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#he watched it and was like ''shit maybe I went a little too hard with this one''
dumblilb · 1 day
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I Could Be Enough
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Vi x Fem!Reader
(Synopsis: They weren’t super close as children, but running around in the same crowd kept them in the know of each other. But years later she might be all Vi’s got left.)
(Warnings: drunk!vi, alcohol, mentions of physical violence ‘ not towards reader’, it’s mostly fluff, a little bit of angst, no mentions of physical attributes, just she/her pronouns, not proof read)
(Requested: yes)
(Words: 1,585)
* ・゚☆ 。・ * ・゚★ 。・ * ・゚☆ * ・゚☆ 。
You don’t even know how it got to this point. Sitting at the booth in a gross, sticky, and dark club, watching over a girl you didn’t think you would ever see again. And maybe you were right. Cause she’s not the same girl you remember running around the streets of the under city as a child. The one who always had a bright look in her eyes as she tried so hard to live up to her father’s name, and keep her siblings safe.
But one thing was the same behind those, now dark and sad, slate grey eyes. She was a fighter. In the most literal sense. She couldn’t keep her fist off a jaw if she tried. Night after night she would cover her distinct tattoos and red hair with dark paint. Disguising herself from the public who claimed her strength as a prize. Or maybe even hiding from herself. She wasn’t to sure anymore.
But as the nights carried on the paint got messier and the drinks were getting stronger. And it was hard to watch. But here you were. Watching. So hard you thought your eyes might bleed from all the strobing lights and smoke filling the air. Any other night you might have gone to bed. Ignored the aching feeling you had, and left her to party the rest of the night away. But you couldn’t. Because there she was also watching you. As she sloppily got up with a bottle in her hand and started to walk towards the exit, the urge to follow consumed you. Because you knew she wanted you too. She was practically begging. And so you did. Meeting her by the stairs leading to her small apartment.
“Thank god you came, I thought I was gonna have to drink all alone tonight.” She slurred and you sighed resting your hip against the wall, propping yourself up.
“What would you do without me.” You smiled at her. Trying not to be angry with how fucked up she sounds. Slyly taking the bottle from her and helping her steady by the waist you walk her home.
“You know you’re so pretty when you’re mad at me.” She sighs as you push her door open. You just roll your eyes. She’s been doing this for months. Ever since her first pit match. You were hired as a sort of nurse for the ring. Patching up the people who were getting their shit rocked, and the people doing the punching. Making sure they were healed enough for their next match. And the second you saw her step in that ring you knew it was her. Sure she looked a little different. But her deep upper cut. You could never forget that.
So you causally brought up growing up in the lanes while bandaging her fists that day. How you were pretty shy but always friendly with a boy named Ekko. And he had introduced you to his friends a few times. You could tell she remembered you. But she didn’t say anything. Which was okay. You could tell she didn’t really want to be known at that point. But as time went on she spent more time talking to you after matches. Sitting at the bar just trying to figure out how life got both of you here.
But she also found alcohol along the way. And that concerned you. She would always assure you she was fine. And you chose to believe her. Even though it sometimes seemed she would look right through you. Like she wished something else was there.
But even before the alcohol, the casual flirting was always there. Comments about how attractive you looked and how nice you were to her compared to the other fighters. Claiming you made her feel ‘so special’ and not just because it was coming from a beautiful girl like you.
So as you sit her down on her small bed and pull out some supplies to remove her makeup you can’t help but shake your head at her.
“Your dumb fake flirting isn’t going to get you out of this one vi. You’re a mess.” You sigh pushing her hair back with one hand, removing her makeup with the other.
“It’s not fake and you know it.” She rolls her eyes. “I want you. Please.” She says griping the hand with the cloth in it. Rubbing her thumb across your knuckles softly. The difference between her ruff scared hands and yours now glaringly apparent.
“You’re drunk and exhausted, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bit of a concussion after today’s match. I haven’t seen you get hit that hard in a while.” You say ignoring her advances. As you’ve done before.
“I’m fine. You know I’m fine.” She reassures you. But the wavering of her eyes says otherwise.
“I know you think you’re fine-“ you remove your hand from hers and finish wiping her face. “But I see you, Vi. And this isn’t fine.” You say pointing from the bottle resting on her little table to her bruised fists.
She groans tossing her head back. And you gear up ready for a fight about how you don’t know what you’re talking about. But she rubs her eyes a little, her breath slowly becoming unsteady.
“You’re right I’m sorry.” She breathes out looking at you. The small bit of light roaming the room makes the wateriness of her eyes sparkle. “God I’m so tired and I don’t know what to do.” She cries.
You don’t even know how to respond. She’s never really cried in front of you before. She’s always been so tuff. But as she sits before you, even her toned and muscular body couldn’t make her look strong.
“I’m so lonely. All I have at this point is you. And you don’t even want me.” She continues and your face softens. Kneeling down in front of her you softly stroke her hair, pulling her in for a hug. She cautiously wraps her arms around you. Like just her touch might scare you away.
“You have me. You do. I think you have for a while now. I just didn’t think you were serious.” You reassure her. Her head nuzzles into the crook of your neck, and you can hear her breathing steady slightly.
“I’m always serious about you.” She says softly, it being a bit muffled by her position. She pulls away from the hug, resting her forehead to yours. “Can you stay please. I don’t want to be alone.” She asks quietly. Her warm breath hitting your lips.
“I’ll stay.” You grin and she moves to get up and grab a blanket. You help get her ready to lay down, removing her thick boots and setting aside the dirty cloth.
She props the blanket in your lap and she lays down. At first you just smile at how dainty she looks compared to how you usually see her. But her strong arm pulling you down next to her snaps you out of it pretty quickly.
Pulling the blanket over you both, you run your fingers through her hair. Analyzing her face one feature at a time. Her eyes seem a little more blue in this lighting. And you can finally see the small freckles adorning her skin.
“Are you trying to seduce me.” She asks with a soft laugh. “Cause it’s working.”
“Don’t get any funny ideas. That’s not happening. At least not tonight.” You say and you could have sworn her cheeks got a little pink.
“Well then you’ve got to stop staring at me like that… At least not tonight.” She jokes rolling over. Making you smile.
With her back to you, you place an arm around her waist holding her firm. You could feel her body stiffen and you try to remove your arm but she stops you. “No wait. This is good.” She whispers. “This is good.” And she holds your arm tight to her. Rubbing circles across it with her fingers. Her whole body relaxes against yours and you smile against her neck.
“You know I’m not that same girl anymore.” She sighs a little out of no where. But you get it, she’s trying to give you an out. A chance to run. You hum in response. “I’m different I think. I’m not as strong as I used to be.” She continues and you know she’s not talking about muscle, or brawn. She used to be a leader. Someone people looked up to. And now… most people didn’t even know her real name.
“That might be true. But that’s okay.” You say pressing a soft kiss to the base of her neck. “You’ve been through a lot. I think you’re holding on to a girl who didn’t know what life was yet. And you’re grown up. It’s normal to not be the same. Or feel the same.” You continue and she turns to face you. Caressing your cheek softly.
“I think maybe I can be okay. With you.” She muses. Placing a light kiss to your lips. Making you smile.
“Good cause I’m not going anywhere.”
You don’t know if tomorrow she would go back to drinking. Or if she would get her ass kicked in the pit. But tonight she was safe. And she was with you. And as she fell asleep to your heart beating against her, you couldn’t help but hope it could stay this way. Cause for you. This was enough.
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f1owermoon · 23 hours
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sorry i just. need to rant for a second
#cause dude the whole joost situation is SO fucking upsetting#he's mentioned over and over again how overwhelming this whole overnight success thing has been for him and to respect his boundaries#and instead of yk respecting his wishes “fans” go and make things worse by constantly overstepping and being creepy and weird like hello???#like why can't we all just be normal and take a step back and enjoy things#these people are gonna end up driving him off the internet and i wouldn't blame him one bit#and the worst part is the people who should get the memo obviously don't (or refuse to) bc this isn't an isolated instance#like its been going on for a while now#idk man i just think about how hard it must be for him rn#one of the things that turned me into a joost fan (besides his music) was his personality#like i obviously dont know him on a personal basis#but from the little bits ive seen he comes across as a really genuine and sweet and kind dude#super thoughtful as well. like i just love the way he thinks and his take on things#like i remember watching his eurovision interviews and just thinking oh man this dude's a ray of sunshine LMFAO#also the literal definition of resilience like dude's been through so much stuff and hes always managed to come out on top despite of it#and thats something i really admire about him too. like the way he put it as not letting your traumas be just that#but also something that can drive you forward#but yeah dude's had more than enough like he deserves to be happy and have some peace and ppl keep ruining it for him and it makes me upset#like i actually slept like shit last night and woke up feeling terrible and i wonder if what went down yesterday w the whole live thing#has anything to do with it lmfao#and you may be like ok well youre taking it too personally and letting it affect you#and yeah maybe youre right LOL but i cant help it i care about the guy and i want him to be okay#he seems to have a really good support system though so i hope things blow over soon and he can finally have some peace#anyway. rant over! 💋#raquel speaks
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yanderenightmare · 2 months
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TW: implied nsfw, implied noncon/dubcon, poly yanderes, sprained ankle, captive reader, apocolypse au, talk of fertility, murder of unnamed characters, mentions of potentially killing reader
fem reader
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Just thinking about the apocalypse, the two army men who’ve long survived it in their shelter with barely any trouble, and then you, a poor girl trying hard to outrun your last captives only to run into them.  
You didn’t realize back then that it was like trading piranhas for sharks, too caught up in begging for their aid to think better of it. You should have just kept running, but your ankle was sprained badly, maybe even broken, and you were wearing so little you would most likely have died from the cold during the night if they hadn’t taken you in.
It seems unfair of them to have kept the giant bunker all to themselves, only the two of them, but you don’t judge. You would likely have kept it all to yourself as well.
This new world has bred new humans, and they’re all monsters. It’s honestly quite surprising they’d even let you in, given this is what they’re protecting, this sanctuary from the past, a comfort most people would kill their closest friend in exchange for.
Trust is all but dead, and so is honor or any other morality—you would know, you’ve lived out there for it all, only having survived by spreading your legs at the right moments. It’s a shameful tactic, and many times, you’ve wondered if it wouldn’t have been better to spare yourself and just die. What was the purpose?
This—you think. This must be it. They have showers and working hot water.
You don’t know how it’s possible—the original owners of the shelter must have been some type of millionaire. You haven’t had a warm shower since the world went to shit—years ago. It’s been a choice of waiting for rain or finding a lake, hoping it wasn’t rancid. Meanwhile, they have soap—scented soap, the lush kind you’d forgotten existed. It feels so nice you have to cry—rejoice—sobbing while lathering yourself, watching all the filth go down the drain, leaving you smooth-skinned once again for the first time in forever. You can’t remember having ever been so clean before, feeling reborn.
They have fresh clothes for you too—new socks and underwear, all clean fabrics, so much more than what you wore—pants, a shirt, and a sweater to keep warm. You didn’t know there still existed people who lived like the old days—you’d thought it was long gone, a bittersweet dream you sometimes have the pleasure of at night instead of the usual nightmares. Never had you thought you’d experience anything even remotely similar, but here you are—looking yourself in the mirror after so long, surprised to see a human looking back at you.
And they feed you. Not scraps, not leftovers, not rot, or days-old flesh from the last successful hunt—but freshly baked bread, vegetables, fruit—for fuck’s sake, they even have juice. You cry again while eating, and then you find yourself begging them again, “Please, let me stay—please, I’ll do anything. I can cook, clean, work—anything at all, I can do it, just please let me stay…”
You’re on your knees, forehead pressed to the heated metal floors—toasty and comforting, you think you could sleep better than ever right there.
“We’ll think about it,” one of them mutters as he gathers the plates. His voice was so harsh he might as well have said, not a chance. It’s clear by his frown that he’d rather send you right out again, leave you to the monsters.
“We’ll at least let you stay until your ankle heals, so don’t worry.” The other is more sympathetic, helping you up. “For now, let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted.”
It hadn’t crossed your mind that they’d have beds—actual real soft downy mattresses and duvets and pillows. The two of you help make it together. It feels so foreign that you wonder if you might have died earlier. Some years back, you wouldn’t have thought heaven would resemble a prison cell, but now it only made sense—safe metal walls and a bed. What more could one possibly want in the world?
“I’ll wrap your leg for you if you sit.” He holds out a bandage roll, gesturing to your ankle.
Blinking, you can’t even register what he’d just offered until he’s getting down on his knees before you.
You panic, then. Bandages are hard to come by—it hardly seems worth it. “There’s no blood, you shouldn’t waste it—”
“It’ll heal better and faster this way,” he adds reassuringly. His voice is so soft and compelling that you find yourself sitting down without further quarrel, even when it makes you feel spoiled.
He’s gentle with you—holding you steady while wrapping it just tightly enough to be supportive. There hasn’t been a man who’s touched you like it.
“Does that feel okay?”
You can barely tell he’s talking to you. It’s all so lost on you that you can only wordlessly nod your head.
He fastens it just as carefully before standing. “Is there anything else you might need?”
You shake your head just as wordlessly. You can’t believe how nice he’s being. It makes no sense at all. Not in this world. Not anymore.
“I’m sorry, but I’m gonna have to lock the door,” he apologizes with a sheepish look once standing on the threshold.
You’d been stuck thinking about how warm the room was, trying to remember a single time you hadn’t been freezing during the night. “That’s okay, I understand,” you say. After all, what’s a locked door in comparison?
“Good,” he smiles—it’s likely the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. “Alright then, good night.”
Once again, you’re left stunned. The last time you’d heard those words spoken must have been from a loved one long since dead. It makes your lip wobble again as you say it back, “Good night.”
It's strange—they could have left you for dead but didn’t. They don’t seem gullible—they can’t be if they’ve managed to protect this place for so long—but you suppose there still exist men who have a soft spot in their hearts for helpless damsels in distress.
As you sink into the comfort, draping your duvet atop your battered body, you don’t even care about the camera in the ceiling—blinking red while watching you.
“Did you have to bandage her up?” he grumbles as the other walks into the bedroom after having said his goodnights to you. 
He’s already in bed, observing through the cameras on a tablet—you were currently curling into the duvet, wrapping it around you close for comfort. You’d likely not slept on anything so soft in a while—it wouldn’t surprise him if you preferred the floor. But no, you drift asleep quite quickly.
“You know how badly things can heal without proper support,” the other answers, regarding it as no big deal. “And besides, it’s not like we often need it—we have plenty to spare.”
He removes his clothes and crawls onto the bed as well, lifting the covers to slot himself right next to the other man, who still has a scowl on his face.
“Oh, come on…” he drawls. “She’s exactly what we’ve been talking about, isn’t she?”
The grump doesn’t answer, still with keen eyes watching you, even as you’ve fallen asleep—as if waiting for you to do something befitting a wild animal in a cage. The other’s eyes fall to the screen as well, but he only awes in delight.
“Look at her, already fast asleep,” he purrs while zooming in on your face. “I mean, did you see how she was begging earlier, what she said? I’d do anything,” he continues, almost whining. “So cute, I could have fucked her right then and there.”
The other man sets the tablet aside with a disagreeing sigh. “We’ll wait at least a week for her system to detoxify from the wasteland,” he says strictly. “I’m not touching her before then, and neither are you unless you want to sleep alone.”
The other groans then, flopping down on his back. “Yeah, yeah, you and your safety protocols,” he dismisses before a smirk creeps up his face, glee twinkling in his eyes as he looks up at his grouchy counterpart. “But then we keep her, right?”
“Tch—we don’t even know if she’s fertile. The wasteland could have made her barren as long as she’s been out there,” the other shuffles down into the sheets as well, turning to look at his partner and the awfully keen look on his face.
“So we test her. Give her a medical check,” he says, again as if it’s not a problem, even when it very well could turn out to be.
They’ve already broken quarantine rules by letting you in here—and who knows what your real objectives truly are.
“I don’t trust her,” he states.
The other pouts. “I don’t see what one little lady can do—she’s hardly a threat. And we already purged the group that was following her. I doubt any of them made it out alive.”
True, he had gone out and sent several gas grenades into the settlement. Surely, none of them managed to escape, but then again—
“Pest control only works when you kill them all, and we’ve just let one inside our own house,” he grumbles.
The other one sighs. “Okay, so if it turns out she isn’t as cute as she looks, we’ll deal with her like the rest. But if I’m right, and she really is just a harmless little thing, we keep her, and I get to have the first go.”
Suppose there isn’t anything better to do aside from killing you straight away, which would only have been a waste of food, water, clothes, and bandages. 
“Fine.”
The other grins at the agreeance, humming, “I guess until then, we’ll just have to make do with each other—I've been hard since we watched her shower.” He leans forward for contact but is shut down as his bedmate rolls around with his back turned to him.
“Tch—take care of it yourself.” Tonight has been too stressful to tug each other’s dicks. 
He can hear him whine behind him, but he settles down soon enough.
Suppose it would be nice fucking a woman again. It’s been so many years he figured he wouldn’t need it anymore. They’ve made do with each other so far. But even he can’t deny, once you’d washed all the blood and muck off, once he saw the dewy hue of your soft skin and the silk of your hair, all those plush curves, and not to mention that awfully sweet look on your face—he felt the tug in his pants too.
He'll do a medical check on you tomorrow. He hopes you’re fertile. But even if you’re not, he might give in to the other’s wishes and keep you anyway. After all, they might have many luxuries, but the comfort of pussy is one they haven’t had in a long, long, long time.
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♡ BNHA – KiriBaku, BakuDeku, ShinKami, DabiHawks, EndHawks, ErasurMic ♡ JJK – SatoSugu, ItaFushi, SukuIta, ♡ HQ – Miya twins, KageHina, BokuAka, ♡ CSM – AkiDen, YoshiDen ♡ BLLK – NagiReo
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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sweetnans · 4 months
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Katsuki always paid attention to little details even when you were only a number in his mind. You ended number seven on the charts after the tests for UA application. He memorized the first ten and then recognized each one of you on the first day of class.
Your ID photo that appeared beside your score wasn't nothing alike like you were in person.
He completely flipped.
He pushed the feeling aside because he had no time to waste on stupid things, and he succeeded for a long, long time. Bakugo ignored you, pretended that you didn't exist and the fact that you were part of Midoriya's group the first months made it easy for him to keep you far away but that also made it hard to watch.
Why were you laughing at what shitty Deku had said? That fucker wasn't that funny.
Why was your hand on Deku's hair ruffling and combing it with your fingers?
He was fuming on the inside.
When Mina started to hang out with you, he was relieved that he won't have to see you with Deku again.
