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#again. you do not have to answer all of this or even any
a-b-riddle · 3 days
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Part Six
Can't stop thinking about reader finally giving the boys a taste of their own medicine. And hurting my own feelings in the process of it all. I wanted to make this a baddie reader chapter, but its just a saddie reader chapter. I played Down Bad by T.S on repeat while writing this. Y'all need to thank @blueladys-world for being my ventor for this part.
None of them came the next day to pick up the box of everything you had collected. By everything, quite literally everything. Birthday cards and gifts. Keepsakes from your time together they had given you. Even going as far as returning lingerie they had given you. You didn't want any trace of them in your home anymore. You were gonna have to work hard in rebuilding it to be your safe space once again.
You were surprised that someone from the expo had DM'd you. Renée was an author who had tried to stop by to your stand, but got too caught up in the day. She was in London, working on her next series installment and wanted to pick your brain. Writer to writer.
The two of you agreed on a time. She had mentioned wanting to try this restaurant the last time she visited and you already knew you would be putting that meal on a credit card. It was a bit of splurge, but after the past week you deserved it. You could even wear that sexy black number that had been collecting dust in your closet.
By the time you were done getting ready and squeezing into your dress, you looked more ready for a date than dinner with a colleague.
A colleague. You had a colleague!!!
The knock on the door pulled you from your girlish glee. You didn't need to guess who it was. Your friends knew to text you before they came over and Renée had agreed just to meet you at the restaurant.
It was one of them.
You didn't even t bother looking through your peephole before you opened the door to find Johnny standing there with a floral arrangement of your favorite flowers.
Johnny began to speak, afraid you were going to shut him down immediately no less. But no words came out. His eyes traveled up and down your body, taking you in.
A vision.
You wanted to snap at him that your eyes weren't located on your hips. But damn if it didn’t feel empowering seeing Johnny’s gaze gloss over.
"Fuck me." He swore, gathering his bearings before realizing you were dressed. In a sexy black dress and heels and makeup and oh, fuck you were going out. "Where are you going?"
"First off, none of your business," you said holding a finger up. "And secondly, what are you doing here?"
"Listen," "Bon-"
"The box is right there." You said pointing to a large cardboard box on the floor. "That's everything."
"If you just let me make it-"
"Up to me?" You cut him off again. "I'm over it. Really."
"Just give me a chance."
"Either you haven't spoken to the other two to know I am well and truly done with this situationship, or you’re hoping some half-ass apology and flowers will let you get a last fuck in and the skedaddle. So hopefully if it was latter, hopefully the former answered that for ya.”
So if that's all you came here for, I've got to get going. My reservation is at seven and it's rude to keep a friend waiting."
"It's been a week and you're already going on a date?" He accused.
"Who said anything about a date?" You didn't outright say it wasn't. Where would be the fun in that? “It's just dinner with a colleague.” You didn’t want to lie. It wasn’t a date. But you didn’t need to say it was a woman. “Hardly a date.”
“Look at the sight of ye!" He said, taking the opportunity to take a quick look at how deliciously your ass filled that dress. “A fookin’ dinner with a colleague. Like one of us would show up to a briefing like that.” You opened your compact. Not needed in the age of cellphones but loving the feminine touch.
There was something so... seductive about using a compact mirror to apply your lipstick.
“Kyle does have the legs for this dress.” You said, applying that lipstick he loves. That same shade that looked beautiful on your lips. The same lipstick you would mark all over Johnny’s body. “Believe what you want. Not my problem anymore.”
You put your compact back in your purse along with the lipstick in case you needed to reapply it after dinner.
Johnny's eyes zeroed in on your lips before his eyes met yours. That's when you felt it again. That undeniably spark of chemistry that you had with him. With all of them. That feeling that sucked the very breath from your lungs and for a moment all you could see was the man in front of you.
"Bonnie," he said placing his hands on your neck. His thumbs stroking your cheeks softly. "Just one more chance." He begged, his voice breaking. "I'm a fucking git, but I won't let you go again. I won't leave." You knew that when it came to promises, Johnny had proven that even if he didn't mean to break them, he had forgotten he made them in the first place.
But in that moment you didn't care. Even after everything, Meredith was right. You had loved them. Everything else had ended so shitty. John had blamed you. Kyle had only shown up until it was too late. And Simon. The last time you would ever hear his voice was after he said such cruel things to you.
No.
If you were done with Johnny, you won't let the last time he fucked you being a quick, rough fuck doggystyle before leaving you naked and alone in your bed.
No. The last time with Johnny needed to be good. It might make it harder to finally leave, but you needed this. You needed to know that he could still make love to you and not just fuck you like an animal in heat.
"Johnny?" You asked. Your mouth dangerously close to his. "I don't want you to fuck me."
"I don't have to," he said, starting to take a step back to give you some space before your hands reached his. Holding him in place.
He can't let you go. You couldn't let him go. Not yet. Just one more. You needed just one more time to get him out of your system. The closure you needed.
"Make love to me." You begged, your eyes pleading. "I need to know that I wasn't just something you wanted to fuck." You don't move as his eyes search yours, looking for reassurance. When you nod, his mouth softly touches your own.
His hands travel along your body, but never fully leave you. Sliding your neck to your back. Pulling your body closer to his. A hand placed on your hip so tightly he's afraid you might disappear.
There's no rush, no haste in his touch. His mouth not eager to devour you.
He's slow. With his hands, his tongue. Even when he picks you up and walks to your bedroom with your legs around his waist.
He doesn't throw you on the bed.
Not this time.
He lays you down. His body laying on top of yours. His hand skimming along your bare thighs, but not daring to travel any higher.
But damn you needed him. You wanted love making, but if he didn't get inside you soon, you weren't sure you could let him go after this. You weren't sure you would be able to leave.
"Johnny," you whimpered, pulling away from his mouth. "Please." You took his hand, putting it between your thigh. Aching for any friction.
He obeyed without hesitation. If you told him to get on his bark, he would in that moment. Anything to make you happy. Anything to keep you.
"Got to get you out of this dress first." He resting on his knees before he began to slide the black satin from your thighs to your stomach. You maneuvered, helping him undress you leaving you in nothing.
"I thought you liked the dress." You couldn't help, but tease. Your hand finding its home on the back of his neck, pulling you to him once more.
In a tone lacking any note of humor and in all seriousness, he looked at you. Really looking at you. Taking in how your smile reached your beautiful eyes before he said, "I want you bare to me when I take you."
You felt your stomach flutter at his words before he began to take off his clothes.
He joined you again. His body relaxing when they got between your legs again. His mouth traveled from your exposed neck to your nipples. Sucking and flicking them with his tongue until your back arched. Pressing harder into his mouth.
Your hands tangled in his soft brown hair before you boldly guided him to your already dripping core. He slid down your body before his hands began to push your knees apart until you were fully expose to him.
With your knees bent, Johnny settled on his stomach, placing soft kisses on your soft inner thighs. God, did he love seeing you squirm. He smiled at your tortured expression before looking down at your sex. "There she is." He said before placing a kiss on your pussy.
It wasn't sloppy. He wasn't diving in and licking at your center like so many times before. He was kissing it just as tenderly as he kissed your mouth. Slowly building it deeper and deeper. Adding tongue. Breaking away to readjust his head.
The delicious ache between your thighs began to become to unbearable. "Need you inside me." You panted. "Johnny-"
"Shhh." He soothed. "Got to warm you up first , Bonnie." He said before slipping his finger inside of you. One was all it took before your head settled against the pillows again. When your body relaxed, he added another. He would need to add three to make sure you were good and ready.
His digits stroked that spongy spot inside of you that made your toes curl. "You're barely fitting around my fingers." Johnny was a good 6 inches in length, but the girth is what always did you in. It hurt to take anything past his head into your mouth. If you fucked him without any preparation, especially after a week of no sex, he would tear you into too.
His tongue caressed your clit, your eyes squeezing shut as you felt your first orgasm creeping up on you.
"Johnny." You moaned, your fingers running through his soft brown hair.
"Give it to me, beauty." He panted. "Come on my face. Squeeze my fingers, Lass." He begged before his mouth went back to you.
It was like lightning. Your body now sensitive after being forsaken for so long. Your vision blurred and before you could process it, Johnny was sitting on his haunches between your legs, stroking his cock.
You could only nod, dazed and barely keeping a grip onto the reality of what this was.
The end.
He leaned forward, his cock nestling against you. You knew this was going to be nothing compared to his fingers. "Tell me if I need to stop."
You smiled, mockingly. Reminding him, "Not our first time together, Johnny." just our last.
"You were wrapped tight around my fingers." He gave a half smile before kissing your forehead. The gesture like a knife twisting in your heart. "I just don't want to hurt you."
"I'm ready." You brought your legs around his waist again. Pulling him to you, your arms wrapping around his neck as your mouths meet.
He presses into you. The head of his cock sliding inside just one or two inches. You body contracting around him in a small spasm. He swallows your moan and lets you adjust. He pulls away before looking down where the two of you meet.
"I could die like this, Lass." He said, his breath coming out unsteady as he tries his best to control himself. So close to just burying himself inside of you to the fucking hilt. "Seeing you like this is this first thing I want to see when I make it to the other side." You let out a choked cry as he pushes deeper inside you. Another inch. And another. And another until you're taking all of him.
He slurs something that sound like "fuck", but you are in too much of a daze to care. You arch into him, trying to get closer.
His thrusts are slow and deep. His pubic bone brushing against your clit making you whine and squirm. Begging for more.
You're not sure how long he had fucked you like that.
You needed it to stop.
You couldn't handle it. The softness. His words.
I could die like this, Lass.
Your lip quivered as you told him you wanted to be on top. You needed a moment. A chance to create a bit of space before he shattered your world yet again.
He pulled out. His absence already making you ache for him again before he settled beside you.
You squatted above his cock. Your feet flat against the mattress as you grabbed his hardness and slipping it inside of you. The sound you let out was pornographic. A high pitched, soft moan slipping from your lips as he buried himself inside of you again.
You placed you hands on his chest. Using the leverage to ride him. Your arms serving as barrier for you to get your bearings.
You used his body just as he had used yours. Throwing your head back, you moved faster and faster. Readjusting so your hands went from his chest to his stomach, giving him a better view of your connecting bodies.
His hand slips between the two of you, thumb pressing against your clit, and you tighten even more around. A needy whimper coming out of your throat. The sound mixing in with the sounds of his labored breathing and slapping skin as he begins to fuck up into you.
Even though he had been doing all the work for the last several minutes, you felt the tension start to creep into your calf.
"Fuck fuck fuck." You screech, barely able to hold yourself up any longer. "Ow." You hissed as the cramp took hold.
"Leg cramp?" He asked, not even faltering in his thrusts. You pathetically nod before he takes it upon himself to flip you on your back again.
"I'm going to do this every chance I can." He promises, pressing a searing kiss onto your exposed neck. "Any chance you'll give me." You can't take it. His words, his mouth, his fucking cock. It's too much. "I'm going to show you how much I want you. How much I want to fucking worship ye. Do anything to make you feel good. Not going to leave you again like that, Bonnie."
You reach for him again, pull him into a searing kiss just to shut him up. You need him to shut up. You couldn't take his false promises. You wouldn't survive it. Couldn't.
"Shit." His thrusts quicken, his thumb returning to your swollen bud. Flicking it in a way he had crafted into an art. He buries his face into your neck and you know he's getting close.
