pretty next to you.

Like you keep on looking at him, smirks 100%

"Yeah I know I'm too hard to resist"

GETS COCKY BUT CAN YOU BLAME HIM !!!

Also makes sure you get your share of snacks!!

I'd rate it a solid 9/10 cuz it's really entertaining!

Jung Sungchan <3 !

HE IS NOT ENTERTAINED BY THE IDEA !!!

But after much convincing, he gives in.

"At least we get to spend time together, right?"

YOU'RE BAKING TOGETHER YIPPIEEEE!!!

But what happens is like,

You're standing there tying your hair back, you ask him for help with your apron.

Gets a little too touchy

You have to slap his arm away and give him a death glare.

Pretends he doesn't know what he did rn 😔

Is actually a very good helping hand.

Like helps you out, follows everything you tell him to do, however...

Has his doubts, and totally shakes his head if he thinks smth is going wrong.

"Y/n are you sure it's 2 cups sugar?" "I don't think we should be using butter…"

NOOO ENDS UP GETTING KICKED OUT OF THE KITCHEN BECAUSE

Like he said, he takes up a large radius.

So this clumsy baby probably toppled over a lot of things, making a very big mess ;-;

Apologises repeatedly with sad puppy eyes 🥹

You kiss his cheek and tell him it's fine

Though you ask him to sit it out and let you handle the rest of the process yourself.

YOU DO DECORATE WTV YOU MADE TOGETHER SO HES VERY EXCITED FOR THAT !!!

I'd rate it a 4/10, this man is NOT meant to be confined to a small space.

Park Wonbin <3 !

Would prefer them actually !!!

He'd absolutely LOVE to cuddle with you throughout the day.

Like he'd just be clinging onto you telling you literally everything that happened to him cuz for some reason he gives me yapper vibes

Though he'd appreciate listening to what you have to tell him, leaving a trail of kisses all over your neck.

Also he LOVES your voice so much omg !

So he can also pull out his guitar and have a serenade with you (english 💀).

Would ask you your favourite song, and if he doesn't know it WILL make sure he knows it the next time you guys have an at-home date

If he knows, he plays it for you encouraging you to sing.

you tell him you think your voice sucks.

A DRAMATIC GASP COMES FROM HIS DIRECTION !!!

"Nonsense idc i just wanna hear your pretty voice <3"

Literally heart eyes for you once you start singing,

Like might actually melt, give you the softest, most lovesick gaze EVER !

There is a possibility he ends up messing up the cords cuz you distracted him !!!

He's so cute pls </3

Omg also, the two of you might also end up in the kitchen cooking smth together, blasting a playlist he made for you!

But you don't know that <3

He actually so desperately wants to do cliche romantic things with you but is too shy to initiate </3

It's giving that "Idk how to flirt so I'm just gonna stare at you till you marry me" meme

HOWEVER !!

Be prepared for endless back hugs because he's just so SO soft for you <333

Anyways yeah 11/10 (+1 is probably cuz I'm so down bad for him)

Hong Seunghan <3 !

My manz I miss him all day everyday ;-;

He's so sweet I tell you, agrees to literally everything.

Putting mbti and stuff aside, I think he'd actually plan out a few activities you could do together.

Like if you're going over to his place, hes prepared snacks and stuff for you.

Hmm !! Video games are a must I believe !!

Like I read he plays FIFA online???

SO yeah, if you know how to play, the both of you would spend hours playing together

I don't see him getting very competitive but will whine if you keep on beating him!

However, will also compliment on how great you are at the game!!

HE FEELS PROUD I TELL YOU !!

However, if you don't know how to play and absolutely suck (like me ;-;)

HE'D BE SO EXCITED TO TEACH YOU !!

When you mess something up, or like if you can't understand something, the pout on your lips makes his heart EXPLODE.

Like he thinks you're the most adorable ever, he'd start squealing if his pride lets him.

Ends up attacking you with kisses and hugs.

