#he never stops doing his resting bitch face

[springismss]

could you maybe write about dabi mixing in degradation with his normal dirty talk for the first time but instead of reader being into it, she just gets kind of sad and a bit insecure so dabi has to the comfort her

ᱬ⛧ insecure ~ dabi

pairing: dabi x girlfriend! reader

content: 18+ mdni. p in v, dirty talk, degradation, insecure reader, pet names (doll, good girl, etc), implied different positions, soft dabi, general NSFW content

word count: 904

links: requests masterlist | bnha/mha masterlist | masterlist

a/n: thank you for your request, anon! i'm sorry if this isn't as good as my usual work, dealing with being unwell can really take it out of you but I tried. may or may not have to expand on this in another post at a later date. anyway, I hope you enjoy!as always, likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated. as always, likes, comments and re-blogs are deeply appreciated.

The sound of the bedframe cracking with each harsh thrust echoed around the room, the sound of your desperate moans mixing in with the noises. "Hah, Dabi, feels so good".

The man hovering above you glanced down, eyes trailing over the way your body moved as his hips snapped into yours. How he loved it when you were pinned beneath him, making noises only he would get to hear from you.

"Yeah, I can tell. Fuck, I can feel that pussy squeezing my cock like the desperate little cum slut you are". His hips continued to snap faster into you, hands gripping your hips tightly. "Such a needy fucking bitch".

The moment the words left his mouth and rang in your ears, you tensed again. Your body stiffening as you looked to the side, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. While you'd always been intimate with Dabi, he'd never once uttered something like that to you.

Before you realised what was happening, you felt the thrusts into you stop, a hand cupping your face as you sniffled. "Doll, tell me what's wrong?". You didn't trust yourself, not with speaking, so you shook your head, chewing on your lip as you tried to hold back the tears that slipped.

The hand on your cheek forced your head to move, turquoise eyes looking into yours as you looked down, not wanting to make eye contact with him. Letting out a sigh, Dabi moved his hand and tilted your head, forcing you to look at him. "Doll?".

The small whimper that slipped past your lips took him by surprise. "Hey, tell me what's wrong".

Pulling your arms up, you laid them over your chest and body, hugging yourself tightly. "Y-you don't think I'm a slut or a bitch, do you?". You kept your gaze down as you felt the grip on your face tighten slightly. "Is that what's the matter?".

Nodding your head, you sniffled again. "I promise I'm not; I've never been with anyone else besides you". The way Dabi's heart panged caused a wave of guilt to wash over him. "Oh, my precious doll, I know for a fact you're not any of those. Let me prove it".

Glaring up, you opened your mouth to speak, only to find yourself silenced. Lips pressing against yours in a loving kiss that grew needier the longer it went on. Tongues that moved against the other, saliva that mixed, leaving behind a string once lips parted.

"Let me prove it in the only way I can".

Looking you over, Dabi offered a rare smile before dragging his hips, pulling his cock slowly out of you. A small gasp slipped past your lips before you moaned; the feeling of his cock head hitting deep within you took you by surprise. "Let me show you how much I love you".

From the way his cock pistoned into you, to the way he held onto you, fingers dragging over the inches of your skin. Each movement had you aching, your body begging for more, but you didn't dare speak. Your hands rested on his arms, fingers digging in as you arched your back, trying to push yourself into him more.

No words were spoken by Dabi; he didn't care to speak. He wanted the moment to be all about you. From everything you felt both inside and outside. He wanted to prove to you how much he loved you, how sorry he was.

The same pace went on for what felt like hours, time blending into one long moment until you felt your body being moved. Blinking slowly, you realised you were sitting in Dabi's lap, legs crossed behind his back and arms draped over his shoulders as he held you in the lotus position.

Large hands held your hips again, helping you move in a steady rhythm. The new angle causing his cock to slip deeper inside, the mushroom head pressing against that spongy spot deep in you, your soul feeling like it was buzzing.

All it took was a matter of minutes before you felt that all-too-familiar heat prick your skin and slowly work its way throughout your body. Setting every inch of you on fire. "Let go for me, doll".

The low rumble of his voice in your ear made you shiver as you toppled over the edge, walls of your pussy pulsating and clamping down on the cock within you, milking Dabi closer to his end. The telltale sign of his cock twitching and heat filling you up made you sigh as you let your eyes close, resting your forehead on his.

Soft touches as you rested your hand on his chest, feeling the thumping of his heart beneath your fingers. "I'm sorry". It was quiet, quiet enough to miss if you weren't listening. "It's okay, just talk to me next time beforehand, then we can agree on what you can call me".

A low um sounded from Dabi's throat as he looked at you. "I will, I promise". Letting his fingers slip under your chin, he moved your head, lips pressing against yours once more as he pulled you closer to him, holding you safe in his arms.

He may be a villain, someone who didn't seem to care about most things, but when it comes to you, he'd be the one to make sure the world burns to keep a smile on your face.

© springismss 2025 - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[kyehwas]

☆ walk! ft. johnny suh

-> or, your neighbor treats you much better than your boyfriend

wc + warnings || 1.0k / sorry cheating. boy next door trope, based off walk demo ver, bf finds out ||

You were about to block this bitch.

hey bby cant come over today. busy.

This was the 4th time this week he's canceled plans on you. This wasn't normal, especially not for someone who was supposed to be your boyfriend.

You decide to go outside for a bit. You sit on the curb of your house, sighing. You'd been dating your boyfriend for three months now.

He was tall, hot, and kind. Or so you thought. As the relationship progressed, he started neglecting you more.

“Bros before hoes babe,” Or whatever he said. You wouldn't break up with him though. You couldn't bring yourself to.

“What are you thinking about?” Your neighbor, Johnny, came from his house and took a seat on the curb next to you. You had spoken to Johnny only several times before. He was nice, and had welcomed you warmly when you first moved into the neighborhood.

He was attractive too. You shouldn't be thinking that when you had a boyfriend, but it wasn't wrong either. With his tousled brown hair, soft eyes, and god, those tattoos? “Nothing,” You tell him. You didn't want to worry Johnny, not when you weren't that close to him.

“There's got to be something up. Come inside? The pavement isn’t a comfortable place to sit on.”

For all of those years you had been neighbors with the man, you had never been inside his house before. It was oddly comfortable, somewhat expected. You sat on his black leather couch, staring down at his indigo carpet. He took a seat next to you, and you felt your face heat up when he sat so close your knees were touching.

“What happened to your boyfriend? I'm certain he's there to help, right?” If only he knew.

“Well um…” You began to fidget with a loose piece of string on your jeans. You didn't want to see Johnny's reaction when you told him. “So, I don't think my boyfriend loves me anymore. He's always telling me he's busy and his friends matter more than me and judges everything I do and-”

You're cut off by a tight hug from Johnny. He gently rubs your back up and down, and before you know it, a few tears fall down. “I just want to be loved, Johnny.” You weren't sure what you meant by that, or why you chose to say that out of anything else you could've said.

Luckily for you, Johnny wasn't sure what he was saying either. “Then let me love you.”

It was wrong.

You should be loyal.Instead, your lips were pressed against his, breath uneven as you rested your hands against his heaving chest.

“I'm sorry,” He apologized, fingers grazing over your lips. Deep down, Johnny doesn't really mean it. He wants you, wants to ruin you. He could treat you so much better than your shitty boyfriend.

“Don't be. I'm-” You stop, wondering if you want to finish the sentence. “I've never been that into him anyways.”

ᯓ★﹒ᯓ★﹒ᯓ★﹒

He was yelling again. Over a stupid sports game, to make things worse. Your boyfriend didn't want to go anywhere fun for a date, so you invited him over. The two of you talked for a bit until it was time for soccer.

“I'm gonna go out for a bit. Text me when it's done.” He grunted in response. It probably wasn't a good idea to leave your boyfriend alone in your house alone, but future you would deal with that. You weren't going that far anyways.

“Y/n?” Johnny opened his door, surprised to see you standing in front of it.

You don't even get the chance to greet him, he rather pulls you in for a kiss. “I hate my boyfriend.” 

“What did he do now?” Johnny has a tinge of poison in his voice, one you swore you could taste if you were to kiss him again.

“Johnny, he doesn't care anymore. We don't go on dates, don't kiss, don't do anything.”

“Break up with him.” Your heart stopped.

“I can't. We can't.” You weakly try to push him away, but it doesn't work. His hand is around your waist, and you can't escape.

“Your man isn't involved in this. It's just me and you, baby,” He caresses your cheek with the other hand, using his thumb to part your lips.

“Johnny, what if he comes outside?” Your attempts to knock some sense into him are weak, not like you want him to stop anyways.

“Let him watch. Or break up with him before he finds out, your choice.” His words were swift; you had noticed he wasted no time in getting to the point. Maybe that's what you liked about him the most.

He didn't care about being caught, all he cares about was you. You could only wonder how long it would take before your boyfriend figured out what was going on.

ᯓ★﹒ᯓ★﹒ᯓ★﹒

It had been months now. Months since your little affair started, months since you realized how much of a terrible person your boyfriend was.

You had even set a custom ringtone for Johnny so you could tell when exactly it was him calling you over.

You finally let him come over to your house. You were definitely anticipating his touch, but not so quickly.

Johnny considered himself a patient person. But it was different with you. He pushed you against the couch barely after a minute had passed, hands roaming up and down your body as his tongue explored the crevice of your mouth.

"Fuck, Johnny

You were completely into it, into him. A little too into it, one could say, since you didn't even hear the way your front door creaked open.

“Baby, I wanted to apologi-” Your boyfriend at the door, holding a box of chocolates.

Johnny smirked, his eyes darting from your terrified face to your frozen boyfriend. “Can't you see we're in the middle of something?”

[shuridelights]

Peter by Taylor Swift about childhood friends to lovers to strangers Isagi x reader fic, where you guys were together until Isagi left for Blue Lock, and due to his quick uprising both decided to take a break so he could focus on his career.

Except that you guys never came back together.

You waited from him, expecting a message after he arrived from Blue Lock, bitting your nails down to the quick.

You watched his games from your home and heard about him in the streets from the mouths of others (foulmouthed, calculative, and terrorific in the field. He was Blue Lock's Ace. No longer your Yoichi) while your lips were forgetting the shape of his name.

Years later, you were different people with careers raising over the corpse of your relationship. But even then, finding you singing mournfully on the piano was not how Isagi would have ever imagined to meet you again.

He took a step towards you in a daze when an arm fell over his shoulders, his teammates pulling him towards the bar where the rest of the people were, away of the agonizing ghost on the stage.

When he looked back, you were no longer there.

[phagodyke]

anyway yeah relevant to that post abt being deaf/hoh and ppl excluding u from conversation bc of it (even unintentionally), that's smth that's been really deeply bothering me lately bc there are a few ppl I routinely have to deal with who do it a lot and it Pisses Me The Fuck Off I've lost all patience w them. giving up and calling it ableism and walking out idc anymore 🚶‍♂️

[partiallysame]

I'm sorry if this is a weird request, I love your writing a lot and you bring me great comfort, and I've been binging ur stories after my ex cracked me in the face (enjoy jail Ryan)

how do you think poly 141 with a civilian s/o who comes home from work, not expecting them to be home from deployment, with a bloodied lip and black eye, a tear across her forehead that slowly oozes blood. Maybe her own knuckles are bruised and split from where she had fought off the two men who jumped her. Her pants were torn at the knees from where she grappled on the ground. Johnny's jean jacket he let her borrow was nowhere in sight left in dust as she ran for her life.

I love your writing again, I hope ur safe and please eat well and rest ❤️❤️ don't let anyone get away with putting their hands on you.

