#he would make for such a sweet boyf | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erwinsvow · 3 months

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𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.

author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!

now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)

word count: 13.5k

warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!

“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.

You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.

And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.

“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”

“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.

“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.

And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.

But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.

If only you knew.

Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears.

౨ৎ

“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family.

“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”

“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink.

“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.”

“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”

“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches.

“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.

You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.

When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket.

You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.

He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.

“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.

“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.

“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”

“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”

“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?”

“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”

“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control.

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back.

“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why.

“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.

“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.

“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.

“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.

“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with.

“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back.

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away.

“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”

“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.

“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking.

“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.

“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”

“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.

“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.

“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”

“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.

“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.

You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features.

“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.

“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”

“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.”

“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.

“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.

“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.

“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.

“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”

“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.

“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”

“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.

“Not yet, you’re not.”

“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”

“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought.

“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act.

He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.

The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.

But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.

He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning.

“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting.

“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him.

“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”

You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.

“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.

Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.

Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house.

“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body.

“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off.

“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.

“Nothing.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you.

“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”

You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.

౨ৎ

You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.

The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now.

You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore.

It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.

That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.

You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now.

You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them.

Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much.

This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.

“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.

You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.

“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes.

Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.

And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it.

But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t.

And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life.

You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same.

You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone.

There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.

So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!

In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet.

You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it.

Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.

“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding.

“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.

“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled.

“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”

“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.”

You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured.

“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”

“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”

“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.

“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”

You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again.

“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough.

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.

“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.

“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.

“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him.

“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.

“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.

“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”

“I-I…I just-”

“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand.

“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?”

“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister.

“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.

“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?”

“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy.

“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?”

“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.

“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?”

You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you.

“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.

A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.

“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.

“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”

“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily

“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”

“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”

“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you.

“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.

“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.

She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second.

“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”

“Yeah.”

Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.

“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door.

“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”

“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.

“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”

“Huh?” he questions.

“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.

“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”

“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”

That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened.

౨ৎ

The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera.

The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away.

R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?

that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.

R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it

R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are

did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault

R: She’s five, genius

R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid

౨ৎ

Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count.

And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation.

But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.

But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers.

You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.

You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth.

You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done.

“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on.

You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.

Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.

You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.

The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there.

You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.

You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.

“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs.

“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”

“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”

“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”

“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.

You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.

“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them.

“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her.

“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around.

“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again.

“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.

“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”

“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”

“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.

“What’s inside? I thought-”

“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.

“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”

You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you.

Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic.

“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.

“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple.

“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist.

“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.

You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about.

You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are.

You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.

“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out.

You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.

Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.

And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.

At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.

“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.

“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup.

“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.

“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?”

The way he says it you believe him.

You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want.

You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.

“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?”

His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this.

“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.

He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you.

It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck.

He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone.

Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.

Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way.

౨ৎ

A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.

It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get

along, but they look like they’re fine now.

“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.

“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”

“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”

“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly.

“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.

“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months

ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.

“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”

You guess that God was on your side today.

R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?

sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.

Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.

You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.

The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.

“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”

“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.

A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.

“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel.

“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”

“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”

“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”

“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”

“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.

“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.

“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”

“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”

“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.

“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.

“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”

“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire.

“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?”

“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.

“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?”

“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”

“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”

“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race.

“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”

“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.”

And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron.

“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away.

“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”

The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence.

“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.”

You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.

౨ৎ

Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath.

Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you

Princess: please rafey

“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.

“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.

“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.

“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”

“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”

“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”

“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.

“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.

“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside.

He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”

Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.

“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”

Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered.

“Make you forget?” he questions.

“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been.

There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.

“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.

His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.

You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.

“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”

You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all.

“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin.

“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.

“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.

“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.

His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it.

“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down.

“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.

Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.

The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.

His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.

His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.

You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once.

You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it.

His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again.

You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed.

Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.

Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to

touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.

“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”

“No, I did, I swear-”

“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.

“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.

“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed.

“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.

“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”

You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted.

He looks up again.

“You ready, kid?”

“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.

You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him.

“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.

“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”

“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.

“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.

“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set.

You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.

He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again.

You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.

“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”

And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.

“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.

A few minutes pass by.

“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.

Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.

“Feel better, kid?”

“So much better, Rafey.”

You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.

JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?

౨ৎ

#eeeeeee!!!! thoughts????#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #obx

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osachiyo · 6 months

Text

༅ "wrap your legs around my waist" ༄ | beast!dazai

.pairing ➺ beast!dazai x assistant!reader

.notes ➺ n/sfw content (mdni), fem!reader, cockwarming, office sex (if you see a pattern here no u don't), praise, name calling (slut, whore etc)

not proofread throughly don't come at me lovelies 🙏🏽

➺ event details & m.list

"be a good girl and sit pretty f'me," dazai whispered, thumb circling your pretty clit as his cock was nestled deep inside you. you felt borderline delirious, being impaled on his cock without any movement− it was so, so cruel of him.

"samu... wanna move s'bad," you sniffed, pretty pink nails clawing at his crisp button up as you tried your very best not to grind down further. "shh, I know baby, I know. must be so hard for a slut like you huh?" he tilted your chin upwards to look at him, heart squeezing at the little tears clinging to your lashline. god, how he loved seeing you cry. only for this though− if anyone even thought about making you, his darling, cry− they wouldn't see the light of day again granted.

"just a few more moments, 'kay? i'm almost done, pretty," he kissed the top of your head before going back to his paperwork, fingers still playing with that cute little clit of yours and you could only sit there and take it. little whimpers and soft moans came out of your mouth everytime he shifted a little− you couldn't tell if he was doing this on purpose or not. either way, it drove you insane.

you weren't the only one being affected by this though, osamu would hiss out a curse whenever you clamped down too tightly around him, your slick dripping down his cock to his balls− completely ruining his trousers. he was resisting the urge to just bend you over his desk and fuck you stupid on his cock and he knew that's exactly what you needed− but he had to be patient. had to resist your sweet cunt clenching and unclenching around his length. you swear you could feel him throb inside of you, the feeling making butterflies erupt in your tummy.

after a few moments, you heard the soft click of the pen and osamu's slightly strained voice, "done." one moment you're cockwarming your boyf− boss, and the next moment you're being hoisted up and slammed against the wall, osamu's hushed voice hitting your ears, "wrap your legs around my waist, need to fuck you now." and you complied− jumping as he picks you up, your thighs separated by his torso while he kisses you feverishly. his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and you moaned softly, letting him in your mouth as he suckled on your tongue, hips rutting into the heat of your soft cunt, nearly slipping out from how eager he was. yeah, you definitely weren't the only one desperate to have him slamming into you.

"f-fuck− feels s'good, baby," he buried his head into the crook of your neck, hips still not slowing down− his pelvis grinding against your clit with every fast thrust. your hands clawed at his back, whining for him to take his coat off, you wanted to touch him so bad. he only chuckled, squeezing your ass between his long fingers, "wanna touch me, yeahhh? beg for it, sweet girl."

of course he'd make you beg, he always does. "wanna touch you s'o baaad− p-please!" you babbled, pulling and tugging on his jet black coat, your words breathy as you gasped, bouncing back to meet his thrusts halfway and he moaned, immensely turned on by your eagerness.

"c'mon, please don't tell me that's the best you can do? I'm sure a whore like you can do better~" he huffed, playfully smacking your ass, "now, beg. properly."

"samu! please− wanna touch you," you gasped, tugging at the hair on the back of his neck. "wanna feel you− pleasepleaseplease let me touch you−!" your cries got cut off by osamu hoisting you up again, holding you up with one arm as he hurriedly took off his coat and threw it across the room− popping the buttons off his white button-up and throwing that away aswell. his attention quickly went back to you, running his cold hands up and down your sides as he shallowly thrusted into you.

your hands immediately flew to scratch at his bandaged back, not too hard though− you know there'd be a punishment awaiting you if the bandages were damaged− and you just wanted to be osamu's good girl today.

his thrusts grew deeper, lithe fingers reaching between your bodies to play with your clit and you moaned, tightening around his cock. the brunette let out a guttural growl at the feeling of your cunt swallowing him so deliciously, the feeling was downright addicting to him− he needed to feel you cum around his cock.

his hips were slamming into you now, fingers gripping your hips so tightly that you knew they were gonna leave marks. you didn't care though− not when getting your brains fucked out by the port mafia boss.

your vision was hazy, drool dripping down your glossed lips− but you could still see how damn pretty he was. how fucking pretty osamu looked while fucking your lights out− thick brown locks disheveled, face flushed as tiny beads of sweat gathered on his forehead− some of his bangs sticking to his skin and fuck− you could almost cum from the sight alone.

what you didn't know, though, was that he was thinking the same things about you. oh, how your pretty face scrunched up in pleasure everytime he rubbed against a particular spot− it made him abuse and hit that spot over and over again, just to see your eyes slightly roll back as chants of his name rolled off your tongue. he loved the way your breasts bounced with each thrust of his unforgiving hips, made him want to bite and suck on them so much that they'd be left red and swollen. god, the mere image made his cock twitch inside of your velvety walls.

you gasped when his fingers sped up with his thrusts, ripping out gurgled mewls and moans out of you, your head lolling back against the wall as he encouraged you to cum− and you were close.

"cum on this c-cock− fuuck−!" he got cut off by his own growl, hips moving at an erratic pace− "soak this fuckin' cock, angel, now." and you did, right on queue− spraying him with your juices, now dripping down your ass cheeks as you wail from the burning overstimulation− only to get muffled by the palm of your boss. your body was completely slack in his hold, jaw unhinged as your thighs burned from the constant friction.

with one final thrust, he shuddered before flooding your insides with his seed, balls pressing against your ass and head thrown back− exposing the column of his slim throat, you wanted to bite down on it.

he slowly pulled out shortly after, pulling your panties back up and letting the waistband snap against your heated skin before smacking your ass playfully. what a damn tease. you could feel his sticky release pooling in your panties, the sensation was uncomfortable but you didn't dare disobey his wishes.

"alright, off you go now. I'm sure you have work to do, no?" osamu smirked, patting your ass softly before pushing you forward.

you wanted to wipe that little smirk off his face so bad− you were so gonna get back at him for this.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

a/n: sorry if this is ooc y'all I haven't read beast fully </3 kinda hate this but wtv, promise the next one will be better

TAGS »»————> @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @lxverss @lynxxyyy @nanamibeloved

@sorahatsumi @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @hannzai @honeycombflowers @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @poisonedslop @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @boba-is-good @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter @4xxxv @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @qqingque @lunaeheroine18 @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @leftrunawaybanana @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @otakudul @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

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astonmartinii · 7 months

Text

i don't wanna be funny anymore | daniel ricciardo social media au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem podcaster!reader

i don't wanna be funny anymore, i got a too short skirt, maybe i can be the cute one. is there room in the band? i don't need to be the front man, if not then i'll be the biggest fan

based on i don't wanna be funny anymore by lucy dacus (this song speaks to me, i love lucy (she's also AMAZING live))

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 341,203 others

yourusername: hey girl hey, new ep coming at you fast this friday all about rotting. as the twilight weather rolls in and it becomes the season of all too well, we'll talk about rotting, how we can do it right and how not to lose your mind this october (a cautionary tale, i've already lost mine)

view all comments

user1: my queen hands down five stars already

user2: the bag is so real and the way i know it's a tote that does NOT stay on your shoulder

yourusername: it's the enchante tote, shameless plug for my man

danielricciardo: you singlehandedly sell out my totes every time baby

user3: not this actual fan erasure 🤨

user4: babe be real, she has a massive platform and there was a direct correlation between the first time she plugged a tote and the fact that they sold out that day you guys just love being mean

user5: i'm mean cause i don't want some leech taking credit for dan's hardwork and his fans?

user6: he fucking said it? you guys grasp at straws every time so try and justify your agenda against her

maxverstappen1: idk what rotting is but i'll still listen to every second

yourusername: thanks maxy, though i'd say going on the sim for up to 14 hours of the day is bordering on rotting

maxverstappen1: productive rotting !

yourusername: yes, i guess your sweet little treats are trophies?

maxverstappen1: that would make sense (don't tell my trainer but i do enjoy the little fruity drinks from starbucks)

user7: yall wanna say we're mean but she's literally invalidating max, saying he's rotting on the sim is so invalidating to everything he went through when he was younger

user8: how did we get there? this grasp on straws has to be studied... from a joke about the sim to invalidating abuse?

user9: i honestly thank the lord for dan and max because they're so supportive no matter the shitstorm that yall throw at y/n everyday

user10: literally max is even listening to podcasts... real friends, i hope one day she feels confident enough to come to races

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen, georgerussell63 and 1,034,239 others

tagged: yourusername, enchante

danielricciardo: buckle up, enchante is going to the rodeo 🐎

view all comments

user13: i shall be breaking the bank

user14: dan so smart, he looks like a good boyf for including y/n but didn't include her face

user15: yall ever listen to yourself talk, you need to be put in time out for real

yourusername: we all know the phrase, save a horse, ride a...

danielricciardo: daniel?

yourusername: YUP

user16: ugh there are children who are fans of daniel, she's so gross

user17: do you ever get tired of doing all of that mental gymnastics?

yourusername: can't wait for the tote drop for this collection, yall WON'T be disappointed

user18: yes, i will always trust mother's tote recommendations

user19: anyone who carries that much shit knows what makes a good tote

yourusername: this one has survived two dostoevsky book, an unreasonably large water bottle, a laptop and microphone

user19: thank you ma'am

maxverstappen1: real love is dressing as a cowgirl for your needy boyfriend

yourusername: the things we do for love (i actually had so much fun)

user20: here y/n goes doing all the publicity, but never going to races, clearest gold digger attention whore wag of all time

user21: surely a real attention whore would go to every race to get the screen time and papped and all that jazz?

excerpt of y/n y/ln's podcast where she addresses her absences in the paddock.

