#will i get tired of putting her in this set? never

[watchmegetobsessed]

UNMATCHED II.

A/N: soooo you guys were just as horny for a part 2 to this story as i was so here we are, giving in to the temptation. disclaimer, i know their behavior is giving red flag energy but lets just put that aside for the sake of the story now lol

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

WARNING: sexual content, age gap, student-professor relationship

SUMMARY: Harry has been trying his best to forget what happened with Y/N, he is set on never making the same mistake, but it seems like fate has different plans for him.

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

That skirt. That goddamned skirt. That’s gonna be the death of Harry. 

And also the fact that she went back to that asshole. 

Sitting in the busy school cafeteria Harry has zoned out of the conversation at the table a long time ago, precisely when he saw Y/N stroll in wearing that short skirt with that dickhead she should have ditched already or better, she shouldn’t have even dated him in the first place. But now they are moving in the line with their group of friends and he has his hand on her waist and it keeps inching lower, just a few more inches and his hand could be slipping under her skir–

“Harry? Hello?” 

Stella catches his attention and he is forced to move his focus back to his colleagues at the table. 

“Huh? Sorry, what did you say?” He clears his throat and keeps his eyes on his half-eaten sandwich in front of him. 

“What’s up with you? You haven’t been your usual self lately.”

“Just… tired. I’m behind with my research and have a bunch of papers to grade before winter break.”

“The joys of being a teacher,” Stella chuckles. “Don’t worry, it’ll get better with time.”

“Really?”

“No,” she smirks at him. “But you’ll care less.”

She soon returns to the conversation at the table and Harry finds himself looking for Y/N again. There’s no trace of her in the line, but he is quick to spot her at a table across the dining hall, sitting beside Dickhead who has an arm around her neck, keeping her close as he wants everyone to know that they are together.

And it irks Harry way more than it probably should. 

It’s been a little over a week since Stella’s Christmas party and also that very heated and very wrong kiss he shared with Y/N. That weekend was like hell, he kept beating himself over and over about it, cursing himself out for being so stupid and reckless. He still has no idea what came over him that let him make out with a student, but he knew one thing for sure: it couldn’t happen again. 

So when Y/N walked into the classroom before his first lecture early on monday he didn’t even let her speak before he got to the point. 

“It shouldn’t have happened. I’m so sorry for it, but I can’t undo it now. I suggest let’s pretend nothing happened, it’s for the absolute best. No one can know about it and it will never happen again.”

She seemed taken aback by his outburst, but after a bit of hesitation she nodded.

“Okay. Nothing happened. It must have been the wine.”

“Yes,” he agreed right away. “We both drank more than we should have and made a mistake.”

She flinched at his last word, but didn’t protest, only nodded, holding her textbooks tighter to her chest. She looked so sad, even disappointed that Harry almost wanted to take back what he just said, but he knew he couldn’t. 

“Are you… okay?” he dared to ask, but when she looked at him again, her eyes told nothing. 

“I’m fine. I’ll see you in class, professor.”

And she was out of the classroom before he could say another word. In class she sat in the back and not even once did she look at him. He knows, because he kept looking at her. 

He’s been trying his best to get her out of his head, but with not much luck. Not when all he can think about is how soft her lips felt against his, how insanely good she tasted mixed with the coldness of the night, how amazingly she fit into his palm, the curve of her neck, back, waist and hips… and how badly he wants to experience it again even though it’s the worst possible idea. 

Harry thinks he is going insane. Genuinely. 

He’s been burying himself into work, but his focus has been all over the place, so it’s been more like a waste of time. He is one of the last ones in the building today as well. Most professors left a long time ago, but the lights in Harry’s tiny office are still on as he is hunched over a stack of papers. When he has to read over the same line for the twentieth time he drops his pen with a tired groan and leans back in his chair. He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes roughly, until he is practically seeing stars. 

“Fuck,” he huffs, staring at the papers that are still waiting to be graded. Checking the time on his phone he is surprised to see that it’s already past seven.

He stands from his chair and steps to the window. The campus looks quiet at this time, only a few students are walking towards the dorm that’s next to the literature department’s building. It’s a wednesday night, the semester ends next week so some lucky students who have no more exams left in the year have already left for the holidays. Harry will be going home right before Christmas, he plans to use those few days of the break to work on his research in peace. 

From his window he sees part of the parking lot next to the dorm, it’s quite dark there, he almost doesn’t notice the figures sitting in the car closest to him, but a few heartbeats later realization hits him.

It’s Y/N and the dickhead. 

They are pretty far, but Harry can tell that they are in a heated fight, judging from how Y/N is gesticulating. Obviously he can’t hear them, but if he had to guess he would say she is shouting, from what he can see. 

For a moment he tells him to just ignore the scene, it’s none of anyone else’s business, let alone his. But when he sees the asshole slap his hands against the wheel several times, making Y/N jump, Harry is moving before he could second guess his actions. 

He practically sprints down that stairs, already trying to figure out how he’ll interject without appearing like a creep, but he forgets all his plans when he is marching towards the parking lot and sees the scene unfold from up close. 

At some point they must have gotten out of the car, because Harry catches the dickhead getting back into the driving seat, Y/N is crying and tries to stop him from shutting the door, but he swings it with such force that she stumbles forward, holding onto the handle. When Harry sees her almost fall to the asphalt he starts running, just as the car comes to life and he drives away so fast, he almost runs over Y/N’s feet. 

“Fuck you, Charlie! Fuck you!” She screams after the car, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Harry rushes over to her, grabs her by her shoulders and turns her away from the direction of the car. “Hey, what happened?”

She is gasping for air from the crying as she wraps her arms around her, those beautiful eyes that are usually filled with curiosity are now full of confusion and hurt. 

“Y/N, look at me,” he begs and she hiccups a few times before she finally looks him in the eyes. 

“H-Harry?”

He ignores how good it feels to hear her call him by his first name again and tries to focus on the situation.

“Yeah. Let’s get inside, okay? It’s freezing cold.”

She nods and lets him steer her towards the building and up to his office. By the time she sits in the old armchair in the corner of his office she has stopped sobbing, but her expression looks just as miserable as before. 

“I’ll make you a tea. Do you like tea?” he asks, stepping over to the tiny side table where he keeps his kettle and tiny tea collection with two mugs. She nods and he is quick to turn on the kettle. He grabs a chamomile filter and drops it into one of the mugs and while the water boils he hands her a box of tissues that she accepts with a quietly murmured thank you. 

When the tea is done he hands her the mug and sits in his chair, unsure what to say. He definitely did not plan to have her in his office anytime soon and definitely not like this. 

“Go on, lecture me about being with him,” she says at last, staring into the mug in her hands. 

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“But you’d be right.” She looks up at him, eyes still red from the crying. 

“Why did you go back to him?” he softly asks, not wanting to make her feel even worse. 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, looking away again. “He could be convincing, I guess.”

“Hope you won’t believe him after this.”

“No,” she chuckles bitterly before taking a sip from the tea, leaning back in the armchair. “Not even the sex will convince me to go back to him.”

Harry’s muscles jump at her words. Not because he is such a prude, but because instantly he is thinking about sex… and her… and his body reacts involuntarily. Clearing his throat he crosses his legs and looks anywhere but at her.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she chuckles softly, but she doesn’t seem sorry at all. 

“No, I… um…” Harry has no idea what to say. This feels like such an impossible situation, he is definitely walking on eggshells here and the fact that he is semi-hard does not help his case. 

While he is looking for the right words she places her mug to his desk and crosses her legs, a curious look playing in her eyes as she is looking at him. She appears calm and confident suddenly, like she wasn’t sobbing ten minutes ago. 

“I lied,” she then speaks up.

“About what?”

“I know why I went back to him.”

“Oh. Okay, why did you?”

She holds his gaze for one… two… three seconds before her lips part, then she hesitates for one more moment before answering. 

“Because I couldn’t go to you.”

A shiver runs down his spine at her words, his body is betraying him already, but he hangs onto the last bit of his rationality.

“Y/N, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t tell the truth?”

“We agreed that we are not talking about it again.”

“I’m not talking about that night. I’m talking about how badly I’ve been wanting you, but knowing I can’t have you I went back to Charlie even though I knew I shouldn’t have.” 

“Y/N…” His mouth is dry and he feels ridiculously hot even though the heating hasn’t been working too well lately in his office. He is clawing at the arms of his chair, trying to keep the remains of his cool, though it feels like he is hanging on a thread.

“I won’t do anything about it, don’t worry. And I won’t bring it up again.” She sounds different this time, the confidence has turned into what feels like disappointment and it lurches something in Harry’s gut. 

Standing she smoothes her clothes before looking at Harry, a tiny sliver of expectancy glistening in her eyes. 

“Thanks for the tea. I better get going.”

She is already moving towards the door when Harry jumps to his feet, entirely lost about what to think, do or say. He strides after her and just when she is about to reach for the knob, he grabs her other hand, stopping her mid action. 

But he has no idea why he just did that. His rationality is screaming at him, but with each passing moment he spends holding her hand, the noise gets farther and farther away until it’s lost somewhere in the back of his mind. 

Slowly, she turns her head, eyes taking in the sight of their touching hands before her gaze meets his. He instantly stumbles back, letting go of her like she was on fire, but she doesn’t seem surprised. Instead, she turns around and just stands there, with a calm, but determined look on her face. 

“Careful professor,” she then speaks up. “I might take your actions as a hint.”

“A hint…” he breathes out, almost mesmerized with her, he is convinced she’s put a spell on him, because he can’t move or think straight, he just keeps staring at her.

“Yes, a hint,” she nods shortly. “That you want me just as much as I want you.”

He swallows down a moan that almost slips through his lips at her words. His whole body is burning for her, palms sweating and itching to touch her and he can almost taste her on his tongue again, desperate to pick up from where they left off not long ago. 

The tiniest smirk tugs on the corners of her mouth when she sees just how much he is struggling and she takes it as her queue to push her luck just a bit further. She takes a step closer to him, but still leaves some space between them, wanting him to close those last inches. 

“You know you can have me.” She cocks her head to the side, blinking up at him innocently. “Right here, on your desk or in that armchair. I want to be your good girl and take whatever you give me.”

“Stop it,” he manages to breathe out, but all his strength is gone, it sounds more like a plea rather than an order. 

“What if I don’t?” she sassily questions. “Will you punish me?”

Harry whimpers. They both know he is close to breaking and she is not stepping down now and she’s determined to push him over the edge. Slowly she reaches up, drags a finger across her lips before moving then down, tugging at her shirt at her chest, revealing more of the exposed skin there, then she starts playing with the top button, all while keeping her eyes focused on him. He sucks on his breath, his gaze keeps switching between her eyes and what her fingers are doing. 

Then it pops open, revealing the delicious swell of her breasts and a bit of the lacy bra as well and he knows he is gone. 

“Close the curtain,” he simply orders and a sudden rush of excitement washes over her as she quickly moves across the room, drawing the curtains on the window and turning around she is expecting him to be in the same spot, but to her surprise he is right there and before she could say a word, his lips crash down on hers with such force she would have fallen back if he didn’t already have an arm around her waist. 

His other hand is quick to find its way to her throat first, then to her jaw, angling her head perfectly so he can devour her. 

