#you have to stay by his side for a few days

[brokenbarnes]

Steady Mind

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Separate from Haunted Eyes, after being taken by Hydra, Bucky identifies you as his handler. You teach him that not all handlers inflict pain, bringing him back to the present.

Warnings: mentions of canon level violence

It had been one month, three days and twelve hours since they took Bucky.

A routine mission that turned out to be not so routine. An abandoned HYDRA base awakened like a sleeping giant, putting a bullet in your leg, dragging Bucky away after he had been knocked unconscious by two large goons. You screamed for him, they left you to bleed out in pool of your own blood.

You had to return to the compound without your partner in crime, sobbing until they put you under for surgery. The last thing you remember was Steve holding your arms down as they slid the needle in your arm, his eyes sad as you’ve ever seen them.

Despite the healing hole in your leg, you insisted on sitting in on every meeting about Bucky’s whereabouts, limping onto the Quinjet to accompany the team to scout out any possible locations.

You had barely slept in a month, lying awake in the bed you shared with the missing person. Every time you looked in the mirror, you could see the heartbreak and exhaustion clinging to you like a wet blanket. Shadows under your eyes that looked like bruises, shoulders slumped, your mind fuzzy; spinning a million different directions.

This time Steve didn’t protest as you limped onto the jet, it’s destination a newly discovered hidden HYDRA base. You slumped in the copilot seat, you were past getting your hopes up. At this point, it was just to check it off the list.

Steve steered the jet south, landing in the dense forest, somewhere in the Andes Mountains of South America. You saw on the computer screen, a hidden base carved into the steep mountain side.

The team left the Quinjet, armed with whatever they could think of. There was so much uncertainty, nobody knew what to expect.

You were left behind in the jet, sitting down in front of multiple monitors. Part of your agreement was staying behind was that you could be their eyes and ears on the ground. Your leg was not quite up to speed yet and you didn’t want to hold the team back. You got to work accessing any local cameras, finding those inside and outside the base.

The team worked silently, efficiently. You listened to them over the comms, there were no jokes, no laughing, only efficient communication. This was Bucky, it was different.

You monitored cameras as the team cleared the base, making sure there weren’t any surprises like last time. Surprises get people killed. This must have been an old base, because there were very few cameras inside. You had one of Tony’s robots take a scan of the building, at least you could monitor where the team was inside. An hour went by before Steve addressed you and the tone of his voice gave you chills.

“Y/N.”

“Go ahead, Steve,” you responded, legs going numb.

“We need you.”

You stood up abruptly, your nearly healed stitches screaming in protest. You grabbed your utility belt, clipping it around your waist with your weapons. With your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you hit the button that opened the ramp of the Quinjet.

It was a moderate hike to the base entrance, but you don’t remember much of it. Ignoring the pain in your leg, you stumbled over the rocky cliffs, damp soil catching on the back of your tactical pants as you ran.

Steve met you at the entrance of the base, his face pale and shaken. The intense sun doing little for his ashen complexion.

“Steve! Is he in there?” You gasped for air, slowing to a stop in front of him. “Is he alive?”

He dipped his head, nodding slowly. With his thumbs hooked in his belt loops and his shoulders hunched, he looked as small as he once had.

“What are we waiting for?” You went to push past him, into the entrance of the labyrinth like Theseus but without Ariadne’s string. “Let’s go get him out of there!”

“Y/N, wait,” his voice was hollow, grabbing you by the arm.

“What?”

He took a deep shuddering breath, looking you in the eye. “It’s not our Bucky.”

Realization settled in your chest, the only reason they would want him would be to activate him.

“I want to see him,” your voice was low.

“He’s dangerous.”

“He’s Bucky,” you insisted. “Take me to him.”

Steve became your string, leading you through the dark maze that was the HYDRA compound. The main hallway led you past a variety of rooms, some looked like a war room, some looked like an interrogation center, other’s a sterile doctor’s office.

His gait slowed in front of a heavily locked door, it’s appearance similar to a bank vault. Your stomach twisted.

“He’s in there?” You whispered, disgust lacing your tone.

Steve nodded, “it’s for everyone’s safety.”

“Let me in there,” you reached for the lock.

“Y/N, he could hurt you,” he grabbed your arm but you shook him off.

“I need to see that he’s alive!” Your voice turned raspy, ragged with the thought of being so close to him. “Please, Steve.

His resolve crumbled, he reached for the lock to the cell door. As the door opened, Steve moved in front of you, blocking your view into the cell. You weaved around him, attempting to catch a glimpse of your soldier.

When you did, your stomach dropped.

He stood in the far corner of the cement cell, his posture defensive, eyes empty. You breath caught in your throat, he had fading bruises around his eyes, blood dried down his chin and throat.

“Bucky,” you darted around the captain before he could stop you.

The Asset’s eyes flickered to you, then over to Steve quickly. As you approached, the muscles in his face tightened, as if he was anticipating a beating.

“Bucky,” you whispered, slowing your approach. “Are you hurt, Honey?”

He eyed you apprehensively, as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. You knew that this was not the man you last saw, defending you until the cattle prods had knocked him unconscious.

“Soldat?” You willed your voice to carry a different tone.

He nodded curtly, “handler.”

It felt as if all the air had been punched from your lungs, your boyfriend has just uttered the term that haunts his nightmares. The multiple people over the decades he was under the thumb of Hydra that have caused him inexcusable pain.

Now, he’s identified you as his handler. Eying Steve suspiciously, as if he wasn’t sure if he could trust him or not.

You tried against in English, Russian vocabulary lacking considerably. “Yes, I am your handler. And I am going to call you Bucky.”

He tilted his head at you, confused, but nodding eventually to agree with you. You were unsure about your role as his handler, making it up as you go.

“Bucky, are you hurt?” You tried again; your voice devoid of its usual warmth.

He shook his head, eyes focusing on the wall over your left shoulder. When you turned your head to follow his eye sight, you could see a drying brown stain, rolling down the wall and finishing in splatters on the floor.

You looked at Steve, who was trying hard to keep it together. “Cap, let’s get him outside. He could use some fresh air.”

Steve nodded, turning stiffly towards the door and leading you back into the maze. Bucky followed, a few paces behind. You let him follow the two of you, not wanting him to feel as if he was being chased.

He followed like an obedient servant, only a few paces behind you, foot steps completely silent. You had to turn your head over your shoulder to make sure he was still behind you.

Outside in the intense sunlight, Bucky was pale as a ghost. He was watching you with careful eyes, awaiting his next orders.

“Take a seat, Bucky,” you pointed to a downed Polylepis tree. The curled, twisted trunk, half rotted from age and weather.

Apprehension crossed Bucky’s face, but he sat. To you that was evidence your Bucky was still under there, the Winter Soldier had little emotion on his face.

“Do you know who I am?” You asked, squatting down in front of him.

His hands shook, clasped together in his lap. “You are my handler.”

Another stab to the heart, you wiped your face of any devastating emotion and nodded. “Status report for your handler. Are you injured?”

The gears were turning in his mind, his beautiful blue eyes flickered from side to side. He couldn’t come up with an answer.

“That’s alright,” you said gently. “We’ll get you checked out by medical when we get home.”

“Home?”

“Mhm,” you nodded, resisting the urge to reach out and sooth your hand over his arm. “I want you to understand something.”

He nodded obediently.

“When you are with me, nobody will hurt you,” you spoke softly, gesturing back to Steve. “You have to trust me.”

He hesitated, but nodded. “Yes, Handler.”

“Call me, Y/N.”

“Y/N.”

Bucky seemed better under the sunlight, instead of the harsh, florescent lights of the cell he abandoned in. Despite the blood and the bruises, he had some color back in his cheeks but the same hollow look in his eyes.

Back on the Quinjet, he flinched as the others moved around, getting ready to return home. Usually, after a successful mission there was never a silent moment in the jet. It was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

You told Bucky to sit on the bench seat as you fetched a first aid kit. He’s eyes flitted around to everyone nervous without you there, assessing them and diagnosing who would be the biggest threat.

The jet lifted off the rocky alpine surface as you returned to Bucky. You clocked the anxiety crawling into his eyes and called his name gently.

“Remember what I said? You’re safe with me, nobody will hurt you.”

He nodded, although you knew this Bucky would find that extremely hard to believe. He flinched as Steve dropped into a seat beside him, running a hand over his tired face.

You flipped open the latch of the first aid kit, trying to steady your mind. “Alright soldier, tell me what you need.”

“The asset is not hurt,” he spoke, almost robotically.

“Hm,” you hummed, tearing open an alcohol pad and turning toward him. “Let me clean you up, then.”

As you reached toward him, you watched him fight a knee-jerk reaction. Every muscle in his body stiffened, expecting a blow. You moved slowly, trying to give his body enough time to catch up with his mind.

Your hand smoothed along his cheek, getting him to turn his head toward you. The alcohol pad probably stung as you wiped around his mouth, down his chin, but Bucky showed no reaction. His piercing blue eyes focused intently on your face as you worked.

Wiping away the blood revealed no open wounds, what was there had probably long healed over with the serum pumping through his veins. Your hand cupped his cheek, the other wiped down his neck and swooping around his hairline.

As the rest of the team started to drop off, laying down across the benches for a much needed nap, curling up in the copilots chair with the jet on autopilot; silence had settled over everything like a coat of dust. Steve tipped his head back and shut his eyes, although you weren’t sure if he was asleep or not.

You took your time, taking his hand into yours and wiping away any evidence of the cruelty he faced. You noted his knuckles were covered in fading bruises, defensive wounds. It made you smile a little bit to know he didn’t go quietly.

Bucky was confused, he had told you many times that he was not injured, he did not need care. And this was definitely not the handlers job.

“Why?” He asked quietly, just heard over Sam’s snoring across the aisle.

“Why, what?” You replied, without looking up from where you were attempting to get grime off his knuckles.

“Why are you doing this?” His voice was fragile, almost scared to use it in fear of what might come next.

You looked up into his eyes, stilling your restless hands. Bucky had a hard time reading the emotion on your face, sadness, guilt, and something else that wasn’t familiar to him. Something warm, something kind.

“I don’t want you sitting in your own blood,” you spoke carefully. “It’ll make it easier for the medics to check you over.”

“I don’t… I don’t want…” his words died off, almost regretting starting to speak.

Your Bucky was also hesitant with doctors, his checkered past involved plenty of awful experiences with medical staff. 70 years of poking and prodding, little anesthesia and dubious consent.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” your thumb was sweeping gently over the inside of his wrist. “But I want to make sure you’re alright, even if you feel fine. You’ve been gone from us for a long time.”

He tilted his head in confusion, “how long have I been gone?”

“About a month,” you could feel how tired you were with that statement. It had been too long and now he was finally here, maybe not all in one piece but he was safe.

He squeezed his eyes shut, wincing in a way that made you sit up straighter. “You… You were hurt.”

“Yes, Bucky.”

“And I… And I…” he shook his head, his hand clenched in yours. “My head-“

“Don’t worry about it, Honey,” you could see the headache forming behind his eyes as he struggled to recall memories. “Why don’t you try and sleep?”

The stubborn man still somewhere inside him shook his head. But he let you tip your head down onto his shoulder and close your eyes for the duration of the flight.

When the Quinjet touched down at the compound, Bucky followed you off the jet and into the building. He refused to go to the infirmary, but agreed to follow you up to the residential floor to shower.

The bedroom you shared with Bucky was a safe haven, soft lighting, comfortable bed, books covering both nightstands; dogeared and annotated by the both of you. So many nights spend together in comfortable silence, sometimes reading aloud a line for the other to hear.

“Recognize this place?” You asked, setting down your duffel bag down beside the dresser. Unclipping your utility belt, setting it on top of the dresser where you usually left it.

You watched as Bucky turned in a slow circle, taking in each and every detail he laid his eyes on.

“Maybe,” his lips moved.

He seemed overwhelmed, frustrated with the unfamiliarity of the bedroom, probably the aches and pains that covered his body. You helped him make a decision.

“Bucky, why don’t you take a shower,” you suggested, heading toward the closet for a clean set of clothes. “I’ll get you something comfortable to wear.”

Not wanting to be away from him, you grabbed a bundle of clothes, tucked it under your arm with a clean towel and returned to lead him to the bathroom.

After setting the clothes and towels on the counter, you reached inside the shower and turned it to a comfortable temperature. Bucky watched you carefully, swaying slightly on his feet. You wondered when was the last time he slept.

“Come feel, does this temperature work for you?” You asked over the noise of the shower, gesturing him closer.

Bucky shuffled forward, sticking his flesh hand under the spray and nodding to approve the temperature.

“I’ll be just outside-“

“No!” Burst from his mouth before he could stop it. “Could you please… Could you please stay?”

“Of course,” your eyes stung with unshed tears. “I’ll stay.”

You turned around while he undressed to give him some much needed privacy. He undressed efficiently, leaving his clothes in a neat pile on the bathmat. The glass door opened and shut before you turned around.

Sitting cross legged on the counter, you thought about how many times you had done this for your Bucky. Showering together was intimate enough, but sharing the space, just knowing you were on the other side of the door was enough.

You let yourself relax for a moment as he showered, exhaustion settling into your aching bones and the healing pain returned to your leg. All you wanted was to shower off the nervous sweat you accumulated from the last 24 hours, pull on your favorite pajamas and curl up next to your Bucky in bed.

Bucky opened the glass door, you handed him a towel and he dried off quickly. He seemed to be relaxing a little now, in his own clothes and no longer smelling like he hadn’t showered in a week.

“This is what you do usually after you shower,” you reached for his hair brush, pressing it into his hands. You laid out his tooth brush, beard trimmer, deodorant and anything else you could think of.

It was probably muscle memory at this point, he brushed the tangles from his hair, brushed his teeth with his left hand and trimmed his unruly scruff short. Using his left hand told you there were still remnants of the Winter Soldier lingering around in his consciousness.

While he cleaned up, you took a quick shower and scrubbed the day’s worries from your body. Per your request, Bucky brought you a fresh towel and a pair of pajamas. His cheeks were pink as you got dressed, rubbing a towel through your hair.

“Your leg,” he murmured, eyes straying to the pink, raised scar on your leg.

“Mhm,” you nodded, hanging both towels up to dry. “I’m okay.”

Guilt crossed his features, you reached out and held out your hand, palm up. “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

Bucky fit his warm hand into yours, letting you lead him back out into the main room. He watched as you flipped open the covers, turning on the lamp beside the bed.

His mind felt fuzzy, watching you pad around the room, hair wet and in soft clothes. A headache like a lightning strike burst behind his eyes, making him press his hands to the bridge of his nose.

“My… my head.”

“I know, Sweetheart,” your voice was soft. Sweetheart, was that him? “Come to bed.”

He laid his aching body on the soft mattress, letting his handler – no, his love, cover him up with heavy blankets. His head felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, but somehow it didn’t matter because he was laying next to you.

He closed his heavy eyes, feeling his body relax for the time in a month. Next to you, sleep came easy.

The next morning, Bucky blinked slowly as the bedroom came into focus. The bedsheets were tangled around your legs, twisted up after a good night’s sleep. A heavy weight on his chest kept him anchored to the present, not reliving the past month, you were asleep on his chest.

He reached out and stroked your hair, enjoying the feeling of the silky tendrils running through his fingers. You stirred your sleep, pressing your face into his soft sleep shirt. You rubbed the fabric against your nose as you woke up, blinking up at him in the soft light.

“Heya Doll,” he murmured.

Your lips curled up in a smile, sliding your hand up the center of his chest. “Bucky,” you breathed.

He pressed his lips together in a way you knew meant he was struggling. “I’m sorry you had to see me as him.”

You sat up, turning around to face him. There were still shadows under your eyes in a way that made his stomach sick. He slid his heel up the mattress, letting you lean against his knee under the covers.

“What do you remember?” You asked.

“I remember thinking you were my handler,” he mumbled.

You nodded, reaching out for his hand. He enjoyed the way your hand felt in his, nothing had ever felt more right.

“Thank you for taking care of him,” he murmured. He had been working on this habit of separating himself from the Winter Soldier, it helped to refer to him like he was completing separate from his body.

“Of course, Honey,” you nodded.

“Nobody has ever taken care of him before,” he whispered, eyes turning wistful. “You are the nicest handler I’ve ever had.”

You tried to smile, lifting the corner of your mouth up but it fell short. He tugged you forward, until you were laying on top of him. He loved the feeling of your weight holding him down, keeping him in the present.

“I’ll always be here for you,” you whispered, pressing your face into his neck. He shivered at the feeling of your breath on his skin. “No matter who you are, no matter what happens.”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, feeling tears sting in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.

If he had to choose anyone to be his handler, he would pick you in a heartbeat. Aside from Steve, you were the only one to never doubt him, to show him unconditional love in a way he hadn’t felt since the 40’s.

“No matter what,” he whispered quietly, letting his eyes close once more.

[isaadore]

ATTACHED CONNOR BEDARD

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎pairing connor bedard x reader

SUMMARY connor isn’t the type to say outright how much he loves you. but you didn’t need him to, not when he showed it in every little thing he did. whether it was following you around the apartment, pulling you into his arms the second you sat down, or finding excuses to keep you close, one thing was clear. he was completely, hopelessly attached to you. word count 0.6k

warnings fluff, established relationship, connor being soft and clingy, minor teasing

note not a part of my 1k celebration but i thought we all needed this with how connor’s season is going on rn 😕

CB98 MASTERLIST MAIN MASTERLIST

IT ALWAYS STARTED small.

You woke up first, rolling onto your side to grab your phone. But before you could even reach for it, a strong arm tightened around your waist, pulling you back into the warmth of the bed.

Connor buried his face in the crook of your neck, sighing sleepily against your skin. “No.”

You stifled a laugh. “No?”

“Stay.”

His voice was muffled and low, still heavy with sleep, but there was no room for argument. You were stuck, wrapped up in him. His grip was just firm enough to keep you from slipping away.

You exhaled through your nose, amused, and brushed your fingers through his hair. “You’re clingy in the mornings.”

“Not clingy,” he corrected, though the way he tugged you closer said otherwise. “Just comfortable.”

You shook your head, but your chest felt warm, your heart softening at how much he didn’t want you to leave yet.

Still, after a few more minutes, you finally manage to wiggle free, much to Connor’s displeasure. He groaned dramatically, rolling onto his stomach as you sat up.

“I’ll be back in, like, five minutes,” you promised, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head before slipping out of bed.

You thought that was the end of it.

But then, twenty minutes later, you were standing in the kitchen making coffee when you felt it. A familiar presence lingered behind you, followed by the quiet shuffle of socked feet.

You glanced over your shoulder, and sure enough, Connor was there. His hoodie was wrinkled, his hair was a mess, and his eyes were still half-lidded with sleep.

“You good?” you asked, sipping from your mug.

He grunted in response, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you from behind, chin resting on your shoulder.

You huffed a laugh. “Connor.”

“What?” he mumbled against your hoodie.

“I thought you were sleeping.”

“I was.” He paused. “Then I woke up, and you weren’t there.”

You blinked, realizing he had gotten up just to follow you. “So you came all the way to the kitchen?”

He nodded against your shoulder like it was the most logical thing in the world.

“You’re impossible.”

“Mm.” He hummed, unbothered, and just tightened his arms around you.

And really, what could you say? That was just how he was. He was never too obvious about it, but he always found reasons to be close.

It happened again when you were sitting on the couch later that afternoon. You had your laptop balanced on your knees, fully focused on whatever you were watching, when Connor came in from the other room and wordlessly flopped down beside you.

You barely had a chance to react before he shifted closer, his arm draping over the back of the couch, his knee knocking against yours.

You glanced over. “Comfortable?”

“Not yet.”

Before you could question it, he moved again, pulling you into his side, letting you settle against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You paused for a second, then shook your head, amused. “You do realize you’ve been practically glued to me all day, right?”

Connor exhaled, long and dramatic, like he was thinking about it. Then, after a beat, he said, “So?”

You snorted. “So, is there a reason, or are you just really attached to me all of a sudden?”

He shrugged, playing with the hem of your hoodie. “Dunno. Just like having you close.”

Your heart clenched, and maybe you were a little obsessed with him too.

“Well, lucky for you,” you said, reaching up to ruffle his hair, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Connor hummed, satisfied, and pressed a quick kiss to your temple before relaxing against you completely.

Yeah. He was definitely attached.

But honestly, you didn’t mind one bit.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ CB98 MASTERLIST ✷ MAIN MASTERLIST

[theemporium]

my birthday just passed 🎉 but can you do a blurb with Luke having a full day planned since it was during the four nations break? a little smutty if you’re feeling spicy?

(i’m working on forgiving you after cherry and luke you still sent me into a spiral)

i know he only went to michigan for the break but i don't care and that's the joys of fiction! anyways, happy belated birthday!! thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Not to be dramatic or anything but Luke was pretty sure this was one of the best things he had ever splurged on with his NHL contract.

As much as he needed hockey like he needed air, there was something downright exhausting by time the halfway mark in the season hit. He knew they were getting closer to playoffs, that it would be one of the most important stretches, that his mind should be focused purely on hockey. He also knew that there were people banking on him being on the Team USA roster with his brothers, to take on the honour of representing his country in a best-on-best tournament.

But it was really hard to care about any of that when it was February and he was currently curled up on a sunlounger with you beside him in a hot country with weather that made winter feel like a nonexistent memory. 

“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” Luke murmured against your shoulder, his eyes squinting even beneath his sunglasses as he glanced at the book you were currently reading. 

“This is me relaxing,” you retorted, grinning a little when he let out a huff. “I’m not stopping you from napping, baby.”

“You should be napping with me,” he corrected as his hand skimmed up and down your side. “Or at least giving me some attention.”

You snorted. “Needy.” 

“I flew you to a whole new country so I could spend ten days of uninterrupted time with you alone,” Luke replied, pressing a few kisses against your skin as he spoke. “How is my neediness a surprise to you?” 

“No but I like when you admit it,” you grinned as you turned to look at him over your shoulder. “Plus, you would have been this needy even if we stayed back in the States.”

“Yeah but here I can be needy in the privacy of our fancy ass villa and private beach,” Luke grinned, leaning in to press his lips against yours for a few moments before he pulled away long enough to speak. “People don’t read when they have a private beach, baby.”

You bit back the urge to giggle. “Oh yeah? What do they do then?”

“Loads of things,” Luke mused, his fingers dancing along the string of your bikini bottoms. “Most of them say clothes are overrated.” 

“Is tha so?” You hummed, pushing back enough until your ass was pressed against the bulge in his swim trunks. “You gonna fuck me on our private beach, baby? Gonna take advantage of the fact no one is gonna see me but you?” 

“Mhm,” he nodded, his heart thumping wildly in his chest as he ground his hips against your ass. “Much better than that book of yours, babe. Promise.” 

You grinned at the sight of his already flushed cheeks. “Get those trunks off and then we’ll see, Hughes.”

.

[vigilante-3073]

Daddy's Credit Card

Cullen Family x Female Vampire Reader (Platonic)

PART 10

Summary: Bella endures her transition to a Vampire while Y/N's condition continues to worsen.

TW: Mentions of death/injury/illness, lack of regard for the feelings of others, medical testing, needles, blood.

The Cullen family was left unscathed after Jacob imprinted on Renesmee. The Wolves were forced to abandon their quest to kill the child, but tensions were still high. Y/N had been released from her quarantine and had finally been allowed to move about the house freely.

She took full advantage of her newfound freedom, but there were some things that Carlisle still wouldn't allow. Y/N was not to step foot outside the house unless someone was with her. She became quickly exhausted after any kind of physical activity and her heart beat would become irregular. Carlisle was strict about her having a companion in case something were to happen.

Y/N walked along the road with Jacob Black by her side. He had been focused on Renesmee since he had imprinted, Bella was still in transition and he felt responsible for the baby girl. Jacob had been incredibly tense as he watched over Renesmee and Carlisle encouraged him to take a moment away. Jacob went reluctantly and the pair walked in silence until he looked over at her.

"Why exactly do you need a babysitter?" Jacob asked.

"I'm dying," Y/N stated simply.

"What? I thought that Vampires couldn't die unless they're torn apart," Jacob said.

"Apparently they can... I bleed, I cry, I eat and my body is falling apart for no apparent reason," Y/N said.

"That sucks," Jacob said.

Y/N huffed a laugh, "Yeah, it does," She replied.

"Still doesn't really explain why I'm following you around though," Jacob said.

"Carlisle said that my heart beat is irregular. He's worried that something could happen to me while I'm alone," Y/N stated.

"Have you left your house at all since you started becoming human?" Jacob asked.

She glared at him, "I am not a human," She corrected quickly.

"Well, whatever you are then," He amended.

"No, you and your wolf friends had my house surrounded. Remember?" Y/N questioned.

"So, you're pretty new to not being a bloodsucker then, huh?" He asked.

"I guess you could say that," She replied.

"Do you want to go into town for a bit? Maybe we can get some actual food," He offered.

"I would do anything to leave that place right now. Since Bella died, Carlisle has devoted the entirety of his time to testing me for anything he can possibly think of. Then I have to sit there and watch Edward stay by his wife as she magically comes back from the dead. Don't even get me started on that rapidly growing demon that they produced... It's like my own personal hell," Y/N said.

Jacob laughed and Y/N shot him a serious look, "I didn't realize that I said something funny," Y/N said.

"It may not be funny, but it is ironic because I was in love with Bella and I was ready to kill Edward when she died. Then I went to get the baby to hand over to the pack and in some ridiculous twist of fate, I actually imprinted on her. Now I practically live in the house with the guy I hate, the girl I used to love and their daughter," Jacob said.

"If I weren't going to die horrifically, I might actually say that you have it worse," Y/N replied.

"We're just two of the luckiest people around, huh?" He questioned, she nodded.

"Where are you taking me then?" Y/N asked.

"A diner. I'm going to get you the biggest and most greasy burger they offer along with fries and a milkshake," Jacob listed.

"All of that sounds absolutely repulsive, but I'm excited to try it," She said.

"Good," Jacob nodded.

The pair returned to the house and Y/N went up to tell Carlisle that she was leaving. She returned after a few minutes with a pair of car keys dangling from her finger.

"He said no to the motorcycle," She stated.

"Maybe another day," Jacob replied, holding out his hand.

Y/N placed the keys into his palm, "I'm definitely riding on a motorcycle before I die. I'm trusting you to make that happen," She said.

"I can definitely do that for you," Jacob assured.

They made their way down to the garage and got into one of the cars. Jacob started the car and opened the garage before driving out onto the road.

Y/N settled back into her seat as she looked out the window, "Just for my own curiosity, how long does it usually take for someone to come back from the dead?" Jacob questioned.

"Usually takes about three days. The morphine that Bella had in her system could definitely have an effect on it though," Y/N stated.

"Three days of waiting," Jacob huffed.

"At least she's not awake and screaming like the rest of us were," Y/N said.

"It hurt that badly?" Jacob asked, glancing over at her.

"The worst pain I've ever felt. It was like every nerve being scorched and having your skin peeled from your body. It was misery," She said.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that," He said.

"It gave me a lifetime of pain and loneliness like I have never known before. I would have chosen death a thousand times over," Y/N replied.

"Who was it?" Jacob asked.

"I don't know what you mean," Y/N said, looking over at him.

"Who was it that broke your heart?" Jacob clarified.

Y/N hesitated, "Carlisle first and Edward second," She answered.

Jacob scoffed, "Well, with that information, you definitely earned the title of having the worst situation possible," Jacob said.

"I've always been an overachiever," She deadpanned with a smirk.

Jacob smiled as he pulled into the parking lot of the diner, "Ready to eat?" He asked.

"I'm absolutely ravenous," She replied.

The pair got out of the car and made their way into the restaurant, they were sat in a booth and given a moment to look over the menu.

Y/N stared at the laminated sheet with wide eyes, finding herself overwhelmed by the options as she slowly opened the menu.

"Wow, this is a lot of stuff," She mumbled.

"Do you want me to just order for you?" Jacob questioned.

"That would be lovely," Y/N replied.

"Do you have any preference on milkshake flavor?" He asked.

"The last meal that I had as a living person was probably boiled cabbage and stale bread. You can pick whatever you want and I'm sure it will be better than anything I've ever eaten," She replied, closing the menu and sliding it to the edge of the table.

"Point taken," He nodded.

The waitress returned to their table with her notepad and pen in hand, "What can I get for you two today?" She questioned.

"For drinks, we'd like one chocolate and one vanilla milkshake. And for food, we'll get two of the bacon cheeseburgers with fries," Jacob listed.

