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#I have nothing against Random Guy A
warlordfelwinter · 7 months
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owning a house and having to hire your own professional for every discrete issue is both better and worse than just being able to call maintenance like i hate having to find and talk to various trades people just bc i hate talking to people but on the other hand i don't have to wait for a useless landlord to deign to send someone
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freakshowcowboy · 2 years
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i am once again thignking about my spencer reid relationships au
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puzzledemigod · 9 months
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Ok I did the whole Barbenheimer thing and let me tell you, Barbie wasn't revolutionary or anything, but it did come up ahead. It did what it was supposed to do and, since I managed my expectations before going in, did it in a fun silly way that still left a bunch of possible deeper readings, even if they were sadly left unexplored (and were maybe unintended). Oppenheimer on the other hand left me very angry and disappointed, even if I went there knowing it was an usamerican warfilm so I wasn't expecting much.
I think Barbie and Oppenheimer were equally superficial and obvious with their intended messages presentations, themes and characters, and equally inconsistent with their story threads. But Barbie was about Barbies, was intentionally silly, and had more going for it than the story itself... and Oppenheimer was about one of the real life creators of the atonic bomb, about the ones responsible for the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings, and about the subsequent cold war and the mess it left us today in regards to the existence and threat of atomic and H bombs.
I think I can safely say one had the responsibility to be a bit more nuanced and careful than the other, and that just did not happen. And no, i do not think there was any actual anti USA sentiment in Oppenheimer, as someone who lives in a Developing Country (TM)and is used to seeing usamerican propaganda all the time there was barely even a scratch of criticism buried in there; our knowledge of history and our own modern sensibilities and morality did all the heavy lifting in that front without the movie having to risk saying anything. Oh did he feel bad while the bombs were being dropped? Did they villanize a guy who went after him for uhh being better than him at public speaking? Did they say he was against the H bomb and was a pacifist now, actually (without showing it much but who cares, tell not show right)? He was still the hero. Not one Japanese person was shown. Not one civilian protest, not one appearance of the communists they were talking so much about after the scenes in the past, doing anything but talking the whole time. He still ended up with a "I love my country" tirade, there was still a haha nod to fucking Kennedy being the one to be on our hero's side. They still showed more scenes of women naked, drunk, cheating on their husbands and being negligent towards their kids than of them doing literally anything else.
The "nuance" and "anti-usa messages" was just a bunch of misplaced and inconsequential internal conflict that did not feel earned in any way, misogyny and random, boring and inconsistent jury scenes (sorry, "hearing" scenes or whatever they called so there wouldn't have to be consistent rules to follow). And the main character was so damn boring. And they didn't even represent the actual science parts well. And the editing was so weird and the flashing scenes didn't fit and were repetitive. And there was a happy ending for some reason?? It was a whole bunch of nothing with music building momentum that never went anywhere in the background of every scene for 3 hours and I wanted to leave the room for how angry it made me that this subject was treated that way and would probably get praised for it.
#barbenheimer#this isn't the most well though out criticism but i just saw another post saying how surprised they were about the usa criticism in that#and like. where? seriously where was it? oh that mccarthyism was kinda bad for people who did nothing wrong? that bombs are violent?#they barely even said that bombing hiroshima and nagasaki maybe wasn't necessary#everybody everywhere in the world knows that jfc are usamericans in general so behind in these discussions that this was some kind of#revelation? was that surprising of a movie to state? because oppenheimer barely scrathed that#they gave a shoutout to jfk in the end like he was some kind of mcu easter egg#like it was funny#and then it used that random idk sennator? as a scapegoat just so they could have a villain like the good basic usamerican film it is#so the hero could fight against the system by defeating this one guy! in uhh being promoted (?) happy ending for all!! hurrah!!! meanwhile#hundreds of thousands of japanese people are dead. many more die because of the cold war and the arms race#but oppenheimer got his fancy card back! isn't that great? aren't you glad you spent the last 30 minutes in these trials? the last 3 hours#watching nothing be developed?#god it left me so mad#and it will probably win an oscar (probably multiple even) and a lot of other people who think oooh boy look at that nuance :0 it even has#black and white parts! when the whole movie is black and white (like most usamerican movies) (but it's so EASY to make it grey with this#subject) (of course they didn't tho this is much easier)#tags#anyway nobody's gonna read this probably#I'm just angry#“oppenheimer”#“barbie”#this js barely even about barbie#sorry
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chaotic-history · 1 year
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I will die on this hill
#cause the whole thing in Candide is he's arguing against Leibnitz who's saying it's the best of all possible worlds and that everything#that happens happens for an eventually good reason#and Voltaire's not just arguing that everything is terrible; for all that he's smarter than Pangloss Martin is still wrong about Cacambo#coming back.#and Martin's idea was that there's a Good god and a Bad god that control everything#but Candide (book not character) shows that things like the Lisbon earthquake or good men drowning simply don't have a reason; good or bad#things happen essentially randomly and there's no order to it#*but*#(and this is moving away from the absurdism point but I want to talk about it)#despite all the random uncontrollable things Candide faces there's also much that's manmade#and I've seen some interpretations of the book that seem to thing the ending is saying to just escape from the world and don't bother#with trying to change it but I don't think that's the point because first of all obviously Voltaire didn't think it was useless to try and#change things or he wouldn't have written the fucking book; and also Martin and Pangloss share the similarity of believing that#any attempt to better the world is pointless because Pangloss thinks it couldn't get any better and Martin. well. also thinks that but in a#negative way#and the way I see it the book is as much a critique of fatalism as it is of Leibnitz's optimism#and really those are one and the same; if this is the best world it means nothing can ever improve and we're stuck in this pile of shit#tldr; shit happens for no reason; ya can't fix it but at least you could make it a bit better for the people around you; and you might as#well enjoy some pistachios while you're doing it#guys i promise i do know how to write actual literary analysis and someday i'll post it#but it's easier to just rant in the tags for 5 minutes#also jacques and the old woman both fundamentally changed the story through being willing to help candide + pangloss/cunégonde
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oflgtfol · 2 years
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just saw ur symbiote post and oh my god I met a devoted Venom fan whose favorite is AntiVenom and god did that like…..lowkey offend me??? like dawg wanted a tool and not a partner/bodymate that’s with you all the time and hangs out with you??? so boring
god i truly do not care for anti-venom. the idea of a symbiote, any symbiote, that's just some mindless being there for the host to use as a tool is just so messed up to me, and it's a real kicker when people get all riled up about symbiotes controlling their hosts but then act like it's totally fine when it's the other way around, like it's a two way street baby both symbiote and host need to respect each other and have autonomy otherwise it's fucked up
i guess theoretically if anti-venom was presented less as like, "the remnants of venom symbiote left behind in host's bloodstream form together to make another symbiote again, but this time a mindless one that the host can manipulate at will" and more like. just the way that having a symbiote be in you for so long might alter YOUR own personal body, in ways that would give you symbiote-like powers, but without an actual symbiote involved?? then maybe i'd be down. but as soon as you say Oh yeah, anti-venom involves an actual symbiote too, it's just mindless, then it's like -- you're treating it like a fucking inanimate object?
