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#there's something so messed up about them
comatosebunny09 · 2 days
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“Sylus,” you whisper. It nearly comes out as a purr. A plea.
You’re on tippy-toe, clasping his hand with two of yours, tangling your fingers together. Pressing your warm bosom against his bicep, and he serves as your anchor in a world slowly blurring into colors, sounds, and sensations.
Sylus angles himself closer to you, offering the gentleman he’d been conversing with a curt, dismissive smile before grazing your ear with his lips.
“Everything alright, sweetie?”
The abrasive, low gravel of his voice shoots straight to your core, and you pinch your thighs together to ward off the pleasant throbbing taking place between them.
Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. Lids droop as the scenery beyond your boyfriend’s arm bends in and out of focus. You smoosh your cheek against his arm, trying vainly to maintain your bearings.
“I, um…I think somebody put something in my drink.”
His brows lift in alarm. He snatches you closer until you stumble over his feet. Then, he drapes an arm about your shoulders, tethering you to the rigid pane of his body with fingers snuck up into your coif.
“What did you say?”
You cling to the lapels of his jacket. Brush your lips against the material, leaving a pretty, rouge smudge on it. “Yeah. It’s alright, though,” you laugh all breathy. Nuzzle into the safety his chest exudes, innocently gazing up into eyes that burn like wildfires. “Kinda like how it feels.”
He blinks disbelievingly at you. Works his mouth around a rebuttal. But to set his worries to rest, you take his hand by the thumb, discreetly guiding it between your thighs, grateful your dress hides your misdeeds from the prying eyes of the museum gala’s other attendees.
Sylus sucks in a breath when he feels you, hot and pulsing and so very wet in his palm. You nod sluggishly at the question his stare poses.
He draws you impossibly closer, your hands clasped around his biceps for support. “That bad?” he queries on a rasp, making you feel weaker.
You shudder with a pathetic sound in your throat when he cups your muff, deft fingers easing along your slit. Your legs threaten to give way, and you would crumble if not for his arm around your waist keeping you pinned to him.
“That bad.”
“Do we need to leave?” he asks, voice strained with barely concealed desire against the crown of your head.
He idly sways your bodies to the soft, ambient jazz played by the band. Reluctantly, he retracts his hand from the milky mess between your thighs, instead perching it on your waist whilst the other settles on your back.
You chuckle, still trying to catch your breath. “Probably.”
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harunayuuka2060 · 3 days
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Rook: Is this how they look, Monsieur? *shows Epel the sketch he drew of MC*
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Epel: ...
Epel: What the heck, Rook-senpai-
Vil: Rook has always had an eye for detail. You can tell by how consistently he sketches Neige.
Rook: I also have sketches of you, Roi du Poison.
Epel: ...
Epel: Well, I wasn't expecting you would get them right- Shoot! I should've asked them if it's okay!
Vil: If they're watching you, they would have known about it by now.
Epel: ...
Epel: Now I feel like a bad friend.
Rook: Non! You were just excited to share something about them, Monsieur Crabapple! I'm sure your friend will understand.
*As if on cue, MC calls.*
MC: Don't sulk. *then hangs up*
Epel: ...
Epel: *blushes*
Vil and Rook: ...
Vil: Epel-
Epel: No. Don't say it out loud.
MC: ...
MC: *feels slightly embarrassed*
Ace: Ooh~ So Epel has a little crushy-crushy~.
Epel: HOW DID YOU KNOW?!
Ace: Rook-senpai.
Epel: ...
Deuce: But he mentioned that you only described him—was the sketch really that accurate?
Epel: ...
Epel: Yes.
Ace: Huh. *teasingly* Did you at least hold hands? Oh. Wait.
Ace: You did. Under the blanket.
Epel: *whacks him*
Deuce: ...
Epel: *a blushing mess* Say another word, and I’ll knock you into next week!
Ace: Geez, man! Your warning was late!
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jellinuy · 3 days
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trapezing the line between a good nap and staying awake, laid atop your boyfriend's chest, curled up in his t-shirt with droopy eyes — that was your picture-perfect setting. it's late afternoon, the blue of the sky bleeding into pink and orange giving the living room that oddly-nostalgic ‘early evening’ glow. satoru, pretty ocean eyes focused on the top of your head and the visibility of drool through your slightly-parted lips, rambles on about something — or maybe it's nothing; he loves to hear himself talk. your body is too lead-heavy to care, anyway.
“…’nd you're so pretty," he murmurs against your hair, voice fuzzy, soft kisses punctuating just how much his sweet nothings really meant something. “i don't mean jus’… pretty, i mean like out-of-this-world, baby.” another kiss. “every star in the world could come out all at once” — another kiss — “and none'd be half as gorgeous, 'm so serious.”
he'd only really soften like this when you were asleep and he was sure you couldn't hear him.
“how’d a bastard like me end up with an angel like you, huh?”
satoru would tell you all the things he normally couldn't say when you were conscious — at least, not without hiding it behind some stupid joke or unserious comment or goofy smile.
“i’m so shitty at playin’ it cool,” he chuckled, fingers slipping under your back, tracing his love for you into the skin curled around your spine. “i dunno how you haven’t caught on yet, pretty girl. i’m a fuckin’ mess when it comes to you.”
these were things he could say raw and unfiltered and without having to worry about defacing them with humor and brushing it under the rug. it was easier to tell you while you were asleep. you couldn’t proved he’d ever waxed poetic to you, because, 1.) nobody would ever believe you, and 2.) he’d just blame it on your grogginess and never bring it up again.
you stir at the familiar tingles that shoot up your vertebrae, lashes still resting against the sun-coated apples of your cheeks when you hum, “mm?” so sweetly, because you thought you’d heard him say something. satoru’s body melts into a puddle: “nothin’, baby.” lithe, gentle fingers swirl from your spine, back over your shirt, and across your scalp to lull you back into your nap, hoping you couldn't hear the bass drum that had replaced his heart when you'd woken up.
he kissed your head. drank you in in a way he could never even verbalize if he tried. “nothing,” he repeated. another kiss. “go back to sleep.”
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itneverendshere · 3 days
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If you ever heard the song “Insecure” by Jazmine Sullivan, I was wondering if you could read a fic with rafe about that
it’s Like toxic!rafe and reader
insecure - bsf!toxic!rafe x kook!reader
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If someone asked you how it started, you couldn’t even tell them.
It was Rafe Cameron you were talking about.
The guy was a walking red flag, all swagger, all ego, and too much money for his own good. He had the type of face that made you forgive him even when you didn’t want to. And trust, you'd tried to not want to. But that never worked out, obviously.
It’s not like you thought you could change him or whatever. You were not one of those girls. You just...thought you’d be different. Special. Maybe you got a little caught up in that fairy tale bullshit sometimes. Like, maybe if you were the one who held his attention long enough, maybe he’d stop messing around and actually be serious.
Actually see you.
Spoiler alert: That’s not how it worked
You learned that real quick with Rafe.
It wasn’t even two months in before you found some girl's scrunchie in his Jeep.
You were leaving the club, both tipsy, and you slid into the passenger seat when you spotted it in the back. You know how girls leave stuff behind like it’s a game? Like it’s their way of marking territory? That scrunchie was practically a neon sign that read, "I was here."
You picked it up, twirled it around your finger, and waited for him to notice.
He didn’t.
“What's this?” You finally asked, not even looking at him, just staring at that stupid pink scrunchie like it had all the answers you needed.
Rafe glanced over at it for half a second before shrugging, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “Dunno. Probably Sarah’s.”
Sarah Cameron, his sister, the golden girl of the family. His excuse every time something came up.
“It’s not Sarah’s.” You weren't buying it. You knew that girl’s style inside and out, and there’s no way in hell she’d be caught dead wearing something this basic. You tossed it into the backseat, feeling your blood boil.
Of course he’d still treat you like shit, why care about a lifelong friendship, right?
Rafe rolled his eyes. He didn’t even have the decency to act like he cared that you were pissed.
“You’re being dramatic,” he said, his voice dripping with that condescension that always made you feel stupid for caring. “It’s just a fucking scrunchie.”
But it wasn’t. Not to you.
See, the thing with Rafe is, he never said he was yours. You never had some grand conversation about exclusivity, about titles, none of that. But that’s how it was with him. He’d show up at your door, flash that killer smile, and you’d forget every reason why he wasn’t good for you.
And yet, there was this constant feeling in your chest.
Tight, twisted, like a knot you couldn’t untangle.
It wasn’t just the girls or the scrunchies or the way he’d disappear for days, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and half-assed explanations. It was you. How you felt around him. You were constantly second-guessing yourself, wondering if you were enough, if you were what he wanted. Things were so different before.
If you were even on his radar when you weren't right in front of him. And that feeling, that deep, gnawing insecurity? It was starting to mess with your head.
A week after the scrunchie incident, you found yourself at another one of those parties on Figure Eight. The kind where we Kooks pretend we're so much better than everyone else but still drink cheap beer out of red solo cups. It was the usual crowd—Topper, Kelce, a few other guys you barely knew, and, of course, Rafe.
You were wearing this black mini dress you knew he liked, the one that hugged your body in all the right places. You wanted to feel good tonight, like you could make him see you the way you needed him to. It was pathetic, but you thought if you played your cards right, maybe you'd get more than just half-hearted attention.
But then, halfway through the night, you saw her.
This girl—some random pogue you'd never seen before—leaning against the bar, laughing at something Rafe was saying. And it wasn’t just that he was talking to her. No, it was the way he was looking at her. That look he used to give you when you first started whatever this was between you two.
Like she was the most interesting thing in the room. Like she was the only thing. Even if she was wearing that cheap, threadbare tank top and worn-out jean shorts. The kind of clothes that screamed she probably worked at some surf shop or waited tables just to get by. And here Rafe was, cozying up to her like she was something special. Like she wasn’t just another girl he’d forget about tomorrow. Making yourself compare to someone like her.
You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry, your palms sweaty as you watched them. You could feel your heart sinking, your gut screaming at you to just leave. But you didn’t. You just stood there, like an idiot, frozen in place, watching him slide his hand up the back of her arm, a move so smooth, so practiced, it made you feel sick.
You hated this. Hated yourself. Hated that you let him have this kind of power over you.
Your mind did that annoying thing where it flashed back to the first time you slept with him. Like it wanted to torture you with every little detail of how you got here. You’d both been drunk, of course. But not blackout drunk—just the kind of buzzed where everything feels a little too easy, a little too warm.
You’d known Rafe forever, been best friends since you were kids. He was practically a part of you, or at least, he used to be. You trusted him, which is why when he showed up at your place that night, laughing about something stupid, you didn’t think twice when he crashed on your couch.
Only he didn’t stay on the couch.
You remember how he looked at you from across the room, that cocky smile he always wore, but softer somehow. Like he wasn’t quite sure if he was going to make a move. He’d leaned in, brushed his hand against your leg—casual, but not really. Your heart had pounded in your chest, but you didn’t stop him.
You didn’t want to stop him.
And when he kissed you? You were done for. All those years of being “just friends” went right out the window. It was like all the tension between you, all the unspoken stuff, just exploded. You were in his lap before you even realized what was happening, tugging at his shirt, pulling him closer.
You told yourself it didn’t mean anything—that it was just this one-time thing, a moment of weakness.
But Rafe… he knew how to get to you.
He made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered, even though you weren’t. You were just there, convenient. But at the time? You didn’t see it like that. You thought maybe this would change everything. That maybe the Rafe you’d grown up with was still in there somewhere, buried under all the coke, the girls, the chaos.
You were wrong.
It hurt. It hurt like hell. And the worst part was, you couldn’t even blame the girl. She probably had no idea who Rafe really was. She just saw the guy with the money, the smile, the charm.
Your throat tightened as he leaned in, saying something that made her laugh again. That same laugh he’d once pulled out of you. God, how could you be so stupid? You knew what he was. Hell, you’d known for years. But still, you’d let yourself get wrapped up in him, like maybe you’d be the exception. Like maybe you’d matter.
But you didn’t. You were just another girl he’d sweet-talk, mess with, and then forget about the second something new and shiny came along.
Topper came up beside you, nudging you with his shoulder. “You good?”
You blinked, tearing your eyes away from the scene in front of you and forcing a smile. “Yeah, totally. Just need another drink.” Your voice was light, casual, but inside, you were falling apart.
He gave you a weird look, but shrugged it off.
Guess everyone knew how you felt about Rafe. You weren't exactly subtle about it.
You downed another vodka soda, the burn doing nothing to numb the ache in your chest, and made a beeline for the back of the house.
You needed air. You needed to breathe.
You barely made it past the kitchen before you felt someone grab your wrist, pulling you into the hallway. You turned, expecting it to be some random guy, but no—it was Rafe. His grip was tight, a little too tight, and you could see the annoyance in his eyes.
“You’re leaving already?”
Rafe’s grip on your wrist was too tight, but it wasn’t like that surprised you anymore. It was always like this with him—one second, things were fine, and the next, you were stuck in this same stupid cycle of feeling small and stupid for caring.
“I just need some air,” you muttered, trying to pull away, but of course, he didn’t let go. His eyes flicked across your face like he was trying to figure out if you were actually upset or just being “dramatic,” which, spoiler alert, you weren’t.
“You’re not seriously mad about that girl, right?” His voice dripped with amusement, like your feelings were some kind of joke to him. He leaned in, lowering his voice like that was supposed to make you feel better. “It’s not that deep.”
It's hard to remember this used to be your best friend, before you two started whatever this game was and he decided you just weren't that girl to him anymore, just another body he could call up when he needed to get laid.
You stared at him, mouth dry, trying to figure out why you were even still standing here.
“Really?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm in your voice. “Because it kinda feels like it is.” You finally yanked your wrist free, stepping back just enough to get some space. “Do you even care? Like, do you even care that you’re making me feel like this?” You hated how your voice cracked, how vulnerable you sounded.
“We’ve just having fun,” Rafe just stared at you like you were overreacting. “I don’t get what the big deal is. Why are you always making this such a thing?”
Fun. God, that word made your stomach turn.
Fun for who? You knew what he meant, but hearing it out loud still stung. You’d been holding onto this hope, this ridiculous idea that maybe you were different, maybe he cared more. But it was so clear now. This wasn’t a relationship. This wasn’t even close.
“It’s a thing because it is a thing,” you said, voice shaky but steady enough. “I can’t just turn off my feelings like you do, Rafe. I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt when I see you flirting with other girls like I don’t exist.”
He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “You’re making this complicated. I never said we were serious. You knew what this was from the start.”
And there it was.
The slap of reality you’d been avoiding for way too long. He never said you were his, never promised you anything more than what he gave—a few nights here and there, some attention when it was convenient for him, but nothing real.
And you knew that. But it didn’t stop you from wanting more.
“But you still keep me around, don’t you?” you said quietly, mostly talking to yourself at this point. “You keep me close when it’s easy, when it’s fun for you. And I let you.”
God, that hurt to admit out loud. You let him make you feel like this. Over and over.
Rafe just stood there, completely unfazed. Like this was no big deal. He shrugged, and it made you want to scream. “If you’re so unhappy, then just leave.”
You stared at him, feeling your heart twist in your chest. How did it always come back to this? Him pushing you away like you didn’t mean anything. Like you weren’t standing right here, hurting. You searched his face for something—anything—that showed he actually gave a damn.
But there was nothing.
“Yeah,” you whispered, throat tight. “Maybe I should.”
Rafe blinked, staring at you like you’d just told him the sky was green. The moment you said “maybe I should,” it was like the words didn’t even register with him. He let out this half-laugh, half-scoff, eyebrows raised. “Wait—what? You’re not actually serious right now.”
You just stood there, trying to hold onto the last shred of whatever self-respect you had left, but his reaction made you feel like you were the crazy one. Like you weren’t the one who’d been dragged through the emotional wringer for months.
“I’m serious,” you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible, but inside? You were shaking. “I’m done.”
He shook his head, like you were talking nonsense. “C’mon, stop. You always say shit like this when you’re mad. You’ll cool off in a couple hours. You’re just… overreacting. Again.”
That word—overreacting—was like gasoline on the fire burning inside you.
“I’m not overreacting. I’m tired.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the weight of all the times you’d let him off the hook. “I’m tired of feeling like an idiot every time I care about you. Every time I think we might actually be something.”
He took a step closer, and you could smell the beer and expensive cologne clinging to him. “We are something,” he said, his tone softening just enough to sound almost genuine, like he believed it. “We have fun. You’re acting like I’m out here trying to hurt you or somethin'.”
“You don’t think you’re hurting me because you never even think about me in the first place,” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You never even consider how any of this makes me feel, and that’s the problem. You don’t care.”
His jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t fight back like you half-expected him to. Instead, he just stared at you, confusion all over his face, like this was the first time he’d ever heard any of this.
“So what, you’re just gonna leave?” He asked it like it was the most ridiculous thing in the world. Like the concept of you actually walking away from him didn’t make any sense. “You’re not serious. You won’t actually leave.”
Your heart twisted at that—at how confident he was that you’d stay. That no matter how many times he messed up, no matter how many girls there were, or how many times he ghosted you, you’d always be right there, waiting. Because you always were. All your life.
