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#and i wouldn’t even know where to start
changbinlov3r · 1 day
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We can't be friends | H.H.
Pairing: Hyunjin x reader
Genre: ANGST, smut
Summary: you have been in love with your best friend for a long time. On a night where you were supposed to comfort him after a break up, things heat up and he finally looks at you the way you wanted.
Words count: 2,957
THIS WORK IS FOR +18 AUDIENCES ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Warnings: biting, protected piv, hickeys, blowjob, hair pulling, cursing(I think that's all)
A/N: I wanted to write something to "we can't be friends" by ariana grande, I was thinking so hard about what to write and this idea came to me so suddenly and I knew I had to write it.
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Hwang Hyunjin was everything you ever dreamt about. You didn’t realize that right when you met him in your first year of college, to you he was just a friend until he wasn’t anymore. You started noticing every little thing about him, how his eyes turn into crescents when he smiles, the face he makes when he eats something good, what are his favorite drinks and snacks. Suddenly everything about Hyunjin sounded so interesting that you didn’t even realize you were in love. You didn’t realize how happy you got every time he sent you a message, how touched you felt when he went to pick you up at work because it was raining and you forgot your umbrella, how calm you felt when you were with him, watching a movie and chilling.
The moment you realized you were in love, you knew you couldn’t be best friends anymore but you liked to pretend. Hyunjin never even looked at you twice so your mind never went to dark places, wondering what it would be like to tell him how you feel but even though that was the case, he didn't make it easy for you to stop liking him.
He would bring you snacks and medicine when you were on your period, when you felt down about anything he would be there to cheer you up and you could tell him just about anything, you knew he wouldn’t judge you — well, almost anything. Could he ever understand you about this, though? How could you fall in love with your best friend?
When he got his first girlfriend it was a shock to you, the pain in your chest felt like it would burn you whole, but you kept fighting with your heart, telling yourself that it wouldn’t do you any good for him to know about your feelings. His relationship didn’t last long but it also wasn’t the last you heard about a relationship of his and you thought you were okay with it. That is, until he met his last girlfriend. Hyunjin was head over heels for her and that killed you time and time again. Your heart broke more and more every time he talked about her, every time you slept over and heard him calling her late at night, telling her how much he loved her. A month went by, then three months, then a year.
Of course you didn’t want them to break up because you knew he would suffer and that was the last thing you wanted, even if in that case you would be the one hurting. You tried to date other people, but you always felt it was wrong because deep inside you didn’t want to get over him, not when you were still hopeful that one day he would look at you.
It was late at night when Hyunjin called you, it was clear in his voice that something was not right.
“Can you come over?” He asks, voice hoarse and tired.
“Give me ten minutes”, you tell him, jumping out of bed. You were already in your pjs, ready to sleep and no one other than Hyunjin could make you go out this time of the night.
You don't even change your shirt, putting on sweatpants and brushing your hair quickly before grabbing your keys and your coat, walking to the door. The chill air of the night blows your hair, messing everything up and making your face grow cold. Winter has been killing you for a while now, you have been avoiding coming to the cold outside since you started to work from home.
You get into your car, turning on the heater, putting on some light music so you can stay calm and not freak out about what happened to your best friend.
You don’t even knock when you get to his apartment, pressing the password to the door lock and entering the house. A strong smell of liquor comes straight to your nose, stopping you in your tracks. There are so many soju bottles on the floor that you can’t even count and you hear the sound of the shower, so you can only conclude that Hyunjin is taking a bath.
Sighing and taking your coat, you throw it on the table, going to the kitchen to find a plastic bag and starting to collect the trash around the living room. What the hell happened? Hyunjin is usually pretty neat, it’s rare to see his house this messy.
You hear the sound coming from the bathroom disappear while you wash the dishes, drying your hands on a towel and leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for Hyunjin to show up.
He looks awful, clean but horrible. He has eye bags under his eyes and seems tired like he hasn't slept in days.
“What happened?” You ask him, walking to him to take a closer look.
Hyunjin pouts, looking at you. You swear he’s almost crying.
“Jisoo broke up with me”, he says, running his hand through his hair.
“She did what?” You scowl, eyes widening and he sighs. “What happened? This came out of nowhere”
“I don’t know, she’s been acting weird lately and she didn’t want me to pick her up at work anymore so I asked about it and she felt offended that I was being suspicious of her, but I was not”, he whines, “I was just asking if there was something wrong”
“When did it happen? Are you drunk right now?” You recall the amount of empty bottles of alcohol you found when you arrived.
“She ended it yesterday, I thought she was gonna come around”, he cries out, “but she even blocked me on social media”
Hyunjin turns around, walking to the sofa and sitting, supporting his elbows on his thighs while he covers his face.
“I'm not drunk, I ran out of booze a few hours ago and just couldn't get myself to go buy more”, he sighs, “I have no energy”
You feel that pain in your chest, you never wanted to see him suffering like this.
“Look, you have today to cry and tomorrow you're gonna forget about her, okay?”, you groan, the last thing you want is to comfort the guy you like because someone else broke his heart. “You have me, you’re gonna be fine” You walk to him, sitting by his side and patting his back. Hyunjin sighs, nodding begrudgingly.
“Thank you for coming”, he says, leaning down and putting his head on your shoulder. “I know it's late”
“Don’t worry about it”, you assure him, “I'm always here for you”
Hyunjin nods, looking up at you before you glance down at him, his dark eyes watching you like he can see right through you, all your emotions. Suddenly the atmosphere becomes strange, you both fall into silence and you feel something deep inside you, something you don't think you have ever felt before as he glances to your mouth and then your lips are on his.
For a few seconds you can't fully understand what's happening, are you two really kissing? And is he reciprocating? Hyunjin’s lips are just like you thought it would be, soft and sweet. Are you a horrible person for doing this when he just broke up with his girlfriend? His hands move to cup your face, deepening the kiss but yours go straight to his chest, pushing him away.
“We shouldn't do this”, you shake your head, trying to get back to your senses. “This isn't right”
Hyunjin scowls.
“It's fine, I want it”, he tries kissing you again but you stop him again.
“You were drinking earlier, you are not thinking straight”, you try keeping your cool.
“I'm sober now”, he insists, “please, y/n”, he pleads, making your heart melt.
It's not like you don't want to have him, you really do.
“You won't regret it later?” You ask, biting on your bottom lip and when he shakes his head, you turn off the side of your brain that makes good decisions, kissing him again.
You grab his face, deepening the kiss, delighting yourself on his plump lips. His long hair falls around your fingers, tickling your skin and the brush of his tongue on yours makes you sigh. Hyunjin bites on your bottom lip, pulling it lightly while his hands slide down to your hips, pressing his fingers with such force you think it might cause a bruise.
He kisses you again, hungrily, leaning over and making you fall back on the sofa as he hovers over your body. You feel tiny beneath him, like he holds all the power in the world and you’re just there ready to make all his wishes come true.
As he trails kisses down your neck, you sigh and slide your hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off of him and throwing it somewhere in the room. You kiss him again, eagerly, not capable of staying away for too long as his hands slide down your shirt grabbing at your breasts, making you let out a moan. Your hands go down his abs, sliding inside his pants, pressing your fingers around his hard cock. You start massaging it up and down and Hyunjin bites on your bottom lip, pulling it slightly just enough for you to feel a slight pain.
He slips his hand down your bra, kneading at your breasts and pinching on your nipples.
“Fuck”, you murmur, not able to hold up anymore as you pull your on shirt off to give him the view of your chest that's bare in a few seconds since you work fast to undo your bra.
He watches you for a moment, mesmerized by your beauty. You feel your cheeks grow hot, trying to cover yourself but he blocks your movements, holding your arms above your head. Hyunjin kisses your neck, leaving a trail of bites that are going to cause you to use turtlenecks for a while but you are not complaining, he trails down your collarbone till your breasts so he can suck on your nipples, rubbing his hard cock against your tight while he enjoys his time at your chest.
You can't hold yourself back anymore, so you put your hands on his chest, pushing him away enough for him to sit down. You throw one leg over him, sitting on his lap, brushing your core against his hard cock, moaning to the delicious pressure. You kiss him again, rubbing yourself against him a few times, his hands go straight to your hip forcing you down.
You pull away when you can't breathe anymore, trailing kisses down his jaw and neck, giving him a bite right on top of his collarbone, not stopping until he hisses.
“You're going to leave a mark”, he groans, opening his eyes that were shut in pleasure, just to look at you, seeing the smirk you have on your lips.
“That's the point”, you say, finally detaching your lips from his skin, enjoying the view of it turning purple.
You get down from his lap, getting on your knees in between his legs, pulling his pants and underwear down to find his painfully hard cock, glistening with precum. You grab the base of his cock, pumping it a few times before you get close enough to lick the head, circling it with your tongue, listening to him moan while he grabs the sofa, knuckles turning with the strength he's using.
You hold one of his hands with yours bringing it to your head and letting it rest on your hair, as you look at him sharply, sucking up and down on his cock even more eagerly.
“Fuck”, he grabs a handful of your hair, pressing your head further down his cock, the head reaching the back of your throat, making tears escape your eyes. “You look so pretty gagging around me”, he murmurs, throwing his head back, groaning to the intense feeling of the orgasm approaching.
You feel his grip tighten on your hair and he cums a few seconds later, letting go of your hair and breathing heavily, trying to recompose himself. You stare at him from the floor, not sure if he's going to want to keep going, but he soon looks back at you stretching himself to the side of the sofa till he reaches the drawer in the rack, pulling a condom out of there.
“Do you want to-”, he begins to say.
“Yes”, you nod frantically not even letting him finish.
“Good”, he smiles, tearing the package and putting on the condom, his cock hardening again. “It's pretty difficult not to get hard again seeing you fucked out like that for me”, he teases. Your hair is disheveled, your lips are swollen and there are tears marks down your cheeks.
You smile sheepishly watching as Hyunjin offers you his hand, pulling you down to sit back on his lap. You grab his cock, teasing your entrance lightly, closing your eyes to the feeling. When you sink down you swear you can see stars, his cock is just perfect, the stretch feels so good you can't even begin to describe it. He's reaching places you didn't even know you wanted to be reached, the way he grabs your hips, pushing you down on him while he makes you grind makes the sensation a thousand times better. You can already barely breath when he kisses you again, bringing a hand to your hair and pulling it while he bites on your lips, you can feel him thrusting into you, faltering movements showing that he's almost reaching his second orgasm. He trails kisses down your neck, kissing the hill between your breasts and licking on your right nipple while he curses under his breath.
“I'm gonna cum”, he announces, detaching his mouth from your chest, glancing at you just to see you nod, murmuring ‘me too, I'm almost there’ over and over until a loud moan escapes your lips. Your legs tremble and you hug Hyunjin looking for some kind of support, he wraps his arms around you, fucking into you while he cums too.
You don't have any strength left to get up when you come down from your high, resting your head on his shoulder. Hyunjin gently picks you up, holding your legs around his hips while he carries you to his room, laying you down on his bed. He murmurs something but you're too groggy to understand him, falling into a deep slumber as soon as you feel his lips meeting your forehead.
It's already afternoon when you wake up, there's no one by your side though and you feel the pain of regret beginning to find its way to your chest. You could ignore it, you really could, if it wasn't for Hyunjin’s voice coming from outside the room. You dress up fast, walking to the door to hear what he's talking about and then you realize he's not alone.
“Do you have any idea of how much you hurt me?” You hear his voice.
“I'm sorry”, you hear Jisoo’s voice, “I know I went overboard this time but I wasn't thinking clearly”
You feel your stomach sinking in, your heart starts beating on your ears but you make a huge effort to keep listening to them.
“What do you want me to do about it now?” He asks, sighing.
“Let's get back together”, she suggests, “we can pretend we never even broke up in the first place”
You want to believe with all you have in you that he's gonna deny her, that he's going to think about you and tell her he's not interested anymore.
“Fine”, he says, “but I'll need some time to think”
You wish you could say you're surprised with his answer but you're not, it's not even sad, it's just pathetic. You really thought that he would really look at you this time, didn't you? That he would fall in love with you after one night together? That's embarrassing to say the least.
You scoff to yourself, walking around the room and collecting your things, you want to get the hell out of there and disappear from this world.
You hear the front door being closed and you know Hyunjin is gonna show up at any time now.
You're already ready to go when he opens the door, stopping on his tracks to look at you.
“I didn't know you were awake”, he says, sheepishly.
“I am”, you say walking past him in the direction of the front door.
“Y/N, about yesterday-”, he starts saying but is interrupted by you spinning around to look at him, trying to contain the tears that are threatening to escape your eyes.
“You're a fucking asshole”, you tell him, making him scowl.
“I- look, you don't understand”, he tries but you laugh, scoffing at him.
“What don't I understand? That you fucked me one night and went back to your girlfriend the next morning?”
“I wasn't on my right mind yesterday”
“Fuck you”, you feel your face hot with anger, “you said you wouldn't regret it”, you cry out as you run your hands through your hair, “I guess that's on me for really believing you”
“Let's not let this ruin our friendship okay? We can take some time apart to clear our heads but we are still best friends, y/n”
“We can't be friends”, you inform him, “I have known that for a long time now but I liked to pretend”, you sigh, waiting for him to say something, anything that could make you stay, but Hyunjin just stares at you in shock and watches as you leave him.
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rafescurtainbangz · 2 days
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Frat Prez - Rafe Cameron Blurb +18
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Minor DNI
Frat!Rafe x female reader
1k
Play fighting, roughish sex, unprotected p in v, spanking, choking, swearing, pet names.
"RAFE STOP. JESUS," you shout, pushing him off as he smiles at you wickedly.
"What? Thought you liked when I played with your tiddies," he asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing you tightly, only to let his hands creep higher, doing it again. You throw back your elbow, jabbing him in his stomach, his abs making your act of aggression laughable.
"I'm trying to study, Rafe. C'mon," you whine as he wraps you up a little tighter in his arms?”
”At a frat house?” He asks through a teasing laugh. “Lookin’ this fine?”
"Leave me alone, or l'm gonna kick your ass."
"Woah... Wait, doll. We scrappin'?" He chuckles through a gravelly laugh. "You're gonna kick my ass?" He asks as he points to himself, with a taunting smile.
"Yeah... And, l'd win too," you sass, knowing there's no way he's gonna let this go, playing into his game. You stand up from your chair chest-to-chest with Rafe, looking up at him. "So, are you gonna do anything, Cameron? Or, are you just gonna stand there like a bitch-" He cuts you off, lifting you over his shoulder, walking with you up the stairs as you put up a fight.
“What’s up your ass today, princess?” He chuckles before reaching up, cracking your skin with the palm of his large hand, leaving behind a sharp sting. “Not me. Not yet at least,” he snickers.
”You wouldn’t get it, Rafe. You don't give a shit about school,” you sigh.
“Well, that’s just not true. You’re talkin’ to the Frat Prez, pretty. ‘Course I care.” He kicks his bedroom door shut, slamming the lock with a smirk before flicking his backward cap to the side.
“I said school, Rafe. Not the frat.” You mumble as he lays down on his fluffy area rug, beckoning you to straddle his lap. You sit on top of him, resting your hands on the chest of his crisp white t-shirt.
"Kick my ass, baby doll. I'll even give you a headstart."
"How are you already hard?" You tease as you circle your hips on his rock-hard bulge through his gray sweats.
"I got hard when you elbowed me," he answers with a boyish smile, making you roll your eyes as a blush creeps across your cheeks. "So, are you gonna do anything, ma, or are you just gonna sit there like a bi-" You cut off his words with a decent slap to the cheek, making his mouth fall open in disgust.
"That hurt," he spits.
"And, your spanks feel great," you retort, delivering another slap, causing him to gasp playfully.
"Didn't think you had it in you, kid," he taunts. Reaching around, smacking your ass rougher than ever, making you scream. Your hands bind around his thick throat, squeezing tightly, making him return a crooked smile.
He quickly rolls you to your back, your hands still firmly wrapped. The veins in his neck protruded, that same smile still slicked on his lips. He grabs your wrists, pinning them against the carpet with a bruising grip.
Rafe releases his hold, sitting on top of you, giving you his full weight as you wriggle and protest. "Damn, baby. You're kind of a pussy," he rasps as he moves his hands up your body slowly, landing on your neck, taking his turn choking you.
You release a choked moan as he starts to grind himself into you, nudging your clit with each roll of his hips. His hands trail back down your body, rising slightly on his knees as he plays with the band of your shorts.
"Where are you goin'? Huh?" Rafe shouts, giving you just enough room to flee. You crawl away, only for Rafe to grab for you, pulling you back as well as your shorts off your body. He smacks your bare ass, holding you in place as he yanks his sweatpants down.
"Rafe!" You squeal, fighting away from him with minimal effort this time, hoping for this outcome all along.
"What?" He snickers. "I won. Just claiming my prize." He groans as he clutches his hard cock in his fist, running the tip through your soaked folds.
"Prizes? Don't remember talkin' about that - RAFE!" You scream as he slams his long, thick dick deep."
"Well you're gettin' this cock, baby. Maybe you're the winner. Hmm?" He snickers at his own stupid joke as he throws his hips into you rapidly.
"Too much, Rafe," you whimper.
"You tappin' out, princess?" He grunts. "We just got started. We gotta toughen you up a lil bit." Rafe throws you to your back, quickly ripping off his shirt. Your eyes follow the indentations of his abs to his deep v-lines, so distracted by his body that you gasp again when he ruts himself in again. "Fuck. You're so tight, y/n," he moans, lowly.
You can feel him stretching you out; a sharp pressure between your thighs. He continues pounding you into the floor, breasts bouncing with each thrust. He lifts your t-shirt exposing your tits before giving one a slap.