anyway. so thats my Symbiote Defense Squad opinion on anti-venom. marvel comics constantly make me witness crimes against humanity being wielded against symbiotes and then having everyone be a-okay with it because they aren't human as if that makes it alright in the end
but even in a more superficial way it's just.... it's so fucking boring. it is so damn boring. anti-venom (or really any other symbiote/host pair, when you ignore the symbiote involved) is essentially just Marvel Superpowered Character With Weird Monster-Like Design #32904854903095032. there's nothing unique or interesting about it. i mean the visual design is cool i guess but there's so many fucking people in these comics who have similar things going on. it's been done before and it's boring
the whole appeal of venom, and symbiotes in general, is the idea of this human person who is completely normal on their own, then becoming superpowered not due to their own abilities but because of a little friend sharing their mind and body. the whole appeal is the give and take of two beings with their own thoughts, feelings, and needs having to foster a friendship, or at least an alliance, together in order to get shit done. the whole appeal is the relationship between symbiote and host otherwise it becomes boring and cliche and uninteresting, because again, ignoring the symbiote's role makes the pair just become a human with some weird shit going on, which is pretty much 70% of all ten thousand million marvel characters. its just so fucking boring
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hanzajesthanza · 2 years
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my toxic trait is seeing regis in fanart of guys that are not. emiel regis
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fionnaskyborn · 4 months
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ten thousand mannequin attack upon the next [REDACTED] fan who visits my blog
#logs#lmfao (lamenting my fucking anguish online)#listen i know i partially signed up for this when i played the games and listened to the audiodrama and read the novelizations and whatnot.#however‚ as a person who (despite not being very hateful most of the time) wants to drop hydrogen bombs on all but a select few#[REDACTED] fans‚ GET OUT#obligatory this post was written by a person who detests bombs and nuclear weapons et cetera et cetera. it's complicated.#also saw the nthousandth ''haha [REDACTED] is a raging misogynist'' ''''joke'''' today. please shut the fuck up.#the relationship i have with the greater fanbase of these games is very negative to begin with but if the topic is [REDACTED] in particular#i open the door to my house the way a conservative american geezer would - with a grimace on my face and a shotgun in my hands#the worst part is that i really don't have anything against random fans visiting my blog - i like passersby and i like talking to people#about mutual interests‚ i think that much is obvious! i believe myself to be a rather easygoing guy as far as those things go.#but the amount of laptopshutworthy slop that comes from the big names of this pseudo-community makes me feel outraged#again i have to emphasize that i have nothing against regular ass people who are into these videogames‚ i'm not gonna shoo away a random#stranger just because they like this one thing‚ far from it#but there is a specific flavor‚ so to speak‚ of fans who dish out nothing but takes and analyses that make you wish you didn't have eyes#which i want nothing to do with#and this post is referring EXCLUSIVELY to those people. no one else.
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fujikoi · 9 months
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I love the x writers with minors don’t interact in their bio that post stuff like this in the tag:
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I have filtered nsfw and y/n. Blacklisted x reader, nsfw, y/n and smut.
Should I start filtering any sexual act I can think of? I’m a new fan, should I blacklist every character name x reader before entering the tag?
The post has three stories in it and obviously the readmore is after the first one.
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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months
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no more mister shy guy.
OP x fem!reader
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in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you
i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3
songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice
warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff
2.8k words
you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.
oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.
he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.
oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.
it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.
but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.
“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.
“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.
oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.
you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.
“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.
“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.
panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.
“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”
“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”
“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.
you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.
your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.
“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.
“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”
oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.
he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.
“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”
the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.
“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.
“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.
painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.
he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.
“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.
you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.
you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.
you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.
his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.
“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.
he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.
“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.
“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.
“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.
oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.
“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.
“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.
“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.
his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.
“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.
oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.
“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.
“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.
“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.
“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.
oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.
“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.
“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.
“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.
the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.
“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.
“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.
he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.
thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.
“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.
you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.
“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.
“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.
“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.
“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.
“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.
“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”
“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.
“there he is.” you sigh happily.
when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.
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whoops? lol
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taglist
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(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)
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tootiecakes234 · 4 months
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Katsuki dating obliviously hot reader:
Characters aged up
Kinda smutty
Katsuki doesn’t even really see people in a hot or non hot way but then…. in walks you. The person that has him a blubbering, babbling mess. He thinks it’s insane, how fucking amazing you look all the time and it’s hard to control himself around you.
You’re at a party and you were dancing on him. In the middle of you pretty much dry humping him, Mina pulls you away from him and toward her. The thing is before he can hide it, she looks down at his groin and BAM
“Dude I can see your hard on through your pants.” And all your other friends turn around and start trying to see.
The blonde’s face now has a deep blush but he speak in an even tone. “Yea well yall would be too if someone as hot as Y/N was dancing on you. Too bad you losers get no play.”
He then rips you back outta Mina’s arms and spins you around so your back is to his front yet again. He has his dick placed snuggly against your clothes between your cheeks.
You guys are going out on a date and you’re bloated asf and nothing looks right. You’ve changed outfits like 4 times now and Kats in starvin.
He comes barging in the room and your in long sleeve shirt with a thigh length skirt and some cute shoes. You’re in the mirror adjusting and leaning towards a hell no when you hear him whisper under his breath, “damn”
“Do I look bad? I feel gross. Maybe we can get takeout and just stay here.”