The game is long forgotten, just a clingy Seunghan showering you with love because of how adorable he finds you.

I'D RATE IT AN 8/10 TBH BECAUSE HE'D FORGET WHAT PERSONAL SPACE IS !!!

Lee Sohee <3 !

SPENT SO MUCH TIME THINKING SOMETHING FOR HIM 😭

Unlike Seunghan, I can see him playing board games and such with you!

For example, the two of you could be sitting on the floor playing UNO.

But that got boring CUZ HOW DO TWO PEOPLE EVEN PLAY UNO !!!

So takes out a Jenga set because he thought it was very entertaining!

Both of you are screaming SO much when either chooses the wrong piece to remove.

HOWEVER, HE'S USING THE SPECIAL SKILLS EUNSEOK TAUGHT HIM!!!

Which is unfair to you and you WILL whine about it.

"All is fair in war and Jenga"

HIS WORDS NOT MINE !!!

Laughs at you because you're definitely the one who's going to topple the tower over.

So yeah you all spend a lot of time giggling and screaming over board games!

OMG ALSO !! Thanks to Anton, he bought some Lego sets too!!

You all start good but eventually get so frustrated because you can't find one tiny piece.

Ofc you give up and spend the rest of the evening with his karaoke machine !!

HE !! WANTS !! TO !! SING !!

And please you're just so mesmerised the whole time he's singing.

Like woah??? His voice is so good even when he's goofing around? INSANE!!

Though you aren't losing to him, so the both of you get SUPER competitive.

RATING THIS A 7/10 !!

Lee Anton <3 !

Like Wonbin, he'd also enjoy stay-at-home dates.

I can see him enjoying doing anything, to be honest.

Like for example, the two of you could just be lying next to each other sharing with each other reels you see.

Or just him listening to you telling him some tea from your workplace/college etc.

Sitting on the bed together with a variety of snacks sprawled around.

Like Sohee, I can even see him building Legos in silence with you cuz this guy is so patient !

Oh also!

He'd pull out his laptop and shyly ask if you'd like to listen to the music he's created.

After listening, your face is the shocked Pikachu meme.

"Woahhh my boyfriend is so cool :OOO"

Get's blushy over the compliments you shower him with.

Brushes it off saying it's nothing.

THATS A FREAKING LIE LEE CHANYOUNG!!

NEways, teaches you how to try making music.

Laughs if you cry about how difficult it is, he thinks it's adorable.

You ask him to delete the trash you've made, but he creates a separate folder to save everything you've made with him.

ITS ART TO HIM !!! HOW CAN HE THINK SMTH YOU'VE CREATED IS TRASH?!?!?!

Plus he treasures it so much like only if he could somehow just make you feel how much it means to him !!

SO YEAH !

Pretty cute, very cozy, overall nice experience 10/10 <3

Thank you for reading reblogs and reviews are appreciated ! <3

Title : Stay-home dates with Riize || Word count: 1652 || Genre: fluff ! || Pairing: Riize x implied Fem!Reader (tried making it gender neutral pt.29382938)

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (9)

In which Aubrey gets interviewed...

series masterlist

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

ellemagazine posted

ellemagazine Our June edition features Aubrey Yang on her directing debut, the trajectory of her career and new friends in Formula One. Full article linked in bio.

tagged: aubreyyang

liked by formula1, olliebearman, mckennagraceful and 80,944 others

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user1 ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BARK BARK SHES SO FINE

aubreyyang thank you for having me Elle! always a blast 💋

-- aubberieloverss MOTHERRR

dior.n.goodjohn ILY UR SO BEAUTIFUL AND ETHERAL

-- aubreyyang stawpp ur making me blush

formula1 thank you for the shout out! hope to see you in the Ferrari paddocks soon 🏎️

liked by aubreyyang

-- f1wagsupdates BAHAHA f1 admin ur brave for that one

lilymhe prettiest girl

-- aubreyyang me and dior miss u tons! can't wait to see u soon

mvertsppdudu can ollie fight ill catch him in the paddocks

ELLE MAGAZINE

NEW ISSUE

INTERVIEW WITH AUBREY YANG

Aubrey Yang, the multi-faceted actress debuts her talent and grit for directing and screenwriting in her short film Pelt, winning the Best Screenplay and a notable nominee for the Best Film during London Film week. Since we've last seen her at Elle New York, she has turned 18, nearing 19 now, and made some drastic changes to her life.

