#written ( let the games begin )

[bembwashere]

Uhhh happy birthday me :) also to portal 2 and Psychonauts I guess hfhxhdj

[refridgerators]

oh my god i got bg3 like 4 days ago and ive been playing non-stop. i haven’t even been listening to music, i haven’t felt the need to. it’s honestly kinda scary cus i can get too wrapped in games sometimes which results in me forgetting to eat and sleep and shower but idk tbh. i bought it for astarion but fell in love with gale instead, he is my slime.

[averysjameson]

idk but saying jennifer lynn barnes sucks at writing romance because your ship wasn't canon is beyond hilarious to me like okay???? HAHHAHAHA. everyone has their own preferences of course but the vehement hatred for jlb and the belittlement of her writing on booktok and bookstagram (sometimes on here) has been ASTOUNDING.

a note about the "poorly done romance/love triangle" in tig: jlb never said it was going to be "even". no one ever said that. personally pioneering the idea that one character was "not given a chance" does not make it a poorly written love triangle or a poorly written romance. in love triangles, there is usually ALWAYS one option who is simply NOT a real option. look me in the eye and tell me characters jeremiah fisher, aspen in the selection series, gale hawthorne, adam kent, jacob black, and i'm sorry but grayson hawthorne amongst a myriad of others were actual contenders for the main character. if you believed they are/wanted them to be, that's great! but all of these characters are in well known love triangles and at the end of the day, books with love triangles WILL sell because they generate conversation and hype around the book. it is a marketing tactic and you are NEVER promised equal opportunity from both love interests. you losing the love triangle or that you believe there is wasted potential doesn't mean bad writing has occurred. also, for the love of god, while you are supposed to relate to a character, you are not the main character!! belly, america, katniss, juliette, avery, what have you, all chose based on who they are as characters. and also, female characters don't have to "experience" both love interests to make a decision. if they want to, that's totally fine, but specifically about avery bc this is what this blog is all about, she absolutely knows what she's "missing out" on with grayson and she doesn't care. shipping averygrayson just blatantly feels like ignoring avery's wants and needs.

anyway, if you want to call jlb's writing poorly done bc you didn't get your way, that's totally fine. you are entitled to your own opinion. it's just funny that you say that bc had grayson and avery been randomly thrown together in the epilogue of tfg or something, i have a feeling you wouldn't be of this opinion.

tldr; love triangles are a marketing tactic and you are neither entitled to a win nor is is poorly done/executed if you lose. love triangles, more often than not, have a clear winner from the beginning (coughcough "see? you're already his") but the debate and drama of another character sells the book.

[icewindandboringhorror]

feeling sick constantly in the background all the time is like.. usually negligible-ish.. until multiple various chronic background issues all happen to overlap at once and then it’s like 

[aquaticflora]

i've been working on a character study fic for my interpretation of mike the past couple of days, albeit very slowly, and i can't believe it's taken me this long to write one for him when character studies are typically my favorite type of fic to write AND the fact that ive been rping mike actively since like. the release of the first game.

[strongerthanaman]

A character from your favorite game? (for the RP meme)

Meme|| Accepting

Legit saw this when you first sent it and had to let it sit for hours because I was like 'what is my favorite game?' The answer would have to be American McGee's Alice because although I haven't played it in ages due to not having a computer that can handle it, it will always have a special place in my heart because my mom and I bonded over it.

Which leads to who I would play from it, which is hard because there's really not a lot of choices for that game. Probably Alice or the Cheshire Cat.

[mystiika]

misc tag drop

[skywalkerslvt]

Pierced-Ellie Williams x AFAB!Reader

❥Pairing: loser!Ellie Williams x AFAB!Reader

❥Summary: After playing two truths and a lie with your best friend ellie, you reveal you have secret piercings. things ensue...

❥CW: smut, nipple play, reader has nipple piercings, fingering, oral sex (reader receiving), tribbing, ellie is a bit of a nervous loser in the beginning, top ellie, reader is sorta a power bottom, 4.2k words

❥a/n: This was supposed to be a really short fic but i went crazy (horny) and wrote all of this lmfao. hope u enjoy! <3

The basement was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a flickering lamp in the corner and the soft glow of the streetlights seeping through a small, grime-covered window. You could hear the muffled hum of the world outside, distant enough to feel like you were the only two people left in the world. The scent of old wood and dust filled the air, mixing with the sharp tang of alcohol from the half-empty bottle of whiskey resting between you and Ellie.

Ellie was leaning back against the basement couch, cheeks flushed and eyes hazy from the booze. You both were sprawled out on the floor, legs tangled as you reached for the bottle once again. Laughter bounced off the walls as Ellie threw her hands up in defeat.

“You're really bad at this game,” you teased, shifting a little closer to her. “But hey, maybe you'll catch me in a lie this time.”

Ellie cleared her throat, her nervous energy spilling over as she sat up straighter. “Oh, yeah, for sure. I got you this time,” she mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck like she always did when she was flustered.

You smirked, knowing exactly how to make her squirm. “Alright, here goes. I've broken my arm twice, I can speak a bit of French, and… two years ago, I got nipple piercings that no one knows about.”

Ellie's face went bright red, her hand freezing halfway to the bottle. She blinked at you, then laughed nervously. “Wait, what?”

You leaned in slightly, watching her face closely as you spoke. “You heard me. Nipple piercings. Two years ago.” You let the words hang there, watching as Ellie shifted awkwardly, her gaze quickly darting to your chest before settling on your eyes.

“Th-that's gotta be the lie,” Ellie stammered, clearly flustered as she fidgeted with the label on the whiskey bottle. “Right? I mean, I…you wouldn't…would you?”

You gave her a sly smile, brushing your leg against hers just enough to get her attention. "Guess you'll have to figure that out, huh?"

Ellie swallowed hard, her cheeks burning as she tried to come up with something witty in response, but all she managed was an awkward laugh. "I mean... y-you're messing with me, right?"

You leaned back, letting your gaze linger on her for a moment longer than necessary. "Maybe I am," you said with a shrug. "Or maybe you just don't know me as well as you think you do."

Ellie looked like she was about to implode, her mind racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out if you were hitting on her or just playing the game. You could see it written all over her face—the nervousness, the uncertainty—and it only made you grin wider. She had no idea how into her you really were, and it was almost too fun watching her try to piece it together.

Ellie shifted nervously, clearly out of her element as her eyes flicked between you and the bottle, as if it might give her some kind of answer.

“Is that your final guess?” you asked, leaning in, your voice teasing as you watched her squirm.

Ellie swallowed hard, her mouth dry. “Yeah… yeah, that’s my final guess. The piercings, they’ve got to be the lie,” she said, but there was hesitation in her voice, like she wasn’t quite convinced.

You smirked, biting back a laugh. “Wrong.”

Ellie’s eyes went wide, her face an even deeper shade of red. “What? No way. You’re messing with me.”

“Nope.” You shrugged, acting casual as you leaned back. “That was a truth.”

Ellie blinked, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “There’s no way. You’re just messing with me to screw me up. I don’t believe you.”

You leaned in, your voice dropping to a seductive whisper. “You wanna check for yourself?”

Ellie’s eyes went impossibly wider, her throat bobbing as she swallowed nervously. “I—I… uh, what?” Her voice cracked, and she quickly looked away, fidgeting with the bottle in her lap like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

You couldn’t help but laugh, watching her completely unravel. “Relax, I’m kidding,” you teased, though the glint in your eye said otherwise. “Unless… you really want to know.”

Ellie’s whole face burned, and you could practically hear her heartbeat from where you sat. She stammered, her words falling over themselves. “I—no, I mean—wait, are you actually…”

You bit your lip, amused by how lost she was. “Nah, I’ll just show you. Wouldn’t want you losing sleep over it.”

Before Ellie could stammer out another response, your shirt was over your head and thrown across the room. Her eyes were glued to your chest as you reached back to unclasp your lacy red bra.

Ellie's breath hitched as your bra fell to the floor, revealing the small silver barbells glinting under the flickering light. For a second, she just stared, her mouth slightly open, completely frozen in place. You could see her trying to form words, but nothing came out.

"Believe me now?" you asked, voice teasing as you leaned in, your chest close enough to brush against her arm.

Ellie blinked rapidly, her face bright red, looking like she might pass out from sheer embarrassment. "Holy shit," she muttered under her breath, finally managing to say something, though it sounded more like a dazed confession than an actual response.

You chuckled softly, leaning back just enough to give her some space but still close enough to keep her flustered. "Told you it was the truth."

Ellie's gaze flickered up to meet yours, her expression somewhere between awe and disbelief. "I—I mean... yeah, l believe you now." She rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly, her usual nervous tic in full force as she fumbled to find the right words. "I just didn't expect you to actually... show me."

You grinned, clearly enjoying the effect you had on her. "Well, I'm not one to back down from a challenge," you said lightly, your voice still laced with that teasing edge.

Ellie let out a nervous laugh, her eyes darting away from you as she tried to regain some composure. "Yeah, uh... challenge. Right." She was flustered beyond belief, and it was almost too cute how lost she looked.

Ellie's eyes were still glued to your chest, her breath shallow and uneven. You could feel the tension between you both, thick and electric in the dimly lit basement. The way she looked at you, completely entranced, sent a thrill through you.

"You can touch them if you want," you said softly, the invitation hanging in the air between you.

Ellie's head jerked up, her eyes wide and unsure. "I-uh, what?" She stammered, clearly caught off guard by your offer.

You smirked, brushing her knee gently with yours. "You heard me."

Ellie swallowed hard, her face burning even brighter. "Does it... does it hurt?"

You shook your head slightly, your voice dropping lower. "It hurt when I first got them, but now..." You leaned in, letting the words roll off your tongue, "...now it just feels good."

Ellie's eyes flickered back to your chest, her hand twitching like she was debating with herself. She hesitated, nervous, her fingers hovering near her lap as if she wasn't sure what to do. You could see the uncertainty in her, but also the undeniable pull.

Sensing her apprehension, you crawled closer to her, swinging your leg over one of her thighs so you could straddle it. "It's okay," you whispered, reassuring her. "I don't bite... unless you want me to."

That seemed to snap something in Ellie. She gave a shaky laugh, her hand finally reaching out, her fingers brushing tentatively over your skin. Her touch was featherlight at first, careful, like she wasn't sure if this was real or not.

"See? Doesn't hurt," you murmured, your voice soothing, though your heart was racing with excitement.

Ellie's fingers, still a little shaky, began to trace the outline of your piercings, her touch growing bolder as she got used to the sensation. You watched her face, the mixture of fascination and nervousness playing across her features. Her thumb brushed against one of the barbells, and you couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped your lips.

Ellie's eyes flickered up to meet yours, her breath catching at the sound. "Did I–was that okay?" she asked, her voice low and breathless, like she couldn't believe what was happening.

You smiled, biting your lip as you nodded. "Yeah, Ellie. That feels good."

Hearing that seemed to give her a little more confidence. She exhaled slowly, her fingers moving with more purpose now, gently rolling one of the piercings between her thumb and forefinger. The sensation sent a spark of pleasure through you, your body reacting to her touch in ways you knew she couldn't miss.

Her other hand hesitantly joined in, tracing the other barbell, her eyes locked on yours as if she was watching your every reaction, unsure but so eager to please. You could feel your heartbeat quicken, the warmth of her hands sending waves of heat through your body.

"Does this...feel good?" Ellie's voice was a low rasp, her own face flushed, eyes wide with anticipation.

"It feels really good," you whispered, your voice heavy with the tension between you. You arched your back slightly, pressing into her touch as her hands grew more confident, playing with your piercings in a way that had your breath hitching.

Ellie swallowed hard, her gaze dipping to your chest again as her hands continued to explore, experimenting with different pressures, watching your reactions closely. Her nervous energy was still there, but there was something more-something hungry in the way her touch lingered now, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

You could feel her pulse racing, her breath hot and shallow as her fingers tugged gently at the piercings, testing the waters. Every touch sent shivers down your spine, your skin alive under her hands. You leaned in, lips brushing her ear as you whispered, "You're doing so good, Ellie."

Her breath hitched at your words, and she stifled a groan as her hands moved more boldly now, her fingers teasing and pulling in a way that had your body arching toward her, craving more of her touch.

The air between you was electric, the playful teasing long forgotten, replaced by something far more intense. Ellie's lips parted, her breath coming in ragged bursts as she leaned in closer, her body pressed against yours, her hands still playing with your piercings like she couldn't get enough.

Ellie's hands were still moving over your chest, her touch growing more assured with each passing second, but there was still a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. She swallowed, clearly trying to steady herself before she spoke again. Her voice was barely a whisper, thick with uncertainty and need. "Can I... can I try with... my mouth?"

You felt a surge of heat wash over you at her request, her shy stammer only adding to the electric charge between you. "Yeah," you breathed, your voice soft but encouraging as you straddled her thigh, the fabric of her jeans pressing between your legs as you ground down slightly. "Go ahead, Ellie."

Her gaze flickered up to yours, a mixture of nerves and excitement, before she leaned in. Her lips hovered just above your skin for a moment, as if she was gathering the courage, and then you felt the soft brush of her mouth against your nipple. Her tongue flicked out, gently grazing the piercing, and the sensation made your breath hitch.

Ellie's hands settled on your hips, steadying herself–and you–as she grew more confident. Her mouth closed over the sensitive skin, her lips soft but eager as she took one of the piercings into her mouth, tugging gently with her teeth. You couldn't stop the moan that slipped out, your hands instinctively burying themselves in her hair, holding her closer as the pleasure intensified.

At the same time, your hips moved against her thigh, the friction of her jeans sending jolts of pleasure through you with every slow grind. Ellie groaned against your chest, clearly feeling the pressure of your body against her leg, her mouth working more fervently now, her tongue swirling around the piercing before she tugged again, harder this time.

You gasped, your fingers tightening in her hair, your hips pressing down harder on her thigh. "Ellie.." you whispered, your breath coming in shallow pants as the sensations built inside you, a delicious mix of her mouth on your chest and the steady pressure between your legs.

Ellie pulled back for just a second, her lips slick and flushed as she looked up at you. Her eyes were dark with lust, her breath ragged. "Is this... is this good?" she asked, her voice low and strained, like she was trying to hold herself together.

You bit your lip, your head tilting back as another wave of pleasure washed over you. "So good," you murmured, grinding down on her harder, urging her to keep going. "Don't stop."

With a renewed sense of determination, Ellie dove back in, her mouth working over your chest with more confidence, her hands gripping your hips tighter as you rocked against her. Each pull of her lips sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, mixing with the rhythmic grind of your hips on her thigh. The heat between you was overwhelming, every touch and movement amplifying the tension until it felt like you might explode.

With a sudden surge of confidence, Ellie gripped your hips and gently pushed you back, guiding you to the floor beneath her. You gasped in surprise but quickly surrendered to her touch, your heart racing as you felt the cool floor against your skin.

Her hands moved with purpose, brushing up your thighs as she shifted to hover over you. The flickering lamp cast shadows over her flushed face, illuminating the desire in her eyes. "You okay?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty creeping back into her voice, but it was mixed with a hunger that made your stomach flutter.

"Yeah, Ellie. Just... keep going," you encouraged, feeling a thrill rush through you as her fingers slipped beneath the hem of your skirt, inching higher.

She hesitated for just a moment, her fingers brushing against your skin, and then she boldly lifted your skirt, exposing your thighs. The rush of cool air made you shiver as her fingertips danced closer to where you needed her most.

Ellie hesitated for just a moment before her determination surged back. With a swift motion, she shifted to kneel between your legs, a glint of mischief in her eyes. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your skin, as she pushed your panties to the side and used her fingers to part you slightly, allowing her to find that sweet spot.

"Can I... try something?" she asked, looking up at you with a mix of eagerness and uncertainty.

"Yeah, please," you urged, your voice barely above a whisper, the heat pooling in your core.

With a teasing smile, Ellie brought her mouth back to your piercing, her tongue swirling around the metal as she simultaneously slid two fingers into you, pushing deeper as she began to stroke your sensitive spot. A gasp escaped your lips, the combination of sensations causing your body to arch instinctively toward her.

"Ellie!" you cried out, the heat of her mouth and the skillful movements of her fingers driving you wild. She watched you closely, her own excitement evident as she felt you tighten around her.

"Just relax," she murmured, her voice vibrating against you as she continued her exploration, her fingers working in and out while her mouth kept teasing your piercings. You could hardly keep still, your hips moving in rhythm with her fingers as waves of pleasure washed over you.