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 412,349 others

yourusername: life recently lol, the enchante tote is taking a beating

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user24: she's such a crybaby making dan use up an entire portion of his interview to coddle her

user25: she doesn't come to races cause of people like you invading her privacy and being rude and here you are ... proving her point

danielricciardo: pretty lady i can't wait to be back in your arms

yourusername: waiting outside the airport now

danielricciardo: we haven't even taken off yet babe

yourusername: i know i just miss you and can't wait to see your handsome face

user26: dan must be saying this shit at gun point cause there's no way he actually thinks she's pretty

user27: are you clinically blind? cause we must not be seeing the same girl

maxverstappen1: the aperol rawdogging the bag, you are SO brave

yourusername: living life on the edge, is this that thrill all you drivers talk about?

maxverstappen1: i may drive at over 200 kmh but i'd never risk my tote like that

yourusername: is it worse that i have a jar of olives in there as well, one drop and it's so over for me

maxverstappen1: OLIVES? remind me NOT to hug you when you pick us up

danielricciardo: if you want that hug you gonna have to get in line boy

user28: she picks them up from the airport? that's so cute

user29: someone tell her the gross girl aesthetic isn't cute

user30: babe don't worry no matter the aesthetic you have daniel will never want you x

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, christianhorner and 982,344 others

tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo

maxverstappen1: finally went on my bff's (no 1 in the world) podcast after i finally convinced her yall ain't shit - oh and dan was there for emotional support x

view all comments

user31: SO ICONIC

user32: ep on repeat forever, they're so funny

yourusername: for a man who hates podcasts, you were a star i think the memes hit you hard

maxverstappen1: i enjoy the PROFESSIONALS could you imagine doing a podcast with lando

landonorris: why am i catching strays

danielricciardo: i wouldn't say that too loud, i got about 20 texts as soon as you posted this demanding i ask y/n to be on the show

yourusername: oooooooooo the girls are fighting

landonorris: so can i come on?

yourusername: i'm sure we can schedule something

maxverstappen1: don't say i didn't warn you y/n

user33: ugh now she's going to whore around the rest of the grid

user34: for real wasn't dan enough? she's not even pretty enough to whore herself out

user35: you people have no reading comprehension cause you see how dan says yall are insane and yall keep proving him right

danielricciardo: i'm so proud of you pretty girl

yourusername: i love you cowboy

danielricciardo: forever obsessed with you

user36: i'm living for y/n basically telling all these insecure weirdos to fuck off

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, christianhorner and 603,451 others

tagged: danielricciardo

yourusername: who was gonna tell me these cars are loud as shit irl

view all comments

user39: someone tell sky to stop zooming in on her i don't pay to her her ugly ass

user40: cry your heart out bro everyone else is happy

danielricciardo: oops i think you're my lucky charm you now have to come to every race ever sorry not sorry

yourusername: gosh i think that might be true - i'll be there! (but for real you are so so talented and don't need a lucky charm)

danielricciardo: i'm just so happy to share this with you, i love you so much, i'm sorry people have been so cruel

yourusername: people are passionate about you and rightly so, but i appreciate you protecting me baby

user41: imagine being this irrelevant and demanding protection in the paddock ... the audacity

user42: you finally came to the paddock and this is what you wore?

user43: she's wearing danny merch? if she didn't yall would have a problem with that as well so please just be quiet

maxverstappen1: i need you to come every weekend cause you're the only one drunk danny will listen to

yourusername: we had practice with all the wine tasting we did for his wine line

danielricciardo: i am NOT that bad

maxverstappen1: tbf it's usually him just crying about how much he loves you

yourusername: AWWWWWW (i also cry about how much i love you)

user44: gosh this is my favourite f1 couple

user45: hopefully now she has her dose of fame she'll fuck off

user46: HAVE A DAY OFF

danielricciardo

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danielricciardo: as we're nearing our two year anniversary i wanted to say a couple things. one. i love you so much. when you came into my life i was in a bad place and you truly taught me to love myself again and how to love my sport again. you're the most amazing woman ever, the kindest soul and the most beautiful girl ever. two. i am so thankful for the support i have, i do not allow the disrespect some have given y/n. you guys have no real perception of relationships between athletes and fans. you do not have the right to comment on y/n in the way you are. you take extremely low blow and have the gall to confront her in public as well. do not call yourself a fan of mine when you treat the people i love like this. my team will now begin to monitor comment sections and will seek to block and report accounts doing this. thank you and i love you y/n.

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note: hope yall enjoyed!! i love danny and i saw the danny ric honky tonk this morning and had to write about him. i'd also had this idea for a while but didn't know who to write for lol. please listen to the song i love lucy so much and the song is so relatable xx

also anyone who has requested - i am working on them (but as per some questions in my asks, as for right now i do not write for footballers, if i become less disillusioned with the sport (thanks chelsea) this may change)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #daniel ricciardo instagram au #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo #astonmartinii

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yeokii · 1 month

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ALL FOR US — SIM JAEYUN

synopsis . after many attempted tries of salvaging your relationship, jake gave up, letting you slip through his fingers ┆(bookshelf)

재윤 :: boyf! to ex! jake x fmr . . . O.5 K — angst yayㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwarnings 🎱 toxicty, cheating accusations, crying, break ups (fun stuff)

PROD. YEOKII this was inspired by all for us (from the euphoria soundtrack) angst is so much easier to write than fluff

Jake knew it.

He knew it the moment you lost that spark in your eyes whenever you looked at him. He knew it the moment you would awkwardly smile whenever he said something cheesy. But wasn’t it a bit too fast?

His thoughts flooded through his head, overthinking every possible cause and outcome, every single one of them making his eyes water.

He looked down at you, your figure being enveloped by him as you rested so fondly against him, so unaware of what was going through his head. His grip on you tightened as he kissed your forehead, trying not to let his tears escape onto the pillow where his head rested.

Fuck.

He couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t help it when he knew you weren’t in love with him anymore. He just didn’t understand why. And once again, for the nth time, his heart started to crack again.

Because he knew. He knew this wasn’t the first time you fell out of love with him. This familiar pattern of yours became poignant in your relationship. The first time felt like a nightmare. When you were both silently eating a pepperoni pizza, you let the words slip out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could say before you left the kitchen and out of the shared apartment you and Jake had so many memories in.

It took a bit of begging and crying from each side to make you fall in love with him again. It didn’t take long, but Jake felt like dying each second.

The second time it hit felt like a slap to him. You accused him of cheating, while all he did was stay overtime at the company he worked at to earn a higher income to buy you your anniversary gift.

His throat felt dry, and a lump was stuck there. With screaming and fighting, he finally pulled out the necklace you craved for the longest time, which made you cry on the spot. Like the hopeless lover Jake was, he came running to you, pulling you into his embrace, and ushered sweet nothings into your ear while soothing your back.

But this time, it was different.

You were more silent. More disconnected. You stopped saying “I Love You” back. Dates happened once in an eternity. It felt one-sided. You didn't have a reason why. The number of times he salvaged this relationship was all gone in a second.

“I know,” he whispered.

You looked up at him, knowing you felt too nervous to sleep. His teary-eyed gaze met with your guilty one.

He knew you loved him.

But he also knew you weren’t in love with him.

“I’m so sorry,” you said.

He hugged you even tighter, breaking eye contact.

“Go to sleep, princess,” he hushed you.

Tears started pouring out of your eyes, and the same happened to him. That night, you both went to sleep with uncontrollable hushed sobs, knowing that you wouldn’t see him again in the morning.

tags . @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom @redm4ri @hanniluvi @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss

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spamgyu · 1 month

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PRETTY BOY // College!Mingyu AU – small purses and labels

"Even if the sky's on fire. Got you here, it's alright, with me ..."

Started off as this prompt: no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable genre: tooth-aching fluff

this is based on these two requests - one of them i cant find bc i am a disorganized mess but it's from 🎀 and the other is from this anon

"Can you put my keys in your purse?" Mingyu batted his lashes at her, holding his car keys out.

Y/n glanced at his hand and then at the tiny shoulder bag in her hand – raising a brow at him. "I hope you know this literally only fits a lipgloss and my will to live."

Curse the current trend of tiny baguette bags – why must they be so cute yet so small, only able to hold far less than what she could probably stuff into her pockets.

It wasn't that her outfit needed a purse. They were simply getting bagels.

But it did make complete her look, and that was more than enough of an excuse to use it.

"Pleaseeee." He dragged his word.

It wasn't like his keys would take up much space anyways – it wasn't like hers that had multiple unneccesary key chains hanging off of it.

It was literally just his key fob, house keys, and dorm keys. It would take up 4 inches at most.

Taking the set with sigh, Y/n threw it in her purse before holding it out for him.

"What do you want me to do with that?" Mingyu blinked.

"It's heavy now and I don't want to carry it."

"Y/n," Mingyu let out a chuckle. "You can't possibly be ser— yeah okay."

Taking the black bag from her hand, Mingyu slipped the strap awkwardly up his arm – the tiny loop stopping mid-bicep.

"Am I serving?"

The girl let out a laugh, pulling out her phone to snap a picture at how ridiculous her boyf– her friend, looked. "You could have just held it."

"But am I serving?" He repeated, this time placing a hand on his jutted out hip.

"Yes. You served and ate." Y/n rolled her eyes at his antics – he never did stop with his foolishness since they began .... talking.

If anything, it persisted much more – Mingyu revealing more and more of his true self and y/n doing the same.

There wasn't a single day they were together that wasn't filled with laughter – laughs that left tears in their eyes.

"Mingyu?"

A grown woman's voice caught the two's attention – Mingyu mostly, whipping his head at the source of the familiar voice.

"Mom!" His eyes wide.

It wasn't that he was afraid, as if he was caught doing something wrong. No, never that. He was simply surprised – especially considering he lived two cities away and there was no reason for his parents to be in their college town.

"Wha- what are you guys doing here?" He leaned in to place a kiss on each of his parent's cheeks before stepping back to stand next to y/n, who was awkwardly shifting her weight from one foot to another.

If he had been any one of her friends, she would have happily stuck her hand out and introduced herself to Mingyu's parents.

But their situation was different.

They were in a grey area. For now, at least.

They were much more than friends; sharing sweet hushed words in the midst of a crowd, their hands naturally gravitating to one another when they walked side by side, his lips finding a home on her forehead whenever he greeted or bid her a goodbye.

But they weren't official either. There was no label.

"This is– um–"

"You must be Mingyu's girlfriend." The older woman cut her son off with a smile. "All we've heard during calls is your name and how wonderful you are."

"Mom." Mingyu warned through his teeth, eyes just as wide as when he first heard her call out for him earlier.

Y/n bit back the smile that threatened to form on her lips.

He talked about her.

Constantly.

More importantly, he addressed her as his girlfriend.

Y/n has always been confident in herself, and she thought she would be the same when it came to dating; but to say she didn't have some doubts in her and Mingyu would be a lie. She knew she wasn't the only one with her eyes set on the six-foot charismatic basketball player; y/n was well aware there are girls dying to be at her spot.

And sure, she may have spent some nights lying awake, thinking of the worst – the blissful past few weeks possibly coming down crashing on her. She was a realist, after all.

Mingyu could have anyone, he could be with that girl in 302 – the smart dark haired girl who seemed to know more about sports than y/n did. The one girl she could have sworn Mingyu had his eyes on before they even established a friendship.

Y/n was just like any other girl. She had her insecurities; one of them including Mingyu's true feelings for her.

Despite the fact that he was very transparent with her.

"Oh, don't act all embarrassed now." His mother waved him off. "You even have her purse up your arm. Young love–"

"Alright, we're going." Mingyu spoke quickly, tugging on y/n's arm – who was now giggling.

"It was wonderful meeting you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim." Y/n stood her ground, despite the boy who was practically begging for the ground to swallow him whole.

"Likewise." His father nodded. "We usually have Sunday dinners, you should come along."

Y/n glanced at Mingyu. "I mean it's only fair, considering how much of my family dinners you've crashed."

"Mingyu!" Mrs. Kim gasped.

"Hey! I was invited by coach!" He cried. "I– I'll bring her along, can we please just be excused? I feel like I'm dying here."

The three of them laughed at the poor boy who cowered behind the girl that was practically half his height – dreading the conversation they were about to have the second they stepped away from his parents.

"Have a great rest of your day, kids." Mr. Kim chuckled.

"Thanks." Mingyu mumbled with a sigh, practically dragging y/n away from his parents.

"Girlfriend, huh?" She laughed as the finally reached the store front.

A suppressed groan was heard from Mingyu, using his hands to cover the redness that began to form on his face.

Y/n wasn't upset, not like what Mingyu thought in his head. In fact, she found the whole interaction, and revelation, to be cute – even more now that he was clearly quite embarrassed.

"Do you refer to me as your girlfriend to anyone else?" She brought her hands up to pull his away from his face – their fingers interlocking once they were at his side.

"Um– everyone?" Mingyu kept his eyes trained on his shoes.

"Sorry– what?" Y/n coughed.

"Well– I, we're heading there anyways and– I promise I do plan on asking you to be my girlfriend. I have it all planned it's romant–"

He was speaking fast.

It was a habit of his when he was either excited or nervous; either way, she found it absolutely adorable. Y/n didn't care to listen to the rest of his rambling, leaning up to place a quick kiss on his lips.

"This was romantic." She smiled up at him.

"Wha–"

"I'm your girlfriend."

Mingyu stood frozen, his brain still attempting to process the soft pillows that made contact with his lips – his fingers reaching up to touch the sticky gloss she had left behind.

Peach vanilla.

"I'm your boyfriend." His voice was small, almost as if he was saying it to reaffirm himself.

"Yes."

"I'm your boyfriend!" Mingyu repeated much louder this time, his lips stretched from ear to ear. "Oh, prepared to be so sick of me."

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @niktwazny303 @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo @jaebammie @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose @wonwoobestboyy @rakshithanotrao @mingcouper

(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)

#warning this isnt edited sorry #long time no see......#our favorite best boy is back ehehehe #ITS ALL FLUFF DONT WORRY I GOT SOME OF YALL WITH TRUST ISSUES READY TO FIGHT ME #college!mingyu au #mingyu x reader #mingyu x oc #mingyu drabble #mingyu fluff #mingyu scenarios #spamgyu pretty boy

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toomuchracket · 27 days

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if you're too shy, part 3 (office nerd!matty x reader smut/fluff)

oh nooooooooo, you and your hot sort-of boyf colleague are left alone in the office together, whatever are you to do? teehee! part 1 here, part 2 here. enjoy <3

matty looks so good right now.

the golden hour light streams through the office windows, totally illuminating him in a way that makes him look almost ethereal. leaning round the side of your laptop, you watch as he pulls his jumper over his head, messing up his curls endearingly and revealing those tattooed arms you've spent a lot of time in over the past two weeks, since that fateful night in camden; thinking back to a few nights ago, when one of those arms was tight around your waist and another was braced between your legs, diligently following your instructions, heat starts to pool in your lower stomach, travelling lower and lower until you're forced to clamp your thighs together just to stay sane.

your sigh echoes around the empty-aside-from-both-of-you office, the noise slightly louder than you'd intended. matty looks up, a sweet smile on his gorgeous face. “i know, darling,” he says softly. “just a little bit longer, yeah?”

the phrasing would be infuriating if you weren't totally sure he meant it in earnest. you nod, smiling back at him. “okay. you look amazing right now, by the way.”

“oh, stop it,” matty's cheeks redden quite beautifully. “come and sit with me, beautiful girl - need motivation to finish this conclusion.”

no need to ask you twice.

you put your laptop away and wander over, preening at the way matty looks at you with blatant desire. the lust in his eyes gives you an idea, sending another burst of heat to your core; once you snuggle onto matty's lap and give him a kiss, you speak. “so, you need motivation?”

“desperately,” he sighs, burying his head into your neck and lightly kissing the juncture of your jaw and throat. “i've only got a hundred or so words to go, but it's impossible. help me, angel, please?”