"Ouch, Rafe!"
"Please-" he chuckles as he sees the want in your eyes.
Rafe moves his hands under your neck, propping your head up so you can see. "Bet my lil slut wants to watch. Don'tcha?" He teases, but he's right. You watch as your soaked cunt swallows up his dick, hitting the right spot each time. "Fuck, y/n. Look at you taking me so well," he burns, his slick bangs and forehead pressed against yours.
"Can't take me in a fight but you can take my cock like a champ," he bullies, running his tongue along his plump bottom lip.
A familiar heat builds inside you. You close your walls around him, gripping him harder. Rafe’s brows knit tight.
"Mmm... I love when you do that," he moans. His lips crash into yours, messy kisses as the two of you fight for air.
"You know if you cum before me, Rafe, I win," you pant against his lips, feeling him smile along yours.
"And, when has that ever happened, sweetheart?" He breathes as his fingers meet your clit making your thighs tremble uncontrollably.
"You're gonna cum. Aren't you?" He groans. "I can tell."
"M'not"
"You're not?" He teases as he moves his fingers quicker.
"Fuck, Rafe," you moan, arching your back as your orgasm washes over your body. Rafe pushes even deeper, flooding you with his climax. His fingers dig into your hips, mucles clenching as he fucks out the last bit of his pleasure and yours.
"Fuck, baby," he groans. "I won."
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dandelions4us · 2 days
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Party’s Over
Regina George x Reader Summary: Where Regina ends her own party for her cramping lover Words: 1,1k A/N: Is it noticeable I’m having period cramps and need some comfort from the prettiest (and meanest) queen bee of all? I hope not
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As the night went on, Y/N couldn’t believe how many more people could crash into her girlfriend’s party. To say the house was full would be an understatement. She sipped on her solo cup, something she could not pinpoint, even if her life depended on it, and searched for Regina with her eyes.
Spotting the blonde head among the croud was easy, though, she could recognize the girl with her eyes closed. She was talking with some people, standing confident in her beautiful maroon dress – it hugged her soft curves perfectly –, her signature smirk adorning her crimson lips and she gently flipped her hair off her shoulder.
Y/N smiled to herself, feeling lucky to have such a wonderful girlfriend. But it faltered quickly as she felt the pressure she knew way too well right at the bottom of her belly. It wasn’t surprising, giving the ache she felt on her lower back since the moment she woke up.
“Fuck.” She mumbles, walking off towards a bathroom to make sure she didn’t just start her period. She didn’t, which was good, as she sighs in relief. Washing her hands and splashing a bit of cold water on her neck, she embraces herself ready to play it cool for a few more hours, not wanting to ruin the party for her girl.
“Hey, I was looking for you. Everything ok?” Regina asks when she finds her, hands gingerly resting or her waist. “Yeah, I’m good. Just went to the bathroom to freshen up a bit.” Y/N smiles, placing her own hands on the blonde’s shoulders.
“Good. Come here, I have a few people I’d like to introduce you.” She responds, kissing her girlfriend quickly before pulling her by the hand to a small group of peers.
To be honest, Y/N did a fairly good job of play pretend for two hours, but it was starting to get to her. The cramps were just getting stronger, making her whole body achy and tense. But she kept her facade as better as she could, not willing to spoil Regina’s fun, knowing she would drop everything to make sure she was fine.
They were now sitting outside by the pool, an array of chairs and couches, talking animatedly with everyone else. I mean, most likely Regina talked and Y/N just agreed and nodded along, smiling every now and then.
When a strong cramp came, she scrunched her face and pressed on the pillow covering her stomach. The blonde must have felt how her body tensed under the hand she had on her girlfriend’s thighs ‘cause she turned her head, a concerned look on her eyes as she looked in hers.
“What’s wrong, baby?” She whispered, her thumb caressing soft shapes where it rested. “It’s nothing, don’t worry.” Y/N tried reassuring, but it wasn’t as convencing as the previous times. Sensing her discomfort, Regina excuses both of them and walks away to a more secluded area, hand now on the small of her partner’s back.
“Wanna try again and tell me what’s bothering you?” She asks softly, looking down with honeyed eyes. Y/N sighs and relents. “It’s just cramps. I have them a few days before my period also. Nothing too bad, I promise.” Right after she ends her sentence, another wave of piercing pain stabs at her womb, making her fold and frown.
“Oh, I can see that.” Her girlfriend says, sarcastically, but sighs, concerned. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would’ve got you some painkillers and a hot water bottle, maybe also put you to bed.” “Thay’s exactly why.” She furrows her eyebrowns, confused. “I didn’t want you to step out of your own party just to take care of me.”
“That’s nonsense. Baby, I would drop everything to take care of you, gladly.” She takes the shorter girl’s cheek on her hands, soft but firm, to prove her point. “You’re my girlfriend and I love you. Of course taking care of you and making sure you’re ok is my priority. Not some silly party that wouldn’t be as joyful if you weren’t with me, ok?”
Y/N couldn’t help but tear up a bit, but she blamed her hormones. “Okay.” She agreed quietly. Regina smiles, leaning in for a brief but passionate kiss, trying to show all of her love and care through it.
“Now, come on, let’s get you upstairs. Somewhere quieter and confier.” And holding hands, they both walk up Regina’s room. She sat her girlfriend in her bed and then rummages through her closet for comfortable clothes she could wear.
“Here, love. Change into these while I go downstairs to grab you some medicine and put an end to the noise.” She hands her the pile of clothes. “You don't have to end the party just because of me, Gina. I can rest just fine.” She frowns. “Don’t be silly. I’m coming back to cuddle you so there’s no reason to keep randos in my house. So stay put, I’ll be right back.”
She leaves, closing the door and Y/N can’t help but smile like a school girl over her affectionate lover. She changes clothes, relaxing breathing Regina’s perfume on them. She also puts a pad on, just in case her period comes while she sleeps – she’d die of embarrassement if she bleeds on her girl’s bed.
The noise disappears quickly, Y/N can hear the commotion of people leaving and a faint voice of her girlfriend shouting. In about ten minutes, she returns, bearing meds, water and snacks.
“I have not idea where my mom put our water bag and my heating pad broke, so I’m sorry.” “Gina, it’s okay! This is more than I could ask for, thank you.” “Only the best for my baby.” She smiles and walks over to the bed, giving her partner a few pills and the water.
The hurting girl drinks half the water bottle and nibs on the snacks so her stomach wouldn’t be so upset because of the meds and alcohol she consumed.
“There you go. You should rest now. I’m sure you'll be feeling better tomorrow.” She fluff the pillows and covers her sweet girl with the thick duvet before climbing in bed herself (now in her sleep attire).
She scooches closer, tangling their legs as she holds her tight against her chest, kissing her head lovingly.
“Thank you for taking such good care of me, Gina.” Y/N whispers, face nuzzling oh the blonde’s neck. “Of course, baby. You don’t even have to thank me. I’d do it over and over again, just for you.” She responds, one hand scratching her girlfriend’s scalp while the other held her as close as possible.
“I love you.” Y/N says, feeling relaxed, loved and safe. “I love you, too, princess. Sleep tight, I’ll be here when you wake up.” Regina whispers, kissing her temple tenderly.
And just like that, they both fell asleep in each other’s arms, secured in a cocoon built with pure love and care.
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A/N: I had to take matters into my own hands. I could not go any longer without more fanfictions of my favorite blonde. Hope you guys liked it! <3
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disneyprincemuke · 1 day
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a feeling so peculiar * fem!driver
the new season is finally starting and it doesn't start out as great as she'd expected
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, mick schumacher x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver, liam lawson x fem!driver
notes: whatever is on the masterlist for the 2025 season is all i'm going to write for the 2025 season (i think) and it's all angst so sry in advance
(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)
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for starters, she’s never been shy of being on the receiving end of bad news. or devastating news, or ones that feel earth-shattering.
she knows that because growing up in a male-dominated scene has prepared her for that. people used to tell her to give it up because she wouldn’t get anywhere with it, or not to get her hopes up expecting something from a place where she’s clearly not wanted.
but she’s made it this far to formula 1. with her best friends.
her first year in the sport, she climbed to a mere 6th place and ended 4th in her sophomore year. just months ago when the 2024 season had wrapped up, she was on top of the world. a woman in the top 5 of the driver’s championship — it’s definitely something.
to her, she expected that the only way was up.
she could not have been more wrong about that.
the lights have just gone out, the cars on the grid have just skidded off for the evening and she’s… in the garage? in liam’s garage, to be exact.
noise-cancelling headphones on her ears as she stares dreamily into the screen of data of liam’s car. realistically, she should be helping out because she’s always been big on numbers, but not today. something didn’t feel right.
she’d been so excited all winter break to get back into the car, hopping from all the adrenaline and glory she put in her pocket from the year before. only for her car to have an irreversible problem that would force her out of the race before it even began.
she didn’t even have a chance to participate in the first race of the season. no way to shut down all of the unwanted background noise of the critics of her involvement still in the sport.
“hey.” she feels a bump against her hip, flinching at the sudden intrusion of her thoughts. “brought you ice cream.”
her eyes flutter close and a sigh of relief passes her lips. she smiles and takes a small cup into her hands. “i was wondering where you’d run off to.”
matt grins. “you looked pretty upset so i went ahead and got you some ice cream. does it at least make you feel a little better?”
“yeah, a little,” she says softly, pursing her lips. “thank you.”
but there’s still a yearning in her chest to be the one in the car to race tonight. that’s not fair — how come liam gets to race this weekend and she doesn’t?
she thought about politely asking for his car, but she couldn’t get herself to do that to him. he’s now become one of her best friends after all.
“rocky.”
she tilts her head at the call of her name, turning around to meet a familiar pair of eyes. one that she’s honestly been avoiding all day from the turnout of the weekend.
sebastian had been the one to break the news to her: that she wouldn’t be able to participate in the race due to a fault in the car. she had simply nodded while tears formed in her eyes and turned to walk away from him.
if you were to ask sebastian, the lack of a response from her scared him.
“ice cream?” the girl offers with a small smile, extending her hand towards him.
sebastian glances down at the ice cream before lifting his hand to reveal a cup of himself. “matt got me a cup too,” he admits with a small grin. “i just wanted to check if you’re okay. with the car and the pulling out of the race…”
she smiles politely, lips pressed into a thin line. what exactly is she supposed to say to someone who doesn’t really have anything to do with the development of the car? well, he does have involvement in it — being a retired world champion warrants that kind of valuable input — but she hardly believes it’s his fault.
“it’s okay,” she says softly, feeding herself another spoonful of ice cream. she blinks as her answer registers in her head. she shakes her head with a small laugh. “i mean– i’m okay. it’s just one race.” she glances at matt, standing next to her. “right?”
matt blinks at her. caught off-guard by her sudden want of his opinion; he’s an actor, not a race car driver. he only knows more about one of the two and it’s the answer that his girlfriend wants to hear. so he nods, “right.”
she turns back to sebastian. “a little frustrating,” she shrugs, “but things like this happen. that’s what you always say.”
sebastian smiles. “you learn quick, kid,” he pats her head endearingly. “that’s a good grasp of the concept. you’ll be back on the track next week good as new, i promise.”
she nods, forcing herself to swallow down the words that sebastian spoke to her. but there’s a churning in her stomach that she cannot seem to ignore as she feels her appetite come to a halt suddenly.
she huffs softly as she turns back to the screen. things like this happen, she repeats in her head. surely it can’t get any worse than this.
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so it apparently can get worse.
she sits in the car slightly longer than she needs, eyes staring intensely at the steering wheel in her hands.
something’s not right, something’s off. something doesn’t feel okay.
she wants to blame something — rather someone — that isn’t the car. perhaps, she’s suddenly become the problem without her knowledge? it feels like something has shifted in the air recently because nothing seems to go her way anymore.
“is everything okay?”
she flinches at the sudden voice that fills her ears, reminded that she’s still sitting in her car in parc ferme. “yes,” she answers softly at first, “yeah. i’m okay. sorry. it was just a long race. i’m quite exhausted.”
“copy. let me know if you need help, okay? or if you need to talk. it was a tough race.”
a finish out of the points feels so foreign to her. to be two races into the new season and not be in the top 10 of the driver’s championship. this time last year, she was at least in the top 8 in the standings by the second race of the season.
not this time.
but a slow start isn’t so unheard of for her. it feels like the only thing she can do now is hope that everything gets better eventually. it can’t stay like this all year, right?
when she does arrive at her garage, though, it seems that sebastian is not the only one concerned about her first finish out of the points in almost a year. a crowd has formed in her garage, her friends all staring at her cautiously as they await to see the big reaction that they’ve been expecting from her.
“what?” she asks softly, putting her helmet down on one of the vacant tables. “why are you all staring at me like that?”
the silence doesn’t stop. eyes dart all over the garage, some avoiding her gaze and some staring right at her every couple of seconds.
logan is the first to step forward; the boost from mick prompting an annoyed click of his tongue as he throws his arms into the air. “you uh,” logan blinks at her, “didn’t finish in the points today. how are you feeling?”
she blinks back at him. “i’m,” she trails off and catches oscar’s stare, to which he immediately looks away, “okay?” she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows. “are you guys okay? you’re acting kind of… weird.”
her friends’ consideration for her feelings during this trying time is valid. once upon a time, she couldn’t handle the outcome of her not finishing in the points. she just had — has — so much to prove.
but it’s just one time out of her many races.
liam smiles. “we’re just concerned.”
“well your concern is concerning,” she laughs sheepishly, now tearing the velcro from her neck and unzipping her race suit. “i’m 22 — i can handle my emotions when i finish outside of the points. also, not my first time.”
a lie. she actually wants to start throwing things around. perhaps the steering wheel since it’s the only part of the car that she could actually detach and yank around, unlike others.
but it’s just one race.
“yeah, but we’re just saying,” mick speaks with a smile, “if you need to scream and cry and vent because you were out of the points — you can talk to us.”
“i won’t even take it personally if it was because of the team orders,” liam adds with a grin. “you know what? i’ll even scream with you.”
there’s only one person she wants to scream with right now, and it’s the only person that isn’t directly involved in whatever the hell this is.
“as will i,” logan presses his lips together, “i feel like i need to scream into the void until my lungs give out actually.”
she runs a hand through her hair. “i’m okay,” she holds her hands in the air to stop any more chatter from her friends who decided they know her better than herself. “let’s freshen up and regroup at the mclaren camp. ice cream, right? maybe dinner? oscar made podium — we need to celebrate!”
oscar shakes his head, taking a step forward. “we really don’t have to. it’s okay, it’s not even a big deal.”
“no,” she says firmly, head snapping over to the australian. oscar flinches back at the way she’d turn to him with his hand pressed against his chest. it’s silly that after all these years, he still tries to minimise achievements when she’s not had the share of the glory. “i’ll see you guys in a bit. 40 minutes?” she looks around. “where’s matt?”
“in my garage getting ice cream,” mick smiles. “40 minutes, right?”
“yes,” she mutters, quickly dismissing them as she heads for the exit to the paddocks. “i’ll see you then.”
the air feels thick when she steps into the paddocks. the whispers are louder than they used to be and the stares are boring holes into her again.
a heavy sigh passes her lips as she picks up her feet into a run, heading straight for her racing home. she just needs to be alone; be by herself.
because surely, it can’t get worse than this.
right?
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taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool
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amsznn · 1 day
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Hey can you do one where the reader has a crush on Matt.She is very much giving heart eyes and tries to do anything to make him happy.Matt being oblivious complains to his brother about it.Nick and Chris smack some sense into him saying how lucky he is to have someone like us care about him.Matt disagrees and the reader hears this causing her to stop not wanting to make him uncomfortable.Matt misses the way things use to be and gets jealous when learning the reader is going out on a date.At the end they have an argument and he tells her how he really feels.Lots of angst in the beginning fluff towards the end please!!
OVERBEARING - m. sturniolo
warnings: slight cursing, angst at start, fluff at the end
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-
you couldn’t deny it anymore. and you dont think it went unnoticed either.
the lingering gazes, to the more than normal laughter at hid jokes, or the constant acts of service. how you were willing to do anything for him. just him.
matthew sturniolo.
you thought your constant need to be near him was just you wanting to be better friends. that was until your feelings started growing stronger.
“y/n, helloo.”
you brought your attention to the voice you found yourself loving so much.
“sorry, what?”
“i asked if you could pass the remote.” matt repeated while settling down beside you on the couch. you nodded and reached over to grab the remote to hand it to him. it was around 1 AM, and it was just the two of you. nick and chris had went to their rooms while you and matt decided to watch a movie.
“want me to get you a blanket?” you whispered as matt stared at the screen to the opening of the movie.
“no, im good.” matt says. you nodded and turned your head towards the movie. about five minutes or so passed when you asked another question.
“hungry?”
“nope.” matt responds, adding a ‘pop’ to the p to exaggerate his response. you mumbled an ‘okay’. a few beats of silence passed before once again, you asked.
“are you sure-”
“y/n, please m’ just trying to watch the movie in peace.” matt sighed. he was getting frustrated by the second. after a long day of filming with his relatively loud brothers, the only sounds he wanted to hear were the actors on the tv.
but this was only one example of your persistence. you were always clung to matt’s side. following him like a lost puppy at all times.
always there to cook him up a meal after his long day, willing to do any of his chores that he just didn’t feel like doing, even soothing him to sleep on those tough nights where everything went blank.
nick would sometimes make fun of matt. it almost seemed like you were his mother with the way you acted. but thats not what you were trying to come off as. you simply just had a lot of love for the boy that you weren’t really ready to confess yet.
but for matt? he didn’t see your clinginess as a good thing, in fact he began to hate it once nick pointed it out.
on one particular day matt decided to bring it up to his brothers while they were in nick’s room.