But then, you started to hang out with his group, and everyone loved you instantly. Kirishima always wanted to sparr with you, Kaminari always asked for your help on math and Sero, fucking Sero always inviting you to dance with him.
After he saw the behavior of his friends when it came to you, he almost preferred you hanging out with Deku.
He noticed that you smiled brightly every time Kirishima told you one of his dumbs jokes while having you pinned down on the floor mat after a sparr, but you never laughed.
He noticed your leg trembling under the table when you studied with Kaminari in the common room. He could bet that the bastard used every chance he got to flirt with you in the most hideous way.
He also noticed your pink tinted cheeks every time Sero gave you his hand for a quick dance around the kitchen.
Almost like you were uncomfortable with their demeanor.
You were pretty. He understood that they were making their moves to you, but you were just too shy and good to say anything to them, like you weren't interested at all for example.
One night, he couldn't sleep and went straight to the kitchen of the dorms to grab a glass of water. He never expected seeing you there scrolling in your phone leaning by the sink, waiting for the toaster to pop your bread out.
"You shouldn't be eating carbohydrates this late"
He startled you. He literally appeared from the shadows of the dining room dragging his feet, making no sound at all.
"Jeez, you should wear a bell or something," you giggled when he gave you a puzzled look. "Like a cat? So next time I know that you're coming?"
"I know what you meant." he walked to you and grabbed a glass from the rack.
He felt your presence in his bones like a static pulse vibrating under his skin. Maybe it was just your quirk trying to reach for him.
"What are you doing here this late?" You asked clearing your throat while he gulped his water in one go.
"What does it seem like I'm doing?" He pourred another glass. He wasn't that thirsty. He just wanted to be there in silence with you for minutes, without his obnoxious friends.
Your toast popped out of the toaster, and you grabbed it, burning your fingers in the process.
"Shit, shit," you exclaimed, blowing some air at your fingers to ease the pain.
"C'mere shithead," he grabbed your hand and put it under the sink, letting the cold water flow.
"It's fucking freezing" you tried to pull your hand back but his grip tightened.
"What did you expect? You just burned your fucking fingers doing the dumbest shit I've ever seen"
You didn't know if it was the serious tone on his voice or the way that he was struggling with you stopping you from taking your hand out of the water, but something about the scene made you let out a laugh, a big one. He had never seen you laugh like that before.
"Are you laughing at me?"
That question only made it worse. You were absolutely parting yourself from laughter. He turned off the water and watched you wipe your tears.
"I'm sorry, you're not that funny," you said, returning to your normal state. He grinned.
You passed by his side fetching your toast and poured some jam.
"Do you want some jammie toast with that water of yours?" You asked, offering a half eaten toast.
"Sure." he took the toast, and in return, he gave you his half glass of water.
After that encounter, he noticed that every time his friends were around you, you always tried to find him, looking for exchange glances, giving him a subtle smile.
He started to show up at your study sessions with Kaminari, and he noticed that your legs stopped trembling because his presence was enough for Kaminari to keep his mouth shut.
He also began sparring with you on training sessions switching partner with Kirishima leaving him with Sato.
And everytime Sero tried to dance with you in front of everybody he grabbed your arm and guided you to the kitchen or his room with a lame excuse to get you out of the situation.
Fortunately, his friend read the room pretty well. The three of them enjoyed more watching him play his cards with you than putting themselves on a constant shame.
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2tarbell · 16 days
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US — KOOK!READER
rafe cameron had been yours since the moment you met.
(drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)
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if anyone asked you, you’d say you never got jealous. what was the point? a seemingly endless waste of energy and your valuable attention — people would get on their knees in seconds for a chance to talk to you. a kook princess never got jealous.
which is why the stinging question of ‘why?’ bounced around your head as you watched rafe walk back over to the bar, a pretty head of dark hair awaiting him with an infuriatingly easy going smile.
sofia.
you only learned her name after she introduced herself with a little grin. something about the pogue was effortless and it was currently eating away at any confidence you might’ve had when you walked in.
your makeup felt heavy and your miniskirt too short, too tight — did you look trashy? like you were trying too hard? she was sweet; that girl next door energy you know you’d never have. no matter how much you cried and pleaded.
a bump to your shoulder interrupted your brooding, pretty glossed lips stuck together in a pout, mimicking the furrow of your brow. topper gave you a knowing look and a scowl met him. he chuckled dryly.
“earth to princess, hellooo?”
you rolled your eyes, directing your attention to your empty cocktail glass. the ice looked back at you mockingly — you’re the one who asked rafe to go get you another drink. stupid, stupid, stupid.
“go to hell, top.” the quip made your other best friend laugh, kelce reaching across the table to steal a fry from your untouched plate. how could you eat in a moment like this?
“what’s the problem? you’re literally pouting.” the boy mumbled.
the way kelce spoke through a mouthful of fried potato made you wince. a napkin is thrown in his direction, landing on the table lamely. boys are so messy, and nosey.
you huff dramatically, “ugh, it’s nothing. god, i miss when men went off to war and, like, died or something—“
your annoyed spiel is cut off by a drink being placed in front of you, the lime already squeezed in and floating amongst the cubes of ice. just how you like it. a warm hand rests on the nape of your neck as the chair beside you squeaks against the floor. that voice you know so well rumbling close to you.
“who’s dying?” rafe mumbles as he gets comfortable in the plush chair again, arm stretching behind your shoulders. the gesture is so casual and it makes your stomach twist.
his eyes are piercing when you look over at him — a smirk raises his lips and you fight the urge to slap him then kiss it off his stupid face.
“you — if you were gonna take any longer.”
the eye roll you receive is nothing out of the ordinary — rafe was used to your bitchy tendencies. but watching him chat with the bartender made a seed of doubt burrow into your mind. sofia probably wasn’t such a cunt. maybe that’s why he likes her.
“yeah, well, someone wanted a lime and they were out. sorta hadta wait for your shit, dollface…” rafe explained like it was second nature.
your passive aggressiveness never seemed to phased him, he always put up with it, with you. the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. it was masked with a glare.
you flipped your hair over your shoulder and crossed a leg over the other, stomach churning while you poked at the cocktail with the thin black straw. the conversation between the boys picked back up — blah blah, golf, topper whining about sarah, blah blah.
it was like the cameron boy sensed your disinterest. his arm on the back of your chair shifted, blunt nails now tracing up and down your spine. the contact made your back straighten before leaning into his touch.
it was pacifying for a while. his side profile caught your attention, nose sharp and sexy, cheekbones crafted expertly. he was so handsome it was unfair... she probably thought so, too.
god, why couldn’t you stop thinking about that pogue girl? was he charming and funny to her? maybe he played hard to get and dismissive. maybe her number was sitting in his pocket, scribbled on a napkin in perfect curls — fucking ew.
suddenly you became irritated. the thought of your best friend, your rafe thinking he could flirt with someone like her then slink back over to you. yeah, right. you weren’t that easy. you rolled your shoulders, shrugging off his touch. he shot you a look but didn’t say anything, just adjusted in his chair.
you were listening to the conversation even less now, anger and something you didn’t want to name boiling in your chest. stiff as a board, you picked at your food. only humming in acknowledgment when something concerned you. it was obvious something was the matter and your friends shared curious looks with each other but never asked you outright.
a warm palm tried to squeeze your thigh but you pushed his hand off. rafe clenched his jaw at your dismissal, feeling that familiar need for dominance over you and whatever fuckin’ attitude you decided to have today. with topper and kelce in a heated debate over something probably stupid, rafe leaned in — his breath was hot against your ear as he spoke in a low warning tone.
“don’t know what your fuckin’ deal is — but it ends now, yeah? eat.”
the glare you sent up through your lashes only stoked the fires of his annoyance. there’s a momentary stare off, eyes communicating thousands of thoughts and unspeakable feelings.
with a scoff you look away, feeling a lump form in your throat. no, this isn’t happening. you stand abruptly and rifle through your purse for a hundred before you throw it on the table, storming off with heels clicking.
the sound echoes in rafe’s head as he snatches the bill up, placing his card down on the table. he quickly follows after you, ignoring the way sofia’s eyes light up when he heads her direction.
“hi, rafe, i was just…” her words fizzle out in her tongue as she watches him pass her, marching after the pretty girl in a yellow top.
the small family bathroom offered a reprieve from the stifling nature of rafe’s presence and your own mind. looking in the mirror — you hardly recognized yourself. you shoved your purse onto the counter, feeling like your composure was completely lost.
eyes wide and teary, lips still glittery but trembling. this was only a version of you he could bring out. now, you found yourself wishing for the comforting weight of his words and gaze and — no, be strong. get it together.
the silence was broken by the door being pushed open with immense force. your head dropped, not trusting yourself to form a witty stab of words. within seconds he was turning you, body hard and pressing your back into the counter, reaching behind you and shoving the hundred dollar bill back into your purse. a wince left you when he gripped your jaw tightly with a hold unforgiving and questioning.
“fuck was that, huh? you— you were doin’ so well, dollface, and now—”
the words halted when he saw a shiny tear streak down your face. the way his eyes softened only pushed you further into despair. his hand moved, now cupping your face and running a thumb along your cheekbone. the wet pearl caught on his skin but once they started, they just kept coming.
soon you were in his arms, hiccuping and holding on for dear life. rafe rocked you with a tight hold — voice soothing despite the look of confusion on his face. he’d never seen you this upset before, this broken.
“hey, hey, woah — what’s’a matter? what happened?” he cooed.
his large palm smoothed over your hair as you pressed your makeup running cheeks to his chest. hugging rafe always made everything better, but now you can’t stop thinking about him holding her like this.
he spoke your name firmly, pulling your head back to look deep into your wet eyes. his stare was intense, worried and seeking answers.
“use your words f’me,” he pushed your hair back off your forehead as he mumbled. and if you were in your right mind, you would’ve shrieked about him ruining your hair.
“jus’— d’you like her?” you blubbered.
rafe was more than confused, his eyebrows drawn together tightly. he crouched down a little, trying to hear your meek voice better.
frustrated and distraught, you pushed him back weakly. a few more inches were put between you two — only a few seconds until he crowded you again, trying to soothe you.
“sofia, rafe! do you like her?”
your yelling had him stepping even closer. shaking his head quickly, confused and slightly irritated, rafe cupped your cheeks in his palms.
“okay, okay— i heard you. don’t scream. i don’t— i don’t even fuckin’ know her. stop, stay still—“
you were squirming, trying to get far from him. far from this and the horrible ache in your chest at just the thought him maybe, possibly—
“stop, i’m talking now. ‘m not— i don’t like sofia, okay? i don’t, y’hear me?” his voice was authoritative, freezing you in place. those blue eyes pleaded with yours for understanding, for trust.
despite the tension between you, his heart skips a beat as your gaze meets his. he sees the sparkle in your eyes, that fire mixed with a hint of softness that he’s so fond of. it gives him a glimmer of hope that maybe he can bridge this gap between you.
“c’mon. you know you’re my girl.”
you melt into him unconsciously, seeking that warmth his embrace always seemed to bring. you’re hugging each other tightly in the small bathroom. rafe stares at your figures in the mirror, watching as you nuzzle further into his arms. like you belong there.
with a sniffle, you tip your head back. feeling so small as you look up at his face. rafe leans down and presses a tender kiss to your mouth — moving slowly in a moment of raw vulnerability.
his voice is low, you feel the vibrations against your lips as he speaks softly, “i wouldn’t do that t’you… to us.”
he feels your body tense at his words, his hands squeeze your hips. with wide eyes you pull back from the kiss and gape at him. his touch is begging you to listen, to not freak out. the tears well anew as you let his words wash over you. us. he thinks there’s an us.
suddenly, it’s like you can breathe again. like all the nights feeling scared and confused without him seem worth it. all of it’s worth it to be in his arms like this, hearing him justify the feelings you’ve done everything to bury.
rafe cups your cheek in one hand, the other arm wrapping fully around your body. there’s something so tender and charged about the way he’s looking at you and wiping your crocodile tears away.
he’s begging you now, eyes flicking between yours, “you’re my girl, you know that. always gonna be us, a’ight?”
a light burns in your heart and you realize that you do know that. when has it ever been anything else? when has he not been by your side, dealing with your bullshit? rafe cameron had been yours since the moment you met.
with a shaky exhale you nod, leaning into his palm. the sight of you so fragile tears at his heart and rafe draws you in closer. his nose finds home in your hairline and he peppers kisses along your forehead. us.
the revelation didn’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth, insecurity still pecking at your mind.
“she’s probably easier to deal with.”
“nah, i don’t wan’ easy.”
he pulls back, holding the back of your neck to angle your face towards him. there’s a hardness to his gaze — like the very idea of easy is repulsing him. then he’s smirking and leaning in.
rafe presses a firm kiss to your mouth, tongue parting your lips and swallowing the hiccup of pleasure that slipped out. his leg wedges its way between yours, knee pressed snugly underneath your miniskirt. he’s devouring you completely unforgivingly. without thought, you roll your hips against his knee. the tension in your body melts away as the friction of his jeans meets your covered clit.
“mmf, rafe—”
“i don’t want easy,” his words accented by harsher presses of his leg upward, causing you to choke on air, “i want you. whiny and bratty and beautiful you. got it?”
nodding your head fervently, he smushes his lips against yours. lifting you onto the small counter and shoving a hand up your skirt, his hardness pressing thick and pulsing against your thigh. the kiss so messy and clothes haphazardly being pulled to the side. the spark of finally being seen, finally being acknowledged as his, fuels the moment.
the sex is slow and steady, a promise of commitment and dedication to this messy relationship. to each other. tears of pleasure and happiness collect on your lash line, pretty face scrunched in ecstasy only rafe could provide.
(and topper and kelce took his card and ordered five beers each.)
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actionyak · 1 year
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I recently watched the NIN Broken short film (which I somehow had never heard of? I haven't always been this out of the loop) and my recommendation is very don't.
unless you're really, really into new extremity movies then have a blast
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themultifanshipper · 1 month
Note
Could you do ⚫️ with oscar
Oscar could hardly believe his eyes.
He was halfway across the world, in a meeting, staring at the thumbnail of a video that you'd just sent him.
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Warnings: Sex tape(technically), masturbation, male and female, use of toys, a dildo specifically, dirty talk, mention on reader being innocent, and slight corruption?
Requested from my prompt list
He'd almost clicked on the video out of habit before his brain caught up to his eyes and he realised you were on the thumbnail, and there was very little fabric on your body.
He slammed his phone face down in his lap, and tried to contain the redness forming on his cheeks, as well as the hardness forming in his shorts.
He completely ignored the rest of the meeting, mind racing and trying to comprehend what he'd just seen.
You'd never done anything like this before, always keeping your sex life firmly between the walls of your bedroom.
Not that he was complaining, you were so sweet and innocent, it really turned him on when he thought of when he'd first met you.
You were so adorably naive, and he'd taken great pleasure in teaching you everything he knew. You were all his to corrupt and mold into his little slut.
But all of that stayed in the bedroom!
You'd never so much as sent a dirty text. Never mind a whole video of you doing god knows what while he was at work.
It was too late now, he was hard. And the meeting wasn't going to end anytime soon.
So he did what any rational horny man would do, he grabbed his phone, excused himself from the meeting and rushed to the bathroom to watch that video.
And what a video it was. Barely 10 seconds in, his shorts were already pulled down around his thighs and his cock was leaking into his fist.
“Hey baby, I hope you're having a good day at work” you purred.
The sound was turned down low but it seemed like the loudest thing in the universe to Oscar.
“I know you must feeling lonely at the moment so I decided to show you what I get up to when you're gone…”
Oscar was throbbing in his hand. He took a quick look at the time stamp, 00:24/08:56.
Holy fucking shit, no way was he going to last nine minutes.
You went to sit on the edge of the bed and he got a good look at you for the first time.
You were wearing a set of papaya lingerie. The bra was beautifully intricate, but it hid absolutely nothing, your nipples on display as your hands ran across your skin and went up to pinch them.
What caught his eye though, was your panties. Your crotchless panties.
Oscar felt a drop of precum slide down his cock that he refused to touch, lest he come too soon and ruin this experience.
“Do you like the set? I got it the day after you left. I already missed you so much I wanted something that reminded me of you.”
Oscar couldn't help it, he took himself in hand and squeezed lightly, just to take the edge off.
You climbed onto the bed and spread your legs. Even in the dim lighting, he could tell you were wet and god, you were going to be the death of him.
One of your hands trailed down your stomach and came to rest just above your shiny slit.
“Look Oscar, look how fucking wet you make me and you're not even here… it's pathetic”
Your hand went lower, to spread your folds for him, just to drive Oscar mad. And unbeknownst to you it was succeeding beautifully and then some.
Oscar growled at the sight, gripping himself harder.
Your fingers rubbed through your folds, wetting them just like he always did, before bringing them to your mouth for a taste.
Fuck.
Oscar glanced at the time again Only 2 and half minutes in? how was that possible, he felt like he'd been staring at your pussy for an hour now.
Or maybe he'd accidentally paused the video to stare at the work of art that was laying on his bed.
“I taste so sweet, no wonder you love spending so much time between my legs”
Your hand went back down to circle your entrance before dipping inside, and you let out a low gasp at the intrusion.
Oscar blacked out somewhere between that and the third finger, only realising he'd missed anything when you took your fingers out and sucked them clean, while maintaining intense eye contact with the camera.
Oscar was about to combust, and he'd also seemingly forgotten about his dick as his hand tightened suddenly and he groaned at the sight of you quickly getting off the bed.
Was it over?
He frowned and checked the time. The video was only just over half way through…
“Now for something I think you'll really enjoy…”
You pulled out of the bedside drawer what Oscar realised with a start was… a dildo.
Where the fuck had you been hiding that? He had no idea you owned it.
You grabbed some lube as well and it dawned on Oscar that this was why the panties were crotchless.
You were going to fuck yourself with a dildo on camera wearing his colour.
Fuck, he was so in love with you.
And he was so incredibly hard for you.
You lubed up the dildo and hovered over it, ready to sink down, when you stopped and looked up at the camera.
It felt like time had stopped for Oscar, he felt like you were staring straight into his soul as you uttered your next words.
“By the way Osc, I had this dildo modeled after your cock, so that I could fuck you even when you're not here”
And with that you sank down, and Oscar felt the air being sucked from his lungs, as if he were there and you were actually sinking down on him.
You moaned so loud it echoed against the tiled walls of the small bathroom and Oscar had to check the sound level on his phone.
You lifted your hips and dropped back down, a guttural sound escaping you as you threw your head back and kept moving your hips up and down.
