#this is another one of those asks that's going to be on my mind for some time hot damn

[rafesbabyg1rl]

You were asking for reqs for rafe x reader, if you are taking them, I have one in mind. In which rafe is extremely possesive of bsf reader, and gets easily jealous. One day she was at a kook party, and a guy approached her and they started to talk and that sh*t went down, rafe got aggressive and almost beat the guy to a pulp. Reader is like a shy cute innocent, bimbo type. And smut after the scene if you write it.

Summary: Innocent!reader X possessive!Rafe, bestfriend!reader X bestfriend!Rafe. Summary is basically the anonymous ask!

Warnings: Rafe is possessive of reader. Established friendship. Rafe almost beats a guy to death. Mentions of drugs (no actual drug use), alcohol consumption. Lots of smut; p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, SLIGHT degradation (some praise too). The classic 'what are we' at the end. The L word.

Word Count: 6.1k

Author Note: Hello Beauties! Thank you for the support and kindness you've all shown me. And thank you for this ask, I really enjoyed writing it. I hope I did your idea justice. Sorry that this is a bit long, it just sort of happened. Also, I hope you all enjoyed the holiday yesterday, well those that celebrate. I'm hoping to finish part four of The Watcher soon so I can get it out, life has just been so exhausting. Anyways, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!! Stay freaky y'all.

Your best friend, Rafe, had asked you to go to a party with him. Well, more like he had told you to go. Although it’s not like you’d ever miss the opportunity to party with your best friend. So, here you are; walking around the side of Topper’s house, looking for Rafe. You two didn’t come together, he got here before you. He knows you don’t love being around his ‘friends’ and their various illegal substances, even though he says he’s clean, he likes to have time with them before you get there. 

You round a corner, now entering the Thorton’s backyard. You look for Rafe as you work your way through the loud and busy crowd. You hear a friend call your name, you turn your head to her, and she waves you over. You approach her and a few others with a smile. You greet them.

The other girls chat amongst themselves as your friend speaks up, shouting over the music. “Hey!” She’s over enthusiastic per regular, probably a bit drunk too.

“Hey!” You shout back. 

She begins, “Oh my god! I have to tell you something. Guess who I saw—”. Usually, you’d want to hear all the gossip she’s about to ramble to you, but not right now. “Do you know where Rafe is?” You shout over her, cutting her off.

“What?” She asks, stepping closer to you so she can hear you.

“Do you know—” You’re suddenly interrupted by some guy standing beside you. You turn to face him.

“Hey.” He says, his tone confident. A cocky grin spreads across his face.

“Hi.” You smile politely, “Do I know you?”. You say hurriedly before turning back to your friend. She looks between you and the guy a few times before facing you and giving you a knowing smirk. You know what that look means and before you can say anything, she walks away. Leaving you alone with him. You roll your eyes at her playfully, although you really are annoyed that she didn’t tell you where Rafe is. 

Slowly, you turn your head back to the guy, flashing him another fake smile. He grins again before speaking, “No…no you don’t.” He pauses, stepping a bit closer to you so he doesn’t have to shout over the music as loud. “I’m Devin.”

Your fake smile is getting awkward, but you don’t know what to say. You don’t care about talking to him right now. “Nice to meet you, Devin. B-but I need to–”

Devin cuts you off, “Let me get you a drink.” 

You laugh shyly, “Oh...I-I’m okay, I actually have to…”

“Let me just get you a drink, it’ll only take a second.” He moves closer to rest his hand on your lower back for a slight moment, to get you to turn toward the drinks. 

Rafe was on the back patio sitting on one of the couches when someone had mentioned to him that they saw you. He went to go and find you, which is when he spotted you laughing with some guy, who moments later put his hand on you. Rafe’s already had a few drinks tonight, so his judgment clouded even more than usual, especially when it comes to you. 

As you walk towards the drinks, Devin’s hand falls and he follows close behind you. 

After a moment, you hear a mix of gasps and ‘ooohh’s’ from everyone. You turn to look behind you where everyone seems to be gathering. You find that Devin isn’t behind you anymore.

Immediately your eyes land on some commotion in the crowd, you squeeze through the ring of people forming around the area. Shit. You run forwards, pausing just before the fight. 

Devin is flat on his back, Rafe straddling him. Rafe has Devin’s shirt clenched in one fist, holding his head off the ground as he repeatedly drives his other fist into Devin’s face. 

“Rafe!” You shout. Keeping your distance, not wanting to get too close while he’s out of control. You’ve seen how he can get. In the years that you two have been friends, you’ve had to calm him down from countless fights, since nobody else can ever seem to do it. But, when nobody else steps in to try and stop the fight, you step closer, knowing something has to be done. “Rafe, stop! Stop it!” You scream. 

Devin’s completely unconscious, his nose is probably broken, but you can’t really tell; his face is a swollen mess of blood and bruises. You can’t stand here and watch anymore, and nobody seems to be listening to your cries for help. Because nobody is stupid enough to get in Rafe’s way while he’s like this. You step behind Rafe, putting your hands on his shoulders. You try to pull him back all the while trying not to get punched.

“Rafe! Look at me! Look at me, Ray!” Rafe turns his head to the side, momentarily stopping his actions, letting Devin’s head rest on the floor. You put a hand up to cup his cheek. Speaking quietly now as you plead to him. “Rafe…c’mon, that’s good, h-he’s had enough…”. Your tears slow, but your breath is still erratic as you look at the unconscious man. 

Rafe turns back to the guy, your hand falling from his face. Rafe pulls Devin’s head up, like he was going to punch him again. Instead, he lets go, letting the boy's head hit the floor. Rafe stands up without a word and grabs you by your wrist, tugging you away. 

Before you know it, you’re being shoved into your best friend's truck. His random mumbles don’t make much sense to you, talking about ‘he got what he deserved…Should’ve fuckin’ killed him…yeah, should’ve fucking killed him for that. Touchin’ what’s mine…’

When you get to Tannyhill, Rafe wastes no time pulling you into his room. You sit on his bed stiffly, waiting silently as he paces the room.

“Rafe?” You call out softly. “You okay? What happened back there? What was that?”

“He touched you.” Rafe states. His tone is low and rough, sending a chill down your spine. Even after all the years you’ve been his best friend, you still never know how to act when he’s like this. 

“Barely. He barely touched me.”

Rafe completely disregards what you say, shaking his head and blowing out a jagged breath as he continues to pace across his room, a bit slower now. “Why was he even talking to you? You were supposed to be with me. I told you to go to the party, not him.” 

You take your chance to get a word in as he spews out angry nonsense. “I was looking for you and he started talking, ‘wanted to get me a drink. I was just being nice; I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t even want to talk to him, I was looking for you, Rafe. I don’t even see why that matters–”.

He pauses, looking over at you. His movements are sharp as he strides over to you. “Don’t see why it matters…?” He repeats your words, more for himself than to you. “It matters because you’re mine.” His words are sharp, definitely directed to you that time.

“Rafe…you almost killed him…because of me? I don’t get it Rafe; I don’t nearly kill all the girls you fuck.” You state.

Rafe lets out a breathy chuckle before speaking. “Still don’t get it, huh?” Rafe laughs. “God you’re so innocent. So naive.” He pauses, stepping closer until he’s standing in front of you, looking down at you as you sit on his bed. “I need you, y/n. I can’t…god, I can’t even fuck anyone else anymore without thinking about you. I can’t let anyone else have you, got that? You understand now?” He asks harshly as he runs a rough hand through your hair. 

You try to swallow the lump in your throat. You look up and nod weakly, causing Rafe to flash a devilish grin. “Yeah?” He asks quietly, his voice coming out low. 

“Yeah…” You mumble back brainlessly, too shocked by your best friend's confession. You had always thought Rafe saw you purely as a friend. Although thinking back, you don’t know how you ever thought that with how he acts, especially lately. 

No time is wasted as Rafe quickly leans down, capturing your lips with his. The first kiss is hesitant, and you don’t kiss back. But when he pulls away to look at you, trying to gauge your emotion, you lean in. Your best friend takes that as a sign to continue. His lips quickly find yours again. When he feels you start to kiss back, he escalates things. Kissing you more roughly now, acting as though he’s a starved man and your lips are his meal.

His hand moves from the back of your head to your throat, lightly squeezing. At first you don’t even realize, too distracted by the feeling of his tongue entering your mouth. But when Rafe squeezes your neck even tighter, you move your hands to reach up and wrap around his wrist in an attempt to pull it away. Your mouth still occupied by his, the kiss is too fucking good to break. It feels like everything you didn’t know you needed. He’s giving you what nobody else could, because only he knows exactly what you need and exactly how to give it to you. Your lack of breath reminds you of your situation and you pull away from the kiss momentarily.

Rafe’s grip loosens as he pulls his head back so he can look into your eyes. “Tell me you want this.” He mumbles breathlessly. 

You search his eyes as you catch your breath. Nodding, you finally speak up. “I want this.” You say definitively.

Not even half a second later, Rafe’s body crashes down onto you, pushing you down so that you’re laying on his bed. Rafe has one arm beside your head, holding himself up as his other remains on your neck. He hovers over you, one knee pressed between your thighs. Rafe leans down, his lips attaching to your neck, kissing and sucking frantically at your skin. He’s been waiting so, so long for this. 

His lips find your ear, softly biting at it before whispering. “Let me take care of you, baby. You want that, hm?”. While waiting for your response, his free hand traces down the side of your body until it reaches the hem of your skirt. He moves his face to the other side of your head, giving some attention to your other ear. “Need your best friend to help you feel good…give you what you need, yeah?” His hand slips under your skirt, slowly gliding up your inner thigh, sending shivers through your whole body.

“Yes–” A moan escapes your lips, interrupting you. Your eyes meet his before you continue. “Please Rafey…need you…”

His lips meet yours at the same time his hand meets your clothed cunt. He kisses you sloppily, exploring every part of your mouth with his tongue. Your hands come up to rest on his chest, your touch sending shocks through him. He rubs you through your panties. He can feel as you grow more needy, the wet spot on your panties getting larger. 

He can’t believe this is actually happening. He’s wanted to do this to you for so long; he’s dreamt of this moment happening in almost every way possible, but this…he never could’ve imagined this feeling. “Fuck…you’re so wet f’me already.”

“Ray…please…” You can’t help but rut your panty-clad cunt against his hand, searching for friction. Usually you’re never this bold, but you’re comfortable with him. You always have been, he is your best friend after all. You just pray that he understands what you need. 

Except Rafe doesn’t respond in the way you had hoped for. No, instead he pulls his hand out from under your skirt, eliciting a whine from you. He presses a genuine, wet kiss against your parted lips before moving down your body. Rafe slides down, kneeling onto the floor in front of the bed. He grabs you by the back of your knees and tugs you down towards him until your ass is at the edge of the bed. Without breaking eye contact, he swiftly removes your skirt. He spreads your legs, making them bend so your heels are on the edge of the bed. Eagerly, he presses wet, sloppy kisses up your inner thighs, his eyes trained up on you.

The sight of him like this between your thighs, doing exactly what you need…it drives you crazy. You lean your head back, letting out a moan as Rafe mouths at your entrance through the fabric your panties.

It’s not long before he’s peeling back your panties as well, sliding them off of you completely. Your legs threaten to close from insecurity, but your best friend is sure to hold them open.

“Fuck…this pussy’s even prettier than I imagined, baby. Soaked…just for me.” Rafe leans in, his mouth hovering just above your core. He silently asks for permission.

Being your best friend, Rafe knows that you’ve never done this before. No guy had ever wanted to date you while Rafe’s your best friend, they could see that you’re his, even if you couldn’t. 

His breath is hot on your bare center, he watches as you squirm and clench around nothing. Eagerly you nod, giving him permission. And within seconds his mouth is on you.

At first, he’s slow; gentle as his eyes continue to meet yours. He licks a warm stripe up your center, briefly pulling back to watch your reaction. Your head falls back, your mouth parted, and eyes closed as you experience this new sensation that your best friend is so generously giving you.

Rafe begins to lick and suck at you. His tongue circles your clit as he looks up, knowing you’d like it. A moan slips past your lips as your hand flies to the back of his head, the other gripping onto the sheets beside you. 

“Nnnghh…f-fuck, Ray…” You whine as his tongue fucks you relentlessly. He only mumbles against you in response, sending vibrations through your core. This felt even better than you had ever thought it would. When you heard people talk about sex, you didn’t think it could actually be this good. Though maybe that just has to do with the fact that Rafe’s your best friend, and he knows exactly what you need.

“Yeah?” One of his hands leaves your leg and moves to grope your tits through your clothes. “You like this, huh? You’re just a slut for your best friend, hm? Letting me have you like this…”

“N-need you…” You mutter, grieving the loss of his tongue on you. He stares at you with a devilish glint in his eyes. 

“I know, baby. I know.” Rafe’s mouth continues to work on you. His tongue gathers some slick from your entrance and brings it up to your clit, circling it with his tongue a few times before repeating the process. 

The feeling in your lower stomach is starting to build. It’s getting hard for you to sit still for him. It’s even harder for you to stay quiet. A plethora of moans escape you as Rafe’s mouth stays busy between your thighs. Your hand holds his head down, your other grips the sheets underneath you. 

“Rafe…please. S’too much, I can’t—” You whine. 

“Ah ah ah…stop running, baby. I got you. I got you.” Rafe’s grip on your thighs tightens, keeping you in place. “God,” He mutters breathlessly. “You taste…you taste so fuckin’ good. Hiding this from me all that time, hm?” He leans back down and continues his ministrations on you.

Your toes start to curl, the band in your stomach threatening to snap. Suddenly he stops and before you get the chance to look down to see why, one of his fingers is prodding at your entrance. “Gotta stretch this pretty little pussy out, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

You nod, allowing one of his thick, long digits to slowly slide into you. You almost scream when he starts to move it, his mouth working on you at the same time. Rafe adds another finger, now thrusting two in and out of you. 

“Fuck baby, you’re gonna squeeze my cock so good. Jus’ gotta get you used to this, hm? You gonna let your best friend be the first to fuck you?” Rafe asks. You nod in response, agreeing to his words. Rafe’s fingers spread apart inside you, stretching your hole, preparing you for his cock. His tongue pauses again as he looks up at you and correct his previous statement. “The only one to fuck you.” Rafe puts his head back between your thighs, his fingers fucking you mercilessly as his tongue sucks at your bud. 

You nod again, followed by a whine. “F-fuck…Ray. I-I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me, baby? Hm?” 

“Mhmm…yes, fuckk–” You respond, your fingers fighting to grasp onto the little hair he has. Your thighs begin to squeeze around him, causing him to pull his head up against the force of your hand on him. 

“Just a little more, baby. You can take it. I know you can. You gonna let me help you finish? You wanna cum?”

“Yes! Yes! Please Rafey…please let me cum.” Your begging makes him chuckle briefly before going back down on you. His tongue moves with precision, working on you with a purpose; to make you cum. 

Without warning, the band in your stomach snaps. You scream out his name as his tongue circles your sensitive bud and his fingers pump in and out of you slowly. Your best friend continues to work you through your first real orgasm. You’ve never felt anything like this. Why the hell did you wait so long to do this with him?

“God…baby. You’re so fuckin’ perfect. You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear those pretty sounds.” Rafe carefully slides his fingers out of you, making you clench around nothing at the loss of him. He gets up from his knees, standing over you again. Rafe’s face glistens with your slick. His hand moves up to brush your hair back while he brings his free hand up to your mouth. “Open.” He orders. You oblige and he pushes two digits into your mouth. “Taste that? Taste how fuckin’ good you taste?” He pulls his fingers back, immediately moving down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips. Rafe climbs on top of you, his mouth finding the sweet spot behind your ear. He whispers, “You okay?”

“Mhm…better than okay.” You reassure him. Your legs are still shaking with the aftershock of your orgasm. 

“Good.” He mumbles against your skin. “‘Cause I’m not even close to done with you, baby. We’re just getting started.” He doesn’t wait before he’s pulling off your shirt, kissing down your chest. Soon after, he unclasps your bra with one hand, pulling it off of you and tossing it onto the floor somewhere. 

His lips are vicious, attaching to any and every bit of your skin. His hands gently cup your breasts, his mouth finding and attaching to one of your nipples. His eyes stay trained up on your face, he likes seeing how you react to his touch. He pulls back, straddling your lap. Your hand shoots out to grab the hem of his shirt, trying to tug it upwards. He smirks and quickly does it himself, tossing it aside. He watches you like prey as your eyes skim over his bare chest. 

It’s not like you haven’t seen him shirtless before, you have, many times. But no matter how many times you see him like this, you’ll never get used to it. You’ve never seen him in this way though. It’s different, more intimate. You’ve never shared this kind of intimacy with anybody before. And you’re glad you’re doing it with your best friend, whom you’re comfortable with. 

The low light of his bedside lamps reflecting off of his toned skin, damp with sweat. You let out a slow breath as you take in the sight. “Fuck.” You mutter. 

Rafe leans down, kissing and nipping at your earlobe. He whispers, “Like what you see?” He laughs. 

You nod your head eagerly. “Mhmm…”

“Use your words baby, you’re a big girl, aren’t you?” 

“I…y-yes.” You whine as you wriggle underneath him, trying to squeeze your thighs shut in search of some much-needed friction.

Rafe knows what you need. He knows that you’re ready now; ready to give him everything, let him take your innocence, your virtue. He uses one hand to prop himself up as the other works at his belt. Once you realize what he’s doing, you try to help him out, eagerly unbuckling his belt as he kisses you passionately, like he’s never kissed anyone else before you; like you’re the only girl on this fucking planet. 

Once his belt is off, you work at his pants. He leans up so he can tug them off, throwing them aside with the rest of the discarded clothes. All that’s left between the two of you now is the thin fabric of his boxers. You can feel his hardened form pressing into your leg as he kisses you, practically devouring you. Without thinking about it, you find your hand tugging at the waistband of his boxers. You beg. “Please”, your lips whisper into his ear as he bites at your neck. “Rafey…”

He leans back again, this time getting off of you and standing at the side of the bed and in front of you. You can’t help but touch yourself as Rafe frees himself from the constraint of his boxers. You watch as his hard cock springs up, hitting his stomach when it’s finally freed. He smirks, leaning down to remove your hand from yourself. 

“I got you, baby. I got you. I’ll take care of you.” He mumbles, moving his hand over your core again. His strong fingers circle your clit. Your breath hitches as you watch him touch you, his other hand holding the base of his cock.

“Rafe?” You manage to ask through your cries. 

“Hm? What is it?” Rafe says your name softly, encouraging you to continue. 

“Will it hurt?” You’ve heard that the first time can be uncomfortable. And judging by Rafe’s size, this was going to be more than just uncomfortable. But that doesn’t mean you’re going to back out of the situation, you need this. You need him.

Your best friend’s expression becomes more serious as he looks at you. His hand comes up from your core to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “It might, baby. It might be a little uncomfortable for a moment, but I’ll do my best to make it feel good, yeah? I’ll go slow. And if you don’t like it I want you to tell me. You’re okay, baby. It’s just me, your best friend. I’m gonna take care of you. M’kay?” You nod in response, his eyes darting between your eyes to get a sense of what you’re thinking. Rafe clicks his tongue. “Ah, ah. Use your words, pretty girl.” His hand reaches out for your chin, tilting your face up towards him. 