First and foremost fuck you Ryan rot in jail and hell bitch

The adrenaline had finally started to wear off as you pulled your car into the driveway, only to start to panic again when you realized your husband and your boys were home early. Like two weeks early. You sat in your car for a few moments trying to wipe the blood from your face, your hands, your knees, trying anything to look like what just happened didn’t actually happen. But the second your car pulled in they all made their way out, too excited to see their Missus to wait for her to come inside. Johnny was the first to reach the car, always so eager to see you. You sat still in your car. He tried to open the door but it was still locked. Crouching down to motion for you to open the door, maybe you were on the phone or something and that's why you hadn’t gotten out yet. But as he lowered himself to see you, only to be met with a nightmare sight. 

“Sweet’art open the door.” Voice serious in a way you had never heard before. His hand reached behind him to wave the rest of the men over, not wanting to yell for them and scare you more than you already seemed. You shook your head no. They weren’t supposed to see you like this. You were fine. You made it home, you were safe now, you were gonna fix up all your wounds and be healed before they got home. But here they were trying to coax you out of the car as tears streamed down your face. Fingers slowly pressing the unlock button, both the drivers and passenger side doors were swung open. Johnny reached over you to unbuckle your seatbelt and scooping you up out of the car. 

“Bring me my wife.” It was an order that MacTavish was not going to follow until you were pulled from his arms. “M’sorry’s” poured from your mouth between sobs as you clung to your husband and were brought into the house and set so gently on the kitchen counter, allowing the four men to get a full view of your beaten body. You sat, body shaking slightly from the adrenaline and pain that was starting to set in as they stared. Stared and the dark purple forming around your eye. Staring at the gash across your cheek and your split lip. Drops of blood on your torn shirt, jeans shredded at the knees, wet bloodied fabric stuck to the scrapes on your knees. They were all looking at you so differently. You thought your husband was going to cry, Johnny too. Kyle looked so broken. You had been working so hard for Simon to soften to open up to you and he was, but the look on his face scared you. 

Working in perfect unison the men started to undress you, removing your bloodied clothes. A first aid kit was set next to you as they each took a portion of you to care for. Apologizing when you’d wince at the pain of being cleaned up. Johnny was holding an ice pack up to your eye as Kyle took off his shirt for you to wear. None of them were willing to leave your side long enough to just grab new clothes from down the hall. Another “I’m sorry” fell from you and your husband felt like he was going to snap.

“My Love, please stop apologizing. It’s not yer fault honey. Can ya tell us what happened?” You nodded and recounted how two men had cornered you after work, wanting your purse. How they thought you weren’t handing it over fast enough. 

“But I’m a captain’s wife you know? Not just gonna take it lying down now am I? You should see the other guys.” You tried to joke and motioned to your split knuckles that Simon had so carefully wrapped up for you. 

“Where?” Simon’s voice came out harsh and the men snapped their heads toward him, a warning to calm down. (They’d find who did it later but rn the focus is on their Missus)

“I’m sorry Johnny.” You turned toward the large scot still holding the ice pack. He lowered it because he wanted you to see his face when he told you there was no reason to apologize.

“But I was wearing your jacket. You know the jean one you left for me. The one that smells like you. The one you look so handsome in. It came off and I left it there.” Your breathing picked up again, tears threatening to spill at losing his favorite jacket. You barely finished your confession when he was pulling you into his chest, strong arms feeling so warm and gentle around you.

“Don’ care about a fuckin’ jacket. You came home lovie. That's what I care about.”

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, piercings, sex-trafficking, reader has big breasts...

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about being a sociopathic billionaires sex-trafficked dungeon whore…

You’re his cheap slut—his dirty little secret he keeps down in his filthy basement under lock and key. He might go on boring dates with boring gold-digging prudes to maintain appearances, but even as he fucks them, he’ll roll his eyes at their fake moans, trying to block it out and imagine you—and how he knows you’re waiting for him at home, like a pet.

He’s got intense fetishes—pierced your tits, belly button, tongue, nose, clit, and labia on the first day of your imprisonment. Your nose hook is a ring big enough to fit his cock through when he fucks your throat. Your tongue has a whole of five silver bells and a sixth ring at the very tip, which he often hooks up to a chain so he can lead you around like a panting bitch in heat instead of using a boring old collar.

No, he likes keeping your neck free so he can grip it himself, hard enough to leave his mark on the skin—fresh bruises every new day. He keeps your nipples on a shared leash anyway, so he has plenty of things to yank if he wants to, which he does.

Instead of keeping you chained by your ankle, he keeps you chained by your clit. The chain is skinny and could probably be broken if ripped hard enough, but you wouldn’t dare—any harsh movement feels as though your poor pearl is being pulled off. And with your arms in a harness behind your back, there’s not much left to do but lie there on the sweaty, sex-drenched mattress and wait for your captor to return.

And he does—every day—without fault.

When he comes downstairs, you greet him with your tongue out, nuzzling your face against his crotch just like a puppy, licking him through the fabric of his italian suit until it’s bulbous and fat and dripping with your drool. You never talk unless spoken to, but you always keep your mouth open—it’s the law—if his cock isn’t down your throat, then your tongue should be hanging out and begging for it. 

He has a lot of laws. You’re only allowed to walk around on all fours. You never go upstairs. And your cunt is never empty—if it isn’t hosting his fat erection, it’s cumming and crying around the thrums of a thick egg instead, always keeping you slick and sensitive for his return.

He's a fan of plugging all your holes, especially after a rough day of work. He’ll lay you on your belly against the cool concrete floor, tied up all snug, only able to wiggle as he stuffs your cunt with the fattest dildo in the collection, your other hole with another, before straping the longest one down your throat, just to have you struggle.

Listening to your whimper is how he winds down. Meanwhile, he goes and does something else, such as playing a round of pool between himself and a glass of scotch while laying bets on whatever sport’s showing on the TV—not for the sake of winning, it’s all small millions, just for a bit of fun.

Your pussy is the absolute best. It even has his name on it—tattooed upon the mound in pretty cursive letters like you were custom-designed for him. You basically were—he spent hours browsing through pictures and samples before stopping at you, his perfect little cock-toy.

“Do you wanna be bred or fed, little whore?” he rasps against your ear, fucking your tight wet cunt hard enough for it to squelch with slick, all but streaming down your thighs along with sweat.

You think you’re a very slim step away from comatose—it’s already been a long game of passing in and out. You haven’t been able to stand for a while, but he keeps you upright between himself and the wall, letting you rest with your cheek smushed up against the cool concrete as the only thing keeping you stable, except from his ruthless manhandling, keeping you on your feet even as your knees shake and buckle.

You’re so light-headed—he doesn’t feed you nearly enough to sustain the activity he puts you through. Actually, he doesn’t feed you enough to sustain any amount of activity at all. But you suppose that’s part of the fun—keeping you dull and weak and pliant, desperate to please in the hopes he’ll have mercy. Anything will do, anything at all—scraps, crumbs, cum.

“Fed,” you pant weakly in answer, to which he chuckles breathlessly.

Simpering at your ear with a toothy grin. “Of course, you do—” He gropes both breasts in his ringed hands, kneading them up like dough as he steadily ruts against you—balls smacking hard and heavily against your clit. “Gotta keep these fat tits plump and juicy for me, right?”

Everything is numb and sore—even breathing is consuming too much energy. You can only rejoice that it’s all going to be over soon, agreeing to his vile words all too sweetly, “Yes, master—”

He coos at you—why would he want any pearl-necked blouse-wearing preppy cunt over you, his perfectly house-trained slut.

“C’mere and say ah, slut—and I’ll give you a nice warm mouthful.” He pulls you down to the ground, on your knees with your back against the wall, his fist in your hair holding your head back while you roll out your tongue.

Groaning when he starts spurting, “That’s it, my needy little cum-junkie—swallow it all.” 

There’s always a hint of psychotic glee to his rambles, something just short of frantic. 

“Waste a drop, and you’ll lick it up off the floor.” Oh, you know. And so you make sure to wait until all of it’s out before swallowing. 

Your tongue is no stranger to his body or its tastes. Whether it be the sweat off his ballsack or the dried piss off his cockhead—you lick him clean—suck his toes as you massage his sore feet, lip his armpits, but most importantly this—drinking his cum and cherishing every drop of it. Your sole food source…

“Good bitch.”

This is what being rich is all about—warding his very own dungeon where he trains his very own little sex slave.

He washes you every day. Making thorough work of it. Fingering all your holes as deep as he can reach with soap and oil, even your mouth. Treating you just as if you were a real plastic blow-up doll. 

It’s the most intimate relationship he’ll ever have.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Naoya, Geto, Gojo, ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kuro, Sakusa, Atsumu ♡ BLLK – Reo, Sae

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[zz-uno]

studybuddy!choso who sits at the library table with his hair in a ponytail, with a couple of loose strands, glasses askew and arms folded as he scowls at you from his chair. but not on purpose!! he just has a TERRIBLE resting bitch face.

studybuddy!choso who immediately gets to business on helping you study, he has a pretty strict policy. although he isn’t as strict as he acts, in reality he is extremely easy to fluster. probably due to the fact he’s never felt the touch of a woman before.

studybuddy!choso who starts to get sweaty palms and labored breathing after you accidentally bump arms.

“hey, is everything alright?”

“y..yeah…i’m fine just…a bit hot isn’t it?”

“….it’s 43 degrees outside…”

studybuddy!choso who might have stolen your pencil after your study session. it’s not like he was short on writing supplies, his pencil was probably filled to the brim with a million different brands of erasable pens and mechanical pencils with erasers shaved down to their last bit.

studybuddy!choso who slowly puts the wood of the pencil between his teeth as he palms the tent growing in his pants, remembering how cute you looked with your hair tucked behind your ear and eyebrows furrowed as you tried to comprehend the material.

studybuddy!choso trying to imagine how you’d ride him, if you’d ask in your usual polite voice if he could help you out the same way you do when you’re stuck on a problem.

studybuddy!choso who cums so hard he breaks the pencil in between his teeth as he thinks of the sweet sounds you would make when you hit your climax.

studybuddy!choso who shows up to the library the next day with sweat dripping down his forehead and his hands in his hair.

studybuddy!choso who nearly goes feral when you knock over your pencil case and send a couple of things flying, causing you to go under the table and try to hand things to choso to put back on the table. the view of you under the table while looking up at him is almost too much for him to bare. he bites his lip til it nearly bleeds trying not to cum in his pants.

“you’ve been acting a bit weird lately cho.. you sure everything’s okay?”

choso lets out a quiet whimper before responding. he thinks you don’t catch it but you 100% do.

“..mhm…yeah..”

studybuddy!choso who has to use both palms to cover his mouth as you wrap your lips around his red flushed tip. precum leaking over your fingertips as you try to stroke the rest that you can’t swallow.

studybuddy!choso who lets out quiet whimpers and high pitched moans in order not to draw any attention as he reaches his climax. even after he cums you continue to stroke his overstimulated cock seeing if he can handle more.

studybuddy!choso who grabs a fistful of your hair and quietly begs you to stop, “t..too sensitive…” he says, but that just makes you even more determined to see how quiet he can keep himself when he’s under this much pleasure.

a/n: yo i lwk got bored writing this so that’s why it ends so abruptly but i hope you enjoyed 🤧 (might make a part 2)

[inkivaari]

just thinking... remmick with a human lover who loves fucking with the fact that he can't cross the threshold of her little home without permission :p

imagine sitting out on the porch as the sun goes down, and there he is. you beckon him closer, he's coming out of the tree line and he catches your scent... you'd been playing with yourself today. smells it on those delicate fingers. smells the sweet sweat on the back of your neck. smells it between your gorgeous, plump thighs...

oh, but he sees the mischief in your eye from here. and before he is able to dart to the porch, you're leant against the doorway, your arms folded. he growls, wipes the drool from the corner of his mouth.

"we're playing like this tonight?"

you smile like the cat who's got the cream, your fingers tapping against the wood. you nod. "took too long."