He spins them around and she gasps when her ass meets the edge of his desk, still kissing her he pushes forward, blindly tossing everything on the desk aside to make room, something clatters as it falls to the ground but neither of them cares to even look. His hands are on the back of her legs and he helps her up until she is sitting on top of the desk. 

She eagerly opens her thighs and circles her legs around his hips, pulling him closer and when she feels just how hard he already is, pushing against her clothed center, she can’t help but moan at the sensation. 

“It’s a one time thing,” he pants when her fingers start to work on his shirt and his hands find the button of her jeans. 

“Sure,” she breathes out smiling.

“Just to get it out of our system.”

“Of course,” she nods eagerly, and a moment later she is tugging his shirt off his shoulders. 

Buttons come undone, clothes are thrown across the room and soon enough all of his focus is on her naked chest, his hands exploring the tender, heated skin before his head dips down and his mouth meets her hardened nipples. 

“Oh fuck,” she moans, head falling back as she has an arm around his shoulders, the other one planted behind her on the desk. All while his hands are tugging down her jeans, finally giving him the chance to touch her inner thighs, exploring the warmth and softness he’s been fantasizing about for so long. 

He gently bites on one of her nipples, making her back arch, burying his face between her breasts before he leans back to get rid of her jeans. She has a moment to admire his naked torso, all the tattoos he’s been hiding under his clothes, his pants are hanging around his knees and his erection is throbbing through the fabric of his underwear. She can’t help but smile at the sight, it’s surely one she’ll remember forever.

When her jeans are discarded on the floor he plants his hands on her thighs and pushes them wide open, revealing her drenched panties. He brings his thumb over the wet fabric, lazily drags it over her clit, making her tremble under his touch. Then keeping eye contact with her he pulls his chair under him, sits down and rolls closer so his face is perfectly lined up with her. With his eyes still locked on hers, he leans forward, moves her panties to the side and places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to her throbbing clit, making her moan so loud, he digs his fingers into her thighs pulling back. 

“You need to be quiet,” he warns her and she just eagerly nods, watching him take her underwear off completely and go back to where he was a moment ago. 

Harry drinks up her taste, he licks, kisses and sucks on the right spots, making her see stars as her orgasm is building up. When she feels two of his fingers slip into her she grabs a handful of his hair, tugging on it. 

But right when she is about to tip over the edge he pulls back, leaving her in a heaving mess. Reaching into one of his drawers he grabs a condom and standing up he watches her lying on his desk, chest rapidly rising and falling while he rolls the condom on. 

To his surprise, she gets up and jumps off the desk, taking the initiative by pushing him down back into the chair and straddling his lap. His hands are quick to move to her ass as his cock wedges between her drenched folds. He hisses when she starts rolling her hips, making them both even more feral for what’s about to come. 

She leans forward and kisses him, her hand reaching down between them until it finds his cock. She gives him a few lazy strokes to which he hums lowly into her mouth. Then she stops her kisses, lips still brushing against his, eyes meeting again as she lifts herself up just enough to angle him underneath her and then slowly she eases down, letting him enter her inch by inch until she is filled entirely. She gasps at the feeling of her walls stretching around him and they both stop for a few moments, just savoring how perfectly they fit together. 

She plants both her hands to the base of his neck, kisses him again and starts moving her hips. 

“Fuck, Y/N, you feel so good,” he groans, locking his arms around her, fingers digging into her naked back and side as she starts to slowly pick up her pace, bouncing on him. 

When he starts thrusting upwards, meeting her movements, her head rolls back from how deep she feels him inside her, his tip reaching the perfect spot. 

“Yes, right there!” she gasps as he buries his head in her neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin while keeping his rhythm. “I’m so close,” she breathes out, her hands raking through his messy hair. 

Wanting even more friction she adjusts herself and then starts moving faster and rougher, aching for the release. She looks down, her eyes meet his gaze and she just knows he is as close as she is. 

“Harry,” she moans and hearing his name fall from her lips is what pushes him over the edge.

Grunting, his thrusts get rougher and fall out of their fast pace, he pushes into her over and over again as he fills the condom and watching him fall apart helps her let go as well. He feels her walls tighten around him while he is still riding out the afterwaves of his own orgasm, her mouth hangs open, nails digging into his shoulders so harshly they surely leave marks. 

Then they both slowly come off their high and she leans forward, capturing his lips in a much softer kiss than the ones they’ve shared just minutes ago. He gladly returns, their lips melt together and his fingers gently roam her naked back while he is still inside her. 

They’re quiet when she moves off him and grabs a few tissues to clean herself up while he discards the condom. The clothes are picked up from the floor one by one and a sense of unsureness settles between them as they both get dressed. 

She was the only thing on his mind just five minutes ago, but now that the sex haze is gone, his thoughts start racing. What did he do? What will happen now? This shouldn’t have happened but still, he wants to do it again and again and again. 

As if she knew he was panicking inside, she steps to him, takes his face in her hands and pulls him into a long, passionate kiss that instantly makes him forget about everything else. 

“Don’t overthink it,” she whispers against his lips. “We’re adults.”

“I’m your teacher,” he hums.

“The semester is almost over. Grade my last paper and we’re done,” she simply says with very little care about his current status. But he is not that sold on it just yet, hesitation and worry is all over his face. “Did you not want it?”

“You know how much I wanted it,” he admits defeatedly. 

“Great. I wanted it too. And I want it again. So I’ll come by tomorrow again. You’ll bend me over that desk after I had your cock in my mouth, then tell me what grade I’m getting for the semester and we do it again after that.”

He is already feeling himself getting hard again. Deep down he knows he should say no, but he has no will left to fight with himself anymore. So all he does is nod and then kiss her. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, professor.” She grabs her coat from the floor and then walks out of his office like nothing happened. 

Harry falls into his chair and assesses the mess on and around his desk, staring at the spot where she was sitting not long ago. He knows he is making his biggest mistake ever, but sinning has never felt this good.

And right now he is willing to take this risk.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[lomlhwa]

scandal (l.c)

pairing: idol!reader x idol!chan

preview: you got into a dating scandal with another idol and chan is not happy. it should've been him, he's your actual boyfriend after all.

tags/warnings: fem reader, mentions of beomgyu and other idols, possessive chan, kisses galore, pet names (pretty, baby, my love, angel), oral (fem.receiving), holding hands while fucking, so much praise, monster cock chan, marking, did i say possessive?, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.8k

song rec for this fic: obsession by exo

a/n: i tried making fake tweets + texts for this how did i do? also i just threw in random female idols to make a fake group lol

you sigh, putting your phone down and rubbing your temples. dating as an idol is so tiring and sometimes you honestly forget why you even try. but you love your boyfriend so much. beomgyu is your good friend and sometimes you fail to remember to be sneaky when hanging out. even small things like going out to eat together makes fans assume you’re madly in love. this isn’t the first time you’ve been roped into media with beomgyu and you’re certain it won’t be the last. 

with your swift rise to fame, you’ve had many dating scandals in your time. what pisses chan off the most is the fact that it’s never been him that you’ve had a scandal with. you’ve gone out on many public dates before and no one has ever picked up on the fact that you’re together. he even kissed you in the view of a sasaeng one time and they didn’t notice. he wonders if it’s intentional on the media’s part or if they’re seriously just that oblivious. 

you run your hand through your hair, trying to fathom why the general public knowing about your relationship is so important to him. everyone within the industry knows so why does everyone else have to? relationships can ruin idol reputations and he doesn’t seem to care. maybe it’s because you’re both already so big that he’s not worried? or he’s hoping your fans are just accepting enough to be okay with it? 

your members come wandering into the living room and you’re quick to compose yourself. you don’t want them to know you’re having relationship problems again. “you okay, y/n?” minji asks you, concern spreading on her face. you nod and smile to the best of your abilities. “hmm, i don’t believe you but we have schedules so i’m not gonna push,” karina shakes her head before gesturing for you to follow the group out the door. you gather your things and do your best not to think about anything but the late night ahead of you. 

___________________________________________

after a late night at dance practice you finally get the time to check your phone. you know chan had a fansign today so you decide to check on some of his fan accounts. you smile as you’re met with cute photos of him posing with gifts from fans. you find lots of updates on things he said as well. his current favorite movies, foods, tv shows and… songs. of course he mentions you. it’s cute that he listens to your music and likes to promote you to fans. 

you jump as you realize sana is perched over your shoulder, reading your text messages. “he’s gonna get in trouble when people realize he keeps talking about you,” she comments, clicking her tongue. you sigh dramatically, slouching your shoulders. “that’s what he wants.” suddenly all your members are gathered around you, confused as to what you’re talking about. “i got into another scandal with beomgyu and chan is jealous that it’s not him. so he’s putting in extra effort to try and get people to assume things.” your members share a weird look between them before turning back to you. “i think you should go on the most public date ever and make sure everyone knows you’re with lee chan of seventeen,” lily smiles brightly at you. this comment shocks you a little but you agree. 

“will you guys help me set up a giant celebration at the restaurant under our dorm?” you ask and they all agree excitedly. you all rush to get back to your dorm, eager to plan an extravagant dinner for you and your boyfriend. you talk to the owners of the restaurant and they agree to vacate the restaurant for you. they even promise to make food on the house. your girls help you pick the perfect outfit, hair and makeup for the event. they even “accidentally” tell a well known media outlet that you have plans for tomorrow and they should be there. 

___________________________________________

you sit in eager anticipation waiting for your boyfriend to show up. you can see a photographer out of the corner of your eye, waiting for something to happen. you hear the backdoor open and chan walks in, confidence filling his every step. your eyes fall on the suit he chose for tonight. he left his blazer undone, showing off that the buttons resting on his chest were begging to burst open. 

“hello, my love,” he says as he pecks your cheek before sitting down across from you. “what’s the occasion for such a fancy dinner?” his face changes to panic for a moment before he speaks again; “did i miss our anniversary? your birthday?” you shake your head and chuckle just as a waitress comes scurrying out of the kitchen with pre prepared food. you thank her and shoot her a quick wink before turning back to your lover. chan looks at you with an unreadable expression, but you hope it’s positive.

the two of you eat your food happily, the atmosphere feeling very comfortable. your share anecdotes from your lives as idols, laughing that the ridiculousness of your respective companies. before long, your meal is coming to an end. chan gives you a look you know all too well and you’re quick to scurry away, up the stairs and to your dorm. your boyfriend follows swiftly behind you after thanking all the staff. 

you thank your members mentally as you enter your normally occupied dorm. as soon as the door is closed, chan’s hands are on you. he drags you by your hips, crashing you against him. he kisses you with such aggression that you would think he was trying to eat you. your tongues tangle like snakes, drool spilling from the corner of your mouth. “fuck, baby. you’re so sexy, you know that?” he connects his lips to your jawline, sucking on your skin gently. he sucks dark red marks on your collar bones, taking a moment to lean back and admire his work. 