“Please Ray…”

“Please what?”

“Fuck me…” The words sound so vulgar coming from your sweet, innocent mouth. He’s never known you to speak this way, but he’s not against it. He pumps his fist over his cock a few times, his head leaning back as he lets out a groan. “Please Rafe…I-I need you in me…”

Your words snap him out of his amazement. “Atta girl.” He replies. You can feel his tip gently rub against your slippery entrance. Your warm juices on his cock feel better than anything he’s ever experienced. You’re like a drug to him. A drug that he can’t get enough of. 

He pulls back before you can get used to the feeling of him. He leans over you, reaching into his dresser drawer. When he moves back over you, you see the shiny square wrapper in his hand.

You place your hands over his as he tries to open the condom. “No…”

His head snaps up at you. “No…? No what?” He asks, confused. “You don’t want to do this?”

“No…Rafe, I-I want this. I just…I want to feel you. No…no condom.” You explain.

“Fuck, y/n. Are you sure?” Rafe’s disbelief and shock is very apparent in his tone. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m on the pill.” You confirm.

“God, how much more perfect can you fuckin’ get?” He chuckles, making you huff out a quick laugh. 

Soon his lips are back on yours as he uses his hand to guide his glistening, pink tip back to your puffy cunt. Slowly, he pushes into you, just so that the very tip of his cock is inside of you. He looks up to your face, pending your reaction. 

“F-fuck…Rafe.” Your hands move to his hips, pushing him further inside. Rafe gives in, pushing another inch into you. “Mnghh, fuck…Rafe.” Rafe settles there for a moment before giving you another inch or two. Each time he moves, he looks to make sure you’re still enjoying it, giving you a minute to adjust each time. When he finally bottoms out, you feel so…full. The pain is there, but it doesn’t last long, fading into a light discomfort as your soft walls mold to his shape. You involuntarily squeeze around him.

“Shiiiitt, baby…Squeezin’ me so tight.” He pauses to kiss you, his lips soon finding that soft spot behind your ear that makes you shiver. “M’gonna move now, alright?”

“Mhm…please…” You whine. You hook your arms under his, bringing your palms up to grip onto his back. Rafe continues to kiss all over your neck and chest as he slowly pulls out of you, until only the tip is left inside. Without warning, he pushes into you a bit quicker this time, with a bit more force than before. But you’re not complaining. You cry his name out, your nails digging into his shoulders. He begins to move at a slow, steady pace as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. “F-fuck…” You yelp, gripping onto him even harder.

“Fuck, baby…your nails, they hurt.” He mumbles amusedly into your ear as he nips at it. Immediately your grip loosens. You feel terrible but can’t manage to muster up an apology since you can’t think clearly with how his cock is repeatedly kissing your cervix with each thrust. 

“Faster.” You beg, pressing your forehead into his arm. He listens cautiously, carefully picking up the face. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder. The new position allows him to hit an even deeper spot inside of you. When his digits start to circle your clit you almost let out a scream, making him chuckle. 

“Such a fuckin’ whore for me, hm?” He laughs as he fucks you senseless.

“Fuck…Rafey, no, I…I can’t. Can’t take it.” You moan, throwing your head back as your eyes squeeze shut. 

“You can and you will.” He speaks emotionlessly, overtaken by pleasure. Rafe’s hand moves from you clit up to your throat again, he applies a bit of pressure. Your hands leave his back and wrap around his wrist. Your eyes stay shut as your face contorts into that of pure bliss. His thumb slides into your mouth and you suck and bite at it, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming feeling of him fucking you. You don’t see how you can ever stop; this feeling is…unlike anything else you’ve felt before. “You got this baby. M’almost there. You can let go, baby. Just let go f’me.”

Sooner than later you feel the newly familiar feeling of pressure building in your lower stomach. When it snaps, your body tenses up, a wave of moans escape your mouth as the band snaps and pleasure washes over you. Rafe continues to fuck you slowly, his movements becoming more sporadic than strategic.

“Fuck, where do you want it?”

“My pussy, please Rafey…fill me up?” You ask, eyes wide with tears as you look up at him. “Please?”

“Shit, you sure?” Rafe groans, barely able to hold on any longer.

“Y-yes...I’m sure.” Only seconds later you can feel his warm seed spurting out inside of you. Your gummy walls soaking him in as they squeeze around him, milking him for all that he’s got.

“Fuckk y/n. Do that again.” As he thrusts into you without any specific rhythm, you obey his words, squeezing tightly around his length again. Rafe lets out a guttural moan, tossing his head back for a moment before looking at you again, watching how well you take him, as if you were made for him. The way he fills you up you is like pieces of a puzzle, just meant for one another. “Shiiitt…you’re so fucking tight. Squeezin’ ‘round your best friends cock so good.”

After you’re both worked through your orgasms, he pulls out of you. You groan at the loss of him, feeling a big opening left where he had been. Rafe leans down to press a deep, meaningful kiss to your lips. He pulls back, wiping your hair and sweat from your face with a proud smile.

“God, baby. You did so good, so fucking good. That’s a good girl. My girl, yeah?” He leans down again, pressing a kiss to your neck. Rafe whispers in your ear. “m’so proud.” Before pulling away completely, he presses a kiss to each of your cheeks, your nose, and one final kiss to your forehead. 

You turn on your side to face him as he lay on the bed beside you. “Rafe…” Your voice shows your exhaustion, but also your hesitancy.

He turns on his side to face you as well, propping his head up against his hand. “Hm?” He says with a smile. He can’t help it, it’s impossible for him to see you and not smile after what you just did. 

You flop back down onto your back, staring up at the ceiling. It’s too hard to say this while looking at his beautiful smile. “That was…” 

“Incredible?” He interrupts, his fingers lightly tracing up and down your arm. 

“What was that?” You blurt out, scared that if you don’t say it now then you never will.

Rafe’s smile fades quickly, he props himself up on his elbows, staring down at you with furrowed brows. “Woah woah, woah. Hey. What? What d’you mean?”

You give a light shrug, his fingers no longer moving over your skin. You avoid looking at his pretty eyes. “I mean like…what happens now?”

He sighs, laying back down next to you, looking up at the ceiling. “Well, you’re my girl now, yeah? I thought that was obvious.” 

“Your girl? The Rafe Cameron I know doesn’t do girlfriends.” You say lightly.

“That’s because I never wanted one. I never…needed one, I’ve got you.”

“So…we’re friends?” You ask, attempting and failing at trying to hide your emotions.

“We are, aren’t we?” Rafe responds, not knowing what his words imply or how they’ll make you feel.

“Yeah…yea we’re friends.” You say dryly. 

He turns his head to face you. “Hey. Y/N. What’s wrong? Hey…hey, talk to me.”

“Nothing, Rafe. I’m fine.”

“Jesus, no you’re not. C‘mon baby, what is it?”

“Nothing!” You snap. You’re angry about your own reaction, feeling stupid once the words leave your mouth. Grabbing the sheets, you cover yourself up.

“Did I do something? What’d I do?” Asks Rafe, making you feel worse about yourself. It’s not his fault you feel like this. “Is it what we did? Look, I’m sorry if—“

You cut him off, not being able to listen to him blame himself. “I just…I don’t think friends do what we just did.”

“Jesus, y/n. Look…” He trails off, cursing himself. “Do you not wanna be my girl or something? ‘Cause I can—“

“No, Rafe. I just…I don’t get what you mean. Your girl?”

“Yeah.” He says, confused.

“Like…your girlfriend? Dating? Us?”

“Fuck. Yes, baby. My girlfriend.” Rafe says the word as though it’s a pain to say it. “Will you be my girlfriend? Please?” You could tease him about the way he’s practically begging you.

“Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” You joke, not being able to resist. Rafe laughs, glad to hear your usual self. 

“Well, I’m kinda hoping that I’m your…boyfriend, now.”

“Hmm…let me think…” You say, tapping your chin as if this is something you need to contemplate. You can see his demeanor sadden from the corner of your eye, causing you to look over at him. “What’s in it for me?” You add, a smirk threatening to appear on your face. You can barely hold back your laughter at this point, but he still looks so sad, like a puppy who can’t have a treat. “Jesus Rafe, I thought you’d never ask.” You don’t even give him enough time to respond before you’re on top of him, his lips immediately seeking yours.

“Yeah? You mean it?” He asks between kisses, almost nervously. 

“Of course I do, Rafe. ‘Promise.” 

You always know just what to say to him to calm down his mind, he loves that about you. “Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this. God, I fuckin’ love you.” Your eyes widen at his confession, you look down at him. He’s almost just as shocked as you are. He didn’t even know he felt that way. The words just slipped out, but they felt so right. “Fuck, no, I meant—“ Rafe starts, but you cut him off. You kiss him again,  passionately. This kiss shows him exactly how you feel, somehow being more intimate than having sex with him was. 

“I love you, Rafe. I promise.” You know how he can feel like everybody is against him, so you try to reassure him as much as you can. You’re the only one who’s ever made him feel cared for; he just never wanted to fuck things up with you. “Please just…can you promise me that you’ll stop beating up random strangers who talk to me? ‘Cause I don’t care about them, Rafe. I care about you.”

This is all so new, talking to each other in this way. But it’s how you’ve both always felt. “But y/n, he-“ Rafe pauses, reconsidering his words for you. He sighs and then mumbles, “Yeah…I’ll try.” He looks back at you, you with a stern look in your eyes. “I will. I promise.”

You smile, leaning down for a kiss. Quickly, things start to escalate again. Rafe flips you both over so he’s on top. He leans down to kiss your neck, sucking and nipping at it as he works his way down, kissing every inch of you. 

“Mnmh…fuck…” You moan.

Rafe smiles against your skin. “Yeah, baby? That feels good huh?” You only nod eagerly as a response. Rafe takes hold of his already hard cock, using his fist to pump over himself a few times, letting out a low growl. He rubs his dewy, pink tip over your sticky hole. 

You let out a moan, still being sensitive from your previous orgasms. “F-fuck…Rafe, m’too sensitive, s’too much.” You whine.

“Shh…shhhh baby, it’s okay. I’m not gonna do nothin’, jus’ wanna show you how proud of my girl I am.” His mouth works it’s way down, landing back between your thighs. Your boyfriend softly bites at your inner thighs, his eyes staying trained on you as your face contorts in pleasure. Eventually he finds your soaking core, lapping up the mix of your juices. You feel his fingers gather some of your arousal, mixed with his cum. Before you know it, those fingers are deep inside your throat. “Taste that, baby? Hm? Taste how fucking good we are?” 

You nod, whining when his mouth finds your core again. His tongue flicks at your most sensitive bud, making you jump. Although Rafe only holds onto harder the more you try to run. “Baby, it’s okay. Let me take care of you; clean you up.”

It doesn’t take long until you’re yet again, a shaking, crying mess underneath him. When his mouth works it’s way back to yours, you can taste both of you on his tongue. “Fuckin’ love this pussy. I fucking love you.”

You smile a weak, tired smile at him. He rolls off of you, flipping you both on your side so he can spoon you. He kisses your shoulder, his fingers lightly tracing mindless shapes into your skin. “I love you too.” You respond as you drift off to sleep in your boyfriend's arms.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to leave more asks, I will most likely get to them at some point. Thank you!

[profundcherrylady]

SINGLE DAD!SAE ITOSHI

A/N: This isn't my usual content, but I was thinking about this scenario and I had huge baby fever so I couldn't NOT write it. I love Sae too much y'all. Also sorry for any spelling mistakes english ain't my first language.

Warnings: Mentions of death and grieving, Sae tries forcing his daughter to either eat her vegetables or go to school hungry (he doesn't go through with it)(this is a very brief scene but it could still be triggering to some people). STILL MOSTLY FLUFF I SWEAR.

Contents: Sae being a girl dad fr, y'all can't change my mind on this one, also Rin being an uncle. That's pretty much it. A little ooc (Rin mostly)

"Papaaaa" Mao complained, her voice echoing across the house and making Sae drop the dishes he was washing and walk across the house into her room to see what was going on... this time. Although he had a pretty good idea given her recent tantrums.

"Can't sleep?" he inquired, but he knew the answer as soon as she saw her curling up in her little bed and pouting, her doe teal eyes looking up to him as if to give him pity. "No, Mao, you cannot come sleep in my room."

"Why not?!"

"You've already been sleeping there all week... come on, you're a big girl, you can sleep on your own room."

"But I wanna be with you..." he sighed. It had seemed she had inherited his stubbornness, because sometimes it felt like there was just no way of making her change her mind when she was set on something. He leaned against the door a little, thinking about what to say that may change her mind.

"I know I was away for a while the last couple of weeks and I understand you missed me, but I can't have this conversation with you every single night."

"Why do you go away in the first place..."

"You know why, I have to for work." he countered, "And do not ask me why I can't bring you along, we've talked about this countless of times before. I don't go away for fun. If I bring you with me, you'll want to go everywhere with me and then you'll get fussy and mad because I'll be working all the time, or worse, you'll get bored to death in the hotel. Believe me, staying here is best for you when I go on business trips."

"But I just wanna be with you!!" his eye almost twitched in annoyance at the sight; he knew that tone of voice all too well. It was another tantrum coming his way, but still, he tried to remain calm for her sake.

"You're with me now."

"So can I sleep in your room?"

"No." then she threatened to start crying. He let out a low, defeated huff, holding back the urge to roll his eyes. She just wasn't giving up, was she? Pushing himself off the doorframe, he looked back at her before speaking. "Fine. Come on."

"This is the last time." he knew damn well that was a fat lie, but he still had to at least pretend to be firm. She would grow up to be a spoiled child otherwise, or at least that's what he was used to tell himself.

The little girl beamed, quickly jumping out of bed and running towards her father. She hopped with her arms up towards him asking to be carried, to which he complied. He wrapped his arms around her small frame and lifted her up, watching as she clung onto him as if he just came back from war or something. Could he really blame her, though? She had lost her mother and he was away all the time; it would be strange if she wasn't feeling lonely.

"Papa, sing me a song." Sae reconsidered his life decisions for a moment there, not gonna lie, but how could he honestly say no to those pleading eyes?

"Fine..." he sighed, his voice soft and low as he began humming whatever song he could think of on the top of his head. Still keeping a secure hold on her, Sae began rocking his daughter to further lure her to sleep. He held her with one arm so that he could close the door of her room, the soft click assuring him that everything was in order, and then started walking a few steps towards his.

By this point, little Mao was sound asleep on his arms, and he almost chuckled at the thought of his daughter refusing to sleep until she was with him. He carefully opened the door a few meters away and walked quitely to the bed, trying his best to not wake up the sleeping child on his arms, and set her down to rest. Once tucked in and comfortable, he let out a sigh of relief. Finally, the brat was asleep and he could be at peace. She could be so clingly and energetic sometimes... not that he cared that much, even though her restlessness was exhausting, it showed that she felt safe and loved enough to be her enthusiastic self around him without any regrets.

It was weird to him, like an unfamiliar sense of pride that surged at the sight of her young daughter bouncing around and playing endlessly. He would often look at her and think about how different her personality was from his, and how much it reminded him of her mother. Sae tried not to though, as he despised comparing his daughter to his late wife over and over again, but sometimes he just couldn't help it. From the way she smiled to the color of her hair... they were just so alike each other. He still kept all the memories from her close to his heart, which in a way made him feel guilty. Sae knew just how much his daughter yearned for a maternal figure; someone to talk to and educate her about girly stuff that he may not understand. He would watch her staring at the other kids with their moms and act like it really wasn't a big deal to avoid making him feel like he wasn't enough, but Sae knew better. It was obvious to him that his daughter absolutely adored him, and he was sure she thought he was enough, but he also knew that she missed having a mom. She missed her mom. He missed her mom too.

Normally he would avoid talking about it. It had been hard enough trying to explain to this small child that her mom wasn't coming home that night, or ever, let alone process his own grief at the loss of the only woman he once loved. If he cried, he had to do it when his daughter wasn't looking, because the last thing he needed to add to his worries was worrying his daughter to the point of avoiding everything that may set off a bad mood on him. It wasn't her fault, he just felt his heart break everytime he took her home and she pointed at a framed picture of her mom exclaiming 'Mama!' Or 'Hey mama', 'I'm back, mama', 'Miss you, mama'. He would hold back his tears and take a deep breath whenever she tried asking if she could visit her mom in the place she was at (as he initially had told her it was a place where she couldn't come back), having to explain carefully that she couldn't. She would get mad and ask why a bunch of times, but he didn't have the heart to tell her 'She's dead' straight up. He really tried to just give her an excuse like that she was sleeping forever or something, as if she was in the sleeping beauty, but then she just began asking if a true love kiss from him would wake her up. She was a child, after all, and she hadn't quite grassped the concept of death yet.

He let himself watch her sleep for a few moments, sinking in the stillness of the night. Taking care of a young child made this moments rare, and he treasured whatever rest he could get. He reached out to the nightstand and picked up the heater remote, pressing a couple of buttons to turn it on a bit; just enough to keep the room warm, as he knew nights at that time of the year could become fairly cold and he didn't want his daughter getting sick. And as expected, she got very evidently more comfortable as the room became warmer, falling into a deeper state of sleep. She had only carried her favorite bunny plushie from her room to hold onto and apparently that was all she needed to fall asleep. He plopped himself onto the bed as well and fell asleep almost instantly from the exhaustion of the day, not even caring about closing the door or the half-washed dishes he left on the sink or even the fact that he hadn't even changed his clothes. He was DONE for the day.

Although, the next day he most definitely regretted it.

He had to wake up early and finish cleaning all the mess his daughter had left throughout the day, plus now he had to make breakfast, wake her up and get her to school. Sae was a rather organized person and he would normally not find himself in this type of situation, but it seemed like ever since he became a father he was running short of time for everything no matter how much he tried to plan in advance.

"Morning." Sae greeted his still somewhat sleepy child as she yawned and climbed the chair infront of her to eat. "Slept well?"

"Mhm..." Mao mumbled, rubbing her eyes with one arm while she still clung to her favorite plushie with the other. He placed a plate on the table for her and then one for him, along with his usual morning coffee and the only damned brand of juice that she liked for some reason and that he had to drive for an hour to buy.

"Come on, eat. You have preschool today."

"Can't I skip? It's snowing so muuuuch." the kid dropped her head onto the table and sighed, clearly displeased about going to school.

"Apparently it's not snowing enough to cancel your classes. Now, please, eat."

He watched intently as his daughter took a close look at the food, pouting and feeling now rather down since she wasn't allowed to skip school. She took a couple of bites of her breakfast and she had a few sips of her juice, then she pushed her plate a little to indicate she was done.

"Thanks for the food." she was about to get off the table when she was interrupted by her father's stern voice.

"Not so fast. There is no way you're full with just that."

"Yeah I am..." such an obvious lie.

"Why aren't you eating? And I want the truth."

She pouted, AGAIN, before reluctantly giving an answer.

"It has green peppers on it..." and there you have it; this was the real challenge of Sae's day.

"I told you, they're good for you."

"But they're gross! Can I eat something else please?" this is Sae's life now. Even winning a soccer match was easier than getting his daughter to eat her vegetables.

"Mao, I spent a lot of time making breakfast for you, can you please finish your food? You still need to get ready to go to school. I don't have any time to make you more breakfeast; I have to go work."