“alright, then,” you kiss his neck in return, smiling into the skin when he hums happily, and press little pecks up his cheek so you can whisper, sultry, in his ear. “as soon as you finish the article, i'll have sex with you.”

matty lets out a noise that can be best described as a squeak, turning to look at you, wide-eyed - if not for the obvious hardening in his trousers beneath you, you'd assume he was horrified. “are you serious? like, you mean,” he wildly gestures to the desk with his free hand. “we could do it here?”

“seems sturdy enough, yeah,” you quip, raking a hand through his hair. “you've never thought about bending me over the desk here? i have. a lot.”

“no, i, um, i've thought about that,” comes the sheepish reply. matty looks at you properly. “but don’t you want our first time to be, like, in a bed? somewhere comfier?”

bless him. you kiss him again. “honestly, matty, i'm less concerned about where than i am when. feel,” you take his free hand and slide it up your dress, across the seam of the lacy underwear you've all but soaked through; he swears quietly, looking down at you in wonder. “and that's only from thinking about you inside me.”

“christ,” matty groans into your neck. “well… wait, aren’t there cameras in here? won't we get caught?”

“none in range of the desks, just the - oh, fuck - just the corridors,” you reply as best you can while matty sucks a bruise into your skin, spurred on by the knowledge you can fuck without interruption. “but even if there were, i know how to localise the cameras and reset and edit the footage without anyone realising it's been changed.”

“i have literally never found you sexier.”

“you're an idiot,” you giggle, pulling matty in for a surprisingly sweet kiss - it soon gets dirty, though, as you move to properly grind down onto him and pull the neckline of your dress down. “how about now?”

in spite of the fact that he’s seen them a few times now, matty whines at the sight of your tits. like, actually whines. the noise goes straight to your panties, and you can feel matty get even harder as you grind deeper onto him to try and relieve your discomfort; he buries his face between your tits, moaning into the skin before trying to take one wholly into his mouth. he’s frantic, actually, hand coming up to clutch the other while his hips begin to jerk up into yours, syncopated and desperate.

oh, you’re going to have so much fun ruining him.

“matty, sweetheart,” you say, in a singsongy voice that morphs into a moan when his teeth scrape against the soft skin on the side of your tit. “fuck, matty, babe, don't get too excited just yet - you've got work to finish, yeah?”

“i'll do it later,” his reply is muffled by your chest.

you pull his hair sharply - not enough to be agonising, but enough to make him look up at you; he looks fucked, cheeks rosy and eyes wild, and you're obsessed with it. but still, you can't let him get away with not listening to you. “but that wasn't the deal, was it, angel?”

matty sighs. “no. m'sorry.”

“good boy,” you kiss his forehead, smiling into him as he whimpers in response to the praise, and readjust yourself so you're sitting on his lap rather than straddling it. when you snuggle into him, pulling your dress back up, he kisses the side of your head, and your heart flutters. “i'll still sit with you while you finish writing, though.”

“thanks, angel.”

your motivational idea seems to work - it only takes matty ten more minutes to finish the article, fingers flying across the keys and pretty lips mouthing the words as he types them. you love watching him work, always have; the intensity in his eyes is magnetic, and flitting your own between his face and lips and hands is only continuing to turn you on. you could have grinded on him again, worked yourself up to tease him, but no. you'll wait, and you'll get off together.

what a delicious thought.

“there. done,” matty hits ctrl-s and exhales, nuzzling into you. “was you proofing part of the deal, or…?”

“nah,” you kiss his head, turning it gently so you can kiss him properly. “i'll just look at it when we get home.”

he smiles dreamily, which is also how you feel about the thought of domesticity together. “i like the sound of that.”

“so do i,” you move to straddle him again, kissing him deeply and grinding down onto him even more so. “you know what else i like the sound of?”

“what’s that?”

you grin. “you fucking me.”

“shit,” matty kisses you hungrily, deeply, sloppily; a trail of spit connects your mouths even as he pulls away, manic. “how do you want me?”

“oh, in so many ways,” you aren’t lying. “but right now… i want to look at you, while you fuck me on this desk. how does that sound?”

he closes his eyes, gulping as he nods enthusiastically. fuck, he’s so pretty. “that- yeah, that sounds good. great! it sounds great. really.”

“yeah?” god, you’re such a bitch for teasing him.

he doesn’t notice, though. “yeah,” matty smiles shyly. “thank you, darling. i really like making you feel good.”

your heart flutters, and all you can do is pull him in by the collar of his shirt and crash your lips onto his. desire practically seeps out of you both, but it’s accompanied by something tender, affectionate - you’re not sure what, exactly, but you like it.

actually, you’re not really sure of anything at the moment, except how badly you need him. you tell matty as much, murmur it into his mouth like it’s gospel, and he practically faints. “alright, sweetheart, alright,” he shakily exhales into your mouth. “let me get you ready.”

before you can snarkily rip him for getting you ready when he’s all but on the edge of climax already, matty’s lifting you up, kissing you as he gently - goosebump-inducing gently - lays you on your back on the desk. the wood is cold against your skin, despite the heat, but it’s nice; what’s even nicer, though, is the way matty fumbles for his discarded jumper and lays it under your head. he looks at you carefully, big beautiful eyes travelling all over your face (surely blushing, looking up at him all gormless and lovesick) to determine how you’re feeling. “is this okay?”

you nod, slightly too overwhelmed to speak. shit. you’re supposed to be the one doing the flustering.

(secretly, you don’t mind the way he’s treating you. not one bit.)

“good,” matty beams. a split-second later, his cheeks are rosy again. “can i, um, can i… look at your boobs again, please?”

“if you unbutton your shirt, yeah - s’only fair, isn’t it?”

he obliges immediately, fingers shaky as he reveals his bare skin. your eyes follow the undoing of the buttons, core pulsing with every new tattoo or muscle group or section of happy trail revealed, and your own fingers work to slide the cap sleeves of your dress down your arms and push the neckline almost to your stomach. the sun-soaked room isn’t cold, but your nipples harden as soon as they're freed from fabric, out of nothing more than sheer arousal.

matty moans when he looks at you, big hands immediately brushing over your chest so he can lean over and kiss you - as he does, you wrap your legs around him and do the best you can to grind onto the rock-hard bulge in his trousers. he whines into your mouth, sliding his hands back down your body to clutch at your hips and do some grinding of his own. one particular movement hits your clothed clit, and he groans into you in response to your whimper. “please, please can i fuck you now? need it, my girl, need you so fucking badly.”

“yes,” you whisper, just as desperately. lifting your hips slightly, you move matty's hands to rest on them on the fabric of your underwear. thankfully, he catches on quickly, and pulls them off you, laying them carefully on the chair; you would think the action was endearing if you could think about anything except the way the cool air hits your soaked cunt, reminds you how turned on you are. “come on, matty,” you spread yourself even further open for him, loving his expression of wanton desire. “need you inside me, sweet boy”.

“yeah,” without taking his eyes off you, matty undoes his trousers, pulling them and his boxers down slightly to free his dick. saliva pools in your mouth as you watch him pump it, memories of being both joyfully surprised at the sheer size of it and determined to take it all down your throat last week flooding back - they're completely overridden by the present, though, specifically matty holding himself with one hand and gliding the other down your slit. “jesus christ. can i, you know…?”

you smirk. “can you what? need you to use your words, be a good boy.”

his face goes scarlet. “can i…” he trails off again, breathing shakily.

“matty.”

“fuck, m'sorry, darling, m'sorry - just keep getting distracted by how gorgeous you are,” coming from anyone else, that line would make you scoff, but earnestness practically drips from matty's words. he smiles as you stroke his face, sighing. “right. can i- can i get inside you?”

for the briefest of seconds, you allow your controlled façade to drop, pleading just so he knows how much you want him. “please, angel. need you to fill me up.”

after leaning down for a soft kiss, matty does just that, slowly pushing into you to a soundtrack of quiet gasps from both your lips and his. you're thankful of the slow pace he moves at, probably to keep himself calm - he's so big that you're practically breathless from the time he's half-in, your body rearranging itself just to take him in the most deliciously painful way.

once he's bottomed out, matty stops moving completely, in favour of putting his hands over his face and breathing heavily. you blink, concerned, doing your best to sit up on your elbows without moving too much. “matty, sweetheart,” you coo. “are you alright?”

“mhmm,” comes the muffled response. he drags his hands down his face, smiling shyly at you when you become visible to each other. “just give me a second - s'been a minute since i did this.”

“of course. i like how this feels, anyway,” you reach up to stroke his face, beaming when he nuzzles into you. “and, if i'm honest, i'm kinda upset that you have actually done it before,” you giggle, only half-joking. “wish it was only me, and you were all mine.”

matty smiles. “well, that's kinda true - you're the only person i've ever done it with that's actually mattered.”

your heart flutters again. “sweet boy. how are you feeling?”

“good. i, um, i think i'm ready.”

music to your ears. “okay. fuck me, then, matty.”

“alright. thank you.”

the tenderness of the whispered reply makes you smile, cheeks almost sore from how wide you beam; as he pulls out and thrusts back into you, they widen in another direction, jaw dropping at the feeling. “shit, matty, just like that.”

“yeah?” matty repeats the motion, over and over and over, eyes rolling back in his head as you clench around them. his jaw is slack, curls beginning to stick to his forehead as he fucks you slowly, cheeks pink. you don't know if you've ever seen anything more beautiful - before you can tell him, though, he speaks. “is this good enough for you? what else do you need me to do?”

what a sweetheart he is.

“you're perfect, angel,” you stroke his smiling face, heart leaping when he turns to kiss your palm. “if you want to, you can speed up, yeah? do what makes you feel good. been so sweet of you to learn what i like, i wanna return the favour now.”

he nods, eyes closing as he takes your advice with a throaty groan. whether it's the noise or the faster pace he's fucking you at, you don't quite know, but you whine in response, sliding a hand into his hair and tugging. matty moans again, blinking dazedly at you. “i like that.”

“when it hurts a little bit?”

“mhmm.”

“alright,” you move your other hand under his shirt to clutch at his back, digging your nails lightly into the soft skin and dragging them downwards. “that?”

“fuck,” he whimpers, hips speeding up yet again. you gasp at the feeling, another gush of pleasure starting between your legs; in response, you clench, and matty swears again. “god, you're so wet.”

“all for you, matty,” you lean up to kiss him, a sloppy meeting of lips and tongues interspersed with moans; pulling back to breathe, you whisper into him. “tell me what else you like.”

he kisses you again, still pounding into you - somewhere deep in the recesses of your pleasure-addled brain, you thank all that's holy for the editors’ interior design decision to buy extremely sturdy desks and not have them against any walls. “i like you.”

“yeah?” you smile, moaning at a particularly good thrust. “you like - fuck - you like the way it feels inside me, inside this pretty pussy?”

“yeah.”

“i like it, too, feeling you inside me,” you kiss his neck, licking up over his jaw and kissing his cheek before whispering in his ear. “does it feel good, fucking my tight little cunt? never had anyone as big as you, sweetheart, fucking love it. you've got me fucking dripping.”

“feels so good, so fucking good,” comes the breathy reply. “perfect girl, perfect pussy. wanna - shit, oh my god - stay inside you forever.”

matty's hips are faltering ever so slightly, the rhythm dropping a sign that he's reaching the finish line. you decide to help him get there, gently sucking a mark into his neck and murmuring into the sweaty skin. “you can cum there, if you like.”

the whine he lets out is almost enough to make you cum. “is that alright with you?”

“of course,” you press a little kiss to his cheek. “want you to fill me up, angel. been such a good boy for me, you deserve it.”

“thank you,” matty leans round to kiss you properly. “please can i get you off, too?” wanna touch you, make you feel good.”

“you remember what i showed you?”

he nods, shifting weight onto one arm and waving his thumb at you. giggling, you take it into your mouth, flicking your tongue over the pad before releasing it with a pop and speaking. “fast, but not too firm, alright?”

“yeah,” watching you intently, matty leans back to look down intently between your legs, bringing his thumb to the juncture between them. it takes him a couple of swipes to find what he's looking for, but your body jerks so obviously when he touches your clit that it's obvious he's made his discovery. still fucking you a bit haphazardly - in a good way, mind you - he rubs tight little circles onto the bundle of nerves, just the way you like it. “that good for you, darling?”

the pleasure from the double stimulation is so overwhelming you can barely speak, clouding your brain and tightening both your vocal chords and your cunt; it's matty's whine at the latter that triggers a response from you, a matching wanton moan that by some miracle forms itself into a phrase. “yes, god, don't stop.”

“m‘kay,” matty's eyelids are drooping above you, but he smiles enthusiastically. “feel like i'm dreaming.”

“oh, my sweet boy,” you pull him down for a kiss, grinning against him at the whimper that escapes him when you bite his lower lip. “see? this is real.”

he giggles, gently kissing you in a way that's at total odds with how intensely he's fucking you. “i'm getting close, sweetheart. are you…?”

“yeah,” you aren't lying, either - pleasure is really starting to fizz up in your stomach, making your legs shake as they're wrapped around matty. “keep doing what you're doing, angel, keep being my good boy.”

the praise spurs matty on, keeps him fucking into you determinedly even as he crumbles completely above you. “oh, fuck,” he moans, skin slapping against yours as he chases release for both of you. his thumb stays circling your clit, bubbles of ecstasy rushing through your body every time he does - you're definitely getting close, pleasure building up to breaking point in your stomach more and more by the millisecond, and your heavy eyes and shaking body make that obvious to the perfect man above you. he kisses your nose. “you're close, too, aren't you?”

“mhmm,” you clutch him even tighter, desperate to keep him like this, keep him making you both feel good. “you gonna make me cum?”

“fuck, yes.”

and he does. how he staves off his own orgasm, you have no idea, but matty's dead-set on getting you off before he can; he fucks you through shaking legs, working your clit as well as if he'd been doing it for years and not days, forehead pressed to yours in such an intimate way that you could cry if you thought about it for too long. he looks fucked above you, but so fucking beautiful - when the pleasure inside you cracks and surges out into the rest of your body, sending wails of his name out of your lips, you're not quite sure if it's just because of the sex, or if there's another emotion or two behind it adding to how good you feel.

but you don't have time to dwell on that, though, before matty's whimpering about his own climax against your lips. “m'gonna cum, oh my god, shit, sweetheart, m'gonna cum, please, please let me cum.”

“good boy, my perfect boy,” you're still spacey after cumming yourself, but the hand still in matty's hair is tethering you somewhat. “cum for me, matty. fill me up.”

with perhaps the single sexiest noise you've ever heard, matty does just that, burying his head in the crook of your neck while he finishes, hot and deep, inside you. “oh, thank you,” he whispers into your skin, panting bodies still clinging together as you come down from your high. “jesus christ.”

“did you like that?”

matty laughs, leaning back to look at you. “that's an understatement, darling. it was perfect,” he strokes your sticky cheek, looking tenderly at you. “you're perfect.”

