#but I never do? I keep letting myself get distracted????

[sserpente]

Checkmate

“You know, maybe we should play strip chess instead. I think I would be motivated to win if I could get you naked!”

 “Strip chess?” Sylus’ eyebrows shot up. He blinked, observing you wordlessly for a moment. “Very well. Let’s take this up a notch. You lose one piece of clothing for every piece you lose in the game.”

A/N: What’s this? Another red-eyed, pale-skinned and silver-haired morally grey man? Might as well.

Words: 1386 Warnings: smut

You made it a point to sigh. Loudly. With your chin propped up on your elbows, you were sitting across from Sylus on the bed in your pyjamas, a chessboard in between you creating more distance from him than you wanted.

“Are you going to hyperventilate, kitten? This is the third time you’re sighing like this.”

“This is boring, Sylus.”

“Ah, you didn’t hear me complaining after ten long rounds of Kitty Cards, now did you?” He didn’t look up as he spoke. His crimson eyes were fixed on the chequered game board but his voice was not without that teasing tone that always drove you mad and never failed to turn you into a horny mess. Especially now, with how casually he was sitting on the bed with crossed legs and clad in comfortable clothes.

“The chess pieces aren’t meowing at me, it’s not the same. You know I’m bad at chess.”

“Then you’ll get better.” He made his move—and unfortunately, it didn’t mean much to you. You barely remembered the names of all the different pieces but you hadn’t wanted to turn him down when he asked for a round. Time spent with him was rare due to your different sleep schedules, and your visits to the N109 zones were even rarer. Things would change soon. But until then, you’d soak up every minute you could get with him. Even if he wanted to play chess. Even if it was boring as fuck.

“It’s your turn, kitten.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m thinking.” Another sigh. This time, Sylus chuckled in response.

“How do I move this piece again?” You pointed at the chess piece resembling a horse, tilting your head innocently.

“Kitten…” Oh, now that was a reproachful kitten.

“I forgot! I’m sorry, I can’t help it but chess is so boring.” You paused, thinking. “You know, maybe we should play strip chess instead. I think I would be motivated to win if I could get you naked!”

“Strip chess?” Sylus' eyebrows shot up. He blinked, observing you wordlessly for a moment. “Very well. Let’s take this up a notch. You lose one piece of clothing for every piece you lose in the game.”

You frowned and looked down on yourself. Perhaps you should have thought this through first. Sylus was wearing a light jacket, socks, a shirt, a pair of trousers, and likely underwear. You on the other hand had only two pieces of clothing on you—a silk pyjama set with the night sky and embroidered stars on it, a gift from him the first time you returned to the N109 zone to stay with him for a few days. It had been waiting for you on the king-size bed in the guest room. You almost chuckled. You’d never slept in that bed until this day.

“Having second thoughts?” he mused.

You shook your head. “No. Let’s keep playing. It was my turn, yeah?”

He blinked once as if to say yes, his expression so amused you wanted to sigh yet again. This time, however, you really did put some effort in. If you beat him, he’d be sitting across from you naked. So if you moved your pawn over there…

“I’m done.”

“Are you sure?”

“What do you mean ‘are you sure’? Don’t make me second-guess myself!”

“Very well…” He moved another piece himself and chuckled. “There goes your knight, sweetie.”

“Ugh! What?”

“Come now. You set up the rules yourself.”

You glared at him and aggressively took your pyjama top off to throw it at his face where it landed with a thud before falling into his lap. His amused grin was even more irritating than the complexity of this silly game. He had the reflexes to catch the piece of clothing. He could have. He simply decided not to. Ugh.

“There. Happy?”

You had hopes that sitting in front of him topless would distract him enough to make a mistake but who were you kidding? Even if he did make a mistake, you were nowhere near skilled enough to beat him at this game. Sylus knew that very well. You’d just hoped that you could snatch up enough of his pieces to see him naked again.

But the stern leader of Onychinus was nothing if not composure personified. He didn’t even bat an eyelash at your half-naked form even though you could clearly tell it did not leave him unaffected. His crimson eyes raked over your breasts and your hardening nipples due to the cool temperatures in his bedroom.

A few moments later though, he moved another piece. Sylus chuckled. “Checkmate.”

You gasped, your eyes darting back down to the chessboard. “What? How?”

“You’ve been focused on your queen too much. Now your king has nowhere left to go. See?” He pointed at the two pieces that cornered your white king. How annoying.

“That’s not fair! You tricked me!”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You backed me into a corner!”

“You didn’t pay attention.”

“That’s impossible considering I’m topless and you’re still wearing all of your clothes! Was there even a way out?”

“There was.”

“But…but…ugh!”

Sylus raised an eyebrow and gave you a toothless grin. “I’m waiting.” He gestured at your pyjama bottoms.

“For what? The game is over, you’re still wearing all of your clothes and I’m still bored.”

Sylus laughed. “And you lost yet another piece. Don’t be a sore loser, sweetie.”

“I’m…not!” Cursing him under your breath you leaned back and shrugged off your pyjama bottoms without taking your eyes off him. It wasn’t nearly as sexy as you had hoped for it to be but beggars couldn’t be choosers. “This really didn’t go according to plan…”

“Your ‘plans’ never do, kitten.”

You scoffed. “Now what?”

“Now? You let me admire the view and revel in my triumph.”

“You’re impossible.”

Sylus chuckled. “You’ll find I’m very much possible. Come here.”

Now that was something he didn’t need to tell you twice. You crawled over to him fast, ignoring how the remaining chess pieces fell off the board in the process and made yourself comfortable on his lap. Sylus cradled your naked form in his arms as if you were a fragile porcelain doll. Your eyes fell shut almost automatically when he kissed your forehead.

His hands were less innocent. They ghosted over your exposed skin raising goose bumps where they went. It was sheer luck he didn’t tease you for how quickly your legs fell open when one of them travelled lower and lower, over your breasts and your hard nipples, your stomach and eventually…between your legs to where your body wanted him the most.

“Naughty little kitten, have you been this wet for me the whole time?”

You hummed in agreement, rubbing your nose against the crook of his neck.

Testing the waters, his long fingers started rubbing and caressing your outer lips until they slid between them with ease to tease your clit. Probing and exploring, working you up for him until he had you gushing and whimpering in his lap.

“Why…why were we playing chess if…if we could have just done this…the whole time…instead?”

“As much as I enjoy our…intimate moments, I do place value on spending intellectually stimulating time with you too, kitten.”

“Now you’re…making it sound like I’m…sex-crazed…around you…” Your panting increased, an all too familiar knot tightening in your lower belly.

Sylus laughed. “You’re not. Although…I wouldn’t blame you after getting that first taste.”

“You’re impossible,” you breathed out again. The words were followed by a moan. Sylus slid two fingers into your slick warmth, curling them inside you all the while his thumb kept caressing your clit. Shit, you were so close…so close…

“Sylus…”

“What is it, kitten? Tell me…”

“I’m…I will…oh shit…”

“Come for me,” he growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

He didn’t need to tell you twice. You let go and fell, your orgasm rippling through you like pure electricity. Your wet walls tightened around his long fingers as he helped you ride it out and relish the taste of every last wave of pleasure consuming you. You kept clenching around rhythmically as that feeling of pure bliss slowly ebbed away again, leaving you breathless in his arms.

“Next time…” you choked out of breath, “…we’re playing UNO.”

Sylus chuckled. “As you wish, kitten.”

[linkito]

hello. my eye is still twitching but GOD the most recent rambles and rp bits that ange posted made my heart ACHE for scar. he's being so completely and totally overlooked here by multiple other hermits (like his own pain and trauma don't matter) and uuughhhghhghhghhg. anyway poking you to talk more about scar's thoughts and feelings throughout that all IF you would so like (so i can sob and weep and cry and continue to distract myself from work)

Oh gosh, it's bad honestly.

Because Scar knows where his heart is at, he knows he'd never do anything purposely cruel to Grian. But he can't speak for Grian's intentions. The Hermits are concerned that Grian is seeking out self-destruction with their antics and well... Scar just doesn't know.

The safest option for him is to simply wait it out. They put a pause to the rougher side of things, and honestly, that's fine! Scar could continue their relationship like this and he would still be happy. But...is it really their decision? Or are they letting other people think for them? People who don't know their experiences. People who don't know what it means, why they do these things in the first place.

But Scar feels like he has to keep these thoughts to himself. It feels impossible to remove his own desires from the equation if he speaks up, and he wants this to ultimately be Grian's choice.

(But keeping quiet means letting the Hermits have all the influence.)

He also feels like he's being held to a higher standard than is fair because of his seemingly violent nature. He has to appear more put-together and tame when he's around the Hermits. He has to hold back the claws, the teeth, the growling, and even his wings because they simply serve as reminders of his battered and ghastly nature.

And isn't it a little ironic to be hiding wings again? Somewhere where they're supposed to be safe to be themselves?

Grian's trauma results in him being withdrawn and skittish. People see that and pity him, which is a whole mess of its own, of course, but... Scar's trauma resulted in him growing defensive and on edge, ready to fight when normally he'd flee. ...It's harder to empathize with.

The Hermits don't realize what it is the two of them had to do to survive. All they see are sharp edges that they think need to be sanded down.

When the sleepover comes around, Scar practices a simple mantra: soft little kitten paws. Keep his claws retracted. Be gentle and charismatic-- all the aspects of the old Scar that the Hermits want him to be. He wears a dress shirt and a cozy-looking sweater vest. He gets a fresh haircut and combs it back. He uses his cane both because he's anxious and needs the crutch, but also because he hopes it makes him appear more harmless.

... and yet things still go wrong.

have a doodle for reading this far </3

[selfinflictedgunshotwound]

sorry for only saying this type of shit lately but i kinda wanna drive a car straight into a brick wall at the highest speed possible

[bunnihearted]

໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[skrunksthatwunk]

not to doomer post. but. american politics is like here's a conservative warmonger who wants to burn you alive personally and here's a different conservative warmonger who definitely wouldn't stop someone from burning you alive BUT who might raise the minimum wage by $0.30/hour for you, but only like eight years from now (so re-elect me please!! >w<). yes one of them has to be president they are the only two options we'll let you have. no neither of them will stop the government from killing you or anyone else, but at least one will say "it's kind of bad to kill people :( someone should really do something about that..." while giving the people-killers $20,000,000,000,000 to keep doing it then saying they can't afford to help you at all, but oh shucks, maybe next cycle, if you vote for me again! and also everyone will pretend as though they are extremely different political entities covering two highly polarized ends of the political spectrum despite nearly identical policy views obscured by their slightly different ways of addressing their target audiences, many of whom are also conservative warmongers. and also if you don't vote or vote third party the other guy will win and you will watch as they burn everyone you love alive in the same way they've burned so many strangers so you kind of feel like you have to vote for the other warmonger because even though they both have blood on their hands you'll take a handshake over an uppercut. even if you can still see the bodies piling up behind them. even if you can only save like five people you know and not the thousands of people who are dying in the other room. because you believe the difference between 30,000 and 30,005 is still worth it even though no one needed to die in the first place and no one seems to agree with you. you have to keep living in this world every day. if anything changes it will take decades and it will never be enough. if this takes a toll on you good fucking luck surviving off the generosity of the warmonger state that claims to serve you. happy voting!!

[toastsnaffler]

I love to talk but I rly do feel like we have to be talking for a minimum of 8 hours straight before I feel like I can even begin to rly broach things on my mind or that have been bothering me a lot that I actually want to talk abt without being vague or deflecting or omitting or lying and if the conversation takes a break at any point it resets back to 0 and its still nice regardless but.

[benevolentvampire]

my mother will see textbook depression and then decide it just pisses her off

[banj0possum]

Bloody Red Roses

Yandere!Evil King x GN!Reader

CW: kidnapping, weirdo behavior, pretty mellow for now

👑 It was known throughout the land that King Alistair of the Obsidian Kingdom was a terrifying and cruel ruler. His heart held no mercy for those who opposed him.

👑 His dark magic was one to be feared, many know better than to ever go against him and his undead soldiers.

👑 Recently, he’s set his sights on your kingdom. He was planning on overthrowing a few lands and expanding his territory, and with your kingdom’s promising resources and location, he saw it as the perfect prize.

👑 But he isn’t a war mongering psychopath who declares war right then and there, no no he’s much more sophisticated than that, he’s going to kidnap the princess instead!

👑 He needed a bride anyway, so for him it’s a win/win!

👑 “Sir! We got her! We got the princess!” The door opening and the rattling of bones got Alistair’s attention. He sent a few of his skeleton soldiers to capture the princess whilst on a carriage ride through the borders of his territory.

👑 There were many guards protecting the area, but their weapons were no match for enemies who couldn’t die, and with a little bit of sleeping potion, carrying the princess away will be easy as pie.

👑 “Excellent~ and you brought her to my chambers like I told you correct?”

👑 They nod and scamper alongside the king to meet the princess

👑 “Oh princess~ are you awake ye- !!” His eyes widen and he cuts himself off. The person unconscious and tied up in his bed was indeed a royal, but the princess they were not.

👑 “What. Is. This?” He growls, the soldier’s bones rattle in fear

👑 “W-well you sai-“ “Does this look like a princess to you?! How am I going to take over their stupid kingdom if don’t have a bride!?” He scowls angrily.

👑 He hears you tossing and turning in your sleep, you let out a soft little squeak as you reposition yourself to be hugging one of his pillows.

👑 “…”

👑 “Uhm…your highness..?”

👑 “Leave. I’m done with your stupidity..I’ll deal with them myself..”

👑 The soldiers waste no time running off to who knows where as Alistair looks at you with cold eyes.

👑 “Hm…”

👑 He takes a seat by the bed, watching you as he figures out what to do with you.

👑 He’s trying to figure out a strategy, but he keeps getting distracted by your form. You looked so small and delicate, maybe he could…no that’s stupid he could never..could he?

👑 His thoughts plague him a awhile longer until he notices you waking up.

👑 Your muscles are weak, your head feels like it’s spinning, and it takes a bit for you to get back to your senses and realize what happened.

👑 You jolt awake, remember of the attack and almost scream at the sight of Alistair, but he was quick to covers your mouth and try to ease your panic. It took a while, but he managed to get you to stop fussing so he could take off your binds.

👑 “Apologies for this little..incident, I was supposed to take your sister..but now that you know my plan for your little kingdom, I have no choice but to keep you here. Perhaps I don’t need a princess to marry after all, I could just use you as ransom..” he chuckles.

👑 He sees the tea in your cup rippling in your shakes hold and scoffs, bringing his hand to hold your wrist to still your trembling “Oh don’t be so scared now, I don’t bite..”

👑 It was just supposed to be a means to make you stop shaking, but your skin…your big pitiful eyes staring up at him..he didn’t want to let go.

👑 So he kept you, for ransom of course, not for anything else..

👑 With you at his disposal, he started preparing negotiations with your kingdom to see what they’ll do to get you back.

👑 But in the mean time, he had to deal with you somehow..

👑 He settled on just letting you wander around the castle (with supervision of course)

👑 But then he starts to wonder what you do everyday, what did you even like to do? If you were staying with him, he might as well talk with you for the time being.

👑 It started off sort of awkward, he spotted you by the garden feeding some birds with two soldiers watching you. He approached and waved at the soldiers to leave them alone together. You thought you were in trouble but to your surprise, he just asked you how you were doing..