"Perfect, I'll get that going for you," The waitress nodded, collecting the menus and moving off to the kitchen.

"Why did you get two different flavor drinks?" Y/N asked.

"So you can try both and keep whichever one you like best," Jacob shrugged.

"That's very kind of you," She said.

"It's no big deal," He replied.

"It is to me," Y/N stated.

The drinks came out quickly and the food followed shortly after. Jacob put two plastic straws into the milkshakes and slid them across the table to her.

Y/N leaned forward, taking a sip of the vanilla milkshake before moving over to the chocolate and taking another sip.

"What's the verdict?" He questioned.

"I like the lighter one more," She said, tapping a finger against the side of the first glass.

Jacob slid the chocolate milkshake back over to his side of the table, "Good choice. The vanilla one is my personal favorite," He said, taking a sip from the same straw.

"You can have it if you like it more," Y/N said, moving to slide it over to him.

"You're the one who's new to human food. You get to keep the milkshake that you like best," Jacob said, resting his hand over hers and pushing it back over to her side of the table.

They ate and chatted about their lives before reluctantly returning to the Cullen house.

"I had fun tonight. You're pretty cool for an ex-bloodsucker," Jacob said.

"I had fun too and I suppose I should say thank you," Y/N replied.

"It was definitely meant as a compliment," Jacob assured, "And you can feel free to come find me whenever you want to go on another nature walk or do something ridiculously stupid just to cross it off your bucket list," He continued.

"I will definitely take you up on that," Y/N nodded.

"I'll see you tomorrow... Sleep well," He said.

"You too," Y/N replied, making her way up the stairs to her bedroom.

...

Y/N stood in the shower, lathering the shampoo into her hair before stepping under the water. She washed the soap from her scalp, allowing the warm water to run over her skin. Y/N lowered her arms as her heart began to race in her chest, she let out a shaky exhale and leaned into the wall.

Y/N suddenly felt lightheaded and exhausted, breathing heavily as she slid down the wall weakly. Her arms fell in front of her body limply as she leaned into the wall, eyelids fluttering as she struggled to remain conscious.

"Carlisle," She called softly, her voice was barely audible over the sound of the water.

The shower curtain was pulled back suddenly before Carlisle reached in and turned off the water. He stepped away, grabbing her robe before kneeling down next to the bathtub.

Carlisle maneuvered her body around easily, slipping her arms through the sleeves and wrapping the robe around her body. He tied the belt at her waist before slipping his arms underneath her and lifting her into his arms.

Y/N's head rested on his shoulder as she closed her eyes, head pounding as her heart raced in her chest. He carried her into her bedroom before carefully setting her down on her bed.

Carlisle brought over the vitals machine, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around her arm and placing the probe on her finger. Y/N grimaced as the cuff began to inflate, but she was far too exhausted to say anything.

"Your blood pressure is incredibly low," Carlisle stated, reaching over and resting his hand on the side of her neck.

His fingers found her pulse point easily, feeling the rapid pulsation of her heart against his fingertips.

"I don't feel good," She mumbled shakily.

"I'll get you one fluids and we'll see if that helps," Carlisle said.

Y/N closed her eyes, unable to do anything besides breathe as her body began to shiver. Carlisle returned with a bag of fluids and a primed line, hanging it up on the pole beside her bed.

"Are you cold?" He questioned, noticing the way her body trembled.

She nodded silently and Carlisle stepped into her closet, he returned with a long sleeved shirt and a pair of loose sweatpants.

"Not mine," Y/N mumbled.

"Alice thought that you should have something comfortable and warm to wear," Carlisle said, setting the items on the edge of her bed.

He helped her dry off and get dressed before getting her settled in the bed. Carlisle sat down on the edge of the bed beside her, tying the tourniquet around her arm and flexing her wrist as his eyes scanned her skin.

Carlisle cleaned her skin with an alcohol wipe before opening his needle and removing the cap. Y/N turned her head away as he pushed the needle into her vein, he held the cannula in place as he retracted the needle. He connected the tubing to the cannula quickly before laying a clear dressing on top of it.

Carlisle pressed the edges against her skin carefully before reaching up to grab his IV tubing and connecting it to her. Y/N looked over as he stood up, programming the machine and opening the roller clamps.

The fluid slowly began to drip as the infusion started, "You should try and get some rest. I'll be back to check on you in a bit," Carlisle said, she nodded.

Y/N drifted off into a dreamless sleep before Carlisle had even stepped foot into the hallway. She slept for hours, body shivering silently as she struggled to retain her warmth. Carlisle added a few more blankets on top of her, but nothing seemed to help with the icy chill that had come over her.

Carlisle slowly made his way into the living room where the family was sitting. Esme held Renesmee in her arms while Rosalie watched them with a fond smile.

"Jacob, could I borrow you for a moment?" Carlisle asked.

"Sure," He nodded, standing up from his seat and following Carlisle down the hallway.

"I have a bit of an odd request and you can refuse if it makes you uncomfortable," Carlisle said.

"What is it?" Jacob asked.

"Y/N had a bit of a medical episode tonight," Carlisle started.

"Is she okay?" Jacob questioned.

"She's fine, but she's incredibly cold and I can't seem to get her temperature up," Carlisle said.

"I can definitely help with that," Jacob nodded.

"Thank you," Carlisle replied, leading Jacob down the hallway to her bedroom.

He opened the door and stepped inside, allowing Jacob to make his way into the room before closing the door gently.

"Jeez, how many blankets do you have her buried under?" Jacob asked with a smile.

"Five, I believe," Carlisle stated.

Jacob moved around to the other side of the bed, stepping out of his boots before lifting the blankets and laying down beside her.

Jacob shifted closer to her and she turned towards him in her sleep, immediately drawn in by the heat he gave off. Jacob wrapped his arms around her and guided her body into his side.

Y/N let out a soft breath, her head resting on his chest as she soaked up his warmth, "She's freezing," Jacob muttered, rubbing his hand over her back gently.

"I'm not much help in that department, unfortunately," Carlisle said.

"Well, I got it from here," Jacob assured.

"Just be conscious of the IV and call for me if something happens," Carlisle said, Jacob nodded.

Carlisle made his way out of the bedroom, closing the door behind himself carefully. Jacob settled back into the pillows, brushing his hand over her back until he eventually drifted off to sleep beside her.

Jacob awoke when the sky was dark, he turned his head to see Carlisle standing at the bedside. He hung a new bag of fluids on the IV pole before connecting it and pressing a few buttons on the machine to restart the infusion.

Y/N stirred slightly in his arms as Carlisle programmed the pump, eyes fluttering open slowly. Her brows furrowed as she pulled away from him slightly.

"What's going on?" She mumbled.

"You were cold," Jacob replied.

"How are you feeling?" Carlisle questioned.

"I'm fine," Y/N replied, laying back down on her back beside Jacob.

"I can go if you want," Jacob offered.

"No, it's too cold in this place," She huffed, lifting the blankets up higher over her body as her teeth chattered slightly.

"Here," Jacob smiled, reaching out and pulling her closer to his side.

He wrapped his arm around her and she leaned her head back against his shoulder as his hand settled on her arm, "Better?" He questioned, she nodded and closed her eyes. Carlisle smiled softly to himself, quietly exiting the room and closing the door.

"I know you're not here for me, but I still appreciate it," Y/N said softly.

"You're probably one of the best living people in this house right now. Us humans need to stick together," Jacob said.

"Still not human," Y/N mumbled tiredly.

"Whatever you say," Jacob replied, rubbing his hand over her arm gently.

...

Carlisle opened the door to Y/N's bedroom and paused when he realized that the bed was empty. Jacob had stayed with her for a few hours before returning to the living room to be with Renesmee. She had been asleep when he last checked on her and the empty bed made him nervous.

"Y/N," Carlisle called.

"In here," Y/N replied softly.

He stepped over to the bathroom and pushed the door open, finding her sitting on the floor in front of the toilet with her back leaned against the wall. Y/N was incredibly pale with dark bags under her eyes, exhausted and weak as she looked up at him.

"Are you alright?" He questioned.

"I can't stop throwing up," Y/N mumbled.

"How long have you been in here?" Carlisle asked.

"An hour," She replied.

"Why didn't you call for me? I could've given you something to help with the nausea," He said gently.

"Feels like someone shoved a hot branding iron down my throat," She muttered.

"I could get you some water or tea to help," Carlisle offered.

"Just want to sleep," Y/N stated.

"Can you stand?" He questioned, looking down at her.

"No, everything hurts," She grumbled.

Carlisle nodded, kneeling down and sliding his arm underneath her body before lifting her up into his arms. Y/N let out a soft whimper, grimacing in pain and gripping onto him as he picked her up.

Carlisle turned around and set her down on the countertop. He prepared her toothbrush before passing it to her, wetting a cloth under some warm water as she brushed her teeth.

Y/N leaned over and spit into the sink, Carlisle took the toothbrush from her hand and offered her the cloth. Y/N wiped the cloth over her skin, arms falling limply in her lap as she breathed heavily, utterly exhausted from the simple act of wiping her face.

"Are you alright?" Carlisle asked.

"No, I'm not and I wish you'd stop asking me that," She snapped.

Carlisle didn't reply, giving her a moment to rest as he put everything away. He stepped back over to her when her breathing rate had returned to normal.

"Ready?" He asked, she nodded.

Carlisle lifted her into his arms carefully before he carried her into her room and placed her down on her bed. Y/N grimaced as she laid back, closing her eyes as she took a few shaky breaths.

"How bad is the pain?" Carlisle questioned.

"Terrible," She stated, growing irritated with his questions as she struggled to get comfortable.

"I'll get you something for the pain and the nausea," Carlisle said, standing up from the edge of the bed.

"Or you could just snap my neck now and put me out of my misery," Y/N offered.

"That's not an option and you know that," Carlisle replied gently.

"What quality of life do I have, Carlisle? My teeth are falling out, my body aches like I have broken glass flowing through my veins and I can't do simple tasks without feeling completely exhausted. I am miserable and it isn't going to get any better," She stated.

"There are still things we can try, Y/N. You were doing incredibly well a few days ago, we don't have to jump to extremes just yet. Pain medications, sedatives and anti-nausea drugs can drastically improve your comfort level," Carlisle said.

Y/N scoffed, "I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a narcotic haze as my body shuts down," She snapped.

"Dosages can be adjusted. It doesn't have to be that way," Carlisle assured.

"You've done as much as you can for me. It's time to give up," Y/N stated.

"That's not what you really want," He said.

"How would you know what I want? You haven't cared enough to know me for an incredibly long time, Carlisle," She said.

"You're right... I haven't been there for you in the way that you wanted, but I'm here now and I want to help you," Carlisle pressed.

"You can't help me," Y/N stated firmly, "But you can let me go," She continued.

"We can talk about our options tomorrow. You should try and get some rest," Carlisle advised.

Y/N shook her head, looking away as Carlisle made his way out of her bedroom and closed the door.

Edward stood in the hallway, "She wants to die?" He questioned.

"She does," Carlisle replied.

"We can't let that happen," Edward stated.

"I'm going to try and convince her to pursue alternative treatment options, but she doesn't seem optimistic," Carlisle said.

"I'll talk to her," Edward said, Carlisle shook his head.

"Bella could be waking up any moment now, she's going to need you. I can deal with Y/N for the time being," Carlisle assured.

"When Bella wakes up, Y/N is going to need someone with her at all times. The bloodlust could overwhelm Bella and Y/N wouldn't stand a chance," Edward said.

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Carlisle replied.

"Agreed," Edward nodded.

[daryltwdixon]

Daryl Dixon x Reader Don't Scream

Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon) | masterlist

Summary: You didn’t mean to be here. You didn’t mean to see this. The motel door had already been cracked open, a splintered frame, a hint of something wrong curling in the air. You should have turned around, left, pretended you never saw the blood on his knuckles, the way it was painted across his throat. But then he looked at you. Slow, unfazed. Like you walking in on his carnage was nothing at all. You didn’t know why your breath shuddered. You didn’t know why your fingers itched to touch. And you sure as hell didn’t know why you didn’t run.

tags: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT 🕊️ horror, Dark!Daryl Dixon, blood and implied violence, no outbreak, motel room encounters, morally gray reader, predator/prey vibes, dubious situations and dubious consent (the reader whole heartedly consents they're just trying to reason with themselves that this is a terrible idea), serialkiller!Daryl, reader walks in on something she shouldn’t, fear-turned-arousal, misattribution of arousal, thanatos / death drive theory. a/n: thank you so so so so much to my friend @dixonsdarkelf for beta reading & giving me the boost I needed to post this! also thank you to @rheedus for this fabulous gifset that inspired me

The drive home always dragged.

You let out a long, exhausted sigh, fingers tightening on the wheel as the road stretched endlessly ahead. This wasn’t how the weekend was supposed to go. You were supposed to stay with your family for two more days—grit your teeth through the small talk, sit through the passive-aggressive questions about your job, your life, your choices. Smile. Nod. Pretend. But instead, you were barely a few hours in before it all fell apart.

Dinner had started fine. It always did. But then one question turned into a pointed remark, then into something sharper, something meaner. The same fight, just recycled into different words, but this time, you weren’t in the mood to swallow it down. This time, you pushed back. Voices rose, tempers flared, and before you knew it, you were grabbing your keys, shoving out the door, leaving behind the half-eaten meal and whatever thin thread was still holding the conversation together.

Now you were here—alone on the highway, miles of darkness stretching in every direction, headlights carving a path forward. 

Traffic jams bled into one another, each red taillight blurring into the next, the clock on your dash creeping past midnight. Eventually, the further you went, the emptier the roads became, until it was just you and the long-haul truckers, their rigs groaning under the weight of whatever cargo they hauled through the night.

Your eyelids grew heavier, dipping lower with every mile. You blinked hard, willing yourself awake, but exhaustion clung to you, thick and suffocating. It wasn’t just the late hour—it was the crash after the adrenaline of the fight, the weight of too many words you couldn’t take back pressing down on you.

You told yourself you’d be fine. Just another two hours to go.

Then a deafening horn shattered the quiet, and before you even realized what was happening, your tires veered across the lane. You gasped, jerking the wheel hard, the car lurching as you barely corrected in time. The highway was nearly empty, but that didn't matter—your heart was pounding, hands clammy where they gripped the steering wheel, the sudden shock of how easily that could’ve ended differently locking your breath in your throat. That was it, you knew you needed to stop, needed to pull off and find a place to get some rest before hitting the road again in the morning. 

You took the next exit, into a town that was barely a town at all, just a forgotten smear of civilization on the side of the highway. The streets were empty, the buildings slumped and decayed, as if the place had given up on itself long ago. A gas station, a diner with its ‘Open 24 Hours’ sign flickering in and out of life, and a squat little motel, its vacancy sign buzzing weakly in the dark.

Pulling into the parking lot, your headlights washed over cracked pavement and weeds pushing up through the concrete. Only a few cars were parked outside, most of them old and rusted, as if they’d been sitting there for far longer than a single night’s stay. The only light came from the neon sign overhead and the sickly yellow glow spilling from the front office window, casting shadows that felt too long, too stretched.

You swallowed, gripping the steering wheel. Something about this place felt…off. Not in an obvious way—no shattered windows, no ominous figures lurking in doorways—but in a way that made your skin crawl. Like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting. These were the kind of motels in movies where you’d scream at the protagonist: Keep driving, idiot! Find someplace else!

But there was nowhere else, and you couldn’t risk driving another hour to find the next rest stop.

It wasn’t ideal. Hell, it was probably a breeding ground for bed bugs, or worse–the kind of place where people checked in but didn’t always check out. But the thought of curling up in your car for the night, stiff and vulnerable in an empty parking lot, wasn’t much better.

All you had to do was get the key, lock the door, and make it through till morning. You’d toss your clothes the second you got home, scrub this place off your skin like it never touched you.

It was fine. It would be fine.

The fluorescent lights in the front office buzzed overhead, their hum just a little too loud in the unnatural silence. The air inside was stale, thick with the scent of something overly sweet—like someone had tried to cover up years of cigarettes and mildew with cheap air freshener.

A small bell sat on the counter. You hesitated, then tapped it once, the chime ringing out sharp and hollow.

Nothing.

You waited, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, the feeling of being watched crawling up the back of your neck despite the room being empty. Just as you were about to hit the bell again, a figure shuffled out from the back.

It was a woman, older, her expression carved from stone. Stringy hair pulled back into a loose bun, a cigarette smoldering between two fingers, her nails yellowed from years of nicotine.

“What can I do for ya?” she drawled, exhaling a long stream of smoke. It curled thick in the air, stale and cloying. You forced yourself to breathe through your nose, ignoring the burn in your throat.

“One room, please. Just for the night.”

She tapped at the ashtray on the counter, knocking the embers loose without looking. Her gaze stayed on you, too steady, too knowing, as if she was peeling you apart one layer at a time.

“You travelin’ alone, honey?”

Your spine straightened.

“No,” you said a little too quickly. “My dad’s waiting in the truck.”

She hummed, dragging another long inhale from her cigarette as her beady eyes stayed on you. Like she could tell it was a lie, no matter how sure you tried to sound.

“So, two beds?”

“Just the one is fine,” you said, tightening your fingers around your bag strap “We’ll manage.”

"Cash or card?" she asked, watching, peeling away whatever confidence you tried to have.

"Card," you murmured, fishing it out with stiff fingers.

She slid it through an ancient-looking reader, her other hand tapping the desk with the long, deliberate patience of someone who had nowhere to be. Her name tag was smeared, almost unreadable, and the glass of the front desk window was covered in a film of grime. 

She handed the card back, then a single brass key, its tag worn soft with age.

“Room one eighty,” she said, sliding it forward. “End of the lot.”

You took it quickly, fingers brushing against the cold metal.

The woman leaned back, taking another drag, her lips curling around the cigarette. “You let me know if y’all need anything, alright?”

You forced a nod, but something about her stare made your skin prickle. You turned toward the door, gripping the key so tight it pressed sharply into your palm.

Outside, the air felt too thick, like the humidity had climbed in the last few minutes, settling heavily on your skin. 

Then, you felt it again.

That thick, crawling awareness pricking at the back of your neck. That quiet, animal instinct that told you someone was watching. You turned your head before you could stop yourself.

Across the parking lot, just beyond the neon glow of the motel sign, a man stood under a broken street light. At first, he was nothing more than a dark shape, half-obscured by the flickering light, his face hidden in the deep hollows of shadow. 

He was just… standing there. Watching. 

You didn’t recognize him, and he was too far away to make out anything but his built form, the broadness of his shoulders. But there was something in the way he stood, still as stone, his body angled just slightly toward you, his gaze locked and unblinking.

The look in his eyes, dark and unreadable even from a distance, sent a shiver licking down your spine.

You turned quickly, your nerves on fire. But as you made your way down the long stretches of rooms on the outer perimeter, the railing overlooking the parking lot, you began to hear signs of life. The sounds seeped through the walls, slipping under doors and filling the narrow stretch of concrete. A bass line thrummed from somewhere nearby, muffled by thin walls as it seemed to pound with the rhythm of your heartbeat. Somewhere farther down, men shouted, their voices rising and falling, drunken or angry or both. Laughter burst out, sharp and sudden, followed by the distant clatter of something knocking against a table or a wall.

When you turned around and looked back across the parking lot, the man was suddenly gone.

TVs droned from multiple rooms, the glow of static flickering through slatted blinds. Someone had left theirs too loud, a newscaster rehashing old stories like it wasn’t the middle of the night. A couple was arguing behind one of the doors you passed, their voices biting and loud, words slamming into each other with no space to breathe. Something crashed—glass, maybe, or a chair knocking over—and you picked up your pace without realizing it.

Anywhere else, maybe it would have felt normal. Just people awake too late, passing the time, waiting for morning. Here, it only set your teeth on edge. Something about it felt wrong.

The fact that so many people were still awake at this hour made the muscles in your back pull tight. You weren’t alone here. But that didn’t mean you weren’t isolated.

Then, a heavy thump.

It came from the room to your right, sudden and jarring, loud enough to shake the thin wall between you. Your breath caught as you flinched back, your heart hammering against your ribs. There was movement, the slow creak of weight shifting, but nothing else followed. No voices, no explanation. Just silence settling too quickly, like whatever had happened had stopped the second you reacted to it.

Your feet moved faster, a reflex more than anything, carrying you down the walkway before you could think too hard about it. The numbers on the doors passed in a blur—178, 179, and finally, 180—your fingers tightening around the key as your room finally came into view. 

You fumbled once, just once, hands suddenly damp, but the second the lock turned, you pushed inside, slamming the door behind you.

The second it shut, you turned the lock.

The noises outside dulled, voices and music muffled the moment you closed the door and slumped your back against it, your chest rising and falling like you’d just run a half-marathon instead of walking across a motel lot. Your fingers curled into the fabric of your shirt, gripping at nothing, your pulse a frantic beat against your ribs.

You dragged in a breath, trying to slow the restless thrum in your veins. Just get through the next few hours, get some rest, and then you’d get the hell out of Dodge.

It was fine. It would be fine.

Except, sleep didn’t exactly come easy. You tossed and turned on top of the stiff bedspread, every shift of fabric loud in the silence, ears straining for any sudden sound beyond the walls. A door shutting, footsteps outside, voices carrying just enough to make you wonder if someone was too close to your room.

After what felt like forever, you gave up, flipping on the TV just to drown out the rest. The low murmur of late-night programming filled the room, casting weak blue light over the cracked ceiling, but it didn’t do much to settle you. You weren’t sure anything would.

The one thing you couldn’t ignore in favor of sleep, though, was the slow, gnawing ache of your stomach.

You should’ve stayed for the rest of dinner. Sat through the tense conversation, swallowed the words you wanted to throw back at them, and picked at your plate even if you had no appetite. At least then you wouldn’t be thinking about stepping outside again, not in the dead of night, not in the seediest motel you could’ve possibly stumbled across.

But the longer you lay there, the worse the hunger got.

Every motel had a vending machine, didn’t they?

You sighed, scrubbing a hand over your face, already hating where this was going.

You just had to be quick. In and out. Then you’d lock yourself in and actually try to sleep.

You knew it was wishful thinking to assume the vending machine would be easy to find. It was never that simple. You circled the building twice, passing the same cracked pavement, the same rusted-out cars, the same rooms with their curtains drawn too tight.

By the time you finally stumbled across the middle hallway, the glow of a single overhead light barely illuminating the space, you were already regretting this. The vending machine sat in the corner, humming under the flickering fluorescents, the metal frame dented, the glass fogged with fingerprints.

Your fingers hovered over the rows of snacks, barely able to focus on the choices, your body still on edge from the walk over. The motel felt alive, like every sound behind every door was something you weren’t supposed to hear.

The machine hummed under flickering light, the buttons worn down to the plastic. You fed it a couple of crumpled bills and tapped at one, then another, and waited. A loud mechanical churn. Then—nothing.

Great.

You smacked the side of it. Nothing again. Your stomach twisted painfully, a sharp reminder of just how long it had been since you’d last eaten. You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face, and turned to leave.

And that’s when you noticed it.

A door, cracked open at the very end of the hall.

The frame was splintered, like it had been forced open.

Something in your gut tensed.

You should walk away. Right now. Get back to your room, lock the door, and pretend you never saw anything. But something about it—about the stillness of it, the way the dim glow of a bedside lamp barely reached the threshold—made your feet stall.

Someone could be hurt. Or worse.

You swallowed hard, pulse in your throat as you crept closer, every instinct screaming at you that this was a bad idea. The air shifted the closer you got, thick with something you couldn’t name, something wrong.

And now that you were standing at the threshold, staring at the cracks in the doorframe, splintered from some kind of forced entry, your eyes drifted lower. Something dark and sticky was splattered on the ledge of the door, thick streaks leading onto the carpet inside.

Your heart stopped altogether. It was no longer rattling in your chest from fear, but fully frozen, skipping and halting as if trying to jumpstart itself while you stared into the dimly lit room.

At first, it was just shapes—shadows swallowing each other, the motel’s tiny lamp and the flickering TV casting everything into uneven light—warm and dark one second, sharp and cold the next. As your mind caught up to your eyes, it sharpened, the darkness peeling away, and you finally realized what you were looking at.

On the queen-sized bed in the center of the room, the bedspread was untouched, barely rumpled, except for the body laying perfectly still atop it.

Like someone had laid them there on purpose.

A mess of red had soaked deep into the fabric, fresh enough that the air was thick with it. The copper scent was overwhelming, clinging to the back of your throat, so metallic and sharp you could almost taste it. There was so much blood. More than you had ever seen in one place. Too much for it to be okay, too much for it to mean anything other than the obvious. You should have turned around. You should have stopped looking. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything except stand there, heart frozen in your chest, as your brain worked double time, locking onto every detail like it needed to catalog the carnage in order to make sense of it. The body was positioned too neatly, arms at its sides, legs straight, head turned away just enough that it felt unnatural—like whoever had done this hadn’t just been brutal, but deliberate.

Your stomach clenched. The smell invaded your nose again, worse now, thick and nauseating, making something cold claw its way up your spine. You stumbled back a step, your hand flying to clamp around your mouth before you could decide whether you were about to scream or be sick. You needed to move. You needed to leave. You needed to call someone, do something, but your limbs refused to cooperate, locking up as if freezing in place would somehow make this all disappear. Your body was waiting for direction, for instinct to kick in, but it never did.

Then, the bathroom door on the other side of the room swung open, spilling yellow light into the dim space as a man stepped out.

At first, it was the fluffy pink robe that threw you off, a ridiculous contrast against the raw violence laid out before you. Your brain latched onto it, desperate for anything that made sense, anything that didn’t belong to the nightmare in front of you. But then your eyes dragged upward, and you saw it—the blood.

It was everywhere. Splattered across his throat, smeared up his neck, drying in dark, uneven streaks along his collarbone. His hand was coated in it, the thick, dried red cracked over his knuckles, like he hadn’t bothered to wash it off. Like he hadn’t cared enough to try.

Panic reared its head, shoving its way into your chest, squeezing your lungs tighter than before. It was one thing to stumble across a body, to witness a crime. It was another to look into the eyes of the man who had done it. Your body understood before your mind did—the liquid fire of adrenaline flooding through your veins, your muscles locking up in place, every nerve screaming caught, caught, caught.

His gaze locked onto you, heavy and assessing, and even from where you stood, you could tell his eyes were the deepest ocean blue you had ever seen. There was no rage in them, no madness—nothing that fit the sheer bloodshed he had left behind. He was unnervingly handsome, despite it all. Maybe because of it.

He inhaled, dragging another slow pull from his cigarette, letting the smoke curl lazily from his lips before shifting his weight, completely unconcerned.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“Well,” he muttered, voice rough and edged with disinterest as he let out a puff of smoke, “shit.”

You should have run.

You should have turned and bolted down the hallway, thrown yourself outside, screamed for help—something. But you didn’t. Your body wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t let you turn and run from the scene in front of you. Your limbs were locked in place, rooted to the motel floor like they had forgotten how to move, how to respond, how to do anything but tremble.

He seemed to notice, and flicking his cigarette, he made his way slowly toward you. He was so slow and careful it was almost predatory, like he was trying to camouflage into whatever normalcy was left in the room. Like he was trying to convince you that this was completely normal and he wasn’t some axe murderer in a pink fluffy robe.

“C’mon now,” he muttered, stepping toward you with zero hesitation, like your presence here was nothing more than an inconvenience. “Least shut the damn door.”

He moved with easy, unbothered confidence, reaching past you, pressing his palm against the motel door and nudging it inward. It swung heavy on its hinges, closing behind you with a soft, final click.

Your breath shuddered. You were really stuck here now, with him, and for some reason, the panic in your chest wasn’t flaring like before. You remained stock-still, frozen, waiting for him to make his move, to put you out of your misery for being a witness to his crime. What was his weapon of choice? Did he have a knife? A gun? Did he kill with his bare hands?

The man stepped in close, standing just in front of you now, close enough that you could see the uneven streaks of blood drying against his throat, close enough that you could smell the mix of cigarettes and sweat and something deeper layered with the metallic tang of blood. 

He didn’t say anything right away. Just looked at you, head tilting ever so slightly, like he was turning over a thought in his head, working something out.

Then he exhaled, lifting a hand—slow, deliberate, like he was giving you a second to react—and twisted a lock of your hair between his fingers.

His touch was light, but it sent a bolt of something electric straight through your spine, and yet, still, you didn’t move. You should have pulled away. You should have slapped his hand down. But your body wasn’t yours right now. It belonged to fear.