“i just don’t get it, like she’s just always there.” matt says while pacing around the room.
“is that a bad thing?” nick asks while organizing the clothes in his closet.
“i mean it wouldn’t be if she didn’t act like im some sort of child.” matt sighed while plopping down at the edge of the bed.
“i dunno, i’d love to have someone like y/n. she literally does everything for you bro.” chris laughs while slightly nudging matt.
“yeah..” nick yells from his closet. “don’t know why you’re bitchin’ bout it she’s literally helps you with like…” nick took a pause to think. “everything!”
matt scoffs before shaking his head. “yeah well it’s nice before it gets fucking unbearable.”
unbeknownst to matt, you could hear this whole conversation. you had came to drop off some food for the triplets, and since you had an extra key you went straight in. now you would’ve made yourself known until you realized you were the topic of their conversation.
to say you were hurt from matts words was an understatement. you quickly rushed out of the house, tears streaming down your face recounting every scenario where you were overbearing.
-
hours turned into days and days turned into weeks. matt hadn’t heard from you in a while. he expected to wake up to your daily morning texts, but nothing. after he shrugged that off he expected you to come over like you usually did. but once again, you didn’t.
he found himself longing for your presence more than he ever did.
you both went no contact until you came over, seeking nicks assistance since you had a date that night in hopes that your little crush on matt would subside.
you had went the whole time without speaking to the brunette. opting for a simple ‘hey’. matt was confused. why were you suddenly so distant? sure he wanted space at times but this is not what he had in mind.
matt finally snapped when you attempted rushing out their house, bidding matt goodbye with a meek ‘see ya’.
matt rose from his spot on the catch before making his way towards you. “are you gonna tell me what’s going on, or are you gonna keep avoiding me?” matt said while crossing his arms on his chest.
you could only roll your eyes before slipping your shoes on. “i dont know what you’re talking about, but i have to go.” you spat harshly before spinning on your heel.
“woah, what’s up with you?” matt yelled, shocked at your sudden anger towards him. he pulled you back by your wrist so you could face him.
“y’know if you found me ‘overbearing’ you could’ve just told me.”
thats when everything came back to matt. instant regret washed over him as he gazed upon your solemn expression. the same eyes that used to hold so much adoration for him now hollow.
“i’m so sorry y/n. i know theres no excuse to what i said but i was just being stupid.” matt sighed while running a hand down his face. “you’re far from overbearing, in fact i...i really miss you.”
“really?” you mumbled while your facial expression softened. matt nodded before embracing you in a tight hug to which you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his waist. your date long forgotten.
“you’re amazing the way you are, and im sorry if i made it seem any other way.”
you smiled at matts words before leaning up to look at him. “just tell me next time, okay?” matt smiled and lightly pecked the side of your temple. happy to have finally gotten you back.
the version of you he loved.
and the version of you he would always cherish.
-
A/N: sorry this should’ve came out yesterday but i had to study for an exam. i have also been experiencing writers block but i have a new matt series in mind so stay on the look out for that!
tags:
@junnniiieee07 @tillies33ssss @whore4matt @stellarsturns @summerl986 @inveigledvex @beccaluvschris @stingerayyy2 @bunnysturns @braindead4l @vickyzloserz @sturnzsblog
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yandere-aventurine · 2 days
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I've been thinking about this a lot after reading your works since he's a captor in most of your original works--
What do you think about Aventurine with a Darling that has a Stockholm Syndrome? Will he be more thrilled or will he got a little disappointed at the adrenaline lost? The chances of this occurrence is really low too, but he'll start to digest that his darling tend to lean more to his touches. Less fights and such, or maybe she starts to question him more if he went out for an extended amount of period, "Where were you last week?"
She starts to understand that maybe he's right, he loves her and being locked up inside his house is for the best. I mean, Darling's entertainment would probably be books at most, and seeing him starts to be the highlight of the day. He did treat her well, didn't he? There's no proof that Aventurine is doing any harm to her!
The lines are starting to get fuzzy and blurred for her and she unconsciously wait for him to play more games with her, or simply have a dinner with him. He'll finally notice that he has his most loved ones waiting for him back at home.
Also this would count as my second request/asks so feel free to ignore too!!
Aaaa I’m so glad to see you in my inbox again! You’re welcome to send anything any time! ✨ I really love to hear from you and do your requests!
Warnings: Fem reader, Noncon themes, noncon touching and kissing, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome back to noncon, mentions of manipulation from reader but it's just Aventurine being like "what if she's just doing this so I give her what she wants" and not actually, reader is baby, and mentions of her having a loving family (in case that's upsetting for anyone)
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You may be a bird trapped in a cage, but that wouldn’t stop you from trying to fly in the cramped space that you do have.
You find that after being caged for an extended period of time, even the most wild of animals will yearn for the artificial light provided by its captor. It may not compare to the light of the sun itself, but there is a strange sort of comfort to find in it nevertheless. You will find yourself admiring the ceiling painted blue with clouds like the sky, and before you know it, you forget there was ever a difference between your artificial reality and the real outside world itself.
The indoor garden becomes as real to you as actually walking among the trees. And it isn’t long before Aventurine’s affection for you is treated the same way. Yes, this may be an artificial love, a mockery of a real connection between lovers, one that he forced, but it becomes as real to you as that mural on the ceiling he crafted to comfort you.
In the beginning, he thinks when you return his hugs and kisses when he gets home, that you must want something from him and you’re doing it just to manipulate him and get what you want out of him.
He thinks you’re lying when you tell him that you missed him while he was gone.
But he decided he doesn’t care, because any amount of affection he receives is worth the price of whatever you wanted in return.
Aventurine moves to strip you of your clothes after another long and hard day at work, and for the first time, you don’t push him away or fight him.
For the first time, you kiss him back just as fiercely as his tongue tangles with yours, fighting his for dominance as if you could ever truly overpower him.
You don’t cry when he removes your panties and shoves his fingers between your slit, swirling them around and getting them coated with your wetness. Aventurine finds himself smirking with satisfaction at how wet you already are. Normally, he has to force it out of you, rub at your clit until you’re screaming and squirming in his hold, fighting him like your life depends on it. 
It always ends the same way. Before long, you’re dripping and wet and needy for him, no matter how much of a fight you put up.
But this time your body has responded to him of your own free will, from just a little bit of kissing.
As if you were waiting for this moment all day.
“You finally gave in, didn’t you?” He asks in total disbelief, breathing a sigh of relief as he frees himself from his pants. His heart feels warm and fuzzy at the realization. 
You nod slowly, “I… I think I’m in love with you.” And he sees no dishonesty in your eyes or expression, you’re telling him the truth.
And his heart soars. You can finally act like real lovers together. No more fighting, no more tears, just true love and pure pleasure together.
Aventurine pulls you so close, so your body is pressed right up against his.
He’s over the moon, he’s so overjoyed he feels like he’s going to explode, he can’t contain the pure happiness this has brought him. It feels like you’ve been presented to him like a little present wrapped up in bows.
For weeks, he’s showering you with all the affection he had to force on you before. Completely unrestrained, the two of you don’t spend a second apart, and go at it like bunnies. And you gladly accept it, you lean into his touch and whimper and pant and moan for him like a good girl, and you even agree that being locked inside is the best thing for you and for him.
And then as months go on, the willing submission slowly loses a bit of its spark.
He still loves you, of course. He would never stop loving you. He loves you with all his heart and soul, more than anything and anyone. He’s so happy that you’re finally returning his feelings and affection without a fight, but… He starts to realize that some part of him enjoyed the way you would fight back, the way you would kick and scream and fight him and try to get away during sex.
It feels like his heart and his dick are at war, because while his heart is so happy that you love him back, or at least as much as you can in this situation, his dick unfortunately… craves to feel you fighting against him. He realizes it’s a desire born from pure physical arousal, an almost animalistic instinct, and that’s all it is.
But he wants it. He craves it. So, so badly.
So he tries to ignite the fight in you again, the flame of rebellion. He grows bolder and more touchy with you, he doesn’t even greet you before he’s ripping off your clothes when he gets home. Anything to try to get you to react negatively. But much to his surprise, you giggle and return his affection tenfold.
The gears are clicking in his head as he formulates a plan so he can have that game of chase, to play predator and prey with you once again.
Aventurine leans in so close, so close that his lips brush against your ear as he speaks, 
“The doors are all unlocked.
Let’s play a game, if you can escape the house before I catch you, I’ll let you go~”
As if that wasn’t enough, he slips in your hands a picture of your family. And not just one of the ones you brought here with you, this is a current picture. Of what they look like today, that you had no idea about. The people you love so much that you haven’t seen in years, who probably all thought you were dead.
“And since I’m feeling nice, I’ll give you a ten second head start.” And that’s all it takes to revive the fight in you. You’re ripping yourself out of his arms, you’re bolting for the door, you’re crying hysterically as you run through the giant maze he’s trapped you in.
For the first time in so long your loving home looks like the prison it truly is once again.
Your loving boyfriend is twisted back into the image of a monster keeping you trapped here.
And Aventurine laughs and feels the adrenaline coursing through his veins at your reaction.
Aventurine feels his dick throb at the sound of terror that rips out of you.
There it is.
“Ten…”
Dancing in those beautiful eyes of his is the sadistic glee of a predator, as he watches you run for your life and your freedom.
“Nine… Eight… Seven….”
All of your hopes and dreams are hinging on this, the merciful head start he gave you.
“Six… Five… Four…”
And he can’t wait to dash those hopes and rip them away from you all over again.
“Three… Two…”
He can’t wait to pounce on you and feel you fight underneath him once more, to feel your fear spark pleasure down his spine.
“One~”
The chase has only just begun.
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Text
Get me out of here - Lewis Hamilton
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Request: "I enjoy reading your posts so much, I wanted to maybe request? I love angst, maybe a Lewis one shot where the reader gets in the cross fire in the media kind of like Kate Middleton but with the Ferrari news?" - anon
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!
warnings: Angst, Lewis to Ferrari, Toto being an ass.
wordcount: +1k
a/n: Hi anon, thank you for the request and the support, it means the world! I loved writing that, but then again I love me some angsty, hope you like it ❤️.
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
______________________________________________________________
“You bastard, how could you?”
You entered the farm style house in the English countryside seeing red. Newspaper on hand and phone on the other, blazing through the formal reception rooms until you found Toto and Lewis talking in the sunroom at the back.
“Woah there, what’s that language?”
“I thought I could trust you Toto” Your voice coming out stronger and louder than even you expected, facing him to see it in his eyes he knew exactly what all this was about. You couldn’t help but whisper, almost to yourself “Gosh, I really did.”
“What’s going on? Why are you shouting?” Lewis interjected as he got up and headed towards you, his arms reaching for your waist to try and calm you down
“Ask him! I’m not the one who gave the damn interview.”
“I didn’t say it like that, you know how they twist our words” The Austrian reasoned as you paced in the room
“Enough you two. What the hell is going on?” Susie emerged from the adjoining room, still in her workout clothes, towel in hand.
You threw the paper on the desk in front of them, eyeing Toto as Lewis read the headline “Source of Ferrari’s leak: Toto’s former right-hand and Lewis’ girl”
“You thought I wouldn’t see it? That I wouldn’t know that you told the press I leaked about Ferrari ?!” Exasperation written in your eyes as you tried to understand why would Toto sell you out like that.
“C’mom, it’ll blow over. By Barhein no one will even remember” His german accent echoed through the room as he tried to impose himself
“You tried to throw me under the bus for someone you’re clearly trying to cover for, that’s the issue here”
“Who sold the story to the press, Toto?” This time it was Lewis’ voice that cut the air, his tone stern and demanding.
“Does it even matter? He clearly has more respect for whoever it was than he does for me.” Your voice full of disdain throwing Toto off as he looked at you with surprise in his eyes at the tone you were using.
“Don’t be like that.” Susie pleaded from the corner, still as confused as Lewis to the events unfolding.
“Why?! Does it hurt him? I can guarantee it doesn’t hurt as much as it did when I read that stupid interview” Your voice coming out in sharp pufs as you tried to hold back the tears that fought hard to fall.
“Toto, who told the press?” Lewis pressed him once again and you were about to blow out at him when you heard the Austrian confessing “I told them.”
Your head starting spinning and all you could do was march back to the car in the driveway, not really listening to anything they were trying to get through to you. You started the car while Lewis tried to talk you out of driving, his pleading shouts heard through the glazed windows.
Your sobs came out all at once when Lewis managed to get into the passenger seat and hold your trembling hands down, getting them away from the steering wheel and into his chest for you to feel his heartbeat, your frantic eyes finally finding his soothing ones.
“Get me out of here, please” was all you could whisper mid sobs, sliding to the other seat when Lewis jumped out to get to the other side, your peripheral vision catching a glimpse of the commotion in the doorsteps of the house, with Toto exasperatedly motion to a now infuriating Susie and a few other people.
It felt like hours before Lewis pulled over, a small countryside village in the distance and a herd of sheep around. One of his hands gripped the leather of the seat, his free hand smoothing your arm and his stare focused on the road ahead.
“He did it to protect the brand. They’re gonna have a whole year to bring George forward, to switch things around…”
“Why are you defending him?” You cut him mid-sentence; your voice toneless although your eyes showed your emotions were all over the place.
“Because we need to think this through, babe. Toto’s not one of us anymore, you saw it.” He turned to you, clutching your hand into his, breathing in before continuing.
“We can’t expect anything from him anymore, least of all you.” His stare pierced yours and you knew what he meant.
You and Toto had known each other for as long as Lewis had. You had made your way up from being just an intern all the way to actually being poached by AMG and then Daimler, the whole path closely followed by Toto’s advices, and even in the years you lived in Germany the F1 GPs were always a familiar home you got to come back to, because of Lewis and Toto.
“Why did he say it was me though?” You questioned after getting out of the car and sitting by a rock fence, your voice small, much like how you felt while you leaned into Lewis’ embrace.
“To get back at me, maybe?! I really don’t know.” He breathed out after a while, leaving a kiss on your head before looking out at the fields in front of you two. It was a typical English day, cold and humid but at least the sun tried to fight its way through the clouds.
“I’m sorry he made you feel like you had to leave” you looked up at him as you brought up the subject, it was still a sore one for him.
“I always thought I’d finish my career there” He didn’t look at you as he mumbled his response, his gaze lost to the horizon
“It’s going to be a long year, isn’t it?!” You thought out loud after a while of silence and just feeling each other’s breathing.
“Yeah… and I need you there, by my side, head held high” This time he turned to look at you, loving doe stare embracing you in his warmth, no idea what the future holds but sure he will be there.
______________________________________________________________
TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk
If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.
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theemporium · 12 hours
Note
A number 15 green-eyed mojito with Nico💚
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
15. "What would I be jealous about?”
.
“You’re staring.” 
“I’m observing.”
“If looks could kill, he would be dead.”
“Tragic.” 
“Oh my god,” Jack grumbled under his breath, shooting his captain a concerned look before shaking his head. “Remind me not to piss you off.” 
Nico rolled his eyes. “You piss me off quite often, actually.”
“I—” Jack paused, his eyes narrowing as he lightly jabbed his side with his elbow. “One, that was rude. Two, you need to calm down. You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend and you aren’t even her boyfriend. You’re just the jealous part.”
Nico scoffed, but he didn’t tear his eyes away from you. 
Because, as much as it pained him to admit, Jack was right. He was acting like a jealous boyfriend and he was fully aware of that. But it wasn’t like self-awareness couldn’t exactly stop the bitter feelings bubbling in the pit of his stomach as he watched the man openly flirt with you. 
“You know,” Jack continued, something quite like amusement in his voice. “This wouldn’t be a problem if you just grew the balls to ask her out.” 
And he hated that Jack was right again. 
The crush he had been harbouring on you was obvious to everyone with a pair of working eyes. Or at least, everyone except you. Since the day you started on the team, Nico had been all lovesick smiles and longing gazes, practically throwing himself at any social media opportunity he could just so he could spend time with you. It was a little embarrassing and pathetic, all things considered. 
But the worst part was that it had been a better part of two years and Nico had made no move to confess his feelings towards you.
Which then led to moments like now, where Nico had no real reason to feel as irritated as he was over some guy from the media team flirting with you.
“Shut up,” was all he managed to mutter out.
“This is actually really sad to watch,” Jack muttered before sighing deeply. “Just know that I’m doing this because, as your friend and alternate, I’m worried about you possibly breaking your jaw before making a move.”
Nico frowned a little. “What are you—”
But before Nico could even stop whatever stupid move Jack was going to pull, he was calling out your name and waving his hands in such an exaggerated and overly dramatic manner that Nico felt his cheeks heating up. 
“I hate you,” Nico muttered under his breath as you began making your way over.
“You’re about to hate me so much more but I know you love me,” Jack whispered back before he grinned at you, the words leaving his mouth so quick that Nico almost thought he imagined it when the younger boy said, “Nico is jealous.” 
And then, the fucker was running off and leaving a gaping Nico in the dust to deal with the consequences.
You blinked in surprise before you turned to the boy. “You’re jealous?” 
“Me? Jealous? What would I be jealous about?” Nico attempted to laugh off, but it was forced and dry and it didn’t quite land the way he wanted to when he noticed your brows furrowing in concern. “Jack is just messing about, don’t listen to him.”
“Really?” You questioned, watching as Nico quickly nodded in response. “So it has nothing to do with the fact you have spent the last fifteen minutes glaring at Thomas?” 