“Gross? You gotta be fucking kiddin me. We are going to go out and I’m gonna be trying my damndest not to beat the shit out of the sea of guys that are gonna be eye fucking you and you’re calling yourself gross. Grab your damn purse and let’s go y/n.”
Well then. Guess you cant argue with that.
You’re at the gym together and you were both doing your own things. You’re on the treadmill when some guy comes up on the one next to you and starts talking.
It seems harmless enough so you engage him for a while until you get a text alert on your phone. When you check Kit Kat is on the screen so you open the message.
Kit Kat: come here.
That’s random so you look up to find where he is in the gym and discover hes near the weights. When you lock eyes with him, you see murder in his eyes.
Aww fuck. He’s pissed. You know your man is territorial, but damn.
You excuse yourself from the conversation you were only half heartedly invested in and walk over to him.
“Look it wasn’t-“ but your words are cut off from his lips pressing against yours and you feel his hand graze over your ass.
You’re glad the gym is half empty cuz damn.
“That idiots been looking at my ass in these tights since you walked in. I’m gonna have to put a fucking taken sticker on your forehead.”, he growled low next to your ear.
“Instead of all that, you can just put a ring on my finger.” You say smugly.
He chuckles at you, “yea that’s probably a better option.”
Katsuki Masterlist
@justbepeace
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catcze · 7 months
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⠀「 Giving them random kisses (part 2) 」 
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Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
「 FEAT : 」 Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Lyney, Kaveh, Alhaitham (separate) x GN! reader
「 ### : 」 fluff n romance ! Some heavy kissing, but tbh nothing that warrants much more of a warning. Kaveh's is... a little sad, but it ends well ♡
A long-overdue part two !! Listen guys pls pls pls dont let this flop i actually efforted on this one haksdj 💔
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⠀「 WRIOTHESLEY 」
He's initially pretty surprised, but he recovers quickly and smoothly.
He hasn't had many people showering him with affection, so it's a bit of a learning curve with you being so sweet to him.
Does his best to reciprocate though! He doesn't want you feeling like he loves you any less.
He ends up liking the surprise kisses more than he could have ever thought ♡
"Hey Wrio," you murmur from where you sit on his lap. Your boyfriend is engrossed with the documents in his hand, though one arm is still wrapped around your waist, holding you against him.
Wriothesley doesn't look up when you call his name. His eyes are still trained on the fine print, though he does acknowledge you with the tilt of his head and a, "Hm?"
You take his momentary distraction to reach up and pull his face down so you can reach it and plant a small, sweet kiss on his cheek. It's delicate and chaste, just the press of your lips to his skin, as light as the landing of a butterfly, but from the corner of your eye you see the way his eyes widen and the telltale flush of his cheeks.
He gulps, his entire body turning warm under your touch.
"It's nothing," you say, one hand still cradling his cheek. The documents crinkle in his grip, and you smile. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you, is all."
Before you can even realize, Wriothesley is craning his neck and turning your head so that he can press a full kiss against your lips, heart racing as he steals your breath. The way he kisses you is frantic, rough. Like he can't get enough of you in the moment. Like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, and the only thing he can do about it is kiss you harder.
When you finally separate, you're both heaving for air, foreheads pressed together and breath mingling. Every one of his exhales tickles your lips, and under your palm, you can feel how his heart thumps in his chest.
Wriothesley's breath is ragged when he speaks; breathless like he's just ran a marathon. "Just wanted to remind you that I love you too," he whispers.
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⠀「 NEUVILLETTE 」
He's been around humans for a long time. It's to be expected that he's had enough time to observe what humans in love do.
Specifically with kisses, Neuvillette has always been a little intrigued.
What is it that makes the meeting of lips so enjoyable for humans? Is it different from the act of holding hands? From the act of linking arms as you walk down a street together?
It's with you that he finally finds his answers.
"Neuvi!" you call, walking into his office. There's a beaming grin as you close the door behind you, bags of takeout food in your hands. "I've brought lunch!"
Neuvillette raises his head the moment he hears your voice, his lips curving in a soft smile. By the time you've approached, rounding his desk and giving him a kiss on the forehead in greeting, the Iudex has already put away his case files and has cleared a place for you on his desk.
You perch on it with ease, one of Neuvillette's hands coming up to push you up, and place the takeout bags beside you. "Hey," you tell him with a smile, looking down at him from where you sit.
"Hello." Neuvillette's eyes glitter from this angle, and the way he smiles so fondly at you makes him look nothing like the scary Iudex that some people think he is. If anything, with the way he looks at you, he just looks like any other man in love. One of his hands find yours, gently weaving his fingers between yours and caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "Thank you for bringing me lunch," he says. "You didn't have to."
"Mm, it's not for free, though!" You tell him with a grin, and one of his brows rise.
"Oh?"
"Mhm," you nod sagely, leaning forward so that your lips hover just above his. There's a smile on your face, and one of your hands goes to his shoulder to steady yourself. "I want a kiss for all my hard work."
"is that so," he muses, expression becoming just the slightest bit teasing. "Does the one you took upon arrival not meet your requirements, my dear?"
"That was nice, but I want a kiss kiss, Neuvi," you tell him, pouting just a bit.
Neuvillette chuckles under his breath, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck and pull you in closer. "That can be arranged," he murmurs, just before his lips meet yours.
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⠀「 LYNEY 」
A relationship with him consists of so! many! kisses!
My guy acts like he's gonna fall ill if he doesn't have a kiss from you every so often.
Literally, he takes any excuse to kiss you that he can get!
And if you're the one initiating a little smooch? He'll be over the moon!
"If you're trying playing a magic trick on me, you're already cheating," Lyney laughs. He's seated on a chair in the the Hotel Bouffes d'ete, a silk handkerchief covering his eyes. One of his eyebrows are raised, and there's a joking quirk to his lips. Although he can't see it, you roll your eyes and tighten the blindfold.
"You're sure you can't see anything?" You ask when you think you've got it tight enough. You wave a hand in front of his face, and he doesn't even flinch.
"All I'm seeing now is my life if you were not in it, mon amour. Nothing but endless darkness." He's grinning while he says it, but you know he means every word, cheesy little shit that he is. You grumble the thought aloud, and he has the audacity to laugh.
You pull away, keeping one hand on his shoulder so he still knows you're there. "Alright smooth talker," you say. "Give me a number from one to ten."