As Ellie continued to work her magic, she shifted her focus, her fingers moving more deliberately to target your clit while her mouth lavished attention on your piercings. The combination of sensations sent shockwaves through your body, making you writhe beneath her.

"Ellie, that feels so good," you gasped, lost in the bliss of her touch.

With every flick of her tongue and stroke of her fingers, the tension inside you built higher, the sweet pressure almost unbearable. "Just let go," Ellie encouraged, her voice low and sultry, her determination evident as she worked tirelessly to bring you to the edge.

And then, with a final flick of her fingers, you shattered, your body arching off the ground as pleasure washed over you in waves. "Ellie!" you cried out, your voice a mixture of ecstasy and disbelief at how incredible it felt.

Ellie didn't waste a second; she licked her fingers clean, a devilish grin spreading across her face. "Fuck, you taste so good baby," she said, her eyes dark with hunger. "I need more."

Before you could respond, she began kissing her way down your body, trailing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin until she reached your thighs. She quickly removed your skirt and panties, leaving your slick cunt bare before her. Her fingers gripped your hips as she pulled you closer, her breath warm against you as she settled between your legs.

With expert precision, Ellie took her time, her tongue swirling around your clit, teasing and sucking in just the right way. Each movement sent shivers down your spine, your body instinctively responding to her every touch. "Ellie, yes!" you gasped, the sensations quickly building again.

She worked you closer to another peak, her eyes locked on yours, filled with both mischief and desire. You could feel the pressure mounting, a familiar tightening in your core as she expertly brought you to the edge once more.

With one final flick of her tongue, you let go again, your body trembling and shuddering beneath her as another orgasm washed over you. "God, Ellie!" you cried, the intensity leaving you breathless.

Ellie pulled back, wiping her mouth and grinning widely. "You really know how to make a girl happy," she teased, but you could see the need in her eyes, an unspoken desire lingering between you.

"Please," you breathed, your voice a husky whisper, "let me get you off." You could feel the heat pooling in your core again as the idea electrified you.

She looked at you, surprise flickering across her face before it shifted to a playful smirk. "You sure?" she asked, her voice low, excitement dancing in her eyes.

"Absolutely," you replied, determination flooding your veins.

With a swift motion, you shifted positions, settling yourself beside her.

You locked eyes, a silent agreement passing between you as you straddled her thigh, your fingers dancing down her body.

You guided her to open her legs wider, your body buzzing with anticipation. As you began to grind against her, the friction of your bodies sent waves of pleasure radiating between you. "Just like that," Ellie encouraged, her breath hitching as you pressed down against her.

Your movements grew bolder, your hands exploring the curves of her body as you brought your lips to hers, kissing her hungrily. You could feel the heat rising between you, the thrill of the moment igniting every nerve.

"Fuck, you're riding me so good, baby," Ellie rasped, her voice raw with need as her hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements. You ground down against her, the heat between your bodies almost unbearable as your slickness coated her, making each slide of your hips easier, smoother, and more desperate.

The wetness between your thighs mixed with hers, the sensation of your clits brushing together sending shivers through your entire body. Each movement was electric, your hips finding a perfect rhythm as you ground down harder, the friction driving you both wild.

Ellie's hands slid up your sides, rough fingertips grazing your skin before she cupped your breasts. Her thumbs brushed over your nipple piercings again, flicking them just right, making you gasp. "You like that?" she murmured, her voice thick with desire as she tugged gently on the metal, your nipples hardening under her touch.

Your body trembled as you pressed your chest further into her hands, the pleasure shooting through you with every little tug and pinch. Meanwhile, your hips rocked faster, sliding your wetness against hers in perfect rhythm.

The slick sounds of your bodies moving together filled the air, each grind pushing you closer to the edge.

Ellie's hips began bucking up to meet yours, desperate and needy as your clits rubbed together again, sending sparks of pleasure racing through you.

"Fuck, Ellie," you moaned, grinding harder as the pressure between your legs built to an overwhelming peak. You could feel her trembling beneath you, her breath coming in ragged gasps, matching your own.

Your wetness coated her thigh, smearing across both of your bodies as you moved together, the friction just right. Every grind of your hips made your clits brush against each other, the pleasure intensifying with each slick, desperate slide. Ellie groaned beneath you, her hands moving back down to grip your waist, pulling you harder against her.

You could feel her arousal mixing with yours, the heat between you almost unbearable. "God, you feel so fucking good," Ellie groaned, her voice thick with lust as she bucked her hips up to meet yours, the slickness between you making each grind smoother, more desperate.

The tension in your core was building quickly, winding tighter and tighter with every movement. Ellie's fingers dug into your hips, guiding you as you rocked against her, the pressure of your clits rubbing together sending you hurtling toward the edge.

Your body trembled as you leaned forward, bracing yourself on her chest.

Ellie took the opportunity to reach up, tugging at your nipple piercings again, sending sharp pleasure shooting through your body. "I love watching you ride me," she rasped, her voice breathless as she pinched your nipples harder, making you gasp.

The combined sensation of her rough hands on your chest and the relentless friction between your legs was too much. Your hips bucked wildly, grinding down against her as your orgasm slammed into you. "Fuck, Ellie," you cried out, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure crashed through you, your slickness dripping down her thigh as you came.

Ellie groaned, her own body trembling as she watched you fall apart above her, your hips still moving, slower now, but still grinding against her, drawing out every last bit of your release.

As you came down from your high, Ellie's hands moved to your waist again, guiding your hips back into a steady rhythm. You could feel her need, the way her body trembled beneath yours, the slickness between you making it impossible to stop.

You leaned forward, capturing her lips in a heated kiss as your hips started moving again, faster this time, the friction of your clits rubbing together driving both of you wild. "You're so wet," you whispered against her mouth, your breath ragged as you rocked your hips down harder, desperate to feel her come undone beneath you.

Ellie groaned into your mouth, her hands gripping your waist even tighter as she bucked her hips up to meet yours. "Fuck, you feel so good," she gasped, her voice breaking as the pleasure became too much to bear. "Keep going, baby, don't stop."

Your bodies moved together, faster and faster, the slick sound of your wetness mixing with hers filling the room. Every grind of your hips made your clits brush against each other, sending sparks of pleasure through you both. The heat between your thighs was almost unbearable, the need to push her over the edge driving you harder, faster.

Ellie's breath hitched, her body tensing beneath yours as her orgasm built. "I'm so close," she groaned, her voice shaky as her hips bucked up wildly. You could feel her trembling, her body on the verge of release, and you ground down harder, determined to push her over the edge.

With one final grind, Ellie's body tensed, her back arching as she came with a shuddering moan. Her hands gripped your hips so hard it almost hurt, pulling you down against her as her orgasm washed over her, her body trembling beneath yours.

You slowed your movements, rocking gently against her as she came down from her high, her breath ragged and uneven. You pressed your forehead against hers, both of you panting, your bodies slick with sweat and arousal as the last waves of pleasure faded away.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room your heavy breathing. Then Ellie let out a breathless laugh, pulling you down into a soft, lazy kiss. "Fuck," she whispered, her voice still thick with pleasure. "That was incredible." You smiled against her lips, your body still trembling from the intensity of it all.

"You're pretty incredible yourself," you teased, pressing one last kiss to her lips before collapsing onto the floor beside her, completely spent.

[blindmagdalena]

You Let Me Complicate You

18+ 4k homelander x f!reader. bickering, post-breakup sex, dubcon/coercion, angst, jealousy, emotional manipulation, implied murder, stalking, boundary smashing, breaking and entering, cunnilingus, penetrative sex. read on AO3. written as a follow-up to the breakup, but can be read as a standalone. gif credit.

Breaking up with Homelander is... complicated. After all, it is a god that loves you.

"What do I taste like?" You asked him once, drunk on pleasure and those early honeymoon days of loving him. He’d been slow to answer, thinking it over. "Love," he said at last. "Like you love me." You wonder if that holds true. If he can still taste love in you. If that’s why he’s so eager to devour you, or if the absence of it has made him even hungrier.

Homelander is an aberration.

Stronger than a hundred men, faster than a bullet and sharp as a tack all paired with a teaspoon’s depth of emotional maturity. He’s volatile, twisted, broken in ways no amount of therapy could ever hope to duct tape back together. He’s no better off than a dog that bites to kill. No matter how he got to this point, the best thing for him–for the world–would be to put him down by any means necessary.

Too bad you can’t seem to stop fucking him.

It’s late when you hear the front door open with a distinct crack. You’re sprawled out on the couch in the living room, one leg draped lazily over the armrest. What comes next is no surprise to you–a shock of primary colors filling the narrow doorway, a handsome face made ghoulish by the haunting light of the television in an otherwise dark room.

“You nailed the door shut,” Homelander says, the inflection of his voice somewhere between a question and a statement.

“Because you broke it,” you throw back, a stale Twizzler balanced between your lips. It had tasted good enough when you started eating it, but now–in his presence–the sweetness of it has turned sour.

“You changed the locks,” he says with a light shrug, cape swaying as he meanders towards you. “My key didn’t work.”

“Your key? Stealing a key to my house does not make it your key,” you say tersely, lifting your foot to press it firmly to his thigh, stopping him in his tracks. 

He glances down, a mirthless smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before he catches your ankle in his gloved hand, yanking you down the couch so suddenly you lose your Twizzler to the floor with a gasp. It’s one thing to know that Homelander has strength enough to throw cars like frisbees. It’s another to feel it. It sends a rush of adrenaline through you like a jolt, followed swiftly by something hotter low in your naval.

“Y’know, I’ve been thinking,” he begins, dropping your ankle. He lifts his knee and slots it between your legs, his opposite boot on the floor, his hand braced on the back of the couch, pinning you in place.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” you cut in dryly, moving to shift up the couch, away from him. He snatches your shoulder, halting you with ease. His thumb strokes your skin idly, goosebumps erupting beneath his touch.

“And I’ve realized that this whole… thing between you and I, this ‘will they, won’t they,’ ” he says, bobbing his head side to side. “It’s getting stale. Don’t you think it’s about time we progressed the plot?” He asks, leaning in close.

You brace your hand against his chest, holding him in place as ineffectually as you did earlier. You both know it’s all a game. It’s all pretense. There had been fondness between you once–love, even–but you’re done with that now. You have to be done with it, or Homelander will swallow you whole. He’s a black pit, a murderer, and his need knows no end. He’ll destroy you and everything you know and love if he thinks it’ll satiate that need.

You’ve lost enough. You can’t afford to lose any more of yourself to him.

“Jesus Christ, you even think in TV script,” you say, pushing on his chest. He leans back, but not by much. It sends a terrible little chill down your spine. “I’m starting to think the only thing that might actually kill you is an original thought.”

His eyes narrow and his bright white teeth flash predatorily in the darkness. “You’re lucky I haven’t broken your neck,” he says, hand slipping from your shoulder to your throat. The sharp press of his thumb into your windpipe steals your breath, makes your thighs tighten on either side of his leg snug between yours. His lips split into an unkind grin. “Or maybe not. You’d probably like that.”

“You’re disgusting,” you spit, gripping his wrist with your other hand. Your pulse is starting to throb against the leather of his glove. He moves his thumb from your windpipe to your jaw and turns your head away, leaning in with a deep, pointed inhale along your neck.

“Is that why your hormones are going haywire? Because I disgust you?” He asks, grinding his thigh between your legs in a way that makes you gasp. “Y’know, given how full of it you are, I was sure I’d smell the bullshit on you. But all I smell… is how fucking wet you are.”

He grabs your hip and the memories come to you like muscle memory. How good it feels to be gripped and fucked and loved by someone beyond your comprehension. To feel as if you’ve stopped the world turning and called the sun itself to shine on you alone.

You twist your chin out of his grip and level him with a heated stare. “I hate you,” you hiss, grasping for the knife you know will twist the deepest. 

It works for a second, his smug expression faltering, but only for an instant. His jaw sets, and his lips curl into that same unkind smile. “C’mon, babe,” he coos, the intimate familiarity woven into that pet name making your skin crawl. “We both know that I can always tell when you’re lying.”

He kisses you like he always has. Like you belong to him. In a way, you suppose you always will. There’s nothing you can do to pry your throat from Homelander’s jaws. Nowhere you can run that he won’t eventually find you. Like quicksand, the more you fight, the tighter he clamps down. Truth be told, though, that isn’t the worst of it. The worst of it is that the tighter he grips you, the less you want to fight him.

His tongue slithers into your mouth like a serpent into the garden and you bite down hard. While pliant between your teeth, the flesh doesn’t yield. It never will. He never will. Instead he moans a little chuckle that fades into a rumble against your lips.

“That how it’s gonna be?” He asks, the words rasped into your mouth. “Y’wanna bite and claw? Play hard to get?” He laughs, the sound of it reedy and light, like it’s all a silly little game of make-believe. “I can do that.”

He reeks of his own desperation for what he says to be true. More than anything, he wants to dress up his desires as yours. He wants to believe he’s giving you what you want. That way, he can trick himself into believing you need him.

He bites the middle tip of his glove and tugs it off with his teeth, tossing it aside. His bare thumb brushes your lip, smearing his spit and yours. “I saw you with that fucking loser,” he says, the airiness suddenly gone from his voice.

Your stomach drops. Two days ago you’d been with a man. You’d been so desperate to forget him that night that anyone would have done the job. You stumbled out with some nobody from the bar who’d been good enough for a sloppy makeout session in the back of his truck, but not good enough to bring home. It hadn’t ended well.

How close of an eye is Homelander keeping on you?

“I’d be angry if it hadn’t been so fuckin’ pathetic,” he says through his teeth.

“Liar,” you say tightly. You feel his fury in the tension of his body. He’s pissed that you’d seek this out anywhere else. As if he still has a claim over your body. Your pleasure.

His eyes flash up to yours. He sneers, pushing his thumb between your lips. “I watched you bite his lip until he bled. I watched him slap you,” he says, dragging the pad of his thumb along the ridges of your bottom teeth. The memories come to you as he speaks them, every moment of it made bleary by alcohol. “You wanted it rough, but he couldn’t handle you, could he? Because you’re used to something better. You’re used to a god.”

You sneer right back at him, yanking your head to the side, his thumb slipping from between your lips. “Could you be any more in love with yourself? Go fuck yours-”

“I still had to kill him, of course,” he continues nonchalantly, grinding your thoughts to a screeching halt. He laughs humorlessly. “For kissing you. And, well–for everything else, obviously. Slapping you,” he says, brushing his knuckles down your cheek. The same one the man had struck. “Humping your leg like a fucking dog.”

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, throat tight. Bile burns at the back of it. All you wanted was to get away from this. The blood, the horror of it. Yet no matter what you do to dissuade him, he brings death to your doorstep. “You have everything. You could have anyone. Why are you–”

“Because I want you,” he hisses, words so sharp his sharp teeth snap together. “Because I love you, and that’s what you do when you love someone,” he says. You can feel the accusation building in his words. “You don’t give up on them. And if that means cleaning up every dirty little mistake you make,” he says softly, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “So be it.” 

A cold shiver rolls down your spine. You stare woundedly at him, lips parted, brows pinched together, the misery of it all etched into every line of your face. He stares at you in turn, and after a beat, his own hard expression softens.

“Hey, hey,” he says, the heat of his breath a ghostly kiss on your lips. “It’s okay,” he says, brushing the tip of your nose with his. “I forgive you.”

He kisses you again, more tender now. Your eyes prickle with tears. His gentleness hurts so much more than his violence. It disarms you, carries you to a time when things were simpler between you. Sweeter and warmer. 

Homelander makes the world feel wonderful and dangerous, like standing in the middle of an electric storm. Being loved by him is the feeling of having your ribs cracked open, your heart cradled in his bare hands, possessive and bloody. What had been thrilling grew stifling, a feeling you realize now never truly went away.

He’s inescapable, literally and figuratively. Even when he isn’t inviting himself into your home or lurking in the periphery of your vision, Vought’s hero is plastered on every billboard and screen in the city. You haven't been able to breathe without inhaling the thick miasma of him.

Tears roll down to your temples as you kiss him back, both hands fisted in his soft hair, tugging. He makes a pleased little sound against your lips, teeth grazing your bottom lip. He’s always kissed like a man possessed–like every brush of your lips is a drop of salvation–but the hunger he’s developed since you tried to leave him is unparalleled. He kisses you like he means to devour you whole.

You bite back a sob, but the hiccuped noise of it catches his attention nonetheless. He breaks from you, looking down at you with a feverish mix of yearning, impatience and something that almost resembles pity, which might be the closest thing he knows to sympathy.

