#why he be looking a little too fine though

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have your fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“never thought you’d ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he pulls his shorts off and you start to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. you’re gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel-hah-taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you on his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance and making you jolt at the feeling. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away. he kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant, it’s salty and sloppy but it distracts you enough. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and he bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him. every thrust sends your whole body upwards but his grip on you keeps you close, he’s almost fucking you back onto him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.” rafe moans your name at your request, his voice sounds so wrecked you clench down at the sound alone.

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. although he wants to tease you he can’t hold back much longer either and it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. your head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, your cunt is milking him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time to come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft skin. the white contrasts the blue and purple that is starting to bloom around your neck and tits.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

[theoneandonlysourcandy]

HARLEY SAWYER X TOY READER

OK OK I KNOW IT SOUNDS BAD BUT READ IT, YOUR NOT A KID OR ANYTHING IN THIS PLSASE GUYS-also uggiivvoh it felt so awkward writing some of this WHYYYY and I’m so used to over explaining everything because of how character ai bots work I’m trying not too gjfjggjj

Machine Harley:

📺 - When He had been turned into this. . Machine, he couldn’t see you at all anymore. The one person he cared about-the one tolerable person-the one person he LOVED. Could he at the very least get to see you?

📺 - But, after the hour of joy, when he had managed to hack into the cameras and reunite with each other, it was like he had gained a part of himself again. He has very little sympathy and care in him, and all of it goes to you and you only.

📺 - He can’t help but feel some sort of resentment of you though, your like all the other experiments he made, those aggressive and bloodthirsty animals. But, your not like them, so why does he feel this way? Perhaps it’s just how he is.

📺 - He’d try his best to give you both a better life down here. There’s not much, but, it’s certainly better than how any of those pests are living.

📺 - He usually keeps you close, or, just watches you on the cameras. You and him need to be careful-your more fragile as a toy. Like, actually, what if your made of porcelain? Or stuffing-fabric is easy to tear, isn’t it?

📺 - If you break, he could easily fix you up, but he will be a bit mad about it. He told you to be careful, didn’t he? But, he can’t entirely blame you for it.

📺 - He’d randomly pick you up in a princess carry if he needs too. . Or if he just feels like it. And he can very easily, being a robot now. Your feet hurt? He’s carrying you. Your tired? He’s carrying you. Your perfectly fine? He’s carrying you. It makes him feel powerful.

Human Harley:

🩺 - He had no choice. He couldn’t let you die, it was his only option.

🩺 - He keeps you close to him most of the time. He misses you, even if your right there. It doesn’t quite feel like you. He wishes he could hold your hand one more time without it feeling plastic, or plush. . Or metal-you get it.

🩺 - He’d let you wear his lab coat, it’s a little big on you, but It’s comfortable. Plus, it makes you look smaller, and adorable.

🩺 - No way in hell would you ever be used like huggy wuggy or mommy long legs. If anyone tried to turn you into some sort of marketable plushie or even get the idea, he would be fuming. That is his wife! But they were only children.

🩺 - Your probably the one toy in that whole factory that’s around to roam freely, not confined to a cell or a game station. He’d keep you far away from any of the bigger bodies or the prison, though, even if you know what truly goes on behind the scenes now.

Chat this is so ass 💔

[solxamber]

Giving Them Chocolates on Valentine's Day with: Scarabia

Go here for other dorms

Kalim Al-Asim

You barely get the chocolates into Kalim’s hands before he lets out the happiest gasp you’ve ever heard in your life.

“Whoa! For me?!” His eyes light up, shining with so much pure joy that you swear the room itself gets brighter. He holds the box like it’s a treasured artifact, handling it with both hands as if he’s afraid he might drop it.

“Yeah,” you say, grinning despite yourself. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

And now, he’s beaming. Like, so bright, so full of excitement, so overwhelmingly Kalim that you don’t even get the chance to process it before—

He’s spinning you.

He grabs your hands and twirls you around in pure celebration, laughing so brightly that you can’t help but laugh too, even as the sudden movement nearly makes you dizzy.

“You like me?!” he asks—even though the chocolates should’ve made that obvious, even though he’s already dancing with you like he just won the world’s biggest jackpot.

“Yes, Kalim, I like you!” you say, laughing as he twirls you one more time before pulling you close.

“This is the best day ever!” He’s grinning so big it’s ridiculous, so full of warmth and giddy excitement that it’s honestly contagious. “I like you too! So, so much!”

Your heart swells. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” He laughs, squeezing your hands before suddenly clapping his own together, eyes sparkling. “We gotta celebrate! Oh, I know! I’ll throw a party—no, the biggest party! Fireworks, music, so much food—”

“Kalim—”

“—and everyone’s invited! Oh! Maybe we can get a whole parade going, and—”

“Kalim!” You grab his shoulders before he starts planning a nationwide festival. “It’s Valentine’s Day. You don’t have to throw a whole party.”

He blinks, processing this. Then, without missing a beat—

“But we’re dating now! That’s a huge deal! That calls for a party!”

You sigh. You should’ve expected this.

But the sheer delight on his face, the way he’s so effortlessly overjoyed about being with you, makes it impossible not to laugh again.

“…Fine,” you say, shaking your head fondly. “Go ahead and plan your party.”

Kalim cheers.

And before you know it, you’re pulled into another twirl, laughing as he spins you around again, his excitement sweeping you off your feet.

Jamil Viper

Jamil stares at the heart-shaped box in your hands like he genuinely can’t comprehend what’s happening. His usual sharp composure falters just enough to reveal something unmistakably surprised—maybe even a little vulnerable.

“…For me?” His voice is quieter than usual, hesitant in a way you don’t often hear from him.

You nod, shifting slightly under his gaze. “Yeah. I made them for you.”

He doesn’t take them right away. His dark eyes flicker to the chocolates, then back to you, like he’s waiting for some kind of catch. Like he needs confirmation that this isn’t some kind of misunderstanding.

And you get it. You do. Jamil isn’t the type to expect people to choose him.

Which is why you steel your nerves, swallow the last of your hesitation, and just say it.

“I like you,” you tell him, firm and certain. “That’s why I made them.”

That gets him.

Jamil’s breath catches. His fingers twitch at his sides. He looks at you with genuine surprise—not his usual exasperation, but something real.

“You’re sure?” he asks, almost cautious.

You exhale a quiet laugh. “Yeah, Jamil. I’m sure.”

He watches you for a moment longer—like he’s memorizing your expression, like he’s letting himself believe it. Then, with just a little hesitation, he reaches out and takes the chocolates from your hands, holding them carefully, like they mean something.

“…Thanks,” he murmurs, almost shyly. And then, before you can dwell on how ridiculously cute that is, he gently takes your hand.

The warmth of his fingers catches you off guard, but before you can react, he squeezes your hand just slightly, his usual confidence flickering back in place.

“You free tonight?” he asks, his voice soft but just a little teasing now.

You blink, caught off guard by the shift. “Uh, yeah?”

A small smirk tugs at his lips, but there’s no mistaking the way he flushes slightly. “Then come over for dinner,” he says, lightly brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “I’ll make something good.”

Your heart stutters. “You’re cooking for me?”

Jamil rolls his eyes, though his expression is far too fond to be annoyed. “I just said that, didn’t I?”

You grin. “Guess I should've confessed to you sooner, huh?”

Jamil scoffs, letting go of your hand—but you don’t miss the way his fingers linger.

“…Just don’t expect me to make dessert,” he mutters, but there’s no real bite to it. If anything, he looks quietly happy.

And honestly? So are you.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[bahablastplz]

Battleground: Minho x Reader

Prompt: "Hii, i was wondering in you could write a one shot of alpha!minho x Alpha!afab. They met through their friend/roommate Jisung who is an omega, and they are enemies and Jisung has to break up their fights, but this one time they end up having sex while fighting for dominance." Content: Smut, angst, omegaverse, enemies to lovers, switch/dom Minho, switch reader, alpha reader/alpha Minho, afab!reader WC: 5000 Note: hi yes I got carried away with this but this was super fun to write. enjoy!

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You should have never trusted Jisung. This is often a motto of yours, actually, seeing as he’s responsible for nine out of every ten instances of trouble you find yourself in. But he has big pleading eyes and he can be so convincing that you throw caution to the wind every time he speaks. 

You needed a new roommate. Your old one bailed on you (thank god, because she was actually the worst). She was filthy and never cleaned up after herself. She left dishes in the sink, piles of trash for you to take care of, and was blatantly rude. You let out a sigh of relief when she told you she was moving and it took all of two days for her to fuck off for no apparent reason. She left your life as violently as she entered it, however, leaving piles and piles of her junk for you to take care of as well as half of the rent once again. 

You wish that you could lie and say that you could afford it by yourself but you simply couldn’t. It was just too far out of your spending limits and so… you needed to find a new place to live. 

When Jisung suggested you come to live in his spare bedroom, it really didn’t seem like that bad of an idea. You knew the omega well enough; he wasn’t the cleanest in the world but he’s a step up from your old roommate for sure. Plus he was one of your closest friends. If anything, you knew you would feel comfortable around him. The only reason you had hesitated at first is because everybody always tells you not to live with your friends. Somehow you doubted this would be an issue with Jisung though. 

It would be fine, right? You’ve heard only good things about his other roommate, Minho. Jisung jokingly refers to him as his platonic soulmate sometimes but you don’t really know anything else about him. You were a little weary about sharing a living space with two omegas and all, being an alpha yourself, but you were no asshole alpha. They would have nothing to worry about. 

Once again, you should have never trusted Han Jisung. 

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“What are you doing? You’re going to scare her away!” You hear through the door of the apartment. You’re a little unsure when you hear muffled shouting and you feel an uneasiness in your stomach that you ignore but you can’t help to continue to listen. “Why are you acting like you don’t want her here?” 

��Because I don’t. We don’t know her!”

“You don’t know her. I know her perfectly well and you should trust my judgment.” You use this as the opportunity to knock on the door which swings open to a wide-eyed Jisung. He looks guilty of something and you’re confused before it hits you all at once. 

The apartment reeks of cinnamon. Every crevice and corner is dripping of the strong smell to the point you can hardly smell Jisung’s vanilla, even if you really focus. That’s when you come to the realization that Jisung’s roommate isn’t an omega… He’s an alpha. One intentionally covering the whole apartment with his smell before he even gets to know you to assert his dominance. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes at the stereotypical alpha behavior and you resist the urge to cover your nose at the smell. Just because Minho is being rude doesn’t mean you need to be rude in return. 

And before you can even say anything to greet him, he’s walking away and slamming his door shut. You give Jisung a look and he’s already looking at you apologetically. 

“I’m sorry,” he winces. “I really am. He’s not usually like this, I swear. I don’t know what’s going on–” 

“Jisung,” you interrupt. “You never told me he was an alpha in the first place!” 

His mouth opens slightly in a small ‘o’ shape. “I didn’t?” 

You sigh at him and take a deep breath. “Just help me with these boxes, okay?” And as if he’s eager to be back on your good side, he helps you without a fuss. 

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It’s two entire days before you even see Minho again. It agitates your own alpha, really, knowing that there’s someone else in your living space you haven’t gotten a proper chance to meet and scope out. But you’ve finally gotten yourself settled into your space and you have to admit it’s nice being so close to Jisung all the time. 

You stumble out of your room after an afternoon nap to find him cooking in the kitchen. It takes you by surprise, honestly, because for someone who has already tried to be so stereotypically alpha, it just seems like a very… omegan activity. You tell yourself it’s not polite to pass judgments on someone you hardly know, especially regarding their secondary gender, so you don’t say a word about it. You do, however, make an attempt to properly introduce yourself.

“Hello,” you say lightly. Minho’s shoulders tense up for a second before they relax. “I’m Y/N.” He doesn’t turn around and he doesn’t say anything. You make a face from behind him, where he can’t see you. What is his deal? You lean against the wall, trying to think of a way to make conversation. If this were anybody else, you wouldn’t bother but… you’re doing this for Jisung, after all. This is supposed to be one of his closest friends aside from you. “How long have you known Jisung for?” you try. 

“Longer than you,” he scoffs. This catches you off guard as you’re not quite sure what to make of the statement. Is he trying to be possessive over the omega or is he just trying to show you that he’s winning whatever competition this is? 

“Oh. How long would that be? I’ve only known him for two years or so, but we’ve grown really close–” Minho finally spins around and you make eye contact for the first time. His harsh gaze is the first thing you really notice about him, his feline eyes sharp as they stare daggers into you. He’s very pretty, you note, and it almost pisses you off even more. How can someone so attractive be such an asshole? 

“You’re not my friend,” he says, pointing a wooden spoon at you threateningly. “This was my space first and you have no right to intrude and try to be buddy-buddy with me. I don’t know you.” His words are blunt, to the point. He turns back around and… god, he’s trying to assert dominance again by shutting you up and ending the conversation here! Better yet, his cinnamon scent spikes and swirls around the room, haunting you. 

You won’t retaliate with your own scent. You’re better than that. But that doesn’t mean you’ll let some alpha think he’s better than you and shut you up without a fight. “Who’s fault is that?” you spit. Minho freezes so you continue. “Who’s fault is it that you don’t know me, hmm? I never asked to be your friend, Minho. But I’m not here to intrude and I’m not here to take over your territory and become the new head-alpha, okay? I’m here because Jisung invited me. I’m here because I need a place to live! Is it really so fucking bad to think that maybe you can be civil with me? Instead you’ve been defensive since the second I walked through that door!” Your anger is spiking and you need to get control of yourself before you explode on him. You turn around and slam your door shut before you can say anymore. 

Once on your bed you fight the urge to punch something. You certainly let yourself get riled up fast. It annoys you that someone you don’t even know has this sort of effect on you. But you close your eyes and will the anger away, telling yourself that maybe, just maybe, it’ll get better. 

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It doesn’t get better. It gets a whole lot worse, actually. Your first movie-night in with Jisung you actually get nauseous with how much he reeks of Minho. 

“Jesus, Sung,” you tell him. “It smells like you rolled around with him right before you came into my room.” 

“Sorry,” he says apologetically. It’s so hard to be mad at him. It really is. “He’s been extra clingy lately for some reason.” 

“For some reason,” you grumble. You know exactly why. “He’s trying to intimidate me to stay away from you, probably.” 

“What? Minho would never do that!” he says. You glare at him and he cowers down immediately. “I don’t know what’s going on with him,” he admits. 

“I’m tired of him making me feel like I’m the crazy one here! Everyone I talk to shoots praises out of their ass for him and meanwhile, I’m public enemy number one. I seriously don’t know what his issue is with me and I’m getting sick and tired of everyone telling me what a great person he is!” you rant rather loudly, ending with a great sigh. 

“Have you tried talking to him?” Jisung asks. You feel like you’re going to explode. 

“Yes, I have,” you tell him. “Multiple times. Each one ends in an argument or one of us storming off. I just can’t figure out what his deal is.” 

“Maybe–” 

“Sung, let’s just watch the movie, okay? I’m starting to get irritated and you’re not the one I’m upset with.” 

He concedes and snuggles in a bit closer to you, pressing play on the laptop. If you discreetly try to cover him in your own ginger scent? That’s between you and the moon goddess. 

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You find yourself in the midst of some sort of war and you’re on the losing side. Lee Minho has made it his life mission to inconvenience or irritate you in any way he can. 

Exhibit A: One morning you find yourself running late for class and you open your door just to trip over a conveniently placed pile of his shoes. Cursing his name in your head, you grab your backpack and run out the front door, just narrowly making it in time for the professor to start talking. Fast forward to the end of class when you pull out your folder just to realize that said folder is nowhere to be seen. Your homework which you spent over an hour on the previous night has vanished, gaining you a zero on the assignment. You’re sure you’re seeing red when you get home and your folder is on the kitchen counter.  

“I don’t know what game you think we’re playing, but sabotaging my grades is going too fucking far, Lee!” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says as he sips on a cup of coffee. You fight the urge to throw it in his face. 

“Don’t act like you didn’t try to make me late for class and hide my folder!” you say, waving the folder in his face. He looks irritated but it’s no match for how you feel. 

“Your belongings are not my responsibility,” he says with an eye roll. “Next time maybe don’t misplace your stuff.” You leave because you’re not confident in your ability not to punch him. 

Exhibit B: Poor Jisung has tried to set up an apartment movie night. It’s a good idea, in theory, to try to get some supervised bonding. Jisung even sits right in the middle, anxiously picking at his nails the entire movie. That’s only after Minho accuses you of burning the popcorn and fighting with you over which movie to watch. Jisung ends up picking it. It was going well until he stretched his legs out over Jisung’s lap and into your space. You shove his feet off of you faster than he put them up. The action makes him almost fall off the couch and spill his soda all over himself and Jisung. 

The omega stands up covered in soda and huffs. “I give up!” he cries out in exasperation. 

“It’s her fault for pushing me–” 

“Give it a fucking rest!” you cry out. 

Everybody ends up in their respective rooms that night. 

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 You didn’t want to go to this party. You really didn’t but you figured that you owe Jisung big time for turning his apartment into a warzone. The omega already has social anxiety and doesn’t love parties himself so you promised you would tag along. 

Minho is here too. You tell yourself you won’t interact with him but you keep catching his eyes from across the room. Deep down you hope that maybe the alcohol will mellow him down a bit and make him more tolerable. And maybe you use alcohol as a coping mechanism this one night. You’re stressed and a walking ball of tension every second of each day, not even able to relax in your own apartment. 

You always have an eye on Jisung when you party together. But you indulge in some tipsy flirting for once. This guy is super cute, after all… freckled face, long blond hair that frames his face, and a deep, sensual voice that makes you giggle and fawn over him. You amp up the usual techniques, touching his arm and laughing at all of his jokes. And when he leans in close enough that you feel his breath on your neck you don’t stop him. 

But somebody else does. 

One second you're bracing yourself for a drunken kiss and the next a hand is wrapped tightly around your arm, pulling you away. You smell burnt cinnamon before you even realize what happened and the anger that bubbles in your chest is unlike any you’ve ever felt before. You retaliate just as fast with an overwhelming mix of ginger that smells so strong it burns your nose. Before you can yell you’re being pushed out the door and into the cold of the night. 