“back at you, sweet boy,” you kiss his nose, then his lips - a sweet kiss, nothing like the sloppy mid-sex makeouts you just had. “thank you for being so keen to make me feel good.”

matty shrugs, bashful. “i like that bit most of all.”

“oh, he’s cute!”

“i try,” he giggles. with a final kiss to your nose, he leans back. “am i alright to, like, pull out now?”

“of course,” you sit up on your elbows as he does, wincing at the sensation (and lowkey mourning the loss of him inside you). matty crouches to look at his cum dripping out of you, face so awestruck you can't help but giggle. “good view?”

he blushes, smiling shyly up at you. “the best,” carefully, he brings two fingers to your core, gathering up most of the white liquid and looking at it in wonder; his gaze then shifts to you, cheeky. “i mean, you're kinda clean now.”

you roll your eyes, but smile. “c'mere,” when he obliges, you take his fingers into your mouth, sucking the cum from them and swallowing with a satisfied hum. “look at that - both clean!”

“oh, that was underhanded,” matty kisses you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth before he pulls back. “but you're so beautiful that i'll let you get away with it.”

you swing your legs happily, pulling your dress back up over your chest. “thanks, angel.”

“m'serious, by the way,” matty reaches for the tissue box on the opposite desk and then your discarded underwear, crouching again to wipe you clean and slide the fabric up your legs. “most beautiful girl in the world.”

“your girl.”

he hums happily, cleaning himself off and tucking himself back into his boxers, leaning down to kiss you while he zips up his trousers. “mine, all mine. now, let me just,” he lifts you up and sets you on another desk, wiping the one you just vacated as best he can with a dry tissue. you bite your lip to keep from laughing at how endearing he is, and smile sweetly at him when he turns back around; that soon turns into a shriek when he scoops you up bridal-style. “right. let's go home.”

***

“are you sure i didn't leak onto the seat there?” you walk backwards up the hall towards your flat, looking at matty. “i was so panicked the whole drive.”

he rolls his eyes. “sweetheart, for the millionth time, there's no cum on the passenger seat. not that i'd have minded if you ruined my car like that, though. s'kinda hot.”

“you kinky little bitch,” you snort, unlocking the door and stepping inside; the scrambling of tiny paws across wooden floors becomes audible as soon as you do. “and speaking of little bitches…”

“don't call her that!”

“oh, stop it, i'm being literal - hi, maggie!” you crouch as your border collie puppy comes into view, bounding towards you excitedly - annoyingly, she passes you without so much as a lick hello, and goes straight to matty. “oh, for god's sake.”

he laughs, letting her lick all over his face before scooping her up like a baby and cooing at her. “maggie-moo! did you miss me? yeah, course you did. more than you missed your mum?”

“matthew.”

“sorry, darling,” he wanders over to kiss your head, kicking the door shut behind him. “i still can't believe you waited until we started dating to tell me you had the cutest puppy of all time. imperative information, that.”

“still pulled you without her, didn't i?” you quip, wandering down the hall to dump your and matty's bags on your bed, the two Ms in tow. “and you only think she's the cutest because she's sweet to you. she's a total terror, otherwise,” you pet maggie's little head. “i think she might've inherited that from me.”

matty giggles. “well, i'll take you both being sweet to me. yes, mags, i will!” he scratches her under the chin, and her little eyes close as she stretches; within seconds, she’s fast asleep, and he awws. “i'll put her down in the living room.”

“thank you, angel,” you kiss maggie's head, then matty's, and wander into your bedroom to get changed.

matty follows behind a minute later. “i can take her out later before we go to bed… oh my god, darling, i'm so sorry for bursting in on you like that,” he goes bright red when he sees you're only in your panties. “i can wait a second, let me just-”

you cut him off with a giggle, walking to him and kissing his nose. “you literally creampied me not even an hour ago, and you're flustered by walking in on me changing? god, you're so cute.”

“oh, shush,” matty hides his face in your hair, wrapping his arms around you. “i've forgotten what i was going to say now.”

“sorry, angel,” you stroke his hair. “while you think, do you want to have a shower with me? and then we can order some food?”

“really?” his voice is full of wonder. “yeah, i’d like that. thank you.”

your heart glows. you take his hand and lead him next door to the bathroom, turning the shower on and adjusting the temperature as you speak. “no need to thank me, matty. just doing my girlfriend duties, you know.”

there’s silence for a second. then you realise what you said, and panic sets in - your blood runs ice-cold, and you turn to an undressing matty with a horrified gasp. “i am so sorry, matty, i don’t know why i-”

“darling, it’s alright,” matty steps out of his trousers and kisses your head. “i’d quite like to refer to you with that title too, if i'm honest. and, you know,” he rubs the back of his neck nervously. “if you want to call me your boyfriend… i'd be very honoured.”

he's so adorable that you have to genuinely hold back a scream. so you merely beam at him, and kiss his hand. “follow me. we can start your designated boyfriend role of washing my back for me right now.”

in complete contrast to the desperate, fast-paced sex of earlier, your first shower with your boyfriend (!!) is languid, romantic, saccharine-sweet. well, there are several deep kisses, and both yours and matty's hands do linger on parts of each other's bodies that may be considered impolite by some, but there's no real lust behind it - none more so than usual, that is - just a curiosity, a fascination, and a want to hold each other as tight as possible. that easy comfort around each other lingers the whole night, through ordering and eating pizza, curled up on the sofa watching the young ones while maggie does her utmost to get the discarded crusts for herself; through sharing a cigarette in the communal garden while the puppy does her business and runs around to tire herself out; through brushing your hair at the vanity in your bedroom before you go to sleep, matty sprawled on the bed and watching you with adoring interest while maggie sleeps on her bed under the window.

while you're putting your hair into its bedtime braids, he wanders over to the record player in your room, looking at the empty sleeve on the table next to it before lifting the lid and peering at the disc. “melodrama? i haven't heard this in ages.”

you turn in your chair, smiling. “but you know it?”

“of course.”

“good,” you walk to matty, kissing the back of his neck. “it's maybe possibly my favourite album of all time.”

“really?” he turns in your hold, resting his elbows on your shoulders. “tell me about it.”

“okay. better get comfy,” you tug him to your bed, climbing in and flicking the bedside lamp off; your boyfriend climbs in too, face illuminated by the faint moonlight peeking through the thin curtains. “you know that it's set over the course of one night, right? at a house party?”

“is it?” even in the low light, you can see matty's brow furrow. “but it's so… far-reaching, i would say, emotionally.”

“yeah, it is, the house party is just a narrative framework to focalise it, i s'pose,” you yawn. “and i don't know if she’s ever confirmed it, but i think all the fadeouts on the album have a purpose - they all seem like they're a means of marking the end of a step in the relationship cycle she's singing about. like, the one at the end of the louvre is the end of the ‘rush at the beginning’ she sings about, because then the album goes into liability and hard feelings/loveless, so the heartbreak section, and there's a fade out at the end of loveless, too. you get me?”

“i get you, darling,” the smile in his voice is audible.

“cool. all in all, there are five stages to the cycle, and it repeats between green light and sober; so, the first song on the album is chronologically last in breakup terms,” you rub your eyes. “which is kinda genius, because then the house party framework is really clear. like, you start the night by going out, but you also end your healing journey by doing the same thing, getting back out there and all that. it's so amazing. and the songs are all good,” a beat passes, then you giggle. “sorry for just rambling on about melodrama right before we go to sleep, sweetheart.”

“nah, i loved it. makes a nice change to be the one listening, for once,” matty laughs breathily, stroking stray hairs from your face. “i like listening to you talk like that - like it when you do anything, really.”

“back at you,” you lean in to kiss him softly, sliding your arms around him. “i'm really happy you're my boyfriend, by the way.”

“so am i, darling,” matty yawns, nuzzling his head into your chest. “shall we get some sleep?”

“sounds good. what are our plans for tomorrow?”

“oh, yeah, that's what i forgot i was gonna say earlier,” he tilts his head to look at you, eyes heavy with sleep. “we could maybe take maggie for a walk at the park near my house, if you like, and i could make us some dinner afterwards.”

“will you make me soup?”

matty laughs, kissing your bare skin. “of course i will. whatever you want.”

“alright,” you smile, going back in for yet another kiss. “it's a date. goodnight, angel.”

“night, sweetheart. see you in my dreams.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #office nerd au #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty x reader #matty healy smut

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adorerry · 8 months

Text

A bouquet a day keeps the sadness away. | H.S

Pairing: boyf!harry styles x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: you have been feeling a bit down recently so harry decides to add a special something into his daily routine in hopes to make you feel better

Warnings: tiny mention of depression at the start, PURE FLUFF! (p.s I literally know nothing about flowers, so hashtag don’t hate the flowers I chose pls xx)

a/n: stay til the end for a surprise ;) if you would like to be added to my tag list please pop me a message in dm's or in my requests/talk to me box :*

With seasonal depression just around the corner, your moods have swooped down a load recently. Instead of going for your daily runs and gym sessions with harry, you stayed in bed and binge watched Netflix all day, crying over the smallest things ever and overall having no motivation to do anything. Other people might think it's pathetic, but Harry had immediately noticed your change of moods and knew he had to do something about it straight away. Even on days when u felt at your very best, Harry still managed to slip the odd compliment and reassuring quote in just to make sure you knew how much you meant to him. That’s when harry got the bright idea of doing something small for you each day of the week just to remind you how much he loves you and how proud he is of you.

Monday.

You woke up, mind groggy, rolling over to feel an empty space where harry usually lays. Rubbing your drowsy eyes, you opened them to see Harry's side of the bed neatly tucked in, pillows perfectly fluffed up, no creases in the sheet. Everything was perfectly in place except for him. Where was he?

Groaning to yourself, you stretch your legs out of the bed and trapse along to the kitchen.

Your eyes rapidly tearing up at the scene in front of you. A huge bouquet of sunflowers with a note peeping out from the top.

“My sweet sweet angel. I'm sorry for not being there this morning when you woke up, but I had to rush to the studio. Duty calls... :( I hope you're feeling a bit better this morning, text me as soon as you finish reading this note. Let me know how you are! I got you these flowers as a reminder of all the happy times we have together. I did my research and apparently sunflowers represent happiness, and I'm hoping they make your happiness shine out. I’ll never fathom how you are mine; you are everything I ever hoped and dreamed of. Keep being your beautiful, pleasing self. Shouldn’t be too long... don't miss me too much. H x”

Tuesday.

Every Tuesday morning harry would go out for meetings with his team, so you weren’t really surprised when you woke up to an empty bed once again. When he arrived back home yesterday, he smothered you in kisses and cuddles while insisting you guys ordered a takeout and had a movie night and that’s exactly what you did.

Pouring your milk, you heard the doorbell ring as you pranced over to the door not expecting any deliveries today. “Delivery for Mrs Styles?” The delivery man questioned. Your face immediately beginning to flush a red tone as you accepted the parcel. Mrs styles.. It has a nice ring to it you think to yourself as you open the box to yet again another bouquet of flowers with a note.

“Hello baby, hope you're having an amazing morning. I also hope you didn’t mind the delivery man calling u Mrs styles... I really need to make that official soon huh. I’ll be home a little later today, please take care of yourself throughout the day. Maybe go for a little walk to clear your head? Mum said she will meet you if you pop her a text, maybe go to the small café you like? My treat ;) Hope you like the roses. They symbolise love, and that’s exactly why I got them. I love you so much you never fail to fill the empty gaps in my heart. See you tonight lovie. H x”

Wednesday.

Yesterday afternoon you spent it with anne having a catchup, both of you agreeing to go out shopping today, and last night cuddled up with harry in bed chatting about life and how the team was treating him. Surprisingly on one of your only mornings waking up next to harry, you were the first to be awake and out the house. Due to his busy schedule, it was another late night at the studio for harry but you didn’t mind as you knew he was doing things he loved.

When you arrived back home you saw yet again another box waiting for you to open it and pick it up. Taking everything inside you let out a slight laugh as you opened the box to a huge bouquet of lavenders. Obviously, it wasn’t a bouquet without the famous note...

“I hope you're not sick of my flower sending yet :( Woke up this morning and you weren’t there, felt a little deflated that I couldn’t smother you in kisses to wake you up but mum text me saying she took you shopping which made me feel way better. It’s so lovely seeing the two people I care for the most bonding and spending time together, and that’s why I've sent you these beautiful lavenders. They symbolise peace and you may be wondering why I have sent you flowers for peace? I want your beautiful body and brain to give you a break from all the stressful thoughts wandering them. I hope today brought you so much peace and I can assure you the future will too... I love you my precious girl. H x”

Thursday.

Surprise surprise, another morning without harry. This morning he left for training day with brad. You really wish you were there to witness harry in training mode but instead you found yourself once again opening another bouquet of flowers.

“Hi lovie, this is a short one today. I'm sorry... This short note is worth it as tomorrow is unfortunately the last flower bouquet day. I know, I know I can hear your sobs from here but don’t worry darling it will all be worth it I just need you to trust me.. Which is why I got you freesia flowerers today. They symbolise trust and I'm needing you to trust me with everything you have. I’ll see you tomorrow, love you millions. H x”

Friday aka The last flower day.

You felt the bed dip as you made a lazy attempt to open your eyes as you felt the immediate kisses harry started planting all over your face.

“G’mornin’ lovie. Y’gonna wake up for me?” he questioned swiping the stray hairs away from your face and tucking them behind your ear.

“Mhm” you replied turning over and slowly dozing back to sleep as you felt harry pick you up taking you somewhere in the house.

It took harry 10 minutes to wake you up, once he was successful you looked at your surroundings to see you were in the living room.

“Got you a coffee anndddd your very last bouquet box” he said placing down both the coffee and box Infront of you

“You really didn’t have to do this for me H.. but I really appreciate it so thank you” you leaned over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek as you turned back around eagerly opening the box to see what’s inside the last one.

You opened the box to the most gorgeous flowers you had ever seen but felt a pang in your heart when you didn’t see a note, harry noticed your frantic looks as he reached over and grabbed a handwritten note.

“I felt like a handwritten one is better for today's note, feels more personal?” he said with a slanted smile placed on his face. You began to read the note as you hear harry rustling around behind you.

“Good morning gorgeous... I felt like a handwritten note was the better option for today. A week today will be our 5-year anniversary. I can’t even begin to thank you for all the astonishing things you have done for me these past 5 years, I most definitely wouldn’t be here without you, you are my muse... So, thank you thank you thank you. I really hope you like my choice of today's flower’s, il explain to you what they symbolise in a second. You have showed me how to love and what true love feels like, and I will continue giving you everything I have until my very last day on earth. These flowers are my personal favourites... They are called calla lilies, and they symbolise marriage. I love you I love you I love you. So, what I'm trying to say is...”

“Y/n..” you turn around nearly giving yourself whiplash, seeing the love of your life on one knee your eyes start welling up as your hands automatically cover your mouth in shock. “Will you marry me?”