"Ooh, a very intriguing question," Lyney hums. "I'll take the safe route... and go with five."
"Okay. Final answer?"
"Have I ever been one to take back my words, mon amour?"
You grumble again, and his grin widens. Your hands rise to cup his face, tilting it up for easier access. Lyney is lost for a second, lost on what you could have up your sleeve— then you press kisses to his face in rapid succession. One of his forehead, another two on each of his cheeks, one on his nose, and a last one on his lips. That one you drag out a little longer, feel his lips against yours with a familiarity that only you have ever known, before it ends too quickly. Five kisses, just as he's asked.
When you remove the blindfold, he stares at you, light flush high on his cheeks, lips tingling with the urge to kiss you more.
You grin. "Good enough of a magic trick for you?"
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⠀「 KAVEH 」
For Kaveh, your kisses are nothing short of an oasis in the middle of the desert.
When he feels at his lowest, debt and impending deadlines creeping in on him, there's nothing that pulls him out of his headspace like affection from you.
If he feels like he's about to drown, you pull him out of the water.
For that reason, he welcomes every ounce of affection you can spare.
"Kaveh, it's late," you beckon him from under the sheets, a yawn crawling up your throat. "Come sleep. You can continue your work in the morning."
"Go first," he says, leaning over another set of schematics, hand pushed into his hair in frustration, a deep frown marring his face. "I'll join you once I finish this." His voice is distant, distracted, as if he's just spitting out preset lines in his head.
You've been saying that for hours now, you want to tell him. It's hard not to feel a little neglected when your boyfriend refuses to look at you for hours at a time— when he continues to run himself ragged despite all your best efforts at trying to make sure he doesn't break himself in his pursuit of perfection.
When Kaveh sighs once more, slamming his hands on his desk in frustration and groaning so loudly you're sure Alhaitham is cursing him out from his room, you slip out from under the sheets and walk over to him.
"Kaveh," you say again, a hand on his shoulder.
"What," he snaps at you before he can help it, teeth bared. When he sees how you flinch, hand threatening to pull away, he quickly looks down, staring at the sheets of paper with shame and regret. "I'm sorry," he says in a quiet voice, head hung and hands trembling. The fight and frustration drains out of his body, leaving him tired. Tired and feeling terrible.
You sigh— you don't blame him for the outburst. Archons knows he's been on the receiving side for a few of your own bad moods. That's just how some days can be, being graduates of the akademia. Gently you take hold of his cheek and guide him to look up at you, and when his eyes hesitantly meet yours, you smile a little sleepily.
"I forgive you," you say, giving him a gentle kiss on the forehead, moving down to his nose, and then ending on his lips. You can feel just the slightest curve of his smile as you kiss softly, feel the way his shoulders relax just a bit under your care.
"Come on. You need rest," you tell him, gently tugging him to his feet and leading him to the soft, warm bed. This time, he does not protest.
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⠀「 ALHAITHAM 」
With him, it's a little difficult to randomly kiss him, because he's very rarely caught off guard.
He intercepts a lot of your attempts!
Whether it be side-stepping you to make you gasp in affront, or stealing your thunder and kissing you before you can kiss him— needless to say it's a challenge.
Good thing you always rise to challenges.
From the moment you enter the living room and perch yourself on the couch beside him, Alhaitham is squinting at you in suspicion. You just grin, not dissuaded by the sharp look in his eye.
"You're planning something," he say, snapping his book close.
You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. "Who, me? Bold statement, mister grand sage."
"Acting grand sage. Non-permanent."
"Same thing," you dismiss with a wave of your hand. His stare only narrows further. "Now! I need to you do something for me, dearest love of mine. Give me your hands, would you?"
And although his nose wrinkles at the cheesy nickname, he complies, albeit a little hesitantly. One of the perks of him being your boyfriend, you suppose— lessened questions about any shenanigans you might pull.
When you're securely gripping his hands, weaving your fingers together and ensuring that he can't pull away (his brow furrows when he tries. He's getting more suspicious about what you're about to pull) you grin.
"Okay. Now close your eyes."
"I'd rather not," Alhaitham shuts you down immediately, and you frown.
"Please?"
"Tell me why, first."
"Just—! I pinky promise you'll like it. I super swear that you'll like it!"
And eventually he relents, eyes falling shut. You cheer internally, and before he can change his mind, you swoop forward to give him a kiss. The surprise of it catches him off-guard for once, and his hands clench yours, but just as you'd expected he doesn't try to pull away— if anything, he pushes back into the press of your lips, kissing you even harder than you kissed him.
When you separate, your face feels warm and your palms are undoubtedly sweaty, but he hasn't let you go for a second. Alhaitham swallows down a gulp of air, chest heaving just a little, and you feel the bubble of victory in your chest. "See? I told you you'd like it."
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appocalipse · 1 month
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that guy ⊹ steve harrington
summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words
── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.
It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.
To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.
You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.
"Hi."
You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"
"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."
A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.
How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?
You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.
"So...not the one, I take it?"
Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.
"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."
"Nothing is wrong with you."
"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"
The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."
Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.
"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."
"She does."
"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."
"At least you have one."
He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"
You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.
What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.
Until it wasn't.
"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."
"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."
Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"
You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."
"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"
Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.
Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.
"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."
"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.
Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"
"You...don't know him," you hedge.
"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."
"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."
Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."
The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.
You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."
"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.
You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?
You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.
"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."
Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.
The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.
No, you aren't going to cry.
This is stupid.
You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.
When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.
You don't have to look up to know that it's him.
"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.
"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.
There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.
"You look just fine to me."
You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."
He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."
"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.
"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.
You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.
"I should've never asked. That was selfish."
"Forget it," you say.
He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.
You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.
"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."
"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."
"Yup. Exactly. In there."
"So you said."
"Yep."
The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—
He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.
"Okay, so—"
You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.
"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.
He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."
You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.
"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.
Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"
"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."
"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"
He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.
"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."
"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.
"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."
"Steve."
"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."
"Steve—"
"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."
He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.
Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.
"Is this okay?" he whispers.
"I don't—what?"
Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.
"This," Steve murmurs.
He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.
"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."
"I think I am."
His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.
"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"
You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.
"Yes. It's you."
A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.
You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.
"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."
A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.
"Oh yeah?"
"Completely."