Oscar spat into his hand and started jerking himself off furiously, eyes glued to where your cunt was split around the silicone.
“Oscar… you feel so fucking good. I love your cock so much.”
Oscar could tell you were close by the way your thighs trembled and your breathing got shallower.
“Fuck Osc, I'm not gonna last long…”
“Me neither, baby” he whispered “touch yourself for me, make yourself come on my cock”
You obviously couldn't hear him, but as if you'd read his mind your fingers went down your body and started vigorously rubbing your clit, letting out little cut off moans on every roll of your hips .
“Oscar!” you came with a cry of his name and that sent him over the edge as he did his best to aim into the toilet bowl, but he came so hard he actually crumpled and had to hold himself up to not fall on the floor.
The video ended and put itself back to the beginning.
He scrambled to turn it off as his post nut clarity hit and he realised where he was and how loud he'd probably been.
And because the universe was a bitch, a sudden knock rang against the door and Lando's voice pierced right through Oscar's inner peace.
“Mate, I know you miss your girlfriend but I really didn't deserve to hear that”
“Piss off” Oscar groaned and Lando cackled before sauntering off, laughter echoing through the corridor.
Oscar looked at his phone and noticed that you'd just sent him another text.
“did you enjoy my gift? ;) ”
It was out of the question to let you know exactly how much it had affected him so he took a deep steadying breath and typed out a short response.
“I can't believe you made a sextape… Without me :( “
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sp1d3rzz · 5 months
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pt.2
Can we talk about how much of a pervert Midoriya is???
Warning !! : Masturbation, degradation, and pussy eating. Lemme know if I missed anything ^^
Like think about it. Your average bullied 'weird' kid who honestly doesn't have a lot, (no friends, no quirk, and certainly no girlfriend) is just so dirty.
Uses his computer a LOT. You can't tell me he isn't sitting there jerking off to his oddly specific choice in hentai because he can't stop thinking about how girl's hand accidentally brushed against his while walking.
Poor thing probably doesn't even know the girl was definitely gossiping with her friends later about the accident.
"I mean, did you see the way his cheeks went bright red?" followed along with a few "yeah"'s and "that guy is so weird"'s.
Or maybe he does?? Maybe he imagines how much shit the girls talk about him so his orgasm comes even faster. Midoriya finds pleasure in someone who knows how to put him in his place.
His rough hand moving up and down his length, biting down extra hard on the hem of his favorite 'Plus Ultra!' shirt to keep him from making too much noise.
Groans and whines are heard from behind the door to his room as he trails a thumb over his slit, bringing the pre-cum around his tip to ease the tension. His head dips back and his eyes close.
He imagines the feeling of being stepped and shoved into the floor with the heel of his favorite hentai cosplayer. Insults and degrading words going through his ears and to the blood of which flows to his girthy cock.
"You're such a naughty boy, hm?", "Say it, say your mommy's naughty little boy.", "Want me to spit on you?...Yes?? Dirty bitch."
Saddest part is that he just can't help how he feels. Always becoming heated whenever a girl tells him how messy and improper his hair is.
Of course, she means it as a way to make him feel self-conscious about himself. But little does she know how he thinks about how it'd look even messier if she were to tug at his green strands while he ate her out like it was his last meal.
Mouth desperately sucking up the juices of her cunt as he moans and whimpers pathetically from just the pure taste of her warmth.
His nose swiping against her clit every time he adjusts himself to get a better angle. Arms wrapping around plush thighs to bring her closer to his face.
"Tastes— so good–" he'll buck his hips up into nothing just to cool his sensations. Eyes watch every move she makes, just to make sure he's doing this right. Just to make sure he's pleasing her.
And when she finally cums and scoots herself away from him, she see's her wetness and cum have coated his face messily. The sight might be sexy, but who wants to do anything more with a loser like him?
So when she gets up and leaves like nothing even happened (despite the fact she's practically shaking as cum leaks through her panties), he follows her to the door.
"B-bye!" he calls out, and isn't surprised when she slams her car door, starts the car, and drives away. Just a little hurt.
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servicpop · 5 months
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TOJI FUSHIGURO ⋆⋆⋆ msg series(?) pt.1
NSFW › toji has no filter and is just one big pervert
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It was a Saturday evening and you were settled on the carpet of your living room with your hands propped against the coffee table. You had an array of different colored nail polish lined up as you stared at them, debating which one to wear today. You enjoyed nail polish — even though it was seen as 'too feminine,' you thought painting your nails was a calming activity to do after long days of work. As you sat crossed legged on the floor, Toji was lazily draped over the couch, watching you silently.
He didn't care at all that you wore nail polish, sometimes you'd even convince him to wear some himself but he always stuck to plain black. He noticed your little situation, observing the way your eyes scanned over the options and the cogs turn in your head. It really wasn't that hard he thought.
"What are you thinking so hard about?" Toji questioned, his voice smooth but had a certain rasp to it from his nap 20 minutes ago. His voice catches your attention and you break away from your little trance, turning to face him, you explain your "crisis". It was an innocent question from him at first, until the corners of his scarred lips curled up and a shit-eating grin plastered on Toji's face.
"I have an idea," He starts slowly. You knew he was up to no good when he had that scheming smile, "Make your nails the color of my dick." You stare at him. You blink once, twice, maybe four times while you try and form a reply to that sentence.
"Huh?" Finally, a word comes out your mouth and you find yourself increasingly confused and pretty shocked the more you thought about it. Toji had no shame. "I don't– i don't have a color that matches..." Toji took some time to prop himself up with his elbows before pointing at one of your polishes.
"That pink one is pretty close," he pointed out, "Here, let's do a lil' color match yeah?" Before you could even react, Toji pushes himself off the couch and walks over to where you're sat, picking up the pink-ish nail polish and holding it in his palm. His other hand hooks the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls it down just enough. It was all so sudden, you weren't ready to be flashed! Its not like you haven't seen his body before, more like it still made you nervous seeing it. Heat spread through your cheeks and your head immediately turned to the side, a hand flew up to shield your poor eyes from Toji's shameless display.
"Pretty close," Toji scoffed with a smile. His eyebrows raised when he saw you shielding your eyes and he placed down the nail polish before turning to you, "Don't act like you haven't seen it plenty of times before," He laughed, letting his waistband snap back into place before curling his arms around your waist, picking you up with ease. He lifted you as if you were a stray kitten, moving to gently bend you over the coffee table, using his body weight to hold you flush against the glass.
"I think that color matches your skin real well doll," His voice dropped an octave and became more heavier and sultry. As he kept you pinned between his body and the table, he took this chance to pull off his sweatpants and slide yours off as well. "You can't see but—" He tapped his cock against the curve of your ass, observing how the color of his tip contrasted nicely with your skin, "—it's perfect." His large hand went to grab the flesh of your cheek, spreading it apart so he could see your cute hole all eager for him. Seemed like your body wasn't as pure as you were. He wasn't going to bother fishing for lube so he leaned back and spat a glob over your entrance, using his tip to shallowly smear it across your hole.
He pushed in slowly, groaning as he felt warmth surround his dick. He loved the way you felt. Loved the way your walls would give his cock a warm welcome and a tight hug. His hands — that were placed on your hips — moved to underneath your shirt, feeling your soft, supple skin under his calloused fingers. His fingers kept groping at your skin, tugging at the places were you had a little more plush than others before moving to cup your chest, ghosting over your now hard nipples. You couldn't help but whimper at that, the way his fingers so gently tickled your chest like that had you squirming and Toji for sure noticed it.
"You're cute, you know that?" He breathed in softly, taking in the scent of your shampoo as he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his hands still touching and caressing your torso. "Makes me wanna bite you," Toji growled against your shoulder, grazing his teeth along your skin but never actually sinking them into you, "But you're too pretty for that, seeing as the way you wanna doll yourself up all the time, bet you'd be mad if I leave an ugly mark hm?" His tone was so degrading it almost offended you but that feeling of offense was soon ignored once Toji pulled out and slammed back into you.
His dick rubbed against your prostate everytime he thrusted; at this point it was bullying with the way his cock aimed for your weak spots over and over again. The table creaked underneath your combined weight and the nail polishes on the desk rattled, threatening to fall over. Small strings of moans and mewls let your mouth as Toji kept pounding into you with his hands toying with your sensitive nipples. The stimulation was too much, you felt yourself try and wriggle out of his grasp, attempting to regain a little bit of your composure, but Toji just kept you pressed against the table and his fingers pinched at your buds.
"You can take it, I know you can. I've done worse to you," Toji hummed in your ear, you could practically feel the bass of his voice tickle your brain. He really was your weakness. He was being arguably nice to you right now. Toji really did have a thing for overstimulation and he loved seeing your brain go numb from all the pleasure he gives you.
You find yourself leaking, dripping pre onto your pants that pooled at your knees — luckily it didn't get on the carpet, that would be a pain to clean — and your eyes were rolling back, something you did when you were about to cum. You could tell Toji was too, his groans got louder and his cock pulsed inside you, waiting to spill. "Just a little more yeah?" He cooed, trailing his hands up to your collarbones and then to your neck, squeezing your adam's apple gently. Having your neck cradled like this made you feel somewhat vulnerable, especially considering how strong Toji was, but that was what made it all the more pleasurable, knowing that you were safe with Toji.
His cock grinded against your prostate once more and it sent you off the edge, a high whine left your throat as your toes curled and white spurted all over your pants. "Attaboy," He grumbled into your ear before thrusting into you one more time, groaning as he held your waist close to his body, making sure you took all of it.
Toji fully relaxed ontop of you, making you groan in protest from his crushing weight. "Y'know I heard that the best lipstick color is the colour of your nipple, maybe you should do that with your nails." He lifted you off the table, allowing you to look down at yourself but you slapped his hand away before he did anything stupid.
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a/n : short little toji fic i wanted to write + some tests with layout, i also wrote this all in one day so its probably not that good TT
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obsessedwrhys · 5 months
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Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader
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t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!
ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3
Origin:
Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.
Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.
BUTCHER
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To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.
How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.
Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)
"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"
":("
Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.
He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.
"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.
Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.
"Did you miss me?"
"Oh christ..."
When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?
Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.
For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.
"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"
"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.
The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.
Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.
"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"
"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"
"He's dead"
"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"
But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.
Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.
Compatibility? 75%
HUGHIE
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You treat him like a child.
No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him
"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"
"Stop..."
"Does baby want his milky?"
Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.
"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.
"I don't think he speaks English"
"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"
"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"
"Eh, you're right"
BANG
"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"
"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"
You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.
"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.
"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"
"God you're so ungrateful!!"
Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.
"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.
You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.
"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."
However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.
But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?
Compatibility? 55%
FRENCHIE
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He's like your hype man which is concerning.
Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.
"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.
"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.
After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.
"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.
On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.
Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.
"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"
"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"
Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.
"What are you mad at me for?!?!"
"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"
"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"
"WHAT?"
There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.
Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?
Compatibility? 99.9%
M.M
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Everybody deserves second chances.
He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.
"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"
"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."
M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.
"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."
"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"
Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.
"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.
You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.
Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.
You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.
I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.
That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.
"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.
"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"
"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"
Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.
She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.
Compatibility? 80%
KIMIKO
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She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.
Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.
She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.
"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."
"😐"
"It's beautiful..."
Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.
Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.
"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.
"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.
"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."
"(Can you please take this seriously?)"
"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.
"😡"
"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"
For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.
For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.
"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"
Compatibility? 97%
Bonus +
SOLDIER BOY
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You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.
Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.
In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.
"I'll take red with me"
"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.
"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.
Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.
"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"
"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"
Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.
"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.
"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"
"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"
"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"
At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.
"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"
"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"
Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.
Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔
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tojisbbygworl · 6 months
Text
The Apartment Across The Street - Sukuna x Reader
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In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of the window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it.
Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.
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Words: 6.7k
Tags - 18+ MDNI, No Use of Y/N, No Curses, Set in late 90s/early 00s, Smut, Angst, High Sex, Missionary, Degredation, Marijuana, Slight x Toji (I can't help myself)
WARNINGS - Dead Dove, Dark, Non-Con/Dub-con, Breaking and Entering, Sukuna and Toji are criminals, Sukuna's a hitman, Choking, Violence
AO3 Version
Masterlist
author's note: Heyyyy! Okay I went a little too hard like I always do so this is a bit long and (imo) it get's a little intense so be warned. I hope you enjoy hopefully I have some motivation to keep writing. art cred: @innaillus
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That apartment used to be empty.
Sukuna hadn’t been home in a week. He doesn’t mind. He’s learned to not have too many hopes or expectations in this line of work. Besides, he prefers being his own boss. He accepts contracts when he needs money then he’s off until it runs out. Doesn’t matter if they take days or even weeks.
Shorter jobs like this one weren’t his treat. They don’t pay as much as he likes, but it works out. These apartments were a bit shitty, they didn’t cost too much. And, he was right in the middle of the city. Easy to meet clients. The clubs went on all night long. Which is exactly how late he was out when he was home. Actually, he was planning to go out tonight. Meet up with Toji and see if he can’t get a woman in his bed by 2 am.
He wondered how long it would take to see his newest neighbor. The way the apartments in the complex are built, you could easily see into your neighbor’s bedroom. 'State guidelines say blinds aren’t required. You buy them,' was the response he received when he brought the problem up to the landlord. A lot of people invested in curtains, maybe they hadn’t bought any yet. He saw a bed, but it seems to be the only thing they’ve managed to set up. There were a couple boxes with flaps wide open sitting beside it.
After a few more moments of rumination, he closed his curtain and laid down on his bed waiting for a text to come over. In truth, he couldn't wait to see who was unlucky enough to be his new window neighbor. The last one didn’t go too well. They also didn’t invest in curtains and he isn’t entirely sure if he’s the reason they moved out, but he’s sure they didn’t appreciate catching his stare multiple times a day. And that one time at midnight.
-
All it took was the next morning.
Sukuna’s eyes crept open and he stared towards the ceiling. The girl he brought home last night was dead asleep and naked on his chest. He yawned and wiped his face tiredly. He nudged the girl off of him a bit, then sat up on the side of his bed. Ugh, he felt like shit. Toji always went entirely too hard when they went out, but Sukuna doesn’t mind. He has nowhere to be. Nothing to do. 
He got up and stretched then walked to the bathroom. As he completed his morning routine, he pondered about what today would behold for him. This is another reason he hated short jobs. Sukuna loves free time, but only if there’s something to do with it. There never really is.
He could kill that girl in his bedroom. In fact, he could have killed any girl he brought home since he moved in half a year ago. But the last time he made his job his hobby, it didn’t go so well for him. It was too close of a call, and getting arrested for murder just isn’t worth it. He could spend a couple months in the pen, not years at a time.
He spat out his toothpaste. Life was so fucking mundane. He had no life goals, barely any friends, his little brother hates him, and he works alone. All things he doesn’t actually care about, but shit, when is he going to get some excitement? Nothing gets him going anymore.
He needs something that will make him feel. A drug of some sort? But that doesn’t seem right to him. Even now as he walks back in the room staring at the woman in his bed, he feels nothing. If she woke back up and decided she wanted to have sex with him, he would say yes, but only because it’s something to do. He’s not feeling any particular way about her.
The moment he sat back down on the bed, she started shifting around. A few seconds later, she lifts her head and yawns. “Good morning.” She giggles, she leans over and kisses his cheek. Sukuna grunts.
The girl looks around the dark room. “It is morning, right?” She doesn’t let him answer before she stands up and opens the curtains. “Oh wow,” she exclaims. “I can see directly into your neighbor’s room.” She says. He still doesn’t get up, just hums at her.
“She’s cute though.”
Sukuna perks up upon hearing that. “Oh yeah? I haven’t seen her yet. She’s new.”
This was the first time since they’ve met that she said something interesting, but unfortunately for him, she drops the subject immediately and walks back into bed, leaving the curtains open. Sukuna holds back his sigh. Does he really want to spend the rest of his morning with this girl? It was half past 8. Way too early.
“I'm going to start getting ready for work,” he says without skipping a beat. She stops in her tracks and blinks at him, clearly not expecting that. It’s silent for a few moments. Sukuna’s not sure what she’s waiting on, but if it’s for him to say he’s kidding or let her stay, she’s sorely mistaken.
“Oh, I thought you were contracted,” she says nervously.
‘I only work when I feel like it, gorgeous.’ Sukuna inwardly curses himself for his suave nature. “Yeah. I got a contract. In an hour.”
His curtness and annoyed expression did good to make her feel completely and totally unwanted. The girl awkwardly smiled at him. “Oh, ha ha. Yeah…okay.” Sukuna got up and walked out of the room. Give her a little space to feel like shit while she gets ready to leave. He makes himself a cup of coffee, his face still that same blank expression even after he hears her rushing out the door from behind him. When she’s gone he takes himself back into his room.
He walks up to his window to close the curtains once more until someone catches his eye. He freezes and his eyebrows shoot upwards. That girl was right. She was cute. And he had the perfect view of her. She seemed to be posing or checking herself out. Sukuna wasn’t sure which one it was, but he hoped she didn’t stop. That bikini she had on was doing wonders for her, and him.
Something was off. Looking at her made him…tense. His hands were gripping the curtains, he was biting the inside of his cheek, his leg was shaking; Was it anxiety? No, she’s not making him nervous. What he’s feeling is euphoric. He likes it. He wants to grip her bare waist and squeeze her until she bruises.
In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of her window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it. Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.
-
It doesn’t take long after that to finally meet her.
Before taking his most recent job, Sukuna had nearly consumed everything in his fridge. What was left was now finished and he spent a lot of his morning sulking at a half empty milk carton, his breakfast for the day. He hated eating out, it messed with his figure.
The local grocery wasn't too bad of a walk from his place, although he hated carrying everything back. He always bought a few necessities and a few ingredients to quickly whip something up for his dinner. Today, he’d have to bulk up if he doesn’t want to keep coming back.
As much as he hated the public, shopping never seemed to be a problem for him. He was tall and intimidating, he never smiled, he was always tense; people tended to avoid him like the plague. He appreciated it. But, as he enters the frozen meal aisle with his cart half full he wishes that just for a moment, he looked approachable. Then, this would be much easier.
There she was, in sweatpants and a cropped tube top, looking at the frozen pizzas. She looked like she had been home all day. She was much cuter now that he could see her better. A lot cuter. She’s pretty as hell.
Thank goodness, too. He already knew what her body looked like, what with her constantly taking pictures of herself in front of the window. She liked to play dress up, she would try on entirely different outfits before she was satisfied. Pretty soon, the colors of her bras and panties would be ingrained into his memory.