👑 “I uhm..heard you like going out here everyday..I figured I’d join you…Don’t take it the wrong way, I just had some..free time..that’s all..”

👑 The whole interaction was unusual. It wasn’t like him to be so casual and calm with someone, especially a royal of another kingdom.

👑 He enjoys the reactions you give him whenever he talks about his role as the dark king of the Obsidian Kingdom. Your nervous but polite smile masks your mortification of him, but it’s adorable to him nonetheless

👑 “What? A scared of the big bad king? How cute.”

👑 Your little talks slowly became frequent, for the king, it even became something he couldn’t help but do. What can he say? He was so used to your presence it seemed wrong to not talk to you at least once..plus he had to check to see if you weren’t planning an escape so..

👑 “Where have you been my little rose? I haven’t seen you all day.”

👑 His interest in your interactions turned to fondness the more he picked up on your cute little quirks. He takes note of the things you find funny or interesting, he brings them up in order to see that adorable little smile of yours, and that giggle, oh god that giggle…

👑 He denies it so much at first, but slowly starts to accept the fact that he wants- no, needs you with him

👑 Soon he started to want your presence even more, offering to eat meals alongside you instead of eating whenever he’s schedule allowed it, he started eating scheduled meals for you <3 we love self care guys

👑 “Of course I’m eating with you tonight. After all we never got to finish our conversation.”

👑 He loves watching you, even when simply eating or any mundane thing, you will more often than not catch him staring at you. You’re just so cute and soft! Definitely not like the snobby and overly stiff men and women he’s seen.

👑 He couldn’t have you trying to escape so what better plan than to keep you by his side 24/7? Then you’ll never be out of his sight!

👑 “What’s so wrong with letting you tag along my dear? I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself with me.”

👑 And what if you try and sneak out from your chambers? Clearly you need to be moved to his chambers, that way he can make sure you’re behaving.

👑 Oh and of course in case you get lost, he made you a cute collar with the royal insignia on it! Isn’t it pretty? He used your favorite colors and everything!

👑 Of course he needs to fulfill his kingly duties. But how can he leave you alone for that long? No worries, you can sit right on his lap! That way you won’t have to stand for a long time and hurt your feet.

👑 And those clothes? So simple and out of style, perhaps you should wear something more fitting to his kingdom’s styles? Like a cute outfit with lace and ruffles! You look so delicate and graceful in it! He can’t help but buy you lots more outfits like that! Tis only fair for a person of your status.

👑 “How about this one? It compliments your form…what do you mean it looks too cutesy? I think it looks perfect for you.”

👑 he’s the type to not do much physical affection, but dear god does he crave both giving and receiving it. Give him a kiss or a caress of his cheek and he struggles to keep his composure and not melt to your touch

👑 Simply put, he might not seem like it (at least he thinks he does) but he can’t live without you. He couldn’t fathom the fact he was planning on trading you for a kingdom, you’re way more valuable than some puny kingdom!

👑 He even considers his original plan, you wouldn’t mind right? Besides, he bets you look absolutely exquisite in a little wedding dress~! Even if you don’t want a dress, an elegant suit would perfect on you~!

👑 “Where do you think you’re going my rose?”

It’s finally here guys ✨✨✨ I know it’s been a while but I’ve been busy with school and genshin. Anyway we got em in the end! Thank you for being so patient guys !! qwq

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

Snuggles On The Couch

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: smut

When Lando has a weekend off from racing he tries to come home to England from time to time and visit his family. Of course, since he doesn't want to spend a second away from you, he always asks you to go with him, and you always agree because you like spending time with his family. You get along well, you have a lot of topics to talk about and it's never boring in their company.

It was the same this weekend. You spent the whole day hanging out outside in the yard of the Norris family home. The whole family was together, and Lando was hovering around you all the time making sure you weren't bored, and besides it comes naturally to him that he has to be near you all the time and have physical contact with you.

When evening came you had dinner together after which Lando's sisters went out with their friends and his mom and dad greeted you and went upstairs wanting to give you some privacy down in the living room.

Feeling a little exhausted from the day, you stretched and yawned loudly before your head hit the pillow on the couch in front of the TV.

"You feeling tired?" Lando asked coming from the kitchen towards you.

"A bit, yeah" You yawn again.

"It's barely 9 p.m. baby, do you wanna go to sleep already?" He asks sitting down on the couch and putting your legs over his lap. "Thought we could watch a movie before bed?

"Yeah, sure, why not. I can't promise that I'll see the end of the movie awake though" You smile sleepily.

While you were looking for a movie on netflix, Lando settled comfortably sideways behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest. He started kissing your neck tickling you and making you giggle.

"Lan, you're distracting me"

"I missed you today" He says nuzzling his nose against your shoulder.

"You missed me? We've been literally together all day."

"Yeah, but" He sighs. "you didn't pay much attention to me and I had to share you with others. I want you to myself now."

You turn your head to look at him rolling your eyes and laughing. He takes the chance to kiss your lips running his tongue over your bottom lip, but you don't let him in. Instead you break the kiss and focus your attention to finding the movie to watch.

Lando wasn't really interested in watching the movie at all. He actually suggested the movie just to try to keep you awake a little longer to get what he wanted. His lips were attached to your neck as his hands slowly began to roam your body, sliding them under your shirt and squeezing your breasts over your bra.

"Lan..stop it" You half whispered half moaned squirming a little.

"Just keep looking for the movie" He murmured against your skin grinding himself against your ass.

You could clearly feel how hard he was as he squeezed your hip and pulled your ass into his crotch. You squeezed your thighs clenching around nothing as he tried to slip his hand in between them.

"Lando, no. We're in the living room, there's no chance" You resisted taking his wrist and trying to move it away.

"C'mon, baby. Let me touch you, please." He whines quietly forcing your thighs apart. "Can't you feel what you're doing to me?"

"I'm too tired and there's no way we're having sex on your parent's couch"

"You don't have to do anything. You just lay here and find a movie and I'll do all the work, yeah? Just let me feel your pussy please.." He groaned biting your shoulder.

Your common sense told you no, but your body responded differently to his touches. Especially when he kissed you just below the ear and rubbed your pussy over your tights. Your lips instantly parted and eyes closed as you took his wrist, but didn't stop him.

"How come you're so wet if you don't want it, baby? Hm? I feel it through those tights of yours" He murmured continuing to work his fingers over your clothed clit while his other hand gently grabbed your neck.

You couldn't bring yourself to say anything nor to open your eyes. You just hoped he wouldn't stop what he was doing.

"I'm gonna fuck you right here, right now, nice and gentle, yeah?"

You nodded and that was all it took for him to pull your tights down just below your ass and free his cock from his now already too tight pants and boxers.

"Soaking wet" He groaned playing with your pussy. He collected your wetness with his fingertips rubbing it over the tip of his cock. "You ready for me, darling?"

You answered his question by arching your back for him letting him put his tip on your entrance. He teased your hole a little before pushing himself in and burying his head into the crook of your neck to quietly groan into it. You whimpered at the feeling of his cock filling you. Before he started thrusting, he put his hand on your hip to rock you back and forth on his hard cock.

"Been thinking about this all day, fuck baby" He grunted starting to move in and out of you slowly.

"What if someone walks in here?" You worried, but the feeling was too good to stop.

"I don't care, I'll just keep fucking you until we both finish" Tingles ran through your body at his words and you let out a louder moan than you intended. His other hand immediately went up to cover your mouth. "Quiet, love, quiet"

He was fucking you deep and slow keeping your mouth covered with his hand and leaving wet kisses over your skin.

"You like how I'm fucking you, hm?" He whispered in your ear.

"Faster, Lan please" You quietly cried out.

"You need it faster, baby? I'll give you faster" He said lifting up your leg and increasing his pace. His eyes followed your movements as your hand slid down to your clit quickly rubbing it in circles. His eyes rolled in his head at the sight. "Oh fuck..Are you getting close?" He asked hoping that you were because he knew he couldn't last much longer.

"Yes, Lan, uh-yes"

"Me too. I just wanna come for you, baby"

He kept thrusting in you and soon you could feel him twitching inside. You knew he was about to come as his breath started quivering.

"I'm gonna cum inside so we don't make a mess, yeah?" He barely managed to say. You moaned squeezing your thighs together and clenching around his cock. It send both of you over the edge as the familiar feeling of pleasure coursed through your body.

"Oh fuck, yes, yes baby come all over my cock" He pressed you against his chest burying his head into your neck once again until both of your rode out your orgasms.

He pulled your chin with his fingers to face him and you smiled flushing avoiding his eyes.

"What? Why are you so shy all of a sudden?" He chuckled.

"Because..this was so wrong" You sighed shaking your head.

"It was, that's why you came so hard, baby"

[user-needs-new-hyperfixation]

You know how we joke about the array being like a group chat or social media? Well imagine if prayers went into a sort of heavenly email inbox. And when Xie Lian ascends for the third time, he expects his to be empty aside from the occasional spam from someone trying to schmooze up to every god they can think of, or the sadder chain emails from people desperate for help from anywhere.

Instead, he opens it and finds thousands upon thousands of prayers dating back throughout the entirety of his banishment, all from the same untraceable source. He opens random ones. Some are sweet little things, "Your Highness, wherever you are tonight, I hope you sleep well."

Others are more complex, "Your Highness, I find myself in a position where I must either seize power myself or risk it falling into other, more wicked hands. My own hands will inevitably be dirtied by wielding that power, but would they not be just as tainted if I did nothing, and let worse things happen? I know what I will choose, but I still wonder what you would do in my place."

Others still make him blush tomato red up to the tops of his ears, trailing babble still imbued with frantic eroticism and clearly never meant to actually reach him, cutting in and out like a poorly tuned radio as the devotee tries to keep thoughts from becoming prayers, panted strings of "Your Highness, Your Highness, please please please..."

The prayers date back to a few years after his second banishment, which makes sense because his inbox had been wiped when he was banished. He's surprised it's been allowed to gather all of this since: he supposes it's just that no one has even thought to notice. The centuries the prayers span makes it clear they do not come from a human, which is confusing and intriguing in equal measure.

And then, early on, he finds one that makes his heart stop and then take off again at a gallop.

"None of them are quite right, Your Highness. If I carve a thousand, ten thousand, will I eventually get it right? Will I ever be able to capture the kindness and the ferocity you radiate in something as base and cold as stone? I'll keep trying forever, or until I can see you again in the flesh. Your Highness has a believer here who still offers worship."

And that is how Xie Lian realizes that Wu Ming still exists.

(Insert long canon-divergent AU I'm too lazy to write here. I think there needs to be some kooky misunderstandings. Xie Lian is now aware that Wu Ming is out there and loves him and is looking for him and is so distracted by his determination to find him that it takes him 600k words of stubbornly denying his growing affection for Hua Cheng before he finally realizes Hua Cheng IS Wu Ming and has been desperately trying to court him for several volumes.)

[pucksandpower]

Say My Name

Oscar Piastri x streamer!Reader

Summary: when fans mistake Oscar for your ex while he is hanging around in the background of your stream, you get introduced to a side of Oscar that you’ve never seen before

Warnings: 18+ content

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you narrate the intense battle unfolding on your stream. “Oh damn, that was close! I almost got sniped there.” You lean in, eyes narrowed at the screen. “Gotta be more careful or this round is over.”

The chat explodes with messages cheering you on. Being one of the top female gaming streamers has its perks, like an incredibly loyal fanbase that hangs on your every word.

You glance at the viewer count — over 50,000 watching live. Not too shabby.

“Okay team, let’s rush B, I’ll try to draw their fire.” You move your character into position, heart pounding with anticipation.

Suddenly, a quiet thump comes from the living room behind you. You start, whipping your head around, but see nothing amiss through the open doorway. Must have been your imagination.

You refocus on the game, calling out tactics to your teammates. Another muffled sound, like something soft hitting the floor, catches your attention. You turn off your video and hit mute on your mic. “Hello? Is someone there?”

No response. You’re just about to unmute when a very familiar face pops into view from the hallway. It’s your boyfriend of nearly two years.

Your face splits into a huge grin as you take in his messy hair and the rumpled clothes he slept in on the flight. “Oscar! You’re back early!”

He crosses to you, bending to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your hair.

You tilt your face up for a proper kiss, “I missed you too, ba-”

But you’re cut off as his lips crash into yours, insistent and heated. Heat blooms in your cheeks at the sudden, passionate embrace. Far too soon, Oscar pulls away, leaving you flustered and breathless.

“Sorry,” he says with a smirk that suggests he’s anything but. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You shake your head, laughing. “You’re ridiculous. I’m working, you know.”

“So I noticed.” Oscar settles onto the couch just off-camera, casual as can be. “Don’t mind me, keep going.”

“You sure?” You eye him skeptically. The stream has been on a short period without your commentary and the chat is getting restless. “I can take a break if you want.”

He waves a dismissive hand. “No, no, I’m just going to hang out here for a bit. Go ahead.”

Hesitating only a moment, you turn your video back on and unmute your mic. “Alright folks, sorry about that little pause. I, uh, got a surprise visitor.” You gesture vaguely toward where Oscar lounges behind you.

The chat instantly lights up with questions about who was there. Smiling to yourself, you ignore them for now, re-focusing on the game.

Over the next hour, it becomes increasingly difficult to concentrate. Oscar keeps distracting you, making silly faces and gestures whenever you glance his way. More than once you have to stifle a laugh after catching sight of him. Your fans seem to find your giggly mood delightful, though they remain oblivious to the cause.

Finally, in a rare break between matches, you swivel in your chair to face him. “You’re being so disruptive,” you stage-whisper. “Don’t you have better things to do than pester me?”

Oscar feigns innocence. “Who, me? I’m just sitting here, love.”

Rolling your eyes, you stretch your arms overhead with a groan, back popping from sitting so long. Oscar’s gaze shamelessly rakes over you, darkening.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mutter, fighting a smile.

“Like what?” His eyes glint with mischief.

You open your mouth to respond, but a new donation notification pops up on your stream, cutting you off. “Oh, wow, thanks for the ten thousand bits, Legend27!” The expensive donation isn’t that unusual, but the comment attached gives you pause.

I’m so happy you and Eric made up! You two are couple goals for real.

Frowning, you scan the new barrage of messages flooding the chat … and find dozens echoing similar sentiments.

Your stomach drops as you finally realize what your viewers think is happening. They assume Oscar is actually your ex, the one you briefly dated and had an awful breakup with over two years ago. Apparently his surprise appearance has led them to believe you two have reconciled.

Heat floods your face at the misunderstanding. Objecting seems pointless though — you’ve learned it’s better not to discuss your private romantic life on stream. “Ah, thanks guys, you’re too kind,” you finally say, aiming for a neutral tone.

Beside you, Oscar stiffens, catching the implications of the messages. His jaw clenches and you watch as his face cycles through a series of micro-expressions — first surprise, then confusion, quickly followed by displeasure and … jealousy?

Uh oh. This could get messy fast if he gets worked up. You try to subtly shake your head at him in a silent plea to ignore the chat.

No such luck. His brow furrows deeper and you can practically see the tension ratcheting up in his shoulders.

Suddenly, Oscar surges to his feet with a muttered curse. Before you can react, he’s stalking around the side of your chair until he’s directly in view of the camera’s frame.