Nico blinked, feeling the blush spread from his cheeks to the tip of his ears. “Uh—”
“For what it’s worth, I’m not interested in him,” you said.
“Oh.” He couldn’t bring himself to care how happy he sounded, how hopeful.
“I’m interested in someone else,” you continued.
“Oh.” The disappointment was clear and heavy in his voice, inklings of the previous jealousy sinking into his response.
“You might know him,” you added, trying to bite back your smile when you watched his nose scrunch up. “He’s a hockey player, has a cute accent and pretty brown eyes. Think he might even be the captain or something.” 
Blood roared in his ears and he was pretty sure his smile was going to split his cheeks, but he didn’t care. “Really?”
“Yeah, but he’s a little blind,” you teased, almost looking a little bashful despite the unwavering confidence in your voice. “I’ve been waiting for him to ask me out but he hasn’t been catching my hints.”
“He sounds a little stupid,” Nico murmured. Maybe he would’ve felt embarrassed if his heart didn’t feel like it was about to beat out of his own chest. “But I bet he’s wondering if you’re free at seven tonight.”
“Let him know it’s a date,” you said, grinning right back at him.
.
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dazai-ritualist · 15 hours
Text
“DO YOU THINK YOU’LL KILL FOR ME ONE DAY?” YES, OF COURSE I WILL, MY DARLING.
— manipulating yan!alastor + yan!vox was easy. after all, he’s a huge softie for you.
— lots of cursing + sex mention! (vox)
— lol!! after u read voxxy’s part, did u notice i said worse instaf of wordt? im super good at eng! 😈😈
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— yan!alastor
you’d been acting out at this club for some time now— breaking property, starting a fight, and even lighting a fire. that last one did it for the owner, he finally banned you from the place, kicking you out indefinitely.
unfortunate, since it was your hangout spot for all kinds of mischief. perhaps— just maybe, there’d be a way to weasel your way back in? or, if not that, at least make him suffer.
a sniff came from you as you teared up, wondering about where else to have your fun. “ohh, my darling, is something the matter? you can tell me, i’ll make that problem go away.” alastor said as he walked into the hotel’s leisure room, his hand patting your back.
you tried to get the words out of your mouth, but it was simply too hard to breathe with the tears that poured down your face. “take your time, my doe… it’s okay.” alastor cooed with a slightly patronizing tone, as if he was the one in control right now.
“s-some club-owner… h-he called me degrading names, and then… he kicked me out…” you frowned at alastor, sniffing every now and then. “my doe, what exactly did he call you?” alastor asked, his voice slightly losing the static as well as having a more sinister edge.
as you listed the names the man had ‘called’ you, alastor pulled you closer to him as his anger began to boil. “it’s alright, my darling. a club with an owner like that is not worth it.” he smiled widely, brushing your hair gingerly before he planted a kiss on your forehead.
“besides, you’ll never see this man ever again. say, what did you say the name of this club was?” he asked before you whispered the club name to him. “i see… well, my little doe, it turns out that i must teach this man a lesson.” alastor stood up as his anger manifested into his body, elongating his limbs.
“you’re gonna kill him on radio? just… be kind… no one deserves a painful death.” you frowned in fake empathy. that fake empathy which would motivate alastor’s anger even more. “oh, dear, you are just too kind for hell. this man disrespected your honor, it’s simply fair that he receives something equally as humiliating.”
his hand rested on your chin, kissing you one last time before he left to find this disrespectful sinner. “now, if you’ll excuse me… someone has to be taught some manners. i assure you, love, that i’ll return by… dinnertime.” he promised before heading out the hotel, prepared to rip this man’s soul out of his body and make an example out of him for any other sinner who even dares to disrespect his little doe.
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— yan!vox
are you the problem? nah, couldn’t be possible. if you were the problem, you wouldn’t have this lovely man as your boyfriend, now would you?
“ugh, then that bitch fucking unfollowed me! i don’t even know what i did to that fucker.” you sighed dramatically, frowning to your boyfriend through the facetime. “honestly, i don’t even know what you saw in her. you’re better off without, babe.” vox shrugged.
“and!! you wanna know the worst part?!?” you yelled out, face scrunching in pure dislike. “and what’s that?” vox asked. “that little bitch is yapping all over the city about you and i.” you rolled your eyes.
“ah..? she is? what exactly is she saying?” vox grunted as he glowed in anger. “she was ah… calling me your escort or whatever…” you scowled.
“tch, whatever! i’ll get over it— or, something.” you sighed, falling into your chair, as you closely eyed vox’s expression.
"aha... i'm glad you can let things go so easily, dear... now, i’d love to stay in call a bit longer, but i really have to take care of some important business right now." vox grunted, flying a quick yet lovely kiss to you before he ended the call.
okay, none of that happened— at least most of it didn’t happen. that girl... she was just pretty fucking annoying, always whining about how badly she wants to get fucked, jesus... close your fucking legs for once, yeah?
to be fair, on her own part, she was quite powerful. so, killing her yourself wasn't exactly a good option. instead, why not get your boyfriend to do it?
best case scenario, vox kills her, nothing else. worse case, vox simply hypnotizes her into selling her soul to him. ugh, imagine seeing that bitch's face everyday.
then again, you'd see her all sad and pathetic everyday cause she sold her freedom away.
either way, it's not looking too well for her.
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leonw4nter · 21 hours
Note
could you do a fic for re4 leon where he and fem!reader are in a relationship (secret bc they can’t let the agency find out) they are on the spain mission together and luis starts flirting with her and its taking everything in leon for for him to not say “thats my girlfriend” or something like that?
sorry if this is specific i just thought of it in the middle of class
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Music For Two People in A Secret Relationship
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RE4R!Leon x F!Agent!Reader
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Leon is a stickler for the rules. Well, he was– he made sure that he followed the rules he was made to obey, even when he didn’t exactly agree with them. One fine training day, you lunged at him with a combat knife, a deadly fire in your eyes and he felt the ground beneath him shift. He had to move and dodge away from the next offense, even if he wanted to give himself time to admire you. You moved like a panther, your gaze much more penetrating than the blade you held in a reverse saber grip; you embodied one too, light footfalls as you circled him before pouncing with your claws out towards the man in front of you. If giving in to the calling of his heart is a crime then he’d gladly be an outlaw.
Here he is now, dancing around the rules in order to be your boyfriend; twisting, bending, and extending his will to resist the temptation to hold your hand in the walls of the USSTRATCOM headquarters, proudly referring to you as “his” and for him to hear you call him “yours” towards colleagues and higher-ups. He had to settle for the tension-filled stares across the briefing room, the kinds of looks that set off sparks in his chest, and the electric accidental brushes of his finger against yours as he reaches for something.
Although Valdelobos is everything but idyllic, he’s thankful for the opportunity to be with you despite this decrepit village being another reminder of Raccoon City; he wouldn’t want to relive Raccoon City again but it’s less triggering for him because he���s with you … and a certain Spanish gentleman with a penchant of flirting with his girlfriend; he didn’t trust the man one bit but what choice did he have? The man held vital information regarding the villagers and Umbrella; a former scientist, Luis claimed. Despite him being a little different from the usual scientists behind BOWs, he seemed to know a lot regarding the cult and the parasite– Las Plagas. Charming and charismatic too, the perfect man all in all. He also served as the brains behind the group, oddly familiar with the puzzle mechanisms that the Los Illuminados employed.
Now, all of you were stuck in this misty baroque ballroom somewhere in Salazar’s palace. As soon as everyone was inside the room, the big wooden doors closed and several locks were heard clicking in place. Silence followed, Ashley huddled in the middle by you, Leon, and Luis’ bodies as you formed a protective circle. The fact that silence followed and not the groans and cultic chanting unsettled everyone, unused to this odd peace. After a few moments of guns being out, Luis’ Red 9 is holstered back into its brown leather confines.
“Do you smell that,” he softly whispers. “The rusty air. This ballroom was an old bastion for the Los Illuminados, held their sacrifices here but albeit more… morbid. Sacrifices were released like bulls in a bullpen, they all tried to escape while trying not to die on the way– had to escape booby traps and avoid stepping on the wrong tiles. There’s a lot more with the trap system they set up and they’re all elaborate.”
The atmosphere that hung over everyone was heavy and miserable now that Luis had to point out the history behind the room. No one stepped foot away from where they were standing, afraid to trigger something to fly out and impale someone.
“What ballroom is this,” Ashley asks.
“The Birdcage,” Luis responds. “La Jaula de Pájaros.”
“I’ve read somewhere about certain macabre ballrooms being connected to cult hide-outs and traps and usually, the ways to beat those traps is somehow connected to culture like dances and poems,” she begins to explain. “Basically, we might need to dance or make music to make it out alive for this one. Just like… just like a bird. Wait– this place’s name is ‘birdcage’ so we have to escape like birds by means of making music and moving around like how birds chirp and fly!”
“Make music? How exactly,” you ask.
“Rhythmic tapping might be one of them,” Luis suggests.
You look at the people around you, eyebrows meeting in the middle as their foreheads crease in focus and worry. Leon bent down and observed the ground, calloused fingers grazing over the cracked tiles. With each lengthy swipe of his finger, he noticed that the imprints on the ground had a pattern. He leaned closer to the ground and observed what looked like musical notes; he turned to the ground Ashley stood on and noted the same patterns of notes and symbols used.
“There’s musical notations on the ground, maybe we can use that for the rhythm of our tapping,” Leon informs the group. “Who here can read music–”
“I can,” you interrupt. You bend down, fingers skimming over the etching. After a few seconds of remembering which notes sounded a certain way, you get back up and relay the information you just got. You get everyone’s attention and start humming the tune before softly stomping your boots on the ground, asking everyone else to follow along to make sure that they remember the beat.
“Uh guys,” Ashley speaks up. “We have to start soon.”
She points to the ceiling, several ganados kept in cages dangling overhead. The ceilings may be high from where you all stood, but there was nothing separating your group and them. With a determined yet wary nod, you nod to Luis. He approaches you and bows, to which you respond with. He slowly places his hand on your waist, the other gently holding your gloved hand. You glance at Leon, seeing him do the same with Ashley with the placements of his hand in areas that don't make Ashley feel uncomfortable. You give Leon another nod, signifying the start of the dance. Your pair and Leon’s slowly drift to opposite parts of the room, dancing a fierce tango with rhythmic footfalls. You could dance but not in this way and you were lucky that Luis was there to guide you. In the drop of the beat, he spun you and for a quick moment you saw Leon glance at your direction before turning his gaze back to Ashley and making sure he doesn’t mess up his part and involve Ashley in whatever fuck-up he might make. You wouldn’t admit this to Luis but you wished that it was Leon who was spinning and dipping you, that it was the large hand of Leon’s that was perched on your waist. Maybe you’d like to go dancing with Leon once this shit is all over, maybe invite Luis too but you’ll spend most of the evening slow dancing with Leon when you’ve both had one too many drinks. You knew that Leon felt the same based on the gawking Leon unintentionally does, those types of gawks that once you blink, you’d miss and assume that you were just seeing things differently. As much as Leon admitted that Luis was a gifted dancer to his standards, he wished that he could just swoop in and swing you around, to feel your hand around his neck and for you to gaze up dreamily at you when he dips your body. It doesn’t take long for you to get into the dance, the twirls and spins along with the echo of the taps of shoes helping you get into the feel of dancing even though this dance could very much determine whether or not everyone will make it out of this ballroom.
After a few minutes of dancing, all of you finish the beat and you hear a faint click. The eyes and mouth of a tarnished Tarasca statue moves, its neck opening to reveal an ornate conical capsule. Hastily, you run to the statue and take the capsule and twist it open. An intricate copper key falls out.
“We might be able to get out of this,” Leon points out. Hurriedly, he runs to the doors and inserts the piece of metal to the keyhole.
“Careful, Sancho. This thing is brittle,” Luis reminds him. “All that dancing will be for nothing if the key snaps while it’s inside!”
“I know what I’m doing,” your partner seethes.
The faint sound of the door lock’s mechanisms clicking to unlock causes everyone to breathe a sigh of relief, Leon pushing the doors open to let everyone out before himself. You mouth a small thank you to him, to which he responds with a small smile. He finally gets out and urges everyone to run, since the cages holding the ganados were being lowered. After a few minutes, everyone is now out of the palace. All of you stop by the ruins of an old stone house, sinking to the ground to catch your breath.
“Hah… D-didn’t know… hah… you looked lovely in pink,” Luis points out with a tired yet smug smirk bringing a finger up to motion to the flush in your cheeks. “Etérea.”
The Spaniard doesn’t miss the way the blond’s gaze slightly darkens, moving to you as he places a hand on your back as you still catch your breath. You look at Leon as he asks if you’re okay, to which you give him a small smile and a thumbs-up. Leon withdraws his hand from your back to radio back to Hunnigan, giving her information on where you just came from and how everyone’s doing. Since you managed to catch your breath, you check on Ashley who’s doing a lot better now. You offer her the remaining water in your flask, to which she gulped down audibly.
“Water never tasted so divine, holy crap,” she exclaimed as she handed you your flask back.
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────
Since you and Leon were unsure of the safety of the area, you decided that it would be best for you to start moving somewhere less dangerous. Ashley was growing tired, grumbling about her feet hurting but she was still soldering on, walking without breaks. Luis’ chatter made the trip less boring, occasionally talking to Ashley and then flirting with you. After seeing Leon’s subtle reaction to him complimenting your flushed cheeks after running, the cheeky side of Luis decided to flirt with you some more to see how far he can push the reserved and stoic man.
“Hey,” Luis begins. “After all this, what do you say to a little Spanish countryside getaway? You and me.”
“Sounds nice,” you say. “But I’ve got a little night out scheduled with someone when I get back.”
“You aren’t exactly saying ‘no’.”
“I’m going to have to confirm this with my boyfriend. You’re a chill man but I still have to let my man know.”
Luis simply chuckles, his steps slowing down so he’ll fall in step with Leon who is busy craning his head here and there, trying to spot any threat before a possible threat spots you. Well, this is only half true. As soon as he heard Luis proposing the future prospect of him showing off the Spanish countryside to you, he forced himself to pay attention to something else other than the fact that you’re smiling and laughing softly at the Spaniard. The agent brushes whatever he heard off, knowing that his girlfriend loves him and only him but the fact that he can’t do much, especially that their relationship isn’t exactly encouraged at their agency and the fact that they’re both at work; he’s relieved that you aren’t returning his flirting. All he can afford to do is to ask if you’re fine by masking it behind the simple concern for a coworker and nothing more. 
“How’re you holding up, Sancho Panza,” Luis whispers to which Leon responds with silence.
“Ah, I think I know why you’re silent,” the chatty man beside him observes. “It’s because… you like her!”
Leon stops in his tracks and looks at Luis with a slightly baffled expression, head tilted with his eyes slightly squinted before proceeding to walk again, the squelch of his boots against mud resuming again.
“I know just the remedy to this, Leon,” Luis excitedly begins, lowering his voice just before he continues the rest of his sentence. “Y’know, I know a nice bar somewhere in Madrid. Good drinks, good music. I’m sure she’d love it there.”
Leon stays silent again but mentally notes the ‘good drinks, good music’. It would be nice to take her somewhere upbeat.
“But if that’s getting a bit too ahead of our current predicament then you can offer to tend to her wounds, best done in the evening when the night is cold and the fire is the only thing keeping us warm. It’s a sincere tender moment, just imagine it: you, her, and the rustling of trees. She–”
“She’s my girlfriend. I’ve done plenty of that and more so she’d go out with me,” Leon interrupts.
Luis freezes on the spot, eyes the size of golf balls, with his mouth ajar. Leon simply smirks and scoffs at the sight, trudging on. After a few moments, Luis comes rushing back to him. Luis is just staring at him, going off at him in Spanish while he just continues walking and tries to hide a smug grin. Luis wraps up on whatever he was saying, now staring back and forth at you and him before walking a little faster to join you and Ashley several steps ahead. The usual cocky expression makes its way back to Luis’ face, shooting you and Leon a knowing look now before chuckling along. Moments later, Leon decides to speed up walking to be able to catch up with everyone. He hears Ashley and Luis exchanging jokes with you occasionally laughing and butting in with your own. Out of the blue, Leon nonchalantly wraps an arm around your waist, much to Luis and Ashley’s shock.
“Ash, don’t tell HQ about this,” you whisper with a wicked grin before getting on your tiptoes and planting a kiss on Leon's cheek.
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NOTE - Thanks to the lovely anon that requested this, I hope you enjoyed reading this :) I had a lot more fun writing this since I had to think a little more than I usually do when I write (if it makes sense), especially for the ballroom part of the fic. I'll try to write for other versions of Leon soon since I mostly write about RE2 Leon. Also, does anyone know the manga 'Veil' ?? I've recently (yesterday) got into it and now I'm hoping that physical copies are being sold where I live... Aleksander is cute I'll say that (I NEED AN ALEKSANDER IN MY LIFE IM SO ALONE AND SINGLE RIGHT NOW- SINGLE SINCE BIRTH EVEN). Anyways, that's it and thank you soo much for reading my fics!! I <3333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The dividers are made by @benkeibear , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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cameronspecial · 1 day
Note
I saw you were looking for some angst ideas lmao
So rafe and reader are together. Loves her more than life but his addiction gets in the way of that. One night they have a fuming argument and she doesn’t talk to him for a few days. He then makes a plan for them to talk about it somewhere private at nighttime, but when she shows up he’s not there. She waits for him for a while then she gets attacked by the rafes dealers because he owes them money and she was the next bet. Rafe finds her and he’s freaking out but she won’t let him near her and she blames him. You can choose how this ending goes or if you even want to write this but this has been on my mind
You Deserve Better
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Stabbing, Blood, and Death
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.1K
Masterlist
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The centre of Rafe’s life wasn’t always the white powder that tumbled around the little Ziploc bag that lined his pockets. His centre is supposed to snort or wheeze a little whenever she laughs, refusing to use her inhaler because she doesn’t want to embarrass him. It will stay up past her bedtime because she is in a flow with her work. His sun crosses her eyeballs whenever he presses a kiss on her nose because she knows it would make him chuckle. Y/N Y/L/N used to be his rock and now, all because of an accident, she isn’t anymore. That is something not a lot of people know. They assume his addiction started because he was a bored rich kid who had the money to spare. However, in reality, it began with a torn ACL. One wrong shift of his leg and his football career was over. At first, the oxycodone was only to manage the pain from the ACL surgery. He had the hope that he could recover the way he needed to get back on the field, but then the news came that he wasn’t progressing the way his doctor wanted… That was when the problem started, suddenly the drug he was taking to help ease his physical pain became the one to take away his mental pain too. The pain of not being able to play football. The pain of missing out. The pain of not knowing where his life was going.
Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was by his side the whole time, except a person can’t be everything to someone else and he needed a therapist. He just wasn’t ready to admit that. It was only when he stopped being prescribed oxycodone that he turned to cocaine to fill the mental hole the prescription used to be for.
———
Rafe’s blown pupils are hidden by his eyelids as he lies back on the couch. Y/N is still out with her friends, so he isn’t sleeping. Not when she is not at home. The front door opening and closing makes him jerk forward. His eyelids are just a sliver because the light from the ceiling is too bright for him. Her footsteps approach the living room and the large sigh she lets out makes her arrival known. “You didn’t do the dishes,” she states, her hand resting on her jut-out hip. “And the hole in the hallway is still there.” Yesterday, Rafe, in a high state, accidentally made a hole in the wall when trying to put up a picture frame for her. He promised her before she left for work this morning that he would get what he needed to fix it this morning and in the afternoon, he would fix it. However, before he could get himself to the store, he saw a post from one of his old football teammates, who went pro and he spiralled. 
He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, yet it happens and this causes her to let out another huff. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store,” he grumbles like he didn’t care. He really did though. He wanted to be able to do something that simple for the girl who meant everything to him, except his mind seemed to disagree with his heart. It is easier to pretend it doesn’t bother him. Her eyes narrow in on the residue of powder on their coffee table, “Let me guess, you got your nose caught up in some business. Rafe, you promised me you wouldn’t do that shit at home.” He can’t keep looking at the way tears start to appear because he knows how worried she gets when he does drugs, always scared he might overdose. He looks anywhere but at her. “Don’t get on my ass about this again Y/N. You don’t know what I am dealing with,” he argues.
“I don’t and that’s the problem. You need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you keep doing what you are doing now.”
“Seriously, we are going to argue about this again because I didn’t do the dishes or fix a little hole in the wall.”
“No, we are going to argue about it because you aren’t the man I fell in love with anymore and I don’t think if I can do this anymore. I want to be by your side to help you get better but if you don’t want to, then I don’t know if I can be here forever.”
Her words hit his ears at the same intensity as they would if he were sitting next to an airplane engine. They had arguments about his sobriety so many times before, yet those fights always had the underlying understanding that she would be there to help him. She never once mentioned the possibility of her leaving him because she truly did want to help him find his sobriety. His mouth falls open to talk. No words come out. How can he possibly swear that he wants to get better when he isn’t at the self-realization point in his journey? She takes the silence as an admittance that getting clean isn’t on his mind. “I need some time apart. I’m going to sleep at Deliah’s place tonight,” she informs, turning to leave. He doesn’t stop her; he wants to give her the space she needs in hopes that she realizes she can hold on for a little bit longer. The only word he can respond with is “Okay”, right before she closes the door behind her. 
———
She hasn’t answered any of his texts and calls. Her night of taking some space turned into a week and it is driving him crazy. Her non-existence return may have to do with his unwillingness to agree to go to a therapist. After the thousandth attempt at calling her, she finally answers the call. “Normally, when a person doesn’t pick up the call, it means they don’t want to talk to you.” He lets out an internal sigh, “I know, I just need to talk to you. Please, can we meet at our spot, Sunshine?” She could never resist the usage of his nickname for her. “Okay, meet me there in an hour,” she agrees. The call drops right after her response and he gives himself a small smile. Not only does he get to see her again, he gets to try to get her back. 
———
By the time she realizes she is being followed, she is alone under the bleachers, where she and Rafe used to spend their time in high school. It was where they found themselves when they didn’t feel like going to class or they needed to get away from the chaos after his team won a game. It was the place she fell in love with him in because even before they were dating when they were just friends, it was their spot. She spins around at the sound of grass being pressed down by a set of feet, ready to scold him for being late. It isn’t Rafe as she expected; instead, an average-height man with a dangerous air that scares her. The gleam behind his eyes tells her the bald man is up to no good, which is confirmed when he pulls out the hunting knife from his hoodie pocket. She steps back in an attempt to get away from him, but her back hits against a metal beam. The man rushes toward her and presses the sharp edge against the soft skin of her neck. “Your boy owes me money and since he is taking too long to get it back to me, I thought I would hold onto something precious to him until I get what I want,” the man explains with a wicked grin. She refuses to show him fear and looks him dead in the eyes, “Rafe’s dealer is Barry so I have no idea what you are talking about.” “He stopped going to Barry because Barry started getting on his case about how much he is using,” the male growled, not enjoying the bite to her bark. She chuckles like a maniac, “When Rafe comes, he is going to beat your ass.” “Shut up, Bitch.” Angered by his words, her knees find their target between his legs. 
He lets out a howl and doubles over in pain. She uses this as her opportunity to attempt an escape, trying to run past him. Unfortunately, he reaches out to stop her and this results in the blade driving into her abdomen. A gasp passes her lips, causing the dealer to look in her direction. “Shit.” His eyes bloom open and immediately begins to pull it out. “No. Don’t pu-,” she warns, except it is too late. The weapon is already out and he is running toward the exit. She hunches forward and stumbles back against the beam, pressing her hand to her stomach to keep from bleeding out, feeling as though she has been punched. Calling 911 seems to be the logical answer; however, when she goes for her phone, she finds it broken on the floor. She thinks about going to her car and is stopped by the feeling of even more blood gushing out of the wound as she tries to push off the beam. It doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. 
“Sunshine,” rings through her ears. Her dizziness makes it difficult to focus on the speaker, yet she knows who it is based on the nickname. She slides down the beam because her legs lose all their strength. Rafe rushes to her side and kneels beside her. “Shit, Sunshine. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police. They are going to fix everything,” his voice breaks as his hand joins hers to stop the flow of his blood. She can hear him relaying the information to the dispatcher, but her body is telling her something Rafe isn’t going to be ready to hear. He places his phone on the floor so both of his hands can press on her abdomen. “They’re coming, Sunshine, just hold on. I promise. I’ll be here the whole time.” Her handshakes as she raises to his cheek, staining it with her blood. Her tears water at the edge of her bottom eyelid, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” His head shakes vigorously. “Don’t say tha-.” She cuts him off, “Can you please just listen to me?” He nods to let her continue. “It was your dealer. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to make sure he gets arrested. But I need you to know that you are more than just your addiction and football. I know you don’t think so, but you are and if you just realize that, then you will see the man that I fell in love with.” “I don’t deserve that though. Look at all the shit I put you through. You deserve more than a druggie as a boyfriend,” he cries, holding her hand against his skin.
She smiles up at him, “You deserve more too. You deserve to be truly happy. You deserve to try to find a new purpose in life. I want that for you.” “How can I find all of that if you are gone?” he questions. Her breathing begins to become laboured, “You’ll find yourself and once you grieve, you’ll find someone who can help heal your broken heart. That’s how.”
“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please, don’t go. Will you please stay if I promise to get sober?” 
“I will be with you every step of the way.”
The words tear his heart in two. He knows what it means. She truly doesn’t think she is coming out of this alive. “I want you to see me get better though. Please. Just hang on a little longer.” His tears cloud his vision. When he doesn’t hear a response, he wipes his eyes to get a closer look at her. The world goes dark at the sight of her glassy eyes only reflecting back his face with no recognition or life behind them. The rise and fall of her chest have stopped. The universe decides to answer his calls for help at a cruel moment as he hears the siren finally approach. There is no use in their hurry if the person who needs saving is the one to do it because Rafe isn’t going to let her last words die with her. He is going to get better, not only for her but for him too. He deserves more than a life of chasing his pain away with drugs and he is determined to achieve that.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura
144 notes · View notes
sincerelyneo · 8 hours
Text
touch tank | l.hc
“he's so pretty when he goes down on me, gold-skinned eager baby”
💿now playing: touch tank by quinnie
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❯ summary: Hyuck just can’t understand it. Why don’t you want to sit on his face?
❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader
❯ genre: established relationship, smut
❯ words: 3.0k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, oral sex (fem receiving), face sitting, nipple play, male masturbation, brief hair pulling, mention of death as a joke, reader uses she/her pronouns, haechan always being pussy drunk agenda
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“What’s the big deal?”
Your boyfriend asks the question nonchalantly - as though you’re being completely unreasonable - which in some capacity maybe you are. But it’s not your fault. He may call it unreasonable, you would call it being cautious.
“Well for starters I’m not particularly keen on the idea of me suffocating you,” you say with a roll of your eyes.
Hyuck doesn’t listen - that’s not true - he’s hearing you but he thinks your excuses are ridiculous. You can tell by the way he’s still trying to kiss the skin on your neck down to the centre of your chest, and teasing the neckline of your tank lower until the edge is resting along the tops of your breasts.
“You won’t suffocate me,” he promises, shifting down to nuzzle further underneath your shirt until the tip of his nose nudges your nipple, which has already hardened from just a few of his kisses. You shiver, gasping when his lips catch on your skin.
“Considering how wet I make you, I’d be more likely to drown than suffocate baby,” he teases, his smirk visible just before his mouth opens around your nipple.
He sucks gently, ever so sweetly, just light enough to make you whine. When he talks again, it’s right against your skin.
“And now that I’m thinking about it, it wouldn’t be the worst way to go, and I think it would be kinda hot to have that on my headstone.”
You scoff out a laugh, “you’re unbelievable.”
This time you feel his smile on your nipple right before he bites down softly, making your head fall back.
You know what he’s doing - he’s good at this - making you feel so fucking amazing that your mind goes foggy. So, you squeeze your eyes shut, shake your head, and try to regain your focus on the situation at hand.
“What if I fall over?” You protest.
The rebuttal sounds weak - even to you. And when Hyuck slips his arm around your waist and pulls until you settle onto your side; you know it sounds weak to him too.
He starts to suck another gentle kiss over your nipple before trailing down over your belly, pushing your top up in contrast to the lower he goes. You squirm when his lips touch your bare stomach, clenching your thighs together tightly to try and dull the throbbing that’s started in your clit.
“You won’t,” he replies, slowly. “It’s just like riding my dick, and you know how to do that pretty damn well.”
Your voice betrays you, and you whimper under your breath before you can even think to hold it back. When you look down at Hyuck, he’s smiling lazily at you, like he knows he’s already won.
“But that’s different,” you insist, keeping your legs closed tight when his fingers try to sneak between them. “Your dick is supposed to get wet when we have sex. That’s the whole point.”
“Who says my tongue doesn’t want that either?” He murmurs, curving his spine down to kiss along the band of your panties. You groan - half in frustration and half in arousal - when he succeeds in stroking a fingertip against your clit; he circles it lightly, using as much room as you allow him.
“C’mon,” he tries again, voice pitched low and inviting. He drags his lips down to where his fingers are and starts kissing there instead, increasingly persistent, nuzzling up against your clit through your panties until you give in and open your legs for him. When you try to tilt your body to lie on your back again, Hyuck hooks his arm around your thigh and pulls you towards him instead, “Not like that, baby, over me, c’mon.”
“Hyuck,” you whine; you reach down to get a grip on his hair, hiding your face in your now bent elbow.
He doesn’t bother with removing the barrier of panties just yet, sucking with enough pressure for you to feel it through them. You move your hips against his mouth in tiny motions, pushing forward against his lips, and you know you're already fucking soaking, you can feel it if you shift in just the right direction to meet his mouth.
Only seconds pass before Hyuck pulls you closer again, this time slowly rolling himself onto his back as well, but you resist swinging your outer leg over to straddle his face like he wants, digging your nails into his scalp instead.
Hissing at the pain, Hyuck arches his neck to lick along the crease of your thigh. He loses his patience, curling his fingers around your panties and tugging them down, “At least let me see you, yeah?”
You flush at just the thought of him being so close to you and paying so much attention, like he always does. He doesn’t waste another second before he’s pulling your underwear off your legs, and tossing them down at your feet.
He kisses the inside of your thigh and the line of your hip before settling firmly on his back, looking up at you hopefully. You groan again, fully out of frustration this time, and irritably pull his hair. “You’re not giving up then?”
“Nope,” he says. He looks more aroused than he usually does by now, his chest rising with his heavier breaths. “God loves a trier.”
“Wish he didn’t,” you mumble.
You bring both hands up to your face and push your hair away from your forehead, clenching your thighs again before shifting up onto your knees, watching Hyuck’s eyes move down between your legs as you settle over his face.
He isn’t subtle, spreading you with his thumbs and looking over you. Your muscles clench on their own when you think about what he might see. He swears quietly to himself, and you wonder if it’s visible how wet you already are or if he’ll have to feel it to find out.
“C’mere, babe,” he says, keeping you open, still watching between your legs. He looks up to your face when you squirm, “can’t reach, I wanna taste you.”
“God, shut up.”
You lean forward, putting all your weight on your hands that are braced against the mattress, and slowly spread your thighs wider, muscles shaking already. Hyuck moves his hands to your hips and helps you ease down, leaning up to meet you at first, tongue already waiting to press flat against your clit. You gasp in surprise and jerk your hips forward before drawing up again, away from his mouth, but he tightens his grip on you.
“Shh, c’mon,” he says, easy and coaxing, “relax and c’mere.”
You tense as he pulls you back down to his mouth, but he gives you warning this time, turning his head to let his lips trail along the inside of your thigh before slowly making his way between your legs again, kissing your clit gently. It’s easier this time, and you try to let yourself relax.
The position just feels dirty to you, your breasts hanging heavy where you’re bent forward, nipples brushing against your top. Hyuck’s hands soothing on your body, sliding from your hips up your sides and back down, and you let yourself moan quietly when he gives your clit another soft lick.
“Yeah, that’s better,” he murmurs; you echo him, a quiet yeah that sounds more pleading than you expect.
He hooks his fingers around where your hips bend into your thighs, lowering his head back to the mattress to encourage you to drop down even more. You feel flushed and hot along nearly your entire body, especially right between your legs when you give in and inch down further, seeking out his tongue again. With your head hanging down, it’s hard to look anywhere but his face; he looks back, fitting his lips around your clit when you reach his mouth. He sucks softly, tilting his head back more, and the first touch of his chin against your cunt makes you blush deeper.
For his part, Hyuck just sighs against you and closes his eyes, flexing his fingers on your hips and slipping his tongue over your clit while it’s inside his mouth. You gasp and dig your nails into the mattress, tempted to move a hand down to hold onto his hair. But you need both hands for balance, keeping yourself relaxed while Hyuck pulls you down closer to him with gentle little tugs.
Honestly, it feels nothing at all like riding his cock; with his cock, you know then that you can bear down with as much weight as you like, know that he’ll push right back up and meet you. Like this, you’re shaky and unsure of how heavily you can settle down over his mouth, and he’s hardly giving you a chance to think it through. He keeps his tongue flat against you but slides it down from your clit until he can push the tip inside your cunt just enough to tease. You moan softly and try to roll your hips forward, wanting something deep enough to clench around, but Hyuck holds you still.
“Like that?” He asks, and you groan, squirming down against his lips when he kisses you there, thumbs going back to holding you open so he can lick inside.
You know you don’t need to answer his question - he knows your body better than you do - but you reply anyway with a strangled curse, shifting your hips to grind against the flat of his tongue now that his hands can’t hold you still. He moans softly against you, trailing off into a hum as he sucks a kiss over your clit.
“Keep doing that,” he mumbles, words vibrating against you, “move like that, make yourself cum.”
Your breath leaves you in a rush and you bend closer to the mattress, elbows going momentarily weak.
You pant; sounding desperate as you obey him. He starts sliding his hands from your hips up your stomach and under your top to give you free rein of your movements.
It’s hotter than you expected it to be, moving to rub your clit against Hyuck’s tongue. He reaches up far enough to pinch both your nipples between his fingers, just tight enough that there’s a tug when you roll your hips forward, shoulders pulling back. When you push forward far enough to get the tip of his tongue nestled inside you, you can feel his nose nudging your clit; you stay like that for a moment, rocking down against the pointed end of his tongue before you give in, whining.
“In me, put it in me deeper.”
Hyuck groans louder against you now, pinching your nipples tighter. “So fuckin’ wet,” he murmurs, tilting his head back and slipping his tongue inside as deep as it’ll let him go.
“Keep your hands there,” you instruct, and he pinches again as a reply, gentler this time. Ignoring any leftover uncertainty, you straighten your back to sit up and free your hands, immediately cradling his head.
You can feel his heavy breaths against you every time he pulls his tongue back to lick his lips. It becomes easier to take control of the situation. You find, Hyuck doesn’t seem to protest when he’s like this, licking over and inside with eagerness each time you urge yourself closer to his mouth.