"But... I really don't like them... please?" that was the last straw for him. He didn't mean to sound cruel, but he was tired and didn't know what else to say.

"Mao Itoshi, you're staying on this table until the last bite of food on your plate is GONE. If you don't, you'll go to school hungry and I'm not making you anything else after I pick you up. You are eating this one way or another." he almost instantly regretted the harsh tone of voice he had used, as he saw his kid's eyes begin watering. He passed his hands through his face in exasperation, took a deep breath, and walked around the table to pick her up. He exhaled, trying his best to remain calm before speaking to her again, as he could feel Mao's tears on his clothes and the little shudders she made at the effort to hold back tears. Sae patted and passed his fingers through his daughter's hair in a poor attempt to soothe her, but the damage was already done. She was holding thay bunny plush in her arms like a lifeline. "Sorry, okay? I didn't mean to be so hard on you. I woke up early to make your breakfast and you just took a few bites of it... I got frustrated, but that wasn't a reason to force you to eat something you don't like. I'm just saying, green peppers aren't the end of the world; they can be tasty."

"I guess I can eat them..." he sighed.

"No, you'll just be eating them out of guilt. You shouldn't do things you don't want to just because you're afraid of someone's bad mood." he thought for a moment. Mao eating the green peppers wasn't the ideal result now, she was hurt and vulnerable and that would only teach her that she should fear and comply which wouldn't end well on the long run... still, he did spend his time making her breakfast and didn't want it to go to waste. "Tell you what. I'll eat the green peppers for today, if you promise you'll at least try them next time, and I'll find another recipe to try to make them taste better. Sound good?" she nodded, still hiding her face from him by pressing it against his clothes. "Good. Now, I really don't have more time to make you more breakfast, so let's pick out the stuff you don't like just this once, and only this one time. I seriously need you to try to learn to eat your vegetables."

"...'kay."

"Let's hurry then; you still need to get ready for school."

Sae for sure was missing having some help on the raising of his daughter. He would never admit it though, he would try and pretend parenting was the easiest thing in the world when in reality he was fighting for his life everyday trying to shape this little human into a good person, and refraining from helping her while she failed at tying her shoe countless of times before admiting she didn't know how to do it (this is why he only buys her velcro).

He left the tiny sparkling pink shoes on the ground as he heard the doorbell, then looked at the clock hanging from the wall nearby. 8:14am, who in the world was it this early? Sae indicated his daughter to stay still on the couch before walking towards the door, and right after seeing the face on the other side he furrowed his eyebrows in surprise.

"Rin? What are you doing here?" his little brother then proceeded to push him aside and step inside as if it were his own house.

"Move, I didn't come here for you." his eyes traveled the room and eventually fell on the little girl sitting on the couch, and in a blink of an eye he had lifted the little girl up and hugged her tightly. Despite her surprise, she could obviously recognize her only favorite uncle.

To everyone's surprise, Rin absolutely adored his niece. Sure he had problems with his older brother but he didn't have to take it out on an innocent child that had done nothing to him. Besides, she was so adorable and bubbly and so NOT like Sae. Rin sometimes would stare at her in amazement, wondering how it was possible that this was truly Sae's spawn; yet the teal eyes and lower lashes were unmistakable. She was an Itoshi alright.

"Umclw Rwin!" her voice came out muffled, as she was currently being burried on his chest, but the sentiment was there.

"What are you doing here?" Sae was straight to the point, not caring about his cold tone of voice this time. And he says he doesn't have favorites.

"I just came back from my morning run." the younger Itoshi explained, still not looking at him in the eye. "Thought I'd stop by to say hello."

"To her."

"Yes, I didn't want to talk to your pathetic-"

"Language."

"Shut up."

"Don't hug her when you're still sweaty and gross, she just took a bath." he continued scolding Rin, earning a groan of frustration from him.

"Your dad is so annoying." his niece giggled at the obvious beef between his dad and uncle. She didn't really understand it but it was funny from her point of view. "Such lukewarm rules he has."

"Lukewarm!" she repeated.

"Rin, stop teaching her those words. Mao, say bye to your uncle; we have to get you to school."

"Awwwwww, can he come with?"

"Fine, whatever will get you to actually go to school. Rin, let's go."

"Don't boss me around." he complained, walking with his niece on his arms towards the door and setting her down. "Let's put on our shoes, shall we?" he took the shoes Sae had set down earlier and helped the kid put them on with ease. Of course, he had dealt with this countless of times before. Sae had the bad habit of using him as a free nanny for whenever he had to travel, which was often.

"Uncle Rin, how do you go running with all this snow? It's so cold!"

"When you run, you sweat and then it doesn't feel so cold." he finished tying the kid's shoelaces and took her by the hand, then Sae picked up a scarf wrapped it carefully around her neck.

"Don't take it off." he warned, watching as she began squirming to get away from the scratchy scarf. "It's cold out, I don't want you getting sick."

"Okay, papa." he gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before taking her free hand and not so subtly making Rin let go of her as he finally opened the front door. They were quickly hit by the cold winter air, and Mao shuddered a little at the sudden change in temperature.

Stil, Sae made sure his hand was holding hers tight and that she kept herself on his field of vision. There would be someday in the future where she wouldn't need him to hold her hand; he had to treasure these moments and not let her go while he still could.

[creamflix]

cw: reader death (multiple lives) but no explicit detail, my take on choso being a "curse"

choso had lived countless lifetimes, yet each felt like the same endless thread, woven with anguish and stitched with your face. the curse of memory clung to him like a shadow, unrelenting, never allowing him to forget. you were his constant, the cruel anchor to his torment, and each meeting was a bittersweet agony.

he remembered the glint of lantern light catching in your eyes, the sound of your voice weaving tales that charmed the village children.

always, he was the nameless, brave warrior in your stories, an unsung hero battling the darkness. choso had sat in the corner of the shrine one evening, his heart tight as he listened to your laughter.

“the warrior was so brave,” you said, your voice soft yet filled with admiration, “but he was lonely, wasn’t he? perhaps he needed someone to fight for.”

your words cut deeper than any blade. how could he tell you that it was you he fought for in every story? how could he explain that your imagined warrior was more real than you knew?

when the first frost of winter came, you fell ill. no offering to the gods, no prayer whispered under his breath could save you. he stayed in the shrine long after, staring at the empty space where you used to kneel, his fists clenched in helpless rage.

a lifetime later, he found you behind the heavy silk curtains of a grand throne room, a princess wrapped in gold and duty.

yet, it was your laughter, still as bright and free as ever, that made him weak. you would sneak out with him, skirt hitched just high enough to avoid the dew-laden grass, your hand clutching his as if the world didn’t matter.

“do you think i could run away?” you whispered once, your voice trembling with the weight of your station. “live out there? with you?”

“don’t,” he muttered, his jaw tightening. “don’t say things like that.”

but in his mind, he dreamed.

he dreamed of fields without boundaries, of nights without watchful eyes. it was an illusion that shattered when a marriage was arranged for you. he stood among the onlookers at your wedding, hidden behind a pillar, his heart burning as you smiled at another man.

your laughter was different this time — huskier, laced with the clinking of shot glasses and the hum of an out-of-tune piano. in the dim haze of the saloon, you played for a crowd that never seemed to appreciate your talent. but choso lingered, always. he would drop coins into the glass jar on your piano and request the same song every time.

“you like this one?” you’d ask, leaning closer with a teasing grin. “i’d think a man like you would want something faster.”

“it’s perfect,” he said, his gaze steady on yours. “play it for me again.”

you didn’t live long in that life either. a stray bullet during a brawl cut your song short. choso held your hand as you bled out, your voice fading like the final note of a melody. “don’t… let me go,” you had whispered.

but he did. again.

bright lights, neon signs, and synth music — this life was so different, yet you were still you. your smile was framed by pink lipstick and bubblegum, your hair teased high with streaks of color. choso sat in the corner booth every day, ordering the same milkshake just to see you glide over on those ridiculous skates.

“strawberry again?” you teased one day, spinning effortlessly to set the glass in front of him. “you know, for a guy like you, i’d expect something a little darker.”

he almost smiled. almost. “it’s not about the drink.”

“oh?” you leaned closer, resting your chin on your hand. “what’s it about, then?”

you. but the word stayed caught in his throat.

instead, he watched as you laughed, skating off to the next customer, always just out of reach.

now, in this life, he saw you again. modern clothes, a phone in your hand, but the same soul burning behind your eyes. you didn’t recognize him, of course.

you never did.

but he felt his chest tighten as he stood in the shadow of a crowded street, watching you smile at someone else.

“you’re cruel,” he whispered, his voice heavy with despair. “how many times do i have to lose you?”

your laughter floated through the air, untainted by the burdens of memory. you didn’t know the weight you carried for him, how many times he had watched you fade, how many times he had buried his heart.

for a moment, he let himself step closer, close enough to feel the warmth of your presence. when you turned, your gaze swept over him without recognition, and he felt his chest shatter.

“do i know you?” you asked, your head tilted in polite curiosity.

he swallowed hard. “no,” he said finally, forcing himself to step back.

“but i know you.”

this concept was inspired by my immortal lover sukuna post, which is a lot more soft than this one, if you wanna read that. thanks for reading 'till here <3 produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡

[colorquest]

~☆~

D: Hey, hey, how much you wanna bet I can jump from the ladder to that chest without getting hurt? D: I'll land on all fours. M: I'm not sure I really want to bet anything on that, D... S: If there's anyone who could do that, it'd be you Debbie. D: Okay both of those answers are useless to me. D: Vilmr can you at least pretend you don't believe I'll make it so I can rub it in your face when I do? V: ... 🔆 D: Vilmr? S: You look deep in thought Vilmr, what's on your mind? V: I am just starting to wonder... V: If maybe we should ask Maja, if we should be streaming this. D: Are you serious. M: Do you mean from a legal standpoint, or...? V: I am thinking more about our karma. V: What if we are attracting bad company, observing this as skeptics? D: Well then you shouldn't have to worry because you're not the one seeing it. V: I can worry for your safety too, you know. S: It's nice of you to worry for us Vilmr, but I think it's alright. D: Yeah a million jillion people have seen eclipses before and ended up okay. D: Probably. D: I mean how else would we be here right now. V: Mmh... V: Maybe...

S: Oh hey, I know we can't tonight, but... S: You know what'd be fun tomorrow night? D: What? S: We should play night tag again! 🔆 S: Since the moon's so new it'll still be extra dark out. S: I know how much you like night tag Vilmr! V: Only if it's not in the woods this time! V: I hate it when Debbie hides in the trees. V: We can never find her! D: Hey okay, nobody ever said it was against the rules. V: Well I want it to be against the rules now. D: Pssh. D: Not my fault I'm super smart and think like, five steps ahead. S: Well, we could fly down somewhere more wide open if Yuan is around tomorrow night? D: Fuuuuuuuck yes, I'd be so down. M: Oh, I don't think I can tomorrow. S: *gasp* S: Oh my gosh right, tomorrow is your first night at the comic shop isn't it? M: Yeah, but I don't mind if you guys go ahead without me! D: Excuses, excuses... D: If you're scared of getting owned just say so. M: You got me, D. M: My job is just an elaborate ploy to avoid losing at tag. S: Well maybe we could save it for another day and go comic shopping instead? :> D: What the heck, are we gonna be shopping for like, hours? D: We could still play night tag, like, we can do both-- OH! D: Ohhhhh, if we do go though, Michael you BETTER remember to bring that hat. M: Haha, of course D.

S: *yawwwwwn* S: Vilmr, you still seem pretty agitated, are you that worried? V: What do you think? D: I'm not even gonna get innnnnnto this anymore! D: Honestly I think it's just so stupid silly. D: If you don't even believe in this stuff for real, what is even your reasoning this time? V: Debbie, just because I do not worship a moon god does not mean I do not believe in bad karma. V: With or without gods, things are always at play in this universe. V: It is not stupid, not to me. V: What happens if it really is a bad omen? V: What if we're doing something really dumb right now? V: Just to say you got to see it? D: Jeez Vilmr, you gave me your cell so you could avoid talking like this! D: I might as well be replaying Maja's voicemail, you two sound so similar. V: You are impossible! M: Vilmr, we're not the only ones watching this livestream.🔆 M: I'm seeing there's at least another fifty on the same page. M: Do you think they're in trouble too? V: Yes, I do. V: I'm really starting to think this stream shouldn't be up in the first place. V: There is a reason why this eclipse is in such a remote part of the planet. V: Think about it. V: The only places this can even be observed at all are either in the middle of the emptiest ocean in the whole world, or on the furthest edge of all of Halvma. V: Nobody even lives there. V: It's almost like nobody's meant to be seeing this one. S: What do you think is going to happen, Vilmr?

V: I! V: I do not know. V: But it feels like something bad. V: The air is biting all around me, I can feel it. S: Vilmr, I don't mean this in any sort of judgemental way or anything, but... S: You tend to say these kinds of things about a lot of things. S: And things usually end up alright. V: Ah, but see you fail to realise, you use the keyword: "usually." V: As in, not always. V: Sometimes, things still go bad. M: ...you do seem to have some pretty impressive foresight from time to time, I have to give it to you. V: Thank you. D: Okay well nothing's gonna stop me from watching this, sorry not sorry. D: If it means I'll die, at least I did it watching something cool, right Samantha? S: ... D: .........Smumantha...... S: Well now I'm nervous! V: And there is good reason for this! D: Well duh, you scared her into feeling that way! D: -_-!!! M: Okay, I know I complimented your foresight just now Vilmr but I really do think it's... a bit of a stretch? M: This time, I mean. M: Like, uh, aside from the fact that this might be legally dubious, D: enough with that already we gettttt it we get it. M: I think we'll be okay. M: It's not like we're actually seeing it in real life, you know? M: It's just a projection of it, after all. S: Oh, I guess that's a good point. D: Literally such a good point, probably the best point you've ever made actually Michael. V: Blughghhhhhh...

D: It's already about to start anyways, huhuhuhUAHAH!!! S: Ahhh no okay I'm still scared! M: It's just a video Samantha, nothing divine about that! V: Maja förlåt miggggggg... D: No turning back now, scaredyturds!

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[alwaysthefool]

Love Spell (Xavier x Reader/MC)

Tags; angst, pining, comfort, happy ending, MC reader, gn reader

Warnings; ask.

Synopsis: Someone else puts a ‘love spell’ on you and Xavier doesn’t realise it at first, leaving him feeling betrayed and rejected.

Have you ever heard the saying that budding love is like a sonata? It has a soft beginning, a precipice, a rise and fall, and an end that leads to relaxing silence. This was your precipice.

You were sure Xavier would ask you out, as you waited for him under the big oak outside the forest, the Sunday afternoon breeze gentle and solemn. It was definitely a romantic place to meet, the invitation in the form of a letter left on your desk, your heartbeat quickening as you saw a silhouette in the distance.

But the person that appeared in front of you wasn’t Xavier. It was another man, a fellow hunter, someone you’d declined much earlier.

“Hey, what-“ Before you could finish, a pink glowing light from a protocore flashed your eyes, and you felt your entire constitution change.

Xavier, on the other hand, wondering where you were on the day off, went out to look for you, only to find you arm in arm with another man, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“[Name]?” He called you out gently, a lump in his throat. You looked back, your expression cold and indifferent. “Why are you with him?”

“Hm? This is my lover.” You replied, looking up to smile at the man next to you. He chuckled, kissing your forehead, making Xavier clench his fists tightly.

“Have you-“ He began, but watching how happy you looked, he couldn’t go on. “Oh, I wish you the best then.”

Xavier grit his teeth and walked away, angry, dejected, close to breaking. Didn’t you make a promise to him? Weren’t things going smoothly between the two of you? Was he too late again?

It’s fine, he thought, it was better for you that way. You’d be safer with someone else, happier too. He was from your world, he’d understand you better, and it was selfish of Xavier to want you.

He had always been selfish when it came to you.

That night, he did not have the heart to return to his apartment above yours, going to Philo instead, raiding Jeremiah’s fridge for beer.

“No ‘Hi’?” Jeremiah joked, closing the shop early to tend to the pouting prince. Xavier did not respond, chugging the beer, trying very hard to feel the hit.

“It’s non-alcoholic, dude.”

Xavier almost choked, coughing. “You couldn’t tell me earlier?”

“It says so on the package.” Jeremiah held back a laugh, knowing it was trouble in paradise that had his leader in such a mood. He tried to prod, but as usual, Xavier wouldn’t tell him anything, so he looked at your social media instead.

“Who’s this guy?” He exclaimed, disgust on his face. Xavier grabbed Jeremiah’s phone, to see the post of you with that man at a toy store, captioned ‘loml’.

He felt like crying, like screaming, something to get the pain out. Jeremiah tried to stop him as Xavier ran out, turning on his hunter’s watch, doing what he always did.

He fought without a break, without dodging, knowing it was evil of him to try and get hurt so maybe, just maybe you’d care. Maybe you’d visit him at the hospital, and maybe he could change your mind. Maybe there was still a chance. Even though you’d crushed his heart, he would do anything for those little ‘maybe’s.

When he woke up next in the hospital, another hunter was beside him, and Xavier got to know you changed your partners to be closer to him instead.

Do you hate me that much?

Did you have to go so far?

But it was too unlike you to not even visit him at the hospital or leave a text, finally making him sense something was wrong. He had faith in that care you showed him, and your heart that through time and space, had always been a loving one.

No, you wouldn’t do this.

Xavier sprinted out of the hospital bed, ignoring the calls of the other hunter and the nurses, taking a taxi straight to your apartment complex. He had been blocked by ‘you’ everywhere, and looking up the history of your new partner showed a past temporary suspension for using protocore hypnosis, a technique strictly banned by the association.

Xavier did not knock, teleporting inside instead to see you and that man slow dancing in the living room. This time, Xavier showed no restraint, pulling that scammer away from you, and searching him for protocores.

“Xavier, you’re hurt?” You asked, despite your state. Before you could start to plead with him to let you go, Xavier crushed that protocore between his fingers, lifting the trance off of you. You immediately fell unconscious, making him turn all your attention towards you. Although that gave the hypnotist a way out, Xavier knew he wouldn’t be able to run forever.

You woke up groggy, full of disgusting memories with someone you despised, and hyper alert Xavier next to you.

You hugged him immediately, and he hugged back.

“Why didn’t you come earlier?” You scolded, tears in your eyes. Xavier was as angry at himself as you were, so he could just listen, his crushed heart breaking even further. “How could you think I’d run away with another man?”

Xavier pulled away from the hug to look at you, your red and tear stained face. His expression spoke the unsaid apology as you continued.

“Next time you see me with someone else, you have to pull me away! I’m all yours, and if I’m not, then consider I’m being mind-controlled.”

Xavier’s eyes softened at that, as you continued scolding him. You stopped midway, your irritation subdued. “How did you get hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

-x-

Bonus;

As the two of you lay on your bed, finally talking out the feelings you’d been hiding, Xavier wrapped an arm around you, holding you close as he asked. “Did he touch you?”

You felt heat rise up to your cheeks, turning away from him to let him spoon you. “No, we didn’t even kiss.”

“I guess I’ll make it quick then.” Xavier mumbled to himself.

“Huh?”

“Shh… it’s not your worry anymore.”