“Oscar, what are you-”

But he cuts you off by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you hard. Your startled squeak is smothered by his fierce, possessive mouth moving over yours.

Powerless to resist the onslaught of sensations, you melt bonelessly against him as the kiss stretches on and on. Only the escalating number of notifications showing the shock and exclamations from your viewers finally breaks through the heady fog.

With extreme reluctance, Oscar ends the kiss, both of you panting. He keeps his face buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your flushed skin as he growls, “She’s mine.”

Then, before you can respond, he reaches past you and slams his palm into the power button of your streaming setup, shutting everything down.

The simultaneous howl of outrage from tens of thousands of confused fans cuts off abruptly as the screen goes black. Only the two of you are left in the ringing silence that follows.

“Oscar!” You finally manage. “What was that?”

He pulls away enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze, his brown eyes blazing with an intensity that steals your breath.

“I got … jealous,” he admits, seeming almost surprised at his own vehement reaction. “When they thought I was your ex. I didn’t like that at all.”

Your expression softens at his uncharacteristic show of vulnerability. Reaching out, you trace his sharp cheekbone with gentle fingers. “You have no reason to be jealous, silly man. It’s only ever been you.”

Some of the blazing heat in his stare banks into smoldering embers at your reassurance. “Yeah?” A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Good.”

He leans in again until his lips are a hairsbreadth from yours. “Because you’re mine, okay? And I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, dizzy with wanting him. “I’m all yours, Oscar.”

The possessive words seem to flip a switch in him. With a low, rumbling sound of approval, his mouth slants over yours once more in a searing, demanding kiss that makes your toes curl.

The abrupt ending to your stream is already causing a social media firestorm of epic proportions. But surrounded by the circle of Oscar’s arms, his familiar warmth and love, you can’t find it in yourself to care even a little bit.

After all, you think dizzily as he deepens the kiss, your fans should have recognized that you two were a couple from the very start — because Oscar Piastri is most definitely not your ex.

He’s your everything.

***

Oscar’s hands are everywhere, seemingly unable to get enough of you as his kisses grow more and more fervent. Your back hits the wall with a gentle thump as he crowds closer, caging you in with the solid warmth of his body.

“Missed you so much, love,” he rasps against the heated skin of your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

A whimper escapes your lips at the scorching path his mouth blazes over your pulse point. “I m-missed you too, Oscar.”

His name falls from your lips like a prayer and he rewards you by sucking a mark into the sensitive spot just below your ear. Pleasure zings along your nerves at the hint of delicious possession in the act.

When he finally pulls back to gaze at you with dark, hooded eyes, his lips are reddened from enthusiastic use. The sight sends a molten flare of desire arrowing straight to your core.

“Say it again,” he commands roughly, voice gone low and gritty in that way that never fails to make you melt.

You blink up at him, momentarily lost in a lust-fueled haze. “W-What?”

“My name.” His large hands skim over the curve of your waist, bunching the fabric of your shirt. “Say my name again.”

“Oscar,” you breathe without hesitation, watching raptly as his pupils blow wider at the sound. “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...”

Each breathy iteration seems to stoke his hunger hotter. His fingers flex against your sides like he’s holding himself back from something.

On a daring whim, you slant your mouth near his ear, letting your lips brush the shell with every word. “Oscar Piastri,” you practically purr. “My Oscar.”

A broken groan is your only warning before he’s on you again, mouths crashing together in a heated crash of lips, teeth, and tangling tongues. His hand comes up to cup the nape of your neck, angling your face for deeper exploration.

When you finally manage to tear your lips away, you’re both panting harshly, chests heaving. “What’s … gotten into you?” You pant.

Rather than answer, Oscar just shakes his head and dives back in for more fervent kisses, like a man dying of thirst and you’re the most delicious drink he’s ever tasted.

It’s not until he suddenly grips your waist and spins the two of you around, depositing you on the desk with a surprising lack of finesse, that you realize just how wildly affected he is.

Oscar licks into the seam of your lips like he’s staking a claim and something within you shatters at the stark, naked wanting in his eyes when he pulls back the tiniest bit.

He just stares at you, chest heaving, gaze roving hungrily over your features like he’s memorizing you all over again. His pupils are blown wide, just thin rings of molten brown remaining around the black.

When he speaks, his voice is low and gravelly in a way that vibrates through you. “Say. My. Name.”

“Oscar,” you respond immediately, not even having to think. His hungry gaze burns over you and you feel stripped bare and vulnerable under the weight of it.

But rather than make you want to cover up, it has the opposite effect — you’re reeling him in, hands fisted in his shirt to pull him closer. You never want this delirious, frantic sense of possession and desire to end.

“Again,” he grinds out, sounding utterly wrecked already.

“Oscar.” You bare your neck for him as you say it, like presenting an offering. He groans low and deep, instantly ducking to mouth along the column of your throat.

His hands are everywhere, pushing up the hem of your top, kneading along your sides and ribs as he nips and sucks bruising paths across your collarbones and chest.

“Don’t stop saying it,” he orders, more plea than demand.

So you let his name become a breathless prayer falling from your lips, over and over between gasps and keening whimpers. You lose yourself in a heady feedback loop — the more you speak his name with naked wanting, the wilder it seems to drive him until his touch grows scattered and devouring.

At some point his hands finally succeed in tugging your shirt up and off. Your name doesn’t even register when his scorching mouth closes over one peaked bud, your back bowing at the shuddering bolt of sensation that lances through you.

All you can seem to process is the feel of his calloused palms mapping every inch of newly-exposed skin and the desperate mumble of “Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...” spilling shameless and endless from your lips.

Eventually, the heated exploration of his mouth and hands becomes too much to simply lay there and take. With a low, guttural sound you haul Oscar upright and swing your legs around his hips, relishing his full body shudder.

“Not enough,” you accuse roughly, rolling your core against his in clear invitation. “Need you closer, Oscar.”

His heated groan at your wanton demand is music to your ears. Strong hands grasp your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist as he surges against you.

“So impatient, my darling girl,” he teases. This close, you can make out the faintest brush of freckles scattered over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that you’ve mapped and memorized with lips and fingertips a hundred times before.

You can’t help but reach out to graze them with your thumb, gazing up at him with naked adoration. “My Oscar,” you murmur reverently.

His eyes slip shut for a beat, jaw ticking as if your words have an unexpectedly profound effect on him. When he opens them again, his gaze is fierce and intent.

“Yours,” he vows simply, leaning in to seal the promise against the plush of your lips.

The kiss is somehow softer and headier than before. You get lost in the lush glide of his mouth, every sliding brush of lip and tongue shorting out whatever rational thoughts remain until all you know is his name — the shape and taste and weight of it against your own.

It’s the only thing that seems real, vital, until at some point Oscar’s mouth leaves yours to trail hot, openmouthed kisses down your chest and stomach and lower still.

Your back bows as you squirm incoherently against the press of his lips and tongue. His restraint seems to have finally snapped, movements growing hungry and rough as he works you steadily higher.

“Oscar,” you sob out his name like you’re breaking apart, pleading for something you can’t quite name. He answers with a rumbling sound of satisfaction that vibrates hotly against your sensitized flesh.

More, is all you can think as he redoubles his efforts.

At some point, you must have arched helplessly off the desk because suddenly his hands are at the small of your back, fingertips digging in hard as he holds you arched for his questing mouth.

The intimate angle of his positioning has your jaw dropping open on a silent scream of overwhelmed pleasure. All that escapes is a strangled gasp of, “Oscar!”

He growls something incoherent against you that might be praise, might be reassurance, might just be your name groaned out roughly in shared bliss. But you honestly can’t tell anymore — you’ve transcended far past coherent speech and rational thought.

Everything has devolved into just sensation and feeling and the endless loop of his name spilling over and over from your lips like a benediction.

Oscar, Oscar, Oscar ...

Just when you think you might actually shatter into pieces from the intensity he’s wringing out of you, strong hands are abruptly hauling you up and off the desk in one smooth motion.

You cling to him with heavy limbs, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he staggers the few steps to your shared bedroom. At some point his shirt has vanished, allowing your hands free rein to roam over flexing muscle and heated skin.

When the backs of his legs hit the edge of the mattress, he pauses to claim your mouth in another searing, shattering kiss. He whispers something fervent and intense against your lips, your name perhaps intertwined with endearments or promises.

You can’t be sure. All you know is the shape of his name against your tongue, the only word your mind seems capable of holding onto as he lowers you reverently to the sheets and stretches out over you.

When he finally sinks into you with a harsh groan of relief, your back bows and you let out a broken, high keen — his name once more torn from your lips in breathless ecstasy.

“There you are, that’s it love,” he growls hoarsely as he begins to move, words interspersed between drugging, thorough thrusts. “Let me hear you, let me hear my name on those pretty lips.”

So you do, shamelessly loud and incoherent now as he gradually unravels you from the inside out. His name and gasped pleas and frantic praise all blur together in a continuous stream of blissful delirium.

At some point, his own control seems to splinter apart, hips snapping hard and deep as his pace turns utterly unrestrained. Still, you chase that shattering edge, crying out for Oscar as your whole world narrows to the merciless intensity of his driving thrusts and demanding hands kneading your flesh with staking ownership.

When you finally go soaring over that dizzying peak with his name torn hoarse from your throat, he follows you over almost violently with a ragged shout. Oscar’s arms shake dangerously as he holds his weight off of you, pupils swallowing up the copper of his eyes entirely in onyx pools of spent lust.

As you slowly float back down from that searing high, limbs heavy and sated, you reach up to trace the sharp line of his cheekbone. He turns his face into your palm with a shuddering exhale as if grounding himself.

For several long breaths, all that can be heard is your shaky inhales mingling together while your racing heartbeats gradually return to normal.

Finally, Oscar presses a warm, lingering kiss to the center of your palm before shifting to stretch out beside you, his weight dipping the mattress.

You immediately curl into the reassuring heat of him, despite the sweat still cooling along your skin. One of his arms bands around your waist, holding you flush against his side while his other hand comes up to card soothingly through your hair.

Nestling your face into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, you press a gentle kiss to the hollow of his throat and whisper, “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” he murmurs back, low and slightly scratchy in the aftermath. You can hear the smile in his voice as his fingers keep carding idly through your hair.

Silence falls again, comfortable and peaceful in the aftermath of your frantic passion, both of you simply basking in the warmth of shared nearness.

Eventually though, the question you’ve been avoiding asking slips out in a hazy murmur. “What brought all … that … on, Oscar?”

He’s quiet for so long, you begin to wonder if he fell asleep. Just when you’re about to shift to look at him though, he speaks up.

“When your fans assumed I was your ex … the way they were celebrating that the two of you got back together ...” His fingers stroke almost absentmindedly through your hair as he pauses. “I dunno, something in me just .. .snapped a little. Seeing them say over and over how perfect he was for you ...”

He trails off with a low chuckle, and you can’t resist craning your neck to glance up at him curiously. When your eyes meet his, his expression is rueful.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of any other name on your lips, love. Even your own.” His fingertips trace the line of your jaw with unbearable tenderness. “All I wanted was for you to say my name like that — like it’s the only word that matters in the entire world.”

Just like that, a fresh ember of want rekindles low in your belly at the slightly awed honesty in his voice. You exhale a shaky breath, searching his stormy gaze for … what? Evidence of how crazily affected you are by such a simple revelation?

Whatever he finds reflected in your stare seems to give him pause as well because his eyes almost immediately darken with renewed hunger.

“Say it again then,” he husks, rolling until he’s leaned over you, hands planted on either side of your head. There’s no demand in the words, just low, thrumming need thrilling between you both.

So you reach up to cup his face in your palms, rubbing your thumbs over the sandpapery stubble along his strong jawline as you gaze adoringly up at him.

“Oscar ...” you breathe out his name like a sacred invocation. “My Oscar.”

His eyes slip shut and he makes a low, ragged sound of pure satisfaction on an exhale that ghosts across your lips.

“Yeah,” he rasps, bending lower until his forehead rests against yours. “That’s it, love … that’s all I ever want to hear.”

You pull him back down to you then, unable and unwilling to resist sealing the promise of those words against his lips with your own.

And as everything inevitably dissolves into heat and need and formless ecstasy once more, you lose yourself to the endless chant of his name on your lips — your entire world whittled down to just that one exalted word, over and over and over.

Because really, what other name could ever matter when Oscar Piastri is the only name you’ll ever need?

[joedirtymadre]

Apologizing after your First Fight

Part 2, (Pls send requests, I like making these!)

MONSTER TRIO + LAW, ACE, SABO

LUFFY

You spent the next day in your room, refusing to eat or just say hi to your worried crew mates. You hugged yourself h def the covers, wondering if you went too far with your words. Maybe you should have said it in a different way…? You continued to wonder whether you should take your captain’s words to heart… “Maybe it would be best if I do start my own crew… a crew that won’t lash out when anyone speaks their mind…” you sighed as you nuzzled deeper into your bed.

Luffy’s POV

I stared off into the sunset while sitting on top of Sunny’s head. “She didn’t have to be so mean…” I grumbled as I continued to stare out into the open. “Luffy!” I heard Bami call out. “Wha-“ I was cut off by a smack to my head. “Ow!” I shouted. “Good! Why is (Y/N) still in her room? Why haven’t you checked up on her?” She asked, annoyed. “…” I stayed quiet. “Answer me!” She glared as she pulled on my cheek. “We haf a fighf,” I said nervously. “A fight?” Robin asked as she joined us. “Yeah,” I said as Nami let go of my cheek. “What did you do?” Nami asked as she crossed her arms. “Nothing! Or… nothing serious! I don’t know why she’s mad at me and trying to boss me around like she’s captain,” I huffed. 

“Are you talking about yesterday?” Nami asked as she sat down beside me. “Yeah… she yelled at me because I left the ship to explore the island,” I explained. “Well why do you think that made her angry?” Robin asked as she sat on the other side of me. “I don’t know… cause I didn’t stay on the ship like I was supposed to… but I got bored!” I groaned. “Ok, but what else did she say?” Robin asked.

“Well… she said she’s mad that I didn’t listen to her, but I’m not a kid!” I argued back. “Ok, well think about it this way. What if you asked (Y/N) to make you a giant meal and she said ok, and later you find out she never made it because she got bored or distracted. Wouldn’t you be mad too?” Nami asked. “Yeah I would, but…” I trailed off. “I get it now, she’s mad cause she asked me to do something and I said ok but I went off to do my own thing…” I said softly, finally understanding. “Good, now go apologize!” Nami said. “Ok!” I said quickly as I jumped up to run to (Y/N)’s room. 