"gettin' bold with me, lass?" he scoffs, but his fangs protrude from his gritted teeth. grinds them together, can't stand being this close to you but not able to touch you. your scent was right there, that glorious pudding of a cunt was right fucking there and there was nothing he could do about it. and the kicker was, you knew it damn well.

"when i get my hands on you, you're goin't' suffer. "

"when will that be?" you take a step inside, doing a little spin, the hem of your little slip riding up, remmick catches the sight of your little pussy, just for a moment, and his claws are out instinctively.

"you're only making it worse for yourself, girl." he seethes, palming at his erection shamelessly to your glee. your little smug face made him want to ruin it, shove it into the dirt as he ripped your throat out. ah, ah, reel it back. he wanted you warm.

he has to crane his neck to watch you skip about the living room, pushing your quaint little armchair in view of the doorway. he could howl, not bothering now to stop the saliva dribble from his maw. you little bitch. you wouldn't dare, not if you valued your life.

but there you sat, your divine legs spread apart, resting on the leg rests, your cunt wide open, shining with your slick, that heady scent of your sex making him want to tear at his flesh with need. he let out an unholy roar when those wicked fingers began their work, one hand's fingers dedicated to circling your clit while the other's delved inside your gorgeous little hole with no resistance. you'd been fucking yourself all day, given yourself orgasm after orgasm, so that the scent of your ecstasy would reach him from miles away. and it had.

he had no reservations about pulling down his slacks and viciously pumping his cock before you, viscous pre-cum dripping from the bulbous head, flushed red and furious, much like the man whose fist was savagely squeezing it, pulling back his foreskin over and over and over, a creature of sin and hunger made desperate for relief, for reprieve, his eyes locked on your pussy as they glowed crimson in the shadow of your porch.

he was choking on drool and his heavy breath, his body hunched and trembling with the exertions of lust. cursing your name again and again, threatening you, promising you that he was going to get you. but oh, your laughter was beautiful music bubbling from your throat. you were his glorious siren, his slice of a heaven he thought he was locked out of, his sweet little lass... he was going to love you, even when your flesh would gush between his teeth.

he lost control, lost himself. never been good at holding himself back when it came to carnal pleasures, especially not the ones that you brought him. and he paints the doorway with his cum, his body going slack but twitching with each rope he shoots out, whimpering and spluttering and crooning for you.

...and that's when, in his stupour, he hears your lilting voice, like heaven's little bells.

"come inside, darling. bring me hell."

[everythingspokenfor]

୭୧.All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI.

"I have never seen an actual dick before," you blurt out, mouth full of popcorn as you watched Bakugou work on repairing his gauntlet, he stops, turning to look at you, bewildered.

"I didn't really need to know that." He deadpanned, turning back to his work station, tip of his ears taking on a rosy hue.

"No, listen, like I know you haven't seen a pussy either," You stopped abruptly, watching as his head snap towards you for the second time, palms gripping the screwdriver tight.

"The fuck is wrong with you," he sighed out, giving up fixing his gauntlet, instead getting up to grab a drink, you scramble, tossing the popcorn bowl onto the side table, before hopping behind him.

"Nothing is wrong with me," you state, pressing a hand against your chest you stand in front of him, "I am just curious, and I know you are too." You fold your arms, eyes challenging his.

"No."

"I didn't even say anything yet."

"I know what is cooking in your head." He points an accusatory finger, side-eyeing you, "and the answer to that is no." He knew exactly what you intend to say, but he has no intention taking part in any of your fantasies.

"But, this is like mutual benefit," you instigated, placing both your hands on your hips, "Like I get to see what I want and you get to see what yo-"

"When did I say I want to see your pussy?"

"Bitch, I know you want to," You counteracted, chest heaving slightly as you tried to convince him, breaking him is difficult, for some even impossible but you can, with the right approach you can make him do anything.

"Think about it, Suki." You lower your voice a little, eyes lowered before you slowly lifted them, catching his eyes, you notice the hitch in his breath, notice his eyes darting down at your lips before your eyes again, "I wanted to do this with you, only you."

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and then down, you know his resolve is about to break.

"Once, then we never talk about it."

Your eyes lit up, hands already moving to untie the strings of your sweats.

"Woah! Slow the fuck down, I didn't say now!" He groans, instantly averting his eyes and turning away slightly.

"Why not?"

He groans, hands placed on his face, as he turned a deeper shade of red."I have to clean up." He mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

"What do you mean? Do you have to.... wash it or something?" You tilt your head.

"The fuck! It's washed." He juts, arms crossing again as he tried to convince you about his hygiene, not that you needed it, you knew what a clean freak he was.

"Then what is it, Suki."

"I have to shave." He breaths out, you look at him bewildered. He watches as you finally register his words, stupid grin returning on your face.

"I don't mind it fuzzy, peaches." You scratch your chin, before eyeing him up and down.

Bakugou glares at you, steam flaring his nostrils, before he launches at you, hands coming to grab your waist as gently smacked you with a nearby pillow.

"Okay! Okay, we don't have to do it now." You yielded, hands coming to shield your face. Both of you are breathless, chests heaving as you take in your position, your legs a spread enough to accommodate him between your legs, he is sitting on his heels, palms on your thighs, you twitch slightly, heat rising in your belly.

You moved forward, rising to your elbows, "We don't have to take our pants off, Mr. Dynamight, but-" you sit up, pulling his face towards you, "but, there are others things we can share." You hand glides down, resting on his tits pecs.

He flexes them subconsciously, "you have already seen me shirtless before."

"It's only fair, I take my shirt off then." You squirm a little, pulling your shirt from underneath you, you lift it high enough so that the hem of the shirt is tucked underneath your chin, bare breasts exposed to the cold air of the room and to him.

You watch him visible swallow, his pupils dilating as he takes in the sight of your hardening nipples, "Can I touch you?" His voice, barely above a whisper, hands gripping the carpet beside your waist, you pretend to think for a moment, eyes narrowing at him, "That is, if you want it." He stutters, backing up slightly, ensuring you wouldn't feel uncomfortable despite this being your idea.

You spread your legs wider, before locking them around his waist, "You can touch, Suki." You mutter, dainty fingers coming to scratch the back of his head, pulling him closer.

He balances himself on one hand above you, other hand coming to palm your breast, he holds first, unaware of what to do and quiet honestly enjoying the weight of it in his hand.

You let out a sigh, placing your hand on your other breast, "You can squeeze it, gently," you flex your fingers, the fat bulging between your digits, Bakugou copies it, eyes locked as if he is in a trance.

You move your hand slightly, slowly twisting your nipple, fingers pinching and tugging at your bud, Bakugou follows that too, thick fingers flicking at your nipples, rolling it between his thumb and index finger.

You bite your lips, contemplating, before your blurt out, "You can suckle on it too." Your free hand deviating back to his head, gently nudging his head towards your chest.

His eyes become droopy, breathing heavily, he brings his face closer, slightly chapped lips encircling your nipple. It's experimental first, as he tries to feel what it's like, before he pulls away taking a deep breath and diving back in.

He stays attached to your breast for what feels like eternity, his cheeks smeared with his spit, the same dripping between your boobs. He pulls back, feeling light headed, as he glances down at your figure once more. "That was..." His words drifted away, throat drying as he tried to form a sentence.

"Insightful." You smirked lazily, moist panties sticking to your cunt, "next time I am going to explore your tits." You words make him blush harder, ever present redness of his cheek darkening.

Divider by: @/diviniyae

[melloeyed]

Gaslight District X Mom!Reader Headcanons

Part Two

(Reader is Butcher Ken’s wife and Mel and Breadhead’s Mama.)

• Being the wife of a mafia boss while being the mother of a human and a yeast golem is pure insanity, but when it comes to the love for your family, there’s nothing you cannot handle.

• You mostly spend your days tending to The Whale Belly Butchershop while Ken and Mud are on their missions with the kids, but it’s not unheard of for you to join them.

• Mel would always be the first person to bounce into your arms after a successful killing mission, rambling about how awesome the trip was and how she helped the gang. She would always love hearing your words of praise after putting up with Ken’s endless bickering for her safety.

“…and then I used the chainsaw! Pretty cool, huh, mom?”

“Oh-ho-ho! I wish I was there to see it, sweetie!”

• You would always quickly tend to Mel whenever she was injured after a mission.

• Like Ken, you were severely worried about your daughter’s safety, considering how you and your husband are the only people who know she’s a human. Though, unlike him, you’re not as overprotective.

• And Mel absolutely loves you for that. She would often use you as leverage for winning arguments with her dad when it comes to her safety.

“Mel, I always told you not to-!”

“Oh, c’mon, Ken! You never let me go outside on my own! Mom always lets me!”

“DON’T BRING YOUR MOTHER INTO THIS!”

• Breadhead is a total mama’s boy and will always look forward to at least spending time with you every single day. The silly bread man just loves your guts. You’ve been nothing but sweet to him since he was a bun in the oven and he’s always willing to return the love.

• Anything his mama says, he’ll do it. Do chores at work, he’ll do it. Bring a souvenir from one of the missions, he’ll do it. Cement the man that insulted your cooking, he’ll do it.

• Just like how Mel wants Ken to be proud of her, Breadhead can’t get enough of you being proud of him.

• There was a time when you joined the Smiling Dead on a mission and Breadhead was bubbling with excitement. He was twice as excited to fight with his mama and often turned to you for praise after brutally mutilating a random Rotling.

“Mama, did you see that? Did you see what I did?”

“Of course, honey bun. Mama’s so proud!”

“Heh heh! Mama’s proud of me!”

• Even though you don’t join missions, you’re just as insane and demented as the rest of the crew. Though you do a better job at hiding it than the others. Ken and Mud find you fun to be around because of this.

• Your kids would be busy ripping apart their latest victim and you would be just watching them, unfazed with a calm yet proud smile, completely splattered in the victims purple blood.

• Ken would always plan date nights with you whenever your schedule was open. Slow dancing in the closed butcher shop with soft music in the background was always his go-to for a romantic night.

• You and Ken were the undead Bonnie and Clyde of the town, but better. You, Ken, and Mud were the only members of the Smiling Gang before Mel and Breadhead were born.

• Mud would often reminisce those days. He would always bring up how he missed those good old times when it was just you three and how much more exciting and crazier the missions were back in the day.

“Ah, Mel. You should’ve seen (Y/N) back then when she was in the crew! She was one crazy bitch!”

“Watch it, Mud! But yes, I quite was…”

• Mud often tends to steal your things just to rile you up. He knows that pissing you off is like playing with fire, but hey, what’s more fun than bickering with his sister-in-law?

• Being the wife of a mafia don always has its perks. Ken never stops spoiling you after making a good amount of scarab from work. Dresses, jewelry, custom-made knives, he always knew what you wanted.

• He happily remembered how you squealed with joy and covered his face with kisses after he gave you a torture rack as a gift on your 4th anniversary together.

• And just like Ken, you know how to spoil him too. Cooking his favorite meals, gifting him a new car and weapons, giving him a divine massage after a long and hard day of work, and always being there for him when he needs a hand.

• Ken feels like the luckiest man on earth whenever you have his back. He always tends to solve his own problems when it comes to crooks that try to mess with his family, but when his wife does it for him? He has hearts in his eyes for you.

• There was a time when a random creepy guy tried to grope Mel in the butcher shop. Before Ken could skin the fool, the creep was already bleeding on the ground, shrieking for mercy from you. But his pleas fell upon deaf ears.

• The other residents of the shop nearly pissed icicles from the smiling death stare you gave to the creep while slowly torturing him. Your calm threats to him didn’t make it better either. While Mel watched you slowly eviscerate the creep in excitement, Ken swooned at the sight of his beautiful wife defending their daughter.

“PLEASE! I’M SORRY! I WON’T DO IT AGAIN!”

“…If you ever try to touch my baby girl that way again…I’ll tear out your spine through your dickhole and mulch your shit body into steaming mush…repeatedly and SLOWLY…”

• And yeah. That turns Ken on.