You weren't too far behind.
He didn't want to come, not yet, but this was fully out of his control. It was pathetic. A week without sex and you had him nearly coming in the first ten minutes.
But that's what you want. To see him lost in the idea that you would stay.
"Johnny." You groan out. "Please. Cum inside me."
He draws fast, beautiful circles around your clit that immediately push you over the edge. You shut your eyes tight, squeezing him like a vice as you come in strong waves, continuing to push inside you.
in out in out in out.
Deliciously clenching around him tighter and tighter until he can't take it anymore.
"Fuck," he says again, and you see it in his face, and you see it in his face, the second it's all over for him. You want to sear the image in your head. Keep it there forever. Knowing you'll never see it again. The way those enchanting blue eyes squint nearly shut before closing in complete ecstacy.
His mouth would open. A moan caught in his throat that he isn't ready to let go.
His hand closes around your hip, holding you to him while he presses as far as he can go, and it's only then do you feel his cock twitch in quick, jerky movements. He moans out your name before taking your mouth into a searing kiss.
"I fucking love you." He says. "So fucking much."
He was still under the blanket when you returned from the bathroom. You picked up your clothes up from the floor. Looking at the clock realizing you had less than five minutes to get out the door before you would be late for dinner.
"What are you doing?" he asked. You couldn't look at him. Hearing the panic in his voice almost made you stop. Tell him it really was just dinner with a colleague. A woman. That you would be back. Beg him to wait until you came home.
"I can't cancel on the dinner." You said slipping your feet into your heels. "This was a mistake."
You weren't sure why you said it. You weren't sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself. If you wanted to hurt him or make him think you regretted it when you would truthfully do it again. You would do it again and again. You would never stop.
Like Johnny, you could have died in that moment, but for a completely different. Where he would be content, you would be saved from the pain. The pain currently coursing throughout your very soul.
"Lock the door behind you." You say as you practically sprint out the bedroom. Only slowing in your stride to snatch your purse off the kitchen counter before running out. The door slamming behind you.
The restaurant was nicer than you expected. The wine alone was the price of an entree. You didn't seem to be phased at all and were relieved when Renée insisted on picking up the bill.
Your dinner had been delicious and the conversation even better. Renée wrote fantasy romance and wanted to pick your brain about a Why Choose. You had nearly spent out the over priced wine you weren't even really enjoying. Oh the irony.
"It's like all the rage now, but it's hard to make more than one appealing as the love interest. You should have seen the Goodreads comments on my last book. So many people bitched about my FMC not ending up with a character who was quite literally her adopted brother."
"So," you took a breath trying to find the words. "I'm going to be honest. I only read your latest book and I loved Luka. But I can't compare him to other MMCs you've written about so I don't know if they are similar or different. But what I can say is that I'm seeing like this trend of MMCs where they are all this dark-haired, brooding or mysterious character who dislikes mostly everyone and is only soft for either a select few or only the FMC."
"I think if you are going to write a Why Choose you need to think of guys you wouldn't mind falling in love with." You couldn't help, but think of what drew you to your boys. "One could be the leader. Someone who isn't afraid to have his neck on the line. To make sure everyone else is taken care of and being strong enough to handle the stress of that. He would be big on words of affirmation. Lifting the FMC up. For me, it would be someone that I know will take care of business. He's confident in his decision. That confidence would extend to me." You clear your throat. "If I was the FMC, that is."
"Okay." She nodded, pulling out a pen and notepad. "You don't mind if I-"
"I don't write about polygamy." Crossed that bridge. Currently trying to burn it. "So feel free."
"Another could be the one who it's so easy to fall in love with their charm. The one who falls to his knees. Wanting to worship every inch of her. The one who makes her laugh. That one to make her forget about the sadness that creeps into her bones. The one to hold her whenever he could. He's about quality time and physical touch."
"So different love languages." She said, her pen quickly scribbling.
"Yeah." You said, leaning forward. "Then there is the gift giver." Your mind went to Gaz. Most of the gifts and trinkets in the box sitting by your door had came from him. He had gotten you new earbuds when yours broke. When you were being harassed at your gym, he had bought you and him a membership at a different one. "The one who would give her the world if she asked for it. If you're going with a high fantasy then maybe the one to take note of something at a market that the FMC had been eyeing and he bought it for her. Just someone who takes notice like that."
"So acts of service would fall with all of them then you think?"
No. Simon had been the one who probably spent the least amount of money on you. He didn't praise you like John. He didn't even try to attach himself at your hip like Johnny.
But if you needed something fixed, he would come fix it himself. He'd be damned letting a strange man into your apartment. And alone? Fucking forget about it. The one who hated any sort of cardio activity outside of fucking you, but didn't hesitate in attempting to keep up with you when you wanted to go on a run and get some fresh air. If you needed something done, he didn't pay someone else to do it. He did it. If you wanted to do something, he made it happen. He made you safe.
You couldn't bring yourself to say explain it. Your eyes begin to itch. Warning you to think of something else.
So instead you just told her yeah. That they would all commit acts of service. And even in your hypothetical explanation of characters that haven't even been written yet, Simon was still the ghost among them.
"Lucky fucking girl." Renée said setting down her pen.
"Yeah." You said, downing the rest of your wine.
You walked home. The cool crisp wind feeling like it was whipping your exposed skin. It was soothing as the ghost of Johnny's touch still seemed to burn you.
You had hoped that you would get some closure, but you just felt hollow. You came twice and still manage to leave unsatisfied. Johnny wasn't malicious... he was Johnny. He wasn't like the others. Simon would never apologize and John and Kyle wouldn't try to keep reaching out after you told them know once.
Johnny couldn't stand you being mad at him. He never could. He would beg and beg for your forgiveness. You didn't regret fucking him one last time. He needed to know that you were well and truly done. There was no going back from this.
"Hey, Love!" You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice coming from a source you couldn't see. You perked up, quickly scanning the dimly lit street before your eyes settled on a cluster of shadows just across the street. "Yeah." The slurring voice said again. "Talking to you gorgeous!"
You resumed your trek home. Now picking up your pace. "Don't be like that! Where ya off to?" The voice followed you. You kept your gaze straight. You were three minutes away. Three minutes and you would be at your building.
Three minutes.
Three minutes.
"What's the rush?" Another voice joined the cacophony. "Just want to have a chat."
You turned. They were maybe twenty feet away. You kept your eyes glued to them as your started to make a run for it.
You had made it about ten feet before your body collided with someone. Firm hands gripped your upper arms, steading you as you threatened to fall back.
You sucked in a breath of air, ready to scream when you looked up. It was too dark to make out the man's facial features. He was tall. His head eclipsing the street lamp just behind him. You shook beneath his hands. The voices behind you now silent.
"Keep walking." You didn't need to see his face. You knew that deep timber voice anywhere. He released you from his grip before letting you pass him.
"Just wanted to have a chat." You heard one of them try to reason. "No harm done."
"No harm done yet." Was the last thing you heard Simon say before you broke out into a full fledged run.
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kenntolog · 3 days
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Oh oh! I want to tag in!! I’m not entirely sure if this is something you’re comfortable with, but since cool bf Sukuna loser gf reader takes place in university, I think I’d be super cool seeing sukuna get wasted and being so soft to reader and just loving her while she’s all flustered and maybe on the verge of tears cause she feels so loved (not that she didn’t before, but sukuna is like, being extra about it you know?), thought it be cute!!
𝝑𝝔 an: hey sweet anon!! this is indeed very cute and charming so i hope you enjoy my interpretation!! read more ab cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here! wc: throwing up, drinking.
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cool boyfriend sukuna is so wasted he loses his filter completely, his affectionate nature that was sealed deep inside of him, threatening to break out only for his loser girlfriend, finally free of it’s restraints.
“you’re always so good t’me, baby,” he mumbles, face snug in the juncture between your neck and shoulder, and in any other setting in would’ve been very very sweet, but not when he’s laying on top of you by the entrance of your place, having lost his balance when trying to get out of his shoes.
“‘kunaa~ d’you wanna maybe get up?” you whine, trying to move him off.
“i’ll stay where i want,” he lifts his head up, a frown appearing on his face before he visibly stiffens. you eye him warily before you realise that he’s probably going to throw up and it’s gonna be all over you if he doesn’t move.
thankfully, sukuna has mercy and quickly moves away from you, standing up and running to the bathroom, and soon enough you hear him groaning in pain and agony. you rub his back through it all, cringing at the way he still manages to curse in between choking on his own vomit, and lift him up making him drink some water and get ready to wash his teeth.
he’s still very much drunk, now uncharacteristically quiet as he stares at you through the mirror while brush his teeth carefully. he’s probably capable of doing it himself, you think, but you don’t think he should let go of the sink’s edge, still swaying a bit from side to side.
since you’re focused on brushing his teeth so you don’t notice his half-lidded gaze on you until you’re done, instructing him to spit out the excess toothpaste.
“let’s get you to bed, ‘kuna,” you mumble, shy under his intense gaze, and tug him by his arm gently, leading him out of the bathroom.
sukuna falls on the bed like a sack of potatoes, pulling you down along with himself as he sighs in delight.
“g’night, baby.” he mutters, holding you close to his chest, but you chuckle nervously, trying to get out of his hold instead since you still had to change and do your routine before sleep. “where the hell are you goin’?”
“i gotta change and wash—”
“no, i can’t sleep without you, baby,” he pouts and you can barely keep your face intact to not give away your bewilderment because this is a revelation for you. his arms tighten around you a little as he glares at you sleepily.
“it’ll take just a couple of minutes, ‘kuna,” you attempt to negotiate once again. he stares at you for a few seconds before groaning and sitting up.
“‘m comin’ with you.”
you sigh, suppressing your growing smile, but don’t resist and let him tug you both into your bathroom.
———————
“you don’t even have to do all this shit,” sukuna complains quietly now that he’s settled: head heavy on your shoulder with arms wrapped around your middle as he blinks slowly and yawns occasionally.
you don’t give him an answer, busy with the last step of your routine, before you feel him breathing you in slightly, lips nipping on the skin of your neck.
“you’re the prettiest girl in the world for me,” he mutters simply, kissing your jaw and cheek as his hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. you feel your face heat up when his eyes lock with yours through the mirror, your flustered state now more visible. “the best girl in the world.”
“s’kuna,” you mumble, looking down at your hands so that he doesn’t see your cheeks dusting with the embarrassing pink.
he ignores you, fingers clasping around yours as he pulls you out of the bathroom and to your bed. once again, sukuna drags you into the bed with himself, covering you both with your blanket.
“my girl,” he sighs with a sleepy grin and cups your face with both hands, leaning in to place a kiss on your nose and lips. “took care of me so well t’night.”
you almost whine in embarrassment, hiding your face in his chest so sukuna doesn’t see the way your bottom lip juts out and eyes get watery as you try your best to not sniffle so much. the amount of love you feel from him is so overwhelming you start feeling stupid for the way you don’t know whether to laugh in delight or cry from the softness.
“love you so much.”
“love you too, ‘kuna.”
+ bonus!
“were you cryin’ into my chest?”
“n-no, why’d you say that?”
“you totally were, loser.”
“sukuna!”
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dante-mightdie · 2 days
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Not enough suffering. I need to cry.