“What the fuck was that,” you spit at Minho. You yank your arm out of his grip. 

“We’re leaving,” he tells you. 

“Like hell we are! You don’t get a say of who I spend my time with or when I decide to leave.” 

“I get a say when you’re making idiotic choices,” he answers, voice low. He spins you around until you’re pinned against the wall and his skin burns hot against yours. 

“No, you don’t. You’ve made yourself loud and clear that you don’t give a fuck about me. My bad choices are mine to make, Minho, not yours.” 

“You’re not thinking straight,” he tells you once he finally lets go. He looks like he’s trying to convince himself more than you. “Felix… he’s… I know him from my dance studio, okay? Just.. trust me and don’t go home with him. You can’t kiss him. Not Felix.”

“From your dance studio? Wow, ladies and gentlemen! Lee Minho has revealed exactly one thing about himself! He’s a dancer!” you say with mock surprise. You stumble a bit and Minho steadies you by your waist. It only serves to piss you off even more. 

“Let’s go home, yeah?” he asks. It’s probably the softest you’ve ever heard his voice yet. 

“No. I think I’m going to go kiss Felix and you can go fuck off,” you protest. You cross your arms and you look away from him because his cheeks are also flushed from drinking and he worries his lips between his teeth so you can’t stand to see it. 

He takes a deep breath. “Y/N, I swear to god you’re going to walk home with me or I’ll throw you over my shoulder and bring you home myself.”

Before you snap back at him about how ridiculous he’s being, the door opens and Jisung steps out. “Guys?” he questions, looking back and forth between the two of you. You’re breathing heavily and your fists are clenched but your anger dissipates the second you see the disappointed look on Jisung’s face. He wanted you here to keep him company. To soothe his social anxiety and to prove that you could be there for him, to show up for him like old time’s sake. And just like that, the adrenaline high slowly fades when you realize you’ve let him down. Anger turns to sorrow and guilt and god, no you won’t let Minho see you cry but you bury your face into Jisung’s neck. You whisper an apology and tell him you want to go home. 

You can’t help but feel like Minho has won this round, in some roundabout twisted way. 

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You avoid leaving your room for the next day. You don’t really feel like you’re deserving of wallowing in your own sorrow, especially since the one who is impacted here is Jisung, not you. You’ve let him down. You don’t get to mope. So… what you’re doing is avoiding. Avoiding Minho and therefore avoiding any more conflict. 

It’s the next day you leave your room. You notice the scent of vanilla a little more sweet than normal and when you knock on Jisung’s door you notice he’s nesting. A mixture of your clothes and Minho’s are piled in his bed and you feel a pang of guilt in your chest. 

“You okay?” you ask. If Jisung is in preheat and you’ve avoided him for the past 24 hours, he’s probably feeling pretty antsy. He does let out a breath of relief when he sees you though and brings you in for a hug. 

But of course your timing is unfortunate because Minho unlocks the front door at that very moment. When he sees you in Jisung’s arms he growls, causing you and the omega to stiffen. Minho crosses the room in seconds and the smell of cinnamon behind you gets stronger. 

“Off,” he says low into your ear. You have half the mind to snap at him but Jisung’s vanilla scent burns. You back off, giving Jisung a small nod before disappearing to your room. The last thing you want to do is distress Jisung further just before he starts his heat. This needs to stop. It needs to end. 

Jisung leaves the next day to spend his heat in a hotel. Despite the apartment being more comfortable for him, the unit isn’t equipped to deal with the overwhelming scent of heats and ruts. You couldn’t afford a scent complaint fee. Jisung doesn’t complain as you help him pack his bags and you even help him into the hotel room. You offer your best support in helping him rebuild his nest though you don’t have the same omegan instincts as he does. 

“I’m sorry again,” you tell him before you leave. “For everything. With Minho. It’s… we’ll work it out. Okay? Love you Sung.” 

He gives you a sad smile. His heat should start by the morning, you would guess. You just hope he can be comfortable and not worry too much about you and Minho. 

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Minho is standing anxiously by the door when you get home. You half expect him to crowd you against the wall but he doesn’t, eyes glued to the floor instead. 

“You smell like him,” he tells you. 

“Yes Minho,” you reply sarcastically. “It’s like I’ve been trying to tell you this whole time. Jisung is my friend too. You don’t have to act all possessive of him all the time.” 

He hums. You feel your blood boil again. How does he get you so worked up to the point of your heart pumping a mile a minute every time you see him? 

“Minho. Be honest,” you start. He finally looks up at you. You can’t read his face. Your alpha goes back and forth between wanting to pounce on him and run away in fear. You need to do what you think is right. “Do you want me to move out?” 

You aren’t expecting his reaction. You expect him to laugh in your face. You expect him to be overjoyed. But instead he seems shocked. 

“What?” 

“What do you mean what? Don’t act like this isn’t what you wanted from the very beginning. You win, okay? I concede. You want your space? You want to be the only alpha again? This is it. This is your opportunity. I’m offering you a way out now. No more fighting. No more upsetting Jisung. If you want me gone, just say the word. Please. I’ll leave.” 

“Don’t.” 

“What?” You almost think you’ve misheard him but he takes a step closer and he looks at you with pleading eyes. “What is your gameplan then? Why make me miserable since the second I move in? Argue with me, tell me who I can and can’t kiss, for god’s sake make me fail a fucking assignment? If you don’t want me fucking gone, Minho, what the fuck do you want–” 

You’re cut off by his lips clashing against yours so hard your head would have hit your head against the wall if not for Minho’s hands holding you as if you’re something precious. Your teeth clank together but you’re breathing him in and reciprocating his affection just as violently as he gives it. When his tongue enters your mouth and you taste cinnamon you realize you’ve never hated the smell, never hated him… He kisses into you like he needs you to breathe, like he’s been in the desert and you’re his oasis. 

You’re not sure that a kiss has ever felt like this before. You think for a moment that you might not be able to kiss anyone again after this, everyone and everything lacklustre compared to Minho. Minho. Minho. Nobody has ever and will ever make you feel this burning, boiling… hatred? lust? desire? Whatever it is you feel, you’re not sure it could be replicated. 

When you wrap your leg around his waist he grabs under your knee, hoisting you against the wall. His mouth is all over you and he explores every inch of your mouth, your neck, your collarbone. Your hands take purchase on his shoulders, in his hair, you’re not sure but you want to feel every inch of him there is to explore. Cinnamon has never smelled so sweet.

Minho brings you into his bedroom and it’s the first time you’ve stepped foot into his space but you don’t take the time to look around. In fact, the only thing you notice is that his comforter is soft, soft against your back as he throws you onto his bed. Your clothes are all but shredded from your body and if you had claws you would have used them to get every inch of useless fabric off of Lee Minho’s body. It makes you angry that he’s still clothed, so angry that you forgo pleasure in replacement of ripping the clothes off of him harshly. He grins. He has that smug fucking grin on his face you want to wipe off and you kiss his stupid lips again. This time when you kiss you’re both completely naked and every part of your body that touches his is scalding. 

When you sit on his lap your bare pussy slides along his cock and you both groan. His hands are on your hips and in desperation you both move back and forth. Every time his cock catches on your entrance you both let out a hitched breath but neither of you can stop. 

“Fuck. I’m gonna knot you, you know that? I’m gonna fuck you so full and then knot you so that everybody knows you’re mine,” he pants as he ruts his cock against you desperately. Is this just another way for him to stake his claim over you? To show that he’s the true alpha? Oh hell no.

“You’re such an asshole,” you tell him with a hiss when he finally slides into you. He’s big. You already knew this from the (not so) dry humping just moments ago but it still pisses you off when he stretches you nice and full. “Stupid asshole alpha with a stupid big cock.” 

When he looks up at you it’s with adoration and it throws you off. His eyes gleam and his teeth are caught against his bottom lip in a sultry grin. He plants his feet against his bed and thrusts up into you hard and fast–you almost fall because you have no time to plant your hands anywhere for balance. But the almighty perfect Minho catches you before you fall because of course he does. His hands on your waist only hold you in place to give him the opportunity to fuck up into you with more force and the wet sounds that come from between your bodies are filthy… but only serves to turn you on even more. 

“You were saying about me being an asshole?” he asks. His voice is breathy and low and you fucking hate how much you love it. 

“If all you wanted was to fuck me this bad you didn’t have to act like such a dick,” you say through tight lips. Okay. You’re trying not to moan, to give him that satisfaction. Who could blame you? “You only made me hate you more.” 

“Fuck,” he says, throwing his head back. “It wasn’t on purpose… didn’t like you at first but all of a sudden it turned to lust and… can’t you feel what you do to me?” He punctuates his point with a harsh thrust and fuck, you vaguely remember him mentioning he was a dancer. Perfect body, perfect hips and thighs made just to fuck you like this. 

“How you treated me wasn’t fair,” you tell him. You need him to know and you’re lowering your hips, trapping your legs under his so he can’t bounce you up and down on his cock anymore. Your hand snakes up to his throat and takes purchase there, watching the way he gulps and his eyes turn heavy at the action. You feel a burning satisfaction at the way his hips buck into you involuntarily when you squeeze slightly. “Say it,” you coo. “I want to hear you admit to me that you know you treated me poorly.” 

You expect a fight from him because, let’s be honest, Minho always puts up a fight with you. But any ounce of opposition leaves his body the second his eyes meet yours. He looks regretful. He looks small. “I treated you poorly,” he tells you. His eyes never leave yours. “I acted like a child because I had feelings for you that were misplaced. I liked you from the beginning and I… fuck, I didn’t know how to deal with that and I pushed you away. I wanted you to hate me.” 

The confession that spills past his lips is the last thing you’re expecting him to say. Your grip on his neck falters and he uses his stupidly impressive core strength to sit up, bringing your lips into a kiss. It isn’t explosive, it isn’t word-changing, but it is sweet and apologetic and very Minho. 

He places you on your back and resumes his pace, bringing your legs up to rest on his shoulders. At this angle he reaches deep inside you and the first time you gasp he resumes his brutal, relentless pace. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna knot you, please let me knot this pretty pussy,” he pleads. The first time he said it it was a demand; this time he asks from his soul, baring it to you and giving you ample time and opportunity to reject it. 

“Yes,” you moan. But if he’s going to claim you as his from the inside out, the least you could do is return the favor. And so you scratch Minho, raking your nails down his back until they’re sure to leave a mark. And when you’re both on the precipice you bite down onto his shoulder hard, just inches away from his scent gland. It’s not a mating bite but it is a mark, a claim. You suck hard into the bite just as he finishes, his knot expanding and catching on your entrance. You don’t release your mouth from his skin until he’s done pulsing inside you but to your surprise, he doesn’t stop moving his hips. Despite his knot locking you in place he grinds his hips into yours in small circles, putting pressure right onto your clit with his pubic bone. It’s too much, the stimulation of your clit, his knot, and the thick head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside you causing you to cum around him hard with a cry. 

You feel as if you’ve been electrocuted, little shocks going through your whole body with every wave of your orgasm. You almost wish he was bad in bed, if just to keep your dignity and tell him that he wasn’t all that. But with the gutteral noises he dispelled from your body, lying would just be a farce. 

When you’ve both finally calmed down and his knot finally deflates, you half expect him to kick you out of his room. You’ve built up your walls so high around him that it’s hard to imagine him treating you any other way. You’re anxious for sure, moreso at yourself for allowing yourself to be so hopeful. But Minho rolls over and grabs you, holding you close to his chest. Even when you squirm he doesn’t dare to let you go. 

“I really am sorry,” he tells you. A murmur into your hair. “I don’t want you to move out. I’m sorry for treating you the way I did. My alpha thought… that because we like you that maybe asserting our dominance would make you like us more. I know that’s illogical and just sounds  like an excuse but…” 

“I forgive you,” you tell him. “Well… maybe I don’t forgive you just yet. But I can if you prove to me that you’re done with the macho asshole alpha act. No more being possessive over Jisung. My friend by the way! Still haven’t gotten over that. And no more sabotaging my grades.” You shoot him a glare and he only looks at you sheepishly. Harsh looks turn into soft stares and all of a sudden he’s kissing you again. Your tension has already begun to melt away. You begin to see the charm of the Lee Minho everybody has told you about and you think, maybe… just maybe everything will be okay now. 

“I think we owe Jisung a gift,” Minho whispers into your hair. 

“I think we owe him a hundred gifts,” you wince. 

“He’s not going to believe his fucking mind when he gets back.” You laugh so hard your stomach begins to hurt. You think maybe you like the way Minho looks when he smiles. You think maybe you really like the way cinnamon and ginger smell together. You think maybe you could get used to kissing Minho and that burning, bubbly feeling in your stomach agrees. 

｡ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ₊ ˚ ︶︶✩︶︶‌ ｡˚

[traveler-at-heart]

Run, baby, run

Summary: Natasha is very competitive, and that includes your daughter.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Based on some real life events lol

Natasha was a lot of different things for many people. Depending on who you ask -friends, foes, family- she could be stubborn, deadly, relentless. To you she was kind, loving and supportive, in a way that no one else knew.

You would all agree on one thing, though.

Natasha was too competitive.

Being married for three years, you’d grown used to it. As a matter of fact, it could be entertaining especially if she was playing pool or darts against the boys.

But this morning, when she shows you the flyer, you actually have to look twice, sure that Natasha lost her mind.

“Baby crawl race?”

“Yeah, only for babies under one year. You know, they set a track and time them…”

“I mean, I figured. I just… why would we want Anya to do that?”

Your daughter perks up when she hears her name being called and you both smile.

Anya is ten months old, but she’s way advanced for her age. It must be Natasha’s genes, because you’re sure that before she turns one, she will be walking or even running after her other mother.

“It sounds fun”

“And winning has nothing to do with it?” you press, reading about the prizes. “Everything listed here are things we already have. A stroller, a crib�� ooh, a formula machine, fancy”

“We can still register if we leave now” Natasha picks up Anya from her playpen, and the sight of their matching red hair melts your heart as usual.

“Fine. We better get going”

—

To your surprise, there are over a dozen babies registered to compete. Natasha takes care of everything as you walk around the store where they’re hosting the event.

She comes back with a smile and a little paper with the number 17 on it.

“Your lucky number” she smiles at you, taking Anya in her arms.

You both watch as other kinds play and stumble around the mat. Most of them seem younger than your daughter, and only a few look close to being one year.

“That one’s gonna be easy to beat” Natasha muses, looking at a small kid that can barely sit.

“Natalia” you slap her arm. “He’s a baby”

“No. They are all competition. And we have no mercy, right, detka?” Natasha insists, bouncing your daughter in her arms.

“Alright, I’m changing her diaper before everything gets crazier” you decide, noticing how there’s a crowd forming around the place where the kids will crawl.

You make small talk with some of the clerks, who seem excited at the prospect of a silly race that will entertain them in the middle of their shift.

By the time you return, Natasha’s quiet, looking at the parents and their children.

“Everything ok?”

“Perfect” she nods, taking Anya in her arms. “Now, kiddo, listen to me, we are Romanoffs. We are fighters and more importantly, winners. So go and make us proud”

Anya responds by giggling and pulling a strand of her mother’s hair. Natasha smiles, saying something in Russian and kissing Anya’s cheek.

The mat is split in half so only two kids can compete at the same time, a screen with a timer behind them.

As expected, some of the kids get distracted by their race mate or crawl around instead of going in a straight line.

“What did I tell you? We’re gonna crush the opponents” Natasha whispers and you slap her arm.

She’s taking this way too seriously.

As you stand next to some parents, Natasha sniffs around, speaking into Anya’s back.

“Baby, did you go potty?”

“I don’t think so” you know Anya frowns and makes a little grunt when she does number two and she’s been pretty quiet this whole time.

“Oh, never mind” she turns to the parents standing next to you. “Not ours, detka”

The parents hurry to the bathroom. There’s a nagging feeling at the back of your mind when you notice how quiet Natasha is. It increases when the parents miss the race because they were stuck chaning a diaper.

Your wife tries to hide her smile, but there’s no way she planned this. Just a coincidence.

Right?

“Babies 10 and 11” the organizer calls. You noticed the girl is older than the other kids, standing out because she can close the distance faster.

“Best time has been 55 seconds. This should be interesting” Natasha comments.

Sure enough, the kid is about to finish when a bright blue ball crosses her path, getting her distracted and making her return to the start line.

The parents try to guide her back but it doesn’t work at all.

“Oh, well”

“Try not to look so happy about it” you whisper, but Natasha just chuckles and places a kiss in your temple.

After a few more minutes, it’s Anya’s turn. You carry her to the start line and Natasha kneels at the end of the mat, keeping her eyes focused on your daughter.

“Three, two, one. Go!”

All Natasha has to do is place her open palm on the mat. Anya’s seen her do it so many times and knows it means one thing: as soon as she touches her mama’s hand, she’ll throw her in the air the way she loves to.

It takes Anya 15 seconds to get to Natasha. Your wife rewards her with her favorite thing, and if it were anyone less graceful and quick, you’d be unnerved by the sight of your daughter kicking her feet while being lifted off the ground.

“Nicely done, pumpkin” you join them, smiling as Anya jumps to your arms.

��A worthy adversary, at last” a man comments as he takes his son to the race. “Let’s see if we can do it better than you”

“Doubt it” Natasha glares but you elbow her, smiling at the man.

“She meant to say, good luck. You’ll do great, sweetheart” you smile at his son, who waves back at you with wide eyes. He’s incredibly cute.

“Fraternizing with the enemy” Natasha tsks.

“He’s a baby, Nat”

“I didn’t like the way the father was looking at you either” Natasha grumbles, leaning forward to kiss you.

Definitely not complaining about her competitive streak now.

As your declared enemy gets ready to race, the father frantically looks around for something lost on their backpack.

“Did you bring it?” his wife insists.

“Yes! The purple elephant! We were playing with it a second ago!”

Apparently, that was their only resource, because the timer starts and their kid is focusing on everything but them.

They manage to finish after two minutes.

“Better luck next time” Natasha comments as they leave, her hand going around your waist.

She’s being so ridiculous but somehow you love it.

The winners are announced, and you cheer when the first place goes to none other than Anya Romanoff.

“Yes, baby. We are the champions” Natasha sings, bouncing her around. Anya has no idea what’s happening, but she’s enjoying the moment.