“Uh, dad? Why are you looking at mom like that?”

“Oh, Mel…your mother sure knows how to disturb the peace…in my pants…”

“AUGH! GROSS! TMI, DAD!”

[dhazefawn]

ㅤ۟ㅤㅤ──ㅤ𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓ㅤ۫ㅤ ͏ㅤ𑜞᭄ ㅤ۪ㅤ⊹ㅤ𓈒

🧷 𑁯 𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 ── 𝓙𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 w/ an 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ! reader ഒ

♡ · REQUEST ── ❝ Could I pretty please request a fic thats Jason Todd X reader!!! But like... Reader is THAT girl . . . She has and always will be the shit of Gotham . . . Jason and reader have been friends since his robin dayz, and after he dies they still get back together and resume their bad bitch couple shit . . . it melts ppls hearts. ❞

⊹ 💬 · these reqs are so fun i love writing jaybeans and reader totally in love and being the hottest people in the room <3

ഒ DIRECTORY⠀;⠀RULES⠀;⠀TALK HERE⠀;⠀HEADCANONS

Jason thinks he knows what sanctuary feels like—heaven built brick by brick by the hands of an angel he once knew before the waves of the Lazarus Pit covered him completely. It changed his young skin into something marred.

He did come back. He clawed his way out of his grave. But he came back wrong. He left something of the boy he used to be under that dirt. The name ‘Jason Todd’ etched upon that gravestone was long forgotten by most.

By most. Not all.

There had been white lilies upon his grave. It was like clockwork. Every month She came to him—or where She thought he rested. He watched from afar. His eyes never left the angel he used to know—his sanctuary.

She had grown up into something otherworldly. She wasn’t the girl he used to see during the Galas Bruce dragged him to, clinging to her parents as if everyone else around her scared her. Her glossy eyed stare had found him then. It had been so easy to attach himself to Her.

She was his friend. Is still now by the look of it. She never stopped visiting with those White Lilies, grieving losing something as if he was something She held dear.

She’s something different now. The girl She was still lingered behind those sharp eyes—hypnotizing to a fault—eyes that used to trap him in their hold and still continue to do so to this day.

She walks with a purpose now. Every step is calculated. People in Gotham City worship or curse the ground She walks on. It doesn’t change the fact everyone knows Her. Everyone notices Her.

She shines the brightest in this whole damned city.

He had wished She could shine upon him as well. He took his chance. Like a dog scratching at its owner’s door, begging to be let in—he caved and ran to the only sanctuary he’d known—Her.

She opened the door.

It was a dark night when he visited Her. The alabaster moon’s light was akin to a halo around Her. Her hair was perfectly imperfect—styled but slightly messy from sleeping. Her skin just as alive as he remembered it.

Her eyes still looked at him as if She loved his own sea-green eyes. Her hands now slender and soft—different from the calloused hands of his—still tender as they grazed his face, testing if he was real. As if this was a dream for Her, as if She dreamed of him.

The way She brought him into Her hold felt like a dream. The way She let him wrap his arms around her felt like a dream.

He’d entered the sanctuary again after that night alongside Her. Or maybe, the sanctuary was always just Her.

Next to Her he felt alive. The boy Jason Todd came alive under Her touch. It felt akin to lightning under his fingertips. It felt like a drug he was getting addicted to.

She was his. He was Hers.

The wide-eyed stares the two of them got was ever so worth it. Gotham City’s angel had brought heaven to the devil. Her hands played the entire Gotham elite like an instrument. She was Gotham City’s crowned princess, and him—the prince.

The media was alive with rumors about the two of them.

‘Is Love Real? Jason Todd's Soft Eyes™ Only for Gotham's It Girl: Gotham gasps. Media combusts. Hearts melt.’

Jason wasn’t used to this kind of light.

Not from the moon, not from Her living room dimmed by candlelight, not from the soft flash of paparazzi bulbs trying to catch a glimpse of their joined silhouettes through the tinted windows of a passing car.

He wasn’t used to being seen like this.

Not as a weapon. Not as a story of resurrection gone wrong.

But as Hers.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

There's something about the way She walks beside him. Like Gotham belongs to Her and She’s just letting everyone else borrow the sidewalk.

Jason doesn’t flinch under the eyes anymore. He used to. Used to brace himself for whispers or stares, expecting judgment or recognition or worse.

But now—now the stares are different.

They’re envious.

Jason said, “You wanna ditch this place?” His voice carried the weight of a man who’d learned the value of simple pleasures after tasting both death and resurrection.

She turned to him, eyes gleaming like She knew every life he'd lived—and said, “Yeah. But I'm driving.” The words simple but carrying universes between them.

He’d never loved a voice more in his life.

The next morning, tabloids were in flames.

‘Gotham's Golden Girl and the Reformed Robin.’

A grainy photo of them in a booth at some dive on the east end—Her in his leather jacket, him smiling like he forgot how to scowl, like happiness wasn’t just something that happened to other people.

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

Tim said, “So, this is a thing now?” His voice cutting through the manor’s morning quiet like a curious bird.

Jason shrugged, sipping coffee in the manor kitchen like he didn’t just spend the night wrapped in silk sheets and Her perfume, like dawn hadn’t broken over his skin with Her breath against his neck. “Guess it is.”

“Since when?”

“Since she opened the damn door.” And with those words, heaven had let him back in.

Dick walked in, caught sight of the look on Jason's face and went, “Oh my god, he's in love.” The words hanging in the air like a revelation.

That’s when Roy burst in through the back entrance, wild-haired and sleep-deprived, clearly running off three hours of rest and one Red Bull, a whirlwind of motion and disbelief.

“I just saw the photo, and I swear to God, tell me it's Photoshop.”

Jason blinked. “Morning to you too, Harper.”

Roy stormed into the kitchen, phone in hand, showing the now-viral tabloid shot of Her sitting on Jason’s motorcycle in a black leather mini-dress and his jacket like she was the poster girl for ‘my boyfriend’s a reformed vigilante and I run this city.’

“This. This is real?! You and her?!”

Jason didn't even look. “Yeah. Real.” In those two words, the certainty of a man who’d touched divinity and lived to tell about it.

Tim sipped his drink like this was better than reality television.

Dick leaned against the fridge, smirking. “He’s been soft for her since we were kids.”

Roy stared at all of them, processing, then slowly sat down at the kitchen island like his legs gave out. “No, I need a minute. I’m dizzy. Jason Todd has a goddess who voluntarily chooses to hang out with him?”

Jason raised a brow. “You good?”

“No! I am not good!” Roy pointed dramatically. “You’re hot in a feral, ‘I fought my way out of hell’ kinda way. She’s hot in a ‘Vogue cover and private yacht in Monaco’ kinda way. That math doesn't math.”

“Sounds like jealousy to me.” Jason just grinned like the devil himself got a second chance at heaven.

© dhazefawn | all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are not allowed to be reposted, translated, or modified. viewer discretion is advised.

[all4yoi]

𝒥ust a bet﹕hyung line

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ︎︎⚹︎ cw: angst, no fluff (yet), reader is mostly viewed as a loser and nerd, lowercase intended, kinda went overboard with hoon's, reader gets called a bitch once, not proofread!

synopsis﹕after a few months of dating, you find out you were just a bet.

part two !

★ LEE HEESEUNG (wc 0.3k)

you and lee heeseung has been dating for a total of five months, and throughout those months you can confidently say that you were the happiest. he was the perfect boyfriend, his family loved you and so did yours.

today, heeseung promised he would take you on a date after his basketball practice despite your protests on how he should be resting instead. you wouldn't have agreed if it weren't for the fact that he had shot you with his pleading big doe eyes that never fails to make you agree on whatever he asks for. 

so here you were, making your way towards the gymnasium with your bag hanging on your left shoulder. the lack of dribbling and smacking basketball noise from behind the closed doors told you that their practice was done.

entering quietly out of habit, you were about to approach your boyfriend when you overheard his teammates talking to him.

"don't tell me you're still with her?" asked one of boys, an amused smile on his face. heeseung only raised a brow.

"what? you won the bet, you can dump her now. you're ruining our image you know? plus she's a total nerd and loser, you're much better with someone like yunhee." and with only just a few words, you felt your world crashing down.

right, who would date someone like you? you always found it weird, that heeseung just approached you one day in your biology class with the cheekiest smile on his face. the fact that he wouldn't leave you alone until you've agreed to go on a date with him. it all made sense now, why the popular basketball captain suddenly gained interest on the school's "biggest nerd."

"speaking of.." another guy spoke, nodding towards you with a cheeky smile. heeseung turned around only to be met with your glassy eyes.

you didn't move, wanting to hear him defend you. wanting to tell his teammates that you weren't a bet and he actually liked you throughout the months you two have been dating.

his silence said everything and with that you turned away and ran out of the gym.

"shit." he muttered, running after you.

★ PARK JONGSEONG (wc 0.3k)

"i'll pick you up later, okay?" your boyfriend of almost a year said softly through the phone. you've been dating jay since the first week of your first year in uni, others found your relationship weird. maybe because back in high school, jay never and refused to even spare you a glance. he was an asshole who looked at you as if you were the epitome of disgusting.

but the past is in the past now, right?

"okay baby, see you." you reply and put your phone down on your table, knowing that he's usually the one who ends the call.

you go back to the papers scattered on your table. the silence in your room was disturbed by sudden noises in your phone, turning to look, you see that jay hasn't ended the call.

picking your phone up with a smile, you were about to call out for him but a voice stopped you.

"i can't believe you've gone this far dude." you recognized the slightly muffled voice, it was a friend of jongseong's.

"what do you mean?" your boyfriend grumbled. the audio was muffled, you figured he was moving and the phone was in his pocket.

"you're still dating her!" the voice exclaimed, as if amused. "seriously, i didn't think you'd take that bet seriously. fine you win, i'll clean your car for a month. but you've gotta cut it out, you're starting to disgust me." the boy laughed.

before you could hear what your boyfriend would say, you ended the call. your hand was trembling and tears were falling from your eyes unconsciously.

were all those months just a joke to him? were your feelings really worth a free car wash for just a month? were you that unworthy?

jay was an asshole back in high school, you thought he changed. turns out he didn't, you felt like a fool for falling for his antics.

★ SIM JAEYUN (wc 0.3k)

if someone would be asked who you were, they'd all say the same thing. a loner, pathetic loser, and a nobody with a pretty face.

because what was a pretty face if you had no friends and a social life?

you almost believed you would die alone, you were too socially awkward to make friends. so when sim jaeyun, the transferee, approached you with a warm smile and a hand outstretched for a shake, you were beyond shocked.

your relationship went from being block mates, friends, then next thing you knew you two were dating. at first you were reluctant to enter a relationship, scared that it would ruin your friendship, but he insisted you both tried. that was three months ago.

you didn't have any friends, but atleast you had jake.

jake who smiles at you as if you had carved the stars in your hands. jake who would never forget to bring your coffee every morning. he was everything you ever needed. he was it for you, you only hoped he felt the same towards you.

walking through the hallway of the school, you stopped infront of your locker only to be met with a sticky note on it.

HOW LONG CAN JAKE LAST WITH LOSER L/N?

A WEEK : 卌 - 卌 - 卌 - 卌 - III

FIVE MONTHS : 卌 - I

A YEAR : II

Furrowing your brows, you stare at the note as your breathing grew heavy. It was obvious that the paper was old, it had folds and it was only stuck on your locker with a washi tape.

"what are you doing l/n? go on, cast your vote." a mocking voice said from beside you followed by a bunch of laughter. "personally, i thought he'd last a day. i guess i'll vote for five months then." then the hand went and tallied on the five months category.

"what's going on here?" upon hearing your boyfriend's voice, you fled away immediately, not wanting to face him. everytime something good happens in your life, it's always ripped away from you. jake was just like them, you were just a toy for their own entertainment.