“jump,” he mutters as he hooks his hands under your thighs. you hop and he catches you before quickly scurrying towards your room. he lays you down on your bed, pressing your legs wide open. he groans as he realizes you aren’t wearing any panties. you bite your lip as he admires you. “stop fucking me with your eyes and fuck me for real,” you demand. chan drops to his knees in front of you, desperation filling his eyes. you lift yourself onto your elbows so you can see him better. he kisses his way up your thighs before meeting his lips with your drenched core. 

his skilled tongue darts out to circle your clit, small whines escaping from your throat. he grips your thighs, holding you exactly where he wants you. he slurps and drinks you up as you twitch and squirm under him. he focuses his attention on your sensitive clit, rubbing his tongue back and forth over it. “channie, please please ple-ah,” he silences you with a harsh smack to your inner thigh. “let me enjoy your cunt. god, i love that you’re mine,” he presses kisses against your slit, licking a fat stripe up it to follow. “fucking mine.”

he grazes his teeth over your clit, drinking in the way you squeak and raise your hips towards his mouth. your hands fly to his hair and drag his mouth back to you. he chuckles before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it before letting it go with a small ‘pop.’ you grind your core against his face, his nose brushing your clit as you get more and more desperate for release. “you have the most perfect pussy, baby. could eat you forever.”

a low moan slips from his lips as he watches you clench around nothing at his words. he places one final kiss to your core before rising off his knees. “you’re so tasty, angel. but i think i might explode if i don’t get inside you.” he reaches down to undo his pants and let them pool around his ankles. he aligns himself with your desperate hole before pressing in gently. “my pretty, pretty girl.” he grabs your hands and intertwines all ten of your fingers with his. a gesture like this always felt so romantic to you. 

he arms flex in reaction as you clench around him in an eager effort to get him to move. he draws his hips back slowly before returning himself to the hilt. your eyes cross and your back arches off the bed as he repeats this ritual over and over before he can’t take the slow pace anymore. he tightens his grip on your hands as he speeds up, the sounds of skin slapping filling the room. he stares between the two of you, watching as he disappears and reappears between your legs.”fuck, baby. you’re all mine. i don’t care what the media says. i’m the one fucking you. not beomgyu, me.” you nod your head, panting like a dog in the summer heat. “say it. who does this pussy belong to?” he thrusts into you faster, as if to make it harder for you to answer. “y-you, chan. fuck, it’s all yours.”

he lets go of your hands and opts to wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his face into your chest. he ruts into you with such vigor you think you might snap in half. he lifts you partially off the bed so you’re kind of sitting in his lap. your grind down on him, desperate for more. “channie… god, need it so bad,” you plead, your orgasm threatening to rip its way out of you. he runs his tongue between the valley of your breasts before pulling back to look at your face.

“keep eye contact with me while you finish. let me see how fucking good i make you feel.” you nod, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as he connects the pad of his thumb to your clit. you let out a deep sigh and fight your hardest not to throw your head back. the way chan looks at you through his sweaty bangs has you seeing stars. “cumming. oh my god i’m cumming,” you cry out as your whole body spasms. “yeah, that’s it baby. squeeze my cock like that.” your arms give out and you fall back onto the bed, gripping the sheets until your knuckles turn white. 

your lover’s orgasm is quick to follow, ropes of cum painting your walls white. he moans and whines out your name like a hymn, gripping your waist so hard you might bruise. you twitch as he rides out the last of his high before stilling completely. he pulls out of you slowly before laying next to you. he pulls you tightly against him, panting slightly as he settles. “i promise i don’t care what the media says. i love you."

___________________________________________

© lomlhwa 2024

[myth1cs]

That one back Tattoo (Son Chaeyoung x M!Reader)

I swear I'm working on that F!Reader fic. This is smut ... Sorry? (Should I still bother apologizing or...) Word Count: 2,088

Sitting at the bar with my girlfriend Dahyun was something that always made me happy.

"Y/N you're so silly sometimes!"

Dahyun was drunk enough to the point that anything was funny to her. I should have cut her off sooner but seeing her like this was just so cute. "Come on Dahyun lets go home."

"I don't want to go yet Y/N-yah! Can I get another shot?" I giggled at her question. "Come on Dahyun I think you've had a bit too much to drink." I had to pick up Dahyun and carry her back to our apartment. She showed little protest by lightly hitting me on my chest.

"I don't want to leave yet Y/N!"

Having to put up with a drunk Dahyun's protest was something I got used to after a few nights out. Luckily her sleepiness eventually got the best of her and she was sleeping in my arms.

Arriving back at the hotel I went in the elevator to get to our apartment on the third floor. But before the door closed another woman entered the elevator with us.

She was a rather short woman. Her clothes didn't leave much to the imagination. She was showing a lot of ski-

"Are you going to press the button or should I?"

I was quickly pulled out of my thoughts. Must've been staring for too long. "O-oh r-right you can press it first." She nodded at me and clicked on the button for the third floor. "What a coincidence we're on the same floor."

"Really? Well what are the chances of that? You know some people don't think things happen by "coincidence" do you?"

A rather odd question to ask but I guess I'll entertain her thought process. "Well I think some things are meant to happen but I don't think that everything that happens in our life is set by the universe or whatever."

"By the way who's that girl you're carrying."

"She's my girlfriend."

She hummed at my response and the elevator door opened. "Well if you'd like to discuss further you can come to my room at 308."

"Room 308? That's right next to my room 307!" Seriously? What are the chances my and this girl I just met are neighbors?

"Well who knows maybe it's a sign from the universe. By the way I never got your name."

"It's Y/N, and yours?"

"You can call me Chaeyoung. Anyways you better get going carrying your girlfriend must be tiring."

Once she said that she left for her room and I went into my apartment. When I got in I placed Dahyun on the couch and covered her up with a blanket.

I wasn't able to get Chaeyoung out of my mind. She was so attractive her tattoos, small figure, and those lips of hers were such a turn on. No wait what am I thinking?! Dahyun is my girlfriend I shouldn't be thinking of other women like this.

Feeling my cock get hard I went to the bathroom in order to relieve myself. Pulling down my pants and grabbing a hold of my cock I started to work on relieving myself. "Ugh ~ ah ~ Chaeyoung you're such a damn bad influence. You're making me have thoughts of cheating on my girlfriend because of you!"

Eventually I was able to cum and quickly started to work on cleaning up the mess I had just made.

-

I've been avoiding Chaeyoung for the past few days. Seeing her makes me think of inappropriate thoughts. I can't help but think how warm her pussy must feel. I bet she could suck my dick so well. Agh! Damn it why am I thinking of it again.

I suddenly bumped into someone.

"Shit sorry my bad I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Y/N is that you?"

Looking at the person I bumped into I realized it was Chaeyoung. Shit

"Oh sorry Chaeyoung I have to go-"

Suddenly she grabbed my arm and turned me around so I was facing her. My face was getting warmer and I can only hope she didn't notice.

"Hold on Y/N what's the rush? And why have you been ignoring me for the past few days?"

"Chaeyoung it's complicated."

"Want to talk about it?"

I shouldn't do it. Everything points to me not agreeing with her. I have a loving girlfriend already. No I can't say yes I can't!

But before I could even answer Chaeyoung started to drag me along with her. I wasn't able to get any words out so I just went along with her for the time.

Eventually we arrived at the front of her apartment. She grabbed her keys and unlocked the door. Her room was mostly similar to the one me and Dahyun had except her room was a bit more bare than ours.

She dragged me to her couch and sat me down. Chaeyoung sat next to me and crossed her arms.

"Y/N I don't understand why you've been ignoring me. If you didn't like our first interaction and didn't want to talk to me that's one thing but I feel as if you're purposely going out of your way to ignore me!"

I looked at Chaeyoung in the eyes. Should I tell her? No that's stupid and would be pretty awkward. What would I even say "Yeah the reason I've been ignoring you is because I just get thoughts of cheating on my girlfriend with you."

"I just thought you were a little weird. I didn't want to associate myself with you." A bit rude but I needed Chaeyoung to also get away from me. If she also starts to distance herself from me it would make my life way easier.

"That's a bit rude Y/N. But thank you for telling me even if it does hurt my feelings."

"Yeah, sorry Chaeyoung."

I got up to leave her apartment as silence fell between us. But before I could go she suddenly spoke up.

"Wait before you leave do you at least want to have lunch with me?"

I guess I owe her one. I mean I did say something quite rude to her just now I could at least make up for it by staying over for lunch.

"Sure"

Chaeyoung nodded and got up to go to the kitchen. I couldn't help but stare at her butt as she walked there.

"Do you have any preferences or allergies you want me to be aware of Y/N?"

"No, anything's fine."

She started to cook up something. I sat in silence as I watched her cook. While Chaeyoung was cooking she bent over making her shirt slide up.

I saw her exposed back which had a tattoo. Something about it was interesting to me.

"Why did you get that back tattoo Chaeyoung?"

"Found it interesting. Why, you want to get a closer look Y/N?" She gave me a certain look. If I didn't know any better I would say she's trying to tease me.

My face started to warm up. "Uhm ... kinda."

Chaeyoung started to walk up to me. Her hips swayed in a rhythm that kept me hooked.

She sat down on the couch with her back facing me. She took off her shirt exposing her bra. "Go on Y/N inspect the tattoo to your hearts content."

I felt my whole body get warm.

I put my finger on her back tattoo,I traced the outline. It was quite an interesting design. "What's it called?"

"The birth of evil. You know Y/N I have more tattoos but I'd have to strip for you to see them."

"Well what's stopping you?" I asked more as a joke.

"Absolutely nothing." Chaeyoung turned around facing me before she started stripping off her remaining pieces of clothing. Her body was more attractive than I originally thought. I couldn't focus on her tattoos and was only able to focus on her body.

"Y/N my tattoos aren't on my chest."

"I - uhm - agh." I tried coming up with an excuse but I wasn't able to think of one. My cock was starting to get hard and I tried to quickly hide it before Chaeyoung noticed.

Suddenly she put her hands over mine. "Mmm Y/N I heard you moaning my name the night we met. I'm telling you our meeting was fate."

Chaeyoung grabbed my hand covering my extremely hard cock and removed ir. She let out a coo "It's so big. I wonder how it'll look when it's free."

I started to panic as she started to pull my pants down. I shouldn't even be here when I have Dahyun. But a part of me wants this moment to never end.

My cock sprung out of its constraints and Chaeyoung licked her lips. "My my Y/N a bit eager to cheat on your girlfriend aren't you?" I wasn't able to form words because I knew she was right. I really wanted her.

"Go ahead and kiss me you little play boy."

I latched my lips onto Chaeyoung's perfect lips. They were so soft and perfect for me. Chaeyoung took my shirt off and moved her hands to my chest and pinched my nipples.

"Ouch Chaeng that hurt." I muffled into her lips. Though she didn't listen and only pinched harder.

She started to rub her hands all over my body. "Ah! Ah! Your hands are so perfect!"

I took my lips off of hers and started to move them down to her small breasts. They were a little bit bigger than Dahyun's but not by much. I put my tongue on her nipple and swirled it around and used my other hand to squeeze her other tit.

Chaeyoung moved her hands down to my cock and swirled her thumb on the tip. Some cum started to leak out and it helped her pick up the pace.

"Oh Chaeng your so damn good at this."

"Am I better than your girlfriend?"

Me and Dahyun have never had sex before and I didn't want to admit that I was still a virgin to her.

"Uhm - you're getting there."

Chaeyoung smiled at me "Judging by your long pause I'm guessing you're a virgin. Don't worry I'll be gentle."

She pushed me onto my back and put her mouth around my cock. "Mhm it tastes good. Virgins cocks always taste the best." I felt myself losing control over her words. She was slowly swirling her tongue on my tip and sucked really gently.

I used my hands to push her head down and Chaeyoung took my full length. "Yes just like that Chaeyoung." My cock hit the back of her throat and her muscles tightened around it.