[s-lverwing]

I’LL CHEW YOU, I’LL GO THROUGH YOU

pairing. emperor caracalla x wife!reader.

summary. What is the meaning of yet another scar upon your body and mind? When your husband’s illness twists his mind, turning him against you, and he accuses you of betrayal.

word count. 2.6k

warnings. angst, toxic relationships. heavy pinning. violence. blood. english isn’t my first language.

a/n. please if you enjoyed this leave a comment, reblog, whatever u want 🐛 I USED CARACALLA’s BORN NAME LUCIUS AT SOME POINT DONT BE JUMPSCARED.

The room was quiet tonight -- perhaps it was because the day had been full of entertainment for Emperor Caracalla, leaving him content and sated, pleased. Even Dundus, his ever-watchful companion, seemed subdued as he chewed absentmindedly on a piece of grapefruit, the soft sound barely breaking the silence. You caught the faint noise and felt the corner of your lips twitch upward—an involuntary, yet fleeting smile—as your fingers curled tightly into the delicate fabric of your dress.

Still, the knot of nerves in your stomach refused to break. It was no secret that Caracalla’s tolerance for absence was rather thin. His emotions were volatile, and the palace staff whispered of the storms that brewed when his wife strayed too long from his sight. Not even you were immune to the fear of those rages—not because you thought he would harm you, but because you knew too well the weight of his anguish when it overtook him. It wasn’t the anger itself that frightened you; it was the aftermath.

The soft sound of your sandals against the polished white marble echoed faintly through the chamber as you entered, the sound drawing Dundus’s small, curious eyes to you. His chewing ceased, his tiny body shifting toward you as though to signal your arrival. Inevitably, Caracalla’s gaze followed.

You hesitated under it, swallowing against the dryness in your throat. His eyes, so often shadowed with something too complicated to name, rested on you now, and though his expression remained stoic, there was a flicker of something—curiosity, might have been if he was another person, but Caracalla’s eyes were ready to blame you for something. It was the expression he usually gave to his twin brother, Geta. Your nerves prickled under his scrutiny, the tension coiling tighter in your chest and stomach.

Would he speak? Demand to know where you had been, his voice sharp with suspicion and laced with the undercurrent of his illness, or would he remain silent, his displeasure a force pushing you away? Tonight, it seemed he had chosen silence. He turned away, his focus shifting deliberately to Dundus. For a moment, you felt an unexpected pang of relief—until the realization hit you that his indifference might be worse than his fury.

You knew how quickly the calm could shatter, how easily the weight of whispers in the palace could drive him to the edge. They spoke of his instability, of his twin’s steadier hand, of how Caracalla’s mind was clouded by the slow and insidious progression of his illness. You had seen the way his jaw tightened, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly when he thought no one was looking.

And yet, for all his wild unpredictability and impulsiveness, you had learned to weather his storms. Others feared his wrath—his soldiers, his council, even his brother at times—but you knew the truth of it. Even when he turns away from clarity and starts asking for your head to the Praetorians guards, still, you knew better.

There had been a time when his moments of vulnerability after the storm had frightened you, when you hadn’t known how to respond to the sight of an emperor—the ruler of Rome—curled in on himself, tears soaking your tunic as he clung to you like a drowning man. But now, you know him better. You know how to reach him when no one else could. It was a power that even his twin did not possess, and it had become both your burden and your solace.

You stepped further into the room, your heartbeat steadying as you drew closer. Caracalla did not turn, his posture rigid as if he were willing himself not to acknowledge you. The silence stretched taut between you, but you had grown accustomed to its weight.

“Love—”

You didn’t even make it past his name before his voice cut through the stillness of the chamber.

“—Where were you?”

His question was soft, measured, but there was something brewing behind the words, a quiet tremor that betrayed the storm building inside him. His voice wavered, a thin thread barely holding his emotions in check. It was the calm before the inevitable storm.

You stood frozen, as though the marble beneath your sandals had turned molten, holding you in place. The space between you both seemed enormous—far greater than the few strides it would take to reach him. Not just physically, but mentally.

Your eyes flicked to his hands, trembling faintly at his sides. You’d seen this before. It was the prelude to something larger, a wave of emotion that would crash over you before you could even think to steady yourself against it.

“I was with Lucilla,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You chose your words carefully, as though you were addressing a wounded animal instead of your very human husband. Your tone was gentle.

You reached for your hair to take one of the medicinal flowers she always carries around, as a proof.

But he wasn’t having any of it—he was far too lost within his mind to care about anything you had to say. Dundus was the first to sense the chaos, clutching tightly to Caracalla’s hair as though to anchor him to reality.

“You always lie!” he roared, his voice cracking with raw emotion as he stood abruptly from his opulent chair. The first glass shattered against the marble floor, fragments glittering like jagged stars under the candle light. “You’re just like Geta! You—you and him are against me! Like everyone! So don’t lie to me, don’t lie to me… I—I know you were with him. Yes, yes! Someone told me…”

His ringed finger jabbed toward you, trembling as his accusations poured forth, each word more unhinged than the last. His breath came in short, erratic bursts, his chest heaving as though he were fighting an invisible foe. His entire body shook as he tried, and failed, to hold onto the last frail threads of composure. And even as he accused you of treachery, of betrayal, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anger. There was no room for that—not when his anguish stood so naked before you, consuming him from within. Your love for him ran deeper than any wound his words could inflict, though you didn’t understand it.

You should leave. You knew it would be easier to walk away, to leave behind the chaos that seemed to follow him like a shadow. Far away from the Emperor, you could have peace, a life unmarred by this relentless storm. And yet, you will stay. You couldn’t turn your back on him. Not now, not ever.

You exhaled deeply, your breath trembling as you steadied yourself. You knew his instincts—he would try to mimic you, to find solace in your calmness. “Who is someone, Lucius?” you asked softly, your voice a whisper, barely audible over the sound of your fingers nervously fidgeting with the lavender flower you held.

His hands flew to his temples, pressing hard against them as though he could force clarity through will. “I can’t remember!” He shouted, his frustration bleeding through every word. “It’s all cloudy… But it’s true! I believe it’s true, and if I believe it, then it is true!”

“They are lying to you,” You said gently, a quiet plea against the chaos consuming him. “Not me. I’m your wife.”

His body shuddered as his breathing grew uneven. “I could have you hung!” He roared, his voice rising to a near scream. “Both of you! You and my brother, strung up outside the city for conspiring against me! My brother and my traitor wife hanged together for all of Rome to see…”

Your heart clenched at his words, but you held firm, taking a small step closer. “Would you like me hanged, then?” You inquiere, your tone unwavering despite the weight of the accusation.

���Don’t—don’t play games with me!” His voice cracked as his hands flew to his head again, fingers tangling in his ginger curls, tugging with a desperation that bordered on pain. “You’re messing with my mind!”

His breathing grew ragged as he paced, his voice rising in anguish. “Everything has to be shared! I have nothing that is truly mine—not even my own wife! Everyone loves Geta, they respect him… they trust him. And I’m so tired! Tired of giving, tired of sharing, tired of being left with nothing!”

“Why, then?” Your voice trembled but was steady enough to cut through his mind. “Why would you believe the words of a stranger over the words of your own wife?”

“Because you’re a liar!” He shouted, spinning toward you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, his entire frame shaking as though he were holding himself together by sheer will. “I have given everything to you, and it’s never enough! It won’t be enough now that my brother has laid his filthy hands on you!” His voice broke, and his face twisted in a mix of rage and sorrow.

“You love him. Admit it—you love Geta!” He spat.

Your breath hitched, and used all your willpower not to flinch. “I don’t love Geta,” You said, with a quiet but firm tone. “I can barely stand him.”

“But you weren’t here!” His voice cracked with desperation.

You remained silent for a moment, knowing the truth was both a weapon and a fragile thing. “That’s true, I was with Lucilla…” You started softly, your voice trembling as you spoke the name. “She gave me this—”

“You alway lie!” His words cut through the air like daggers, and this time Dundus, perched nervously on his shoulder, became restless, chittering as his small claws scrambled across Caracalla’s back. The anxiety in the room was suffocating.

Without warning, Caracalla’s hands shot out, trembling violently as he grabbed one of the small vases sitting on the nearby table. His eyes, wild and frantic, never left yours as he impulsively hurled it toward you. But then, in a split second, he stopped himself. His breath caught, his hand frozen mid-throw as he saw that sudden flicker of fear in your eyes. That was when it hit him—the raw realization that the fear he thrived on, the fear he wanted and desired, was not something he ever wanted to see in you. Not in the person he loved the most.

With a strangled sound, he let go of the vase, watching it shatter violently against the marble floor, the pieces scattering besides the broken glass. The room fell silent for a moment, save for the soft, erratic sounds of his breath, and Dundus chittering.

Caracalla’s body trembled, not from anger, no, from something far more vulnerable. Something he couldn’t understand. His shoulders shook as soft sobs wracked his frame. His eyes were glossy, flickering with the first signs of tears, but he tried to hold them back, clenching his fists as if to stifle the emotion he feared would consume him.

“How—how can I fight against something I don’t remember?” His voice quivered, heavy with frustration, as his trembling hands pressed into his temples. His disheveled hair framed a face that was both tortured and childlike, caught in the haze of confusion. “I don’t—everything is cloudy,” He admitted, his words were fragile and raw.

Your heart ached at the sight of him unraveling. Slowly, you moved toward him, each step measured, as if approaching a wounded animal. You sank gracefully to your knees before him, the cold marble biting into your naked knees, avoiding the shards of glass. Your hands reached out hesitantly, settling gently atop his covered legs.

“I’m on your side, love,” You whispered, your voice soft as silk.

He stilled at your touch, his hands faltering in their frantic pressure against his temples. His wide, glassy eyes met yours, searching for something— whether it was truth, solace, or perhaps the faintest trace of reassurance you couldn’t decipher. He felt caught between the fragility of trust and the weight of doubt that lingered like a shadow over his mind.

In a second, Caracalla was subtly startled by Dundus’ quietly chewing, and before you could even catch your breath, your balance faltered. Your hand shot out instinctively, looking for anything to steady you, but the cold marble floor offered no comfort as your palm met it with a sharp glass, and a cry made home in your throat. You recoiled instantly, but not before you let the jagged shard of glass buried itself deep into your skin.

You gasped, a shudder running through your body as you stared at the blood that began to pool in your hand. The glass had left its mark, but it wasn’t the cut that stung the most. It would scar — in a similar fashion as the Emperor had made himself a place inside your heart, through blood and pain.

You drew in a shaky breath, steadying yourself as your fingers from the other hand, trembling with the sting of the wound, gently extracted the shard. The glass scraped against your skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to flinch any further. Instead, you handled it with a tenderness that even surprised you. As if your body, despite the pain, knew the way to treat the wound, knew that softness was the only thing you could offer now. Not for him, not for anyone else — but for the wound itself. It mirrored the wounds marring your heart.

All that time Caracalla’s eyes were never off you. His gaze was turbulent and wild, following your every move. He was watching you with a hunger in his eyes — but his hunger seemed torn between fascination and frustration. His element was blood; he enjoyed conflict and violence and the mark it left on the knife when it met the flesh. He thrived in those who were in pain. He loved to see the wound open and bleeding. But not on you — never on you. So he wondered, as much as his cloudy mind let him, if what he was feeling was anguish, guilt or pleasure.

As you turned your gaze back to him, his entire demeanor seemed to shift. His disheveled hair, his paller face, the pink scars beneath his makeup make him seem so fragile. In a fleeting moment, he appeared even smaller, but more human. His hands were shaking when he reached for yours, but the touch wasn’t gentle. It was desperate, uncertain, as if he couldn’t quite decide what to do with you

And still, you held his gaze, despite the blood staining your hand, despite the way his trembling fingers gripped yours—not with tenderness, but with need, a need that seemed to tear him apart even as it pulled him closer to you.

And without hesitation, as impulsive as he is — he kissed your bloodied hand.

The kiss was rough, hurried, as if he feared everything would slip away before he had the chance to claim it. His lips brushed over the wound with a strange tenderness that conflicted with the violence of the moment and his grip on your wrist. He didn’t pull back when he felt the blood smear across his pale skin. Instead, his eyes closed for just a heartbeat, as if he was drowning in your blood, in the sight of it. The red streaked across his lips, staining him as much as it stained you. It was the mark of your suffering, the scar of your devotion. And yet, you decided there was no cruelty in his touch now.

When he finally pulled away, he lowered your hand with an unsteady movement. Then, in a way that felt almost fragile, as if the very act of smiling could destroy him, he fought to offer you the semblance of a smile. His lips, stained with blood, parted in a tremulous grin—teeth bared while the gold in his mouth shone, chin red. The whole act as if to say this is me. This is us.

And you couldn’t look away.

a/n: this might be a prequel to a period sex fic ive been wanting to make….

[welcometoneverland-98]

Fire of Venus // 𖥸 Chapter 1 𖥸

The gods were not kind. They were ruthless and seemed to only favor those who didn't need them.

My father taught me early on not to anger them. "There is no rage like the gods when angered" he would often tell me. And then the war started and he was called to lead it and bring glory to two emperors who had barely been touched by the sun, let alone the fire of rage that seeped out of angry men whose land had just been taken from them.

My father was said to have been sent by Mars himself. Unbroken and undefeated in battle as he kept bringing good fortune to Rome. But I saw him as he would walk into our home, embracing his wife tightly as if he was afraid she could disappear from his grasp just like my mother had many years ago. I saw the way his eyes looked tired and broken and just done. I merely watched.

I felt an ache in my heart anytime I wanted more. I wanted to see life beyond the walls of my home, to see the parties, hear the music and meet the people that surrounded music father when he was gome, but he kept me inside. Hidden. Safe, as his wife claimed.

The daughter of a previous emperor had caught my father's eye and he had caught her heart. It had hurt at first. A constant reminder that my mother was no longer in this realm and couldn't be held anymore. Their union was painful at first but it wasn't my place to say anything and ruin my father's new found happiness. Then the pain became dull with time as she show me her kindness and told me stories of the world in her youth. My favorites were the ones with the gladiator whose name was Maximus. There was something so appealing about the bravery he had shown, even, if I dared say it out loud, his defiance. My mind couldn't help but form thoughts that couldn't be spoken aloud. About how Rome needed shaping by my small understanding of overheard conversations and whispers.

I had known peace until the invitation came along. There had been talks of my fathers arrival and his latest conquest that had been a success, but this time, when he walked into our home to greet us after a long time, he had something new.

"The emperors wish to invite us all to a feast in honor of their newest conquest" he spoke as he looked down to the ground "we are all to go this time, Anna included".

That night I had asked the gods the unthinkable, I had asked for their kindness.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

There were hands all over me pulling and tugging and almost fighting one another to make me presentable. This was to be my first time being presented to the people of Rome, not only the people but the emperors and those who attended their parties.

I heard only whispers about these places and events. Many from the people who worked for us. They giggled in hiding as they shared tales of their improper affairs with the opposite gender. The first time I had heard about their endeavors I felt like I had stumbled on something I shouldn't know about, but the more I heard the more curious I became and now I stood in my dressing chambers being prepped to be thrown into the unknown.

I had been bathed in the finest oils we owned and my body had already been dropped in my favorite silk that had the perfect sunset hues of purple and blue. It was adorned with golden accents around my waist to tighten the fabric and keep it there and my neck and fingers were filled with golden jewelry that had been gifted to me the many times my father had went abroad.

My hair was almost fone when I found myself lost in through, so lost that I didn't feel the gentle hand on my shoulder that belong to Lucilla.

She had a faint slime on her face and she looked me up and down, drinking me in as if she had never placed her eyes upon my figure until now.

"You are a sight to be seen" she adjusted the fabric on my shoulder, smoothing it out before taking the ring from her finger and holding it out to me "I want you to wear this tonight. May it bring you good fortune".

It was the ring that belonged to her father. I had admired it many times as it shone on her finger. I knew my fathers name had also been engraved inside. My hand reached out to her slowly as I gently grasped the ring in my own hand before slowly placing it on my own finger.

"I feel uneasy about tonight" I let the words slip out of my mouth as I looked up at her.

For a moment there was silence, the only thing that happened was the way her eyes adverted to the people who were still standing in the room. She looked at them, a stoic look on her face and brought up her hand to point them outside. They nodded shortly and left us alone.

There were conversations that needed to be held alone, with no prying ears to share gossip and make up stories of what was the actual truth. We were taught from an early age that opinions were to be kept to ourselves, especially when we were born a woman. We were taught to believe that we were better to be seen and not heard.

"It will be fine" she adjusted the my hair "your father shall accompany us and I shall never leave your side"

I nodded my head but there was still fear etched on my face. After all this time of longing for this moment here I was dreading it as it was finally approaching me.

A/N

Here's a new one to celebrate my new obsession.

First chapters might be smaller but hopefully they will become longer with time. Hope you enjoy it!

[bubblesgarden]

always you — john b x reader

｡˚○ navigation

summary: you and john b have been friends for years, but when kiara carrera comes along, things become different.

author's note: hi guys ! this is my very first piece of work i've posted here and i really hope you enjoy it ♡ if you did, please consider giving this a like, reblog, or comment ! feel free to give me a follow if you'd like to see more ♡

you were just eight years old when you first met john b. he had scraped knees and an untamed mop of hair, but his smile was infectious— like how the sun shone through your curtains on a summer morning, or when you listened to a song for the first time and would have it on repeat constantly. and before you knew it, you were spending every single day together. the two of you inseparable, running wild, dreaming up adventures, and sharing secrets that you swore would never leave the walls of the chateau.

for years, it was you and him— two kids hand in hand, against the world. at least, it felt that way.

but then kiara carrera came along. she was cool, easy going, and fit into the group so effortlessly that you couldn’t really blame john b for wanting to hang out with her. at first, it didn’t bother you— after all, kie was great. but slowly, you noticed the dynamic start to shift.

the days where it was just you and john b became fewer and farther between. instead of running off to hide up in the treehouse in your backyard for hours, or lay smushed up together on the hammock at the chateau while you stared at the stars to talk about everything and nothing, he was suddenly too busy. too preoccupied. with kiara. 

at first, you tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter. john b was allowed to have other friends. but as days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months, the sting of being phased out by your best friend since childhood was too much to ignore.

one night, after another gathering around a fire where you felt like a shadow in your own group; constantly being talked over or ignored completely, you decided you’d had enough.

you didn’t exactly know what you were going to say— there were too many things running through your mind that you were positive it was all going to turn into a bunch of word vomit when you’d eventually face him. or you’d end up freezing. there was no in between unfortunately. 

so when you finally approached the chateau, you found john b sitting on the porch, sipping on a beer as he gazed out at the stars. the glow of the moonlight highlighted the familiar curve of his jaw, and those messy curls you had ruffled a thousand times before.

“can we talk?” you ask, skipping the introductions and small talk. that would just make this worse, you thought. you stepped up onto the creaky wood, arms crossed over your chest, almost in a way to hold yourself together. 

he turned to you, surprised. almost like he had forgotten you existed— surprised to see you here, where you had been day after day, and night after night, during your years of being friends. it wasn’t unusual at all for you to show up unannounced, but right now, with that look on his face, apparently it was unusual. 