You desperately nod your head as your head finds the crook of his neck while your tears find a home in his t-shirt. Secretly harry let out a few tears too but he would never let you know that.

A/N again: Woweee if you made it this far hi! Thank you so much for reading this is my very first thing i've ever posted on this account, I'l do a small post soon introducing myself and what/who I write.

I DO NOT give consent to anyone reposting my writing and claiming it as theirs. I AM more than happy for you guys to reblog, add to reccomendation lists etc (this really helps especially as im a small account!). If you would like to translate any of my posts please message me before hand so we can chat about it!

I love you, stay safe, my messages are ALWAYS open dont be affraid to message me.. M x

#harry styles #harry styles love on tour #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles one shot #harry styles masterlist #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #adorerry

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pxgeturner · 8 months

Note

fifinnj ikn.

where.

where he.

hm. overstimulation-

you feel your in-the-spotlight boyf fade away. he reminds you that he is very much there for you (actor!finnick x not famous!reader in a current-day!au)

an. ok. mer my love, I tried hard you gotta understand 😭. I had a plan. but it ended up not like raw sex how I wanted but more making love. yeah that's it. the main sex scene is so lovey dovey. I hope that's okie. it's what my brain wanted ig. I'm so, so glad I'm finally getting this to you. I hope you love it like I do.

ALSO. to the person who asked "where's my baby finnick???" I hope you're satisfied because this is a bigger piece than I've written in a long time.

warnings: bits of angst, smut 😇, cumming at the same time (we <3 a man w good timing), public sex (under the table), teasing, oral (f!receiving), finnick's smirk

wc: 2k

Lately, finnick is never home. that’s a lie, he comes home to sleep. finnick is never home at any time when he could actually see you. he goes out to the shoot, hangs out with his friends, and comes home whenever he likes. whenever you try to sit him down for a meal, his agent calls, or his manager, or the producer of the project, or the director, or the costume designer, or his friends.

you can’t say the love is gone, you still have little moments of affection. him kissing your temple as he slips into bed, him kissing your hand before he walks out the door, making breakfast together on the few days he doesn’t have to go in too early.

you know he loves you, and that once filming comes to a wrap, romance will resume to normal. But you feel so lonely.

…

“want to go to a dinner party?” you roll your eyes at him, continuing to polish your toes, perched on the tub ledge.

“no way in hell would katniss willingly throw a dinner party. And peeta would never make her.”

“it’s a haymitch and effie soiree.”

“oh, so it’s a soiree now?”

finnick lathers shaving cream with the kabuki brush & bowl set you got him for christmas last year. “you know effie,”

“i'm surprised you’re inviting me,” you say with a bittersweet honestly. he sets the brush back into the bowl, turning to you.

“sweetheart,”

You sigh, “you’re just so busy lately, finn. It’s like strictly work and friends for the past couple of months.”

he kneels on the bathroom tiles, you internally shiver because he’s getting his robe dirty.

you arch your brow at him.

“we need this, right?”

“you don’t. you don’t need me. you don’t need anyone... i need you, though.” your eyes start to sting and your throat closes up a bit.

finnick springs into action, gently grabbing your hand that’s paused on the nail polish cap “baby, baby, you don’t need to worry. it’s you and me.” he kisses the knuckles, transferring shaving cream onto your hand. he looks up at you with those sea-green, puppy-dog eyes. "be my date tomorrow night?"

he ate you out that night. down right making out with your pussy. every swipe of his tongue felt like an apology. so sweet, sugar-coated, he was making up for lost time. it was like he was telling you he loves you through your cunt. which felt so absurd a thought when you had it, you laughed out loud. that was the only time finn came up for air, “what? has it been that long? have i lost my touch?” he mocked worry. you told him you got distracted, and to up his game; which he did. you lost count of how many times he made you cum.

you roll over, wanting to bump into finnick, feel his warmth. you landed on cold sheets instead of your warm boyfriend. so you got up, put on the robe finnick left on the floor and made yourself some tea.

you’re starting to hate weekends. finnick’s job makes him work around the clock, and this place was finn’s place before it was your together place. you wish he moved into your place, that way you could look around and see memories that didn’t just involve him.

you put on this green maxi slip dress tha finnick loves on you and a white fur you found at a boutique a few days ago, some big hoop earrings and a green onyx ring. the door opens. finnick. you two are going to be so late for dinner, he still has to get dressed. He pops his head into the bedroom. he’s already dressed.

his jaw drops into that cheeky face he makes. “babe, you got all dolled up for me? you’re so lovely.”

“can you for once say something that isn’t at all smug?”

“something,” he flourishes his arms.

“very funny, finn. and this isn’t for you, it’s for me. I haven’t seen out friends in a while and i want to look nice.” that's mostly true, although you did actively decide to wear his favorite color.

“ah, yes, of course.” he slides up next to you in front of the vanity.

“how are you ready?” he grabs one of his cologne bottles.

“you know i have a change of clothes for every occasion in my trunk. and i'm not ready just yet,” he shakes the bottle slightly.

“ah, yes the travel closet. how very crazy rich asians of you.”

“i'm the real-life peik lin.”

…

being at effie and haymitch’s was like fresh air after holding your breath. typically, you didn’t need anyone else to feel alive. but, you don’t know anyone at your new job, and you feel kind of aimless. you’re not sure if you’re going in the right direction anymore

peeta nudges you, “how’s work?”

you fidget with your ring. “new things are always an adjustment.”

a warm hand lands on your thigh. you look at finnick, he smiles, squeezing your thigh.

“you’ll be fine, once you’re all settled, you’ll knock their socks off.” katniss smiles at you.

“effie, did you hire a new chef?”

“why, yes i did, dear! of course you are the one who noticed, you always have had the best test!” she giggles, “aside from me, of course!” you were relieved effie took your bait. You want to focus on something else other than yourself.

“doesn’t my sugar look absolutely divine?” finnick quips as he starts bunching up your skirt. a chorus of agreement comes in response. by the time someone resumes conversation, he has your dress piled at the bend of your hips. his fingers dance his way over to your clothed sex. immediately, he presses a finger right on your clit. it sends a jolt through you at you sit up a little straighter.

peeta gives you a look that says everything alright? And you give him a gentle smile back.

“hey sweetheart,” haymitch asks, looking at you.

“mm, mmm?” finnick’s making circles around your clit making you dizzy.

you try extra hard to listen to what he says, “i know you said you’re doing that day job but how’s your passion treating you?”

“fashion is a tough industry to get into, let alone do right.” hopefully your voice doesn’t betray you.

finnick tucks your panties to one side and slips a finger inside. you yelp, mouth closed.

“you alright, sugar?”

“bit my lip while chewing.”

“aw, baby, you have to be more careful,” patronizing ass.

finnick teases you on an off throughout the night. actively at least, he keeps his finger inside of you for the rest of the meal. Every now and then you’d purposely clench around it, to spur him on. sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

on the ride home, you sat scooted as close to the window as possible.

“you are cocky,”

you look at him, he’s smiling, big and proud. “low,”

“and sexy?” you glare at him. what a pompous boyfriend you have.

“...yes.” you roll your eyes.

he holds your hand, “you looked so sexy tonight, baby. i couldn’t resist.”

“that was the first time i’d seen them in months!”

“aw, did you not have fun, sugarcube?”

“i did, but damn you finnick, why does everything have to be a spectacle with you?”

“but you did such a good job of being discreet, babe, there wasn’t any spectacle tonight.”

you let out a small giggle.

“i’m trying to make everything better, baby.” you hold hands the rest of the way

…

Your boyfriend follows you into the apartment, practically nipping at your heels. He gets his hands on your hips, tugging you back into his chest. He nips and sucks at your neck, hands roaming.

“You’re so impatient,”

“You’re so tempting.” he picks you up fireman style, carrying you over to the bed. He slips the dress off of you.

he’s everywhere. your neck, chest, tummy, thighs, kissing your body up and down. yesterday, sure he had your legs shaking and you forgiving him, but today he’s loving you in the way he used to. In a way that has a piece of your soul click back into place.

you arch your back into him, finnick eventually settles on you chest, kissing, nipping, sucking, squeezing. loving you without words. he takes a quick moment to rid himself of his pants, literally smothering himself in your gorgeous tits.

“finn– finn– what are you doing?” you laugh.

he comes back up. he takes off his suit and rips his shirt. “i’m doing what needs to be done so i can love you and this beautiful fucking pussy, doll.”

You look at him, eyebrow cocked “so my pussy is more beautiful than i am?”

“you are the sum of your parts, baby.” he runs a hand through your hair. “it just so happens that you have the most exquisite pussy.”

“then why aren’t you touching it?” you test him. he slips a couple of fingers into you without missing a beat.

“what were you saying, sugar?” he rubs up against your g-spot. “c’mon you were about to say something.”

“just- just, finn–”

“it’s okay, sugar, I got you baby, I know what you need.” he slips his fingers out, and you whine. but he doesn’t leave you much room to complain, pushing himself into you.

oh. my. god. he hasn’t felt this good in so long. trying to stay in control during this hell of a month is torture. during the time you two have been together, he hasn’t taken on any projects. well, there was that one time he was brought on as a late-stage producer when one dropped out. but that wasn’t nearly as time consuming as acting was. finnick never noticed how isolated he is during a shooting period. other than the occasional fling with a co-star, he really didn’t have any sort of relationships. but know he has you and you are such a delicious little distraction. but honestly, celibacy does not suit him.

initially, he thrusts into you slowly. he wanted to savor this, but you’re just too good. and it’s been too long. and he missed this pussy. last night was just a taste. he’s prepared to keep you here all fucking week if he has to. he lifts your torso up, slipping a pillow under your hips, and as he lays you back down, he kisses you.

“I missed you,” you breath into his lips.

“i’m right here sweetheart. I’m all yours, I’ll be forever yours, my girl.” he kisses your temple, making a trail down to your breasts. “fuuuck,” he says before taking a nipple into his mouth. he has never (and I mean never) loved a pair of breasts more than your tits. they are goddamn perfect. no one could tear him away from you. if you’d let him, he’d spend an entire day under one of you (his) pajama shirts, his face to your chest, it would be the best day of his life. his hands squeeze your hips. the way you pussy-- it’s fucking glorious. he wants to cum, he wants to cum so bad--

“finn,” you feel him twitch,

if you keep saying his name the way you are, he might just explode. “finn-finnick!” he has a thumb on your clit. he needs you to cum first. You always cum first. It’s his rule. you're tugging at his hair. And your gripping him like a vice. “finn, please,”

“there’s my good girl.”

just in time. You two arch into each other an finnick bottoms out in you, losing himself in your warmth. and as he collapses to your side, and you give him your cute little sleepy smile, he thinks one thing.

I'm so serious about keeping you here all week. he decides that he’ll let you nap for half an hour. he collects supplies, food water etc. and emails your work that your amazing boyfriend has set up a surprise vacation and will be gone for a few days.

you wake up to the sound of an alarm and a nip at your thigh.

#nsfw.giselle #¡elia! 🪷#my writing #finnick my love #the hunger games #the hunger games finnick #thg finnick #the hunger games fanfiction #finnick odair #finnick x reader #finnick x you #finnick odair x reader #finnick ordar x you #finnick angst #finnick smut

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bitchinbarzal · 6 months

Note

“but hear me out,, mase always swore he’d never be like mama mct’s ex boyf bc he was a piece of shit,, then he goes and cheats on her… that’s definitely that catalyst in mason & trevor’s friendship bc trevor trusted mason with his baby sister”

Just this… 👐🏻

It happened before they were together so could I really be considered cheating, Trevor thought so.

It was all fun and laughter in the ducks locker room majority of the time. Guys would make digs at one another it was all quite fun.

Jamie and his wife had recently announced their venture to adopt a babygirl and were picking out names so the team decided to weigh in.

Names were thrown about until Jamie said “My mom said Lola”

“Hey Tav, remember when you fucked that girl from where was it? Texas or something? Wasn’t her name Lola?” Someone shouts and Mason’s body freezes.

“Hard to believe Mason was ever with anyone who wasn’t little Z, she’s got him wrapped around his finger for like three years now”

The teammate frowns “No… tav you screwed that girl like three-“

“Okay enough dude” Mason snaps and Trevor interjects “No, let him finish. He screwed this girl when?”

“Like three years ago? It was what start of the season?”

Trevor looks at Mason who is visibly on edge before he pounces on him “You son of a bitch!”

Everyone has to get in to rip them away from one another. Eventually pulling them apart while their chests heave

“I trusted you! She trusted you! You have a baby!” Trevor screams.

“I know, I know ok?! We weren’t together yet and it was just one stupid night Z!” Mason défends to which Trevor snarls

“The first night, the night you picked her up I told you, I said to you to take care of her! You promised me!”

Trevor didn’t often get so wound up when it didn’t concern his kids but his baby sister was not grounds for disrespect.

“Trev it was nothing!”

Trevor rolls his eyes and grabs his bag “You better tell her”

“Trevor she’s just had a baby, I can’t-“

“Tell her. Or I will” he snaps, leaving the locker room.

When Mason left the facility he drove around a bit just trying to hold off coming home so he wouldn’t have to face you.

When he eventually walked in you were sat with Jude on the couch reading to him

“Hey sweet boy” you greet, standing up to meet him in the doorway “Say Hi Jude, hi daddy”

The sweet moment is followed by a silent pause when mason says “Babe can you sit down? I have to speak with you”

You frown “Baby what’s wrong?”

“Please?” He gestured to the couch and you oblige, shushing Jude in the process.

Mason leans against the coffee table and you say

“Mason just say it, you’re scaring me!”

“I slept with someone” he blurts out and your heart drops.

“You What?”

He sighs “It was a long time ago, it was when you went back to New York to stay with your parents after your ex and you said you needed space so I went out and I just- fuck babe I’m sorry, ok?”

“So you just stuck your dick in another woman because what? I needed space?” You Ask and it’s scary how calm you are.

“It wasn’t like that! I didn’t know if you’d even want me when you got back!”

“But you didn’t care to find out eh? What happens if she’d stuck around? Would you have been with her? Would this never have happened?”

The this in question is gestured by pointing between you both and mason looks at your sleeping baby boy, thinking of the life where he wasn’t here.

“I didn’t want to hurt you”

You scoff “Well you have”

“Babe please it’s not like I did it ever again, we weren’t together!”

“But we had an emotional connection Mason! I wanted you and you couldn’t wait until the next thing that opened her legs came along” you cried “I thought you weren’t like him”

His face drops “Hey, I am nothing like him!”

“Oh yeah? I’m not finding all that much different right now” you taunt and mason knows you’re trying to get under his skin so he lets it slide.

He sighs “What do you want me to do, I’ll do anything to prove how sorry I am” he begs and you nod

“After this, I’m done” you nod to Jude “I don’t want anymore babies with you”

You’d spoken about at least three kids with you being one of four and mason being one of two.