“Hey,” he coos, dusting your jaw with feather light kisses. “Don’t cry.”

“It’s awful,” you choke out.

“What is?”

“Your love.”

“I know,” he says after a prolonged pause. “It’s all I know.”

You look at him, the image of him bleary through your tears. There’s a morose resignation in his ocean-storm eyes, a distance that makes him seem far, far away from you, even as you taste the heat of his breath on your lips.

Focus returns to his gaze, and suddenly he’s present again. “It’s all I know,” he says again, his tone made of wood, stiff and splintering.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lift your palm to his cheek, hovering just shy of touching. He’s pulled to it like a magnet, nuzzling into your palm, eyes closing. His hand slides down the familiar slopes of your body, settling at your hip, where his fingertips sink in like claws, the pressure of them shy. For as vicious as things have gotten between you, he’s never hurt you. A fact he lords over you as if he should be applauded for it.

I love you more than anything. You know that, right? That I would never do anything to hurt you? He’d asked you during that first fight. When everything went wrong. 

You’d only been able to nod then, trapped with a man you didn’t recognize wearing the face of the man you loved.

That’s right. Of course you do. Because if I wanted to hurt you, I would have. It would have been easy, huh?

Despite how desperately you’ve tried to fortify yourself against him, it’s still so easy.

Homelander is an aberration, but so too is he a man, and there was a time when the man was all that you saw. When the monster at the core of him reared its head, bloody and unrepentant, that became all you could see in him. Now, the two are so irrevocably tangled in the sinew of the other, you’re never sure which you’re looking at.

“I miss you,” you confess to the man in him, voice so soft only his ears possibly could have discerned the words. As if you can hide the words from the monster lurking behind if you speak them quietly enough. 

He looks as confused as your own aching heart. “I’m here,” he says, everything in his tone willing you to believe it. He doesn’t understand that you miss who he was before you knew what he was.

A mournful noise swells in your chest, but he kisses you before it can escape. “I’m here,” he says again, the hand at your hip turning into a fist in the fabric of your clothes, tearing them at the seams. “I’ll make you feel better,” he says between presses of his lips, hungry and rushing, like he can outspeed your miserable grief. “Let me make you feel good.”

Sex has always been an avenue of redemption for Homelander. Whether he’s frustrated, anxious, wounded or a combination of them all, he’s sought to remedy it through a good orgasm. He treats you as though the notion should hold true for you: the fight doesn’t count so long as he makes you come.

Yet again, you’re left stricken by him. As you have a dozen times before, all you can do is nod. Deep in your core, you know he’s right. He can make you forget this horrible ache in yourself, the grief and the fear. He can take you away to the dream you’d lived before you met the beast in his shadow. 

Coherent thought turns to water slipping between the cracks of your mind as Homelander’s bare fingers brush your inner thigh. You suck in a sharp breath that leaves you as a shudder and you clutch at his collar, twisting the fabric, unsure if you mean to push him away or pull him closer.

Homelander makes the choice for you, closing the distance and kissing you too gently, too sweetly. You spur him with your teeth, needing it faster, harder. Needing it to hurt just enough to not feel entirely right. He ignores your prompt, focused wholly on tasting you, on sliding his fingers up into the waiting warmth between your thighs. He presses the pad of his middle finger to your clit, deft and familiar.

You sigh, closing your eyes, ready to lose yourself to the feel of something good. He slides serpentine down your body, kissing you through your shirt, nipping at your skin through the fabric for the way it makes you jump. His lips trail down until they pass the hem of your shirt, finding where he’s stripped you. His mouth is unbearably warm, breath hot huffs on your bare skin, goosebumps erupting everywhere.

He mouths at your hip, sucks the skin dark before trailing further down, leaving a constellation with his lips. The scorching wet heat of his tongue feels like a brand on your clit, replacing his hand with his mouth. 

You thread your fingers into his hair, widening the spread of your legs to allow for the way he shoulders under and between them, lifting your lower half. He nuzzles into the nectary sweetness of you, moaning unabashedly for your familiar taste.

What do I taste like? You asked him once, drunk on pleasure and those early honeymoon days of loving him. Everything about him fascinated you; did his super smell lend itself to super taste? Could he pick out each note of you, dissect your profile into sections?

He���d been slow to answer, thinking it over.

Love, he said at last. Like you love me.

You wonder if that holds true. If he can still taste love in you, if that’s why he’s so eager to devour you, or if the absence of it has made him even hungrier. If he plunges his tongue to the core of you in the hopes he might discover lingering shreds of what the two of you once had.

A moan escapes you. His fingers bite into your thighs, tongue coaxing more. Restraint dissipating, you tighten your grip on his hair and tug, grinding hard against his mouth. He knows the stepping stones of your pleasure as well as you know yourself, knowing just when to suck, when to lick. He’s more relentless than any other man could hope to be, never needing to stop for breath, never succumbing to aching muscles. He maintains a pace that sends you careening so viciously towards release, you give a choking gasp when it hits you, your head thrown back against the couch as euphoric relief rolls through you in waves.

Homelander shrugs out from under your trembling thighs, his mouth slick and shining, eyes predator wide. You’re both panting, silently gauging the other. You’re first to break the standoff, his hunger infectious. You climb onto your knees and grab his shoulders, pushing his back to the couch, straddling him. He keens when you kiss him, an addictive sound that gives you a deceptive sense of power.

He murmurs your name in fervent repetition, dragging his mouth along your skin, inhaling you like a drug. You unbuckle his belt with the ease of experience, unzip his pants and slip your hand inside. Curling your fingers around his cock, you find it already hard and dripping in anticipation.

“Anything you want,” he breathes, the words coming between the prayer-like recitation of your name. “Money, diamonds, anything, I’ll make you a queen,” he says, eyelids fluttering at your touch. He pledges these things like an act of devotion, but you recognize this Faustian bargain for what it is. It will cost you your heart and soul.

“I’ll make you a god,” he moans at a particularly deft twist of your wrist.

Making you come will have to be enough for now.

“Fuck me,” you tell him breathlessly. “The way I like it.”

Like flipping a switch, the dazed pleasure in his eyes sharpens. The corners of his mouth tug, his upper lip twitches, eager tension slipping into his touch as his hands slide up your thighs, grasping your hips. His fingers sink in tight enough to bruise, despite the gentleness of his touch. The immeasurable power lurking within his unassuming frame is a novelty that never wears off, a thrill that shocks you to your core no matter how many times you experience it.

Like a vicious storm, he’s beautiful and terrible in equal measure. Caught in the eye of his maelstrom, the only thing left for you to do is weather him.

He guides you down onto his cock in one slow, agonizing pull. Even with his spit and your orgasm easing the way, it’s too much all at once. Relishing the aching burn of being split apart by him, you make a noise that gives him pause. You don’t let him stop. You brace your hands on his shoulders and lift off of him almost entirely before sinking back down deeper than you had before, wringing a moan from him in turn.

Homelander’s fingers dig securely into your back as your bodies slot together and find an old, familiar rhythm. By now he knows exactly the angle to take to best pleasure you. You let out a shaky sigh at the warmth that spreads through you, the pressure of your climax building, his heat sinking into you like the light of the sun itself.

You’re used to a god.

You cup his face and kiss him. You bite his lip until you should taste blood. You dig your nails into his skin so hard your knuckles ache. If he notices it, he’s only pleased by it.

“I’d move heaven and hell for you,” he swears between kisses, ripping the shirt from your body. The cool air hits your damp, hot skin like a shock. 

“I don’t want them,” you say, voice catching on one of his sharp and sudden thrusts. He’s close. You can feel it in the tightness of his muscles, in the erratic, merciless way he drives into you.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says, voice reedy, tight. He kisses down your chest, scrapes his teeth over the swell of your breasts. “They’re yours. It’s all yours. I’m yours.”

Those words should hit you like a prison sentence, but they don’t.

They make you come.

Homelander holds you tightly as he, too, breaks into pieces, filling you with light and heat. He chokes more promises against your skin, kisses the salt from your skin and licks it greedily from his lips. You spin in place in his arms, dizzy on your own orgasm, riding out the aftershocks with his cock throbbing against the quiver of your cunt.

For a long while there’s nothing but the sound of your breaths and the distant din of the television. The tremors wracking your body gradually fade, and the chill of the open air begins to set in.

Homelander holds you tight as the sweat on your skin cools. He kisses a trail from your neck to your shoulder, nuzzling there before he rests his head down, face tucked into the crook of your neck. You feel wrung dry, eyelids heavy. You card your fingers absently through his hair, body boneless against his. Your eyes ache from crying, but you don’t mind it. Strung out like this, the aches left in the wake of pain and pleasure both feel equally good.

“It’s late,” he says warmly, a smile in his tone. He sounds lovesick, the way you both did once upon a time. Back then, you thought you knew every dark corner of his insatiable heart. “We should sleep.”

“Okay,” you agree, voice frayed. He lifts you gingerly from his lap, adjusting to cradle your naked body to his chest. Despite how Homelander unspools himself before you, you’re always the one left reduced. Bare and vulnerable both physically and emotionally. You slip your arms around his neck as he stands, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I could take you to the tower,” he whispers, sending a chill down your spine. “My bed’s bigger.”

“No,” you say, remembering a door you cannot reach, no matter how many times you grasp for it, and the god’s hands that sent you spinning. He’s already so capable of turning your home into a prison. You’re not sure you’d ever escape his penthouse. “I want mine.”

Perhaps the most terrible fact of all is that Homelander is neither a god nor a monster. 

He is simply a man without limitation.

“Sure,” he says, kissing your cheek. The touch lingers, dripping with his adoration. “Anything you want.”

So long as it includes him.

[okwonyo]

（ 标题 ） STRAWBERRY HEAD.

PREC𝒾S ⠀⟡​⠀a guy with a fun costume flirts with you at a party.

( 엔하이픈 희승 ) ୨୧ f .. r 12OO fluff meet cute ── flirting skinship ⠀ ｡｡ ⠀ recue𝒾l

지아 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒ㅤ i am not leaving tumblr everrr don’t worry, luvdolls 💌

( ˊᗜˋreblogs&feedbacks · C𝑙𝑖CK )

it always ends up the same. no matter what the conversation is, no matter how it began or where; it always ends up with the same conclusion. why don’t you have a boyfriend, yet?

as always, you groan while tilting your face to the ceiling. like a tradition, it is like you are begging a superior being to end your misery now and just take you before they all start to recall all your failed dates and talking stage over the past few months. it is not like they are that many, anyway.

you can try to tell each one of the people surrounding you that you are not interested in a relationship, that you think boys are fun to mess with but truly useless and that you are fine on your own— they never listen.

you successfully disappear amongst the crowd of diverse book, movie and game characters— and even … fruits? — costumes to get a drink. suddenly feeling very thirsty. 

no one notices you, too hang on debating on your love life when you are not even there to begin with.

pouring something into your glass, you feel someone standing a bit too close to you. 

“hey,” a voice greets you loudly. making your heart jump all the way to your stomach. 

you almost giggle as you turn around; a tall, grown man in a bright red hoodie, the same color as his joggings and a strawberry sort of hat wrapped around his head. 

his voice is way too deep to go with his costume.  

a smile tugs your lips, “hi.”

he smiles back. this time with a much much softer, he tells you back, “hi,” he eyes lingers on your face. “you come here often?”

you actually giggle at that, with your face falling towards the ground, with his face following yours, with his gaze never leaving you as he smirks. 

you cross one arm under your chest and plant your free arm’s elbow in your wrist, holding your drink close to your mouth, “please, don’t tell me that line has ever worked for you,” he chuckles at that, “i wouldn’t stand it.” 

the strawberry head shrugs, “tried and tested true for a reason,” then he leans his shoulder against the wall next to you. 

“what’s your name, bambi?” he asks you, biting down his lip as he smiles. 

the nickname comes from your doe makeup and the little tail on your skirt. looks like you are not the only one who makes nicknames. 

you respond while turning to face him, “what is yours?” 

“heeseung,” you admit it, ‘strawberry head’ will be missed but you like this one better. 

“it’s cute,” you nod and he laughs. 

“and yours isn’t?” he immediately says back. he rolls your name on his tongue, dear god . “it suits you well, i like it.”

you huff humoredly, “i will tell my parents you are a fan,” you don’t forget to emphasis on his name and hold your drink up, “heeseung.” 

“i hope i will be able to tell them myself one day,” he teases when you drink, making your choke. 

well, that was quite risky— although, still very smooth, you will give him that. 

your eyes wide and your mouth falls open is a surprised smile. your face must be funny because heeseung lets out a genuine laugh, that goes beyond the sound of the loud music. 

“take me to dinner first!” you tell him, while watching his body vibrate because of his laughter. 

the tall man gets serious pretty quickly after the words leave your mouth, he looks at you like he had you exactly where he wanted. 

“well,” he starts and his smirk is back again. “what about tonight?”

you can only blink at him for a moment. as if it was written on it; you scan his entire face in a hope of an answer. oh. 

“diner?” you ask, he hums. “tonight?” he hums again and your knees weaken a bit. “but we barely know each other!”

“we can get to!” his smile is more than evident in his voice, on his pink lips. “over diner!” 

he got you pressing your lips together and fighting back a smile like a highschool girl. the debate doesn’t take very long in your head, you just need to bite your inner cheek to get yourself to say it. 

strawberry head’s face is full of apprehension and enthusiasm, so much that you wonder who looks the most idiotic between the two of you. 

you sigh, then giggle, “fine, you convinced me.” 

the guy smiles. and after you successfully say goodbye to your friends while avoiding all their questions, everything gets wrapped pretty well. 

soon you stand a few meters away from heeseung’s means of transport.

“you have a bike,” you sound half impressed, half incredulous. 

heeseung, with his strawberry costume, has the audacity to look at you with an utterly shocked and offended expression splashed on his face. he even puts his hand on his heart. 

“am i not cool enough to have one?” he asks as he leans on his motorcycle. 

you take one step closer to him, letting your fingertips run through the leather seat. it is cool, very much so. him, despise his bright red ensemble, too. 

you chuckle, “it just doesn’t match your costume,” you confess and he chuckles. “you are like my very own james dean,” you turn your gaze back to him, “very cool to me.”

his look softens, his hand offered to you and helping you when you get on the passenger sit. he speaks again : 

“i promise to take care of you.” he whispers before letting your hand go gently. “i know a good restaurant a couple of blocks away.” you want to ask him if he doesn’t feel a bit ridiculous wearing this. “are you comfortable?

you thank your past self for choosing a black short instead of a skirt to wear with your black top and boots, “yeah,” you nod. “thank you.”

the wind runs through his hair when he takes off his strawberry head. it takes your breath away instantly. he was already beautiful before but now, this is something beyond and different. 

of course, his hair is pink.

“wouldn’t like to see it flying, would we?” he jokes and you only blink, eyes following him as he gets behind the bike and puts the strawberry in the box. he takes a helmet and comes back to you. 

he gets on the bike, so close to you when he turns around. 

your world completely collapse when he puts the helmet on your head for you, “i only got one,” he speaks, eyes focused on his fingers adjusting the helmet. “didn’t know a pretty girl like you would let me carry her around, you know?” 

thankfully, the tinted visor can hide your blushing face. and your stupid smile. halas— it can’t hide your giggles.

“i saw it in a dream of mine,” you respond when he turns around. you embrace his waist, “i knew the trajectory of you life would be changed tonight.” 

heeseung laughs again.

as he starts the engine you whisper in his ear, “is it the part where you tell me to hold on tight?” 

“i think you are doing that already, doll,” he taps your hand. 

and man, what a ride it was.

ㅤㅤ𓈒ㅤㅤ𓈒 taglist open

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

Perfect. | joel miller x f!reader drabble, 1.6k

Summary: You're full of Joel, but you need him in your mouth, too. Joel delivers.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, SMUT, pwp, rough sex, dom!joel, sub!reader, established relationship, everything that happens is discussed and consensual, cursing, praise kink, size kink, degradation kink, unprotected p in v, minor anal play, nipple play, reader is obsessed with Joel's fingers, hair pulling, (1) ass slapping, manhandling, gagging kink, deepthroat, free use at the end, facial, cum eating, belated aftercare, as always, let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: There's not much to say, this is pure filth, just to cleanse my palette of all the anguish I've brought upon myself! It was written on a whim, so here goes 👀

P.S.: I don't need to remind you how much I hate summaries. I hate them. OK, ily all, bye!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Fuck, you feel so good-” Joel pants between your breasts as you take him deep inside you, riding him, “uuuuuh, perfect- fuck- perfect little pussy-” He’s so big, you feel him in your belly. Your cunt is stretched to its limit but you’re so wet from all the orgasms he pulled out of you before impaling you on his hard cock, that he slides inside you with ease.