He was so sure of it.
You felt your hands shake, and you hated that he still had that power over you. That even now, standing here in this stupid hallway at some stupid party, your heart was still fighting your brain, still wanting to hold onto him just a little bit longer.
But you couldn’t. Not anymore.
“Yeah, Rafe. I’m leaving.” The words came out firm, stronger than you even thought you were capable of right now. “I’m not playing this game with you anymore.”
For a second, something flickered in his eyes. Panic, maybe. Or maybe it was just the realization that he didn’t have you as locked down as he thought. “You’re really gonna walk away from this?” He gestured between the two of you, as if whatever this was had been so good, so untouchable. “Don’t be stupid.”
You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “You think I’m the one being stupid? You’ve taken me for granted this whole time, and I was dumb enough to let you."
He just stood there, silent, looking like he didn’t even know how to answer. Because he didn’t. He never actually thought you’d go. He never thought you’d call him on his shit and mean it.
But you did. And now he was realizing it.
Without waiting for him to say another word, you turned and walked away, feeling like you could finally breathe for the first time in a long time. 
You barely made it a few steps before you heard him call after you. “Wait, hold on!”
You kept walking, forcing yourself to put one foot in front of the other. You knew if you stopped, if you even looked back at him, you’d get sucked right back in. But of course, Rafe wasn’t going to let it go that easy.
“Wait!” His voice was closer now, and before you could pick up the pace, he grabbed your arm—not harshly this time, just enough to make you stop. “Come on, don’t just walk away.”
You sighed, shutting your eyes for a second before turning around. “What, Rafe? What do you want me to say?” You were so exhausted from this, from him, from the constant back and forth. “I’m not doing this anymore.”
He let go of your arm, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated but trying to rein it in. “Can we just… talk about this? You’re pissed right now, and I get it, but you can’t just leave like this.”
“I can leave,” you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “That’s literally what I’m doing."
He exhaled sharply, like he couldn’t believe this was happening. “You’re really just gonna throw everything away? After all this time?”
You stared at him, heart pounding in your chest. “What exactly am I throwing away? Huh? What have we even been lately? ’Cause from where I’m standing, all I’ve been doing is waiting around for you to decide if I’m worth more than just a random hookup whenever you feel like it.”
He winced at that, and for a second, you thought maybe—maybe—he’d get it. Maybe this would be the moment where he actually realized how badly he’d been screwing up. But instead, he went for the same excuse he always did.
“It’s not like that,” he said quickly, like that would erase everything. “You know I care about you, okay? We’ve known each other forever. You’re… important to me.”
“Important to you?” You laughed, but it wasn’t even close to funny. “If this is how you treat people who are ‘important’ to you, then I don’t even wanna know how you treat people who aren’t. Oh wait, I do know."
Rafe sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot, like he was trying to figure out the right thing to say. “Look, I know I’ve messed up. But…Can we just, like, think about it for a second? Talk about it?”
You shook your head, feeling the frustration build again. “What is there to talk about? You only wanna have this conversation now because I’m actually leaving. You never wanted to talk about it before.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but you cut him off. “No, Rafe. You think I haven’t tried to bring this up? Every time I tell you how I feel, you brush me off. I��ve been bending over backwards, trying to make this work, and all I’ve gotten in return is you treating me like I’m an afterthought.”
Rafe frowned, his jaw tightening. “That’s not true. I’m here now, aren’t I? I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Because I’m walking away,” you shot back. “That’s the only reason you care right now—because you don’t wanna lose control. That’s what this is really about, isn’t it? You never actually thought I’d leave.”
He didn’t say anything, which pretty much told you everything you needed to know.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “We used to be best friends. I knew you better than anyone, and you knew me. But I don’t even recognize you anymore. And honestly? I don’t recognize me when I’m around you either.” Your voice softened, "I deserve better than this. And you know it.”
For a second, he just stood there, looking at you like he was processing everything. His face wasn’t smug or arrogant anymore. He actually looked… lost. Maybe even scared. It was the first time you’d seen him drop the act in a long time, and for a split second, you felt that pull again—the one that always made you want to fix things, to make it better, to stay.
But you couldn’t do it this time. You couldn’t keep saving him at the expense of yourself.
“I don’t wanna lose you,” he finally said, his voice quieter, almost vulnerable. “You’re… you’re one of the only people who actually gets me. I don’t wanna lose that.”
That hit you right in the gut, because deep down, you didn’t wanna lose him either. He was right—you did know him better than anyone. But that didn’t change what he’d been putting you through. And just because he was scared of losing you didn’t mean he was ready to treat you the way you deserved to be treated.
“I don’t wanna lose you either,” you admitted, “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep being the girl you turn to when it’s convenient for you.”
He swallowed hard, eyes flicking down to the ground like he didn’t know what to say. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he was finally realizing how badly he’d screwed this up.
You sighed, stepping back. “Look, I hope you figure your shit out. I really do. But I’m not sticking around to wait for that.”
You’d barely taken two steps when you heard him again, this time his voice quieter, almost desperate. “Wait—please. Just… don’t go.”
You paused, but you didn’t turn around. You were trying so hard to keep it together, to not let him see how badly this was wrecking you. Then he dropped the bomb.
“You’re the only thing keeping me sober.”
Your breath caught in your throat. Slowly, you turned back around, eyes wide. “What?”
He looked at you like he was begging you to understand, to stay. “I’m serious. Since I stopped using…you’re the only thing that’s been helping me hold it together. You leaving—it’s gonna fuck me up. You know that.”
Your heart twisted, hard. Of course he’d pull this now. You stared at him, “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” 
“I’m not lying,” He insisted, taking a step closer. “I swear. I’m trying to do better. You’re the reason I haven’t gone back to that shit. You’ve always been the one to pull me out of it, and if you leave—”
“Stop,” you snapped, holding up a hand. “Do you even hear yourself right now? You’re really trying to put this on me?” Your voice was rising, and you didn’t even care if people inside the party heard you. “You’re trying to make me responsible for you staying clean? Do you realize how fucked up that is?”
Rafe flinched, his expression shifting from desperate to defensive. “I’m just saying it how it is. You’ve helped me more than anyone else. You know that.”
“No,” you shot back, shaking your head in disbelief. “I’m not doing this. I’m not carrying that weight for you. That’s not fair, and you know it.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but you weren’t done. “You can’t just dump your problems on me and expect me to fix them. I’m not your therapist, and I’m definitely not your savior.” Your chest was heaving now, all the anger and hurt that had been building up for months finally spilling over. “You don’t get to use your sobriety as a leash to keep me here.”
His face fell at that, and for a split second, you saw a flash of guilt. But it wasn’t enough. “I’m not trying to manipulate you,” he said, though even he sounded unsure of his words now. “I just… I don’t know what else to do.”
“You don’t know what to do because you’ve never had to actually deal with the consequences of your actions,” you fired back. “You’ve always just said whatever you needed to say to keep people around. To keep me around.”
Rafe looked at you like he wanted to fight back, but the fight wasn’t there. Not this time. “That’s not what this is,” he muttered, but it sounded weak even to him.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside you. “I’m glad you’re sober. I really am. But that’s not my responsibility. It never should’ve been.” You paused, feeling every word you were about to say. “If staying clean depends on me staying in your life, then you haven’t actually changed. You’ve just found a new addiction.”
He stared at you, and for the first time, he didn’t have a response. No cocky smirk, no empty promises. Just silence.
“I’m not gonna be your crutch anymore,” you said softly, the anger fading, replaced with a deep, painful sadness. “You need to get better for you, not for me. And if you can’t do that… then this was never gonna work anyway.”
Rafe’s shoulders slumped, and you could see the defeat in his eyes, like he was finally realizing that no matter what he said, this time you weren’t coming back.
“Please don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”
You blinked back the tears that were starting to sting your eyes. “You’ll figure it out."
His on his knees before you realized. Literally.
Your eyes widened in complete disbelief. “Rafe, what the hell are you doing?”
He wasn’t even looking at you anymore, just staring at the floor, hands running through his hair like he was about to lose it. “Please don’t leave. I’m begging you. I—I can’t… I don’t know what to do without you.”
You froze, staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind. Because maybe he had. What was this? You felt like you were watching some movie, except it was your life, and it wasn’t dramatic or romantic or whatever he thought it was. It was just… sad. And kind of terrifying.
“Get up.” Your voice wasn’t even loud—it was flat, emotionless. You didn’t even know what to feel anymore. “Rafe, seriously. Get the fuck up.”
He didn’t move.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice shaky. “I’m so fucking sorry. You’re all I’ve ever had, okay? Since we were kids, you’ve been the only person who’s ever stuck with me. Everyone else leaves. Everyone. But not you. You’ve always been there, no matter how much I’ve messed up.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut because, deep down, they were true. You had always been there. Through everything. The good, the bad, and the absolute worst. And maybe that’s why it hurt so damn much now—because he’d taken that loyalty, that friendship, and twisted it into something ugly and unrecognizable.
“I can’t believe this,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I seriously can’t believe you right now.” You shook your head, staring at him in disbelief. “You think this is gonna fix everything? You think getting on your knees and saying some bullshit is gonna make me forget all the times you hurt me?"
He looked up at you, his eyes glassy, and it almost made your heart break. Almost. But you weren't going to fall for it anymore. “I didn’t mean to take you for granted. I just—I never thought you’d actually leave. You never left before.”
“And that’s exactly why we’re here,” you snapped, “You always thought I’d stay, no matter how bad you treated me. You counted on it."
“I’m sorry,” he said again, voice cracking. “I know I fucked up. But I’ll do anything to fix it. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Please, just don’t go.”
You stared at him, the guy you’d known since forever, the one you’d stuck by when no one else did. The one you thought you could save, even though now you realized you couldn’t even save yourself when you were with him.
But this? Him on his knees? This wasn’t him fixing anything. This was him panicking, terrified that the one thing he’d taken for granted all these years was slipping away.
“I’m not the one who’s supposed to keep you alive. That’s on you. I’ve been there for you since we were six, and look where that’s gotten me. Look where that’s gotten us.”
His eyes were pleading, desperate, but you knew that if you stayed, this would keep happening. He would hurt you again, and you’d forgive him.
Because that’s what you did. That’s what you’d always done.
“I can’t keep being your safety net,” you whispered, feeling a lump rise in your throat. “You have to figure out who you are without me always picking up the pieces.”
He shook his head. “But I don’t know how.”
And that was the saddest part of all. He didn’t know how. He had no idea who he was without you constantly there to catch him when he fell. And you were tired of being the one holding him up while he pulled you down.
You took a deep breath, looking down at him—this broken, scared version of Rafe you never wanted to see.
“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, “but this? This isn’t love. This isn’t healthy. This is you being afraid of losing control. And I’m not gonna let you use me to keep your shit together anymore.”
His eyes filled with tears, and for a second, your heart ached. Because yeah, you loved him once. Maybe you still did in some messed-up way. But love wasn’t supposed to feel like drowning.
“I hope you get better,” you said, taking a step back. “I really do. But I can’t be a part of this anymore.”
And for the first time in your life, you were the one to walk away.
311 notes · View notes
urdreamydoodles · 2 days
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X-Men x Reader (Part.1)
You smacks their ass as they walk past (Part.1)
Each X-Man reacts with a mix of surprise and playful teasing when you smacks their ass as they walk past, leading to affectionate and mischievous moments.
Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Warren Worthington III, Bobby Drake, Alex Summers, Pietro Maximoff & Jean Grey
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Logan (Wolverine):
You’re in the kitchen, mindlessly going about your business, while Logan’s at the counter slicing through a loaf of bread. He’s focused, as usual, with that familiar scowl on his face that never quite leaves. The kitchen is quiet, just the hum of the fridge and the faint sounds of his knife slicing through the bread. You can’t help yourself—you watch him for a moment, admiring the way his muscles move under his tight shirt, the raw strength in every little motion. He looks so serious, so in his own world.
As you pass behind him, you smirk to yourself. It’s too tempting. Without thinking twice, you let your hand drift out, and with a sharp flick of your wrist, you smack his ass, enjoying the solid *thwack* that follows. You don’t stop, just continue walking like nothing happened, a satisfied smile curling on your lips.
Logan freezes mid-slice. For a beat, he doesn’t say a word. Then you hear the low rumble of a growl deep in his chest. “Really, darlin’?” His voice is thick, a little rough around the edges, and you can hear the amusement creeping in. He turns his head, one eyebrow raised, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You glance back at him, feigning innocence, but you can see the way his eyes darken just a bit. He drops the knife, turning slowly, taking a step toward you. His movements are deliberate, almost predatory. “You think you can just walk by like that and not face the consequences?” His voice is a low, gravelly whisper, sending shivers down your spine.
Before you can respond, Logan’s hand is on your waist, pulling you back against him. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath hot against your ear as he murmurs, “If you’re gonna start somethin’, sweetheart, you better be ready to finish it.” There’s a playful challenge in his voice, a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not about to let you off the hook that easily.
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Remy LeBeau (Gambit):
Remy is leaning against the couch, casually flipping through a deck of cards, as he often does when he’s bored. The two of you have been lounging around the living room all afternoon, and there’s an easy, comfortable silence between you. He’s dressed in that effortless way he always is—dark jeans that hug him in all the right places and a shirt that’s just tight enough to show off his lean muscles. He catches you looking at him, flashing you that mischievous smile, the one that makes your heart skip a beat.
You roll your eyes at him, but you’re already plotting something in your head. You stroll past him, heading toward the kitchen, but as you do, you let your hand dip down and smack his ass, hard enough to make him jump a little. You don’t stop, just keep walking like nothing happened, a satisfied smirk on your face.
“Mon dieu, cherie,” Remy’s voice comes out in a playful drawl, full of that Southern charm he’s famous for. He’s immediately on his feet, tossing the cards onto the couch and following you into the kitchen. “You really gonna hit an innocent man like dat and walk away?” You glance over your shoulder, and he’s grinning, his red-on-black eyes glowing with amusement.
Before you can get far, he’s behind you, his hands sliding around your waist, pulling you back against him. “Y’know, cher, dat’s gonna cost you somethin’,” he whispers, his lips brushing your ear. There’s a heat to his words, and you can feel the playful threat behind them. “You know what happens when you mess with de Ragin’ Cajun, right?”
He spins you around, pressing you up against the counter with that wicked grin still plastered on his face. His hands slide down your sides, landing right where you’d smacked him. “Might have t’ return de favor,” he purrs, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to your lips. “You know Remy always collects his dues, mon amour.”
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Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler):
You’re in the middle of tidying up the bedroom when you spot Kurt near the door, his back to you as he’s sorting through some papers. He’s muttering to himself in that soft, lilting German accent that you love so much, completely unaware of your eyes on him. His tail sways lazily behind him as he concentrates, and you can’t help but grin to yourself, an idea forming in your head.
You move silently, making your way over to him, and just as you pass by, you raise your hand and give his firm ass a playful smack. The sound is sharp in the quiet room, and you immediately keep walking, acting as if nothing had happened. But the reaction is instantaneous.
Kurt yelps in surprise, his tail flicking up and curling in the air as he turns to face you, a mix of shock and amusement on his face. “Liebling!” he exclaims, his yellow eyes wide with playful disbelief. “Did you just…?” His voice trails off as he stares at you, his mouth hanging open in mock offense.
You glance over your shoulder at him, feigning innocence. “What? I didn’t do anything,” you say with a smirk, knowing full well he doesn’t believe a word of it.
Before you can blink, there’s a familiar "bamf", and in an instant, Kurt’s teleported right in front of you, his arms wrapping around your waist as his tail curls mischievously around your leg. “Oh, so you think you can get away with that, meine Liebe?” he teases, his voice low and filled with amusement. “You know I won’t let that slide.”
His lips brush against your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he continues, “Perhaps you need a reminder of what happens when you provoke a demon.” The way he says it is both playful and sultry, sending a thrill down your spine. His tail tightens its grip on your leg, holding you in place as his hands move to your hips.
Kurt’s mischievous smile is contagious, and you can’t help but laugh as he presses a light kiss to your lips. “Next time, I might just have to teleport you somewhere… private,” he adds with a wink, his tail flicking playfully as he pulls you closer, the two of you lost in your little game.
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Scott Summers (Cyclops):
You’re sitting at the dining room table, flipping through some documents when Scott walks by with his usual purposeful stride. His posture is perfect, as always, and that stern expression he wears doesn’t falter. He’s got a natural air of authority, but you’ve seen the softer side of him that few others get to witness. As he walks past you, that teasing side of you sparks to life, and without warning, you reach out and give his ass a firm smack.
The sound echoes in the quiet room, and Scott stops dead in his tracks. For a moment, you think maybe you’ve startled him too much, but then he turns slowly, adjusting his visor in that way he does when he’s trying to keep control. “Really?” he asks, his voice calm but with a hint of amusement. “You’re feeling bold today, huh?”
You grin, leaning back in your chair as if daring him to react. “What? You can’t handle a little fun?” you tease, enjoying the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly.