Her saliva coated my whole cock. I started to push her head up and down on my cock roughly. Tears fell down Chaeyoung's eyes as she face fucked me.

Pulling her off my cock she started gasping for air. "Chaeyoung I want to feel your tight pussy on my cock."

"Y/N ... you're so horney! Is your girlfriend that pathetic?"

"Dahyun has never wanted to have sex with me."

"Poor baby Y/N. You deserve to release all of your cum." Chaeyoung got up and aligned her pussy to my cock. She lowered herself engulfing it all in her small tight pussy.

"You're so damn tight Chaeyoung!"

"Now Y/N let me show you what your girlfriend has been depriving you of." Chaeyoung started moving up and down. Her fluids were now all over my cock. I reached for her small and soft butt and started to give them a light squeeze.

Chaeyoung yelped at my sudden movement but went along with it. I started to squeeze harder leaving red marks on her butt. "I'm going to cum inside of you!"

"Yes Y/N fill me up with your thick semen!"

I spanked her ass hard and unloaded a long thick stream of cum inside of her. Chaeyoung's eyes started rolling back. "It's so warm Y/N!"

After 10 seconds the stream stopped and Chaeyoung collapsed on the couch. "Y/N do you believe me now? Our meeting was fate."

"I believe you Chaeng. But we have to keep this under wraps I don't want Dahyun to find out about us."

"Fine by me Y/N my lips are sealed. Just make sure to come visit me every now and then."

I collapsed on her and hugged her naked body and we both fell asleep.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I don't know if people prefer 1st or 3rd person writing so I'll just alternate between the both of them.

Anyways enjoy Chaeyoung, I'm facing delays so I don't think I'll have something up anytime soon but I'll try to finish the Thanksgiving smut on time.

[sweettoothy]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃

╰ SHOW ﹕ ARCANE !

︵ WARNING(S) ��╰ swearing ⸝ violence ﹕ sex

︵ relationship ﹕ Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn

NOTE: short chapter ? (If you guys have any questions head to my inbox ^^, and I all know we wanna see a sex scene where they’re bumping against each others clits, and scissoring, It’ll happen soon trust me)

⟣・S2・WATCH IT ALL BURN︰

YOU WALK INTO a pretty battered up place, a hand on your hip as you walked next to caitlyn. you were still a little injured from yesterday but that’s okay, the green smoke was clouding your goggles that were attached to your face, causing a frustrated sigh to escape you. the rest of the enforcers including you, were searching for jinx after the incident that had happened.

It wasn’t just an incident, it was a pretty big one, cause caitlyn’s mom got caught in the crossfire. least to say it wasn’t surprising that caitlyn was on the verge of losing it, but she was holding her composure the best she could.

Not to mention you getting hurt was one of her biggest regrets, she wish she could’ve protected you more— but things happen.

Vi checks over her shoulder from time to time to make sure you’re alright, she doesn’t want you getting caught in her sister’s bullshit. It was pretty scary being here, if you were truthful.

You never met jinx but you’ve heard so many good and bad things about her. Honestly, none of it seemed to make sense anymore. She just sounded like a broken person overall, someone who just needed help.

Jinx was hiding somewhere near the ceiling, she could see you, caitlyn, and vi. her pink colored eyes landing on you as she raised her gun slightly, she wondered what it would be like if vi were to lose the most precious thing she’s had in her life— due to being in jail for long 7 years.

You and caitlyn really switched vi’s life around, even though right now she didn’t like having to be an enforcer. But if it was to stop her sister? It was the right thing to do, it has to stop at some point.

Jinx hand starts to shake as tears prick her eyes, she leans back and hides behind a wall— not bothering to take the shot.

She’s just hated what her sisters become, so lovestruck on you and out to get her— it wasn’t fair.

You flinch slightly when music suddenly comes on, making you step back quickly.

“It’s okay, (name).” Maddie tells you, placing her hand on your shoulder. “No one’s there.”

Caitlyn’s eye twitched when she saw the way maddie had placed her hand on your shoulder, her lips upturning into a frown as she grew a little annoyed— maddie always used the sweet act with you just to get close.

And it pissed off vi and cait.

YOU HAD TO take a minute to catch your breath as you leaned against the wall, collapsing to your knees as you lift up your top underneath your shirt, the gash still there from the time you had gotten injured after the explosion. Vi and caitlyn make their way towards you, their expressions full of worry and concern.

“Are you okay, love?” Caitlyn asks as she kneels to your level, the height difference between you three very visible. Cait being taller than vi and vi being taller than you. that was so cute.

Vi tucks some of your hair behind your ear as she rubs her thumb over your cheek, “we can take you back. you didn’t have to come with us.” she tells you, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

“No, no,” You reply. “I want to help. I’m tired of lying in bed doing nothing.”

Caitlyn knows it wasn’t the best time to be taking at look at your boobs but they were so round and pretty she just wanted to put her hand over it and squeeze them in her possession. If only her thoughts weren’t so vivid right now, she probably would be dead set on getting revenge on jinx which—of course—she still is.

Vi reaches to grab the curvy part of your waist, her hand easily squeezing there gently. “Okay. but if you feel sick let us know.”

“I’m okay, guys, seriously.” You tell them, “I can handle myself.”

“If you’re sure.” Caitlyn replies, trying to keep her dirty thoughts away.

If they were out of sight, they’d be out of mind. right?

Wrong!

Vi couldn’t help but take a look at your chest again, oh this felt so wrong and disrespectful but it felt so good at the same time. when she first met you, she already knew she would take a liking to you.

The thought of being between your legs right now and wanting to hear you whimper was not what she had in mind but she wanted it to happen, she craved it to happen.

Standing up you dust yourself off, “okay-- let’s go get the others. I think I know a route.”

“After you sweets.” Vi replies softly, dusting herself off.

Caitlyn stood up as well, vi taking a long look at your ass before quickly adverting her gaze.

They do not know how long they’re gonna last.

END OF CHAPTER TWO

[ode-to-fury]

Other Plans for the Evening

Pairing: Lucanis x Rook

Summary: Scene after the Illario fight, but the way I would have written it. It's not that deep or different, but I think it's better. My Rook but mostly I wasn't specific.

Disclaimer: Whoo first Lucanis fic! I'm still trying to find the DA companions' voices so you might have to bear with me a little bit. This has been in my brain since the MOMENT he said "I have other plans for the evening". I tried to make him that weird mix of awkward and smooth so lmk if I did that or if I need to work on it. Might come back and edit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You came back here just for coffee?"

Rook's voice startled him out of his thoughts.

When he looked up at her, his heart gave a lurch, the same lurch it had given every other time he'd laid eyes on her.

Her hair was damp and sligtly wavy from her bath, still, and she wore leather trousers and a shirt. It was difficult to see in the dim firelight, but he knew the blue of the shirt would be reflected in her eyes, twinkling above the bemused grin she was giving him.

"What, the stuff in that gigantic villa wasn't good enough for you?"

She folded her arms across her chest, eyebrows raised and dimples clearly visible as she grinned down at him. Mercifully, Spite was being quiet for once. He idly wondered if demons ever got tired, or overwhelmed after a long day. Something to ask Emmrich about, perhaps.

"It's better if I make it myself," he said, not quite managing to smile back at her, despite the lightness that smile brought to his chest.

"And besides, I wanted some quiet."

He hated that her smile melted slightly, her shoulders tightening ever so slightly. He doubted anyone else would have noticed, but he did.

"So," she said, "First Talon?"

"First Talon," he said, and if he was honest with himself, it did not fit right in his mouth.

"I still cannot believe Caterina did that."

Lucanis is the new First Talon. His decision stands.

The corner of her mouth lifted slightly, but her fingers tensed where they rested on her arm.

"Does that mean you're leaving?"

Ah.

He almost grinned.

"No," he said simply. "We have a contract. Besides, Caterina might have named me First Talon, but there's no stopping her from giving all the orders."

This time her smile was wider, and she tilted her head to the side so her hair shifted, glinting golden in the firelight. He ached to run his fingers through it.

"You know," she said, her eyes twinkling with laughter again, "You could have said, 'Of course not. I would never leave with you still here.'

Her Antivan accent was good. Too good. It made his chest feel tight whenever she pretended to be him. He grinned back at her despite himself.

"I would never leave with you still here," he said. "You'll have me for as long as I can put off the Crows."

He saw her brow furrow slightly, but she hid it quickly.

Before he could let his nerves interfere, he stood up, setting his half empty cup down on the table as he did.

"I may have had another reason for leaving the party early," he said, letting his voice drop slightly. He saw her eyes narrow, but then she gave him a crooked grin.

"Besides coffee, you mean?"

He walked past her, to the open space between the dining table and the door, and held out his hand to her.

"Dance with me," he said softly.

It was the first time he'd seen her truly taken aback. To his delight, her mouth even dropped slightly open.

"Dance with you?" She asked, as if he'd just asked her to jump into the Fade.

"What?" He asked.

"There's no music. Also, I told you," she said, shoulders tensing again, "I'm a terrible dancer."

She had. Technically she'd told all of them.

You'd have to get me drunk first, I'm afraid, it's mortifying otherwise. I got told I have about four left feet.

"You did," he said, still holding out his hand. "But you also said you loved to dance."

She tilted her head to the side, almost pleading.

"It's only me," he said softly.

"That's what's worrying me," she said, almost too quiet for him to hear, and he remembered that this was as new to her as it was to him.

What would a first kiss taste like?

Like hope.

She held back for a moment longer, then hesitantly, she placed her fingers in his hand.

They were warm, and her callouses scraped against his own as she allowed him to pull her close to him. His heart thumped in his chest, as if it was trying to get to her.

"I don't know how to do this," she said, and he knew she wasn't only talking about the dancing.

"Like this," he said, curling his left hand around her right, and placing the other one on his shoulder.

"Your elbow has to stay up," he said seriously, lifting said elbow so it was almost in line with her shoulder before dropping his hand to her waist. "Caterina would smack me with a cane if I got it wrong."

"If you try and smack me with a cane..." she started, leaving the threat unfinished.

"I couldn't find one," he said. She tried to hide a grin, but her dimples gave her away, and suddenly those hours with Caterina and her cane seemed worth it to him.

"Now," he said, "step back with your right foot."

She did, looking at her feet, and he followed, relishing the warmth of her hand on his shoulder, the way his hand fit perfectly on her waist.

"Back and to the left with the other."

She did so, and he followed.

"Now bring your feet together, and do the same with the other foot."

They went slowly, and he enjoyed watching the crease between her eyebrows as she concentrated.

Gently, he let go of her waist so he could tilt her face up to his own.

"You should look your partner in the eyes," he said, aware that his voice had dropped lower, but not really caring, "Not where you are going to step."

"And if I step wrong?" She asked, her voice slightly breathy. It felt like soft fingers tracing their way down his spine.

"Trust me to guide you," he replied, his hand going back to her waist.

The corner of her mouth curled up ever so slightly.

"Alright," she said. "I trust you."

As they moved slowly through the room, the firelight caught her eyes and hair, gilding her in gold and taking his breath from him. In fact, breathing felt suddenly like a very big effort.

"What is it?" She asked quietly, almost as if she was scared he would run if she spoke too loudly. He wasn't too certain he wouldn't.

"You are so beautiful," he said, before he could think about it too much, though his voice was markedly less smooth than it had been.

Her eyes, her beautiful, sparkling eyes, widened slightly.