He sits on the edge of the bed, his feet touching the soft carpet beneath him. His hands cradle your ass, kneading it and maneuvering you up and down on his thick cock, while you lock your hands around his neck for leverage.

His fingertips glide lightly over your asshole as he holds you open and stretched in his palms, feeling your tight ring of muscle clench on his digits. His lower belly and balls are soaked in your arousal, the hairs on his base glued together by your sticky slick. Your clit rubs against them every time you roll your hips.

Joel runs his big calloused palms up your back, sending shivers down your spine and as you arch your back in pleasure, pushing your breasts closer to his face, he cups them, pinching your hardened nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You look down at his hands as he continues to arouse your tits and the sight makes your clit twitch and your cunt clench around him.

His wet tongue enters the game, flicking it up and down over your erect nubs, sending jolts of pleasure through your body and your thighs begin to tremble both from exhaustion and arousal.

Your fingers run through his hair, tugging gently. He moans as his hand comes down hard on your asscheek. You whimper at the spreading pain, your cunt gushing around his cock, the lewd sounds of your joined sexes only making it more obvious.

You fuck him so good and hard, sucking him deep inside you, you start creaming around him.

You become obsessed with his hands. Big, strong, veined and tanned, with tiny freckles, his fingers calloused and skillful; their expert touch, always bring you to completion.

“I wanna suck your fingers. Please..” you coo into his ear, your hands tugging desperately at the unruly curls at the back of his head.

“Mhhhh..yeah?” Joel turns his head towards you, his aquiline nose pressing against your cheek.

Your grip on him tightens as you continue to bounce on his cock, your voice laced with need and lust, “Please, Joel..”

Joel grants your wish and moves a palm away from your breast but doesn’t bring it to your mouth. Instead, he snakes it between your bodies, collecting your arousal from his slick-coated base. He’s going to be the death of you.

He brings his shiny fingers to your face allowing you to take the lead, go on, then. Milky strings of your slick create little webs connecting his digits together.

You encircle his wrist with your delicate fingers and bring his palm to your nose, smelling the combination of your juices and his musk, making your eyes roll. “You dirty little thing..” he mutters to himself, smirking as he begins to meet your thrusts with his own, the sound of your bodies slapping together filling the otherwise silent room.

You open your eyes and slowly wrap your lips around his middle and ring fingers, swirling your tongue around the tips as you would his cock head. “Fuck.” he grunts through his teeth and you feel him twitch inside you, his breath stuttering. You hollow out your cheeks and suck them into your warm mouth, bobbing your head up and down on them, your eyes never leaving his.

“You like that, babygirl? Suckin’ my fingers like you do my cock?”

“Mmhmm..” you all but moan, your face wrecked from the intensity of the moment.

“Wanna gag on them?” Fuck yes.

“Mhhhh” you whine now, sucking even harder to make a point. He pushes his fingers further into your mouth as his cock pushes deeper into you, stroking that sweet spot that only he can reach. He presses on your gag reflex, making you gag and your eyes water. Your grip on his wrist is firm, making sure his fingers stay in your mouth.

“Such a fuckin’ whore f’ me, aren’t you? Stuffing your holes full ’a me, huh?” You clench violently around him, almost to the point of coming, your breath coming in short pants. He leans forward, his lips brushing your ear “Maybe I should stuff your tight little hole with my other hand, I bet you’d like me in there, too. I bet you’d take me so well, yeah?”

His dirty talk drives you wild and you arch your spine again, moaning around his fingers but he quickly withdraws them, strings of saliva briefly connecting your lips to his tips and you whimper at the loss.

He lowers his slick fingers to tap quickly but gently on your swollen clit. You cry out at the stimulation, waves of electricity rippling through your body. “Gonna come on my cock baby? Yeah..” he breathes, his eyes fixed on your face, contorted with pleasure, “Yeah, you are.”

That does it; you come so hard, spasming around his stiff length, making a mess on his lap. Joel stops fucking into you, staying buried to the hilt inside you, feeling the tight grip of your cunt choking him in rhythm.

“That’s it, thaaat’s it, look at me, baby, fuck- fuckmmphh- this perfect cunt-” Joel keeps guiding you through your orgasm, biting where your neck meets your shoulder.

Your mouth is slack from the force of your release but it feels so empty and before you come down completely you are begging for him. “I need you in my mouth, Joel- I need you to fill me with your cum, please Joel, please..” you beg deliriously.

“Christ, baby.” Joel grits his teeth and pulls you off his lap and his hard member, forcing you onto your knees and shoving his cock into your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your hair. He can't deny you when you beg so prettily.

The taste is heavenly. Tasting yourself on him as you breathe in his heady scent makes your head spin with desire. “That’s it, gag on it.” he says as he focuses on his shaft, veiny, swollen and shiny, disappearing into your warm mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust.

He knows. He sees it all in your eyes, you’re so far gone, surrendered to your pleasure and his. Joel begins to fuck your throat in deep, sharp thrusts, his thighs tensing and bulging under your palms. He rests his hand around your throat, feeling it bulge under his fingertips.

You’re utterly ruined. Your eyes are bloodshot and filled with tears, and your lips are stretched and swollen as you drool around him. Your face is coated in sweat, saliva and your arousal. You can taste your cum and his pre-cum on your tongue, along with every ridge and vein of his erection. You just kneel there, between his legs like a toy, letting him take and give what you both need.

“Fuck, look at you. Look at you, my sweet girl, choking on this big cock.”

You don’t react, you just sit there, pliant and doe-eyed and take it; content and worry-free. You make it so hard for him to hold back any longer. He’s about to come and he has this irresistible urge to ruin that innocent, fucked out look on your face.

He pulls his cock out of your mouth and jerks furiously over your face, his biceps flexing from the effort, his other hand firmly gripping your hair to maneuver you as he pleases. You look up at him in total surrender, tongue out, longing for what’s to come.

His eyebrows are drawn together, his jaw is slack and his mouth is open in that perfect shape that his plush lips form, as he breathes heavily. His broad torso, covered in both yours and his sweat, rises and falls rapidly, his muscles flexing deliciously under his skin.

He comes and comes with a deep, guttural moan all over your face; your forehead, your eyelashes, your nose, your cheeks, your lips, everything is marked by his thick, warm, milky cum. Your cunt flutters at this act of degradation and possession.

“Don’t open them; it’ll sting.” you hear him say while catching his breath, referring to your closed eyes and your cum-coated lashes. You do as he says and wait behind the darkness of your closed eyelids for him to take care of you. But Joel just sits there, admiring his handiwork as he comes down from his high.

You can hear his heavy breathing and the lack of sight is the only thing that makes you realize he’s human, like you. This otherwise divine creature is human.

“Let’s clean you up.” you finally hear him say as you feel his thumb wipe his now cold and dry cum from your skin, press it gently against your lips and feed it to you. You swallow every last drop of it, your tongue warm and welcoming around his digit. He leaves your eyes last.

When he’s finished, he holds the sides of your face with his palms, taking a good look at your submissive form, resting his forehead against yours.

You slowly open your eyes as he plants soft kisses all over your face. “Perfect..” you hear him murmur, more to himself than to you.

“Perfect and mine.”

[missqhughes]

ON THE RECORD | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn hughes x fem!reader

-> contains: dom!quinn, unprotected pnv, m!oral receiving filming sex, physical fighting, bruises and blood, sexual acts and themes, exgf!reader x vince dunn

-> IN WHICH: it’s the first canucks vs. krakens game of the season; and for quinn, this time it’s personal. when y/n’s ex has some words to say about their relationship, he shows both of them exactly who she belongs to.

-> locked in to this fic so hard bc i haven’t written in forever, so i finished writing it in the shower BUT NOT LIKE THAT I PROMISE. also there’s 100% discrepancies in real game play vs in this but please bare with me for the plot. (hope you love it as much as i do!)

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

y/n was never nervous for a game.

but nothing could take away the ache she had leading up to this one.

it had been a while since her and quinn started dating, and he had it out for her ex since she told him all the horrible things he did to her; cheating, lying, hooking up with multiple women during the season, making a fool out of her publicly. however, she begged quinn not to start something; let bygones be bygones and leave it be, arguing how she left it all behind her. he agreed, knowing he didn’t want any bad press on himself; as captain and as someone the media knew wasn’t a fighter in the league.

y/n sat with her friend in the suite , fiddling with the sleeves of quinn’s jersey, eyes following where he was skating; he looked calm, focused, attentive to warm ups.

“dude, you need to calm down,” her friend laughed, noticing her obvious stress, “nothing is going to happen between them, i promise.”

y/n looked at her friend, “i know, i know. it’s just… quinn hates him. i know vince, and i know he can’t help himself from a fight. i’m just worried.”

“think quinn can’t handle himself?”

“no i know he can, i don’t want him risking getting hurt over something as stupid as a fight,” she retorted, gaze still fixed on the ice, “especially with vince.”

“i think you’re being dramatic,” her friend chuckled, taking a sip of her cold beer, “it’s just another game, no big deal.”

y/n sighed, shoulders relaxing a bit, allowing her friend’s reassurance to ease the tension in her body, “yeah, you’re right. just another game,” she said, cheering her cup with hers.

——————————————————————————

CANUCKS 3 - KRAKEN 2 / 3RD PERIOD

quinn was good at keeping his cool.

he had to, after all.

he ignored the glares from vince, his attempt at intimidation lingering through the entire game.

they didn’t come close in contact, until during a time out, quinn heard a voice call out at him,

“y/n here tonight? bet she came just for me,” vince chirped, a sinister, smug look on his face as he skated past him.

quinn stayed stone faced.

further into the final period of the game, he felt a body slam into his, nearly losing his balance and almost falling into the boards,

the whistle blew, and quinn was met yet again with vince’s hubristic stance,

“saw you’re with her now, how’s that goin for you? bet i come up a lot,”

vince spat, quinn skating closer to him, his temper beginning to spark in his body,

“get over it bud. she’s done with you.” quinn said calmly, the other players around the ice not aware of the situation brewing beside them.

“look hughes, you’re not special,”

with each word, the kraken gets closer and closer to quinn, puffing his chest and spewing hate, the hands in his gloves in the beginning of curling into fists,

“it was just you to get over me,”

quinn’s jaw tightened,

vince laughed bitterly, “she’s a slut, you tonight someone else tom-”

vince couldn’t even finish his sentence before quinn shoved him hard, both their gloves dropped as they fought, quinn bringing him down to the ice, delivering blow after blow to his face.

it all happened so fast, y/n heard the pounding on the glass, cheering on a fight, and feeling her stomach twist when she saw 43.

oh god.

none of the refs were able to get quinn off of him alone, his fists not stopping until they were bruised and bloody, matching the wounds on vince’s face.

quinn was panting with anger, face tinted crimson, a light bruise forming on his cheekbone where vince had landed a punch. he couldn’t feel the near splits in his knuckle, too riled with adrenaline to feel anything but rage.

——————————————————————————

fortunately enough, the canucks ended the game with a win, but that didn’t change how fired up y/n knew quinn was going to be when she saw him.

she was allowed to be in the locker room during post game interviews, and she watched nervously as interviewers swarmed and crowded quinn, bombarding him with questions.

he was asked about the fight, detail, if vince had said anything to set him off, the why as a captain, he would start something on the ice.

quinn’s expression remained nothing short of blank, refusing to answer any questions regarding it, pursing his lower lip, “nothing to say about that. keep it about hockey and that’s it.”

after post game reports had finished, y/n waited outside by the doors for quinn to come out.

she didn’t know how he was going to be when he came out, pacing with worry about what the media would twist this game in to.

y/n heard the heavy doors click open, quinn in a lazy rendition of his suit, walking over to her; the bruise on his cheek deeper in color than when she initially saw.

“hey baby,” she said softly, opening her arms for quinn to embrace without hesitation.

“hey,” he replied, tightening their hug before pulling away, “cmon, we need to go home.”

quinn didn’t give y/n a chance to respond when he hooked his hand into hers, leading her to his dark tinted car in the lot.

y/n slid into the passenger seat while quinn loaded his gear into the trunk, she looked out the window until the driver’s side door clicked shut.

she looked over at quinn, an unreadable look on his face; he said nothing, instead putting the car in drive to go back to their shared apartment.

the drive home was silent.

the only sound being the hum of the car engine and their steady breaths. quinn always had his hand on her leg when he drove, but this time his hand was a little higher, his grip a little tighter, all whilst he kept his gaze fixed on the road. y/n’s breath would hitch ever so slightly when his fingers kneaded into her skin.

——————————————————————————

quinn was still quiet even after getting home.

frustrated, y/n spoke out, “quinn, what did vince say to you?” she said with a sigh,

“shit about me. about you. us.” he mumbled, taking off his suit jacket and undoing the black tie he had on.

“so, that’s reason enough to give me the silent treatment all the way home? you’re acting like that was my fault,”

“i never said it was your fault.”

“you don’t have to! it doesn’t take a lot to know you’re upset,” she retorted,

“y/n,” quinn started, walking over to where she was standing, holding her by the neck when he kissed her roughly, biting her lip when she moaned lightly into his mouth.

he tapped the back y/n’s of legs, and she jumped hooking her legs around his waist without objection.

quinn waltzed them to the bedroom, their kiss nowhere close to cooling off. quinn lightly tossed her on the bed, lips peeling off hers to suck and bite on the exposed skin of her neck.

y/n groaned lightly, beginning to unbutton his collared shirt, when quinn pulled off of her, leaving y/n with furrowed brows.

“quinn, what’s wrong?” she said, propping herself up on her arms, looking up at her boyfriend, confused.

“wait here baby,” he said, leaving the room.

she nodded, and about 15 seconds had passed when quinn returned to the room, his phone in hand with the camera app already opened.

“you want to make a movie huh?” she said, beginning to peel off the jersey that housed quinn’s name.

“only for our number one fan. leave the jersey on,” he said, “but everything else, off. now.”

y/n nodded, slipping down her pants and thong, her pussy already aching with the desire quinn had filled in her.

quinn swiftly undid his belt with one hand, lowering his pants and boxers to leave his hard length exposed.

“c’mere, suck.”

y/n obliged, moving down to her knees to meet quinn at hip length, the phone flash shining brightly in her face when she took the tip of his dick and swirled it around her tongue.

quinn groaned, moving his free hand to pull y/n’s hair into a ponytail with his fist. his breath quickened, y/n taking all of him in, bobbing up and down; quinn’s hips matching her rhythm.

he had almost forgot he was recording her, but when her lashes fluttered up to perfectly view the camera whilst she sucked him, quinn knew he was close to cumming.

quinn groaned louder, fucking y/n’s face, her moans sending vibrations on his dick that pushed him to his release. he pulled out of her mouth right when he was about to cum, y/n sticking her tongue out to collect his release.

god he was loving this.

he stopped the video as she wiped the leftover release from her face, pulling her up for a sloppy hot kiss.

quinn pulled away, the two panting with puffy lips, “bed, ass up, baby. now.” he instructed, reopening his phone for the perfect view.

“yes captain,” y/n said, just ready for whatever quinn had in store for her, her wetness beginning to seep down and stick to her inner thighs, burning for him to touch her.

after hitting record, quinn wasted no time aligning himself with her, pumping in and out a few times before going fully in, his hips meeting her ass, eliciting moans from the two of them.

his pace was rapid and brutal, moving her hair away from her and back into his hands, revealing to the camera the “hughes” jersey she was wearing.

“fuck, quinn! mm, so good— my god, fuck,” y/n moaned, echoing with the sound of their skin slapping against one another, her noises music to quinn’s ears.

he continued to pound hard into her, y/n’s knuckles white from how hard she gripped into the sheets, feeling her stomach tighten, about to reach her high.

quinn felt her pussy tighten around him, knowing she was close, “gonna cum baby? go ahead, cum,” he husked, coming to his second of the night.

she screamed in pleasure, her cunt coating his dick, mixing with his as he filled her up with his release.

quinn pulled out of her slowly, giving time to show the camera a view of her dripping puffy pussy, ending the video with a hard smack on her ass.

y/n yelped, falling into the bed. quinn turned her around, gently kissing her in her dazed state.