Scott doesn’t let himself smile, but you can see the ghost of one tugging at his lips. He strides back toward you, placing his hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until his face is mere inches from yours. His eyes are hidden behind that visor, but you know that intense gaze is focused solely on you. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice low and authoritative, “I could make this a teaching moment if you keep testing me.”
There’s a flicker of challenge in his tone, and you can’t help but shiver at the way he’s so controlled yet playful all at once. “Maybe I want to be taught a lesson,” you reply cheekily, smirking up at him.
Scott’s lips quirk into a small smile at that, and he leans in even closer, his breath brushing your skin. “Don’t start something you’re not ready to finish,” he warns softly, his tone filled with promise. You know Scott is all about discipline and control, but with you, there’s always an undercurrent of heat simmering just beneath the surface. And right now, you’re enjoying pushing all his buttons.
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Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto):
You’ve just finished straightening up a few things around the living room when you notice Erik standing by the window, his arms crossed and his expression distant. He’s always deep in thought, his mind constantly working through plans, strategies, and the weight of his responsibilities. But in moments like these, you love pulling him out of that serious headspace, even if just for a second.
As you walk past him, you let your hand trail along his lower back before delivering a quick, playful smack to his ass. You know it’ll catch him off guard, and sure enough, Erik’s head turns sharply toward you, a mixture of surprise and amusement flashing in his steely gaze. “Liebling,” he says slowly, his deep voice laced with a dark chuckle, “I hope you realize what you’ve just done.”
You meet his gaze with a mischievous smile, shrugging casually. “What? Can’t a person have a little fun?”
Erik narrows his eyes, though you can see the faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He steps toward you, his movements smooth and deliberate, until he’s standing directly in front of you, his towering presence almost intimidating. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warns, his voice low and dripping with intent.
His fingers reach out, brushing against your arm with a feather-light touch before sliding to your waist. “You should know better than to provoke me,” he continues, his tone growing softer, more menacing in a way that sends a thrill down your spine. There’s always something about Erik’s raw power that makes moments like these feel electric, like you’re on the verge of something intense.
You raise an eyebrow at him, refusing to back down. “Maybe I like living dangerously.”
Erik’s smirk widens, and without warning, he pulls you closer, his hand firm on your waist. “Careful, Liebling,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Next time, I might not be so gentle.” His eyes gleam with the promise of something more, and you can’t help but smile, knowing that with Erik, every moment is charged with tension and passion.
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Warren Worthington III (Angel):
Warren is pacing around the room, his wings fluttering slightly as he moves. He always gets restless like this, especially after long missions, and you can see the tension in his shoulders. His wings, magnificent as ever, brush against the walls with each step, and you can’t help but admire the effortless grace he carries with him.
You decide to lighten the mood, and as you walk by, you reach out and give his ass a playful smack. It’s quick, unexpected, and you’re already a few steps ahead by the time Warren stops and turns to look at you, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really, Y/N?” he says, a soft laugh escaping his lips. There’s a twinkle in his blue eyes, the corners of his mouth lifting into that charming smile you know so well.
“What?” you reply innocently, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Just wanted to see if you’d notice.”
Warren chuckles, shaking his head as he folds his wings neatly behind him and strides over to you. “Oh, I noticed,” he says, his voice smooth and playful, like silk brushing against your skin. He steps closer, his hand slipping around your waist, pulling you back toward him. “You’re lucky I find it cute when you get cheeky.”
You grin up at him, but before you can say anything, Warren’s lips are by your ear, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But you should know… you’ve got my full attention now.” There’s a teasing edge to his words, and you can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, his wings subtly enclosing around you, as if shielding the two of you from the world.
His fingers glide down your back, lingering just above where your hand had landed on him. “You know,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck, “if you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.” His lips brush the shell of your ear, and you can feel the playful energy between you shift into something deeper, more intimate. Warren always knows how to turn a simple moment into something unforgettable, and as his wings wrap around you, you know you’re in for more than just playful teasing tonight.
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Bobby Drake (Iceman):
You’re standing by the counter, organizing some groceries while Bobby flips through a magazine at the kitchen table. His legs are kicked up, as casual as ever, when you pass by. Feeling playful, you give his ass a swift smack as you move past him. The sound echoes in the small space, and it’s enough to catch his attention immediately.
Bobby jerks, almost spilling his drink in surprise, before whipping around to face you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed from both the slap and embarrassment. “Woah! Y/N, what was that for?” he asks, though there’s no hiding the grin pulling at his lips.
You shrug, flashing him an innocent look. “Just making sure you’re awake.”
He laughs, shaking his head as he stands up, crossing the room to stand next to you. “Oh, I’m awake now, alright,” he teases, sliding his arms around your waist, his touch cool against your skin. “I didn’t know you had it in you to get so… bold.”
His playful tone matches the mischievous glint in his eyes, and you can’t help but laugh along with him. “What? You can’t handle a little fun?” you challenge, enjoying the light banter between you two.
Bobby leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “I can handle anything you throw at me, but don’t think I’ll let you get away with that.” His voice is laced with a teasing edge, and you feel a cool breeze sweep through the room, a subtle reminder of the icy powers he wields. You know he’s up to something, but before you can react, he presses a quick kiss to your neck and steps back with a wink. “You’re gonna pay for that, you know.”
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Alex Summers (Havok):
Alex is sprawled out on the couch, looking through some reports when you walk by. His feet are up, and there’s a focused look on his face, the kind he always wears when he’s trying to deal with the endless responsibilities of being an X-Man. You take the opportunity as you pass, leaning over to give his ass a firm smack, catching him completely off guard.
Alex sits up instantly, his eyes narrowing playfully as he turns to you. “Did you just…?” he starts, not quite believing what just happened. He’s still processing it, a mix of amusement and shock spreading across his face.
You grin, crossing your arms as you raise an eyebrow. “What? Just thought I’d remind you who’s boss around here,” you tease, knowing it’ll get a rise out of him.
Alex chuckles, shaking his head as he stands up, his presence commanding yet relaxed. “Oh, is that right?” he asks, his voice low, a hint of mischief lacing his words. He walks toward you, closing the space between you quickly. “Well, I think you’re about to find out that I don’t take orders so easily.”
His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him. You can feel the heat radiating off his skin, his energy always simmering just beneath the surface. “You like playing with fire, huh?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Careful, Y/N… you might just get burned.”
The tension between you sizzles, and there’s a playful challenge in his eyes as he leans in closer. Alex has always had that perfect balance of power and charm, and moments like this remind you just how intoxicating he can be.
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Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver):
Pietro is a blur of motion, zipping around the room as he organizes everything at lightning speed. You’ve gotten used to his constant fast-paced movements, but that doesn’t stop you from messing with him whenever you get the chance. As he darts past you, you reach out, timing it perfectly to give his ass a swift smack.
In a flash, Pietro skids to a halt, spinning around to face you, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and excitement. “Did you just smack me?” he asks, his voice incredulous but laced with laughter. “I didn’t even see that coming!”
You grin, leaning against the counter as you shrug casually. “Maybe you’re losing your touch, Speedy.”
Pietro narrows his eyes playfully, zipping right in front of you in the blink of an eye. He’s so close, you can feel the rush of air from his speed. “Losing my touch? Oh, you’re in for it now,” he teases, his lips curling into that trademark smirk that always makes your heart race.
Before you can respond, he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “You’re lucky I find this little game of yours amusing,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. “But don’t think for a second I won’t get you back. Faster than you can blink.”
Pietro’s hand slides down your side, and you can feel the energy buzzing off him, the tension between you electric. His eyes gleam with mischief as he tilts his head slightly. “Next time you try that, you better be ready to run,” he warns, but there’s no real danger in his tone—only the promise of more playful banter to come.
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Jean Grey:
Jean is standing at the stove, her mind likely a million miles away as she stirs something in the pot. You’ve always loved watching her in these quiet moments, the way her hair seems to glow in the soft light, her expression so calm and serene. As you walk by, you decide to playfully break the stillness and give her a quick, teasing smack on the ass.
Jean gasps in surprise, her stirring hand freezing mid-motion as she looks over her shoulder at you, eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. “Y/N!” she exclaims, her voice half-laughing, half-scolding. You can see the blush rising on her cheeks, and it only makes your grin widen.
“What?” you reply innocently, trying your best to look like you didn’t just commit the playful act. “I couldn’t resist.”
Jean sets the spoon down and turns fully toward you, hands on her hips, but there’s a sparkle in her eyes. “You’re trouble, you know that?” she says, though the smile tugging at her lips betrays any attempt at a stern tone.
Before you can respond, you feel a subtle tug in your mind—Jean’s way of playfully reminding you she’s always got the upper hand when it comes to your little games. She steps closer, her fingers brushing lightly against your arm. “You know I could have you pinned with a single thought,” she teases, her voice soft yet teasing. “But I think I’ll let you off the hook this time… unless you want me to show you what happens when you mess with a telepath.”
You raise an eyebrow, feeling the warmth of her body as she presses closer, her lips ghosting over your ear. “Think you’re fast enough to get away next time?” she whispers, her breath hot against your skin, leaving you anticipating her next move.
254 notes · View notes
ddodol · 2 days
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acting up — j.sc
one shot ⭑.ᐟ synopsis ⭑.ᐟ date nights with sungchan are always fun when there's a bit of mischief. content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, bf!sungchan, brat fem!reader, petnames, spanking, overstimulation, creampie, slight exhibitionism mentions, sungchan is a bit mean but we all love that for him <3. word count⭑.ᐟ 3.7k+
a/n; belated happy birthday sungchan
⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
you were feeling particularly evil tonight.
you and sungchan agreed on a little date, nothing too fancy but you decided that you wanted to dress up. you giggle as you twirl around in front of your mirror, satisfied with the way the tight dress hugged your body. sungchan would love seeing you like this, perhaps a bit too much.
it didn’t take long for sungchan to knock at your door, the poor boy still clueless about the thoughts running through your pretty little head. you try to maintain the mischievous grin you have on your face, fixing up your make up one last time before running to the front door. you take a deep breath, already prepared to act all innocent.
as soon as the door opened, sungchan only had a second to react, face already dropping at the mere sight of you. the white silk dress hugged your curves in all the right places. it barely covered anything— not your chest nor your back. you were all exposed for him.
sungchan swallowed thickly, taking you all in. you were just too inviting that he’s starting to think that the dinner date was just a ruse.
”fuck,” he whispered, hand gripping tightly on the pretty bouquet he took the time choosing.
you smile at him, happily taking the bouquet from his hands before he snaps them in half. “wanna come in for a bit? i’m still not done getting ready.” that was funny because sungchan already thought you were a fucking goddess.
like you predicted, sungchan hovered around you, watching you intently as you brush absolutely nothing on your face. you were trying so hard not to laugh, shoulders trembling slightly as you apply lip gloss for the second time. you could see sungchan through your mirror, eyes fixated on your ass.
nothing could go wrong with a little show, right?
”oh, fuck,” you mutter softly, accidentally dropping your lipstick on the ground. it didn’t drop too far so all you had to do was bend over and pick it up, it was so simple. you could hear sungchan groaning from behind you, his pretty face all troubled as he watched your every move.
satisfied and with your lipstick in hand, you continue with your routine. you were so sure sungchan would be patient throughout your dinner date, and that you’d get the best night of your life later. though that didn’t mean sungchan would share the same sentiment.
”princess, is it fun?” you jump up when you heard sungchan’s voice from behind you, body already trembling in response. oh, you wanted him so bad. he looked gorgeous tonight with his hair slicked back; you just wanted to sit on his lap and mess it all up.
sungchan was right behind you, eyeing you through the mirror. you smelled so sweet and tempting, your scent filling his senses as he pressed you against the bathroom counter. sungchan let out a small groan, bulge pressing against your plush ass.
”is fucking with me that fun, baby?” you gasp softly, feeling sungchan’s warm hands on your waist. he looked at you through the mirror, jaws clenching as he leaned down to whisper to your ear. “do you want to get fucked that badly?” you shuddered, legs already trembling at how good he sounded when he’s all pissed.
you tried to feign innocence, smiling at him, “what do you mean?”
you were so sure sungchan snapped right then and there. he grabbed your ass, slipping his hands underneath the little dress you had on. the more he moved his fingers around your skin the more he noticed that something was missing, he looked down, pushing your dress up to see that you weren’t wearing panties.
you bite your lip at the prolonged silence, already feeling like you were in danger. “c-channie?”
sungchan frowns at you, bringing his hand up before landing it on your ass, the loud slap echoing throughout your bathroom. you managed to catch yourself in time, covering your mouth before you cried out.
”channie, wait!”
he shakes his head, already in the process of unbuckling his belt. “baby, if you’re gonna act up like this, you should deal with the consequences,” you bite your lip, feeling his heavy, throbbing cock against your ass.
you didn’t want to fight back, already just as needy even though you were the one that did the teasing. sungchan seems to have caught on to this though, deciding that he’d take his time for you— it’s only fair after all. “princess,” he whispered, voice all gentle again.
”y-yeah?” you whimper out pathetically, huge eyes staring at him in anticipation.
“your tits are spilling out of your dress, did you plan on going out like this?” you gasp softly, feeling his hands pressing on your breasts, not taking much for them to pop out of your dress. sungchan chuckles, licking his lips as you moan over him fondling your tits.
”feeling good already?” he asked teasingly, pulling on your nipples, “that’s not good, this is meant to be punishment.” you cry out, nipples already feeling sore from having them pulled and squeezed roughly. sungchan slapped them lightly, smiling at how they’d bounce around. you choked out a cry, leaning forward as your legs were about to give in.
sungchan leaned against your neck, leaving a small kiss, “what if i just took you here? it’ll be easier to clean up, right? it'll be better than fucking you at the restaurant, no?” you shuddered, body already heating up at the mere thought.
“please,” you whined, pushing your dress up even more to reveal your ass properly.
he smiled deviously, “fuck yourself on me, princess.”
you stared at sungchan through the mirror, head feeling light at the smile on his face. sungchan was always so good to you, prioritizing your needs over his and that also applied to the bedroom. you should know better than to piss him off but you just can’t help it, he always reacts so well.
you’ve only ever pissed sungchan off once before, unintentionally, and you found yourself pinned against a wall at some public bathroom, completely overstimulated and sensitive as he thrusted you onto his cock. you always think back to that moment, wondering what else would mess him up enough to do that to you again.
now that you’ve had your answer, you couldn’t stop trembling in excitement, walls already clenching as you push your ass against his cock. “channie,” you whine, gasping softly when you felt his hand grabbing your ass. sungchan spanked your ass once more, making you cry out weakly.
”if you’re good, i’ll fuck you as much as you want later.” you bit your lip, shaky hand reaching back to hold his cock, guiding it against your entrance. you let out a purr, loving how stretched you were feeling, walls fluttering around sungchan’s cock.
“god, so tight, princess,” sungchan groaned, gripping on your ass as you slowly sink yourself against his cock. he spread your cheeks apart, drawing out a moan as you swallow him inside.
you began to move slowly, moans dragging out with each movement. fucking yourself on sungchan made your head spin, ass bouncing against his hips. he stood still, chuckling at how you moved clumsily on his cock.
“you know that’s not how i fuck you, princess. fuck me like you mean it,” he leaned in to whisper against your ear, leaving you whimpering at how deep he was reaching in that position.
”i can’t do it, sungchan,” you whined, “i want it deeper!”
sungchan laughs at your pathetic whining, giving your ass a small slap, “try harder, princess.” you cried out, legs trembling as you continued to move your hips clumsily. it wasn't the ideal position to be fucking yourself on his cock, not when you wanted him deeper.
“sungchan, please,” you whined once more, walls fluttering around his cock in a last ditch effort to convince him.
sungchan leaned in, pressing your body down the counter and caging you in between his arms. “move and be a good girl for me,” you whimpered when he growled against your ear, eliciting a small chuckle from him when your walls clenched.
“move for me, baby. show me how much you want it,” he whispered, urging you even more as he nibbled on your ear.
you tried your best, whimpering with every thrust. there wasn’t much you could do except grind on his cock now that sungchan left no space between the two of you.
your walls kept clenching down on him, finding a way to pleasure yourself without having to move. you rolled your hips against his, moaning softly as your arousal pooled in your stomach. you could still feel him deep inside, whimpering at how his tip kept rubbing on your sweet spots whenever you’d grind down on him.
”please, please, please—” you kept murmuring over and over, voice getting higher and whinier as you trembled. soon enough, you came on his cock, strangling out a quiet cry as you pressed your body against the counter.
“fuck, are you serious?” sungchan mumbled, growling against your ear when your walls clenched down on him. “did you just cum, princess?” you rested your head against the counter, shoulders heaving as you quiver from your climax. it wasn’t exactly a satisfying release but it was all you could manage.
sungchan was amused for a split second but he immediately masked it with a stern expression. ”you’d really rather cum like this instead of admitting that you did something bad?” he whispered against your ear before pressing hot kisses down your neck. you felt your body heating up once more, whining as you grind your hips on his.
”i didn’t,” you whined, “i didn’t do anything bad. you like it anyway.” sungchan couldn’t help but laugh, his touch finally becoming gentler. he massaged your ass, soothing the red marks he left on you earlier.