★ PARK SUNGHOON (wc 0.5k)

"i'm sorry baby, i really am busy with practice tomorrow." your boyfriend, sunghoon, says in genuine sorry. it was the fifth time you have asked him to meet your parents, who also by the way was so desperate to meet the boy you've been dating for seven months now.

every time you ask him, he's always busy. either with practice, a project, a family matter, or whatever excuse he can come up with. but you always brush it off, knowing he means well and he really is busy as he's an athlete student.

"i'll meet them next week, okay? i promise." that's also the same thing he says everytime too, and once again, you only nod in response.

you and sunghoon met in a physics class. he was clutching his head with a frown on his face as he desperately tried to understand what the professor was going on about.

you remember clearly the way he approached you in the library, a physics book on his left hand as his right scratched his nape. "can.. i noticed- uh, can you help me with this topic?"

that was where your relationship started. you tutored him and helped him improve his grade. when he got an A on the finals, he kissed you on the lips in glee. he was taken aback by his own actions but nevertheless asked you out after.

"i love you," he whispers, pressing a kiss on your temple. "let me get something from my room." you hum in response as he takes his arm that was previously wrapped around you before going up to his room.

you can't help but notice the way his phone was blowing up from beside you.

you weren't the type to snoop around other people's phones, especially your boyfriend. it just felt wrong, you trusted him fully. but the way it kept ringing with text notifications, you just couldn't help it.

looking back to the stairs, you note he isn't back and there was still rummaging noises from his room.

taking his phone, you enter his passcode and read the messages from one of his group chats.

JONGSU

lol don't tell me she asked again.. em ba rrah sing

DAEHYUN

hahah when is she gonna take a hint?? 💀

JOON

you gonna blame her? hoon's been at it for months lmao

DAEHYUN

i actually can't believe he went that far, wasn't it only supposed to be for a month? 🗿

JONGSU

a week actually, but ig that bitch y/n was so easy. yk hoon likes to get his ego fed 💀💀

putting the phone down, you exhaled in disbelief. you took your bag from the floor and threw it over your shoulder and went to the door of his apartment to put your shoes back on.

"baby?" sunghoon emerged from the stairs, looking at you curiously. "you're going already?" he asked, extending an arm towards you but you slapped it away. the tears on your eyes shocking him.

"hey, hey what's wrong?" he tried again but his hand was yet again slapped away.

"i don't want to see you ever again." was the last words you uttered to him (shakily) before leaving his apartment.

[hearts4hughes]

hiii could you do a rafechella where she drags him around to see all the artists, makes him wear glitter, and he pretends to hate it but is obviously so down bad for her? thank u angelll

RAFECHELLA 2025

“no way you’re putting that shit on me.”

rafe sits shirtless on the bed of your airbnb, watching you apply glitter onto your rosy cheekbones.

your bottom lip juts out. “all the hot coachella boyfriends will have it on,” you mumble. “guess you’re not one of them.”

he straightens his spine, cursing under his breath before caving. “whatever, just make sure it’s blue and not some pink girly color.”

you squeal, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. your lipstick stains his tanned skin, but he does not attempt to wipe it off.

you straddle his lap, a compact of glitter in one hand while the other swipes it onto his face. he furrows his brows, muttering complaints about how you’re using too much, but his eyes sparkle with pure admiration and affection.

“perfect,” you stand back to admire your work. “now every bitch in california will want you.”

“well, the only one i want is right here.”

~

coachella hits the second you step through the gates. bass thumping, bodies glittering, sun blazing overhead. you’re practically vibrating with excitement, hand interlocked in rafe’s as you drag him through the crowd.

he’s already brooding in his white tank, aviators on, looking way too serious for someone surrounded by fairy wings and shirtless dudes in mesh.

“okay,” you start, breathless, “we’re hitting mojave first. tyla goes on in fifteen, then we swing by dolab, and then—”

“you said there’d be beer,” he grumbles, cutting you off. “you promised beer.”

you glance over your shoulder, grinning.

“there is beer,” you say like it’s obvious. “but first? vibes.”

he groans dramatically but doesn’t stop walking. you know he won’t.

you’re halfway to the stage when your favorite song starts. you don’t hesitate, just start dancing, right there in the middle of the crowd, your boots kicking up dust, your hands in the air. rafe just watches, arms crossed, trying (and failing) to look unimpressed.

“you’re not even pretending to have fun,” you call over your shoulder, laughing.

“i’m trying to pretend you don’t look hot as fuck,” he mutters, and your stomach flips.

he lets you pull him in, your back pressed to his chest, his hands resting low on your waist. he smells like sunscreen and sweat and a little bit like the lemon vape he swore he wasn’t bringing.

later, in the middle of the set change, you pull your glitter pot out of your bag and swipe another streak across his cheekbone before he can dodge you.

“seriously?” he deadpans. “again?”

you just blow him a kiss.

he doesn’t wipe it off.

~

when the sun sets, the real festival begins. you encounter more cleavage, joints, and glitter than you ever have.

your arms are looped around his neck, bouncing to the beat of the music while he stands behind you, big hands holding your hips as an anchor.

you tip your head back to look at him.

“you’re having fun, huh?”

he lifts a brow. “i’m drunk, deaf, covered in glitter, and my girlfriend’s been screaming in my ear for six hours. what’s not to love?”

you laugh, eyes crinkling, and he leans in closer, lips brushing your ear.

“plus,” he adds, “i get to watch you dance in that tiny little skirt. honestly? best night of my life.”

you gasp, shoving his chest.

“you’re so gross.”

“you made me wear body glitter. i’ve lost all dignity.”

“you never had any.”

“fair.”

the crowd screams just then, and rafe doesn’t even flinch. he just grabs your face and kisses you like he’s been waiting all day to do it.

your hands fist in his shirt. his lips are warm and soft and everything inbetween.

when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, and his voice is quiet, almost shy.

“you look like a walking disco ball and i think i might be in love with you.”

your heart stumbles so hard it nearly faceplants.

“you think?” you say, breathless.

“i know,” he says quickly. “shut up.”

“mmhmm. sure.”

he rolls his eyes and kisses you again anyway.

~

the night ends how everyone should: aching feet, smudged makeup, drunken giggles.

your body’s practically limp against him, forehead resting against the back of his neck, words slurred and sleepy.

“you’re gonna drop me,” you mumble, not even lifting your head.

“never,” he says like it’s a promise. “unless you throw up on me. then all bets are off.”

you let out the tiniest laugh, which fades into a sigh as you close your eyes again. your glitter, makeup, and who-knows-what-else have smeared all over the back of his white tank, but he couldn’t care less. his arms are firm around your thighs, holding you like you weigh nothing. like you’re his favorite thing to carry.

“you’re heavier than you look,” he mutters.

“rude.”

“truthful.”

“i hate you.”

“you love me.”

you hum something that sounds suspiciously like agreement.

your head lols and your breathing softens. he leans his cheek against your arm and lets the quiet settle around you both. he knows you won’t remember half of what he says right now. that’s kind of why he says it.

“you were the prettiest girl there,” he whispers. “and i’d wear glitter every day if it meant ending up with you like this.”

no response. just the slow rise and fall of your chest against his back, the sound of your soft breathing, the occasional clink of bracelets as your arms sway gently around his shoulders.

“you’re my favorite part of all this,” he adds, voice low, almost a secret.

you don’t stir, and he smiles to himself, carrying you the rest of the way home.

[bluepurplepinklock]

"You know I care..."

Itoshi Rin x reader, where you distance yourself from him thinking he has no interest in you, only for him to come running to you.

Rin didn't care. It pained you to accept that, but he really didn't care.

You were always there with him- talking, laughing, teasing and enjoying every moment. But when you realised how he never initiated any of it, you questioned yourself.

Do you annoy him? Is he really not interested? If you somehow disappear, would he even notice?

Given his resting bitch face, irritated eye rolls and annoyed sighs, the answer was clear. And so, you decided with a heavy heart that in order to preserve the little self respect you had left, you will do what is most logical- start distancing yourself from him.

As much as it hurt to not be around him, it was the best course of action to prevent your heart from loving him more only to be told he could never love you back.

You thought Rin wouldn't even notice your absence. The way you no longer attended his matches, or wait for him after class, or walked home with him, or sent him memes in the middle of the night, or steal every second to just be with him a little longer.

You thought he wouldn't bother, you were almost convinced he didn't- until he grabbed your wrist, yanking you away from your group of friends in the corridor.

"What's wrong?" he inquired, pulling you towards the lockers. His eyes bore deep into yours, like he might find the answer swirling behind your startled eyes if he stared intently.

"What?" you blink, taken aback.

"Don't act dumb," he spat, restlessly tapping his finger against his crossed arms, "why are you ignoring me?"

"I'm not," you shrug, trying your best to be nonchalant.

"Don't fuck with me, y/n" he breathed, his sharp gaze pinning you to your spot.

After picking through your words, trying your best not to show your own desperation to just give up on distancing and latch onto him again, you speak, "Stop acting like you care."

Rin's eyes widened, pure unfiltered confusion plastering his face. He blinked a couple times before clutching his head, "Gosh, what's wrong with you."

"Nothing," you shrug, sounding as confident as ever, "you know you never cared, so let me be. Besides, you must be delighted I stopped clinging onto you, annoying you to no ends."

You pivot on your heels, walking away until Rin's strong grasp holds you back and before you know it, he has you pinned against the locker.

His palms plant on either side of your head, into the locker behind. Rin's cold eyes stare right into yours, a blend of hurt and silent rage boiling in their depths, as his lips hover inches away from yours.

"Stop," his voice cracked and you felt his hot breath on your lips, "stop putting words in my mouth. I might have never said it out loud, but you know I care."

You gulp as heat rises to your cheeks when you feel his knee between your legs. He inches closer every second, caging you in yet still giving you enough time to break out if you want.

But you don't. You shove your plans of distancing yourself away because right now, all you want is to be impossibly close to this man.

Rin's lips press against yours, hot and impatient, and you totally give in to the desire in your heart. You drape your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he envelopes you in his arms.

When you break apart, you are shocked to find his eyes damp with the slightest hint of tears.

Rin knew his cold exterior costs him too much. But the moment he felt it would cost him losing you, he couldn't help but smack himself in the head and reach out to you. You knew it. All of it. Just by looking into his wet eyes, the fear of losing you still lingering in them, you knew.

"Don't ever think of leaving me again," he whispered against your lips before capturing them into a kiss once again.

©bluepurplepinklock (Do not copy, steal or translate my work)

[urmum-lovesme]

Bunny (P4)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: I'm not gonna lie I've never been on a golf course so this might be really inaccurate. however #justiceformygirly/n

warnings: mentions of drinking, rude comments, aggressive behaviour, black mailing.

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12) (P13) (P14) (P15) (P16)

The sun was beating down on the manicured greens of Figure Eight’s most exclusive country club as Y/N crouched by her cart, restocking the mini freezer with ice. The scent of freshly cut grass lingered in the air, mixing with the distant sound of polite laughter and the occasional crack of a golf club hitting a ball. She exhaled sharply, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead as she shoved a bottle into place. Working the beverage cart wasn’t the worst job in the world- decent tips, the occasional rich old man slipping her an extra twenty just to call him sir, and best of all, no uniform beyond the white polo and tennis skirt. But the heat, the mind-numbing small talk, the entitled customers was already testing her patience.

With a huff, she straightened and glanced out over the course. A group of men stood a little ways off near the ninth hole, laughing too loudly. She didn’t even need to get closer to know who was there- she could feel him before she even saw him.

Rafe fucking Cameron.

She rolled her eyes and turned back to the cart, shoving a few more bottles onto the shelves with unnecessary force. Of course he was here. He was always here, like a shadow dressed in designer. And judging by the obnoxious laughter echoing across the course, he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. Y/N had spent the past week trying to avoid him, especially after what happened at the club- but clearly, the universe had other plans. And sure enough, as she climbed onto the cart, ready to make her rounds, a sharp whistle cut through the air, snapping her attention toward the very last person she wanted to talk to. Rafe stood a few feet away, golf club resting against his shoulder, that same smug grin tugging at his lips. His eyes flickered over her, slow and deliberate, before he tipped his head toward the cart.