“you okay baby?” he asked gently, caressing her face with his thumb,

“mhm, but i think you killed me. i’m exhausted,” she laughed, quinn smiling and bringing his lips down to peck hers, “sorry, want me to go start a shower for us?”

“you know me so well,”

quinn crawled off of her, grabbing his phone before slipping into the bathroom,

he opened instagram, typing in vince’s username into the search bar, itching as he opened their messages tab.

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You love James but he loves Lily. It's simple, until it isn't so simple anymore.

Genre: Angst (happy ending)

Warnings: James x Lily mentioned, "unrequited" love, idiots in love, swearing, violence, harassment, crying, arguments, protective!james, jealous!james, stupid!james, Lily isn't a villain—pls i love her!

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

You know two things for certain—

You're head over heels in love with James. 

He's head over heels in love with Lily.  

In the beginning, you saw the entire situation as some messy game of cat & mouse, and you'd been determined to win. You had foolishly been convinced Lily didn't like James in any way. It never seemed like she had any interest in him. 

And James? Well, James adored your attention. It very clearly sparked his already enormous ego, and you couldn't deny you liked the thrill of him liking your shameless flirting. 

It was fun and harmless while it lasted and it seemed like there was a mutual understanding to both pretend you didn't notice the stolen looks, or shy smiles, the feel of his hand brushing yours in the hallway, the small written notes in class, or the letters he'd sent over the summer…and of course the present he'd left you for your 17th birthday; a small, necklace with expensive tiny rubies. 

It felt surreal. 

It was surreal because the moment you find out James has been dating Lily since Christmas break you feel sick. "Lily? Lily Evans?" You ask your friends, almost choking on your scrambled eggs. 

"Yeah. Apparently, Marls said that Lily kissed James in the Common Room after his practice yesterday," Mary says, immersed in the gossip, "Either way, I heard from Sirius Black that they've been inseparable ever since New Year. He says it's rather annoying."

You hear her muffle a yelp as Pandora kicks her shin from underneath the table. "Oh, I forgot you like James, Y/n," Mary says and sends you a sympathetic smile. 

You feel crushed inside but you force a smile, "Me? Oh, please. I can find so much better than Potter. He was just a silly crush," you swat your hand in the air, "I'm already over him," you say.

Pandora doesn't look like she believes you but she doesn't say anything. Instead, she and Mary let you sit in silence and pretend not to know you're unintentionally staring at James and his friends from across the dining hall. 

James is laughing and your chest tightens. He seems over the moon as he has his arm around Lily's shoulder and she looks at him with a look you've never seen her wear. She actually looks like she's enjoying his jokes now. 

You can't help yourself as you start to compare yourself to Lily. You chew on your nails as you start to remember every insecurity you've ever had and you feel miserable.

You aren't really supposed to feel miserable, you reason, deep down you knew James wasn't yours. He was always hers. He was just waiting for her to claim him and you were a silly distraction.

You pry your eyes away from James and Lily when he stands up. You think he sees you for a moment because you can feel his stare. However, when you lift your head and make eye contact for a moment. James's expression is unreadable and he's the first to turn his head. He grins and continues his conversation with Lily as you're frozen in time.

"Y/n?" Mary calls your name and time resumes.

"Yeah?" you whisper, composing yourself and crossing your arms on the table. 

"Here," she hands you a crumpled-up note and points behind her, "It's from Danny."

You take the note from Mary and tilt your head to see Danny Dulac staring at you from the Slytherin table. Danny Dulac is the Captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He's tall, extremely smart, and has the silkiest blond hair. 

Danny sends you a smile and motions toward the paper in your hand which reads:

~I heard Potter is out of the picture now. Does this mean you're free for a Butterbeer on Saturday?~

You think it's a joke but when you look up, Danny looks dead serious. Mary leans over and when she sees the note over your shoulder, she exclaims, "Oh my Merlin, Danny just asked you out!" she pushes on your shoulder excitedly and you shush her. 

You stare at the cursive and your mind races. You spent so many years liking James that it had never even crossed your mind that you could like other boys, or that they could like you. 

"Well? Answer him," Pandora insists and makes a little circle motion with her hand. 

Once you find a quill from inside your book-bag, you reply with a small, enthusiastic, 

~Yes!~

* * *

Over the week leading up to Saturday, you try to pretend James and Lily don't exist. 

It's much easier than you imagined because you have Danny's to pay attention to now. Turns out Danny Dulac is a gentleman who carries your books in the hallway and compliments you whenever he has the chance. 

You don't feel the loss you felt when you found out James and Lily kissed—at least not when James isn't staring at you from afar. You knew James wasn't that fond of Danny—being the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain and all—but ever since Danny has been hanging around you it seems like James can't stand the guy. 

It's confusing, especially because James hasn't made any attempts to talk to you since his relationship with Lily became public. 

You sit in Potions next to Marlene when Remus Lupin comes up to you. "Y/n?" he asks in a quiet voice and you look up at him, "It's from James," he shows you the note in his hand and you stare at it like it's one of James's stupid pranks. 

You thank Remus and open it anyway, 

~Meet me at Hogsmeade on Saturday?~

Without a word to Remus, you scribble an answer, 

~I have a date~

You fold the torn parchment and hand it to Remus. You watch him walk back to James and Sirius. When James sees you've actually written him a response, his eyes sparkle and he hides a smile. However, his smile disappears once he reads the contents and you’ve never seen him so perturbed. 

He starts to scribble on the paper and, with his eyes focused on you, hands it to Remus. 

Remus shakes his head adamantly so James then tries to hand it to Sirius, who also shakes his head. James's last option is Peter but the poor boy has fallen asleep on his Potions book. 

You smile. Your attention is pulled from them when you see Danny next to you.

"Hi," he smiles.

"Hi," you answer and the last thing that could possibly be on your mind is James Potter. 

* * *

You pull at the hem of your dress and adjust your jumper nervously. Danny has just made the same joke he made a few hours earlier and you really try and force out another chuckle. 

"You ok? You look a little warm," Danny says foam from the beer lays across his upper lip.

You blink. You like him, you try to convince yourself, he's smart and super handsome and he carries your books for Merlin's sake— 

"I'm completely fine, continue?" you smile sweetly and lean in towards him from across the table. You want to look interested.

Danny smirks and looks around. "Wanna go somewhere quieter?" 

No, you want to say. You won't want to go anywhere with him because that means you have to listen to him some more and he's oh so boring.

Only you don't say no, you say, "Sure," and allow him to take your hand.

Once you've found a small, empty corner of The Three Broomsticks, Danny pushes you to the wall. His hand is resting near your forehead and he leans in as if he wants to kiss you. You panic and push him away, "Oh I'm super warm actually. One second," You turn and your hands tremble as you pull your jumper over your head and let it slide down your arms. 

Danny looks a little annoyed when you turn back around. His eyes lower and he frowns, "Pretty' necklace. Who's it from?" he points out and you look down. 

James's necklace.

"Oh. A friend," you say dismissively and rush to unclip it as it falls into your hands.

"A friend huh?" Danny crosses his arms, "Is it from Potter?"

You feel your cheeks become warm. Why would he ask that? You aren't sure what expression you're making but it cannot be a normal one.

"No!" you say and Danny yanks the necklace from your hands. Your heart sinks as you try to take it back instantly.

Danny holds it away from you, making you feel small, "You can't keep this." 

"Why not? It's mine," your lip wobbles.

"Because it's from him and he has a girl. It's completely inappropriate." 

You lower your arm and your heart hurts. Is Danny right? Maybe you have thrown away the necklace as soon as you found out about James and Lily? Why are you still wearing it? 

"Plus, if you want to be my girl you'll throw away this dirty necklace," Danny snarls as he runs his fingers along the silver chain. You freeze. 

"What?" you can't believe he just said that. 

"What?" Danny counters. He seems confused at your sudden shift in tone. 

"I am not your girl. I don't want to be your girl."

"Bullshit, Y/n," Danny rolls his eyes and stuffs your necklace into his robe. He walks closer, this time menacingly, and you feel stuck. Your hands press against the wall and you look at him. Your eyes brim with tears, mostly in hopes he'll leave you alone when he sees them. Danny just raises his hand and harshly brushes them away with his thumb, "You should feel lucky someone like me even likes you," he smirks. 

You feel like someone just punched you in the gut and you stutter, "Get away from me."

"No," Danny says and leans in. Only, he's suddenly ripped from in front of you and you inhale, surprised. You blink as Danny stumbles when someone seizes his collar. You feel someone else's hand on your shoulder and you turn to look at them. 

"Are you okay?" Kind, considerate, Lily Evans whispers, concerned at your tears.

"What the fuck?!" You hear a loud crack as Danny groans in pain. You look towards the sound and see James Potter take Danny's collar again, his knuckles already stained a little crimson. James looks furious. 

"Did you hurt her?" he hisses and shakes Danny like it's nothing.

Lily soothes you by rubbing your shoulders and she calls James's name as a warning.

"Hurt her? We're on a date, Potter. She wanted it," Danny snarls and you wince. You didn't want it. James looks at you and Lily from the corner of his eye and his heart breaks when he sees your expression.

"Fucking nutter!" James exclaims and punches Danny in the stomach. This time, Danny doesn't just take the hit. Instead, he tackles James and they trip onto the ground. Lily screams at her boyfriend and you scream Danny's name. 

You try to pull Danny away from James but it's only when you hear a loud crack as Danny lands on his left thigh that he pauses. You gasp, covering your mouth with your hands, which makes James pause and he looks confused as Danny pulls out your necklace from inside his robe. The small rubies have shattered and when Danny opens his hand, the chain and the shards drop onto the ground. 

He stands and taunts, "Some gift, huh Potter?" James's expression falls. 

 You crouch down, scooping the, now completely ruined, necklace into your palms. You try to hold in your tears and the world around you turns silent as you look at your present. "Shut it," You hear Lily snap at Danny and she doesn't hesitate to help you stand. Her arm holds yours and she looks almost as furious as James. 

"She's crying because of you, you prat! Does that make you feel good about yourself, huh?" James points out with frustration.

You know he means well, but it doesn't help that he basically announced to the entirety of The Three Broomsticks that you're in tears. You sniffle and look at Danny. His blue eyes shine with a mixture of embarrassment, pity, shame, and resentment.

"Whatever," he just snarls, "She's not worth it. She never was," he says as if you aren't standing directly in front of him. 

"You piece of shit," James hisses but Lily interrupts him.

"James. No," she scolds like a mother and James whips his head around to glare at her.

Instead, he makes eye contact with you and his face falls once more. His posture softens and, to your surprise, he doesn't move when Danny bumps his shoulder to leave. 

"I'm sorry, James," you say sadly, still holding his present. 

He looks confused and tilts his head as walks closer to you. Murmurs drift around the room as students continue to watch the scene. Lily looks around, seemingly just as uncomfortable as you, and James does the same. 

He gestures to the door and raises one of his eyebrows in a question. Lily nods. Quietly, you follow them outside and as you walk.

James and Lily somehow find their way next to each other. It's almost automatic for them and your heart breaks. Lily whispers into James's ear and his eyes glance at you. You look away, insecurities burning your chest. 

"You okay?" Lily asks, turning around when you start to fall back behind them.

You hum and pick at your nails, "I- I'm gonna go," you mutter. Lily wants to protest but, without a word, you stand before James and let the broken necklace fall into his open hands.

He looks at you with wide eyes and then clutches his hand around the necklace so fiercely. He shakes his head and your name leaves his lip but you don't wait for him to continue. You turn to leave—what can he possibly say now that will make you feel better?

"I like you!" His voice resonates in your ears as your breath leaves you. You turn around, almost hurting your neck. You couldn't have heard him correctly. Your eyes bounce to Lily but she doesn't look hurt. She doesn't even look surprised. Instead, she sends you a small smile.

You blink, "Pardon me?" You walk a little closer to James, "You like me? As in romantically or as a person?"

James starts to stutter, "R-romantically."

You look towards Lily, bewildered. "But, you're dating her!" 

  James turns to look at Lily just as she speaks up, "No, we broke up. We didn't even last more than maybe two weeks, Y/n." She laughs, "You two should really talk—" 

James nods at her and then turns to you once more. His arms stretch out as if he wants to make sure you won't run away from him. "Please, Y/n. Hear me out." He sounds so small and for someone with such a big personality, you're suddenly afraid.

You find yourself nodding slowly and let him lead you behind The Three Broomsticks. James lets you lean against the wall and then he nervously runs a hand in his hair.

"James, I don't understand," you say quietly, "You like Lily. You have always liked Lily—I was always just some girl you entertained because you liked the attention. I've always known that."

James's face falls as he listens to you and you see his hands hesitate towards you. "You were never just some girl," he says adamantly.

You frown, "Yes, I was."

"No, you weren't," His voice rises and you press your back against the wall, staring at him as he explains, "Listen, I ended things with Lily. It was my decision. I realized I couldn't stay with her and do you want to know why?" 

You shake your head instantly but he tells you anyway. 

"Because she wasn't you. She didn't make me feel as full as you always do. When she laughed, I never had the same butterflies in my stomach," James pressed his hand to his chest, "My heart didn't feel compressed in my chest whenever I looked at her. I didn't blush at her compliments like I would yours, or want her to smile only because of me. Just like you used to. Bloody hell, I thought of you when I kissed her."

Your entire body feels warm as embarrassment washes over you. "Why did you then?" your voice breaks, "Why did you put me through that? You knew what I felt for you and you chose Lily anyway. How can I trust you now, James?"

You watch his lip tremble as he looks at you with his doleful brown eyes and your heart shatters for the fourth time this hour alone. 

"I don't know," he buries his face in his hands, making an exasperated sound, " I know that answer isn't good enough for you, and I know I can't take back the pain you felt when you saw me with her. I do know that." 

You don't know what to answer. 

James runs a hand over his jaw and looks at you, "I suppose I couldn't let the fantasy go," he admits in a whisper. 

You turn your head away, "Y-yeah—Lily Evans, the fantasy. I understand." 

"W-what? No, that isn't what I meant!" James assures you, "I've been stuck on Lily for years. I know I didn't see you, but—but I see you now."

You stare at him. He looks so upset that your anger turns into pity, "James—"

"Y/n, please don't reject me. I can't bear it," his voice breaks as his eyes water. He walks closer and drops the broken necklace he'd given you in your palm. Your hand closes around it without thinking. "I've been such an idiot but I can't imagine losing you like this."

"You lost me the moment I saw you with Lily. You don't deserve to have me—not like this, and definitely not anymore," you say sternly and watch as you break the heart of the boy you're madly in love with. 

"James, you strung me along for months and months, and then threw me away without hesitation for her. If you liked me, you would have never let me cry over you for weeks," your voice becomes louder. 

James's hurt expression twists and his eyes darken, "You spent your days with Danny Dulac for fucks sake! What the hell was I supposed to do?" he also raises his voice.

"You aren't allowed to be jealous!" you say and push your index into his chest, tears streaming down your cheeks, "You ruined this," your voice dies as your hand flattens on his chest and he grasps it in his. James pulls you closer and leans his head onto yours. 

For a moment, you let it rest there, but then you pull away. "I can't do this," you mutter, "you only want what you can't have, James," you whisper and you know your words would hurt him but you don't care. You hear him call your name as you walk away from him.

* * *

Over the next few months, it's as if you and James never existed. 

You don't speak in class and when James wants to talk outside of classes, you ignore him. Eventually, he stops trying. He doesn't go back to Lily like you'd expected him to. Instead, time goes by, you both graduate, and it isn't until Marlene's 21st birthday that you see James Potter again.

He's in the middle of a small crowd: his smile as bright and wide as you remember. He's laughing like he would in school and you stand to the side of the room, suddenly unsure what to do with yourself.  

When James sees you, his smile falters for a moment. He looks you up and down and when his eyes land on the necklace you're wearing, his heart thumps in his chest and he can't help but wander over to you. You almost run from him, but enough time has passed for you to stay still.

"Hi," James says, looking into your eyes. 

You look up, your voice merely a whisper, "Hi." 

Weirdly, conversation flows easily. You talk about work, hobbies, and eventually you land on relationships. Somehow you've found each other in a secluded side of the room, you're leaning against the wall as James's arm rests near your head. It isn't confrontational—no, instead you feel safe caged in his strong arms. Your eyes train on the muscles of his arm—of course he plays Professional Quidditch now. You need to remind yourself to pay more attention to Quidditch from now on. 

"You seeing anyone?" James hums, his eyes flickering to your necklace again. You fiddle with it subconsciously and shake your head. 

"You?" 