”i know, i love it a lot,” he smiled, kissing your jaw affectionately. no matter how much you acted up, sungchan was always so forgiving of you and you were sure tonight wouldn’t be any different. “that dinner date’s still on the table though, i went through hell to get that reservation.” you chuckled weakly, turning your head to glance at him.
he leaned back to pull his cock out slowly, leaving you to think that you two were done for now. sungchan stared down at where you two were connected, watching his cock slip out of you, his length completely soaked in your juices.
you unwittingly pushed yourself off the counter, fixing your dress up as he pulled out. you could feel his tip almost slipping out, only to be taken by surprise when he plunged deep inside without warning. a choked cry left your swollen lips, legs trembling from the sudden stimulation. you almost came. one thrust from sungchan almost made you came and it drove you crazy.
”sungchan, baby, please,” you whimpered, gripping on the edge of the counter as you looked at him through the mirror. you were a complete mess at this point, your perfect appearance from earlier now flushed and smudged.
sungchan tutted at your complaints, pulling out once more before slamming back inside, pushing you forward at the impact. he could feel your walls convulsing around his cock, grinning at how easy it was to please you. he repeated the motion a few more times until you were trembling uncontrollably, smiling in satisfaction.
”you know, princess,” he leaned in, pushing deep inside you as he does, “i know exactly what you’re trying to do.” you shuddered, biting back your noises as he thrusted shallowly, penetrating your deepest walls. sungchan catching on only meant that it’s going to be more torturous for you.
”come on, i wanna see how ruined i could get you before our date,” sungchan smiled at you, eyes glinting deviously as he stared back at your reflection. you gasped softly, already bracing yourself for what’s next.
”w-wait! we only have thirty minutes left! the drive is—” you almost bit your tongue from how hard he pounded into you. your body was pressed against the now warm marble counter, arousal dripping down your leg.
the sound of wet noises and skin slapping echoed in your bathroom, slowly driving you to the brink of insanity. “s-sungchan! i’m sorry! i wasn’t— i just wanted to mess with you!” you rambled on, breathing heavily.
sungchan chuckled, tongue poking his cheek as he watched your ruined reflection. he reached forward to hold your face still as he continued his brutal pace. forced you to look at yourself in the mirror, whimpering as your walls clenched down on him.
“you look so pretty when you’re all flushed like this,” he smiled, pressing soft kisses on your shoulder. ”give me more, princess. i know you can make prettier noises than this.”
you let out a yelp when he spanked your ass once again, mind going blank when you felt his cock kissing your deepest spot. “let go, princess— give me what i want,” sungchan whispered, his deep voice echoing in your spinning mind.
your legs were trembling, feet barely touching the ground as sungchan kept pounding into you, driving you up the counter with each frantic thrust. you cried his name out loud, whimpering apologies as he continued to spank your ass.
”that’s it, baby. i got you,” sungchan cooed, smiling against your skin. he placed soft kisses all over your shoulder, a huge contrast to the way he was fucking you. he held your waist, keeping you up while his other hand snaked up to play with your tits.
the sound of your moans echoed throughout the bathroom. the addicting noises you were making was slowly getting to him, sungchan’s soft features contorting in pleasure as you clenched down on his throbbing length. he could tell that you were close with the way your body was tensing up and from your ragged breathing, your sweet voice was also starting to get whinier— every single detail about you was filling up his senses and it drove him insane.
”sungchan, i’m so close. fuck— please, channie,” you whimpered, afraid that he’d impulsively deny you your orgasm considering how differently he was acting all night.
he pressed kisses down your nape, hands gently massaging your waist as he plunged deep inside, hot breath fanning over your skin. “don’t worry, just trust me and let go, princess.”
you closed your eyes shut, body tensing up as your orgasm washed over you in waves, walls spasming around his cock. sungchan held you close, thrusting gently as you rode out your high. he winced at how tight you were, pressing his body on top of yours as you breathed softly.
”just a bit more, okay?” sungchan panted, hips starting to move once more. you whined loudly, clawing on his hand as he cupped your tits, fondling them gently. he moaned against your ear, mumbling apologies when you begin to cry out from oversensitivity.
”sungchan,” you cried, feeling like an overstimulated mess. sungchan gripped on your thigh, lifting it up against the edge of the counter as he continued to pound into you.
he kept pressing soft kisses against your neck, whispering praises at how good you were for him, all for him— his words always made you feel like a puddle, laying your body against the counter and taking it all to satisfy him. “that’s it, princess. you feel so fucking good right now,” he breathed out, hips stuttering from how close he was.
sungchan held you even tighter, leaving marks on your skin. “i’m close, princess,” he groaned, “take it all, yeah? every single drop, like the good girl you are.”
you whimpered in response, head spinning from oversensitivity, slick walls milking his cock with each thrust, curses kept rolling off his tongue. he buried his face against your neck, taking a deep breath of your sweet perfume as he thrusted deep inside one last time. sungchan shot out thick ropes of his cum, coating your walls as he crashed down on your back.
the two of you were shuddering from your release, panting heavily. sungchan kissed your skin languidly, dragging his plump lips around. he whispered quiet praises against your skin, smiling at the goosebumps that popped up right after.
”you’re so adorable,” he mumbled, patting your head fondly. sungchan pulled away from you, helping you get up from the counter.
you could barely stand, let alone walk, shooting a pitiful glance at sungchan. he just chuckled, continuing to help you fix up your dress. satisfied, he smiled at your reflection through the mirror, “there we go.”
sungchan held your waist, pulling you close, “we have time left, right?” he teasingly drew small circles on your back, enjoying the way you’d flinch and try to squirm away from his grasp.
”i can’t go out like this, channie,” you admitted, pouting at him. before you even knew it, sungchan had guided you outside, ignoring your protests as he helped you get settled inside his car. once he got inside, he smiled at you, one filled with mischief.
”you wanted to act up before our date, i’m just giving you what you would've gotten.” you frowned at him, watching as he happily started the engine.
this date was about to be uncomfortable— his cum still inside you, no panties, legs weak and skin flushed. sungchan glanced at you, chuckling at your state.
he leaned in for a brief second, brushing a small kiss against your cheek. “i keep telling you, princess— if you’re good, i’ll treat you well.”
you pouted, crossing your arms as you looked out the window. you knew these were the consequences of your own actions but you hated how things didn't go as you planned. you were fully prepared to just call it and lay down on your bed, but this was a date that you also looked forward to having.
sungchan couldn’t help but laugh at how you were sulking on the side, pulling up soon as you arrived at your destination. you were relieved to see that there weren’t much people tonight, legs still feeling like jelly, trembling even while you sat down.
like the gentleman he always is, sungchan opened the car door for you, holding out a hand for you to hold on to. you happily took his hand, gripping on it to support yourself up. he smiled, quickly wrapping an arm around you and sneaking a small kiss on your temple.
his lips lingered on your skin for some time before slowly trailing down to graze your red ears, “i promise you we’ll be quick this time.”
you snapped your head towards him, eyes wide and cheeks flushed when you got what he was implying. sungchan just smiled, giving your ass a quick squeeze before leading you towards the bathroom.
needless to say, you now know better than to intentionally mess with sungchan— not when he made you sit down for your dinner date like normal, as if his cum wasn’t dripping down your legs as you dined.
you glanced at him curiously, his lips were swollen and red with your lipstick staining it. sungchan's skin was glowing radiantly, as if he was announcing your little bathroom affair from earlier to everyone in the room. you cleared your throat, embarrassment washing over you.
he noticed the look on your face, grinning mischievously. “what? got something on my face?” you rolled your eyes, prompting a small bout of laughter from him. he looked over your features once more, eyes filled with fondness as he settled down.
”i feel like i haven’t said it enough but i think you look absolutely breathtaking tonight.” you blushed at the compliment, putting all your focus on the plate in front of you because of how flustered you were feeling.
”don’t worry, i know. i could tell from all of that,” you coughed softly, almost choking on your food as sungchan laughed once again.
having his eyes on you, especially after being intimate, always made you shy. sungchan has always been expressive, you could tell what he’s thinking even if he doesn’t vocalize it— which he still does anyway just to rub it in.
sungchan chuckled again, taking in your figure in that pretty silk dress you wore for him. it was regrettable that he couldn’t help himself from leaving marks all over your shoulders and back, since now you were all covered up with his white blazer. he tilted his head, trying to take a peek at the small red mark he left on the side of your neck, smiling mischievously at how pretty it looked on you.
”sungchan,” you raised a brow, staring at him weirdly. he just smiled sheepishly before sitting up straight.
it was silent for a few minutes, sungchan let you finish your food before speaking up once again. as soon as you set your utensils down, he leaned in, “i wonder if people are staring at me or if it’s because of that mark i just left on your neck.”
you quickly covered yourself up with his blazer, staring back at him wide wide eyes and flushed cheeks. sungchan laughed softly, reaching out to hold your hand.
”that’s not fair, princess,” he smiled teasingly, bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles, “if you keep acting this adorable, i’d want to punish you even more like earlier.”
you shuddered, shaking your head frantically.
an impulsive little prank shouldn’t become your norm, you refused to. sungchan just chuckles against your hand, pressing a soft kiss on your wrist. “mm, maybe not, then,” he smiles at you, rubbing his swollen lips against your skin.
”you know you’re the one that set this kind of mood up for tonight, right?” you pouted. you knew he was right, and that annoyed you. it wasn’t like you regretted doing what you did— in fact, you were glad you did, enjoying the reaction you managed to draw out of him.
you traced small circles on his hand, glancing at him as an idea formulated in your pretty little head. sungchan seems to have caught on as well, grinning widely as he waited for you to speak.
"channie," you purred, "wanna grab the tab and just get out of here?"
sungchan laughs at your proposal, bringing your hand up to press another kiss on it, "i thought you'd make me wait another hour, princess."
"and maybe, just maybe— you can have what you had in mind earlier, yeah? before i ruined it," he suggests, eyes filled with mischief as shivers ran down your spine.
you knew tonight wasn't going to be easy for your poor body, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
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luveline · 14 hours
Note
Hi!!
Could a please request Peter Parker x reader where they’ve been together for a while and discuss family planning? Like they want to start a family together but both have anxieties for different reasons with Peter being Spider-Man and just general nerves at this being a big step and they comfort one another?
If you get round to this then thank you!!!
thank you for requesting! fem, 1k
“But you’re Spider-Man.” 
Peter doesn’t know how you ended up like this, his face at your feet, his feet past your head in his pillows. Your toes wiggle in your socks unthinkingly. 
“I’m Spider-Man.” 
“How are we s’posed to have a baby if you’re a superhero?” 
You ask it without malice; you aren’t telling him to do one thing or another, you’re just posing a simple question. Or, not so simple. Thinking about it provokes a hundred different questions, and he gets your point. How can he be a father if he’s a superhero, half the time? How can he expect you to sign on to motherhood while he risks his life? 
He has to prove that he can do it without getting hurt. Without getting anyone hurt. 
“I’ve been Spider-Man for a long time,” he says softly. 
You pretend to drop your foot on his face. He laughs and curls into you, an arm around your leg like a wonky cuddle. “And it gets more dangerous every year.” 
“I would… being Spider-Man is…” Peter noses at your leg. Your pyjama pants are hiked up near your knee, leaving a calf open for his mouth to brush against. “I’m Spider-Man,” he says again. That’s the simplest explanation. He just is Spider-Man. “But I would change things. I already have, I mean, I have you to think about now.” 
“I just don’t know if I’d be okay with having a baby, if you might die.” 
Peter sits up. He frowns. “I’m not going to die.” 
You just nibble your lip. 
“Is that something you worry about?” 
You sit up to meet him. “Of course I do.” 
He’s thankful you’re close. He takes your hand, turning your wedding ring to see the stone laid at the apex. You used to worry so much it would make you sick, and he changed to make that easier on you, because he loves you. What was the point in getting married if he was gonna leave you in agony every time he left the house? Newspapers scorned a more careful Spider-Man, and Peter has had to make some hard calls. He can’t be selfless anymore —he thinks about you every time he throws a new web. 
He didn’t realise you were still worried. “When was the last time I got hurt?” 
“Last night.” 
He winces. “Alright, when was the last time I got hurt enough to need medical attention?”
“Last Tuesday.” 
“Bub, that was one finger, it healed in two hours.” 
“But if you were a normal guy, it would’ve been weeks.” You aren’t out to torture him, or argue, your lips puckered for a quick kiss as he pulls you toward him. “I’m just saying,” you murmur, tapping his nose, your eyebrow pressed against his, “if you want a baby with me? You’re gonna have to give up even more. Okay?” 
“Okay,” he says immediately. 
Okay. Because he’s Spider-Man, and it means everything to him, but he’s your husband. This is your life together. 
“I want a baby with you,” he says, a murmur to match your own as his hands wrap around your waist. He drags you forward, your faces still smushed together. “I want kids, and you want them too, and I want you to have everything. So if you need me to change, I can change. I can’t stop, but I can make it work.” 
“You’d have to stop sometimes–”
He leans away and cups your shoulder. “I know. I’m not gonna get you pregnant and go out every night.” 
“Just every other.” 
“No, no,” he insists softly. “Bub, listen to me. If you’re ready, then I’m ready. No messing around. I’m your partner, right? I’m your husband before I’m Spider-Man.” 
“Are you sure?” you ask. 
Peter’s not mad, but he’s a little upset you’d think so. He’s not trying to make you feel this way. He wants you to have total confidence in him, and your potential future family.
“You need me to tell you that? I’ve never been more sure about anything.” 
He doesn’t need you to agree to a baby tonight or anything, he just wants you to be happy with him. So he tells you emphatically that you’re his world. You already know why he’s Spider-Man, the responsibility that drives him, but there’s responsibility in being with you and making you happy. At the end of the day, you come first. He wishes you knew that, but he doesn’t mind telling you. 
It’s a little later with his arms around you, right side up this time, that he confesses, “I don’t even know if I’d be a good dad.” 
You aren’t worried. “That’s silly. As long as you don’t get killed by a giant radioactive reptile, you’ll be amazing.”
“How do you know?” 
“Same way you know I’ll be a good mom.” 
“You will be.”
You kiss his neck. “I knew you’d say that. I don’t know if I’ll be a good mom, I just know you believe in me.” 
“I do.”
“You’ll be a good dad,” you further, pressed as far into his neck as you can be, lavished by his hands running up and down your back. “I know parenting is a lot of things, but I really think it’s the same as being a good boyfriend. You’re kind. You’re so patient. You’re funny. I can’t wait to have a little baby that looks like you n…” You sigh. He loves that touch of wistfulness behind it. “I can’t wait to be a family with you.” 
“Are you tired?” he asks. 
You mumble. “Mm. Just a bit.” 
He strokes your neck. “I can’t wait to be a family, either… maybe it can wait until tomorrow, though.” 
You smile into his jaw, dragging yourself up to kiss his cheek. “Love you, Peter Parker.” 
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We ain’t angry at you, love
Katie McCabe x teen!reader
trigger warnings: mentions of suicide, hospitals, grief, overall bad mental health, please don’t read if you’re not in the correct headspace 🫶
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you didn’t realise it had gotten this bad, or maybe you did and you weren’t ready to admit it.
there was something about admitting how bad things had gotten that scared you, talking about your feelings, admitting that you needed help was beyond scary.
you couldn’t tell your mam how much you were struggling, couldn’t verbalise just how much you were hurting, you didn’t want to hurt her, make her realise that despite everything she couldn’t make you better, couldn’t heal your past.
you were broken beyond repair, everything about you was entirely broken, from your head to your toes, your heart to your brain, it was all broken, your life was a mess, that only seemed to get worse and worse the more life went on.
you were only young, sixteen to be precise and yet you’d been through more than most people would in their lifetime, but your man had saved you, stopped you from drowning when you were twelve years old, she gave you a home, somewhere to feel safe, loved and cared for, you thought that feeling would last forever, that the love your mam gave you would be enough. Stop you from crumbling to your PTSD, you thought that every happy memory your mam gave you would replace every bad one, and it did for awhile at least, everything was okay, you were happy, until you weren’t.
until you started playing for Arsenal, until the hate began and undone everything you had tried your best to patch up, until the flashbacks came back and the anxiety consumed you again.
maybe you were destined for this life, this never ending cycle of pain and heartbreak.
This cycle of finally feeling better, like you wanted to live, wanted to be happy, and then the inevitable would happen, you’d crash, and the feelings would come back. Each time they did, you felt a piece of you break, another piece of you unraveling, until you were all unraveled, consumed by the weight of your mind. the tumbleweed mess of your past taking over.
it was what led you here, alone in your bathroom crouched over the sink, throwing the contents of your stomach out, bleeding out all over the once shiny white tiles.
your wrists were burning now, your scarlett blood was dripping down the bathrooms bright white tiles, you can still remember picking out those tiles with your mam, you were 13 and the bathroom was being renovated, katie let you pick out the tiles, you had spent hours deciding what ones to get, what the perfect ones were, it was something so simple and yet it was the first time you’d ever been given the choice in something, allowed to decide something on your own, at the time you hadn’t known your blood was going to pour out all over them, ruin the perfect tiles you picked out, hadn’t realised you would spent your last moments on these tiles, those white shiny tiles.
you didn’t know what had led you here today, why today was the day you’d simply had enough, why you’d finally gotten over the fear and just done it, you didn’t know why, you were just done, so fucking done.
you couldn’t breathe now you realised, you think you were dying, although you couldn’t be sure because you’d never died before.
it felt good you think, knowing that soon you’d take your last breathes, soon you’d be gone, free from the shackles of your mind, free from your past.
you had been at peace with this decision for a long time, way before you had actually done it, way before you had even came into your mind, it was always your destiny to go out this way.