The slow climb to your orgasm starts when he forgets your earlier request and heads back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a slick sound that’s loud. You let your head tilt back into the feeling, the ends of your hair tickling the curve of your spine.
“Don’t stop,” you breathe, not even sure if he hears you over his own encouraging hums. The vibrations are subtle but just enough for you to rock into, twisting your fingers tight into his hair and holding on as you move to keep his head in place.
Using Hyuck’s mouth to actually work yourself up to cumming is much more like riding his cock. The motions feel the same: thighs flexing, hips tilting for the best angle, fighting to keep your balance. It might even be better than riding him, with the firm suction and Hyuck’s soft tongue, knowing that he’s conserving his breaths for you, wanting to make you cum more than he wants anything else at the moment.
His hands have strayed down at your ribs, fingers digging in to hold onto you like you’re holding onto him, and his steadying grip along with the constant pull on your clit is what makes you finally lose it.
You let yourself groan out loud when it first hits, grinding down hard into his mouth, trusting him to know how much you can take while you ride it out. It becomes too intense in seconds, your sensitivity ramping up so quickly that you can’t keep up with it, but Hyuck pulls his mouth away as soon as you whimper, dragging his nails down your sides.
“Fuck,” he groans. He works one arm under your thigh to reach for his dick, and you feel his shoulder shaking underneath you right away.
You’re panting, still hovering over his mouth; he’s wet down to his chin, lips parted and slick. It’s a bit of a rush to look down at him and watch his eyes open to find yours, dropping back down between your legs while he touches himself.
You smile hazily, “Think you liked that more than I did, and I’m the one came.”
“I might’ve,” he agrees, his voice tight.
Wanting to give him a show, you release your grip on his hair to touch yourself, fingers slipping down until you inch one inside, deeper and more solid than Hyuck’s tongue was, but jolting from the sensitivity. You’re close enough to his face that your knuckles brush his damp chin, and he tucks his head down to kiss the backs of your fingers.
“Don’t tease me,” he says.
“Who’s teasing?” You ask, as playful as you can sound with your breath still panting fast.
Your original hesitance about the position isn’t even at the back of your mind now, not with Hyuck’s chest heaving under your weight and his eyes flicking fast over your body like he isn’t sure where to look.
“You could let me taste again,” he tries, tilting his head to the side to rub his face up against your inner thigh. You feel his arm move quicker, like just the idea is helping bring him off. It’s not an idea you oppose, judging from the small burst of arousal you feel when he kisses your skin and licks between breaths.
“That good, is it?”
You take in another one of your fingers and let them sink deeper, still sensitive enough to draw a gasp. Hyuck doesn’t respond, just keeps his hand moving and looks up at your face, barely starting to tremble the closer he gets.
When you slip your fingers out, you re-tighten your grip on his hair. His eyes are losing focus, but still trying to stay open to watch you. The sheen on his lips still glistens, so you drag your fingertip along his bottom lip and only get halfway across his mouth before he opens to suck them inside. He finally stops delaying the inevitable and shuts his eyes.
You hardly ever see your boyfriend like this, his body language edging on desperate. His cock is flushed darkest at the head and nearly as wet as you are, a little pool of pre-cum gathers on his stomach. The hand not jerking himself now is gripping your thigh tightly enough to leave indentations around his fingertips, and his toes are curled in on themselves; his whole body is wound so tightly, muscles straining.
He keeps sucking at your fingers sharply, letting them muffle any noises he makes.
“Didn’t know you’d like this so much,” you say, “next time I’ll turn around so I can suck your cock too.”
Much like before, just the idea is enough for Hyuck; he freezes just as his orgasm starts, then moans around your fingers, mouth going slack even as his hand keeps working fast. You hook your fingers gently over the bottom set of his teeth and rub your thumb over his jaw.
Just as you’re about to contort yourself enough to lean down and kiss him, you feel a hot splash against your back and you gasp, even as Hyuck’s eyes stay closed tightly.
“Oh my god,” you say, dragging your fingers from his mouth and over his chin, waiting until he opens his eyes to continue. “If you got cum on my shirt, I take back my offer.”
Hyuck’s laugh leaves him before he can help it, more of a giggle with little power behind it. “Payback,” he pants, “for being so difficult.”
“I was thinking of you in my protests,” you argue.
He ignores you. “Well for someone who didn’t wanna come up here like this you sure don’t seem to wanna move now.”
“That’s because, I know when I move we’re going to have to clean up. Also I’m in a position of power like this.”
Attempting to use that supposed position of power, you rise to your knees and finally pull off your top completely, dropping it unceremoniously on Hyuck’s head before letting out a giggle of your own.
“Speaking of which, you can do laundry today,” you say.
“Only if you let me fuck you on the washing machine,” he counters, mimicking your tone. He makes no move to pull the cloth from his face.
“Hyuck!” You snap; he shrugs animatedly, making up for the lack of visible facial expression. After a beat, you relent, “I suppose those vibrations probably would be nice.”
141 notes · View notes
zepskies · 16 hours
Text
Take Me Home - Part 6
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: Get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions…
Word Count: 4.6K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, tinge of spice~
❤️ Series Masterlist
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“Michael?! What are you doing here?” you asked. 
He stood there with determination set across his face.
“We really need to talk.”
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“We already did! Just leave me the hell alone,” you said. If your day hadn’t been long already, you knew it was about to be even longer. 
Because just as you began to close the door, Michael slapped a hand on the center of it and pushed his way into your apartment.
You gasped and had to back up a couple of steps. “What are you doing?”
“Just hear me out, and then I’ll leave,” Michael said, staring down into your eyes. “That’s all I want.”
He pushed the door closed behind him, but it swung open, just a crack. In his heated state, he hadn’t even noticed. Neither did you. You stepped back further into the center of the living room and crossed your arms with an angry frown. 
“I don’t care!” you snapped. Your patience quota for the day had run out a long time ago. “I just want to be done. Don’t you get that?”
“I know,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. He looked tired as hell; like he hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks. Now in the light of day and not a dusky bar, you could see the darkness under his eyes and the stubble on his cheeks, though he was usually clean-shaven. 
“I know and I’m sorry. I hurt you badly, and I never even told you why,” he said.
You tilted your head in contemplation. Because he was right. For all these months, you’d been so incensed at the bare facts of what he’d done, you’d never looked too deeply into the why.
The one time you’d asked him (while throwing his clothes and possessions out of your shared apartment at the time), he’d never given you a good answer.
“Okay, fine. Why did you do it then?” you asked. “Why did you betray me in the worst way possible, and still try to marry me?”
Michael sighed, his shoulders sinking. “The truth?”
That sparked your anger once more.
“No, keep lying to me like you’ve done from the very start!” you retorted.
“It wasn’t from the start!” he barked back. “It was around six months in, when we were dating. You and I had argued about something stupid. Kate came over to talk it out with me…just to talk. I swear to God. But we were drinking and…”
You let out a sigh, casting your gaze upwards. You really didn’t think you wanted to hear this after all. Michael earned your attention back though, when he took a step forward into your orbit.
“She got pregnant,” he admitted.
Your mouth fell open as your breath left your lungs. Your hands went to your temples in disbelief, and you made a sound of pure shock and distress.
“But she lost the baby early on,” he said. “She was devastated. I was too, but…I tried to help her through it. And it became this, this thing that wouldn’t let go of me. She wouldn’t let me go.”
You shook your head as furious tears welled up in your eyes. This was just too ridiculous and upsetting to compute. You didn’t even recognize the man that was standing in front of you anymore.
How could he blame Kate for what they’d done to you, and for clinging to him after losing her baby? How could he keep that from you, even when he asked you to marry him?
And how could he tell you all of this now and expect you to forgive him?
You didn’t have the words, but you held out a hand against him when he tried to take another step toward you.
“I know I fucked up. I fucked everything up. But you don’t have to come all the way here to run away,” he said. “Your parents miss you. Our friends…they all love you. And most of them rightly don’t want anything to do with me.”
He looked down then, with shame coloring his features. 
Through your tears and the struggle of collecting yourself, you studied him closely with your arms crossed.
You’d known Michael for several years. Even considering the months you two had been apart, you knew he was the same—stubborn and hot-headed and full of audacity as ever. But…he also seemed genuinely remorseful. And desperate.
“If you give me one more chance, I promise I won’t mess it up again. I’ll be the man you deserve,” he said, taking your hand and uncrossing your arms in the process. “Believe it or not, I took a week off without pay, just to be here and get a chance to say this to you: I love you. I love you. And I know now that it’s meant to be you.”
You hesitated, and even made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. They were a crisp dark blue, and yet, not the warm green you’d come to crave. You shook your head.  
“I get it, Michael. I really do…but I can’t do this anymore,” you said. “It’s too damn much.”
You began to slip your hand out of his, but he held you a fraction tighter. He frowned. 
“Are you seeing someone? Is it that guy from the other night? That cop?” Michael asked. 
“Stop it,” you warned in anger. Beau was part of the reason your heart held pain, but it wasn’t the main reason you wanted to be done with Michael Hadley.
You tried to twist your wrist out of his grip. He wouldn’t let you, instead, trying to bring you closer. 
“That’s not an answer,” he said in frustration. “Please, we can start over—”
“Let go!” you demanded. You yanked your hand out of his, and the rest came on instinct. 
Your slap was loud against his cheek, and it made your hand sting too. You also pushed him hard in the chest. Michael was forced to step back while holding his reddening face. He looked back at you in disbelief. 
You were breathing hard, shocked even at yourself. You’d never done that before in your life, but then again, never had you felt the panic of a man holding you against your will. 
Michael’s brows furrowed. He called to you in a pleading tone, and he reached for your arm to placate you.
You quickly stepped back again on reflex. Your heel tripped on the tile floor and you gasped as you felt yourself careening back…onto the glass coffee table behind you.
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After putting his investigation of Avery to bed for the night, Beau felt drained on all counts.
He punctuated the end of his day by calling to check up on Frank Davis, the local firehouse chief, and the father of one of the firefighters who was killed a few months back. Brett, one of the other victims, had carried the guilt of his best friend’s death to his grave. 
Inevitably, that case brought up old memories for Beau. It also reminded him of you, and the situation with your firefighter ex-boyfriend. ‘Scuse me, ex-fiancé.
He also felt bad about how things ended with you in his office. He knew he wasn’t being fair to you. 
As his daughter reminded him the other night, if he’d just been a bit more “open” and honest, maybe he could’ve saved his marriage.
Now with Michael likely trailing you, he didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t come to him, or even call him for that matter.
He seemed to be a bit of a hothead too, Beau thought. While he climbed into his truck and peeled out of the station, he debated stopping by to see you. Carla and Emily wouldn’t be getting over to his place for a couple of hours. That did give him some time. 
And when it came down to it, was he a man, or was he a coward?
He knew it wouldn’t sit right with him if he didn’t try to make this right, in whatever small way.
So with that decision made in his mind, he drove over to your apartment complex. When he parked in one of the guest spots, he noticed another one occupied by a rental car, a gray sedan.
A small tingling of unease buzzed in the back of his mind. Beau approached your building, went inside, and started up the stairs. When he began to hear raised voices, a man and a woman who sounded too much like you, that gut feeling became a red hot alarm making his chest tighten.
He took the stairs nearly two at a time to get up to the second floor, where he saw that the door to your apartment unit was cracked open. He could hear glass shattering from inside.
He sprinted down the hall, and with a hand on his gun at his belt, he swung the door open.
The first thing he saw was Michael’s tall frame standing over you, frozen in shock. You were lying on your side amidst a shattered coffee table, fallen through the wooden frame. There was glass everywhere and underneath you, with magazines and pictures and other knickknacks strewn across the floor.
“What the hell’s going on here?!” Beau barked out.
Michael had turned at the sound of the door banging open. He met the sheriff with wide eyes. Beau’s expression set with a grim, angry frown. Though he willed himself to hold his temper in check, he immediately stepped forward and grabbed Michael’s shoulder, pushing him back and creating space between him and you.
“Step back,” the sheriff snapped.
“Beau,” you uttered in disbelief. You had tears in your eyes at the sight of him.
“Hey, darlin’,” said Beau. His voice was still rough, but more gentle for you. He knelt down at your side and carefully wrapped an arm around your waist to help lift you off the glass.
“You okay?” he asked you.
“Y-Yeah.” Though you raised one of your hands from the ground and blanched at the sight of a sizable piece of glass embedded in your palm. Beau’s lips flattened into a line.
He paused for a moment, turning his head back towards Michael.
“Stay exactly where you are,” he ordered, in a tone that boded no argument.
And Michael offered none. He stood there with furrowed brows. He even looked on at you in worry and frustration, knowing he couldn’t help you. He could only watch the sheriff make slow movements to help you out of the glass.
“Okay, slow for me,” Beau said. He spoke to you in low, calming tones whenever you made a sound of pain. He hooked an arm under your knees and lifted you out of the coffee table’s remains.
“Easy, I gotcha,” he murmured, helping you sit on the couch. You folded your legs off to the side, so you weren’t continuing to step in the glass on bare feet. Besides your right palm, your arm and right thigh had a few bleeding cuts of various degrees.  
After making a short glance at a still concerned Michael, Beau turned to you.
“Did he push you?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t fucking push her!” Michael said. 
“He didn’t,” you confirmed. “But he did shove his way into my apartment.”
Beau’s jaw tightened. He looked back at Michael, and his gaze demanded an answer. 
“I just—I just wanted to talk! Obviously I didn’t mean for this. Goddamn it,” Michael said, wiping a frustrated hand over his face. “Are you okay?”
You sighed. Beau set a hand on your shoulder. 
“Do you want to press charges for trespassing?” Beau asked you.
“Oh, come on!” Michael exclaimed. Beau pointed at him with a hard stare.
“You pipe the hell down,” he said tersely. “And don’t you move a damn inch. Because if you do, so help me, it’ll just about make my day.”
He flashed the other man a look at the handcuffs (and the gun) on his belt.
Beau then returned his attention to you. You were attempting to pick the glass out of your hand. He stilled your movements with a gentle hand on your wrist. 
“Hey, hey, wait on that for me, okay?” he asked. You looked up at him tiredly. 
“It’s okay. Just let him go,” you said. You shifted your gaze to Michael. “Go back to Chicago, for real this time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Michael’s face became disheartened, but his eyes fell to your injured hand. Blood was streaming all the way down your forearm and dripping on the tile floor, along with the other smears of blood amongst glass. 
He knew what he’d done. It made him even more sick with himself.
He turned to leave.
You watched him go, and you could no longer hold in your quiet tears. It wasn’t for him leaving. You just couldn’t believe it had all come to this. 
Beau lightly squeezed your shoulder. 
“Hey, I’ll be right back, okay?” he said. “Do me a favor and don’t move.”
“Okay,” you said, in an uncharacteristically small voice.
Beau tried to give you a reassuring smile. He gave into the desire to sweep a stray lock of hair away from your eyes, allowing him to brush your cheek with his fingers. You gave him a small smile back, despite your watery eyes.
Beau nodded and got up from the couch. He made swift strides out of the apartment, making sure to close the door behind him. He then hastened down the hall and the stairs to catch up with Michael in the parking lot. Beau was hot on his trail to the rental car.
“Hey!” he called out.
Michael paused in his gait. He turned to face the sheriff, sporting a look of frustration.
“What?” he shot back.
“You better take her warning for the gift it is,” Beau said. He closed the distance between him and Michael, but resisted the urge to grab the other man and hurl him against the car.
“It’s time for you to go home,” Beau said. “I don’t want to see you in town. I don’t want to hear that you’re following her around or blowing up her phone. Do you hear me?”
Michael stood straighter, his jaw working in anger.
“Are you threatening me, Sheriff?” he asked.
“No. I’m thinking you’ll be smart enough to take some friendly advice,” Beau said, but his eyes were sharp. “If I have to threaten you, then we really will have a problem.”
Michael was younger, leaner, probably faster, but Beau edged him out by a couple of inches, on both height and build.
“Just let her get on with her life,” said Beau.
Fortunately, the standoff didn’t last long.
Michael’s anger soon relented, letting the guilt and shame shine through.
“Make sure she’s okay,” he said. “Tell her…that I’m sorry.”
Then he turned and walked away. Beau watched him get into his car and leave the premises.
It wasn’t until the rumble of the engine faded away that Beau released the clenched fists at his sides. He pivoted slowly on his heel and made his way back up to your apartment.
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And your door was locked.
On one hand, he understood your fears. On the other hand, he’d asked you not to move from the couch.
“Who is it?” you asked, after he knocked.
“It’s just me, don’t worry,” Beau answered. You opened the door with your good hand and let him in, while holding up your bloody one with a bunch of crumpled gauze and medical tape hanging down your arm. It looked like you got the glass shard out, but you were struggling on the “wrapping it up” part.
“Oh, sweetheart, I asked you to wait for me,” he said. His brows furrowed as he took your wrist and elbow to steady you.
“Yeah, well, I got impatient,” you replied, but your attempt at a smile lightened him too. 
Beau followed you to the kitchen sink and grasped your hand carefully. You’d already cleaned and sterilized the wound, so all he had to do was wrap it for you with some gauze and medical tape. 
“This is kind of deep. You might wanna go to the ER,” he said. “I could take you.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s really not that deep,” you replied.
“You sure?” Beau asked, frowning at you. “How you doin’? You okay?”
Your face had been tight with pain while he tried to get the wrapping right with deft hands. At his questioning, you softened with a wry smile. 
“I’m fine, more or less,” you said. “But…how…why were you here to begin with? How’d you know I was in trouble?”