He hummed low in his throat, almost to himself, turning the strands between his fingers, studying them with an unreadable expression.

“You’re real pretty,” he muttered, almost absentmindedly, like it was a passing observation, not something meant to soothe you. His voice was low, rough, dragging over the syllables like he didn’t use them often. “What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ in a place like this?”

Your throat locked up, lungs seizing against the flood of adrenaline. You weren’t even sure if your heart was still in your chest based on the way blood was roaring in your ears, drowning out every rational thought. He was teasing. Curious. And—God—flirty?

If you didn’t know better, if you hadn’t just stepped into this room, hadn’t seen the blood, hadn’t noticed the body stretched out too perfectly on the bed—you might’ve… you might’ve…

You swallowed hard, but your throat was too dry to get any sound out. Your pulse slammed in your ears, your heartbeat betraying everything you wanted to hide. He watched you for a moment longer, then let your hair slip from his grip, rubbing his bloodstained fingers together as if testing the softness.

“You’re shakin’,” he observed, mouth pulling into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, but leaned in that direction, like your fear was interesting to him… like it was cute.

His fingers twitched then, and after a pause, he reached up again after sticking his cigarette in his mouth—this time, just barely brushing his knuckles along your jaw. The touch was fleeting, but enough to make you tense even more.

He made another small sound in the back of his throat, mock sympathy edging into it.

“Like a scared little bunny.”

You should have been running. Screaming for your life. You should have turned and bolted the second you saw the blood. Why weren’t you fucking running?

The part of you that should have been shutting down, the part of you that should have been clawing for survival, digging its heels into your fogged, terrified brain to pay fucking attention—that part of you…

It was curious about him too.

You watched as his face changed then, watching your reactions like a predator tracking in his prey, eyes narrowing as they darted around your face, reading you, piecing something together. His lips twitched like he was amused, like he had figured out something you didn’t even understand about yourself yet.

“No…” he said, pulling his hand away, head tilting slightly before his face split into a grin, pulling the cigarette out between his fingers, ���you’re not scared, are you, little bunny? You like this.”

“No!” The word ripped out of you, barely a whisper at first, but then louder, cracking in the dim room around you., “No.” Your breath stuttered as you tried to sound more confident, your whole body wired too tight, but the denial felt weak even to your own ears.

“Oh, there she is,” he said, watching you closely, pleased that he had finally drawn something out of you. “You gotta name, sweetheart?”

Your lips pressed together, your jaw tight, but your eyes sharpened, taking him in, really seeing him now. His blue eyes were dangerous and beautiful and terrifying all at once, cutting through the haze of your fear like a blade. There was blood splattered up his face, drying along the sharp structure of his cheekbone, disappearing into the strands of dark hair that hung loose in his eyes. It should have made him look monstrous. It should have made him unrecognizable as anything human.

But it didn’t.

It made you want to lean forward. Your mind flashed with the idea, and you did everything you could to keep your body from following, the idea that you wanted to trace the sharp cut of his jaw, to drag your tongue over the remnants of metallic blood he had missed along his lip and—

No.

No no no no no.

The thought seared through you like an open flame. Your breath caught, your skin igniting in humiliation, a flush so deep you wanted to disappear. You couldn’t believe this. Couldn’t believe your own body, couldn’t believe the way your stomach clenched, the way something hot and ugly was overlapping the sheer horror of what this man had done. There was fear, yes—a lot of it. But there was something else crawling underneath, something just as intense, something that made your pulse skyrocket as his hand moved.

His hand pushed the cigarette into the wooden frame, the hiss of the burning end snuffing out by your head. His fingers then found the strap of your shirt, curling around the fabric, dragging it down over your shoulder with his bloodstained grip.

“No name, huh?” he murmured, watching your face, watching every shift in your expression, like he was memorizing what you looked like when you trembled. His voice was lower now, quieter, dangerous in a way that wasn’t loud or obvious, but steady and unshaken. He leaned in closer, close enough that the heat of his breath ghosted over your throat.

“That’s okay, bunny,” he muttered. “I don’t got a name either.”

Your stomach dropped.

And then, to your utter horror, he kissed your shoulder.

Not deep. Not forceful. Just the slow, deliberate press of his mouth against your skin, his lips barely parted, dragging warm and rough over the place he had just exposed.

It sent a violent shudder down your spine. The sensation—the heat of him, the quiet intimacy of it, the way he didn’t move away after, just lingered there—lit something in your chest, something sharp and unbearable. Your nipples, the traitors, hardened underneath your shirt, poking through the thin fabric that stretched across your chest. A gasp left you before you could stop it, your eyes widening in shock.

The man huffed softly against your skin, something amused in the sound.

“You like this, bunny?” His voice was slow, edged with something almost thoughtful, like he was figuring it out as he spoke. His nose brushed the side of your throat, his breath warm as he tilted his head, inhaling the scent of your perfume.

“You like a man like me takin’ advantage of just how scared you are?” His hand tightened just slightly at your shoulder, his mouth ghosting along your jaw before he murmured, “That it, bunny? You like the fear?”

His lips brushed your pulse.

“The shame?”

His fingers traced along your collarbone, the metallic tang of copper filling your nose as his hand got closer and closer to your face again.

“You turned on by a little bit of blood?”

Your breath caught in your throat, fingers curling at your sides, and you knew whatever you said next would change everything. You should have lied. You should have denied it, should have shaken your head, should have shoved him away and run before it was too late.

Your mouth parted, your chest heaving like you had just surfaced from drowning, but before you could answer, his hand snapped up, grabbing the nape of your neck, fingers lacing in your hair. His other hand suddenly gripped your jaw, forcing your face to tilt toward him.

It was fast, sudden, a flash of violence that slammed through you like a bolt of electricity, it made you gasp sharply, eyes going wide.

His grip wasn’t bruising, but it was firm, unyielding. His fingers dug into your jaw just enough that it bordered on pain, enough that you felt the quiet threat humming underneath him.

His eyes narrowed, sharp, dark, and hungry, locking onto yours like a predator seeing prey for exactly what it was. His grip tightened for a split second, his thumb dragging rough over your cheek, the dried blood flaking slightly against your skin, crumbling like dust beneath his touch.

“Say it,” he rasped, voice still calm, still steady as stone, but something inside it had changed—harder now, more dangerous.

Your body locked up, trapped between the heat of him and the cold reality of what was happening, of what had been happening for longer than just that moment.

Because it hadn’t started when you stepped into this room.

It didn’t start when you saw the blood. It didn’t even start when you heard the body hit the floor.

It started long before that.

You’d always known something was wrong with you. The way fear didn’t keep you away—it called to you, wrapped around your ribs and had you in its grip. The way you’d always looked for danger, for the spike of adrenaline that made your heart hammer against your ribs, made you feel more alive than anything else.

You could’ve stayed at your parents’ house. You could’ve forced yourself to sit through another dinner filled with questions about your future, their expectations suffocating you like a cage you were never meant to fit inside. But you didn’t.

You left in the middle of the night, peeling away from their house like something inside you was clawing to be free, chasing an impulse you hadn’t fully understood at the time.

You hadn’t stopped driving until exhaustion forced your hand. And when you pulled into this motel, when you stepped onto that cracked pavement, when you heard the distant sounds of raised voices, of something heavy hitting the ground—your pulse hadn’t stuttered in fear.

It had spiked.

And while you tried to ignore it, ignore that pull, to force yourself to sleep, you couldn’t say no to that part of you that needed to see. You’d left your room, weaving through the shadows of the motel, passing this exact door. The vending machine hadn’t been the excuse you told yourself it was. It wasn’t hunger for food that had your stomach twisting, your body restless against the scratchy motel sheets.

It was hunger to know.

To see.

To find the blood, the body, and the man who did it.

And now he was standing in front of you, looking at you like he already knew all of it. Like he’d read the answer in your dilated eyes, in the way your breath had hitched when you first saw him, in the way you were still here, still trembling under his grip but not running.

Your mouth was dry, your body refusing to move, refusing to break free of his hold. Because the worst part wasn’t that you were afraid.

The worst part was that you liked it.

You made a small, broken noise, your fingers twitching, your whole body tight as a wire as you reached up, your hands sliding around his  forearm.

“Yes,” you whispered. It was barely a sound, barely more than breath, but his eyes flickered, something shifting beneath them.

The pressure released all at once.

His grip loosened from your jaw, tracing down the side of your throat with something slower now, something more deliberate. You let your hands fall, reaching for him instead. His thumb dragged along your cheek, wiping away the remnants of old blood he had left there. His lips lingered, the warmth of them stark against your skin, a slow drag over your jaw as he exhaled. The scent of him—smoke, sweat, the faint metallic ghost of dried blood—was thick in your lungs, wrapping around you, leaving no space for anything else.

His lips barely moved as they traced your jaw again when he spoke, the words slipping against your skin, low and quiet, like they weren’t meant for the space between you but meant to sink into you, settle deep, curl around something inside you that you didn’t even have a name for.

“I know, bunny.”

It was soft, almost affectionate, but threaded with something deeper. Something knowing.

Like he had been waiting for you to admit it to yourself first.

His fingers, the ones still tangled in your hair, tightened slightly—not rough, but firm, keeping you in place, keeping you still for him. He turned your head just enough to guide you, slow, like testing a skittish animal, like making sure you wouldn’t bolt the second he took what you were already offering.

You didn’t know him. You didn’t even know his name.

And none of that mattered.

Your hands, trembling but restless, lifted before you could stop them, pressing against the warm plane of his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall beneath your palms. He was solid. Real. Your fingertips brushed against the edge of the pink robe he still hadn’t bothered to shed, the soft, ridiculous fabric clashing with the rough scrape of stubble along your throat as his mouth continued its path downward.

You felt the shift in him before you even saw it, the slight pause of his breath, the way his grip in your hair flexed before tightening further. His tongue peeked out from his mouth, tracing the vein of your artery along the column of your neck. You shuddered against him, eyes fluttering closed, and he chuckled, low and breathless against your skin, the sound of it vibrating against your pulse.

“That feel nice, sweetheart?”

You opened your eyes to look at him, and his were darker now, heavy-lidded, focused entirely on you, taking in every shuddering breath, every small twitch of your lips, the way your pupils had swallowed nearly all of your color.

Then, he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t sweet. It was ravenous. Not just hungry but starved. The slow, intoxicating drag of lips and teeth and heat blurred every thought, every warning screaming in your head turning into static. You felt one of his hands skim lower, tracing the dip of your waist, fingers pressing into the thin fabric of your shirt like he was debating whether to rip it from your body or take his time peeling you open.

His mouth moved over yours like he already knew you’d open for him, like he had been waiting for it, waiting for this.

And God, you let him.

[sematarygirls]

⠀    ⠀⠀♯┆marshgirl!reader x rafe ⏤ part ii.ㅤ ۪ ୧

ᰋ. ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎“ i witnessed a girl dragged under by the current once; i wanted to help her, but my father pulled me away. he told me there was no justice for drowning girls ,, ‎‎ ‎ ‎ : ‎‎ ‎ ‎IN WHICH . . . a strange boy shows up at the marsh unannounced.   ─── ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆🌾

THE AIR SEEMED different that day. The wind blew harder, swaying the leaves and making an eerie moaning sound that echoed through the marsh, a warning call that you should have picked up on. The air, usually a dusty blue in the evening, was a dark, suffocating grey that weighed down the atmosphere, making everything seem sinister and ghostly.

You were sitting in the window, gathering your dried herbs into bundles to hang around the house and ward off negative energies and bad spirits when the sound of a car approaching caused your ears to perk up. You knew the rattle of your daddy's truck like the back of your hand. This engine purred smoothly, like it was brand new.

A pit settled in your stomach at the realization that someone was in the marsh, someone you didn't know, and while your daddy was out no less. If he came home and saw a stranger, he would assume the worst of you, and you'd be in a heap of trouble.

Your heart thrummed wildly, like the wings of a moth caught in a lantern's glow as your head darted up to look out the window, watching a sleek black truck come into view. It looked expensive, a stark contrast to your daddy's rusty one.

The truck rolled to a stop a few feet from the porch, the sound of the engine cutting off sending a wave of nerves through you. No one ever came out here. No one should be out here.

You were frozen in place, fingers tightening on the bundle of dried herbs in your hand that you had been tying a string around. You watched a boy step out of the truck, glancing around with an uncertain look on his face. He was adorned in a dark blue polo shirt, white shorts, and a backward hat on his head.

Just from looking at him, you could tell he was the kind of boy your daddy had warned you about, the kind that took what he wanted without regard for consequence. The kind that girls like you should run from.

He approached the door, cringing as the porch creaked under his weight. He half thought it was going to give out right underneath his feet, but it stayed somewhat sturdy. He knocked once, surprisingly lightly, as if he thought the door would crumble under his knuckles and then stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around as he waited.

You hesitated for a moment before slipping off the windowsill and walking on the balls of your feet toward the door as quietly as you could manage. You shouldn't open the door. You knew better than the open it, but still, your hands twitched at your sides, eager to turn the knob and see what he wanted. He looked to be not much older than you were, after all.

You knew you shouldn't, but you longed for conversation that wasn't tense and short like the ones you had with your daddy. You longed to know what it was like behind the marsh, but you also knew that if your daddy found out about that or found this boy standing on your porch, it would get ugly.

The house held its breath as you stood there, hand outstretched just an inch from landing on the knob. The air around you seemed to thicken, pressing against you from all sides, and the wind outside howled, the marsh eager to see what decision you would inevitably make.

To your surprise, you closed the distance and pulled the door open before you could talk yourself out of it. Your eyes widened as you saw the tall boy up close, his head turning at the sound of the door opening. He was handsome, like the boys on the covers of the magazines you saw at the store.

His gaze snapped to yours, sharp and assessing. There was something uncertain in the way he rocked back on his heels, like he was trying to put distance between the two of you.

You didn't say anything at first, only stared, hands still clutching the bundle of herbs, the brittle stems digging into your palm. His presence felt intrusive, unnatural, like a stone tossed into a still pond. You weren’t used to visitors. You weren’t supposed to have them.

“You shouldn't be here,” you murmured, your voice soft, barely above a whisper.

Rafe tilted his head slightly, brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of you. “Yeah?” he said, like he wasn’t convinced. His voice was smooth but edged with something you couldn’t quite place—arrogance, maybe, or curiosity.

You glanced over his shoulder, tilting your own head like a curious puppy as you listened intently for the rumble of your daddy's truck of the quieting of the crickets—any indication that he was coming.

“You need to leave before my daddy gets home,” you said finally, voice even softer now, as if speaking it too loud might summon your father from the trees. “If he sees you…” you trailed off, letting the implication settle between you.

Rafe’s lips pressed together, like he was considering pushing his luck, but something in your expression—your wide, wary eyes, maybe—made him pause. “I just wanted to talk,” he said after a beat. “Didn’t think I’d get the third degree for it.”

You blinked at him, confused. “The third degree?”

His lips quirked up in amusement, glancing behind you into your house, seeing a shelf of herbs, jarred substances, animal bones, moss, stones, and carved sculptures that made his brows furrow. “Uh—Nevermind. Look, I’m not here to cause any trouble. I just…” He hesitated, like the words weren’t quite right, like he was trying to find something that didn’t sound like a lie. “I wanted to see you. I mean, I saw you before—at the grocery store, and I just—I dunno, wanted to meet you.”

A foreign feeling settled in your chest at his words. “I'm not supposed to talk to strangers,” you told him, looking up at him with wide eyes, but still, your feet seemed planted in place like the roots of a tree, keeping you from doing what you knew you should have—shut the door in his face.

“Well, I'm Rafe,” he grinned, that arrogant look he was known for. He reached his hand out for you to shake, but you just cocked your head, looking down at it in confusion, like you didn't know what to do. “What's—uh—What's your name?” He asked, retracting his hand. “So we won't be strangers anymore.”

You froze at that, at the simple question. Names were dangerous things. They weren’t just words. They were identities, parts of yourself that you could never take back once given. You were known as “marsh girl” for a reason. No one knew your real name, and you had always intended to keep it that way. Names were powerful.

The weight of the question hung in the air for awhile, and for some reason, you really wanted to tell him your name. For once, you wanted someone to know you, someone to not be a stranger, but you knew better. “My name's... not important," you finally whispered. “I'm not allowed to talk to people like you.”

“People like me?” He asked, his brows furrowing at how cryptic you were. This was definitely going to be harder than he thought, but he was determined to make it work. He'd made a bet to win, and that's what he was going to do. It would just take a little more effort than he anticipated.

You felt your chest tighten, as if the words were caught between your ribs. Your gaze flickered to the ground, to the bundle of herbs still tightly held in your hands, a small comfort. "People who come from... places where the air is different," you whispered, your voice fragile. The air around you was a comfort to you and a discomfort to him. He didn't understand the ways of the marsh, and that was a dangerous thing.

Rafe stared at you for a long moment, clearly trying to decipher the layers of meaning in your words. “Places where the air is different?” he echoed, sounding like he didn’t understand. Inside, he was trying to keep his composure. You were nuttier than all the Pogues he'd ever met combined, and it drove him crazy that he had no idea what you were talking about

It made all the sense in the world to you, though. Everything about him—his clothes, his demeanor, his shiny car—it all screamed that he was out of place, different, and that kind of thing got you killed in this world. Prey blend into the greenery. They don't stand out.

He came from a place where being loud and assertive was how you survived, how you thrived. He didn't know what it was like to live by the standards of the marsh, to only speak when spoken to. He didn’t know what it was like to keep your head down, your voice soft, and your hands busy, never drawing attention to yourself.

“You have to go now,” you told him firmly, the air seeming to shift in a way that you noticed, as if the marsh was warning you. “Goodbye... Rafe.” You shut the door in his face before he could say more, leaning against it and letting out a shaky breath.

You listened, and for a moment, there was nothing, but then, you heard his footsteps retreat and his car start up. You were relieved that he was leaving, and all you could do was hope that he never came back, not unless you knew your daddy wouldn't be home in time to interupt.

                         ୭ৎ

tags .ᐟ   @lovemesailor / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed / @rafeslittleangel / @bakugouswaif / @fakedhearts / @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 / @oatmealisweird / @lanaslushworld / @6r4cie / @corpsebridenightamare / @moustacherryismyhusband / @littlelamy / @vanityvixen / @susanhill / @jjasmiineee / @rafecameronswifeyy / @throughthedakotas

[mageofmadness]

PUPPY CALEB GOING INTO RUT

(2.1k) ૮˶- ﻌ -˶ა⌒)ᦱ nsfw [18+] includes: puppy!caleb, fem!reader, rut, knotting, slight a/b/o themes (kind of, not really), dirty talk, pet names, creampie and breeding kink, messy, wet, 'n sick as always. questionable puppy hybrid dynamics but it’s porn so the how doesn’t really matter, right?

caleb loves nothing more than being your mutt. your puppy boy.

he belongs to you, and by your side is where he’s meant to stay. if you’re somewhere, best believe he’s standing close behind with an arm around your waist or a hand on the back of your neck. he’s territorial, something others have picked up on and caleb felt bad about it until you admitted how much it turns you on. how much you love it. crave it, too. how much you don’t care about what everyone else thinks, and how jealous you get over others looking at and admiring what is yours.

the chain around his neck might as well be a collar with his owner's information on it, and he never misses an opportunity to show you who he belongs to.

sure, you tease him sometimes for his inclinations. caleb can’t help it though—that he can smell when you’re sweetest and your body needs him the most. when he can sense how wet you're going to be before his fingers ever find your needy, little clit. every month, towards the end of the last week, he finds himself waking up and calling off work. caleb lets them know he won't be in for a few days, and he shoots off a text to your work as well, letting them know the same thing on your behalf.

[7:21 am] i’m so sorry, i’m feeling under the weather and am not going to be able to come into the office today. i’ve got a doctor's appointment later and will send you an update with what they say.

caleb is sensitive when going into rut. he needs you here, by his side, and you cannot stray.

he always has a bit of lingering guilt, looking at you curled up in bed. sweet and innocent, asleep in one of his old t-shirts and a raggedy pair of underwear from ages ago. soft skin that stretches for miles and fading bruises from the past week on your thighs and hips. you look so…precious. small. docile and perfect for him. it makes spit collect in his mouth, even more so than usual.

sometimes, he can’t help but fall back asleep, waiting for you to get up. if he’s lucky, caleb rouses later to you petting his ears. your fingers combing through his hair, brushing over the scruff of his neck, and all of it makes him shiver. caleb wakes from sleep hot and hurting, near drooling and whimpering from the ache trapped in his sweatpants and the way your fingers dance where he’s most sensitive.

you always ask if he wants to play, always ask what he needs, and the way caleb buries his head in the crook of your neck, rutting his aching cock against your hip, tells you enough. you sigh, turning around in bed and slipping your hand into his boxers.

caleb can’t help but bite.

he tries to be gentle, he really does, but when your warm fingers are wrapped around his cock and you’re letting him sloppily jerk his hips, he can't help but groan. he can't help but growl, low in his throat, as sticky pre-come slides over your knuckles.

caleb can’t help that he likes when his owner scolds him. says, in that tone of voice you get, “no biting, don’t make me get the leash.”

“bad dog.”

he whines. caleb hates the leash and the way it keeps you from him. the way he comes so hard when it’s wrapped around his throat and you tug just right as he spills inside of you. it’s pathetic, but how else is he meant to show you that he’s yours? what better way than to let you use the leash to bury his cock that much further into your pussy, kissing your cervix and using him however you see fit.

“m’a good dog,” he pants, begging for you to understand. “m’sorry baby, i–i can’t help it. i promise, ngh. wanna be your good boy, please.”

“i need to fill you up…fuck you sloppy. oh fuck.”

caleb can hardly breathe when you turn around, letting the blankets fall so he can see the way you present for him. knees in the mattress, back arched and ass up. he swallows, yanking your underwear down and tossing it away.

“show puppy where you want it, baby. m’too dumb to remember. need to know where you want it, sweetheart. show me your little hole.”

he watches in awe as you move to spread yourself. giving him a perfect view of your tight holes. caleb moans, excitement making him shake from how you’re going to look after he’s done with you. swollen and over-sensitive. red and slick from the abuse of his cock stretching you open and apart for hours. he runs a hand over the small of your back, squeezing your waist before he can’t help himself any longer and slips a single finger into your pussy.

feeling how wet you are, how needy you are for him. how one finger doesn’t seem to be enough. caleb leans closer, letting his breath ghost over your fluttering hole as he tugs it open. he fits another finger inside, spreads them wide and feels you shake. inspecting your perfect pussy, still just as perfect, to make sure it’s ready for him.

“you're so good to me, thank you, honey. so good for puppy. ‘m so, so lucky,” his words trail off as he plays with your sticky mess. seeing how far he can stretch you open before you whine and start to writhe. “always make puppy feel so good, can i make you feel good, sweetheart? please?”

“where do you want it?” he asks, brushing his thumb over your other hole. pawing at you as he bites his lip, knowing the first day of his rut is too rough. he can’t. caleb often loses himself, and he doesn’t want to hurt you with how wide he’d like to stuff every hole you have. how bad he wants to watch your tight ass take his cock. he knows it would feel like heaven.

still, he asks, “which hole, baby? c’mon, tell me where you need it.”

“m’pussy,” you whimper, pressing back into his prodding fingers.

“here? like this?” caleb asks, rutting his sticky pre-come mess against the back of your thighs, groaning when the tip of his cock catches on your cunt and you jump. “how does my girl want it?” he asks, leaning over and crowding you, whispering into your ear. “tell me, baby. you know i’ll give you whatever you want. anything you need, honey, it’s yours.”

caleb’s favorite thing is the lip you give him right before you slip under. right before you give in to the thick weight of his cock that’s too deep, when you’re meeting his thrusts, greedy about every inch of him and how it’s yours. how it’s only meant to be buried deep inside of you, driving you wild and dirty.

“h-harder,” you demand. “don’t tell me you dont know how to use that puppy cock.”

it always turns to begging in the end, though.

depending on how well he fucked you the night before and how sensitive you are from that. how well you slept or how much you feel like being a brat today. caleb lives for the moment he feels your hips settle, when there’s no resistance as he slams his cock into you over and over and you take it like such a good girl. the best girl. the sticky sound of your pussy wanting this so much it’s dripping onto the sheets. it drives you crazy but that’s when he loses himself, too.

when you’re babbling and whimpering. praising him, “m–my good boy. such a good boy, so–so good for me. p–please, hngh. please, can i come? i cant…i–i cant—”

he lives for your praise. he’d die by it.

“you take it so well, fuck. so good. wish…wish you’d let me let me knot you,” caleb pants. letting the fantasy take hold. he’s dreamed of it, but as much as you beg for it, he doesn’t want to hurt you. but right now, “oh, fuck. please, can i? know you can take it. it would feel so good sweetheart, please let me. please, please…i need it.”

you give in, immediately clawing at the sheets when you feel him begin to swell. caleb starts to feel the resistance and can’t help but curse, watching the filthy sight before him. your cunt struggling to take what he has for you, the way it stretches and you whimper but cannot help but fuck back, trying to swallow his knot whole.

it’s a tight fit and it looks like it hurts, but the way you beg for more makes him see stars and the look he sees on your face when you glance back, blindly throwing a hand behind you to search for him, teary-eyed and gone but no less determined to take it, is beautiful. you’re beautiful, from the blush on your cheeks, the sweat sticking to your skin, all the way to the thighs that shake from the stretch.

when his knot pops inside, when caleb feels it settle inside of your warm walls, twitching and coming around him, caleb actually loses his mind. 

“fuckin’ made for this, look at that. you took it so easy, honey. should have known it would fit perfect, you’re my princess after all, huh?”

“you want more? i think you do. sounds like you do, baby. wish you could see what ‘m seeing right now. don’t know if this pussy will ever be tight again.”

caleb's voice is rough as he whispers in your ear, "that's okay, though. good thing i like you like this, hm? i love it when you're a messy girl and oh, don't cry baby. 'm right here, yeah? right here, you feel me?"

you’re gone, and caleb does what he does best—takes care of you. he presses his chest to your sweaty back, protects you from the world as he fucks into you hard and fast. like an animal. unable to move too much from being locked by the knot, it bullies against your swollen cervix with every thrust.

“we just need to fill you up, see?” he pants, feeling the way your walls milk him as he swallows his groans. as he bites down the need to use teeth. caleb kisses away tears as they fall down your cheeks. “can you be good and take it all for puppy? yes? oh, it feels good? fuck, hah, baby. you have no idea. i…i—“

“not a drop—i don’t want a single drop to spill from this pussy, you hear me?”

“I know, i know. you’re all stretched open and sloppy, but you can do that for me, can’t you? it’s all for you, baby. please, hngh, oh fuck. take it. there you go baby, yeah. squeeze and tighten up. no messes.”

when he finally spills inside of you, when he feels his come settle deep in your cunt, right where it needs to be, caleb is out of breath and burning hot. 

“s–so tight,” he hisses. “being so good for me, sweetheart. shh, im almost done, just a little longer. i’ve got a little bit more for you, baby. you’ve gotta take it...need you to take it f’me.”

“no, no,” he tsks when you start to squirm. “no moving or it won’t stick, princess.”

“good princesses let their puppies fill them up, right? they let them breed them full. you’re so good to me, baby. so good letting me take care of this pussy when i need her.”

caleb loves letting his cock hold you down, buried to the hilt as you sigh and clench from the overuse. moaning about how it feels so good. so warm and thank you and when you panic the moment he goes to pull out, whining like a bitch in heat for the cock that just ruined you, he can’t help but laugh softly.

caleb licks and bites, taking the time to sneakily nip at your skin when he can finally pull all the way out. his cock gives a pathetic twitch at the sight of your hole. sticky and drooling, too. fluttering, trying to close around nothing, and certainly not as tight as it had been that morning. gaping slightly.

caleb traces a gentle finger around the rim as he places a kiss on your lower back, feeling you jolt. he watches as his come slowly begins to dribble out over his fingers, and sighs.

“i told you not a drop, baby. what’s all this drooling out of your pussy?”