“yeah, of course,” he nodded, motioning for you to sit down on the tattered, old couch on the porch. sitting down beside him, you folded your arms around your knees. for a moment, the silence stretched between you, awkwardness and the sound of cicadas filling the void.

“what happened to us?” you broke the silence, voice barely above a whisper but still steady as you turn your head to look at him. he hadn’t changed much all these years— still had that stupid boyish charm that seemed to get him out of trouble, and those same, soft eyes. 

you felt him stiffen besides you, and you almost scoffed. “what do you mean?” he asks, his tone matching yours.

“you know what i mean,” you sigh, the hurt you’d been bottling up spilling into your words. “it used to be you and me. we spent every day together. and then all of a sudden kie came along, and it’s like… i don’t exist anymore.”

his brows furrowed, and you saw the guilt flash across his face. “that’s not true.” you could pinpoint his defensive tone from a mile away— the same tone he would use when he got in trouble for something he did do, but always tried to claim he didn’t. 

“isn’t it?” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head a little. “come on, john b. you barely talk to me anymore. if i didn’t come looking for you, i don’t even think you would have noticed i wasn’t around.”

“that’s not fair.”

“neither is feeling like i lost my best friend.”

the crack in your voice must’ve struck something inside him because you watched as his defences crumbled. he set his beer down, running a hand through his already messy curls as he sighed deeply.

“it wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he spoke, his voice quiet.

“then why was it?” you pressed, eyes still trained on him.

he hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting away before they finally met yours again. “because i screwed up.”

your brows furrowed, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” he said quietly.

john b exhaled shakily. “i started… feeling things i wasn’t supposed to feel. about you. and i thought if i got closer to kie, it would— i don’t know, distract me or something. make it go away.” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “but it didn’t. it just made everything worse because i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 

your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, the weight of his confession settling over you like a blanket. “so, what? you just pushed me away instead of telling me the truth?”

“i didn’t want to ruin what we had.” his voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw the fear in his eyes. “you’re my best friend, and if you didn’t feel the same way— i can’t lose you, (y/n). i thought maybe if i kept my distance, it would hurt less.” 

you swallowed the lump in your throat, emotions churning in your stomach. anger, hurt, but underneath it all, a flicker of something you had buried a long time ago. 

“john b—”

“i’m sorry,” he cut you off, voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t mean to hurt you. i just— i didn’t know what else to do.”

you searched his face, the boy you’d known for many years looking at you like he was afraid you might disappear. that you might run away and never speak to him again. 

“you’re an idiot,” you laughed softly, shaking your head. 

he looked startled, blinking in confusion. “what?”

“all this time, you were scared of ruining our friendship, and you didn’t even think to ask how i felt.”

“how you felt?” he repeated, brow furrowing. the pure confusion over his features made you want to laugh, but instead you just rolled your eyes. 

“i liked you too, john b. i still do.”

his eyes widened slightly, hope flickering in them like the fireflies dancing in the yard. “you do?”

“yeah,” you admitted, your voice softening. “but you’re going to have to make up for being a complete idiot about it.”

a slow, disbelieving grin spread across his face. “i think i can manage that.” 

before you could get another word out, he leaned in, hand brushing against yours as he closed the distance. the kiss was tentative at first, a question in the way his lips moved against yours. but when you didn’t pull away, you felt as he deepened the kiss, like he was trying to make up for all that time he’d wasted worrying. 

when you finally broke apart, he let out a breathless chuckle, resting his forehead against yours. 

“i’m never phasing you out again,” he promised.

“oh so you were phasing me out?” you tease, resulting in several pokes to your side by the curly haired male in protest.

“okay— okay! but seriously. you better not,” you said, a small smile pulling at your lips.

and just like that, it was you and john b again. always had been. always would be.

[antizenin]

𑁤 PRETTY BROWN EYES ⋮ TAKUMA INO

he hoped to swoon you with his gorgeous brown eyes and bright personality — never mind the fact that he has a girlfriend.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, takuma ino, sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs : do not interact & 5.0k words !

➛ takuma ino & fem-bodied reader, college!au, infidelity, virgin!reader, yapper!takuma ino, corruption kink, slight public groping, car sex, fingering, unprotected sex, pussyjob, creampie, momentary cockwarming, etc.

Men are such easy creatures that it’s no wonder that they’re closely compared to animals when it comes to their instincts. A woman can be nice to them once and they’ll take it as a sign that they’re flirting when it can be the very opposite. Takuma always thought of himself as a better man, but he’s proven wrong when you call for attention. Your shadow shields him from the bright lights within the large room, where you didn’t say much to him at all. In a soft voice that barely raised above a whisper, you simply asked, “Is anyone sitting here?” 

He could tell that you were a timid thing, just by the way you instinctively crossed your arms, waiting for him to answer. He thought he was a better man for always being respectful, abiding by people’s boundaries and giving women their space. He was a sweet thing and according to his girlfriend, he could make any girl swoon with his pretty brown eyes. Boyish features that are so adorably hot that he could bag any woman he wanted— according to his girlfriend. And he never took her seriously, fanning off her words, but here he is right now, wondering if he could potentially “bag” you. And he should feel guilty, he really should, but he wants to take it as a conquest now. His curiosity gets the best of him as he asks himself, could he? 

He doesn’t realize he’s staring at you until you feel a sense of discomfort, squirming at his wandering eyes. “I’ll just— I’ll just go find another seat…”

“Wait! My seat’s—” he blurts in an effort to call out for you, but you ignore him and try to find the next open seat with someone else. He curses under his breath, the professor walking through the door and asking everyone to get in their seats. Takuma slouches as he frowns, his bottom lip jutting out as he spins back in the swivel chair as he opens up his iPad. He knew what his girlfriend said was too bullshit to be true. 

The next time Takuma sees you is at the courtyard. He was supposed to be meeting up with his girlfriend for a study session as they share a few classes together under the same major, but you had completely shifted his train of thought that he made a bee line straight towards you instead. Sliding into the vacant seat across from you, he drags your attention away from your laptop and the tupperware of sushi sitting next to it. Your curious eyes quickly turn to a grimace that you best tried to hide when you saw that it was Takuma. “...Hi?”

“Hi,” he responds back in a more chipper tone, though his insides said the very opposite as his heart panged against his chest. “I wanted to apologize about what happened the last time. I was being a creep.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t expected that, the apology catching you off guard that you didn’t know what to say, but when do you ever? He stared at you with those brown eyes. He was cute, you can’t help but admit, but there’s still something unsettling about him. You’re not quite sure if that’s your anxiety talking or just how he shamelessly sat across you, startling your peace. He had good intentions, though, so you tried your best to not put too much thought into it. At the fact that he has yet to leave, you expect that he’s waiting for your forgiveness. “It’s okay.”

However, to your dismay, he’s getting himself comfortable at your self-acclaimed table for the time being, loosening one of the straps over his shoulder as he slings his backpack onto his lap and unzipping it. He asked no questions on your preference, just making himself comfortable as he pulled out his laptop and set it open on the table. His eyes glancing over at you periodically. “Hey, what’s your major? I don’t really recognize you… but then, this is a large campus, so maybe we’re just running into each other this year.”

Should I answer him? The question rang inside your head over and over, a heavy rise in your chest coming to stand as you felt at a loss of breath. He was only trying to be nice, you figured. And it didn’t hurt to be nice back, your inner monologue reminding you. “I’m a… transfer student.”

His eyes brightened at that, eyebrows rising at the newfound information. “A transfer student, oh really?”

He went on like that for the next hour until you saw a figure coming in your direction. A girl with shoulder-length hair that shimmered from a black to a blue. Piercing brown eyes that seemed deadlier than Medusa the moment they landed on her boyfriend before her eyes found yours. They shone of unfamiliarity before they sparked to anger, her perfectly threaded eyebrows knitted together before stomping towards the both of you. “Ino, what are you doing here?”

Face contorting into confusion, Takuma turns around in his seat. Having forgotten all about his girlfriend, he nearly jumps out of his seat at the sight of her. His first instinct is to reach for the phone, the quick glance leading him to curse. “Fuck. Kazua, I’m so sorry… I—”

“Don’t worry about it.” In a flash, the young man— Kazua— brushes her boyfriend off. “We’ll talk about it later.”

You could’ve sworn you heard her say, I probably wouldn’t have gotten a thing done with you there anyway. She shoots you a nasty glare as she storms away, slinging her bag over her shoulder. Takuma doesn’t hesitate to run after her, but his footsteps stagger as he takes a second to look back at you. His movement stops, where his feet shuffle and he’s unsure what to do. It takes him a moment to muster out a “sorry!” before rushing after the angered girl to explain his side of the story. Which turned out useless as Kazua had given Ino the silent treatment— this time, he’s not sure how long for.

Takuma realizes that he really doesn’t have much charm to him in ways that other men have. He learns this through every interaction that he has with you in comparison to every other guy that’s come to approach you. From what he sees, they’re flirting with you — your eyes would light up and you would smile politely as they slid in the seat next to you. They’d spark up a bit of conversation and actually get more than an ounce of words out of you. Every time he approaches you, there’s a grimace in your eyes. Or, maybe it’s all in his head. 

He never notices how you’ve come to make space for him when he approaches. Simply sliding in the seat across from you and talking your ear off. He doesn’t pay attention when you’re starting to pay a bit more attention, your hums of ‘mhm’ are soft, but still a tell-tale sign that you have been listening— that you are listening. And if he had been truly paying attention, he’d notice the small twinkle in your eyes whenever he’s near and the way your lips curve upwards when he says something interesting or humorous. He’s so caught up in his nerves that he’s blinded by anxiety.

It catches him off guard when he finds you perched at the far corner of the bar, barely noticeable if he hadn’t known you. A bar well-frequented by students of the university, Takuma liked to come here particularly after his Friday classes in the evenings to blow off a little steam. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, it was as if you had miraculously appeared there the moment his vision cleared. It was a perplexing sight because he’d never take you for someone to go to bars. However, there you sit, dressed in a spaghetti-strapped top and a denim skirt that falls a few inches below your ass. 

There’s a shred of confidence that rises within Takuma then as he walks up to you. And he falls into routine, grabbing the vacant stool right next to you. The legs scrape the ground and make you jump in fright. Turning your head, your glare quickly turns into a gaze of familiarity, smiling when you see Takuma. “Oh, hi!”

This time he doesn’t miss the sparkle in your gaze. Have you always been looking at him that way? 

Truthfully, while this had been a Friday night where he’d have come to the bar, he had another reason to be here. His girlfriend had finally messaged him, wanting to speak about things from their short break. And usually, when this arose, he wouldn’t hesitate to meet her here, but now that he was, he didn’t feel any hope in their relationship anymore. His phone buzzed in his back pocket, but he ignored its small tickle as he was completely transfixed on you. “I didn’t peg you as someone who goes to bars.”

“I’m not,” you admit. “But I needed to get out of my dorm room… and my roommate was having some guy over.”

Takuma laughs. “The roommate kicking you out sounds more like what happened.”

You nudge him, despite the bemusement in your eyes. From finding him to be a small nuisance to accepting and genuinely enjoying his presence, you’re grateful that Takuma had shown up tonight. You had felt so out of place and your drink tasted horrible. However, you didn’t want to ask for another and waste it. It wasn’t your first time at a bar, but your first time at one alone. While you were one who enjoyed solitude, the bar wasn’t one of those places where you typically sought it. You felt stupid for coming here. Now, Takuma washed away all of those nerves.

Time washed away to something nonexistent. Takuma had ordered you something that tasted sweeter, better than your other drink. He spoke up for you when you were afraid to do it for yourself, and as the night had gotten later, he had grown more handsy with you. A subtle shift in him that you left unquestioned when you felt his hand touch your thigh, him scooting a tad bit closer to you, his legs unparting yours. He continued talking to you, eyes never deterring away from yours and you couldn’t help yourself from the captivation they held. 

Was this what they called liquid courage? You asked yourself. You hadn’t had much of either drinks, an unfamiliarity swirling inside of you as you weren’t aware whether the attraction you felt towards him was genuine or what you’ve had to drink. These emotions had been sweltering inside of you for a while, but what makes now so different? Why does this patter in your heartbeat feel more distinct than the rest?

Is it the hand that continues to be so daring as he leans closer to you, invading your personal space? How he remains so nonchalant, continuously sporting that boyish charm he possesses while he talks to you. Your skirt’s risen up significantly from its original length, and the lights have dimmed to the point where no one can really detect his movement. They can’t really see how he’s gotten his hand slotted against your inner thigh, creeping closer to what he so desires right now. 

He’s stopped talking at some point, but you can’t tell when. Fingers prodding at your clothed pussy, running smooth and tandem circles right against your clit as he watches you try to keep your composure. Your posture’s become slumped, breath becoming more jagged when he applies more pressure. He has to hop down from the stool to pull yours closer, making the wood touch each other as he’s given you no time to react. Your heart simply races as you come to gasp. He tastes sweet, but you’re even sweeter. Sweeter than he’s imagined. 

Nights where he’s spent thinking about you instead of Kazua, concealing his moans and breathy grunts as his fist is wrapped around himself. Oh, how his cock leaked deplorably to the thought of you underneath him. How he’d love to be sheathed inside of your pussy for hours on end, rutting inside of you until your sweet cunt ached and only begged for him. The smell of him was so pungent that the next day, his roommate didn’t need to hear him to know what transpired during his slumber. 

You were such a cute and quiet little thing that managed to get him so worked up, that he wanted to do the same for you. He should’ve felt ashamed the moment the bartender had interrupted, asking the both of them to leave, the moment things became too obvious. His cheeks should’ve reddened like how grew flustered and didn’t want to look anyone in the face on your way out, but he felt so accomplished within himself that he couldn’t. 

You let him lead you to his car, the small silver automobile that was parked not too far from the entrance. His mind led him to contemplate, to wonder what he should do to you, where exactly should he bring you to, but the moment he heard the click of his doors open, he grabbed your hand and let his cock do the thinking for him. You landed on the leather seats with a thud and a yelp falling from your lips, Takuma hoisting you further inside by the hips as he didn’t hesitate to reattach his lips against you. 

Your skirt no longer covered your ass, hiked up so high that it was around your waist now, your bare legs ready for the taking. The heat of his hands travel up and down your thighs, your moans sounding in the car. The moment you feel his erection ground against your core does this all feel too real. Your breath quickens, but not in its haughty need but with anxiousness as a lump starts to form. Suddenly, you’re not kissing him anymore, finding the strength within you to push him off. It has him taken aback, pulling away in concern. That hunger slowly dissipates as he searches for the problem. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I—” You diverted eye contact, finding entertainment in the back of the front seats instead as you struggled to let your confession out. When you do, it’s below a whisper, hard for Takuma to hear with the sounds of the bustling night, but he catches it— “I’m a virgin.”

It should be shameful for the way he felt jovial at the confession. Something that felt so embarrassing for you to admit was something that ignited something deep inside of him. It made him realize that he truly was no better than any other man with the way his cock stirred and how suffocating the air felt even more for you. Those beautiful brown hues within his pupils pool with a darkness that’s so carnal that it has you shrinking within his hold. “Ta—Takuma?”

He snaps out of it, leaving that headspace and returning back to normal. He gets it now — why guys find it so hot to be with a virgin. That feeling of superiority and power over someone so innocent. Gosh, he should’ve expected it. Everything about you screams the word itself. He brings himself to smile, his pearly whites seeming to dazzle in the dim lights of the street lamps shining inside the vehicle windows. Your eyes— those pretty pretty eyes look up at him with concern, but his smile makes it all go away as he utters out, “That’s fine. I’ll take good care of you.”

His fingers are back to prodding at your panties, pretty pink cotton with a wet patch right at the center. He can feel your arousal bubble at every press of his thumb against your clit, rubbing circles and the infinity symbol into you. You’ve a God-given gift bestowed to him. A blessing you truly are to be splayed underneath for the taking. You moan, every action causing a reaction as you buck your hips, begging for more. Your fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt and to his skin, tugging him closer to you. You can’t think straight. There’s an ache in your back, pressed deep against the leather of the seats and the tight space is all too much. 

When you imagined this moment, you never imagined it in the back seat of a car, but you want this. You’ve convinced yourself of this and so have those eyes of his. You feel no shame anymore when he parts your panties to the side, the pad of his thumb pushing deep against you. Your juices seep from you, coating his digit in your delicacy as he goes up and down, up and down, up and down. Your inner thighs quiver, the feeling of someone’s touch much better than your own. 

He’s gentle— for the most part. He’d nip at your pump bottom lips, making them swell when he sucks at it. He marks up your skin, creating deep and dark blotches on your flesh that are too high up to be hidden with a shirt. And now that his index and middle finger have entered the mix, teasing the entrance of your sweet cunt, he’s ready to bully your insides with them in his greedy attempts to take care of you. 

He tells you, “gotta stretch you out,” when you whine. When in truth, he’s gluttonous for the sounds that you make. How, your voice gets all high-pitched and your nails dig past the fabric and more into his skin that it’s enough to bruise. However, he’ll be bashful to wake up to them. 

“Ah, Takuma!” you cry out, back arching against the seats as your chest presses into his. Bottom lip still caged by him, he bites down harshly against them and causes you to mewl out in pain. Slowly do those moans become whimpers as he batters your poor pussy with his fingers and the gnawing of his teeth against your supple flesh. It feels like a mockery when he sees you crying, cooing at you ever-so-gently as he asks, “Aww, why are you crying? I’m giving you what your pussy needs.” 

He comes to kiss them away, detaching himself from your lips to taste the salt of your tears and further soothing you with gentle kisses that contrast the drilling of his fingers. He fucks you with those two simple digits, ignoring the way your legs would flex and contract, squirming against his hold. The discomfort of the car soon went on ignored from the immense amount of pleasure, your slick drooling down his fingers as they twisted and twirled inside of you. 

A euphoric dance the two of you partnered in. It never slows down until that knot inside your stomach starts to form, a twinkle of light sparking deep inside of you as your walls pulsate around Takuma and you’re stammering out on your words. “Ino, it feels s–so good… Please, I think ‘m about’ta—”

“Yeah, yeah…” he chuckles. “I know.”

You cream all over his fingers, your body instinctively rolling your hips in efforts to feel the way you do now. He finds you beautiful like this, face contorted in immense pleasure as you gasp out an ‘Oh.’ And fuck, it’s so hot how you paint his digits in a white, that he ruts against the car seat, bashfully tasting your release. His pupils dilate, humming in delight as he presses himself down further into the seats. You’re forced to watch in awe, not that you’re complaining, bucking your hips upward in a silent plea for more of Takuma.

“God, you’re just perfect, aren’t you?” he breathes, not wasting another second with his cock concealed in his jeans. Within the tight confines of the car, Takuma shimmies out of his pants, pulling his underwear down along with it. You’ve maneuvered yourself to lean against the car door, your elbows helping you hold your weight up as you watch Takuma’s cock spring free from the tight fixtures of his pants. It’s pretty, just like him— sporting an average length and exceeding in girth. His uncut tip leaks of arousal, twitching in the stuffy car air as it wants nothing more but to feel your tight walls cage him inside. 

He bet it's nothing like his girlfriend’s. He already knows that you’re sweeter than his girlfriend’s. Your moans are even prettier and more sultry than hers. Because you have something against her, an innocence that still ties you down. And unlike his girlfriend, he’ll be the first to break it. Kazua was always straightforward, never wanting to engage in any foreplay. Never would sex last long with her, but with you? He can take his time.