James shakes his head too and he finally asks the question that's been burning his lips, "You fixed it," he raises his arm and his thumb skims the rubies. 

You hum and nod. "I did."

"Why?"

You laugh and look at James. "Because I love this necklace," you pause a moment and you whisper, "And it reminds me of someone."

   James seems surprised and he runs a hand in his curls. He looks at you and leans in a little. "C-can I?" he asks and a part of you wants to shake your head…tell him to fuck off. But, this is James Potter. He's the only boy you've ever loved—no matter who came after him. You nod and James's hand cups your cheeks as his lips press against yours. 

"I've been thinking of doing this for years," he says breathlessly through his kisses. 

I have too, you want to say but instead you just pull him closer. 

"I love you," James says suddenly and pulls away. He looks flustered as he tries to explain himself. "I- I never stopped."

You look at him and utter three words James didn't think he'd ever hear, "Neither did I." 

[hubbvrd]

Protecting Boyfriend | Quinn Hughes

summary — During the Canucks home game, a man says some not-so-nice words to you because you're wearing a Hughes jersey. When Quinn finds out, he does everything he can to protect you and makes sure you get the pep talk you need to hear

pairing — quinn hughes x reader

words — 2165

warning — not-so-nice- words

A wide smile formed on your lips as you entered the Rogers Arena.

Today would be the game against the Coyotes that you've been looking forward to for the past week.

You can't wait to support your boyfriend Quinn and the rest of the team live in person, and then at home, in your own stadium.

You slowly walk down the stairs to your seat, from which you have a perfect view of the entire ice.

But from your seat you not only have a good view of the field, but also of the Canucks players who are seated not far from you.

That way, if your boyfriend wasn't on the field, you'd get a good look at number 43.

You can hardly wait for the stadium to fill up and the 1st period to begin.

In fact, it doesn't take too long before the stadium starts to fill up and various people fill the seats with their jerseys bearing the shirt numbers of their favorite players.

Today you are also wearing the blue Canucks jersey with Quinn's number on it, which you wear at every game you attend.

From the beginning, it was natural for you to show up at your games in his jersey and not to wear any expensive clothes to make your appearance at Quinn's games a kind of catwalk.

There were many wives or girlfriends of players who used the games to get themselves all dressed up and did half a shooting during the game to get likes and attention on Instagram or various other platforms.

But you've never been like this before. Supporting Quinn has always been your number one priority and that will never change.

"Hello," an older man in a Canucks jersey greets you as he sits down on the happy seat next to you.

"Hello," you reply in a friendly manner and give the man a friendly smile.

As your gaze begins to wander through the now full stadium and the noise level slowly rises, you feel a gaze on you.

Slowly, you turn your face in the direction of the man who had greeted you kindly just a few minutes ago.

Now there's a crinkled look on your face as he eyes you intently and begins to make you feel uncomfortable.

You've always been a little reserved around strangers, so the words that now leave your mouth surprise you.

"Is everything all right? Or is something wrong?"

The man begins to mumble something into his beard, which you can't understand due to the volume level.

"Excuse me? What did they say?" you ask as your heart starts to beat a little faster with nervousness.

You just want to watch the game in peace, without incident.

"I said that it's obvious that you're wearing a Hughes jersey of all things, like almost all the young women here."

"What makes you think that?"

The confusion was written all over your face. Of course you know that there are a lot of fans wearing the number 43 jersey, but there certainly weren't that many in the stadium just now.

"You young women now only pick players who look good. Most of you aren't even interested in the sport itself," he rants, causing you to look shocked.

You expected anything, but not this. What is wrong with this older man? And above all, what the hell did he have the nerve to say that to you?

Stunned, you start to shake your head and just as you've thought of the perfect answer, it gets loud and the teams enter the ice.

Probably better that way, because at least the man next to you was quiet and you could more or less enjoy the game.

Because you wouldn't let him ruin the day you've been looking forward to for a week.

—

The man had actually kept his mouth shut to you the whole game.

But when Quinn scored a goal and you, like several other fans, jumped up and cheered loudly, you heard other comments coming from his direction, but you couldn't hear them over the loud cheering and music.

Now the game is over, which the Canucks won 2-1.

A broad smile returns to your face, but it is immediately extinguished when the man next to you stands up and gives you an annoyed look.

"Well you fangirl? Did you even watch and understand the game? Or were you just undressing Hughes with your eyes?" His voice growls slightly, making you flinch and reflexively wrap your arms around your body.

This can't be true. Why can't the man just leave you alone and make his way home?

Even if you were just a fangirl who was only there because of Quinn, that wouldn't be his problem.

You just shake your head and leave your seat.

As you climb the stairs to get to the exit, you try not to let on too much how much the man has intimidated you and you're starting to panic.

It's all good, y/n. Just keep walking. You'll be with Quinn in a minute, you repeat the phrases over and over in your head as you leave the stadium, a light breeze blowing through your hair.

You breathe out deeply and close your eyes for a few seconds before opening them again and mingling with the crowd of fans to get to the back of the stadium.

There you will meet Quinn so that you can finally embrace him and congratulate him on his victory.

As you reach the back entrance, where a barrier has already been erected in front of the exit and one or two fans are already waiting to intercept their favorite player, you look around.

So as not to get in the way of any of the fans, you stand in the corner of the barrier so that everyone else has enough space. After all, you're not there to get autographs or photos, but to wait for your boyfriend.

But luck was not on your side. A few seconds later, the man you just met stands next to you and looks at you with an annoyed expression.

"Well, are you trying to get your hands on Hughes?" There is disgust in his voice. He speaks so quietly that only you can hear him.

Your heart begins to hammer faster against your ribs as your hands claw at the barrier and you try to stay calm.

"Stop it," you whisper on the verge of tears, which makes you angry with yourself for showing the man weakness.

But you can't do anything about it. The words and the way he treats you start to burn on your soul and reopen some old wounds.

You don't have an answer ready, but if you were honest with yourself, no perfect answer would shut the man up.

As the first players come out of the stadium and start signing autographs and taking photos with their fans, you stand on tiptoe to get a better look at when Quinn will finally arrive.

Quinn was never one of the first to leave the dressing room and then the stadium, so it would be a while before he arrived.

You would survive these few minutes - hopefully.

"Don't get your hopes up, sweetie. Hughes would never take you home," the man laughs as he steps closer to you.

"If they only knew..." You mumble, unaware that you've just spoken your thoughts out loud as you take a step to the side to put more distance between you.

"Excuse me?" the man hisses.

"I said, if they knew," you start and then gather all your courage for the next words that leave your mouth. "He's my boyfriend."

The man next to you starts to laugh out loud, attracting the attention not only of the other fans, but also of one or two of the players.

Confused, Dakota, Conor and Elias look in your direction. It took a few seconds for the three's eyes to grow wide as they recognize you and realize what's happening right in front of them.

"Hey, man. Do you want an autograph too?" Dakota asks as he approaches you and the man.

Dakota gives you a warm and gentle look, trying to make you realize that everything is going to be okay.

"Oh, I'd love to!" The man beams now and starts to engage Dakota in a conversation in which he is overly friendly.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Elias run back into the stadium, followed shortly afterwards by Quinn.

Relief spreads through your body as you spot Quinn, who looks anything but pleased.

He looks angry.

Elias must have summarized everything for Quinn.

Several fans start yelling for Quinn, but he only has eyes for you.

He approaches you with quick steps, puts his hands on your hips and lifts you over the barrier.

"Are you okay, babe?" You ask him as you feel his tense muscles under the suit.

"I should ask you if you're okay, if anything. Why didn't you say anything?" Quinn looks down at you with a worried expression.

"I couldn't have said that during the game..." you begin, but are immediately interrupted by Quinn.

"But during the break. You could have texted me or come to the dressing room."

Quinn strokes your hair gently as he continues to look at you with concern.

His muscles relax slightly under your hand, which is still on his chest.

But you know that won't last long.

"I wouldn't take her home tonight!" A voice calls out, making you flinch.

Immediately, Quinn's muscles tense again as his face becomes angry again and his hands automatically clench into fists.

"Quinn..." You begin, but Quinn doesn't seem to hear you at all.

He gently pushes you over to Elias, who has become like a big brother to you over the last few years, when you've spent a lot of time with him and Quinn.

"Elias..." You mumble anxiously as you look up at the blond.

"Don't worry, y/n. He won't do anything stupid," Elias promises you, but you're not even sure if you can really believe his words.

From a safe distance, you watch Quinn more or less stumble the man together.

As you do, you pick up a few scraps of words, like "My girlfriend...She doesn't deserve this...Greatest person on earth...Our team doesn't need fans like you..."

It's not long before the man is taken away by security and Quinn returns to you.

Sniffling, you throw yourself into his strong arms, which he wraps tightly around you and presses you gently against him.

"I'm sorry," Quinn mumbles into your hair.

"It's not your fault," you sniffle as you look up at him and see a few tears in his eyes.

"But he hurt you and said things to your head that no one should ever hear. And if you get hurt, it hurts me here too."

Quinn reaches for your hand and places it where his heart is.

"Oh, Quinn..." you whisper as countless tears begin to roll down your cheeks.

He was incredibly sweet to you and now, after you had to hear those nasty and caustic words from the man, he made sure that you were moved to tears.

"If that happens again - which I hope it doesn't. Would I like you to come straight to me, Elias or another one of my colleagues, yes?"

Quinn looks you in the eye and then kisses your forehead.

"I promise," you murmur as you snuggle back into his arms and enjoy his strong, warm arms.

All the words that had hurt you just a moment ago disappeared as if by magic while you were in Quinn's arms and enjoying his closeness.

"I want you to forget all those words that man banged on your head, y/n. You know none of those words are true. I know it's hard to get these words out of my head, but I hope they help you. You're the best person I've ever met. You are the love of my life. You're always there for me, you make me feel better no matter how bad I'm feeling, you make me laugh and just your presence makes me feel good. I love you y/n and I could go on and on, but then we'd be here until tomorrow and I hope these words help you forget all the crap he's thrown at you."

His words caused a tear or two to roll down your cheeks. You were touched by how lovingly he treated you and had the perfect words to make you feel better.

And Quinn's words actually manage to put all the man's words out of your head once and for all.

Quinn was not only your friend, but also your protector.

Even though you do this side of him and you like how protective he is of you, you hope that something like today won't happen again.

[cherrycolored-punk]

what we do in the shadows - e.m. x fem!reader

author's note: did anyone else play hide and seek in the dark with their friends in high school? there was something exhilarating about hiding in the shadows with your crush; hands wandering closer, fingertips brushing, secret kisses that no one could see or ever found out about. note: reader and eddie are 21+ in this little blurbo.

i hope you enjoy <3 this was written on a whim and lightly edited so if you see mistakes...no you didn't :)

w/c: 1.5k

warnings: oral - reader receiving, unprotected p in v, praise kink, sex in public (somewhat), let me know if i missed anything.

The house is quiet, the sound of your breathing jagged and uneven as you try to steady it.

In the distance, you can hear boards creek under the weight of Steve Harrington’s reeboks as he creeps around his house.

The rest of the gang is hidden somewhere within the Harrington home. Scattered in various spaces, under kitchen tables, or behind shower curtains for a late-night game of hide and seek in the dark you’d agreed to after one too many drinks.

Eddie’s lips press down your neck, creating a line of electricity as he trails kisses over your collarbone and to the tops of your breasts. Tongue lavishing over your supple flesh as he kneads your heavy flesh through your bra.

You’d secretly been hooking up for the past few months, though the rest of your friends don't know. At least you don’t think they do.

Robin had her suspicions, would eye the two of you if a glance seemed too longing or too loaded. She’d peppered you with questions, but you’d deflected, simply saying that you and Eddie weren’t any closer than you were to the other guys.

Your head tilts back as he pushes down your bra, pulling one of your nipples between his lips and circling his tongue over the pebbled flesh.

Definitely, not any closer than the rest of your friends.

Eddie spins you around suddenly, back pressed to his chest, and pins your hands on either side of your head. His mouth beginning its descent.

His plush lips press over your clothes, felt through the thin fabric of your shirt as he moves lower, lower, lower until he reaches the hem of your mini skirt.

His hands laze over your ass cheeks, gripping and squeezing where his palms itch to slap.

Doing his best to remain quiet as the game continues somewhere in the large home.

Eddie pushes up your skirt, swallowing a growl when you’re revealed to him—the swell of your ass highlighted by the pale moonlight streaming through the slits of Steve’s closet.

His teeth graze the fat of your ass, and you arch into his touch, chin pressing to your shoulder as you turn to watch him.

Munson’s wide hands spread you apart, revealing more of you to him.

He pushes his face closer, burying it into your clothed center. Inhaling deeply, biting back a groan at your intoxicating scent.

You hold in a whine as his tongue pushes against the thin edge of your pink thong, its warmth felt against your slick heat as he prods further until there’s nothing separating his mouth from your pussy.

He moans against your skin as he tastes your tangy slick and reaches to push your panties to the side to taste you fully.

“Oh-,” you begin to whine as he licks a stripe down your folds, but he shushes you softly.

“We can’t get caught, sweetheart, or the game’ll be over,” he whispers, “you don’t want to be interrupted, do you?”

You shake your head swiftly, gaze trained on his as his mouth moves back to your wet heat.

He’s like a man starved as his tongue drags over your pussy, his hands holding you spread open as he buries his face deeper.

Your fingers curl into his hair, gripping and holding his face to you. The sharp edge of your teeth digs into your bottom lip when he stretches your aching cunt over his tongue. It darts in and out of you as his callused fingers rub circles against your clit. 

Fuck, it feels so good but the stretch of his tongue isn’t enough.

You need him.

You tug his hair and pull his face to yours, hungry lips pressed to his as you unbutton his jeans. Humming when you taste yourself on his mouth.

“Need to feel you,” you whisper, your hand pushing into the tops of his jeans and wrapping around his thick cock. Pumping him slowly, relishing the way he grunts, hips following your hand movements.

He needs you just as badly and wastes no time turning you back around, hiking your leg up.

Your hips wiggle in anticipation against his lap as you wait.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Steve’s words are singsong, growing louder as he approaches the room.

Eddie places a hand over your mouth so Harrington can’t hear you as his tip nudges against your entrance.

Slowly, he inches into you. Stretching you over his cock in an agonizing pace as he grips your hips to steady himself, dropping his palm from your mouth when he hears Steve’s footsteps begin to retreat.

A moan climbs into your throat and you press your lips together, swallowing it down as you take every inch of him until he’s fully seated deep inside of you.

“Think you can be quiet for me?” he whispers, his voice affected. Warm breath fanning your skin and you nod.

“Good girl,” he presses a kiss to your jaw. Fingers squeezing your hips tighter when you clench around him at the sound of his praise.

Eddie inches out of you and back in, picking up his pace with each long stroke of his cock making it more difficult not to moan.

To hold back the way you want to scream his name.

He lifts your leg higher and hooks your foot on his shoulder, practically splitting you in half. Palm spread wide over your thigh and fingers digging into your skin as his cock pumps into you, the tip pressing into your spongy center.

The lewd squelching of your pussy fills the small closet, reverberating off the walls as Eddie sets a brutal pace.

Pumping in and out of you, the smack of your skin against his is loud with every thrust.

Neither of you really thinking about getting caught, not really caring if you do.

You reach down, eager fingers pressing against your sensitive bud in mean circles chasing the orgasm that was building in your center and ready to unfurl.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, swallowing down a groan as he watches you and you clench around him again.

“So fucking pretty, so fucking good for me,” he praises, pulling your shirt down so he can watch the way your tits bounce with every pump of his dick.

The muscles in your body strain, eyes snapping shut as waves of pleasure crash against you and it takes everything in you not to moan his name as you come undone.

Eddie loses control as your pussy flutters around his cock, pumping into you one last time before filling you with his release.

The feeling of him coating your walls making your eyes roll, goosebumps sprouting against your skin.

The two of you stay connected, his dick softening inside of you as each of you try to catch your breaths.

He leans over and kisses you softly, slowly pulling out of you until you’re missing the stretch of him. His come leaking out of you and soaking into your panties.

Eddie releases your leg, guiding it down until you’re standing on two feet and pulling down your skirt.

He adjusts himself, buttoning his jeans and straightening his shirt.

Both of you still as footsteps approach, a mingling of whispers right outside the door and you listen. The latch clicks softly as someone pushes it open, the wood creaking before the knob hits the wall.

It’s not that either of you were ashamed of the other, you liked sneaking around. The chaste kisses, hidden touches, secret hookups.