@ mageofmadness 2025. ִֶָ. 226.171.198 245.214.227

[lveegsoi]

° SAVE US 박성훈 °

pairing.. castaway!Park Sunghoon x f!castaway!reader

synopsis.. Being a castaway wasn't that bad, especially when a hot man, straight out of your wettest dream, one day was washed ashore just as you began preparing to leave the island.

tags/warnings.. smut 18+, mdni, not proof read, piv sex, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it), oral(f! receiving), griding, cum eating, hair puling, nipple play, squirting, make out, pet names

wc.. 3.6k

a/n.. English isn't my native language so let me know if there are any mistakes. Enjoy reading! Likes, comments, reblogs and any kind of feedback are appreciated!

divider by @strangergraphics

30 days. 30 days on this uninhabited island. No internet connection, no running water and no animals. You don’t know how long you can keep trying to survive on this godforsaken island. One moment you were peacefully sunbathing on your small, but cozy boat in the middle of the ocean and the next big waves were rocking your boat left to right. 

You don't remember how but you found yourself on the coast of an island, your boat half destroyed. At first, you couldn’t believe you were even alive and then the realization sank in: you were alone on a fucking island and no one knew where you were. Not many people would have cared, back home you didn’t have friends, even your neighbors didn’t know who you were. 

You lived the perfect life if you say so yourself. No noisy neighbors, trying to get in your business, a relatively easy job that pays the rent, or unnecessary drama in your life. Yeah, sometimes it gets lonely and depressing, watching people your age go out and have fun with their friends, but it was what it was. You tried not to let the upsetting thoughts go to your head and aimed to live your life happily.

Of course, the universe had to mess with your life. You don’t know what you did to deserve this. Did you unknowingly harm somebody or did you unintentionally commit arson? The answer is no, so why are you on a desert island in the middle of nowhere desperately trying to break a coconut for 20 minutes?

The first few days on the island were hard. Thankfully, a small part of the boat was intact, providing some shelter. Most of your provisions were safe too, so you had soap, toothpaste, menstrual products, food and water. You managed to find some of your clothes floating in the shallow parts of the water. Surviving was hard, but you held onto the hope that you would find a way back home.

Your mission for today was to find more fruits, as your food stash was running low. You decided to explore the other side of the island. From the observations you made during your stay here, the island had two shores: the one that you woke up on and another just 15 km from the first one. Since the journey was long, you decided to set off as soon as you woke up. Gathering some food, water and a bag you made from leaves on your second week here ( you don’t know how it lasted for so long) you began to make your way through the dense forest. After around 4 agonizing hours you reached the other shore. Your bag was half full and your water container was half empty. 

The sun was brighter than ever and the beach was beautiful. The water was so clear you can see the small fish swimming, and the sand was gold and soft. There were a few crabs on the nearby rocks and a man lying on his belly on the soft sand. Wait what? A man. There is a man! Was your brain playing some tricks or was there really a man? Slowly you approached the stranger. 

‘’ Ummm, can you hear me?” You asked. What a dumb question, of course, he can’t hear you he is probably unconscious. You thought. As carefully as possible you turned the stranger onto his back to get a better look at him. He appeared to be around your age, maybe a few years older, with black hair, reaching his thick eyebrows, a slender nose and full lips. He had two moles-one on his nose and one on his cheek. His outfit was simple, a white top and black swimming trunks. He was handsome, you can’t lie, but you have to be careful. You don’t know him. Was he like any other man? Could he hurt you, or was he a good person?

You tried waking him up by shaking him. At first, he didn’t budge but after 10 minutes of constant shaking, he started waking up. “W-what” He mumbled. Slowly he opened his eyes and sat up. Holding his head the handsome stranger looked around and cursed under his breath. “Who are you? Where am I” He questioned looking you up and down. You began to feel self-conscious. “ I don’t know where exactly we are, but I’d say we are in the middle of nowhere. What was the last thing you remember?’’

“ I was on my boat, planning what to eat for dinner when the storm came. Shit, I think my boat was destroyed”

“ Are you hurt?” You asked, hoping he isn’t seriously injured. I can’t have this sexy man dying on me, now can I?

“ I don’t think I am. I’m Sunghoon by the way.”

You introduced yourself and Sunghoon said your name quietly under his breath and the way he said it shouldn’t make you feel this way. The next thing that left your mouth was probably the stupidest thing you have ever offered. “ I have a camp on the other side of the island. If you want you can go with me. Of course, I’ll understand if you want to be alone, I mean you don’t know me, but I think we have a better chance of getting out of here if we stick together” You don’t know why you made that offer. There is a possibility that he’ll take advantage of you. Take your provisions and leave you here, after stealing the makeshift raft, you began to make a week ago. But there is also a chance of you working together and getting faster back home. Plus you will have someone to talk to.

He doesn’t answer right away. “ I think that would be a good idea. How far is your camp?”

“ It’s a 4-hour walk from here, if we’re lucky we could arrive there before it gets dark.” Reaching in your makeshift bag you pulled a few berries you picked on your way here. Opening your water container you extended them towards him.

“ Here. You’re probably hungry and thirsty. Take this it’s not much but it will fill you up until we go to the camp”

“Thanks, I don’t know how to repay you. Here let me carry this for you.” Sunghoon grabbed your bag and began heading towards the forest. “ Come on, the faster we walk the better”

As you gaze at him, you hope you chose wisely.

The two of you made the walk in just 3 hours. During these 3 hours, you learned a few things about each other. Sunghoon is a 22-year-old man working as a figure skating instructor, teaching a small group of children the basics of ice skating. Currently, he is living with his two best friends, Jay and Jake, who seem to be great guys, judging by the stories Sunghoon has shared. 

Your little camp isn’t the best-looking one. On the right side, the remains of your boat make a tent-like shelter that is quite big enough for the two of you. A small bonfire pit is located at the bottom of your sleeping space and a big SOS sign made of thick wood sticks can be seen on the left side of the beach. 

Sitting near the bonfire pit, you began trying to start a fire. The sun was setting and if during the day the temperature is around 33°C, then during the night the temperature drops to around 15 °C. With only shorts, bikini tops and short tops, the fire was your only source of heat.

'' Is that what I think it is?'' Sunghoon’s voice broke the silence just as you started the fire. You followed his gaze to the half-built raft under the palm tree. It was made of driftwood lashed together with vines. 

“Yeah,” you replied, brushing your hands off on your shorts. “I started it a week ago. Figured it might be my best shot at getting off this dumb island.”

Sunghoon ran his fingers along the uneven edges of the wood, testing the strength of the vines. “It’s not bad,” he said, glancing back at you. “But it’s not going to hold up in the ocean. Not like this. The vines will not hold and the layer of wood is too thin.” You sighed,as you made your way towards him by the raft. “I know. I’ve been trying to figure out how to make it sturdier, but I don’t exactly have the strength to carry thicker logs. Good thing I have you now, yeah?’’

He smiled at you. His smile was the most beautiful thing you have laid your eyes on. “You really think we can do it? Build something that’ll actually get us out of here?” Sunghoon stood, brushing sand off his knees. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “But sitting around waiting for a miracle isn’t going to get us anywhere. At least this gives us something to focus on.” He nodded, feeling a small spark of determination. “Alright. Where do we start?”

Over the next few days, the raft became your shared project. You scavenged more wood from the forest, carefully selecting pieces that were straight, thick and sturdy. Sunghoon suggested using strips of fabric from your clothes to add with the vines, so you spent hours weaving them together while Sunghoon did most of the lifting. Sacrificing your only clothes meant that now your options of outfits were narrowed down to wearing only a bikini and sometimes bikini tops and your only pair of shorts.

Sunghoon was shirtless most of the time, especially as he worked on the raft, and he put on his top during the night. You can’t complain much. Watching a sexy shirtless  guy while you sit on the sand all day was the highlight of your time spent here. And you can say that you weren’t the only one enjoying this. You’ve seen the way he looks at you, when he thinks you aren’t watching. Hell the first time he saw you in a bikini he couldn’t stop staring at your boobs. The thought of him finding you attractive gives some more confidence when talking with him.

As you worked, you talked. Sunghoon told you about his life as a figure skating instructor, how he’d started skating as a kid to impress a girl he liked, which you found quite funny “Spoiler alert, it didn’t work,” he said with a laugh. “But I fell in love with the ice anyway.”

You shared some of your stories too—about your quiet life back home, the nights you spent wondering if there was more to life than just existing. “I guess the universe decided to give me an opportunity of some sort.” you joked, though the words felt heavier than you intended.,, Anyway, is someone special waiting for you to come back, a handsome guy like you certainly has girls throwing themselves at you wherever you go’’

Sunghoon’s smile dropped a little and you began regretting asking him. ,, I don’t have a girlfriend at the moment.There was someone I loved, but things didn’t work at the end’’ There was  silence for a few minutes, when he decided to talk again. ,, Am happy one at least, it’s been almost half a year since then and during those months I tried healing. That was the reason why I decided to go on a little 2 week sea adventure. I didn't expect to end up here, but I can’t go and change the past, now can I?’’ Lifting his head and turning towards you he asked. ,, What about you? Do you have a boyfriend?’’

,, That’s quite embarrassing ,but I’ve never had a real boyfriend. Sure, I messed around a bit, there aren’t many guys in my town that are ,,boyfriend material’’, you know. And if there are, they’re taken, so If we get out of here I would be returning to an empty apartment full of eviction notes, because i haven’t paid my rent”

The atmosphere has shifted. The two of you sat in silence until Sunghoon stood up and said. ,, I think that was enough for today, let’s go to sleep’’ 

A week and a half later your ticket back home was completed. The raft was a rough, sturdy structure made of driftwood tied together with vines and reinforced with fabric strips from your clothes. It was bigger than a king sized bed with enough space for the two of you. In the middle of it Sunghoon tried to make a hole for your provision, that would last you at least for 2 weeks. The raft didn’t have a mast, but you will use wooden sticks that were long and thick enough to use as paddles. 

You were sitting on the leaves, on which you sleep, when Sunghoon approached you and sat beside you. “I can’t believe tomorrow we’ll have a chance to return home. When we make it home alive, promise me that we will stay in touch. I know we haven’t known each other for that long, but I feel close to you and I’ll hate it if we don’t continue to see one another.’’

Looking in his eyes, you can see that he’s serious. You were glad he had felt the same. During those weeks you developed feelings for him and you prayed for your safe return. If he wants to continue to talk to you, it means he at least sees you as a friend, right? But you’ve seen the looks he gave you when he thinks you aren’t watching.

He wasn’t sleek. He was basically eye-fucking you. Sunghoon liked to stare, it didn't matter at what. You’ve caught him staring 2 times at your tits, 4 at your ass, 3 at the small heart tattoo below your belly button and 6 times at your lips. But it wasn’t as if you didn’t stare at him too. Sunghoon knew what he was doing when he bends his ass in front of you, or flexes his muscles when he’s shirtless.

The sexual tension could be felt in the air. Turning towards him you smiled and answered. “Of course I would love to keep in touch. I should thank you. Without you I don’t think I would have managed to build the raft’’ 

You saw him glance at your lips. You sat in silence as he began slowly to lean into you. You locked your eyes with his as you too began slowly to lean. Your lips were centimeters away.

“Can I kiss you?’’ Sunghoon whispered and you nodded your head. He placed his hand on your cheek as he said.”I want to hear you say it. Say you want to kiss me.”

“Kiss me Sunghoon.” As soon as you mutter the words his lips were on yours. 

He kissed you like there was no tomorrow. His lips were soft and they tasted like the berries he had for breakfast. The kiss had deepened. One of his hands was on your cheek and the other was gripping your hips as he pulled you in his lap. You sat on his lap and put your hands around his neck.

Sunghoon moaned. Grabbing your hips he began moving them slowly against his bulge. You could feel him through the material of your short and he was huge. His dick was above average and thick. Is this even gonna fit inside you? The two of you could kiss forever, but you needed air. As you broke the kiss a string of saliva was connecting your lips. 

“More. I need more.” Sunghoon whimpered. Fuck that was the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. He crashed his lips with yours again. This time the kiss was hungrier, you tugged on the hair on the back of his head, causing him to moan in your mouth. You used the opportunity to slip your tongue in his mouth. While making out with you he slowly laid back, this move of his made you lay entirely on him. This new angle allowed you to feel him more. It was unbelievable how wet you were right now. Slowly you moved your hips along the outline of his dick. The material of his swimming trunks was thin, which allowed him to feel you clench around nothing. 

‘’Fuck you feel so good.’’ In one motion he flipped you on your back and began placing kisses on your jaw down towards your neck.’’ Let me taste you, love.’’ Sunghoon begged. You moaned at the image of him between your legs. Your thoughts were interrupted by Sunghoon, who pulled your bikini top down, exposing your breasts. He began palming one as he tilted his head down to put the other one in his mouth. ‘’ I didn’t hear an answer to my question, love. Will you let me taste you and make you feel as you have never felt before?” He asked again as you grinded against his leg, that was placed between your legs.

‘’ Yes, yes!’’ You exclaimed when you felt Sunghoon place your left nipple between his teeth. Your other nipple was being twisted between his thumb and point finger. The moment he heard you say yes, he began to make his way down, while placing tender kisses on your breast down towards your stomach and he stopped right above the hem of your shorts. He unzipped them with his teeth and quickly, along with your bikini, he pulled them down your legs. You felt him staring and before you could scold him, he placed a kiss on your clit. 

You’ve never received head. The guys you’ve slept with thought that  making you cum with their mouths was pointless. The fact that Sunghoon was eating you out like a starved man made you so turned on. You could crush his head with your thighs and he’ll thank you. The man was so whipped for you. 

You grabbed his head and tugged on his hair when you felt your orgasm approaching. ‘’Just like that Hoonie. Please don’t stop.’’ You couldn't help but whimper as his tongue flicked just the right spot. 

‘’Cum for me baby.’’ Sunghoon said as he placed his finger inside you. That was your breaking point. You tilted your head back, your vision turned black as you felt clear liquid come out of you. Fuck, he made you squirt. After a minute to catch your breath you looked at him. The bottom part of his face was drenched in your juices. He looked you in the eyes as he slowly ran his tongue along his lips. ’’I was right, you taste magnificent. So sweet, love.’’ 

Sunghoon was still hard and leaking. He quickly got rid of his trucks and stood naked before you. You couldn’t believe a man this beautiful existed. He slowly put himself on top of you. Your breasts were flush against his chest, the tip of his dick teasingly near your entrance. ‘’You have no idea what you do to me.’’ Sunghoon said between kisses.’’ ‘’Just fuck me Sunghoon.’’ You felt that you would die if he didn’t put his dick inside you. He laughed under his breath and said. ‘’As you wish love.’’ 

He slowly pushed himself inside you. The stretch was painful at first, but as he let you adjust to his size, it began to feel so good. ‘’ You are taking me so good.’’ He said as he began moving his hips. You couldn’t help but moan in his ear. You threw your legs around his waist and the new angle made you feel him deeper than before. Sunghoon was loud and you were glad. His moans and whimpers, right beside your ear, made you clench around him. ‘’ Ugh, you feel so good baby, I think I’m close.’’

‘’Me too. Please don’t stop,fuck me harder.’’

Sunghoon listened to your pleads and began thrusting his hips harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the place around the two of you. Not long after that you felt your release. Screaming his name you came around his dick. Sunghoon continued fucking you through your orgasm. He pulled out and his cum landed on just below your belly button, slowly making its way down your pussy. 

‘’Beautiful.’’ He gazed at your naked body, spread out on the makeshift bed the two of you shared. You ran your finger through his cum and you gathered some in your fingers. Locking eyes with Sunghoon you placed your fingers in your mouth slowly sucking on them as the flavour of his cum hit your taste buds. ‘’ You taste good too, Sunghoon.’’ The look on his face was priceless.

‘’Don’t do this to me, love. We will be up all night if you continue doing this to me.’’ Standing up he held his arm out to you. ‘’Let’s clean up and go to sleep, we have to have energy for tomorrow.’’ 

‘’I still can’t believe tomorrow we’ll leave this island forever.’’

‘’Me too. But I’m kinda glad I ended up here. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met you. When we return home safely, let me take you out on a date. What do you think.’’ 

,,Then let’s make it back home. I can’t wait for our date.”

Please don’t copy, repost, translate or alter my work.

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

fangirling and finances 𓂂 𓇼˚｡ •

Summary: offical merch is expensive. the men who sell it are rich. doesn't mean i won't go in a rant about it.

✿ ln x desi!reader ✦

✿ fluff + humour ✦

masterlist ☾☼

monaco glistened in the mediterranean sunlight, a playground for the global elite. y/n, though, had another purpose. no need for the designer stores; she was tracking lando norris. she gripped her phone, praying she could take a photo if she managed to get close enough. her wardrobe? a much-worn "lando 4" t-shirt, a copy she'd bought from a street stall back home in india. official f1 merchandise prices would make her cry – genuinely, who could possibly afford those prices? seeing a known face by the casino square, y/n's heart leaped. it was him! taking a deep breath, she walked over, attempting to look as casual as possible. "mr. norris, may i have an autograph?" lando grinned, always the professional, and autographed her phone case. as he returned it to her, his eyes fell on her t-shirt. "cool shirt," he said, "but why not get the official merch? the quality is so much better." that was it. the floodgates opened. "are you kidding me? official merch is highway robbery! i could practically fund a small road trip around europe with the cost of one of your official hoodies!" lando blinked, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. road trips? he was more used to private jets. "uh-huh," he said, clearly not understanding the financial reality of budget travel. y/n was going strong. "see, a good official t-shirt will cost you about 80 euros, okay? that's, like, 7,200 rupees! i can buy at least five of these fake shirts for that kind of money, and they're not half bad! or, let's look at it this way, that's enough for, like, 140 big mac meals in india! imagine the food coma!" lando stared at her, confusion and fascination warring in his gaze. big macs? he lived in michelin-star restaurants. but she was so vivid, so evocative with her words; the sheer incredulity of her comparisons swept him up in their wake. "right," he answered slowly, "big macs. got it." y/n, unaware of his millionaire thinking, was only just beginning. "and those caps? don't even get me started! 40 euros for a cap? that's 3,600 rupees! i could buy a good pair of running shoes for that! shoes i could use to run away from those ridiculous prices!" lando, however, was undergoing some weird phenomenon. it was akin to "cuteness aggression," but rather than having the urge to squeeze a puppy, he simply wanted to continue hearing her. her furrowed brow, the frantic maths on her phone, the very universality of her money troubles – it was all oddly charming. casually, he suggested, "so, if money did not matter, what pieces would you most want?" y/n, without hesitation, recited her fantasy wishlist: a team polo, windbreaker, the limited-edition monaco hat, even the official team backpack. she listed the prices both in euros and rupees, not even catching lando's discreetly opening eyes at the sum. "and where are you staying?" he inquired, attempting to be casual. "how long are you in monaco?" y/n, still enthralled by her merchandise fever, replied eagerly, sharing information about her budget hotel and the last few days of her journey. lando listened intently, taking it in. "i'll… uh… i'll see what i can do with those prices," he replied with a small smile, well aware he wasn't going to negotiate with the official merchandise vendor. the next morning, an unassuming van arrived outside of y/n's hotel. a delivery man appeared, holding an enormous, unorthodox-looking package. on the inside, wrapped in tissues, were every item y/n had listed. the monaco cap, team polo, windbreaker, even the backpack. in a side pocket was stuck a tiny note, scribbled in pen: "look at the prices… adjusted ;) - lando." y/n gazed at the box contents, her mouth agape. she couldn't believe it. lando had actually… he'd listened to her rant! she messaged her friends immediately, telling them the tale in wide-eyed wonder, exaggerating the details just a little for dramatic effect. the question now was: what next? would this be an isolated act of kindness, or the start of something bigger? she had no clue, but she couldn't help grinning. this was certainly a vacation to remember.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

tf, why do i like this? dee, this is for you. anyways, i hope you like this! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday ; @imlonelydontsendhelp ; @peterholland04 ; @justaf1girl ; @greantii ; @nocturnalherb16 ; @phobiccneel ; @winkev1 ; @alexxavicry ; @hiireadstuff ; @opastries81

[hrrtshape]

PLEASE talk about your gossip girl dr you mentioned and young coryooo🥺🥺🥺🥺

things that my boyfriend does in my better cr that....truly warms my heart ( aka emma yaps about coryo )

finished writing this up in maths class, and i just know my teacher thinks i’ve lost the plot….... why are you side-eyeing me? let me giggle in peace.

he carries (one of) my lip glosses in his pocket and acts like it’s the biggest inconvenience but pulls it out instantly when i ask.

sharing airpods in class like it’s a lifeline but he always gives me the one that’s fully charged while he suffers with the dying one.

taking pictures of me when i’m not looking and making them his lock screen. which. ugh. cutie.

he lets me draw on his arm with a pen during class and then complains when it doesn’t wash off before dinner with his parents.

matching hoodies but we pretend it’s not on purpose.

dumb little inside jokes that make absolutely no sense to anyone else. he texts me "frog incident" in the middle of a test and i have to physically leave the room because i’m laughing too hard.

he always ties my shoelaces for me if they come undone, even if it means getting on one knee in the middle of the hallway like a loser.

doodling on my notes in class and writing things like property of coriolanus snow just to get a reaction out of me. weirdo......cringe lowkey. no i love him.

him randomly biting my shoulder when he’s bored.

me (!!) biting his bicep when i'm bored.

he always waits for me outside my last class leaning against the wall like he’s in a music video.

wearing my scrunchie on his wrist because i “left it in his car” (he did NOT have to keep it on).

fell asleep on each other during long drive and woke up to find he’s holding my hand in his sleep.

we made dubai chocolate, and thank god i know my baking cause he curdled the only chocolate we had.

taking me to the gym (ew), but not for like any malicious reason, actually i was the one who suggested it because this man *exercises*!!!!! like ok miss productive at a gym at five am.

matching the maison margiela tabi shoes, it's such a small detail, but i absolutely adore it. he'd be wearing lace-ups and i'd be wearing ballet flats.

driving me to school every morning.

i just have to mention this one part cause it’s so GRAH but i was walking out of my apartment complex and he was leaning against one of the pillars smoking and i came outside and he like wrapped his arm around my shoulder and continued smoking with his free hand. like okay..........

picking me up from the airport at 1am a few days before new years because i got out of the holiday family meetups just a bit earlier to see him.

when i got drunk on soju during the lighting of the tree at rockefeller centre and he was trying to heat me up.

he pinches my cheek. and that’s so evil. like. what the fawk. cherubicusm is NOT A FUNNY THING.

if he’s tired or annoyed or just being an absolute menace, he hooks a finger through my belt loop and just tugs me where he wants me. like i’m a thing to be dragged around. (and maybe i like it a bit....)

late-night drive-thru runs where he insists on ordering for me even though i could do it myself, just so he can say “and a chocolate milkshake for my girl” like we’re in a 1950s movie.

he keeps a lipstick-stained napkin from a dinner date in his wallet and pretends it’s just in there by accident, but he refuses to throw it away.

when i do my makeup in his room, he sits on his bed and watches.

he always puts my hair behind my ear when it falls in my face. not even thinking about it. just automatic.

when i fell asleep on his shoulder during a flight, he stayed awake the whole time just so my head wouldn’t move.

he let me paint his nails, but only clear polish, and only if i promised not to tell anyone.

he never lets me carry my own suitcase. ever. even when i argue.

when we go to stupid parties, he always keeps an arm around my shoulder when we’re moving through crowds, just so we don’t get separated.

he untangles my necklace chain when it gets knotted. just takes it from my hands and fixes it like it’s nothing.

i didn't respond to his texts once and he sent me a picture of my own house like “i know you’re in there.”

this is the mooooost miniscule but ungodly detail that made me want to marry him, but, having soy milk in his fridge. mind you, he lives with his family (he's 18 and we're still in school) and i visit 7 times max per week (every day....). and. wow. ugh.

every time he borrows a pen, he returns it with the cap bitten.

when i was complaining about my hands being cold, he took them in his and blew warm air on them.

when i’m walking ahead of him, he loops a finger through my bag strap and tugs me back. like...... not so fast. like.... where do you think you’re going?

we hook our pinkies together when walking. monster.

he adjusts my necklace when it gets twisted, gently brushing his knuckles against my throat. no acknowledgment. no reaction. just fixes it and moves on. (like a freak.)

if we’re arguing and i cross my arms, he just reaches out and tugs my wrist free, uncrossing them with this calm, effortless little motion. LIKE??? HELLO??? I NEED THAT BACK, ACTUALLY???

[lunajay33]

Searching for You Part.2

•🪽🧺🧟‍♀️•

Summary: Reader and Daryl have been together since you were teens, you have crazy news for him but then the world falls apart and your searching for him every second

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Warning: Pregnant

Part.1

•Masterlist•

I wake up feeling the ache on the side of my face reminding me all over again of what happened the day before, looking beside me seeing Daryl still fast asleep still feeling like someone was watching out for us to come back together again

“Yer watching me again” I hear him grumble as his eyes peak open pulling me closer by my hips

“I can’t help it when I’m laying next to my ever so handsome husband” seeing him squint makes me laugh knowing he’s not rest with compliments but I always found it cute

“How’re ya feelin?” He sighs gently tracing what’s probably a deep purple bruise lining the whole of my left side of my face

I shrug my shoulders as I run my fingers through his hair

“Do you think I’m safe here? I don’t trust some of the men here”

“Ya know I wouldn’t let them hurt ya again”

“You can’t watch me 24/7 D, I’m just anxious that’s all” he squeezes my thigh which always calmed me

“But I can try”

🍂

The days blended together as I helped around the camp and Daryl helped hunt for the others who didn’t know a thing about survival, Merle had gotten himself stuck on a roof in Atlanta and now the group were arguing about how Daryl would take it as if I wasn’t right here

“Daryl’s gonna kill someone”

“Who’s Daryl?” The new guy Rick asks

“Merle’s brother, it ain’t gonna be good” Shane groans

“Hey enough, I’m right here” I snap as I walk over to sit by the rv to get a bottle of water

“That’s Daryl’s……girlfriend I guess, they don’t tell us much” Glenn said nervously he was such a nerd but he was sweet

“Daryl’s out there hunting for this group, he’s supplying food isn’t that good enough for you people?” They kept quiet after that until the children scream coming from the woods

Everyone flees but I stay put exhausted in this Georgia heat until I see Daryl come out with the others following

“MERLE!” He calls out as he walks over to me quickly squeezing my hand before looking back around for Merle, he isn’t much for pda but I know he can’t keep his hands off of me in private

“Where’s Merle?” He asks

“Something happened D, the group went to the city, he’s stuck on a roof” he turns to the group with anger

“Let me get this straight you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you LEFT HIM THERE?” He screamed

Things escalated quickly until Shane comes in holding Daryl in a choke hold, running over I try to push him away but he knocks me back making me fall to the dirt, something snapped maybe the heat and the stress plus the fall but things were feeling fuzzy

“YA SON OF A BITCH” I faintly hear Daryl yell before he’s at my side holding me

“Hey ya alright” he was blurry

“I…..don’t feel good” he snagged a water bottle from someone and pressing it to my lips I felt so weak

“Come on sunshine stay with me” after a few moments the ringing went away and I could clearly see again as I slowly sat up

“You okay dear?” Dale asks as he kneels down next to us

“Yeah just had a moment I guess”

“Come on let’s get ya some rest” Daryl says scooping me up and into our tent, laying me down

“What just happened?”

“Just the heat and the fall I guess”

“Sleep, I’ll watch over ya while ya get her rest”

I woke up to the panicked voices outside as the sun was rising, Daryl not in the tent I get out seeing complete horror, walkers and camp members dead and scattered everywhere

“What the hell happened?” I state getting everyone attention

“There was an attack last night, ya slept through the whole thing” Daryl said

“Oops”

Everyone works on cleaning up as Daryl commands me to keep off my feet too worried about my health and the baby

“Wanna pull your weight around here or just sit on your ass?” Shane groans

“I…..Daryl wants me to relax after you almost knocked me out yesterday” I glare

“You’re not gonna survive with that attitude”

And for months after that those words stuck with me even now as we sat around the camp out side of the greenes house, now 4 months along I was finally popping, not being able to hide the bump anymore the others were noticing

“I hope this doesn’t come off wrong but are you pregnant?” Lori asks in front of the whole group

I nod not really caring because all I can think about is Daryl out there alone searching for Sophia

“Congrats dear, Daryl’s I presume?”

“Of course, he’s my husband after all” I heard some people gasp in shock

“What?”