Your biological mum had went out this way, after one to many lashing from your father, days later your father had went the same way, blade to the wrist, just like you were now, you had found him, slumpt up against the bathroom door, just like you were now, it was always what was supposed to happen you realised, you weren’t made for the fame, strangers weren’t supposed to know your name, you weren’t supposed to feel the love that Katie had given you, that wasn’t your destiny, this was.
you’d spent to long pretending it was, pretending that everything was fine, that this wasn’t how you were supposed to go, sometimes you had even believed it, believed that you were going to be okay, some days you truly believed you could live this life, live a life of fame, happiness, love and then it would all come crushing down, and you’d be harshly reminded off your fate.
-
you thought you were gone, thought it was all over, but then you heard the beeping, loud obnoxious beeps, this wasn’t death, wasn’t hell or heaven, no this was something else.
this wasn’t where you were supposed to be, no you were supposed to be gone, you should be gone you did everything right, you didn’t exactly what your late mother had done and your father, they had gone, they got to leave and yet you hadn’t.
no you were still here you realised, you were in a dimly lit hospital room, the beeping becoming more clear, the soft snores of caitlin in the background, this was not the end.
this was much worse you realised, you had failed, you had failed yet again, if your father was here to see he would have laughed at your failure, he probably sneering at you right now, wherever he was, wherever you go when you die.
you didn’t want to open your eyes, if you opened your eyes it would all become real, what you had tried to do, you’d have to your mams heartbreak, you’d have to go to therapy and talk and talk, you couldn’t do that.
you were to scared, terrified in fact, you didn’t want to be here you couldn’t here.
you were getting truly distressed now, your heartbeat increasing, the beeping was getting louder now, doctors came rushing in trying to calm you.
“hey darling, it’s okay can you breathe for me sweetheart” you hear your mams calming essence, her usual accent thick with emotion.
slowly you opened your eyes, staring back at you were your mams bright green eyes, they were glossed all over, her eyes bag prominent.
you had done this you realised, you’d destroyed your mam, broken her heart.
“M’ sorry” you managed to croak out, your voice cracking slightly.
because you were sorry, you didn’t realise how upset your ma would be, you figured she’d get over it, you’d only been in her life a short time, you didn’t think she’d be so upset.
“you don’t need to be sorry baby i’m just glad your okay” katie replied, giving you a soft smile.
you could see the hurt in her eyes, you weren’t stupid, you knew it wasn’t okay.
“no i’m sorry ma I’m sorry for coming into your life and fucking up all your plans i’m so fucking sorry.”
you watch as your mams face falls, her shoulder drops, and the tears well back up again.
“No y/n you are the best to ever happen to me, i love you and i need you here with me, at home and healthy, you don’t need to be sorry for anything” she tells you, the urgency in her voice becoming more evident.
you shake your head “no i ruined your life i ruin everything i touch you should have let me died ma.”
“No baby, you didn’t” she replies quietly, her words remain in the air for a while.
you could hear the sincerity in her voice, it didn’t change how you felt though, maybe to her you hadn’t ruined her life, but to you, and everyone round her you had ruined her life.
“y/n before i met you, i was lost, i wasn’t me, i had lost myself and then u became your mam and suddenly everything was okay again, i found my purpose, my purpose was to be your mam to make you happy and healthy, you changed my life yes, but you changed it for the better, every single day i wake up and thank god that you came into my life, you’re my baby girl y/n and i love you.”
Her words hit you like a truck, you hadn’t known you were crying until Katie reached down to your cheek to wipe them away.
You didn’t want to live, or so you had thought, and then you heard katie’s words, and all of a sudden maybe living in wasn’t quite so bad.
“i don’t know what to do ma, i’m scared, and I’m all alone i don’t think i can be me again” you cried out, your words were almost unrecognisable.
“You can do it, you have me, Caitlin, your teammates, you can baby you are so strong” Katie tells you, hugging you tightly, she wishes she could hold onto you forever, wishes you both could just stay like this, where she could keep you safe and away from the whirlwind of your mind.
“go to sleep baby, once you wake up, we can talk some more, it’s all going to be okay i promise.”
and you believed her, maybe it will all be okay, maybe you can do this, you can face this, maybe just maybe your destiny isn’t the same as your mothers or father.
-
you didn’t wake up.
you never woke up again.
you had a seizure and your heart stopped, you died, you never got to hear Katie’s next words.
you weren’t given the chance to get better.
you didn’t get to see your full potential.
you didn’t get to achieve everything you always wanted to.
you never got live out that bright future everyone always told you that you had.
you didn’t get to finish school.
you didn’t get to sign your first pro contract, like you had always dreamed off.
all of those things never happened.
because you killed yourself, on them bright white tiles, in your bathroom floor, just like your mother and father had once.
-
Katie’s eyes snapped open, pulling the covers away from her body, scrambling out of bed, walking towards your bedroom, praying she’d find you, praying this was all just some kind of evil prank, that she’d find you safe and sound asleep in bed, like you should be.
your room was excatly as you left, the letters you wrote, remained untouched, katie couldn’t bear to read them, not yet at least.
your homework was left sprawled on your desk, your clothes scattered around your room, your fairy lights remained on, exactly as you left them.
to anyone else it would look like normal teenage girls bedroom.
but to Katie, it was the last thing she had left of you, the last part of you that wasn’t full of dark memories, the last thing that remained untouched form that night.
katies body trembled as she remembered that night, finding your lifeless body and blood sprawled out all over the bathroom floor, seeing your eyes that were once filled with so much light and happiness, dead and cold.
“Katie?”
Caitlin asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“you okay baby” she questioned slowly, watching as the brunette eyes frantically searched the room, looking for you.
you weren’t there.
you’d never be there again.
never.
“i had a dream of what could’ve been” she managed to choke out to her girlfriend, turning around to look at her “i miss her so much i just want my baby girl back cait” she wailed, heavy tears flowing down her cheeks.
she’d had this exact dream, every night since you had left, it had been exactly one week without you, without hearing your smile and laugh, it had a long and exhausting week.
Breaking the news to her teammates, watching as their face dropped, watching as their heart broke right in front of her.
and then there was breaking the news to the entire women’s football community, the child prodigy, the sixteen year old girl who was supposed to be Arsenals future ‘star girl’, telling the world that her daughter was gone, gone from this world, and that she would never come back.
it had been a long week of paper work, planning your funeral, she should have been planning your birthday, instead she was picking out flowers and coffins.
“it’s okay Katie, you’re allowed to cry and be upset, you can be upset for as long as you need baby” Caitlin sympathised, slowly making her way to Katie’s spot on your bed.
“she was only sixteen cait, sixteen she still had so much left to give, so much to see, she wanted to see so much and now she never will.” Katie rambled out, her words becoming almost unrecognisable.
“i know, i know, but now you get to live for her, do all the things she wanted to do caitlin replied slowly, pulling her into a bone crushing hug.
“i wish she came to me cait i could’ve helped” Katie sobbed out again.
“i know I’m so sorry baby.”
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holylulusworld · 3 days
Text
Arachnophobia
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Summary: You’re afraid of spiders, and you want to become Tony Stark’s assistant.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader, Tony Stark x Platonic!Reader, Peter Parker x Platonic!Reader
Warnings: arachnophobia, fluff, scared reader, cute Peter
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“You will work mostly with me and Dr. Banner.” Tony Stark, yes, the Tony Stark, explains as you try to keep up with his steady steps. You are close to reaching your goal, working as a lab assistant at the Avengers Tower.
“OH,” you nod, fearing to say something stupid and messing up this job interview.
“Don’t worry,” Tony stops in his tracks to flash you a smile, “he barely turns into his green alter ego these days.”
You giggle. “I’m not afraid of Dr. Banner because I don’t have a reason. I’m not a villain.”
Tony chuckles. “I know that you’re neither a villain nor a criminal. I did my research before even inviting you to the interview.”
Your cheeks heat up. Of course, Tony Stark would do a complete background check when receiving your application for the position. The Avengers reside in the building too. He’d never risk their safety.
“I hope you didn’t find out I stole a candy when I was four,” you reply, hoping to ease the tension in your body with a joke.
“I saw the footage,” he grins and points at the laboratory. “Let’s head inside. You can meet Dr. Banner and Peter.”
“Peter?” You question.
“I took him under my wing,” Tony replies. “He’s a good boy. Incredibly smart and kind-hearted. Hopefully, a younger version of me.”
You nod. That’s a lot to shoulder at such a young age. Being brilliant and having someone like Tony Stark want you to become his protégé. You envy and pity the young man. It’s hard to stand in a great man’s shadow.
“Shall we?” Tony puts his hand on a scanner at the door. The door beeps but doesn’t open. He leans forward, using the iris scanner to unlock the next lock. Lastly, he types in a code on the keypad. The door finally unlocks, and you can enter the laboratory.
“Wow,” you gasp. You knew that there was going to be lots of security. But Stark’s security system is still impressive.
“Welcome to the laboratory, Mr. Stark, Ms. Y/L/N.” Friday welcomes you to the laboratory. And what can you say? It’s even more impressive than you thought possible.
You look around, clasping your hands together. Bruce and Steve, who came around to let Bruce check on his shield for scientific purposes (which means Bruce wants to shoot a laser at the shield) watch you twirl around while giggling like a child.
“This is so awesome!” You exclaim, making all of them chuckle. They admire your honest enthusiasm and happiness at the sight of the laboratory.
“Hi, Mr. Stark, the new suit is awesome!” A voice stops you from getting even more excited. You look around the room, trying to find the source of the voice. Captain Rogers and Bruce didn’t say a word, nor did Tony. “Hi, miss! You must be the new lab assistant.”
“What—I?” You look around the room again before you slowly look at the ceiling. A bloodcurdling scream tears from your throat, seeing a human-sized spider on the ceiling. “Ahhhhh! No! A spider…A huge spider…A spider…a spider…”
You run toward the door, but it won’t open, so you make a beeline to jump right into Captain America’s arms. Clinging to a very surprised Steve like a koala, you wrap your legs around him and hide your face in his chest. Your teeth shatter, and you whimper in distress.
“Mr. Stark?” You hear something drop to the ground and whine loudly. “I didn’t want to scare her. What did I do?”
“Y/N,” Tony wants to laugh about the scene unfolding in front of him. You’re wrapped around Steve while he looks at Tony, wide-eyed. Steve doesn’t dare to move or say anything, afraid to scare you even more. “Uh, that’s not a spider.”
“It is a huge spider!” You sniffle and hold tight onto Steve for dear life. “HUGE! SPIDER!”
“Uh-miss,” Peter clears his throat. “I’m not a spider. I’m Spiderman.” He slowly steps toward you, tapping a hidden button on the brand-new suit, Tony invented, to let it disappear. “But you can call me Peter.”
Peter holds out his hand, giving you a cracked smile as you slowly dip your head to look his way. In front of you stands a friendly young man, not a spider wanting to scare you.
“Sorry for scaring you. I tried my new suit and crawled around the ceiling to test it,” he explains. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re…Spiderman…” Realization dawns on you. Crap, this is the Avengers’ tower, and the young man is Spiderman. “OH…no!” You sniffle, embarrassed. “I didn’t want to freak out. I’m sorry too.” You’re still shaken from the encounter, but smile at him. “Sorry…I’m just scared of spiders since one crawled up my leg and bit me when I was a kid.”
You both chuckle when Peter tells you he got bitten once too. He keeps the part of the bite turning him into a human spider out.
“Okay, let us all calm down and laugh it off.” Tony releases a shuddering breath. He feared you’d quit your job right after he hired you. “Steve, could you please let my assistant down now? We are not done with our little tour.”
Steve clears his throat. He forgot about the fact that you’re clinging to his body and that he protectively wrapped his arms around you.
“I think she needs a break,” Steve says, and refuses to let go of you. “Let’s get her some tea and something to eat. That was a stressful situation.”
Tony cocks a brow. He doesn’t like how Steve reacts to you in his arms. “Capsicle. No. We are not done with my tour.”
“What?” Steve furrows his brows. He already walks toward the door with you in his arms. “I’ll show her around. First stop, the kitchen, next to the communal room, and then her place at the tower. I think the room next to mine would be a good choice.”
Steve carefully places you on your feet. He looks you all over, listening to your heartbeat. Luckily, it slowed down.
“Shall we go?” Steve offers his arm to you. “I’ll give you the Steve tour.”
Rolling his eyes, Tony watches Steve guide you out of the laboratory.
“Great, now he stole my lab assistant before I got the chance to work with her.”
Bruce turns back to his work, while Peter still feels guilty for scaring you. He plans on making things up to you soon. Maybe he can even help you lose your fear of spiders...
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NERD!ANAKIN HEADCANONS
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TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.
Author's note: thinking about some nerd!anakin fic where he had heard the reader talk with her friends that she's not passing physics and since he has the biggest crush on her since second grade he later suggest to help her..if she'll help him with something else ;)
Nerd!Anakin who inside was a little dirty minded boy that wished nothing more to have a loving girlfriend to do with her all the cool, nice things he always wanted to do (and he meant more joyful activities than sex)
Nerd!Anakin who has a collection of technical manuals and scientific holobooks that he reads in his spare time. His nightstand is filled with them, and he gets excited when a new one comes out. He’ll stay up late, curled up on the couch, devouring a manual on hyperdrive mechanics or some obscure sci-fi novel, eyes glued to the hologram.
He also loves telling you all about the technical details of what he's learning. You may not always understand everything he’s talking about, but his excitement is so adorable that you just let him ramble on.
Nerd!Anakin who has a soft spot for droids, and he might even give them 'upgrades' just because he thinks they deserve a treat. “You’ve been working hard, buddy. How about a new power cell?”. He’ll talk to them while he works, explaining what he’s doing like they’re his assistants (his fav is R2D2 obviously)
Nerd!Anakin who gets ridiculously excited about the latest gadgets or tech upgrades. When something new comes out, he’s like a kid in a candy store. Whether it's a new holo-terminal, a high-speed pod engine - he’s always the first in line to get it. He’ll show it off to you, explaining every little detail with enthusiasm. “Look at this! It has a new feature that triples efficiency!” He gets that adorable spark in his eye, completely geeking out over the smallest improvements.
Nerd!Anakin who would love when you'd do your nails; he'd ask soon later (when you two are alone) if you could play with his hair to only feel you scratch very gently against his scalp
Nerd!Anakin who was a great whimpering mess whenever you touched him (poor guy had never felt woman's touch before);
a sharp gasp left his mouth as you touched the mushroomy tip of his member, his hips jerking towards you without thought. he was already embarrassingly close, and now your teasing was only driving him closer to the edge “please-“ he let out a pleading moan, the words barely leaving his dry mouth
"please what ani? Use your words like good boys do"
He tried to focus enough to form a coherent sentence but it was getting so hard when all his mind could focus on, was the way you made him feel “I’m close-“ he gasped out, his hips rocking frantically against your tightening fist “I’m so close baby, i need it” he let out a sobbing whimper
"can you hold it in a little?" you asked gently
he groaned at the question before nodding almost desperately “for you, anything” his glasses sliding down his nose
You only hummed, all proud of your actions. How easily you could tear him apart by your single touch. Using her free hand to move his glasses so they were a bit more comfortable on him. You increased your movements, making sure to
he could feel the heat in his abdomen tighten as your hand moved faster. he was struggling to keep himself together, not much to your surprise "oh-oh god-“ he let out a loud gasp and a groan as your thumb moved over his tip again, that little touch sending electricity up his spine “oh-fuck…” one hand digging into the couch for some kind of grip “I can’t hold it—please please please” tears of desperation and overwhelming began to prick at the corner of his eyes
Nerd!Anakin who when was nervous, draw circles and designs on the back of your hand to relax himself
Nerd!Anakin who did your own minifigure from Legos
Nerd!Anakin who always had perfectly ironed shirts
Nerd!Anakin who in general was perfectionist in everything he'd do. If he had a mess in his room, he couldn't focus normally. If just one thing was moved inches apart, it drove him wild
Nerd!Anakin who made cupcakes with his mother for you
Nerd!Anakin who's a true mommy's boy
Nerd!Anakin who teared up after you gave him his first blowjob. He felt so overstimulated when his thick member was hugged around your warm throat, your tongue working on his shaft..it was way too much for the first time, he'd gasp and ask you to slow down because if you wouldn't, you'd already have his cum dripping down your throat
Nerd!Anakin who gave you flowers - sometimes real one and sometimes he'd do them from origamy
Nerd!Anakin who has a little sketchbook where he draws schematics for future projects—droid designs, custom technology accessories, etc. He’s always thinking of new ways to improve things, and his sketches are filled with intricate details and notes.