It gave you a rush of adrenaline every time you were almost caught except this time it seemed you were.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Your heart hammers as they near, round eyes transfixed on the closet door Eddie had left slightly ajar.

Steve throws it open, eyes going wide when he finds both you and Eddie hiding in the dark.

“Dude, in my closet?” He grumbles, glancing between you and the metalhead.

“I fucking knew it!” Robin comes up behind Steve, needing to see for herself.

Instead of shrinking away, Eddie grabs your hand and slots his fingers between yours.

“Yeah, yeah. Eat it up now. We’re dating.”

Heat grows in your cheeks at his words, he hadn’t exactly ever asked you but you weren’t going to disagree. You’d spent plenty of nights together doing more than just fucking that it felt official in some capacity.

Your hand squeezes his and you look up to your friends.

But the news doesn’t phase them.

“You both still owe me twenty dollars,” Robin shrugs and follows them out of the room to search for Jonathan and Argyle.

Eddie turns to you and chuckles, rubbing an affectionate thumb against the apple of your cheek.

“Guess the cat’s outta the bag,” he muses, tracing his nose against yours.

“Guess so,” you whisper against his lips.

“You okay with what I said?” And you nod.

“More than,” you press your lips to his but Steve rounds back to the room before it can grow any more heated.

“No, no, no. You’re not fucking in my room or in its vicinity again,” he grabs the two of you and leads you out of the doors.

[keikikait]

ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴍᴇ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is part three. for part two, click here!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20's)

word count: 6.7k. i got carried away. i locked in all day to write this.

summary: a trip to get your new phone results in something new…until rafe finds out

warnings: SMUT WARNING 18+! HEAVY cunnilingus (pretty much all pussy eating), slight nipple play (f receiving), rafe is a munch argue with the wall, slight dom!reader (never written it before so soz if it’s awkward), leg humping, cumming in pants, some angst at the beginning/middle, smut at the end, jealous!rafe, some jj x reader, i haven't finished s4 so if i get shit wrong i'm sorry, not proofread

a note: i am so locked in on this series. that being said, this is most likely the final part. but don't worry, i have another rafe idea in mind!

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You only get a few hours of sleep before Rafe is stomping around your room, getting dressed to leave you yet again.

The sunlight pours in through your now open window, your curtains flowing softly in the wind. Your bed is so warm and soft that you don’t even want to get up, your duvet smelling faintly of Rafe’s cologne. You sit up, rubbing your eyes. “Rafe?”

He turns to look at you, his blue eyes softening when he looks at your sleepy face. He slips his arms through the holes of his shirt before pulling it over his head, smirking. “Yeah? You okay?”

“Where are you going?” You ask, yawning.

“I gotta go.” He says, straightening his shirt out. “I was supposed to meet with Sofia for breakfast today. Some new breakfast bistro opened up downtown.” Rafe sits down on the edge of your mattress, leaning over and kissing your forehead. “I’ll be back tonight, alright?”

You whine, reaching out and grabbing his wrist. “No.”

Rafe sighs, grabbing your hand and gently pulling away your grip. “Sweetheart, don't do that.” He says, his voice stern. “I told you, I'm supposed to be with her for breakfast.”

“No!” You tug him onto the bed. “You love me, not her. You said so yourself.”

He falls onto the bed, cursing under his breath as he looks at you. He sighs, reaching out and taking your chin in his hand. “Don't do this, pretty girl. I'm supposed to be with her right now. Don't throw another tantrum like that. Not now. I don't want to be late. I'm not going to be late just because you are being a brat.”

You push his hand away, sitting up fully. “You can’t keep doing this to me, Rafe. I don’t want to tolerate your bullshit anymore.”

Rafe sighs again, frustrated. He grabs your chin again, more roughly this time. He moves closer to you, pinning you against the pillows. “You just promised me last night you wouldn't doubt my love for you again. I'm going to spank that bratty little ass of yours if you keep this bullshit up.”

“I’m not doubting you, I just…” You sigh, pushing against his grip. “I want to be your first choice. I want to be your only choice. I don’t want to be the other woman anymore.”

“You don't think I know that?” He snaps, his grip tightening. “I know that, sweetheart. You think I don’t know that? I know you don’t want to share, I know you want me to be only yours, I know all of that. But I don’t have a choice right now, alright? Why can’t you understand that?”

His grip stings your skin. You wince slightly, pushing against him. “Why can’t you just break up with her, Rafe?”

“Because I have to play the long game with her, baby. I don’t expect you to understand, but you gotta trust me. This will pay off in the long run, I swear. So stop being a brat about this, please.” He moves closer, shifting one hand to pinch your hip as a warning. “I don’t want to have to punish you for questioning me.”

You whine, squirming under his grip. “Rafe, please, just listen to me! I swear, you don’t need her, she’s just using you--”

Rafe’s phone starts ringing, vibrating on your bedside table. 

It’s Sofia.

Rafe looks over the nightstand, gritting his teeth when he sees her name. He sighs, grabbing his phone and holding it to his ear. “Hey, babe.” He says, his voice suddenly soft. He turns to look at you, a warning gaze telling you to keep your mouth shut.

The way he says babe makes your heart ache, tears welling in your eyes. You crawl towards the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around his hips, and press your face into his stomach. You want him to stay with you.

He gently places a hand on your head, his fingers running through your hair as he talks to Sofia. “Yeah, I’m on my way right now, I’m just running late.” He says, his voice sweet as usual. There’s a pause as Sofia responds to him, his voice softening even more as he answers. “Of course I still want to come, babe. You know I do.”  He tugs your head back before moving his free hand to your chin, pinching it between his fingertips as he glances down at you.

Your bottom lip trembles as his thumb brushes over it. You kiss it, trying to nuzzle his hand.

Rafe’s silent as he listens to Sofia respond to him, his gaze growing dark as he glances at your face. He lets you nuzzle his hand, dragging his thumb across your teeth as he responds, his voice growing a bit deeper as he speaks. “Yeah, I’ll be there in half an hour, I promise, okay?” He sighs, holding your chin. “Alright. I love you too, babe. See you soon.”

I love you.

I love you?

Your eyebrows furrow and you immediately pull away, moving towards the head of the bed, trying to soften your cries as he hangs up the phone.

Rafe sighs, shutting his phone off and setting it back on the nightstand. He glances at you, watching as you scoot backwards towards the top of the bed. He frowns. “Hey. Come here.” His voice is so soft that you almost give in.

You shake your head over and over, bringing your knees to your chest. How stupid could you be? Why did you even believe him in the first place?

“Stop it.” He snaps, his voice suddenly serious. He grabs one of your ankles, pulling you down towards him. “I said, come here. Don’t make me say it again.” He pulls you down the rest of the way, pinning you against the headboard with his large, strong frame.

You try not to cry, biting the inside of your lip, squirming underneath him. “Just go. You’re going to be late.”

“Baby-” He sighs, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. “Why are you being such a brat? We talked about this last night, alright? I told you to trust me, so why can’t you trust me?” He gently takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. “I swear, this attitude of yours really needs to stop. Don’t make me put you over my knee.”

The way he talks to you makes your skin crawl and your stomach churn. You squirm, trying to get him off of you. “Please let go, Rafe. I understand. Please just let go.”

He sighs again, frustrated. He sits back a bit, but he doesn’t move back entirely. He continues to hover above you, towering over your frame. “Sweet girl, please, stop this. I told you last night, I don’t want to have to punish you. I don’t want to fight you, but you have to let me work with her. I swear to you that I’m going to dump her as soon as I can, alright? You have to trust me.”

You sniffle, squirming underneath him. “Promise?”

“I promise.” He says, cupping your face and forcing you to look at him, his face just a few inches from yours. “I swear to you, I’m gonna dump her soon, alright? I’m not just saying that to make you feel better, sweetheart. I love you, alright? I swear.”

“I love you too.” You say. And you mean it. Does he?

He sighs, his brow softening. He leans in and kisses you, his lips gently gliding over yours. He pulls away after a moment, just to stare at you for a moment. He then glances at the clock on the nightstand over his shoulder, sighing again. “Okay, pretty girl, I really do need to get going now. I’m definitely gonna be late if I’m any more late. I’m sorry.” He moves back, releasing your chin.

“Be safe.” You call, standing up from your bed.

Rafe pauses, glancing back at you with a small smile, lingering by the door to your bedroom. “I will. Don’t throw any tantrums while I’m gone, alright?” He sighs, his expression growing soft. “I’ll call you when I’m headed back, baby. Love you.”

He exits your bedroom, and a few seconds later you hear your front door open and close.

You’re alone. Again.

It's only 8:30 AM, but the weight of the world already presses down on your shoulders. You groan, climbing back into your bed and burying your face in the pillow. You sniffle, wiping away the tears on your cheeks and your undereyes. Your mind races, and you know you should get up and get ready for the day. You should also eat something. The tasks loom like dark clouds on the horizon, threatening to overwhelm you. Instead, you close your eyes and go back to sleep, even just for a little bit.

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You forgot you smashed your phone.

After your morning shower and a rather large breakfast, trying to make up for the last two days. You search your living room for a while before finding it curled around the corner of the plaster wall. It’s smashed in half, the screen cracked all the way down to the charger port. Thankfully, you had a bit of forethought last night, ordering the phone to be for next day pickup rather than delivery.

You pick up the two halves of your phone, your finger accidentally running over the screen. Somehow, the phone still turns on, glitching for a moment. You carefully throw it into the trashcan before sweeping up the excess glass. You’ll have to go pick up your new phone today, as much as you don’t want to.

Maybe I’ll just go after lunch…, you think. You really don’t want to go out right now, especially not to the Apple Store in the mall, but then you remember that Rafe said he would call you tonight. You rub your eyes, letting out a loud groan before heading into your bedroom to change.

It takes you around an hour to get ready, picking out your outfit, fixing your hair, doing your makeup, getting yourself looking somewhat presentable and not like you just laid on your couch for two days. You end up picking a simple yet cute outfit, a white sweater tucked into a short dark blue skirt, black tights, and some heeled boots, and a small black leather shoulder bag. You check your reflection in your bedroom mirror, sighing to yourself. You looked good, really good. You could almost hear Rafe’s comments on your outfit; ‘You look great, sweetheart, but that means other men will think so, too.’ But maybe you did want them to think that way.

You hesitate a moment when you grab your keys. You’re still exhausted and really don’t want to go get your phone, but you need to get your phone, even for non Rafe-related reasons.

With a heavy sigh, you grab your keys and head out. 

After a short drive and a long peruse of the parking lot, you finally head inside the mall. You feel inclined to check Sofia’s Instagram, reaching for a phone that isn’t there. Making your way through the mall, you finally reach the Apple Store, which is mostly empty, and you’re quickly able to get in line for customer support. Luckily, it doesn’t take too long for you to get in, and soon enough, you’re talking with one of the employees, giving them the serial number of the phone you ordered. The woman behind the counter is all smiles, seemingly kind and cheery. She taps away at the computer on the counter top, typing in the number. She asks you routine questions before setting up your phone for you, sliding it across the table. 

“Thanks.” You say, standing up. “We’re all good on payment, right?”

The woman, Sherri, smiles and nods. “Everything’s all set, honey!” She says, cheerful. “Anything else we can do for you today?”

“I am all set.” You say, giving her a smile before hurriedly rushing out of the Apple Store. You mess around with your phone settings, looking down as you walk. 

“Ow. Hey—” You bump into someone as you step out of the Apple Store, glancing down at your phone instead of watching where you’re going. A familiar voice makes you stop dead in your tracks, and your head tilts slightly, a small smile on your face. 

“JJ, hey.” You say, putting your phone into your purse for safe keeping. 

JJ is grinning, as usual, his hands stuffed in his pockets and that charming smirk still on his face. “Hey, sugar.” He says, looking you up and down. “You look fancy today, you goin’ somewhere?”

“Just had to get a new phone,” You say, pulling it out to show him. “Smashed mine by accident.”

“Damn, that sucks, baby doll.” He says, leaning in a little closer to look at it. “You gotta be more careful with your stuff. A pretty thing like you needs to take care of herself.”

You blush, and your ears turn pink, too. You shouldn’t be feeling this way, especially with JJ. Even though Rafe had filled your head with tons of negative opinions on JJ, you had never had a problem with him. “Y-yeah, I know.” You’re having a hard time forming sentences, stuck on an endless loop of blushing and admiring the blond in front of you. 

“Mmm, such a cute blush. You’re a lil flustered.” He teases, leaning in closer, his eyes looking you up and down. He reaches out and grabs your hand to gently pull you closer, and you oblige, getting right up against him. “C’mon, baby doll, you got a crush on me now or somethin’?”

“Maybe.” You say softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

He chuckles, looking down at you. “Yeah, sweetheart? You got a thing for me?” His tone turns teasing, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.  His moves his hand up to cup your face, rubbing his thumb along your jawline. “What, boyfriend ain’t treatin’ your cute little ass right, or somethin’? That why you got a crush on me?”

“You know I don’t have a boyfriend, JJ.” You say, reaching out and rubbing the hem of his button-up shirt, your thumb swirling on one of the buttons. 

JJ grins at you, the smirk growing wider. “That right, pretty girl?” He asks, letting go of your chin and grabbing your hand, stopping you from swirling your thumb along his shirt. He grabs your hand instead, his touch rough. “If you don’t got a boyfriend, then that means you’re free game, darlin’.”

You intertwine your fingers, tugging him closer. “That I am.”

“Oh yeah?” JJ grins, being pulled closer to you. He grabs your wrist, turning and pulling you against his chest, his free hand resting comfortably on your hip. “That means I could kiss you, and you’d let me?” His voice is low, just above a whisper, as he looks down at you. He grins. “Maybe I’ll try it right now.”

“A kiss before our first date?” You ask, tilting your head a little. “How naughty of you, JJ.”

He chuckles again, shaking his head. “I’m a naughty boy, sugar, everyone knows that.” He says, his eyes looking you up and down once again. “But you look just too damn cute in that girly little outfit of yours, I can’t resist you. You’re too damn pretty.” He smiles again. “But yeah, I guess I should take you on a proper date first, huh?”

You nod, tugging him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Are you free now?”

JJ laughs, his arms wrapping fully around your frame as you tug him closer. He rests his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. He squeezes your hips with his fingers. “Free as a bird, baby doll. You wanna go right now?”

You nod, incredibly eager, willing to do anything to get your mind off of Rafe. You look up at him and bite your lip. “How about we try that new breakfast bistro downtown?”

“Whatever you say, sugar.” JJ says, his smirk growing wide as he notices the eager look on your face. “You seem like you’re kinda hungry for somethin’.” His hand moves to the small of your back, gently holding your frame close to his. “Breakfast bistro ain’t a bad place to start.”

“My car or yours?” You ask. 

He grins, grabbing your chin and tilting your face up to look at him. “You don’t mind ridin’ with me, do you, sweetheart?” 

You shake your head. 

He smiles back down at you, leaning in closer. His face is just a few inches away from yours, his eyes staring down into yours before glancing to your lips. “Good.” He whispers. “Cuz I don’t think we can both fit in your teeny, tiny car. Plus…riding on my bike means you can hold onto me.”

You glance at his lips before meeting his eyes. “I’m ready when you are, handsome. But remember,” You lean a little closer. “It’s just one date.”

He chuckles, his grip on your chin tightening just slightly before he leans in to give you a gentle kiss. “You’re cute as hell, you know that?” He asks, pulling away a moment later, grabbing your hand again. “C’mon, sugar, my bike’s parked out back.”

You eagerly follow him, your whole body feeling fuzzy.

The new bistro is called the Early Bird Cafe & Bistro. 

It’s totally not your fault it’s the same restaurant Rafe and Sofia are supposed to be at, just like it’s totally not your fault that you’re here with JJ at the same exact time. You spot Rafe right away, wearing that light blue sweater that drives you absolutely crazy, hugging his biceps and shoulders so well you wish you could sink your teeth into him. 

You slip the hostess $20, hoping she would let you get the empty table directly behind them. Sofia would have her back to you, but Rafe would get a front row seat. Your little bribe works, and she quickly leads you and JJ into the bistro and to the nearest empty table, right behind Rafe and Sofia’s table. You can feel Rafe’s eyes on you as you hurry into your seat, JJ sitting across from you, resting his hand on the table.

It’s perfect. You and Rafe can look each other dead in the eyes, while Sofia and JJ will have no idea. 