“Your husband? You’re married I thought you guys kinda just met at the start” Glenn says

“Nope we’ve been together since highschool, got married, had a home, got pregnant and the next day after I told him all this happened”

“Wow I didn’t see that coming” Andrea said laughing and shaking her head

“What do you mean? Is it so hard to believe he could be married?” I groan as I rub my belly

“Well kinda ya, doesn’t seem the loving type”

“Well it’s a good thing you’re not in a relationship with him then, he’s mine that’s all I care about” I huff as I get up and head towards mine and Daryl’s tent out in the tree line away from the others

Sitting on a fallen over tree I dangle my feet over the edge, it’s been getting more and more violent on the farm the past week, with Sofia missing and Shane getting crankier it’s not feeling safe anymore

A rustling comes from the trees and out comes my sweaty glorious husband the sun hitting him just right

I walk over to him and throw my arms around him, his arms holding me tight

“How did it go today?” I ask as I lead him back to our tent to help clean him up

“The same, I don’t know where else to look”

“I overheard something today” I say nervously

“And what is that sunshine?” He asks as he holds my hips as I take a cleaning wipe and wipe over his face

“Dale and I were having a morning walk since he’s incessant that I get my walks in while I’m pregnant, we were walking by that old barn and I heard some noises, I looked through the cracks and…..it’s filled with walkers, women, men, and I swear I saw a child” he looked at me with a look of terror

“I knew something was off with them, do ya think she’s in there?” He asked a frown on his lips

“I’d love to say no but in this world now I can never be sure…..woah” I groan feeling a quick pressure on my belly

“What are ya okay?” He asks leaning me back to sit as he lifts my shirt to see a tiny footprint before it was gone again

“Oh my god, that was adorable” I giggle as he looks stunned

“She’s a kicker, our lil ass kicker” his hand rubs my belly wanting to feel her kick again

“She’s in there so small and innocent, she doesn’t even know what this world is waiting for her, she won’t even know how things use to be”

“I’ll try my best ta protect ya both, give ya the life ya both deserve”

“I love you Daryl but……you know we can’t stay here right, even though I’d love too but between the barn and the growing tension with Shane I don’t feel safe”

“I know Angel we’ll figure it out”

•

The day came that I was dreading the farm was over flowing with walkers, Rick, Shane and Carl out there somewhere

“Can you go out there and look for them” Lori asks Daryl

“No lori what’re you thinking you can’t just ask him to go and risk his life again for this group, please stay Daryl” he nods as he holds me close

“We gotta get outta here, try and get to yer cars we can get out before it’s too late” we get our things and leave the house but the walkers are on us, people going in all directions and I’m separated from Daryl being pushed into the forest Andrea drags be along

“Come in keep up they’re catching up” being 5 months pregnant now it’s hard to run for hours on end

“Andrea…..I can’t it’s too much” she groans and runs off leaving me behind, I panic taking in a deep breath and instead of trying to outrun them straight I try and jog off to the side hopefully out of the way of their path

How will I make it through this alone and pregnant?

~

Part 3

Taglist: @heidiland05 @i93jjk @stories4you04-x @itsjustmeandmyanxiety @writer-ann-artist @buck-this-nasty @holdmytesseract

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 22

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: Angst, tension, feeling of betrayal, mentions of loss of appetite, arguments, this ones a looooooong one

The sun is beginning its slow descent by the time I finally drag myself out of bed. My body feels heavy, like I’ve been carrying the weight of the world in my chest. I need something, anything, to ground me, and right now, a cup of tea sounds like the only thing that might help.

That’s the plan. Go to the kitchen, make it, and come straight back up to my room. I’ll sit on my balcony and watch the last bits of sunlight disappear while I think about what to do next.

 But my main goal: avoid Matt.

I slip out of my room, moving as quietly as possible. The last thing I want is to draw attention to myself. The house is silent apart from the distant murmur of voices outside on the patio. I catch a glimpse through the window, figures sitting around, but I can’t make out exactly who. Not that it matters. I’m not stopping to find out.

The only sound that gives away my presence is the low whirl of the kettle. I stand there, staring at it as it heats up, feeling every second drag out like an eternity. I grab a mug and put the tea bag in it so as soon as it clicks off, I can pour the water and milk, moving quickly but carefully. Just get in, get out.

Successfully, I make my tea. 

Mission accomplished. 

Now, I just need to make it back upstairs.

But just as I start up the steps, the sound of the patio door sliding open sends a jolt of panic through me. 

Shit.

I don’t even turn to see who it is, I just pick up my pace, practically going up the steps two at a time.

I reach the top of the stairs and turn the corner, then..

BAM.

I nearly spill my tea everywhere as I slam into someone, my breath catching in my throat. I look up, and my stomach drops.

Matt.

For a split second, time slows. His eyes lock onto mine, searching, but I don’t give him the chance. Like I’m on autopilot, my feet keep moving, my mouth stays shut, and I walk right past him without a single word.

I don’t stop. I don’t hesitate. I reach my room, step inside, and lock the door behind me.

I let out a shaky breath, gripping my mug a little tighter. I try my best to shake it off. It was just a few seconds. Just an unfortunate encounter in a house that now feels way too small.

I know I’m going to have to face him sooner or later. There’s no avoiding it forever. But I’m not ready right now, not for a one on one, not for the inevitable conversation.

So, instead of dwelling on it, I step onto the balcony. The sun is slowly dropping lower, so I sit here and try an appreciate the sky, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe..

Until there's a knock at my door.

I freeze.

No. No, no, no. If this is Matt, I swear to god.

But then I hear a familiar voice from the other side of the door.

“Y/n? It’s me.”

Nick.

Relief washes over me so quickly it almost knocks me over. I exhale, setting my tea down on the small table before walking back inside. I hesitate for just a second before unlocking the door.

Nick steps into the room, his expression soft but searching mine. "How you doing?"

I shrug lightly, forcing a small smile. "I'm okay.. I just made a cup of tea. Was gonna sit out on the balcony while the sun sets."

Nick nods, his eyes flicking toward the open balcony doors. "Mind if I sit with you?"

"Of course not" I say, stepping aside so he can follow me out.

We settle into the chairs. The silence between us is comforting, a huge difference to the chaos of the past twenty four hours.

After a minute, Nick clears his throat. "I ran into Matt coming up the stairs."

My body stiffens, fingers tightening around my mug. "Oh."

“I just asked if he had spoken to you yet, and he said no."

I huff out a breath, looking back toward the view. I take a slow sip of my tea before turning back to Nick. "So, what's your plan for the night?"

He leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. "I'm gonna go meet that guy."

I raise an eyebrow. "That guy? You’ve been talking about him for days, and I still don’t even know his name."

Nick hesitates, his expression shifting slightly. He looks at me like he's bracing for something.

I narrow my eyes. "Nick.. what?"

He winces, rubbing the back of his neck. "His name is.. George."

For a second, we just stare at each other. Then, at the exact same moment, we both burst out laughing.

"George?!" I manage between laughs.

"I know! I know!" Nick groans, covering his face. "I was hoping you wouldn’t ask."

"I'm sorry, but that’s just- " I laugh harder, shaking my head.

Nick grins, finally giving in. "I know I never pictured myself with a George but I swear, the way he is makes up for it though!"

"I'm sure it does.." I say, still giggling. "It's just.. George."

We end our fit of laughter and I don’t bother asking what everyone else’s plans are, especially after overhearing Chris earlier. My guess is he’s going to meet Rachel. Whether Matt tags along to meet Christina too is a different story. I don’t want to know. All I know is that I’m not moving from this room.

Nick doesn’t press the conversation any further, and I appreciate that. Instead, we sit there, laughter lingering in the air between us. I'm glad Nick came into me because suddenly I feel a little bit lighter.

Eventually, he checks his phone and sighs. "I should probably start getting ready."

I nod, still staring at the sunset. "Yeah. Have fun."

Nick hesitates for a second before standing. "You sure you’re good?"

I glance at him, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I’m good." I mean it is a lie, but he doesn’t call me out on it.

He squeezes my shoulder before heading out. I exhale, setting my empty mug down on the table beside me. I know I should eat something, try to distract myself, maybe even attempt to sleep, but I don’t move. I stay curled up in my chair, staring at the fading sky, wondering how everything changed so fast.

When I finally move to my bed, I pull the covers up around me, but even laying here feels weird. The sheets feel awful against me now, tainted with memories that once brought comfort but now only make my stomach churn. My mind spirals, picturing how easily our history could be replicated in his bed, with someone else. The thought makes my chest tighten, and I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting it all to stop.

I take a deep breath, then another, but it doesn’t help. My mind keeps circling back to the same place, the same questions, the same ache in my chest that refuses to go away. How could he do this? Did any of it mean anything? Was I just another passing moment for him?

I need to make it stop.

I turn onto my side, curling into myself, exhausted from it all. Being honest, my eyes hurt that much from crying, I don’t find it hard to fall asleep.

I wake up the next morning determined to be a new woman. I have a shower to wash away all of yesterday's sorrow, before pulling out the smallest blue bikini I could find. I make my way downstairs and throw myself together a small breakfast, considering I haven't eaten in over 24 hours but not forcing myself too much as my appetite still isn't fully back yet.

I take my breakfast outside to the patio and I settle onto a lounger, my plate resting on my lap. The villa is silent. Everyone must still be asleep, sleeping off their drunken choices, their reckless mistakes.

Good. I need the peace.

I take a slow bite of my food, staring out at the water. The pool glistens under the morning light, the water undisturbed. Today is a new day. A fresh start.

I adjust my sunglasses and stretch out after putting my plate under my lounger, determined to soak in the sun and let it warm the parts of me that feel cold and bitter. If anyone sees me out here, I want them to see that I’m unbothered. That I’m fine.

A few minutes pass in silence before I hear the sliding door creak open behind me. I don't turn to look. I don't react.

I realise it’s Nate and Nick coming out, both looking more awake than I expected.

"Morning" they say in unison, and I greet them with a small smile “Morning early birds.”

I turn to Nick first. "Soooo? How was your night with George?"

Nick rubs the back of his neck, and I can tell he’s holding back his excitement for my sake. "It was good" he says simply.

I narrow my eyes at him. "Nick."

He sighs, then finally lets the grin slip through. "Okay, fine. It was great, actually. We got drinks, had a laugh. He’s funny, really easy to talk to."

I smile at him, genuinely happy. "That’s what I like to hear. You deserve a good time."

Nick gives me a look, like he’s checking if I really mean it. I do. Just because my love life is a disaster doesn’t mean I want everyone else to be miserable with me.

I turn to Nate next. "And what about you? What were you up to?"

Nate stretches his arms over his head, looking far too well rested. "Didn’t move from my bed. Best sleep I’ve had in weeks."

I laugh. "Of course you did. You look like you just got back from a spa retreat while the rest of us look like we barely survived the night."

The three of us settle into conversation, and for a moment, I let myself enjoy the lightness of it. But in the back of my mind, I know this moment won’t last. The rest of the villa is still asleep, for now. And soon enough, I’ll have to face the reality I’ve been trying to avoid.

"Is Chris up?" I ask Nate, trying to sound casual.

Nate shakes his head. "Don’t think he even came back here last night."

I swallow hard, nodding slowly. "Oh right"

There's been no sign of Matt either. That tells me everything I need to know.

Guess that means he went out with Chris and stayed with Christina last night again.

I should’ve expected it, but expecting something doesn’t make it hurt any less.

For the rest of the morning, it stays just me, Nick, and Nate chilling outside. The sun climbs higher, and the villa remains quiet, no sign of Chris or Matt. I sip on my water, listening to the distant waves crashing on the shore, slipping in and out of conversation with Nick and Nate as a distraction.

By midday, that peacefulness is interrupted. I hear the sliding door open, followed by the sound of footsteps approaching.

I lift my head slightly, peering through my sunglasses. Chris and Matt step outside together. Just seeing them like this, together, appearing at the same time, only further confirms what I already knew. 

Matt was with Christina last night.

I can feel my heart break over again, but I refuse to let it show.

Without a word, I rest my head back down on the lounger, keeping my sunglasses on, blocking them out. I’m not ready for any type of conversation. Not yet.

Nate and Nick casually greet them, like nothing is out of the ordinary. Chris stretches, rubbing the back of his neck, and asks if anyone’s hungry.

My stomach twists at the thought of food. The second I saw Matt, my appetite vanished again. So I keep my mouth closed.

Nate says he is and disappears inside with them, leaving just me and Nick alone by the pool.

The quiet settles between us for a moment before Nick turns to me. “Are you coming to dinner tonight?” His tone sounds like he wants me to be there, even though he understands If I don’t want to.

I hesitate. The idea of sitting at a table with Matt, pretending everything is fine, feels impossible. I open my mouth to say no, but Nick is already cutting me off.

“You don’t have to talk to him at all” he reassures me. “I’ll be there the whole time.”

I exhale, chewing on my bottom lip. I do feel bad if I don’t go. It’s just dinner, right? I mean, the tension between Matt and I is like old times, nothing I haven’t had to deal with or experience before. The only thing is, the feeling in my chest is a hundred times worse than it ever was before.

“Okay” I finally say. “I’ll come.”

Nick grins, tapping my arm lightly. “We’ll have a good time, I promise.”

I nod, but the weight in my chest doesn’t lift.

By now, it’s nearly 3pm, and the sun has drained me but nowhere near as much as the situation with Matt has. The exhaustion clings to me, both physical and emotional, and I know if I don’t rest now, I’ll be useless later.

“I think I’m gonna go for a nap” I mumble, pushing myself up from the lounger.

Nick gives me a small smile. “Good idea. I’ll wake you if you’re not up in time.”

I nod again, grateful, and make my way inside. The second I hit my bed, the world around me fades.

When I wake up, the air in my room feels heavier, the remnants of my dreams still in my brain. I shake them off and head straight for the shower.

By the time I step out, wrapped in a towel, I feel better. Maybe, tonight won’t be as bad as I think.

I walk out and go to sit at the vanity, but I feel like I need to lift the vibe even more.

A drink and music.

That’s what I need if I have any chance of enjoying myself tonight.

Still in my towel, I make my way downstairs, moving quickly so I don’t run into anyone. I pour myself a vodka lemonade, throwing pieces of ice into the fancy glass.

Running back up to my room, I shut the door, take a sip, and set my speaker on full blast. I turn on It’s ok, i’m ok by Tate McRae, the lyrics hitting a little too close to home. I let the music drown out my thoughts as I start getting ready, determined to feel like myself again, even if it’s just for tonight.

I move through my routine on autopilot, letting the music and the slight buzz from my drink carry me through. I’m not overthinking my outfit, my makeup, or my hair, yet somehow, when I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I look effortlessly put together. Maybe it’s the lighting, maybe it’s the fact that I’ve just given up on caring, but either way, I feel like this is the best I’ve ever looked.

I pick up my phone and text Nick, asking him to come to my room to take pictures. It barely takes a minute before he’s knocking on my door, slipping inside with an approving grin.

“Damnnnn!” he says, dragging the word out. “You look amazing.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my lips. “You have to say that.”

“I really don’t” he laughs, already pulling his phone out. “We need evidence of this moment.”

We take a few pictures together, Nick hyping me up between shots, making me laugh just enough to keep it natural.

When we’re satisfied with the pictures, I wonder where it is we’re actually going to eat. “So, where are we even going for dinner?”

“Some Italian place Chris booked” Nick says, glancing at his phone. “He said he made the reservation earlier.

I nod, I love italian food, so I’m hoping this whole thing is just easy. I grab my purse, double checking that I have everything, phone, keys to the villa, money. I take a deep breath before heading downstairs with Nick.

The moment we step into the foyer, I see them. Chris, Nate, and Matt are all standing together, talking casually like nothing has changed, like the last few days haven’t flipped my world upside down. Matt looks up first. For the briefest second, our eyes meet, and I swear I see something flash across his face, it’s something, but I can’t make out what. But I don’t let myself dwell on it.

I adjust the strap of my purse on my shoulder, forcing my expression to remain neutral. This is the closest I’ve been to Matt since the nightclub, since everything, but I refuse to let it get to me. Not tonight.

I tilt my chin up slightly, gripping onto my confidence like it’s my lifeline, and step forward like I don’t have a care in the world.

I stay locked in conversation with Nick as we leave the villa to make our way to the restaurant, trying to distract myself from the tension in the air. Chris lingers back slightly, eventually matching my pace as we walk. His presence next to me is quiet at first, almost hesitant, before he finally speaks.

"You okay?" His voice is low, careful, like he already knows the answer but feels the need to ask anyway.

It’s a weird one. I haven't heard from Chris since everything went down. He’s been distant, not in a hostile way, but in a way that tells me he didn’t know how to approach me. And now, here he is, finally asking.

I glance at him briefly, weighing my response before settling on, "I will be."

Chris nods slowly, seeming to accept that answer. “Can we talk later? About everything?”

I exhale softly, not quite ready to dive into whatever everything entails but knowing that it’s overdue. I don’t think there was any malice from him in this situation. And I’m not mad at him at all. I would like to know what his thought process was throughout all this. And maybe, he's actually done me a favour. “Yeah,” I agree. “Later.”

That seems to be enough for now. The group keeps moving, making our way toward the restaurant. When we arrive, the guys step inside ahead of us, but I notice them mumbling amongst themselves, their voices low and almost hurried, like there’s some sort of confusion.

Something about their body language makes me pause, and I follow their line of sight before realizing exactly what has caught their attention.

Rachel and Christina.

They’re seated at a table near the back. Five empty seats are pulled out beside them, waiting.

A sharp, sinking feeling settles in my stomach.

Of course. 

Of course they’re here. It was already bad enough having to see Matt, to sit across from him and pretend I wasn’t still breaking, but now, this?

I don’t even have to look at him to know. I can feel his presence, his hesitation. I wonder if he knew they’d be here. If this was always the plan.

My fingers tighten slightly around the strap of my purse as I will myself to keep my composure.

This night just got a whole lot harder.

Nick squeezes my hand gently, a silent reassurance that he’s here, that I’m not alone in this. “What do you wanna do?” he asks quietly, his voice just for me.

I take a breath, steadying myself. “Sit at the other end” I say, keeping my voice even, refusing to let this shake me any more than it already has.

Without hesitation, Nick follows my lead, guiding me toward the farthest end of the table, away from Rachel and Christina. I slide into my seat, positioning myself as far as I can from them, while Nick sits beside me, his presence like a barrier between me and whatever mess is sitting across the table.

Matt and Chris take their seats. Chris next to Rachel and Matt next to Christina. Whether it was planned or just happened naturally, I don’t know, but it doesn’t make a difference, the damage is done. 

The tension is suffocating. You could cut it with a knife. I never thought at the start of this trip I’d be sitting diagonally across from Matt and another girl.

Nobody speaks at first. There’s an awkward shuffle of menus being picked up, the quiet clinking of silverware as waiters move around us, but no real conversation. 

I keep my gaze down, focused on the menu even though I’m not really reading it. My appetite had started to come back earlier, but now? Completely gone again.

Nick, ever my lifeline in this nightmare, leans in slightly constantly making sure I’m okay. “You good?” he murmurs, his voice low enough that only I can hear.

I nod once, though I’m not sure if I mean it. “Yeah” I lie. “I’m fine.”

But we both know I’m not.

I try to keep my focus on the menu, pretending to be absorbed in the options, but it’s impossible to ignore Christina. She is relentless, shifting in her seat so she’s angled toward Matt, her body language screaming interest. The way she leans forward, the way her fingers reach out casually to graze his forearm as she talks, it’s all so intentional.

“Oh my God, Matt, you look so good tonight” she purrs, tilting her head as she studies him. “Did you do something different? Your hair? A new cologne?”

Matt barely reacts, only offering a tight lipped smile as he glances at her briefly. “Uh, no. Same as always.” he replies, going back to his menu.

But Christina isn’t deterred. She lets out a soft, exaggerated sigh. “God, I can’t believe we’re all in Hawaii together. It feels like such a movie moment, don’t you think?” She flicks her gaze up at him through her lashes. “Like, if this was a movie, we’d be the main characters.”

Matt huffs a small laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Yeah, I don’t know about that, don’t really take myself as the main character type of guy.” His tone is light, but there’s no real engagement. He’s keeping it neutral.

She’s not giving up, though. She leans in again, dropping her voice to something more sultry. “You know, I had so much fun the other night” she murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. 

My stomach twists, but I don’t react. I refuse to. Instead, I lift my glass of water to my lips, taking a slow sip as if I’m completely unbothered.

Nick shifts beside me, subtly kicking my foot under the table as if to say don’t react. I know he’s watching me closely, waiting for me to crack, but I won’t.

Chris, who’s been silent this whole time, suddenly clears his throat. “Christina, didn’t you say this was your first time in Hawaii?”

It’s so obviously a distraction tactic, and I can’t tell if he’s doing it to get her off Matt’s back or because he knows I’m sitting here, silently absorbing every word.

Christina finally tears her gaze away from Matt and glances at Chris. “Oh, yeah it is.” she says, waving a hand dismissively. 

Matt doesn’t say anything. He just flips a page of the menu, like none of this is even phasing him. Meanwhile, Rachel is watching me like a hawk, waiting for a reaction.

I meet her eyes for a split second and give her the most nonchalant look I can muster before turning to Nick. “What are you getting?” I ask, my voice steady.

Nick glances at me, eyes scanning my face for any sign of weakness before answering, “Probably the carbonara.”

I nod. “Good choice.”

Nate, ever the sweetheart, seems to pick up on everything, the way I’m keeping my head down, the way Nick keeps a protective presence beside me, the way Matt and Christina’s exchange is unfolding just within earshot. Without missing a beat, he slides into conversation with me and Nick as he’s seated opposite us, as if we’re in our own little bubble, separate from the tension on the other side of the table.

“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Nate asks, leaning forward with a smile. “I was thinking of heading down to the beach early. Maybe rent a jet ski or something. You two in?”

Nick catches on immediately, grateful for the shift in attention. “Absolutely. I’d love to see you wipe out within the first five minutes.”

Nate pretends to be offended, placing a hand over his chest. “Excuse you, I’m actually a professional. Very experienced!”

I can’t help but smile at their antics, grateful for the distraction. “Professional, huh? I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Nate smirks. “Oh, you will. And when I leave you both in my wake, don’t come crying to me.”

Nick scoffs. “Yeah, okay, Nate. Keep dreaming.”

As we laugh, it’s almost easy to forget the rest of the table exists, almost. Because out of the corner of my eye, I see Chris sitting stiffly, glancing between me and the rest of the group, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He hasn’t even touched his menu. He just sits there, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like he’s caught in the middle of something he never signed up for.

At one point, he opens his mouth like he wants to say something,to me, but then he hesitates, pressing his lips together instead. His fingers drum restlessly against the table. It’s almost like he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but he can’t.

I keep my focus on Nate and Nick as everyone gives their orders, letting them carry me through the moment, keeping me occupied. And for now, that’s all I need.

The food arrives shortly after, and I focus on my meal, keeping my eyes down, keeping my composure. If I just get through dinner, I’ll be fine.

But Christina doesn’t make it easy.

She just doesn’t stop, her voice carrying just loud enough to ensure I hear every flirtatious remark, every exaggerated giggle. It’s all so obvious, the way she leans toward Matt, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger. 

“Oh my God, Matt, you’re so funny” she forces, brushing her fingers against his wrist like it’s the most natural thing in the world. He hasn’t even said anything that funny.

“We should totally do something after this!” Christina continues, tilting her head. “Maybe check out that tiki bar? It would be so fun.”

Matt doesn’t commit. “Maybe.”

Maybe.

That single word twists something in my stomach, because it means he hasn’t outright said no. And I know it shouldn’t matter but that doesn’t stop the sting.

As everyone starts discussing where to go next, I stay quiet, already knowing my answer. The only place I want to be right now is home. I only ever agreed to dinner, nothing more. The idea of trailing behind while Christina continues her performance, while Matt does whatever he’s doing, is unbearable.

I lean toward Nick and quietly tell him, “I’m heading back.”

He nods in understanding, not even questioning it. “That’s fair. I’ll go for one drink, then I’ll be home after. We can debrief, I’ll try to get more info.”

I manage a small smile at that. If there’s anyone I can count on to feed me the details later, it’s Nick.

We both stand, and I feel Chris’s eyes on me, but I don’t meet them. If he wants to talk, he can find me when I’m not on the verge of either snapping or crying.

Nick walks me to the taxi rank just outside the restaurant, following behind me as we weave through the crowd. I should want to stay out, to drown out my thoughts with drinks and distractions, but all I want is to be alone.

“You sure you’re okay going back on your own?” Nick asks as we wait for a taxi to pull up.

I let out a breath. “Yeah. Just over it.”

Nick doesn’t push. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way back.”

A taxi pulls up, and he opens the door for me. Before I get in, he squeezes my hand briefly, just a reminder that I’m not alone in all of this.

I nod my thanks, slide into the backseat, and as the car pulls away, I finally let out a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding.

I pull up to the villa and thank the taxi man, paying him for the fare. I step out of the car and as I do one pulls up directly behind me.

I freeze for a second, my stomach tightening as I watch Matt step out of the taxi behind me. Of all people, of all times, it has to be him.

I don’t wait for him to say anything. I turn toward the villa, walking quickly up the steps, my heels clicking against the cobblestone pavement. I take my keys out of my bag, unlocking the front door.

I can hear him behind me, his footsteps unhurried, like he’s debating whether to call my name.

“Wait” Matt’s voice finally breaks the silence, and I feel his presence closer than I expected. “Can we talk?”

I let out a slow breath before turning to face him, the front door slightly open behind me. His eyes search mine, like he’s trying to figure out where my head is at.

“Talk about what, Matt?” My voice is steady, but I can feel the exhaustion creeping in.

He rubs the back of his neck, looking almost.. nervous? “About this. About everything.”

“I’m not too sure what there is to talk about” I say, my voice surprisingly steady. “I’ve seen it all. I saw Christina in your bed. I saw how she was with you tonight.”

Matt’s face falls, and he opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but I don’t let him.

“And now, what? You think you can stand here and make some sorry excuse for your actions? Do you even realize how disrespectful that is?” My voice rises slightly, frustration taking over. “You can’t just act like nothing happened, Matt. You don’t get to do that.”

He sighs, rubbing his hand over his jaw. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"Well, it’s a bit too late for that now.” I say, my voice sharp. 

"I’m sorry." he mutters.

I let out a short laugh. "Yeah. So am I.”

Matt stands there looking at me, almost confused.

“I'm sorry I let you play with me for so long. Sorry I let you in, that I actually believed there was something real between us. But it’s clear now, isn’t it? Whatever tension was there, it was only ever sexual for you."

Matt steps forward, opening his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.

"So what now?" I snap, my voice shaking with anger. "What’s your next move? You feel bad for how you’ve treated me, so you’ll do what? Buy me flowers? But never actually give them to me? Did you ever track down Christina’s ex to get her locket back too? Or was that just a special little stunt for me?"

I let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking my head. "And don’t you dare try to tell me you haven’t been with anyone else since that night in the house. Christina basically spelled out what happened in Vegas to me at the club.”

Then realisation hits me. “It makes sense to me now, the real reason you customised your jacket that way. You didn’t do it because you felt something for me. You did it so if the topic of her in Vegas came up, you had something to sway me from believing it, so you could keep stringing me along.”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Can you please listen to me? I didn’t even know they were coming out here” he says quickly, almost desperately, like that one fact will make any of this better.

I scoff, shaking my head. “That doesn’t change anything.”

“It changes a lot” he insists, stepping forward. “Chris was the one that brought them out here, he has a thing with Rachel and probably just-”

"-wants to smash?" I finish for him, my voice sharp. 

"Yeah, Matt, I know. Just like you said before, that Chris only gave me a job because he wants to smash?" I tilt my head, watching as realization dawns on his face. "Yeah. I heard you when you said that."

Matt shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck. "I never meant that" he mutters. "I swear, I didn’t mean it like that."

"Oh really?" I fold my arms, my patience running dangerously thin. "How exactly did you mean it then, Matt?" My voice is sharp, no bullshit. "Because it sounded a lot like you were trying to discredit any of the work I do."

Matt exhales sharply, looking away. "It wasn’t about that, okay?" His voice is tight, like he’s struggling to find the right words. "Maybe I was jealous, maybe I was pissed off at the whole situation, maybe I just-" He stops himself, his jaw locking.

"Maybe you just what?" I push, my voice rising slightly.

His silence is louder than anything he could say. And then, it hits me.

I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head. "Oh my god. It was projection, wasn’t it?" I take a step closer, my words like a slap to the face. "You said Chris only gave me a job because he wanted to smash, but really, that was just you speaking for yourself. You only ever kept me around because that’s what you wanted."

I take a breath, my heart pounding. "And congratulations, Matt. You got it."

Matt’s face falls completely.