Since her film, Yang has not been in any other production as talent, but teases us with a new project "that's coming soon, don't worry". She adores her new found love for being a creative, and is scouting to get her hands on more projects in Hollywood on that side of the camera.

Her studies continue at New York University and she is set to graduate early, next year. When asked about her ability to balance school and work, she smiles knowingly and tells us that "it's important to take breaks, but more importantly, I've chosen things I love to do".

During these breaks, Yang is often seen with fellow young actress Dior Goodjohn and international pop sensation Olivia Rodrigo. But 18 has brought a new hobby: Formula One.

"I met Lily [Muni He] and Alex [Albon] at a gala, and we hit it off. They're like my parents" she answers adoringly. She has been seen multiple times in both the Williams and Ferrari garages visiting with fans and learning about the mechanics of racing.

"I've met some wonderful people; I never really got to be a regular teenager because I was working and going to university early. They've really helped teach me about having fun and letting loose."

Next year when we inevitably feature her lovely face again, we'll see the new changes to her life.

MESSAGES

ollie

I read ur article it was great

sad I didn't get a shout out tho :(

aubrey

sorry boo

PROMISE TO GIVE YOU ONE NEXT YEARR

ollie

okay :)

anyways r we still on for the trip?

aubrey

yes mr. bearman

ollie

I was thinking Charles and Alex might want to go w us

aubrey

YESSS MY FAV MONAGESQUES

ollie

gotta go but talk later? ☺️

aubrey

kk cya bearman

ollie

bye yang :)

MESSAGES

alex 🖼️

cou cou chérie!

(hey dear)

aubrey 🎬

AHH ALEX J'avais l'intention de t'envoyer un texto ! On part en voyage en Europe ?

(I was meaning to text you, are we on for the Europe trip?)

alex 🖼️

yes but I have smth to ask

aubrey 🎬

um not the English what's wrong

alex 🖼️

DO U LIKE OLLIE

aubrey 🎬

UM BYE WHY

alex 🖼️

bc I have to watch him text u and its dégoûtant

(disgusting)

aubrey 🎬

bro idk

dior thinks we like each other

its just hes becoming such a good friend

he makes me smile

and hes so sweet and kind and gentle

hes not like any other guy ik

alex 🖼️

its going to be such a long trip 😔

aubreyyang posted on their story

olliebearman replied to your story

cute 😊

aubreyyang

ikr shes my cousins baby

olliebearman

oh

very cute

wanna play 9 ball on message

aubreyyang

YOURE ON

bearyfast_04 posted

bearyfast_04 I think im ready to be a father

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, leosdad and 10 others

leosdad fatherhood is hard

-- landoakabob u have a dog

-- leosdad u take that back hes my son

pastryboy SIR U ARE 21 WDYM CHILDREN

-- bearyfast_04 but look at her 🥰

-- arthuranddw another fallen soldier

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[subskz]