You kiss him this time.
1K notes · View notes
kooqitas · 1 month
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— playing in the park lot ★ with: jjk!
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#pairings: bf!jungkook X reader #synopsis: after getting a little too angry at a random guy wanting his girlfriend, jungkook decides to give him a present. #tags: pwp, angry sex, public sex, no condom, spit kink, both drunk. #notes: JUST STREAM HOPE ON THE STREET! #wc: 1,4k blog em português X twitter
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"no, don't even start, jungkook!" you muttered as soon as you saw your boyfriend staring at the guy on the other side, bringing the beer bottle to his mouth and swallowing the liquid in visible hatred.
"i'm not starting anything! the guy over there has no respect and is eating you with his eyes," muttered, still staring at the man.
"half the party is also staring at you and eating you up with their eyes, and that's not why i'm freaking."
"of course not, you like this shit!" he said loudly, pulling your waist against his.
don't take this the wrong way, jungkook was the perfect boyfriend, he cared for you too much, he'd face a bullet for you or whatever, he just fucking loved you and wanted to protect you from everything and everyone.
but sometimes he went overboard, and that was one of the times.
god, jungkook was completely irritated just because a guy looked at you from afar, and yes, you knew it wasn't an innocent look, but you just ignored it.
"do i like that shit?" you asked offended. "jungkook, if I wanted to fuck with another guy, i would have done it a long time ago." you rolled your eyes, continuing to roll around to the music that was playing. "relax, baby, hm? you know i'm just yours, don't you?"
you stood on your tiptoes, trying to give your annoyed boyfriend a kiss, but it didn't do much good, jungkook was actually angry about the situation, god, how could anyone be so stupid?
for the next few seconds, your boyfriend finally calmed down a bit, continuing to dance with you. that was one of the things you liked most about jungkook, he wasn't the kind of guy who held your waist and expected you to roll around on him all night, he just drove you crazy with him. pressing his hips against yours, rubbing his cock in your body, dancing with jungkook was begging to get wet in his arms, and you liked it that.
due to the large amount of alcohol you had consumed, the need to go to the bathroom became apparent, so you left, heading for the bathroom and leaving jungkook on the dance floor.
you waited a few minutes, the waiting line was infinitely long and peeing yourself silly was always an event.
a comical event, by the way.
but as soon as you'd finished, washed your hands and touched up your lipstick in the mirror, you left the bathroom, looking for your boyfriend on the dance floor.
or at least trying to, since a large hand grabbed your waist.
and you knew that hand wasn't your boyfriend.
"hey, kitten, decided to give your boyfriend a break, have you?"
"don't touch m-"
you didn't even get to finish, because the next second jungkook was punching the face of the guy who tried to kiss you.
and that's the story of how you and jungkook got kicked out of the club.
shit.
"there's no point in getting angry, jungkook! i didn't do anything."
silence.
"fuck, aren't you going to say anything?"
his boyfriend didn't answer, keeping silent all the way to the parking lot where the car was.
and that's where you got angry. fuck, it could have been anyone's fault but yours, you'd done absolutely nothing.
"jungkook, it's not my fault you're a lunatic who doesn't know how to socialize in public, stop acting like i did something." you pulled him by his arm, spitting the words in his face.
"you knew he was dying to fuck you."
"and what the hell do i have to do with it? literally the only person who fucks me in this world is you, shit! if i wanted to give it to another guy i would have given it to him ages ago, now, if you're going to get angry about something that didn't even happen, maybe i should go back inside and fuck with him!" you shouted.
you didn't even see how it happened, but the next minute jungkook's body was pressing you down on the hood of the car, his wet tongue making a mess of your mouth and his hard cock rubbing against you as he pulled your skirt up roughly.
"jung-jungkook, the cameras." you tried to say, the words being swallowed by the mouth on yours.
"now you care if anyone can see you?" he laughed. "you don't want to fuck, sweetheart? you're going to fuck me right here, right now!"
it would be a lie to say that it didn't turn you on, unfortunately that was a truth you were forced to deal with, jungkook's jealousy made you horny, very horny, and the insanities he committed after a crisis gave you the best orgasms ever seen in the history of the face of the earth.
in the process of lifting your skirt, he ended up breaking the zipper, and too irritated, he just ripped the strap of your thin blouse, exposing your breasts there as he leaned over the hood and started sucking on your nipples.
his nimble hand went to your wet hole, rubbing his middle finger over the lace panties you were wearing. yes, it was a fact that you intended to end the night with jungkook's cock inside you.
you just didn't count on the element of surprise that it would happen to him in the parking lot of the club.
"that dirty little cunt got wet seeing me jealous, didn't it? go ahead, whore, you love it when other guys get desperate to cum in you and i get angry."
without any warning he penetrated your middle and ring fingers, quickly establishing a punishing rhythm while biting and sucking on your nipples.
you moaned something disconnected, your boyfriend looked so handsome with rage and that made you even hornier.
a third finger was added and with your loud scream jungkook took the opportunity to spit in your mouth, slapping you across the face immediately afterwards.
it was pathetic how he put you over the edge in such a short time, and it was only a matter of seconds before you screamed that you were going to come on his fingers.
but he wouldn't let you.
jungkook flipped you onto your back in an aggressive way, the cold metal of the car in contact with the nipples of your breasts was enough to make you cum, but everything got even better when jungkook put his thick cock in your cunt, slamming it hard against you while bending your body even more on the hood of the car.
"my cockslut, you're such a beautiful little whore for me, baby. let me fuck your hot little hole right here where everyone can see you."
and you contracted hearing those words.
"you like it, don't you? desperate for your man to fill your pussy with my cum, you'll take anything i want, right?"
the heavy hand slapping against your ass, leaving red marks, while you drooled on the hood of the car because you couldn't even close your mouth.
"i'd like to take you back inside and spurt in your pussy in front of everyone. you'd love it, wouldn't you? everyone seeing that you're so desperate for cock that you'll accept me fucking you anywhere."
"j-jungkook!" you moaned, and your boyfriend understood what that moan was all about.
jungkook moved his middle finger to your clitoris, making relaxed movements while he thrust into you, calling you a whore, a slut, a bitch. you could only moan.
and when he pressed your face even harder against the side of the car, you came, so hard that Jungkook came right after, filling your hole with his warm liquid.