"Really?" She asked.

"Would I ever lie to you?"

She smiled. It was small and soft this time.

"No one's ever called me that before," she whispered.

"Good," he managed to whisper back. "I would have to kill them."

And she laughed. By the blood of the Maker, she laughed and every terrible moment up until just then seemed as though it had a purpose.

"There's that smile," he said, when her laughter died down.

"Yours too," she replied, still grinning happily at him.

"Thank you, Rook," he found himself saying.

"You don't need to thank me."

She leaned in slightly, mischief in her eyes.

"For you, it's on the house."

His stomach tightened slightly when she did the accent, but he tried his best to ignore it.

"Did Illario hurt you?" He asked. "I'll skin him if he did."

She touched the scratch on her neck from Illario's, thankfully unpoisoned, blade.

"A scratch," she said dissmissively. "He hurt my pride more than anything else."

They moved for a few seconds in silence while he waited for her to ask the obvious next question.

"Do you regret..."

"Giving him a chance?"

He'd been thinking about it since they had left Villa Dellamorte.

Didn't you tell me he was basically your brother and your closest childhood friend?

"No," he said. "You were right. He's family."

Family. The word tasted sour in his mouth.

"I didn't even suspect him," he said. "When the Venatori caught me on the boat in Tevinter, it never even crossed my mind."

Almost without meaning to, he brought her right hand to his heart, his fingers tightening over hers. She lay her head on his shoulder as he pulled her closer, a solid weight against him. A comfort, for the first time in his life.

"He's better than I thought," he said, absently resting his cheek against her head. Her hair smelled of lightning, and a faint, almost unnoticeable trace of honey. "Maybe there is hope for him yet."

She snorted a soft laugh through her nose, making him grin. It vanished quickly, though.

"But this wasn't a mercy. Being watched by all the Crows, with their knives out? He will never live down being the Traitor Crow, brought down in front of everyone. There is nowhere he can run."

"I was surprised you listened to me," she said. He felt her breath tickle his neck, involuntarily clutched her closer against him.

"So was I," he said. "But... I don't have a lot to lose. What there is... Caterina, this team... you, even my idiot cousin. I'm not giving that up."

She stopped moving, lifting her head up to look at him. She wore the softest smile he'd ever seen on her face.

"What's that look?"

"You have a big heart," she said softly, "For an assassin."

He tried to look away at the tone of her voice, at the emotion in it, but she gently turned his face toward her again.

"That's not a bad thing," she said.

"If it brought me here," he said, taking her hand again and kissing it on a whim, "To this moment with you, then it cannot be a bad thing. I just... I cannot believe he would do all of this, only to be First Talon."

She frowned up at him.

"He said you didn't want to be First Talon."

"I don't. But how am I supposed to trust him with it now? How is anyone? The funny thing is, he might have finally proven he has the abillity for it."

"Right before getting humilliated in front of everyone," she said, grinning slightly.

"Exactly."

He sighed, though it came out as more of a frustrated growl.

"Fucking Illario."

"Hey," she said, gently reaching up and smoothing out the crease between his brows. The gesture made his chest ache.

"We'll work it out," she said softly. "Together. But for now... "

He took her hand again, holding it to his chest so she could feel his heartbeat.

"Just be here with me," she said. "Just for a little while."

"I can do that," he said. "For a little while."

She smiled, and he could see the day was starting to get to her, the tiredness starting to reach her eyes.

"Rook..." he started, not sure what he was going to say, but needing to say something before his chest caved in on itsself. She cut him off before he could.

"Shhhh," she said gently, kissing him for a long moment before laying her head back on his shoulder. He forgot, sometimes, that he could kiss her. Usually, Spite was there to remind him, with enthusiasm. It scared him, how much he ached to feel her lips against his own.

"Don't ruin it."

So he held her close, and kissed her forehead, and later he let her fall asleep on his lap in the chair, savouring the way she held on to his hand even in sleep, and finally letting his fingers run through her hair, softer than silk against his skin.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Possession: a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley x Jimmy Uso fanfic.

Chapter 8: Elevated

Thursday, December 5th, 2024 8:39 PM

Jey pulled up to the curb outside the airport, the headlights cutting through the cool night air. Rhea glanced at him as he put the car in park, his expression softer than it had been in days. As much as their week had been tense, this moment felt like a small reprieve.

Jey turned to her, a hint of guilt in his voice. “Baby, I feel way better now that you’re gonna be rooming with Joe instead of Jon,” he said, his hand resting on hers. “I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass all week. When you come back, I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

Rhea smiled, her heart tugging in different directions. “I love you, babe,” she replied, leaning in to kiss him.

The kiss lingered, bittersweet, and when they pulled apart, Rhea grabbed her luggage from the backseat. Jey stepped out of the car to help her, his arm brushing against hers as he hoisted the bag onto the curb.

“Text me when you land,” he said, his voice low but warm.

“I will,” she promised, adjusting the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

She turned toward the terminal and spotted Joe waiting a few yards ahead, his hood pulled up and sunglasses shielding his face. Always incognito, he gave her a subtle nod as she approached.

Rhea waved back briefly before glancing over her shoulder at Jey one last time. He stood by the car, watching her with a faint smile, and she felt a pang of guilt twist in her chest.

With a final wave, she joined Joe, her luggage rolling beside her.

“Ready?” Joe asked quietly, his deep voice steady.

“Yeah,” she said, stealing one more glance behind her before they stepped inside the bustling terminal.

The check-in process was uneventful, Joe expertly navigating the crowds with his usual calm demeanor. Rhea stayed close, her thoughts buzzing as she clutched her boarding pass.

As they waited for security clearance, Joe leaned in slightly. “You good?”

Rhea nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Joe studied her for a moment but didn’t press further. He simply gestured for her to follow as they moved through the checkpoint.

The weight of the week—and the secrets she carried—settled on her shoulders as she walked beside him, the noise of the airport dull in her ears. She didn’t know what the weekend would bring, but she was determined to keep everything in check.

For now, she just needed to focus on the task at hand: getting through the next few days without letting the cracks in her life show.

—

After what felt like an eternity, the plane touched down in Minneapolis, its tires skimming the runway as the city lights flickered in the distance. Joe and Rhea moved swiftly through the terminal, their bags in tow and their demeanor guarded. They kept their distance from prying eyes, slipping into the waiting black SUV at the curb like seasoned professionals.

The ride to the Four Seasons was mostly quiet. Joe leaned back in his seat, scrolling on his phone, while Rhea watched the city blur by through the tinted windows. Her mind was restless, a mix of excitement and guilt swirling within her.

When they arrived, the doorman greeted them warmly, but Joe waved him off with a subtle nod, leading Rhea inside. The lobby was grand, its high ceilings and chandeliers oozing luxury. Joe checked them in, handling everything with ease while Rhea stood by, feeling slightly out of place.

They took the elevator up to their floor, the quiet hum of the ride filling the space between them. When the doors opened, Joe gestured for Rhea to step out first. He unlocked the suite and pushed the door open, revealing a space that was nothing short of extravagant.

Rhea’s jaw dropped. The suite was massive, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The decor was modern and elegant, a stark contrast to the no-frills motels she and Jey often stayed in.

Joe chuckled as he set his bag down. “You’ve never seen a suite before?”

Rhea shook her head, still in awe. “Jey always wanted to save money, so we’d get the cheapest rooms,” she said, running her fingers along the plush couch.

Joe smirked. “That does sound like Jey. Well, you’re not slumming it this weekend. You can take the room on the right; I’ll take the one on the left.”

Rhea nodded and grabbed her bag, heading to her designated room. She opened the door and found herself in another gorgeous space, complete with a king-sized bed, a sitting area, and an en suite bathroom that looked like it belonged in a five-star spa.

Closing the door behind her, she set her suitcase on the bed and began unpacking. Her fingers brushed against her ring gear for Monday, and she pulled it out, laying it across the bedspread. The black leather, studded one-piece was edgy and bold, paired with fishnet stockings and thigh chokers to accentuate her curves. It was a perfect reflection of her “Mami” persona, confident and unapologetically dominant.

Next, she pulled out her outfit for the following day. It was one of WWE’s newest shirts, featuring a graphic of Jimmy with the words Samoan Heat emblazoned across it. She paired it with black jeans and her signature black boots.

Rhea stared at the shirt for a moment, her stomach tightening. She hadn’t let Jey see it when the company mailed it to her. She knew anything involving Jimmy was a trigger for him, and she didn’t want to deal with the inevitable tension. Still, the shirt was striking, and part of her looked forward to wearing it.

With her clothes neatly hung and folded, Rhea sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the city lights through the window. Her mind drifted back to Jey, to Jimmy, to the tangled web she was caught in. She exhaled deeply, trying to push the thoughts aside.

—

Jimmy checked into his room at the Four Seasons, sliding the key card into the door and stepping into the spacious suite. He set his duffel bag down near the closet and took in the luxurious space—the crisp white sheets on the king-size bed, the elegant furnishings, and the soft glow from the bedside lamp. He sighed, shaking off the fatigue from the flight, and collapsed onto the bed.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he immediately texted Rhea: “Wya?”

He barely had to wait a moment before her reply came through: “Already here. I’ll wait till Joe falls asleep, and then I’ll sneak out.”

Jimmy smirked, the thrill of their secret rendezvous igniting a spark of excitement in his chest. He typed back quickly: “Can’t wait to kiss you again.”

He set the phone down for a moment, staring up at the ceiling as anticipation curled in his stomach. The thought of her slipping out of her room and into his, unseen by anyone else, was as intoxicating as the woman herself.

His phone buzzed again. Another message from Rhea popped up: “You’re impossible 🙃 but okay.”

He tossed the phone onto the bed beside him, running a hand over his face. This was reckless. Dangerous. But, damn it, he didn’t care. Rhea was worth the risk.

He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. 11:45 PM. Still a couple of hours to kill before their planned meeting. He grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV, aimlessly flipping through channels to distract himself, though his mind was fixed on what the night would bring.

—

The clock struck 3 a.m., and Rhea’s phone buzzed, its soft vibrations pulling her from sleep. Groggily, she reached over to grab it and saw Jimmy’s name flashing on the screen. She swiped to answer.

“You fell asleep?” Jimmy’s voice was low but teasing.

Rhea yawned softly. “Yeah, for a bit. Let me see if he’s asleep.”

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, moving quietly to avoid waking Joe. Padding across the suite, she approached Joe’s door and pressed her ear against it. The steady rhythm of his snores confirmed that he was out cold.

Grabbing the spare key card from the counter, Rhea whispered into the phone, “Tell me what room.”

“520,” Jimmy replied without hesitation.

“I’ll be on my way,” Rhea said, her voice tinged with both nerves and excitement.

She hung up the call and quickly threw on a hoodie and joggers over her bra and panties, not bothering to put on socks or shoes. Quietly, she opened the suite door and slipped out into the hallway, closing it just as softly behind her. Taking a deep breath, she opted for the stairs, not wanting to risk running into anyone in the elevator at such a late hour.

The cool air of the stairwell brushed against her exposed skin as she descended the steps to the fifth floor. Her heart thudded in her chest, both from the rush of sneaking out and the thrill of seeing Jimmy again.

When she reached room 520, she knocked softly. Almost immediately, the door opened, and Jimmy stood there, his face lighting up the second he saw her. Without a word, he grabbed her hand, pulled her inside, and shut the door behind her.