"And then you got it from her too, only a matter of hours later." My voice is laced with disgust, and I see the tears welling in Matt's eyes, but I don’t stop. "It’s obvious to me now, you never had feelings for me. You never cared."

I take another step closer, my chest rising and falling with the force of everything I’ve kept inside. "I know you saw me leave the club that night. I know you saw me walk out. And not once did you check on me. Not once did you care enough to see if I was okay. It was like, out of sight, out of mind. I disappeared, and you moved on like I was nothing."

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. "And then you brought her back here, to the same villa I’m staying in, to rub it in my fucking face? Like this is some sick joke to you?" And then to keep doing it, over and over again, like it wasn’t enough to break me once?" My voice shakes, but not from weakness, from the sheer weight of the betrayal burning inside me. "You didn’t just move on, Matt. You made sure I saw it. You made sure I felt it. Like twisting the knife wasn’t enough, you had to keep pushing it in, again and again."

I shake my head, my breathing uneven. "And for what? To prove a point? To get back at me for something you thought I’ve done? Or was it just fun for you? To watch me fall apart while you played pretend with her?"

Matt’s mouth opens like he wants to say something, to defend himself, but I cut him off before he can even try. "No. Don’t. Because there’s nothing you can say that will make this okay. Nothing you can do that will undo the fact that you chose this. You chose to hurt me. And I’m fucking done." I spit, my chest rising and falling with the force of everything I’ve held back. 

"Because all you’ve ever done is choose to hurt me. Over and over again, like it’s second nature to you." I stop for a second to catch my breath, realising how pointless this all is. "I don’t even understand why you’re standing in front of me right now, when what you want is down at the bar with everyone else. Stop bothering me, and go back down there and get it."

Matt looks at me, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, like he wants to argue. Like he wants to fight his case. But he doesn’t get to, not now. Not after everything.

"In fact" I breathe out a bitter laugh, shaking my head, "don’t ever think of speaking to me again. Because it’s clear now, Matt, we were always better off when we didn’t speak. When we just ignored each other. Maybe that’s what we should’ve stayed."

My heart is hammering in my chest, my entire body shaking from the adrenaline coursing through me. 

I turn around and storm into the villa, slamming the door so hard behind me that the walls seem to shake with the force of it. But he doesn’t follow. He doesn’t even try. Probably heading straight back down to the bar to get exactly what he wants. What he’s always wanted.

My blood is boiling as I march into my room, every step fueled by the sheer rage burning inside me. I feel like a bull, seeing red, ready to destroy everything in my path. But I don’t, because I don’t have time to waste on any of this anymore.

I grab my phone with trembling fingers, my vision blurring from unshed tears as I unlock it.

 I can’t stay here.

I refuse.

I pull up the American Airlines website, my breathing heavy, my chest rising and falling too fast. I don’t even hesitate as I search for the first available flight back home. 

The sooner, the better.

And when I find one, first thing tomorrow morning, I don’t even think twice. I press confirm before I can second guess myself, before the pain can catch up with me.

I’m leaving.

I’m done.

a/n : OOOOF. thats gotta sting.

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[seellove]

Could You Stay a Little Longer // drug dealer!sukuna x reader

Masterlist

Chapter 2 // (12.1k words) // Explicit - 18+

\|/ AO3 - Chapter 2 | << Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 >>

You're pursuing a master degree across the country, but are currently back in your hometown housesitting for your parents. They've told you all about their undesirable new neighbor, but when you start to get to know said neighbor, you realize he isn't all that bad. Your controlling boyfriend won't let up on you and you grapple with enjoying the company of this drug dealing neighbor boy, Sukuna. Nothing about this is going the way you planned, but is it so bad to let yourself be treated well for a change?

The cultural setting for this is technically economically depressed, rural USA where good paying jobs are hard to come by and there's not many opportunities in small towns, but it could really be anywhere that meets this criteria!

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are mid 20s, mentions of recreational drug use and drug dealing, mentions of abusive/controlling/manipulative relationship (not Sukuna), could possibly be considered cheating depending on your interpretation (not Sukuna), angst, smut, fluff, time skip, prison time, happy ending trust!

Day 3

You decide to continue cleaning out the gardens this morning, once again trying to get ahead of the midday heat. As you head towards the road, the morning chorus of birds in the trees bring a sort of serenity to the neighborhood…until you notice Sukuna’s yard looks anything but peaceful, wrecked once again. 

It’s not surprising considering how loud things were over there last night. It didn’t keep you up per se, but you definitely could hear the loud music and cars engines revving all night long. The man definitely did not seem to want to keep a low profile that’s for sure considering the neighborhood already had it out for him. Thank god for earplugs.

What is the point of cleaning up yesterday if he just trashed everything less than 3 hours later? 

You throw your earbuds in, get on your knees, and start pulling weeds. It’s tiring and uncomfortable, but you figure if you do a little at a time each day you’ll have something good to show for it by the time you leave. Attempting to try and decipher the ways of the immature, cute, bad boy across the street wasn’t something even your advanced schooling could help with.  

After some time, a shadow appears where you are working, blocking the sun temporarily.

“You’re up early tomato girl,” Sukuna’s playful voice sounds from behind you. 

“I could say the same thing. Seemed like you had a late night. Don’t you have stuff to do during the day?” you chide at him, taking out your earbuds and setting your weed pile to the side so you can turn around. 

He’s in shorts and a t-shirt with a backwards hat smothering his wild hair, red eyes hidden by a pair of shades. He’s smirking down at you and you notice he’s holding a pair of hedge clippers.

“Sweets, I’m a dealer with a suspended license, what do you expect me to be doing all day?” 

“I don’t know, counting pills. Counting money? How should I know?” you retort. 

“You’re cute for thinking that’s what I’d do all day,” he teases. 

You just roll your eyes in response, you honestly don’t care to know, it’s not something you want to know anything about at this point.

“I’m going to clean up some of these shrubs,” he gestures to some plants on the edges of the garden.

“Oh that’s not necessary-“

“I know it’s not, but I’m a grown adult who can make his own decisions. Also tired of these people who won’t get the fuck out my house, I’d rather be around someone I actually enjoy.” 

“Why do you have people over if you want them to leave early? Drugs and booze aren’t exactly conducive to people getting up and at ‘em in the morning,” you tease him as he starts working on a bush a few feet away.

“They’re my childhood friends, but they’re some degenerates who don’t do shit all day. They always promise they’ll be out by 8, but it never happens,” he sighs as he prunes his way around the shrubbery.

“Hey Kuna what’re you doing out here?” you hear a girl’s voice from the road. You look up and see two girls walking your way. They look pretty hungover, must have been some of the company from last night.

“I’m helping my neighbor with some yard work, are you all going to be leaving soon?” 

“Yeah, we were just about to go. Just wanted to see if we could buy something before we leave,” the other girl smiles at him. 

“Go ask Toji or one of the other guys, I’m busy,” he responds bluntly, not looking up from what he’s doing. 

They seem to take the hint and walk away, leaving you both alone again.

“Do you let girls sleep with you in lieu of paying?” you ask.

He bursts out laughing. 

“Fuck no, I’m actually pretty picky about who I’ll sleep with. Just never know their true intentions, especially because I’m weak for some good pillow talk. Haven’t been with anyone in a while now that I think of it since I got in trouble with the law again, maybe I’m paranoid of undercover shit or something.”  

You just nod in agreement, a surprisingly astute and mature response coming from him. It makes sense, but you’d expected him to be more free spirited and reckless. His pillow talk comment makes you internally laugh, you can totally see that being a thing, he’s so emotional and expressive after all. 

As you both continue working, your mind wanders back to your conversations with Cam last night. He’d ripped into you about Sukuna answering the phone while on your walk. 

He’d never let you have guy friends, so being around a random guy yesterday definitely set him off worse than usual. You did feel a little guilty about hanging around Sukuna, but it felt good at the same time, you enjoyed his company. With Cam not here, you had more freedom than you’ve had in ages, so you were keen to take advantage of it for a few days.

“Lemonade break?” you nudge his side as the heat starts to distract you.

“Yeah, fuckin’ brutal out here,” he runs his fingers through his hair.

You go retrieve some glasses and find Sukuna leaned back against the trunk of an old oak tree. You sit next to him, passing him an ice cold glass.

You both sit in silence, letting the cold liquid quench your dry throats, enjoying the soft breeze in your shady refuge. Sukuna’s hat is off, tufts of his pink hair dancing in the wind districting your gaze. 

“Do you think you’ll come back here after your grad school?” Sukuna asks once you’ve both cooled off.

“I haven’t decided yet. I love the area where my school is, but I do miss my family and friends here. Just harder to find a job ya know?” 

It was one of the reasons you’d moved away, to have a better opportunity at research opportunities and post graduate options for your chosen degree. 

“That’s valid,” he responds, stretching his long legs out on the grass in front of him. “Do you still have a lot of friends here?”

“I do, but a bunch of them got married pretty quick and already have a kid or two. Only a few of us are still childless,” you laugh. 

“Figures, seems to be the way things go around here. I remember my mom saying something about how no good girls will be left if I wait to settle down, but it seems like there’s still some goods around,” he turns his head to look at you, sunglasses pushed up on his head now.

“I like to think I’m pretty decent,” you laugh, averting your gaze as you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Better than the crew who I hang around,” he snorts.

“I mean that’s not saying much,” you joke with him.

“Oh please, you know what I meant,” he huffs.

“I could set you up with a decent single friend or two,” you nudge his side.

“Two? Shit, that’s just asking for trouble,” he picks at the grass between his legs, tossing it at you absentmindedly.

“They’re nurses, they’d take good care of you.”

“I’m sure they would. Maybe one day, tomato girl,” he laughs. 

“A gift for you,” he leans your way, presenting what looks like grass to you.

Except it’s not grass, it’s a four leaf clover. Some good luck in his future perhaps?

“You don’t wanna keep your luck?” you giggle, laying it in your palm so both of you can get a better look. 

“Eh, you might need it more, I’m already pretty lucky I live the life I do and haven’t gotten in more trouble.”

“I’ll cherish it forever,” you smile at him, leaning against his arm, the bark of the tree starting to hurt your back. 

You both watch as people slowly trickle out of Sukuna’s house, the line of cars parked on the side of the road disappearing after another hour. 

“You want some more vegetables?” you ask him.

“For meeeeee?” he gasps, giving you a fake surprised look.

“Yes you goof,” you laugh. 

“What’s your offer?”

“There’s some radishes and jalapeños over here,” you get up and point to some plants you had been weeding around.

“Well sure if you’re offering,” he smiles, navigating his way carefully through the garden and cutting a few of them off. 

“I’ve got some stuff to do, but would you wanna come eat dinner at my place tonight? I was gonna whip up some stuff with the tomatoes and I can go ahead and make some stuff with these too…you know as a thank you for sharing,” he says as a faint blush appears on his cheeks, spreading to his ears.

“Oh? Sure, why not. Want me to bring anything?” you respond, feeling a little flutter in your chest.

“Bring your favorite wine,” he grins at you. “I’m gonna start cooking at 5, feel free to come by anytime after then. Sounds good?”

“Um, yeah, that sounds great. Thank you,” you suddenly feel all flustered. It’s just dinner with your temporary neighbor.

In his house…but he can’t drive…so this makes sense right? 

What if Cam finds out? 

There’s no way.

You deserve this though. How many times has the man cheated on you and gaslit you into oblivion until you truly believed you were the reason for his infidelity and abusive actions, like no matter what you did it was never good enough?

You deserve to have one nice night with someone who is kind to you. Eating dinner with a friend is not wrong. Hell it’s not like you ever get to go out with your friends back home because of his controlling nature.

“If it’ll put you in a bind with…him, you don’t have to,” Sukuna’s voice jerks you from your thoughts as if sensing your inner turmoil.

“Huh? No, it’s fine. He cheats all the fucking time, god forbid I have dinner with a friend,” you retort, unsure if you are responding to him or trying convincing yourself. Probably both. 

Sukuna grimaces but quickly replaces it with his trademark smirk. 

“Great, I’ll see you later then,” he turns and walks back to his house. 

As you watch him walk away, your inner self is doing cartwheels in excitement. It’s almost like…

You like him. Crushing on the neighborhood delinquent with the mysterious red eyes and the fine ass tattoos adorning that shredded body. The kind hearted boy who’s captivated you in three short days. 

Nah, you can’t be. Like you said, it’s been three days, you hardly know him…right?

***

You were staring at yourself in the mirror, analyzing the third outfit you’ve tried on. It’s not like you brought that many clothes, but you want to look put together and like you put a little effort in!

You can’t even remember the last time you were giddy and excited for something, and that makes you sad, realizing just how shitty your relationship situation is back home, slowly bleeding the life out of you. 

You grab the wine bottle of choice, some popsicles for dessert, and lock up the house, leaving the light on in anticipation of coming back after dark. The walk across the street and up to Sukuna’s porch is over quickly, noticing for once his car seems to be the only one in the driveway. 

You knock on the door and wait, suddenly wondering what it’s going to look like on the inside. You figure it’ll either look like a frat house bachelor pad, or sleek and clean with nice furniture that could only be afforded with drug money.

You’ll soon find out as you hear heavy footsteps on the other side before the door opens up to Sukuna in an apron overtop of a t-shirt and shorts. It catches you off guard seeing him domestic like this, but it quickly fades as his excited smile greets you.

“So glad you came tomato girl, right this way,” he says, holding the door open for you. 

“Nice apron,” you tease as you place the bottle on the counter. The inside is leaning more towards sleek and sophisticated. Black kitchen table, black chairs, black living room furniture, black cabinets, some type of stone countertops, and so on. It’s not what you expected, but you can’t deny he has good taste.

“Tch, thanks. These tomatoes are really juicy and I was worried about getting them all over me,” he laughs, moving to the other side of the kitchen island to fiddle with some pots on the stove.

“So what’s for dinner chef?” you sit at one of his bar top stools across from him, scanning the area around you. Everything seems very neat and organized, you’d never suspect someone with a record lived here if you walked in without knowing him.

“My appetizer, if you will, is chips and pico de gallo. Made the chips myself, aaaaaaand, the pico features your jalapenos and tomatoes of course,” he pulls a bowl out of the stainless steel fridge and places it in front of you. Chips were already out on the counter.

“Wow you make your own chips?” 

“Damn straight, no bagged chips here,” he points his wooden spoon at you playfully. Something about this big strong man wielding a wooden spoon around in this animated way makes you giggle in amusement. Never a dull moment with him.

You take one, dip, and eat, the satisfying crunch loud in your ears. It’s so good, better than any other chip or salsa you’ve had lately.

“Soooo verdict?” Sukuna rests his elbows on the counter and stares at you with wide eyes, eagerly awaiting your response. His backwards baseball hat hides some of his unruly pink locks, giving him an almost frat boy aesthetic.

“Delicious! I’m impressed,” you say, emphasizing the warmth in your words, reaching for more.

“Sweet,” he mutters with a grin. “I know it doesn’t really go with the chips and pico, but I’ve got some homemade tomato sauce going that we’ll eat with meatballs and pasta. The theme of tonight's menu is tomatoes after all, regardless of the meal classification, so I think it fits,” his eyes twinkle with excitement. He seems proud of himself and it’s oddly heartwarming. 

Your mouth is watering because it all sounds and smells so good. This is the last thing you expected him to be doing, whipping up meals from scratch in the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” 

“Actually, yes. First pour us two glasses of your wine, and second, come stir this sauce for me, I need to cut this pasta up.”

“Homemade pasta too?” you gasp.

“Duh, you think I’d feed you inferior boxed pasta?” he smirks as he fishes a wine opener out of a drawer, uncorking the bottle and procuring two glasses. 

“I mean most of the time, men aren’t serving me anything except disappointment, so even boxed would be impressive,” you laugh. 

“Well you’re in for a treat then sweets,” he winks and passes you his spoon. He opts to pour out the wine and sets a glass next to where you are standing. 

Sukuna busies himself with pasta, meatballs, and even some garlic bread while you stir his sauce.

“That’s probably fine now,” he eventually reaches over you to lower the heat, his chest lightly pressing against your shoulder. He’s definitely got some height on you so you don’t even need to duck out of his way.

“Come with me,” he grabs your wrist and drags you towards the back door. Out on his deck you realize there is an abundance of fresh herbs in clay pots.

“You get the basil, I’ll get the parsley,” he instructs, showing you how to properly remove the leaves. 

All of this just keeps surprising you, it makes the butterflies form in your chest again. At this point they might as well just take up refuge there. 

How can you be falling for someone with a record? A drug dealer for god sake! It seems like it has bad idea written all over it. Plus he’s said himself, he doesn’t do long term stuff. 

“Hey!” Sukuna’s voice snaps you back to reality, “I asked if you need any help?”

“N-no, I’m good, I think I got enough,” you stutter, almost convinced he can hear your thoughts. 

“Yep looks good to me,” he answers after coming over to inspect your haul. 

Once back inside, it’s only a little while longer before Sukuna starts plating everything. You are about a glass and a half deep into the wine so you’ve settled at the kitchen table, eagerly awaiting the food.

“Eat up!” Sukuna exclaims as he sets the plates down, joining you at the table.

“Sukuna this looks amazing,” you smile, “thank you again, this was so nice of you.”

“But of course, anything for my neighbor,” he responds. 

“Cheers,” he holds out his wine glass which you gladly clink against with yours. Just as he’s about to take a bite, his phone rings. His playful demeanor instantly turns to one of annoyance.

“One moment,” he gets up and answers.

“What?” he barks into the phone. 

“You absolutely will not come over here, in fact, you can tell everyone that if anyone comes over here tonight I will put a fucking bullet in their leg, got it?” he says in a commanding tone which makes you jump. 

He tosses his phone on the counter and rejoins you.

“Sorry about that,” he sits down like it’s business as usual.

“You can just flip that side of you off and on at will huh?” 

“I have to. Makes it less likely that people will fuck with me,” he explains as he digs in, “it’s just a facade though, like I’d never talk to you that way…unless you wanted me to,” he says with a sly grin.

You practically choke on your food at the bold comment. Up until this point he hasn’t taken his flirty, carefree attitude in that direction, but it churns up some type of feeling deep inside of you that you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Easy there,” you laugh, kicking him lightly under the table. 

He just shrugs with amusement and takes a long sip of his wine. 

“So when people come over here, are they picking up or what?” you decide to probe at him, the wine making you braver.

“Sometimes. I don’t keep much product here. Mainly people come by to drop off cash or get assignments. I’ve got people who report to me who handle most everything lower level like deliveries and sales. I deal with more high level stuff: managing the finances, figuring out markups and pricing, and coordinating with the wholesalers. I am the boss after all,” he grins, twirling some pasta on his fork. 

“So what’s the plan when it inevitably all blows up?”

“Excuse me? Do what now?” he chuckles while hitting you with a questioning side eye.

“You heard me, I feel like this can only be successful for so long right?” you reiterate.

“Oh ye of little faith,” he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Well, I guess that would mean I’m either dead, or locked up.” 

“That’s pretty extreme. So there’s no backup plan?” 

“My parents’ inheritance I guess. I’d go back to college with it and get a degree in something I suppose,” he muses.

“What made you drop out?” 

“Honestly my grades were shit. I was in a frat and wasting my parents money partying and fucking off, so they stopped paying and I moved back here. Got involved with my old high school buddy, Toji, with this shit and well here I am, the fucking king.” 

“Interesting. I was just curious,” you set your utensils down, plate completely clean.

“How about you though,” his crimson eyes bore into yours intensely, piercing you so sharply it catches you off guard. 

“What happens when your situation blows up?” he continues.

“What are you referring to?” 

“Your loser boyfriend. The odds aren’t good for women in abusive relationships.”

“It’s not technically abu-“

“Ima stop you right there and call bullshit on that tomato girl. I’m speaking the truth and we both know it. So again, what happens when your situation goes south.”

Your mouth is completely dry, no one has ever spoken about it in this way. 

“I guess similar to you, I’m either dead or in jail,” you retort, causing him to smile with amusement.

“Clever. I like that. Hopefully it’s neither, or at least if you’re in jail it’s cuz he’s dead,” his eyes flick back up to yours. You stare into his gaze, lips partially open as you process everything.

“That sounds so morbid but it may or not be a possibility I’ve mulled over in my mind,” you add.

“Well if you need an accomplice, you have my number,” he laughs, taking your plate and his and dropping them in the sink before coming back to join you.

“What do you say, do you think I should leave this all behind? Start over?” he says in a low tone, swirling the wine around in the glass and watching the liquid slowly settle out. 

“It’s not my place to say Sukuna.”

“Would you like me more if I did?” 

You cock your head at him with intrigue, unsure of what he’s getting at.

“I’d like you just the same. I like you for you right now. That’s why I’m in your house.”

He sighs, tapping his fingers on the table, staring up and away from you both.

“Let’s say, hypothetically, I wanted to settle down with some lucky lady. You think I’d have to stop to have a chance at that?”

You pause, hanging onto his words before answering. Is the wine making him say this stuff? You both hadn’t drank that much…

“I’d say it depends on the lady. If I was going to get with someone like you, yes, I’d probably want you to leave that life,” you give him a playful smile, “but I’m sure there are women out there who’d be content to support you in this life and not expect you to change.”

“Hmm, maybe.”

“What about me though, should I leave the man who’s holding me back?” you challenge him.

“Tch, is that even a question?” he rolls his eyes, reaching to rest his hand on yours. Your heart is pounding, thrumming in your ears, making you almost shiver in anticipation. 

“It is, I asked you after all.”

“Then yes, you should.”

“Would you like me more if I did?”

God is it the wine making you say this stuff? 

Sukuna arches an eyebrow in a wordless response, his gaze slowly moving to meet yours before shifting down to your lips and darting back up again.

“Whether you’re with him or not has no bearing on me doing this right now.”

In the moment it takes for your ears to convey his words to your brain, he kisses you. Your eyes widen in surprise, it must have happened in seconds. He’s standing up now, one hand on the table, the other gripping your chin and tipping it up while his soft lips envelop yours. 

The butterflies you’ve become painfully aware of the last few days ricochet around your insides like fireworks in the night sky as you lean in and kiss him back. It doesn’t stop there though, he’s pulling your chair out, cradling you against his chest while you cling to him, lips still locked as he moves towards his living room. 

He falls back into the couch, positioning you so you are straddling him. 

“Sukuna I-“

“Shhh, don’t talk, not right now,” his voice deepens, observing you through lidded eyes. 

And then his large, strong hands are in your hair, gripping your cheek and the back of your head as he pulls you into another kiss.

His lips crash against yours. It’s consuming, claiming, completely losing yourself in him as you force your tongue into his mouth. Sukuna groans against you, meeting you halfway, his soft tongue dominating yours as he deepens the kiss. Your noses brush against each other clumsily as you familiarize yourselves with the other’s movements. 

You feel almost out of practice, you can’t recall the last time Cam kissed you like this. His style was moreso fuck with the most minimal amount of foreplay, and even that was a generous word to describe it. If you do suck at this, Sukuna appears to have no qualms by the way his arms are wrapping around your back, pulling you against him, and devouring the shared air between you.

Your hands find his hair, dragging his hat off so you can thread your fingers through his soft strands. The scent of his shampoo wafts into your nose as you ravenously kiss him back. You shift yourself, groaning as you feel his hard bulge pressing against your groin, catching your clit even through the extra layers. 

“Fuuuck,” he moans into your mouth, starting to nip at your lower lip as his hands wander down to your ass, rolling his hips up to meet yours.

You haven’t felt this alive in literal years, so drunk off the way he nibbles and sucks at your neck while you grind yourself against him. You can feel yourself soaking through your panties, hoping he can’t feel it through his shorts. 

“Lemme go get a condom,” Sukuna whispers, his breath hot on your neck, eliciting a sharp whine from you as the image of what’s to come infiltrates your mind.

Wait, a condom? For sex? He wants to fuck you, god know you wanna fuck him too right now.

But you have a boyfriend, what are you even doing? Acting like a whore? Cam will be furious, you’ll be in trouble-

You start to panic, pushing yourself back from him abruptly.

“What are you doing? You know I have a boyfriend!” your voice cracks as he quickly removes his hands from you, leaning back into the couch to give you the space you were wanting.

“That piece of shit doesn’t deserve that honor,” Sukuna growls in response, his eyes flaring up in irritation.

“You’re taking advantage of me while I’m away from him, you’ve been putting these bad thoughts about him in my head this whole time. You’re no better than him. A criminal, a bad person,” you start to ramble on, freaking out at the thought of the fallout. If he found out.

Sukuna’s eyes flash with pain, your hurtful words piercing through his heart. 

“Right…,” he finally utters, averting your gaze and biting his bottom lip in discomfort. 

“I’m leaving before you turn me into more of a slut than I already am,” you push off of him, leaving him alone on the couch.

“You’re not being a slut! You’re allowed to be treated with fucking respect by someone,” Sukuna retorts, standing up as he follows you to the front door. 

You whip your head around to face him, hand on the doorknob.

“I’m a cheater, no better than him.”

“Is it really cheating when the person who’s supposed to love and respect you is constantly unfaithful and could even be doing so right now? You say it yourself, you don’t even know if you’re exclusive or not. Please, let me show you what a decent man can do, how you should be treated,” his eyes are so full of raw emotion, his hand pushing on the door next to you, partially caging you against it, but still allowing the option to leave. 

You look away from him, tears in your eyes. Everything is so confusing right now, the desperation on his face, the longing for him in your heart, the fear of Cam. It’s all just too much and you need to get away from all of it right now.

You pull the door open, and Sukuna doesn’t stop you.

“Good night Sukuna,” you stutter as you open the screen door, hearing it slam behind you. You move quickly to your parents house, never looking back towards Sukuna, unaware of the way he watches you leave full of hurt and confusion.

For the first time in his adult life, he was considering giving it all up. 

All of this. 

For you. 

The desire to be a better man, the man you never had, the man you deserved, was coursing through his veins. He thought you had felt the same way, what else could you have possibly meant by those questions? It felt like you’d kissed him with such passion and desire, how did this end with him staring at your back as you walked away from him?

Had he read the whole situation this badly? 

No, you had wanted this just as much as him. You break down with the realization as soon as you get inside, back sliding down against the door as you erupt into a sob on the floor. What’s wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just have an ounce of self esteem and break things off for good, let yourself be taken care of by a good man, one who’s been nothing but kind and helpful since you met him. 

You both go to sleep that night thinking of the other, of the night that could have been yours together. 

Day 4

It’s a little harder to get out of bed today. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, yet here you were festering in your own gloomy thoughts. The only thing forcing you up was that the pets needed taking care of, it’s not like they did anything wrong in all of this.

The humidity is through the roof this morning, probably the worst it’s been since you got here. Normally that combined with a bluebird day means thunderstorms in the afternoon, so you decide to walk Macy in the morning to try and get ahead of it. 

You glance across the street towards Sukuna’s house. No extra cars were around and all the shades were still drawn. Based on the last few days, you’d have expected to see him at some point in the morning, but with what happened last night? No shot. That was probably the last of your interactions with him. 

As you continue your walk, you can’t help but feel guilty about everything. You’d felt scared, even terrified at the thought of hooking up with him even though you’d wanted to with every fiber of your being. The irrational fear of Cam finding out and you reaping the consequences had clouded your judgement. 

“Has he hurt you?” you recall Sukuna asking.

Yeah, he has. Your mind wanders to a dark place, recalling the most recent time he was physical with you. You’d gone out with your grad school classmates for beers one night, which in and of itself caused a blowout fight because three of them were guys. Guys with long term girlfriends and fiancés you had tried to remind him, but he wasn’t having it.

The night had ended with you and two of your male classmates being the last of your group after others had left. There was nothing remotely sketchy or inappropriate going on, just friends talking about life and plans after school. Cam however had decided to take matters into his own hands and show up unannounced, furiously locking eyes with you from across the room as the two guys sat across from you.

Things only got worse for you as he made a scene in front of everyone and practically dragged you out of the bar and into the alley, both of you yelling at each other. The fight only ended when he backhanded you across the face, accusing you of being disrespectful and using his favorite line: “and you wonder why I go looking elsewhere when you constantly act like this.” 

This. Merely existing and trying to defend yourself.

This behavior had instilled a crippling fear and anxiety of never truly knowing where he would show up. You wouldn’t put it past him to find you here. Your hometown is your one safe haven, hence why your location sharing has been off. But you can’t wipe the events of that night from your mind, no matter how hard you try.

You take a left down another road that ends with access to a creek, a place you’d loved playing growing up.