The boys just continue to pretend that reader no longer exists. Becoming more of a fly on the wall then a roommate they occasionally fuck.
Soon they just leave you out of everything, dinner? There was not even leftovers for reader, no scrapes left either.
Reader won't leave because they will soon come back around tho right? >:')
god I just love PAIN
c/w: neglect, angst, no happy ending in this one, brief mentions of sex
it becomes a very depressing and very predictable pattern from them. wake up, avoid you then go to sleep. even when they speak to you, they’re never saying much. normally just a reminder that you left dishes in the sink or something mundane
you held out hope for the first few days, especially when simon came slinking over to you one night in the kitchen, bending you over the counter and having his way with you. his rough hands and fast pace made your heart swell solely because you missed having one of them even touch you
but when he just buckled up his trousers and left without a word, you realise you’re still on time out
sometimes you’re asleep before they get home, locked up in the spare room as you sniffle into your pillow. they don’t even come to check on you and you begin to wonder what conclusion they came to on your whereabouts. do they even know you’re at home? do they care?
every day of the month, you and the boys are supposed to set aside a night to go out for a date. seems your invite was lost in the post when you see them all dressed up, talking amongst themselves about the pub they’re going to
“can I come?” you ask, standing in the doorway and playing with your fingers nervously. the laughing and chattering stops instantly, all four heads turning to you as if they didn’t even know you were there. you know what the answer is going to be before any of them say anything
“you won’t like this place. it-“ john starts, and you know he’s about to list off some lazy excuse as to why you won’t like it. as if that was even the point. you don’t go on date nights with them for the actual drinks or decor. you go to spend time with them but they clearly didn’t want you there so you simply wouldn’t go
“whatever.” you mumble, rolling your eyes and turning to leave what was once your shared bedroom so they don’t see the tears in your eyes. you slam the door to the spare bedroom, throwing yourself onto the mattress and sobbing into the pillow
you hear a light tap on the door before it opens. you cease your crying almost instantly, keeping your back turned towards the door. your heart rate picks up and that sick familiar feeling of hope crawls its way back into your chest, “we weren’t saying you can’t come with us. come if you want just don’t make us wait around forever whilst you get ready.”
the sound of kyle’s voice fills the room but you can tell he doesn’t really want to be speaking to you, like simon or the captain told him to come do some damage control so you wouldn’t throw a strop about not being invited. you keep your back turned to him, nuzzling your head further into the pillow
“jus’ go without me.” you sniffle, “it’s not like you really want me there anyway.”
kyle sighs at your words and you hear your door softly click close and everyone’s feet shuffling downstairs before they go out the front door, leaving you alone again
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inkyray · 2 days
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your sick matt fic was so good!! can u make a part 2 sorta (or not) where hes finally recovered but now his gf gets sick and he has to take care of her?
a/n: got to writing immediately i fear
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content ahead/warnings: sick!reader x matt sturniolo, vomiting, fluff, not proof read lol, other shit idk
part 2 to this
TOLD U SO
A rush of utter heat wraps you whole, and you feel unconsciously frustrated as you twist and turn from out of Matt's grasp. Hoping for some sort of light and feathery breeze to hit your sleeping body.
You subconsciously begin whining in your sleep, the feeling of only hot and thick air doing nothing to cleanse your body, your nose stuffing itself from a simple sniff of air. You raise a few fingers to rub your still-closed eyes together, meeting directly with your burning sticky skin. Your unreasonably high body temperature sends a quick shock through your body, still rubbing your eyes.
"You all right, baby?" Matt shifted to his side, his voice low, gravelly, and husk. Without even considering your options, you immediately shake your head no. His large hands make their way to your forehead, and he feels himself getting upset. "You're burning hot, sweetheart."
If you were half asleep before, you were now just opening your eyes. An undeniable wave of physical exhaustion punching you in every bone of your body. "I told you, we shouldn't have kissed. You were too close to me the entire night, I knew you'd get sick too." He huffs, stressed out for you, his hands pressing the hair that stuck to your face due to accumulated sweat out of the way. You frown deep.
"You got me sick." You point out, your soft voice matching his with its roughness crackles, you feel your sore throat form almost immediately and you wince. "No, you're the one who kept wanting to kiss me and rub all up on me." He shrugged in defense and you can't argue with that.
"As long as I get to kiss you some more today."
He chuckles, able to get up from the spot on the bed and head for his bathroom. "You're unbelievable, kid."
Your eyes dart to the sound of the running bathroom sink and the gross sloth feeling of continuing to lay in this bed any longer. As soon as you were back to normal, you would be deep cleaning this room front to back. You stiffen, making up the mental courage to lift yourself out of the bed.
Lifting your head up first, a wave of utter wonkiness punches you in the face, your head feels like it is spinning in your mind. The migraine was forming now, but you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand, making it to the bathroom.
You mentally feel the strength of your legs and thighs even when still laying on the bed, and then you look at the ground. You huff a whine, your body too hot for your skin. "Matt." You call for him, he answers immediately with a "You okay, sweetheart?", the sound of foam and a toothbrush in his mouth.
"Help me make it to the bathroom." You murmur, softly peeling the blankets from off of you. Matt walks back in, and in seconds he scoops you up. With a hand under both your knees for support and a large hand on your back, he takes you to the bathroom as you yelp at the sudden action. You figured the soup you made him last night definitely helped.
"Feeling better, hm?" You mutter, holding onto his neck for better support. He turns his head to look at you, kissing your lips with a long peck before kissing your neck, you get a mild taste of toothpaste in your mouth, scrunching up your nose. "Enough, Matt. Or you'll get sick again." You warn as he places you to sit on the bathroom counter.
"Then it'll be a cute never-ending cycle of us getting really sick and kissing each other." He said it like he was fond of the idea, looking at you then himself at the mirror, going back to brushing his teeth.
"Not a good thing." You point out, turning your back to stare at your reflection. You looked bedridden, your hair a messy bunch and your skin sickly flushed. "You look gorgeous though, so that's a plus." He rinses out his mouth, bending down to the height of the sink as you take the opportunity to run your hands through his knotted hair, fixing it for him.
He stands back up again, turning to look at the shower before back at you. You raise a tired eyebrow. "You think I should try for a shower? I feel disgusting and I think I've recovered enough to take one." He looks for your opinion on his question and you offer him a lazy shrug. "You're an able adult with a mind of your own."
"Yeah, but, I need to know what you think." He stands in between your legs, resting his hands on both your thighs. "Whenever I do something without your approval, I always regret it." You can't help it, you kiss him again. "Take a shower." You pull away and he grins. "But make sure you dry your hair really well."
"I know, I know." He winks, taking off his shirt as you drop to your feet. The sudden weight against the floor is a lot for your feeble sick body, you use the counter to lean on for help, before your knees buckle and have you fall. "Careful!" Matt urges, his eyes widening and a quick hand holding you still by the waist. You offer a smile. "I'm okay."
You turn the sink on, splattering your face with cold water. The temperature difference being so ultimate, it has you squeeze your eyes shut and take it all in for a moment. Washing your face, you hear the shower faucet turn on and Matt enters it from beside you.
"Make sure the water is hot on your skin!" You yell over the clattering water from the shower, making sure he heard you. You were always bossing Matt around like a mother, being an older sister definitely taking a load onto your personality. You dry your face, going in to brush your teeth now, hearing Matt turn the faucet as steam begins to form around him.
"Not too hot, Matt."
"I'm not into the whole idea of accidental suicide, so don't worry about that." He says over the water.
"You can't die from that." You correct, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.
"God, even when you're sick."
You chuckle, giving Matt an opportunity to close his eyes under that hot water and let your laugh melt through his ears.
"I'm gonna take a piss." You announce, rinsing your mouth out and peeling your pants down to your thighs as you sit on the toilet.
"You better not fucking flush." He ordered, making sure you heard the warning in his voice. 
You wiped, getting back up and flushing, darting out of the bathroom. You laugh at the sound of Matt screaming your name due to the sudden temperature change of water until sudden dizziness takes over your sight and mind. For a full second, your vision blurry so bad you genuinely couldn't see anything as your head spins in circles like a basketball.
"Fuck." You gasp, dropping yourself onto the unmade bed you and Matt slept in, trying to get your mind back together.
-
Not even a whole 10 minutes pass and Matt was out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel as he searched for you, seeing you dead asleep on his bed. Just then realization dawns upon him that today he'll need to look after you, the same you had. Any feeling of playful irritation left him and he was now changing into his clothes, his blue eyes on you as he tried to figure out how you took care of him so he could repeat that action.
Medicine.. Soup. Soup. He wondered if there was any left. Finishing putting his clothes on, he shuts the door quietly behind him, not wanting to wake you up. The environment around him definitely made it obvious that Chris and Nick were awake, seeing them seated in the kitchen.
"Matt!" Chris happily calls, seeing him much better than yesterday. He smiles, taking a seat at the table as he watches Nick cook up breakfast.  "Are you feeling any better?" Nick asks, putting sausage on a plate. "Yeah, all thanks to her," Matt points to the direction of his room where you're sleeping. "But at what cost." He sighed, feeling the guilt of getting you sick.
"What? She got sick too?" Chris wonders and Nick frowns. "Aw fuck."
"Yeah. She worked so hard yesterday, too. I feel so bad." Matt sighs, grabbing onto the fork Nick handed him and taking a quick bite from the breakfast. It wasn't your cooking, the flavor dull in his mouth as he chewed it down. The sound of murmured worries erupt from his brothers. "Whatever, is there any of the soup she made left?"
Chris almost jumps at the mention of the soup. "Dude, did you try it? It was so fucking good."
"Yeah. She made it for me. Is there any of it left?" Matt repeats himself, Nick shakes his head. "Nah, fucking Chris over here finished it all." Matt turns to glare at his brother.
"What?"
"You don't even like soup."
"Your girlfriend's soup doesn't count though, you've seen the way she cooks."
He was right, Matt couldn't argue with that.
-
Almost the entire day had passed and you had practically nothing in your stomach. Matt had tried anything, but your feverish appetite kept you from swallowing anything down. You claimed the food was either under seasoned, not cooked well enough, too cold, and more. Matt had gone out with Nick to the store to buy you pre-cooked meals, but the thing with you, you can smell if something isn't homemade from a mile away.
He holds the spoon of rice to your mouth, but you twist your head the other way, refusing to eat it. "Please, baby, come on." He begs, "You need to eat, you have to have food in your system so you could take the medicine."
You huff, shuffling under his blankets, looking for something. "I'll just take the medicine now."
He clicks his tongue, signifying no. "Nope, you will eat this whether you like it or not." He holds your hands down to shove the spoon in your mouth, but your head dodges it immediately, turning the other way. He groans your name, you stick your tongue out.
"I'm not eating that shit."
"Yes, you are." He grabs ahold of your jaw, locking it in place as his separate hand shoves the rice in your mouth. "Chew." He holds your jaw tight, closing it for you, knowing you were gonna spit it out. You furrow your eyebrows, glaring at him as you chew.
His grip on you loosens and drops his hand when he's certain you won't spit it out. Wrong move. You spit the rice out immediately onto the plate. He yells your name before accepting his defeat. "You have to eat, or else you'll throw up, stupid." He grumbled after a little while.
"Nah, I won't."
-
Was being completely and utterly stupid a part of sick symptoms?