I knocked on her door, hoping she’d answer it. “…coming,” I heard softly. I braced myself for a beating, but when the door opened I saw my girl in front of me. She had frizzy hair, swollen eyes, and was wrapped in a blanket. “(Y/N)…” I said softly. “What do you want?” she asked. “Can I come inside?” I asked. “You’re the captain, you can do whatever you want…” she glared as she walked back towards her bed. I followed her inside and shut the door behind me.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry… I didn’t understand why you were mad, but I get it now. You asked me to do something and I didn’t… I went out to do my own thing…” I said softly as I opened my arms, hoping she’d hug me back. “You really hurt my feelings,” she said softly. “I know, I just didn’t like being told what to do… and at the time I didn’t see what the problem was,” I explained. “You told me to go start my own crew… why would you try to kick me out of the crew so easily?” She asked as her eyes became glossy. “I was mad, I’m sorry… please don’t leave, don’t leave me,” I said as I pulled her into a tight hug. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll always listen to you, cause I know you’re just trying to keep me and everyone else safe,” I said as I squeezed her tighter. “Alright… but you know you have to make it up to me, right?” She asked softly. “Yeah,” I replied. “It’s gonna be a mean punishment… I mean it,” she laughed as she looked up to me. “That’s fine, as long as you don’t leave. You can’t leave, I won’t let you,” I grinned. “Ok, but I haven't forgiven you yet. That punishment is gonna be big,” she said with a mischievous look in her eyes. “Bring it on,” I laughed.

ZORO

I sat in the dining room, just wanting to clear my head. I know I messed up, but did she seriously have to run away from me? I groaned as I slammed my head on the table. “Hey Moss head, break that forehead somewhere else. We eat there,” Curly brow frowned. “Whatever…” I replied. “Woah, no come back? Did you break one of your swords or something?” He asked as he sat across from me, wiping his hands. “I said something stupid to (Y/N), and I made her upset… I regretted saying it, but in the moment it slipped out… Now she’s been ignoring me for the past few days. “That’s why I’ve been seeing her in Chopper’s office more often,” he said. “Yeah, anytime I find her she runs away…” I groaned. 

“So what did you say?” Sanji asked as he took out a cigarette. “I said… I said I feel like she’s smothering… me,” I said softly. “You dumbass! To (Y/N)?! I should shove my foot down your throat for uttering words like that to her!” The cook glared. I bit my tongue, not wanting to fight. “Did you at least talk to her about wanting space?” He asked. “No…” I sighed as I banged my head against the table again. “You really are a dumb marimo,”

Sanji said. “I know, so what can I do?” I asked. “You’re asking me for advice? That’s a first,” he scoffed. “Well, I would first apologize, and then you need to tell her the reason behind your little tantrum. Cause now she thinks you think she’s a bother, when she’s not,” he said. “That’s… really helpful,” I said. “Now hurry the hell out of here, before I try to steal her away from you,” he said he leaned into his chair. I nodded and rushed out of the dining room.

“(Y/N)!” I began calling around the ship, but no one’s seen her. “Where could she be?” I asked myself. “(Y/N)? She’s in the library,” Chopper said as he walked out of his office. “Thanks!” I said as I rushed off. 

“(Y/N)!” I called out. “Yes?” I heard in a cold tone. I walked towards the voice and found her in a corner reading, not once looking up from her book. “Hey,” I said awkwardly as I walked closer. “What do you want?” She asked. “I wanted to… to see you,” I said slowly. “You sure? Cause I thought I was suffocating you,” she spat. “(Y/N)… I didn’t mean that, I don’t know… in the moment I just felt every-“ she cut me off.

“No need to explain. You want space, I’ll give you space,” she said quickly. “Oh thank god, I was scared you’d leave me… so you understand that sometimes I-“ she cut me off again. “Yep, so there’s no need for us to be together anymore if you find me so suffocating,” she smiled and quickly shut her book. “Wait, what?” I asked. “Why be with someone you find too clingy? I get it, might as well live that lone wolf style you want so bad,” she said as she began leaving. “No! Just please let me explain, just 1 minute,” I pleaded. 

“Ok, 1 minute,” she said as she turned to face me. "I don’t find you annoying, clingy, or anything! I just… sometimes I just miss having alone time, but I don’t want to be alone all the time. God, even I don’t understand myself! I just… I felt like if I said anything you might leave me, but I don’t want you to leave… I love you…” I felt my ears turning red. “If you love me, then why did you think you couldn’t talk to me about this? I understand people needing their personal space, but you really didn’t feel comfortable communicating with me about this? You really think I’m the kind of person that would freak out over that?” She asked as tears welled up in her eyes.

“I’m sorry… you shouldn’t have to put up with me,” I said, feeling defeated. “Don’t say it like that, I like being with you.” She smiled softly as she stepped closer to me. “Please forgive me, I really don’t want to end things,” I said. “Alright, but make sure you talk to me from now on. Please?” She asked. “Yeah,” I nodded as I pulled her into a hug. “Oh, and you definitely have to make it up to me,” she smiled. “Definitely,” I smiled back.

SANJI

TW* (Eating Disorder, Starvation, Insecurities, etc.)

It’s been a few days now and I’m seriously worried about (Y/N), I grabbed the untouched tray from her door step. “(Y/N) please open the door! Please!” I pleaded as I pounded on the door. No response. I looked at the tray with worry, it’s been 4 days and she hasn’t stepped out of her room once. She hasn’t touched any of the trays of food either… “I’m sorry!” I called out, before finally kicking the door down.

I heard a small yelp. I looked inside and saw her room, clothes thrown everywhere, her closet emptied, and my eyes finally fell to her. She was sitting at her small vanity table, hair disheveled, pale skin, and dull eyes. “You really broke my door down?” She asked as she turned back to the vanity mirror. “I was worried about you, you haven’t stepped out of this room in 4 days, eaten in 4 days! I’m supposed to protect you, take care-” I was cut off. “Shut up! You don’t even care about me!” She spat.

“Why would you say that?” I asked as I stepped closer. “Because look at me… I’m not as pretty as her, not as thin, tall, have crappy hair, dull eyes… I can’t even compete against Nami…” she said softly as her body began to tremble. I stood behind her and softly placed my hands on her shoulders, turning her around to face me. “Are you crazy? You’re perfect, why are you comparing yourself to her?” I asked. “Because I see the way you look at her… the way you talk about her. I mean… you wouldn’t even let me touch her stupid dessert!” she glared.

“(Y/N) I love you, there’s no other woman that I want to be with. You have to believe me,” I said. “Kinda hard to believe you after that day,” she said as she avoided my eyes. “Please, I never wanted to hurt your feelings. My chef hat must’ve been too tight that day… I hate seeing you like this. I miss seeing your beautiful eyes whenever you watch me cook. Your smile can light up 10 billion islands, I love seeing you fight with your hair, I love how you can’t stay clean when we cook, I love how you never get tired of listening about my dream, and I love how you’ve always been so patient with me… Even when I’m being a shitty boyfriend…” I said softly as I wiped her tears with my thumbs. 

“I… I can’t trust you,” she confessed. Those words felt like a knife went through my heart. “I understand…” I said softly as I stood up. I held out my hand, she stared confusedly. “Sanji?” She asked as she looked up. “If you’ll allow me, I’ll happily spend the rest of my life trying to prove to you how much I love you. I won’t let you feel 2nd place ever again,” I smiled softly, hoping she’ll accept. She stared at my hand for what felt like an eternity, but slowly placed hers in mine.

I quickly pulled her into a hug, “I know this doesn’t mean you’re forgiving me, but thank you for giving me another chance,” I said softly as I held on tight. I felt her tense up, but slowly relaxed in my arms. “Now, come on,” I said as I lifted her up. “Huh? W-Where are we going?” She asked, gaining some color back onto her face. “To the kitchen, I can’t let a goddess starve any longer,” I smiled as I walked towards the kitchen. “I-I can walk,” she blushed. “No way, I told you… I’ll happily spend the rest of my life proving myself to you,” I smiled. 

LAW

You tossed your wrench, “Fuck!” you cursed as you laid on the floor next to the wiring you disassembled. That’s it, you’ve given up… you were starving, cold, and exhausted. “What time is it?” You asked yourself and checked your watch to see it was 10PM. “Woah… have I really been here all day? I haven’t eaten… I- Law!” You said as you scrambled to your feet. “He’s gonna be so mad at me… I acted so stubborn and stupid earlier,” You said worriedly as you rushed to your bedroom. You stopped right in front of your bedroom door. “I didn’t even fix the stupid motor, so now I look like a useless asshole,” You whispered to yourself as you slowly entered the bedroom. 

“The asshole part is right,” you heard. You turned to see him sitting in the corner of the room reading under a lamp. You walked up slowly, “Hi,” you said softly. “Hey,” he glared. “Did you end up fixing the motor?” He asked. “N-No,” you stuttered. “Mmm,” he nodded, focusing back on the pages of his book. “L-Law… I’m sorry,” you said softly. “Sorry? For what?” He asked, acting clueless. “I acted like an ass earlier, I just wanted to fix the stupid motor. I wanted to help, but I probably made things worse,” you sighed as you sat in the chair beside him. “Oh well,” he said and closed his book. “I know you just wanted to help me earlier, but… I don’t know. There’s no excuse for my behavior earlier,” you said as you watched him walk to bed. “Well, thank you for your apology,” he said as he tucked himself into bed. 

You sat awkwardly in your chair, maybe this is his way of asking for space? “I-I’ll go bunk with Bepo tonight, you deserve some space…” you trailed off as you headed towards the exit. “I didn’t say you could leave,” his voice boomed. You slowly turned around and walked towards the bed. He stared at you for a few seconds, “Come on already, I know you’re exhausted,” he said as he lifted the blanket. You rushed over and hopped into bed with him. “I’m sorry,” you repeated as you nuzzled into his chest. “It’s fine, we all act like assholes once in a while. I know you just wanted to help fix the motor, but next time take my advice and take a break,” he said as he kissed your forehead. “Mhmm, forgive me for my outburst earlier?” You asked. “Yeah, but you owe me. I had to spend one of our days off alone,” he grumbled. “Alright,” you smiled before falling asleep in each other’s arms. 

ACE

It’s been 2 days since our argument and (Y/N) has been avoiding me like the plague. “Something wrong?” Marco asked. “I just don’t get why (Y/N) is so mad at me… You guys leave all the time without telling us and we don’t say anything,” I sighed as I banged my head against the bar. “Well, we’re not dating (Y/N). So she doesn’t really have the right to know when we’re leaving, but she does for you,” he said. “What?” I asked. “Well wouldn’t you be oissed if (Y/N) took off one day without even saying a goodbye, or even mentioning that she had a personal mission to do?” Marco asked. “Well I mean yeah, but… God I’m such a shitty boyfriend,” I groaned. “Now you get it!” Marco laughed.

“And if I were you, I’d apologize quickly. Heard through the grapevine she asked Pops to go on a personal mission for a while,” Marco said. “What? Without even- oh god I’m an asshole!” I said as I raced towards her bedroom. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)! (Y/N)!” I said as I knocked on the door repeatedly. “What?” She asked as she swung the door open. “I heard you’re leaving? Why?” I asked. “None of your business,” she said as she tried to shut the door, but my foot stopped it.

“It is my business, I can’t just let my-“ she cut me off. “Your what? Cause last time I checked I’m obviously not your girlfriend because you see me as nothing more than a crewmate,” she glared. “No I… I’m here to apologize,” I said slowly. “I didn’t get why you were so upset, but now that the roles are reversed I get it now… I’m acting like a shitty boyfriend, I should have told you that I was leaving. The thought of you just leaving without telling me anything… scares me, because you’re right, what if I never see you again?” I explained as I pushed my way through. She stepped back, “Please forgive me,” I pleaded. 

“You don’t get how many nights I laid awake wondering if I was never going to see you again. If you were ever going to hold me again… why would you put me through that?” She asked. “I wasn’t thinking… I never think, I’m just a big dumbass with an amazing girlfriend who actually puts up with me,” I confessed. “You’re right, you are dumb. But at least you realize how amazing I am,” she softly smiled. I quickly pulled her in for a hug, “Don’t think I’m forgiving you just because you understand what you did wrong,” She said. “I know, I know. How should I make it up to you? Maybe I should spend the whole night making it up to you?” I asked slyly as my hands slid down her back. “Oh u-umm…” she blushed.

SABO

You have been ignoring Sabo for the past week. No matter how many times he’s tried to talk to you, give gifts, or whatever. You were sick and tired of him, you sat on a rock staring out into the sunset. “Hey (Y/N),” you heard a voice behind you. You turned to see Koala, “Hey Koala, what’s up?” you asked. “Nothing much, but I noticed you and Sabo had some sort of argument. He hasn’t told me anything, but I’m nervous I had something to do with it,” she said nervously as she sat beside me.

“Well to be honest, you’re only a small part of the problem. The real reason we fought is because he doesn’t want to spend time with me… The few hours we have free he always spends it reading or training, that we can’t goof off because we’re supposed to always be on high alert. But when he’s with you or anyone else he’s ok with goofing off and running off to go do something fun? I’m over it, he asked me to be his girlfriend. So why should I have to put up with his behavior as if he’s doing me some huge favor of being with me?” You asked. “I’m sorry… I didn’t even think about that… That is pretty crappy of him,” she said slowly. “Yeah, but it’s fine. We can go back to just teammates if that’s what he wants, since that’s how I’m being treated,” you sighed as you laid on your back.

“You’re really not going to give him another chance?” She asked. “I don’t know, but I do know that he’s in the trees behind us listening to us,” you said as you glanced over at Koala. “H-Huh?” She asked as she spun her head around. “Used you as a cover,” you shrugged. “Jeez…” Koala huffed. “It’s fine, but I guess I’ll see you later,” you smiled. “Yeah, don’t be ‘too’ hard on him,” she winked at me and I shrugged in response. 

“Hey…” Sabo called out as he sat beside you. “Hi,” you replied. “I was just p-passing by I swear,” he smiled nervously. “You’re such a bad liar,” you said. “Look… (Y/N), I just wanted to say sorry. I haven’t been treating you so well these past few weeks and instead of spending my days off with you doing things that you like, I’ve gone off and either ignored you or left you alone…” he said slowly. “Yep. I’m glad you realized how crappy you’ve been,” you said as you glanced over to him. “Please forgive me?” He asked as he scooted closer to you. “No,” you said, bluntly. “At least give me another chance? I promise you won’t feel like this ever again,” he said as he grabbed your hand. You stared at him for a few seconds, “I guess, but if you ever pull this type of behavior again… who knows what will happen to you,” you playfully shrugged. “Sounds like a deal,” he smiled. “But… you do owe me, I still haven’t forgiven you,” you smirked. “Jeez, won’t let me off the hook so easily, huh?” he chuckled nervously. “Nope,” you said.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Note: The fic gets a bit saucy, so A18+ ONLY just to be safe!

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, kissing, making out, boobs, fondling, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

Its mid-afternoon in the UA library. The early Spring sunlight is streaming through the tall windows and across the sci-fi novel you're flipping through. You sigh; content to finally have a Saturday off after a grueling few weeks of classes, training and internship activities.

You think back to a particularly tough training session that had taken place the day before - you had finally kicked Shoto Todoroki's ass in front of the whole class. You smile as you remember the shocked look on his face as you reached down to help him back to his feet.

"You had it coming, hot stuff." You winked as he grabbed your hand and let you pull him back to standing position. His face had flushed red in humiliation at the loss.

You're suddenly jerked out of your reverie when a figure looms over you, casting a long shadow on the desk before you. You turn, startled. As if pulled from your daydream, Shoto Todoroki has materialized before you – tall and handsome. You look up at him in surprise, mouth half open.

"I think we should kiss." Shoto's deep voice says above you, his tone neutral.

"Huh?" Your mouth drops fully open. Shoto is looking down at you with eyes alight with determination. That cute blush is back - splashed across his pale cheeks and across his aristocratic nose.