So this is kind of my personal head canon,but what do you think about sleepy sex with Bang Chan?Since he works all day,he wouldn't have the energy to get intimate,so he leaves the reader to do what they want to him while he dozes off

yes!! i adore the idea of sleepy sex with channie both in the sense of helping him fall asleep and free use somnophilia <3

sometimes he comes home so desperate for you but too exhausted to do anything. he’s already extra cuddly when he’s drowsy but when he’s in that kind of headspace he needs you more than ever, there’s no chance of getting him off of you he clings to you like a koala ㅠㅠ the moment he rests his head on your shoulder, breathing in your scent w a soft, sleepy mumble you know he needs you to take care of him until he drifts off. he’s complete putty in your hands, gazing up at you through half-lidded eyes as you ride him/cockwarm him or lazily jerk him off under the covers until the release of endorphins when he cums eases him right into sleep ♡ he might be out like a light even before he reaches his climax bc the gentle rhythm of pleasure is so soothing, it makes the haze in his mind take over immediately

he’ll collapse into bed after a long day and hold his arms out to cling to you, even when he’s worn out he still uses the last of his energy to nestle into you and press your bodies together. maybe he nudges his nose against yours w a quiet whine to ask you to kiss him as he rubs himself sleepily into your thigh. just cute, uncoordinated movements on pure instinct bc he needs you so bad but can barely stay awake enough to grind his hips properly. his eyes start to droop and eventually his lips stop moving, they just sta puckered uselessly against yours slipping out sweet sighs as his breathing gradually slows and he falls asleep. he never feels safer or more loved than when he drifts off in your arms <3

other times he lets you use him in his sleep bc channie is such a little giver who always wants to please you. even when he doesn’t have the energy for sex, he loves being of service to you and is more than willing to let you have your way with him, he might even be the one to bring it up. it helps that he tends to sleep shirtless most of the time too so you have easy access to his body without disturbing him too much~ he’ll pass out still half-hard for you, all you have to do is dip your hands into his boxers and use all the precum that’s leaked out of his dick to start stroking him to full hardness so you can use him however you want. he’s so vocal even in his sleep, he lets out so many tiny whimpers and moans inbetween his snores, and it’s so cute to hear the sound of his breathing go from that peaceful rise and fall to heavy panting the more you toy w him. he definitely wakes up a few times throughout, esp if you give him head bc he’s super sensitive to your tongue and he might even start bucking up weakly into your mouth in his sleep. he drifts in and out of consciousness, waking himself up with a weak hiccup or mewl of your name when smth feels especially good. he looks disoriented for a second, blinking up at you like he doesn’t even know where he is, but the moment he registers it’s you, a lopsided, dreamy smile forms on his face and he reaches out to hold your hands or grab on to you somehow, only for his grip to loosen once he starts to doze off again

some days he doesn’t even make it to the bedroom and you come home to find him just passed out on the couch, wearing that specific hoodie that lets you know anything goes (in his own words…“this body belongs to you” hehe) you can put a cockring on him to keep him hard as long as possible and ride him to your heart’s content, sweet baby would be so happy to wake up finding you in his lap using him for your own pleasure, he slurs out smth abt wanting to make you feel good then drops his head against your chest and falls right back asleep. you can also admire his body to the fullest when he’s asleep, running your hands along his muscles, toying with his nipples and pouty lips and dick, and kissing all over his skin without him shying away or trying to cover up for once 🥰 you can take your sweet time prepping him too if you want to peg him, pumping your fingers gently and methodically in and out of him for as long as you want before adding another, maybe even a third until he’s perfectly stretched out for you

he’d be the cutest sight when he wakes up w his messy curls and puffy face and droopy eyes ❤️‍🩹 he’d feel so relaxed and satisfied and maybe a lil sore, but he beams when you cover his face with kisses and coo over him for being a good boy who takes you so well even in his sleep

[lovebugdrabbles]

Wriothesley Headcanons n$4w vers

notes: i need readers to please go into this believing bro is 35 years of age MINIMUM. or u won't get my VISION. also, my tags are messy bc it's my first time posting my writing on tumblr so just pretend ik how to tag my writing.