You were snuggled up onto Matt's side, watching a movie on his laptop, sneezing and coughing in every direction but his, determined not to get him sick again. Even if that meant you're getting his entire room contaminated. His hand was met with your bare skin that your big shirt failed to cover, his palm sneaking into your shirt and rubbing our hot skin up and down for some sort of comfort.
Now, what made you stupid, was that you still took the medicine. And halfway through the movie, your stomach starts churning. Your eyes widen at the sudden clench of your stomach and you jump up, immediately heading for the bathroom as Matt's hand disappears from your side. Bending down to the toilet, Matt jumps to his feet and follows you inside and you immediately start gagging into the toilet.
You throw up an empty stomach, which hurts more. Matt worriedly holds your hair back as another hand rubs your back, understand ing quickly what was happening. You gag, everything you consumed the other day clears its way out of your body. Matt winces behind you, determined to keep your hair out of the way as he watches the pained look on your face.
The feeling chimes down, and you stand back up, dizzier than you were before, with Matt still using his hands for a make-shift ponytail before dropping it down. You feel yourself almost fall, grabbing onto his forearms for support, taking a few steps toward the sink.
Rinsing your mouth, Matt speaks, "Is it too soon to say I told you so?"
You decide to wash your face, too. "Shut up, bitch." He chuckled nervously from behind you. You felt disgusting and exhausted. "I need a shower." You mutter, rubbing your eyes as sick tiredness gets to you again.
"Not today!" He declares, motioning you back into the bedroom. "I feel so sweaty and gross." You mumbled, leaning on him, not really wanting to use any effort for yourself after that god awful vomit experience. He notices, preferring to pick you up than have you walk on your own.
"I could get you a new set of clothes?" He suggests instead, laying you back onto his bed. "Mmm." You hum in approval, laying fully on your back, too tired to even speak anymore. You felt worse than you did in the morning.
He grabs some folded clothes, all of which belonged to him as he looks back at you. Your eyes were closed, your breathing out of order as you tried to steady it again. You feel both of Matt's thumbs hook around each side of your waistband before slowly shoving them down, his cold fingertips brushing against your burning hot body. Taking the pants off you, he takes one of your legs and puts it in the leg hole of sweatpants that belonged to him, repeating the action on the other leg before pulling it past your thighs and to your hips. He ties the strings around your waist so it wouldn't fall off you.
"Thank you, Matt." You slur, barely able to open your eyes again as your mind begins going blank. "Anything for you, love." He softly takes your shirt off of your head as you lift your arms up lazily for some sort of help. Matt grins at your lazy action, putting a graphic t-shirt over your head. You seemed completely out of it, so he puts your arms through the holes for you, making sure your stomach is fully covered. "Sleepy, huh?" He says more to himself than you.
A small part of your mind hadn't completely fallen asleep, your ears picking up on it but not registering what he'd said, humming in response to make it seem like you were still awake. Matt fixes your position on the bed. It was only 8:00 PM at night, and he still needed to film a car video in a few hours. He knew exactly what he would bring up.
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Kitchen counter
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Fluff drabble + gn reader
Law almost jumps out of his skin when he spots you drowsy on the kitchen counter, alone in silence underneath the white lights of the submarine, almost like a lucid dream
He approaches you from behind, keeping silent
He towers over you even when sitting down, his eyes wonder on your peaceful face, eyes closed, hand under your chin while the other stays clinging to your cup of tea
You hate tea, you must’ve been desperate, looking for a cure to your sleepless night
He admires you for a while, not noticing he may appear a little bit creepy just staring, but you look just so effortlessly dreamy
“I can feel you staring, Captain” you mutter, your voice soft like a summer breeze, but it shakes Law to his core
He takes a step back and panics, but as your giggles meets his ears, he relaxes, a smirk forming in his lips as he decides to sit beside you
“Sleeping on the kitchen won’t help you rest better” you let out a tired sigh, your head turning to your Captain
When your eyes meet, Law can’t help but wonder if you always look at him the way you’re looking at him now, so sweet and warm, like he’s the answer to all of your problems
The calmness of the late night allows him to unravel, savoring the moment of your shared presence, bodies tired and souls alight
“I just had a long day”
He knew this. At very early hours of the day, he had heard your loud screaming trough the hallways of the sub, bashing over Satchi and Penguin who had thrown away an important paper you had been working on when they were tasked with cleaning your office
So you had to redo the whole paperwork
Because of this, you were late for dinner and the worst thing imaginable had happened, you didn’t get any dessert
Your favorite part of the day
Suddenly, Law feels a weight on his shoulder, he turns to see your head nuzzled on his side, eyes lost looking at the emptiness of the kitchen. A new feeling forms in his heart, he can feel it reeling going a mile per minute, warmth irradiates from his flushed face, and even though this feeling is new and alien, he likes it
Another silence falls over both, but this one’s different, this one is sweet, homely and welcome, a silence that speaks louder than any words could
Scared, Law allows his head to fall over yours, the way his body fits with yours in prefect harmony makes his heart swell. He closes his eyes and prays for this moment to remain forever, he wants you all to himself like this everyday
After a while, your weight falls slack, he peeks to see you completely asleep. He smiles to himself, a hand traveling to push away the lost strands of hair, showing him a full picture of your beautiful face
Big mistake
Another wave of that same emotion he felt moments ago washes over him, what were you doing to this poor man?
What was he to do now?
Ever so gently, he removes his arm to support your back while the other goes down to your feet so he can pick you up bridal style, keeping you close to his chest. As he walks you to your room, he feels you clenching at his shirt, looking for his warmth
He lets you down light as a feather, but a part of him doesn’t want to let go, a part of him wants to take you away
He peeks at Ikkaku’s bed praying to every god above that she hasn’t woken up, to his delight she is fast asleep without a care in the world. He tucks you in with the outmost care, before he stares at you yet again, burning this moment into his memory
“Good night” he whispers, making his way out to his bed
As he drifts to sleep he wonders if having you by his side every night would help you sleep better
It’ll help him sleep better that’s for sure
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corrodedbisexual · 20 hours
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Eddie is constantly bouncing between jobs and rage quitting every 6 months on average. Steve, however, somehow gets lucky with a job in computer sales. With the industry in a booming rise, he makes a pretty decent income to support them both whenever Eddie's out of a job. Best part is, even though his charming voice and smile certainly help make sales, he doesn't feel like he's one of those scammers pushing all kinds of crap people don't need. Computers are objectively useful.
This goes on until their mid 30s and Steve saves up enough to open his own small tech store. He very hesitantly starts involving his recently unemployed (again) boyfriend in some mundane tasks (upon Eddie's own initiative saying he wants to help) and quickly learns that all of Eddie's previous bosses were morons. Eddie's meticulous and a quick learner with every single task. All he needs is not to have a boss who's a total jackass to him, and a bit of freedom to just... be himself.
Eddie does everything with mild enthusiasm; mild, because it's still work, ugh; enthusiasm, because it's his BOYFRIEND finally being free to do his own thing instead of working for The Man, woohoo, go Stevie! Eddie doesn't need to wear a stupid uniform or put his hair up, can play music in his headphones doing inventory, answers the phones in his special flirty manner, and Steve doesn't have a problem with any of that. He actually listens to Eddie's bitching and recognizes the helpful suggestions to improve things in the middle of all that, instead of telling him to shut up and do his damn job.
Working together can often be the perfect storm to ruin a relationship, but despite becoming Eddie's de-facto boss, Steve never treats him differently. It's never orders, always "Eddie can you [do this and that]?". It's soft smiles and a quiet "thanks, babe", and if no one's around, a kiss on Eddie's cheek when he gets something done. It's a calm explanation instead of yelling if he messes up.
Steve hands Eddie a handful of cash at the end of each week, despite Eddie's comments that it's a bit ridiculous to pay him at all, since he'd been practically living out of Steve's pocket for months at a time, and Steve has been single-handedly paying the rent for their joint apartment. Steve insists though, and Eddie has to admit that it's nice to always have cash in his pocket now.
Eddie learns more and more of everything that's needed to run the store, to the point that he spends a week handling everything alone when Steve's sick with the flu, but it's still a shock when several months later Steve shows him the paperwork in which he writes Eddie in as full partner. Eddie tries to protest, but Steve won't have it; he says he never could have survived all these months of start-up chaos without Eddie, and he fully deserves this. He's been giving Eddie half the store profits for months anyway, time to just make it official.
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solar-wing · 2 days
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⚣ Dick Grayson: NSFW Alphabet 🔵
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⚣🔵 Words → 3.5k
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙
⚣ ENJOY 🔵
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Caring and attentive. In other words, cling as hell.
It’s amazing how someone who was just fucking you like an absolute slut could turn into the world’s most innocent and soft boy in existence. When you think about it, it’s actually a little bit disturbing as well.
But, I digress. Dick will absolutely pick you up and carry you into the shower or whatever you desire. He’s also perfectly fine with lying in the mess. He doesn’t care as long as he gets to cuddle you right after.
He will have an overwhelming smug attitude though, especially if the sex was preceded by an argument, disagreement, or the acrobat just wanted to teach you a lesson. He can be a little shit when he wants to be.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
I feel like we all know the answer to this one.
Dick’s butt is praised so much, that you already know he puts extra time and care into making sure it stays nice, right, and tight. He not so secretly loves when you play with it as well, whether it’s a light slap or pressing up against him even though he’s always the top. Notable mentions: His chest, abs, and thighs.
If you assumed his favorite body part on you was your ass, you’d guess right. Congratulations! You win nothing except a hard and playful smack on said ass from the acrobat. You’re welcome! Honorable mentions: Your waist, thighs, and chest. His weakness is any kind of jiggle and he is not ashamed or afraid of getting caught staring.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He may not play basketball but he’s a shooter (kill me). He can pretty much cover you anywhere or reach your furthest depths inside (careful if it’s M-Preg or he’ll definitely be the father).
He’s equal with where he likes to cum. He likes to sum on your face, chest, and body just as much as he loves to shoot down your throat and inside your hole. And the filthy little acrobat will definitely lick your cum off his hand after stroking you to your own finish. Let’s be clear now, this man has no shame.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Dick’s got a body count. Not as high as Bruce’s maybe but it’s up there. He can play innocent all he wants, but that man can and will get down when he’s feeling it.
Which, speaking of, he has definitely used Nightwing to land him some ass. No, I will not be taking questions.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Again, he doesn’t exactly have the title of a playboy like his adoptive father, but Dick’s been around the block. So he definitely knows a thing or two when it comes to the down and dirty.
Even if you are experienced yourself, I can guarantee Dick knows some tricks you don’t know which will have you, well…let’s save that for the bedroom, shall we?
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Face down, ass up, and no that was not a suggestion. Dick absolutely favors any position where your ass is bouncing in his face. Doggy, reverse cowgirl, spooning, standing behind, anything.
He also loves a good 69 moment and enjoys the missionary positions where he can really put in some power while inside you. You on the bed and him standing, countertop, or a stand-carry.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
If you know Dick’s personality, while the boy can be an absolute menace in the bedroom, he’s still a goofball at heart. Also, known for his witty banter, you can expect some wild stuff to come out that man’s mouth while he’s cumming to yours (tee hee).
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Dick is definitely well-groomed. He used to be a performer so he always took extreme care of his appearance. Keeps himself shaven and clean-cut, which definitely makes him appear bigger, as well as keeping those areas down there fresh and ready for any kind of play.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Dick is a romantic at heart. As much as he can be a little dominant shit in the bedroom, he’s always down for some soft love and intimate moments.