"I was thinking back to our fight yesterday, and the reason why I lost. It was because I was thinking about kissing you the whole time. I let myself get distracted. I think that if we kissed, I could get over it and refocus on training." So matter-of-fact! That was one thing you liked about Shoto - he was straightforward.

"Um...okay." With an effort, you close your gaping mouth. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Shoto has never shown any romantic interest in you before. You’ve never caught wandering eyes on you in class, he’s never stashed a love note in your locker. None of the typical school love tropes have been leveraged here. If anything, the two of you are loose acquaintances on the cusp of being friends. Maybe a few more months of class and group activities together would have helped you bridge the gap and fully form a decent friendship.

You wonder if he’s been into you all this time, or if this is just a whim he’s exploring. Either way - who are you to let an opportunity to kiss a hot guy go by the wayside? You snap your book shut and stand. "You want to do this right now?"

Shoto nods, and turns to walk away with the expectation that you’ll follow. You get up and sweep your things into your bag, heart beating double time. You quickly jog to catch up with Shoto – he’s already out the door. The two of you walk across the UA grounds in silence, your footsteps falling into a soft rhythm.  Your mind is going at a million miles per minute – could this all be an elaborate prank? Shoto has never struck you as the type to play a cruel joke on a classmate. Quite the opposite – when he’s not training he seems so soft and sweet. He strikes you as more of an introvert than anything else. He keeps people at a safe distance. You’ve always been under the impression that when it comes to Shoto, trust is earned, not freely given.

You wonder if this kissing business means that you’ve earned a bit of that trust? Who’s to say.

“So…” you say, attempting to break the tension. “Where are we going?” 

Shoto looks back at you, confused. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to my dorm room.”

“Oh.” You pause. “Wouldn’t that be a bit inappropriate? Like, what if someone catches us kissing in your dorm room? Won’t we get in trouble?”

“I’ll lock the door.” He says sensibly. “It’s no one’s business but ours.”

“Huh.”

“Oh – I think I understand what you’re getting at.” He runs a hand through his hair reflexively. “It’s no wonder you’re one of the top members of the class. A good hero always has a strategy. So we should come up with an alibi.” He brings his thumb to his chin as he stares into space, pondering.

“If someone catches us, I can say that I experimentally froze my lips with my power and that I asked you to help me warm them up. Naturally, the best way to do so was with your lips.” He turns to you expectantly to gauge your reaction.

What the actual hell, Shoto.                                                          

“You’re um…you’re fucking with me, right?” You look at him uncertainly. Shoto’s unusually harsh upbringing has caused him to be shockingly literal at times. Your eyes scan his face until the corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a small smile.

“Yes, I am.”

You burst out laughing at the unexpected joke, and his tiny smile grows into a full grin. He likes making you laugh.

“Listen…” He says reassuringly, “No one is going to bother us – it’s such a nice day. I overheard some of the girls saying they were going to take pictures near the campus cherry blossom trees. They roped Midoriya, Ida and a few other classmates into the activity as well. Bakugo, Kirishima and Sero are all training across campus in the gym. We should have at least an hour or two before anyone comes seriously looking for us.”

Wow. That must be the longest group of sentences he’s ever said to you directly.

“You’ve really thought this through.” You say, following him across the threshold of Class 1A’s dorm complex.

He smirks. “I’m strategic.”

You look at him appraisingly. He looks clean and trim in his tailored UA uniform. Aside from the scar surrounding his eye, he has the most perfect skin of anyone in your class. While the rest of your classmates have been stressing about moisturizer and SPF and acne treatments, you’ve watched Shoto sail through his hormonal teens without a skincare care in the world. The skin of his cheeks is the color of porcelain and looks so, so soft and deliciously kissable. His face holds a mixture of determination and apprehension.

You enter the kitchen and common room area of your dorm and see that it’s completely, blessedly empty - odd for a Saturday. Shoto is right - it is one of the first nice spring days on campus. You assume everyone is out enjoying the nice weather as he said. This is a good thing – it means your clandestine meeting with Shoto can stay secret. Everyone in Class 1A can be so nosy sometimes. You’re determined to keep this juicy little secret between the two of you.

He leads you up towards one of the hallways that encompasses the boy’s dorms, pausing in front of his door to fiddle with his key. His usually steady hands are shaking a bit as he turns the lock and pushes open the door to reveal his immaculately clean bedroom with it’s traditional Japanese décor.

You step inside and slide off your shoes, letting your bag drop to the floor.

“I forgot how traditional your space is, Shoto.”

He closes the door behind you and clicks the lock into place before discarding his keys on his desktop. He looks around the dorm room thoughtfully.

“It’s how I grew up. I never really had the chance to develop my own taste or style.”

“Maybe now that you have your own space, you finally can!” You say enthusiastically. “If you’d ever like to go shopping or want help putting together a Pinterest board, Mina and I can definitely help you find some inspiration.”

His flat line of a mouth quirks up into another small smile. “I haven’t really had the time to think about anything other than school work and the L.o.V. since we moved into the dorms. Maybe you’re right – this could be an opportunity to broaden my horizons. See what I like.”

“Yeah! There are so many fun ways you can bring more of yourself into this space. We can start with a throw pillow.” You say knowledgably, pulling up the Pinterest app on your phone. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

You type the color into the search bar, and immediately the screen is flooded with hundreds of different shades of blue throw pillows – all kinds of patterns and sayings and beading and embroidery. You hand him your phone and encourage him to scroll through the options.

“I’m sure we can find something that makes you feel like you.”

His eyes soften a bit as he takes the phone from you, intrigued. He scrolls through the colorful images, overwhelmed by the options. After a few minutes of careful deliberation, he finally stops and double taps a picture, hyperlinking to a website.

“This. This feels like it could be me.” He sends himself the link so he can purchase the pillow later. He hands back your phone and you take a curious look – the image he’s drawn to is a long rectangle of fabric shaped like a whale. It has navy blue stripes along with a small curved tale and button eyes sewn on. You look up and see that the tips of Shoto’s ears are bright red.

“This isn’t what I was expecting – but I see now that it suits you perfectly.” You say, picturing the whale pillow in his room – a dash of whimsy against the otherwise stuffy outdated décor.  He practically glows at the compliment. You realize that this is likely one of the first times someone is validating a choice he has made for himself. You cough and toss your phone into your discarded bag – the moment feels oddly intimate.

Shoto’s eyes scan across your face and he speaks his next words slowly, almost deliberately. “This is what I’ve always liked about you, y/n. You always seem to know what to say to get someone to smile or to open up. Admirable traits in a future hero.” You feel your own face heating up at the sweet compliment. Shoto has never given you so much direct attention outside of class, and it’s exciting and almost unnerving to have those two intense eyes focused in entirely on you.

“Thank you Shoto, that’s a very kind thing to say.” You suddenly realize how very close Shoto’s face is to your own. He’s only a few breaths away. Shoto is a few inches taller than you, so you need to crane your neck in order to get the full picture of his beautiful face. You wonder nervously if he expects you to initiate – should you reach out and grab his face? Your heart starts beating much too fast and you see his intense eyes dart down to your lips, wanting. You take a step closer to him, leaning up to meet his face, and…

“Let’s get started.” He says abruptly, breaking the moment. He walks over to his closet and pulls out his bedroll, hastily moving to set up his sleeping space so that you’ll have a comfortable place to sit. Once he sets up the space, he takes a seat on the soft mattress and motions for you to join him. This wasn’t really what you were expecting, but you remember that Shoto is pretty sheltered. He clearly has a plan in mind here, so you decide to let him take the lead.

“Alright, before we start – I just want you to know that we can stop at any point you’d like. I want you to be comfortable here, so please let me know if at any time you feel like you don’t want to continue. Ok?”

You nod, appreciating the dialogue and Shoto’s forethought surrounding consent.

He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Leaning his head back, he exhales slowly through his nostrils. After a moment of deep breathing, his eyes flutter open. “It’s an exercise my father taught me for clearing my nerves before a battle.” He explains as he runs a nervous hand through his two-toned hair.

“Are you anticipating a battle here?” You tease, reaching over to place your hand on his thigh. Shoto eyes the hand curiously before matching your gaze.

“Of course not. But surprisingly – I have the same feeling of anxiety now that I usually have right before a sparring match.” His expression is stone cold serious, not even the hint of a joke this time.

“I understand that. It’s nerve wracking to kiss a person for the first time.” You quickly double back on your words. “N-not that I’m implying that this is your first kiss or anything, I-”

Shoto blinks. “Oh – this is my first kiss. I thought it was fairly obvious.”

“Oh! Oh, Todoroki – I didn’t realize!” You trip over your words a bit and it brings out a soft smile in Shoto.

“I think that’s why I’ve been so distracted lately. Once I know how it feels, maybe then I can move on and focus back on my training and studies. Is this not your first kiss?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning. You see no hint of jealousy in his eyes – he’s legitimately curious.

“N-no. I’ve kissed a few people before. Never anything serious! Just here and there at summer camp.” You smile weakly, face burning. Shoto nods appreciatively at your candid answer.

“That makes sense – you’re very competent at everything you do. And very attractive.” This last part brings a blush across Shoto’s pale cheeks. “I had assumed there were plenty of people who have wanted to be kissed by you.” The compliment is unexpected and it makes a laugh bubble up your throat. You start giggling and Shoto seems taken by surprise.

“Did I say something funny?”

“No – no! You’re just so sincere and sweet and I am so nervous right now. Shoto you’re competent and attractive, too. I hope that you know that!” This brings his smile back out again, like the sunshine after a long rainstorm.

“Why don’t we just get it over with, then? I’ve read a few articles and studied some movies and…well, I think I’m as prepared as I can be.” Shoto’s face is so open and earnest your heart squeezes in your chest. He studied for this??

Slowly, carefully, Shoto reaches out a delicate hand to cradle the side of your face. He scoots somewhat awkwardly closer to you, but the rest of his movements hold his typical grace. He leans forward, eyes half closed, and brings his lips to your own.

You dip your head to receive the kiss, and you feel his soft lips melt against yours. You close your eyes and revel in the feeling of his mouth. Everything about him is soft and electric at the same time – the points where your bodies are connected feel charged with some kind of buzzing energy that leaves your breathless. And just as soon as it’s begun – it’s over. A brief peck, a stolen moment in time. Shoto pulls away from you, eyes wide, as he catches his breath.

“So?” You ask, trying for nonchalance but failing when you realize your voice is just a hoarse whisper. “What did you think?”

“It’s…” Shoto looks at you thoughtfully, touching his fingers to his tingling lips. “It wasn’t what I was expecting. I just feel like I want to do it more – like I need to keep going.”

You laugh – “Did you really think you’d want to stop after your first kiss?” Shoto shrugs, unwilling to answer the question.

“Can we kiss again? Please. If you’d like to, that is?” He asks, and you note the want in his voice. You’ve never heard Shoto Todoroki sound desperate for anything in his life before this moment. You’re surprised at how he sounds fairly desperate for you.

You smile at him and lean in close, bringing your foreheads together. You can feel different temperatures playing across his skin as he works to keep his quirk in check as excitement roars across his body.

“Follow my lead, lover-boy.” You whisper, before crashing your lips together. You move at a faster pace this time, showing him how to slide his mouth against yours to have a proper make out. He picks it up quickly and absolutely relishes in it. His eyes are closed and his hands find either side of your face again. You let him hold you like that for a few minutes before you decide to take the reigns a bit more. You reach out to place a hand on his chest and softly push him away from you.

“Here – this will make things a lot easier.” You stand up and move to straddle him, slowly sliding into his lap and wrapping your legs around his back. You place his hands on your waist and wind your arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” He nods, his eyes blown wide and almost glassy with lust.

“This is okay?” He asks, looking down at the way his hands grip your hips.

“Absolutely. You’re going to want them there for leverage.”

“Leverage?” He asks weakly, his eyes trained on your lips.

“You’ll see.” You smile deviously as you take in how absolutely undone Shoto looks. “Okay, next step – have you done any research on French kissing?”

Shoto nods again, looking a bit uncertain. “I watched a romantic comedy online and at the end the main couple kissed that way.”

“Well it’s super easy – I’ll walk you through it.” You tilt your head towards his and melt your lips back together, starting out with a slow and soft kiss. As he begins to get comfortable with the pace of your kissing, you move to deepen it – running the tip of your tongue across his lips. He naturally opens his mouth to you, and you move so that your tongues meet. You guide him into a light dance, your kisses becoming more frantic as your mouths and tongues collide. This brings out a ferocity in Shoto that you hadn’t expected, and you feel his hands grip your hips with almost bruising force. You groan, turned on by the contact. You automatically rock your hips into his and he stills at the motion. You blush as you realize that you can feel Shoto’s dick becoming hard beneath you. Shit.

His hands fly off of your hips and he sits back, mortified.

“I’m so sorry-” you start to say as he runs his hand anxiously through his hair again. Shoto takes a deep breath and looks at you, eyes still fuzzy.

“Don’t be sorry! That was amazing, I just…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looks down between you pointedly. He doesn’t want you to get freaked out by the fact that he’s got a boner.

“Oh I’m not uncomfortable at all! Actually, quite the opposite.” This answer makes Shoto’s sculpted eyebrows fly up into his hair.

“Really?” He whispers.

“Yeah. It’s actually really hot.” You reach down and take his hands in yours, moving them back to your hips. You make piercing eye contact with Shoto as you roll your hips experimentally again – feeling his hardness even through your clothes. He groans at the contact this time, a soft sound that is just: So. Goddamn. Hot.

You grind against him again, picking up a steady rhythm as Shoto enthusiastically moves your hips. Struck by sudden inspiration, you lean forward to kiss a sloppy line up his neck. This draws a moan from Shoto that you weren’t expecting – low and sweet. You smile as you continue to kiss his neck, using your tongue when you find a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear.

Shoto grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head up before crashing his lips back into yours. His kisses are heated and passionate as he bounces you on his lap, making you both see stars. You’re so wet you can feel yourself soaking through your panties. You pray that your school uniform pants won’t get damp beneath you – how embarrassing would that be?! At the same time - you don’t give a damn; Shoto’s mouth and his hands and his dick feel far too good. At the moment kissing Shoto Todoroki feels like the only thing you were put on this goddamn earth to do.

Tentatively, you feel Shoto’s hands wander up from your hips. You moan into his mouth as his hands find your breasts. “How is this?” He whispers hoarsely, running delicate fingertips across the peaks of your breasts. “Is this okay? I can stop if you want me to.” You moan your consent enthusiastically, and when he begins to softly knead your boobs over your shirt, your hormones fully take the wheel.

You hop off your classmate so you can quickly unbutton your shirt – your tie flying off as you work. Shoto remains sitting on the floor and does the same with his own uniform. In a moment he is sitting shirtless and beautiful before you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath. He stares at you with bright eyes as you stand above him in nothing but a bra and UA’s uniform slacks. He has never seen a woman with so little clothing on before, and he is in awe.

You kneel down beside him on the bedroll and reach out to touch his perfect body. Your hand hovers above his perfectly sculpted abs and you look up at him, eyes asking permission. He nods, giving you his blessing to touch. You smooth your fingertips lightly across the defined planes of his chest and abs, marveling in all that he is. Your palm comes to rest against his chest and you feel his heartbeat – a quick staccato beneath your delicate hand. You push him lightly so that he moves to lie on the ground before you.