Precum continues to leak from him, his mushroom head glistening in his arousal as he spreads it. So sensitive from its neglect, he hisses when he touches it. His fingers cold as he wraps his fist around it, giving it a few pumps before hovering more over you. It’s dark outside, minus the street lamps illuminating its light inside of the car. Fortunately, no one has come to see them inside. Takuma can see how your pussy still shines from your orgasm, your pussy lips parted with your creamy essence as you occasionally clench around nothing. 

His thumb has become familiar with you, pressing into your hole and eliciting a twitch from your body. He grabs your leg, a hearty grip on it as he drags you down without warning. You squeal, heart racing as your head hits the leather. Your eyes widen as both of his hands meet your hips to make the both of you further connect. He’s got your legs wrapped around him as he plays with your panties, pulling it back and letting it snap against your pussy. He watches how you flinch when it harshly makes contact with your clit, the slight jump making his cock do the same. 

With his length slotted in between your legs, he moves himself perfectly in between your folds. The pressure of his cock maneuvered in between them, alleviating an ache that was there but never to its fullest degree as you still anticipate for more. For that pop of your cherry. However, he teases you and ultimately himself. With the way he presses his tip right at your clit, letting them kiss whenever he glides upwards. 

“Please…Ino…” You beg, feeling ready for him, like you could take this big leap within your sexuality, you arch your back upwards and press it against him more. The fabric of your top and the friction of both of your chests against each other, tickling the dark nubs of your nipples and overstimulating you even further. You whine and whimper out in need, trying to pull him down and coax with the sensualness of your actions. But to no avail, he holds some restraint over himself. He wants to see how messy that pussy can get— just for him. 

Your slick drools and stains his seats, but he can’t be mad at you. How could he when he’s the cause of all of this? Outside the scene of a noisy Friday night, Takuma can hear how sloppy and loud your cunt is, how your juices sound from the motions of his cock pressed against you. The two of you is all that can be heard, yours and his wanton moans and the wet sound of your tantalizing cunt painting his cock in all that is you. It makes it all the sweeter when he finally prods at your entrance, the head of his cock barely stretching it out before you’re tensing up all nervously.

He tries his best to console you, tries telling you that you’re in the best of care, but who is he kidding when all he wants to do is ruin you. But, he still does, hushing out your nervous cries as you hold onto him so tightly. 

“Shhh…” he draws out. “You’re in good hands here—” Slowly, he enters you, careful enough not to scare you away, but still rough enough to where you’re shedding more tears than necessary. Yet, you convince yourself that it’s all part of the process, that truthfully, Takuma didn’t find pleasure in your pain. Part of it is true when the boy can’t make himself go any further the moment that he’s fully sheathed inside of you, waiting until he feels the hammer in your heart die down and until the grip on the back of his neck loosens and those pretty pretty eyes, all teary for him, finally blinks back open and a gentle nod gives him the okay he needs to keep going. 

It’s a pain that stings you at first, filled with nothing but discomfort the more he rocks his hips. But that same pain dissipates moments later, camouflaging itself with pleasure as your legs tense around him and captures him closer to you. When you cry his name, it’s no longer from the pain in your voice, but a plea for more, an approval to his ego that he’s been successful.

The rock of his car is finally the tell-tale sign that calls for people’s attention, the fog within the glass being evident to what’s happening inside. Some people hurry off in disgust, heading straight to their destination without looking back, others lingering as they find out a new kink about themselves, arousal pooling inside of their pants as well. Through all the commotion outside of the bar as people enter the establishment, whispering about it in disgust, it calls for Kazua’s attention as she’s grown mighty impatient about her boyfriend. He has never been late to the bar, but then again, he’s never been late to a study date. 

The past weeks he’s been occupied with that damn person that she never bothered learning the name of, simply looking at them and finding visceral disgust with them. It only made Kazua more upset at how Takuma wasn’t running to her anymore, pleading for forgiveness. No, he had found company in someone that wasn’t her. It made her furious. Furious enough to where she wanted to break up with him, but also not enough where she had the energy to. 

Standing from her seat around the bar, in the far corner where you previously were— with said boyfriend— Kazua calls it a night, pulling out her phone to text Takuma and tell him off and vent about how he’s such an asshole, but the whispers of some stranger before her called her attention before she clicked send. 

“They’re fucking disgusting,” a feminine voice scoffed in disgust. “Fucking like that in the parking lot— it’s not even empty!”

“Yeah, like, have some decorum and try to find somewhere more secluded at least,” their friend agrees, chiming in. “I don’t get people and their kinks these days. They’ve lost the art of shame.”

More and more people come in, speaking on the same subject, naming that the disgusting culprits aren’t too far from here. As a matter of fact, they’re a couple of steps away. In the pit of her stomach, Kazua has a feeling— a feeling that it could possibly be the man she’s been stood up by. However, she tries to convince herself that it was her nerves, her brain playing tricks on her. Nonetheless, she walks through the front door of the bar, eyes looking down both sides of the parking lot before she spots some passers-by, who just so happen to be pausing by a vehicle. They try to squint, peeping inside before they give up. 

Kazua squirms as she tries to decipher if she should seem like a perverted prick or if she should let ignorance, in fact, be a bliss. However, her feet move for her involuntarily as she clutches herself in the chill of the night. The streetlamps overhead illuminate, brightening itself on the all too familiar vehicle that belongs to her boyfriend— Takuma. 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head at this feeling of bliss, back no longer on the bottom of the seats as Takuma plunges within you with all of his strength. You’ve exceeded his expectations, proving better than his wet dreams about you as he fucks into your pussy in delight. His moans become louder than yours as he bashfully meets your pelvis with his. Your slick, copious amounts pour from out of you, dripping between the crevice of your ass. That familiar coil in your stomach returns once more, a reminder of what’s to come.

“Ino,” you cry, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Fuuuuckkk, I’m about’ta—”

He kisses you, swallowing your warning whole as well as your moans. He feels his cock twitch inside of you, his pace slowing when he pulls away. “Shit, me, too. Fuck, fuckin’ cum with me. Please.”

You nod, a high-pitched ‘mhm’ falling from you as your mouth goes dry. You clench around him, locking his cock to you as your pussy creates rings around the base of him. Simultaneously, you milk him dry, your pussy swallowing every bit of his release until it’s forced out and dripping down. The both of you pant from exhaustion, Takuma stilling his actions as he’s buried deep inside of you still. 

Those brown eyes of his. They look into yours with glee, the corners of the glistening as he smiles. One last chaste kiss he plants, gently gnawing down on your bottom lips as he’s about to fall against you. However, before he could do so, he heard heavy pounding against the glass. It calls for the both of you to sit up, desperately gasping for air as the two of you immediately suspect the police. However, the feminine voice that rings out in anger halts the male more than it does you. “Takuma!” Kazua yells from the outside, calling even more attention to the both of them now. “You better open up this door right now!”

[peachhcs]

friendsgiving in michigan

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

because thanksgiving falls so late this year, samy manages to arrange a friendsgiving weekend with everyone up at the lake house and pulls off a guest surprise in the process

2.4k words

a thanksgiving special from samy & the crew + emma cooper mention from my other au (that i still haven’t worked on). wanted to put together something fun for thanksgiving so enjoy and happy turkey day!! 🦃

au masterlist

SAMY HUGHES

FRIENDSGIVING WEEKEND AT THE LAKE HOUSE?

WHO'S FREE? THINKING 24th-27th?

RYAN LEONARD

HELL YEAH I'M IN

GABE PERREAULT

ME 2

ARAM MINNETIAN

ME 3

DREW FORTESCUE

ME 4!

WILL VOTE

u think we can bring the hagens, stiga, and buium along too?

SAMY HUGHES

yes!!! bring them all we'll have a full house this year i'm so excited!!

julianne, emma, & tell zeev's gf they're all welcome too

hannah's coming up with me

JACOB FOWLER

can't wait to be back in mich for a few days

RYAN LEONARD

gonna be the best reunion can't wait

can smitty come by chance?

WILL SMITH

shit i have a game the 25th and 27th 😔

GABE PERREAULT

fuckkkkk dude

ARAM MINNETIAN

smitty will be missed 😔😔

WILL SMITH

wish i could be there i'll be thinking of u guys ❤️

the entire house was buzzing with people everywhere either catching up with one another, cooking, or playing video games. samy was busy in the kitchen making mac and cheese while ryan and gabe attempted to help with the turkey after being put to work by samy (even though they asked if they could help her with anything).

sometimes others would pop in to see how it was going or steal some of the food knowing they couldn't eat it yet, especially jacob and drew. those two were notorious for getting a dip of something and then hurrying back out of the kitchen before samy or hannah yelled at them.

the house was filled with a lot of warmth which the youngest hughes loved. people were only in the house over the summer, so being able to fill it with people during the winter really made the girl happy, especially since she hadn't seen the boys since summer ended anyway.

the only thing that was missing was will and what no one but samy knew was that he was on a flight over right after his game to surprise everyone. she kept checking her phone to know when he was almost there so she could go out and get him. the couple planned it a few days after samy asked everyone if they were free for friendsgiving and who didn't love surprises?

"this is actually so gross," gabe complained while buttering and seasoning up the inside of the turkey. his hands were deep under the skin slowly rolling the flavoring into the meat. ryan snickered.

"sucks you got stuck with that job," the brunette taunted.

"shut up, dude," gabe rolled his eyes and samy laughed to herself at their minor bickering. her phone buzzed against the counter and her eyes flew to the screen, smiling when she saw will's notification.

"hey, gabe, you mind taking over this cutting for a second?" the girl held the knife out to the boy and he sent her a relieved look.

"yes, thank god. i don't wanna do this anymore," he scrubbed his hands off and eagerly took the knife from her to finish cutting up her potatoes.

samy swiped her phone from the counter to read her boyfriend's message.

WILL SMITH five minutes away

the brunette grinned to herself. she slipped out of the kitchen and out the back door where no one would see her leave or catch sight of will coming in when he got there. a bubble of excitement grew in her stomach knowing she couldn't wait to see everyone's reaction.

will's uber rolled down the drive and the girl's grin got even wider as she waited in anticipation on the porch. the blonde climbed out, waving to her as he grabbed his backpack and hurried up the wooden porch.

"hey pretty," he smushed her into a hug as she breathed him in and took her moment with him before everyone else took his attention inside.

"it's good to see you. everyone's inside. they're gonna be really excited to see you," she nodded towards the door. will smiled, leaning down to place a kiss to her lips, also wanting his moment with his girl before the guys stole him away.

"i'm kind of nervous, is that weird?" the blonde chuckled to himself as his gaze drifted towards the house again.

"no, but don't be. they're gonna be really excited," samy rubbed his arm and then waited for will's cue that he was ready to go inside. he nodded and she slowly pushed the door back open where everyone's voices filled their ears again.

samy led her boyfriend back towards the living room where mostly everyone was. they were scattered across the couches, chairs, and floor taking turns playing mario kart and too invested to notice the boy's presence until will knocked on the entryway.

aram's head snapped that way first. his eyes widened in surprise, shoving everyone out of the way as he jumped up and bounded his way to the blonde.

"holy shit! smitty!" aram exclaimed and basically tackled the boy into a hug. his excitement caught everyone else's attention and a whole new eruption of commotion broke out.

"yoo! what are you doing here?!" ryan and gabe came in to see what was going on, eyes wide when they saw their old friend standing before them.

samy stepped back, letting the boys have their moment together. her heart warmed seeing them all look so happy and jump around like little kids on christmas morning.

soon they were chanting "smitty, smitty, smitty" and the girls laughed at their behavior. hannah nudged her friend's arm, "now how'd you pull this off?"

"we pulled a few strings to get him out here for a day before his game on wednesday," the brunette explained with a little smile, still watching the boys take turns hugging will.

she sometimes forgot how much they all missed him too even if they didn't explicitly say it all the time. it really showed watching them all embrace will and express how excited they were to see him and spend time with him even if it was just for tonight and tomorrow before he had to get back on a plane for his next game.

after another thirty minutes, everyone settled down again. samy was finishing up a few last minute things in the kitchen while everyone else helped set up the table and find extra chairs from around the house so everyone had a seat. will stuck his head in for a moment.

"hey," he caught her attention.

"hey, what's up?" the girl wondered.

"need any help?"

"maybe just arranging all the food so everyone can just come in and grab what they want for their plates," samy explained how she wanted the food on the counters, so will quickly jumped in to do it for her.

"thank you for this. it's really great getting to see everyone," the blonde smiled softly.

"of course. i'm glad you were able to make it out," she reached up to peck his lips. will leaned in more, wanting a better kiss when she pulled back. samy giggled and obliged his wishes by leaning across the counter to kiss him better.

"hey lovebirds, the crew is getting hungry," hannah poked her head into the kitchen which broke the couple apart in a small blush.

"tell them to come in with their plates. it's all ready," the soccer player giggled.

her and will let everyone go first down the line, the boys filling their plates high. it was a good thing she made a lot of food knowing how much hockey players ate. she came back into the dining room last taking a seat right by will near the end. ryan tapped his fork against the glass before everyone started eating to get their attention.

"i just wanna say how thankful i am for all of you and getting to spend this holiday all together for the first time in two years. a big thanks to samy and her brothers for letting us stay for a few days and another really big thanks to samy for getting will here with us," the taller brunette looked at the girl who flushed under all the attention. she felt will squeeze her leg and kiss her cheek.

"also a big thank you for making most of this food. it looks amazing," gabe added and everyone agreed.

"i'm just glad we were able to make this happen," samy grinned.

"alright, let's eat!" ryan exclaimed. everyone clapped and then started digging in, the conversations flowing across the room.

the boston boys took turns sharing stories from the semester so far and filling will in on everything he's missed. hannah and samy took turns talking about what's been going on at michigan and the successful season the women's soccer team has had. julianne chirped in with things from providence and zeev and his girlfriend filled everyone in about denver and arizona. it was nostalgic hearing about the different lives everyone had been living since being together in michigan.

it didn't even feel like two years ago that the boys were playing in the usntdp and samy was graduating high school, but it was and that thought was a little scary with how much time has passed.

halfway through dinner, julianne brought out the wine. it was popped open and the bottle was a quarter of the way empty by the time everyone got a glass.

"emma and olivia might be a little new to this, but samy and will would not admit their feelings until literally we left for college," aram said with a low chuckle. the girl's face flushed while will rolled his eyes a bit. his arm was draped across the back of samy's chair, his fingers rubbing little shapes into her shoulder.

"i can imagine," emma giggled.

"they were insufferable at dev program. so, so oblivious," drew shook his head.

"well, i wanna know how gabe and emma got together," hannah chirped up. the other couple exchanged a glance, smiling at one another and everyone shared knowing smiles.

"we took french together and i sucked at econ, so she helped tutor me," the darker-haired boy explained with a bit of a blush.

"he would not tell us he was seeing her, so we had to literally find out ourselves," ryan rolled his eyes a bit.

"you guys were just being nosy," gabe grumbled making the boys chuckle.

"or you were just being secretive. either or," jacob shrugged.

"whatever. let's talk about something else," gabe shifted the conversation away from him and emma who just giggled at the teasing.

they all talked for a bit longer before helping with the dishes and getting the food put away. a lot more thanks were thrown around to everyone and then it was just samy and will left in the kitchen together after she shooed the others out promising they did enough and didn't need to keep helping with clean up.

the couple worked in comfortable silence with will rinsing the dishes and samy putting them into the dishwasher. "thanks again for this. tell jack and quinn thanks too," the blonde hummed.

"i will. they gave me very strict instructions about not destroying the house," she giggled.

"just watch minnetian and leonard. when they get beer in their systems they go kind of crazy," will laughed too and both of their eyes flicked to the living room where the group retreated to.

"i hope we can make this happen again during winter break too. hopefully this won't be the last time i'll see everyone until summer," the blonde's lips turned into a small frown.

"i'm sure we can make something happen, don't worry. maybe we'll even plan a trip out to san jose to see you play at a game. at least leno, gp, and i will," samy assured. her boyfriend's lips flipped back into a smile at her words.

"i love you," he paused their movements for another kiss which she reciprocated. they connected their lips, tasting the remnants of the wine on one another's lips.

"will get in here! teddy's about to take your nhl high score!" ryan yelled from the living room, breaking the two apart. the blonde sighed a little, the interruptions reminding him of summer and never getting a second alone.

"be right there!" he called back.

he helped samy finish the dishes before pulling her into the living room with him. will took the empty chair and then patted his legs as samy's indication to sit in his lap. she flushed a bit before cuddling into the blonde's side and fitting into the chair with him.

teddy and drew were playing quinn and jack's nhl video game where will had the highest score—something he worked hard to build up over the years. the others giggled, a bit wine drunk watching the two boys battle it out on the screen together.

"i win! i win!" teddy jumped up and reached for the high fives.

"damn. who's next then?" drew wondered and will immediately raised his hand.

"i wanna keep my record," the boy handed him the controller where will reached his arm around samy's back to hold it with both hands. she giggled, finding a comfortable spot on the boy's chest to watch the tv.

gabe took the other controller and a few of the guys oohed seeing the two best friends matchup against one another. they spent the rest of the night switching between mario cart and the other sports games samy's brothers had. it wasn't until at least 3:30 in the morning when everyone went to sleep. they all wanted to spend as much time as they could together, especially with will since he was leaving the next day.

"hey samy?" gabe and ryan stuck their heads into the kitchen one last time before going to bed where the girl started the dishwasher.

"yeah?" she wondered.

"thank you for doing this and thank you for getting will here. best friendsgiving yet," ryan grinned making the girl flush.

"of course, guys. it was really good seeing everyone together," she brought them in for a quick hug. "now get some sleep. it's late," she pushed them back to the spare room, careful not to step on the others asleep throughout the house.

when she finally got up to her room, will was already fast asleep in her bed. she smiled at his sleeping figure, shutting the lights off and climbing in beside him.

even though he was asleep, he felt her presence and turned so he could wrap his arms around her frame in a strong hold. the youngest hughes cuddled herself into will's side, kissing his cheek and falling into a deep sleep.

[anniflamma]

OK FINE same anon with the fanfic ask XD Thank u for your amazing Epic animatics and your beloved and daniel animatics, just literally everything. I hope u enjoy this little snippet thing

Darius, he finds, is a man of perplexing mind, body, and spirit. The same man that coldly executes his traitors is the same man with tears in his eyes when Daniel emerges from the den, that hauls him into an embrace so crushing Daniel thinks he’ll go to God that day anyway.

Darius is not a fool, but he wields honesty and sincerity as sharp as a blade, never steps away from his convictions while also allowing room for redefinition. He tears down all of Daniel’s misgivings and years of disillusionment and pain, to make room for hope in a future.

Darius is not a perfect man. But to Daniel, he is a miracle.

One that gives him many headaches.

“How has no one ever told you how breathtakingly beautiful you are?”

And one that reminds him he is far, far too old for this.

The other facet of Darius that gives Daniel constant pause and constant rumination, is how he uses his emotions. He is neither detached from them nor a slave to them. He carries them openly, not worn as an armor or exposed as a weakness, but instead carried like a tool, honed finely to use for any conquest to the answers he seeks.