warnings: n$4w obvs, 1k words, untitled sentences for the aesthetic, semi-lit, i do use apostrophes, shortened words/abbreviations, i want him in a muzzle so that's mentioned, inappropriate use of handcuffs, i mention he gets rough, i write him as a sweetie pie lowkey tho, tbh it’s a little vanilla, i made a joke abt being ford tough and i feel that warrants a warning, biting, pet name ‘doll’ used, (brief mention) ass slapping , (brief mention) hair pulling, i call him a teddy bear a couple times, (mentioned) slight manhandling, i get a little too into imaging him subby, oops, i also get a bit caught up in soft dom wriothesley,

now playing |◁ II ▷| ‘doin time’ by sublime

methinks he's defff vers/switch but will fully let a partner take over or will take control himself. i don't believe he's picky in this department for a moment. i think he might prefer dom however his dom side has limits.

i bet he's sooo vocal. letting every little grunt and moan out. word vomits too. whatever he’s thinking, his partner will hear it.

big softie. idc. he is a SWEET MAN. 'love should be warm' headass.

so many pet names for his partner. doll, baby, baby-doll, babe, sweetheart, hon/honey. but doll or sweetheart r his faves.

using his title in bed makes him melt.

like i don't think he's malicious in bed. like truly. he seems teddy-bearish to me but i could be looking thru rose colored glasses i must say.

he's def a bit rough tho but i think it'd be in a playful way. there is times he’d get too into the moment and grab on a bit too tight to a thigh or the hair he's running a hand thru or snap his hips a little too hard but he doesn't mean to and will apologize immediately and try to make it up to a partner or even stop mid-session to make sure the other party is alright.

not opposed to using the cuffs if a partner asks. on him or his partner. but he needs enthusiastic consent before or he won't do it.

i do think he’s actually rlly good abt asking for consent to do things tho. but he does it in a way that it feels like part of sex and not just asking for permission ‘you like that?’, ‘you wanna keep going, doll?’ ‘wanna keep taking me?’ but he will make said doll use their words or he won’t keep going. mans is a whore for hearing a partner beg or ask him to do something and he's not above it either.

he seems like the type to wanna hold hands while going at it. like if his hands can reach his partners they are intertwined or at least touching. a pinkie wrapped around the other at the very least. he feels closer and just… better with it

y'all know the shirt that says 'warning this bitch bites' he needs it. will leave marks that last for days and absolutely loves if a partner does it too. but he does feel a bit guilty after especially if it's a hard bite so will pepper kisses on them after.

seeing his bite marks on a partner drives him crazy tho. like, makes him stop in his tracks and wakes up smth in him like a sleeper agent.

kisses thru-out the ordeal soz u can pry this from my cold dead hands. he feels a little guilty if he isn't kissing a hand, a clavicle or any piece of skin he can delicately place a smooch on occasionally when he's not biting ofc.

additionally: my brain has been occasionally FOGGED w thoughts of him in a muzzle. i'm drooling rn actually. i think he'd have a love-hate relationship with it since he wouldn't be able to kiss or bite a partner but he absolutely bends at a partner’s will when they tug on the bars and that's the best part for him

honestly i don't think he'd be comfortable going much harder than what i've mentioned. maybe he'd allow a few slaps on the ass but idk just seems out of character imo. being rough and tumble is for work and the ring and i think he'd keep it that way.

i did say he's a switch/vers so it's time to talk abt both sides of the coin :))))

when he's in a particularly subby mood; he's pathetic. a complete mess of a man.

its so satisfying to see a guy so high in power just groveling to someone.

i bet he looks at a partner w the biggest puppy dog eyes, mumling the softest and breathiest pleases, his hair all tousled and falling over his face. he thinks he's willing to do anything a partner orders him to do atp.

especially interested in peppering kisses on a partner when he's in this mood. nuzzling and sighing as he wraps his arms around his partner and smooches.

this is the time he is very much not opposed to the handcuffs on him.

i think he'd asked to be praised or called a good boy on these nights. i don't make the rules.

this is when he gets vocal. whimpering included too.

but the facade almost immediately drops when aftercare starts.

on the topic of a dom wriothesley; honestly i dont see him getting into the rough dom role but staying more of a soft dom and being very comfortable there.