Beau met your gaze for a moment. He was able to delay answering your question until he finished wrapping your hand. Afterwards, he sighed.
“I came to apologize,” he admitted. “But first, can I help you clean up around here? You just sit and relax. I’ll sweep up all this glass and mop the floor.”
You let out a long breath, your shoulders sinking. “Oh, Beau, don’t. You don’t have to do all that.”
“But see, I actually want to,” he said, giving you one of those grins you’ve come to know and expect. You couldn’t help but smile back.
“Okay.”
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A thorough sweep, vacuum, and mopping, then a couple of cracked open beers and an order of Chinese later (plus cleaning and patching up the rest of your cuts), Beau sat next to you at the dining table and officially made his apology.
“I’m sorry for how things turned out today at the precinct,” he said.
You shook your head. You’d had some time to think about all of that, and there were things you could’ve handled better too.
“Beau, look. I get it,” you said. “You’re dealing with a lot at work, with Carla and Emily too, and…really, we haven’t known each other all that long. It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to open up on something that clearly still hurts you. Especially in the middle of your office.”
Beau let out a breath through his nose. He smiled and laid a gentle hand over your uninjured one, earning your widened gaze.
“You’re a sweetheart for that, but the truth is, you had a point today,” he said. “I’m a difficult man to know. It’s a flaw of mine that my ex-wife has pointed out several times. And even my daughter. Sometimes she looks at me like she can’t understand me.”
You bit the inside of your lip. You debated asking the question you wanted to ask. With his hand over yours, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, you were able to gather your courage.
“Does it have something to do with the reason you were in grief counseling?” you asked. “About your partner on the job?”
Beau nodded, his smile fading. “Yeah, it does. It has a lot to do with Randy.”
He took a moment, but you gave him the time he needed to find his words. Eventually he began to explain to you what happened in Houston.
How he’d been an upper-level officer dealing with a narcotics case. His partner, Randy Santos, had volunteered to infiltrate a drug cartel undercover. He stayed in the field for a few months longer than protocol, but he was so close, he’d claimed. One bust, and they could arrest the kingpin. The entire cartel would crumble.
Beau had backed him up with the Chief, against his better judgment. When the time came that Randy had helped arrange a drug deal, Beau was the one leading the squad on the bust.
“It went south so fast,” he said.
And he paused in his story for a moment. His eyes were far away, lost in memories.
You squeezed his hand over yours to bring him back. He met your gaze.
“When it got down to it, I had two choices,” he said. “Take out the boss, or take out the guy right in front of me, Dante. Now, Dante had his back turned. He couldn’t see me. Would’ve been fish in a barrel…but I went for the head of the snake. I shot the kingpin. I didn’t realize that Dante had already burned Randy. Knew he was a cop.”
Beau met your gaze then. “Dante shot Randy in the head, point blank.”
Your mouth fell open in disheartened shock. Beau took a long sip of his beer, wishing it was whiskey.
“I saw it all…in slow motion. Just like the movies,” he said. “I see it almost every night, without fail.”
You shook your head helplessly. “Beau. It’s not—”
“Not my fault?” Beau gave you a sad smile. “Oh, but it was. Nothing else to it. Bad leadership. bad police work. Bad friend.”
He continued to drink his beer.
“And I checked out,” he said. “My wife and daughter paid the price of my absence. Picking myself off the bottom of whatever crusty bar would have me that night. Refusing to go to counseling. Generally making an ass of myself.”
You covered his hand with your bandaged one. It got him to look at you and forget his beer for a moment.
“It was a hard call,” you said. “Anyone could’ve made the same one you did.”
“Yeah. And it got my best friend killed,” Beau said. “His wife, his ten-year-old boy, his parents. They’ll never be the same because I messed up. I can’t abide that.” 
He sucked in an unsteady breath. “It still…sometimes I wake out of a dead sleep, and I see his face. I see the body they brought back.”
His eyes were red and shining. The emotion in his voice choked you up as well, making your eyes sting. 
You raised a hand to touch his cheek, your thumb drifting tenderly across his chin. 
“You’re not a difficult man to know,” you said. A tear found its way down your cheek, and then another. You didn’t bother to wipe them away. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you care. About your team, your family, everyone…even messy, accident-prone women.”
You gave him a smile at the last bit. He was able to give you one back, through his own unsteady breath.
“Especially those,” he agreed. Your hand moved down to his shoulder. 
“And you also like to eat. A lot,” you quipped. “I think you’ve got about three stomachs.”
“Probably four, realistically,” he said with a tearful laugh. He wiped at his face with both hands. You waited for him to meet your gaze again before you continued.  
“You’re also an old-fashioned cowboy,” you said, with a brighter smile. Your hand slid down, this time to his chest, over his heart. “But you’re a good man, Beau. That, I knew from the very beginning.”
Beau clasped your hand where it lay on his chest, almost on reflex. He was sure you could feel his heart tripping up, double timing. He reached out for your cheek, guiding your face up to his. He leaned over slowly, giving you time to say no, whether with words or with actions.
But your eyes, though still a bit shiny from tears, were nothing but beautifully welcoming. So he took a shot. He began to cross the distance between your lips and his.
And his phone buzzed on the table, making both of you jolt. 
It was just a text message. Frowning, Beau looked over and read the preview. When he saw Emily’s name, he cursed under his breath. He reached for his phone and opened up the message.
Hey, where are you?
“Shit,” he said. “Emily’s been staying with me all week and Carla’s joining us tonight, to be safe. They’re there already, asking where I am.”
You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed beyond measure, but you nodded.
“Then you should go,” you said.
You squeezed his hand before you released him. Beau wasn’t happy about it either, but he did the same. He helped you clean up the dining table and gathered up his wallet and keys. You walked him over to the front door, where Beau debated how he should leave this.
The door was open, literally and figuratively as you leaned against its frame. You couldn’t hide your unease. You didn’t know where this left the two of you either.
Beau sighed and propped a curled finger under your chin, earning your gaze.
“I need to settle some things. After…” he trailed. You nodded at what he was trying to say.
“When Carla and Emily have stability again, we can talk,” you finished for him. “I’ll be here.” 
He looked at you in wonder. 
“You’ll really wait for that?” he asked. His brows creased, and he truly marveled at your patience with him. “You know you don’t have to.”
A smile curved your lips. “Something tells me you’re worth waiting for, Sheriff Arlen.”
Beau grinned at you fondly. He cupped the side of your face and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
“Well, thank God for that,” he said. “Really, thank you…”
Lord help him, but he couldn’t help himself. He finally crossed the distance and kissed you.
Your chest rose with your breath, but when your eyes fell shut, you couldn’t help but melt against him. You gripped the front of his buttoned-down shirt for stability while his fingers tangled in your hair. It all grew with heat when he tilted his head, tasting you deeper with each new kiss.
He pressed you into the doorframe, trapping your body with his. You held onto him like a lifeline.
While his hands drifted down your back and rested on your hips, bunching the material of your pretty yellow sundress, you twined your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. He felt your every curve, soft breasts and thighs and sweet sighs.
He released a sound of pleasure, deep in his throat. His lips veered away from yours to burn a slow trail down to your neck. He was satisfied by the way you moaned and struggled to catch your breath at his ministrations.
Your fingers wound up sweeping through his hair. It both soothed and aroused him, somehow. But Beau knew if he didn’t stop here, he wouldn’t be able to again.
He laid one last kiss under your ear that hinted with teeth, making you shudder. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. You two breathed together for a moment, just existing here, hearts racing.
“I gotta go,” he said. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
You nodded, biting your lip. He pulled back further and thumbed at your lower lip. 
“Don’t do that, or I just might have to go back on my word,” he said, giving you a smirk.
You smiled in amusement. “Promise?”
Beau chuckled. He stole one more heated kiss before he withdrew from you, his hand lingering on your cheek. Heaving a sigh, you turned him around by his broad shoulders and reluctantly sent him on his way. 
Halfway down the hall, he slowed to look back at you. Seeing you leaning against your door, still catching your breath, all hot and bothered…it nearly broke his resolve.
“Nope,” he muttered.
He shook his head and forced himself to keep walking until he hit the stairwell for the umpteenth time today. 
He would stop three more times on the way to his car before he actually left your building.
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AN: 😘 So, how'd you like the official "end" of Michael Hadley? And finally, finally, we get to a first kiss. In Part 7, we enter some even deeper waters...
Next Time:
“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”
“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”
Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.
“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.
“Okay,” you nodded.
Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
Series Masterlist
Big Sky Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @globetrotter28 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @ades106
@charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @deans-baby-momma @tabsluvsu @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons
@antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @deans-daydream @deans-spinster-witch @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @iprobablyshipit91 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @lostin-jensenseyes @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow
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clu-ven · 1 day
Text
Better than Meditation
soooo I haven't posted in a very long time but I'm trying to get back into writing!!! (so pls bear with me xoxoxoxoxo)
Summary: you come up with an alternative (smutty) way for Crosshair to gain some control over his hand - based off S3 E08
Tags: SMUT, vaginal fingering, semi public fingering?? (technically it’s done in an isolated but public place), lil bit of plot + smut, smut, smut
Word Count: 2.8k
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“He’s still down there, y’know” Omega’s voice brings you out of your thoughts as she slumps down beside you.
You keep your eyes closed, letting the rays of the afternoon sun wash over you. Pabu’s climate is one you could most definitely get used to. It’s inviting and comforting atmosphere makes you feel at ease, a sensation that has become rare since the rise of the Empire.
“Well, you know how stubborn he is,” you reply casually. 
While Hunter and Wrecker are gone to meet some bounty hunter they know, Crosshair has spent most of his time on a secluded part of the beach, focused on correcting his aim.  Everyone has tried to talk to him about it but unfortunately, that only made things worse.
Now Crosshair is more defensive than ever, determined to prove that he is perfectly capable of correcting his shaky hand by himself. 
“Yeah but AZI said it might be some kind of mental block,” Omega sighs, subtly copying you as she closes her eyes too “if he doesn’t open up and let us help him, then how is he supposed to get better?”.
Her concern for Crosshair makes you smile, impressed by how she’s able to delicately balance trying to help her brother without being too overbearing.
The question lingers for a few moments before you open your eyes and glance down at her “And he’s already shot down your meditation idea?”.
Omega briefly mentioned the idea to you that morning and although you were sceptical, you encouraged her determination to help anyway. 
“Of course he did,” she lets out a heavy sigh “saying he didn’t like it is an understatement”. 
A comfortable silence grows between you both as you consider the situation. But before you can speak, Omega quickly becomes restless and blurts out “Can’t you try speaking with him? He’ll listen to you, I just know it!”. 
It’s no secret that you and Crosshair were once close and you can only presume Omega has heard about this from the likes of Wrecker, who wouldn’t give a second thought about mentioning it.
"I can try but..." you trail off, hesitating to make a decision. Doubt clouds your judgement, stopping you from promising anything. After all, you know how stubborn and closed-minded Crosshair can be at times, especially when it comes to being vulnerable.
Omega's face lights up at your hesitant help. "Great! Sometimes trying is all it takes". She seems upbeat and enthusiastic as she stands “I was gonna go introduce Batcher to Mox, Stak and Deek anyways so it’s good to know Crosshair won’t be alone”.
Giving the girl a tight-lipped smile in response, Omega whistles for Batcher. With one last goodbye, she hurries off happily.
You wait until she’s gone before you sigh and slump down again. Although Crosshair has been back for a while now, the two of you have yet to have a proper reunion, leaving you both unsure of how to approach the situation. 
Knowing you can’t put this off for forever, you begrudgingly get up and start the long descent down to the secluded beach. 
The subtle change in weather appears to align with your mood, as the sun dips behind the clouds and a warm breeze begins to pick up. It causes the light fabric of your skirt to dance in the wind as if it has a mind of its own. But it’s only a momentary distraction as your thoughts swiftly return to Crosshair, focusing fully on him and the impending catch-up. 
You and Crosshair were always close during the Clone Wars, constantly laughing at each other’s snide remarks, bickering simply for the sake of it and always trying to get a rise out of the other. Even back then, you knew where the constant teasing would eventually lead to… but then it didn’t. 
Instead, the war came to an end and before you even got the opportunity to speak with Crosshair, the rest of the Batch had turned up at your door and told you that he had already picked his side.
Since then, you have been travelling with the batch. It took a long time to accept that whatever was between you and Crosshair was gone, whether that be a friendship or something more. That died the day the Republic did. 
But in a strange twist of faith, Crosshair is back and so are your lingering feelings. Although, if it was difficult to confront this emotion before everything happened, it’s become utterly impossible now. Neither of you have mentioned it and yet you still catch his longing gaze whenever he thinks you’re not paying attention.
When you reach the beach, it’s exactly how you pictured; Crosshair is alone, his sniper positioned steadily on a rock as he tries to shoot the far off target. A blaster bolt sprints across the water as he fires, missing his target by a few inches. You hear him mutter something under his breath as he tries again.
Flicking his chewed up toothpick to the ground, Crosshair notices you. “Yes?” He asks impatiently, lining up another shot.
“You’ve been out here all day,” you state the obvious “Omega’s worried about you”.
Crosshair doesn’t reply immediately, first firing (and missing) again before he turns around just to make sure you see his eye roll. “Oh, is she?” His tone is underlined with sarcasm. 
A huff falls from your lips and suddenly you know all too well why Omega was so irked after trying to help the man in front of you. Despite the scowl on your face, you refuse to fall into the usual bickering you once had with him. 
“You know she is,” you sigh “maybe you should take a break, come have some lunch and forget about target practice for a while”.
He watches you for a moment, studying you the same way you’ve seen from the corner of your eye “And when did you become mother hen?”.
Scoffing, you walk closer, hugging yourself with your arms “Don’t act like that, you know you’re overworking yourself… Crosshair, please, you need to take care of yourself”. 
The concern in your voice takes him by surprise but Crosshair quickly recovers as he mutters “Oh, so you’re worried about me now?”.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You bat back at him.
“You’ve hardly looked at me, nevermind speak to me since I’ve gotten back” he practically spits the words out. 
You no longer hold back your glare “Like you’ve made any effort to talk to me!”.
“How can I when you don’t even look at me?” Crosshair challenges, his gaze unyielding as your annoyance fades as quick as it came. 
Coming up to the rock he’s based at, you slide down against it to shield yourself from the wind. Crosshair follows suit and kneels beside you, waiting cautiously for your response. 
Your tone holds a sense of sincerity as you speak, your words now free of any reservations. "I do look at you… of course I do," you confess with genuine intent, all annoyance and restraint vanishing within you. 
“Then you must see me staring,” he almost whispers the words, watching you carefully “I thought you would have gotten the hint by now that I’m still interested”.
A soft smile graces your lips and as if taming a wild animal, you slowly reach out for his hand. Crosshair makes no attempt to stop you and you gently slip your hand into his before you tug him closer. 
Settling his hand on to your lap, you begin to trace your finger up and down his palm until finally resting your hand delicately on his wrist. “Let me help,” you offer “seriously, Crosshair”.
“And how would you help?” Though the question almost seems backhanded, you know that’s just Crosshair being Crosshair.
The mischievous glint in your eye paired with the suggestive smirk plastered across your face doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 
“How do you think?” you question. 
He holds your gaze as if to challenge you to make the first move but you hold strong. This is your moment and you both know it.
A secluded beach? A chance for you both to finally reunite in a way you could only imagine? Both of your minds go to the same place.
You give his wrist a small yet reassuring squeeze and before you can make another comment, his lips are on yours. 
With an intensity fuelled by pure need, he slams his lips against yours in a heated display of passion. This isn’t just a build up of years worth of longing for Crosshair. No, it’s much more than that. It’s an act of rebellion against the time he lost with you because of the Empire, both in spite of his own misplaced loyalty to them as well as his time on Tantiss. 
The fiery kiss goes on for what feels like an eternity and yet the time seems far too brief when it finally comes to an end. The passion flaring between the two of you is intoxicating, causing you to crave more.
His fingers twitch on your lap, eager to do more for you. As if on cue, you both look down at his hand, your soft grasp still around his wrist.
“You have to be calm, be able to stay consistent with your shots if you want to hit the target, right?” you ask, trying not to smirk when you see his sudden confusion. 
In a moment like this, you seriously decide to give him some advice on shooting? Crosshair nods, silently waiting to see where this is going.
“Maybe you’re approaching this from the wrong perspective,” you suggest, noticing how his attention shifts to your lips “you’re focusing on your sniper abilities, looking to re-learn your techniques… but you need to re-learn how to use your fingers in order to effectively use your sniper”.
“And how do you propose I do that?” his voice is low, causing the skin on your arms to prickle with goosebumps. You can feel the effect of his voice in your panties.
With your free hand, you begin to bunch up your skirt, first revealing your thighs and then a glimpse of your underwear. Crosshair can’t help it as a groan escapes from his throat.
You guide his hand closer to your clothed core before Crosshair takes initiative and brushes his fingers teasingly against you. 
He can feel the warmth beneath your underwear, feeling more assured in his movements when he hears you take in a sharp breath. But even with the small boost in confidence, Crosshair can’t help it as a small tremor courses through his hand. 
“Take your time,” your voice is soft but firm in your reassurance “and if this is too much then we can stop”. Fearful that you’ve pushed him too far, you slowly begin to close your legs as you nervously fiddle with your skirt “I didn’t mean to push you so-”.
You stop your apologetic remark when his firm grip stops your legs from meeting. A brief look of disbelief flicks across your face as he spreads your legs to his liking.
“No,” there is no hesitancy in Crosshair’s voice as he takes control of the situation “you started this, don’t go shy on me now”. This time it’s your turn to nod silently.