"You gonna do your job, or just sit there like a stuck up bitch?"

Her grip tightened around the steering wheel, teeth grinding together. A few of the other guys chuckled, amused at her expense, and she forced a slow exhale before putting on her best fake smile.

"What can I get you, gentlemen?"

She asked sweetly, voice laced with poison. Rafe exchanged a look with Topper who was already stepping closer, resting his forearm on the top of the cart like he belonged there. "Let’s see…" He dragged the words out, acting as if he were actually thinking about it.

"How about a Johnnie Walker Blue? Neat."

Y/N fought the urge to scoff. Of course he’d order the most expensive whiskey they had. "Sure thing," she chirped, already scheming.

"And for the rest of you?"

The other guys rattled off their orders—beers, vodka sodas, a gin and tonic. She nodded along, pretending to be the perfect accommodating employee, but Y/N barely spared Rafe a glance before turning to the rest of them.

"And you?"

She asks, voice clipped as she looked towards the brunette. Rafe glances down at the selection of bottles lined up on her cart, dragging out the moment. "Hmmm." Her fingers tighten around the bottle as she makes one of the other guys drinks. "Sure, go ahead. Take your time," she says flatly, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. A slow grin spreads across his face at her impatience.

"I’ll have a Bloody Mary."

"A Bloody Mary?"

She scoffs before she can stop herself, staring at him. He speaks, tone nonchalant, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Yeah"

She exhales through her nose, shaking her head, "You don’t even drink shit like that-"

"-Is there a problem?"

Her jaw clenches. Of course, this is exactly why he ordered it- because its the most complicated drink on the menu to make. He knows she’s going to put in the effort for a drink he won’t even finish. He’s just doing it to get under her skin. And the worst part?

It’s working.

Y/N turned away from him, yanking a cup off the shelf with more force than necessary. The ice clattered loudly as she scooped it in, the sound grating against her nerves as she reached for the vodka. The other drinks were easy- simple pours, barely requiring her attention- but this dumbass Bloody Mary… She grabbed the tomato juice with a scowl, biting back the urge to roll her eyes. The thick liquid sloshed into the glass, the deep red already annoying her before she even had to reach for the Worcestershire sauce. A few dashes, a heavy pour of vodka again, a squeeze of lemon she nearly crushed in her frustration at the never ending ingredients.  Behind her, she could feel Rafe’s eyes burning into her back, could practically hear the smirk in his voice when he said,

“You’re taking your time Maybank.”

Her grip on the drink tightened, and she soon found a slow smirk creeping onto her lips as her fingers curled around the Tabasco.

One, two, three, four, five, six—

She lost count of the number of shakes she gave it, but the deep red liquid swirled ominously in the glass, promising nothing but regret. A quick stir, a squeeze of lemon once more, and she shoved the celery stalk inside, pushing it down so hard that the juice nearly sloshed over the rim. Turning back, she plastered on her sweetest smile and placed the drink down in front of him with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Your drink”

She said brightly, tilting her head as she batted her lashes at him. Rafe eyed her, then the Bloody Mary, before lifting it lazily to his lips. He took a long, slow sip; the burn of all that extra Tabasco, the overwhelming taste of tomato and spice hitting his tongue like a slap, but there’s no way in hell he’d give her the satisfaction of a reaction- instead letting the awful taste settle, all while maintaining eye contact with her. His jaw flexed slightly, the faintest twitch of his lip as he smacked his lips, 

“Mmm- Perfect.”

She’s fuming. She knows it tastes like absolute shit, knows it should have him coughing or gagging, but instead, he’s sitting there acting like he just ordered the best damn drink of his life. He lifts the glass toward her, a smug glint in his eyes as he adds, 

“You should try it”

She glares up at him, fingers tight around the cold cup as he presses it into her hand. He’s close- too close- his broad frame looming over her, one hand braced against the top of the cart as he watches her with that insufferable smirk. He murmurs, voice low and taunting.

“Drink it”

Y/N hesitates for half a second, but she refuses to let him win. So, she lifts the glass to her lips and takes a sip- too big of a sip. The spice immediately scorches her tongue, searing all the way down her throat. She barely suppresses a cough, blinking rapidly as her eyes well up, the heat hitting her like a slap. Rafe tilts his head, watching every flicker of discomfort with smug amusement.

“Aww—what?” His voice is mocking, dripping with fake sympathy as he leans in just a little more.

“You don’t like it?”

She swallows thickly, willing herself not to react as she forces the glass back into his chest, her jaw clenched so tight it aches,

“Go fuck yourself Cameron.”

And now he’s looking down at her, eyes flickering over her face, dark with something unreadable as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.

“Such a naughty mouth Y/N.”

She doesn't to look away, refuses to give him the satisfaction of seeing her falter. Her jaw tightens, other hand curling into fists at her sides, but she holds his gaze, a silent challenge burning between them. Then he moves, reaching for the cup, fingers brushing against hers as he takes it back—too fast, too careless- and the red liquid sloshes over the rim, splattering against her white polo and tennis skirt.

She sucks in a sharp breath, eyes snapping downward as the cold, sticky drink seeps into the fabric, staining it instantly. A drop lands on his own polo, but he doesn’t seem to care- doesn’t even glance at it. Her gaze flicks back up, burning with rage, but he’s already watching her, already grinning, amused by the whole thing. His voice is anything but apologetic.

“Oops.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

She mutters, stepping back instinctively, eyes darting down to the spreading stain. Rafe, meanwhile, just watches her, amusement flickering in his gaze as he sets the now almost-empty cup back on the cart. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, before he tuts. “Look at that,” he muses, eyes dragging over her ruined uniform.

“Messy, messy.”

“You’re such a dick.”

She clenches her jaw, nostrils flaring as she glares up at him. Rafe just smirks at her stubbornness, gaze flickering between her eyes before dropping, taking his time to lazily drink in the sight of her, now disheveled and stained because of him. Then, he exhales sharply, like he’s made some kind of decision. “Well,” he drawls,

“you should probably go clean that up- wouldn’t want to look unprofessional.”

God, he was insufferable.

Y/N's eyes narrow as she dabs at the stain on her polo with a tissue, but it’s no use. The red liquid has already seeped deep into the fabric, leaving a glaring mark. She sighs in frustration, bending over to wipe the mess off her shoes, her white skirt riding up her thighs. She can feel a set of eyes on her, Topper and Kelce standing a few feet away, their gazes lingering and she rolls her eyes, already irritated. But the way they’re elbowing each other and snickering only makes her more uncomfortable.

Before she can fully straighten up, she feels a sudden, sharp slap against her ass. Y/N jumps, her body stiffening as a rush of heat floods her face. Her head whips around, her eyes flashing with fury.

"What's wrong with you?!" 

She snaps, her voice sharp as she scoffs, brushing it off as best she can, but her face is red with embarrassment and fury. Rafe's staring at Kelce now, his gaze practically burning through him. Kelce’s smugness falters for a second, the cocky grin fading slightly as he tries to meet Rafe’s eyes, but he can feel the threat hanging in the air. Without a word, Y/N steps over to the cart, her fingers already reaching for the wheel. Yet as she goes to grab it, she hears Rafe’s voice, low and commanding.

"Hey—hey!"

He grabs the wheel himself, his grip tight and unforgiving. Y/N looks up at him, confused and a little frustrated. He demands, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Where are you going?"

"Really? I'm covered in tomato juice, Rafe," she snaps, voice dripping with sarcasm. "What do you think I’m doing? Going back to get changed."

Rafe narrows his eyes, still looking at her with that dead, intense glare, and it’s almost like he’s seeing right through her. "Well, you got your shitty drink on me," he says, his voice dripping with irritation.

"Excuse me, I did that?"

Y/N blinks, incredulous. Her eyes flicker down to the tiny splodge of red on his polo, her expression shifting into an exaggerated roll of her eyes as she looks back up at him. Rafe’s jaw tightens, but his gaze doesn’t falter as he stands there, silently assessing her, his posture rigid with tension.

"Yeah, well," he mutters, clearly not done with the situation, "drive me back. I need to change."

Y/N glares at him, shaking her head. "What? No."

She can't even protest any further as Rafe steps around her, sliding into the cart, and sitting down beside her with that infuriatingly casual air, like he’s the one in control. His leg bumps hers as he settles, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if the whole thing is just a game. Y/N glares at him as he casually sits down beside her in the cart, crossing his arms and leaning back like he’s completely at ease.

"Uh- get out?"

She says, her voice sharp with frustration. Rafe doesn’t even flinch, just looks over at her with a lazy smirk.

"Get out"

"I hope that’s not how you talk to all your customers, Maybank."

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

Y/N’s eyes widen in disbelief, she’s seething, the smell of the tomato juice stain on her uniform only adding to the frustration. Her hand clenches around the wheel as she tries to keep her composure, but it’s hard when Rafe is sitting there, acting like he owns the place.

"Better get going, or that stain will stick”

He adds casually, the smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth. Y/N’s jaw clenches, and she takes a deep breath, trying to suppress the urge to snap back at him. But with the tension thick in the air, there’s no ignoring him. She huffs, gripping the wheel even tighter. “Fine,” she mutters under her breath, eyes flicking to him before she starts the cart and drives off, the sound of the engine almost masking the anger simmering between them.

Rafe leans back, perfectly comfortable in his spot, not a care in the world, while Y/N fights the urge to punch him in his stupid fucking face. Her eyes stay on the road, trying to ignore the irritating presence next to her, but she knows this is far from over. The cart bumps along the grass of the golf course, the soft hum of the engine doing nothing to ease the tightness in the air. Y/N’s hands are tight around the wheel, her grip rigid as she focuses on driving, trying to ignore the heat from Rafe’s presence beside her. Her body’s tense, her muscles stiff under the weight of his gaze.

Rafe, on the other hand, seems perfectly relaxed, like he’s completely comfortable with the silence stretching between them. But he’s not looking at the horizon or the passing course; no, his eyes are on her. Slowly, they drift over her face, studying her every feature with an intensity that makes her skin crawl. Then, his gaze lowers, tracing down her body with lazy attention, stopping at her thighs—bare beneath the drink-stained skirt. Y/N’s pulse picks up, and she doesn't even process it, but she feels Rafe’s hand is on her thigh, resting just above her knee.

The touch is so casual, but it makes her freeze. Her body stiffens in shock, and her eyes snap to his, wide and full of surprise.

"Rafe—"

"Shhh, relax"

He murmurs, his voice low and slow, the words cutting through the tension like a hot knife. His fingers rub gently up and down her thigh, almost as though a sweet gesture, but the touch feels possessive, like he’s marking her without saying it aloud.

"What- What the fuck are you doing?"

She asks, her voice betraying a hint of uncertainty, and every part of her wants to pull away. He squeezes her thigh lightly, almost teasingly, and his gaze doesn’t leave her as he speaks.

“Well I pay for your services, don’t I?”

His words are heavy with meaning, his tone casual, but there’s an edge to it that makes her stomach flip. Y/N scoffs, a mix of disbelief and anger rising inside her.

“Yeah, wrong club”

She bites back, trying to push him off, but the way his hand stays there, the way his fingers grip her just a little too firmly, a little too high, keeping her in place.

Her heart races, the air around them charged, and it’s clear that neither of them is backing down. Y/N’s pulse thunders in her ears, and her breath catches in her throat. Rafe’s hand is still on her thigh, just a little too far up, the warmth of his fingers on her bare thigh making her feel exposed. She grips the wheel tighter, her knuckles going white, the engine’s soft hum doing nothing to drown out the sound of her rapid heartbeat. The cart lurches over a bump, and it snaps her attention back to the road, but Rafe’s hand doesn’t move—his fingers squeezing once more. She feels a rush of heat, but the anger bubbles just as fast, rising in her chest.