"good, baby, you were so good! so perfect for me…"
you smiled, feeling good about your recent orgasm.
"shhh, hold on, don't get up yet!" jungkook took his cell phone out of his pocket, squatting down to record a short video of you lying on the hood of the car and leaking his cum. "so beautiful, so fucking mine, i love you so much, princess."
jungkook kissed your back, and as you lifted your head you saw that he was staring at a specific point in the parking lot.
the guy who hit on you was watching everything from the other side.
your boyfriend laughed before helping you into your clothes, or at least what was left of them…
he blew a lazy kiss to the man who was staring at everything and opened the car door.
"you're bad, jungkook!" you laughed.
"me? fuck, princess, you're the one who agreed to give it to me this cunt in the middle of the parking lot."
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dolldefiler · 2 months
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C/W: Incest
Hey, honey, how was your da-. What’s wrong baby? Are you okay? What happened? No, it’s not nothing. You can tell me, princess. He did what? He cheated on you? That fucking twerp cheated on my baby girl? How dare he? Is he blind? Who would cheat on you? No, it’s not okay, muffin. That douchebag had the hottest girl ever and he stuck his dicklet in some random street whore? What a fucking moron.
What’s that honey? Y-yeah? I don’t want to creep you out, but… I think you’re the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. Aww, come here, baby. Yes, of course I mean it. Show you? You want your own Daddy to show you that he’s telling the truth? Well, sweetheart, can you feel that hard, throbbing thing poking at your butt right now? Let me tell you a secret. That’s not my phone. That’s my cock, hard as fuck because you look gorgeous. Shh, baby. You’re okay. It’s okay. Daddy’s wanted this for so long now. 
Let me show you exactly why you don’t need a pathetic little boy like that bastard. Let me show you why I love you the most. God, look at those huge, fucking tits. You’re alright, sweetpea. Why do you think your tits are this big, if they weren’t meant for Daddy to molest them? Oh fuck, can you feel Daddy’s cock against you? Honey, I am your father. I have seen your chest before. Stop struggling. Let me just… Fuck, finally. Wow, you have the most perfect nipples, don’t you? They’re even better than your mother’s.
God, you make my dick throb with your skirt flipped up like that. Mhm, I’ve not seen this pair of panties before. Did your mother buy them for you? God, let’s take them off… Fuck. You’re beautiful. Those silly fucking boys don’t deserve to even look at you, do they? Sweetheart, look at me. Look at me, kiddo. That’s a good girl. Hush, there’s no need to cry now. You’re safe with me. Look, Daddy’s going to fuck you now, kiddo. I’m going to put my dick inside you, and you will enjoy it. Yeah? Yeah.
YES! Fuck, nobody else deserves this pussy more than me. I made you so I own this perfect, tight pussy. I took care of you when you were a child. I'll take care of you now that you're a big girl. Fuck, fuck, FUCK! God, you’re even fucking tighter than your mother, kiddo. Your pretty pussy’s convulsing on Daddy’s dick so well. Look at you with your tongue out like that. If you look so horny when Daddy’s pounding his dick into you, I’m going to have to kiss your beautiful face. Oh shit, did you just cum? Did you just cum over your own father’s cock? I knew you were a degenerate, just like me. I knew you were fucked up inside. You’ll never need another guy’s cock buried inside you, will you? Not with your own Daddy stretching your holes at home. God, princess, I’m cumming. I’m going to pour my load into my own daughter’s pussy. Your pussy’s CHOKING my fucking cock! Shit yes, drain every fucking drop inside you. That’s a perfect fucking girl. God, I love you.
Is that enough proof, muffin? Is that enough proof that I think you’re hot?
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
Text
good boy
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words: 1.5k
warnings: established relationship, marriage, protective!rafe, (guard??) dog, fluffy
“rafe, it's literally two weeks. ill be fine!” you say, folding his clothes, having dumped out his suitcase onto the bed to reorganize it when you saw how he packed it, just chucking things in.
“two weeks where im a hours away from you by plane.” rafe sighs, watching you carefully repack his suitcase as he pouts on the bed, not wanting to leave you.
“you know, cameron, i lived a whole 20 years before meeting you.” you point out, knowing while rafes concern comes from his love for you, it will completely overwhelm what is supposed to be an enjoyable family vacation and leave him miserable the whole time.
“i don't see why you can't just come with me.” rafe groans, flopping back against the bed. you smile and round the bed to where his head is resting against the pillows. you press a smooch to his forehead, rubbing your hand over his head, petting at his soft hair.
“baby, it's just for your family. you know that.” it's not like you don't want to accompany rafe to a tropical paradise, but you would feel way too awkward intruding.
“what if something happens to you? and im not here to protect you? id be the worst fiancee ever.” rafe grabs your head from rubbing his head, holding up the ring on your finger for him to admire.
“nothing will happen. nothing ever happens here.” you laugh. you're not sure what crime is like on the other side of the island, but your neighborhood is incredibly safe.
“im still worried.” rafe sighs. “you in that big house all alone.”
“im gonna spend 99% of the time wedding planning.” you hum, thinking about the tabs pulled open on your laptop of different venues, dresses, and color palettes.
that finally gets rafe to crack a smile. “can't wait to marry you.” rafe says earnestly. he only proposed a month ago, some people would say that you were too young to get married, but rafe knew when you came into his life and turned everything around for him that he had to put a ring on your finger.
“i can't wait either.” you bend down to press a kiss to rafes lips. “but seriously we need to talk about your packing before we tie the knot, why do you only have one pair of shorts packed for an island?”
-- two years later --
“remember those two weeks you left before we were engaged? it's not really much longer. you should go, baby. it's a good opportunity.” you are sat on rafes lap, back pressed against his chest as he scrolls through his email.
“it's just work, and it's a whole lot longer than two weeks. i don't want to leave you here alone for over a month.” rafe closes out of the email, making you sigh.
“i was fine for those two weeks, ill be fine now. promise. i think you should go! it's a big conference.” you turn sideways on his lap so you can look rafe in the eye. “besides, it's still six months away. plenty of time to prepare.”
“prepare?” rafe raises his eyebrows. “so you'd be good with security cams around the whole house and personal security?”
“cameras on the outside and hell no. you don't want some random guys watching after me do you?”
you can see the gears turning in rafes head as he frowns. “yeah, you're right. no men.”