So yes, Daniel is aware that while Darius means this compliment, he is goading Daniel for a specific response.

Daniel clears his throat—ignores that Darius poorly hides a smile behind his hand—and fans out a roll of parchment to look over the records with the king.

“I know I say it often.” Darius tilts his head to rest it in his fist. “Yet you always deflect and hide away from it. I cannot tell if this is aversion or if no one has ever paid you due compliment for how radiant you are. If it’s the former, I shall stop. If it’s the latter, then I must continue to rectify this at all opportunities.”

Usually Daniel would deflect, though not when Darius calls him out on it. He’s long grown out of blushing. So he rubs at the tension between his brows with a sigh.

“Don’t make such flagrant assumptions with no evidence to back them, my king,” Daniel replies, with his most level advisory tone he can muster. “I was a young man once. You are not the first.”

He doesn’t know why he entertains this, but he does know it makes his heart race when Darius’s eyes light up with intrigue. Lord help him.

“Oh? Pray tell, who?”

Daniel rolls his eyes up and slowly counts to three. “Just about all the royal courts I’ve served when not trying to kill me.”

Darius’s brows predictably raise. He is quiet for a moment, schooling his reaction that Daniel wishes he would read. “I see.”

His mouth turns, a fine line of contemplation, and then asks, “Were there advances?

Of course there were. He wonders where this will go, if Darius will rear jealousy or pride over just how many have made a point to break Daniel down into his features and not his heart.

“Dare I answer that?”

Darius’s mouth tightens. “Was their reciprocity in those advances?”

No.

Daniel looks away. “I remember being summoned here for taxes, King Darius.”

Darius hums softly.

“I apologize for overstepping. I never intended to open old wounds.”

He is so disarming, his ability to reach past ever defense and seek Daniel exactly for what he is. His sheer strength and respect for another’s state of being will always rattle him to the core. Daniel looks back to him.

“It’s alright.”

Darius studies him, unwilling to break from their eye-contact and Daniel finds himself accidentally caught in the thousands of ruminations flickering in those warm eyes.

Darius sighs and straightens up. He leans across the table, palm fanning out of the parchment so that his fingertips brush the side of Daniel’s palm.

“As it stands,” Darius murmurs. “I did not know you as a young man. Has anyone ever told you how you shine now?”

Daniel’s cheeks heat before he can remind them he is not a teenager anymore.

“I don’t need flattery.”

“I’m not.” Darius leans down closer and Daniel shivers at the suddenness of their shared body heat. “I also have no intention of advances.”

Darius plucks the parchment from the desk, and steps away from his space. Like the pull of gravity Daniel nearly follows the impossible force of him as he retreats.

He peeks over the paperwork with a glint like a sheer devil. Daniel’s mouth twitches. He bites.

“These bones are not made for initiation anymore,” Daniel supplies, and Darius’s eyes squint up from behind the scroll with a clear grin.

“I find your tongue more than persuasive enough.”

Oh, the lions were easier to tame.

Omg!! This is amazing!! And the amount of flirting is insane!

"Oh, the lions were easier to tame." AAAAAHH!

More pliz I'm hungry...

Also... WHY ARE YOU ANON! I WANNA KNOW WHEN YOU POSTING THE FULL FIC! >:(

[loserlvrss]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊 b. christopher ( 방찬 )

synopsis | you were so stressed out that you decided a midnight walk would be the best thing to clear your head, however so did your neighbor.

pairing : bangchan x fem!reader genre : drabble, fluff, hurt/comfort warnings : language, bit of angst word count : 539 authors note : oh to be validated

The post-midnight air felt crisp as it swirled around you. Your hands shivered as you shoved them in your pockets, shoulders coming up and chin down to turtle further into your jacket.

You’d had a lot of thoughts crossing your mind tonight, tormenting your peace. And the moonlight coming through your window—beautiful and bright…and mocking—somehow made them worse. It’s been a difficult couple of months, to say the least, the last week being arguably one of the worst you’d had all year; from one thing, to another, it’s like the world was against you. And winning.

You thought a walk could clear the echoes. It’s not like you were sleeping anyway, tossing and turning in your sheets all night.

“Shit—” Your hands shot from your pocket, cushioning against a fleshy yet still firm surface. You hadn’t realized you were looking down until you finally leveled your sights on…your neighbor?

You were quick to apologize, “I’m so sorry.”

You refuted, “It’s my fault. I-i’m sorry. I should’ve been looking where I was going.”

You’d only seen him a couple times, never actually talking to him. Not that you'd had the actual chance to, only catching him as he’d round a corner or be halfway through his apartment door. And if you were more outgoing you might’ve called out to him one of those times, prompting an introduction. But you’d always let him disappear behind a wall or a closed door before you worked up the courage to.

“Are you okay?”

You huffed, “Metaphorically or literally?” You didn’t mean to ask—to burden him with your problems. Afterall, you’d never actually talked to him before apologizing.

And what a first impression it was.

“One of those days,” He replied, posture finally relaxing a bit after making sure you were stable. “You’re my neighbor, aren’t you? Moved in like half a year ago? Chris, by the way.”

“Y/n.” You met his eyes, and honestly you couldn’t tell if they reflected yours or if you just wanted them to. “It’s been one of those weeks, Chris.”

He let a tight-lipped smile of acknowledgement spread momentarily, “Yeah…” He mumbled the rest, “Like a car crash waiting to happen, but you won’t pull over?” But through the silence of midnight air you heard him loud and clear.

You hummed, teeth squeezing the skin on the inside of your bottom lip. And maybe it was the acknowledgment that made you teary-eyed, but you choked it down—like you had been all week…month—and let out a deep breath. ”It could be worse,” you remarked, looking past him, eye catching on the small flakes that danced through the air. They landed on his dark hair, disappearing with the residual body heat. It was beautiful, and maybe in hindsight you’d just lost sight of what you needed the most; a little joy in your life. Wasn’t that what the season was about anyway? Your voice barely cracked, “right?”

His breath reached in front of him, the tail end adorned with a small smile, “Wanna walk some more?” You nodded, “We don’t even have to talk.”

And somehow, despite Chris not knowing you for more than a few minutes, he did reflect you. And maybe that’s actually what you needed instead.

please reblog and like <3 comments are appreciated ! thank you 4 reading © loserlvrss 2024 all rights reserved. 

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back to masterlist !

[lovebittenbyevans]

Behind The Curtain | Part 1

Summary: When you and Toji thought you both finally went your separated ways but it turns out not everything is all that it seems to be when you both can’t escape the one thing you wanted for so long – Divorce. As Toji tries to get back into the spotlight you both began to wonder if this was ever real between you two or fake

Pairing: Actor/Ex-Husband! Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader

Warnings: cursed words

Author note: This will be a short series.

Part 1

Seeing him again you did not know what to think of it. You forgot how fast a year can go by quickly but you would always remember how he looked. You picture him in your head so many times but eventually you know this isn’t what it used to be.

You clear your throat as you pull out the chair to sit across from him. “Toji.” It was eight o’clock at night and you were in the mood for something warm to drink.

Toji takes a sip of his coffee and leans forward in his chair a bit. “Thank you for meeting me, babygirl.” You notice he had on a hat that says ‘better yourself’ while wearing trimmed black sunglasses along with a white shirt and blue denim jeans.

“Toji, cut to the chase.” You tell him seriously. You don’t have time to hear his fake sobbing stories this time and excuse.

He trailed off. “Always straight to the fucking point, huh?” He reached inside his red jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. “Remember how we finally got divorced from each other and my lawyer helped us out?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed. “Yeah, why? Your lawyer finally admitted she is a scammer and a piece of shit.”

“Well…” Toji exhaled loudly as he unfolded the paper and slid it towards you. “Apparently we are still married to each other.”

You took the paper and looked at it for a moment. “What?” You carefully read what was written on the paper.

11/4/23 –Toji Fushiguro and Y/N Fushiguro are still happily married

Your eyes slowly looked at him. “What the fuck!?” You scoff, shaking your head.

He lowered his hat down as his eyes were on you. “I know, look, I feel the same way you do.”

“You better get a fucking good lawyer this time and fixed this!” You raised your voice a little.

He leans back against his seat. “I know but we have another problem.” You didn’t want to hear those few words at all.

Before you open your mouth to talk, your phone vibrates against your jeans pocket. “That's definitely important.” He said.

You take your phone inside your green jeans pocket and check to see what showed up on your screen.

Actor! Toji Fushiguro and Y/N Fushiguro are happily married a year ago

Your eyes widened immediately when you saw the headlines. You seriously wanted to vomit and crawl into a hole.

Fuck!

“How? W–What?” You were speechless and shocked at the same time.

Toji took one last sip of his drink and said. “It was too late before I could call my publicist to ask them to get rid of the story.”

Your mind had too many thoughts right now. That bastard lawyer for not filing the papers correctly. You wanted to scream loudly but you already knew it was not going to make your problem go away.

“Too late?” You raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that?” A part of you didn’t believe him one bit.

He took off his black shade sunglasses and pushed his chair back. “Look, I know you don’t believe anything I tell you anymore but I’m telling you the truth.”

You scoffed. “How long do we have to wait this time to finally go our separate ways.”

“Um, well…” He rubs his chin while looking at you. “She thinks this might help my image. I have trouble staying out of scandals.”

You shot him a look. “Excuse me? Are you–Sharon is a fucking joke.” You got up from your chair and pushed it underneath the table. “That’s not my problem, you can’t control yourself T.”

You were ready to walk out the door when he grabs your wrist, forcing you to look at him. “Wait, how long are you going to be in London for?”

You glanced at his hand on your wrist before looking at him. “My flight leaves today like I told you over the phone.”

Toji took off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Stay.” His piercing dark blue eyes were fixated on you.

You let out a chuckle and pulled away from him. “Goodbye T.” You walked out of the coffee shop, struggling to keep a straight face.

[chimneyz]

"You don't find it, you make it"

Buck has lived with those words for years now, those words lived in the back of his mind for some time, honestly he nearly forgot about those words. But recently those words have resurfaced in his mind coming to the forefront. Buck stopped looking, knowing that it would never just stumble upon him, he had to make it. And he wanted to make it with Tommy.

Buck was never great at gifts for his partners, (family and friends were easy, partners on the other hand...) but Buck knew exactly what he was going to give to Tommy this Christmas.

It was June, Buck started to do his very delayed spring cleaning around his loft. (Who could blame him for doing it so late, his life has been a whirlwind and it just started to slow down) Luckily for him he actually had some help this year with it, Eddie and Maddie have refused to do so ever since he moved into the place. It's not like Buck needs the help, he's a grown adult, but it's nice to have the company. This year he had Tommy to help.

"Hey," Tommy smiled with a small peck of the lips while walking into Buck's apartment, "Eddie warned me to stay as far away as possible while you had a clipboard in your hands... should I be concerned?"

"What?" Buck scoffed, he's gonna have to have a word with Eddie when this was all over, "I am just proficient, there is nothing wrong with having an organized list!"

Buck grabbed Tommy by the hands leading him to the kitchen, "We are going to start at opposite ends and meet in the middle, I need you to first start with reorganizing the fridge. Here I made a crude chart of what it's supposed to look like." Buck shoved a clipboard into Tommy's hand-labeled 'kitchen', "And don't do it like how you have your fridge, it's a complete disaster, follow the instructions."

"There is something wrong with how I organize my fridge?" Tommy raised an eyebrow.

"Yes," Buck exasperated, "Who puts raw chicken in the same compartment as their vegetables!"

"Oh I see what they meant about 'Clipboard Buck'," Tommy chuckled, "Not gonna lie Evan it's kind of hot."

"No, no flirting Mr. we have work that has to be done." Buck kissed Tommy on the cheek and headed up the stairs.

It's when Buck was cleaning up his closet when he found the scrapbook, he never knew why exactly he saved it, but there it is resting in the corner of the closet. Those fateful words now ringing in his mind over and over. Then it clicked, the light bulb over his head sprang to life. A scrapbook! It was perfect.

For the next few months, Buck would bring a camera with him wherever the two of them went, hiking, to the beach, a picnic, dinner dates, everywhere.

"Why do you keep bringing that camera with you? What exactly are you planning Evan?" Tommy asked one night.

"You'll see, you just have to be patient," Buck smirked.

He even took pictures on their casual days off, Tommy asleep in bed, Tommy cuddling with Buck on the couch, Tommy in the kitchen making morning coffee after a night of intimacy.

After a while, Buck took more pictures than he could count. By the beginning of autumn, Buck finally got the supplies for Tommy's Christmas present, he started putting it together piece by piece. It was a week and a half later Buck had the entire thing ready leaving space to add on more with a small note inside that read:

A while ago someone said you cannot find it, you have to make it, here it to our future and making us possible.

It was Christmas Eve when Buck walked into his loft alone. The 118 holiday party at Bobby and Athena’s new home filled him up with joy and laughter. He nearly forgot that he was supposed to be with someone else. He was looking forward to a day at Maddie and Chimney's home where he would spend even more time with his family. Another day to forget. But all of that rushed back to him as soon as he stepped foot in his loft. All he could think of was Tommy, his smile, his warmth, his laughter that he ached for. Tears started to sting his eyes as the door clicked behind him. He wondered if Tommy was thinking about him.

Buck rushed up the stairs, grabbed the wrapped scrapbook, and headed back downstairs. He grabbed the nearest bottle of liquor a small trash can and a few matches. Buck shivered in the oddly cool air on his balcony throwing the gift into the small metal can pouring the liquor over it. The small match ignited in Buck's hand after striking it across the side of the matchbox. He took a minute to look at the movement of the small flame, then dropped it into the small can.

Flames ate away at the glittery wrapping paper revealing the crinkly smile Buck yearned for underneath. The edges of the handmade book shrink to ash. Quickly, Buck grabbed the scrapbook unable to get go of it, his hands burned from the hot flames but he didn't care, to lose this would hurt even more. Buck dropped it on the ground stomping out the flames, in a pitiful tilt Buck gazed down at the book, gently picking it up and opening it. He went through the pages, the memories, tears started to stream down his face. Buck's body collapsed onto one of the outdoor chairs, flipping through the pages.

"I guess even making it doesn't work after all," Buck muttered choking on his tears.

[the-californicationist]

hi cail! this is sizzleee2 from another account 😅 i was wondering if you could possibly make a fic with anyone from tf141 with fem!reader who immediately after sex feels asexuel and gets a little distant, doesnt need aftercare because shes never had any and then finds out how good aftercare feels??? idk, if you dont want to then no pressure! you r just my favourite writer and i love to read your fics!!

-sk0 <3

I’m slowly making my way through my ask box, and you probably forgot about this but I didn’t! lol 😂 I don’t think I fulfilled this request though. Epic fail on my part. Aftercare?? Maybe. If you squint. I’m so sorry. I just got too horny for Gaz. Forgive me? 🩷🩷

TW: female reader, the expected amount of Kyle sass (see gif)

——— MDNI ———

Tethered

—

The skin-searing warmth of his body left you as he finished, falling away and leaving you cold and lonely. The air of the room rushed across your skin, reminding you that he was done with you. He’d used you, and much like the tarred end of a smoked cigarette, you were filthy, you were wet and sticky from his mouth, and you were no longer smoldering from his burning affection. You had been savored and snuffed out, and that was that.

As soon as his heavy frame rolled off of you, you flung the sheet away and darted into the bathroom, ready to be clean again.

You wished you could be like those girls in the movies; the ones who curled around their emptied lovers, laying her head upon his chest, letting him squeeze and fondle her as he dozed, playing in the sweaty mess of her hairline, skirting his brutish fingers along the slope of her brow.

But you weren’t. You were something else. You weren’t sure exactly what, but your past partners had called you all sorts of things. Low-maintenance. Easy-going. Little Miss Quickie.

“Hey,” the door to the bathroom was wrenched open, and in the dark portal of its frame stood your most recent conquest: Sergeant Kyle Garrick, scowling down at you.

He was still naked, as were you, and now that the sparkling fire of your pleasure had been extinguished, it was less exciting and more practical than it should’ve been. Sure, the heavy musculature of his neck and shoulders were still beautifully aggressive. The broad span of his chest was yet as inviting as it had been at the bar last night. The deep v-cut of his Adonis belt was just as tantalizing, particularly when it lead to a softer, shinier, well-used cock, still dripping desire from its gleaming slit.

“What?” You asked, turning to face him, your washcloth in hand.

“Where’d you go? I’m not done,” he asked.

As Gaz stepped forward into your space, you turned to give him your back, watching him in the mirror, feeling and seeing his enormous arms curling around your shoulders and belly like a giant kraken, ready to pull you back into the sea of his bed.

“You felt done to me,” you shrugged, continuing to wash your face, “Was it not good for you?”

The incredulous look in his eye froze you to the spot, and the suds of your soap foamed and popped across your cheek as you waited for his reply.

He pulled himself away, unwinding himself like ribbon from a spool, slipping through you like sand through loose fingers.

“It was proper brilliant. You know it was. You were there,” he laughed, a hint of bitterness tinging the edge of his mirth, “Am I wrong, babes?” Then, his timbre darkened with a quiet uncertainty, “Am I wrong?”

“No,” you turned to face him, wiping your cheek clean, “It was really nice. It’s not you. I’m just usually Ubering home by now.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, pushing back. But he didn’t shy away. He smiled, almost knowingly, as if he expected you to say as much.

“Not much of a cuddler, is that it?” He smiled a bit wider, reaching his arms around you cautiously, waiting for you to pull away again.

You shook your head, and he held your chin in one of his large fists, lifting you up to face him. He studied you, looking into your eyes as if trying to see your mind working away behind them,

“Want me to show you how?”

You met his gaze, and you didn’t know what expression you wore on your face. It was hard to even describe the emotion you were feeling, much less name it. But, when he looked down at you, he seemed to know.

Gaz grabbed your hand in his and dragged you over to the large shower behind him. He turned the water on hot and coaxed you inside. For a few moments, you thought it may be too warm for you to stand it, but as your skin became accustomed to the steam and the heat, you felt your body relax. He didn’t bother with soaping you up or washing your hair; he simply held you against him, your head tucked into his chest, shadowed by his hulking form, covering you in the oppressive warmth of his affection and the pouring water. It flooded your senses, and you felt yourself becoming more pliant to his whims, more open to suggestion, blooming under his touch like a reluctant bud, afraid of the bite from the frost you knew too well.

Because this wasn’t forever. He’d say goodbye eventually. You’d feel the sting of loneliness one way or another. Better to rip the bandage off now and get it over with. Right?

“Hey, come back,” he held your jaw in his strong fingers, making you meet his eyes again, “That’s it. Stay with me, baby. You don’t need to go anywhere. Don’t need to do anything. Just be here, right now, with me. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t know why, but you rejoiced to hear those words. There was something in the way he insisted, something in the comfort of his steady, unhurried embrace that allowed you to melt down into his arms.

When he began to rub you down, chasing the rivulets and currents of the cascading water, you didn’t feel rushed. There was no urgency. He fondled you and caressed you; he squeezed your soft breasts in his palms, but he wasn’t after an orgasm - not yours nor his. He just wanted to touch you.

You felt his hand find your tender pussy, his fingers stretching their way into your hole, still sore from taking his challenging length, still slick from the sticky mixture of your come.His fingertips pressed inside of you, and it was his turn to sigh, his body relaxing into yours, warm to his bones from how joyful he felt at being so welcomed into your hot core.