Would Sukuna even understand if you explained all this to him? It shouldn’t be his burden to bear, he probably is just looking for a fun fling, not a girl with baggage as far as the eye could see. Hell you wish you could just have a fun, no string attached night, but the devil on your shoulder can’t just let you be at peace.

You sit down in the grass and let Macy off the leash to play in the water. She loves swimming, and seeing her frolic around in the stream makes you happy for a change. Oh to be a dog just doing what you love, no romantic relationships in sight. You pull a tennis ball out of your bag and toss it into the water, watching Macy swim out to it before bringing it back. 

You repeat these motions until she’s had enough, scampering over to you and falling onto her side, panting in the heat. 

“Tired you out huh girl?” you laugh as you ruffle the damp fur on her neck. You both rest for a while longer before you begin your trek back to the house. Sukuna’s house is still devoid of activity as you head back down the driveway.

You give Macy a quick rinse off outside to get the mud and dirt off of her before letting her back in and preparing some lunch.

Turning on the TV after eating, you decide to have a wallow at home kind of afternoon given your mood. You’ll just binge something and gorge yourself on comfort snacks. 

Macy starts whining to go out after about two hours, so you get up to let her out in the yard. As you lay back down, sleepiness suddenly hits you and you drift off on the couch.

BOOM!

You are jolted awake by a loud noise, scaring the shit out of you. You look outside and notice dark grey clouds covering the sky. 

Great, the afternoon storms you’d predicted have come to fruition. The wind is gusting and rain begins to pitter patter on the roof as another roar of thunder shakes the house.

You know Macy is scared of storms, so you call out to her, trying to find her inside. After checking all her usual hiding spots, you are puzzled that she’s nowhere to be found.

Oh my god. 

You remember now, you let her out and then fell asleep!

You throw on your sneakers as quickly as you can, charging out into the yard as another round of thunder makes you cringe away from the sky.

How could you be so fucking irresponsible! 

Panicking, you run around to the back, hoping by some miracle that she’s there. You are only greeted by the wet deluge that pours down on you as the sky opens up, the fat raindrops splattering onto your bare skin almost mocking you at this point.

This is so bad.

You run up towards the street, frantically calling out to her, your voice completely drowned out by the rain, wind, and thunderclaps that have your ears ringing at this point.

After traversing one end of the street, despair starts to sink in. You are freezing, drenched from head to toe, not even knowing where your tears begin and the raindrops end as rain cascades down your face. As you come back towards the house, you see Sukuna’s out of the corner of your eye.

Maybe he’ll help you.

You literally have nothing to lose, so you bound towards his front door, happy to escape the rain under his front porch.

You bang on the door loudly.

“Sukuna! Sukuna it’s me, can you help me!” you yell over the storm, doubting he can even hear you and if he could, if he’d even want to be in your presence. He has no reason to talk to you again.

To your surprise, the front door opens and you are met with the moody version of the fun loving guy you’ve hung out with the last few days. His face quickly morphs into one of concern, opening the door and coming out to join you.

“Jesus what are you doing out here?” he inspects you, brushing water off of your face and arms.

“It’s Macy, I need your help. I accidentally left her out and then the storm started. She’s terrified of them and I think she’s run off,” you are fighting back tears, voice shaking with fear and likely from the chills that are currently wracking your body as the wind slams into your drenched body.. 

“Of course, lemme put some shoes on,” he responds without missing a beat, disappearing momentarily before coming back outside with a raincoat.

“Go back to your house, let me look for her,” he says gruffly, tucking you under his raincoat, arm slipping around your waist and guiding you out into the yard. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, listen to me please, it’s not safe to be out in this,” he says seriously as lightning streaks across the sky. 

“Gimme your car keys, I’m gonna take your dad’s car.”

“What about your license?”

“Hence why I’m taking the other car, no one will know it’s me,” he scoffs, obviously getting annoyed being out in the rain. 

You unclip your house key from the car key, giving it to him. You stand glued in place, staring at him as if paralyzed on what to do next. 

“Go the fuck on inside!” Sukuna has no patience at this point, dragging you to the front stoop and shoving you towards the door.

Time seems to pass at a sluggish pace as you wait. Five minutes turns to ten and before you know it, thirty minutes have gone by with no sign of the storm letting up. 

You almost go to call Sukuna when you see headlights coming down the driveway. Jumping up, you move to open the front door and almost collapse in relief as you see Sukuna carrying a sopping wet Macy in his arms. 

You rush upstairs to get some towels in preparation for the soaking wet mess that is about to come through those doors. You hold the door open for Sukuna to squeeze by you, standing on the doormat, water running down his legs and soaking the rug.

His pink hair looks darker now and completely is plastered to his face, eyes barely perceptible from being hidden by his wet strands.

“Oh my god, you found her! Are you ok?” you dab the towel at his face, wiping his eyes and cheeks before getting his neck and arms.

“As good as I can be,” he mutters, leaning down so you can towel off his hair. 

“Let’s get this mutt to the bathtub and dry her off,” he says. You untie his shoes and help him kick them off before leading everyone to the bathroom.

Not long after, Macy is as dry as she can be and trots off to hide under the kitchen table, tired from her little adventure.

“Thank you so much Sukuna, I-I don’t know how I can ever repay you. That was so selfless. Truly, thank you again,” you look up at him as he heads back towards the front door.

“Don’t mention it, what kind of man would I be to let a girl run around in the rain by herself. I’m gonna go now, stay dry tomato girl,” he ruffles your hair before disappearing out into the storm.

As you watch him walk away, your heart drops into your stomach. He went out in the fucking storm for a girl who hurled all kinds of accusations at him just the night before. Such an unselfish act, putting you first when he had no reason to.

You wish he’d stop, wish he’d turn around and come back. You want him to stay. Your heart burns with the need to be with him, be close to him, to apologize for everything and explain yourself. Hanging out together meant more than you realized judging by the pang of emptiness you felt as the day dragged on without him, like a part of your routine was missing.

A second chance. It’s now or never, seeing how he’s almost halfway up the driveway.

Your legs move before your brain can even send the command. You rush up the driveway, the pavement slick beneath your feet, lightning flashing in your peripheral as thunder reverberates around you. You reach for his arm, fingers slipping on his rain-slicked skin, but you do enough to get his attention as he turns around in shock.

“Get back inside! Are you purposely trying to drown yourself today!” he enunciates loudly over the storm, irritation plastered across his face.

“Come back, come back please,” you throw your arms around him, pressing yourself into his chest, your cheek plastered against the drenched fabric of his shirt. 

You stare desperately up into his face, the lightning illuminating his crimson eyes. Eyes that look troubled, as if trying to decipher your intent, trying to decide if you mean this or if you are just going to rip the rug out from under him again. 

The rain drips down his pink bangs and onto your cheeks as he looks down on you, seeming to study every part of your face.

“You know I want to,” he mutters, voice deep against your ear, “don’t do this to me if you don’t really mean it.”

“I want you Sukuna. Please, let me try again. I’ll explain, just come back inside,” you choke out, fingers twisting into the waterlogged fabric of his shirt.

In response, his lips find yours, enveloping you in a calm reprieve as the storm rages around you both. Nothing else matters, just his arms around you as you convey the desperation that exists for each other. Each brush of your noses dislodges the rain from his lashes and hair, showering you with droplets warm from his body heat. 

He picks you up, hooking your legs around his waist and intensifying his movements. He forces his tongue into your mouth, clashing with yours, exploring the softness of your cheeks and following the ridges of your gums. 

He strides back towards the house, devouring you, lips welded to yours as the wind blown rain pelts both of you.

The cold air indoors sends shivers down your skin as he opens the door, all your senses suddenly present again as the walls shut out sounds of the chaos outside.

“Where,” he groans against your lips, water dripping from both of your clothes and pattering against the hardwood floor.

“Downstairs, guest room,” you utter against his lips, fingers digging into his jaw tattoos as if clinging to him to shelter you from the storm in more ways than one.

Sukuna wastes no time traversing the staircase, kicking the bedroom door shut behind him and pressing you up against the wall, both of you groping and grabbing, tearing the wet shirts off of each other and letting them drop to the floor.

You both pause, his forehead pressed against yours, chests heaving from a combination of your passionate kissing and the chill air that suddenly hits your damp skin.

“I’m freezing,” you giggle, causing him to snort in amusement. You trace his chest tattoos with your finger, feeling the hard muscle beneath you.

“Yeah why don’t we dry off and warm up,” he plants a soft kiss on your cheek as he moves you both over to the fireplace on the other side of the room, setting you down gently on the carpeted floor.

You turn on the propane fireplace while he grabs some towels out of the attached bathroom, joining you in front of the heat.

You’re down to a sports bra and shorts, feeling a little self conscious at being so exposed, but the heat of the fire radiating against your bare skin is a welcome relief. 

Sukuna peels his shorts off so he’s just in his boxers and you take one of the towels and start to dry him off, working from his upper shoulders and down his back. You chase the small rivulets of water that’d collected in the dips and valleys of his back muscles, tracing the ink that follows a similar path. You move to each leg, encountering tattooed rings around his thighs that make your breath hitch, before turning him around to get his front side. 

You end up taking your sweet time as if memorizing the ridges of his chest and abs as you drag the towel down towards his waistband. 

He sits down on the floor, giving you easier access to towel dry his hair. You can’t deny that he looks cute with his pink locks hanging down in his eyes, but he’s soon running his fingers through his hair to give it his slicked back appearance again.

He in turn does the same for you, sliding your shorts off so you are down to your bra and panties, respectfully drying you from head to toe, not missing how his eyes burn a trail down your skin as they rove over every exposed inch like a spotlight in the dark.

Finally, he launches the towels at the wall, leaning forward to kiss you again as the fire illuminates the room, crackling flames dancing in the reds of his eyes. 

“I’m sorry Sukuna,” you say as you both pull away. His mouth twitches, eyes flicking towards the floor before looking back, willing you to continue.

“Last night, those things I said, you aren’t a bad man, you aren’t a criminal, you weren’t doing anything wrong. I wanted everything you were giving me, I was just…I just got scared. I panicked,” you say quietly, staring into the flames.

He takes your hand in his, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles in a comforting pattern.

“Cam, he has a history of showing up where I am unannounced and giving me hell for it. I don’t know, I just had the thought of him finding me, finding us-“

“I know I asked you this once before, but has he hurt you? Like beyond just words?” Sukuna interrupts you. 

You slowly nod your head, looking down in shame, feeling the tears start to build up behind your eyes.

Sukuna tips your chin up, sorrow in his gaze, caressing your cheeks as his thumbs catching the  damp streaks that inevitably form.

“It pains me to hear that, truly. You know you don’t deserve it right? It’s never justified, and it’s never, ever, your fault,” he says softly, pressing gentle kisses into your forehead. 

“I’m sorry too. I came on really strong, and I should have been more attuned to your feelings, knowing the things you’ve been through. Even if he did show up right now, I wouldn’t let him hurt you, wouldn’t let him lay a finger anywhere near you. You’re safe here with me. I promise.” 

“I know,” your lip trembles as you absorb his words, basking in their meaning. They are more heartfelt than Cam has ever given you, coming from a man you’ve known for such a brief time, even though in this moment it feels like you’ve known him forever. He’s someone you could predict, you can anticipate how he would react to things. Harming you was not a possibility.

“Why me though? You deserve to be with someone without all this baggage, wouldn’t it be easier to just have some fun with a woman that you don’t need to tread lightly around wounds that you never caused?” 

He takes your hands in his, watching how your fingers tangle with his before looking back up at you.

“And I don’t have baggage? I’ve been arrested three times now, move drugs for a living, and have a rap sheet longer than some people’s obituaries. Don’t paint me like I’m a saint, that opioid crisis they are always spouting off about? I make money off of it, people overdose and die because of what I do, what I provide them. The only difference is my baggage is self-inflicted while you never asked for yours.”

“We both can’t change what’s happened in the past, but we can change things for the future, we can help make each other better. Look, I-I know I’ve only known you for what, four days? Which seems like nothing, not even a corporate work week, but you’ve completely turned my life upside down. I know it probably sounds like I’m talking nonsense, but you’ve made me want to change everything, give all this up, and be a better man. 

And those four days, I want them to become 8, then 16, 32, 64 and continue doubling indefinitely into some number that I don’t even fucking know the name of, until I can’t even remember how it all began, just that it began and will end with you.” 

You swear you stop breathing, the air trapped in your lungs threatening to burst. Sukuna, the man you didn’t know you were looking for, found you on the same street where you started your life’s journey having grown up just 10 miles away from each other. Always so close, but never knowing it, you’d been like satellites in each other’s orbit, never finding each other until you needed each other the most. Two broken souls, using shattered pieces from the other to fill the gaps, forever binding yourselves together. 

“Sukuna,” you take a long pause, “I think I love you,” your voice quivers with fear as you utter such vulnerable words.

“And I know I love you.” he hits you with that boyish grin as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before giving you a loving kiss, a kiss that has both of you grinning into each other's mouths, giddy with the excitement of what’s to come.

“I want to continue where we left off last night,” you whisper as you trail soft kisses down his tattooed jaw, earning a soft moan from his throat.

“I’ll follow your lead, go at your own pace,” he sighs as you move to his neck, licking and sucking at his skin, taking your time getting attuned to everything about him.

It’s different being with someone you trust. Normally you’d rush into the main event, hoping to get it over with so you could get away from Cam. Emotionless sex to try and buy his favor for another few hours at best.

But now, you are at peace to just reclaim moments like these, feeling safe enough to actually take the time to appreciate every facet of Sukuna’s body and showing him how much you appreciate him.

You guide him to his back, the flickering flames still providing much needed warmth as your hot kisses make their way to his collarbone. 

“Is this too slow?” you pause, worried you’re taking too long.

“Not at all, love it,” he responds with reassurance.

You continue your exploration of his body, tongue gliding through the ridges and valleys of his muscular physique until you reach the waistband of his boxers that look like they are about to burst from the bulge in their confines. You lightly stroke him through the fabric, earning a sharp groan from Sukuna as his erection twitches under you.

He feels fucking massive, but you’re determined to find out just how large as you coax him to lift his hips. Sliding them off, his hardened length comes into view and springs back against his abs. 

“Holy shit Sukuna,” you giggle in surprise. That’s going to…take some work.

“What?” he grins, palming himself as he sits up to look at you. 

“You know what,” you brush his hand away so you can take over.

“I knowwww, I’ll help you though if you decide you wanna go that route,” he exhales as you wrap your fingers around his thick shaft, slowly pumping his length.

“I do very much want to go that route,” you whisper in his ear as you pump his cock faster, thumb running over his defined head and dragging precum along his skin to help you glide more easily.

“Fuuuuuck,” he moans, throbbing in your hand as you grip him tighter, loving how vocal he is with each stroke of his cock.

“You’re gonna have to stop if that’s what you wanna do,” he teases, looking up at you through lust filled eyes, reaching out to grab your wrist reluctantly. 

You giggle as disappointment shows on his features when you stop gripping him. 

He strips you of your remaining layers, both of you now completely bare to the other. Picking you up, he moves you to the bed, laying your head down gently on the pillows as he sits back to admire you.

“So fucking perfect,” he sighs as he runs a hand from your neck down to cup your breast, thumb rolling your nipple until it hardens under his touch. He returns the favor to you, kissing and nipping all over every inch of your body, as if mapping it out and committing it to memory. 

“Sukunaaaa,” you say his name between breathless moans as his tongue rolls your nipple in his mouth, the other being worked by his skilled hands. Your hands are in his hair, nails digging into his scalp as he continues his ministrations. 

“Can I eat you out?” 

“Holy fuck yes,” you answer quickly. Considering how fucking good his tongue felt on your body, you could only dream of how it would feel against your soaked core.

You didn’t have to wait long because seconds later his head is between your legs, hair tickling your inner thighs. He’s licking long stripes from your entrance to your clit, already making your hips buck in anticipation.

“You’re sooooo wet already,” he murmurs against your cunt, lapping up everything he can before he dives in for more.

“So-sorry, just, haven’t had this in ages,” you stutter, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden.

“Fuck, don’t apologize. Also what a sorry excuse for a man to not go down on you,” he grumbles before he starts devouring you.

It’s so messy, so sloppy, the wet, lewd sounds almost echoing off the wall with the way he plunges his tongue into your cunt. His nose brushes against your clit, making you cry out from sheer bliss at the way he’s practically worshiping your pussy, making you feel so fucking good. You can’t look away, his blown out eyes locked onto yours, watching and observing your every reaction. You feel like you might actually rip his hair out with how hard you’re digging in, but he doesn’t seem to mind, doubling down on his efforts every time you rake your nails through his scalp. 

All his attention moves to your clit, alternating between swirling it with his warm tongue and flicking against it in a way you didn’t even know you needed. You grind yourself against him, seeking even more of that perfect friction. 

Maybe you’re extra sensitive because your loser boyfriend never attempts to make you finish, but you feel the orgasm fast approaching and you have no desire to slow it. 

“Sukuna, keep going, I’m close Sukunaaaa,” you whine, losing yourself in the moment. Each perfect drag of his tongue pushes you closer to the edge, a feeling you haven’t felt in god knows how long. 

One last flick from his skilled tongue is your undoing as the orgasm tears through you, crying his name over and over as your hips buck wildly against his face. Sukuna holds you in place when you try to push off, seeing to it that his mouth never leaves your clit as each hot wave of pleasure rolls over you, making you see stars, remembering nothing but the way his name leaves your lips.

He kisses your core one final time before he moves up to kiss your lips. You feel like dead weight, relishing in the post orgasmic bliss as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

“Damnnn you taste so fucking good,” he smirks, sitting back up, cheeks glistening with your arousal, even covering part of his chin tattoos.

“Ummm I can get used to all of that, that felt fucking amazing,” you sigh, staring up into his darkened eyes. 

“You’ll never go without again,” he grins.

“I’ve got condoms in my toiletry bag over there,” you point to the bag on the dresser.

“Don’t needa tell me twice,” he leaps up, tearing the bag open which has you giggling in amusement at his eagerness. 

“Damn girl,” he holds up the roll of four condoms, letting them dangle from his hand. His naked, muscular body looks fucking divine as the light from the fire flickers against his skin in the dim light.

“I know it seems like a lot, they’re just leftover from buying some while trav-“

“Nooooo, seems like not enough considering you are here for five more days,” he gives you that boyish grin, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. The idea of having sex with him four times makes your pussy clench with excitement.

“Might not even be enough for tonight.”

“Sukuna!”

“Relaaaax, I’m joking, sort of.” 

He tears one off and puts the corner in his mouth, quickly rejoining you. As he lays back down next to you, his hand slides up your inner thigh, knuckles brushing against your entrance.

“I said I’d help you,” he mutters through the foil as he slowly pushes a finger into your soaking cunt. It’s sooooo deep, deeper than you could ever reach. 

He works a second one in, gently thrusting in and out, feeling the stretch transition to pleasure with each drag of his digits against your walls. You groan as he curls his finger to prod at your spongy sweet spot, stopping to stroke it a few times.

“That’s it huh?” he gives you a toothy smile, eyes almost rolling when you clench around him.

“Fuck I need to feel that on my cock,” he gasps, quickly pulling out and tearing the packet open with his teeth. He slides it on with no hesitation, nudging his way between your legs.

You feel his tip at your entrance for just a moment as your eyes lock one more time. You give him a small nod and with that, he thrusts his hips forwards, easing his way inside. You both gasp, you at the sudden stretch and him at the feeling of your velvety walls clinging to his tip.

“Hold onto me,” he utters, waiting until you grip his shoulders before starting to work you open with short slow thrusts, letting you adjust as he sinks deeper and deeper. Now you understand his request because your nails digging into his skin is the only thing to counteract the intense, full feeling his thick cock gives you. 

“Fuckkkk baby you’re so goddamn tight,” Sukuna groans as he finally bottoms out, giving you a deep kiss as he pulls all the way out and slowly thrusts back in. You swear you can feel each vein on his shaft through the fucking condom dragging against your walls with how snug of a fit he is.

“I don’t know if I’m tight, you’re just so fucking big,” you chuckle against his lips.

“Ummm, you’re tight, trust me on that sweets, I think I’ve been in more pussies than you,” he jokes back at you while giving you slow, deep strokes.

“And I think you’re big, I’ve had more dicks ins-“ 

“Okay I believe you!” he shoves his hand over your mouth and you both erupt into a fit of giggles.

Sex with Sukuna just feels fun. Playful even, just like his general personality. There’s no pressure to perform a certain way, all the self consciousness you were feeling earlier just melts away, as you both take everything in stride and enjoy getting used to and learning about one another. 

After a few more slow thrusts, you beg him to go faster which he happily obliges, angling himself towards your sweet spot which has you moaning his name.

“Kunaaaaa yes! Just like that,” you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders as his cock head kisses you in just the right place over and over.

“Yeah? Right here?” he grunts, speeding up his movements even more, causing your eyes to roll. He hooks your leg behind his waist, plunging himself even deeper into your tight cunt as he drives you harder into the mattress. 

You forgot how good sex could feel, sure the physical was good in its own way, but the emotional security while doing it with someone you care for is unmatched.

You’re truly able to let yourself go and get lost in the other person, forgetting about everything except for each other. That’s how it was with Sukuna right now, trusting him to give you what you need and being open to you telling him what you want.

“Can I be on top?” you whisper in his ear.

“Fuck yeah, get on girl,” he nips at your neck before pulling out, propping himself up on the pillows.

You wanted to feel in control and selfish for your own pleasure for a change, and Sukuna was the kind of man to let you have that. Not like he cared either way, you looked fucking great riding his cock, his eyes glued to the way your tits were bouncing in his face while you angled yourself in just the way you needed.

“That’s it baby, fuckin’ use it, use me,” his hands rest on your hips, letting you be in control while his strong arms help to steady you, the perfect team player. 

“Can you take the condom off?” you whine, wanting to feel all of him.

“Huhhh? Really?” his eyes widen and you swear you feel him throb inside of you.

“Yeah, I’m on birth control,” you slow down and roll your hips a few times while waiting for his response. 

“Shit I’m probably gonna bust in two seconds, but fuck it, I’m willing to take that chance to feel all of you, raw and gripping me like that,” he says, lifting you up, pulling the condom off, and tossing it on the floor.

You realign yourself and take him to the hilt in one go.

“Holy shit! Fuck! Ah-shit,” he hisses, head falling back hard against the headboard with a thud, eyes rolling up to stare at the ceiling.

“Oh god are you ok?” you snort at his dramatic response. 

“Maybe, I don’t fuckin’ know, but god fuckin’ move baby,” his eyes are locked onto where you are both connected, mind only focused on one thing. He feels too damn good, his perfect cock gliding through your walls, tip just kissing your cervix as you start to feel the pool of desire within you heating up again.

You become needier, bouncing faster, angling yourself so that his fat tip hits your sweet spot, feeling yourself gushing from the impending climax. Sukuna looks like he’s barely holding on, focusing so hard on…something, probably something strange to keep his composure. His fingers are gripping you so hard, likely leaving marks on your skin.

“I’m gonna cum, help me,” you whine just as the orgasm consumes your movements and you clench around him with no control. Sukuna, being such an attentive partner, takes over thrusting into you from below, letting you ride out the high as your vision goes white from the hot waves of pleasure convulsing throughout your body.

“Fuck oh my god you’re so fucking perfect,” he growls, staring up at you with awe as you start to collapse against him, catching you with his strong arms.

“It’s a miracle I lasted through that,” he chuckles as he starts to roll you both back over, locking your legs around his waist as he slowly starts to rock into you again.

“Do you really love me?” you say softly, staring up into his eyes.

“You know I do,” he groans, his rhythm starting to get sloppy.

“Mmm, I love you too Sukuna,” you sigh, feeling him throb inside of you.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum, where do you wannit?” he utters through gritted teeth.

“Inside.”

“Shit.”

“Fucking deep inside Kuna, want you to fill me up,” you moan, rocking your hips against his.

“Goddamn girl, gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he groans and with one last impossibly deep thrust, he unleashes his hot load, hips stuttering as he pumps thick ropes of cum into your pussy. 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck as his body finally begins to still, his hair tickling your skin as you cling to him, melding both of your bodies together. Your chests heave against each other as you catch your breaths, Sukuna’s large body pinning you beneath him. 

“Thaaaaat, was fucking awesome,” he finally exclaims, moving to lay at your side, pulling you snug against his chest.

“You have no idea,” you sigh with contentment, snuggling up to his warm body. 

You doze off and on while pressed up against him, his heartbeat thrumming against your cheek and his fingers tracing lazy circles on your upper arm. 

“Sorry I fell asleep on you,” you give him a sheepish smile as you sit up, turning to look at him.

“Tch, l just came inside you and you’re concerned that you fell asleep on me?” he teases, eyes lighting up. He looks genuinely happy and it makes your worries wash away.

“Shut up! Just…didn’t know how you’d be acting after all that.”

“I personally adore knowing I fucked you so good you passed out,” he grins, pulling you on top of his broad chest.

“I guess you did huh, body isn’t used to it I suppose,” you say as you rest your chin on his pecs.

“Hmm, that’s okay, thought it was cute having you fall asleep on me. You’re welcome to anytime,” he replies, his warm words making you want to bury yourself in his chest again.

“Oh I ordered a pizza while you were asleep, it should be here soon,” Sukuna says.

“Thank god!” you are starving and haven't even thought about dinner.

The doorbell rings and Sukuna gets up to grab you a fresh towel to clean up with.

“I’m sorry I should have done this earlier, I can come back to help you clean up,” he says as he searches the floor for his shorts.

“You’re fine, I’ll be up in a bit,” you wave him off, but appreciate the concern.

You clean up briefly and then pull on some sweats and a hoodie, trudging upstairs to join him. You realize you are pretty fucking sore right now, legs feeling a little shakey as you climb the stairs.

The storm must have stopped while you were both downstairs, the last traces of daylight rapidly fading into night as you peek out the window. Sukuna is in the kitchen getting plates and also a glass of water for you. He gives you a drive by peck on the lips before sitting down next to you.

“So what’s the plan,” Sukuna blurts out as he tends to do, he really has zero filter when it comes to saying what’s on his mind.

“What plan?” 

“The plan for you and me.”

“Well I don’t know the plan, but we can make one together,” you chuckle, “what’s at the top of your list?”

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he says bluntly, taking a big bite of pizza while you almost choke on yours. 

“Damn okay tomato girl, don’t puke all over yourself in disgust at the thought,” he teases while you slap his arm, trying to regain your composure. 

“No! It just surprised me is all. Can you do a long distance relationship? I still have another year for my masters at least.”

“You’re worth waiting for. We can video call and shit too, and I’ll come visit you.”

“AND, while you are in school, I can go back to school too. Maybe we can be done close to the same time,” he adds. 

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah, been thinking about it since yesterday.”

“What do you think you’d want to go for?” 

“Probably something with car maintenance and repair. Actually seems to pay pretty well for the area and I already know a lot about working on them. I thought I could finish my business degree and do the apprenticeship at the same time. There’s so many online degree choices now, I should be able to make both work. God knows I have enough money.” 

“I think that is a great idea,” you respond, getting butterflies thinking about the future together. “My parents are going to be in for a shock.”

“Ha, yeah they are. They’re usually alright with me though, hopefully they’ll come around after hearing our plans. No way I’m worse than Cam. Which by the way, you technically have two boyfriends right now, playa,” he winks at you, making you snort in response. 

“I haven’t technically said yes to you yet,” you tease as you pinch his tattooed cheek, “and yes, I will be your girlfriend Sukuna. I’ll also send Cam a breakup text after eating then block him.” 

“Good, I don’t like being the other man.”

“Popsicle?” you ask, getting up to raid the freezer.

“Yes ma’am!”

One popsicle later, Sukuna has whisked you back downstairs and has his head between your legs again, eating the “real dessert” as he called it. He stops to let you send your breakup text, saying he wouldn’t let you cum until you were only his, but after that, the man is all over you until the early morning hours when you finally tap out, unable to keep your eyes open anymore.

Day 5

You awaken the next morning to Sukuna’s arms wrapped around your body and legs tangled in yours. It must be late considering the way the sun is beaming through the window. 

You groan with discomfort, your whole body feels sore and you are absolutely famished. 

“Sukuna,” you say sleepily, shaking him.

“Hmm? What?” he responds in a sleep raspy voice, sitting up and shoving his hair out of his eyes. 

“So hungry.”

“Lemme go get us some donuts.”

Your mouth waters at the thought, a local shop in the area makes apple cider donuts that you miss so much now that you live out of the area.

“What about your license?”