“so you'll go?” you smile. rafe closes his eyes for a brief moment before nodding.
“yay!” you squeal. you're not excited to be left alone, and you love being around your husband more than anything, but the work trip is a big deal, and you know he'll be kicking himself if he misses out on such a good opportunity.
--
“rafey?” you call, eyes sweeping across the living room as you enter your shared home, a head full of fresh highlights.
“hubby?” you call out, continuing deeper into the house until you see movement through the glass door leading towards the backyard, but it's not the typical roll of the ocean against the shore.
“rafe?” you question as you open the door. you expected to find him in his office, where he was before you left for the beauty salon.
rafe smiles, waiting for your eyes to look down, and when you finally see what is sitting at rafes feet, you let out a gasp.
“oh my gosh!” you squeal. 
“wifey, meet max. our new australian shepherd.” rafe gives a command with his hand, that has max running towards you.
you sink to your knees as the young dog excitedly greets you, licking at your hands as you pet him.
“hi maxey.” you coo at the dog, you're guessing around two years old, with max being full size but still having some young features.
“rafe, you didn't tell me you were getting us a dog!” you stand up, max following close behind as you rush to give your husband a hug.
“i have a confession.” rafe says, his hands looped around your waist. you frown, worried that max was just a foster and you'd have to give him back, or that something went wrong with the adoption. you often talked about getting pets before getting married, but wanted to wait a little bit, and then time just slipped away and before you knew it, you were over a year into your marriage. 
“what?” you whine out.
“ive been working with a trainer behind your back. i wanted to make sure max was ready before we chose him for sure. he knows commands, me, your scent, our house. everything. he knows his primary responsibility is to protect you and our property.”
“oh my gosh!” you slap rafe in the chest, surprised that he was able to keep such a secret from you. “how could you do all that without telling me?” you laugh, not angry, but surprised that he was able to orchestrate everything.
you don't wait for rafe to explain how he was able to find so much time, stepping out of his hold to kneel down and continue petting max.
“we have some more training sessions so he can learn with you as well.” rafe further explains, also leaning down to pet max behind the ears as he pants excitedly at his new owners.
--
“what is it maxy?” you ask as he lifts his head up, looking around the living room. “you miss your daddy?”
you sigh as max lets out a sad sounding huff, petting your hand over his head, scratching at his neck which you know is his favorite. rafe has been gone on his business trip for a month now, with only a week and a half left until he returns home.
max suddenly jumps off the couch, eyes on the backyard. he lets out a bark, claws clicking on the hardwood floor as he moves to the glass door. he lets out another bark, making you stand.
“what is it boy?” you ask, looking out the window.
max lets out another bark, this one the familiar territorial bark that he’s practiced in his training with you and rafe. you know the only reason that rafe feels safe enough leaving you home is that max is a great guard dog.
you get closer to the window, squinting your eyes to try and see in the darkness when you sudden jump back with a scream as a squirrel runs across your patio, causing max to bark and run along the glass door until it scatters into the yard.
“holy shit, maxy, you scared the shit out of me.” you press your hand to your chest before kneeling down, scratching behind his ears. “it was just a squirrel.” you reassure him with a pat.
your heart rate is just starting to calm down from the fright when you hear the front door open. max instantly takes off with you following after him, letting out a sigh of relief when you see rafe standing in the foyer.
“baby.” he sighs happily, setting his suitcase down as you run into his arms, pressing your lips together. “i missed you so much.”
“i missed you too, what are you doing home though?” you ask, giving him another kiss before he can answer.
“they didn’t need me for the rest of the week, decided to get home to my lady.” max barks, making rafe lean down to pet him, still holding you up. “and my good boy too, of course.”
“so happy to have you home.” you nuzzle your nose into rafes neck, inhaling the familiar scent that you missed so much. 
“happy to be back with you, wifey.” rafe says, carrying you further into the house.
“oh, and you will be very happy to know maxy did a great job protecting me while you were gone.” you tell rafe. it mostly involved max barking in warning at any delivery guy or car turning around in your driveway, but his presence did help making you feel safer and less loney.
“hopefully not too good.” rafe huffs as he looks at your pet. “can’t have him replacing me now.”
you giggle, surprised rafe can manage to be jealous of your dog. “never.” you swear, pressing another kiss to his lips.
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donatellawritings · 2 months
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would rafe ever actually hurt the reader or does he always say empty promises when he’s upset? would you write that? love your work xx
ugh so basically, this is the first and only time that rafe and sweetheart actually break up :(
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there was only one instance where rafe had hurt you — and it was one of, if not, the only regret that will continue to haunt him, whenever you shed even a single tear. it was pretty early on in your relationship, he was still struggling to navigate how to handle someone as pure as you, while you were still finding your footing when it came to having such a volatile lover in rafe cameron. you’d been warned by your cousin, kiara — she was firm in maintaining her stance on being against you and rafe being in a relationship … you were her family, you had a heart of genuine gold, while rafe only displayed the facade of being a blood and money hungry man with incessant skeletons in his closet.
“don’t fuckin’ walk away from me, when i’m talkin’ to you,” rafe shouted, hot on your trail as you tearfully made your way into your shared bedroom. mascara-stained tears painted your once blushed cheeks with dark and watery streaks, your lip poked out in a wobbly pout as you turned to face your angered boyfriend, “of course, the baby is fuckin’ crying — i should be the one that’s fuckin’ crying after the way you walked around like a dumb slut,” he scoffed, completely unfazed by your genuine tears of sorrowful frustration. now focusing your gaze at your kitten-heel clad feet, your shoulders slumped as a choked out sob sipped from between your swollen lips.
rafe was completely coked-out, blaming his over-indulgence on the fact that it had been months since he’d been able to enjoy a night out. his usually cold, yet enticing bright blue glaze was taken over by blown pupils and bloodshot eyes that stared at you with nothing, but disdain, “y’fuckin’ look at me when i’m talking to you,” he spoke lowly, a squeaky yelp coming out of you as he gripped your jaw, forcing your head up to make direct eye contact with him. your hand gently held onto his wrist, fat tears cascading down your waterline as rafe painfully pinched your cheeks together, “i want you to get the fuck out of my house — y’wanna fuckin’ talk to other guys while m’making us money? then fucking leave,” he spat through gritted teeth, pushing your face away as you let out a throaty cry.