"Get your hand off me"

She says through gritted teeth, her voice more forceful this time. She forces her gaze ahead, trying not to look at him, trying not to react to how his hand is still there, how it’s still so present. But Rafe just smirks, leaning in closer, his breath ghosting over her ear as he whispers,

“Make me.”

His voice is laced with a challenge, with something dark that makes her skin prickle, makes her feel like she’s walking a dangerous line between hatred and something else. Something she’s not ready to confront.

Her jaw clenches, and for a split second, she contemplates slapping his hand away. But then she feels it—the sudden weight of his gaze as it shifts to her lips, lingering for a heartbeat too long. The chemistry between them, that dangerous spark, shifts just a little. She knows he’s pushing her, testing her limits. But there's also this magnetism pulling her toward him, something about the way he’s looking at her drives her crazy.

"Cut it out Cameron"

She warns, voice barely above a whisper, but it’s a warning that means nothing when Rafe just chuckles and moves his hand upward almost hitting the edge of her panties.

Then, without warning, she jerks the wheel to the side, sending the cart veering slightly off course toward the edge of the course.

It’s a quick move, almost out of desperation, as if she’s trying to shake off the way he’s affecting her. The cart jerks again, and Rafe has to steady himself hand letting go of her thigh to hold onto the dashboard.

"You really want to play that game, huh?"

He muttered, eyes narrowed. Y/N doesn’t know what she’s doing, but all she can think of is how badly she wants him out of her space, out of her head. She doesn’t care about the stain on her skirt anymore; she’s thinking about the best way to get a thousand miles away from him.

The cart bumps back onto the paved path leading to the club, and she slows it as they approach the building, her fingers twitching on the wheel, still burning from the heat of the moment. Rafe leans back against the seat, but there’s still that smug look in his eyes, that feeling of control he loves so much. He glances at her, as she gets out the cart, he slips out after her taking in her expression, the way she refuses to meet his gaze, and then says,

“I need a change of shirt.”

“Okay”

She replies flatly, her tone as cold as she can make it. Y/N doesn’t even flinch, still focused on the path ahead. Rafe steps closer, closing the space between them with slow, deliberate movements, he leans down slightly, his voice low and insistent.

“So... get me a shirt.”

“I don’t see how you're my problem”

She shoots back, her voice dripping with sarcasm, finally looking up at him, her arms crossing over her chest. Rafe doesn’t step back, doesn’t even give her a second to breathe before he takes another step forward, crowding her space.

“Well, I am, so fucking find me a change of top”

He demands, his tone sharp, full of that same cocky authority. Y/N’s lips curl into a sarcastic smile even though she’s seething inside. She rolls her eyes, turning her head away just enough to make it clear how little she cares.

“Sure Mr. Cameron, let me get that for you”

She mocks, voice dripping with fake sweetness. He can't even say anything else because she turns on her heel and strides toward the club, walking away with that same attitude as she leaves him standing there with his challenge unanswered.

Yet as she's walking away, she feels the sharp tug on her arm, her body jerking back as Rafe’s fingers wrap around her bicep, pulling her toward him. She turns, ready to snap at him again, but before she can open her mouth he scolds,

“Don’t walk away from me.”

His voice is low, almost a growl, and there’s something dark and angry simmering under the words. Y/N’s eyes flash, but she stands her ground, lifting her chin as she spits back, her annoyance clear.

“Or what?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, a vein at his temple throbbing with the effort to keep his temper in check. He doesn’t want to be this pissed off, but the way she’s treating him- like she doesn’t give a shit about him- it drives him mad. It’s like a challenge, and he’s not backing down from it, even though he knows he’s been just as bad. His voice comes out seething,

“Or I’ll complain to your manager.”

At that, something shifts in Y/N’s expression- her eyes narrow, defiance flickering for just a second. She can’t afford to lose her job, not like this.

Not over him.

She snatches her arm back, her frustration visible, and for a brief second, the fight in her dies down. She exhales, the anger draining from her posture as she steps back, eyes flicking toward the staff quarters.

“C’mon”

She mutters under her breath, quieter now, and there's a weariness in her voice that wasn’t there before. She’s not giving him the satisfaction of being totally submissive, but her tone has changed—it's more resigned than anything.

Rafe watches her for a beat, still standing a little too close, but this time, he doesn’t say anything. His eyes follow her as she walks through the club, her movements brisk as she heads toward the staff quarters. There’s a flicker of surprise in his chest, and for a moment, he considers backing off, letting her go, but something about how she’s reacting entices him So, he follows her.

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

Y/N walks briskly through the club, the sound of her shoes clicking against the polished floors echoing in the quiet hall. Rafe follows closely behind, his presence heavy in the air as they make their way toward the staff quarters. She doesn't glance back at him, but she can feel the heat of his gaze boring into her.

They pass a few of the staff lockers, the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights above the only sound as they walk down the narrow aisle of the staff area. Y/N moves with purpose, each step holding no sign of the unease she’s feeling on the inside. She turns the corner at the end of the hall, and they reach the large lost and found. It’s a mess- shirts, jackets, random pieces of clothing, and forgotten items strewn across the bins, piles of things that have clearly been left behind by members and staff who aren’t quite as neat as they should be. There’s no order, no system, just a jumble of lost things waiting to be reclaimed. She gestures to it, voice laced with that same sarcasm she’s always got, but with an edge of frustration creeping in.

“There.”

She motions to a polo shirt thrown over a pile of forgotten jackets. Rafe takes a step forward, his eyes scanning the pile. He doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking back to her for a moment, sizing her up. There’s something about the way she’s handling this, the way she’s pretending to be completely unaffected, that gets under his skin. He doesn’t like it- not because she’s hiding something, but because it’s like she’s challenging him to break her composure. He grabs the shirt off the top of the pile, holding it out in front of him like he’s completely entitled to it. The material is rough, not the kind of quality he’s used to, and he sneers at it for a moment.

“This is what you got for me?” he mutters, voice dripping with mock disbelief, “I didn’t realise I was getting leftovers.”

“Not my fault you spilled tomato juice on yourself.”

Y/N crosses her arms, her body language unreadable as she leans against the nearby counter. She rolls her eyes, eyes flicking over his shoulder for a moment, clearly unimpressed by his dramatics. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watches her with that cold smirk, but then his hand reaches out, his fingers brushing against the fabric of the shirt with exaggerated slowness.

“I thought you were supposed to take care of me- Y/N”

He says, voice low and purposeful, the undercurrent of something more in his tone now. Y/N shoots him a quick look, her eyes narrowed, frustration simmering. She stands up straighter, ready to walk off, but she’s not backing down.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I am serious.”

He steps closer, his face unreadable, but there's something about his presence, the way he stands there so close, that makes her freeze for just a moment. Rafe's gaze unwavering as he watches her, looking for any crack in her cool exterior. Y/N’s pulse quickens, but she’s not going to let him see that. She stands her ground, even though every instinct is telling her to get away from him. He tilts his head slightly, his voice low and deliberate.

“You really don’t care, do you?”

“About what, exactly?”

Y/N arches an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sarcastic smile. Rafe takes a slow step forward, the proximity between them shrinking. He’s invading her space, pushing against her comfort zone, but she’s still not backing down, she won't appear weak- she's not weak.

“About making sure I’m... taken care of”

He says, his words hanging heavy in the air. She exhales sharply, rolling her eyes again and shes surprise they've not fallen out of their sockets yet.

“I’m not your fucking personal assistant, Rafe.”

“-but you sure as hell act like it”

There's a flicker of amusement in his eyes, like he enjoys seeing her fight back, his hand's still gripping the shirt, his fingers brushing against her arm lightly as if testing her reaction. Y/N’s breath catches, but she doesn’t flinch. Instead, she meets his eyes, the defiance still strong in her stance. She leans in just a fraction,

“And what? You think that means you can boss me around?”

Without warning, Rafe moves, stepping into her space so suddenly that she has no choice but to press her back against the lockers, the cold metal digging into her skin. His large frame looms over her, his hand bracing against the locker next to her head. He’s so close, she can feel his breath against her cheek. For a second, she freezes, eyes wide as she realises just how trapped she is- physically and mentally. She looks up at him and his eyes are already fixed on her, his expression unreadable, almost cold.

“Maybe I do”

He says, his voice now barely a whisper, but it feels like it’s cutting straight through her. There’s something in his eyes- something dark, predatory, like he’s daring her to make a move. Her chest tightens. She hates that this proximity makes her heart race, but she refuses to let him know that. She’s not going to let him see that he’s rattling her.

“And if I don’t want to be bossed around?”

She challenges, her voice shaky, but she’s still holding her ground. Rafe’s gaze flickers for a moment, then he moves even closer, his knee brushing lightly against her thigh as he adjusts his position. Her breath catches again, her body tensing instinctively, but he’s not done yet. His voice drops even lower as he leans in, his words like a private threat just for her.

“You’ll learn to deal with it, Maybank.”

She almost flinches at how intimate it sounds- like there’s more than just the words hanging between them. It makes her nauseous- she’s so close to him now, she can’t tell where he ends and she begins.

Then, suddenly, her phone buzzes in her pocket, breaking the tension like a gunshot.

She takes the opportunity to glance down, breaking eye contact with him just for a moment. It’s a message from her manager. She sighs, her shoulders sagging as the reality of her situation starts to settle back in. This isn’t a game. She can’t afford to get caught up in whatever power struggle Rafe’s trying to pull. Without looking back at him, she pushes her self away from the lockers speaking out sharply.

“You’ve got your shirt. Now get out.”

Rafe doesn’t move right away. He stands there, staring at her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, Y/N thinks she’s won their little silent quarrel, but something about the way he looks at her- dark, calculating- tells her she hasn’t. Finally, he steps back, his gaze lingering on her like he’s trying to figure her out. His voice, when it comes, is dripping with something both mocking and serious.

“You might want to work on your customer service skills, Maybank.”

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

Y/N steps out of the club, exhaustion settling into her bones after a grueling double shift. The cool night air hits her like a breath of fresh air, and she sighs, stretching her arms overhead. She’s almost to the parking lot when she hears a familiar voice calling her name.

"Hey, Y/N!"

Sofia's voice is warm, and Y/N turns to see her friend walking towards her with a bright smile. They meet halfway, and she smiles, grateful for the distraction. Sofia pulls her into a hug, the kind of hug that only close friends give.

"Hey, Sof," Y/N says, her voice a little tired but genuine, "how’ve you been?"

"Good, just the usual stuff but you look like you could use a nap," Sofia jokes, pulling back to get a better look at Y/N, her eyes narrowing playfully.

"Double shift today?"

"Yeah, you know, Can’t resist the overtime."

Y/N chuckles lightly, shrugging. Sofia grins but then her expression softens.

"I saw you with Rafe earlier…"

"Oh, uh, yeah. He's just being a bitch as usual..."

Y/N's heart skips a beat, and she immediately tries to brush it off, her gaze flicking away. She trails off, not wanting to get into it. It’s not like she owes Sofia an explanation, but it feels weird to talk about Rafe. She adds quickly, forcing a smile.

"It’s nothing"

"You sure?’"

Sofia tilts her head with a small smile but she can sense the shift in Y/N’s mood. Y/N exhales sharply, trying to hide the heat creeping up her neck. "It’s really not a big deal," she says, voice a little too sharp.

"Just a… a thing. Nothing worth getting into."

Sofia watches her for a moment, her eyes searching Y/N's face. "Alright," she says, though the tone in her voice suggests she’s not entirely convinced, "But just so you know, people talk. I’m not saying you need to explain yourself, but one of the girls said you went to the locker rooms and I know that doesn't mean—"

Y/N cuts her off with a soft but firm laugh. "Sof, it’s really nothing. He’s Rafe Cameron, I don't want anything to do with him, relax. Anyways- I’m not going to waste my time worrying about whatever it is other people gossip about."