“What-“

“And I don’t want to get married” you reply, handing back the ring he’d recently given you when you’d given birth “I can’t trust you won’t break by heart again”

Mason watches then as you stand up and drop a sleeping baby Jude in his arms and walk out the room. Then Jude begins crying to which mason hushed him and mumbles

“I know exactly how you’re feeling bud”

#mason and mom

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jaemmphilia · 11 months

Text

★ 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 ★ || seo c.b

★ summary: changbin has been so stressed out with the upcoming school semester. his professors are already drowning him in piles upon piles of work. and don't even get him started on his major. that's where y/n comes in. he can just sense how stressed out his poor boyfriend is, so he gets changbin's favorite food and some booze, making a date of the once stressful night.

★ characters: seo changbin, y/n

★ warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, reader is the sweetest boyf ever, vanilla sex, unprotected sex (say it with me, wrap it before you tap it), this is the softest thing ive written yet, changbin is stressed out from school, reader comforts changbin, mentions of alcohol, mentions of selling crack, changbin has body image issues in this one

★ word count: ~2.1K

★ requested?: yep, thank you @belladonna6-6-6

★ binnie's thoughts: i love domestic shit, despite not ever being in a committed relationship, so i am pretty much living my fantasies through writing... i hope you like it anyways !

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so don't take it to heart. just enjoy!

Changbin wants to drop out so badly at this moment. The semester started like two weeks ago and he wants to rip his hair out (“Babe don’t do that, we just dyed it back to a natural color after that green disaster!” He can hear your voice scolding him without you even having to be near him.). The poor boy is knee-deep in work already, and his dumb professors just keep adding to the pile. What’s he even getting out of doing all this work, anyways? A stupid piece of paper? He majors in music production, in what world will he ever need to know the formula to calculate the circumference of a triangle or whatever the hell it is?

Changbin lets out his nth groan of the night, his face falling onto his open textbook. He feels tears behind his eyes from the frustration of it all. He wonders if he’s the only one struggling to keep up with all this work. He knows he should probably get up and move his aching legs, but the thought of falling behind on getting everything finished fills him with an anxious feeling. As he contemplates dropping out and selling crack on the street, a knock at his door causes him to open his eyes. He turns on his phone that sits beside his textbook. 10:46 p.m stares back at him. He’s a bit confused, he isn’t expecting anyone to be at his door at this time, so who could it be?

It couldn’t be Chan, he’s glued to his chair at the studio, slaving away making tracks for his music production class. It couldn’t be Jisung, either. He’s knocked out after spending the day with his long-time crush, Minho. So that really leaves only one person, but he honestly thought you would also be asleep after your shift at the campus’ daycare. Chasing kids of various ages all day is pretty draining work.

Changbin gets up and opens his door, the stress of school and turning in half-assed assignments fleeing his body as his eyes land on your million-dollar smile. Your arms are carrying bags of all kinds, and his nose picks up the sweet smell of takeout from the joint just outside of the campus.

“Binnie, I come bearing food and alcohol!” you sing as you make your way into his dorm. Changbin feels like he could cry. Not from frustration this time, but from happiness and love. Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect, he was close to having a mental breakdown, nothing going right for him.

“I had a feeling you were glued to your chair, slaving away doing your work. And judging by the way you’re looking at me, my feeling was correct.” You place the bags down by the couch, and make your way to your hunky boyfriend. Standing in front of him, you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a quick squeeze. Changbin’s hands automatically wrap around your waist, tugging you close to his warm body. He holds you tight for a few seconds longer, a silent thank you for coming to distract him from the cause of his stress.

“You have no idea how happy I am to have you here right now. I was so close to ripping out my hair and crying in the shower with my clothes on,” Changbin mutters in your ear, his breath tickling you a bit, making you chuckle softly.

You pull away slightly, your arms still his neck, hands clasped at the nape of his neck loosely. “I’m glad I could help, babe. Why don’t you call it a night and have a romantic date with me right here?”

Changbin simply nods and presses a gentle kiss on your lips. He loves kissing you, it’s one of his favorite things to do with you. Kisses of any kind will always do it for him. Whether it be just a sweet peck or a full blown Frenchie, he easily becomes putty in your embrace. When things get intimate between you two, his plump lips have to be on you in some way, it really doesn’t matter to him, as long as he can smooch you as many times as he wants to. You pull away from the kiss and your voice brings him back to reality. “I hope you’re hungry. I would be surprised if you weren’t, to be honest,” you say, making your way to the bags of food sitting on the table in front of the puke-green couch he found at the thrift store (you’ve always hated that damn couch, it’s tacky and an unflatteringly green color, you wish he would just get rid of it.). Changbin just chuckles, watching as you pull out two styrofoam boxes out of the bag. He plants his tired body on the couch, immediately sinking into the semi-comfortable cushions. He grabs the remotes to his TV and finds something for the two of you to watch while you eat. He starts up the movie when you sit beside him, cold drinks in your hands for you both.

The movie is long forgotten as you and Changbin make out lazily on the couch. His heavier body is on top of yours, his hands under your shirt, softly roaming the expanse of your chest and stomach. Any noise that leaves your mouth is muffled by Changbin’s soft and juicy lips.

Both of you grind your lower bodies together, your clothed cocks rubbing together despite the layers in between. Changbin pulls away from your lips, chuckling at the way you chase him, trying to get more kisses from him. His thumb swipes along your swollen bottom lip, wiping the saliva left behind. “God, you’re so sexy, baby. I love everything about you, there is nothing you could do to make me not like you.” Changbin can’t help the words coming from his mouth, he’s just so drunk on your love that his mind is only thinking one thing: you.

“Oh, Binnie. I love you so much, you’re perfect for me, love.” You reply, returning the sweet words as your hand cups his cheek gently, prompting him to connect his lips with yours once again. You hum, bringing your free hand under his loose shirt, the material pooling around his upper chest. Changbin gets the hint, pulling away from you so you can tug his shirt off. Once the shirt is discarded and forgotten, you zero in on Changbin’s impressive body. He has the nicest body you’ve ever seen in your life, he’s muscular, his skin is nice and soft like a peach, with the occasional mole littering the flesh.

Changbin’s face warms up at your intense stare. “Baby, don’t stare, it’s embarrassing..” he mutters, his usually loud voice now soft and quiet. Your eyes flit up to look at the pools of deep brown. You’re aware of Changbin’s body image issues, he’s been very open with you about his true feelings about how he views his body. That’s why you have made it your mission to make sure this sweet boy knows that his body is perfect no matter what.

You tell him what you always tell him when he starts feeling this way, “Binnie, whether you are skinny, fat, muscular, or squishy, you are perfect to me and I’m not with you because of your body. I’m with you because you are a genuine person with the best personality in the world. I’m with you because you love me for who I am, just like I love you for who you are.”

Changbin can’t ignore the slight sting in his eyes and the rapid fluttering in his stomach. He truly loves you and he knows he wants to spend every waking moment of his life with you. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t need to. His actions speak much louder than any word he could possibly say.

His hands strip you of your shirt, and his lips make their way all over your chest, and he makes his way to the waistband of your basketball shorts. He tugs the shorts down until they’re at your ankles. You kick the garment off, careful not to kick Changbin… again. Changbin’s eyes roam your almost naked body, his teeth toying with his bottom lip.

“Oi, why am I almost naked while you’re sitting there with your joggers still on? Chop chop, mister!” The pout on your lips is just so cute, Changbin can’t stop the laugh bubbling from his chest. Changbin removes himself from the couch, and he walks over to where you’re laid out on the couch, and he hooks one of his arms under the back of your knees, his other arm wrapping around your back, and he lifts you up with ease. A startled noise falls out of your mouth, your arm wrapping around him in urgency. You know he would never drop you, but being picked up out of the blue has never been your thing. You allow Changbin to carry you to his room, and he carefully lays you down on his very comfy mattress, and he rids himself of his dark gray joggers.

With his hands on his hips, he cocks an eyebrow at you, “Are you happy now? We’re both equal amounts of nakedness.”

“Hmm, you drop your boxers and I’ll drop mine. Then we’ll definitely be even.”

“Anything for you, my prince.”

“Don’t you ever call me that again, Changbin.”

After you both are fully naked, you both allow your hands to explore each other’s bodies, even though you’ve done it a million times in the duration of your four year relationship. Changbin is kissing you softly while his hand is splitting your hole open with three fingers lodged deep inside. You’re whining into his mouth, your back arching off the bed below you. Your cock is painfully hard, the tip of it a flushed red color similar to your natural skin tone.

Changbin pulls away from your lips, and he starts to speak to you, “I want to try a new position, baby,” you just nod at him and allow the male to adjust you the way he wants to. He pulls your body to the edge of the bed, and he stands in between your spread legs. He takes his length in his hand, pumping it a few times before he places the tip at your fluttering hole, rubbing the tip along the crack of your ass before he’s pushing past your rim. You will never get over that initial pressure of his cock sliding past your hole, it always feels weird, but that weird feeling is quickly gone as soon as Changbin’s hips snap forward.

Changbin sets the pace, his hand on your lower stomach as his hips come in contact with the back of your thighs, the sharp sounds of skin slapping together echoes loudly in the small room. You’re letting out the prettiest noises, whines and soft chants of Changbin’s name falling past your parted lips. Changbin doesn’t speed up or slow down, he thinks this pace is just right for you both, he wants to thank you for always being there for him, and he wants the moment to last a little longer than it normally would. His length slides in and out of you, his many veins rubbing your walls in the best way. Your hand is lazily stroking your own length, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as the pleasure courses through your body. Changbin is grunting above you, his hands gripping your hips tightly, tugging your body to meet his thrusts.

The two of you continue to fuck like that for a while, and you know Changbin is close because his grunts turn into soft whines, his name falling from his lips as his hips begin to stutter and skip. Changbin ends up pulling out you and he takes his length as well as your own length. He jerks you both off until you both spill on his hand, moaning each other's names as you finish. Changbin pants as he uses his arms to hold himself up on the bed, his legs feeling like jelly. You scoot on the bed until you’re laying normally.

You look at Changbin as you catch your breath, a smile on your face. After sex glow looks good on Changbin, he’s all sweaty and his hair sticks to his forehead, his pupils blown wide as he comes down from his high. You watch as he wipes his hands on one of his many dirty towels that sits on the floor. Looks like you’ll have to do some laundry while he’s in class tomorrow.

“Binnie, come cuddle with me, I’m sleepy,” You whine, your arms wide and welcoming. He just chuckles and jumps into your arms, peppering kisses all over your sweaty face, making you laugh. You would do anything for this man, and you can only hope he feels the same way.

#binnies req #kpop x male reader #stray kids x male reader #kpop x reader #changbin #stray kids smut #changbin x male reader #changbin x y/n

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jseobsky · 1 year

Text

Mr. smiles.

Pairing !: dancer!Sumin x dancer, barista, gn!Yn

Synopsis !: You had the biggest crush on a regular at the café you work at. Until one day, he stopped coming.

Genre !: Fluff, romance

Warnings !: swearing, haven’t proofread anything-

Requested by !: @xddjoong

Wc !: 1.8k

a/n !: hope you enjoy it <333

Main masterlist <3

Life was as good as it was. I mean life is good. Life is good when I get to dance, life is good when I talk with my friends, and life is good when I can drink my favourite drink while I wait for customers to arrive. However, life is definitely good when I get to see him. Every day, like a clock, at 5:23 pm, a certain person comes to our coffee shop. He smells like vanilla, which makes sense given the amount of vanilla he adds to his coffee… Which, for a black coffee, should be about 0 instead of the usual extra 2 teaspoons. His smile lights up the entire room, and his eyes sparkle when he comes with his friends sometimes. His voice sounds so angelic that even angels themselve-

“Yn!” I look away from a big window. “What, Yunho?” I’ve been working with Yunho ever since I got the job about two years ago. “You were spaced out. And if one more person gets inside the shop because you were staring at them for too long, I’m going to fire you” Oh true, he is the manager. “Sorry, what time is it?” “A quarter past five” “Shouldn’t you go away? Your shift ended 15 minutes ago, and I know how badly you want to get back home to watch your show with your boyf-” Yunho glares at me. “Your so-called bestie” He looks away, cleaning the countertop. “I’m sorry, I’m just saying that after three years of flirting here and there you would expect some action happening, or something yk?” He rolls his eyes at my words. “I’m covering Lia’s shift, she has an important thing to attend to” I follow Yunho around, cleaning the things he already cleaned. “She’s probably fuc” Ding ding. “Go back to work” I nod at him.

Walking back to the register I see the person I’ve been waiting for, I check my watch: 5:21 pm. He’s early today. I smile. Stfu you simp. I drag a hand in front of my face acting as if I was wiping my smile off. Once I see him standing in front of the register looking at the menu as if he didn’t always order the same thing over and over again, I can’t help but smile again. “Hi, how may I help you today?” My voice sounds dreamy like, totally not stressing out over the fact that the Choi Sumin was standing in front of me again.

Sumin and I go to the same dance academy, and although we don’t see each other much I always am on the lookout for him. We never really talked until one day he came to the coffee shop. I was tired, and when I saw a group of 10 people coming in I wondered if the universe had something against me. However, one of them specifically was really sweet, he gathered all the orders, made sure they weren’t making too much noise, and at the end, he stayed behind, piled everything the best way he could, and cleaned some of the spillings with napkins. It was customer love at first glance.

“My usual please” He smiled brightly at me. “To go or to drink here?” “To drink here please” Fuck yeah. Shit, professionalism. “It will be out soon” I ended the conversation with a smile, getting ready to make his coffee as he went to sit down on his usual table, his gaze never leaving my body. “Yn, the delivery is here, can you take care of it? I’ll do the orders” Yunho asked me. “Yeah sure!!” I smiled, knowing that even after being out for a while, Sumin will still be here. I went to take care of the new delivery. However, when I came back to the register after I was done, the shop now had three customers, but none of them was Sumin.

I never saw Sumin again at the café, I mean for the week that he hadn’t been coming. It was hard, it was even harder the fact that he would ignore me like the plague when we crossed paths at the academy.