Candles, roses, food, massages with kisses down your body, maybe a little romantic dance before you get sweaty. You name it, Dick’s already thought of it and is thinking of more. Just as much as he wants to please you sexually, intimacy and romance never is off the table.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Dick is probably the most sexually active just behind Bruce, so you can definitely imagine that boy is no stranger to an evening alone with just him and his hand. Just as much as he knows how to please others, he knows how to please himself.
He knows when he’s in the mood to drag it out and edge himself while imagining or watching some slow, soft dirty dancing, and he knows when he’s frustrated and just needs to rub one out to get the edge off a little bit. Again, you won’t find many things in that realm that Dick has not either already tried or even just learned about.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Role-Playing: Once again, I bring up the fact that Dick is a retired performer. You know he’s one for the dramatics and theatrics, especially when it comes to sex. Whether it’s Nightwing coming to the rescue of some helpless dude, or instead that same person being abducted and forced to serve Nightwing to earn his freedom, nothing is off the table. And yes, as I just implied, that included CNC (Consensual-Non-Consensual). He’d never push you too far (unless variable circumstances apply), but he’s down to play any role. He’s the cop and you’re the guilty criminal he’s just arrested. You’re his student and desperately need a passing grade to graduate.
BDSM: He’s not too much into the lifestyle, but he definitely dabbles. He likes certain aspects of it, specifically the bondage, Dom/Sub roles, and getting to inflict punishments (his favorite being spanking cause it means he gets to play with your ass more). This also helps a lot with this abducted, helpless victim role-play when he gets to pull out the cuffs, rope, blindfolds, gags, and whatever else he’s got lying around. And he’s not opposed to the roles being reversed.
Dirty Talk: The guy is all about using his words remember. Self-explanatory.
Public Play (Exhibitionism): Dick’s not a sex addict, but he might as well be one with the way that man will drop his pants without a second thought, no matter where he is. Of course, he’s not just going to outright start doing it in front of others, but the thrill of pulling you into a dark corner, alleyway, restroom and the risk of you getting caught will always get him excited. Double points if you actually do get caught, because again, this man has no shame.
Honorable Mentions: Edge Play (choking/breath play), Impact Play (sub of BDSM, spanking, paddling, etc), Wrestling, Daddy kink, Mirror Sex, etc.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
As we just went over, public places really get Dick going. Especially if he’s out as Nightwing and wants to pull you into a random alley or bring you to some high-up rooftop, he will happily christen a surface that is not within the confines of his own house or private dwelling, and he won’t feel bad about it.
Other specific places?
The shower, any counter or table surface, the Batmobile, his motorbike, literally anywhere in his apartment, etc.
He really has no reservations about where he does it, as long as he can get up in you, he’s content.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
#1 – He’s a horny bastard: Again, he’s not a sex addict, but he sure has the sex drive of one. It doesn’t take much to get him turned on. A casual, suggestive sentence, the way your shorts are really highlighting your work in the gym, how you're sucking on the straw while sipping your drink, or even when you’re just standing or sitting doing nothing, that man will get hard and he will pounce on you.
#2 – Domestic Actions/Life: This is something I forgot to mention with Jason so I’ll mention it here because I’m definitely head-canoning that they both share this in common. Any kind of domestic act. You cook him dinner when he comes home or pack his lunch before he heads out for the day. Helping clean up his house or doing his laundry and folding his clothes. Running him a bath, washing his hair, giving him a massage after a hard day or night. Waiting up for him in bed after patrol and patting the space once he changes out of his uniform, laying down and letting him vent about anything on his mind while you rub his body or head. All of it and more will definitely have him up and ready for fun.
#3 – Jealousy: Now, you may think I mean when someone flirts with you and he gets all macho and protective, rah rah rah. Nope, not at all (unless we’re talking Alpha Dick in Omegaverse. Then, that’s different because, by the rule, it’s a part of his biology to be). Dick is actually quite casual and will find it humorous when someone tries to even think about flirting with you in hopes of stealing you away from him. He knows his worth, and even more, he knows how good his dick is. He’s not worried. But, when it’s the opposite, and someone flirts with him because again, this man is literally one of the most attractive beings probably in the entire world, he absolutely will be turned on at the sight of you staking your claim on him, chasing off any hag dared flirt with him in front of you.
Honorable Mentions: Arguing/Make-Up Sex, Clothing, exercising, any kind of physical touch.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)
Nothing that could involve serious injury or blood. Also, nothing even remotely unsanitary. I mean scat/throw-up/piss.
Also, he may be into very public displays of affection but do not get it twisted one bit. Dick is not into any type of sharing. He’s a sweetie at heart, but don’t piss him off with that ridiculous idea.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Dick is the goat of throat. Yeah, I said it…what you gon do? Beat my ass or something?
Just kidding, but no seriously, this man has a reputation known among his sexual partners for the danger to society that is his mouth, and not when it’s giving off a witty/sarcastic remark. He’s been known to drive some people to the brink of insanity, metaphorically speaking of course. But, then again, you never know with these people.
He loves to receive head and loves to give it even more. Especially when he gets to play with your balls and deny your orgasm every time you reach the edge, the little bastard. Same can be said if he’s munching on that hole too, which he eagerly does cause the sight of it puckering and winking at him sends all the little happy flutters to his own groin.
Now, if we’re talking again about receiving, and you think you’re gonna have him putty in your hand like he does with you, think again. This man is the definition of a seasoned veteran. There’s only been one known time he’s ever gotten overwhelmed and came from just head, and that was when he was a teenager. If you’re hoping to do that now, you’d better have expert-level skills, cause he will test you. Facefucking, choking and gagging, and whatever else that comes to mind.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on the mood.
High off adrenaline after an intense patrol or fight? Congratulations, you’re about to be his next victim. You got jealous and cussed out someone for trying to flirt with him? Prepare to learn a whole new meaning of getting rough sex. Wore some 3 in shorts to the gym AND did a leg day? Gon head and bend that ass over, you’re about to experience why he’s called ‘Dick’ rather than ‘Rich’ or something else for a nickname. Please cancel any plans you have for that evening or the next day cause you may not be able to walk, stand, or even move for that manner.
On the opposite side, did you take his Nightwing suit and hand wash it, making it look like the day he first put it on? Sweet lord, you’re a treasure and he’s about to show you why. It’s your anniversary and you got him one of the most beautiful and sentimental gifts? You and your body are about to be treated like an award that he is the sole recipient of. You cussed out Bruce after he did something stupid and reckless again involving Dick or one of the others? Not only is Jason blessing the ground you walk on, Dick’s about to drop down on one knee and propose, and then proceed to treat your body like a slut in the most romantic and sensual way you could ever imagine. As a precaution, still, go ahead and cancel any future plans just in case.
Dick truly has no preference other than whatever he’s feeling at the moment. Long, deep strokes, or quick, fast juts? Whatever gets the job done and reminds you there’s nobody better than him is good in his book.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Dick loves quickies. As chaotic and busy as his life is, he practically lives off them and craves them.
Again, this man should have his headshot in the dictionary next to ‘horny’ or promiscuous. Cause if it was up to him? He’d be screwing you once every 2 hours at least. Whether it’s a quick handjob he’s giving you, or he’s got both your pants down while rapidly fucking into you cause he’s only got five minutes before he has to get back, he’s doing it.
The man thinks they should be protected and enshrined into law. That’s how much he loves them.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He’ll try anything and everything under the sun and moon as long as it’s not one of his already-mentioned no-no’s. If it adds excitement to the routine, why not? You never know with that man.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Very adamant stamina. His plentiful experiences have shaped it, and his physical training and endurance have added to it.
That man can do multiple rounds in a night, ranging anywhere from 3-5, and maybe even more if just that kind of night. He also knows his body, and can/will do what he needs to do to drag one round out for as long as he can until not only is he satisfied himself, but he feels he’s adequately satisfied you. And to be clear, you have absolutely no say on whether he feels like he’s satisfied you or not.
So please, get used to the idea of being overstimulated and crying at the 3rd or 4th orgasm he gives you before he’s even had one. It’ll save you a lot of frustration (not really but you get what I mean).
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Dick, who again, will and has tried everything under the moon and sun. Of course, he has toys. What do you think this is? A playground? Please…
And trust, he’s going to get more. He’s probably signed up on a loyalty program with a sex store or website, and best believe he’s got diamond status.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
A prayer for the innocent soul who unknowingly awakens the playful, petty, and vindictive part of Dick Grayson’s personality, especially when it comes to sex. May god, the universe, karma, whatever else have mercy on your soul and may the odds ever be in your favor.
There’s a reason I call Dick Grayson a little shit, bastard, fucker, and other various names because that is literally what he is, and I love him the more for it. He doesn’t get angry, upset, or even mad (unless it’s something serious). No, he gets petty, and that turns into him being the most teasing piece of shit in the bedroom, especially if you’ve challenged him in some kind of way.
Orgasm denial, forcing you to be quiet and stay still, sensory overload, multiple orgasms, and overstimulation; all this and he hasn’t even put his tongue on you yet, let alone his dick anywhere near you. That man is vindictive and will play on it until his heart’s content. Please, tread carefully when choosing whether or not you want to fuck with this man, especially if he’s in a mood.
Matter of fact, just run. Actually, don’t do that either. He likes the chase. FUCK! You’re screwed no matter what (metaphorically AND literally).
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Dick gets loud. And he wants you to get equally as loud with him.
He’s not afraid to let out the sluttiest sounds, from soft and quiet moans to loud and debauched shouts from the top of his lungs. He can be quiet if need be, but he’d rather not. He enjoys the idea of people knowing he’s getting lucky and, even more, the idea of people knowing you’re getting lucky from him.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
That man has an obsession with doing it in his Nightwing suit. You think he picked that style and aesthetic for something as useless as flexibility, quick movement, and durability? Absolutely not. 
Dick absolutely knew what he was doing when he had his suit designed. He wanted to look like a slut and nothing more, and that's okay! I mean, come on, you think his ass looking that good in his uniform was a coincidence? A mistake? How innocent and naive of you.
Everyone should have known Dick’s true intentions when they saw how sinfully deep the cut was in his first suit that we all know and love as Discowing. That man fully intended for his suit to be something he could fuck up and fuck dudes in while looking hot. It was non-negotiable.
Look at him.
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Like, I'm sorry, but what the hell do you mean I’m not supposed to be turned on and have my legs divorcing like a whore who's being prosecuted in a court of law due to adulterous behavior with this standing in front of me? Are you unwell?!?!?
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Yeah, respectfully no. I will forever headcanon that Dick Grayson knew exactly what he was doing when he had his suits designed, and it was the complete opposite of what everyone was saying.
“Dick is quick and agile."
"He’s lightweight on his feet."
"He needs a suit that will support and accentuate his acrobatic skills.”
Absolutely not. That man is (respectfully in an empowering context) a slut, on the inside and out, and he wanted a suit that would best show it to the world. I will not be gaslit into believing otherwise.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
What Dick lacks in girth, he makes up for in length and skill. He’s definitely not thin, but he's a little under-average when it comes to thickness. Somewhere between 6-7 inches.