“Very nice” you comment when the organizers hand you the prize. “Good work, Anya. Keep it up and maybe we won’t have to pay for college”

“Of course she’ll get a scholarship. Or become a professional athlete. Or become president” Natasha says, walking back to the car.

“Oh, those are a lot of things. Maybe she’ll want to focus on just one”

“Nah, she’s got it. She’ll do it all” Natasha kisses Anya’s head and you can’t help but melt.

“Best thing you ever won?” you ask Natasha as you drive back home.

“No, that would be you” she says. “Of course, I mean the bet I made with Tony that I’d get you to date me over him”

“Ugh, you’re so ridiculous” you roll your eyes.

—

The excitement of the race exhausts your daughter, and she’s fast asleep by the time you get home.

You know this won’t last long, so you prepare her clothes to run a bath once she’s up.

As you’re going through her bag, you pull out a toy that’s definitely not Anya’s.

A purple elephant.

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!” you shout, looking for her.

“Oh-oh” Natasha mutters and clears her throat. “Yes, dear?”

“You took that baby’s toy!”

“I did not! Ok, I did. But look, I timed him when they were practising and Anya’s time was still better. I just really didn’t like the way he was staring at your boobs”

“Mhm, right. Winning was just a plus”

“See? You get me”

“That ball that distracted the other kid was not a mistake either, huh?”

“I don’t know what you mean, darling”

“And the parents that missed the race for changing the diaper?”

“Now, that was just a happy coincidence. The rest, yeah. Totally me”

“Evil! Stealing a toy from a toddler” you wave the purple elephant in her face. Natasha takes it and throws it over her shoulder, wrapping your legs around her waist in a swift motion. “What are you doing?”

“I got you that fancy formula machine, didn’t I? Where’s my prize?”

You laugh against her lips, but it soon turns into a moan, as you feel Natasha’s hands slide down your back to cup your ass.

“Anya's gonna wake up in thirty minutes or less. Can you handle that?”

“I do enjoy a good challenge” Natasha says against your lips, showing you how much she loves to win.

And honestly? After a mind blowing orgasm, you love it too.

[4linos]

haircut drama

lee minho x gn!reader

synopsis: minho gets overly dramatic about you not noticing his haircut, drawing out the teasing until you guess right.

wc: 823

(based on his silly bbl messages lol)

The afternoon was peaceful, yet something seemed odd. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone, totally immersed in whatever was on the screen. Minho sat next to you, but his typically calm manner had shifted. He kept looking across at you, shifting in his seat, and sighing lightly; his small dramatic movements were beginning to add up.

You looked up and saw him looking at you before he hurriedly turned his head. His lips were pursed, and he kept looking away, as if he were trying to hide something. But it wasn't like him to be so distant. You lifted an eyebrow, sensing something was off.

“Minho?” you asked, slightly distracted, still not sure why he was acting so… off. “You okay?”

He didn’t answer right away, only huffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. His foot tapped a little too fast on the floor, his gaze never meeting yours. “I’m fine,” he muttered, though there was a playfulness in his tone you couldn’t quite place.

You glanced at him, a little puzzled now. “Are you sure? You don’t look fine. You’re acting weird.”

Minho huffed again, louder this time, as if he was putting on a show. “I’m not acting weird,” he said, looking at the ceiling as though it held the answers to the universe. “It’s just… it’s whatever.”

You narrowed your eyes, trying to figure out what was really going on. Minho was being unusually cryptic, and it was driving you a little crazy. He’d been fidgeting this entire time, making it obvious that something was bugging him.

You set your phone down and turned your full attention to him. “Okay, now you really have to tell me what’s going on, because something’s not right.”

He turned his head toward you, a tiny grin forming at the corner of his mouth, but he refused to say anything. You studied him closely. His outfit was the same as always; there was nothing new there. He wasn't upset about anything in particular, but he was acting weirdly distant. It was as if he was expecting something from you.

Finally, he broke the silence. "It's just...I can't believe you didn't notice," he continued, his voice dripping with mock annoyance. "You've been sitting right here the whole time, and you didn't even see it."

“See what?” you asked, still unsure of what he was talking about, your mind racing through possibilities. “What am I missing?”

Minho sighed dramatically, shifting again, this time looking at his reflection in the window. “Nothing. Never mind,” he said, clearly trying to sound like he wasn’t affected, but you could tell he was enjoying this a little too much.

You were about to give up when it hit you like a bolt of lightning.

His hair!

Minho's hair is usually messy, but it was nicely done today, shorter and more professional than usual.

“Oh!” you said, finally getting it. “Did you get a haircut?!”

Minho froze, his lips curling into a mischievous grin, but his eyes remained playful and a little teasing. “Took you long enough,” he said, still pouting like he was holding onto his frustration for dramatic effect. “I was starting to think you were really going to ignore it.”

You blinked, realizing how obvious it had been all along. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice right away!” You immediately reached over to ruffle his hair, grinning. “But it looks good, babe! You look great.”

His face softened just a little, but his playful teasing didn’t fade. “It’s fine. I mean, I know I look good, but I wanted you to notice. I thought we were closer than that,” he said, feigning an exaggerated look of hurt.

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible! I was just distracted!”

Minho leaned back against the couch, a smug smile spreading across his face. “Mmhmm, distracted,” he repeated, clearly enjoying how much he was messing with you. “I’m still waiting for a good enough apology.”

You leaned in, narrowing your eyes with a grin. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry for not noticing sooner, but it looks really good. You’re more handsome than usual,” you teased, knowing exactly what he wanted to hear.

Minho pretended to think about it, then shrugged, his grin growing wider. “Okay, fine. I’ll let it slide this time. But next time? You better notice immediately.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, but you knew he was just teasing. You gave his hair another playful ruffle. “I swear, next time I won’t even blink without noticing. You’ve got me trained now.”

“Better,” he said, his tone light as he relaxed again. But then he added with a smirk, “But seriously, it looks good, right? I mean, you weren’t totally wrong for not noticing immediately…”

You shook your head, laughing at how he kept pushing it. “You’re ridiculous, Minho.” But deep down, you knew how much he secretly enjoyed the attention, even if he played it off.

//

masterlist.

[bookworrm1999]

How Far Away? Part 6

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication, miscarriage scare

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she's pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

AO3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |

Your anatomy scan was in two weeks and the little baby bean was doing well at 18 weeks.

This sugar drink from Hell was just nasty though, oh the things you do for love. You laid a hand over your bump, now a sizable little thing.

It was so cute, even though the bean inside it had caused you so much sickness.

You sipped more of the nasty glucose drink, grimacing the whole time. Finishing this horrible thing in 15 minutes seemed like such a chore.

Screw it, you threw it back like a shot and chugged it.

Ugh, you nearly puked from the taste and the texture but managed to hold it down as you wiped your mouth.

Tossing that bottle into the trash felt like victory.

You couldn’t even drink some water after all that.

What were you going to do for 30 minutes?

Well, you had lots of practice in just staring into space these days.

A memory swallowed you, bringing you back to happier days.

**

“Caleb?”

“Yes sweet girl?”

“Do you think we could play a game?”

“Sure what do you want to play?”

You scrunch your nose before clapping with glee.

“Oh! Can we play truth or dare?”

Caleb laughs before settling down on the couch next to you, pulling on the end of your nose.

“What, you didn’t play that enough in high school pipsqueak?”

“No! I mean I did but you never let us play it together when we were young. You always found some way to deflect.” You pouted a bit but fascination overcame you as you watched the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Well,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I couldn’t exactly play it and risk my feelings for you coming out. My friends weren’t exactly kind enough to not dare me to kiss you or some shit like that.”

“Ha! So the truth comes to light!”

He digs his fingers into your waist, making you squeak because it was ticklish.

“And what about it?”

“Can we play now though?”

“Sure squeaks.”

You tap your chin before holding your finger up as if an important thought came to mind.

“I dare you to kiss me!”

“Really? That’s what you use your dare on? I would’ve done that without a dare.” He scoffs and kisses you, holding your chin as he bites your bottom lip a bit before pulling away.

“I’m going to ease you into it!”

“Well I’m not! I dare you to go to the other room and take a naughty photo then send it to my phone, I need a new wallpaper.”

“What?!” You squeak.

He uses his evol to push you up off the couch

“Hop to it squeaks!”

“You’re going to regret that!” You say this as you stomp to the bedroom, you’re going to make his dick so hard that he’ll beg you for release.

**

30 minutes passed as you escaped to your memories. Tears leaking out a bit as the image of Caleb was seared into your mind.

“Hey.”

This jolts you out of your daydream, you sit up jerkily as your legs had fallen asleep. Rubbing your eyes and face to get rid of the evidence, you look towards the speaker.

It’s Zayne, he looks at you with concern.

“Is something wrong? Why are you waiting here?”

“Oh,” you laugh a bit, “I’m fine, just waiting on my glucose test.”

“Oh, have you gotten your blood drawn yet?”

“No, I need to go do that now. Thank you for checking on me.”

Getting up to leave, he stops you before glancing away, not wanting to meet your eyes as he asks

“Can I take you to dinner?”

This instantly brings back the memory of him asking you to marry him almost two weeks ago. You didn’t think it was a good idea, way too soon to think about marriage and not fair to Zayne at all.

“Zayne, maybe that’s not a-“

“I just want to take you to dinner. If it happens to show you that I could be a good choice, that’s great. But I really just want to make sure you’re okay. You’re my friend after all.”

Oh, well that deflates your argument. He’s right, he’s your friend first and you had shut everyone else out.

Maybe going out for once could be good. Get some actual food for the baby instead of a protein bar and a banana.

“Ok, I’ll go to dinner with you. I just have to go get my blood drawn and we can go.” You glance down at your outfit, right. “I’m not really dressed for anything fancy.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He waves his hand “Go finish the test.”

Right, you walk to the lab and finish the test without issue.

Walking back, he’s already clocked out and waiting for you.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we can get you a nutritious meal, I have my doubts on how well you are eating at home.”

“Hey! I have a basket right by my bed full of things that I made sure are acceptable foods for the baby.”

“By the bed…”

Oh, you had just given away a small piece of what life had been like for you lately. Too late to take it back now.

Getting into his car and sitting in silence was so awkward. But finding something to talk about to fill the silence was like trying to scale a mountain in the snow.

You didn’t have the energy to waste on small talk these days.

He pulled up in front of a small restaurant surrounded by ivy, kept warm by glass barriers from the winter weather.

He held your door open for you and offered a hand.

You took it, thankful, getting out by yourself even at this early stage of pregnancy was awkward. Getting out of your deep and comfy chair at home was like competing in a triathlon. Zayne didn’t need to know that though.

You and he were seated relatively quickly with menus at a small table in the corner. Which gave you an immediate distraction from his intense gaze.

“Have you seen a therapist?”

“Why are you asking me that all of a sudden?” You glance at his serious face over the menu.

“I should think that the reason would be obvious.” Now holding his hands out with all his fingertips spread out and touching, he leans against them, only his eyes visible.

“No I haven’t.”

“I think you should, it would be beneficial for you and for your baby.”

“I know, my OB gave me some information on therapists and social workers that I could reach out to if I choose to.”

“But you haven’t.” He states this as if it affects him and not you.

“No, now stopping bugging me about it.”

He sighs before laying a hand on yours, the warmth of another’s touch leaving you a bit breathless after not touching anyone in almost a month.

“I’m worried for you, I care about you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Zayne, I… I really can’t think about you in that way right now.”

“That’s not my intention right now. My objective is purely to make sure you are alright, as a friend. If I could help you by marrying you, if that’s what you needed, I would. But it’s not my focus.”

Now you felt really bad, you kept boiling him down to thinking he only wants you as his wife.

He was your friend first and foremost.

“I’m sorry Zayne. I-I will try to reach out to somebody soon ok?”

“Thank you.” He releases your hand and looks at his own menu.

You order a light meal, just some protein and a side. But it was your first real meal in weeks.

Having it next to such a good friend who cared made your heart feel a little warm.

Your baby now able to kick you a bit, leaves you feeling not quite so alone.

You end your dinner with Zayne on a higher note than you would’ve expected it to be. Holding a small box of what you couldn’t finish, you smile at him. It was small but a real genuine smile was on your face.

It lightening your countenance and a bit of that pregnancy glow finally came through.

Snowflakes started falling lightly from the sky.

Landing in your hair and eyelashes, making you look like you truly belonged in the snow.

Zayne looked at you eyes a bit wide before he raised your hand, held it to his lips, brushing against your skin as he whispered

“Goodnight.”

You pulled your hand away, it wasn’t time for that.

“Goodnight Zayne.” You drew your line in the sand.

Turning around, you headed towards that transit center, hoping you could get home before the snow got bad.

Coming home to Caleb’s empty house made you feel guilty. You hadn’t even done anything, you’d set the boundary but you still felt a bit dirty.

Zayne was wonderful but he wasn’t for you. He deserved a girl who loved him with all her heart. Who wouldn’t forever look to the stars for a love that wasn’t ever coming home.

Whose belly wasn’t swollen with the evidence of another man’s love.

But the guilt rose in your throat, choking you. You felt gasping for breath, you sat heavily on the floor next to the bed. You gulped your water bottle but the room still spun.

Caleb, Caleb grounded you.

You fumbled as you pulled your phone out, turning on the camera. Talking to him like this, it made you feel like he was still listening and here with you somehow.

So you gasped and sobbed into the camera.

“Caleb! I can’t breathe! You aren’t here with me and I feel like I’m drowning!”

Getting this out, you managed to suck a few Dee breaths in. Calming down as you imagined him on the other side.

“I went to dinner with Zayne tonight. You know he asked me to marry him? He said he wanted to help somehow….”

You laugh as the absurdity of it hits you.

“Who’d want to marry me? You didn’t, I wasn’t even your girlfriend.”

You glare at your clenched hand.

“Why do I feel so guilty? I love you so much but you’re gone so why is it eating me up?”

You look at your lap but something strange captures your eye. Your dress had ridden up and you thought you saw a flash of red.

“What in the world?”

You set the phone down, forgetting to stop recording.

“Is that blood?”

Lifting your dress, you found your suspicions to be correct, blood in between your thighs. Panic sets in as the world collapses around you.

Tags:@gojosballsack69 @apple-lov3r @dinochocochip @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @marina27826 @crowleysthings @tabi-callico @midiplier

@his-ocean-emissary @rosalyne08 @xaviers-pookie-bear @tsunamethyst @thejujvtsupost @cherrybeomgyu

[anakinstwinklebunny]

Fake dating with hockey player Anakin 😵‍💫😵‍💫

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

Author's note: have no idea if you meant headcanons or fic so im sorry :// also this is also an opportunity for me to ask anyone who want to send a request to be more specific! It helps a lot

You should have said no.

You knew it'd be a disaster when ANAKIN SKYWALKER said, "I need a fake girlfriend."

And you need a freaking bag full of money

The words had barely left his stupid, pretty mouth before you rolled your eyes and continued walking. But, of course, he'd not let you go that easily. He chased after you, hockey bag slung over his shoulder, smelling like cologne and screaming trouble.

"C’mon, bookworm. It’s just for a little while. My ex won’t leave me alone, and Coach says I need to ‘grow up’ and ‘be responsible.’ You’re, like, the most responsible girl I know.”

Your mistake? Stopping to listen.

Your second mistake? Agreeing.

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN who sat with you to set the rules;

"Alright, we need some ground rules,” you began, tone serious as you laid your notebook flat on the table.

Anakin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and that signature cocky smirk on his face. "Go ahead, princess. What rules you got in mind?"

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, ignoring the way his gaze lingered on your lips for a second too long. "First off, no unnecessary touching."

He raised an eyebrow, smile widening. "Unnecessary? So what's necessary touching? Hand-holding? Arm around your waist? Kissing?"

Your face heated up instantly, and you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "Only in public, and only when we have to sell it," you replied, writing it down in your notebook, though your hand shook slightly..if your mother would see this, she would instantly deprive you

Anakin chuckled softly, leaning in closer over the table. "Does that mean I get to kiss you whenever people are watching? Maybe slip a hand down to—"

"Rule two!" you cut him off, cheeks flaming as you forced yourself to focus. At least one of you had to be focused "No… suggestive comments."

"Can’t promise that, sweetheart."

You glared at him, though the effect was ruined by how hot your skin felt. "You have to try."

"Fine, fine," Anakin waved it off playfully. Then he leaned forward, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he took your notebook from your hands, flipping it closed. "My turn for some rules."

You blinked, confused. "Your rules? I thought this was—"

"Rule one," he interrupted "When we’re together, you don’t look at anyone else but me."

You scoffed, trying to sound unaffected, but the possessiveness in his tone made something inside you stir. "And why would I need to look at you all the time?"

His lips curled into a slow smirk as his eyes locked with yours. "Because if we’re selling this, I want people to know you’re mine. Fake or not, you’ll have to act the part."

"Fine. But that goes both ways."

"Of course, princess," he said, winking. "I wouldn’t dream of looking anywhere else."

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your composure as he continued. "Rule two: when we’re alone, we still act like we're dating."

Your eyebrows shot up. "Wait, why? No one’s around to see it."

"Because I want you to get used to it," he said, voice low and teasing. "It’ll make things easier in public, right?"

You swallowed hard, trying to form a retort, but the way he was looking at you had your words caught in your throat. The way he said it—like he was daring you to admit just how much he was getting under your skin—made your heart race.

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling your cheeks flush again as you looked away. "Fine. But if you cross any lines, this deal is off."

"I wouldn't dream of it"

He nodded at whatever you've been lecturing him about before he leaned back in his chair with that cocky grin of his. "Agreed. But there’s one thing I won’t agree to—you can’t limit how many times I call you my pretty little girlfriend."

He tapped his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Hmm... how about rule three? You have to wear something of mine to class.”

"Wait, what?" You blinked, caught off guard.

He smirked, clearly enjoying your reaction. "You heard me. Just something simple. A sweatshirt, a jacket—anything. It’ll make the whole thing look more real."

You let out a breath, shaking your head but still writing it down. "Alright, anything else, mister 'I’m perfect’?"

He chuckled, leaning forward now, arms on the table “Oh, I’ve got one more. You have to come to my games. Obvious, right?”