“Okay, that’s it for today’s class, good job.” My dance teacher says to my group. I am tired, dancing non-stop for the past three hours was fun, but it left my body feeling a burning sensation, mostly when all my energy was going into making every move feel like a thousand moves energy-wise because of how I was feeling. “Yn, stay for a bit please” I stop walking and turn around to face my teacher once again. I nod at them and get closer. “There’s a new upcoming competition soon and I was asked to pick the contestants. I know you’re doing a lot of stuff right now, but I do think you would be the perfect fit for it” I smiled while still breathing hard. “Does this mean more hours of dancing in a day or am I switching some classes?” “Both actually, Monday’s class is going to be switched from freestyle to this competition. And we’re looking to see if both you and your partner are available to work on the dance Thursdays after class” I nod. Maybe if I ask to get to work at 5 instead of at 4. “I think I could make it, but I can’t stay longer than 5 pm” “What a coincidence!” I look at my teacher confused. “Your partner said the same thing. Then it’s arranged, practice starts tomorrow at three after class. See you then” “Wait, who’s my partner?” “Oh true, you might not know him, you never had a class together. But his name is Choi Sumin” Oh god…

Thursday couldn’t come faster. All I wanted was for time to stop and for 3 pm to never come. How would I face him? I stare at the closed door of the dance studio I was going in. Fuck, not only I’m tired from my other classes, but now I have to face my worst nightmares, why universe? Why? “Um, excuse me, are you going in?” I turn around to find Sumin, way closer than he should be. I get nervous, my stomach now doing backflips. “Yeah sorry” I turn around again and open the door as fast as I can. Sumin enters the room after me, he is wearing a black hoodie with matching black pants, and a half-open bag hanging on one of his shoulders. His hair is wet, probably from him dancing for the past hours just as I was. He walks with uncertainty, his pace being slow while his head looked around the room, never looking at me. Should I talk to him? “Um, my name is Yn, nice to meet you” Yeah with that quiet voice you ain’t going anywhere. I do the motion of tucking my hair behind my ears, and I smile as awkwardly as I can. “Yeah, the teacher told me so...” Sumin said while taking out a water bottle from his bag. I tried to hold my laugh. It had a peach sticker stuck on the bottle that said “Shake your butt” He looked at me and I straightened my posture. “You’re the café barista right?” “Yeah.” He nodded his head slowly. “right…”

Our first dance class went better than expected. The teacher was right, I was a good fit for the song. Although the dancing style needed more closeness with a partner than what I was used to, the song was just perfect. Perfectly a pain in the ass. Why did I have to be so close to Sumin? Why did sparkle go through my body when we first touched each other? Yet I gotta say, that for me expecting to fall on the floor Sumin cursing me out and telling me that he never wants to talk to me ever again, it went well. “And five, six, seven, eight. And. Snap cross, wave in, turn around, and fall, boom boom.” Our teacher counted as we moved, lost in thought at the end. “I’m going to look for some heels, I’ll be right back, take a short break” We nodded and went to sit down on a different end of the mirror. “You know” Sumin started talking. “You dance really good” what. “Thank you” I smile a bit. “You too” “I actually have been seeing you dance for a while now, I really love your expression style” Say what. “Thank you” He sighed. “I just want to say this so it doesn’t get in the way of our dance.” He took a deep breath before continuing. I looked at him confused, my head tilting to the side. “I actually started coming into the café you work at in hopes of seeing you more, maybe starting a conversation, maybe getting your number. But I was always too nervous to approach you. I figured out I should finally leave you my number. So I gave it to your coworke- actually let me rephrase that, I gave my number to your boyfriend. I’m sorry, I know he probably told you about it and I know you probably feel uncomfortable. So I just want to say that I’m sorry again” SAY WHAT?! “Um. Well. I. I don’t know what. I” Sumin nodded. “Don’t worry, I can ask to get switched out, I understand. “Wait no!” He looked at me briefly before going back to look at the floor. “I’m flattered, how could you make me uncomfortable?! I loved seeing you every day at the café. And like I also love how you dance and I love to be here. And I would love to get your number” I blushed. “What about your boyfriend?” “What boyfriend?” I frowned. He looked up at me and also frowned. “The one that world with you? The tall one? I think on his name tag it said something like Juno, Junho, Yunjo” “That fucking bitch.” “What?” His eyes widened as I look mad. I scoffed. “That’s my coworker. I don’t have a boyfriend, he even is dating his friend. Why would he even do that.” I looked up trying to find an answer. “Then go out with me” My head snaps back at Sumin, he had the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on him, and that’s saying a lot. I also let myself smile.

Life is as good as life is. I mean life is good. Life is good when I dance, life is good when I win dance competitions, life is good when I hit Yunho because he thought Sumin was a perv asking for my number, and life is good when I get to talk with my friends. But life is especially good when I see him, mostly now that we’re officially dating, and now that he is back at coming to my shop every day.

#✿•ᴗ•✿ lili posts!#xikers ff #xikers #xikers x reader #xikers fanfic #xikers fic #xikers reactions #xikers imagines #xikers sumin #sumin #xikers sumin x reader #xikers x yn #sumin x reader #sumin x yn #sumin ff #sumin fanfic #sumin imagines #choi sumin

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leejeongz · 7 months

Note

how do you think evnne show and live to receive love? like their love language? i think leejeong’s is words of affirmation but idk about the others 🥺💛

🫧 evnne’s love language 🫧

pairing: boyf!evnne x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of food (hanbin)

a/n: this is so cute omfg, i totally agree abt jeognhyeon !!! i was talking to a friend about it last night actually, great minds think like hehe

giving : how they show love

receiving : how they would like to be shown love

𓆉 keita

⋆ giving - quality time - keita has a very hectic schedule most of the time, but he’ll always find time for you. he’ll dictate to other people what hours he’s working or seeing them just to be with you. your dates are usually just you two talking for hours, getting lost in silly conversations that eventually become such a sweet memory for you both to look back on.

⋆ receiving - acts of service - without you, he always felt like something was going wrong. with you by his side, he feels prepared for anything. you’re always one step ahead when it comes to doing things for him, like, you know hours before him if he’s forgotten something, and you manage to get it to him before he can even realise.

other members under the cut

𓆉 hanbin

⋆ giving - acts of service - doing your hair, making you food, taking pictures of you, closing your backpack when you forgot to, he’ll do anything he can to show you how much he cares, and it all comes so naturally to him sometimes he doesn’t even realise that he’s doing it. he just hopes you don’t feel guilty because he genuinely enjoys doing these little things for you.

⋆ receiving - physical touch - sure, hanbin likes big hugs and long cuddles, but he also likes the way you rub your thumb on his when you hold hands, and how you lock arms with him in busy crowds, how you absentmindedly spin his rings on his fingers when your sat together. small touches that let him know that you need him and genuinely like having him around. they’re so meaningful to him.

𓆉 jeonghyeon

⋆ giving - gift giving - (honestly, i see him doing all 5 an equal amount). he always picks up things that make you question does he know you better than you know yourself!? everything that he chooses to buy you is perfect for you, and he knows it, but he still hands it to you with a shy smile and waits to see your reaction.

⋆ receiving - words of affirmation (everyone act shocked) - jeonghyeon relies heavily on being told and reassured that he is doing well, that he’s looking good and that you still really like him. he finds comfort in being told that you’re proud of him, too, it makes him feel all warm inside. even though, sometimes, hearing it can make him tear up, he’s smitten whenever you compliment him.

𓆉 seungeon

⋆ giving - quality time - seungeon doesn’t get easily distracted when he’s with you, you’re all he cares about and so whenever you spend time together, you have his undivided attention. he plans dates like picnics or stargazing, where there’s not too much to do other than talk to each other and be with each other in that moment.

⋆ receiving - physical touch - combined with quality time, you try to encapsulate them both in the moments you spend together. he loves nothing more than being held, protected by you, because he feels safe and cosy with you. there is absolutely no where else in the world he’d rather be than in your arms, probably chatting about something completely irrelevant.

𓆉 yunseo

⋆ giving - physical touch (everyone act shocked pt.2) - bro literally cannot keep his hands off you when he likes you. and you’re the only one he wants to hug and cuddle and hold hands with, of course. he likes how it calms you and grounds you after a long or stressful day, and how his touch can instantly make you blush. he wants you to know that he’s always there for you, literally a shoulder to cry on whenever you need.

⋆ receiving - quality time - honestly, just be there for him. he knows you both have pretty busy schedules now that you’re adults, so any time you do get to spend together is so precious, and if you make time just to be with him, well that definitely shows him how much you really love him and want to be with him.

𓆉 junghyun

⋆ giving - words of affirmation - junghyun is never too shy to tell you how you make him feel. he’s forever telling you how much he admires you, how he looks up to you just for being the person you are. although his intention is never to make you shy, he loves how you blush at his honesty, he hopes it’s building your confidence, because you definitely deserve it.

⋆ receiving - gift giving - you thought of him when you saw something? you got it just because you thought he’d like it? it’s personalised without the creators even realising because it’s a silly little inside joke between you two? oh he’s head over heels in love with you, so lucky to be able to call you his, literally swooning over you.

#evnne #evnne fluff #evnne imagines #keita #park hanbin #hanbin #lee jeonghyeon #jeonghyeon #mun junghyun #junghyun #yunseo #ji yunseo #yoo seungeon #seungeon

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soubi122 · 1 year

Text

Breakups

Breakups are hard, you weren't expecting to be broken twice in row by the same person...

Warnings: MDNI (minors do not engage), both parties are adults, unprotected sex, slight angst if you squint, smut, mentions of murder, spoilers if you have not read the Tenjiku arc.

Hanma Shuji was notorious for his callus behavior, his demeanor was nothing short of boorish. The man smoked anywhere he felt like it, did anything he wanted, fucked who ever he wanted and beat the shit out of who ever he wanted. He was known for his strength and also known to have no mercy on his opponents. How did you cross paths and how did you end up falling for him?

“I'm leaving Shuji.” You say teary eyed as you pack your belongings. He couldn't even bat an eyelash at your worlds. “Whatever doll…” There was no ounce of care or respect on his tongue. It burned, much more than you thought - it was as if he was putting his cigarette out on your skin. The moment you walked out that door it felt like you were shattering into a million pieces. Things weren't just the same anymore.

You met him when he was a loner, never one to keep company or friends but for some reason you always ended up stuck with him or under him. It was a relationship where things just came to be. You moved in with him after a year together and it was always entertaining. There wasn't a dull moment between you too. Whether he was trying to get your sweets in public or if he was throwing fists - there was always a spark. The adrenaline rush sometimes gave you a high you didn't even know you needed until you met him. There was always that question looming over everyone's head, what is a sweetheart like you doing with a demon like him? He wasn't one for emotions but everything changed when he met Kisaki Tetta. He became much more of an asshole than he already was. The devotion that he had for Kisaki was making you feel as if you meant nothing to him. Worse was when he got involved with Tenjiku, he followed Kisaki through hell and back. But he wouldn't do the same for you, even when you asked him for the simplest things - it was always 'I don't have time for that', 'how dull', or your favorite - 'Kisaki is waiting for me'. Enough is enough, with a heavy heart you made the choice to walk away from him, you were nothing more than a stubborn ache in his head that he couldn't wait to get rid of.

“Finally, you know your place…” A familiar voice said when you walked out of Hanma's apartment. It was none other than Kisaki, the cause of your dismay and heartache. “He's all yours you little shit…” You retorted and bumped shoulders as you made your way down the block. The ache in your chest was becoming unbearable, what was years of breaking down barriers was all gone in less than 6 months after meeting Kisaki.

Months passed by and there was no sign of Hanma anywhere. You saw the news, there were three deaths in the Kanto incident. One of them happened to be Kisaki, the demon who ended up getting Shuji tangled in murder. He was an accomplice to Kisaki in the death of an innocent girl who happened to be none other than the younger sister of Sano Manjiro. You only met once, but it was enough to make your heart sink. By the looks of it, he was on the run and with nowhere left to go - where would he go?

You looked for him day and night, asking around the sketchier side of town if they'd seen a man with tattoos on his hands, but of course he was a wanted man - no one dared to cross the reaper. No one gave you any clues or answers. Concerned with his safety, you tried putting yourself out there so that he could come find you. As much as you knew it was wrong, you knew that if the authorities, Mikey, or worse - the man with the dragon tattoo on his temple got a hold of Shuji, you’d never see him again. Leaving behind notes in places where he used to frequent was another way to try to get him to find you. "He might just kill you too (Y/N)." A friend said when they caught wind of you searching for your ex boyfriend. You gave up after months of him being MIA.

A year later…

What a shit show, your clients were completely out-of-hand today, your bosses made you stay late, multiple coworkers called in sick, you almost had to punch a client for getting too handsy. You were walking home from work late at night and the quiet fear of someone following you started to creep up on you. Turning to look over your shoulder, you saw nothing - just an empty street with flickering lamp posts. It was unnerving as you would have preferred to see someone, just so you know you're not crazy.

When you finally made it home, you unlocked your door and stepped in, exhaling a sigh of relief. I need to change my hours, this is ridiculous… Your train of thought was disrupted when the lights weren't turning on. The cherry on top of your disaster sundae. Walking around blindly in the dark, you began cursing yourself when you tripped on a pair of shoes that were in the hallway. Your hands were reaching for all the light switches but it was no use. It looked like your unit lost power. A small creek coming from somewhere in your apartment made you spin around blindly in the darkness, trying to focus on what was in front of you. “He-” You began but immediately stopped yourself, recalling all the horror movies you've seen before, it was always the person who called out 'Hello', that got killed first. Quietly, you backed away from the hallway and into the living room. You were going to call your neighbor for help, just in case there was really someone in your apartment.

The moment you turned to face the doorway, you were met with a tall figure blocking your exit route. Your blood ran cold, making you freeze in place. Their heavy footsteps echoed louder in your ear as the figure began to come closer. The stench of cigarettes perforated your nostrils and you thought you were going to die. This person must have been in the middle of the robbery when you got home. The flicker of a lighter made you flinch, the yellow-orange light was too dim to make out who was in front of you. You could only catch a few details, he was tall, had a hoodie over him and had long hair. The hood drooped over his eyes, you couldn't tell if he was looking at you. His other hand moved slowly upward, he held a cigarette and lit it up. You could hear him inhale and the tip of the cigarette burned red - the combination of the lighter and cigarette light illuminated his hands. You felt your stomach drop when you noticed the signature tattoo… The person standing in your home was none other than Hanma Shuji.

“Shuji…?” You asked carefully, your feet were still cemented to the ground as a chill ran up your spine. “It's been a while, doll…” He said as he pulled his hood back, allowing you to see his face for the first time in over a year. His hair grew out, blonde streaks framed his face and even at this distance you noticed the dark circles under his eyes. For a man who has been on the run, you were almost certain he was at his wits end - he would only come to you if he had nowhere else left to go.

He began to close the distance slowly and carefully. Knowing you weren’t stupid enough to make any sudden moves, he was more worried about you trying to punch him more than anything. “What are you doing here? Why are you here?” You tried to choke back your fear, it’s been so long - you weren’t sure if this was still the same Shuji you knew. “I need a favor.” Hanma asked with a bit of discomfiture. Struggling with how to respond, you half wanted to wrap your arms around him and the other half wanted to shove him out of your apartment. “I can’t…I’m living with someone.” You lied through your teeth to try and get him out of your apartment, if you get caught harboring a criminal then that was it. Kiss your work goodbye and that life you worked so hard to build - it would have been for nothing.