He stood there looking her up and down for a few more seconds before he started browsing once more. Although he really was looking for food he wanted, he used this opportunity to slowly get closer to her. He pretended to be interested in some frozen broccoli and he snuck a look at her. To his surprise, and enjoyment, she had done the same. When they made eye contact, she jerked and looked away. A couple moments after that, she grabbed her food and walked away into another aisle.
Sukuna chuckled to himself. She wouldn’t get away that easily. He dropped the broccoli in his cart and followed after her. He hadn’t seen which aisle she’d gone into, so he kept walking down and looking into each one until he found her trying to get some chips from a high shelf. He smiled upon seeing her struggle. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.
He managed to walk right up behind her and reach for the chips she was trying to get before she got startled. She gasped a bit and looked up at him. He looked down at her. Fuck, she was pretty. His heart started to pound, he could practically salivate at the idea of taking her home.
He hands her the chips before she can say anything, then walks away. Before he’s out of her sight he hears her say, “Thank you so much.”
Her cadence, the velvety softness of her voice; it made him want to drop to his knees. How sweet would she sound if he bit into her neck? How soft is her yelp when she stubs her toe? How shrill is her scream when she’s in pain?
Her appreciation made him stop in his tracks. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. She seemed nervous and her eyes were uncertain. Sukuna began to feel restless. So many ideas of what he could do to her if he got her alone were rushing through his mind and she was none the wiser. This aisle has been empty and no one has come by. He could take her right now.
Instead, he looks her up and down. “Yeah, sure.” And then he walks away with his shopping. He leaves wondering when next they’ll meet, she does the same as she watches his back.
-
“Still haven’t called the maintenance guy, huh? Lazy jackass.”
Sukuna turns his head to the side and glares at his unwanted guest. Toji may have been his best friend, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to break his fat neck and bury him in the park. Besides, that title meant jack shit. They met in jail and Toji helped him get on his feet when Sukuna’s sentence was up. Toji never really left him alone and Sukuna stayed because his family was rich. If anything, they were close acquaintances who had sex sometimes.
Speaking of Toji’s money, the asshole grew up in an affluent family which means his standards were a bit too high for the humble abode that Sukuna prefers. It was probably the most annoying part about him. He was complaining about the door to the bathroom. It didn’t close correctly so you had to force it shut. Something that just isn’t enough of a problem to be bothered to try and fix.
“Stop coming over if it annoys you so much,” Sukuna responds, taking another drag from their second blunt for the morning. He was finally starting to feel something from it and he didn’t want to hear Toji whining about bullshit.
“Nah, I think I’ll keep coming. Especially with your fine ass neighbor.” Toji walked away again, not seeing Sukuna’s head jerk towards him. What was he talking about? Sukuna didn’t tell him about her. Did he see her?
“Why the fuck are you in my room?” He gets up to follow behind him. Sukuna looks down the hallway and sees both his room and the bathroom doors wide open. The bathroom was empty. “Get out.”
He starts walking towards his room door but jumps back when Toji rushes out of it. “Come look at this,” he says, grabbing his arm.
Toji had this crazed grin on his face and he was tugging him along impatiently. “What the hell are you-” Sukuna’s words die in his throat as he gazes upon what had Toji so excited. It was his beautiful neighbor changing in front of her mirror again except, there was a big problem. She had never been completely naked before.
Holy shit, her body could stop a truck. Sukuna let his jaw drop. His eyes raked her from her breasts to her legs. She would turn around occasionally, walk back and forth in front of the window, oh he loved the way her tits bounced. He wanted her on top of him, his dick sliding in and out of her while he latched onto her nipple.
“She’s sexy as fuck, huh?” Sukuna’s unceremoniously snapped out of his trance by Toji’s comment. He turns his head towards him looking at his smile and twinkling eyes. “She do this all the time? Does she even know?” Toji gasps and looks him in the eye. “Does she do it on purpose?”
I’m that moment, a switch had flipped inside of Sukuna. Toji was watching her before he brought him in here. He saw her naked first. He shouldn’t have seen her at all. The warm swarm of butterflies in his abdomen had fluttered away, a feeling of rage building in his heart instead. She was Sukuna’s to look at, not Toji’s.
To answer his question, Sukuna shrugs. Then, they both turn towards her again only to make eye contact with her. They see her gasp, cover herself and shriek before running from the window. “Fuck,” they say in unison before shutting the curtain.
“I blame you for that,” Toji says despite both of them being at fault. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks out of the room. “Where’s the blunt?”
Toji may have forgotten about that little encounter, but Sukuna doesn’t think he can forget anytime soon. He hates that Toji got to see her like that. They still haven’t spoken more than once to each other, and now she knows he’s a pervert that stares at her through their windows. Sukuna scowls at the ground then slams his hand into the wall. She’ll leave soon just like the last one did, but this time, he doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility.
He gives himself time to calm down before joining Toji again. He can’t bring work home again.
-
It was over.
He saw her once after that incident. Waiting for Toji to pick him up for the night, he stood outside the local gas station smoking a cigarette. She’d been on his mind since. She invested in curtains, unfortunately. She was really uncomfortable. He’s not even sure if she’s left the apartment.
Thinking about what happened made him furious. If Toji hadn’t gone into his room he would have never seen her. Oh he just can’t shut the hell up about the shape of her ass and how he would let her suffocate him with her gorgeous thighs. Sukuna sighed, her thighs were gorgeous weren’t they?
She was a missed opportunity. There are so many ways he could have started something with her. It’s not like she didn’t like him, had they met again before that, he’s sure he could have gotten her number. Usually, missing out on a woman wasn’t that bothersome, but she was different for him. He looked forward to beating his dick under the windowsill while she tried on clothes. His imagination wasn’t bad, but by the time he came in his hands, his dick was red and sore and his arm was tired.
His memory is not enough. He wants her.
He looks at the time on his watch. A quarter ‘til midnight. He rolls his eyes. Toji’s always late. A quick snack is in order.
Sukuna mindlessly stares at the powdered donuts wondering if he really feels like fucking up his clothes and having dirty fingers. He hates club bathrooms, the one here is just as bad, and he doesn’t want to lick his fingers. Maybe he won’t. But right before he decides to leave, the door opens. He turns his head upon hearing the small ring of a bell, but doesn’t pay attention to the culprit until they’re in the same aisle. “Oh shit,” he said before he could stop himself.
He tries to look away before she notices, but it’s too late. He looks back at her and grimaces. The girl is shaken to her core. Poor thing is afraid. And while Sukuna feels a bit bad about making such a cutie so frightened, it kind of…warms his heart. She takes in a deep breath and twists back around. She doesn’t even buy anything. She just leaves.
He almost chases her. He stands in the aisle still reveling in her presence. He breathes deeply thinking about how nice it felt to have such power over someone. Hm.
Sukuna leaves the store only a few moments after her. Toji’s BMW was running next to a pump as he got out of the car. “Oh shit, there you are.” He grins. “Guess who I just saw.”
“I know. She was running from me.” Sukuna says, getting into the passenger seat.
Toji cackles while driving away. “Damn, so she’s scared of us, huh?” Sukuna shrugs. “She looked like it. Girl was huffing it. Actually…she ran down the street towards where we’re going.”
Sukuna raises a brow at him. Toji doesn’t say anything and just keeps smiling. “So?”
He turns on his beamers and slows down as he drives between the apartment buildings. Sukuna’s eyes widen as he realizes just what Toji’s trying to do. And soon his lips follow. Just up ahead was a figure with a hoodie walking very quickly. They turn around and immediately shield their eyes from the bright lights. It was her.
She seemed confused at first, and the bright light contrasted with the darkness of the night blinded her from seeing who was in the car. However, she didn’t stop walking or slow down. She decided to mind her business instead. It could be anyone. Anyone. Even though it was the same car waiting at the gas station.
Despite her telling herself that she’s okay, she couldn’t help but notice how they were matching her speed. And that once they had gotten right behind her, the window was rolled down. And that she still had a block left to go.
“Ay,” Sukuna shouted from behind her, effectively terrifying her. She turned to see his smile and upon further investigation, she saw Toji’s from the driver’s seat. Oh no. “You can’t say hi? You scared of me?” He taunts.
She ran.
-
And that was the worst thing she could have done.
There have been a few recent instances that made her question her move to this city. She was hoping to start a new life, away from her family, away from her ex, make some new friends; she didn’t think she would be planning to move out after a couple months.
That man…she didn’t know what the hell his problem was. Why did he and his friend follow her out of the gas station? Was he crazy? Did she do something to him? Since they followed her, she’s been racking her mind trying to figure out what the hell she did to deserve this. Before that, she had only ever spoken to him once at the grocery store. He was extremely intimidating, but she was intrigued by him. She didn’t mean to stare, but he was very attractive. Clearly he had seen it as some sort of invitation. Maybe he followed her into that aisle and it wasn’t just an act of kindness.
Coming home after work had become so much more nerve wracking. In fact, coming out of her unit brings her horrible anxiety. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder. Tries to pretend the building across doesn’t even exist. She doesn’t understand what took her so long to get curtains; it just wasn’t a priority for her. Either way, she didn’t deserve to be punished for her forgetfulness.
She’s in a weird position where the longer she goes without seeing him, the more worried she becomes even though she never wants to see him or his friend again. Currently, she was in the elevator heading up to her apartment. She was catching her breath and trying to relax now that she was safe. She does this everyday now.
She couldn’t wait to be home. The entire day she’s been feeling like complete crap. Her heart refused to leave her stomach. She dropped so many cups behind the bar that she spent more time sweeping and wiping up drinks than making them. And she was on the verge of tears the entire time. It was nice to be home, but she wondered how bad it would be tomorrow.
In fact, it was so bad today that although she was physically relaxed, her brain just wouldn’t be quiet. It kept telling her to stay alert, that there was still something waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore it and enjoy her night. She was going to kick off her shoes, rip off all her clothes, warm up her leftovers and hit her bong. She was off tomorrow and she is not planning on leaving her room at all.
She messed with her keys when she approached her door. All the apartments had two locks, a deadlock and a lock on the handle, but she was looking for another that she could attach herself. The home goods store near her didn’t have any promising ones, so she had to wait on a shipment.
She reached for the handle to unlock it. Her hand twisted the lever and she retracted it immediately. Her heart starts racing once more, but then she realizes the door was still closed. When she can’t get the door open, she sighs in relief. The deadlock was still intact and locked. The apartments are just shitty.
As relieved as she was in that moment, this just meant she had another problem to deal with. She couldn’t go with one of her locks not working, especially not the handle. In fact, maybe she’ll deal with it tonight. She does have tools and she can be pretty handy when she needs to be.
Like she wanted to, she kicks off her shoes and rips off her jacket. She almost takes off her clothes before she notices a certain smell in the air. Her apartment smelled of weed, but it smelled like someone was actively smoking right at that moment. Maybe it was her next door neighbor.
She walks through her silent home. Maybe she should get a cat. There are quite a few friendly strays around. She could afford-
What was that noise?
A bump. In her bedroom.
What could it have been? Had her worst fears come true?
No. It’s not possible…so why had that sinking feeling returned in full force? There was nothing in her room. There was no one in her room…
-
Toji had broken the lock for him. 'Just record it for me,' was his end of the bargain.
The place was just as cute as he thought it was. She still had a lot of things unpacked, and she hadn’t gotten a couch for the living room. Hm. He wonders if she really is planning on leaving. That would not be good.
He would want her to stay, but if she can get away from him, at least he’ll get a taste of her.
She leaves her weed out. Hm…he would enjoy this better if he were high. And he’ll make her smoke too. 
When he heard her coming closer to her room, he put the bong down and stood up. Her room was small and it was pitch black, the only light coming from the embers in the bowl. He hit her closet door and she heard it. Fuck. He hopes she doesn’t get a weapon out.
And she didn’t. This girl is…something else.
He hides right behind the door in between the wall and the hinges. Then, he waited quietly and patiently until she slowly opened the door and turned on the light. And before she could try to look around, he slammed the door shut behind her.
-
It all happened in a second.
She heard the door slam and time froze. She told herself then and there, that she was going to die tonight. She knew who her killer would be before she turned around. Did she even want to?
She didn’t have a choice, her body reacted before she could think. All she saw was a small scowl, he had brown eyes, but they looked tainted with blood. His hands, his large hands, shot towards her head and before she could scream he trapped her mouth shut. His other hand gripped the back of her head.
She fought him as violently as she could. She scratched his face, pulled his hair, tried to poke him in the eyes; but he was quick to show her that he was much stronger than her. He pulls his hand off of her mouth and smacks her across the face. She can only scream for a second before his hand is back on her mouth and he pushes her into the bed.
Sukuna takes his hand off of the back of her head and squeezes her neck. He still holds her mouth shut. She gets weaker and weaker as the oxygen leaves her brain. He leans down towards her face to speak to her. “You want to live?”
Tears had long been streaming down her face, but this is the point where she finally breaks down wailing. She lets her arms fall and Sukuna loosens his grip on her neck. But only slightly. She takes a deep breath and cries into his hand. “Answer me,” he says. “Come on, pretty girl.”
She cries a bit more before nodding her head in defeat. “I know. You’re gonna do what I say?”
She nods again. “You’re not gonna scream when I take my hand off?” She sniffles and sobs again. “Because you want to fucking live, right? Right?” He tightens his grip on her neck again. She kicks her feet and nods as best as she can. “Go turn off your light and turn on your lamp. You’re gonna smoke with me.”
He gets off her and watches her to make sure she does what he asks. It takes her a minute, she lays there quietly sobbing and wiping her tears while Sukuna takes another hit of her bong, but eventually she gets up to turn on her lamp, then flip her light switch. “Lock the door too. I like the feeling of extra privacy when I’m taking a woman to bed.”
-
He disgusts her.
He forces her to take several long hits that had her in horrible coughing fits. And of course, it wasn’t long before she was completely inebriated. She couldn’t really move too much, or think too much. But even though she was out of commission, she could hear every word Sukuna said to her.
He talked her ear off about how he’d been looking at her for a week before they met at the grocery store. All the way up until she realized just how exposed she was from catching him and his friend staring. It was her fault, is what he said. He said she was stupid to not think anyone could see her. She should have gotten blinds or curtains when she moved in. A fucking dumbass bitch.
That’s how she felt.
He taunted her as he watched her take her clothes off. His dick was already in his hand, he had been hard for a while. Imagining his dick finally pounding into her as he squeezes the life out of her.
‘I think you wanted someone to watch you,’ he said to her. She hung onto every word he said, answered every question he had. ‘You’re an attention seeking slut, aren’t you? Nod your head.’ And she did. ‘What’s your name?’ And she told him. ‘Take that shit off faster and come hit this again.’
She was completely out of it, but instead of floating, she sank. She sunk deeper into the bedsheets, Sukuna weighing her down with every word. Every stroke of his hand on her thigh, every lick on her neck and collarbone, every bite on her chest. When he reached down between her legs and stroked her clit, she moaned, then cried in shame.
“Shhhh,” he whispered in her ear from behind her. “You’re gonna love me. And if you’re good I won’t hurt you.” He kisses her ear, then nibbles on it. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. She cries and shakes, twisting her head away from him as best as she could. Sukuna’s hands explore her body eagerly. He can’t decide whether he wants to grip her hips or play with her nipples. She was so soft, just as he imagined.
He flips her onto her back. “Look at me, baby.” She opens her eyes only slightly, her tears blurring her vision completely before falling. He takes his hand to cup her cheek and wipe them with his thumb. As she gazed upon his naked body on top of hers, she accepts her fate: this man was going to rape then kill her.
He looked deranged. His brows were knit together with a lopsided grin. Her body is racked with sobs once more. “It’s okay,” he tells her. “Shhhh.” He slowly brings his thumb wet with salty tears to her mouth. She tries to pull her head away, but he quickly attaches his hands back to her mouth and head then he leans down towards her. “I thought you said you wanted to live.”
She’s actually not sure at this point. Does she want to live with this trauma? Does she want to continue being this man’s neighbor for him to torture however he sees fit? Does she want to have to look at his building every single day living in fear that he’ll do it again? Living in fear of his friend getting any bright ideas?
“Just relax.” He lets go of her head and goes for her neck. She moans as he bites and sucks on it, making sure to leave a mark reminding her of what he did. It won’t be the only one.
Sukuna slowly takes his hands and lifts both of her legs in the air. He licks his fingers while looking at her, then bites his lip as he plays with her clit once more. She breathes harder and harder with every rub. They don’t break eye contact, it does something to him. He’s reveling in her fear. Her eyes were shot, her mascara and eyeliner running down her face. It made her look even more beautiful. She was making him feral.
Sukuna’s dick was an angry scarlet and dripped precum all over her leg where it rested. He was big and it scared her even more. As his eyes explored her body, he got hungrier and hungrier. He slides a finger inside of her and starts pumping. Her pussy was slick with her arousal.
“Fuck,” he whispered putting in another finger. He pumped his fingers hard enough to make her wetness splash. She threw her head back and arched her chest into the air. She sounded just as sweet as he thought she would. She was turning out to be everything he wanted and more. He wasn’t waiting any longer.
He yanked his fingers out of her and searched her bedside table for his camcorder. She whined when he removed himself from her and watched him. Sukuna pressed record.
“Say hi to Toji,” he told her, sticking the lens in her face. She closes her eyes and tries to avoid the camera. He grips her chin with his fingers and forces her head forward. “Ain’t she pretty?” Sukuna pulls away from her face to record her body. He takes her tit in his hand to play with. He jiggles and pulls on her nipple before smacking it. When she squealed he did it again.
“He’s gonna love watching me fuck the shit out of you.” Sukuna sat and balanced the recorder on her nightstand perfectly angled to show their torsos and hips. He gets back on the bed to grab her waist and pull her towards his. He groaned when he felt his dick rub against her pussy. “You know who I’m talking about, right? My friend? You know he saw you before I did.”
He pauses to spit into his hand and starts jerking his throbbing shaft. “I wanted to kill that fucker.” Sukuna leans over once more and kisses her several times before capturing her lips in one long and forceful kiss. He rubs his dick against her entrance as he does this, with a desperate moan from both of them to accompany it. Sukuna rests his forehead against hers. “Tell me you’re mine.” His eyes are fiery, and she doesn’t wish to find out what will happen if she fails to do what he asks.
His tip begins to poke through her entrance. She whimpers and he brings his head down and bites her lip. “Come on…”
“I’m yours-” He finally starts tucking his dick into her. The feeling of being inside her was heaven on Earth. He wasn’t ashamed of how loudly he moaned. She was louder anyway. They always are. Even when they don’t want it.
“My name is Sukuna.” She takes all of him like a fucking champ. And looks good as fuck while doing it. And her voice…
“I’m yours, Sukuna.”