Pressing your head into his chest, you let yourself live in the moment. You were allowing yourself to be in this steamy limbo with him, feeling him as he was feeling you and yet in no rush to the finish line.

“I’ve got you, babes,” he kissed your forehead, pushing into your cunt even deeper, rocking rather than thrusting his hand against you, letting you grind your hips into the heel of his palm, “I don’t wanna stop. But, if you —“

You shook your head, and even though you weren’t looking at him, you felt him smile. You whispered into his chest,

“It’s alright. We don’t have to stop.”

“Come back to bed with me, then,” Gaz demanded gently, his voice holding a stronger challenge than it had before, steeled by your precarious consent.

You looked up at him, unsure if you could give him what he wanted, but you were willing to try.

You nodded, and he flipped off the water, reaching out of the door to wrap you in a big towel. You watched him dry off quickly before leading you back to bed. He climbed in before you, turning back the duvet, giving you a shadowy little burrow to stuff your body into. You turned away from him, your back to his chest. You held your breath in your lungs still for a moment, wondering and waiting, but once you felt his skin on your skin, you could relax again.

Reaching behind you, you found his hard prick and guided it so that he would slip between your legs, nestled right below your lips, curving through your chubby thighs and up against your mons. The trembling sigh that came from his throat as his cock slotted itself into place lit a fire in your chest again, reigniting the once-cold embers.

He thrust himself against you, testing the waters, waiting for you to reject his advances, but you canted your hips, letting the wetness of your hole glide against the body of his cock, licking him like a mouth as he rutted between your legs. His tongue was on your neck, his hands were on your breasts and belly, his scent invaded your nose; he was everywhere. You didn’t have a chance to second-guess yourself or your smoldering excitement because he was like the steam from his shower; he suffocated your doubts with his desire.

“That’s my good girl,” he muttered against your kiss-bitten flesh, “Use her on me like that. Just like that.”

Gaz reached down to cup your mons, his fingers cradling his head each time he fucked his cock against your folds, keeping it pressed into the slit of your wet quim, nudging your clit every time he shoved himself forward. You helped him, rocking your hips back and forth, matching his rhythm, listening to the soaked, milking noises your sex was making with him.

“See?” He whispered, slurring his words from the pleasure that he was stoking inside of himself, using you to build his fire back to a high roar, “A cuddle isn’t so bad. That’s why you gotta stay here in bed with me, baby. Give me a chance to get hard for you again, yeah?”

You nodded, moaning in agreement, arching your neck to give him more room to work his mouth on you. He took advantage of it right away, feasting on your sensitive skin, raking his sharp teeth across you like the flat edge of a knife, stinging but not ready to draw blood.

“Wanna take you again. Let me have you,” he snarled, all his gentility burning away against his blazing want.

Before you could so much as whimper his name, his hand pressed down until his cockhead was prodding against the soft mouth of your cunt, waiting for your body to swallow him whole. He held his breath as he dipped inside of you. He went slowly, inching his way through your soaked walls, drowning his long shaft in its familiar sheath, groaning and shaking from the bliss of it.

You twisted your hand in the sheets, nearly screaming from the pleasure, too full to move, overstimulated and yet begging him for more with the hungry grind of your hips.

Then, he used his heavy body to shove you beneath him, rolling you onto your belly, pinning you beneath his chest and wrapping his arms around you, stealing away any chance of your escape. But you didn’t want to escape, not anymore. All of your thoughts had been rewired and rewritten with his ink pen, reminding you that you were his to take.

“Ungh, fuck!” He bit down on the nape of your neck, whimpering in a dark, gravelly tone, “Just like that. Squeeze me, baby. Use that fuckin’ pussy on me.”

“Gaz…” You keened, feeling the edge of your orgasm rising within you like a white-hot sun.

“What?” He snapped a little cruelly, “Still wanna go home? Fuck that. Not done with you, baby. Gonna make this tight little pussy remember the shape of me, yeah? I’ll keep you hungry for it.”

As your legs began to shake, Gaz fucked himself into you even deeper, reaching too far and stretching you too wide, forcing a wall of pleasure to slam into your core, making you clench around him that much harder. You felt yourself flood with your own sticky come, and right at the top of your blinding joy, you heard him hiss against your ear, chuckling in a teasing, devilish tone,

“That’s what I thought. Not goin’ anywhere, are ya?”

[delusionalfanficwriter]

Kristie & Her Firefighter (Ariana OG character)

The air smelled like roasted chestnuts and city streets—Kristie loved this time of year, the way the crispness of fall wrapped itself around everything like a warm scarf. She held Ariana’s hand tightly as they walked through downtown Seattle, both savoring a rare day off together. Ariana had been practically glued to Station 19 since she joined the crew a year ago, trading her cleats for turnout gear after retiring from soccer. Kristie couldn’t be prouder, even if she hated the late nights and early mornings that came with the job. Ariana was a hero, plain and simple.

“What are you thinking about?” Ariana asked, her voice low, carrying that calm confidence that had drawn Kristie to her in the first place.

“You,” Kristie admitted with a grin, bumping her hip against Ariana’s. “And how lucky I am.”

Ariana chuckled, squeezing Kristie’s hand. “I’m the lucky one.”

They turned a corner, and that’s when it hit them: the acrid smell of smoke, sharp and unmistakable. Kristie stopped in her tracks as Ariana’s head snapped toward the source. About a block away, a small house was engulfed in flames, the orange and red licking hungrily at the sky

“Oh my God,” Kristie gasped.

Ariana didn’t waste a second. “Call 911,” she said, her voice sharp and commanding. Her hand slipped out of Kristie’s as she started toward the house.

“Ariana, wait!” Kristie’s voice cracked, panic setting in. “You’re not on duty!”

But Ariana was already moving, her pace quickening as shouts erupted from the growing crowd of onlookers. A woman stood on the front lawn, screaming, her words fractured and frantic.

“My babies! Please! They’re still inside!”

Ariana froze mid-stride. Her breath hitched, her mind processing the weight of those words. Her feet moved before her brain could catch up, instincts and adrenaline taking over. She turned back to Kristie, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“Call 911. Tell them there are kids trapped inside.”

“Ariana, don’t!” Kristie yelled, her voice cracking as Ariana broke into a full sprint toward the inferno.

The heat was immediate, pressing against Ariana’s skin like a wall of fire even before she reached the doorway. Smoke billowed out, thick and black, stinging her eyes and clawing at her throat. She crouched low, instinctively pulling her hoodie up to cover her nose and mouth. The roar of the flames was deafening, drowning out everything but the erratic pounding of her heart.

“Hello? Is anyone in here?” she shouted, her voice hoarse and strained.

The muffled sound of crying cut through the crackling of wood. Ariana dropped lower, her hand skimming the floor as she followed the sound. She moved quickly but carefully, navigating through a haze of smoke and heat that seemed to cling to her like a second skin.

“In here!” a small, panicked voice called from somewhere in the back.

Ariana pushed forward, the heat intensifying with every step. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, the air thick with smoke and ash. She found them in the kitchen—a boy, maybe seven, and a little girl no older than three. They were huddled under a table, the boy shielding his sister with his body.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” Ariana said, her voice as calm as she could make it. She crouched down, extending her arms. “We’re going to get out of here, I promise. Can you walk?”

The boy nodded, clutching his sister tightly. Ariana didn’t hesitate. She scooped the little girl into her arms and grabbed the boy’s hand, leading them toward what should have been the front door. But when she turned the corner, her heart sank. Flames had engulfed the entryway, cutting off their exit.

“Damn it,” she muttered, scanning the room for another way out. The fire was spreading faster than she’d expected, the structure groaning under its own weight.

They were almost there when the beam gave way, crashing to the floor inches from where they stood. Ariana shielded the kids with her body, her heart pounding as she scrambled to her feet.

“Almost there,” she muttered, more to herself than to them.

...

Maya Bishop jumped out first, followed by Jack, Travis, and the rest of the crew. Kristie ran to Maya, desperation etched on her face.

“Ariana’s in there!” she yelled.

Maya’s face darkened. “Of course she is,” she muttered. “She can’t help herself.”

“She heard there were kids inside,” Kristie added, her voice trembling. “Please, get her out.”

Maya nodded, already strapping on her helmet. “We will.”

Inside, Ariana was backing toward a window, shielding the kids with her body as flames roared around them. She felt her strength flagging, the heat pressing in from all sides, when she heard the faint but unmistakable sound of her team’s voices.

“Ariana! Where are you?” Jack’s voice boomed through the chaos.

“In here!” a small, panicked voice called from somewhere in the back.

Ariana pushed forward, the heat intensifying with every step. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, the air thick with smoke and ash. She found them in the kitchen—a boy, maybe seven, and a little girl no older than three. They were huddled under a table, the boy shielding his sister with his body.

Outside, Maya and Jack breached the front door, the heat and smoke hitting them like a freight train. They moved quickly, scanning the house for signs of life. Jack spotted movement near the window and shouted to Maya.

“There! By the living room!”

Maya nodded, motioning for him to cover her as she moved toward the window. Through the thick smoke, she saw Ariana, clutching a little girl with one arm while guiding a boy with the other.

“Ariana!” Maya called, her voice muffled by her mask.

Ariana’s head snapped up, relief flooding her face. “I’ve got them!” she shouted back.

Jack smashed the window with the butt of his axe, clearing the way as Maya reached in to help. They got the kids out first, handing them off to Travis, who waited outside. Then Maya extended her hand to Ariana.

“Come on, let’s go!” Maya yelled.

Ariana hesitated for a split second, her legs trembling from exhaustion. But she grabbed Maya’s hand, letting herself be pulled through the window just as another beam collapsed behind her.

The flames roared behind them as Maya and Jack helped Ariana through the shattered living room window, their movements swift and methodical. Once outside, Ariana leaned forward, hands braced on her knees, coughing a few times but quickly straightening up. She brushed soot from her face, giving Maya a lopsided grin.

“Not bad for a retired athlete, huh?” Ariana quipped, her voice raspy but laced with humor. She turned to Kristie, who was already rushing toward her. “You see that? Still got it.”

Kristie didn’t bother with words. She threw her arms around Ariana, holding her tightly despite the soot and sweat. “You scared the hell out of me,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Ariana patted her back, chuckling softly. “Come on, babe. I’ve done worse. You’re dating a firefighter, remember?”

Jack, standing nearby, shook his head with a small grin. “She’s been one of us for too long—she thinks this is normal.”

“Definitely normal,” Ariana said, cracking a crooked smile as she wiped her forehead, leaving a streak of soot across her face. “Save some kids, ruin my hoodie, get yelled at by my girlfriend—just a day off.”

Maya smirked but kept her eyes on Ariana, her sharp gaze catching the subtle tension in her posture. “Yeah, well, don’t think you’re out of the woods yet. You inhaled a lot of smoke in there. We’ll check you out back at the station.”

“I’m fine, Bishop,” Ariana said, waving her off. “Stop mothering me.”

But as she said it, she wavered slightly, just enough for Kristie to notice. Kristie stepped back, her brow furrowing as she looked at Ariana more closely.

“Ari, are you sure you’re okay?” Kristie asked, her voice tinged with concern.

“Yeah,” Ariana replied, though her smile faltered. She took a shaky breath and blinked rapidly, her vision swimming for a moment. “I just... need a minute.”

The words barely left her lips before her legs buckled. She stumbled forward, and Maya caught her, lowering her gently to the ground.

“Ariana!” Kristie’s voice cracked as she dropped to her knees beside her.

Jack was at Kristie’s side in an instant, gently pulling her back. “Kristie, give them space,” he said softly but firmly, his arm steadying her as she started to panic.

Maya crouched next to Ariana, her voice calm but commanding. “Ari, stay with me. Can you hear me? What’s going on?”

Ariana’s head lolled to the side, her breathing shallow and erratic. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused, and she struggled to speak. “Just... tired,” she rasped.

“Her breathing’s too shallow,” Maya said, glancing over her shoulder. “Travis! Get me oxygen now!”

Travis sprinted to the truck, returning seconds later with a portable oxygen tank and mask. Maya placed the mask over Ariana’s face, adjusting it carefully.

“Come on, Ari, breathe,” Maya urged, her voice tight but steady. “Deep breaths. You can do this.”

Ariana’s hand twitched, as if she was trying to push the mask away, but her strength was fading. Maya pressed two fingers to her neck, her expression darkening as she checked her pulse.

“It’s fast, but weak,” Maya said. “She’s crashing.”

Kristie let out a strangled sob, and Jack tightened his hold on her, his voice soothing. “They’ve got her, Kristie. Maya knows what she’s doing.”

Kristie nodded, tears streaming down her face as she clutched Jack’s arm. “She was fine two minutes ago,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “She was joking with me.”

Maya’s voice cut through the chaos. “She’s compensating for something. We need to figure out what.” She leaned closer to Ariana, her tone softening. “Ari, listen to me. Did you hit your head? Do you feel any pain?”

Ariana blinked sluggishly, her lips moving under the mask. Maya leaned closer, straining to hear.

“...chest... hurts,” Ariana whispered, her words barely audible.

Maya’s jaw tightened. She looked up at Jack and Travis. “It might be smoke inhalation, but if she’s saying chest pain, we can’t rule out a cardiac issue. We need to move her now. We’re taking her ourselves. Jack, help me get her on the stretcher.”

Jack nodded, releasing Kristie and moving quickly to Maya’s side. Together, they lifted Ariana onto the stretcher, securing her as carefully as possible.

Kristie clung to Travis, her breathing ragged as she watched. “Is she going to be okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“She’s tough,” Travis reassured her, though his own worry was evident. “She’ll pull through.”

As they loaded Ariana into the back of the truck, Maya turned to Kristie, her expression softening. “You’re coming with us. Get in.”

Kristie didn’t hesitate, climbing into the truck and taking Ariana’s hand. “I’m here,” she whispered, her tears falling freely. “I’m right here.”

Maya sat beside Ariana, her eyes locked on the monitor as they sped toward the hospital. Her hand rested lightly on Ariana’s arm, her voice steady as she spoke.

“Stay with us, Ari,” Maya murmured. “We’ve got you. Just hang on.”

The sirens wailed, the urgency of their mission echoing through the night.

The ambulance’s sirens wailed, drowning out the pounding of Kristie’s heart. She sat next to Ariana on the narrow bench, clutching her girlfriend’s hand as Maya worked efficiently beside her, her focus locked on the monitor displaying Ariana’s vitals.

“She’s still tachycardic,” Maya muttered, frowning at the screen. “Heart rate’s through the roof, and it’s irregular. Damn it.”

Kristie’s stomach twisted. “What does that mean? What’s wrong with her?”

Maya glanced at her, her expression professional but tinged with concern. “It’s likely from the smoke inhalation—carbon monoxide poisoning can cause arrhythmias. But until we run tests at the hospital, we can’t rule out other things, like if she hit her head or had some kind of cardiac event.”

Kristie’s grip tightened on Ariana’s hand, her knuckles white. Ariana stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open for a moment before sliding shut again.

“Ari, hey,” Kristie said, her voice trembling. “Stay with me, babe. You’re scaring me.”

Ariana’s lips moved faintly under the oxygen mask, but no sound came out. Kristie looked at Maya, her panic bubbling over. “Why isn’t she saying anything? She was talking before.”

“She’s slipping in and out of consciousness,” Maya said evenly, though the tightness in her jaw betrayed her worry. “That’s why we need to keep her oxygenated and monitor her. If her rhythm worsens or her oxygen levels drop—” She stopped herself, not wanting to say the worst aloud.

Maya pulled out her phone, typing a quick text with one hand while keeping her other hand on Ariana’s wrist, checking her pulse. Kristie caught a glimpse of the name: Carina.

“Emergency. Ariana’s in bad shape. Meet us at the ER. Kristie needs you.”

Kristie blinked back tears, focusing on Ariana’s face. Her girlfriend’s usual fire and humor were gone, replaced by pallor and shallow breaths. “Come on, Ari,” Kristie whispered. “You’re tougher than this. You don’t get to scare me like this.”

Ariana’s eyes fluttered open again, glassy and unfocused. “Kris...tie,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

“I’m here,” Kristie said quickly, leaning closer. “I’m right here, baby. Just hang on.”

“Hurts...” Ariana’s hand twitched weakly in Kristie’s grip.

“I know, I know it does,” Kristie choked out, tears streaming down her face. “We’re almost there. Just hold on a little longer.”

Maya’s voice cut through the tension. “Her rhythm’s worsening—V-tach,” she said sharply, her hand moving to adjust the defibrillator pads already attached to Ariana’s chest. “I’m prepping for a shock if it doesn’t stabilize.”

Kristie’s world tilted. “Shock? What do you mean? Maya—”

Maya placed a steadying hand on Kristie’s shoulder. “If her heart doesn’t stabilize, we might have to shock it back into rhythm. It’s scary, but it’s what she needs. I won’t let her crash on us.”

Ariana stirred again, her eyelids heavy as she looked at Maya, her voice barely audible. “Bishop... bossy... as always.”

Maya huffed out a short, relieved laugh, though her eyes stayed on the monitor. “And you’re a pain in the ass as always. Stay awake so you can keep sassing me, Ari.”

Kristie let out a shaky laugh, relief momentarily breaking through her panic. “You hear that? You’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

Ariana’s lips curved into a faint, ghost of a smirk before her head lolled to the side again.

“Damn it,” Maya muttered. She glanced at the paramedic driving the ambulance. “How much longer?”

“Two minutes,” the Travis called back.

“Two minutes might as well be two hours,” Maya muttered under her breath. She checked Ariana’s pupils, frowning at the sluggish response. “If she hit her head in there, we’ll need neuro imaging. But right now, the arrhythmia is our top priority.”

Kristie’s breath caught. “You think she hit her head? Maya—”

“We don’t know for sure,” Maya interrupted gently. “But the smoke, the heat, the falling debris—anything’s possible. Carina’s meeting us at the hospital, okay? She’ll help explain everything. You’re not alone in this.”

Kristie nodded, though her heart felt like it might shatter. “You texted her?”

“She’ll be there for you,” Maya said. “You’re part of this family now, Kristie. We take care of our own.”

The ambulance hit a bump, jostling everyone inside. Ariana groaned softly, her eyes flickering open again. “This... sucks,” she whispered.

Kristie let out a tearful laugh, stroking Ariana’s cheek. “Yeah, it does. But you’re going to be fine. You hear me? You’ve got too much attitude to go anywhere.”

Maya grinned faintly, watching the monitor. “She’s stabilizing for now. Let’s hope it holds until we’re at Grey Sloan.”

As the ambulance pulled up to the hospital, the doors swung open, and the trauma team rushed to meet them. Maya climbed out first, barking orders as they transferred Ariana to a gurney.

Kristie hesitated, frozen in the moment, until she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned to see Carina, her face calm but filled with compassion.

“Kristie,” Carina said softly, her Italian accent grounding. “Come. Let them work. You can stay with me. We’ll stay close.”

Kristie nodded, allowing herself to be guided as her world spun around her. “She’s going to be okay, right?” she asked, her voice breaking.

Carina squeezed her shoulder, her voice steady and soothing. “She’s strong. And she has all of us. We won’t let her go without a fight.”