More than likely cut, and has a voluptuous head that’s perfect for sucking on and teasing.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
We’ve discussed this in great length, multiple times. It’s self-explanatory at this point. The man is basically the human equivalent of a rabbit or bunny.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Dick can stay up long after the round has been up, especially if he’s in a mood where he wants to talk. Ironically, after fucking like some wild animals with the most questionable mindsets and morals, he loves to shoot the shit and have pillow talk after.
I don’t know how many times I have to say it, but Dick is basically a chatterbox and will ask you about your day, what you had for lunch, who pissed you off at work, and more while still buried inside of your ass with your dick pressed between both your stomachs. He’s also content with turning on the TV or whatever screen is available and watching a movie or something until you both fall asleep. Mind you, he’s probably still inside you and is going to try his best to stay inside even if he’s gone soft and keeps slipping out.
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☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 23 hours
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Baby’s Gotta Gun (Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader)
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Summary: You’ve been in a situationship with Rafe for over a year and when you show up to his party that he invited you to and there’s another girl all over him, you’ve finally had it. WK: 1.3k
Warnings: Gun play, unprotected sex, jealousy, possessiveness, reader is a lil unhinged, switch!Rafe, switch!reader, a lil fluff dashed in. Porn/no plot. 18+MNDI!
This is for me and @babygorewhore’s Writing Prompt Game, feel free to click the link and come play!!🤍
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“Tell me, tell me who owns this fucking cock.” You run the tip of his pistol over his plush split slick lips while you bounce on his cock like your life depends on it. The sound of your wet cunt and hips slapping together echoing through the room.
“You - fuckin’ shit - you do baby, you own my cock.” Rafe’s eyes roll back when you start to rotate your hips, his large hands grip onto the fat of your ass while you ride him like a fucking succubus.
“Didn’t I tell you to fucking look at me while I take what’s mine, huh?” You move the gun to his head, shoving it against his temple as your free hand grips onto his jaw, squeezing his cheeks together until he opens his eyes. “You look those other girls in the eyes while you fuck them or do you just get it in and move on? Because when you fuck me you take your time, tell me how beautiful I am and how much I mean to you but then you’re buried in the next hoe you see.”
“Baby, I’m sorry. You know - oh fuuuck - you know you’re my girl.” Rafe feels like he’s about to fucking bust any second. Your pace doesn’t falter for a moment, fucking yourself on his cock like you’re trying to drain him of every drop of cum in his body. Driven by pure jealousy and rage.
“Yeah? You’re always fucking saying that, Cameron. But then shit like this happens. I show up to your party, that you invited me to and there’s some bitch on your lap with her tongue down your throat the minute I get here?” You run the barrel of the gun down the side of his face as you chuckle darkly, using your grip on his jaw to shake his head side to side. “If you don’t want anything serious why are you always buying me shit? Scaring off every dude that talks to me? Telling everyone I belong to you while you’re out fucking around?”
“It’s just… baby, shit, if you keep fucking me like that I’m gonna fucking blow my load any second.” Rafe hates to admit that your possessive jealousy is only turning him on more. The crazy look in your eyes, the way you’re fucking him like you own him, while you hold his gun. It’s really fucking doing it for him.
“Don’t you dare fucking cum, Rafe. I’m not done with you. Answer my god damn question.” You slow your pace a bit as you take his face in both of your hands, the grip you still have on the pistol causing it to press against the side of his head.
“I’m sorry, I’m all yours from now on, alright? I fuckin’ mean it. I was just scared, baby. You’re too perfect for me. Knew if I made you mine for real I’d have to marry you someday.” He’s not even sure why he said that, it’s not like he hasn’t subconsciously thought about it before. You were perfect in every way before but this possessive display just makes him want you even more.
“HA! Thirty minutes ago you were dry humping some girl you’ve never talked to and now you’re talking marriage? Be so fucking for real, Rafe.” You bring the gun to his temple again, leaning in so your lips are brushing the shell of his ear. “If you were a real man you would’ve made it official a fucking year ago.”
That was the final straw for him. If you didn’t wanna believe him he would fucking show you how serious he was. He grips onto the gun, easily ripping it from your hand while his other arm wraps around your waist, using his hold on you to flip you on your back. He hovers over you, turning the tables on you by pressing the gun against the side of your head.
“Will you just shut the fuck up for a second. You’re my girl, aight? My girl.”
“I’ve heard that like a million times, pretty boy, doesn’t mean shit to me. You really think I’m gonna just-“ your words are cut short when he slips the gun between your lips.
“I said stop talking, I fucking mean it every time I say it. And you’re right. I was being a pussy bitch. But now I’m gonna show you who you belong to, who I belong too.” He pulls the barrel out of your mouth slightly before slipping it back between your lips. “Suck.”
You roll your eyes, leaving your lips open. He grips onto his cock, slamming it into your wet pussy in one swift motion, starting up at the brutal pace. “I” Thrust. “Said” Thrust. “Fucking suck.”
Your eyes roll back, this time in pleasure, as your wrap your lips around the cool metal, swirling your tongue.
“Hey” His large hand slaps your cheek lightly. “Fucking look at me while I take what’s mine.”
Your eyes fly open and you're met with his intense ocean blue stare as he fucks you hard and deep, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust of his hips. “Yeah, there’s my fucking girl.”
He pulls the gun from your mouth, pushing himself up on his knees, his thrusts never faltering. He smirks down at you before bringing the spit slick barrel to your clit, circling it in time with his cock pounding into you.
“Ohmyfuckinggod!” You cry out as you cum, your walls pulsing around him.
“Yeah that’s it, fuckin’ cum for me, that’s my girl. Say it, say you’re my girl.”
“I’m your girl, daddy, I’m your girl.” You babble and Rafe smirks, knowing he has you right where he wants you now that you’re back to calling him his rightful title.
“And I’m yours baby, got it? Always been yours. Always thought about you. Always felt shitty and just wanted to see you after I fucked around with anyone else.” He feels his high start to build, tossing the gun to the side before he leans down, covering your body with his. He laces his fingers with yours and captures your lips in a surprisingly tender kiss, that completely contradicted the way he was fucking you.
“Yeah, you’re fucking mine. I’ll kill any bitch that tries to touch you.” You practically growl, burying your face into his neck so you can suck on his skin, marking him as yours.
“That’s so fucking hot - shiiiit, baby girl, I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill my pretty little pussy up.” You bite down onto his shoulder as your long manicured nails scratch down his back, marking him up even further and it sends him over the edge. His hips still against yours as his cock twitches inside you, painting your walls with his cum. “Yeah, that’s a fuckin’ good girl, take my fuckin’ cum.”
Rafe rolls off of you, panting as he falls to his side. He pulls you into him and you lay your head on his chest, placing a soft kiss on his peck.
“Did you mean all of that?” You ask nervously, afraid to look at him.
“Babe, look at me.” He cradles your face in his hand urging you to look up at him. When your eyes meet his, he smiles softly. “You’re my girl, okay? And I’m yours. No more games. No more bitches. Just you and me, aight?”
“Yeah, alright. That sounds nice, daddy.” He leans down, kissing you passionately as he weaves his fingers through your hair.
“Plus, I’ll kill any guy that even breathes your air.”
“Yeah? Well I’ll kill any bitch that even thinks about you.” He chuckles, placing another gentle kiss on your lips. After this? He kinda believes you. But he doesn’t mind, because he would kill for you anyday.
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alexias-putellas · 8 hours
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girlfriend // l.wälti x reader
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l.wälti x reader
based on this request! ft an oc so apologies if your name is actually ava 😅😅 it’s not a long one but i wanted to get something out for you all since i’m feeling a little better <3
-
you scowled into your glass, rolling your eyes at beth’s pathetic attempt at concealing her laughter. leah’s hand was on lia’s arm again and when the blonde smirked at you, you had half a mind to throw your glass at her stupid face.
“you wouldn’t feel like this if you just asked her out.” beth said and you whipped your head around to look at her.
“why would i ask her out?”
”why would you ask her out?” beth scoffed and you were almost offended at how stupid she made you sound. “maybe because you fancy her and she fancies you.”
“yeah,” you snorted, motioning to lia and leah again. “sure looks like it.”
“leah’s just pissing you off, you know that nothing’s going on with them.”
you rolled your eyes again. beth was right but that didn’t mean you had to like it. you’d seen the speculation from fans and whilst most of it was funny, some of it did bother you.
“here,” steph shoved a different drink into your hand as she dropped into the seat next to yours. “that’ll cheer you up.”
“ugh, i am not in a mood!”
both beth and steph gave you a look and you sighed, slumping back into your seat. suddenly drinking with the girls was a terrible idea. even more so when you looked back up to see lia and leah mere inches from each other.
“you know what? i think i’m gonna go,” you stood, gathering your things quickly, waving off the attempts at getting you to stay. “no, honestly, i’m pretty tired. i’ll see you both at training.”
you somehow managed to escape the pub without any more of a fuss and decided to forego your usual after-drinking meal and head straight home, your appetite suddenly lost.
ᡣ𐭩
how the girls managed to get you back into a pub a few days later you didn’t know. you must’ve said no a million times but yet there you were, glaring daggers at leah once again. who in your opinion was sitting far too close to lia. with a heaved sigh, you made your way over to the bar.
“the other one is a lot nicer.” someone said next to you and you hummed in confusion, glancing down at your drink before turning to them.
you found yourself face to face with a fairly attractive girl who couldn’t have been much older than you and you blushed under her intense gaze. “i’ve never actually tried it.”
“well we can’t have that,” she grinned at you before waving down a bartender. “i’m ava by the way.”
you just about managed to splutter out your own name before she was handing you a bottle, hitting the bottom of it slightly to encourage you to drink it.
she wasn’t wrong about the flavour. the one she’d ordered was a lot nice than the one you chose and you were quick to let her know.
had you been paying attention to your incredibly nosy teammates, you’d have noticed the way steph and beth were nudging each other and doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact that they were talking about you. of course that caught the attention of your other teammates and soon you had an audience.
but lia wasn’t happy. she watched with a frown as you laughed at something the stranger said, your head falling back as you gripped onto the bar so you wouldn’t fall.
the brunette’s eyes were stuck on the two of you and she grew a little giddy when it looked like the conversation had ended but for some reason you were bringing the stranger over to the table.
“hey guys, this is ava,” you said, guiding the stranger—ava to the only spare seats. “she’s actually a huge fan.”
you and ava ended up in the seats between lia and jen and much to the swiss woman’s dismay, ava was as kind and funny as she was pretty. and the other girls seemed to really like her.
ava was answering one of jordan’s questions when you felt something brush against your thigh. you glanced down, seeing lia’s hand resting on your chair.
it wasn’t long before it founds its way onto your thigh. if ava noticed she didn’t say anything.
after a few more drinks, one of the girls suggested that you all relocated to the club down the road. of course nobody had objections and as soon as you’d entered the building, you were being pulled up to dance by katie and you were quick to grab ava’s wrist, the three of you heading over to the crowded dance floor.
you briefly noticed some of the other girls dotted around but katie was twirling you before you could do anything.
you were thankful that the lights were able to hide your flushed face as ava caught you in her arms. you watched as she glanced behind her, her grip loosening ever so slightly. if you hadn’t had that last drink, you probably would’ve asked her what was wrong. but leah was handing you a shot and all was forgotten.
for a while anyway.
you soon found yourself dragging ava into the toilets and whilst you weren’t expecting anything to happen, you were still a little disappointed that nothing did.