that is where the word vomit happens, talking a partner through it all when he's in this mood, telling them how good they feel, they're being so good, or to quiet down despite being a bit noisy himself but that's what his biting is for.

moaning into every bite. teeth marks and hickeys covering a partner the next morning leading to that system overload i touched on earlier.

willing to try more positions when he's in this mood fs but he truly believes you cant go wrong w the classics. *cough cough* missionary

this is when he gets real into it and loses himself in the moment like i mentioned earlier. hips bucking and hands reaching to hold onto a partner like they'll escape.

he gets a little bit rougher but its still not in a mean way more in a 'oh yeah? watch this.' type way. pulling a partner closer of man handling them to hold their hips in a better position.

occasionally those pet names get a very adamant 'my' in front of them.

i think this is when his most comfortable area of aftercare comes in but not before one last thing.

he'd like to stay holding a partner for a bit afterwards, letting everyone regain their bearings before hopping into aftercare mode if he was the one in control.

aftercare on top tho. tea, running a bath, helping a partner bathe if they so want, helping a partner get dressed if they're super sore, massages, just all out pampering, especially if he gets a little rough.

he equally enjoys reciving aftercare but is hesitant bc he says he's fine or he's built tough. BUILT FORD TOUGH. sorry idk where that came from and he is but the guy needs to let a partner take care of him sometimes.

the 'love is supposed to be warm' line weighs heavy on me if u cant tell. he's just a teddy bear :(( ugh i'll sob.

la fin !

end notes: tysm for reading the ravings of a madman !! i've had so many random ass thoughts abt him since playing the story quests lmfao and i wanted to get out of my fluffy/horror writing comfort zone so i wrote basically what i think he's like in bed jsjsjs. i may be posting some stuff on boothill from honkai star rail but it'll probably be more rambling just about robotics and prosthesis for now if i post. if i don't post that i'm wrapping up a wriolette fic soon and that will be up here or on my ao3 under the same user !! till next timeee

[luffyvace]

yandere hero & villain hxh au

to explain this is uhhh, idk how. But I’ll do my best!! Basically the main 4 & the hunter association are heroes and the villains are the phantom troupe!!

Request via dms by: @animerules898

I’m not sure if they wanted the whole hxh verse to argue over you or if they meant separately…. But I’m gonna do separately but the yandere feels like the heroes/villains wanna take you away 💃👍

Light! Yandere! Themes, nothing too crazy ofc!! (Part 2 here!!)

Gon 🎣 and Killua 🪀!!

Yeah I’m just gonna lump these two together bc they’d definitely help each other out‼️

but the thing is by lumping them together idk if they’d be sharing or separate, and since this is from reader pov there’ll be a 3rd party I say they don’t share, so I think I’ll go with sharing anyway

alright now that that’s settled!

first off they’ll protect you with they’re life, even if your strong

like actually, they’ll give they’re life to make you keep living, and the other must take care of you

or if they both do then make sure you live in for them!

but onto a light topic- they’re really only yandere when they feel jealous or when your in danger, otherwise they’re really playful and friendly ofc, so you likely won’t be scared of them unless they kidnap you or smth-

if your not they’ll be especially protective of you and at least one of them is near you at all times

things don’t get any safer after you become hunters so they’ll either teach you nen or as a last resort send you to live with aunt mito

(cuz killua family ain’t a option 🗿)

as long as it’s not too dangerous they’ll let you choose which one

also they feel disappointed in themselves after getting kidnapped by the phantom troupe, because it proves they aren’t strong enough to protect you from villains!

they’d better not hurt you or adult gon gonna be activated early! >:(

joking! 😜 but they do prioritize getting you free before them

they’re protectiveness becomes heightened after that incident and you’d have to fight not to go stay with aunt mito if you wanna keep going on adventures

but for the chimera ant arc they definitely don’t let you go

at least not to the king’s castle

they’ll find a strong ally to keep you safe in a safe place and when they get back you better be safe or else whoever was supposed to keep you safe isn’t going to be safe