that was far from the case — rafe had simply caught you making conversation with some random kook who’d failed to take the hint that not only you were uninterested, but you were rafe’s girl. but, rafe was too far gone to see anything aside from what his intoxicated mind wrongfully conjured up.
with a heaving chest, you let out a cry as you reached to grab rafe’s arm, “no, papi, i don’t want to go — please ju-just listen to me,” the second your hand touched rafe’s flexed arm, your head whipped to the side as rafe’s ring-clad hand slapped you right across your pretty face. your cheek pulsed with an aching sting as you blinked, your swollen lips parted in disbelief.
the sharp sound of rafe’s hand connecting with your face instantly caused your boyfriend to sober up, just enough for his eyes to widen in realization as he immediately approached you, “fuck, baby i didn’t mean to fuckin’—” he began, reaching an arm out to pull you into his chest, his heart sinking to his stomach as you backed away from him, bone-chilling cries leaving your mouth as you made a run for the bedroom door. “no-no, mama, please just fuckin’ listen!” he shouted, his arms successfully wrapping around you from behind as he pulled you flush against his tense chest.
“i fucking hate you, let me go!” you screamed, kicking your heeled feet as rafe tightened his hold on you, your eyes burning with reddening tears as you let out a choked sob. your cheek still pulsed as you began to sink to the floor, rafe lowering himself with his arms secured around you as you weakly clawed at his strained forearms, “please, i just want to go home,” you squeaked out, rafe’s eyes glazing over — this was supposed to be your home. you’d given up on kicking at the floor and scratching rafe’s arms, your heaving cries making you a bit sleepy as rafe wordlessly held you against him, waiting until you were calm, before he’d speak again.
tears silently rolled down rafe’s structured face as he hopelessly clung to you. you had every right to hate him and he accepted that, but the possibility of you leaving him for good was really starting to bite at him. with a shaky sigh, rafe leaned his forehead against your shoulder, “baby, pl-please let’s just, let’s just go to sleep,” he whispered, his voice wobbly as he swallowed down a pathetic cry. you remained quiet as you stared at the hardwood floor that had been scuffed by your heels, your doe eyes puffy and red from all of the crying you’d done, your eyelids heavy. “m’so fuckin’ sorry,” rafe cried, feverishly pressing his lips into the back of your shoulder, over and over again, his wet eyelashes now prominent against your exposed skin.
you were completely numb, once rafe slowly rose to his feet, keeping you in his arms as he carefully removed your clothes, replacing them with one of his t-shirts, tears rolling down his face as you remained limp, your eyes blank of any recognizable emotion as you refused to look directly into his eyes. you didn’t even move when rafe softly cradled the back of your head, pressing a kiss into your forehead as you simply blinked, your wispy lashes clumped together from your warm tears. carefully leading you to your shared bed, rafe remained fully clothed in his button-up and slacks, silently thankful that you were able to fall asleep with your bruised cheek finding comfort against his cheek. he couldn’t find it in himself to sleep, once he was completely sober and of a sound mind, rafe knew that he’d completely fucked up.
this wasn’t supposed to happen, not with you. he was supposed to be different, he was supposed to be a man of dignity, yet here he was slipping into his old ways.
so, rafe was awake when you finally woke up, his heart beating just a bit quicker as you raised your head from his chest, your cheekbone a light reddish-purple shade. it wasn’t until your exhausted and strained eyes met his, that rafe wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and beg you for your forgiveness. but, he knew he’d be selfish to expect you to forgive him, only mere hours since he’d put his hands on you. biting back tears, rafe stood from the bed, “i want to take you somewhere, baby — y’don’t have to change your clothes, just come with me to the car, yeah?” rafe held out his hand, a slight warmth fluttering in his chest as you lightly held onto his hand with a small nod.
౨ৎ
rafe was thankful that you’d fallen asleep, about five minutes into the drive. he’d been wracking over his mistake over and over again, to the point where he couldn’t even bring himself to turn the car around and drive back home with you. slowly bringing the car to a stop, rafe gently parked the car, running a hand over his shaven face with a low and shaky sigh. his tired eyes looked over your peaceful state, your puffy lips slight parted as you fell into a deep sleep. rafe’s heart ached as he gently laid a hand on your thigh, lightly nudging you out of your sleep, a sad and knowing smile tugging on his lips as you opened your eyes.
“rafe, why are we here?” you asked, your voice raspy and hoarse as your eyes glazed.
rafe had driven you home.
unbuckling his seatbelt, rafe shifted to give you his full attention, his hand bringing yours to his lips as you looked at him with tearful eyes, “i want you to listen to me, a’ight? i need to be a better man for you,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, before swallowing thickly as you held in a cry, “m’gonna get my shit together, princess—” he continued, watching as you furiously shook your head. you were stubborn, but this was the one time where he needed you to listen to him.
“no, i wanna be with you — i don’t hate you, i—” you panicked, tears streaming down your face as you softly pulled your hand away from rafe’s, using both of your small hands to cover your face.
“m’gonna come and get you when i get better, okay mama? but right now, you need to go home, a’ight?” he sighed, keeping his eyes focused on the steering wheel. if he even looked at you for a second, he knew that he’d be back on the road, with you in the passenger seat, riding off into the sunset.
sniffling back a sob, you glanced at your boyfriend through cloudy eyes, “you’re breaking my heart, papi,” you cried, your puffy lips now dry as you licked over them. you wanted so bad to crawl into his lap and fall asleep, forget this all happened. unfortunately, rafe had already made up his mind.
“baby, please go home, this isn’t easy for me,” rafe spoke sternly, maintaining his gaze on the steering wheel, tears burning at his waterline as you nodded weakly, before stepping out of the car, gently closing the passenger door as you walked towards your house.
neither you nor rafe had the strength to look at each other as you made your way into your house, leaving rafe a tearful mess as he aimlessly made his way back on the road. every few minutes, he’d glance at the passenger seat, hoping that you’d magically appear next to him and be your usually smiley self, but he knew that couldn’t happen, not for a while.
rafe meant it when he said that he’d come get you, once he got better and he looked to make good on that promise. you were his sweet girl and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself, if he managed to lose you for good. he just hoped that you’d still love him, when he returned.
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