A tear ran down her cheek. The dragging of his dick against her walls was nothing like she’s ever felt before. It felt so good, but she was the unhappiest she’d ever been. She’s terrified and unsure if she’ll live to see tomorrow. He says he won’t kill her if she’s good, but what does good even mean to him?
She knows there’s nothing she really could have done to avoid what was currently happening to her. This man- no, Sukuna, saw her when she was first moved in and decided then and there that he wanted to rape her. No matter what he claims about her being rude and ignoring him when he helped her. And yet, she blames herself.
If she had just gotten curtains or blinds early enough, then maybe she could have avoided him. Or maybe she wouldn’t have existed to him at all. At least he wouldn’t have known what floor she was on or her room. Maybe he wouldn’t have known what building she was in.
She was so fucking stupid.
-
He repeated that all night.
‘Stupid fucking bitch,’ he would mutter under his breath. ‘Changing in front of a window, thinking no one’s gonna see you? Posing in mirrors and shit?’ He fucked her at a smooth and steady rythym, she was soaking wet and splashing all over his stubble. The sheets were damp underneath. ‘Oh yeah. You like it when I talk to you like that?’ She couldn’t stop herself from crying in humiliation.
He asked her to cry louder for ‘Toji’, which she did, and he proceeded to smack her across the face for being too loud.
He felt amazing, he pushed her legs into her chest and hammered into her. She cried into his mouth as she came all over him. Her pussy squeezing his member drive him insane and before he knew it he was cumming inside her. ‘Fuck…’ He pulled out and jerked the rest of his cum onto her pussy and thighs. He quickly grabbed the camera to show Toji, with the flash on.
‘Look at that shit,’ Sukuna made sure to examine her at every angle. He pushed his finger into her and chuckled when she moaned. His index was covered with his cum and he brought it and the camera up to her body and face.
She was completely tired out. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she could barely even lift her eyelids. Sukuna kissed at her like a dog, then maneuvered the camera to her face. Her face was soaked with tears and spit. Her makeup had smudged everywhere and ran down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, and she ached everywhere.
Her mouth hung open and Sukuna proceeded to jam his finger into it. He used it to pull her head back over to him and made out with her. Then, his dick started poking her ass.
She had no idea what time last night they were finally done, talk less of when she actually fell asleep. He smoked a blunt after the whole thing, sat her up so he could make her smoke too. He found her liquor cabinet. The night got worse.
She puked her guts out then fell asleep on the floor, but now she was in her bed trapped underneath him. They were both naked. She was sore as the day was long. He snores next to her. Holy fucking hell. She’s alive. Why is she alive?
She starts breathing heavily and looking around her room. She doesn’t know what to do. She didn’t think she would still be here.
In a flash, he’s up. His hand is over her mouth, and his eyes are staring into hers. He has a poker face. She shakes in his clutches and her eyes fill with tears already. “Relax. Listen to me. I know what you’re planning.”
What? What is he- “I dare you to fucking try and move away from me. I will follow you and ruin your life.”
“You said you were mine last night? Then you’re mine. You’ll do what I say, and I’ll do as I please with you. Do you understand?”
All she could do was nod. What could she say? She was planning on moving despite not having the money for it. She would have to save up. And now that he’s shown her what he’s capable of, why would she take the risk? 
Why is this happening to her? What did she do to deserve this? Want a better life for herself?
-
Sukuna was pleased with how the morning was going.
She was sitting on a stool in her dining room watching him make them breakfast with an ice pack on her face and a blanket over her body. She didn’t know what to think.
Suddenly, he perks up and turns towards her. “You got a phone, pretty?” 
She could throw up again. She swallows and points towards the hall . “My room,” her voice was hoarse and weak. “On the other side of the bed.”
He pauses and blinks at her. She gets scared again wondering what she did wrong this time. He turns the heat off. “You’re coming with me.”
Toji answers in a flash. “So, how was it?”
“You’re gonna like what you see.” He turns towards where she’s sitting on the bed. “Isn’t that right?” She’s not amused.
“Are you…are you with the bitch right now?” Toji asks.
“Yeah,” Sukuna makes his voice dreamy. “We’re going steady.”
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ending a/n: Please lmk what you think ! Thank you for reading !
Masterlist
W E L C O M E P A G E
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porcalinecunt · 6 months
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𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ‘𝐄𝐌 𝐔𝐏!
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🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ wondered what boothill has that lasso for . . ♡
·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
cw — ftm!reader. mean dom!boothill. crossdressing. bondage. fingering. (reluctant) praising. dumbification. squirting.
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : boothill brainrot has me going hogwild for him hmmphmmammm. my last post abt him has been popping off lately, i hear your cries boothill nation and i'm here to serve! enjoy ~♡
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“quit whinin’ boy, will ya?” 
he rasped, swallowing another bullet. the taste of lead spread in his mouth, crunching noises from the ground up ammo made you flinch a bit. 
your wispy gown was bunched up to your thighs, held in place with the rope he uses as a lasso outside of the bedroom. every curve was shown in it’s full glory, soft flesh suffocated from the harsh material. you sat on your knees with your wrists tied tightly behind your back, rendering you helpless as you couldn’t even close your legs. you could only watch helplessly as the ranger pumped his metal fingers in and out of your soaked cunny. his cold palm pressed up against your clit, overwhelming you with an electrifying friction no other man could give you. 
“mm..b-boothi–” 
smack!
you flinched as your thighs instinctively tried to press themselves shut, much to the amusement of your robotic boyfriend. a shit eating grin spread across his lips, flashing his shark-like teeth. 
“what did i say baby..? too cute to understand now?” 
the bullet between his teeth moved up and down, his speech slightly glitched at the very term ‘cute’. if only he could spit out what he really ment, but then again, his sarcastic tone dripping with faux sympathy spoke volumes. boothill was a sweetheart at his metal core, but if you asked so nicely, he might flick his own switch just to see you fall apart at his touch. you were too adorable to turn down. 
you shook your head, syrupy eyes stared back into his bloodshot ones. a silent beg for release, added on by your impatient grinding. two teasing fingers were no longer enough for you, no, you needed him to do his absolute worst. fucking you while bound like the good little minx you were for the hunk of steel. to hear his annoyed tone forced to say sweet nothing while his body said otherwise. maybe, he might get the gun involved. none of it mattered. 
through mindless babbles and high pitched whines, you pleaded for more. the ranger’s eyes flicked up towards your fucked out face as he swallowed the last bullet. you were pulled forwards by the rope, forced to face boothill’s mean grin. 
“use your words doll.” 
you tried, you really did, but whatever you wanted couldn’t come out right. almost like you short circuited, spitting out all of your desires. from him fingerblasting you ‘till you soaked his whole forearm to being stuffed to the brim by his synthetic cock, his ridiculous girth stretching your cunny till you cry. as you begged, his fingers quicked until the noises were too loud to even hear him praise you in your ear. you cracked your eyes open and almost orgasmed at what was being done to you. three fingers pumping themselves in and out of you, with boothill using the strength from his forearm to dig himself deeper until he touched your cervix. your thighs shook violently, shifting the rope to reveal the marks it’s already left on your soft flesh. you were close, and he could tell so easily. the way you clenched around his fingers to how quickly your moans subsided into lewd silence was made so stupidly obvious. 
“nasty one aren’t ya? y’gonna cum already?” 
he chuckled, nipping your earlobe as the final knots in your stomach finally snapped. tugging onto his leather vest, you came and came hard. your vision blurred and your legs went numb while you sobbed out in both shock and pleasure. boothill drank up the view in front of him, his pretty baby fucked out and dumber then a lost trotter. your once flawless sundress now ruined at the bottom with the top slipping off of your shoulders. of course, the rope that’s definitely gonna leave some lasting marks, which is exactly what he wanted. 
after all, you’ll come running back with it in hand the moment they fade. ♡
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© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.
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itneverendshere · 1 month
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played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron
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request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made"
pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader
warnings: angst <3; VERY LONG
wrote this listening to roses <3
Rafe Cameron held grudges better than anyone and his ex was about to witness exactly that. 
Fucking Jessica Green liked to think of herself as the queen of their university, the epitome of beauty and popularity. Some real high school bullshit he only fed because he liked her. And then, she went and dumped him for none other than Tyler West, the star player of his rival basketball team. Technically, she cheated on him, sneaking around with that piece of shit behind his back. 
The humiliation was killing him. 
Rafe wasn't one to take such things lying down; he wanted revenge, and he wanted it badly. He wanted to ruin her life. It wasn’t just enough to ruin her reputation—he wanted to hit her where it hurt the most. And what would hurt more than being replaced? Not just by any girl, but by someone who was everything she wasn’t. It was a genius idea, really. To prove that some loser could easily take her place, with a little help of course.
And that’s when he noticed you.
Kelce pointed you out actually, when they were six beers in and too fucking drunk to think clearly. But it was still a good choice.
You were the complete opposite of his ex, blending into the crowds like it was your superpower. He watched you for an entire hour at the party. You didn’t utter a single word the entire time you were there, only nursing your drink and listening to the other girls on the cheerleading squad speak.
Hell, he didn’t even know you were a cheerleader until that night. 
Were you always there? How had he never noticed you before? It was hard to remember when all he focused on up until then was Jessica. 
You were practically invisible in comparison to her, always on the sidelines, blending into the background. 
You were perfect.
If he could take this overlooked, nerdy girl and turn her into the new queen of the university, it would be the ultimate blow to Jessica's ego. It would prove that she wasn’t as irreplaceable as she thought. 
“You really gonna do it?”
He didn’t take his eyes off you, “Oh yeah. ‘M doing it.”
“Nahh, there’s no way you’re pulling this off.”
Rafe leaned back in his chair, a cocky grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Kelce’s skepticism was exactly what he expected, and honestly, it made the challenge even sweeter.
 “You think so?” he said, his tone light but with an edge of determination. “Watch me.”
Kelce, always the instigator, leaned forward with a smirk. “Come on, Cameron. You really think you can turn that quiet little thing into the next Jessica? She’s cute, I guess, in that nerdy way, but she’s not queen material.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he kept his cool. “She’s got potential,” he said confidently. “Just needs someone to show her how to use it.”
Topper laughed, shaking his head. “You’re insane. This isn’t some movie where the shy girl takes off her glasses and suddenly she’s hot. Jessica had something that can’t be taught.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Rafe pointed out, “It’s all about confidence man. Jessica wasn’t born the way she is now. She learned how to act the part, and I can do the same with her.”
Like a school project, he thought to himself. That’s all you were. 
Kelce took a swig of his drink, clearly enjoying where the conversation was going. “Alright, I’ll bite. How much time are we talking here? Because she’s got a long way to go, my guy.”
Rafe tilted his head, considering. “Give me two months. By the end of it, she’ll be turning heads. Maybe even more.”
Topper snorted, setting his drink down with a thunk. “Two months? No way. I’ll bet you a grand you can’t pull it off.”
Kelce laughed, clapping his hands together. “Oh, this is gonna be good. I’m in. A grand says you can’t turn her into the hottest girl in school.”
Rafe’s eyes glinted with determination. “You’re on,” he said, without hesitation. “In a month or two, you’ll be handing me that fucking cash, and she’ll be the one everyone’s talking about. Looking all pretty in my arms.”
Kelce raised his glass. “To Rafe and his miracle project. This is gonna be fun to watch.”
Topper shook his head again, still grinning as he clinked his glass against Kelce’s. “Here’s to you wasting a month of your life on a lost cause.”
He clinked his glass with theirs, the bet sealed. 
“You better start saving up.”
This plan was flawless. 
It was so good that even in his drunken haze, he could see how perfectly it would play out. The first step was simple: get close to you. Make you feel special, noticed, like you were someone who mattered. Rafe knew how to charm people; it was practically second nature. And with Jessica, it had been easy—too easy. She’d fallen for his looks, his confidence, his golden boy appeal. 
The next day, he started showing up at places he knew you’d be. The library, the campus coffee shop, even lingering around after cheerleading practice. At first, he didn’t approach you, just observed. 
He had to figure out how to crack the code, how to make you see him without scaring you off. It took a week before he made his first move.
You were sitting alone in the library, surrounded by textbooks and notes. He casually strolled up, pretending to be looking for a book on the same shelf. “Hey,” he said, glancing down at you with a disarming smile. “You’re in my econ class, right? Mind if I sit here?”
You looked up, a little startled, but nodded, shifting your books to make room for him. You probably couldn’t believe that someone like Rafe Cameron was talking to you, let alone sitting with you. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? To make you feel special, to pull you out of your shell and into his orbit.
He knew he still had to tread carefully. The wrong move could send you running, and he couldn’t afford that.
You kept your eyes down, focused on your notes. He noticed the way your hand shook slightly when you turned the page. Rafe leaned in a little closer, just enough to make his presence known without crowding you.
“You always this buried in work?” he asked casually, pulling out a notebook and flipping it open.
You glanced up, surprised he was still there. “I guess. I have a lot to catch up on.”
He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I hear you. Econ’s been kicking my ass this semester. You doing okay in it?”
He could tell you were surprised. Probably didn't expect him to know you shared the same class. And he didn't, until last week.
You hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, it’s… fine. Just a lot of material.”
“Tell me about it,” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around these supply and demand curves for days. You think the professor’s trying to torture us?”
You smiled faintly, a small victory in his book. “Maybe. It’s kind of her thing.”
Rafe grinned, pleased that he got a reaction out of you. “You mind if I study with you? Might help to bounce some ideas off each other.”
You blinked, clearly taken aback by his request. “Um, sure. I mean, if you want.”
“Definitely,” he replied smoothly. “You seem like you actually know what’s going on, unlike me.”
He spent the next hour working alongside you, occasionally asking questions, but mostly just being there. He didn’t push, didn’t try too hard. He wanted you to get comfortable with him, to see him as someone you could rely on.
“I’m sorry about Jessica.”
The way you blurted the words out told him you hadn’t meant to say it. 
Rafe froze, his grip tightening on the pen in his hand. He could feel the familiar anger bubbling up, but he forced it down, keeping his expression calm. This was exactly what he didn’t want—Jessica’s name being brought up, especially by you.
But he couldn’t let you see that. 
He looked at you, feigning surprise with a bit of sadness, as if Jessica was just a painful memory he was trying to move past. “Oh,” he said softly, his voice controlled and measured. “You know about that?”
You nodded, eyes wide and apologetic, clearly regretting bringing it up. “Yeah… I mean, it’s all over campus, right? The girls were talking about it in the locker room. I just—I didn’t mean to…I’m sorry.”
Rafe forced a smile, as if he was grateful for your concern. He leaned back in his chair, letting out a small sigh as if he was relieved to talk about it, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “It’s okay,” he said, his tone gentle. “I guess it’s just one of those things, y’know? We were together for a while, and it sucked when it ended.”
You looked down at your notes, fidgeting with the corner of a page. 
“She shouldn’t have done that to you.”
He let out a dry laugh, the bitterness threatening to seep through, but he quickly disguised it as a rueful chuckle. “Yeah, well, people do shitty things sometimes. Guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”
He noticed the way you seemed to relax as if you were relieved that he wasn’t angry. He needed to shift the conversation away from Jessica, and back to you, where it should be. “But hey,” he said, his voice brightening as if he was genuinely trying to shake off the bad memories, “Everything happens for a reason right?"
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden attention. “Right."
He leaned forward slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. “You’re not like everyone else around here. You’re real, y’know? Genuine. I like that.”
Bullshit. But he could see the effect his words had on you. Easy.
Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you looked away, a small, shy smile playing on your lips. “I’m just…here.”
Rafe shook his head, his smile softening, taking on a more sincere tone. “I’m glad I’m getting the chance to see that.”
You didn’t say anything for a moment, just looked at him with those wide eyes, as if you were trying to figure him out. Rafe held your gaze, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make the moment feel meaningful, even though he knew exactly what he was doing. He was reeling you in, one calculated move at a time.
Finally, you nodded, lips twitching, “Thanks, Rafe."
Oh, you were too perfect for this.
He grinned, leaning back in his chair as if the conversation had lightened his mood.
 “Anytime."
It was a perfect conversation, one that made you feel like he was letting you in on something personal, something real. And from the look on your face, it worked.
But inside, Rafe was fuming. Jessica had managed to worm her way into his head again, even indirectly. It was a reminder of why he was doing this in the first place. 
He plastered on another smile, picking up his pen and tapping it lightly against his notebook. “So,” he said, steering the conversation back to safer waters, “You think you can help me with this econ stuff? Because I’m pretty sure I’m doomed without you.”
You laughed, the tension from earlier completely dissipating. “Yeah, I think I can manage that.”
As you both turned your attention back to your notes, Rafe felt a sense of satisfaction. He was winning that bet on way or another. 
Over the next few weeks, Rafe made sure to stick to his plan. Slowly but surely, he worked his way into your life. He was always around, ready with a casual compliment or a small gesture that made you feel noticed, special. He’d walk you to class, carry your books, and offer to study with you whenever he had the chance. He knew how to play the long game, and with every passing day, you were warming up to him more and more.
He made sure to steer clear of anything that might remind you of Jessica or his past. Instead, he focused on building up your confidence, subtly encouraging you to step out of your comfort zone. 
He’d invite you to parties, introducing you to his friends, and before long, you were starting to come out of your shell. You even started to dress a little differently—nothing too drastic, but enough to catch people’s attention. The change was gradual, but it was happening, and Rafe could see it.
The first party he invited you to was at a swanky off-campus house, the kind of place you’d only ever heard about but never had the nerve to attend. He had that effect on you—made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you belonged in a world that had always seemed so out of reach. 
“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Rafe said, his voice smooth as silk. You hesitated, biting your lip, feeling out of place just imagining yourself in his world.
“I don’t know… I’m not really into parties,” you admitted.
Rafe grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “I promise I won’t let anything bad happen. Just give it a try, for me?”
His gaze was so earnest, so convincing, that you found yourself nodding. “Okay. I guess I could give it a shot.”
The first party was initially awkward—loud music, people you didn’t know, and a social scene that felt worlds away from where you belonged. 
But Rafe stayed close. 
The moment you walked in, the loud music and flashing lights overwhelmed your senses. You clung a little closer to him, who noticed and shot you a reassuring smile, his hand resting on the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd. He was different tonight—more confident, more assertive. 
“Relax,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re with me. Have some fun, sweets.”
You nodded, trying to loosen up, but the eyes on you—on both of you—were hard to ignore. People were noticing. Whispering. It was exactly what Rafe wanted.
He led you to where Kelce and Topper were already posted up, drinks in hand. The second they saw you, their eyebrows shot up, but they quickly masked their surprise with easy smiles. Rafe kept you close as he greeted them, his hand never leaving your back.