LOL 🤪

Kurapika ⚔️📚

Kurapika would be one of the most protective ones seeing as though his half of the villains in this au are his enemies 😭

he won’t want you to go out a lot at all so I hope your not one for adventure, preferably an introvert too so you aren’t always super hype to see others and maybe a little skeptical like him

With your permission he’ll put a tracker on you just in case, he seems to be surrounded by kidnapping-🗿 so he can’t risk that happening to you

even more so if the troupe finds out about you, which he really really really hopes never happens even tho it just might

i don’t think it’ll be anyone’s fault if they do, unless Kurapika kidnapped you and you try to escape, then Shalnark likely just found out about you through research

And the chances of Chrollo not taking you hostage to use against Kurapika are almost 0%

if that does happen Kurapika will do whatever it take to get you back, even if it means telling the troupe they can have his life as long as they set you free (which Kurapika is smart so he’ll get his friends/Allies to help make sure they actually set you free in case it was a set up, he comes up with a very detailed plan and it’s success rate is pretty high since he’s managed to outsmart Chrollo before using the element of surprise. I’m not sure where he’ll send you but if Gon suggests Aunt Mito’s house he’ll likely take the opportunity seeing as though he has no family to send you to himself).

but if that doesn’t happen! (Thankfully) he will constantly move every few months and make to sure keep lots of locks and passcodes wherever you stay at the moment. He also has lots of security cameras, but don’t worry! He’s a good boyfriend aside from all the crazy stuff you have to go through from his wild life so he still gets you gifts and spends all his free time with you when he’s home! 💗

Leorio 🥼🩺

Being with Leorio will probably give you the most peaceful life at our everyone here 😭😭

seriously tho this dude’s just a doctor!

If you met in college he likely fell in love with you with for your intelligence/appearance and as he discovered more about you he found himself going down a rabbit whole of newfound affection for you

even if you didn’t meet in college he still falls pretty darn fast for you

your one of the few couple who can have a normal life and regular dates

all thanks to the fact that he basically has no ops LOL

he’s aware of villains and is grateful they don’t even know he exists 😭😅

that way he can give you a peaceful life and he has time to get stronger before taking on any seriously dangerous foes to protect you

but yeah! You adventures with gon, killua and kurapika can get pretty wild but your really on the outside looking in since none of gon, killua of Kurapika’s ops really come for you 😂

enjoy your happy life!♡ Ging 📜

this man has the power and disappearance abilities to protect you and hide you well from your enemies..

so your pretty much good!👌✅

Besides idk know many who has the guts to challenge this guy anyway

in fact idk anyone who even found this guy to be able to challenge him!

I mean besides gon but obviously he wasn’t looking for smoke 😭

when you meet gon you probably find him cute!

Ging probably told you about him but he seemed uncomfortable at the topic and didn’t wanna talk about it much cuz he isn’t exactly proud he up and left…

it doesn’t make him look good for you since your his s/o 😃

Ging will take you on any safer adventures he has but idk how often that’ll be

you probably have a pretty home tho! Somewhere safe too! Although I will say you probably have multiple houses with all the traveling he does, in fact you may own 3 in the most common places you go to but otherwise you just rent trusted, clean places to stay at.

It’s a plus that you don’t have to really worry about villains too!

ngl this is also a pretty peaceful life as long as you can deal with Ging’s antics (if he’s anything like Gon)

btw don’t worry he tells you when he’s going and where when he leaves, and always comes back, he cares about you a lot and doesn’t want you to stop loving him bc of a situation like his and Gon’s- 🗿😜

I have a feeling he didn’t kidnap, but courted you as well.

Go on, runaway (🤭) into the sunset together ☀️ I’m gonna make a part 2 for the phantom troupe as the villains bc I might run out of characters 😅💗