“It’ll be fine, I drive all the time and it’s not an issue. I just gotta be a good boy and not drive crazy,” he laughs. 

You feel yourself about to fall back asleep so you don’t argue. He crawls over to you, planting a soft kiss on your lips before getting up.

“I’ll be back in a bit, why don’t you sleep a little more, you look…quite rough,” he snickers.

“Wow I wonder what could have possibly caused this?” you roll your eyes at him. 

“Hmm I wonder?” he jokes, throwing on a shirt and sweats that he got from his house last night. 

“Love you tomato girl…friend,” he looks so proud of himself for coming up with that, making you groan.

“You are…something,” you burst out laughing, “love you too, see you soon.”

He comes over and gives you a big, crushing goodbye hug. 

“God I wish you could stay a little longer,” he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“It'll all be okay,” you thread your fingers through his hair one more time before he leaves you to bury yourself in the sheets again, quickly letting sleep consume you once again.

You are jarred from your slumber by your phone ringing. You sit up, disoriented, realizing it’s almost 3PM, much later than Sukuna was supposed to be back. Maybe he was upstairs letting you sleep.

You pick up your phone to answer. 

“Hello?”

“This is a collect call from an inmate at the Southeastern Regional Jail, press 7 to accept.” 

Masterlist

taglist: @clp-84 @zeunys @aquaberrydolphin @nynxtea @yuujispinkhair @ssc7514

[marie-swriting]

New Beginnings - Emily Prentiss

Masterlist

Summary : Emily discovers Andrew Mendoza, her boyfriend, wants to propose and as she thinks back to what you told her when you broke up years ago, she realises why she's so reluctant at the idea of marrying a man.

Warnings : set between s15 and s16, comphet, struggling with sexuality, lesbian Emily Prentiss, reader is queer but no label is used, mention of Emily's abortion and catholic guilt about it and her sexuality, angst, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 2.7k

French version

Song inspiration : Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan

Emily blankly stares at the ceiling, her brain working fast and slow at the same time. She thinks back on her life, more specifically her relationships and the more she thinks about it, the more she notices a similarity in all of them.

Andrew Mendoza’s arm wraps itself around her waist, interrupting her train of thoughts. Emily’s body stiffens while she turns her head and looks at his sleeping face. She can’t believe she didn’t do anything to stop herself from getting into this situation. Feeling like she’s suffocating, Emily gets out of Andrew’s grip and goes to the bathroom without making any sound. The door closed, Emily drinks some water and then wets her face before putting her hands on both sides of the sink and looking at her reflection in the mirror. While she’s gazing at herself, Emily reminisces about the discovery she did earlier in the day.

As she was searching for one of her sweaters, she went through the entire closet where she found a ring in a red box hidden among her boyfriend’s socks. Emily panicked the second she saw the jewel, all at once she put it back in its place. Since then, she can’t stop thinking about what this ring means; Andrew plans on proposing to her nonetheless. When? She doesn’t know, she can’t stay in this relationship. Her head in her hands, she’s looking for a way to announce the awful news to Andrew. While she thinks about what she could say, a sentence and a voice she hadn’t thought about for a few decades make their way to her mind: “if you stay in denial, you’ll find yourself in a relationship you won’t want and one night, you’ll wake up in panic, wondering why you were so adamant on being someone you’re not.” You had said this to her when you were both fifteen.

You and Emily had become friends as soon as she first arrived in your school in Rome. You were inseparable and you shared your deepest secrets; one of them being you were questioning your sexuality which brought you closer. For the first time in your life, you felt understood. At first, it was platonic. From time to time, you were talking about how you were feeling, your interrogations and depending on the day, you’d reassure one another.

However, one night when Emily had invited you over, your relationship shifted. You kissed, your first kiss with someone from the same gender. At first, it was just to try, to be sure you liked girls, then, after a few more tries, you confessed to Emily your kisses meant a lot to you. Consequently, you had accepted to discover this new side of your relationship. There wasn’t a label on it, though you would kiss whenever you could, get jealous and do everything together. You were just experimenting. Yet, you were more in it than Emily. You wanted more, but she was always reluctant. Understanding perfectly your best friend, you hadn’t insisted on being official even if you would have wanted to. You were just two best friends who kissed. For you, it was reason enough to not meet other people, for Emily, it was really not the same.

One day, while you were going to school, you found her kissing John Cooley, a friend you had in common. Your heart had shattered into a billion pieces for the first time in your life. Sure, you were still discovering who you were, nevertheless you weren’t expecting her to kiss someone else, let alone a guy. Looking at her from afar, you had seen her smile, though you knew she was faking it. You were so hurt you ignored Emily for a whole week. Noticing your change, Emily took you aside during break, away from all the ears.

“What’s wrong? Why are you avoiding me?” Emily asked you.

“When were you gonna tell me about you and John?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she denied, looking away.

“Sure, you don’t,” you laughed humorless. “I saw you kissing him last week. I can’t believe you did this to me.”

“We never agreed on being together.”

“Because you never wanted to label it! And I’m not mad at you for that, I just didn’t think you’d kiss other people. I knew I should have put an end to this a long time ago,” you sighed, your heart beating loudly in your chest. “So, is he your boyfriend?”

“If you absolutely want to know, yes, he is. Besides, me and you, it was more to experience things. It was never love.”

“Wow, I can’t believe it. Let’s see how it lasts between you two.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re wasting your time with him,” you replied, taking a step forward. “We both know you don’t like guys.”

“I can like boys and girls!”

“Sure you can, but you said it yourself several times, you’re not sure you love guys and you feel like you’re searching for their validation. I think that says a lot.”

“You don’t know how I feel. You’re not in my head,” Emily retorted, defensive.

“True, though I know you well enough. You can try to convince yourself all you want, it’s not gonna change who you are. But you know what? It’s not my problem. You took me for a fool for too long, I’m done, so go ahead, be with him,” you stated, tearing up. “Keep kissing him, go kiss other guys even, if it can make you feel better but if you stay in denial, you’ll find yourself in a relationship you won’t want and one night, you’ll wake up in panic, wondering why you were so adamant on being someone you’re not. And even if I don’t wish you an unfulfilling relationship, I will tell you ‘I told you so’. You’ll see. You can deny all you want, but we know the truth, so good luck, Emily.”

On those words, you walked away, leaving Emily alone with her denial, yet also her heartache. She might have been too proud to admit it, but losing you hurt her a lot purely and simply because she hadn’t just lost a best friend.

The following morning, Emily is exhausted. She only slept two hours as her dark circles under her eyes prove it. At the crack of dawn, Emily leaves the apartment she shares with Mendoza, leaving him alone, and goes to a café near the BAU headquarters. She orders a black coffee, hoping it’ll keep her awake. Her order ready, Emily is about to walk out from the place when a familiar face catches her attention. She does a double take, staring at the person sitting at a table away from her and once she’s sure she’s not mistaken, she walks towards them. At the table, Emily says your name out loud, making you look up. A surprise expression takes place on your face, realising who is in front of you.

“Emily Prentiss! What a surprise!” you exclaim with a big smile. “How long has it been? You know what, don’t tell me, I don’t want to feel old. I already struggle hiding my gray hair.”

“We're the same on this,” she laughs. “I didn’t know you were in D.C..”

“I moved here three months ago. What about you? You’ve been here for a long time? What do you do?”

“I moved about twenty years ago. I’m working for the FBI, at the Behavioral Analysis Unit, more specifically.”

“Wow, that’s something! It doesn’t surprise me, you’ve always been so intelligent,” you genuinely say and Emily’s cheeks start to heat up.

“What about you? Are you an English teacher, like you wanted?”

“Yes, I am. I work in a high school not too far from here. There’s a good team and the students are majorly nice.”

“That’s great. Sorry, one second,” Emily replies when her phone rings. She takes it and checks her notification. “I gotta go, duty calls, but I’m so happy I saw you. If you’re up for it, we could meet again? To make up for the lost time.”

“I’d love that,” you state before writing your number on a piece of paper. “Call me when you’re free.”

“I will. See you, then.”

“See you,” you say, waving at her.

Emily leaves the café, beaming in a way she didn’t expect to today. On the way to the BAU, Emily reminisces about your relationship and the cute moments, whether they’re from after or before your first kiss. However, the happy feeling stops once she remembers your last fight. She’s always regretted the way things ended between you two. She wishes she could have fixed things when you were still going to the same high school, however she wasn’t brave enough to do so. Now that she’s found you again, maybe it’s time to make amends? She doesn’t know if you���ll accept her apology but she has hope. After all, you didn’t push her away when she came to talk. And if you still hold a grudge, Emily will do everything to change that. She wants to make things better between you two, like she should have.

The following weeks, Emily spends them as much as she can at work - which isn’t complicated - so she can avoid Andrew. She knows she has to break up with him, nevertheless she doesn’t know how to do it. Though she can’t wait too long, Andrew might propose shortly; she has to end the relationship before it’s too late. Consequently, Emily decides it’s time to stop running away from the problem. She comes home earlier than expected as she thinks about what to say. The second she walks through the door, she finds Andrew sitting on the couch. She was hoping she’d have more time. Emily puts her bag down, next to the front door and walks towards him; she sits down beside him, though she keeps a small distance. Right away, Andrew notices something is wrong, Emily didn’t greet him with a kiss to say hello. Uncomfortable, Emily wets her lips before speaking.

“I found the ring,” she confesses, point blank. “It was an accident, I was looking for my sweater and I found it.”

“Oh, and judging by your face, you’re not excited about it,” Andrew says, embarrassed. 

“I spent most of my life hiding who I am and it’s time to stop. It’s better to stop now before our relationship passes this milestone,” Emily announces softly. “You’re a good man and you deserve better, a woman who will genuinely love you.”

“At least, you did it before I got down on one knee,” he nervously laughs. “I get it, Emily.”

“I’m sorry, I never wanted to hurt you.”

Emily and Andrew stay silent for a few seconds, the tension being heavy. Emily doesn’t know what to do to make the situation less difficult. Andrew ends up clearing his throat and standing up.

“I’m going to spend the night at a friend’s, I need to be alone if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.”

Andrew quickly packs a bag before getting out of the apartment. Hearing the door closing, Emily sighs in relief. Not being with Andrew anymore is like a weight being lifted off her shoulders, a weight she didn’t know was crushing her. Of course, she feels bad about breaking Andrew’s heart but it was the right thing to do and this feeling of being relieved is the proof of it. Emily can finally be free to be who she is. From now on, she won’t hide herself, she makes that promise to herself.

You end up meeting Emily two months later. Cases kept her occupied while final exams did the same to you. She told you to meet at a bar halfway between your two apartments. You arrived first so you settle down at a table and check your phone, waiting for her. Emily comes ten minutes later. As soon as she’s in front of you, you notice her hair is now gray. You find her even more beautiful.

“You changed your hair. I love it,” you remark with joy.

“Yeah, I was tired of dying it so I decided to accept my gray hair,” she says, nervously running a hand through it.

“You did the right thing. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Before you begin to talk, a waiter comes to take your order then leaves. Once you’re alone, Emily tells you about when she moved to D.C. and you tell her about how you ended in the same city when the waiter comes back with your two glasses of red wine. The conversation flows naturally, as if you had never stopped talking, as if Emily hadn’t broken your heart years ago.

At one point, the infamous question about relationships comes. You simply answer by saying you’re single. You quickly talk about your last lover before asking her the same question.

“I noticed you don’t have a ring on your finger so either you’re like me and you haven’t found the perfect match or you divorced recently,” you suggest and Emily takes a large sip of her wine, trying to hide her uneasiness. 

“Well, I could have been engaged but I broke up two months ago,” she starts before clearing her throat. “I wasn’t in love with… him. You were right from the beginning. Come on, you can say ‘I told you so,’ I know you’ve been waiting for this since we were fifteen,” Emily adds and your heart tightens a little in your chest. 

“I’m not gonna lie, my fifteen-year-old self would have said it with a big smile on her face, but I won’t. It pains me to know you struggled so much with your sexuality,” you say, putting your hand on her wrist for a second.

“I wasn’t as brave as you when it comes to this.”

“I was only brave because you were with me. After our…,” you begin, looking for the right word, “fight, I took a step back. I could only talk about this with you so once we stopped talking, I struggled again. I had to wait until my third year of university to fully accept myself.”

“You were still quicker than me.”

“I was, yeah. I guess your faith didn’t help either,” you say, drinking.

“You have no idea. Especially when you get pregnant as a teenager and the priest tells you you can’t go back to church if you get an abortion. If he had this opinion about abortion, I don’t want to imagine what he thought about homosexuality,” Emily informs, casually, making you frown.

“I didn’t know you had an abortion.”

“It was after our fight. Only John and Matthew knew. The fact is, in the end, it was hard. Fortunately, I’ve accepted that I'm a lesbian. Better late than never like we say.”

“True.”

“You know, I’m really sorry for the way it ended between us. You were there for me and I only pushed you away and hurt you,” Emily says before taking a deep breath. “You were my first love and I ruined everything when you were nothing but patient with me, at least until I pushed it too far. Losing you is my biggest regret.”

Hearing Emily’s apology warms your heart. You moved on years ago though you’d be lying if you said hearing those words didn’t heal something in you.

“You were my first love, too, and because of this, I was mad for years,” you admit. “It’s true what they say about your first queer breakup, it hurts like hell. But growing up, I understood why you acted the way you did so I stopped being mad.”

“It doesn’t mean I should have done what I did. I knew I’d hurt you by dating John and maybe that's what I wanted,” she says, her eyebrows knitting together. “Hurting you so you’d leave me and I could reject who I was a bit longer.”

“You’re not in denial anymore and I’m not mad so let’s move on.”

“Does that mean you’d accept me being in your life again?” Emily asks, nervous.

“I came tonight, didn’t I?” you rhetorically answer. “Of course, I want you in my life again. I missed you, Emily,” you confess, raising your glass.

Emily does the same and you clink your glasses before drinking to new beginnings. You smile to each other, glad to finally have left the past behind you. You don’t know what the future holds for both of you, whether it’s platonic or romantic again, it doesn’t matter, as long as you don’t lose each other once more, that’s all that matters.

Masterlist

[randomfandomworks]

Caleb x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Pronouns Used: (You/Your) (occasional use of feminine titles such as Mom or Mother)

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy and Birth (only mentioned, not heavily described)

A/N: The Domestic Caleb brainrot got the better of me, not disappointed though just realizing I probably should have gone to bed earlier instead of proofreading (the proofreading did literally nothing, I suck at proofreading)

Dad!Caleb who will love his kids either way but expects a son to be his first, one he can raise to be as protective as him.

Dad!Caleb who’s eldest turns out to be a daughter, a daughter who just so happens to get his protectiveness and her mothers attitude and skills.

Dad!Caleb who spends plenty of time outside with her either training or helping her climb the apple tree you two had planted years ago when you moved into the house.

Dad!Caleb and his matching haired daughter coming inside with their arms overflowing with apples, big, proud grins on their faces.

Dad!Caleb who spends extra time with you in the kitchen preparing a number of different classical and creative apple dishes with your freshly picked fruit.

Dad!Caleb, who never stops wearing the necklace you got him, though it’s a bit worn now, and notices the interest your daughter takes in it.

Dad!Caleb who a few days later gifts your little girl a matching necklace, it’s a bit smaller and changed but her face lights up either way knowing she’ll be matching with her Dad.

Dad!Caleb who is overjoyed when you announce your second pregnancy to him, a secret you and your daughter had kept well hidden until the right time, she had already turned into your partner in crime.

Dad!Caleb who is perfectly willing to give up his office as a nursery but gets more than disappointed when you have to take down his model plane collection, having no where else to put it, it ends carefully stashed in a closet.

Dad!Caleb who can’t help but side eye or glare at anyone who assumes he’s hoping for a boy, as if he wouldn’t want another girl, especially one with your traits.

Dad!Caleb who is still overjoyed regardless, yet visibly more stressed, when you learn that your having not one but two boys in the coming months.

Dad!Caleb who will spend a later half of the night staying up and laughing with you as you both come up with the most outrageous baby names, both of you trying and struggling to keep quiet as your daughter rests peacefully, tucked in by him a few rooms away.

Dad!Caleb who is by your side for every struggle and smile just as he always has been.

Dad!Caleb who can’t wipe the proud grin on his face until at least a week after your boys are delivered.

Dad!Caleb who softly introduces your daughter to her brothers, teaching her gently her new responsibility of keeping them safe as the oldest but reassuring that they can always come to him if it ever gets to be too much.

Dad!Caleb who easily carries both of his boys out of the hospital, a drastic change to how uncoordinated he first was when they were both born a few days ago.

Dad!Caleb who will instantly and silently handle nights with the babies, allowing you to tuck your daughter in and rest yourself instead of stressing yourself unnecessarily.

Dad!Caleb, who is the first person your daughter turns to after school, reading her new book to him as he cradles one of his boys in his arms, reminding you of how he used to bounce her and read to her quietly when she was her brother's age.

Dad!Caleb who is excited every day your children grow more in their personalities.

Dad!Caleb who makes the cutest individual cakes for your son's first birthdays, not minding at all as they end up smearing his work over their faces.

Dad!Caleb who makes those individual desserts a tradition for the two boys as they grow up, and makes sure to put just as much effort into whatever your daughter wants as well.

Dad!Caleb who gets the most boyish grin on his face when one of your sons discovers the model planes he had tucked away ages ago, model planes he now happily unboxes and helps his son put up as he gains an intense interest in them.

Dad!Caleb with one boy who gains his curiosities about aircrafts and your smile and jokes, and another who has the ambition of your daughter, derived from you both, but not the skill and is an amount of clumsy that neither of you are sure who belongs to.

Dad!Caleb with a daughter who is adventurous and loves to read, a son who will happily spend hours with a puzzle or memorizing new facts, and another who will trip over his own feet but can beat both of his parents at a claw machine.

Dad!Caleb who spends time picking and reading new books to his little girl, who will sit outside and use his Evol to make his son’s model planes fly, and who will teach his other little boy all of the tricks to different claw machines leaving them time and time again to clear out the plushies, a gift they will both give to you as soon as they get home.

Dad!Caleb who never forgets an important date from birthdays and anniversaries to things as small as school meetings or performances.

Dad!Caleb who is more than busy but will never miss anything important to any of his kids, and would never dare miss anything important to you.

Dad!Caleb who will make time for his entire family, but especially makes sure there is time for you two.

Dad!Caleb, who will bring you flowers after work just because the idea crossed his mind, and makes sure to pick up a small bouquet for your daughter as well after seeing her reaction the first time.

Dad!Caleb who wakes up every morning to make his family breakfast and will bring yours to you in bed, allowing you two a few more minutes of quiet together before you both get all of them ready for school.

Dad!Caleb who loves movie nights with the whole family as much as date nights between just the two of you.

Dad!Caleb who will continually surprise you with new ideas, dates, recipes, you name it.

Dad!Caleb who will ruffle your children’s hair just as he ruffled, and still ruffles, your own

Dad!Caleb who knows how much you appreciate photos and will drastically add to your collection of your family.

Dad!Caleb who will add every photo of you all that he has to your never ending collection besides one, one of all four of his favorite people asleep on the couch together. Breakfast is long forgotten on the coffee table, a movie your kids just had to see is playing in the back, and they’re all cuddling into you somehow. Each peacefully sleeping and just as at home against you as he has been, just another thing they inherited from him.

Dad!Caleb who quietly keeps this photo in his wallet, looking at it whenever he needs, reminding himself day in and out what everything he does is for.

Dad!Caleb who knows you can both struggle with keeping up with your kids but will make sure it never falls entirely to you.

Dad!Caleb who loves his family more than anything, but has always loved you first and will continue to love you more than anything, and make sure you know it if you ever seem to forget.

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JAY

PAIRING : jensen ackles x fiancé!reader

SUMMARY : it’s jensen’s 47th birthday and reader surprises him at work

WARNINGS : fluff. love. surprises. established relationship. mentions of wedding. age gap if you squint. strong language. implied oral sex (male receiving). daddy!jensen. hints of jealous ex.

A/N : thought of this last night and wrote this morning. happy birthday jensen. i love you more than you know and i hope you get to see your kids today. —your bonnie on the side. 🫶🏽😘🎉🎂🥳🎈🎊🎁

March 1st: Jensen’s birthday. Today, he’s turning 47, a year closer to the number he dreads, yet his age had never bothered me. All I wanted was Jensen. And I’m fortunate enough to say I have him.

He’s been working so hard since September, juggling cons and shooting Countdown, and it doesn’t end there. Once he wraps up his current project, he’s heading straight to Toronto to film The Boys, followed by Vought Rising. I moved to L.A. to be with him, both of us refusing to be apart. Yet, he comes home so late and leaves so early that I hardly see him. But not today, not on his birthday.

With the filming running behind, he still had to go in on Saturdays, and unfortunately, that’s the day his birthday fell on this year. Unbeknownst to him, I had very special plans. The first one was waking him up with breakfast and head in bed.

“Fuck, sweetheart. I don’t know what’s better: the food you make or your pretty little mouth.” Jensen breathlessly chuckles as he swipes the dribble of cum from the corner of my lip.

That was this morning, and now I’m on the set of Countdown, talking with the PAs about his surprise. As he’s finishing his scene, the most important part of my plan shows up. Jensen knew I’d meet him for lunch but had no idea I was flying his kids out from Connecticut for his special day. The only downside to both him and I was his ex tagging along. Despite the years Jay and I have been together—and after Vought Rising wraps, I’ll become their stepmother—Danneel didn’t trust me alone with them. And no matter the animosity I have towards her, I needed his children to be here.

They rush toward me, tackling me with their embrace. It had been months since I last saw them. In between cons, tournaments, and public appearances, Jensen spent his free time visiting his kids across the country. Not that I minded, but I did miss him—and them—like crazy. I wrap my arms around them, laughing with glee as they cling to me.

“Hey! I’ve missed you guys so much.”

“We’ve missed you too!” says JJ.

They squeeze tighter, close to taking my breath away. I play into it and gasp dramatically, making them giggle. My gaze falls on an annoyed Danneel, and a smirk tugs at my lips. She’s always hated my relationship with the kids. ‘Could’ve been one of the reasons she gave Jensen such a hard time about bringing me around. It didn’t matter, though; They loved me anyway. Right from the very start.

They set me free, and Arrow asks loudly, “Is Daddy almost done?”

“Yes, but it’s a surprise, remember? We have to be quiet until we sing him ‘Happy Birthday,’ then you can be as louudd as you want. Okay?”

“Okay!” A PA calls me over, and I excuse myself, but she scampers beside me and takes my hand. “Can I come with you?”

“Sure, but you have to ask your mom first.”

Arrow spins on her heel, asking her mom, “Can I go with Y/N?”

“I wanna go too!” “Me three!” Both JJ and Zep chime in.

She shakes her head. “No, you can stay here.”

They begin to whine, but she doesn’t care. “C’mon, Danneel. It’s not like you won’t be able to see them. They can help me finish a few things.”

A few producers and PAs watch her closely, waiting for her response. With all eyes on her, she caves in, grumbling a “Fine,” under her breath.

The kids jump in joy and hurry after me. Backstage was lined with Jensen’s favorite foods and desserts. All that was left was to finish the decorations and bring out the cake. Without having to be directed much, they pick up streamers and run them along the tables. They even blow up balloons and hang them where they see fit. Once we finish, I tell them my plan.

“Okay, so. I’m thinking you guys hide when Daddy comes in, and when everyone starts singing, you roll the cake out, surprising him. What do you think?” They nod their heads in agreement. Jensen’s PA comes in, quietly shouting that he’s coming. “Okay, kids, it's showtime! Go tell your mom to stand in the back so he doesn’t see her, and you guys wait by the cake.”

They run off, and I direct everyone to stand in a half circle, facing the direction Jensen will be coming from. After giving the final instruction, I turn around and wait. My heart pounds, excited to see his reaction. Everyone’s quiet, and we hear the laughter between the cast members coming off stage. It gets closer, and the curtain pulls back, revealing my groom-to-be.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The crowd shouts, making Jensen jump.

His green eyes widen, and a grin grows. He looks around the room, and his gorgeous orbs land on me. His face says it all: He knew I put this together. That’s not all, Ackles. Everyone begins to sing to him, and he stands in amazement. I walk to the edge of the crowd and wave the kids out.

JJ pushes the cart with her dad’s favorite cake, and the twins walk beside her. His demeanor changes in shock, not expecting to see his offspring. She wheels it in front of Jensen, and the moment it’s in place, he pulls them in for a hug. Everyone watches in awe as they continue to sing. He glances toward me, tears welling in his eyes, having not seen them since Christmas.

My heart soars at the sight. They look so happy. He’d been feeling down lately, not only having gone so long without their presence but knowing their absence was to be expected on his birthday. And when JJ told me her New Year’s resolution was to see her dad more, I knew I had to make this happen. Seeing their reunion was a gift of its own.

I walk toward Jensen, settling my hand over his neatly trimmed beard as he extends his neck to kiss me. It was long and sweet, enough to make Zep cringe. We chuckle and pull away, ceasing our PDA. The traditional birthday song ends, and he blows out his candles. With his face still close, I push his head down, and it smashes into the frosting. Everyone laughs, some hooting and hollering, as they clap. He stands up, shocked that he hadn’t seen it coming before a laugh of his own comes out.

Nearly everyone snaps a picture of his cake-kissed face before he uses his tongue to clean the area near his mouth. Someone hands me a napkin, and before I can wipe him off, he grabs and holds me still. I squeal, but he shuts me up with his mouth, smearing the frosting onto mine. The crowd cheers, and he deepens the sugary kiss. We separate and clean each other’s faces off, but not in the way we would in private.

“All right, kids,” Jensen claps and rubs his hands together as the kids circle the chocolate sheet cake. “Dessert first!” They cheer, and Danneel comes out of the shadows to protest. He mutters, “I knew it was too good to be true,” before arguing back. “Hey, it’s my birthday, and as their father, I say let them eat cake!”

I roll my eyes, knowing he won’t be the one dealing with their sugar rush. Then again, it’s not like she would let me have them anyway, so to hell with her! She doesn’t put up much of a fight with everyone so close. Instead, she stomps away. Once she’s out of sight, I talk some sense into the man.

“Dad, are you sure that’s a good idea? ‘Cause if I remember correctly, you once told me that cake tastes soooo much better after eating food first.”

Understanding my hint, he nods. “You’re right. I did say that.”

“Did you make the food, Y/N?” His younger daughter asks.

“No, babe. Not this time,” They ‘awe’ in disappointment, but I assure them I will tonight. “For now, why don’t we eat some food from Daddy’s favorite restaurant here in L.A.?”

Bouncing at any chance to be closer to their father, they nod excitedly. The kids then run toward the table with the disposable eatware and grab their plates. Before I follow after them, Jensen pulls me into his chest.

“I can’t believe you did this for me.”

I turn in his arms and pull him closer. “Of course, baby. Why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs, looking in the direction his ex-wife disappeared off to. “I guess it’s not something I’m used to.”

“Well, get used to it, birthday boy.”

Jensen gently cradles my face, tilting it up so our eyes meet. “I love you. So fucking much.”

“I love you more.” His lips attach to mine, keeping the kiss PG with our audience present. “Happy birthday, Jay.”

“Thank you, sweetheart. For everything. ‘This has been one of the best days I’ve had in a while.”

“You’re so welcome,” I press a quick peck to his luscious lips before tugging his hand. “C’mon. Let’s go feed our kids.”

He drapes his arm over my shoulder, drawing me close and planting a kiss on the crown of my head as we stroll toward the impatient children.

JENSEN ACKLES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST

FOREVER TAGS : @jaredpadonlyyyy, @nicksalchemy1, @impala67rollingthroughtown, @nancymcl, @graciehams

@spacecowgirl126, @lmg14, @gurneetsadhra23, @crooked-haven, @idontwannabehere7

JENSEN TAGS : @cheynovak, @deadlymistletoe, @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld, @kindollss, @juicyballsworld

@kamisobsessed, @devilslittlehelper, @elenawritesxx, @quietgirled, @giggles1026

@ravenrose18, @criminalyetminimal, @angelicp0etry, @celticma, @1-read-the-hobbit-in-1937

@smoothdogsgirl, @xxorazz, @whichwitchwanda, @10ava01, @deanscroissant

@lailawinchesterr, @chi_raz, @angelbunny222, @writtenbyhollywood, @spxideyver

@tinas111, @deansbbyx

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO JAYS-BONNIE-ON-THE-SIDE

: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform

*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.