“Guys, this is her,” Rafe said, his tone casual but with a hint of pride. “Told you I’d get her to come out with us.”
Kelce looked you up and down, his smirk growing. “Well, well, Cameron. Didn’t think you had it in you.”
Topper raised his drink in your direction, his smile more genuine. “Nice to meet you. Rafe’s been talking you up.”
You managed a small chuckle, feeling the weight of their attention on you. “Nice to meet you too.”
Rafe gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you grab a drink? I’ll be right here.”
You nodded, grateful for the brief escape, and headed towards the makeshift bar in the kitchen. As soon as you were out of earshot, the easygoing demeanor Rafe had been maintaining with you slipped away, replaced by something more calculating as he turned back to his friends.
“So?” Kelce asked, “How’s the project going?”
Rafe shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “Better than expected. She’s starting to come out of her shell. Still got a long way to go, but I’d say we’re on track.”
Topper leaned against the counter, his gaze following you as you picked out a drink. “She seems… nice. You sure you want to go through with this, man?”
Rafe shot him a look, his expression hardening. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Topper shrugged. “Just saying. She doesn’t seem like the type who’s cut out for this crowd. Might be too sweet for what you’ve got planned.”
Kelce chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s sweet, alright. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? She’s not Jessica. And if he pulls this off, it’s gonna be legendary.”
Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk. “Exactly. She’s perfect for this.”
He said it with confidence, but there was something else in his eyes—something he quickly buried as he watched you make your way back with a drink in hand.
When you returned to the group, his expression softened instantly. He slipped back into the charming, attentive guy he’d been playing for you all night.
“Got something good?” he asked, nodding towards your drink.
You giggled, holding up your cup. “Just punch. Thought I’d start slow.”
He snorted, nodding approvingly. “Smart move. Don’t let these guys talk you into anything too crazy.”
The night went on like that, Rafe playing the perfect gentleman, always by your side, making sure you were comfortable, that you were enjoying yourself. He introduced you to more people, his arm around your shoulders, subtly guiding you through the social maze with ease. And every time you excused yourself—whether to grab another drink or use the restroom—his demeanor shifted. The smile would slip, and he’d share knowing looks with his friends, a silent acknowledgment of the game they were playing.
But you didn’t see any of that. 
You saw the guy who made you feel like you were finally part of something bigger, like you belonged. And as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, laughing, talking, feeling the walls you’d built around yourself start to come down.
Rafe noticed, of course. That was the whole point. He’d spent weeks laying the groundwork, and tonight was just the beginning. He was getting what he wanted.
But as he watched you laugh at something Kelce said, genuinely enjoying yourself, he felt a pang of something unfamiliar. It was brief, fleeting, but it was there. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something else. He quickly pushed it aside, reminding himself why he was doing this.
He knew better than to get too comfortable. 
He knew his ex wouldn’t stay out of his business forever, and sure enough, she confronted him right before class the next day.
“Rafe, can we talk?”
He didn’t look at her right away, instead shoving his notebook into his bag as if she wasn’t even worth the effort. But he couldn’t resist; he turned to her, keeping his expression neutral. “What’s up?”
Jessica glanced around, making sure no one was listening, before stepping closer to him. Her voice was low, almost pleading. “What the fuck are you doing?”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, playing dumb. “What do you mean?”
She huffed in frustration, clearly not in the mood for games. “Don’t act like you don’t know. She’s a nice girl, I know she’s not your type.”
Rafe couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips. “Jealous?
Jessica’s eyes flashed with anger, but there was something else there too—guilt. 
“No. You’re just going to use her to get back at me? That’s not fair. She doesn’t deserve that.”
He leaned in closer, his smirk turning cold. “You didn’t think about fairness when you were sneaking around with Tyler, did you? Why should I care about what she deserves?”
"Rafe."
"You only care about your precious reputation, so shut the fuck up."
Jessica flinched, “I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”
“Do you even realize what you did to me?” The memory of the last time he’d trusted her flashed before his eyes—the way she’d smiled at him. The same smile she had for someone else, “You don’t get to apologize now. You don’t get to tell me what’s fair.”
Jessica’s expression softened, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m not saying this for me. I’m saying it for her."
"Right, because you care so much about other people, huh?"
"You're being difficult for no reason."
Rafe clenched his jaw, every word she said feeling like a knife twisting in his gut. He wanted to lash out, to tell her that she didn’t get to play the moral high ground after everything she’d done. But instead, he just stared at her, his eyes hard and cold.
“Stay out of it, Jess” he said finally, his voice low and dangerous. “And keep your fucking mouth shut.”
She sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly as if she’d been expecting this. “Just think about it before you do something stupid."
Without another word, Jessica turned and walked away, leaving Rafe standing there, seething with anger. He watched her go, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Of course, she would act like she gave a shit about you the moment he’s attention shifted from her. She had no right to lecture him, no right to tell him what to do.
This was about revenge, about proving a point. You were just a means to an end, nothing more.
But you made it so fucking hard for him to keep his head in the game. 
Every time you smiled at him, every time you thanked him for something small, it chipped away at the cold resolve he had built up inside. He told himself it was just part of the plan, that getting close to you was necessary for the outcome he wanted. But the more time he spent with you, the more he realized that he was enjoying himself. 
He didn't even have to put in the effort to influence you. You began to speak up in class, even crack jokes with the other girls on the cheerleading squad. The transformation was happening right before his eyes, just like he’d planned. But instead of feeling satisfied, there was a knot of guilt forming in his stomach. You were changing, yes, but it wasn’t just on the outside. You were starting to trust him, to look at him like he was more than just some popular guy who was doing you a favor. You were starting to care, and that terrified him.
One night, after another party where you had danced a little closer, laughed a little louder, Rafe walked you back to your dorm. The campus was quiet, the stars above bright against the inky sky. You were buzzing with the energy of the night, still talking animatedly about how much fun you’d had. The sound of your laughter, the way your eyes lit up—it caught him off guard.
“Thanks for inviting me, Rafe. I never thought I’d actually enjoy these things, but you make it… I don’t know, easier, I guess.”
Rafe smiled down at you, trying to ignore the way his heart twisted at your words. 
“I’m glad sweets. You deserve to have fun.”
You looked up at him, your eyes softening. “I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you properly. For everything. You didn’t have to be this nice to me.”
For a split second, he saw you. Not as a means to an end, but as someone he genuinely cared about.
His expression faltered for a moment before he quickly recovered. “It’s no big deal. Really.”
But it was a big deal, and you both knew it.
You had gone from barely existing on the social radar to being someone everyone noticed, someone everyone wanted to be around. And it was all because of him. Rafe had given you that, but he knew he was taking something from you too—your innocence, your trust.
He walked you to your door, his usual confidence wavering as you turned to face him. There was something different in your gaze tonight, something that made his breath catch in his throat.
“Rafe… I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” you began, your voice a little hesitant.
He forced himself to stay calm, even though his heart was pounding in his chest. “Yeah? What’s up?”
You looked down, fiddling with the hem of your top before meeting his eyes again. “Why did you start talking to me? I mean, really. Was it because you felt sorry for me? Or… or something else?”
Rafe’s mind raced, trying to find the right words, the ones that wouldn’t hurt you. He could lie, like he’d been doing all along, or he could tell you the truth, risk everything.
But before he could answer, you continued, your voice softer now. “Because… I’m glad you did. Whatever the reason was. I’ve never felt this… this good about myself. And it’s because of you.”
Rafe swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.
Fuck. He’d never expected this, never thought that you would be the one to make him feel something real, something that wasn’t just part of his stupid revenge plan.
He’d thought he could control this, control you, but it was slipping through his fingers. He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
“You’ve always been amazing,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse. “I just… I just helped you see it.”
You grinned up at him, your eyes shining with gratitud. It was too much, too real, and Rafe could feel the walls he’d carefully constructed around his heart starting to crumble. You were looking at him like he was someone worth caring about, and for the first time, he felt like he was the one being played.
He couldn’t let you get any closer. If you did, he wouldn’t be able to follow through with his plan.
But pushing you away now, after all the effort he’d put in, would raise too many questions. So, he did the only thing he could think of—he leaned down and kissed you.
It was gentle at first, testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away, he deepened it, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were something fragile. Your lips were soft against his, and for a moment, Rafe let himself forget why he was doing this. He let himself enjoy the warmth of your body pressed against his, the way you sighed softly into his mouth.
But then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back.
The look in your eyes nearly undid him. There was so much trust, so much hope, and it made him want to break something, anything, just to stop feeling the way he did.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he murmured, his voice rough, as if the kiss had taken something out of him.
You nodded, still dazed, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah, tomorrow.”
This was wrong. 
He knew it was wrong. But in that moment, with the way you were looking at him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He watched you go, waiting until you disappeared into your dorm before he let out a shaky breath.
What the fuck was he doing? He couldn’t afford to second-guess himself now. Not when he was so close to winning and yet, he couldn’t help but feel that he was the one who was losing.
Later that night, as he lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Jessica’s words mocked him.
“I’m sorry okay? I shouldn’t have done what I did. But I fell in love with Tyler. I’m not sorry about that.”
He had scoffed at her then, dismissed her excuses as pathetic attempts to justify her shitty behavior.
But now, lying there alone, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was any different. He didn’t plan on feeling anything real for you. This was supposed to be a game, a way to hurt Jessica the way she hurt him. But somewhere along the line, things had changed.
How could he let this happen? How could he, of all people, start to care? He was supposed to be in control, supposed to be the one pulling the strings, not getting tangled in them.
And yet, the memory of your pretty face, the sound of your laugh, the warmth in your eyes—these were the things that lingered in his mind, all the damn time. 
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, rolling over and burying his face in his pillow.
The anger and bitterness that had fueled him for weeks were still there, but they were being drowned out by something else—you.
Rafe’s resolve had been wavering for days, but he pushed the guilt aside as he drove to campus the next morning. He was picking you up before class, something that had become a bit of a routine. It was a small gesture, but one that made you smile every time, and Rafe had to admit, he looked forward to seeing that smile.
When he pulled up to your dorm, you were already waiting outside, your bag slung over your shoulder. You looked different from when he first met you—still shy, but with a confidence that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle, but Rafe noticed. 
He noticed everything about you these days.
“Hey,” you said as you slid into the passenger seat, giving him that small smile that always made his chest tighten a little. “Thanks for picking me up.”
“Anytime,” he replied smoothly, shifting the car into gear. “Ready for another day of fun and learning?”
You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was a lightness in your expression that hadn’t been there a month ago. “If by fun, you mean trying not to fall asleep in econ, then yeah, totally ready.”
He chuckled, glancing over at you as he pulled onto the road. “I’m starting to think you secretly enjoy econ. You’re just trying to maintain your cool, indifferent persona.”
You laughed, the sound genuine and free, and Rafe felt that unfamiliar pang in his chest again.
“Yeah, that’s me. The cool, indifferent econ nerd.”
“See? I knew it,” Rafe teased, but there was an edge of something else in his voice, something he couldn’t quite shake.
The drive to campus was easy, filled with light conversation and the comfortable silence that had developed between you two. When you arrived, he parked in his usual spot, but instead of getting out right away, you turned to him, your expression suddenly serious.
“Rafe, can I ask you something?”
He froze for a split second, his mind racing. Had you figured it out? Did you know about the bet? But he quickly forced a casual smile, nodding.
“Sure sweets, what’s up?”
You hesitated, chewing on your lower lip, a habit he’d noticed you had when you were nervous.
“Why did you kiss me?”
Rafe’s heart pounded in his chest. This was the moment he’d been dreading—the moment when you’d start questioning everything. He couldn’t afford to slip up now.
“Why not?” he said, his tone light, but there was a hint of sincerity that even he didn’t expect. “I like you. I like being around you.”
You looked at him, your eyes searching his, trying to find the truth in his words. Rafe held your gaze, doing his best to keep his expression open and honest. After a moment, you nodded, as if you’d decided to believe him.
“Okay,” you said. “I just... I didn’t want to assume, y’know? It’s just... new.”
“Good new, though, right?”
“Yeah,” you admitted, “Good new.”
The rest of the day passed in a blur, with classes, coffee breaks, and more of Rafe’s effortless charm. But that moment in the car stuck with him. You were starting to get closer, to trust him, and every time you did, the guilt fucked with his head a little more. 
Later that day, when the two of you met up for a late lunch, he noticed the way you had begun to attract attention from others. Some guys glanced your way, clearly noticing the changes in you, and a few girls even stopped to chat with you—a far cry from the shy girl he’d first approached in the library.
As you two sat down at a table outside the campus cafe, he saw the way your eyes lit up when you spotted someone approaching. It was Leila, a girl from your cheer squad. She waved and came over, sitting down.
“Hey, you two,” she greeted, her eyes flicking between you and Rafe. “Mind if I join?”
“Sure,” you said, scooting over to make room for her. He nodded, keeping his expression neutral, but there was something about the way Leila looked at you that put him on edge.
The conversation flowed easily, with her complimenting you on something you’d done at practice the other day, and you blushing at the praise.
Rafe watched, a small smile on his face, but his mind was elsewhere. He could see how much you were changing, how you were starting to come into your own, and it was becoming harder and harder to justify what he was doing.
When Leila left after a few minutes, you turned to Rafe with a grin. “She’s nice. I didn’t think she even noticed me before.”
“She notices you now,” Rafe replied, his voice quieter than usual.
You looked at him, your smile fading slightly. “Is something wrong?”
Rafe hesitated for a moment, then shook his head. “No, nothing. Just... thinking.”
“About what?”
He leaned back in his chair. “About how you’re starting to steal everyone’s attention here. What am I gonna do when you’re the most popular one around here?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen anytime soon.”
Rafe smiled back, but the guilt was back, stronger than ever. You were starting to trust him, to believe in the friendship he was offering, and it was killing him.
As the afternoon wore on, he found himself more and more distracted by his thoughts. He needed to talk to someone about it, someone who knew the score.
Later that evening, after dropping you off at your dorm, he called Kelce. The phone rang a few times before his friend picked up, sounding slightly out of breath.
“Yo, Cameron. What’s up?”
Rafe took a deep breath, leaning against the side of his car. “I need to talk, man. About the bet.”
Kelce laughed, clearly not picking up on the seriousness in Rafe’s voice. “What, you already feeling bad for her? Didn’t think you’d go soft so fast.”
Rafe frowned, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that. It’s just... I didn’t think it’d be like this. She’s... she’s actually really nice, Kelce. Like, genuinely nice.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line before Kelce responded, his tone more serious.
“Dude, we all knew she was nice. That’s what makes this so good. You’re flipping the script. Just remember why you’re doing it.”
Rafe let out a frustrated sigh. “I know, but... She trusts me."
And I trust her, he wanted to add, but didn't.
“Look, Rafe, you’re in too deep to back out now. If you quit, she’ll still get hurt, and you’ll look like a fucking idiot. You gotta see this through. Just... keep your eye on the prize, okay? It’s not about her, it’s about Jessica.”
Rafe nodded, even though Kelce couldn’t see him. “Yeah... yeah, you’re right. I just needed to clear my head.”
“Good,” Kelce said. “Now go get some sleep or something. We’ve got a party this weekend, and I wanna see you back on your game.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks, man.”
By Friday, the campus was buzzing with weekend plans, and you were in a good mood, chatting excitedly about some party that night. You two were in the cafeteria, grabbing lunch, when it happened.
You were waiting in line for food, and Rafe had stepped aside to check his phone. When he glanced up, he saw a guy approaching you—a guy he recognized from the football team. A sleazy bastard.
The guy leaned in, flashing you a charming smirk, clearly trying to flirt. He wanted to pummel his face to the wall. Rafe watched from a distance as the guy made you laugh, his hand casually resting on the counter next to yours. Too fucking close.
The sight made something twist in his chest, something dark and possessive that he hadn’t expected. He'd never felt like this before. His grip tightened around his phone as he watched, his jaw clenching.
You seemed flattered but a little uncomfortable, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. Rafe could tell you weren’t used to this kind of attention, and it made him feel something primal, something that burned hotter than the guilt. He wanted to go over there, to tell that guy to back the fuck off, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there, seething, trying to keep his cool.
Scaring you away was the last thing he wanted to do.
When the guy finally walked away, you looked relieved, but Rafe was already moving. He crossed the cafeteria in quick strides, his eyes locked on you, his heart pounding. You spotted him coming and smiled, but it fell when you saw the look on his face.
“Rafe, what’s—”
He didn’t let you finish. Before you could say another word, he was right in front of you, his hand cupping your face as he pulled you toward him.
And then he kissed you.
It wasn’t like the kiss outsider your dorm. This was different. It was fierce, almost desperate as if he needed to prove something to himself, to you, and to everyone watching. His lips moved against yours with intensity, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you closer. He didn’t care who was around, who was watching. 
All he cared about was you, right there, in his arms.
You froze for a second, caught off guard by the suddenness of it, but then you melted into him, your hands clutching at his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. It was like all the tension, all the confusion, everything that had been building between you two, finally snapped.
Rafe deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt. His fingers tangled in your hair, and you let out a soft moan that only made him kiss you harder, his body pressing against yours like he couldn’t get enough.
People around you were definitely watching now, whispering, some even cheering, but Rafe didn’t care. He didn’t pull away until he was breathless, and even then, he stayed close, his forehead resting against yours, his breathing heavy. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw the way you were looking at him—dazed, flushed, your lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the kiss.
“What... what was that?” you asked, your voice shaky, your eyes searching his for answers.
Rafe knew he should say something, explain himself, but all he could think about was how much he wanted to kiss you again. Instead, he just shook his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
“Just couldn’t help myself,” he murmured, his voice low and rough.
You blinked up at him, still trying to process what had just happened, but there was no mistaking the way your body was responding to him. 
He finally stepped back, but kept his hand on your waist, grounding you as he looked around. Sure enough, the guy from earlier was watching. 
Rafe caught his eye, giving him a look that said everything without words. She’s mine.
When he looked back at you, he saw the confusion in your eyes and something else—something that looked a lot like longing.
He knew he’d just crossed a line, again, but in that moment, he didn’t care. All he cared about was the way you felt in his arms, the way you looked at him like he was the only guy in the world.
“C’mon,” Rafe said, his voice softer now. “We’ve got class.”
You nodded, still a little dazed, and let him guide you out of the cafeteria, his hand never leaving yours. He was in deeper than ever, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when you looked at him like that, not when his heart was pounding like this.
As you approached the building where your next class was, he stopped, turning to face you. He touched your cheek again, his thumb brushing against your skin, and you leaned into his touch.