Sometimes, he’ll show you a design he’s particularly proud of, grinning ear to ear as he explains how it works. “What do you think? Pretty sleek, huh?”
Nerd!Anakin who was a true worshipper of your body. Would press such gentle kisses all over your body as if you were a ceramic doll he was scared to break
Nerd!Anakin who's glasses got foggy everytime he made love to you, his curls sticking to his forehead and his pinky, swollen lips quivering to hold back his own orgasm
Nerd!Anakin who adored math and physics (but not as much as he adored you). And of course, he loved to help you with those subjects
Nerd!Anakin ho invited you to weekly movie marathon. With all the snacks ready and a fluffy blanket
Nerd!Anakin who adored to cuddle with you. It was something so precious for him, and whenever he had a chance, he'd just wrap his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzle to your soft neck
Nerd!Anakin who liked to play with your hair like brushing them out of your face, twirling the strand around his finger and watch intensively, as if it was the most important/gorgeous/captivating sight he had seen, how it hugged his finger so perfectly
Nerd!Anakin who had his 'sexual education' with you;
Anakin hesitantly reached out, his hand trembling as he lifted it towards your chest. He hesitates for a moment once more, not sure if he's ready to do that. He just felt so sinful watching you naked..but oh so good.. so, before the thoughts would envelope his entire mind, he gently cupped one of your round, full breasts. He instantly marveled at, not only the softeneness but the weight, the way it filled his palm, how it was so beautiful, seeing your raspberry ripple hidden thanks to his large hand made him feel so fuzzy all inside
As he squeezed the soft globe tentatively, feeling its weight sprawl all over his senses, he couldn't help but let out a low moan, his body responding to the newfound pleasure. Guilty feelings fade away, leaving him all needy for more of you. His fingertips graze over your nipple to harden it, eliciting a soft gasp from both of you. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with wonder. "I-how i-" he stuttered shyly "-what should I do now?"
"whatever you want..you can kiss it, play with it, anything you want Annie"
Anakin's eyes widen at your words. To have the whole access to your body felt more pleasurable than anything in his life. He leaned in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to the underside of your breast. You gazed down at how his glasses pressed against your skin, making your breath hitched. He then brought his hand up to gently squeeze and caress the soft mound at your left breast, almost nuzzling to the right one. He looked back up at you, seeking approval, as if not sure if he could go any further
"go on, they're all yours" you encouraged
Anakin smiles shyly at your encouragement, feeling emboldened. He starts to kiss and lick at your breasts, alternating between the two. He gently nibbles on your nipples, sucking on them and releasing them with soft popping sounds. "Ahh... they're so soft... and t-tasty..." he mumbled the last part more quietly, as if embarrassed that he actually thought about your breasts in that way
he accidentally uses a bit too much pressure with his teeth, causing you to hiss in pain. He immediately freezes, his eyes filled with worry. "I'm so sorry... did I hurt you?" His voice soft, laced with adorable concern.
"no--its okay..just try to use a little less teeth..and relax"
Anakin nods, his expression turning gentle again. He leans back in, this time more careful, his touch feather-light. He alternates between sucking and licking, paying close attention to the way you react to his touch. "Like this?" He asks softly, his voice muffled against your skin.
"just like that" you tugged on his curls
After the moaned sentence left your mouth, Anakin felt a surge of pride. He continues his gentle ministrations, his own body growing harder with each passing moment. He looks up at you,l with his eyes hooded. "Can I... can I kiss you lower now?"
Nerd!Anakin who was scared to eat you out at first, cause it'd be his very much first pussy. But when he did, he had no idea how to do it. He used his teeth a little too much, his tongue a bit too forceful but in time he got better
Nerd!Anakin who loves space documentaries. He'll make you sit with him on the couch to watch them, enthusiastically pointing out facts you didn’t even know he knew. He’s the type to lean over and say things like, “Did you know that this system’s star is actually binary? And it formed 4.6 billion years ago?”
Nerd!Anakin who uses cheesy, nerdy pick-up lines that leave you both laughing. He’s the kind of guy who would say, “Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you’re Cu-Te.” He says it with so much confidence that you can’t help but find it endearing.
When you tease him about it, he’ll get all flustered, scratching the back of his head with that sheepish grin. “I thought it was clever..and you'd like it, maybe give me a small kiss or something.."
Nerd!Anakin who is fiercely protective of his tech projects. If someone tries to mess with them or touch his tools without asking, he’ll get all defensive. “Hey, be careful with that! I’ve been working on this for weeks.”
But when it’s you? He lets you mess with his projects all you want, even if it makes him a bit nervous. He’ll give you a dorky smile and say, “Just don’t break it, okay?” But secretly, he loves sharing his passions with you.
Nerd!Anakin who, as smart as he is with machines, is absolutely terrible in the kitchen. He’ll try to make you dinner as a sweet surprise, but something always goes wrong—he burns the food, the recipe doesn’t turn out, or the kitchen ends up looking like a disaster zone.
He’ll stand there, looking embarrassed but hopeful, holding a burnt dish with a lopsided grin. “Uh, it’s a little... crispy..”
Nerd!Anakin who leaves you small, nerdy notes;
On a sticky note on your fridge
"You’re the binary star to my existence. Without you, my orbit is off. Also, I reprogrammed the toaster. You're welcome.”
In your notebook or planner
“If I could rewrite the laws of physics, I'd bend space-time just to spend an extra 5 minutes with you.”
"The only code I can’t crack? How you make my heart race this fast.
Tucked inside your favorite book
“You're like the perfect algorithm: complex, beautiful, and always leaving me wanting to solve the equation that is you.”
On your desk after a long day
“You must have a gravity field around you, because I can't seem to stay away. P.S. Check under the desk, I might've added a small modification.”
Next to your coffee in the morning
"You must be a supernova, because you light up my entire galaxy."
Left on the keyboard of your laptop
“I may be fluent in over 6 million forms of communication, but none can express how much you mean to me. Except maybe binary: 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101.”
On a scrap of paper in your bag
“If life were an RPG, you’d be the rarest item—a perfect balance of stats, charisma, and intelligence. Also, +100 beauty.”
Tucked in between your sketchpad pages (if you're into art)
“You’re the canvas, I’m the artist... together, we create the perfect masterpiece. P.S. I’m still better at drawing starships though.”
Left in your lunchbox
“Did you know you increase productivity in starship repairs by 43% just by being near me? I’d call that a superpower.”
Taped to a little DIY gadget he made for you
“This little thing is just like you—ingenious and holds everything together. Also, try pressing the blue button for a surprise.”
Next to your favorite snack
“You’re like the perfect engineering schematic: flawless in design, and I can’t stop marveling at the details.”
In your locker
"I’d cross the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs just to see your smile."
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TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet (I have not forgot about you now ;) )
(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)
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[🍪] chocolate chip cookie, includes; a fic inspired by a song of your choice!
maybe frat!rafe or either dealer!rafe (👀) with friends by chase atlantic😁😁😁😁😁😁😁they’re at a party and all her friends are fucked up and yk HAKSJDKD
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₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬
pairing: dealer!rafe x fem!reader
summary: ❝all of your friends have been here for too long, they must be waiting for you to move on. girl, i’m not with it, i’m way too far gone.❞ — after confessing his feelings for you, rafe gets nervous and leaves you the following morning. now you two are at a party, and he isn’t leaving without you.
warnings: friends w benefits au, mentions of drinking and dealing of drugs, arguing, suggestive ending
word count: 0.7k
a/n: wrote this with s2 rafe in mind..
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you were the only sober one at this party. along with rafe, who never drank when he was dealing, and vowed to never get high on his own supply. you knew he’d be here— a party wasn’t a party if rafe wasn’t serving up people in the corner of the living room. you stared at him from a distance, his eyes occasionally finding yours when he looked up from the stacks of money on the table. you hated how good he looked tonight. skin flushed with a sheen of sweat from having so many people around him, his bangs hanging loosely in his face, with that blue jeans and white t-shirt combo that you loved so much.
you swallowed thickly, your trance being broken when one of your, very drunk, friends grabbed onto your arm for support. “stop looking at himmm!” she slurred, cackling when you rolled your eyes. “he just wants you for himself without any real commitment.” she nearly lost her footing, a yelp leaving her lips as you decided to guide her out of the kitchen. while your friend wasn’t all the way wrong, she didn’t know enough about you and rafe’s ‘situationship’ to form an opinion on it. your friends only knew what you told them, which meant they’ve only ever heard your annoyed rants.
“let’s get you over here..” you sat her down on the couch where the rest of your friends drunkenly talked amongst each other. rafe wasn’t far from where you sat, his laugh echoing in your ears as he started stuffing his black backpack full of cash. you could tell by the smile on his face that he had a good night for shop. sensing that you were looking at him, rafe felt the burn of your gaze as he got up, having no intention of leaving this party without you on his arm. you smelled his cologne before he approached you, the scent making your heart flutter in your chest.
“hey, can we talk?” rafe stopped in front of you, your friends turning around at the sound of his voice. you looked up at him, cursing under your breath at how handsome he was. “leave her alone, asshole!” rafe smiled at your friend, flipping her off before getting you up and taking you outside. “your friends are annoying as fuck.” he stopped by his truck, backing you up against the vehicle until his thigh sat comfortably between your legs. you knew what he was doing. “they’re drunk..” you glared at him, “what do you want?” rafe tilted his head at your words. “what do i want?” he repeated.
“you gonna act like you weren’t staring me down in there?” he laughed, cupping your chin. “you look pretty.” turning your head away from him, you shrugged him off as you arched a brow. “i was looking at you, and?” you ignored his little compliment. “..and you haven’t replied to any of my messages or called me back.. why?” you shook your head. “are you seriously asking me this? you tell me you have feelings for me while you’re inside of me, and then leave without a word in the morning? excuse me if i felt like you were toying with me or something.” you crossed your arms over your chest.
“i got nervous, alright! but i swear to you i meant every word. i would never mess with you like that..” he stepped closer. “i’ve been wanting this, us, for a long time, y/n. i’m not good at this stuff, but i want to try, i want to do it with you.” your gaze softened. “do you mean that?” your voice was small, a clear indication that you weren’t trying to argue with him anymore. “i fucking swear by it.” you watched as his jaw clenched. “i wont disappoint you, baby.” finally, for the first time in two weeks, he took you in his arms. you sighed, feeling a weight you didn’t know was there, lift off of your shoulders.
“is this a revenge dress?” you laughed when he pulled away, inspecting your outfit. “no, but it worked.” you teased. rafe leaned down and kissed you, in which you wasted no time in returning. “come on, let’s get out of here.. ‘before your friends threaten me.” you let him place you in the passenger seat, a squeal leaving your lips when he landed a harsh smack to your ass.
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yandere-yearnings · 3 days
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Weird thought rant ‼️
I always see in smuts that the MC gets a belly bulge and all that but okay, hear me out, how about MALE belly bulge? I have no idea if that’s possible due to male anatomy but I just thought that would be something
Join the cause and support Male belly bulge 😸
dw nonnie, i'm alr w/ you😌✨ (+ for reference it is possible!!)
anyway, this, for vio bc i feel like it'd be more prominent on him than my other ocs. also as a little smth for all the vio fuckers who continue to dominate the inbox🥰
NSFW under the cut!
“Shit.” Gasping breaths. Intakes hitched harder and harder. “Fuck, please. Please, I’m sorr-”
Vio's words never quite made it out of his mouth, not when your fingers quickly found their place within the wetness oozing from the space between spongey tongue and roof. Teary greens straining to meet your gaze, pleading mercy like what you were doing to him was torture, even though Vio was the one who slammed his ass back to meet your hips each time, without fail. 
“Aren’t you a fucking mess?” The amusement in your voice was palpable, and you knew it got him off, what with the way he keened, forehead pressing to the sheets and hands fisting the fabric as though it could save his life. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard an apology from these pretty lips,” your point was driven home when he gagged, and your spit-slicked digits slipped out just for you to smear it to a shine on them, “best not start now, hm? It might make me wanna take pity on you and then-”
He cried your name, and you watched the muscles in his back ripple as he convulsed. Sweat glistening, mesmerising in the way rain droplets were when they ran races against glass windows, dripping into the divots of sacral dimples you were aching to dig your thumbs into.
“And then who’s gonna fuck you like this, huh?” Your cleaner hand reached out, wrapped around his throat tight enough to choke him, and pulled him up. It drove you deeper into him — had Vio's eyes rolling to the back of his skull, had him clawing at you with almost the same intensity as he moaned. “Fuck you this good,” your hand trailed to his abdomen, where skin stretched thin, “fill you up, make you scream. You know I’m the only one who can do it for you. Only I know who you are, what you deserve. Right, Vio?”
“O-Only you,” Vio rasped, “only you, Y/N. Please.”
“You keep saying that,” you hummed, pressing a kiss to his jugular absent-mindedly. His pulse was fluttering, light and so fast in a way you thought suited the image of delicacy he’d crafted for the world. The way his body molded to your shape said otherwise, unbreaking, despite your efforts to do just that. “What are you begging for? What have I not given you?”
“Everything.” Wisps of blue flurried in your vision, and they were all you could see for seconds after Vio tilted his head back on your shoulder. The ocean, in the colour of his eyes. Lapping waves that undulated and moved towards you. “This much isn’t enough.” Seasalt at his nape, on your tastebuds, becoming addictive. “Give it all to me.” Threatening to drown you. “Y/N.”
For a second you were gone, and then his voice, weighted only momentarily, had you snapping back into reality, into motion, into him. “Greedy,” you tittered, index up his Adam’s apple to tap on his chin and push it down, “can’t you see that I already am?”
“Fuck.” Vio's eyes widened, the slightest bit — you wouldn’t have caught it if you weren’t looking. Your palm smoothed over where his belly bulged, applied a little pressure and watched his pupils blow. It was funny to you that he hadn’t noticed before. “Fuck. Y/N, wait.” Between his legs, Vio's dick twitched, clearly not as spent as either of you had first assumed, not with how it was leaking now. “Wait!”
There are things you’d never know about him; what type of pleasure coursed through his veins on seeing the strain you put on him, if it was a physical fulfillment, if it was solely the feeling, or the thought, being claimed, stretched, ruined. You never wandered about it long — after all, it didn’t matter. In seconds, the ocean overflowed for you. He spilt for you.
Vio lost his mind for you.
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rosemariiaa · 15 hours
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~Lasts Firsts~
pairing: Paige x Azzi
a/n: yes i did lose my mind writing this but i had to! this is also my apology for the last fic.. 🤗 this is pretty long so take your time babe, also some tags @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @bueckerscore @juspeaks
themes: fluff, teasing
Enjoy!!!
It was barely 8:00 AM when Paige rolled over, her arm draping across the empty space next to her. She blinked into the early morning light, trying to shake off the sleep. She could already hear Azzi in the bathroom, humming softly, the sound so familiar it brought a small smile to her lips.
Last media day together.
The thought lingered like a weight on her chest, bittersweet and heavy. She dragged herself out of bed, feeling that familiar ache in her muscles from practice the day before, and made her way to the bathroom.
Azzi was standing in front of the mirror, twisting one of her curls between her fingers. Paige leaned against the doorframe, taking in the sight of her girlfriend’s morning routine—how peaceful she looked, even though they both knew today was going to be pretty emotional.
“Ready for the chaos?” Paige mumbled, voice still hoarse from sleep.
Azzi turned her head, giving Paige that small smile she always had when she knew Paige was nervous about something. “You asking me or yourself?”
Paige snorted, stepping closer until she was leaning against the counter beside Azzi. “Both, I guess.”
They didn’t say much after that, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Paige stared at her reflection for a moment, the weight of everything finally sinking in. Last media day, last season. After this? The WNBA.
“You think we’ll survive?” Paige asked quietly, her tone light but not really joking. Azzi met her eyes in the mirror, and for a second, Paige saw all the emotions they hadn’t really said out loud. There was excitement, sure, but underneath it was that uncertainty, the looming unknown of what came next.
“Paige,” Azzi said, her voice softer than usual. “You’re gonna be fine. We’re gonna be fine. You’ve been ready for this.”
Paige didn’t respond at first, just dropped her gaze to the sink. She’d been thinking about this a lot more than she’d let on. The WNBA wasn’t just another level—it was the next chapter of her life. And as much as she knew she wanted it, there was a part of her that was terrified.
“What if I’m not, though?” Paige’s voice came out quieter than she meant. “What if I mess this up? I mean… WNBA? That’s a whole new ballgame.”
Azzi turned around fully now, leaning her hip against the counter. She reached out, gently grabbing Paige’s wrist, thumb brushing over her skin in that way that always calmed her down.
“You’ve been playing against pros for years, P. You’re gonna go in there and do exactly what you do best. And… don’t forget you’ll be up against Diana, you’re probably gonna block her shots and then she’ll talk all kinds of shit you know how she gets,” Azzi teased, trying to pull Paige out of her thoughts.