At first, you try to focus on JJ, listening to him talk as you look at the menu. You only peek at Rafe every few seconds, your eyes drawn to him, no matter how hard you try. He’s just sitting there, talking to Sofia as usual, but he keeps glancing at you, his eyes watching you intently. You order the cheapest thing on the menu, leaning across the table and holding JJ’s hand while he talks about his bike and how much it cost to fix it.

You prop your hand up on your palm, pushing your lips into a pout, and look up at JJ while he talks. You know Rafe is watching you.

JJ is absolutely loving your attention, oblivious to the fact that you’re doing all of this just to make Rafe watch. He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you when he sees the pout on your lips. “Oh, c’mon, you gonna give me that cute little pout? You tryna make me blush or somethin’, baby doll?” He reaches out and brushes his thumb along your lower lip. You kiss it, pressing your tongue against it.

He groans under his breath at the gesture, the smirk spreading wide on his face. “Oh, shit. You know, I love that mouth of yours.” He says, a hint of warning in his tone, his hand still holding your chin as his thumb continues to rub along your lower lip. You lick the tip of his thumb again, Rafe’s furious expression visible even out of the corner of your eye.

JJ’s lips twitch at the gesture, letting his thumb slide fully past your open lips, pushing into your mouth as he leans closer to you. “God dammit, you know how to tease a man, don’t you?” You kiss his thumb again before pulling back as the waitress rounds the corner, setting your food down.

Rafe is furious, chewing aggressively and holding his silverware so tight it might snap under the pressure. Sofia is rambling about something he doesn’t care about, completely unaware of his eyes remaining solely on you.

You keep your attention on JJ for the rest of your date. All things considered, he's actually a really sweet guy. Even after finishing your food, you continue to sit and chat, and you notice Rafe and Sofia doing the same. He was keeping an eye on you, occasionally glancing your way. The bistro starts to close down, so you and JJ start to head out. You fish through our purse for some more cash, but JJ’s already throwing it down, even including a small but reasonable tip.

“Thanks, JJ.” You say, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t you worry about it, sweetheart.” He says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I’m treatin’ you, alright? You don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” 

And you don’t.

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JJ gives you a ride back to the mall so you can pick up your car. After sharing a few more kisses, your back pressed against the hood, he reluctantly pulls away. 

“I had fun, sweetheart, seriously.” He whispers, his thumb rubbing your lips again before resting his hands on your hips as he leans closer. He gives one final kiss, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment. “I’ll call you later, alright?” He mutters, kissing you one final time. 

You nod. “Ride safe, okay?”

He chuckles, kissing your nose before letting you go. “Of course.” He says, putting on his helmet. “I’ll call you later. You be safe, too.” He gives a last wink before getting onto his bike and riding off. You wave him off, watching him leave the parking lot. You ride home on cloud nine, your chest feeling light, almost euphoric. You felt happy and wanted for the first time in a while.

When you go to pull into your parking spot, you see Rafe's dirt bike parked right next to it. “Fuck.” You groan softly, grabbing your purse before getting out of the car, closing the door behind you.

As you walk towards your front door, unlocking it, you hear the soft sound of music inside. You push open the door, your eyes widening when you see Rafe sitting on the edge of the couch, sitting in the dark. The only thing that gives the room any light is the streetlamp outside, the soft glow filtering through your windows. He looks up at you as you come in, a cold, blank expression on his face.

“How did you get in here?” You ask, setting your bag down.

At first, he doesn’t respond to you, sitting completely still. He watches your every movement, his eyes narrowing as you set down your bag. He stands up, slowly approaching you. He grabs your face in an iron grip, squeezing your cheeks just a bit too hard as he tilts your head up so you’re forced to look at him. There’s nothing but barely restrained anger in his eyes. “You have some gall.” He says, his voice low. “Being there with him. Letting him kiss you. Letting him touch you.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” You say. “You do that a lot.”

“Shut up.” He says, his hand still on your face. His eyes are cold and furious. “I had to watch him touch you. Kiss you. Look at you. Hold you.” His grip on your face tightens slightly. “I had to sit there and watch it. It was all I could do not to drag him out into the alley and break his goddamn fingers. I should’ve been on that date with you. That should’ve been me.”

“I’m tired of being your second choice, Rafe.” You snap. “I want a boyfriend. I don’t want to sneak around. I don’t want to be the other woman anymore.”

“Don’t you dare throw that in my face.” His voice is soft yet threatening, his fingers tightening around your face even more. “You know it’s more complicated than that. You’re not my second choice, sweetheart, you’re just-.” He sighs, frustrated. “Damn it, sweetheart, you’re just…” He shakes his head. “You’re mine. You belong to me. End of story.”

“Then fucking prove it.” You say. “You want me? You want me to belong to you? Dump Sofia. Dump her right now.”

He’s furious. He grabs your arms, squeezing them hard. “I don’t know how many times I need to tell you, I can’t yet.” He hisses, pulling you closer to him. “I can’t get rid of her until I’m ready, alright?”

“I’m not going to wait that long.” You say.

Your phone vibrates on the dining table, a phone call from JJ.

Rafe groans under his breath, his eyes darting to your phone just a few feet away. “Don’t.” He says, his grip on your arms tightening. “Don’t you pick that up.”

Your face falls slightly. “I’m not waiting around forever, Rafe. I’m not going to sit here and just hope that one day you’ll want me.”

He groans again, his grip on you bruising. “God damn it, I want you now.” He says, pulling you so close against him that you’re practically pushed flush against his chest. “I promise I’m going to break up with her, I promise, just give me some goddamn time.” His eyes are growing red and bloodshot.

You shake your head, your voice soft when you speak. “I can’t wait that long, Rafe. I won’t. You either have me now, or you don’t have me at all.”

Rafe scoffs, his eyes narrowing. “So what, you’re gonna run off to that dumbass, just because I can’t leave Sofia yet?” His grip tightens again. “Is that it, sweetheart? You’re just gonna toss me aside for some nobody?”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” You say softly. 

He lets out a shaky breath, his arms wrapping around you. He buries his face into your neck, pulling you tight against his chest. “You’re supposed to trust me, pretty girl.” He mutters, his voice trembling. “You’re supposed to trust that I’m gonna pick you, that I’m gonna break up with her.”

“I don’t want some of you. I want all of you.” You say. “I don’t want to wait around until you decide to pick me.”

“You’ve got all of me, baby, I promise you.” He mutters into your neck, his arms squeezing you tighter. “I swear to you, you’ve got all of me, I just-.” God, he sounds so desperate, and his eyes are starting to well with tears. “Sweetheart, I need you to trust me, alright? I swear I’m gonna end it with her.”

You shake your head. “Rafe, I’m sorry. I can’t wait around for you anymore.”

He whines, pulling you back by your shoulders so he can look at you. He cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. “God damn it, sweetheart, you’re killing me here. Don’t you understand? I need more time--”

His phone rings this time, lighting up from its spot on your dining table.

A call from Sofia.

You take a deep breath. You can do this. “You can either break up with her right now, or you can leave.”

He stares into your eyes, his face growing desperate. He can’t believe this is really happening. He’s going to lose you, he’s going to lose his mind, he’s going to lose the last good thing that ever happened to him. He doesn’t even know what to say.

The phone stops ringing.

You breathe out softly as it starts ringing again. “Choose, Rafe. Sofia or me. You can’t have both anymore. It’s not fair to me or her.”

He’s desperate, and panicked. He’s losing you. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he loses you. He whines again, the ring of the phone still echoing through your apartment. He doesn’t have time to think about it.

He slams his lips against yours, kissing you heatedly, passionately, desperately.

You pull away. “No, Rafe. Fucking pick something for once in your goddamned life.”

His hands are shaking as he grabs your shoulders. His breathing is shaky as he tries to pull you in for another kiss, but you won’t let him. He looks so desperate, his eyes full of panic as he stares into yours. His phone starts ringing again and finally, he slams his palm down against your dining table, the sound loud and harsh. “I-“ He pants, his voice strained. “I choose you, pretty girl. Alright?” He reaches over and picks up the phone, putting it up to his ear.

You’re honestly a little surprised. You were certain he was going to pick Sofia. You reach out and grab his free hand, rubbing your thumb against his palm. He’s still wearing that blue sweater.

He swallows, standing up straighter and gripping your hand. “Hey, So-.” He’s interrupted, Sofia’s muffled voice ringing through the phone. She sounds annoyed, maybe even a little angry. Rafe’s expression grows even more desperate as he listens to her talking, his fingers squeezing around yours almost painfully. 

Finally, Sofia stops talking. Rafe’s quiet for a long moment, swallowing hard again as he takes a long, deep breath. “Oh. Um, yeah, Sofia, about that-” He pauses again as she speaks through the phone. He swallows again, his eyes beginning to tear up as his voice breaks. “Actually, I think we should break up, I-.” More talking from Sofia, longer this time, sounding even more pissed. Rafe grimaces, biting his lip as his fingers squeeze yours even tighter.

You step forward, reaching out and wrapping your hand around his bicep, squeezing it softly, a silent sign of support.

Rafe’s eyes flick over to you, a little surprised you’re still willing to be this close to him, but he looks relieved, his eyes growing glassy and even more desperate as he stares into yours. He nods, his voice still trembling as he tries to respond to what Sofia is saying. “No, I mean it, Sofia… I’m serious, it’s over… because I- I’m actually- I’m seeing someone else.”

You squeeze his bicep again.

He closes his eyes, swallowing hard, his whole body tense and on edge. He’s never been in a situation like this before. Sofia says something else, her voice louder through the phone. Rafe sighs, running a hand through his hair, shaking his head, trying to keep his composure. “No, Sofia, I- I’m not doing this shit anymore. I’m in love with her, alright? I’ve been seeing her for months now, and I’m in love with her… and I can’t keep doing all this. I’m sorry.”

You hear Sofia screaming at him before she hangs up. Rafe tosses his phone onto the table. A soft squeak leaves your mouth when he suddenly hugs you, burying his face in your neck.

You hug him back, rubbing his back as he starts to cry. “Rafe, honey, it’s okay.”

He hugs you so damn tight. His shoulders are shaking, his breathing shallow and desperate. “Please, god…” He mutters, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Sweetheart, please don’t leave me. God dammit, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry I put you through that, please don’t leave me. I need you, sweet girl. I need you.” His voice is soft and trembling into your ear as he whispers.

“I’m not leaving.” You say softly, rubbing his back. “I’ll call JJ tomorrow and let him down easy. I’m not going anywhere. You have me.”

Rafe squeezes you tighter. He’s scared, his breathing still shaky, his grip like iron. “Promise me.” He whispers, his lips brushing against the skin of your neck, pressing gentle kisses to your skin between each word. “Please, please promise me. Promise me you’re staying with me. Promise me you aren’t going anywhere, that you won’t leave me. Please.”

“I promise.” You say, over and over, as many times as he needs. You gently take his face in your hands, wiping away some of his tears.

He lets you wipe away his tears, the shaking in his shoulders lessening. He keeps his face close to yours, his arms still wrapped around you. He nuzzles his nose against yours gently, leaning his forehead against yours as he closes his eyes. “Thank you.” He mutters, his voice still trembling, barely audible. “Thank you, baby. You’re not leaving me. You’re still staying with me. You’re still mine.” His hand lifts to gently cup your cheek.

You kiss him, gently at first. He lets you lead the kiss. It’s gentle, and soft, and tender, he just wants to feel your lips on his, needs to feel them against his. But after a moment, his hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer, wanting more, needing more. His lips move against yours more hungrily now. You eagerly match the hungry pace.

You shiver as his hands travel down from your waist to your lower back, then to your ass, grabbing and squeezing it. There’s a new desperation in his kiss, in his grip, in his whole being. It’s like you’ve finally gotten through to him, finally broken through the bullshit and made him realize just how much he needs you. He eagerly picks you up, and you let him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carries you into your bedroom.

The bed squeaks as he throws you down onto it. Rafe kneels at the end of it, grabbing your ankles and tugging you towards him. He’s quick to remove your tights and your skirt. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m gonna make it up to you. I’m gonna be a good boy.”

“You are a good boy.” You say gently as you lift your hips. He slides the tights all the way down, kissing up your legs.

Rafe groans, loving the way you call him ‘good boy.’ You can feel the smile that spreads across his lips as he kisses along your legs. He kisses his way up your thighs, stopping to bite at your skin, leaving behind bruises.  He reaches your hips, yanking down your panties and tossing them away. He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your hip. He looks up, meeting your eyes. “You’re so pretty, baby.”

You bite your lip. "Are you sure you want to do this?”

Rafe nods, moving his hands to grip your hips. “I'm sure. I want this.” His voice is firm, filled with determination. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh before trailing his lips higher. He nuzzles against your cunt, inhaling deeply. “Fuck...you smell so good.”

He parts your folds with his fingers, revealing how wet you already are for him. He licks his lips hungrily before diving in, his tongue lapping at your slit eagerly. He moans into your pussy, the vibrations making you gasp and arch off the bed. His hands grip your hips tighter, holding you in place as he eats you out like a starving man. “Mmmm...so fuckin' sweet,” he mumbles between long licks.

A moan escapes your lips, your back arching off the mattress as pleasure courses through your body. “Oh god, Rafe…” You pant, your fingers tangling in his hair. “Fuck…”

Rafe growls low in his throat. He doubles his efforts, his tongue delving deeper, swirling around your clit. He sucks on it gently, flicking the bud with the tip of his tongue. His hands slide up to cup your breasts, thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your top. He pinches and tugs at the hard peaks, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core as you squeal, squirming underneath him.

“Look at you. So responsive,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “Gonna make you come so hard, baby.” His nose nudges against your clit as he tongues your entrance. You squeal, your back arching off of the bed. You reach up and tug on one of your nipples, your pussy gushing on his face.

Rafe laps up your juices greedily, his tongue thrusting inside you, fucking your dripping cunt. He moans at the taste of you, more turned on than ever. He reaches down with one hand, unbuckling his belt. His cock throbs in his slacks and he can’t take it anymore, edging closer to your legs. Caught up in the smell, taste, and feel of you, he starts to hump your calf, his thighs squeezing your leg to steady it. He moans into your cunt, pulling away from your little clit for only a second before latching back on.

He continues to suck and nibble on your clit while finger-fucking you roughly, plunging two digits deep into your tight cunt. “You're so fuckin' wet for me, baby,” he grunts, breaking the seal from your pussy to speak. “Love eating this sweet cunt.” 

Your toes curl. “You didn't ask if you could hump me, baby.” Normally Rafe is always the dominant one, using you like a personal fuck toy, but with his face buried between your legs and his cock rubbing up against your calf, you feel like taking charge.

Rafe whines, stopping his hips. “Baby, fuck, please let me hump you! It feels so good, eating you out feels so fucking good.” His breath is hot against your slick folds, his tongue darting out to lap at your juices, savoring the flavor of you. He gazes up at you, sucking your clit directly into his mouth.

Your back arches deliciously, and you nod. “You can hump me, baby. Make yourself feel good.”

With a relieved groan, Rafe resumes humping your leg, his thick cock sliding against your skin through his pants. He rocks his hips faster, the friction driving him wild. His tongue never leaves your clit, continuing to swirl and suckle the sensitive bundle of nerves. “You like watching me hump you, don't you?” he rasps, his voice strained. “Seeing me lose control because of you... Fuck, I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too,” You moan, hips bucking in his face. “Good boy. Keep going.”

Hearing you call him ‘good boy’, Rafe lets out a satisfied grunt. He increases his pace, his hips rocking against your leg even harder. He continues to lick and suck on your clit, driving you crazy with pleasure. He can feel himself getting close, his balls tightening and his cock throbbing. “God, baby, I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum!” he warns, his voice shaky with anticipation. “Cum with me, please!”

Rafe's warning turns into a guttural moan as he finally loses control. His hips jerk erratically, grinding his clothed erection against your leg as he orgasms. Thick ropes of cum spurt from his cock, soaking through his pants and staining your skin. At the same time, he sucks your clit into his mouth, his tongue working overtime to bring you to climax alongside him.

As the waves of pleasure subside, he slowly pulls away, licking his lips clean of your essence. He climbs up onto the bed next to you, his eyes glazed with satisfaction and adoration. “I love you. I love you so much,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You're so fucking hot when you cum for me. Such a good girl.”

“I love you too,” You say, grabbing him and pulling him closer.

He looks down at his slacks, soaked and covered with cum. He hums, reaching up and cupping your face. “Do you wanna clean me up, baby?”

You take a deep breath, a small smile gracing your face. “Yeah.”

Rafe grins, climbing up to lean against the headboard as you start to lick the wet spot on his slacks.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

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