“Rafe—”
“You’re my girl,” he whispered, his forehead pressing against yours again. “Okay?”
You nodded, your breath hitching as you looked up at him, your eyes wide and trusting. Rafe knew he was on the edge of something he couldn’t control, but as he leaned in for one more kiss, slow and tender this time, he realized he didn’t care.
“Rafe…” you began again, speaking against his lips. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you needed to understand about what you were, what you two were becoming. His thumb traced the curve of your jawline.
“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, his voice low, almost reverent. “I just… I need you to know that you mean something to me. This, us—"
“Okay.”
He was already in too deep.
And just like that, he got what he wanted. 
The next day, everything seemed to fall into place as if the universe has finally aligned for you. He asked you out, and just like that, you were together.
The next two months were a dream—utter bliss. You weren’t just happy; you were radiant. You’d become the most popular girl in school, and with him by your side, it felt like you were living in some sort of fairy tale. 
Every smile he gave you, every touch, every whispered confession of how perfect you were sent you soaring higher. He couldn’t get enough of you—your sweetness, your kindness, your genuine heart. It was as if he was falling more and more in love with you every single day. And you, you had never felt this alive.
But deep down, in a place he didn’t dare acknowledge, there was a shadow, a sliver of guilt that he pushed aside every time he looked into your trusting eyes.
He never officially ended the bet with Kelce and Topper. It was just a stupid game, something that seemed so insignificant compared to what he feels for you now. He told himself that he had forgotten about it, that it didn’t matter anymore.
After all, what you two had is real, right? And you, completely oblivious to the sinister origins of your relationship, continued to believe in the fairy tale.
Until it ended. 
⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ
It’s after cheerleading practice, and you’re alone in the locker room, stuffing your things into your bag. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and body spray, the usual post-practice atmosphere, but there’s something different today—a tension you can’t quite place. 
As you’re zipping up your bag, you hear voices nearby, just around the corner. Leila and Jessica, their conversation low but unmistakable. You wouldn’t normally eavesdrop, but something about the tone of their voices makes you pause, your heart suddenly beating a little faster.
"You were right," Leila says, her voice edged with a cruel satisfaction. "About your gut feeling with Rafe and his new girl."
Oh.
Jessica sounds tired, almost defeated. "What do you mean?"
Leila sighs, a dark amusement in her tone. "Kelce spilled everything when we hooked up last week. He was too high to keep his mouth shut. Rafe’s been playing her this whole time, using her to mess with you. It was all a bet."
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you can’t move, can’t think. The room spins around you, the ground shifting beneath your feet.
No. No, this can’t be real.
Leila’s voice continues, completely unaware of the devastation she’s causing. "It's so fucked up. She has no idea. She’s out there thinking he’s her Prince Charming, and all along it was just some sick game."
Jessica doesn’t say anything, but you can’t bear to hear more. You feel like you’re suffocating, your chest tightening as panic floods your system.
Before you know it, you’re running—out of the locker room, down the hall, anywhere to get away from those words, those horrible, soul-crushing words. Tears blur your vision as you stumble outside, gasping for air, for some kind of escape from the nightmare that’s suddenly become your reality.
The ache in your chest doesn’t fade as you bolt from the locker room, tears hot on your cheeks. You don’t know where you’re going, but you know you can’t stop moving. The hallways blur past you as you wipe at your eyes, struggling to catch your breath. Rage and heartbreak twist inside you like a knife, and before you know it, you find yourself standing outside the gym, where the sounds of basketball practice echo through the double doors.
You push through the doors without thinking, your heart pounding in your ears. The gym is full of movement—squeaking sneakers, the thud of the ball against the court, and the grunts of effort as the players practice their drills. But all of it fades into the background as soon as your eyes lock onto Rafe.
He’s in the middle of a play, dribbling the ball down the court with that intense focus you’ve always admired. For a moment, you hesitate, that familiar warmth of seeing him almost enough to make you stop. But then the memory of Leila’s words slams into you like a wave, and the anger surges back, drowning out everything else.
You storm across the gym, your footsteps heavy on the polished floor. Some of the players notice you, their eyes widening in surprise, but you don’t care. You’re beyond caring. The only thing that matters is confronting him, making him face what he’s done.
"Cameron!" you shout, your voice sharp, cutting through the noise of the practice.
He turns at the sound of your voice, surprise flashing across his face. The ball slips from his hands, bouncing away as the other players stop, confusion rippling through the group. You always call him by his name.
The coach starts to say something, but you barely hear him. All you can see is Rafe, standing there, looking at you with those eyes that you once thought held nothing but affection for you. 
Now, all you see is a liar.
“What’s wrong baby?” He jogs over to you, his brow furrowing.
You don’t answer immediately, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to hold yourself together.
But it’s impossible.
“Was I a bet?”
His expression changes from confusion to something closer to horror, his mouth opening as if to say something, but nothing comes out. The sound of your voice, trembling with disbelief and pain, seems to have stunned him into silence.
For a moment, you just stare at each other. You want him to deny it, to laugh and tell you it’s all some terrible misunderstanding. But deep down, you already know the truth. You saw it in his eyes the second he turned to face you, that flicker of guilt, that flash of something wildly desperate.
He reaches for you, his voice breaking. "Baby, wait, let me explain—”
“Was I a fucking bet?” you repeat, your voice louder this time, edged with a desperate, frantic energy that you can’t control. You take a step back as he tries to get closer, every muscle in your body screaming to get away from him, to escape the unbearable weight of the truth.
His eyes are pleading, searching yours for something, anything that might make this easier, but there’s nothing. No words, no excuses that can make this hurt any less.
“It started as a bet,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, but to you, it’s as loud as a gunshot. “But it’s not like that, I swear. I—”
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
He flinches at your words, pain flashing across his face, but you can’t stop. It’s like all the anger, all the heartbreak, all the humiliation you’ve been choking down is pouring out of you in a torrent, and you don’t have the strength to hold it back. You can see the panic rising in him, the desperation as he realizes just how badly he’s messed up. He takes another step toward you, his hand reaching out, but you jerk away, 
“We’re done.”
“Please, just listen,” he pleads, his voice cracking.
“No.”
And with that, you leave. 
Rafe’s voice echoes behind you as you walk away, but you refuse to look back. The gym doors swing shut, muffling the sounds of the practice resuming, and you’re left in the eerily quiet hallway, your breath coming in ragged gasps. 
The locker room is cold and empty when you push open the door. The scent of body spray and sweat lingers in the air. You head straight to your locker again, hands trembling as you fumble with the lock, desperate to escape. But before you can get it open, the door swings wide behind you, and you know, without turning around, that he followed you.
“Go away,” you say, your voice barely holding steady.
“I can’t,” he says, his voice strained with desperation. “Not like this.”
You spin around, your eyes blazing with anger. “You don’t get to decide that. You used me! And for what? Some sick joke with your friends?”
He takes a step closer, his hands raised as if to placate you, but you back away, your heart pounding. “I know I messed up,” he says, his voice thick with regret. “I know I should’ve told you the truth, but I—”
“But you didn’t,” you cut him off, your voice rising. “You let me believe that you cared about me, that everything was real, and all the while it was just a game to you. You and your friends laughed in my face the entire time, didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t a game,” he insists, his voice cracking. “It wasn't supposed to be like this, okay? This wasn't the plan. I changed. Being with you... it was the only thing that felt real to me.”
You shake your head, tears welling up in your eyes. “I don’t believe you.” 
Rafe looks at you, his expression torn between guilt and desperation. 
“It wasn’t a joke. It started as a stupid bet, but I never expected to actually—” He broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I care about you. That’s real.”
For a moment, you see the boy who had made you feel special, who had made you believe in something more. But it's not enough.
“I don’t even know who you are."
You want to believe him, to take solace in the idea that some part of what you had was real, but you can't. You shake your head again, a sob choking you as you turn away from him, your back pressing against the cold metal of the locker.
“It isn’t supposed to hurt like this,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “It’s not supposed to feel like a knife in your chest.”
Rafe takes another step closer, “Please, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “Just give me a chance to make this right.”
"You don’t get to have a chance. You don’t get to pretend this is some kind of love story. You lied to me. You used me.”
You look at him then, really look at him, and all you see is the boy who broke your heart. The boy who turned your world upside down with a single lie. You know that if you stay, if you let him talk, you might be tempted to forgive him. But you can’t. 
Not this time.
With a deep breath, you straighten up, wiping away the tears that have stained your cheeks. “I’m done.”
“Don’t say that,” he pleads, his voice thick with desperation.
But you’ve made up your mind. 
“I mean it. We’re done. I need you to stay away from me.”
The words hit him like a physical blow, and for a moment, he just stands there, staring at you as if he can’t believe what you’re saying.
But then he sees the resolve in your eyes, the finality in your tone, and he knows there’s no coming back from this.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “I’m so sorry.”
Without another word, you turn away from him, pushing past the locker room door and walking away. You hesitate for a split second. A small voice inside you screams to turn back, to give him one more chance, but then you imagine the laughter, the cruel satisfaction. 
The image of Rafe with his friends, laughing at your expense, sears itself into your mind. 
The door slams shut behind him, and he leans against it, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He doesn’t feel victorious. Instead, there’s a hollowness, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind that asks, “What now?” He clenches his fists, trying to silence it, but the emptiness remains.
This time, he doesn’t follow you. 
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beneathashadytree · 2 months
Text
RESPONSIBLE DADS - LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN X READER
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Warnings : autistic!Zayne with his autistic daughter, all of them are girl dads here (except for Xavier who has twins), cuteness-aggression bites, one mention of a gun (no one is harmed!), no mentions of pregnancy (their kids can be interpreted as biological or adopted), this isn’t proof-read, reader is gender-neutral!
Genre : so much domestic fluff ☹️🫶🏽
Word count : 2.3K words (holy shit???)
Additional notes : This is a combination of two asks I’d received a month or two ago about the LNDS men as dads while their partner is away, and Zayne in particular struggling with his own autism vs his child’s autism. The brain rot was real in this one😭 To anyone else reading this, my requests are still closed!! These are just old requests I had in my inbox🫶🏽
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“She went down without much of a fuss,” Zayne said, slowly closing the bedroom door behind him as he set his phone on the dresser and got ready for bed over the video call, despite the time zone differences. He’d tried to convince them to just let themself rest instead of staying up past 3 AM, but they’d paid him no mind and insisted on seeing him last thing before bed.
They hummed, watching him slip out of his button up through their screen with a fond gaze. “She is really quiet compared to what I’ve heard about kids her age.”
In the midst of folding his shirt, he paused, a slight crease between his eyebrows. “A little too quiet.” At his concerned face, they straightened up in their seat and leaned in closer to their phone. “I think… she has difficulty connecting with me.”
Their expression was unsure at that. “I don’t know, Zayne. You know she loves you…”
“I do,” was his swift answer, pausing as he pulled his pyjama shirt over his head, then popping out with his hair adorably mussed. “But maybe she feels like I wouldn’t understand her.”
No matter how much he wanted to seem stoic and unaffected by the prospect, there was no hiding the conflicted emotions swimming in his eyes. With an almost sad smile, they asked him, “Even though anyone that sees you two says you have so much in common?”
With a slight flush (was it out of embarrassment as he noticed his messy hair, or was it a twinge of pride in being so connected to his daughter?) he began to apply his minimal skincare that he’d grown used to with them, scarred skin deftly being cared for after years of neglect.
“Autistic girls have different experiences than autistic boys, and their struggles are often overlooked because of these differences. Maybe she subconsciously feels that we can’t bridge that gap.”
Resting their head against their hand, keen eyes bore through him. Zayne would never go unheard as long as they were there. “Do you feel that gap?”
He shrugged, swallowing thickly as he wiped the excess off on his hand towel. “It’s not about me. Studies show that—”
Shaking their head, they sighed a little in affectionate exasperation. “It doesn’t matter what studies say. You’re overthinking it because you want things to be perfect. It’s sweet, just… not very realistic.”
“Mm. I know,” he softly conceded, combing through his hair with a distant glimmer in his eyes. It wasn’t so easy, navigating the emotions and ideas of a child that one already struggled with for decades.
They apologetically smiled at him, then added, “She trusts you with her life because she knows how hard you try to understand her, no matter how difficult that may be sometimes. You give her the space to be able to communicate her needs properly, and that’s why she loves you beyond measure, Zayne.”
He looked away for a few beats, but that was enough time for them to see the misty-eyed wonder in his eyes as he looked at the crooked drawing on his bedside table that she’d made of him holding her in his arms.
His sweet daughter who carried a piece of his heart everywhere she went.
“Then she’s just like you. Very open with her affections.” Huffing out an impossibly tender laugh, he picked up his phone once again and began to climb into bed, his shoulders sagging with relief; like he needed that reassurance to be able to nestle his body into the mattress, cold as it was without his lover. “Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve it from you both…”
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“You’re gonna get sick like that, and guess who’ll be cleaning up that mess?” Rafayel frowned, grabbing his daughter by the scruff of her neck and carrying her off before she got her pretty dress drenched by the wave that came crashing down where she’d been standing.
“I can’t get sick from water, daddy, and you know it,” came the reply between giggles, her eyes closed as she relished in the spray of seawater.
With a grunt, he fumbled with his phone a little as he switched to carrying her against his hip with one arm, before turning back to the ongoing video call. “Holding down the fort?” they teasingly asked, arching their brow at their daughter’s windswept hair and inevitably sandy fists curled up against Rafayel’s chest.
“She likes to bully me.” He pouted as he saw two pairs of mischievous eyes looking at him. “No guesses as to where she picked that up from.”
“Are you sure that your six year old daughter—who, mind you, is as cute as a button—is bullying you?”
“Daddy’s just silly, Lemurians are fine with water,” his daughter tried to reason with what she felt was perfectly logical. “He just doesn’t want to wash my clothes again if I get them wet.”
“And why should I?” he indignantly huffed out at the grin that showed she was definitely up to no good. “They’ll get dirty ten seconds later anyways. It’s such a pain.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t leave paint buckets everywhere, then I wouldn’t be on my fourth dress of the day.” Her sassy mutter under her breath was the last straw, and then his instincts took over and—
Chomp!
His teeth nibbled on her round little cheeks, cuteness aggression washing away any possible annoyance (which he’d been feigning, anyways) at the prospect of having to do the laundry all over again. She cried out in protest, though her shreaks of laughter and tighter hold on him gave away the fact that—not unlike his partner—she loved every bit of it.
“You got my face all dirty,” she whined, wiping her cheek against his silk shirt as he walked them back up to the house, much to his dismay.
A chuckle came from his screen, and he flushed under the sweet gaze and the grin he missed so much. “There goes another round in the washing machine. Y’know, Raf, it’s not the smartest move around to wear your favorite clothes around your kid.”
“No kidding,” he grumbled, though there was no bite behind his words. In fact, the tender look in his gem-like eyes only spoke volumes of the adoration he held inside. And maybe his little girl felt it, and decided it would be the perfect moment to press a kiss to where she could reach, right over his heart.
“I don’t mind the paint, daddy. You always make the prettiest things with it, pretty just like you,” she softly said, her tiny index finger toying with the pearlescent button on his blouse.
How much more did she want to squeeze his heart in his chest? He didn’t think he could possibly love her any more than he already did, and yet here she was, proving over and over again that she was the greatest gift he could ever be blessed with after all these years. Walking into their home with sandy feet and salty skin was no longer a dream, but a part of his quaint little life.
“Even if you did ruin my favorite dress and sandals.”
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“Papa’s been asleep for three hours now,” she whined in a low voice, her bottom lip jutted out as she looked back at Xavier curled up in a ball in the middle of the unmade bed, legs tangled in the messy sheets. She then turned back to the videocall at hand. “Can’t you wake him up, please?”
Her twin brother popped up from behind her and patted her shoulders in what he hoped was a soothing manner. “He’s tired after he played with us. Let’s leave him for a bit.”
With a downcast gaze, she reluctantly nodded and walked out with him, the phone shaking as it was a little too big for her small hands.
Now out in the living room, they could finally raise their voices a little. “Papa cleaned up in the morning too. We probably shouldn’t have asked him to play with us.” He looked a little forlorn as he fiddled with his fingers. Painfully shy, it often showed when he was doubting himself. “We tried to help him after lunch, but—”
“That’s okay, what matters is that you both tried to lend him a hand,” they sweetly reassured them as they smiled through the screen. “And I’m sure if he was too tired to play with you guys, he wouldn’t have offered it in the first place.”
Their daughter gasped, eyes shining in awe at that. “How did you know that Papa was the one who came up with the game?”
“Because he waits for playtime every day, just to spend time with you guys. He’s always so excited, y’know?”
With matching grins (though one was more bashful than the other), the two seven year-olds looked significantly lighter than they had been when the call had first started. The precious moment was soon interrupted by a yawn from behind and a tuft of blonde hair taking up half the background.
“Did you two sneak off to have them all to yourself?” came Xavier’s sleep-addled voice, as he shuffled to pull them onto his lap and readjust the camera. “Cheeky, taking advantage of my nap.”
His daughter laughed, her hands going to loop around his neck. “We weren’t! Promise.”
Her brother reached up to pat down Xavier’s bedhead, gently combing through the soft locks. “You looked tired, Papa. We didn’t want to wake you up with our voices.”
At that, Xavier couldn’t help the upwards quirk of his lips, all the love one could contain threatening to burst through as he held his world between his fingertips—and the best part of him miles away but no further from the heart.
“You’re sweet, just like a certain someone we all miss,” he said, before kissing their foreheads and ruffling their hair, earning little grumbles of protest. Turning his attention back to the videocall, Xavier’s eyes softened. “How long until we can take naps together on the couch again?”
His partner sighed, glancing at the calender on the wall for a moment. “Should be three days. It’s hell without you guys. Maybe I’ve gotten used to waking you all up for an hour in the mornings.”
“Hey, it’s all because of Papa!”
“He does sleep in twice as long as us…”
“And it’s gotten even worse now that you’re gone.”
He chuckled at their sulking feeding off each other, and the collective agreement that things just weren’t the same when his lover wasn’t beside him where they belonged. “Then maybe this should be enough to convince them to hurry back to us so we can get up early every day, hmm?”
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“Tell me why Luke and Kieran frantically called me up and told me stop you from endangering our one year old girl. Now.”
“Well, hello to you too, sweetie.” Sylus rolled his eyes at the clearly enthusiastic greeting. “I’ve missed you too. I’m doing good without you for two weeks. Thanks for asking.”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t give me that crap. You’ll live.” Scoffing, they crossed their arms in front of their chest. “Less avoiding the topic, more explaining why your seconds in command are treating you like a ticking bomb.”