Paige couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension in her chest easing just a little. “I can’t wait for Diana to “hate” me.” Azzi smirked. “Just don’t embarrass her too much.”
“Oh, I will. But not before embarrassing your Aces,” Paige shot back, her grin widening as Azzi’s eyes narrowed in mock warning.
“Excuse me?” Azzi gasped dramatically. “You better not mess with my team. If you even think about beating them, I’ll fly out there and beat you up.”
Paige laughed, leaning into Azzi, her forehead resting against hers. “You’re cute when you threaten me.”
“Not a threat, babe,” Azzi replied, her smile softening as she tilted her head just slightly, brushing her nose against Paige’s. “I’m dead serious. Leave the Aces alone.”
Paige wrapped her arms loosely around Azzi’s waist, finally letting herself breathe. For a second, she could forget about the future. It was just the two of them again, standing in their shared apartment, holding on to each other before the world outside came rushing in.
———-
By the time they arrived in the gym, the chaos was already in full swing, with half the girls making tiktok’s and going crazy per usual. The cameras, the bright lights, the reporters—it was all routine by now, but this time, everything felt heightened. It was their last one. The final first.
Paige watched as Azzi stepped in front of the camera, her expression automatically settling into her “game face,” the serious one she always had before interviews. Paige stood to the side, arms crossed, watching with amusement.
“You look like you’re about to kill somebody,” she muttered under her breath as she moved to stand beside Azzi for their photos. Azzi shot her a look. “I’m just focused.”
“Focused on terrifying everyone,” Paige teased, nudging her with her shoulder.
Azzi tried not to smile, but it broke through anyway, and Paige could feel the tension between them melt a little as they fell into the easy rhythm of their chemistry. They took their usual photos, Paige throwing her arm around Azzi’s shoulders, and their traditional piggyback pose, the same way they’ve done a thousand times before. But this time, the air between them felt different—heavier, full of all the memories they shared.
After the cameras stopped flashing, they hung back for a bit, watching the rest of the team get their moments in front of the lens.
“This feels… weird, right?” Paige said, her voice a little quieter now.
Azzi just nodded. “Yeah. But… it’s also kinda nice, knowing we did this together.”
Paige looked at her, her chest tightening with that familiar feeling of bittersweetness. “You’re gonna make me cry.” Azzi gave her a teasing smirk. “That’s my plan.”
———-
The media day madness finally wrapped up, and before Azzi could even think about unwinding, Paige had dragged her back home with a mischievous glint in her eye.
“What are you planning, Bueckers?” Azzi asked, standing in the doorway of their apartment, her arms crossed. “You’ll see. Just get dressed,” Paige said with a grin, shooing her toward the bedroom.
Azzi rolled her eyes but went along with it, emerging a few minutes later in the white tube top with Paige’s pink cover-up and those low-waisted jeans that Paige always went quiet about. She gave a little twirl, watching Paige’s eyes darken slightly.
“Stole my clothes again, huh?” Paige asked, leaning against the wall, trying to look unfazed.
Azzi smirked. “You love it.”
Paige just shook her head. “Get in the car, weirdo.”
They spent the car ride to the restaurant in comfortable silence, the only sound being Paige’s playlist—songs she’d carefully picked over the years, ones that always made her think of Azzi. At some point, Mitski came on, and Azzi hummed softly to the tune, stealing glances at Paige, who was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.
“So, P,” Azzi started casually, “how nervous are you to play against Diana?”
Paige chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not nervous are ut playing against Diana. I’m nervous about her kicking my ass after I block her.” Azzi laughed, the sound light and warm. “She probably will. I’ll be sitting courtside, watching her destroy you.”
“Thanks for the support babe,” Paige muttered, but she was smiling. Azzi always knew how to pull her out of her head when she got too wrapped up in her own thoughts.
“And just remember,” Azzi said, her tone a little more serious but still playful, “if you mess with the Aces, I will find you madison.”
Paige threw her a sideways glance. “Oh, I know. You won’t have to find me—I’ll be waiting for you.”
Azzi grinned. “You better be.”
———-
When they got to the restaurant, Paige made sure they sat in a booth—one where she could sit across from Azzi and just look at her. It wasn’t the most subtle thing in the world, but Paige didn’t care. Azzi caught on, of course, giving her a raised eyebrow.
“What? I just like looking at you,” Paige said with a shrug, grinning like she hadn’t just been caught.
Azzi rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous.”
They were mid-conversation when the waiter came over, a girl with a bright smile who seemed way too interested in Azzi. Paige noticed immediately, her smile dropping slightly as the woman complimented Azzi’s hair, her outfit, even her smile. Azzi, as usual, was completely oblivious.
“Thanks,” Azzi said, flashing the girl a casual smile, but Paige could see what was going on, and it annoyed her just enough to act on it.
Without a second thought, Paige reached across the table, placing her hand firmly over Azzi’s. The waiter glanced down, her smile faltering as she realized the situation, quickly taking their order and backing off with a stiff nod.
Azzi blinked, glancing down at their hands before looking back up at Paige with an amused expression. “Was that jealousy?” Paige scoffed. “No, that was me stopping her from embarrassing herself.”
Azzi grinned, squeezing Paige’s hand. “Uh-huh. Sure, Paige.”
After dinner, the laughter between them hadn’t stopped. Even as they waved goodbye to their server, still teasing each other about that moment of jealousy, the warmth between them stayed, making the whole night feel like a dream.
Azzi didn’t even bother pulling out her card when the check arrived. The second she started reaching for her wallet, Paige shot her a look, the kind of look that said, don’t even think about it. Azzi had seen that look so many times before and just grinned, leaning back in her seat as Paige effortlessly snatched the check, sliding her own card inside before Azzi even got a chance to protest.
“Every time?” Azzi asked, her tone half-amused, half-resigned.
Paige just shrugged, a cocky smile on her lips. “I like spoiling you. What can I say?”
Azzi rolled her eyes, but the truth was she loved it too. It was a Paige thing—doing little things like this without asking, always showing she cared in her own way.
After they walked out of the restaurant, Paige naturally slipped her arm around Azzi’s waist like she always did. It wasn’t even a conscious move anymore; it was just how Paige was. Her hand rested comfortably against Azzi’s side, pulling her a little closer as they walked down the quiet street. Azzi leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth from Paige’s body and the comfort that always came with being this close.
Paige’s grip was gentle but firm, protective in a way that Azzi had always loved. It was something Paige did, even when she didn’t realize it—holding her close, like she was making sure Azzi knew she was always there, no matter what. It made Azzi smile, thinking about how many times Paige had held her like this over the years, whether after a tough game, during quiet moments between them, or just walking down the street like this.
They kept walking, laughing softly, the cool night air brushing against their faces, but neither of them seemed to notice. Everything felt easy between them, and Paige, in her usual way, kept the conversation light. Azzi could tell Paige was doing it on purpose, making her laugh to keep them from thinking too much about all the changes on the horizon.
They were about halfway to the car when Azzi suddenly slowed her pace, and Paige’s arm tightened slightly around her waist, glancing over with a curious look.
“You okay?” Paige asked, her voice casual but her gaze full of affection.
Azzi didn’t answer right away. She stopped, turning toward Paige and stepping in closer. Paige’s arm never left her waist, holding her in place like she always did, her body warm against Azzi’s side. Azzi stared at Paige for a long moment, just taking her in—the messy hair, the soft smile, the way she was always so present, so hers.
“I love you,” Azzi said suddenly, her voice soft but full of all the emotion she had been holding in. It wasn’t planned—it just came out, like it had been sitting on her chest, waiting for the right moment.
Paige blinked, a smile tugging at her lips as her eyes softened. Her hand on Azzi’s waist tightened slightly, pulling her just a bit closer. “I love you too,” she whispered, her voice gentle, almost like she couldn’t believe how lucky she was to hear those words.
They both stood there for a second, letting the words hang between them. Then, without thinking, Azzi reached up and cupped Paige’s face, pulling her in for a kiss. Paige didn’t hesitate, meeting her halfway, her lips soft and warm as they kissed in the middle of the street, the world around them fading away.
Paige’s arm stayed wrapped securely around Azzi’s waist as their kiss deepened, and it felt like everything else just melted away. It wasn’t rushed or frantic—it was slow and full of love, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise.
Azzi could feel Paige’s heartbeat against her own, steady and strong, and she knew, in that moment, that no matter what happened, no matter how far apart they might be in the future, they’d always have this. They’d always have each other.
When they finally pulled back, Paige’s forehead rested against Azzi’s, their breaths mixing in the cool night air. Paige smiled, her hand gently caressing Azzi’s side. “You’re stuck with me, you know that?” she whispered, her voice teasing but full of love.
Azzi grinned, her thumb tracing along Paige’s cheek. “Forever.”
———-
yeaa…that was a lot and so darn cute 🥹
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koolades-world · 2 days
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So, request for the Obey me boys (main and side). When I'm emotionally stressed or overwhelmed, I get the urge to clean (especially if my space has been needing it). So, how would they react to an MC spontaniously cleaning anything and everything in that sort of state (Dishes, Floors, surfaces, their own room, etc)?
hi! sure thing!
i relate to this on such a deep level. it's when i get my best cleaning done LOL. having a crisis? suddenly the room is the best it's looked in months
posting this instead of spellbound because getting my car took much longer than I expected. spellbound will be tomorrow for sure :)
enjoy <3
Mc who spontaneously cleans
Lucifer
he may just have to marry you on the spot
his brothers aren’t exactly the cleanest bunch and sometimes he feels like he’s the only one making an effort
he might cry if he comes downstairs one morning and the kitchen is sparkling
Mammon
if he’s not the messiest bitch ever… no shade but there’s no way his room doesn’t look like it was hit by a tornado
however if he ever sees you cleaning he'll try his best to help
he will also try his best to keep things tidy to make it less work for you <3
Levi
I can’t explain it but something about him screams neat freak to me
but, this only applies to his spaces because it would be too much work
he applauded your efforts because more than once he’s cracked and just deep cleaned everything haha
Satan
he’s clean when he wants to be
and most of the time, he is. the only times he isn’t is to piss off lucifer even though he’s just going to drag him back to do it anyways
after seeing how hard you work, he never does that again haha. he would hate for you to have to pick up after him
Asmo
somehow clean but messy at the same time
he won't stop you if you want to go to town cleaning up his makeup pallets and what not
afterwards though he makes sure to treat you <3
Beel
definitely the guy that takes three plus showers a day lol
he always asks you to make sure he's picking up after himself though just in case
he appreciates you and everything you do :)
Belphie
if you think he's tidy, i am so sorry you are wrong haha
will complain about an area being dirty and then proceed to ask why you were cleaning it up
however he will thank you every time he notices you've tidied up :)
Diavolo
despite the fact that he has a whole team that cleans for him, he hates to leave behind a mess
so, he always insists you get him when you get the urge to clean
everything is better when you have someone by your side! besides, he'll take any excuse to be by your side
Barbatos
you know him, he’s incredibly tidy to the point that it’s almost impossible to find a mess in the demon lord’s palace
but in the rare cause you’ve beat him to it, he’s grateful since it’s rare he gets help
afterward, you’ll be having tea together, his treat
Simeon
he also seems like his things are always clean no matter what
it's almost like he's magic at the rate at which messes vanish
he will feel bad if he sees you cleaning, and will take over
Luke
both of his dads (simebarb sorry for kinda sneaking this narrative in here lol) are both neat people, so it only makes sense for him to be too
after all, he wants to be just like them!
if he catches you cleaning, he will instantly join in
Solomon
he seems like he would live realistically, not too dirty, but also not too clean
if things are a little cluttered, he's alright with it because it looks lived in
if you do spontaneously clean, he'll try his best to make it up to you with his cooking!!
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itneverendshere · 21 hours
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I love bartender!reader!!!!!! She seems so sweet and collected...but I was wondering if she's got a little fire in her? Maybe they're at a party together and she gets jealous......which is new because she's usually the calm one out of her and rafe. Hope you're doing great <3
loved writing this bc you're so right!!! it's just so not like her to lose her temper over trivial things but oh🫣 hope you're doing just a great as well💖
i'm usually so unproblematic - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) warnings: allusions to smut but no actual smut.
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You’re sitting in Rafe’s truck, staring out at the huge house in front of you, stomach in knots. It’s a mansion, more like.
Kook house. Kook party. Rich people everywhere. You can already hear the distant thrum of music, even from inside the car, bass-heavy, vibrating through the seats.
You chew your bottom lip and glance over at Rafe. He’s calm, casually messing with the radio, probably about to put on those trashy songs he loves that you absolutely hate but pretend to like because you love him.
It's insane how easy it is for him to just... be cool about this. But you?
You’re not so sure.
"This was a bad idea," you mumble, half-joking but also half-serious.
Rafe turns to you, one eyebrow raised, lips pulling into a crooked smile. “Nervous?”
You give him a look. “Obviously. I’m not...I don’t do these things. I don’t know these people.”
You’ve been with Rafe for almost a year now, give or take. Said your I love yous, met each other’s families. Hell, you’ve spent more time at Tannyhill than at your own place lately, and you’ve grown used to Rafe’s kook side. His friends, though? These parties? A whole other beast.
“I already met Topper. Isn’t that enough?”
He laughs under his breath, reaching over to take your hand. “You’ll be fine. It’s Kelce, and a few other people. No big deal.”
No big deal, you think. Easy for him to say when he’s been around these people his whole life. For you, being a pogue, working extra shifts at the country club just to pay rent… yeah, this is a little different.
“I know, I know. I’ll be fine. It’s just— I’m out of my element.”
He squeezes your hand. “Hey. You’re with me. That’s all that matters.” 
You’re with Rafe. The Rafe who loves you, who can’t keep his hands off you even when you’re just watching movies. The Rafe who gets jealous over dumb things, like if you laugh too hard at one of JJ’s jokes, even though he’s just your seventeen-year-old neighbor. The Rafe who texts you goodnight, even when you’re in the same room, because he’s a sap and you secretly love it.
“Alright, let’s go,” you agree, trying to hype yourself up.
Rafe smiles, and then he’s out of the truck, jogging over to your side to open the door for you, like a perfect gentleman. You roll your eyes but step out, the night air brushing your bare shoulders. You weren’t sure how to dress for this party, so you chose to wear something…safe. A pretty red top you only used on special occasions and your best demim skirt. It wasn’t exactly kook material but at least you weren’t in your worn-out shorts and usual crop top or in your work uniform.
The moment you walk inside, though, it’s like stepping into a different world. The house is packed. People everywhere, laughing, drinking, hanging by the pool. Everything’s pristine and polished, and you feel their eyes on you the second you walk in.
Rafe wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Want a drink?” he asks, leaning down so you can hear him over the music.
You nod, trying not to let the fact that people are definitely staring at you freak you out. You’re not a Kook. You’re his girl, though, and you know how much that pisses some of them off.
A few minutes later, you’ve got a drink in hand, and Kelce’s talking your ear off about something you don’t really understand. Golf. You smile and nod along, doing your best to keep up, but the truth is, you’re not listening. You’re too busy watching the crowd, still feeling like you don’t fit in. Like you never really will.
That’s when you notice her. Tall. Pretty, in that rich, polished way that’s almost too perfect. And she’s glaring. Right. At. You.
Your stomach drops, and you tear your eyes away, sipping your drink to cover the dread that suddenly hits you. You don’t know who she is, but she’s been staring at you since you walked in, and it’s starting to mess with your head. Was there something on your face? Had you met before at the club? Maybe she didn't like your drinks.
“Baby, you okay?” Rafe’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, his hand resting on the small of your back.
“Yeah, fine,” you lie, forcing a smile. He frowns slightly but doesn’t push it. Kelce’s still talking, oblivious.
You try to ignore it, but as the night goes on, she keeps popping up. Always staring. Always with that look crazied in her eyes. Like she could kill you. You’ve had a couple drinks by now, and your nerves are turning into a kind of irritation.
Finally, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, needing a break from the overwhelming feeling of being watched. You lock the door behind you, exhaling slowly as you stare at your reflection. Were you seeing things? Overreacting? Surely, Rafe or Kelce would’ve noticed as well, right? Or maybe they were used to this. 
I’m just overthinking it, you tell yourself. I’m fine. She’s just..
But when you open the door to leave, she’s there. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed, staring at you with that same stupid look, like you personally offended her by daring to exist. 
“Can I help you?” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
She doesn’t smile. Doesn’t even flinch. Just tilts her head, giving you the most disgusted once-over you’ve ever seen in your life. “You’re Rafe’s new thing, huh?”
What? You’ve had just enough to drink that your filter is basically nonexistent now. You blink, confusion killing the buzz in your head. “Sorry, do I know you?”
“No,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain. “But I know you.”
You laugh awkwardly, nothing about this is funny. “Okay? So what’s your problem?”
Her eyes narrow, lips tinted pink curling. Oh, she’s mad now. She steps up closer to you, practically chest-to-chest. “My problem is that I don’t get why someone like you is with Rafe. He used to have a certain standard.”
Oh.