You raised an eyebrow but wrote it down anyway, handing the paper to him with a sigh. “Sign it.”

He scanned over the rules with exaggerated care for someone like him, then grabbed the pen and signed it with a flourish. "With pleasure, pretty girl."

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN who walked you to another class;

Ball rang and you stepped out of your classroom, only to lock eyes with the devil himself. Anakin stood a few feet away, surrounded by his friends from the hockey team. When your eyes locked, a smirk tugged at his lips before he excused himself from the group and made his way towards you.

"What are you doing here?" You whispered, heart pounding at the sight of him.

He gave you a charming smile, hand quickly finding its way to the small of your back as he leaned in close "I’m here to walk you to your next class, of course."

You stiffened at the unexpected contact, but he didn’t seem to notice, of care, as he led you through the bustling hallway. His hand slid even lower, brushing your pocket, before coming dangerously close to your ass. "What are you doing?" You hissed, voice barely carrying an edge of irritation.

His hand didn’t move though, instead it pressed against you as if to make a point, before sliding in fully to your pocket..on your ass.. His voice got lower, just for you to hear. "I’m just doing my part to sell it, pretty girl. Can’t have everyone think I’m not totally smitten with my girlfriend, can we?"

He glanced around, clearly taking pleasure in the stares from other students. "See? They’re all watching us."

"I don't like that," voice tense but a little breathless from the mix of discomfort and... something else you refused to acknowledge

He grinned again, sensing your unease, and leaned in closer, his hand giving your ass a tiny, teasing squeeze. "Come on, loosen up. You’ve got to act like you enjoy it when I touch you if we’re gonna make this look real." His tone softened for a moment as his gaze met yours. "Where’s your class? Can’t walk around aimlessly with you."

"Chemistry... second floor." You said, words escaping your lips almost automatically as youso desperately tried to focus on something else to keep your composure.

Anakin nodded, still trailing behind you, large hand slipping down a little further, lingering just below your waist as he gave your bum a subtle pat. His words came out smoothly, as if this was just another normal conversation between a boyfriend and his girlfriend. "Looks like we’re headed to the second floor then, sweetheart." then he continued "So, how were classes today? Anything exciting? Any tests?"

"It was okay..." You muttered, wanting the conversation to be over.

He chuckled, clearly not buying it. The grip on your hip only tightened as he pulled you closer, breath warm against your ear. "Just ‘okay’? C’mon, at least one thing had to be interesting." His hand gave your ass a firmer squeeze, body pressing up against yours as you both moved up the stairs.

"Anakin, the PDA, remember?" You whispered, trying to pull away just a little.

He smirked, eyes scanning the hall to make sure no one was paying too much attention. When he didn’t spot anyone, he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "I’m just keeping up our cover, baby. Can’t have anyone thinking you don’t like my touch, now, can we?" voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"I want to stab you." You muttered

He laughed "Now now, let’s not get too violent. It’s not very ‘girlfriend-like’ to be plotting to stab your boyfriend, is it?" He teased, amusement screaming from his eyes

You furrowed your brows, about to fire back a retort when Anakin closed the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours in a swift kiss before pulling away. His hand gave your ass one final squeeze, smirk never leaving his face as he whispered. "See you after class, pretty girl." And even when he left, you swore you could still feel his touch on your body..and it definitely did not help you treat this as a normal «fake dating» thing

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN whose eyes made you feral - the way he looked down at you, a little too possessive, a little too protective, a little just too much for your liking. Gaze didn't leave you for a second while you would speak, eyes would soften, be so hypnotized/captivated by you, you caught yourself thinking if he was really pretending

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN who shamelessly grabbed your hand in front of his teammates..which obviously was flustering for you but weird for his friends, cause since when THE Anakin Skywalker dated some random?

HOCKEY PLAYER!ANAKIN who brought you to parties;

You should have stayed at home.

The party was loud, sweaty, too overwhelming— simply and shortly, not your scene at all. But Anakin had looked at you with those stupid, stupid big blue eyes and said, «I need you there, bookworm. Just one night. It's in the deal, remember?»

So you were standing in the middle of someone's packed house, hugging a solo cup to your chest, while Anakin—the guy you’re fake dating for reasons you’re still not sure of—was locked in an intense stare-down with his ex.

Padmé Amidala. The school’s golden girl. The one everyone thought Anakin would marry someday.

And maybe that's why your stomach curled in a way you couldn't process right now. The idea of competition, the thought of the real reason you were kind of stuck to fake-dating Anakin hit you like a wall.. He was doing it for her. To win her back, in this weird, so-anakin-like way..

Suddenly, before you can contemplate further, Anakin’s turning to you, hands finding your waist. Breath is warm against your ear when he leaned down.

"Kiss me."

Your brain short-circuits. What?

"What?" you echoed dumbly. The music was too loud, the bass feeling like it shook the floor. It all mixed with your beating rapidly heart in the perfect rhythm

"Kiss me," Anakin repeated, voice lower, rougher. His eyes are still trained on Padmé across the room, but his fingers squeezed your waist just enough to make your stomach do a flip.

Twice.

You didn't even have enough time to think properly

Because Anakin cupped your face and crashed his lips with yours. The kiss was deep, hungry, a little desperate. His tongue slide against yours, and your knees literally went weak. None ever kissed you this way..none kissed you in general with such..passion.. precision, as if he was too skilled in this matter

His hands tightened on your waist after he deepened the kiss, pressing you back against the nearest wall as if the idea of any space between you frustrated him.

You're gone. Done. Wrecked. Destroyed. Out of any power.

When he finally pulled away, with those pink lips glistening, being swollen, sinful, tempting, even. He swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, wiping away the evidence of what he just did.

You stared at him dazedly

"Too stunned to speak, kitty cat?" Anakin smirked breathlessly

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy-deactivated20250 @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17-deactivated2025 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden

[stellewriites]

Part 5 - John Price x reader

Masterlist

Summary: When John gets an unexpected invite to his ex-wife's wedding, he scrambles to find a suitable date to take with him to ward off old ghosts from his past.

Notes: trans John, fat reader, smut - fingering, oral (f!receiving), riding/frotting, John's genitals are referred to as cock.

You’d been screening John’s calls and leaving his texts unread for the last fortnight, feeling worse and worse for it and not knowing exactly why you were doing it.

Each notification had your heart pumping in excitement for the possibility of him still reaching out despite your silence, and then thumping too hard in immediate anxiety and guilt.

“Stop moping and text him,” Kate said to you finally. She’d been watching you check your phone routinely throughout brunch and had noticed how you were only half focused in their conversations and slow to engage. You’d laugh a second later than the others and had forgotten what you’d ordered when it had arrived at the table.

“I’m not ready for dating.” You shrugged her off, looking back down at your phone.

She huffed and sent you a disbelieving look. Your other two friends currently present, Cass and Paige, paused their conversation to look at you doubtfully too.

“I’ve not seen you as happy as you had been recently when you were hanging out with him,” Kate said and the other two agreed. “I know this isn’t a confidence thing either. He said he liked you, and you clearly liked him.”

“Katie,” you said warningly.

“She’s not wrong,” Paige said and took a sip of her drink.

“I mean, hell, if you’re really set on not dating, then don’t! That’s fine, but text the guy back for god’s sake and hang out again. Or put him out of his misery.” She bit a large chunk out of her avocado toast as you slumped in your chair.

“He’s still trying, right? That’s what you were worried about?” Cass said, hitting the nail on the head.

Guiltily you looked down at the unanswered messages under John’s contact. It stung to realise that maybe John had been genuine that night and you’d turned him down so bluntly.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek and typed up your reply, sending it before you could talk yourself out of it.

>> hi john sorry for the distance, i’ve been figuring some stuff out. make it up to you over coffee if you’re free later?

He didn’t leave you waiting anxiously for long, replying immediately with an affirmative.

“What did he say?” Paige asked.

“We’re meeting up later,” you said a little bashfully. “He said he’s looking forward to seeing me.”

Kate smiled knowingly. “Yeah, I bet.”

You elbowed her lightly and put your phone away. It was easier to settle back into the conversation with the group, easier to concentrate, with your chest not feeling so tight.

——

“Hey,” you greeted him softly inside the coffee shop later that day. He’d arrived early again.

You felt almost more awkward now than you had when meeting him for the first time.

“How have you been, Sunshine?” He asked as you took your seat.

“Good. Fine. Yeah.” You nodded before you shook it. “I wanted to apologise, John. For a lot of things but—“

“No need, Sunshine, honestly,” he waved you off gruffly, leaning forward in his seat as you shrank back in yours. “I’m just glad you’re happy to see me now.”

“I am,” you confirmed with a shy smile, sat opposite him and growing more relaxed at the pleased twitch of his moustache.

“So what’s been new?” He asked again.

You snorted. “It’s only been a couple of weeks since we last saw each other,” you said.

He blushed, the pink flush half hidden behind the beard he was growing back out.

“Guess I got used to all the updates throughout the day quicker than I’d realised.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly before looking to the counter and sitting up straighter. “Do you want anything? My treat.”

Your smile had dropped at the reminder of how you’d skipped out of his life so suddenly; even though you didn’t owe him anything, you had grown to be friends before the wedding and you know you’d have been hurt if it was the other way around.

“Yeah, just an iced latte please,” you said before stopping him from standing. “Hey, I said I was making it up to you. I should be paying.”

He huffed a laugh. “Not likely. You’re making it up to me by sticking around, Sunshine. You didn’t have to come at all.”

“John…”

“One iced latte coming up,” he said and stood. “God knows why, they taste more of sugar than coffee.”

“That’s exactly why,” you huffed a hesitant laugh as he headed to the counter. When he came back a minute later and sat down with the drinks you took a sip before speaking. “To answer your question, work has been the same old, but I’m thinking of maybe getting a pet? Tied between a cat and a rabbit at the moment. If it’s a rabbit, I’ll need to sort the garden though, it’s little bit overgrown right now.”

His eyebrows raised in surprise and he put his tea down. “You got the tools for it?”

“I think my neighbour has a lawnmower and my mum probably has a pair of shears I could borrow for the hedges,” you hummed. It had only been a half thought semi-recently, so you’d not put much planning into the idea yet, just the start of a pinterest board of cute ideas.

“I could help,” he offered, a touch too casual. “If you wanted. I’ve got a lawnmower I don’t get to use too often and some time off before I have to head back to work.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said with a gentle smile.

He nodded.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Same old,” he said vaguely, repeating your own words back at you. He shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “I am having to go back to work properly soon though.”

You tilted your head, confused at his drab tone, certain as you were that you’d messaged once or twice when he was at work, stuck doing paperwork or in a meeting before the wedding.

“I’ll be heading overseas,” he clarified. “Might not be contactable for a few weeks at a time. Just didn’t want you to think…”

“That you were ignoring me to get back at me for the fact that I ghosted you?” You guessed when he trailed off. John nodded sheepishly.

“Fuck, I’m glad I’ve gotten to see you before I go,” he said quietly, just looking at you.

“Me too,” you agreed. Impulsively, you finished off your drink and made a quick decision. “Do you want to come back to mine for dinner? I’ll cook.”

John grinned brightly. “I’d love that.”

——

You busied yourself in the kitchen when you got back home with him, missing his chuffed smirk when he saw your door was still in working order with no sign of it dragging on the doorstep.

You didn’t miss his hum when he joined you in the kitchen a moment later.

“That shelf meant to be on a slant?” He asked, eyes shrewd as he looked at your collection of herbs and spices.

“Oh, no but I’ve just never found time to fix it. And it’s not fallen down yet, so it’s not even made an appearance on my Urgent List.” You shrugged.

He hummed again and headed back to the front door. “I’ve got my tool box with me, I’ll sort it now for you.”

“No, John, you don’t have to,” you called after him, but he was already out of the door. You didn’t know that he’d kept his toolbox in his truck ever since he was first here just in case you messaged again needing anything sorted, and now he was glad his foresight was paying off.

The shelf was sorted quicker than the kettle boiled and you swatted at him to go relax once he’d cleaned up after himself. He placatingly held his hands up in mock surrender and went to wash up in the bathroom while you rinsed some veg under the kitchen tap.

You were given ten minutes of peace before you started to wonder where he’d gone and left the pasta in the pan boiling and the sauce on a low heat to find him. You weren’t afraid to chew him out if he was snooping, but instead you found him hunched over the sink in the bathroom.

“Taps were finicky,” he said before you’d had chance to ask him what he was doing. When he’d had chance to grab his tools from the kitchen without you noticing you didn’t know, but you couldn’t help but snicker as he frowned down at the old taps.

“Don’t do well sitting still, do you, John?”

He shrugged. “Figured I might as well since I’m here,” he said instead.

You snorted. “Come help me with the sauce once you’re done here then.”

You stifled a laugh when you heard him swear through the open door before the sound of a running tap turned on and off a few times. He came back through to the kitchen a little later with a satisfied smile and you did your best to concentrate on cooking instead.

You smiled at him when he settled in next to you to take over stirring the sauce, leaving you free to set the table. You felt a pang of domesticity, it was all so easy with John.

You plated it up and sat down together. Eating dinner with him was just as easy, the awkwardness you’d felt walking into the cafe forgotten about completely as conversation flowed naturally between the two of you. Though you did have to fend the man off from planning to go out in the morning to get the wood to build you either a hutch for a potential rabbit or put up climbing shelves if you decided on a cat instead; he’d figured you’d be able to decide by time you’d finished the pasta.

“Best meal I’ve had in a while,” he sighed happily when he finished off the pasta. “Stunning.”

“Thanks, John,” you said bashfully. When you stood to take the dishes he moved quicker and grabbed the plate from your hands. You didn’t bother complaining, knowing how stubborn the man was already; instead you joined him and put the dishes away once he’d cleaned them, smiling to yourself as the pair of you worked in comfortable silence.

When all was put away and your kitchen was back to normal - now with a sturdier shelf - he smiled and headed for the door reluctantly with his toolbox in hand.

“Thanks for today, Sunshine,” he said softly and, after a brief moment of deliberation, he leant in to kiss your cheek. “Talk to you later?”

You nodded happily and closed the door behind him.

When you laid in bed later that night you couldn’t stop thinking about the gentle, chaste kiss. The only real one you’d shared so far.

——

You only got a week with John before he disappeared. He’d made you promise to keep him updated like you would normally so he could catch up when he got back again, but you tried not to overwhelm his notifications; sticking to a couple of texts every few days instead of the daily messages you’d quickly fallen back into.

If he wanted more you were sure he’d let you know and if he only skim read the mountain of messages and photos you’d still managed to send then you’d ease up next time.

He said he would be gone a month, tops, but you didn’t hear from him for two. You tried not to worry, his job wasn’t an exact science, but that fact could make you more anxious depending on the day.

It was a random Wednesday evening when you got a knock on your front door and your heart suddenly plummeted.

You walked to the door with shaking hands. The repercussions of John’s work had never fully occurred to you until this moment, or at least you’d done your best not to linger on it for too long. But now visions of the person on the other side of your door being someone in an official uniform, waiting to let you know weeks too late that John had—

John had shown up to your house unexpectedly.

“Sunshine.” He smiled.

Clearly tired, he stood on your doorstep with his hair damp and curling at the ends, his beard overgrown and his work gear still on, though a big bag was hooked over his shoulder. His smile never wavered, relieved when you answered the door.

“John?” You stepped to the side to let him in without a second thought and he trailed a heavy hand appreciatively down your arm.

“Cleaned up a little at base, but I haven’t stopped driving home since. I’ve had you on my mind as soon as we were wheels down,” he admitted with soft eyes.

You didn’t question his use of the term ‘home’ when referring to driving to yours after spending months in another country and you certainly weren’t going to think about how it made you feel.

“You should’ve gone back to yours to sleep, or at least dropped off your things,” you berated him half-heartedly. “We could’ve caught up when you weren’t running on— what? Four hours of sleep?”

“Knew you’d be my first stop.” He’d dropped his bag by the front door, his daft hat dropped on top, and was slumping onto your couch with a heavy sigh. “Should’ve left my shit at base maybe. Just didn’t want to have to drive back tomorrow.”

“Have you eaten?” At his slight shake of the head, you moved to the kitchen and started pulling something together, leaving him to relax. You knew he must be tired by how he wasn’t following after you, and your suspicions were confirmed when you came back with a thick sandwich, the last slice of a quiche you’d made earlier in the week and some picky bits from your fridge to find him asleep. You cringed at the lacklustre dinner, but you hadn’t been expecting guests and you were going grocery shopping tomorrow, so you placed it on the coffee table and sat down carefully next to him so he didn’t wake.

Turning down the volume on the TV, you let him nap as you watched a few episodes of your latest favourite. You couldn’t help but let your eyes dart over to him every so often to check on him, giggling when you noticed his mouth had dropped open during his well deserved catnap.

You paused your show when he grumbled and wiped a slow hand over his face a few hours later.

“Hello, sleepyhead. Hungry?”

“Starving,” he groaned croakily.

“Best I could do on short notice,” you said and handed him the plate. You watched like a big cat documentarian as he tore through the food with an unholy passion, finished in minutes. You silently handed him your water and he chugged it back with a loud ‘ahh’ after.

“Lovely as ever,” he said sleepily before nodding back off. You stifled a laugh and stood to grab him an extra pillow and blanket. It was clear he wouldn’t be driving home tonight, so you thought you might as well let him get comfy and crash on the couch for the night.

A brief thought crossed your mind of waking John and letting him share your bed; you’d done it for the wedding after all, and it wouldn’t have to mean anything.

You shook your head and draped the blanket over him. You knew it would mean something and you weren’t ready to make that step yet as much as you wanted it.

——

You woke in the morning to John using your shower and you smiled at him with raised ‘brows when he came back out dressed in more familiar civ clothes. You looked for the bag at the front door but couldn’t see it.

“Staying for breakfast or heading home?”

“Heading home, sadly. But I’ll call you later, yeah? I want to catch up properly,” he said. “Thanks for letting me stay, Sunshine.”

“Of course,” you said genuinely and in between bites of your cereal. “It was a nice surprise.”