He lifted her off the ground effortlessly, wrapping his strong arms around her waist. “I missed you so much,” he murmured before pressing his lips to hers in a hungry, passionate kiss.

Rhea melted into the kiss for a moment, her hands resting on his shoulders, before pulling back slightly. “I can’t stay too long,” she said, her voice breathless.

Jimmy set her down gently but kept his arms locked around her. “Don’t worry, I just wanted to kiss you and feel you in my arms, Rhea.”

She looked up at him, her expression conflicted. “What are you doing to me?” she asked softly, almost more to herself than to him.

Jimmy’s dark eyes locked onto hers, his gaze intense but tender. “I’m showing you how you should have been with me in the first place,” he said, his voice steady and filled with conviction.

Rhea’s breath hitched, her mind swirling with emotions she couldn’t even begin to untangle. But before she could say anything else, Jimmy kissed her again, and for a fleeting moment, all of her doubts and fears melted away in the heat of his embrace. He used his hands to lift her up and she wrapped her legs around him tight. Jimmy walked the two to the bed, not breaking the kiss. He softly set Rhea in the bed and he pulled the comforter over the two, Jimmy straddling Rhea as she used her tongue to taste Jimmy more, both their tongues battling.

—

9:30 AM

Rhea woke to the blaring sound of her alarm, the shrill noise cutting through the deep, almost dreamless sleep she’d fallen into. She groaned, rubbing her eyes as she tried to shake off the lingering exhaustion. Glancing at her phone, she realized there was no time to waste.

Grabbing her neatly folded clothes, she headed to the bathroom for a quick shower. The warm water cascaded over her, and for a moment, she let it clear her thoughts, washing away the tension from last night’s secrecy. Once out, she dressed, slipped on her boots, and began packing her gym bag for the night’s show.

A knock at the door broke her concentration.

“You ready?” Joe’s voice called through the door.

“Coming!” Rhea replied, zipping up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder.

They headed out shortly after, their ride taking them straight to the arena. The atmosphere was already buzzing with anticipation, crew members bustling around in preparation for the live show.

Inside, Hunter was waiting for them in one of the production meeting rooms.

“Alright, let’s go over the details one last time,” Hunter began, addressing Joe and Rhea. He laid out the plan for Joe’s grand return, emphasizing the timing and the dramatic cues. As Hunter spoke, Rhea stayed focused, mentally preparing herself for the part she had to play.

Toward the end of the briefing, Hunter looked at Joe. “Where’s Jimmy?” he asked, glancing at the clock on the wall.

Joe shrugged casually. “He texted me saying he slept late, but he’s on his way.”

Hunter nodded, satisfied. “Perfect. Rhea, it’s time to get into position. You know the drill.”

Rhea nodded, already anticipating the long, uncomfortable hours ahead. She grabbed her bag and headed toward the arena floor with one of the crew members.

As she crouched low and crawled underneath the ring through the trapdoor, she took a deep breath, bracing herself for the cramped space and the inevitable wait. The space was dark and quiet, save for the distant echoes of people moving around above her.

She adjusted herself, laying down on the padding beneath her. This wasn’t her first time doing this, but it didn’t make the hours of waiting any easier. Her mind wandered, thinking about her performance tonight, her secret rendezvous with Jimmy the night before, and the tension with Jey.

Pushing those thoughts aside, she focused on her breathing, counting down the hours until her cue.

As Rhea adjusted herself on the padded floor, she heard the sound of movement nearby. Turning her head toward the trapdoor, she saw Todd, one of the assembly crew, crawling into the cramped space with a small ice chest in hand.

“Hey, Rhea,” Todd greeted casually, setting the ice chest down. “Figured you might need something to make this wait a little less miserable. You want a soda?”

Rhea, grateful for the gesture, smiled. “Yeah, if you’ve got a Dr. Pepper, I’ll take one.”

Todd dug into the cooler and handed her a can. “What about snacks? You good?”

Rhea shrugged. “If you’ve got a Lunchable, I wouldn’t say no.”

Todd chuckled. “Lunchable? C’mon, Rhea, we’re professionals here. I raided catering for the good stuff.” He pulled out a few containers of food and held them out for her to choose.

“Okay, you’ve outdone yourself,” Rhea said with a laugh, grabbing a small plate of chicken sliders and some fruit. She settled back on the pad and began eating, feeling a little less irritable about the hours ahead.

Rhea looked up from her spot on the pad as Todd set up a small monitor beneath the ring. Just as she was about to thank him, the trapdoor opened again, and Jimmy crawled in, his signature smirk plastered across his face.

“Look who decided to show up,” Rhea said, arching a brow. She fought to keep her tone casual, though the sight of him made her pulse quicken.

Jimmy shrugged, settling himself comfortably on the pad beside her. “What can I say? I slept late. Had a fun night.”

Rhea felt heat creeping up her neck and quickly looked away, pretending to focus on her Dr. Pepper. She wasn’t about to let Jimmy’s words—and their implications—rattle her in front of Todd.

“Well, since you missed the briefing,” she said, her voice steady, “Hunter went over everything. We’re set to make our entrance after Solo, Jacob, Tama and Tonga corner Joe.”

Jimmy nodded, his smirk softening into something more serious. “Got it. Should be good. You nervous?”

Rhea gave him a look. “I’m always ready. You?”

Jimmy leaned back against the side of the ring, folding his arms behind his head. “I was born ready.”

Todd, who had been quietly adjusting the monitor, chuckled. “You two should save the banter for the cameras. Here, you’ll want to keep an eye on this,” he said, gesturing to the screen as he turned it on.

The monitor flickered to life, displaying a blue screen that was currently airing. Todd handed Rhea the remote and said, “Let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be in the truck if you do.”

Rhea nodded, giving him a quick smile. “Thanks, Todd.”

As Todd crawled out of the space, Jimmy shifted closer to Rhea. “You okay?”

Rhea glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Just focused,” she said simply, though the tension between them was palpable.

Jimmy looked at Rhea, a sly grin spreading across his face as he said, "Give me a kiss."

Rhea giggled softly, her cheeks warming under his gaze. She leaned in and gave him a small, quick kiss, trying to keep things light.

But Jimmy wasn't satisfied. "After last night," he said, his voice dropping into a husky whisper, "I want more."

Rhea turned her head quickly to check the trapdoor, making sure no one was coming. When she saw it was still clear, she let out a soft sigh and leaned in again. This time, the kiss was deeper, more lingering, as Jimmy cupped the back of her neck, pulling her closer.

The two made out for a few moments, the sounds of the crew members assembling the fixtures and finishing the top ring above them muffled by the thick padding of the bottom of the ring. Jimmy's fingers trailed down her arm, sending a shiver through her.

Finally, Rhea pulled back, her breathing slightly uneven. She pressed a hand to his chest, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "You're so crazy," she said, shaking her head.

Jimmy chuckled, his eyes glinting mischievously.

"Crazy for you."

Rhea rolled her eyes playfully, trying to ignore the rapid thudding of her heart. She glanced back at the monitor Todd had set up, pretending to focus on something else. “We need to be careful," she muttered, her voice softer now.

Jimmy leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. "Careful doesn't really suit us, does it?"

Rhea fought back a smile, knowing he wasn't wrong. But she also knew how much was at stake if Jey knew she had went back to Jimmy.

Taking a steadying breath, she adjusted her position and Jimmy pulled her closer to him.

"Jimmy for real, we have to be on the lookout."

Jimmy let out a low laugh, leaning back but keeping his gaze locked on her. “Okay mami..."

Rhea bit her lip to hide her smile, shifting her attention fully to her phone. But the heat lingering between them was undeniable, making the small space under the ring feel even more charged.

—

The arena lights dim, and Solo Sikoa’s music hits, drawing a mix of jeers and gasps from the audience. He strides down the ramp, flanked by Jacob Fatu, Tama Tonga, and Tonga Loa, their intimidating presence radiating authority. Solo wears the coveted Ula Fala, his face expressionless but his eyes brimming with confidence.

Corey Graves: “Here he comes, Wade—Solo Sikoa, the self-proclaimed ‘real’ Tribal Chief. And look at this Bloodline! Jacob Fatu, Tama Tonga, Tonga Loa—this is an imposing sight.”

Wade Barrett: “Corey, this group may be new to the WWE audience, but these men have wrestling royalty coursing through their veins. Solo Sikoa is making a bold statement tonight by aligning himself with these Samoan warriors. Forget about Roman Reigns—Solo wants us all to acknowledge him.”

Corey Graves: “Minneapolis is letting him know exactly what they think of his so-called claim to the throne, but Solo doesn’t seem to care one bit!”

The group enters the ring, each man taking a corner and raising their hands, commanding the crowd’s attention. Solo steps to the center, grabbing a microphone. The boos grow louder, but Solo smirks, unfazed.

Solo Sikoa: “Minneapolis… acknowledge me.”

The boos reach a fever pitch, and Solo waits patiently for the noise to subside, his stoic demeanor adding to the tension in the arena.

Solo Sikoa: “Roman Reigns? A Tribal Chief? Nah. You can’t be a Tribal Chief if you don’t even have a tribe. The truth is standing right here, in front of you. Jacob Fatu, Tama Tonga, Tonga Loa—this is my tribe. And you will acknowledge me as the real Tribal Chief.”

The crowd erupts with boos, some chanting Roman’s name, others screaming insults at Solo.

Wade Barrett: “Solo is cutting deep tonight, Corey. He’s not just challenging Roman Reigns—he’s dismantling the very foundation of Roman’s legacy.”

Corey Graves: “This is dangerous territory, Wade. Roman Reigns isn’t just the face of the WWE; he’s the Tribal Chief of an entire legacy. Solo might regret these words.”

Solo Sikoa: “Minneapolis… you will acknowledge me, because Roman Reigns will never step foot in the WWE ring again! He’s too afraid to face me! He knows his time is up!”

Suddenly, the familiar opening notes of Roman Reigns’ theme music hit, and the arena explodes in cheers. The crowd jumps to their feet, screaming Roman’s name as he emerges on the stage, his signature calm and menacing presence.

Corey Graves: “He’s HERE! ROMAN REIGNS IS BACK AFTER WRESTLEMANIA! THE TRIBAL CHIEF IS BACK!”

Wade Barrett: “Look at the intensity on Roman’s face. He’s not here for words—he’s here for war!”

Roman cracks his knuckles as he slowly makes his way to the ring, his eyes locked on Solo and his crew. He steps onto the apron and into the ring, unflinching despite the numbers against him.

Roman charges Solo, and the brawl begins. Eventually, Solo, Jacob, Tama, and Tonga gang up on Roman, hammering him into a corner. The crowd is at a fever pitch as the beatdown continues.

Corey Graves: “Roman Reigns is fighting with everything he has, but the numbers game is just too much!”

Suddenly, the lights in the arena shut off, plunging everything into darkness. The crowd roars, phones lighting up the arena like stars.

Wade Barrett: “What the hell is going on?! Who’s behind this?!”

In the cover of darkness, Jimmy and Rhea emerge from underneath the ring, both dressed in all black, ski masks covering their faces. They each grab steel chairs and take their positions.

The lights come back on, and chaos ensues. Rhea swings her chair, taking out Tama Tonga with a brutal shot to the back. Jimmy smashes his chair into Tonga Loa, sending him sprawling out of the ring. Jacob Fatu turns to attack, but Jimmy and Rhea double-team him, taking him down with synchronized chair shots.