You almost laugh again because...wow. Really? That’s what this is about? “Okay, Regina George,” you mutter under your breath. You’re not in the mood for this. You tilt your head, giving her your best innocent smile.  “And who are you?”
“Sophie. I dated Rafe for two years, before you, obviously,” she says, like that’s supposed to mean something. You didn’t know him back then, you hadn’t even spoken a word to him. "Guess he didn’t mention me."
His ex. Of course. Of course she’s his ex. 
You snort before you can stop yourself. "Nope, pretty sure he forgot to bring you up.”
You feel a little sting of jealousy in your chest, but you try to swallow it down. You’re not about to let this girl get under your skin. You’re better than that. You didn’t know him, it’s fine.
 “I’m not really interested in whatever this is.” You move to step around her, but she blocks your path.
“Just a word of advice,” she grits out, like you’ve personally offended her, “He’s not the kind of guy who sticks around for long. Especially not with girls like you.”
That does it. The alcohol, the nerves, the whole night—you’re seconds away from losing it. “What the hell is your problem?” you snap, your hands curling into fists at your sides.
“Dirty pogues who think—”
"Okay. I’m not gonna play whatever this is with you," you interrupt her, gesturing between the two of you, stepping forward so you’re toe-to-toe with her now. "If he wanted to be with a walking Vineyard Vines ad, he would be. But he’s not. He’s with me."
“You really think you’re different?” she spits, voice laced with venom. "Like you're special?"
Your laugh comes out sharp, more of a bark. “If you were so special, you wouldn’t be here, playing guard dog outside the bathroom. Move."
“Or what?” she challenges, her lips curling in that same superior smirk that makes your blood boil. “What are you gonna do, pogue?”
That’s it. You feel the fire flare up in your chest. Screw this girl. Your hands ball into fists, and you’re half a second from knocking that smug look right off her face when Topper steps in.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, let’s not turn this into Jerry Springer, alright?" He holds up his hands like he’s breaking up a fight at a middle school dance. You’re staring daggers at Sophie, and she’s glaring right back, but his hands are still up, a peacekeeper grin plastered across his face as he looks between the two of you. “Let’s not do this,” his eyes landing on Sophie. “C’mon, Soph, no need for the drama, yeah?”
She scoffs, crossing her arms and stepping back with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Whatever, Topper.
He watches her go before turning back to you, eyebrows raised. “You good?”
You nod, still fuming, but grateful he stepped in when he did. "Yeah. Thanks."
You let him take you away because if he doesn’t, you're going to follow her and throw a drink in her face or do something worse. You feel like you could punch her right in her perfect, stuck-up face. 
He leads you back to where Rafe is, and you’re too upset to even look at him. His hands are on you the second you’re close, pulling you to him like he can tell something’s off. "Baby," his lips brush against your temple. "What’s wrong? You look like you’re ready to kill someone."
You don’t answer. You can’t. Not without completely blowing up.
Rafe’s brow furrows, his eyes darting between you and Topper. ��What the hell happened?” he asks again, more forceful this time.
Topper gives him a look but doesn’t say anything, just shrugs. “Nothing, man. Just some girl drama. Don’t worry about it.”
Girl drama your ass.
He turns to you, and suddenly, he’s all over you, his hands on your waist, the other settling on the back of your head, “Baby, talk to me. What’s going on?”
You pull away, shaking your head, still too mad to speak.
He follows, his hands reaching for yours. “Hey, c’mon.”
Finally, you look at him. Really look at him. And the second you see his face, that stupid, worried puppy-dog expression, the anger starts to melt away.
“I’m mad,” you admit, “I got jealous. Your ex’s a bitch.”
Rafe blinks, and then, to your surprise, he laughs. A real, genuine laugh. You glare at him. “It’s not funny!”
“No, no, it’s not,” he says, quickly sobering, though there’s still a stupid smirk at his lips. “I just, I’ve never seen you jealous before.”
You cross your arms, still pouting. “I’m serious, Rafe. She was awful.”
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. “I don’t care about her. At all. I care about you.”
You roll your eyes, but your heart is softening. “She said you wouldn’t stick around.”
Rafe’s smile fades, and he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. “That’s bullshit. You know that, right?”
"She’s a psycho.”
Rafe’s expression changes, his frown deepening. "Sophie?"
"Yeah," you snap, because you hate the sound of her name coming out of his lips, "Sophie. Called me a dirty pogue, which—real original.”
“She what?” Rafe’s jaw tightens, and for a second, you see a flash of that old Rafe—the one who’d get into fights at the drop of a hat. "I’ll handle it.”
You’ve seen it before—his protective streak, the one that could turn dangerous if he wasn’t careful. Part of you loves it, the way he’d go to war for you without even blinking. But another part of you hates that you have so much power over him.
But right now, you’re still too mad to care about him handling anything. You push past him, heading for the exit, needing air, needing space. Everything inside you is on fire, and all you can think is that you need to get out. Anything but this house full of people who make you feel like you’re just dirt. People like her. You can’t stop hearing her nasal voice in your head, those snide comments digging into you like little needles, bringing up that same old insecurity.
“Baby, hold on,” His voice is behind you, and his hand is instantly catching yours, tugging you back before you can make it to the door.
You spin around, already ready to snap, but then you see his face—eyes wide, brow furrowed like he’s genuinely freaked out that you’re upset. “Don’t listen to her, she’s full of shit.”
You stare at him, your chest tight and aching, because yeah, you know she’s full of it, but it still got to you. It still hurt. “It just…” You swallow hard, trying to find the right words, even though everything feels like a mess. “It got in my head, Rafe. Like, I hate that she said that. I’m so sick of people looking at me like I don’t belong just because I’m not—”
He cuts you off, stepping closer, and before you can even finish the thought, he's dragging you into him. “You belong with me. That’s all that matters.”
You let out a breath, but you’re still worked up, “But it’s like—I don’t need some stuck-up kook girl who thinks she’s better than me telling me I don’t fit in. I know I’m not like them, but she said it like I wasn’t good enough for you. Like I’m just some—”
Rafe’s lips are on yours before you can finish. He only pecks you, but it’s enough to shut you up, to make your brain go silent for a second. “Stop,” his voice is almost pleading. “Stop thinking like that. I love you, okay? I don’t care what anyone else says.”
You blink up at him, you want to stay mad, but also want to let it go because he’s right here, so close, and he’s got that look on his face that makes your heart flip. “You don’t get it.”
He pulls you closer, hands gripping your hips like he can’t stand to have any space between you. “Then tell me,” he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Tell me why you’re letting her get in your head.”
You huff, but the fight in you is starting to die out. “Because she made me feel like I’m less.”
He tilts your head back just enough to look at you, “That’s bullshit,” his fingers are gentle as they trail up your jaw, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
You feel a little stupid for letting that girl get to you in the first place. But damn it, you’ve heard it before—from other people, from yourself—that nagging voice that says you’re not enough.
“I know.” you mumble though you’re still a little embarrassed.
Rafe smiles then, that sweet smile he only ever gives you, and he presses his lips to your forehead. “Good,” he says, tugging you even closer, like he’s trying to wrap himself around you. “Because I’m obsessed with you, and I don’t care what her or anyone else says.”
You let out a shaky laugh, finally letting yourself relax in his arms. “You’re obsessed with me?” you tease, tilting your head to meet his eyes.
“Hell yeah,” he grins, his hands sliding up your back, one hand slipping down to squeeze your ass, his thumb sliding just under the hem of your skirt. “I can’t keep my hands off you. You know that. It’s becoming a real problem.”
You roll your eyes, trying to play it cool, but you don’t stop the giggle from bubbling out. The way he’s looking at you right now, like he can’t even think straight because you’re standing in front of him—it drives you up the walls. Then he leans down and kisses you again, and this time it’s not...casual. His lips move against yours like he’s trying to take every thought in your head, and it’s working. Your hands slide up, wrapping around his neck as his tongue brushes against yours. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this. 
He grips you harder, lips moving to brush against your ear, “You’re mine, baby and I’m not fucking going anywhere.”
That hits you, hard, like a truth he always reassures you off but still feels brand new when he does say it. Everything that pissed you off, all the crap Sophie said, it doesn’t matter anymore. 
“Stop making me horny,” You whine out, tugging at his shirt and pulling him closer. You can feel his grin against your skin as he leans in, biting your lip playfully before kissing you again, you know he’s enjoying teasing you. His hand slides down to grab a handful of your ass again, making you gasp against his mouth, and you feel him smirk.
“I like you horny.”
You’re in the middle of this stupid party, surrounded by people who probably hate you for breathing, but all you can think about is how much you want him right now. His lips move over yours like he’s trying to claim you, and you’re more than happy to let him. It’s messy, all tongues and spit, but you don’t care. You love how rough and needy he is, how he groans into your mouth like he’s been dying to kiss you all night. It’s the kind of kiss that leaves you dizzy, the room spinning, and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or him—or both.
You tug at his shirt, frustrated with how much fabric is in the way, and he chuckles against your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you gasp. His hands slide down up to your neck, tightening just enough around your throat, and you let out a soft whimper into his mouth, making him grin.
“You're just so—” his lips brush over your cheek, then down to your bottom lip, kissing and biting just hard enough to make you squirm, "Beautiful, aren't you?"
You’re normally not one for pda, not at all. The idea of people watching, of eyes on you while you're with someone, always made your skin crawl. But when Rafe kisses you like this? When he’s got his hands on you? God, your brain just goes dumb, and every ounce of self-consciousness fizzes out. It's embarrassing, almost. All you can think about is the way he’s making you feel, the way he’s holding you against him, leaving you breathless and wanting more. You’re so not this person, not the girl who makes out with her boyfriend in the middle of a crowded room.
But with Rafe? You can’t even think straight. 
His hands slide under your skirt for the millionth time, blunt fingernails gripping your plushy thighs, and you nearly whine, “Rafe,” you breathe, trying to pull away long enough to think properly, but he just kisses you harder, more insistent. “Baby, stop,” you manage to whisper, though you don’t mean it at all.
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes all dark, his breath hot against your lips. “You want me to stop?” he teases, his hands still tight on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin in a way that makes your knees go weak.
You shake your head, biting your lip, and his grin widens. “Didn’t think so,” he murmurs before leaning in to kiss you again, like he can’t help himself, and honestly? Neither can you. You’re so turned on, it’s ridiculous. 
“I—fuck,” you pant, trying to get the words out between kisses, but he’s relentless, pressing you back against a wall, his lips latching on to your neck, sucking a bruise into your skin “Baby, please—”
He groans against your neck, one hand sliding up under your top, fingers brushing the bare skin of your waist, and you swear you’re about to lose it. “Please what, hmm?”
You bite your lip, trying to stay composed, but you’re way past that now. All you can think about is how much you need him. Right now. Anywhere but here.
“Take me to the truck,” you nearly beg him, just loud enough for him to hear, but you know he catches it because he pulls back just enough to look at you, pupils blown wide.
He smirks, running his thumb over your bottom lip, teasing. “Yeah? You need me that bad?”
You nod, not even caring how desperate you sound. “Please.” Your voice cracks a little on the last word, but you don’t care anymore.
You need him, and you need him now.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ˏˋ°•*⁀
Forty minute later, the air inside the truck reeks of sex.
You’re breathless, flushed all over, and your legs feel like jelly. Rafe’s next to you, grinning like an idiot already fixing his jeans like he’s not still catching his breath. It’s written all over you—the tousled hair, the smudged lipstick, the way your top is barely hanging on properly as you try to straighten it out, the stickiness you can still feel between your legs, on your panties.
You feel filthy.
You bite back a smile as you adjust your skirt, your body still recovering from the way he had your face pressed against the seat.  
“Shit,” you breathe out, trying to get it together, your fingers fumbling to fix your bra strap, “I feel like my makeup’s a mess.”
He just chuckles, leaning back in his seat with that cocky look that made you want to jump him in the first place, “You look perfect,” he says, eyeing you up and down like he’s ready to go another round.
You roll your eyes but can’t help the heat that rises to your cheeks. “Yeah, well, you look like you just ran a marathon.”
He laughs, reaching over to pull you close, his lips pecking your hair, “Worth it.”
You’re just about to leave the truck when the door opens, and as you both step out, you catch sight of Sophie and her friends walking past. Perfect timing. Of course.
She’s glaring—hard—and her friends are snickering, whispering to each other like they’ve just seen something they shouldn't. Sophie’s nose wrinkles as her gaze flicks between you and Rafe, her expression twisting into disgust like you’re both some kind of wild animals who just rolled around in the mud.
But you? You feel smug.
You meet her stare for a second too long, the corner of your mouth lifting in the tiniest, most satisfied smirk. You know she knows exactly what just happened in that truck, and it’s killing her. She’s practically seething, her friends muttering furiously under their breath as they walk by, noses in the air.
Rafe doesn’t even glances their way—his fingers hook into one of the belt loops of your skirt, tugging you back to him with just enough force to make you stumble slightly into his built chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it is.
“Thirty more minutes,” he murmurs against your cheek, planting a kiss there, casual but so possessive, his lips lingering just long enough to make your stomach shake with butterflies again, "And I'm taking you home."
And that’s what makes it even sweeter.
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littlelamy · 2 days
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the aftermath of the fight: s1!rafe x reader
the tension in the cameron estate was thick, almost suffocating, clinging to every corner of the house. the echoes of raised voices were still fresh in your ears as you made your way down the corridor toward rafe’s room. the fight between him and ward had been explosive—a storm of bitter accusations, angry words, and the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. both men had walked away from it bruised, emotionally and physically.
you’d hesitated for a moment, but the silence that followed the chaos made your decision for you. rafe was volatile after moments like this, and the thought of him alone in that headspace made your heart ache.
the door to his room was slightly ajar. you pushed it open softly, stepping inside. the sight before you was both heartbreaking and infuriating. rafe sat on the edge of his bed, fists clenched tight, knuckles white. his face, usually sharp and full of confidence, was clouded with something darker—anger and pain, mingled with exhaustion.
“hey,” you called softly, keeping your voice gentle. “you need anything?”
his head snapped up, eyes meeting yours with a mix of frustration and something softer, more vulnerable. “what the hell are you doing here?” he snapped, voice rough and raw.
you took a deep breath, swallowing the sting his words left. “i’m here to help, rafe. i heard what happened. you’re hurt.”
he scoffed, turning his head away, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “i don’t need your pity.”
ignoring his harshness, you crossed the room and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. he flinched at your touch but didn’t pull away. “i’m not here to pity you,” you said softly. “i just want to make sure you’re okay.”
you knelt in front of him, taking his hands into yours, carefully turning them over to inspect the bruises and cuts that marked his skin.
“shit,” he muttered, wincing as you gently touched one of the scrapes. “this is a mess.”
“i know,” you replied, your tone soothing despite the tension in the air. “but we’ll fix it. let me help.”
he stared at you for a long moment, the frustration in his gaze slowly softening into something like resignation. “why the hell do you put up with me?” he asked quietly, voice barely audible. “i’m a mess.”
you sighed, reaching for the antiseptic. “because i care about you, rafe. and you’re more than just the anger or the pain.”
he looked away, the faintest blush creeping up his neck, shame weighing heavy on his expression. “i just wanted to prove something to him,” he mumbled. “i wanted him to see i’m not just some...”
you waited, dabbing the cloth on one of his cuts. “not just some what?”
“not just some disappointment,” he finished, the words heavy in the quiet room.
you shook your head, continuing to clean his wounds. “you’re not a disappointment, rafe. you’re just... hurting. and that’s okay. it doesn’t make you any less.”
he let out a low groan, eyes squeezing shut in frustration. “i hate this,” he muttered. “i hate feeling so...so weak.”
you paused, looking at him with a firmness he needed to hear. “you’re not weak. it takes strength to admit you’re struggling. and more to let someone help you.”
his hands trembled slightly in yours, and you could see the cracks forming in the walls he always built so high. the vulnerability in him was raw and real, and it tugged at your heart.
“why are you always so damn good to me?” he muttered, half exasperated, half grateful. “i don’t deserve it.”
you finished bandaging the worst of the cuts, sitting back on your heels. “maybe you don’t think you deserve it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”
he looked at you, eyes filled with something between frustration and relief. “you really mean that?”
you nodded, leaning up to pull him into a hug. his hesitation lasted only a moment before he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight, almost like he was scared to let go. the embrace was intense, charged with emotion—his anger, your care, and a shared understanding.
as you pulled back slightly, your gaze locked with his, an unspoken tension hanging in the air. the kiss that followed was slow at first, your lips barely brushing his. but then, it deepened, the softness giving way to something more passionate, more urgent. his hands found your face, holding you close as he poured everything into that kiss—his regret, his need, his longing for something more than what his life had been up to now.
when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, the intensity of the moment still lingering between you. rafe’s eyes were softer now, a little lighter, like the weight he carried had lessened, even if just a little.
“thank you,” he whispered, his voice quiet but sincere. “for being here... for putting up with me.”
you smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “i wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
for a moment, the world outside faded away. the fights, the pain, the weight of everything that had happened—it didn’t matter. in that small, quiet space, it was just the two of you, connected in a way that made the chaos of life feel a little more bearable.
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