The snicker that escaped his lips made you pout, he sounded the same and it always created a spark regardless of the situation. Hanma took a drag from his cigarette and was now inches from your face, he exhaled the smoke through his nostrils and had a grin on his face. “You live alone dollface.” Damn it, you wished he didn’t know that, you were hoping he’d take the bait. It looks like he had taken a look through your apartment prior to you getting home. “I’ll be quiet and out of your hair in a few days.” Those beautiful golden eyes remained bright, they never dulled - sucking you in. “I-I don’t know Shuji…what if someone sees-” You were met with a long slender finger pressed against your lip, silencing your next words. “Like I said, I’ll be quiet and out in a few days…” If only you had taken up the offer of having a roommate, you would have not been in this situation.

Stepping back, you muttered an ‘ok’. A small sigh of relief could be heard from him. You never thought you’d ever hear an expression of worry or concern from him. He really was at his wits end. “Did you do something to my power?” You ask a little annoyed that you were still in the dark with a pretty much a total stranger. Hanma began to walk away and into your closet in the entryway where you breakers were, he flipped the switches and the lights came back on. It felt as if someone was shining a flashlight in your face, you screwed your eyes shut and winced. The heavy footsteps came close again, when you opened your eyes and adjusted to the light, you finally saw him. The dark circles under his eyes were noticeable, he lost weight and his fingers looked a little boney.

“You look good (Y/N).” He said while smirking at you, admiring your curves and the low cut blouse you were wearing. The pink that dusted your features became visible to him, he always knew what to say to make you feel self conscious. “Go shower, you smell like beer and cigarettes. There is an extra toothbrush in the bathroom drawers. I’ll bring you some clothes too.” You say while turning away from him, you needed an excuse to move away from his sharp eyes. He grinned and began to make his way to your bathroom. Truth is, he knew you had kept some of his clothes, he knew you kept spare stuff in your home just for him. Call it a gut feeling, that or he had already snooped around your apartment long enough to take notice. “Keep the shower head in place please - I know you’re tall but if you move it, you’ll flood my bathroom.” You said while pinching the bridge of your nose. Your shower had a frameless door that covered about 65% of the entryway.

The moment he was out of sight, you walked into your bedroom and collapsed on the soft mattress. What the hell were you thinking allowing him to stay here? He could kill you, he could rob you, he could strangle you in your sleep - oh god, what if he sets your apartment on fire while you’re sleeping? After a few minutes of arguing with yourself you got up to grab a towel and his old clothes - you really only used them while at home but could never bring yourself to throw them out. When you stepped out of your room, you noticed that the bathroom door was cracked and you could hear that the shower was on. He’s in already? Good - I don’t want to face him. You think to yourself as you knock on the door. “Shuji? I’m coming in to leave a towel and some clothes out for you.” He stayed quiet. Mentally, you rolled your eyes at his non responsive ass. By the looks of it, he already knew where the extra stuff was - the toothbrush was already out and used. I guess he really was looking around your apartment before you got home. Through the foggy glass, you could see his silhouette and long hair that reached his shoulders. Fuck, now was not the time to get excited. As much as you denied it, you couldn’t help but think about him when you were alone at night. Sometimes wearing his clothes to bed had you feeling whole, almost as if he was there with you, but the thoughts turned into desire, you’d end up pleasuring yourself when your thoughts ran wild. The thoughts began to make your legs quiver and warmth spread through your core. Thinking about what he was up to, where he was and who he was fucking - it made a knot in your throat and butterflies in your stomach. Soon the bitter taste that lingered on your tongue would snatch you out of bliss.

“(Y/N)?” Hanma asked as he peaked around the edge of the glass, you quickly turned around to face the door to avoid him catching you daydreaming. “Y-Yes?” Crap! You stuttered on your own words and he was quick to catch on. “You’re out of soap…” Huh? That’s not possible, you were almost certain that you replaced the bottle in the shower a few days ago, there was no way it was empty. “Um, there is some extra under the sink…” You say and begin to walk out, but are stopped by him calling your name out again. “Don’t wanna get your floor wet…can you get it for me?” You couldn’t see that lazy grin he had plastered on his face but you could already imagine it. Exhaling in annoyance, you kept facing towards the door and took a few steps back to reach the cabinet door under the sink. When you grabbed the bottle, you stood up and extended your arm back for him to take the soap. “I can’t reach.” Hanma was seriously testing your patience. “Are you kidding me? Those fucking long ass arms of yours can’t reach?” You retorted and took a step back to get closer.

His hands brushed against yours when he reached over to take the bottle from your hands. It felt like electricity coursing through your veins, you almost - almost turned around to face him. “Thanks dollface.” Hanma said coyly, he was taking advantage of you looking the other way so that he could rake his eyes over your figure. Things that he never appreciated about you made his member twitch. You were always too kind, compared to him - you were a saint, an angel who had mercy on a devil.

After exiting the bathroom, you closed the door, making sure there was no way to see him exposed. You didn't know how much more you could take, your core was throbbing and your heart was pounding. If you could, you would go back there and…NO! He made his choice…You think to yourself as you peeled your body away from the door.

Stepping into your bedroom, you began to undress and change into your comfy clothing. It was already 2:00 a.m. and you were ready to just call it a night. A soft knock on your door made you jump and quickly finish changing - “Yes?”, he could hear you shuffling around in your room. “Got anything to eat?” Of course, the first thing he would ask for is food right after a shower, like always. He hasn’t really changed. “You are more than welcome to raid my fridge.” You said while stepping out of your room in your loungewear. Shorts and a tank top, it wasn’t anything flashy or sexy, but oh how you just lit a fire in him. Oh how he regrets letting you walk away that day. He could feel his cock begin to harden at how pretty your skin looked, he wanted to touch it, bite it and mark it.

“Shuji?” You asked, feeling a little uncomfortable at how his eyes traveled along your chest. When he refused to peel his eyes away, you scoffed and turned around to get back into your room to find a sweater or robe to wear. Hanma realized you were planning to hide away and walked in right behind you. The heavy footsteps made you spin around and you were now face to face with him. “Don't…” The low and heavy tone made your heart skip a beat. His word was laced with hunger, it was more of a demand than a request. It felt like you were rooted in place when he got closer, leaning in to ghost his lips on your neck. He could hear your breathing become unsteady, you wanted him more than you were letting on. Your scent was like heaven to him, you never stopped wearing that perfume he said he liked on you. The warm amber, vanilla and sandalwood notes had him intoxicated, memories of you underneath him began to play in his head.

“Shu…” You began to back away but were met with long slender arms being wrapped around your waist, pulling you in. “You're so beautiful, dollface…” He said while nipping at your neck. It made your breath hitch and a light moan escaped your lips. God you could feel his member throb and twitch against you as he left open mouth kisses on your neck. “No one comes close to what you feel like…” Hungry hands began to roam your back and waist, his calloused fingers were tracing your spine and dipping below to grip your hips - it made your breath hitch when he squeezed a little too tight. “Ow, Shuji - stop.” You pleaded but he pushed you backwards, making you fall back into the mattress. He had you pinned beneath him with his mouth latched on to your neck, sucking on the skin and leaving purple marks. It hurts too much to ignore the pain in the pleasure, to ignore the heartache that was running rampant in your chest. “Babe, stop!” In one motion you shoved him away from you, the tears in your eyes were now streaming down your face and he took notice. He was too busy devouring your neck to even feel the fat tears roll down your cheek. You didn’t realize what you just called him but oh how he caught that in an instant, there were still lingering feelings for him.

“You don’t get to just break into my apartment and expect me to act like nothing happened! I can’t act like you didn’t break my heart, I can’t act like you weren’t involved in a murder!” Those last words sounded too harsh, even for you - it made you clasp your hands over your mouth. So that’s what this was about, in his mind you were still bitter about him choosing Kisaki over you, he wasn’t even thinking about murder being the reason why you pushed him off. “Still being a bitch about me leaving you?” The smirk on his face made your heart drop, he thinks that he was the one that ended it? That he’s the one who called it quits? No, he was not about to try and belittle your feelings again.

“I fucking left you, you asshole! I walked out that door and you did nothing to stop me! Even after all I did for you, I gave myself to you-” Hanma was quick to cut you off. “I didn’t ask you to give yourself to me, babe.” The rancorous words felt like someone throwing acid in your face. Why did Hanma even decide to come here? He was responding the only way he knew how, like an asshole. Was it really that easy for him to think that you were going to bend to his will or that you were going to lovingly open your heart for him? “Why the fuck did you come here Shuji?” You spat back. There was a glint of pain in his eyes. He didn’t want to admit it but you were his last choice. When he saw your figure walk down the street a few days ago he was reminded of the days spent with you, how you were the only one who opened up to him and didn’t use him. The memories of having his hands wrapped around your throat while he fucked into your warm and tight walls, and seeing you smile as he did - it sent him over the edge. It was truly the only time he felt peace and maybe even love, but he had his head too far up his ass to even realize it. Once Kisaki was out of the picture, he knew he had nothing left.

“Get off of me Shuji…” You muttered while covering your face with your arm - he didn’t deserve to see you cry over him. Seeing you fall apart for the first time was clouding his judgment. He should have walked out of your apartment, there was a high chance that you would report him to the police if he stayed but the way your chest was heaving up and down - he couldn’t bring himself to leave you.

Hanma leaned in and you feel the strands of long hair cage your face, he nipped your bottom lip while gently moving your arm away from your face. He wanted to see your pouty face and etch it into his memory. Those golden eyes were like rich pools of honey, sucking you in just like before - as much as you wanted to resist, it was futile. The moment he reached to cup your face, you caved in and pulled him in by the collar of his shirt. The kisses were delicate and slow, growing hungrier by the second as you bit his lower lip - making him growl into the kiss. “Were you not happy with me?” You asked between kisses and sobs, you thought about him almost everyday and wondered if he was thinking of you. If he would have come back to you sooner, you were almost a 100% sure you would have ran away with him or hid him from the world.

He couldn’t respond, there was too much running through his head and the way you were kissing him, his whole body was becoming numb. “Shuji?” You asked, while running your fingers through his tresses. His large palms ran down your hips and gripped your ass, making you raise your hips to meet his. He began to move your hips into his, feeling the warmth of your clothed cunt made a whimper escape his throat. Oh how you missed him, behind that destructive demeanor was a man who melted for you.

“I found your notes, dollface.” He finally responded while pulling your shorts down. The pang in your chest felt like someone sucker punching you. “...and you didn’t come back to me?” The anguish in your tone made him feel guilty for once. A sob broke through the heated moment. He knew…he fucking knew… The inner voice was screaming at you, it knew not to trust him, it was begging you to stop before it went any farther. The sensation of something long and hard pressed between your thighs made you pull his hair back. He didn’t even bother to underdress, only pulling the sweats down enough to set his member free. Lining himself up with your slit, he pushed past your entrance and basked at how your body reacted to him. He didn’t even bother to prep you, he wanted to see the raw reactions that contorted your face with pain and pleasure. The stretch burned and you wanted to spit him back out but your body was betraying itself, it wanted more.

He was coating his cock with your sweet arousal by slowly pulling out and thrusting back in little by little when met with resistance. Soft moans and pants filled the room when he bottomed out, he remained still as he felt your velvet walls around his length. His head was resting in the crook of your neck, he too was trying hard not to break. Nothing compared to being buried inside you, your walls were his home, his sanctuary. You could feel him throb between your legs and let out a breathy moan. He took that as his que to move. Slow and deep thrusts had you whimpering underneath him, the way he completely filled you up made the coil in your belly tighten. He pulled your tank top down and pulled the cups of your unlined bra down to expose your perky breasts to the cool air.

Hanma licked his thumb and began to rub it on the pebbled nub. His saliva was acting like a lubricant and his thumb kept tracing gentle circles on it while his mouth latched on to your other nipple. The electricity that ran down your spine made your back arch. Innocent and sweet moans echoed in his ear, god how he loved hearing you fall apart for him. “Shuji…harder…” You begged as you ran your nails down his back, leaving red streaks and threatening to tear the skin. He smirked against your skin. Your body ached for him, burned for him - it felt like an eternity without him. He began to bite and suck on your nipples, making you moan loudly - loud enough for your neighbors to hear. “Fuck dollface, I miss making you scream for me.” He said as he moved on to your left nippled and began biting it again.

His hips began to pick up the pace, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot that had you moaning out his name. “Shit, (Y/N)- you’re gonna make me cum.” Just him panting and grunting out your name had you on cloud 9. The tip of his cock kept kissing your cervix, making you arch your back and pull his hair - never in a million years did you ever think he’d let his hair grow out but oh how it was working to your advantage. Those desperate and hungry moans that bled through his lips as you tugged those tresses had you grinning coyly, even while he was on top - he was losing control. More and more you found yourself wanting to break him, make him regret losing you and make him yours again.

Almost as if he could read your mind, he sat up and pinned your wrists above your head. It only took one hand to do so, there was no struggle to keep your small wrists in place. Those bright eyes of his reflected mischief and fire. “You’re still my good girl, yeah?” Hanma said as he slammed repeatedly into you, making your eyes roll into the back of your skull with each thrust. You could only absentmindedly nod your head and moan out a sweet yes for him. The way he would continuously bring you closer and closer to the edge was making new tears form on your lash line. “Oh god…” You moaned and tried to free your wrists. “Shuji…I’m so close…” He could only look down at you and admire your beautiful face contorted with pleasure. Pleasure that he was giving you, no one else - just him.

With his free hand, he began to teasingly trace light circles on your clit. The sensation was making your legs shake. Hanma can feel the way your walls were contracting and sucking him in deeper and tighter. He was beginning to feel the warmth ravage his core, low grunts and moans were bleeding from his mouth. Not only did he want to reach his high, he wanted you to reach yours as well. That unmistakable feeling was creeping up your spine, your breathing became erratic and with one final thrust and swipe of his fingers on your clit, your eyes were clouded in white.

He painted your walls white and continued to thrust until he completely emptied himself in you. Left in a sweaty and dazed mess you pulled him in for a heated kiss. “Stay with me Shuji.” You whispered into his lips, hoping he would say yes. “I’ll stay, dollface.” He grinned and continued to kiss you. Sweet nothings were exchanged, regardless of the things he did, you still loved him, you still kept him in your heart. Hanma knew that this was his home, you were his home - he should have never left. The whole night was spent between the sheets, that is until you both passed out from exhaustion.

Morning sunlight trickled into your room, the warmth of the bedsheets had you not wanting to open your eyes, let alone move from your comfortable position. You groaned when the sunlight hit your square in the face and you rolled over, the right side of the bed was cold and empty. When last night’s actions finally replayed in your head, you jolted up in a panic - “Shuji?” You gasped and wrapped yourself in a bathrobe. Your legs felt like jelly and you couldn’t even walk straight. “Shuji!” You called out yet again and were met with silence. Looking around, you noticed that the extra close you had kept from him was missing. Your wallet was open and on the table. He stole what little cash you had and walked out. He knew he couldn't stay here with you, not like this. “You fucking liar!” You screamed inside the empty home with hot tears falling down your face. He could have at least said goodbye, he could have at least told you no when you asked him to stay but all he could do was tell you lies and disappear. Something deep down inside you was telling you that this was the last time you’d ever see him again.

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