“i think i’m gonna go.” ava said loudly as you washed your hands, looking at her with furrowed brows.
“why?”
“your girlfriend is scary.”
“lia’s not my girlfriend.”
ava’s eyebrow quirked and you felt your face flush again, the clear lights doing nothing in your favour. “funny that you knew who i was talking about.”
“seriously though, she’s not.”
“could’ve fooled me,” ava shrugged. “it’s clear that she wants to be and i’m guessing you feel the same.”
“oh my—what is happening right now?” you whispered to yourself, quickly drying your hands on your dress. “i thought we were going to hook up but now you’re trying to hook me up with lia.”
there was a flash of something on ava’s face but you caught it, eyes narrowing as she laughed somewhat nervously. “stranger things have happened in this club i imagine.”
“yeah, no—which one of them put you up to this?”
ava sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “leah and beth.”
“both of them? can’t say i’m surprised,” you shook your head. “well ava, it’s been a pleasure to meet you anyway and i’ve actually had a really good night.”
“me too,” ava nodded in agreement whilst glancing at the door behind you. “now go get your girl.”
whilst that was something you wanted to do, part of you also wanted to see just how far your friends would go to get you and lia together.
you waved ava off and managed to find the girls, frowning when they appeared to be gathering their stuff to leave. you could hear katie calling them boring as she downed the rest of her drink.
her arm was quickly thrown around your shoulder and you were yanked into her side. this didn’t go unnoticed by lia.
“oh my god, katie, you’re so heavy get off!” you whined as you somehow made it outside, desperately glancing at the other girls for help. “you’re not even that drunk, get off!”
katie laughed as you struggled to push her off but eventually managed it. you glared at her, shoving her forward and ignoring the quip of be careful from beth.
you noticed that lia wasn’t there and glanced behind you to see her walking slowly, head facing the ground. you stood still, waiting until she was near you before speaking. “hey are you okay?”
lia looked up like a deer caught in headlights as she registered that it was you. in your head, you were so lost in the thought of telling her how you felt that you hadn’t noticed her standing right in front of you until her lips were on yours.
you melted into the kiss, stomach fluttering as her thumbs gently rubbed along the skin of your cheeks. when lia pulled away, you frowned a little, not ready for the moment to end just yet.
“why haven’t we done that before?” lia asked quietly.
“i’m not sure,” you whispered, glancing down at her lips. “but we should definitely do it again. and maybe some more tomorrow.”
and when lia’s lips met yours for another kiss, you made a mental note to profusely thank beth and leah for their annoyingly useful nosiness.
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vagabond-umlaut · 2 days
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toasty
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sometimes, it isn't just the weather which is comfortably warm. sometimes, it can be one person, because of another person, as well.
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gojo satoru x fem!reader; pre-relationship; gojo is a menace; you're a miniature circuit breaker; gojo calls you 'cookie'; mentions of food; i repeat: gojo is a MENACE; 610 wc; *empties a big container labelled 'fluff' into this fic*
belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be treated as a stand-alone fic if you wanna
divider by @/benkeibear; pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this; jjk isn't mine
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"do you like that dress?"
you shouldn't look this surprised, no. hell no.
you know gojo's been sitting beside you for the better part of the last fifteen minutes. and you know he has a rather sharp set of eyes, with or without his 'six eyes' activated— yet you do look surprised. terribly so— and the man wonders, what made you think he would not notice you staring at the bright piece of cloth in the shop window.
particularly when you've left your favourite ice cream on the brink of melting and falling on your uniform— not that it'll make it any dirtier though; the curses from before have done a splendid job of it...
stealing a bite from your cone, gojo plops back into his seat. the grin threatening to bloom on his lips wilts when he sees the surprise turn into something shocked, maybe even scandalised in your features— eyes wider, brows higher, lower jaw hanging lower...
he lets the grin form anyway. "what? your ice cream was melting— i cannot let the money i spent to buy it, go to waste now, can i?"
you snap your mouth close in less than an instant. then open it again to take quite a large bite from your ice cream, brows scrunching and eyes screwing close— the brain freeze gojo was in wait for, for you to suffer from, never comes.
you take a second bite, even bigger.
some part of him shrivels, disappointed— before it swells up again, at the narrowed-eye look you send his way— before it dries up a second time, when your gaze returns to the dress from before.
the fabric looks extremely dull to the sorcerer now. he kicks your leg under the table. biting back a grin when you look back at him, lips in an annoyed little frown.
although it doesn't take too long to become a smile. tired, yes. but a fond one all the same— you've always been too soft to him, haven't you?
he repeats his ask, "do you like that dress?"
"i..." your gaze drops to your ice cream for a beat. then rises. a warmth settles into your cheeks, visible and adorable. "i kind of like that dress. it looks pretty." a beat. your lips part in a tentative smile. "what do you think, gojo-san? will i look good in it?"
the addressed man pauses.
but it is not because he has to decide on an answer— the answer is a yes. a resounding yes— still, he doesn't find the voice to say the word, the monosyllable repeated over and over and over again in his brain—
"you always look beautiful to me, cookie. no matter what you wear."
the shocked, scandalised expression makes a return to your face, not a moment later than when the words leave his mouth.
only to be shoved away when you attempt to take such a huge bite of your melting ice cream, the chocolate chip treat ends up caking a big portion of the lower half of your face— from your nose and extending till your chin.
gojo doesn't bother to hold back his laughter this time— its loudness increasing at the resulting wrinkle in your nose when he reaches over to scoop up a bit of the mess with his fingers, then licks it off them—
"you're a disgusting man," you mutter, voice so mortified and frail as your gaze keeps jumping from his hand to his blindfolded eyes.
something curls up inside the sorcerer. the sensation growing worse, growing better, the longer he stares at this precious little face you've made:
"and you're a cookie— my choco chip cookie!"
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the reader is an mcb— reasons for which, i hope, u all hv understood by now 🤭🤭
masterlist
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iamasimperyk · 3 days
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Just a little help -Rafe Cameron
Warnings: Corruption, Anger Issues, Not proof read, English is not my first language
Pairing: Grumpy!Rafe x Sunshine!Reader
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You hated Rafe. He was a grumpy guy while you were a ray of pure sunshine. The fact that he was a Kook while you were a Pogue didn't make things any better.
You couldn't go to the other side of the island without him making rude comments. Of course, they hurt you, but by now, you were pretty much used to it.
"Where are your little friends? After our last encounter, I thought they understood that letting you walk home all by yourself is not a good idea." Rafe grinned like a maniac.
"It gets boring, you know. Everything you can do is insult the Pogues and me. If you have something new, please let me know." You smiled at him, patting his chest. 
You have always followed your instincts without hesitation. And right now, it felt right to pat Rafe's chest.
"Don't touch me with your dirty hands, Pogue." He hissed, turning around to leave.
You took a deep breath, not believing what you were about to do, "Rafe?"
After you called out his name, he turned around quickly, clearly annoyed, "What?"
"Who hurt you?" You asked carefully, to not make him even more upset. You knew it was a cliche moment, but you loved all this corny shit.
Rafe looked at you for a few seconds before he started to laugh. He was laughing directly in your face after you tried to be nice to him for once.
"I suggest you go back to your fucking side of the island and stop asking me shit." He said after calming down his laughter, his tone dangerously low.
"Come on, Rafe, you can tell me. I am actually a very good listener." You tried once again, wanting to help him.
He walked to you as fast as he could, "Listen, Pogue, I know what you are trying to do, and I can guarantee you, it won't work. Did your friends send you to me? Did they think I would go easy on you because you are known as the sunshine of the Cut?"
You quickly shook your head, "I just came from work, so it was a total coincidence that I met you."
The tension was so thick that it seemed like it could have been cut with a knife.
"Look, Rafe, you hate me, and I don't even know why. Everybody told me I was supposed to hate you as well, so I did it. I promise I am here to help you." You looked into his blue eyes, finding some sort of comfort in them.
Rafe Cameron was speechless. Never had anyone wanted to him, and now you, a Pogue, stood in front of him.
"You want to help me to get rid of my anger?" He asked, to which you nodded. 
That was all Rafe needed to see before he pressed his lips onto yours. Your eyes widen in disbelief, not expecting something like this. 
"Now, I feel better." He smirked after pulling away.
"Why would you do that?" You raised your voice at him.
The answer was he didn't know it. He never thought about you in any sexual way, but the way you looked at him, he just had to corrupt you. And that's exactly what he did.
A year later
"Here," You smiled down at Rafe, handing him a glass of whisky.
He pulled you onto his lap, kissing you roughly, "Thank you, what would I do without my little ray of sunshine."
It was like he brainwashed you. You did everything for him, just like he wanted it all those years. He finally had someone who didn't say anything against the things he did. And he intended to keep it that way.
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chosokamosbf · 2 days
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ᑎIGᕼT ᒪIT ᗪEᔕIᖇE.
☆ 18+ only/no minors. | jason todd x gn! reader.
SUMMARY: a nsft fic waking up jason from a nightmare by bringing him to the edge
WARNINGs: 18+, (consensual) somnophilia, gn! reader, (jason receiving) oral, nightmares, minor mentions of blood and scarring.
WORD COUNT: 1600+
NOTEs: second person & no plot. ["babe/baby," and no pronouns used to refer to the insert/reader.]
Sprayed over silk sheets of a bed with more than enough space, in your all-consuming unconsciousness, your body managed to wedge itself in close to your boyfriend, where your head is settled right in the empty space of his shoulder. The weather hasn't been kind of as late, and so all fabrics other than the blankets pushed to the very edge of the mattress hours ago are short to combat the heat.
It hasn't helped much. The fan Jason had set up on your side to turn in place is losing the war as you're both covered in sweat. It isn't made any better by the fact he's been using that shoulder to cradle your head from underneath, the rest of the arm resting over your chest.
The deepening of this velvet night is broken to a steady close as he stirs hard enough to knock you out of that position.
You slowly blink the fog from your mind and rub the crust from your eyes with the one arm that isn't being partially buried under his weight.
The city pours in through even the smallest cracks between the curtains, enveloping their own designated areas in multicolored amalgamations of beams formed from sirens and electrified billboards nearby. It seeps over the sheets until it's reached the ceiling, leaving Jason's arms painted in its light, giving a full show of just how much they're twitching.
The other couple in the complex, whom you have gotten to know real well from their screaming matches (as muffled as they may be), seated only a few apartments away, have nothing on how loud his heaving is getting.
His face is turned away now, and you get up on your elbows to find pale lids pinched tightly together, brows in a deep, settled frown. It's not a far cry from what usually makes him intimidating under the helm, but there's a pout pulling at his lips all the while.
Recently, there's been no notable injuries, but his hands have found either one of his arms just to hold them steady and prod his fingers into anyway.
Sometimes your voice is enough alone to call him out of his head with how much he loves it. "Jason?"
He stays in place, and you sit up to speak his name into the night again while your fingertips trail down an arm.
This time around, a groan answers your inquiry.
His forehead is slick with a growing layer of sweat. The white tank top he was just teasing you about after catching wandering eyes earlier in the night is stuck to his broad chest, and barely is it settling with every pant. 
"Jason, you okay?"
It's always an uphill race with the few hours of rest he's allowed in between 'work.' Some days are better than others, and this clearly isn't one of them.
If plain intuition is serving you well, it's another nightmare.