He hummed and leant in to kiss your temple with a warm hand cradling the back of your neck. You tried desperately not to push into him and to ignore the thoughts of how he smelt like you out of your head; how if anyone tried to flirt with him on his way home they’d smell your strawberry shampoo and very berry body wash. How your spring air scented febreeze spray had sunk into his jacket from the couch through the night.

Your subtle mark was all over him and neither of you seemed to mind.

“Call me when you get home, John.”

He hummed, lingered for a moment more, then headed out with his bag in tow.

——

The bar was loud and your friends were still wide awake and partying strong, celebrating the news of Paige’s well earned promotion. You, however, were flagging.

It was late, and the prospect of staying out any later was making holding back a yawn nigh impossible. You’d never been a big drinker so you’d not been keeping pace with the others, a possible mistake since you seemed to lack the same energy as them, found firmly in their second wind. The last thing you wanted to do was bail but you didn’t want to bring the mood just down hanging around either.

Your phone buzzed and you smiled when you saw it was john.

>> Still awake?

<< for once yeah :p

>> What show has you gripped to binge watch late into the night this time?

You snorted.

<< out celebrating with friends, paige got promoted!!!

>> Tell her congratulations from me

>> What time does the party end?

<< idk but i’m ready for bed already 😪

<< taxi isn’t booked for another couple of hours tho :(

John’s speech bubble appeared and disappeared a few times and you watched the screen avidly.

>> Do you want me to come meet you to walk you home?

<< really??

<< would you mind? it’s late and a little cold so you don’t have to!

>> Send me the address and I’ll set off now

<< thanks john ❤️

Either John lived close or he’d ran there, as you’d only just finished telling your friends that you were leaving early when John turned up.

“You shouldn’t leave on your own, walking home at this time of night is dangerous,” Cass said worriedly, her words slurring slightly.

“I’m not, John’s meeting me to walk me home,” you said and flushed when they all cheered and whistled at the mention of his name; their catcalls gained volume and enthusiasm when John walked through the bar door a second later, head on a swivel as he looked for you in the crowd.

“Fuck off,” you hissed at your friends playfully and hugged them all goodbye before you headed over to John. He was grinning and waved happily over to your friends, nudging you when he saw the embarrassed scrunch of your shoulders.

“Good night?” He asked once you were on the path outside.

“Yeah.” You smiled. “She deserved the raise like three years ago, but at least they’re finally recognising all the work she does.”

John nodded along. He cursed a moment later when he felt a few raindrops. You both looked up at the gentle patter and gasped when it quickly turned torrential.

Your walk turned into a run as John grabbed your hand tightly and led you a little shop alcove near by, shoving you under and crowding in after you.

“Shit, I should’ve driven,” he blamed himself, looking at your soggy jacket and the rain that had splattered your round cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it, John,” you waved it off. “Bit of rain never hurt anyone.”

The pair of you were pressed close, his broad shoulders and your wide hips taking up the space in the doorway enough that you were both holding your breath in each other’s space.

“Just my luck really,” you said.

“It’s just British weather,” John corrected. “Don’t know why I wasn’t expecting it to rain in the middle of summer,” he joked.

You laughed and felt butterflies flutter at his mirrored rumble, focused on where your stomach pressed against his. You no longer felt tired stood with him.

It went quiet, with just the soft rain and the sound of the odd car passing by the only things heard for a moment as you both held your breath, eyes locked.

You leant forward those last few inches and pressed your lips against his. Your noses bumped and you automatically lifted a hand to tilt his chin slightly to adjust, pressing your lips a little firmer when he followed your guiding hold. His hands on your hips were reverent as he let you lead.

You delighted in the scratch of his beard for a split second before suddenly flinching back, your hand becoming firm against his shoulder to keep him from following.

“Fuck,” you swore shakily. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” he huffed with a confused smile.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” you insisted. You felt him lean towards you and firmed the stretch of your arm to keep him in place as best you could in the small space. “It’s mixed messages. It’s not fair to you.”

“I’m still waiting,” he admitted. “I’ll wait however long y’need, Sunshine.”

You ducked your head.

“I feel guilty,” you whispered. You swallowed thickly as the reasons were finally voiced even as you avoided his eyes. “I feel like it’s Charlotte all over again for you; I’m stringing you along when you could be finding someone else. I’m— it’s not fair,” you repeated.

He leant back in shock, a frown pulling at his brows and his mouth moving silently for a moment. John looked down at you from his tucked in chin and considered your comparison, knowing the quick denial on the tip of his tongue wouldn’t soothe you.

“Have you decided that then? You don’t want to be with me?” He asked finally.

You hesitated, unable to lie and say no, and he latched onto that with a fierce hold.

You thought back to what your friends had said, the fun you’d been having with him again, how natural it all was.

“Sunshine…”

“We could take it slow?” You asked.

“Of course,” he agreed readily, pushing those few inches closer to you in eagerness. “Slow and steady, whatever you need.”

“Ok.” You nodded.

“Ok?”

“I like you, John,” you admitted almost shyly, smiling up at him. “I want to try.”

In the next breath he ducked close to kiss you again.

You were pressed against the damp, grainy wall of the little alcove as he greedily slipped a hand beneath your shirt and hungrily kissed you, not stopping for a breath or a gasp now that you’d given the go ahead.

“W-what— happened t-to,” you gasped as he filled your space and every thought. The patter of the rain going unheard as his shaky breaths filled your ears and echoed torturously. “Take— taking it s-slow?”

He sucked on your lip before pulling back and panting, swapping breaths with you. “I’m not down on one knee, am I?” He asked as though you were being obtuse.

You snorted, eyes wide in disbelief. But you didn’t push him away, instead your grip kept him close.

He dipped in for another peck and you cupped his bearded cheeks.

“My house isn’t far from here,” you suggested softly. Testing the waters.

In a flash John was dragging you out of the alcove and down the street with you laughing as you splashed through the puddles to keep up with his determined pace.

“Wrong way, John,” you laughed and tugged at his arm, directing him the to follow you and head the other way towards your house. He crowded against your back, slightly off to the side, and you felt butterflies erupt at the sound of his low chuckle as your steps overlapped and you tripped each other in eagerness.

——

Once you were safely inside your home, it didn’t take long for you to get naked and climb on the bed. You dragged John along with you, clad still in his boxers.

He hovered over you as you laid back flat, his broad palms running from your ribs to your flank soothingly as he settled between your thick thighs.

His eyes were all black, the usual greyblue just a thin strip around the edges as he took you in in all your glory.

The need to make you keen and cream on his fingers was obvious by his hungry expression and the flexing of his hold on your softest parts.

“Been wanting this for too long, Sunshine,” he whispered. “Longer than you know.”

“Think I can guess,” you gasped as he lowered himself down and kissed your stomach, making sure to cover each curve and roll as he journeyed up, keeping his warm palms cupped and dragging up your sides as he kissed between your breasts. Your knees squeezed him at the ribs when he palmed one of your tits, using the light hold to lick a broad stripe over the sensitive nipple. He went back to kissing higher, trailing up along your stretched neck and biting teasingly at your earlobe before coming face to face.

“Any preferences?” Fingers, tongue, toys.

“I’d prefer to cum sooner than later,” you said cheekily, basking in his eye roll.

“Yes, ma’am,” he huffed good naturedly. “I’ll do my best.”

He leant down and kissed you, plunging and messy, not like the dry brush of lips in the rain or the rushed eager swaps of spit and squished smiles on the way home and into your bedroom. You brushed your hands over his furry chest and trembled pleasantly, raking your fingers through and sighing at the strength usually hidden beneath layers of baggy and comfortable clothing.

“John,” you sighed and he shuffled his way down back between your legs.

“Just lay back and relax,” he ordered before trailing his nose through your bush, huffing in an opened-mouthed breath with a pleased hum.

“Need a map?” You joked breathily, breath hitching when he huffed an amused breath at your opening, pressing a light kiss there afterwards. His thumb gently spread your vulva and he gave a gentle kitten lick. Using the building wetness he found he trailed his thumb lower to your arsehole and kept it there with little pressure.

“Nah, this is your clit, right?” he asked teasingly. You snorted, but felt your pussy clench and your muscles tense when he added a bit of pressure.

“John—“

“Relax,” he said again. He moved his attention and his hand back up. “Don’t need a guided tour, though I appreciate the offer; wouldn’t mind watching you show me what you like another day. But I know what I’m doing, love.”

He licked a stripe up your centre and your eyes fluttered, your hips pushing up into his hands when he puckered his wet lips around your clit and gently suckled. “Yeah, you do,” you whimpered.

He slipped his middle finger inside fluidly, no resistance, and you let out a soft sigh, your hips subtly raising to get him as deep as you could. He changed the angle of his mouth so his strong nose nudged at your bundle of nerves and he could mouth at your plush wet opening instead. He licked around his finger, adding to the sticky mess as you practically sucked him in.

He could tell by the flutters of your cunt that you were enjoying yourself, the pinch of your brow only adding to his confirmation when he looked up, but you were so quiet.

“Y’can be loud for me, Sunshine,” he said, curling his finger and grinning cheshire-cat-wide when your jaw dropped at the feeling. “Don’t be shy.”

“Give me reason to,” you said with a cut off gasp. “W-work for it.”

He felt heat rush to his core, fattening his already throbbing cock.

As you wish.

He hooked one trembling thigh over his meaty shoulder and focused back on the heat between your legs; like sticky syrup, slippery between the pads of his fingers as he dipped a second finger in beside the first.

He gave you a moment to clench around the thicker intrusion with closed eyes before setting a quicker, less forgiving pace than before. You let out a surprised grunt, your hand flying down to grip his hair as he sealed his lips to your clit with a wagging tongue.

“Fuck.”

His left hand moved to keep your hips still, strapped across your soft tummy like a seatbelt, his palm a firm pressure in the soft pudge below your bellybutton.

He broke the seal of his mouth to heave in a panting breath and nibbled at the soft skin of your thigh beside his head to catch his breath while his fingers continued to pull sweet noises from you.

You whimpered softly, dropping your hands to the mattress and clinging tight to the sheets and felt your cheeks heat up when John chuckled.

“Can’t tell what I prefer hearing,” he said and paused his fingers deep inside of you, spreading them to get a little look at the desperate cling of you around his long digits. Your creamy arousal slid down the back of his hairy knuckles and he revelled in the light squelch as you wriggled in his hold, urging his fingers deeper inside. “Your sweet cunt or your careful moans.”

“Please, John,” you asked. Pleaded. “I’m close.”

He slipped his fingers free of your tight clutch and shushed you with a smile when you whined. Licking his pruny fingers clean, he groaned at the taste.

“I’ll get you there, Sunshine, don’t worry.”

He left a wet smack of a kiss on your thigh before ducking back down and licking deep and insatiable into your needy cunt, his fingers focused on your sensitive clit instead, rubbing almost too hard and too fast as your hips pushed your cunt further into his mouth. His arm kept you locked close and unable to shift away, not that you wanted it to end, but the sudden onslaught of hyper-focused attention was a lot after his teasing and after so long without a partner. Your hand had made its way to the back of his head once more, cupping gently, but urging him forward with a steel determination. He wasn’t allowed back up for air until you’d cum.

He pinched your clit and you shrieked at the nip of pain beneath the pleasure, feeling yourself tumble over the edge as he huffed and grunted into your pussy like a man starved.

John held you close by the thighs with both hands as you arched and clenched on his tongue; slobbering and groaning against your tender vulva as you cried out. He gave your thigh one light but sharp slap as you flooded his senses; sweaty and salty, the taste and scent of you.

You collapsed back with a breathy little, hnngh, and let your fingers scratch lazily through his hair where he’d rested his face in the groove of your groin.

He hummed and dragged himself further up your body before slumping over you, kissing the taste of you into the back of your mouth, ingraining it into your tongue, gums and teeth as you whined and writhed beneath him.

“Jesus fucking christ,” you laughed tiredly into his mouth. “Gimme a chance.”

He smiled and ground himself against your hip. “Can’t help it, y’make me feel like a teenager.”

Your nose scrunched and he huffed a laugh. “A’right, won’t make that comparison again.”

You pecked his lips in thanks and slipped your hand down between you, gathering a glob of your own arousal between your fingers. Thoroughly lubed, you pushed your hand under the band of his boxers and rubbed the collected juices over his cock and watched his brow pinch in pleasure.

It was your turn to tease.

You leant up and kissed him open mouthed and slow, the tease of tongue against his lips as he humped against your hand, moans mingling in breaths shared.

You moved your hand lower, went to slip in a finger but he gripped your wrist tightly. You looked up with wide eyes, hand falling loose in his grip where it had stopped you in your tracks.

“No, not like that. I don’t— I don’t like—“

“That’s ok,” you interrupted his stuttering explanation, watching walls build up before your eyes that you were determined not to let solidify. He didn’t need them around you. “We can just keep doing it like before,” you offered easily with a smile and lingering kiss to his fuzzy cheek. “Whatever you want.”

John guided your hand back up hesitantly, watching you as though waiting for the other shoe to drop. He kept your fingers hovering over his cock once more and you pushed forward to rub from tip to root and back up again.

“Yeah?” You asked and watched as his shoulders relaxed again. He moved his arm to lean back on his elbow by your head and you smiled, satisfied with the show of trust. “Yeah, ok.”

You pushed against the spot just below the head of his cock, trapping it against his pubic mound and were gratified as he groaned low, like the sound was forcibly pulled out of him as he thrusted roughly against your fingers. John ducked his head and kissed you, missing the mark in his desperation and licking against the corner of your mouth instead.

You nudged your face up slightly and let him moan against your lips, quickly falling into the distraction of getting him dripping and close; pulling out all your tricks and feeling yourself get worked up in return whenever you felt him throb and pulse in your hand, his thick, hairy thighs shifting either side of yours.

He pulled back and you paused your ministrations immediately, worried you’d done something wrong again, but John hurriedly tugged his boxers down and off, kicking them away from the bed and diving back towards you with a ravenous kiss.

Rolling onto his back, John tugged you into his lap so you were straddling him and for the first time in his presence a burst of hesitance connected to your weight bloomed in your chest.

You lifted up on your knees slightly to relieve some of your weight from his hips.

“Oh, John I don’t know—“

“Come ‘ere, Sunshine,” he pulled your hips back down and urged you to ride him, moving with his own frotting hips as your vulva spread to soak around his cock.

With each grind, the head nudged slightly from its foreskin and kissed your clit perfect as you tilted back. You huffed a weak moan as he slipped through your folds and the schlickschlickschlick sounds of your combined arousal mingling and frothing between your thighs had you panting and moving quicker.

Once you found your pace, one hand balanced back on his hairy thigh and the other rubbing at your clit furiously, he lifted his hands from the fat of your hips and stomach up to thumb at your nipples.

You noticed how he moaned and tensed when you slipped heavily over his sensitive tip and grinned a little meanly as you focused a careful swivel of your hips to catch your slick centre on it. You clenched and gushed over his throbbing tip as he whined, gripping you tightly to try and pull you lower.

“Close?” You asked with a breathy giggle, feeling your own legs shake with the oncoming orgasm.

You traced gentle fingers over his faded top scars beneath his thick thatch of chest hair as he groaned and leant down to kiss him. It didn’t take much longer for you both to cum, both worked up and the constant, teasing brushes at your cores were enough to gradually tip you over the edge.

His hand in your hair kept your mouths attached as you panted hot and wet, and when you broke free to the side his beard was scratchy against your nose and cheek as you shuddered on top of him.

“John, fuck.”

“Just like that, just like that,” he thrusted up in jerky little motions before stilling.

You flopped to the side a moment later, less conscious of your weight but wanting to be comfortable, and he gathered you close immediately. He tucked you under his chin with a grunt, slipping a leg over yours.

“I’m not letting you out of this bed for a week,” he groaned sleepily. You hummed happily, exhausted. He let you drift off before whispering in your ear. “Sorry this isn’t slow, Sunshine, but I won’t be going back to being friends now.”

You grinned and nuzzled closer.

“I think we should go visit my home town next, only fair you meet my crazy family too, yeah?”

John closed his eyes happily and nodded. “Looking forward to it,” he said. “Though my rates are a little higher than £100.”

You pinched his thigh and laughed when he tried to squirm away with a hiss.

You kissed his neck chastely and tightened your arm around his waist, nodding off as you felt him trail a hand back and forth over your naked back.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

MAY THIS KIND OF LOVE NEVER FIND ME. ( HOTD! MODERN AU! X READER )

AUTHOR NOTE! Back to posting for a short time cuz I go back to full time college in a week. <3 pairing: Modern AU! Aegon Targaryen x Reader prompt : based on the trend of 'may this love / kind of love never find me' trend on tiktok, where Aegon is determined to make your relationship the opposite of the trend. word count: 1, 000+ words

Aegon had never been the best of boyfriend’s, he was well aware of that. He would often forget important dates, anniversaries⎯being the worst. Or the names of the women he dated, earning him a hefty amount of slaps and curses. He could be brash, too much to the point where it was no longer charming. He could be temperamental, jealous, and admittedly a spoiled brat. 

He’d like to think the concoction that was his childhood, with sprinkles of generational trauma added for ‘spice’, made him that way. But, he at least attempted with you, which was more than he could say about previous relationships. Key word on attempted to be the best boyfriend that he could be. 

He had once brought you flowers, though they were crushed from stupidly sitting on them. Or the time that he took care of you after your wisdom teeth removal, where he had smacked you in the face with the apartment door. Or the other time where he had tried to be romantic and carry you bridal style, only to smash his toe in the corner of the couch and drop you on the floor. The attempt was there, really, he just sucked at his execution of it.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Aegon scrolled through the photos of some random couple on social media, reading the caption. ‘Yeah, he doesn’t help me with the kids. But, it’s not that big of a deal.’, along with cheesy hashtags for ‘true love’ and ‘true marriage’. Wrinkling his nose up at it, he clicks on the comments, seeing a flood of ‘red flag alert’ and ‘leave him, girl’. Seeing another post linked to it, he clicks on it, unable to resist the urge to look into some else's relationship. After all, they were the ones airing it all out, it wasn’t his fault if he looked. 