Roman capitalizes on the moment, launching himself at Solo and pummeling him into the mat. The crowd is deafening, a mix of cheers and gasps.

Corey Graves: “This is absolute carnage! Roman Reigns is cleaning house, and whoever these masked assailants are—they’re helping him dismantle Solo’s tribe!”

With Solo’s crew neutralized, Jimmy and Rhea drop their chairs and kneel in the center of the ring, raising their fingers in the air in the signature “One” gesture. Roman stands over Solo, looking down at him before turning his gaze to the masked figures.

Roman approaches them, yanking off Jimmy’s mask first. The crowd erupts into cheers as Jimmy’s face is revealed. Roman then removes Rhea’s mask, and the cheers grow even louder, mixed with a few shocked gasps.

Wade Barrett: “It’s the Mixed Gender Tag Team Champs Jimmy Uso and Rhea Ripley?! What on earth is going on here?!”

Roman smirks, looking at the carnage around him. He extends his arms, pulling Jimmy and Rhea to their feet. The three of them stand tall in the ring, raising their ones high as Solo and his crew retreat up the ramp, licking their wounds.

Corey Graves: “This war for the Bloodline is far from over, but tonight, Roman Reigns has sent a message: he’s still the Tribal Chief, and he’s got soldiers willing to go to war with him!”

Wade Barrett: “Solo wanted to call himself the real Tribal Chief, but after tonight, he’s going to think twice about stepping to Roman Reigns again. This is just the beginning, Corey!”

The screen fades to black as Roman, Jimmy, and Rhea stand united in the ring, the crowd chanting Roman’s name.

—

Cathy Kelley: “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m here with Roman Reigns, Jimmy Uso, and Rhea Ripley. Roman, tonight marks a monumental moment in WWE history as you make your return and team up with the Mixed Gender Tag Team Champions, Jimmy Uso and Rhea Ripley. What does this mean for the Bloodline moving forward?”

Roman stands silent, his expression cold and intimidating. Before he can respond, Rhea steps forward with a smirk, cutting Cathy off.

Rhea Ripley: “You can call us… ‘The Elevated Bloodline,’ Cathy. A name fitting for a faction that’s untouchable and unstoppable.”

The crowd in the arena can be heard buzzing in the background, a mix of boos and intrigue. Cathy, keeping her composure, presses forward with her next question.

Cathy Kelley: “Rhea, that’s a bold statement. But I have to ask—what about your boyfriend, Jey Uso? Is he part of this new trio, or has he been excluded?”

The tension rises immediately. Rhea raises an eyebrow, her smirk faltering for a split second, but before she can say anything, Jimmy steps forward, his cocky demeanor radiating.

Jimmy Uso: “Jey? You wanna talk about Jey, Cathy? Alright, let’s talk about him.” He chuckles mockingly, glancing at Rhea before continuing. “As for the ‘boyfriend’ part, let’s just say Rhea here chose the better brother. That’s why she’s standing here with us—where she belongs.”

Jimmy casually puts an arm around Rhea, who doesn’t flinch. Instead, she leans into the mic with an icy smile.

Rhea Ripley: “Let this be a lesson to Solo, Jey, and the rest of those… insignificant pigs whose names I don’t even bother to learn.” She looks directly into the camera, her voice dripping with venom. “Rhea Ripley, Jimmy Uso, and Roman Reigns are the only Bloodline you will ever acknowledge.”

The crowd erupts in a mix of cheers and gasps and boos as the weight of her words sinks in. Cathy is left speechless as Roman, Jimmy, and Rhea turn and walk away, their presence commanding.

Corey Graves (on commentary): “Did you hear that, Wade? Rhea Ripley just declared war on the rest of the Bloodline—and Jimmy Uso didn’t even hesitate to throw his own brother under the bus!”

Wade Barrett: “This is calculated, Corey. Roman, Jimmy, and Rhea aren’t just forming a faction; they’re establishing dominance. And if this is the ‘Elevated Bloodline,’ I don’t think anyone—not Jey, not Solo, not even the WWE locker room—can stop them.”

The camera lingers on Cathy, still stunned by the sharp words and the powerful declaration as the screen fades to the next segment.

— Flashback 3:20AM

Jimmy pinned Rhea down, their lips locked, and tongues intertwined. His rough hands ran through her long black hair, pulling her head back as he took control. He loved the way her body molded against his as he laid on top of her, their legs tangled together. His strong, tattooed arms snaked around her waist, his chest muscles flexing as he lifted her up off the bed. She wrapped her legs around his torso, letting him grind his hard-on into her.

Rhea pulled back, breathing heavily as she stared up at Jimmy. "I'm still not ready," she panted, biting her lip.

Jimmy's face fell, but he quickly recovered, plastering a smile on his face. "Don’t worry about angering me.. I could never ever be mad at you," he said, leaning down to kiss her again. Rhea melted against him, letting his warmth wash over her as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"I do want to please you in another way," Rhea whispered, pulling back from the kiss. Jimmy raised his eyebrows, his curiosity piqued. Rhea grinned, using her legs to flip the two, before climbing on top of him. She trailed her fingers down his chest, tracing the lines of tattoos. He watched her in fascination as she reached down and pulled his dick out from his sleeping pants.

Rhea wasted no time, taking him into her mouth and sucking hard. Jimmy threw his head back, letting out a low groan as she worked her magic. Her tongue danced around his tip, teasing him as she took him deeper into her mouth. She sucked and licked, her hand pumping the base of his dick as she worked him up. Jimmy's hips bucked off the bed as he thrust into her mouth, letting out a string of curse words as he felt himself nearing the edge.

The blowjob lasted for such a long time and despite her jaw locking up several times, Rhea kept going, despite the gagging sensation she was feeling. This was nothing like the blowjobs she would give Jey, this felt… right. Rhea felt her saliva drip onto Jimmy’s dick as he continued to thrust into her mouth. The way he tasted made her so wet but she knew.. she knew she had to repay him the favor for that mind blowing orgasm she received just last week.

It was like Rhea just knew how to drive him wild. She moaned around his dick, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. She gripped his thighs, pulling him deeper into her mouth as she hollowed out her cheeks, hoping to finally get him to cum in her mouth, his cum that she was so wanting to have go deep down her throat, the saltiness she was wanting to taste. Jimmy's breath hitched as he felt himself on the brink, his balls tightening as he exploded into Rhea's mouth. She swallowed every drop, licking him clean..

“My beautiful possession..”

[faistoconnors]

Snow Day - A. Donaldson x Reader

Warnings: Pure fluff. Could be read as Christmas-oriented but not mentioned! As per usual, unedited. No use of Y/N!

Word Count: 830

Pairing: Art Donaldson x Fem! Reader (no pronouns used but reader is called 'mommy' by their daughter)

Summary: A peaceful, snowy morning with Art and your daughter.

A/N: Despite living in Wisconsin, we have no snow on the ground :( so this is just wishful thinking really.

You’re awoken quite rudely. There’s a small hand, frantically tapping at your shoulder, accompanied by a voice. 

“Mommy,” your daughter whispers. She smacks her hand against your shoulder again, and finally, you open your eyes fully and blink the sleep away. Willow’s face is lit up in a grin that’s missing several teeth, her eyes sparkling. Your husband is still fast asleep beside you, turned over on his side, but Willow doesn’t allow you the same luxury. 

“Mommy, there’s snow,” she breathes out, almost reverent, and it all clicks. Quietly, you stand up from bed, tugging on a thick bathrobe and your slippers. Even with the heating, there’s still a frosty chill in the house. Willow’s hand fits into your own, and she drags you over to the window, pulling back the curtain just slightly. True to her word, the world outside is blanketed entirely in white. She lets out a quiet giggle, pressing her face up to the windowpane and watching as it fogs up. 

The two of you head to the kitchen together, and you help the girl up onto one of the stools, fixing her a bowl of cereal. 

“What do you say we make some hot chocolate together? We’ll save some for your dad when he wakes up,” you suggest, and somehow, she lights up even more. 

When the milk is set to heat up on the stove, the hot cocoa powder in its place on the counter nearby, you settle down at the island beside her to have your own breakfast. Willow’s long since finished hers, and she wanders over to the large bay window, sitting down and staring out of it. She’s practically vibrating with anticipation, and you know she’s itching to go outside, but a warm drink and some proper gear are in order before that can happen.

A pair of hands settle at your waist, and you look back to see a flash of blond hair and a flannel pajama set. Art plants a kiss on your cheek before moving over to the stove, wordlessly settling in to help you make the cocoa. As he finishes and pours the liquid into three travel mugs, he gives you a bright smile that reminds you so much of the girl who’s sitting close by. 

“Good morning,” he murmurs, returning to your side and putting an arm around your waist. His eyes are still tired, but you know he never sleeps well without you by his side, so it was inevitable that he’d woken up. 

“Morning,” you reply. “There’s snow.” 

He grins, letting out a quiet laugh. “I figured, from the way Willow-bug has glued herself to the window.” 

At the mention of her name, Willow turns back around, hopping up and flying through the living room back into the kitchen. She wraps her arms around Art’s legs and tugs on his hand. 

“Get me dressed so we can go outside?” she pleads eagerly, and how could either of you say no to that face? Art smooths a hand over her hair, nodding. 

“Let your mommy and I get dressed too, alright? Then we’ll all be ready.” 

She nods in a heartbeat, bouncing off to the window again while you and Art go to put your winter clothes on. 

“It feels ridiculous to go out in the snow so early on a Saturday morning,” you say fondly, and he agrees. 

“She was like this last winter too,” he grins. It’s true; last winter was the year you had moved to a place where it actually snows, and Willow had been over the moon. Of course, that time, she’d also bolted straight outside in her pajamas and played for half an hour, catching a terrible cold shortly after. It was a blessing she was slightly more patient this time around. 

When all three of you are bundled up and ready, Willow leads the way out the front door into the big yard. When you turn your back for just a moment to close the door, there’s a quiet whack noise, and the feeling of something hitting your back. Slowly rotating, you spot your daughter, mischievous smile on her face, hands behind her back. Art looks off down the driveway in faux-ignorance, though his shoulders are shaking with a laugh. 

Silently, you lift up a snowball in your own hand, and pitch it, though you’re unable to match the skill of your tennis-player husband. Still, it hits him square in the back of his head, pieces falling off down his neck into his coat, and he yelps. 

He turns to look at you with an expression of shock and determination, and you know you’ve done it now. 

Soon, the driveway will have to be shoveled, the roof cleared off of the heavy snow, the outdoor furniture brought to the garage. But for now, the three of you enjoy your time together, waging frosty war and warming hands with cups of cocoa until it’s time to head in.

[lottiesboy]

meeting dada’s friends!!

pairing: cg!nat scatorccio x little!reader

summary: you meet the rest of the yellowjackets for the first time at camp green pine.

tags: sfw, fluff, age regression, daddy!nat, he/him nat, shy baby reader, soooo many aunties and uncle van :33

"you ready to meet daddy's friends?" nat smiled slightly, unbuckling your seatbelt. it was a pretty long drive to camp green pine from wiskayok, so you took a quick nap on the way there. nat snickered, watching you rub your sleepy little eyes.