Sofia doesn't push further, but her concern lingers in her eyes. "Okay, okay," she relents, nodding.

"You're not mad right?"

"What!? No- of course I'm not. Don’t worry."

Y/N gives her a half-smile, trying to look confident. The two share a brief, comfortable silence before Sofia raises an eyebrow.

"You heading home now? Need a ride?"

Y/N shakes her head, glancing back at the club, "No I'm good I drove- besides I know when I get back I’m crashing tonight for sure, so I doubt I could keep up any good convos right now."

Sofia smiles knowingly, "Alright, well, if you need anything, you know where to find me."

“I know- I love you get home safe.”

“I love you too! Text me when you're back”

Y/N waves at the girl, and the two of them part ways, Sofia heading off into the night while Y/N walks toward her car, a heavy feeling settling in her chest. Her mind drifts back to the Chinese leftovers sitting in the fridge at home, wondering if JJ got to them before she had a chance. As she gets closer to her car, her pace slows, and she sees a figure leaning against it.

Her heart skips a beat, and instinctively, she hesitates.

It’s late.

She’s alone.

She knows better than to approach someone like that without caution. She stays still for a moment, the feeling of being vulnerable creeping over her, before she takes a few steps forward, straining her eyes to make out the person.

Then she sees it’s him.

Her stomach drops, and she mutters under her breath, "What the-?" She’s always been a decent person, always tried to do the right thing. But then there’s Rafe- always showing up at the most inconvenient times. "Seriously?" she says, her voice low, laced with frustration as she walks around to the opposite side of the car.

"What do you want?"

She shoves her bag in the backseat, the motion sharp, as her thoughts race. She can feel his presence by the driver's side, looming, as if he’s waiting for something. He’s standing there, leaning casually, but she can tell he’s not entirely sober- his eyes are blown, his posture sloppy, like he's a little drunk and definitely high. She rounds the back of the car and stops just short of him, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Rafe doesn’t move, his eyes locked on her with that same unreadable expression.

"Why the hell are you here?"

She mutters, now visibly annoyed, but not completely surprised. Was his tormenting the morning not enough for him? Of course, he’d show up when she’s least expecting it, and definitely when she least wants him around. Rafe steps closer, his presence overpowering the air between them. His eyes are half-lidded, and his stance is far too relaxed for the late hour and the situation they’re in. He tilts his head as he studies her, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "So," he starts, voice low and a little too smooth for Y/N's liking,

"You headed to the club tonight? Gonna work that shift of yours... ?"

His words are dripping with something- teasing, playful, but also a little too sharp, like he knows exactly how to push her buttons. She steps back instinctively, glaring at him, but he doesn’t give her any space. He steps forward again, this time almost closing the gap completely. She pushes his chest, trying to push him away.

"Get your fucking act together, Rafe. I don’t have time for this shit."

Her voice is tight, forced out through gritted teeth. But he’s not having it. Instead, he steps in even closer, his hand brushing her arm, an unspoken challenge in his touch. The air between them is thick with tension, and she can feel it creeping under her skin. He’s toying with her. Again. “Come on, Y/N,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand reaches up to rest lightly on her waist, and he gives her a slight, mocking smile.

“Don’t make things complicated”

“Get off me, Rafe”

She snaps, shoving his hand away harder, but he’s not backing off. Before she can react, he steps around her, his movement quick and decisive. With one smooth motion, he flips them around, so now she’s trapped- her back against the cold metal of her car, his body closing the space between them. Her breath hitches at the sudden shift, and she looks up at him, eyes wide with a mix of anger and disbelief.

“Where r'you going?”

He mumbles, his voice low and threatening, but there’s something in it that sounds almost possessive, like he’s done playing games. Y/N’s heart is racing, but she doesn’t show it. She tries to push him off again, her hands firmly against his chest, but his body is solid, unmoving. She glares up at him, her chest heaving with each breath, but he’s not giving her an inch.

“You’re fucking insane”

She spits, her voice barely audible, but laced with venom. Rafe’s hand slides down to her waist, his grip firm but possessive, as he leans in closer, closing the distance between them. The proximity is overwhelming, his body heat radiating off him. His other hand rests casually on his hip, his gaze dark as he looks down at her, an almost predatory gleam in his eyes.

“Come on, Y/N,” he murmurs, voice thick with an almost smug satisfaction. “Come home with me- be my little dancer." His words are dripping with insinuation, the suggestion hanging heavy in the air, thick with promise and something darker beneath the surface.

“I’ll pay you well... you won’t regret it.”

Y/N freezes for a moment, shock and outrage flickering across her face. Her hands which were instinctively pressing against his chest, trying to keep some distance between them, faltered slightly. Is that really what he thought of her? The audacity of what he just said is enough to make her blood boil, the anger rising up in her chest like fire.

Her hand swings up and cracks across his cheek.

The sound of the slap echoes in the night air, sharp and satisfying. Rafe stumbles back in surprise, his eyes widening in disbelief, his drunken haze momentarily shaken. Y/N, her breath coming in short, angry gasps, doesn’t give him a chance to react. She yanks open the car door, the movement quick and jerky as she turns on her heel to face him one last time.

“I’m not a fucking prostitute”

She spits out, her voice low and venomous, the words sharp as daggers. She slams the door behind her with a force that makes the whole car shudder, her heart racing in her chest, the adrenaline coursing through her. The silence that follows is deafening, and all she can hear is the ringing in her ears.

Rafe stands there for a moment, he’s drunk, but even through the haze of alcohol, something in his chest tightens as he watches as she drives off, the sting of her slap still lingering on his skin.

taglist: @xoxosblogsblog @moonywhisp3rs @i-love-gvf @my-name-is-baby @ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @mariamadison6-blog @rafecameronswhoore @lovelytoomusic @rafesgurl @mysticbby2009 @vanessa-rafesgirl @silkenthusiasts @partygirl14 @amterasuu @xoxo-ada @icaqttt @ivysprophecy @mauvesmax @larema121 @ggraycelynn @emeloyy @pluviophilis @slut-4-gojo @willowpains @wtfisastiles @rafecqmeronslove @pleasstory @lolasangelz @beau-dabomb @psychocitylights @constantsadness @rhianthebest @emmiesummers @sfotiegiuls @ggraycelynn @larema121 @emeloyy @pluviophilis @urgoldens @insominagirlss @urfavoritebrunette007 @mauvesmax @miniiminie@kythefangirl25 @niyalovests @scream4mami @aizawawify @prettybabyyyy@barbiefan14 @keennerdslover @rafeysslut @jennieonline @sugak00kie03 @hannieskzzz

[unknownsvoid]

BLLK BOYS AND THE "GIVE A BITCH SOME HEAD OR SUM' TREND"!!

✮⋆˙ | featuring: isagi yoichi, meguru bachira, hyoma chigiri, reo mikage, nagi seishiro, rin itoshi.

✮⋆˙ | cw: suggestive/crack themes! agedup!bllk boys. fem!reader. no proof read... the usual.

Isagi Yoichi!

You and Isagi are lying on his bed. The two of you scrolling through tiktok. You were beginning to get bored out your ass and the sound repeating "give a bitch some head or sum' " was getting slightly annoying, but like in a good way. It's like an itch to be fair and all the videos of girlfriends playing the sound around their own boyfriends and their reactions were priceless, earning the occasional giggle from you.

You wanted to try on Isagi, who's head was currently resting on your lap. You click the "+" and press on the record button, the sound immediately playing.

It's him two to five business days to release before he pulls his gaze away from his phone to look you in the eye. His cheeks were ruby red it was so funny. He looked at your phone then back at you and said, "Right now?"

At this point, you were dying of laughter and ended the video. This caused Isagi to frown, "Were you joking?" Your smile dropped when you see the bulge in his pants. You give him a knowing smirk, "Not anymore apparently!"

Bro, you've never seen a frown turn upside down so fast.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Meguru Bachira!

You and Bachira was just chilling. You were orginally watching a movie but it got boring quick, causing the two of you to go on your phones doing fuck all.

The trend was taking over your for you page like crazy and you took it as a sign. Hitting record and letting the sound play, side eyeing him a bit with a smile.

Unlike Isagi, Bachira looks at you immediately. A toothy smile forming on his face immediately and his eyes glimmering in excitement, "Do it want it right now?"

You stop recording and smile at him, "You're eager, hm?"

"Who wouldn't be!? Now spread your legs!!!"

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵ Hyoma Chigiri!

You were hanging out in your room, scrolling on your phone while Chigiri was fucking about with his hair. As per usual!!

You were starting to get bored and wanted to play around with your girlfriend boyfriend. You've been planning to try out this trend since the first time you ever saw it and you planned to do it today, when he decided to come over.

You hit record and wait for his reaction, forcing your laughter back as much as possible. When he notices, he pauses, looks at you and smirks. "I've seen that trend already. You really are corny."

You stop recording and give him a dirty look, "You're literally the fun police. Like damn, could've shut the fuck up and gave me some damn head, but noooo, you wanna give me attitude."

"Oh dear. Dare I say I stroked your ego?"

You huff at his words, "Shut the fuck up and eat me out already, princess."

"Alright, alright, my prince."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Reo Mikage!

You are in his room, which is massive, by the way. No surprise, he's a nepo baby. He left his room to do whatever the fuck he was doing so you left by yourself in his room, flicking through tiktok. The sound "give a bitch some head or sum'" playing five times in a row on your for your page.

You giggle. Maybe when he comes back into his room, you should try the trend out on him? You've seen various of partners trying it on each other and you can't help but chuckle each time another video pops up on your phone! You just need to wait for him to come back.

You wait around five more minutes until you hear his footsteps. You rush to click on the cross. and as soon as he opens the door, you start recording. You smile "innocently" at him as the sound starts playing, and he just stares at you with wide eyes before laughing, "I just walked in, baby. You want it right now?"

"Mhmmm!"

"Okay, pretty."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵ Nagi Seishiro!

Nagi LOCK OFF was in the middle of gaming, typical of him, after leaving you two's cuddle session and leaving you - by yourself - in his bed. To fix your boredom after being abandoned by Nagi, you watch a series of tiktoks. How rude. You've seen the trend going around and honestly think now would be a perfect time to seek revenge for your lazy boyfriend leaving you alone on his bed.

You play the sound and wait for him to realise. Once he does, he pauses whatever game he was currently playing and spins on his gaming chair to look at you, lazily blinking once. Twice.

"Mkay... lay down on the bed."

You stop recording and tsk, "Don't think you deserve it after leaving our cuddles for your stupid game."

"Whatever. Lemme make it up to you then." "Fineeeeee." "Good. Now just spread your legs already. All this talking instead of moving is such a hassle."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Rin itoshi!

You both are in his room. He was taking notes of how to do better in football/soccer in his little notebook, which you find ridiculously adorable, and even teased him multiple times about it, which he also shut down.

The silence was comfortable, but soon, flicking about on your phone got boring and you were really desperate to try out this trend that has been bombarding your fyp lately.

So, that's what you decide to do, hitting play, and the sound quickly breaks the silence between you two. He stops writing, gives you a HUGE side eye before doing one of those horror movies ass turns, slowly turning his head to look at you with a dirty look plastered on his face.

You couldn't hold back your laugh anymore, wheezing at his reaction, which he replies by shaking his head in disapproval and closing his notebook to look at you properly, "You're seriously that immature?"

"I- hah! I cant- pffft- breathe! Oh my god!"

"Whatever..." He pauses, "Spread your legs..."

Your laughter eases up a bit and you give him a teasing smile, "Oh? Hopping straight to it, Mister Itoshi?"

"You're so annoying. Just do as I say already."

"Yes sir."

you want a part two? -> here you go, sugar plum fairy cake!