Seeing another couple posing in cheesy photos, the caption once again airing out a little too much of their business, ‘He doesn’t help around the house, like ever. But, that’s what I like. It’s totally fine, so no hate comments about him, please.❤️’ Scrolling through each comment he could see, he pauses on the most liked, ‘May this kind of love never find me’. His gut churns in a way that he doesn’t like. Okay, that one kinda hit a little too close to home. He didn’t really help a lot around the apartment, but it’s because you liked things to be done a certain way. 

“No, Aegon, just let me do this⎯” You protest, visibly wincing at the way he dusted the bookshelf.

“Why? I wanna help. I’m not incompetent, babe.” He argues, wiping away specs of dust. 

“No, no, just stop.” You snatch the dust rag from his hand, “I just⎯I just like theses kind of things to be done a certain way. Just leave it alone.”

Clicking onto the audio attached to the pictures, he falls into a rabbit hole of posts, a hashtag attached. ‘#May this kind of love never find me’. Each post spouts out relationship dramas and ‘icks’, from leaving the toilet seat up at night to not doing anything for their partners on birthdays and anniversaries.

Then, there were the video’s. Some of them from couples, others from fanart of book series, and some from couples from TV Shows and Movies. His gut churns more and more as they point out faults that were a little too close to his own. The top comments are always the same in one way or another, ‘may this kind of love never find me’.

“Aegon?” You call, snapping him out of his daze.

“Oh, yeah, um, hey!” He forces a smile, turning off his phone. 

“Are you okay? You look like a kicked puppy.” You raise a brow, poking your head out from the hallway closet.

“Yeah, yeah, just my football team lost and now I gotta deal with some shit in my fantasy football league. Move some players around and try to trade others, you know?” He lies, trying to make you uninterested as possible to drop the subject.

“Um, not my expertise. But, um, hopefully, it all turns out well for your team.” You offer a soft smile, “I guess?” 

Faltering at your words, he stiffly nods his head in agreement, watching as you fill another cardboard box with clutter from the closet. He could see the specs of old warped pieces of newspaper and a broken vase peek out from the top. Licking his chapped lips, he shifts on the couch, turning his open on and off. The home screen pops up, showing a photo of you and him, posed in cheesy 80s inspired sweaters. Turning his phone off for good, he watches you pick up the box, softly closing the closet door shut with your hip. 

“So, um, what are you going to do with that stuff?” He 

“Oh, most of it is broken junk, so trash. But, I do wanna go to the basement storage and see what else is broken to throw out. We can use the empty space in the apartment, you know?” You explain, giving the cardboard box a soft shake to motion to the junk inside.

“Oh, cool.” He nods, not really paying too much attention to your words.

“Yeah, if you're not too busy with your fantasy football stuff, you can see what else is broken in the apartment and bring it downstairs with me.” You smile, offering him the chance to join. 

“Oh, yeah, um, sure.” He hums, not in the least bit interested in the idea of doing spring cleaning.

Looking down at his lap, he clicks the power button on his phone, the home screen popping back up again. He stares at your face, a hint of a pout curling at his lips. His mind kept wandering back to those posts, the captions and comments about how horrible the relationships sounded.

What if you felt the same way that those people in the comments felt about your relationship? Would you dump him? No, you should dump him. Just like those comments said in other posts. Watching as the screen goes black and his phone turns off, he knew that he should talk to you about it, after all, communication was something you wanted more of on his end.

“You don’t have to, Aegon.” You sigh, putting the box down on the coffee table.

“No, I’ll come down, just gonna take my time to look at my stuff.” He shakes his head, “I’m sure I’ve got some junk in there.”

‘He doesn’t help around the house. But, he can’t help it.’

‘He just forgets things a lot of the time, not stuff he likes, but stuff that I like or I consider kinda important.’

‘He doesn’t like when I wear revealing stuff. It’s not really his fault, it’s mine.’

‘He tends to get jealous really quickly, so I stopped hanging out with my friends.’

It kept on spiraling in his head, those captions that he swore he had heard you complain about at least once in your relationship. Or was he just being paranoid now? Were his thoughts just spiraling so much that he couldn’t tell what was real and what was just the influence of social media? Or had you truly said those things to him and he had ignored them?

Chewing on his bottom lip until he tasted blood, he turned on his phone one last time, just staring at the home screen. Seeing the time, he lets out a sigh, deciding now was the time to stop sulking and help you downstairs. Throwing his phone carelessly onto the coffee table, it smacks the lamp, sending it falling onto the rug. 

Bang.

“Aw, fuck!” He curses, scrambling to pick up the pieces of the now broken lamp.

The vase bottom was now cracked down the center, still held together miraculously, but cracked enough to ruin the aesthetic of it. Maybe he could fix it? Add some gold paint over the crack like in those art posts you liked on social media. Say it was a craft or something, right? Wincing softly at the damage, he turns the lamp on, the bulb letting out a loud crackling before popping. Nevermind.

“Fuck my life.” He grumbles, pissed he had ruined your lamp.

Running his hands through his hair, he looks for the cardboard box, hoping to hide the evidence of your massacred lamp under the other junk. Not seeing it, he grumbles as he realizes you took the box downstairs with you. Great, he was gonna have to explain what happened. Chewing on his bottom lip, he saunters into the kitchen, hoping to find some kind of sweets to sweeten you up with. Finding some slightly stale biscuits in the pantry, he puts them on a paper plate, snatching the old container to throw away along with it. 

Forcing himself to act casual, he walks down the stairs, heading to the basement. Seeing you throwing away some moth eaten christmas decoration, he tenses up, feeling like a guilty dog. You were gonna be mad. He just knew it, and it was gonna be like those comments on those couple posts. Stepping on the bottom step, it squeaks loudly under his weight, announcing his presence in the basement. 

“Babe?” You turn around, cracking a half surprised smile at the sight of him. 

“I got you something to eat, cause you were working up a sweat cleaning and all that.” He shoves the plate into your hand, hiding the lamp behind his back.

“Aw, thanks.” You smile, furrowing your brows slightly as he tucks his hands suspiciously behind his back.

“So, um, you’re really pretty, you know that right?” He blurts out, attempting to distract you. 

“Um, thanks, I guess?”

“Yeah, and you’re really funny. Like, the best kind of funny, you know?” He rambles on, attempting to smuggle the lamp in the cardboard box without you seeing. 

Leaning to the left, you furrow your brows at him, leaning to the left with him. Tilting your head to the side, he swore that you knew and were just torturing him. Or was he just being super paranoid now? Sweating slightly at your stare, he pulls you abruptly into a hug, tightly pulling you against his chest with his free hand. Forcing your head into the crook of his neck, he shoves the broken lamp into the box, it clanging with the other junk inside. Letting out a soft sigh, he lets you go, watching you stare at him like he had another head. 

“Aegon?” You ask, a hint of suspicion in your tone. 

“Yeah, sweetie?” He chuckles, trying to act as if he was not just having a mini heart attack just moments ago. 

“Is that my lamp?” You push him aside, pointing to the lamp in the box. 

“Um, no..?” 

“No, that is my lamp.” You argue, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Pff! It’s like totally not your lamp, you're just seeing things!” He weakly chuckles, sweating. 

“Are you calling me crazy?” You scoff, unamused by his incriminating behavior. 

“Yes..?” He asks unsure, “No? Um, like in a sexy way?”

--

[onlyyoucanhurtlikethis]

- I get to choose. kylian mbappe, one shot

Her new apartment in Madrid was small but chic—all clean lines and warm light, with windows that let the late-afternoon sun spill across the hardwood floors. The kind of place that felt temporary, like she was just visiting, even though she wasn’t.

Kylian stood in the doorway, arms crossed, watching as she unpacked a box labeled ‘kitchen stuff’ in scrawled marker. He looked amused. And a little annoyed.

“You know this is unnecessary, right?” he said, leaning casually like he hadn’t just dropped his training bag by the door and claimed the space like it was his. Because, in his mind, it was.

She didn’t look up. “It’s my apartment. I like it.”

“You could’ve just moved in with me.”

She sighed, unwrapping bubble wrap from some overpriced glassware she already regretted buying. “I need my own space, Ky.”

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. “Why?”

She turned, leaning her hip against the counter. “Because I just moved countries for you. I love you, but I need to breathe.”

His jaw twitched. “So living with me is suffocating?”

She laughed, low and knowing. “You know how you are.”

“How am I?”

She shot him a look, sharp but fond. “Possessive. Controlling. Always needing to know where I am. Tracking my location like I’m your player on the pitch.”

He smirked, unapologetic. “That’s called caring.”

“That’s called being a control freak.”

He shrugged, stepping closer. His hands slid onto her waist, thumbs pressing into the sharp curve of her hips like he was staking a claim.

“You like it,” he murmured against her ear.

She tilted her head slightly, giving him more access. “Sometimes.”

His mouth skimmed her jaw. “Move in with me.”

“I literally just signed a lease.”

“Break it.”

“Jesus.”

His grip tightened, possessive and gentle all at once. “Or don’t. Just know my house is your house. Whenever you want. Key, alarm code, all of it. You come and go as you please.”

Her chest squeezed in that stupid way it always did when he said shit like that. “I know.”

He kissed her—slow, deep, like he had time to kill. She melted into it because, of course, she did. Her fingers slid into his hair, tugging just a little. He made that noise she liked, low and rough in his throat.

“You smell good,” he murmured against her lips.

“You say that every time.”

“Because it’s true.”

She rolled her eyes but kissed him again, nipping his bottom lip because she liked when his eyes went dark like that. His hands slipped under her shirt, thumbs brushing over bare skin. He didn’t push, but he could if he wanted to. They both knew it.

“I missed you today,” he said, quieter now.

Her heart squeezed again. “It’s been eight hours.”

“Exactly.”

She shook her head but smiled. “I missed you too.”

He grinned, all cocky and sweet, the perfect mix that made her weak. “See? Would’ve been easier if you just lived with me.”

“Out.”

“No.”

“I mean it. I have shit to do.”

He glanced at the half-unpacked boxes and raised a brow. “What, playing house?”

“Yes.”

He grabbed her wine glass, took a sip like he paid for it (he probably did), and flopped onto her couch, legs sprawled, completely at home. “Fine. I’ll supervise.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You are insufferable.”

He smirked, eyes glinting. “You love it.”

And she did. God help her, she really did.

Later, after the boxes had been ignored and the wine bottle emptied between them, they ended up on the couch, limbs tangled, the TV playing something neither of them cared about. His hand rested low on her stomach under her shirt, fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns. She let him, eyes half-closed, head on his chest.

“You know you’re going to end up staying at mine half the week anyway,” he muttered.

She hummed. “Probably.”

“So what was the point of all this?”

She tilted her head to look up at him, eyes soft but teasing. “The point is, I get to choose.”

He brushed a kiss to her forehead, a rare tenderness in the gesture. “Fair.”

Silence settled, the comfortable kind. She felt his breathing slow, his hand stilling against her skin.

“You love me,” he murmured sleepily.

She smiled against his chest. “You love me more.”

His low chuckle vibrated through her. “Debatable.”

She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of him, the steady beat of his heart under her ear. Madrid was new, a little daunting. But this—them—this was home.

[igorluvr]

hi hi!! I saw that ur requests r open and I'd like a reader x platonic!thanos group

What if reader is the oldest child from a giant family so when they enter squid game they basically befriend the Thanos group and starts taking care of them!! like giving food and water or stopping fights

thankiuu!!

'THE GREATEST

PAIRING: platonic!thanosgroup x reader

SYNOPSIS: "made it all look painless, man am i the greatest?"; being from a particularly big family, you grew to love taking care of others. luckily for you, your group needed lots of guidance.

CONTENT: anxiety, gyeong-su erasure sorryy, petty ass arguments

AUTHORS NOTE: i hope u like this !!! once again its kinda short sorryyyy

word count: [1.4k]

YOUR team was nothing short of a disaster. Of course, you loved them, but their immaturity was exhausting. Half the group lacked common sense, while the other half seemed too lost in their own worlds to care. Fortunately, you had experience managing chaos and knew just how to handle the situation.

Growing up as the oldest in a large family, you practically took on the role of a third parent. When your mom was sick or dad was at work, it was your responsibility to step in and keep everything together. Even though you often complained about it, you wouldn't change those experiences for the world.

Taking care of your siblings shaped you into who you are today. You matured quickly, learning when to speak up and how to look after those around you. A deep-rooted instinct to protect and support others became part of your identity.

Meeting this group felt perfect for you. Without your guidance, they’d be lost. You loved looking out for them, even if there were many times that made you long for a little more maturity. Unfortunately, you knew those moments of calm and composure were nothing but hopeless dreams.

"Shut up, bitch." came a sharp voice, snatching you away from your thoughts.

You turned to see Nam-gyu, who had a notorious habit of throwing around insults without thinking. Thankfully, he hadn’t directed any at you personally. Sensing that the exchange could escalate, you quickly stepped in.

"Hey, no. We're not doing this. What happened?" you asked, surveying the group. They just stared blankly, not a thought in their mind. Se-mi chuckled softly and looked away, giving away that she was the one he’d yelled at.

Nam-gyu was the first to speak up. "This whore got smart with me. I was just telling Min-su to count the players, then she had to get in the way of our conversation.”

“Y’know it wasn’t much of a conversation to begin with. You were ordering him around like a puppy” Se-mi interrupted, annoyance creeping into her voice. The two of them had a thing for starting arguments, given their short tempers and quick tongues. Still, you felt it was necessary to listen to both sides, no matter how petty the situation was.

"You're the one who started it by calling me stupid!" Nam-gyu shot back, his voice rising as he sat up straighter. You shot him a warning glare, urging him to diffuse the situation.

"I didn’t say you were stupid, I asked if you were. But now I think you might actually be…" Se-mi added, infuriating him further. Nam-gyu sprang to his feet, ready to lash out, but you swiftly stepped between them, pushing him back down.

You swallowed your frustration and forced a smile, determined to maintain some kind of peace. "You both just misunderstood each other, simple as that. I would say to put this behind you, but we both know that's not happening... so apologize, both of you."

Se-mi scrunched her face in disbelief. "Why do I have to apologize? He’s just a whiny tweaker I swear" she muttered, the last part barely audible. You knew her words rang true, but he would never apologize unless she did first.

"Fine, I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t trying to call you stupid." Se-mi admitted, tone forced. Turning to Nam-gyu, you waited expectantly for his response.

"Sorry too, I guess," he shrugged, a hint of annoyance in his voice. Neither apology sounded genuine, but it was better than nothing.

You smiled sweetly at both of them and returned to your spot, relieved that the argument had been defused—at least for now. It was always a hassle to keep them from fighting, but it was a small price to pay that came with being associated to them.

After an uneventful hour filled with silly conversations and occasional naps, it was finally time to eat. It seemed that each passing day, the meals grew lower in quality. You considered bringing it up, but you knew that everyone had enough to deal with already.

Instead, you made sure the group lined up closely together to receive their food, one by one. You could barely call it a meal, but it was enough to get by.

"This isn’t even enough food for a baby, what do they expect us to do with this?" Nam-gyu complained, his relentless negativity shining.

“It’s enough to make it through the night. Better than nothing, right?” you countered with an encouraging smile. He lazily shrugged in response, groaning as he took a bite of the pastry.

Averting your gaze, you noticed Thanos hadn’t touched his food at all. He sat there, staring blankly into the distance. His pupils were dilated, and his mouth hung open in a daze. Rolling your eyes at his ignorance, you knew he still needed to eat, regardless of the drugs clouding his mind.

“Hey, Thanos. You should hurry and eat," you said gently, tapping him on the shoulder. Slowly, his attention turned to you, his eyes still glazed over.

“Nah. Not hungry,” he replied, his voice heavy with drowsiness. Your heart ached. You knew the substances were a coping mechanism for everything going on. You wanted to steer him away from them, but that was well out of your control.

You regarded him with sympathetic eyes, genuinely worried for his health. "Okay, but at least try to eat a little. You might not feel hungry now, but you definitely will in the middle of the night."

He squinted at you, the weight of your words seeming to register slowly. The silence hung heavily between you until he finally spoke.

"Alright, can I get your milk?" he asked nonchalantly. Surprised of the sudden change of mind, you handed over your carton without hesitation, being grateful he was putting effort into looking after himself.

The others continued to eat at their own pace, and a sense of relief washed over you at the sight of them all managing to stay healthy. Gathering all the empty containers and dirty utensils, you returned to your bunks to find a heartwarming scene unfolding before you.

Thanos and Nam-gyu were huddled together in one bunk, gossiping about someone; a pregnant girl and her boyfriend. Meanwhile, Min-su and Se-mi huddled in the bunk below, laughing about something you couldn’t quite make out.

Watching them bond brought a smile to your face. Sure, there were bad days, but moments like these made it all worth it. Suddenly, you heard someone call your name from above.

Looking up, your eyes met with Thanos’. “C’mere, need your opinion on something,” he said. You knew it would likely be stupid, but you had nothing else to do. Climbing up to their bunk, you sat criss-crossed and paid full attention to them.

“See them?” Thanos said, pointing to a couple nearby. One with bangs and a baby bump, the other taller with a slight bruise on his face. You nodded, urging them to continue.

“You think they’re a thing? They’re arguing, maybe he knocked up another girl too,” Nam-gyu inspected. Looking at them in confusion, you were unsure why they told you to come up just to ask that.

“You’re good at reading people, can you tell?” Thanos leaned in closer, his curiosity obvious. Observing the couple, you came to a quick conclusion.

“They’re probably arguing because he wants to spend his money on bitcoin instead of her baby. I mean, isn’t that the dude that made you go in debt?” They both stared harder, eyes blowing wide in realization.

Their faces twisted into frowns of anger, and you quickly recognized that they had been unaware of who that was. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch” Thanos snarled, jumping out of the bed and darting toward the couple.

Before you could process what was happening, you chased after him, attempting to stop him before he made a grave mistake. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you searched his eyes, pleading him to calm down. His expression softened slightly as he muttered a curse under his breath and slumped back to his bunk.

Eventually, everything died down and it was time to go to sleep. You always stayed up longer than everyone else, just to be sure nothing irregular occurred during the night. Usually you were the only one up, but that wasn’t the case this time.

Behind you, a small voice called your name. You turned to see Min-su staring up at you, his eyes glossy and low with fear. Instantly, your mood shifted from agitation to concern. He looked so scared.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, the worry evident in your tone. You quickly observed that Min-su suffered from severe anxiety throughout your days of knowing him, often staring into space rather than drifting off to sleep. The fact that he spoke up made your heart race.