“They’re more like lackeys, you know.” A hint of irritation climbed up his spine. Luke and Kieran were more like lost puppies that would be a danger to themselves—and society—if they were left to their whims. That’s all that they were (or so he tried to convince himself).
They waved him off, knowing that his half-assed words weren’t to be taken seriously. “I beg to differ. Now, where is she and what happened?”
Silence settled for a few moments, but then he realized it wasn’t in his favor to not quickly come clean. “She was playing around with me in bed, then seemed fascinated by my left pocket. Said pocket… may or may not have had a gun.”
Leaning in close to the camera, they sighed heavily, and pinched the bridge of their nose. “And I’m assuming her magic little fingers found the trigger.”
“More or less yes,” he mumbled under his breath, swallowing thickly as he met their dead-eyed stare. “Had to whip it out and fling it across the room… which may or may not have caused it to slam into the new bookcase and send it toppling.”
It didn’t matter how many people he’d managed to fearlessly face down; pinned underneath his partner’s disapproval, he found himself unable to move. “And that’s where they came in?”
Sylus hummed, flipping the camera and showing them the fractured remains on the floor. “Sorry about that, sweetie. Didn’t have the time to clean it up, what with feeding her and getting her ready for bed.”
“It’s fine, I can build another one.” Their quick dismissal was followed by the furrowing of their eyebrows. “What matters is that you prioritized her safety first.”
“Of course,” he was quick to reply, turning the camera back to himself, before he chuckled a little, sweetness seeping through his voice, “Though I do admit, seeing her have no self-preservation instincts really did make her strikingly similar to you in that regard.”
“Really flattering, hearing you praise her brashness and compare it to mine.” Their expression then grew more serious, and they worried their bottom lip between their teeth. “But… please. Don’t keep any weapons in the same room as her. She’s naturally curious.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he murmured, having had his dose of sheer panic at her tiny hands. He couldn’t remember a moment in his life when he’d been as terrified as he was earlier, his blood turning to ice at the thought of endangering her because of his own fast-paced life.
“I know you’ll be more careful. You’re so good to her—and me,” they quietly mused, a grateful look on their face as they admired him—tired ruby eyes, unruly silver hair, and all.
And Sylus had no control over his own lovesick stare, perfectly content with dancing in their palm for the rest of their lives. After all, he’d found the only two people in this world he could forfeit his life for. There was no shame in admitting it—and so he did, ever so softly. “I suppose you can take pride in knowing that you both have me wrapped around your fingers.”
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shaguro · 8 months
Text
— ✰ NEVER LOSE ME | CONNIE S.
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✧synposis: connie loves to visit his favorite girl after his races.
✧contents: smut with a lil plot. (streetracer!connie x stripper reader, reader is black. (she has a fro but no other physical descriptions are given besides that.) unestablished relationship. unprotected sex (p in v) breeding kink?? unrequited feelings but not really. reader is just young, sexy and free; just having fun. 🩷 very inspired by the song by flo milli, doesn't follow that exact plot though! mdni.
✧word count: 1.6k.
✧shanti’s note: chile… i made three different drafts before i settled on this one, okay! so it was definitely a major work in progress for a while but we made it yall! i'm so nervous about this one for some reason, can't pinpoint why. anywho, i hope y'all enjoy it. forgot to answer the ask but THANK YOU for the ask anon, and i hope you enjoy it 🩷
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all the other dancers wondered how you managed to bag the connie springer, a well-known street racer in your area. he was a loyal client. always respectful, tipped well — not to mention, he’s fine as fuck. connie always came to see you after one of his many winning races, ready to shower you in affection and with money he just won. so just like the other times, you’re in one of the private rooms in the strip club; the pink led lights illuminated your soft skin, showcasing all the dips and curves of your beautiful body.
“it’s because of you, baby.” connie licks his lips, tattooed hands rested on the fattest part of your ass, only separated by the thin fabric of your thong. “you’re the reason i never lose.”
“oh please.” you kiss your teeth. with your hands on his knees, you lean forward to give him the view you knew he loved. “you say that shit every time you come see me. we both know it’s not true, so stop it.”
now it was his turn to suck his teeth, his hand meeting your ass with a hard smack! you gasp and almost jolt forward but connie’s hand is on your throat, pulling you backwards until your bare back is against his chest. you tilt your head to meet those pretty hazel eyes and god, his glare was so intense it actually made you nervous.
and it had your pussy fluttering, clenching on nothing.
“i say it ‘cuz i mean it.” his free hand trails up your thigh, stopping dangerously close to your core. he chuckles when you spread your legs, watching your reflection intently in the tall mirror. “didn’t even do anything yet and look, already openin’ up f’me.”
this sort of interaction should not be happening between a dancer and a client, you knew that — when it came to connie though, he was the only exception. maybe it was because you felt like he saw you, went out of his way to have an actual relationship with you. connie wanted you to be his girlfriend but you always refused. you were too sexy, too carefree to be tied down by anyone, especially a man.
it would be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy the man’s company though; you two had gotten close, close enough that you’d link up outside the club. late nights spent in his customized red wraith, hanging out the window as the cool evening breeze hit you. connie would buy you all kinds of jewelry and the biggest bouquets of red roses you’d ever seen. take you out on dates, even flew you out once. but you were just having fun and that didn’t mean you needed to be with him.
in moments like this, though? you considered that possibility a little more.
“connie, mmm.” you moaned, his nimble fingers rubbing at your barely-clothed clit. there’s something about his touch that electrifies your whole body, your hips rolling, seeking more friction. “my b-boss might pop in, we shouldn’t..”
connie hums in acknowledgment, his wet tongue tracing along your neck. “i don’t give a fuck and you know that.” indeed, you did. “she was on your ass last time?”
the last time your boss had walked in, connie had you on your back, legs spread wide as he ate you out like a man starved. it was embarrassing, even connie couldn’t save you from the lengthy lecture you received. you don’t remember every single thing your boss said but she made one rule very clear: no fucking in her strip club.
you were a fan favorite so she wouldn’t get rid of you, even if you had a tendency to bend the rules.
“she was.” you sigh, leaning your head back on his shoulder. one of your hands were on his head, feeling on his blonde buzzcut while his lips latched onto delicate skin. “i don’t give a fuck either.”
his chuckle vibrated through your skin, sent shivers up your spine. you knew he’d just left a mark with the way his tongue swept over the damage, another trace of him that would need extra concealer.
“how much time do we have left, pretty?”
you look up to the bedazzled glittery clock on the wall, squinting your eyes to see it better. “hmm.. like twenty minutes?”
connie scoffed. “i’ll make you cum in ten.”
all that could be heard in the dimly-lit room were the sounds of your sweet cries as your ass ricocheted off connie’s pelvis, the steady clap clap clap so loud in your ears. you were on all fours with connie right behind you. he had one hand cupped on your jaw, keeping your head upright and the other on the fat of your hip — digging crescents into your soft skin with each snap of his hips.
“open your eyes, baby. look and see how pretty you look.” he gives your jaw a light squeeze and you comply, slowly opening your lashed eyelids to observe yourself, to drink in the mess he’s made of you.
your brown curly fro ruffled and scattered, drool trickling from your open mouth with one hand on the crystal mirror to brace yourself. you swore your eyes had crossed from the overwhelming pleasure you felt and he was so deep — damn near touching your lungs, knocking all the air out of them.
and then connie is leaning forward, his breath ghosting your ear. “see? so pretty.” this was anything but an innocent statement. connie took pride in having you like this — completely dumb off his dick to the point that all you could do is beg, whine for more and he’d never hold back. he’d give it all to you.
not only his dick but he’d give his whole heart too, the whole damn world if it meant he’d never lose you.
“c-connie, ohhfuck.” you mewl, your free hand is reaching behind you, scrambling to find his arm to claw at or anything to steady yourself with. “so deep, i c-can’t—“
“you can, baby.” he coos. connie holds your arm and to your horror, bends it to a degree at the small of your back, keeping it in place. his pace never falters, grinding into that swollen spot inside you so deliciously, you couldn’t breathe — any attempts at sound caught in your throat.
“always take me so well—fuck.” connie lets out a moan so erotic, your pussy clenches involuntarily around him. “l-love this fuckin’ pussy.”
your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at connie’s reflection in the mirror, admiring the handsome man that tore you up with ease. his head is tilted down with his bottom lip captured between his top row of pretty white teeth, eyes trained on where your bodies connected. he was mesmerized at how you swallowed all his dick so greedily, sinking deeper and deeper as you fucked back into him, a white milky ring of cream forming on the base of his length — it was truly a sight like no other.
“want you to myself,” connie grits out, landing a quick slap on your ass, rubbing the tender flesh right after to soothe the sting. “c-can’t lose you, (y/n)—hah—can’t let anyone else h-have you.”
“c-connie, you—“
“tell me,” he interrupts and his eyes meet yours in the glass, all low and dark, full of passion. “tell me you’re mine, that this—” his hand trails down the arched curve of your back, it was like fire trailed behind his fingertips. “—is all for me, only for me.”
you nod dumbly, not even realizing what you’re saying, your voice only a whisper. “y-yes, it’s y-yours.”
connie shakes his head and leans forward once again, this time with a sharp thrust into your soppy cunt, filling you to the hilt. you gasp and you can’t stop your eyes from rolling into your skull, from crying out his name.
“gotta be louder than that, pretty. say it one more time f’me?” he’s pressing wet kisses along your jaw and neck, clouding your focus even further. you could feel his dick pulsing inside you, stretching you out so perfectly. you wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, letting him ruin you till the end of time.
“i-it’s—“ you inhale, a deep shaky breath. “it’s all yours, connie. this p-pussy is yours, so fuck me like you m-mean it.”
it’s like as soon as you say those words, a switch flips in connie’s brain.
instead of straightening his posture, his chest is flush against your back, the gold chain on his neck dangling over your shoulder as he starts to rut his hips into you with no precision. and it’s so filthy, your poor cunt squishing and squelching sporadically, warm milky slick trickling down your thighs.
“gonna—nghh, gonna fuckin’ cum.” his voice raised an octave, all slurred and whiney. “where… where d-do you want it, baby?”
he was expecting to hear your ass or your back, maybe even your face if you were feeling extra nasty. nothing prepared him for that pretty whine you let out prior to saying,
“inside! want it inside con, wanna feel it..” you give him the cutest pout and all he could think was fuck, you would really be the death of him.
only a few moments passed before you got what you wanted — connie’s hot, sticky cum paints your inner walls generously and it’s so much, each rock of his hips had the fluid gushing out of you. it sends you right over the edge. your legs give out, the sheer force of your orgasm had you trembling, limp in connie’s strong arms. you glanced tiredly at the ticking clock one last time and damn, he really did make you cum in ten minutes.
there was no time to recover because as you two were on the floor, tangled and sweaty, still out of breath — your boss slams the door open, her face screwed with anger.
“both of y’all, get the fuck out!”
but you didn’t care, not at all. this just meant you'd have another one of those nights, music blasting from those booming speakers as connie sped down the freeway, his hand on your thigh when he'd repeat those six words without fail, "i never want to lose you."
tonight, you decided that he wouldn't.
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razzle-n-dazzle · 7 months
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saw u wanted more Adam fics
Adam x f!reader
reader is trying to sleep but Adam keeps trying to show her and tell her stuff. “Like babe hey babe look at this!”
“Babe babe wait did I tell you?”
“Babe holy shit wait guess what!!”
*meanwhile she screams into her pillow*
ᯓ★ "Adam, Love, SHUT THE F-" Adam / Reader | Drabble-ish
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ᯓ Do you know those days where you just need a little piece and quiet? Like after a long day of work, where your boss was being unreasonable and your coworkers were being even more unbearable than usual. A long day when you go out to eat for lunch and yet the place you decide to go is busy more than usual, and of course it's on the one day you just wanted an easy meal, so you decide to sit and wait. What is the harm of that? Apparently, a lot. Especially when everyone has a stick shoved up their ass today, and when running over your lunch would have been understood and excused any day sparked a fire from Hell in Heaven. And it was only my five minutes! You were late to the office by five minutes despite having been sitting, waiting for lunch for twenty out of your thirty allotted minutes, and doing work to be ahead of schedule for your boss! You were late by five minutes because the sidewalks had been unreasonably crowded for that time of day and you had sprained your wing rushing not to be late earlier that morning because your boyfriend wanted to be up your ass for an extra five minutes this morning!
ᯓ Safe to say you just proved that there could be bad days in Heaven, no matter what anyone else said and you desperately needed a nap. Or maybe you just needed to knock out for the rest of the day, you weren't sure, all you knew was that your bed was calling your name and that was the only thing on your mind right now. Well, it had been the only thing on your mind until you stepped foot into your shared apartment. "Oh perfect fucking timing, Sugartits, come here!" Adam, with an obnoxious amount of energy today, waved you down to the couch. "Hurry up! You know I love to see that ass move when it walks, but this is super fucking important." And what could entertaining your boyfriend before you went and knockout for the rest of the night do? You mean, it was only thing he wanted to show you.
ᯓ "Fucking, look. Look!" Adam exclaimed as you heavily sat down next to him, allowing for him to cheekily swing an arm around your shoulder. This promptly led him to lean against you as he stuck his phone out, a video pulled up. You watched it to entertain him and his little fancy for whatever he had found; Being able to snuggle into his side in the process and listen to his hysterical laughter during the whole venture. It wasn't nothing too exciting, some sort of slapstick humor video and you understood why Adam found it hilarious, but you just didn't have the energy to laugh at it today. So you gave him a small chuckle as his arm found itself crossing down your back and wrapping around your hip, his hand resting on your thigh. "Oh fucking shit! You see, now that shit if fucking humor, comedy gold!" You needed whatever acid trip Adam was on and desperately.
ᯓ You would hum briefly in agreement towards his statement, feeling as his chest quickly rose and fall as he choked out laughter. Even with such motions you couldn't help but be drawn in by his warmth, snuggling closer to him. And you're sure he noticed, as he was sneakily trying to coax you more and more, using the hand that now was daringly close to your ass, to sit on his lap. Against his harsher, more lively breath, yours was slower and shallow, and as Adam managed to get you to snuggle up to his chest while on his lap, he took notice. It was hard to not to, especially when the sound of you not laughing with him just hit his ears. So confused, Adam would pear down at you. A few nervous bits of laughter left him, a silent signal for you to take notice of how he noticed your odd behavior, yet he died down as you didn't seem to notice (or care) much. Which caused his eyes to narrow and his eyebrows to frown up, a worried frown tugging onto the side of his lips. "Uh, Babe, you good?" His question was accompted by his gravely voice, which was now lower in volume and a lot less sure of himself. "You didn't fucking laugh at the video."
ᯓ "You do know this is comedy gold right? Gold! Not laughing at it would be a fucking crime." Adam would wave his cellphone near your face, flashing you with the bright light which caused you to promptly turn your head away from him. He noticed as your face scrunched, yet you didn't use your wings or hands to knock the phone out of his hand like usual. And that's when he really started to become concern. You weren't acting as you normally would with him, you weren't laughing at the videos he founded or retorting to his antics with your own. You were just laying there, curled up onto his lap with droopy wings and a weak hold around his chest. "Holy shit, Babe, you're not dying are you?" Was the first thing that blurted out of Adam's mouth, being the first thing thought that crossed his head as finally took a real notice of how bad of a state you're in. How the feathers on your wings seemed all out of sorts, how one wing was a little more puffed than the other, how eyebags had began to form under your eyes, and just how tired and weak you looked.
ᯓ "...and you're not getting fucking ugly either are you? It's not contagious is it? Because I can't be fucking ug-" You were swift to cut Adam off, pressing one of your hands against his mouth to muffle any more stupid shit he had to say in this moment. To which Adam drew back a little and started down at you, a moment of shock before unamusement crossed his face. He was gentle, more so than usual, as he picked up your hand by the wrist and drug it away from his mouth. Though he didn't say anything for a good moment, silently (and a little anxiously) waiting to see if you would say anything to him. And maybe it was the nerves on being the on the battle field too many times, or the anxiety of losing another lover, but Adam grew more and more disturbed at your lack of communication or movement the longer the silence wore on. "Babe," He gently nudged you, watching as you just let yourself roll back into place. You didn't even give a hum that time. Now Adam could feel his stomach doing little backflips. "Babe." This one came out a bit more stern as he nudged you a little harder. Yet, you only rolled back into place, not acknowledging his efforts on trying to make sure you weren't dying. Were you fucking dying? Holy shit, that would not be something Adam would want to go through today. "Babe! Sugartits!" Adam shouted, forcefully shoving you away from his warmth by the shoulders, "Please fucking tell me you're not about to die on me because that would be really fucking traumatic!.. If you're going to die at least do it in like, the bedroom or something!"
ᯓ You knew Adam didn't mean it, that he was just trying to stir a reaction out of you to make sure you were alright, yet his comment kind of pissed you off. Less so than when he forcefully drew you away from your only source of heat and comfort from the cruel reality you had to live today. So, reluctantly, you gave our a murmur, "...tired... shut up.." and forcefully tried to lay against Adam again; Trying to just take a small nap, or simply hide from the day you had today in your boyfriend's arms and warmth. Even if one of his hands had been resting on your ass. "Babe, you can't be fucking tired, it's not even dinner. Who the fuck is going to cook because last time I fucking remember you telling me I couldn't." Adam asked in a huff, though was silently relieved that you weren't just about to die in his arms like some dramatic soap opera. So, he let you lay back against his chest. It felt nice to have your weight there anyways. "Adam... shush.." Again, you tried to hush your rather obnoxious boyfriend, even for a little. And you knew he knew that you were tired, on the verge of passing out; It was a dead give away when he fluffed out his wings and wrapped them around you, noticing had dead you felt against him.
ᯓ "But you're still fucking making dinner though, right?" He would quip, a snicker growing on his dumb face as he leaned down to the side, promptly laying you both down. Now you knew he was just being a dick about it, that or he was just glad that you weren't silently suffering and dying against his chest. But either way, you were going to leave his question unanswered as you buried his head against his chest. No matter how much shit Adam might give you, you always found comfort in his warmth and with him being near. It was kind of like having an annoying dog that looked and sounded all tough and scary and was sometimes a big dick, but secretly cared about you under all the gunk. "Fuck it, I'll just order in." Adam muttered, placing his chin on the top of your head (having to curl around you a little to do so) as you were sure he began to pull up menus of restaurants nearby that delivered. And as you drifted off to sleep, you liked to believe he did so, so you didn't have to worry about cooking when you woke up. But you knew that was only half the truth, the other half was that he was probably craving those lamb chops he absolutely adores. And you were fine with that.
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