“You alright with all this?” You whisper, moving slowly to straddle him on the ground.

“If I get to have you on top of me again – absolutely.” And he grins – a genuine smile that radiates comfort. You’ve never seen a look like that before on Shoto’s face and it stops you in your tracks. You just want to bask in the glow of the rare gift of his beaming face.

After a moment, you collect yourself and move so that you’re on all fours and hovering over him. You shiver – you’ve never been so close to someone in this way before. He seems to notice your hesitation.

“You look cold – do you want to grab a blanket?” He reaches up and runs his hands up and down your arms, giving you more goose bumps. You nod, and he reaches to grab a thick grey knit blanket that’s folded neatly to your left. He pulls you down to lay on top of him and easily casts the blanked across your intertwined bodies. The knit feels luxurious and expensive – and it smells deliciously like Shoto. A scent that’s a mixture of sandalwood and fresh sheets wafts around you. It’s comfortable and warm and you feel so, so happy to be sharing this moment with Shoto.

He wraps his arms around you and feels himself get hard again at the delicate feeling of your bare skin against his own. He pulls you in for a kiss – and this time the passion is slow, sensual. You’ve never kissed someone like this before – like you have all the time in the world. He moves his hands up and down your bare back beneath the blanket – warming you up. He’s keeping his ice quirk at bay – both of his hands are the perfect temperature as they run across your soft, supple skin. His hands come to rest on your lower back as he moves to experimentally kiss down your collarbone.

“Oh! Oh, Shoto, yes.” Is all you can say. The use of his given name seems to turn him on even more, because his kisses become sloppier and he runs the edge of his teeth against your skin. He continues to kiss down your shoulder, pausing for only a moment in order to roll you both over so that he can have a turn on top. You gasp at the sudden movement – the dynamics have unexpectedly shifted and Shoto is in total control.

He gazes down at you, shifting the blanket so that it doesn’t get tangled between your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says, a note of wonder in his voice. “Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.” He runs a light fingertip across the delicate skin of your neck and across the expanse of your collarbone. He watches as he runs his finger down the slope of one of your breasts, stopping when he meets the soft cotton of your bra.

“Can we take this off?” He whispers, moving to palm your breast over the delicate white material. You nod, and prop yourself up so you can reach behind yourself to unclip the clothing. With a light “pop!” the bra clip comes undone and Shoto helps you discard the item. He takes in your breasts with a look of absolute amazement and cautiously reaches out to touch them. He gently runs the palm of his hand across your right breast experimentally. You gasp at the contact, and he nervously glances at your face to make sure you’re not in any discomfort. You smile at him, encouraging him to keep going. He kneads the breast in his strong hand a few times before experimentally rolling his thumb over your nipple. You gasp at the contact as pleasure surges through you – you had no idea you were so sensitive. Shoto repeats the motion, earning a soft moan. He smiles at the praise – unexpectedly mischievous as he moves so that he’s kneeling over you, able to tackle a breast with each hand. He goes to work pinching and massaging and rolling your breasts between deft fingers, drawing the sweetest sounds from your mouth.

“Shoto!” You cry out as he moves to spread more kisses across your neck as his left hand plays with one of your breasts. You reach down and squeeze the muscular plane of his ass, begging him to grind into you. He gets the message loud and clear – moving against you gently so that you can feel his hardness graze against you.

He’s causing so many delicious sensations across your body with his lips, hands, hips, groin – it’s almost too much. You feel like you might drown in him when suddenly –

A knock on the door causes you both to still.

“Todoroki?” Mr. Aizawa’s voice is muffled behind the door. You’re both rigid with fear. Shoto’s lips are at your neck and his breath tickles your bare skin. Your fist is tightly squeezed around his left ass cheek. You stare at the ceiling as you start to panic, wondering wildly what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

Mr. Aizawa knocks on the door again. “Todoroki – your father is here to see you.”

“My father?!” Shoto blurts out before he can stop himself. He scrambles off of you and looks around in a panic. “Why’s my father here?”

The walls seem to be thinner than you thought, because Mr. Aizawa supplies an answer from the other side of the locked door.

“Endeavor had a press conference at a hotel down the road this morning. He wanted to check in and discuss internships. I left him waiting in the common area. I’ll be in my office if you want to grab any internship paperwork while he’s here. I wouldn’t keep him waiting, kid.”

“Of course – thank you Mr. Aizawa!” Todoroki calls through the door awkwardly, listening as your teacher’s footsteps recede into the distance.

You and Shoto stare at each other in absolute horror.

“Do you think he heard us? Do you think h-he knows?” You whisper, panic lacing your voice.

Shoto shakes his head no as he gathers up his shirt and shakily tries to re-button it. “No – I don’t think he was out there long enough to hear anything incriminating.”

You let out a breath of anxious air, reaching for your discarded bra. “Thank goodness.” You re-clip your bra and shrug on your shirt.

“Endeavor is here?” You eye Shoto with concern as he dawns his tie and straightens his hair in a wall mirror on the back of his door.

“My old man likes to pop up at inconvenient times.” Content with his hair, he looks down at you. You’ve started to fold up his blanked and bedroll, patting down your own hair along the way.

“We should probably talk about what just happened…” He starts to say, but you shush him as you hear heavy footsteps coming from down the hall.

“Shoto!” A booming voice rings through the hallway, sending shivers up your spine. The heavy footsteps come to a stop right outside Shoto’s dorm door. The doorknob rattles as someone tries the lock. “How dare you keep me waiting!”

“I’ll be out in a minute, old man!” Shoto calls back bitingly. He glares at the door, thankful for the meager lock. He turns to look at you, and his eyes fill with panic. You scan the room for a place to hide – there is absolutely nowhere to conceal yourself in Shoto’s sparse, plain room.

Suddenly, you’re struck with inspiration – you point to the window. Shoto nods in agreement, dashing to grab your things from where they lay abandoned at the threshold of the door.

Quietly, you pad over to the window and pull back the curtains by a foot. You unlatch the window and slide it softly open before hoisting yourself into the wide window frame. It’s lucky you’re not afraid of heights – because Todoroki’s room is on the fifth floor. There is a small escape ladder for fire emergencies (you smile at the irony of Endeavor being the fire emergency in this case). You move to settle your feet on the top rung of the ladder, with plans to climb your way back to the ground so you can re-enter the dorm building from the back.

Shoto leans out the window and hangs your messenger bag around your shoulder.

“Find me later so we can discuss this.” He says, looking apprehensively over his shoulder as his father continues to bang on the door and callout his name. “I’m sorry this ended with you having to sneak out the window like some sort of criminal.”

“Ah, it’s no big deal! Makes it more exciting.” You grin and he smiles back. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving back to close the window.

As he slides the glass closed, he says to you “I don’t think this is going to help me refocus. If anything, I’m more distracted than ever.” You give him a wink as he shuts the window soundly, drawing the curtains to cover your escape.

Hastily, you climb down 5 stories worth of thin metal ladder, landing gracefully in the soft spring grass. You walk to the dorm’s back entrance and let yourself in, walking past the laundry room and up towards the common area. Mina waves at you as she tosses some clothes into the washing machine, and you say a silent prayer thanking the powers that be that none of your friends had come looking for you while you spent your blissful hour hidden away, half-naked and moaning, in Shoto Todoroki’s room.

You climb the stairs two at a time until you hear the voice of the Number 2 Hero grumbling in the common area. Curious, you peak around the corner to see Shoto and his father seated on one of the couches, sorting through paperwork. Shoto has a dead look behind his eyes as his father lectured him about the importance of networking. He nods blankly a few times before his eyes catch sight of your small frame hiding around the corner. His entire face softens at the sight of you. Endeavor notices and turns to see what’s captured his son’s attention.

“You there! Are you a member of Class 1A?” He booms out, almost polite in his delivery. You walk out into the room, drawing yourself up to your full height.

“Dad – this is my classmate Y/N. She lives on the girl’s side of the dorm. Her quirk is extremely powerful.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor.” You say, trying not to blush at Shoto’s compliment. Endeavor waves you off with a fiery hand.

“Ah, that’s right. I recognize you from the Sport’s Festival. Your quirk and fighting style were both quite impressive.” He looks at you appraisingly. “Are you a close friend of Shoto’s?” 

“She is.” Shoto answers smoothly. “Actually, she’s been tutoring me a bit lately on some techniques I’m not familiar with. She’s a greatteacher.” The subtext is not lost on you.

“Surely you don’t need help in your studies, Shoto. You’re at the top of your class.” Endeavor says gruffly, looking to his son for further explanation.

“Just showing him a few moves I picked up in one of my martial arts classes, sir! Shoto picks up new techniques like a Pro.”

Endeavor seems mollified by this answer. “Of course he does. He’s on track to become the best of the best.” The hero claps his hand on Shoto’s shoulder proudly, and you smile weakly at the discomfort that flashes across Shoto’s eyes.

“Well – I’ll let you both get back to your work! Shoto – if you want to practice those techniques again later, I’ll be in the library until 8 tonight.”

You see Shoto ever so slightly lick his bottom lip. His face is tinged with the lightest of blushes.

“Got it. I’ll see you there, Y/N.”

You have a feeling that Shoto isn’t going to be able to focus on his studies for quite some time.

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

PART 2

PART 3

🔥 Link to My Master List 🔥

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 | angus tully x reader (series finale)

read 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 and 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 first!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | angus has been waiting to see you again, but the more feelings get involved, the more complicated your affair becomes.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), mega angst but also fluff too, infidelity, boring old people parties, reader is still emotionally constipated and angus still has a breeding kink, but that's honestly it it's just a bunch of emotions so strap in folks!

Angus was pretty sure he broke some kind of record, with how quickly he ran back to his room after talking to you on the payphone.

He was sure that was exactly what you were picturing him doing— he’d made it pretty clear what he’d do once you hung up, and you’d made it pretty difficult to do anything else with the way you were talking.  You’d been winding him up on purpose, of course; so yes, you could easily imagine him making a mad dash to his room and slamming the door— if you really ever thought about him outside of those phone calls.

That was the thing Angus couldn’t figure out about you.  Well, there were probably a lot of other things than that, but it was the quandary he spent the most time pondering: does she think about me?

Whenever he mustered the courage to ask you something to that effect, you would either change the subject or give a half-answer.  Something about how you had a dream about him the other night or how your parents asked about him— never what he was really asking.

But, frankly, at that moment as he shut his dorm room door and jumped into bed, whether or not you thought about him much was not as pertinent an issue.  Right then, all he could think about was getting his hand around his raging boner; his mind was just playing everything you’d said to him over the phone on repeat.

I’m touching myself right now, you’d whispered in a sultry voice, I’m so wet, Angus— fuck, I’m so wet…

He’d never had to work so hard to keep a straight face on the phone before… he figured if anyone was really looking, they’d notice how red he was turning or how he kept shifting uncomfortably.  And he told you just as much, which of course only encouraged you.  Don’t want them to know, huh? you’d taunted. Don’t want the other boys to find out you’re listening to me get off?

And no, he didn’t— you were such a precious thing, the boys here didn’t even deserve to imagine you— but when you offered to stop if it was too distracting, he only found himself shakily begging for more.

As he quickly opened his khaki pants and gripping his cock, he hissed through his teeth; his ego could barely take all you’d said about that cock, about how thick and ‘perfect’ (you used that exact word, perfect, and he thought he might float) it was, about how you wished you could come around it right then instead of your fingers.

“It’s all yours,” he mumbled to himself, under his breath, not even really noticing he was saying it aloud.  “You want it, baby?  It’s all fucking yours.”

He groaned as he stroked himself, the precum that had been leaking from his tip for a while making everything even easier.  Shutting his eyes tight, he pictured you, like he always did: all of you, everything, anything he could remember.

You ever think about me? you’d asked him over the phone— and he’d blurted out his always before he even realized you meant while he was getting off.  It was still true, but more specific than necessary.  He craved to hear you say it: I think about you too.  But he didn’t ask, and you just went back to moaning while you rubbed your clit— which, apparently, was already swollen and throbbing— and, well, he wasn’t strong enough to interrupt that.

“Fuck,” he grunted, deep in the back of his throat, finally letting his pace pick up until his hand was a blur: after all that anticipation and all that waiting, there was no use trying to hold back now.  It wasn’t like you were here to worry about him coming too fast, even though you’d still maintained you found it endearing when it happened.

He repeated your voice in his head, the moment that had made him worry he would blow his load in his trousers before he could even get off the phone and back to his room: I’m gonna come for you, you’d warned him in the most beautiful moaning voice, Angus— I want you so bad, oh god— I’m gonna come for you, fuck…

His lip caught between his teeth, his hips rocked up into his own palm.  “Yes, fuck, baby,” he panted, “I— fuck!”

He tried to conjure in his mind how it had felt to come inside you, but he knew even his vivid imagination could never really capture the feeling; nothing could even come close.  Still, remembering it and letting himself indulge in his strangest fantasies for just a moment sent him over the edge.  His face flushed suddenly as he came in long, heavy pulses, the back of his free hand falling over his open mouth yet doing little to suppress his moans.

It was intense— it was certainly better than his orgasms usually were when brought on by himself— but it only satisfied him for a moment.  The moment he was finished, with a deep breath in and his hips relaxing back down onto the mattress, he wanted more— he wanted you.

His heavy eyes glanced to the side, trying to remember what it felt like to lie next to you.  He’d never felt lonely after jerking off before he met you; now getting off seemed to bring a new wave of heartbreak each time.

When he shook off the thought and looked down at himself, he frowned as he realized he’d ruined his own shirt doing that— not that he could fully bring himself to regret it.

No, his regrets only really began a few weeks later, when the nagging loneliness in the back of his mind finally got the better of him.

It was the middle of the night when he wrote it, after he woke up from a dream of you that he just couldn’t shake from his mind.  After checking that his roommate was fast asleep, Angus carefully slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the desk, and pulling out a box of cards and envelopes from one of the drawers.  (He thought he’d never use them when his mom sent them with him at the beginning of the year, but a lot had changed since then.)

Something about the ungodly hour made him more honest— or maybe just more shameless.  He wrote a frantic ramble, everything he’d wanted to say to you that he’d never had the courage to blurt out over the phone; all the feelings he’d felt since that incredible night in the backseat of your car, which he’d assumed would fade… which he’d tried to convince himself would fade.

Unfortunately, even the adrenaline of writing down the thoughts of you he’d been poring over for over a month wasn’t enough to overpower exhaustion: he awoke the next morning slumped over the desk, the pen still uncapped and fallen a few inches from his hand, the letter left folded open.

He awoke to the sound of someone’s door shutting down the hall, specifically; jumping and blinking quickly, he looked at the window— it was morning, though still quite early— and then at his roommate who was, thank god, still asleep.

Angus looked back at the letter in front of him, only making out a few words in his brief glance, before his cheeks began to heat up and he quickly folded it shut.  As more footsteps moved through the hall, the boy in the bed nearby stirred and grumbled to himself, and Angus quickly snatched up the letter and shoved it in his book bag before he was caught red-handed.

Ironically, that little commotion was what actually got the other boy’s attention.  “What are you doing at the desk?” he asked groggily, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his palm.