"aww, you tired?" he pulled your paci out of your mouth and you yawned. the sun was setting fast, making nat happy that he wouldn't have to drive in the dark woods. he grabbed your diaper bag and picked you up, putting you on his hip. you gripped onto the collar of his leather jacket, resting your head on his shoulder.

he talked to you sweetly as he walked up the dirt trail to the camp, and you just tried not to fall asleep again. he could see lottie's kaftan flowing in the cold night air, checking on her bees for the last time today.

"hey, lot." he said nonchalantly, lottie looking up and seeing you being held by nat. "well, hello there!" lottie smiled when she saw you. she's the only one that you've met out of nat's highschool friends and you grew super close to her. and she loves seeing you when you're little.

“hi, sweetie. you look so adorable. yes you do, your dads dressed you up so nicely.” lottie babied, making you blush.

"everyone gone to bed?" nat asked. "yeah, but tai, van, shauna, and misty are waiting for you in the main room. complaining about how you're always late." lottie smiled. "ahh, geez. okay, you coming?"

"in just a little bit." lottie nodded, walking over to a shed, leaving you and nat alone and the middle of the grassy field. you wriggled in his arms and whined. "you want down?" nat put you down so you could walk, but he still made you hold his hand. "c'mon, baby."

-

nat entered the main room, hearing his friends talk over each other and laughing. he saw how shy you were and smiled softly, ruffling your hair. "it's alright. they're gonna be really nice to you, baby."

"hey guys," nat greeted. you saw all of nat’s friends in a circle, sitting on pillows. you stuck close to nat, your shyness getting the best of you. the four adults greeted themselves, smiling at how close you wanted to be to nat.

nat sat down, putting you in his lap and putting your diaper bag down next to him. “who’s this?” shauna smiled, putting her drink down. you could tell they knew about your regression because they were so sweet about it.

“you wanna say hi, baby?” your daddy encouraged, but you just whined, hiding in his shoulder. “awww, you shy?” he bounced you. “..paci.” you whined, making nat pull it out of his pocket. “dada’s got it right here, shhh.” he pushed it your mouth, feeling you relax in his arms.

the adults couldn’t help but stare at the sweet moment you and nat were sharing. they never really see nat so soft and maternal, and they wanted to soak it all up.

lottie came in later on and turned on some music, but kept it soft. while nat was having a side conversation with misty and lottie, you made eye contact with taissa and van, who were trying to make you laugh by playing peek a boo. nat heard you giggle softly, and saw the two adults up to their silly antics. “is that funny, huh?”

your shyness faded away more and more while interacting with all of nat’s friends, misty not even hesitating to call herself “aunt misty.”

“i think it’s time to get you to bed, little baby? you falling asleep on dada?” you whined at his tone because you didn’t want him to be right, you wanted to stay up!!!!

“no sleepy…”

“oh yeah? your eyes are about to close, buddy. c’mon.” nat held his arms out to pick you up, but you whimpered, nat seeing the fears forming in your eyes. you hated having fomo, especially when you were tiny. “don’t cryyy,,, c’mere, buddy. shh shh. come to dada..” nat picked you up, putting you on his hip.

“we’ll all be here tomorrow, kiddo.” van told you, which made you feel a little bit better. you said “nini” to everyone, and they responded back the same. you and nat walked to the empty cabins, the dirt trail lit up by the cozy light posts. “you like dada’s friends, don’t you? are they silly?”

you nodded, smiling behind your paci. you couldn’t wait to sleep so you could wake up and play again.

[hexarcana]

Talking to Stanley really did make her feel a lot better. And knowing there's someone out in the world that she trusts and feels safe and comfortable being herself with is something she wasn't sure she'd ever get to feel. She can't stop smiling, all the way back to the shack.

--

Relief floods her at seeing the whole shabang so subdued. There are way less people and blessedly, thankfully, Thistle and his goons (and Carla) are gone. She stands off to the side as Stan talks with his brother, not wanting to butt in, but she does make an incredulous face at the mention of clones.

She then offers a half nervous and half sheepish grin at the mention of Thistle. She puts her hands in her pockets and looks around, rocking on her feet. She catches sight of the clock and makes note that her Ma likely would be showing up soon.

"Thistle shouldn't be driving. He probably has a concussion." Aggie says nonchalantly. "Hi Ford." She adds with a smile. "Clones, huh?" Ford manages a sort of distant shrug.

"Long story." He replies, sounding tired. Aggie's about to ask for the story when the boys Great Aunt comes up to them.

(Cut to preserve the dash.)

"There you two are!" She says brightly, getting a good look at her nephew. "I heard you got in a fight with that hippie kid. You musta won, though, you look totally fine."

"He did." Aggie interjects. "He was awesome." She looks at Stanley with a slightly mischievous and knowing smile.

"Well! Good for you, Tiger!" She ruffles Stanley's hair, and also does Ford's too because she doesn't want him to feel left out. "But please try not to fight patrons during shack events, kay? It’s bad for business." She turns her attention to Aggie. "And you, missy, missed your Ma."

"I did?" Aggie checks the clock again. "She was sposed to come at nine... That clock says 8?"

"That clock's broke, Aggie." Mabel pats her head, "Don't sweat it, I told your Ma that I'd keep ya tonight." Aggie stares at Mabel, her confusion extremely obvious. That was so out of character for her Ma it was almost unnerving. Her Ma didn't trust anyone so why would she be willing to leave her with Mabel, a woman that as far as Aggie knows, is a total stranger. But she decides not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"A-alright. Thank you, Miss Mabel. I've never slept at a place that ain't my house before-"

"You've never been to a slumber party before?" Mabel looks absolutely horrified as she grabs Aggie in a hug, "You poor thing! You've been deprived of one of childhood's greatest joys!" Aggie looks at her friends helplessly as she's hugged so fiercely by this weird old woman. "This is going to be so fun!" Mabel sets a flustered and slightly disheveled Aggie back on the floor. "Boys, since Carla took off with her boyfriend we need extra hands to clean this place up." She looks towards her other employee, who's helping herself to leftover snacks. "Maria! You're with me, we've got Slumber party prep to do!" Maria salutes her boss, and Mabel addresses the rest of the room at large: "Alright, folks! Thanks for coming! But if you're not one of these three kids, please leave! Thank you!" When the place doesn't immediately start to clear she adds, "I said PLEASE.!" With a very serious weirdly threatening edge that gets the few remaining people to leave. "Alrighty! Boys, get cleaning, Maria, with me, and Aggie- You... You can just hang out."

"I can help clean?" Aggie adds, "I don't mind." Mabel clicks her fingers at her and offers two thumbs up.

"That's why I like you, sweetie. You don't mind things! I love it!" And the kooky old lady is gone, her handygirl following behind. Within a minute or two, its just the three of them.

"Your house is so fun." Aggie says, grinning at the boys.

Stan reaches out his hand, pinkie extended to match Aggie’s.

“Promise” he says solemnly, as he links pinkie fingers with hers. “You’re the only friend I’ve made this summer, I’d never want to break your trust Aggie…” he smiles. There are certain points in your life that you know will always remember. Stan knew that this would be one of them.

“Lets get back to that party. I think I’ve already got my dance partner right here after all.”

———

Once they got back to the Shack, the party had died down a great deal. Graunty Mabel was contentedly knitting on a folding chair in a corner. The record player was skipping, playing the same five second snippet of a song in a loop. And Ford stood in the middle of the dance-floor, looking slightly dazed, with a thousand yard stare.

Stan walks up to him, and eyes him up and down.

“What the heck happened to you Sixer?” Stan asked, waving a hand in front of Ford’s field of vision to see if he was awake.

“Clones. I made temporary clones with the copy-machine in Graunty Mabel’s office. Bad idea. Tried to impress Fidds. You?” Ford said in a halting voice like he was still trying to get over what had just happened.

“Tried to impress Carla McCorkle. Didn’t work.” Stan shrugged, taking Ford’s revelation in stride. “Thistle Downe didn’t like that.” He looks over to Aggie. “Good thing I had a friend here to help me out.” He smiles.

“Speaking of, where are they are all?” Stan asks, looking around the nearly empty function room.

“They left about 30 minutes ago. All drove off in Thistle’s van. Said something about how this party was for babies anyway.” Ford shrugged.

He looks at Aggie, as though realising she’s there all of a sudden.

“Oh hey Aggie.”

[lavampira]

see the light, feel the heat

[maximusboltaqon]

ok picture this. an ahura luna leer petras alecto comic set during/immediately after doti where the kids are like. Huh Haven't Heard From Mom In A While. n they gotta go figure out why gorgon isnt returning their calls and then get swept up into the Holy Shit bc they get to attilan somehow and see how completely destroyed it is. i havent thought of it much past that but cue the looking for dad typical comic. and thats whag i want for the inhumans rn. i crave a 2nd gen (? if the kids can count as that) centric comic so bad :(

[jewishbuckley]

"was there a reason you didn't cancel this" honestly I thought I had so no there wasn't a reason but also if clients are going to have Your personal number and reach out to You about canceling (when they Should be reaching out via email per our cancelation policy) then You should be canceling the appt anyway imo. all the other trainers cancel their appointments AND add their appointments to the system 🤪

[nerdie-faerie]

Feeling a lil vindictive, a lil nasty this morning

So context, my brother had a work do last night and before he left he told my mum he'd becoming back here and doing so alone. So tell me why he called me at 3am when I'm trying to sleep but travel anxiety and says he's bringing two mates back? I tell him he can't I'm leaving at 6 tomorrow he just goes yeah they'll just be passing through your room. No I've gotta get up in 3 hours you can't be keeping up, yeah it's fine. The fuck it is not

Anyway so my alarm goes off 3 hours later I've barely slept, my brain already woke me up several times prior but that doesn't mean I'm turning my alarms off immediately or getting ready quietly after the prick disturbed my sleep

[starlooove]

Fanon when they realize that making cass the silent asian whos a bit snarky sometimes is still racist even tho they hate Morrison 😨😨😰😰😰🫣🫣🫣🫣

[writersdrug]

Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:

In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."

Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.

Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.

Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.

Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.

Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.

Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.

Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four

The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.

It had been a long month.

Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.

But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.

Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.

You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing

You weren’t stupid.

You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.

You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.

But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.

"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.

You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.

What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.

“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”

You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.

“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.

You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.

And then you heard hers. No fucking way.

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

She was there, with him.

You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.

There they were.

She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

You froze.

He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.

You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?

Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.

It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.

That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.

After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?

Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.

What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.

But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.

Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.

“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.

Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"

You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”

He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”

You hated saying her name.

Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.

Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.

“Did everyone fucking know?”

Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”

Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.

You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”

He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”

But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.

With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.

Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”

That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.

You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.

You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.

He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.

The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.

A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.

How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?

Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?

All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."

You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.

But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.

And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?

But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.

Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.

You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.

Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.

"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."

The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.

But then…

You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.

Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.

You hadn’t had your period in… so long.

Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.

You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."

How could you not have noticed?

Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"

You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.

You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.

“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.

He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.

Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.

"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.

You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”

He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.

You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."

The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.

Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.

You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.

Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.

You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.

“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”

“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.

You just needed to get out of here.

“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”

His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”

Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.

And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.

Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.

While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.

You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.

“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.

You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.

“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.

You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.

The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.

You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.

The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.

You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.

The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?

You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.

You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.

You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.

You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.

Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?

Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?

It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.

You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.

The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.

You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.

This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.

You were tired.

Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.

Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.

Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.

Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.

All of this would go away.

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