“I can’t sleep. I’m scared,” he mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear. You rubbed his shoulder gently in an attempt to comfort him. “Scared of what?” you asked softly.

He hesitated before answering, “I- I don’t want to keep playing these games. But I don’t want Thanos or Nam-gyu to be mad at me.” His confession hit hard. You knew how much they pressured him to play ‘one more game’

Your heart softened at his vulnerability, searching for the right words. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. They’re both blown out of this world with drugs, so anything they say is probably bad advice.”

Min-su gave a tentative smile at your encouragement. “Don’t think about it too much, get some sleep so you can have energy for tomorrow, okay?” you added, hoping to give him a sense of security. After thanking you, he climbed back into his bed with a shy grin.

As you settled into your own bunk, you felt the familiar quietness swallow you. You were used to these moments of stillness, you found comfort in it rather than uncertainty. The quietness rocked you to sleep, preparing you for the days to come.

[spicycinnabun]

little sequel to this drabble 🌹 happy valentine's day!

Tommy had dressed up. He’d shaved, moisturized, styled his hair, and sprayed cologne. He no longer looked like the hollow shell of a man on the outside, though he still felt like one on the inside.

(Sal had threatened to burn the Old Navy sweatsuit and Uggs, which had become his go-to since he’d broken up with Evan.)

Tommy grabbed the biggest bouquet of roses off the shelf and inspected the petals, smile fading. Were grocery store flowers really adequate?

Would Evan even want them, or would he throw them in the garbage?

“What if he already moved on?” Tommy said. “He probably has a date tonight.”

Which would be fine. Even if it made Tommy's insides curdle to think of Evan dating someone else. And why he'd been completely avoiding social media. Ignorance was bliss when he could keep his mind busy enough not to imagine different scenarios. Hypocritical, he knew, since he was the one who'd shoved Evan in that direction.

“Nah.” Sal turned towards him. “Quit being a fuckin’ mook, Tom. You really wanna give up? According to Wilson, he ain’t over you. And even if he is on a date, so what? Crash it.”

That was absolutely terrible advice. But—

“Wilson said that?” Tommy had to restrain himself from asking for more details. What else did she say? How is he?

Sal gave him a look like he knew exactly what Tommy was thinking. “Yeah, she did. So, go for the grand gesture. Get on your knees if you’ve gotta. Suck it up and beg for him back, and then suck—”

“Finish that sentence, and I’ll shove these down your throat. The thorns won’t play nice.”

Sal laughed. “Alright, tough guy. I’m just sayin'. Don’t wait until it’s too late.” He lifted a delicate pastel purple arrangement off of one of the displays. “Gina goes nuts for the tulips.”

✦🌹💝🧸✦

Tommy stood in front of Evan’s door. In his arms were the roses, a box of chocolates and an overpriced teddy bear with glossy blue eyes. It was holding a heart with curly embroidery that said Will You Be Mine?

That was probably overkill. He really hoped the answer would be yes, though. Or maybe. Maybe would be okay, too.

Tommy’s palms were so sweaty they were almost slipping on the cellophane. His heart was pounding. He couldn’t feel his face.

Sal was right.

He hated being afraid. He hated being vulnerable. He didn’t want his heart broken. But he had to stop trying to predict the outcome. Had to stop assuming Evan's feelings before he'd even had them. He had to give it a shot, or he would regret it for the rest of his life.

Taking a long, deep breath, Tommy knocked.

And waited.

When Evan opened the door, he was covered in flour. His apron was askew and his hair was a mess of curls, like he'd been tugging on them. His eyes were bluer than ever. He looked irritated, splotches of red coloring his cheeks, but his face went completely slack as soon as he registered Tommy.

"Hi, Evan," Tommy said, giving him a soft smile.

"Hi," Evan said, breathless.

[inthelibrarybtw]

you're gonna go far | three - golf & parties

SERIES MASTERLIST pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: where Rafe who hates pogues has a soft spot for one, who couldn't care less about him, she's too independent and too focused on graduating college and making it out of the Cut to pay attention to him or where they say they don't like each other yet for a reason they are always at the same place at the same time, him making time for her and her never pushing him away but again they don't like each other. word count: 5.2k content: angst! alcohol consumption, cursing, fluff authors note: happy valentines! longest chapter so far and I don't think they are getting shorter. Anyways, thank you for everyone who has been reading, liking, reblogging and commenting. enjoy! <3

He couldn’t stand your cold demeanor towards him for one more second. He was aware he wasn’t your favorite person, but you were never cold to him. Bitchy and a pain in his ass sometimes? Yes, but never cold. You had this warm presence he always claimed to hate, but that was a complete lie. That’s one of the reasons he liked you so much; no matter where you were or what you did, you always made things better, not only for him but for everyone around you. That was also why he felt jealous of how you were with the Pogues, even though he would never admit it out loud. He wanted to be the reason you were smiling, which usually wasn’t how things went, and he was aware it was his fault.  

During the next three days, Rafe avoided going to the Country Club on purpose because he wasn’t sure what was going to happen, and he’d rather not make things worse. He knew you hated him at the moment, so to avoid making things worse, he stayed home. He hated feeling that way; it was as if the thought of you was enough to make his brain short-circuit.  

He groaned for what felt like the millionth time that day. Since three days ago, you had been stuck in his mind. He had been uncharacteristically distracted and quiet; his dad had asked him to pull himself together a couple of times during work meetings and he had barely interacted when he got together with his friends.  

“Dude, what's wrong with you?” Topper asked, pausing the game they were playing.  

“I’m fine,” he muttered, his tone indicating he was anything but fine.

“Right, sure, that’s why you have been moping for the past few days like a little boy who lost his mom at the supermarket, because you’re fine… sure.”  

“Not moping, just a lot on my mind.”  

“Like Pogue girl or wor—?” Topper didn’t finish his question before Rafe cut him off.  

“Shut up,” he bites back.  

“Oh! So it is her, huh? What’s her name again?” Rafe shoots him a glare, and Topper lifts his arms in surrender. “Okay, damn! My bad… why don’t we go to the club? A bit of golf might help.”  

“Can’t, I have to help Sarah prepare things for the party.” Topper looks at him, not believing a word that came out of his mouth.  

“Don’t give me that bullshit. You never help her with anything; it’s her party, let her handle it.” Rafe sighs, annoyed. “Come on, man, to release some stress before the party.”  

He stalled for a bit but sighed, giving in. “Fine… one round, that’s it.”  

“Atta boy, I knew you would come through.”  

No, he didn’t forget you worked there and that he might see you, but he was trying his best not to think about that. They made it to the Country Club; Topper had this mischievous gleam in his eyes. He would be lying if he said he didn’t plan this, all to see if you and Rafe could interact again. He had fun watching his friend stumble over his words, but he also knew Rafe was in a better mood every time he saw you, so at the end of the day, it was for the greater good if he saw you.

They made their way to their first hole. Topper didn’t miss how Rafe looked around, giving subtle, constant glances at the trail as they started playing golf. He was struggling to avoid thinking about you, secretly hoping you would show up in your cart, wearing that uniform that fit you like a glove, and… Topper pulls him out of his thoughts by telling him it’s his turn to hit.

—

After your break, you returned to the golf course, ready to continue your round. After a few minutes, you spotted two guys. You prepared mentally to greet them. Over the years, you had learned how to overcome your shyness, but some days, you felt your skin crawl whenever you had to address a club member. When you got closer, you noticed who they were and sighed. You parked the cart, and Topper’s face immediately changed as he gave Rafe a knowing smirk. Rafe turned around and saw you, straightening up as he noticed you stepping out of the cart.  

"Do you ever go to other places?" You smiled but avoided Rafe’s gaze as best you could.  

"Yes, but we just can’t stay away from here." Topper chuckled softly and then turned to see Rafe, who was unusually quiet. It was as if his tongue didn’t work.  

"Will you buy something today, or will I have to beg for tips?" You asked, lifting a brow.  

"We will buy something today, no need to worry," Topper said. He had been there the last few days, and to your surprise, he was nice, unlike other kooks. You had talked briefly with him a couple of times before and could see yourself being friendly with him, not just because your job required you to be nice to them.  

"And we’ll make sure to tip you well too," Rafe said finally chiming in, making you turn to acknowledge him.  

"Okay, good." Topper noticed how you weren’t smiling at Rafe, and as much as he enjoyed the tension, he was curious about what led to this. Rafe, on the other hand, couldn’t stop looking at you.  

"So what’s the special today?" Topper spoke up.  

"We don’t have specials," you smiled. "But the Bloody Mary has been a bit popular today. Here’s the menu if you want to see what else we have." You extended the menu to them, and Rafe took it from your hand, doing anything but looking at the menu.  

"Yo Rafe, everything good?" Topper asked, noticing he was a bit distracted all this while trying not to laugh.  

"Yes, I'm just… deciding what I want." You stood there, trying to mind your business, but you stole a few glances at Rafe. He seemed different today, or maybe you were just imagining things.  

"Well, while he decides, I want a Bloody Mary and two shots," Topper requested nicely.  

"Bloody Mary, simple or double?"  

"Simple, don’t want to overdo it." You nodded.  

"I’ll just have a beer," Rafe asked quietly, noticing the familiarity with which you and Topper talked, and he hated every second of it.

“Okay,” you said as you walked to prepare the Bloody Mary and took out the shots and the beer they had asked for. During this whole time, Rafe couldn’t keep his eyes off you, even if he tried his best not to make it obvious.  

“Bloody Mary and shots,” you handed them to Topper, who grabbed them. “And the beer,” you gave it to Rafe, your fingers touching his slightly, sending a jolt through both your arms, but you ignored it.  

“It’s $30 for the Bloody Mary and the shots.” You turned to Topper, who handed you a fifty-dollar bill.  

“Keep the change,” Topper said, taking a sip. “Wow, this is good.”  

“Thanks,” you smiled, putting the bill away. “The beer is $10.” Rafe handed you the bill quietly, his eyes meeting yours; he could swear you had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen. You looked away and put the bill away. “No tip this time?” you asked, trying to see if he would bite back. He had been uncharacteristically quiet, and that didn’t sit right with you.  

Rafe smirked. “Oh, you want one?”  

“I did an amazing job giving you that beer. I think I deserve it.” A small smile you couldn’t control formed on your lips. Rafe looked over at you before he dared to speak again. He wanted to make a snarky comment to tease you, but nothing came to mind; he only managed a soft grunt.  

“Yeah, you did a great job.” His voice was slightly strained, but Topper didn’t miss the opportunity to chime in.  

“Come on, Rafe, give her a tip. It’s the least you can do; after all, she’s been an amazing waitress.” Rafe shot him a glare, not finding his comment amusing.  

“I’m not a waitress,” you said, looking at them.  

“Bev cart girl, excuse me.” Topper lifted one hand. “Either way, you’ve been great, and I think Rafe here agrees, right, man?” He nudged Rafe, who just huffed quietly.  

“Yeah, you’ve been… great.” His voice was a bit gruff. He wanted to strangle Topper for making this all harder for him. “You deserve a… nice tip.”  

“There you go,” Topper continued teasing him. “Don’t hold back.” Rafe grabbed his wallet, not without giving another look to Topper, wishing he wasn’t there. Now he didn’t want to look cheap, especially not in front of you. He grabbed a fifty-dollar bill and gave it to you. You widened your eyes.  

“What?” Topper wanted to laugh at your reaction; your cold demeanor with him before was gone in an instant, and your eyes had softened. Rafe was a bit embarrassed, blushing, but it was barely noticeable thanks to the weather.  

“Take it as a…” he paused for a second, looking for the right words. “A token of appreciation… for the good service today and on the other days.” He nodded, knowing what he said sounded very stupid.  

“Uh… this is too much; it’s like five beers. It’s—” Before you could even finish, he shook his head.

“Take it. You deserve it.” But this time, the tone he uses makes you believe his words; he’s not playing, he’s not being an asshole. It was one of those moments where you could maybe see another side of him.  

“Thank you.” You give him a small, honest smile, and he softens at the sight of it, his irritation fading slightly. He smiles back, feeling like his heart might leap out of his chest; it’s genuinely embarrassing for him to feel like this around you.  

“No problem.” His voice comes out softer than usual, and you decide to ignore it, even if it’s noticeable.  

“Well… I should be going.” Topper nods and takes another sip of his Bloody Mary. Rafe, on the other hand, isn’t happy about you having to leave.  

“Wait,” he says, making you turn back to him. Even Topper, who was already walking back to his cart, turns to see what Rafe will do. “Uh… before you go,” he pauses to gather his thoughts, “I have a question.”  

“Yeah, what is it?” you ask, a bit confused about where this is going.  

“Do you work here every day?” He never breaks eye contact with you.  

"I usually don’t work on weekends unless they ask me, and my shifts during the week can vary too."  

“What’s the usual?”  

“Uh… 7 to 3. Sometimes I do overtime, and some days I work just half a shift.”  

“You do overtime today?”  

“No, I get off at 3.” Rafe’s eyes light up at your answer, an idea forming in his mind already.  

“Good. There’s a party at my house today at 7. Why don’t you come?”  

“Oh…” you stutter. This is not how you thought this conversation was going to go. In general, you didn’t know how it was going to go, but this was definitely not it. “I—I don’t think I can make it, but thanks.” You see the way his face drops, and for a second, you feel bad. Then you remember who you are dealing with and shrug it off.  

“Right…” he says, feeling very disappointed about it. You get back into the cart and drive away.  

“Look at you, actually trying this time,” Topper says, patting Rafe’s back.  

“Shut up.” Rafe’s soft demeanor is gone the second you’re not around.  

“Oh, okay, I see how it is. Pogue princess disappears, and you’re grumpy again—okay, okay.”  

“I will knock you out.” Rafe points a finger at Topper.  

“Let’s not do that, or who else will be here to help you with her?”  

“Help? I don’t need help.”  

“From where I was standing, you do need help, or did I imagine her saying no?” Rafe glares at Topper, and he takes a sip of his beer. “Fine… I will shut up.”

—

After your shift is over, Sarah and Kie pick you up from the Country Club and go to Kie’s house to relax. Even though you were probably going to end up going out, it was Friday, so it was a given. Probably another Boneyard party, you thought.

You were lying on Kie’s bed, eating the snacks she had brought while Sarah was talking. You weren’t paying too much attention until she spoke directly to you.

“Earth to Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just tired. Golfers can sometimes be a bit too annoying,” you said, thinking about Rafe. Even though he hadn’t been annoying this time around, there weren’t many other words you would openly use to describe him.

“Well, you will forget about those golfers tonight,” she said a bit too happily.

“What do you mean?”

“She didn’t read the group chat,” Kie spoke up and then turned to look at you. “Sarah is having a party tonight at Tannyhill.” You felt your stomach drop; it was the same party Rafe had invited you to, and you had said no because you had plans. You opened your mouth to say something, but Sarah spoke before you could even get a word out.

“No, you can’t say no; it’s mandatory. It’s time for you to unwind!” She wiggled her arms as you stared at her.

“I’m tired, Sarah.” You looked at her and then at Kie, pleading for help. You didn’t want to see Rafe after saying you couldn’t go; it was a choice to see him outside your work hours—a choice you didn’t want to make.

“Sarah is right; you need to unwind. Come on,” Kie nudged you. “You can use my shower if you need to. We can go by your place if you want clothes, but you can use mine; they’ll fit you.” She pointed at her closet.

“You planned this, you evil people,” you pointed at them.

“Maybe, but if not, you were going to say no. And it’s at my house; what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Probably Rafe,” Kie said, almost like she had read your mind. You didn’t say anything.

“He's not going to be a problem; he’s going to be with his friends.”

“Oh yay, Topper and Kelce,” Kie says, rolling her eyes. “They are not the only friends he has, and Kelce is not invited.” At that, you perk up your ears; you want to ask why, but you busy yourself with your phone. “Oh, that’s new. Why?” 

“I said the same. He mentioned something about a fight they had over something he said, but didn’t give me many details, and it’s not like I care… but enough about my brother and his friends. You get ready,” she said, grabbing your shoulders. “And you,” she pointed at Kie, “make sure she gets there,” she said while walking to the door. “See you, my beautiful princesses!”

As Sarah exits Kie’s room, you sigh. “Do I really need to go?” 

“Look, I know you’re done seeing kooks every day, but we can ignore all of them today. Other people are going to the party, so it’s going to be fun. Now come on, let’s get dressed.” 

“I do need to shower first.” 

“Yeah, but first let’s see what you’re going to wear.” She opens her closet and starts taking things out. 

“Hey! This is mine,” I say when I see one of my dresses. 

“Well, look at that,” she jokes. “It’s a sign you need to wear that.” 

“It’s a sign that you robbed my closet.” You grab the mini black dress; it was one of your favorites. 

“Sue me, but this is your sign to use it and take it back to your house.” 

You spend a few more minutes looking at the options she threw at your face, picking what she would wear. After finally deciding, she gives you a towel so you can shower and start getting ready for the party you don’t want to attend. You take your time to shower and get ready, and when you both are set, Kie drives you to your house because you need to give something to your mother, allowing you to leave the things you won’t need and take only your essentials to the party. After that, you pick up the guys and Cleo.

—

When you arrived at the party, it was 7:30 p.m., and the music was blaring from inside. There were more people than you had expected to be there at that time, but again, it was Sarah’s party, so of course, there were going to be many people already there. You planned to stay at the party for a few hours, then say you had to wake up early the next day and leave. However, it was easier said than done.

As you walked inside, the music grew louder, and you saw some familiar faces smiling at you as they looked your way. As you and the Pogues searched for Sarah, you began to feel a bit anxious. You shouldn’t feel bad about saying no to Rafe and then showing up… but then why did you? You finally found her in the kitchen, where the snacks and cold drinks were.

“Y/N!!! You look so pretty!” she exclaimed happily as she hugged you first.

“What are we, chopped liver?” Cleo chimed in teasingly.

“Oh, please don’t say that. I’m happy to see you all here, but let’s be honest: when was the last time this girl actually got ready for something other than work?” Sarah stated again, and everyone silently agreed with her. You rolled your eyes.