“Oh, I, uh— I had to do some late night cramming,” Angus explained nervously, “that big Geography test coming up and all…”

The half-awake boy seemed to notice for a moment that the story didn’t really make sense, on account of the empty desk, but he simply shrugged and tossed his blanket aside to get up as well.

For the rest of the day, Angus couldn’t think straight— and not just because of his mediocre rest and achy back from the absolutely terrible sleep posture he’d had.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, even if he honestly couldn’t remember for certain everything he’d said… he couldn’t stop wondering if he should send it to you.  He almost didn’t want to read it again first— he wanted you to read it in its most authentic state, he wanted to mail it before he chickened out just like he had when you said you two could just stay casual.  Even if it made his heart race and his palms especially clammy, Angus decided in the middle of that goddamned Geography test that he was going to mail that letter tonight after dinner: he was finally just going to man up and tell you.

Of course, something went horribly wrong along the way: he made a fatal mistake.  Looking back on it, he couldn’t tell for certain if his mistake was falling for you in the first place, or writing the infamous letter, or shoulder-checking Kountze without holding on tight enough to his bag.

The argument that happened beforehand was petty and forgettable, even if it gathered a small crowd of Kountze’s friends, but it ended with Angus trying to walk away a tad… aggressively, and with Kountze grabbing him by the strap of his bag which not only knocked Angus off-balance but spilled the contents onto the floor of the dorm’s shared room.

Everyone saw the books and papers hit the ground; everyone saw the off-white cardstock land right on top.  Angus reached for the letter quickly, but Kountze beat him there, and held it back with a snicker.

“Well, well,” Kountze tutted proudly, “what’s this?”

“H-hey, don’t read that,” Angus warned, hoping the seriousness of his tone would somehow affect the other boy— but, obviously, it did not.  Kountze started to open it and Angus instantly made a dive for it, only to be stopped by three other students who apparently were curious as well about the letter.  “Don’t fucking read that!” Angus demanded.

“Oh god, it’s to a girl!” he realized.  “Do you have a girlfriend, Tully?”

“I swear to god, Kountze, if you fucking read that—”

“I miss you,” Kountze began to read aloud as Angus thrashed around to try to stop him, “I miss you so much I don’t even know what to say.”

The boys holding Angus back were enraptured as Kountze read the letter; “Do you guys pay this much attention in class?” he mocked them, though they were ignoring him completely as they waited for the other boy to keep reading.

“I feel like I can’t breathe without you— aw, Tully, you’re a poet,” Kountze mocked with a smile.  Angus’ heart raced as he remembered what part of the letter came next.  “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you and your smile— Jesus, this is some really sappy shit— or what it’s like talking with you for hours, or how it feels—”

He stopped, and Angus froze, and after a moment the group of boys started demanding the conclusion.  “What— what does it say?!” “Read it, Kountze!”

“How it feels to be inside you,” Kountze continued with wide eyes, staring at Angus’ bright red face as the other boys began to react loudly.

Angus renewed his struggle against the kids holding him back, but even though he was taller than them, he was severely outnumbered.  “Stop— that’s personal!” Angus demanded to no avail.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my hand after having you,” Kountze continued with a laugh.  “From what I hear from your roommate, Tully, your hand is treating you just fine.”

“Shut up,” Angus hissed, but his words had lost their bite as his humiliation grew.

“I should’ve told you before I left—” he started, but finally Angus found some new strength within himself to shake off the boys holding him back: he dove at Kountze and took him down, scrambling to snatch the card away.  He was going to be satisfied with just that, but of course Kountze still had to open his mouth, even when Angus had him pinned.  “Jesus, Tully,” he scoffed, “how ugly is this chick that you got her to sleep with you?”

Angus brought a fist swiftly down to Kountze’s nose, who groaned in pain and held his face as Angus got up and ran away.  The other boys let him pass, thankfully, and Angus wasted no time getting to his room and slamming the door behind him.

Defiantly wiping a tear from his cheek, Angus took a quick look at the letter— wrinkled, stained and scuffed from the fight with Kountze— and crumpled it up, tossing it into his wastebasket before throwing himself onto his bed and hiding his head under the pillow.

He was stupid to even write it, let alone consider sending it; it was no use, you obviously didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about you.  You were the one who said it should just be what it was— a fling.  But Angus felt like he’d been flung directly into hell, the way it tore into his chest to imagine you didn’t really want him.

Even if he never read the letter again that day, he remembered how it ended— and it was the part he couldn’t get out of his mind even when he wanted more than anything to forget it all.

Is this what love feels like?

//

It reminded you a lot of that dinner over Christmas break, except somehow, it seemed like he was staring at you even more.  Shouldn’t he have gotten that out of his system a bit by now?

But then again, maybe you should’ve been more used to it, since it had been over an hour of picking away at this quail dinner, and he’d barely taken his eyes off of you.  Something about him looked different; it was basically impossible that he could’ve visibly aged in just a couple months, and yet he seemed like he was carrying just a bit more age on those thin shoulders.  Maybe it was just the slight five-o-clock shadow over his jaw— but, no, there was a different look in his eyes, too—

Realizing you were, in fact, staring back at him, you quickly snapped your gaze back down to your plate.

You’d been wanting a chance to talk to him before this dinner, to hopefully prevent exactly this issue, but once the dinner ended you found yourself avoiding him.  Of course you weren’t ready to talk to him— of course you had a million thoughts in your head and half of them didn’t even make sense.

For once, you actually tried to talk to all of your parents’ snooty friends, repeating the same answers over and over about how you were going to graduate school in the fall and how you were looking forward to your family’s Paris trip in the summer and all that jazz.  It was worth it to keep Angus off your back for a moment, even if you could still feel his eyes boring into said back from time to time.

Midway through a mind-numbingly boring conversation (if something so one-sided could be called a conversation) with the Gordons about renovations they’d done on their summer house, you glanced around the room over your shoulder and noticed that Angus was apparently absent.  His parents were still there, sitting on a couch— that is, his mom and stepdad— so he couldn’t be far, but out of view he was far enough.  Figuring he’d gone to the kitchen or the restroom, you figured it was the perfect time to disappear into the downstairs bedroom and, hopefully, hide out for the rest of the party.  Excusing yourself quickly, you made a polite dash for the other end of the room.

And yet, somehow, he appeared out of thin air; as you turned down the hallway, only a dim lamp on an antique credenza lighting your way, you heard Angus’ hushed voice behind you.  He laid his hand on your shoulder, and the moment you turned to face him, he was on you— his weight pressed you into the wall and you felt trapped in a way that was annoyingly pleasant.

“God, I missed you,” he breathed, kissing you hard and sudden; you whimpered a little, nearly melting into it, before you pushed him back at his shoulders.

“A-Angus, wait,” you sighed.  “You, um… you didn’t call for a while.”

“Oh,” he mumbled, “um, I’m sorry— I just got busy with midterms and stuff— but I really wanted to!”

He moved like he was about to kiss you again, but you kept your hand on his chest to keep him away.  “I wanted to tell you…” you trailed off.

“Tell me what?”

“You remember Brian Stevenson?” 

“Oh— um, yeah, I guess so,” Angus frowned a little, clearly confused by what seemed like a non sequitur.  “I used to go over to his house when I was little, although it was just to play with his little brother, but… yeah, I remember him.”

“I’ve been sorta, y’know… going with him,” you explained, hesitantly meeting Angus’ gaze just in time to see the most terrible sadness cover his face.

“O-oh,” he choked out, quickly stepping back from you and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, twisting your loafer-clad foot on the carpet nervously.  “It’s just, you know, he asked me out a couple weeks ago, and ever since then—”

“So is he, like, your boyfriend?” Angus pressed.  You nodded.  He looked away.  “Right— that’s… cool.  That’s cool.”

You bit your lip slightly, hating that he wouldn’t look at you all of a sudden.  “Angus, it’s just that, you know, we said—”

“Right,” he interrupted sharply.  “Right, I remember what we said— what you said, that we weren’t— you know.  That it wasn’t anything.”

“I didn’t say that—” you tried to correct him.

“You said you were mine,” he added suddenly, making your eyes widen.  “Did you even mean that?”

“I— Angus, come on,” you laughed nervously.  “That’s… that’s just something people say…”

He scoffed, and looked to the side as he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek; contempt looked sort of good on him, you thought, except that it was directed at you.  He was trying to hide it, but his eyes were watering.

“I’m sorry,” you began but he cut you off right away.

“No, don’t do that,” he shook his head quickly, crossing his arms and staring down at the floor.  “Don’t lie to me anymore.”

“No— I really am,” you tried to assure.

“Hey, it’s fine,” he insisted sharply.  “It’s— you know, it is what it is.  It was just one of those things.”

“If it’s fine, then look at me,” you pleaded.  He didn’t.  And for a long moment, the two of you stood there, still and silent.

“It’s fine,” he repeated softly, turning on his heel.

“Angus, wait,” you hissed, not wanting to raise your voice with all the guests not too far away— of course, it was fruitless, and he briskly blended back in with the crowd.

Sighing, you dropped your head into your hands.  That wasn’t how you ever wanted this to go, you never wanted to hurt him; honestly, you’d assumed he’d be irritated, but not… sad.  Not devastated.  Of course he would prefer to be getting laid, but you figured he wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some other girl to screw around with— sometimes, you’d wondered if he already had.

It was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be casual, it was supposed to be fun.  You couldn’t think of anything you’d ever done, or anything you’d ever felt, that was less fun than this.

//

It made a strange sort of sense that the next time you saw him was at another party.  Of course, this party was entirely different from the last one: for one, it was hosted by your boyfriend, and there sure as hell wasn’t any quail.  There was a lot more alcohol, though.

You were hanging off to the side, not feeling quite up for mixing in with the crowd as they danced to the record Brian had put on.  Even if they spared you from the same boring questions that your parents’ friends bombarded you with, they were uninteresting in their own way as every conversation seemed to come back to politics or pot.

Brian startled you a bit by coming up beside you, resting his hand on the small of your back.  “Hey,” he greeted, and you smiled up at him.  Your eyes lingered on his face— he looked… grown up.  It was probably just because he had a beard; he certainly didn’t always act grown up, but overall, Brian was perfectly acceptable.  He’d asked you out, he’d actually had the bravery for that, so that was a great head start.

You tried to shake the thought out of your mind, looking away from him; it wasn’t a head start because this wasn’t a race.  Who, after all, would he be racing against?

For some reason, your eyes turned to the front door— and you bit your lip as you saw Angus coming inside, slipping off his coat and looking around the room (for you, presumably).  He looked even more haggard than before: a little pale, eyes sunken and dark, and he definitely hadn’t shaved since you saw him.

Brian looked to find where you were staring, and frowned slightly.  “Who’s that?” he asked.

“Oh, um— Angus Tully, his parents are friends with mine, I used to babysit him when he was a kid.”

You knew that wasn’t really what he was asking, so you weren’t surprised when he got to the point more directly: “What’s he doing here?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, hoping Brian wouldn’t somehow figure out that your heart was racing.

Brian’s hand moved up to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze, just as Angus noticed you and hurriedly shoved his way through the crowd to come face-to-face with you.

“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice raspy and hurried as he took a quick glance at Brian in his peripheral.

“Um— sure,” you agreed awkwardly, not sure which answer would be less suspicious.  Of course, when you glanced at Brian, he just looked mildly annoyed— bored, even.  You realized in that moment that you didn’t need to worry about him suspecting you and Angus of anything, because he barely registered Angus’ existence: he certainly wouldn’t acknowledge him as some kind of sexual threat.

“Privately,” Angus added— and that actually got Brian’s attention, though he seemed more aware of your discomfort than anything.

“Anything you wanna say to her, you can say in front of me,” Brian assured firmly, and Angus swallowed anxiously— it was obvious from the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“Actually, uh, somebody was looking for you out front,” Angus told him.  “Something about a keg getting delivered to the wrong house?”

“Shit,” Brian hissed, dropping his hand from your shoulder and looking towards the door again.  “Fucking idiots…”

Having made quick work of Brian, Angus put his attention back on you.  “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.

“W-we can just talk here,” you tried to say, but he was already grabbing your wrist and guiding you out; why did your heart still skip when he touched you?

Once he’d taken you through the kitchen and out to the back porch— where you could still hear the music and chatter, but it was much quieter— you spoke.

“Angus, I really am sorry about— you know— but you can’t just—” you started.

“It’s not over yet,” he insisted, surprising you with his intensity; you leaned back against the wooden railing, and he stood just a little too close with those dark brown eyes piercing through you.

“If you tell me you’re happy with Brian, I’ll leave you alone,” Angus decided, puffing up his chest a bit.

“I’m happy with Brian,” you said sternly.

A brief moment passed.  “Okay, I lied,” Angus admitted.

“Jesus,” you hissed.

“But only because I don’t believe you!” he explained.  “We were so good together.”

“Yeah, we were,” you admitted, “but… it’s over now.”

“No— it’s not.  It can’t be!” he insisted with a whine, and you scoffed as you shook your head.

“Angus, you’re being childish,” you scolded.

“Oh, don’t say that,” he grimaced.  “Don’t hold that against me— I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Of course you’re not— but you’re not thinking clearly.”

“Damn right I’m not!” he spat.  “You’re all I could think about, for months!  Months, I couldn’t fucking get you out of my head!  And not just the, you know, the dirty stuff— everything.  Every moment I spent with you, every dumb thing we talked about for hours, every time you laughed at one of my shitty jokes—”

“Angus, please,” you breathed, glancing down; you could only take so much of this, and you worried he was figuring that out.

“Does he make you laugh?” Angus pressed, stepping a bit closer to you.  “Does he make you feel special?  Does he make you come?”

“Yes,” you said sharply, “he’s great, okay?  I’m happy— so please just stop fucking this up for me.”

“Okay, fine,” he conceded, “you’re happy, I believe you.  But… but what about me, y’know?  He doesn’t need you like I do.”

Your face warmed up and you crossed your arms tighter, staring down at the ground.

“Of course he likes you— who wouldn’t?  But he couldn’t even imagine how I feel about you— how long I’ve been thinking about you.  I mean, I’ve wanted you since I was a kid!  You’re my dream girl!”

“That’s— that has nothing to do with me,” you tried to explain.  “That’s a fantasy!”

“But it’s real, baby,” he sighed, bringing his hands up to gently hold your arms at either side.  “It’s so real, you know it is.”

You didn’t even have the heart to deny it— or to tell him not to call you that.  You knew if you looked up at him, you wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore; he must’ve known that, too, because he delicately lifted your chin until you met his gaze.

And then he kissed you: tender, sweet, and shameless.  He didn’t care if anyone saw, if anyone knew— even Brian.  You, on the other hand, still cared enough to try to stop him; but even you couldn’t resist a kiss like this, and you found your hands pulling him closer as quickly as they’d tried to push him away.

He took you home, without another word about what this meant or where you stood with each other.  You snuck him into your room and he climbed into bed with you and he touched you like he’d been waiting a lot longer than just a few months for this moment.  Frankly, you were beginning to realize that you’d been waiting a lot longer for this, too.

Before, Angus had always been talkative during sex— sometimes annoyingly so.  But this time, he didn’t say a damn thing; neither of you did.  And yet, somehow, just by the way he looked at you, just by the way he held you, just by the way he moved inside you... you felt like you heard more than you ever had.