His fingers glide down to caress you again, this time feeling the dampness from beneath your underwear. Each reaction you give, whether a sharp intake of breath or a slight quiver up your spine, only serves to fuel Crosshair’s determination. He savors these small responses, revelling in how you leave each reaction so bare for him to see.
Crosshair smirks “If this is how you react to such simple touches, do you think you could handle me touching you without anything between us?”. 
“You’d be surprised with how much I can handle” you taunt.
Oh how he has missed how you challenge him. Your snarky response is rewarded with a kiss but before you can melt into it, Crosshair brings both of his hands to your hips and swiftly pulls your panties down. 
The eager sight that greets him brings a smile to his face. Crosshair can feel his excitement growing but before he can get ahead of himself, he’s committed to take care of you first. 
Crosshair teasingly brings just one finger down to your core. A slight tremor causes his finger to waver but after a second, it stops as desire overtakes him. His finger teases you, feeling just how much you want him. Before he can make another teasing comment, you pull him in for another kiss, unable to help yourself.
Crosshair is quick to take control of the kiss, simultaneously pushing his tongue into your mouth as he sinks his long finger into you. You welcome all of him, moaning into his mouth. Taking your sounds as encouragement, Crosshair adds a second digit to your core. 
He pushes in until he’s knuckle deep, successfully finding that spot within you. Crosshair takes your advice to heart. He keeps a consistent rhythm, thrusting his fingers inside of you. He listens to each involuntary squeak and moan, adjusting his speed and pressure of each pump of his fingers to whichever makes you react the most. 
There’s not a slight tremble in his entire hand, his attention solely on you. There is no room for nerves or doubt to creep in and cause his hand to shake. That seems almost impossible now, especially with you like this in front of him.
There is nothing but you and him in this moment, the rhythmic movement of his fingers serving as proof that he has full control.
He buries his fingers into you, pressing the palm of his hand against your clit and delivering powerful jolts of pleasure into your body.
“That’s it,” he coos at your moans “you’re nearly there, aren’t you?”.
A flutter fills your chest as your breathing becomes more rapid. "Y-yes,” you manage with a strained voice, your mind becoming overwhelmed with arousal “keep doing that”. 
You squeeze around his fingers, feeling the tight coil in your lower stomach getting closer and closer to finally snapping.
Your body responds to his touch in the most natural of ways, your back arching and head bowing in a display of utter pleasure. Your hand instinctively searches for contact, grabbing hold of his knee as the overwhelming sensation begins to consume you.
Your legs twitch, eyes rolling back in your head and a rather loud moan escapes your lips as the satisfaction you feel begins to peak. 
Bliss floods your entire being and the mixture of your moans and whimpers blend together in a melodic harmony. Every movement of his hand guides you through the waves of ecstasy, sending shivers through your body. 
Crosshair hums approvingly as you come down from your sigh. Almost reluctantly, he takes his hand away from you and examines his sticky but steady fingers. “My hand hasn’t been able to do so much and remain so still since… well, ever since Tantiss” he comments.
Trying to give your shaky legs more time to recover, you fix your panties before you reposition your skirt. Stealing a glance at Crosshair, you’re glad to see you’re not the only one with flushed cheeks. You smile almost bashfully as you lean on the rock to stand. 
Crosshair is there to help, gently holding your upper arm as you steady yourself. Despite the sass you gave him earlier and the bliss he just brought you now, you find it hard to maintain eye contact. 
Clearing your throat, you try to regain some of that boldness from before “Well then… good luck with your target practice, I’ll go see if the others have made contact yet”.
“What?!” the sound is almost foreign to you; the sound of an utterly bamboozled Crosshair. 
Pushing yourself off the rock, you feel his grasp slip away from your arm. You continue to walk as you turn around to savor his shocked expression.
“What about me?” he asks, trying to be inconspicuous as he gestures to the tent in his pants “I thought this was about helping me?”.
“Yeah, I know,” you reply with a smirk “you’ll get your reward when you hit the target”. With a wink, you turn your back to him and begin the ascent back. 
Crosshair’s jaw hangs open as he watches you go, and he can’t help but laugh at your audacity.
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AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?
So this whole situation gets rather complicated and quick, so please bear with me… TW for mention of suicide.
I (20m) previously made friends with a younger artist (about 17f by now if I’m remembering correctly; please keep an open mind here) after being unaware of their age and just following them for their art for a few years. One day, when I was 18 and I believe they were maybe 15-16, I reached out to let them know that I had been deeply influenced by their art and thought a lot of their work was very fun and humorous, and we kept in contact afterward mostly through public chat spaces, just joking around with each other and sharing art and memes and the like.
I want to stress that I had absolutely zero foul intentions here. They were a lonely kid without many friends, and I felt for them; I went through a lot of the same shitty situations (namely an abusive home) they were actively going through, and genuinely all I wanted was to offer them a safe space and a friend. I know that people sometimes get weird about friendships across age gaps, but I sincerely only wanted to help where I could. To this day I’m still not sure if I went about it the right way, but that’s a discussion for my therapist and not for here.
Fast forward some time. I discover that the other artist didn’t have a lot of friends for various reasons that were all linked mostly back to their immaturity, which I didn’t mind considering that they were. Y’know. Kids. But part of this immaturity was just… not understanding time restraints and boundaries, and that reflected back at me, despite multiple instances of me sitting them down and having talks with them about it as gently as I could. These talks were usually just about them messaging me constantly, literally non-stop, in the middle of the night, during school hours, etc etc etc. During this time, I became sick — very sick. I stand now chronically ill and permanently disabled. I was sick, scared, and exhausted, and yet I was expected by this friend to talk to them literally constantly, or else they would get upset. And it took a further toll on my ailing health, because no matter how many times I tried to tell them that I physically couldn’t talk to them as much as they were demanding I do, it never seemed to resonate.
I started reaching out less and less, because I just physically couldn’t handle talking to someone That Much for That Long… It wasn’t personal. It came to a point where our chats went completely silent, and even if I did reach out to try and talk, they wouldn’t reply or would only do so in very short, clipped responses. So I respected the obvious decision they had come to and just… kind of stopped trying to reach out. I was still a follower of theirs, though, so I would visit their profile every now and then just to make sure they were doing okay as a means to soothe my own worries.
Then they made a post alluding to offing themselves, went radio silent across all their platforms for a few days despite my best efforts to reach out, until I tried to check up on them again and found myself blocked everywhere. This made me panic; I genuinely didn’t know what to do. It took me a while to even remember that I could just… log in to a new account online rather than the app to check up on them, and after a few weeks of doing this, I was relieved to find that they’re still doing okay and back to posting semi-regularly. I don’t know the details, but at least they’re alive, y’know? That’s all that matters to me. Now, I just try to check every month or so to make sure they’re okay, and I’ll send them little anon messages trying to uplift them, or tell them to stay strong… I’m aware that it probably falls under stalker territory or something, but I genuinely only want the best for them, and as it stands, I don’t have a whole lot of other ideas for how to at least make sure that they’re okay…
Anyway… I’m making this post because there was another “AITA” post that got torn apart by people for someone evading a block for some reason or another, and I guess I was just compelled to see if this story would get a similar reaction… 🤷‍♂️
So yeah. AITA for block evading to make sure someone is still alive?
What are these acronyms?
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miniwheat77 · 1 day
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You shouldn’t kiss me like this. (Ghost x Reader.)
!nsfw, smut, unprotected p in v sex, cheating, Ghost manipulates reader, coercion, non con just in case, NO MINORS!
The title is a song from Toby, was kinda my inspiration, RIP❤️
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The day Ghost met you, he knew you were his.
He got close with you immediately, and you spent all day every day around each other and Captain Price knew better than to separate the both of you on missions. Ghost wanted to be near you all the time and while Captain Price thought it was a little odd, he just figured Ghost was overprotective.
Nobody knew Ghosts real intentions, and when he found out you had a boyfriend, it felt like someone tore a hole in his chest.
But that didn’t stop him. He knew you were his and he knew he’d do anything for that to happen. Anything.
The closer you got, the more touchy he was. It was friendly, he always made sure it was friendly. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and scare you off because he knew how affectionate he so desperately wanted to be. So he did the bare minimum. He moved your hair out of your face, he’d touch your shoulders, wrap his hand around your back when he was leading you somewhere. He did everything, he wanted you to know how good he could treat you. So much better than your boyfriend ever could.
One night, he made a mistake.
You looked so pretty, you were up late with him. He was in your room and he was cracking jokes and you were laughing. Something he wanted to hear every single second of every day.
He kissed you.
You mistakenly kissed him back, before pulling yourself away from him. You started to panic because you have a boyfriend and you couldn’t do that to him. Ghost ended up leaving and you were stressed out.
He apologized to you the next day, said he didn’t know what had gotten into him and you were cold for weeks afterward. Ghost nearly went crazy. Johnny even caught him tearing apart his room when nobody else was around. He wouldn’t tell Johnny why but the sudden separation between the both of you told him everything he needed to know. This is where Johnny knew a serious talk needed to happen.
He didn’t hesitate to tell Ghost everything he needed to hear, he knew he didn’t want to. But he had to. He explained that his behavior was obsessive and dangerous and that he knew he likes you, but he needed to calm down. If he couldn’t keep his cool over something like this, he shouldn’t be around you. And while Ghost understood, he couldn’t help himself. You were his, not that stupid boyfriend of yours. He could show you, he will. Ghost even had your boyfriend’s location pin pointed on a map, he’d have you.
By any means necessary.
Of course he didn’t want it to come to that. It was his last resort. But he was willing to do anything.
You were distant after and he was already going to lose you. He could feel it deep down, he crossed a path he couldn’t come back from. There was no going back now. So late at night, his boots still clad on his feet, he made his way to your room.
He made sure to walk quietly, he didn’t want anyone to know it was him. He didn’t want anyone to know where he was going, what he was going to do. He opens up your door, you’re half asleep, perking up when your door opens. “Ghost?” You ask tiredly, clicking on your lamp. You’re rubbing your eyes and his heart aches in his chest. You look so pretty when you’re like this. He adores waking you in the morning because of your tired eyes and how warm and comfortable you are. He can’t stand another day of this. Not one more.
“Y/N.” He sighs. He closes your door behind him, stepping inside. “I.. I need to know.” He sits on the edge of your bed, lifting your hand into his. “Did you feel anything when I kissed you?” He asks you. “Ghost-“
“Please… just be honest.” His eyes glow under the moonlight. Tears gathering at his waterline.
Of course, you don’t know that they’re fake. Crocodile tears.
“Ghost.. I can’t do this with you. I have a boyfriend.” You go to move, but he stops you. “That means nothing to me, darling. Y/N.. I love you. I know that I said it was an accident. But it wasn’t. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I think you’re so pretty, so fucking amazing.” He sucks in a sharp breath. Hating that the tears are becoming real now. How fucking weak he looks in front of you, how dare you open him up like this and reject him.
He swallows hard, trying to stop the cries seeping from his throat. “Just listen to me..” he breathes. “I can take care of you.”
“I… I did feel something when I kissed you. But you and I both know that I have a boyfriend and I can’t be acting a fool with you when I’m still with him.” You look up at him. “It’s not fair, and you know that Ghost. I’m not a cheater.”
“Than why’d you kiss me back?”
You clench your eyes closed. He knows why.
Because you’re overwhelmed, have feelings that you can’t change or fight off. He knows you like him too, he needs your boyfriend gone.
Suddenly, something comes to mind.
“You’ve opened up to me. About him.” Ghost mumbles. “You said that he’s being distant. That he’s got some friends he’s going out with and not messaging you back.”
He shakes his head. “That’s not normal Y/N. He.. please just look into it. I care about you.” He sighs.
“You’re just saying that..” you sigh. “It’s only.. what? 4pm on the west coast? Call him Y/N.”
“Ghost, you’re acting really weird. I’ll call him when I’m up.” Ghost shakes his head, he can’t do it.
He forces himself into you, smashing his lips to yours and you try to force him off but he’s not letting go this time. He keeps you close, moving his lips with yours. He straddles you and eventually, you give in.
“Ghos- plea-“
“Simon!” You shove him back. “I was going to do it when I went home okay!” He freezes up at your use of his name.
You barely get the words out before he can kiss you again. He looks shocked. “I.. I was going to when I got home from deployment.” You clench your eyes shut. “What?”
“I was going to cut things off with him. When it was fair. I’m not a cheater, Simon.”
He sighs. He can’t help but feel like this is you just saying this, to get him away from you. “I want this, I do. But it’s wrong. You wouldn’t want this done to you.” You sigh. “Okay.. okay Y/N.” He stands up.
“I’ll leave you alone.” He sighs. “But.. I want you to know.” He pauses just before he grasps the door handle. “I would do anything for you. I think you’re the most beautiful, kind, loving girl. You are perfect in every single way, and nothing will change that.” He breathes, stepping outside. He closes the door behind himself. You sigh. Seeing your phone sitting on your nightstand. You pick it up, he’s right. It’s only about 4pm where he’s at.
You open up your conversation, seeing plenty of sent messages and none in return. Ghost is right, he’s been acting weird. You said so yourself. You breathe. Fingers typing across the screen before you can stop yourself.
We need to talk.
After all of those messages, of course this is the one he responds to.
What’s going on?
You breathe out. You hate this. You hate this more than anything.
I’m going to ask you something and I need you to be completely honest with me.
He hesitates for a second. The chat bubble appears and disappears a couple of times before you finally get a message back.
Okay.
Is there someone else?
Again, the bubble appears and disappears a few times. A few minutes go by.
Y/N…
Please. Just be honest.
You clench your eyes shut, you don’t know if you should feel relieved or sad.
I’m sorry.
Why didn’t you tell me?
I wanted to wait until you got back from deployment. When it was fair.
Seeing as those same words left your lips, you want to scream.
I have to sleep now, we’ll talk about this tomorrow. But this is officially the end of us.
I love you. I always will.
Goodnight.
You set your phone down and stand up. Marching right out your door to go to his room. You barge right inside and you startle him completely, he doesn’t even have his mask on. “Y/N- Jesus Christ.” He spins around. His back to you. The only thing he has on are his jeans. No shirt, no boots. No mask. Just bare Simon.
You wrap your hand around his torso and force him to look at you. Planting your lips right into his. He kisses you back but knows, he can’t.
He pushes you back. “Y/N- you were right okay? You shouldn’t kiss me like this.” He sighs. He’s staring down at you. “I wouldn’t want you doing this to me so you’re right..” he sighs. And just as Simon is having his come to Jesus moment.
“He’s been seeing someone else, just shut up and kiss me Riley.”
Hearing those words leave your lips, finally. Blood seeming to stop right in his veins. Heart hesitating before it takes its next beat. You’re his.
He does. He kisses you again, lifting you up and letting you wrap your legs around his waist and laying you down on his bed, going to stake his claim. You’re his, you’ve always been his and he’ll show you. He’ll do whatever it takes.
He pulls away for just a second to tug his jeans down, you’re pushing your shorts down. Desperate to feel him.
His tip is nudging at your entrance and he kisses you, swallowing up your moan as he sinks inside of you. Filling you up. It’s been months since you’ve been touched like this. Years since it’s felt as good as he feels now. To be with someone who wants you, who’ll do anything for you. You cry into his lips but it’s muffled, he’s probably more rough than he intends but he can’t help himself. He needs this, he needs you. He drives himself into you until you’ve got tears bordering your waterline, how the hell you managed to wait this long with someone like Simon at your door at every beck and call. Looking back now, it was over from the start. A neglectful boyfriend and a man who’ll worship the ground you walk on, it was doomed.
Simon knew it from the beginning, the tightness of you around him, finally giving into him. It’s bittersweet and he relishes in the way you feel around him. He’s going to cherish you, and he’s going to make sure you’re his forever no matter what the cost. He lowers one of his hands, pulling back to look at you. He takes a second to really take you in, lips parted. Your cheeks are flushed and you’re panting. Soaking wet around him.
He rubs circles into your clit with his fingers, not applying too much pressure but just enough until you’re melting into him completely. He works his hips into yours, gliding between your walls perfectly, working the best orgasm you’re sure you’ll ever have out of you. It’s desperate and it’s sloppy, but neither of you care. You need this, you’ve needed this for months. “Fuck.. you feel so good Y/N.” He whines. You raise your hands up to cup his face, pulling him down into you again. “You feel good too Simon, so good.” You hiss. This is the first time you’ve gotten a good like at Simon with his mask off. His skin is clear and he’s got stubble filling out his jawline. His eyes are piercing and he’s stunning. You pull him in to kiss you again.
You can feel your thighs starting to shake and his thrusts are getting sloppy and desperate. You’re both so close to the edge.
“Cum with me.” His voice is almost at a whisper.
The knot unravels and he kisses you again just as you go to cry out, he groans into the kiss. It drowns out the sounds from the both of you. He rides our your high, taking a few extra thrusts to staple it what he wants. Filling you up to the hilt. He doesn’t care about the consequences anymore, he doesn’t care what happens now, now that you’re with him.
He rests his forehead on your chest. Fucked out and exhausted. The stress of this morning and you avoiding him long gone. He didn’t expect this.
“I’m sorry about your boyfriend, Y/N.”
You snort at him. “Are you though?“
“I’m sorry that he hurt you.”
You roll your eyes. “I think we both know by meeting you, we were doomed from the start.”
He laughs at this. “Maybe you’re right, but I’ve got you now. And I won’t take advantage of that. As long as you’re with me, you’ll always be safe. And I swear I’ll take care of you, no matter the cost.” He breathes. “Even if you don’t want it.” You can’t help but smile. Pulling him into you, hugging him close to you.
Maybe this is everything you’ve been looking for.
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