“At least I work,” JJ chuckled quietly at your comment.

“Ouch?” Sarah feigned offense. “Enough about work. Grab a drink and make yourselves at home. John B is outside, so go. I’ll be there in a minute,” she said, disappearing again. JJ didn’t need to be told twice to grab a drink and went straight for a beer, and so did Cleo and Pope. Kie made herself a drink, and you did the same, but unlike Kie, yours had barely any alcohol; it was mostly just Sprite.

As you walked out of the kitchen, you caught a glimpse of Topper, who looked at you, scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion. You hurried away quickly, cursing internally. If he saw you, that meant he was going to tell Rafe whether you liked it or not, but just like Kie had told you, you were going to ignore everyone and stick to your friends.

One thing you hadn’t considered or even thought about was that maybe Rafe would be outside. You didn’t see him, but he saw you when you and the Pogues stepped out. His gaze would normally soften when he saw you, but at that moment, he felt betrayed. Did you hate him that much? He didn’t think you were the kind of person who would willingly lie just to make someone feel bad.

—

As the night went on, you focused on your friends and those who came to the group to talk instead of on where you were. Rafe, on the other hand, was drinking to distract himself from your presence. He had noticed you were chatting with a guy who had approached you. You thought this guy was nice, but Rafe didn’t; he would have done something about it but decided to drink instead. 

You caught glimpses of Rafe, each time with a new girl and always with a drink in hand. Why couldn’t he stick to just one girl? You found yourself caring too much about what he was doing and refocused on the guy in front of you. You weren’t really interested, but it was always nice to meet new people.

“Are you trying to burn a hole in the back of her head?” Topper asked when he noticed the intense gaze Rafe had on you. 

“What?” 

“You are staring.” Topper glanced at you too; he had to admit you looked good. 

“You are too.” 

“Don’t drag me into this, but in my defense, she looks really good.” Topper said with a teasing tone, wanting to mess with him. Rafe took a big sip of his drink, feeling the burning sensation slide down his throat. “Woah, slow down.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” 

“I get it; you’re jealous, but don’t take it out on the alcohol. Drink some water, or you will regret it.” 

“I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous of that? He’s…” Rafe trailed off. He didn’t know what to say. He was talking to you, and you were engaged in the conversation. You were interested, which you usually weren’t with him. So yeah, he was jealous. 

He downed the drink in his hand and kept staring at you as if it were his life’s purpose. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way; he had no power over you, but it was as if you held power over him. If you were his girl, he would make sure everyone knew, but you weren’t, so he had to let you be and let you talk to whoever you wanted, even if the guy wasn't good enough. You deserved someone who could give you everything. He could be… he stopped himself; he couldn’t keep thinking about this. So, more alcohol it was.

You went inside the house to grab a new drink and more ice. He saw you, and before his brain fully processed it, he was already following you. He was a man on a mission, though what that mission was, even he didn't know. He heard Topper saying something, but he ignored it; nothing was more important than getting to you. 

When you got to the kitchen, you felt a sense of relief—no one was there. You grabbed more ice and Sprite; you weren't really in the mood for an alcoholic drink. After pouring it into your red cup, you stayed there, and then Rafe showed up, interrupting your party break just like he had done at the Boneyard. You didn’t want to deal with him alone… again. 

Some might say you couldn't move on from what he said and that you resented him. Well, maybe you did, and you hated it because it felt like allowing him to dictate your feelings. Your thoughts were interrupted by his closeness. Oh, he was drunk; his eyes were different, and he seemed more relaxed than usual, but you noticed something was bothering him.

“So…” he cleared his throat. “Weren’t you busy tonight?”  

“I wasn’t going to come; your sister made me,” you answered.  

“Right…” he paused for a second. “Next time, don’t lie to my face,” he said with annoyance. You huffed at his tone.  

“I’m not wasting my time with you.” You turned away from him, not catching his comment.

“No… come on, I want to talk to you.” He stepped in front of you to stop you from leaving; he was set on talking to you.  

“I doubt it. I know I have nothing to talk to you about.”  

“Yes, you do. We have things to talk about.” The way he said it made it easy for you to know what he was referring to, and it made you angry. He had to be drunk to address it for the first time when he had seen you plenty of times before.  

“No, I’m not doing this today; in fact, I'd rather never do it.”  

“Y/N…” he spoke your name almost pleadingly and a bit slurred. “I know I messed up…” he started, but you quickly interrupted him.  

“Stop it.”  

“Let me talk! I’m trying to make things right, and you’re not letting me!”  

“Yes! Because you are drunk, Rafe! And I’m not having this conversation with you like this or ever. For all I know, you’re doing this just because you are drunk or high or both.” He knitted his eyebrows together at your words.  

“What? I’m not high. Who do you think I am?”  

“It’s common knowledge that the only reason you would ever step into the Cut is for drugs from Barry.”  

“According to who? Your pogue friends?” He felt the anger bubbling up, and you huffed.  

“Why do you always have to say it like that?”  

“Like what?”  

“Like you hate them, like you hate us.”  

“Bold statement coming from you,” he said, the alcohol making it harder for him to filter his words.  

“Excuse me?” You asked, genuinely confused at what he was hinting at.  

“Oh, what? Pogue girl get offended? At least I can say it without having to lie.” You scrunched your face; there was one thing you hated more than anything, and that was being called a liar.  

“I have never lied to you. Actually, I think I have been transparent enough to let you know I can’t stand you.”  

“Oh, I got that clear, pogue. You hate me, I know. You lied to prove your point; next time, just have the guts to say it upfront.”  

“What are you on about?”  

“This party! I invited you; I wanted you here, and you said no.” He grabbed a bottle of some liquor and took a swig of it, the burning sensation numbing, for a second, all that he was feeling at the moment. “You said to MY face you were busy and couldn’t come, and look at you here, having the time of your life, laughing with your friends and talking to other guys who don’t even deserve your attention.”

He took another swig from the bottle of what you now know is whiskey. You were confused, perhaps even in denial about his words.  

“I didn’t know!” you huffed. “I didn’t know this was the plan; I was going to go out with my friends, and I didn’t know this was the place.”  

“You want me to believe you didn’t know, huh? Your little nice act won’t work this time.”  

“No, no, I’ve gotten enough shit from you. I won’t put up with this,” you said, walking out of the kitchen. He stopped you in the middle of the hallway. “Rafe, stop it!”  

“No! You aren’t even listening to me!”  

“Why should I? I’m wasting my time here.”  

“Pardon me, your Majesty. I know there are other people more deserving of your attention than me,” his voice dripping with anger and sarcasm.  

“Leave me alone for once!” You pulled your arm away and walked out of the house, not even thinking twice about it. You thought it was over, but you were wrong.  

“Running away again? That’s all you seem to know how to do every time I say something you don’t like.”  

“You’re an even bigger asshole when you’re drunk,” you huffed.  

“Me? You’re the one lying when I’m trying to be nice to you.”  

“Nice? How? Talking down to me and my friends? Making me feel like I don’t belong here?”  

“Not all of us are natural rays of sunshine, princess.” He stopped. “I… It’s hard for some people. I—” he groaned, “I wanted you here! I’m sorry for—” you interrupted him.  

“You’re drunk.”  

“I know what I’m saying! Stop acting like I don’t. I mean this!”  

“No!”  

“STOP, Y/N! JUST… stop.” He sighed and walked closer to you, making you take a step back. 

“I’m trying here… but you’re being an asshole about it, and I’m TRYING to apologize for something I know I did wrong.”  

“You’re drunk…”  

“Stop saying that, as if it makes my words invalid! I know what I’m saying and I mean every word!”  

“I don’t believe them! Is that what you wanted to hear? I don’t believe drunk words; alcohol doesn’t allow you to think straight, and I told you I don’t want to talk about it.” You turned away, ready to walk.

“For someone who claims to always be kind, you are doing a terrible job right now.” You stop in your tracks but don’t look back. “I’m here being honest, and all you do is think the worst of me… you’re just like everyone else…” he said, slurring more as the alcohol finally caught up to him. “I’m actually sorry, princess…” 

You heard the moment he walked back inside, and you finally turned. You watched as he went in and disappeared into his house, leaving you with the silence of the night and your thoughts. Why did he always leave you like this? Always analyzing his words. He sounded sincere; you could feel that, but there were so many layers to the conversation you didn’t want to dissect, yet you knew you were going to.

“You're leaving?” Topper interrupted your thoughts.

“Uh… yeah, I’m tired.” 

“Who is taking you?” No one; you were going to walk. A stupid decision, probably. 

“My friends,” you lied. 'You’re the one lying,' Rafe’s words echoed in your head. 

“Liar, they’re still inside.” You sighed. “Come on, I’ll drop you off. I need to buy more ice, so let’s go.” You didn’t protest and followed him to his car. 

You got in, gave him the address, and he drove in silence. He stopped for a bit of ice at a small store he found when he was closer to the address you provided. 

“Here, it’s okay.” You made him stop beforehand. You didn’t give him the exact address of your house; you were a bit paranoid about sharing it unless it was someone close to you. Topper parked his car right where you told him. 

“Thanks… you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Rafe would’ve killed me if something happened to you.” He paused, debating whether to say something else. “He would’ve done it, but he was too drunk.” 

“Yeah…” you said quietly. “I promise I didn’t know I was going to end up at the party…” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said sincerely. “You don’t owe me or anyone an explanation.” You nodded; you knew that, but it was as if you needed to ensure someone understood. You said your goodbyes and walked to your house, which was just around the corner from where Topper had left you.

You went directly to your room to change clothes. It was supposed to be a good night, and yet here you were, with your feelings all over the place, but mainly feeling guilty.

12:55 AM - Pope “Where are you?”

12:55 AM - Pope “Please tell me you’re alive”

12:55 AM - You “I am, sorry for leaving without saying anything”

12:56 AM - Pope “Still didn’t answer me. Where are you”

12:56 AM - You “I’m home”

12:56 AM - Pope “How? Who? The guy you were talking to?!”

12:57 AM - You “No… Topper… he went to buy ice and dropped me off”

12:57 AM - Pope “Topper? As in Sarah’s ex? tf”

12:57 AM - You “As in Rafe’s friend”

12:57 AM - Pope “Oh…”

12:58 AM - Pope “Something happened again huh?”

12:58 AM - You  “I’m okay, I just need sleep.”

12:58 AM - You  “I’m exhausted, it was a long day”

12:59 AM - Pope “Whatever you need just let me know, fyi I will tell Cleo about this.”

12:59 AM - You “I didn’t expect less”

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[seoulmatez]

𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈

itoshi rin x reader ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ♡

a/n: something short and sweet for valentine's day :3

There are two places you can look if you’re trying to find Rin on Valentine's Day—the arena where he practices or the comfort of his home. The hallmark holiday has never meant much to him and he’s always made that much abundantly clear. It’s never bothered you, his indifference, that is. You’re usually just as busy and the two of you go out on enough dates any other day of the year that celebrating doesn’t feel like a necessity.

So when Valentine's Day comes and goes this year without a peep from your boyfriend, you don’t bat an eye.

The next day is much like any other—Rin is off to practice and you’re back at work. Though, when it’s time for you to clock out, you don’t start on the way home like you usually do. Instead, you make a stop at the store and then walk the route to Rin’s apartment.

You check the time as you approach the door. The sun has almost set—he should be home by now. You slow to a stop when his apartment number comes into view, raising your fist to knock thrice on his door. The stillness—silence—of the hallway makes you awkwardly rock back and forth on your feet as you wait for a response. A few moments pass before you hear something on the other side of the door, then it opens.

Rin looks freshly showered—deep strands of hair looking even darker with their dampness, the fresh scent of soap wafting through the air. He pulls the door open wider in a silent invitation to let you in. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You shoot him a smile as you join him in the entryway, kicking your shoes off in favor of house slippers. You meet his teal gaze once more. “How was practice?”

He hums noncommittally as he closes the door, rolling his shoulders back with his reply. “Fine. I’m a little sore.”

“Sit. I’ll give you a massage.” You’re no masseuse but even if you can offer him only a little relief, you’re more than happy to try. And Rin doesn’t argue, he simply follows your gentle command, plopping down on the couch without another word. You shrug your bag off your shoulder to join him and catch sight of something when you move to set it down. 

 “Oh, here—got these for you.” You grab the box of chocolates you picked up before coming here and hold it out to him as you sit beside him on the couch.

Rin eyes the heart-shaped box warily before hesitantly taking it. He’s suddenly struck with a sense of unease, one that makes him feel even more tense than he already had after practice. Yesterday had passed so quietly that he’d forgotten about it—he thought you had too.  “...Why?”

You shrug. “They were on sale. Why not?”

It’s more than that, though. You don’t voice it, but the small gesture, to you, is meant to serve as a reminder that you love him. One that’s meant to have no strings attached—though, that part of your little plan does seem to have unfolded how you hoped if Rin’s silence and indifferent countenance is any evidence.

You’re about to speak up and tell him that you don’t expect anything in return, that this isn’t you saying that you want more—but his voice sounds in the air before yours has the chance to.

“Then…” he opens the box and picks out one of the chocolates, holding it out to you, “half are yours.”

You grin happily and your expression is infectious enough to spread to Rin, albeit, in the form of a smaller smile. You lean forward toward his hand. “Don’t mind if I do.”

sua here ( ≧ᗜ≦) thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[megumiluvv]

“Oh, by the way, what are you getting your partner for Valentine’s Day?” Choso hears his coworker ask him.

Valentine’s Day. He had almost forgotten. What is he going to get you? Should he plan a date? He can’t, you’re Yuji’s babysitter. He doubts Gojo will let the boy stay the night during Valentine’s of all days. What is he supposed to do?

“Uh, I’ll show you next time I see you.” He quickly covers for his coworker.

“Hah, can’t wait, see you later.”

He can’t believe that the coworker bought that poor excuse. Now he just needs to come up with something. He’s scrolling through his phone when his phone dings. A message from Sukuna.

Of course! How could he forget that he has an uncle? Sukuna can handle watching Yuji for a night, right? As if he has plans anyways. He checks the text from the older male.

“Are you needing a babysitter for tonight or do you not have plans?”

“I was just about to text you.” Choso replies, though he obviously just got the idea. “Can you watch Yuji for the night?”

“I guess, you’re so inconvenient.”

“You messaged me first, uncle.”

He can imagine the scoff his uncle just let out.

“Fine, but if he cries and asks to FaceTime you, it’s not happening.”

“Fine by me, I’m hoping I’ll be too busy to answer anyways.”

“Enjoy your date, wear protection.”

“Don’t be inappropriate, uncle. And thank you.”

With that handled, he hurries home and packs a bag for Yuji. The pink-haired boy enters the apartment with a big grin and a bag full of candy. He had a Valentine’s party in class today.

“Choso, guess what?? Megumi gave me his special present! He said he only gave it to me!” Yuji shows off a small stuffed tiger.

“Aww, that’s sweet, did you have fun?”

“Yeah! Lots and lots of fun! And I have a lottt of candy!”

“I see that. I’ll make sure it’s safe. You’re going to uncle Sukuna’s house tonight.”

“Why?” Yuji tilts his head.

“Because I have plans for Valentine’s Day.”

“Okay!”

Yuji plays with his new stuffed animal and you step into their apartment. The boy’s eyes light up and he runs to you.

“Look look! See what Megumi gave me? He gave it to only me! It’s a tiger!”

“I see, I see, Yuji. It’s amazing.” You reply and ruffle the boy’s hair.

Choso smiles and watches you two interact. Your smile is always full of kindness, so full of affection… Yuji giggles and tries to fix his disheveled hair.

“I’m going to my uncle’s tonight!” Yuji grins.

“Oh? Why’s that?” You tilt your head to Choso.

“I was planning a date for us.” Choso explains.

“Aww, how sweet! I can’t wait to see what you’ve got planned.” You smile to the ravenette.

Sukuna picks up Yuji, and you go to your apartment to dress nicely. Now Choso has another dilemma. Every restaurant he would rather take you to is reservation only tonight. Talk about bad luck. He refuses to go somewhere less than five star, so he quickly sets up his table to look like it’s ready for fine dining.

When you re-enter Choso’s apartment, you smile a bit at the gesture. “Dining in tonight?”

“Sorry, it’s last minute. But I do have some meat ready to be cooked. Anything you want. We can even try making a cake again.” Choso rubs your hips with his thumbs, a little nervous for some reason.

“Hmm, let’s share a pasta. Like that dog movie Yuji watched.”

Choso grins and prepares the pasta while you make a cake. You decide to play some music so the kitchen isn’t silent. An hour later, everything is ready. You let Choso sit you at the table and he takes the seat opposite you. You both share a large plate of pasta and a slice of cake topped with strawberries.

“I think this is nicer than any other date I’ve had for valentines. Most guys just gave me flowers and chocolates and then took me to wherever they wanted for the date.” You think out loud.

“Yeah, this is much nicer than other dates. And we haven’t really had a date since that first one. Since I’ve been busy and Yuji hasn’t really been out of our hands.”

“I haven’t even realized that much time had passed. Feels like no time passes when I’m with you.” You smile.

Choso’s heart flutters. How can you continue to be so perfect, all the time? The two of you wash dishes and the music changes to a slow dance song. Choso dries his hands and offers one to you.

“May I have this dance?”

You grin and take his hand. “You may.”

His other hand meets your waist while yours rests on his shoulder. You keep eye contact as you both sway in the kitchen, soft music filling the moonlit room. The quiet click of heels on the tile matches the beat of the song.

“Thank you for tonight, Choso. You always manage to sweep me off my feet, no matter what you do. Cooking dinner with you and sharing it is more intimate than some restaurant, and I appreciate it more.” You smile as he pulls you closer.

“I should be thanking you for agreeing to everything last minute. I honestly forgot what today was until a coworker talked about it.” He huffs out of annoyance of himself.

“Things are worth waiting for if it’s you. Last minute or not, I’m glad to spend Valentine’s with you.”

“…you’re an angel after my heart.”

“Would you let me have it?” You giggle.

“Gladly.”

You both smile and share a kiss, lips pressing and molding each other’s as if they were made to connect. He carries you to his room, ready to celebrate Valentine’s Day in a different way with you.

Happy Valentine’s Day!! ᰔᩚ

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