//

You sat next to each other on the bench, staring forward into the dark treeline ahead— there was still a layer of frost around their roots, and a new snow had begun to fall even if it wasn’t cold enough for it to stick on the pavement.  You tried not to look at him too long, in case it made this any harder, but you did appreciate that he seemed a bit more put together than he had the last time you went a few days without seeing him.  He was clean-shaven, too… is it wrong that you kinda missed the stubble?

“Thanks for, you know… giving me a couple days to think about it,” you mumbled, and he nodded.

“I thought you might have somewhere better to be on a Friday night,” he said— trying to lighten the mood a bit, you could tell; trying to make you comfortable.

“Well, even if I did, I think this needs to be done,” you explained, and he pressed his lips together a bit.

He waited patiently, though, for you to break the silence and explain yourself, even if he didn’t seem too surprised when you did it.

“It was a mistake,” you decided.  “It was great, but it was a mistake— and I’d really appreciate if we could just… let it go.  And if you didn’t tell Brian.”

“Okay,” he nodded slowly.  “I wasn’t gonna tell him.  But I still think you should dump him.”

“Well, that’s my decision,” you reminded him, crossing your arms.

“I know,” he breathed.

You could already tell, just by the way the next silence began, that he was going to interrupt it with something stupid… you just never expected how stupid.

“The thing is— I love you,” he blurted out suddenly, turning to look at you again as your eyes widened.  “I fucking love you.”

“Angus, I— you can’t—!” you choked out, but he continued before you could try to think of a response.

“I know I do— don’t say I don’t know what that is, or that I’m too young or something stupid like that,” he pleaded.  “I know how I feel, okay?  When you miss somebody this much, when you think about somebody this much— what else could love be, but that?”

You sighed, looking away, and he moved closer to you on the bench.  Even if you knew it was preposterous that someone else would be in the park at the end of the street at this time of night, you still fought the urge to look over your shoulder.

“Don’t tell me I’m crazy,” he breathed.  “You love me too, don’t you?  I mean— I thought you basically forgot I existed, but last night… that sort of thing doesn’t just happen, does it?  It’s not… it’s not usually like that.”

“No, it’s not,” you admitted, “that was different.”

He perked up, smiling wide when you looked at him again.  “Just say it,” he begged, “say you love me too— ‘cause I know you do.”

“I— Angus, it’s more complicated than that,” you explained.  “We’re still— there’s Brian, for one thing… we can’t really go on like this, you know that.”

“I know— I don’t want to keep doing this.  I want to really be together,” he replied.  You tried to turn your body away from his slightly, but he grabbed your hands and held them tight until you looked at him again.  “I’m almost done with high school— I’ll go to college where you’re going for grad school!”

You shook your head.  “No, you can’t do that.”

“Just think about it: us, together— we could actually go on real dates, and go to college parties together, and, like, study out at the library— or, you know, whatever you college kids do,” he fantasized.  You smiled, but shook your head again.

“We… we can’t do that,” you denied.

He frowned, and turned away from you, staring darkly at the ground.  “I knew it,” he mumbled, shaking his head.  “You’re embarrassed— you’re ashamed of me.”

“What?!” you blurted out.  “Angus, no—”

“It’s okay,” he said in a terribly unconvincing way, crossing his arms.  “I don’t blame you: I’m just some dumb kid from your hometown.  You want a guy your age— not some random freshman… you want something better.”

“That’s bullshit,” you replied instantly, “you can do so much better.”

“C’mon, I’ll never do better than you,” he insisted.

Even though he’d misunderstood you, your heart still swelled a bit at the compliment.  “I meant for college, Angus,” you explained, and he deflated a little.  “You can do a lot better than a state school.”

“Well, I, um… I don’t know if I can,” he admitted nervously.  “My grades are kinda… inconsistent.  And I went to so many different high schools—”

“Who gives a shit?” you scoffed.  “You’re fucking smart— way smarter than anybody else here.  You act like an idiot sometimes, but you’re eighteen, it kinda comes with the territory.”

He frowned, but couldn’t exactly deny it.

“You deserve to go somewhere amazing,” you told him.  “You need to go somewhere amazing— and do something amazing.”

For a long moment, he just stared out into the dark; until, suddenly, he whipped his head back around at you with a quizzical look on his face.  “Wait— is that what this is all about?”

“What?”

“Do you not want to be with me because you think you’d, like, hold me back or something?” he accused.

You blinked quickly; something about the way he said be with me caught you off-guard— like it was a term much more mature than you had expected from him.  Instead of answering directly, you just stammered.  “Well, y-you’re young, and—” 

He cut you off quickly with a laugh.  “Oh my god!  You think I give a shit about that?”

“No,” you shot back, “but you should.  You realize how fucking dumb it would be to change your whole life for the first person you ever slept with?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds dumb,” he admitted, looking down at his feet swinging over the edge.  “But what if it’s somebody that, you know, you think you really have a shot with?  What if it’s somebody that you feel like you can’t live without?  Somebody that makes you finally get all those songs you hear on the radio—”

“It only feels like this to you because you’ve never felt anything else,” you explained gently.  “It’s your first love.  It fades.”

“But I don’t want it to,” he said instantly, looking at you with the most heartbreaking eyes you’d ever seen.  “God, I don’t want it to.”

You looked up at him as his hand brushed over your face, and felt tears welling before you could fight them off; he kissed you, in a way that you thought he might have never really kissed you before.  In a way nobody had kissed you before, in fact.  It wasn’t very long, but it felt like it might as well have gone on forever.

When he broke away, he kept his eyes shut, and he pressed his forehead to yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.  “Tell me it doesn’t have to end,” he breathed, “please.  Tell me it’s not going to end.”

“It has to,” you whispered back, watching his shoulders sink and bringing your hand up to clutch at his chest.  “It has to end, someday.”

You took a shaky breath, watching a tear fall from his jaw onto your arm, feeling everything you’d held back finally breaking through as your grip on shirt tightened and your lip began to quiver.

“But it doesn’t have to be tonight,” you sighed.

Gasping with relief and joy simultaneously, he kissed you again, and pulled you closer at your waist, and wrapped you up in his arms tightly.

There was, of course, this nagging voice at the back of your mind— that maybe it didn’t have to end.  And god, you wanted to silence that thought permanently if you could, because it had never done you any good.  That hope had only ever led to pain before.  But, without it, nothing would ever really have a chance: if you weren’t willing to risk the heartache, you’d never let yourself love Angus the way that he deserved and the way that you knew, deep down, you already did.

So, as he kissed you that way you thought people only kissed in movies, and whispered to you those words you thought people only said because they were poets and dreamers, you realized that maybe it didn’t have to end someday.  Maybe he would spend the next several years of your lives convincing you that you didn’t need to protect yourself from your own feelings.  Maybe he would actually have the patience to break down walls he never built, to fix wounds he didn’t leave.  Maybe he was ready to give you something to believe in, something worth taking risks for while you were still young and reckless.  Maybe he, like the oncoming equinox, would melt your ice so new life could grow.

Or, maybe, this feeling he had really would fade once he gained a little more life experience; maybe you would make too many mistakes for him to forgive.  Maybe you would always be friends, or maybe you would have too much history to be able to see each other again.  Maybe you would grow apart— maybe you would have to brace yourself for that, to sit next to him on a cold dorm room mattress as you both realized it just wasn’t working anymore.

The most important thing that you realized in that moment— that eternal moment in his arms, in the dark, in the last snow of Spring— was that it didn’t matter.  It didn’t have to be forever to be perfect; it didn’t have to be the ending to be beautiful.  He loved you.  Even if you were still trying to figure out why, he loved you; and that was true, and real, and special.  His love couldn’t fix you, but it made you feel fixable, and you hadn’t seen yourself that way in a long time— you could only dream that you might see yourself the way he saw you.

When you pulled back from the kiss for a moment, you smiled wide— you laughed, actually— and sniffled as he wiped your tears away.  “I love you,” you told him, and even though he kissed you again, you didn’t stop saying it.  You wanted to keep it on your lips until it didn’t scare you anymore; you wanted to keep your heart open, even if it made you vulnerable, maybe because it made you vulnerable.  After all, you couldn’t ever be sure it wouldn’t come back to bite you… if you could, it wouldn’t mean anything.

Even though all you said to him was I love you, each one meant something a bit different.  I trust you.  I’m not sure I’m ready, but I’m going to try.  I’m sorry.  I’m so glad I met you.  I’ll never forget you.  Please don’t let me go.

Somehow, you felt like he heard each one.  Each time he told you that he loved you, though, you heard the same thing: I won’t let you go, ever.

//

Easter Mass was relatively pleasant, if a little too long.  You did notice Angus sitting with his family, across the aisle and a few rows back, but you only gave him a quick wave before the service started and managed to resist glancing back at him after that.

The best part of Easter was always afterwards, though: you stood at the furthest end of the lawn, in front of the ivy-covered exterior wall of the chapel, as children ran around snatching up colorful eggs to collect for their baskets.  Even if it was totally stupid, and irrelevant to the actual message of the holiday that the priest had just spent the whole service hammering in, you got a kick out of the fancy clothes and tiny dress shoes, the squeals of delight, the candy and toys in bright pastels.  You were just thankful the weather had warmed up in the nick of time for all the festivities— indoor egg hunts never have quite the same effect.

Angus sauntered up beside you, sipping on a styrofoam cup of complimentary coffee, and you didn’t even look at each other, but you both smiled.

“They’re cute,” he stated after a little while.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Do you wanna have a kid?” he asked, and you gave him a hesitant glance only to find him looking right back at you— his expression was friendly, but neutral enough that you couldn’t read if he meant having a kid with him or just, you know, in general.

Deciding it must be the second one, you let out a soft, nervous laugh.  “Uh, I dunno… maybe someday,” you offered, as non-committal as possible.

“How about right now?” he challenged, lowering his voice slightly, but not enough to stop you from glancing around to make sure nobody heard.

“Angus, fucking Christ,” you coughed.  “Don’t joke about that.”

“I’m not,” he shrugged.  “I mean, maybe I’m not being literal, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being serious.”

“Well… we can’t,” you mumbled, looking out at the lawn again, hoping not to stand out too much.  “Not here.”

“I know, I know,” he agreed, and the two of you fell back into a silence— an oddly comfortable one, even.  You crossed your arms as you watched the kids run around and he kept sipping on his coffee.  After a few moments, though, you spoke again.

“Meet you in the Sunday school room in the West wing in five minutes?”

“Yup,” he said, already turning to leave.  You smiled slightly to yourself, glancing down at your white shoes planted in the grass.  Even on such a delicately-manicured lawn, wildflowers were already springing up— little periwinkle diamonds scattered here and there.

When what felt like a reasonable amount of time passed, you made your careful and casual exit from the egg hunt to slip back inside.  Once you were away from the crowds and on your way to meet Angus, you couldn’t stop yourself from running… and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, either.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

silent treatment

words: 900

warnings: drug dealer rafe, established relationship, arguing but its very fluffy throughout and never actually serious

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @drudyslut @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl

“rafey, are you almost done?” you ask, causing him to turn his head to look at you for the first time since you both entered the party and parted ways for rafe to do business.

“come here, baby.” rafe beckons you closer, so you cross the line of people waiting and take a seat on the couch next to rafe. “what's wrong?”

“nothing's wrong, i just miss you.” you pout, lacing your fingers through rafes. “i know you're selling right now but i thought we would be able to hang out tonight.”

rafe looks at the line of people waiting, then down at his stash. “im almost sold out, yeah? think you can wait ten more minutes?”

“can i sit here?” you ask, and when rafe nods you curl up against his side. he has to shake your hand loose as the next person walks up, buying some drugs that rafe would never in his life let you touch, but had no problem selling to other people.

you busy yourself with playing with a loose strand on rafes shorts as the packets in front of him dwindle down to only one small baggie of white powder left. rafe pockets it, shooing the rest of the people waiting away, telling them to come find him at the next party.

just when rafe finishes counting the money and you expect to get up and actually enjoy the party with your boyfriend, barry takes a seat on the armchair across from you.

“how was tonight?” he asks.

“sold it all, kept a baggie for myself.” rafe splits the money and hands most of it to barry for getting him the supply, pocketing the rest for himself.

“im getting a new shipment in tuesday-” you stop listening as they start to talk business again, linking your hand with rafes and rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. you begin to stroke his arm with your other hand, craving any sort of attention from him.

“baby, stop, you're distracting me.” rafe says, pulling his hand out of your grip.

“sorry.” you whisper, looking between barry and rafe, wondering how much longer they're going to take.

“can i sit on your lap?” you ask, knowing rafe doesn't care about others seeing your pda so he shouldn't mind, he's let you sit on his lap in the past, he's even pulled you onto it himself.

rafe sighs, rubbing his forehead before sitting back, pulling you onto his knee so you're purched on the edge.

you groan, knowing that this isn't what you asked for as you turn to frown at rafe.

“baby, why are you being so clingy tonight?” rafe asks, pulling you by your waist into him so your side is pressed against his chest.

“im not.” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

“yeah, you definitely are. won't even let me talk to barry for ten minutes without getting all whiney.” rafe says, a small smile on his face, but it doesn't placate you, it just annoys you.

you stand up, moving away from rafe and leaving him to do whatever the fuck he wants with barry.

--

“baby, you didn't talk to me all night, please don't give me the silent treatment again today too.” rafe says, attempting to press a kiss to your shoulder, but you just move away to continue making pancakes. rafe keeps his eyes on you as you move about the kitchen.

you plate your pancakes, leaving the rest for rafe to get himself if he wants them and walk into the dining room. you're glad for the music you put on to drown out the silence at rafe sits across the table with his own plate.

you eat without looking up at him, somehow able to keep yourself quiet.

“so you're giving me the silent treatment but still made enough pancakes for me?” rafe asks.

you simply shrug, getting up to finish your pancakes in the kitchen.

“here, let me do the dishes.” rafe comes barging into the kitchen, interrupting you from beginning to clean. you simply shrug and walk away, not even giving him a thank you. you listen to him start to clean up, snickering silently at his grumblings to himself before heading upstairs to get changed.

“what are your plans for today?” rafe asks when you reemerge downstairs, wearing a simple outfit of leggings and a t-shirt. you give rafe a pointed look, one to reinforce the fact that you are not speaking to him before walking away.

rafe leaves you alone for a few hours when he is in the home gym working out. you peak through the glass doors a few times to admire his sweat sheened muscles, but don't let him catch you and go back to scrolling on your phone on the couch when he starts to clean up.

“im gonna go shower.” rafe calls as he passes through the living room. “care to join me?”

“no.” you call back.

you hear rafe stop in his tracks, halting and turning back to face you. “you just talked to me.”

“that doesn't cou-AHHH!” you shout as rafe jumps over the couch, dropping his body over yours as he presses kisses to your face, your phone long forgotten as it falls to the floor.

“im still mad at you, fuck off.” you say, but giggle the entire time, unable to resist his kisses.

“baby, you can tell me to fuck off or that you're mad all you want, just never ever give me the silent treatment again, i was going crazy.” rafe presses your lips together in a kiss and you give in, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“it sounds like you're the clingy one now.” you grin at him.

“absolutely.” rafe nods in agreement.