Your teeth catch on your lower lip. "Baby?"
Rationality by damned, your voice stays weak as the thought of waking him up properly stays just that, a thought.
At worst, Jason's going to get moody if you interrupt his sleep, and he'll carry that over into the morning. Sure, he's trying to get better at communicating, but leaving behind the go-to of never doing just that has given way to taking hours to open up. Still, he doesn't seem like he's enjoying the dream.
There are a thousand or so possibilities as to what this one is exactly about, and you don't need to be a genius to know that he might head straight to the bathroom to get rid of the nasty pit in his stomach by the end of it. As much as you'll usually do your best to help out yesterday's dinner and hold his hair up if need be, there has to another option.
And there is.
Unconventional as it may be, you've talked about it before. When exactly is a fuzzy memory. At best, it stirred from another night of endless rambling, something to fill the silence when you both were left awake.
Most others he's all by himself when he gets back. It isn't the worst, as long as he isn't bleeding to death. Put away everything and make sure nothing gets on the carpet—a steady tradition. Sometimes, he's left with excess energy, though.
He mostly took the offer with little chance in his mind that he'd use it. The rules were set, and Jason made it clear that it was allowed on either side. Wasn't like he was going to make much use of it anyway.
And technically, he hasn't. Three times over a year or so ago, and each one was a gentle transition back into consciousness before he'd shown just how much he appreciated it: appreciated you.
Carefully, you get his nails to pull away from his skin and settle him on his back again. His shirt has etched up over the night, leaving his stomach and the happy trail growing across to the melt-worthy temps.
Trying hard not to wake him up, you press your head onto his chest, slowly rubbing down on his belly. 
Instantly, his breathing stutters.
Even in sleep, he's so gorgeous it hurts to even look at him, not in spite of the stubborn scowl still hanging on his mouth. Those thick eyelashes frame closed eyes. Instead of them blinking awake, his head rolls back over to the side, and the long-since healed gash sprayed over his neck gets stretched into the light peering into your two's home before he's yawning.
And you exhale softly. It feels as if you're breathing in nothing. You swallow hard—once, then twice—and inch your hand past the waistband of his boxers.
He's warm in your palm, and then his breath hitches while you freeze in place.
But Jason doesn't make a move to break your hold on him.
In slow strokes, your hand wrapped around the thick of it glides across, using the pre-cum to make it easier on the both of you. It's not taking much for his cock to start holding up on its own at the attention, but it's taking up the space you need. Your wrist is going to sting in the morning either way, but still.
Gaining more courage, you dare lift your head and softly kiss his cheek.
You form a better grip around it, continuing to kiss every scar and the edge of his lips while your thumb circles the cockhead. A leg swings over another, and the purrs he's basically humming out by now—his lips sealed in his sleep—nearly muffle how the bed creaks when you move to take place between his.
After grabbing the elastic band of his underwear, you slowly pull it down enough for the length to slip free, already drooling and half-hard.
You lean down to slide your tongue down the side to see if that wakes him up, and it doesn't. 
The taste of him coats your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, gradually taking it down till it's almost hitting your throat. The second a groan slips, undiscouraged even through the girth, your hands come around his hips to settle them back down more gently after they subconsciously jerked forward.
Musk overwhelms your senses. Your head tilts up to find through lashes that an arm's moved to rest over his forehead.
Bobbing your head in tune with the same shaky movements moments ago, you suck on the flushed tip, the nib throbbing hot and insistent, pinning your tongue down. 
It starts off quiet, but then the breathy moan filling your ears begins to overshadow the whirling fan. What you can't fit down your throat, you use your hands to give equal attention to. Your face slots closer to his taint to kiss at his balls with spread lips.
Thighs flex over and press against either side of your head, clenching and undoing their tense stances every few seconds while the sheets shift with the writhing further up the bed. You grant yourself time to breathe before kissing the head and then trying to take his thick cock back inside.
So deep into the intimacy, your eyes close just to feel a hand in your hair. A sharp tug pulls you off to see the dark curled back over you.
Seeing him from your angle below, there's a thousand things he could do—instead, his nose scrunches up, and rather than rub his own fluttering eyes open, he holds up a hand to block out the stream of light poking through into his space. The other is laid aside as he props himself back onto an elbow.
His voice isn't anything but a slur. "What're you doing?"
"You were having a nightmare, so I woke you up."
Jason's exhaustion rings through the growl that slips. He doesn't need to look at you for long to tug you towards him and press his lips to yours. In a messy drawl, both of your jaws end with salvia glistening over the skin.
They crash insistently onto yours in heated breath.
Although you're definitely going to remember to clean out your mouth in the afterglow of tonight due to the morning breath.
"Don't remember asking for a wake-up call." His breathing stays the same as it has been: heavy while he's pulling you closer to rest his head over one of your shoulders. "But thanks, baby."
White strands of curls stick to his forehead and roll against you. Meanwhile, he's making use of the little space to trace the muscles of your back with the rough pads he has for palms.
He talks against your lips, refusing to pull back even while the edges of his tug at his own.
"You wanna use that mouth again and finish what you started, babe?"
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sayruq · 2 days
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"I did not expect that the fact that I am an Israeli who visited Israel a few weeks ago would be a red flag that requires questioning," Neriya Ashwal told Walla. Israeli student Neriya Ashwal landed at an airport near Nottingham last Friday and was detained for questioning by the anti-terrorism unit, according to Walla. Neriya is an Israeli student studying in Barcelona. Last weekend, he had an unpleasant experience when he went on a short visit to Britain for a few days, landing at the small East Midlands airport outside Nottingham on Friday. During questioning at the border control, he was asked if he had recently visited Israel, and he answered yes. He was then forced to undergo a more in-depth questioning by no less than the anti-terrorism unit. After the border control officer asked the usual series of questions, Neriya was asked if he had recently visited Israel. "I answered yes and said I had visited family and friends three weeks ago. The border control officer called someone on the phone and reported that they had an Israeli who had visited Israel recently," Neriya told Walla in a phone call from Barcelona. "He nodded, hung up, and asked me to sit and wait on the side. The passport remained with him. "He continued, "After about a quarter of an hour, three uniformed police officers arrived, talked to each other, looked in my direction, and after another five minutes, two more people in civilian clothes arrived and escorted me to an interrogation room. "The most senior of them told me, 'We are from the anti-terrorism unit. You have nothing to worry about. You are not detained. We just want to have a short conversation. You may go if you choose, but if you choose to go, we will detain you.' "They started by asking the usual questions again: Who am I? Where did I come from? Why did I come? Where do I plan to stay? What exactly do I plan to do? But then it took a left turn. "They started asking, 'Were you in the army?' Were you a combat soldier? 'I told them that I had diabetes and that I was not a fighter but in intelligence." They continued: 'Were you in the field?' I answered no, while it seemed to me that I already understood what they were looking to hear and what they weren't. They continued with questions about the visit, 'When you were in Israel, did you have any role in the army?' I answered 'no' to that as well." Neriya says that at the end of the questioning, they asked for proof of all his plans for the weekend, a return flight ticket, booking a place to stay, and a bus ticket to London. "They tried to be nice, and when the most senior of them left the room, the junior said to me: 'We don't have a problem with you, but because you come from this region, we just want to make sure. There are simply others who come here with other intentions, you know.' "The senior officer then returned to the room and said that I was allowed to go but that they wanted to check my bag first. Another policeman arrived and completely turned my bag over from end to end. He found nothing. Of course. In good time, after an hour, I was free again." Following the incident, Neriya addressed a letter to Israel's current ambassador to the UK Tzipi Hotovely and mentioned the similar case of Nova survivors, the Sharabi brothers, who were detained at Manchester airport about a month ago. He also mentioned that he is bringing his case from last week to the attention of the Foreign Ministry because, according to him, "If there is an instruction/policy/or even a local initiative by the border control officers to detain and interrogate any Israeli who is leaving military service or an Israeli who recently visited Israel. This is a disturbing phenomenon that Israeli officials need to recognize and deal with through the official channels."
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cc--2224 · 2 days
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I'll Show You Heaven
Pairing: Crosshair x F!Reader
Summary: Crosshair was always someone of interest to you, much to the other clones’ dismay. When he hears a Reg disrespecting you, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. You were told that there was no point trying to fix him, but you knew you could handle dangerous; although it turned out that to you, he wasn’t dangerous at all.
Warnings: This is very much 18+ Minors do not interact! Alcohol and smoking mentions; drunk clones being assholes including one putting the reader in a dangerous/uncomfortable situation but nothing happens! Smut - masturbation, Crosshair having dirty thoughts, oral (m and f receiving), biting/marking, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it!!, praise kink, one instance of Cross being too rough but he corrects it, porn with feelings, language, tons of compliments/pet names, jealous maybe slightly protective Crosshair
Notes: Very slightly based on the song I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)
Word Count: ~6.4k
Taglist: None, let me know if you'd like to be added!
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It was just another day. The haze of smoke lingering in the bar, the loud laughter and chatter amongst the patrons, and him. 
You had gotten to know most of the regulars at 79s, including Clone Force 99, but you never made it a point to become their friend. The clones, usually drunk, would flirt with you endlessly, but never the 99s. They kept to themselves, and you had learned over the months that they weren't very popular with the others.
You hadn't considered there were social hierarchies among the clones, but you supposed they were no different than any other group of people.
You traced the smoke back to the tall, silver-haired man. He sat at one of the tall tables, not quite facing the bar, but enough that you could see his sharp features silhouetted by the pulsing lights. 
He never looked pleased to be there, he seemed to have a permanent scowl, and you couldn't even recall a time where he said more than three words at a time, and none of them kind. 
And while these might be negative traits to most, but to you, these traits mixed with his deep brown eyes that you had caught on you once or twice, and the smirk that came along with it, the expression of an all-too-confident man, only helped to draw you in to him. 
You had a feeling that he was one to put up a front, wall himself in so that he didn't appear vulnerable. it made sense for a soldier, but there was a part of you that wanted to see what he was like when the walls came down.
"Hey! Cyar'ika!" You heard from behind you, you turned to face the clone holding his glass up to you. "You gonna give me a top up or stare at the reject squad all night?"
You rolled your eyes and turned to him too quickly to see the sharp glare of the man you were just staring at point at the rowdy clone. After refilling his glass, you set it down in front of him and gave him a warning, "Everyone is welcome in my bar, and everyone gets attended to while they're here. Understood, trooper?" 
Before he could answer, you walked toward the centre of the bar, making a point to keep an eye on all your patrons so they wouldn't also get the wrong idea about who was getting more attention. Your eyes naturally wandered back to where the 99s were sitting, briefly meeting with the same brown eyes you had been silently admiring just moments ago, the tattooed crosshairs outlining one of them perfectly. 
He turned his head back toward the rest of his squad but you could almost see him glance at you through the corner of his eyes at least once before you were called away again. 
"Y'know what?" The loud clone called out again, "I think you should just come home with me. I could make you forget all about them." He jerked his head toward the 99s. 
"And I think you've had too much to drink." You chided, ignoring his request for another top up.
"C'mon," He groaned. "If you're gonna cut me off, you should at least make it up to me. Wanna come home with a real man? I bet those 99s could never measure up to us if you get my meaning. Whattaya say, copikla?
Several clones laughed at his words, your Mando'a wasn't perfect, but based on their laughs, you assumed it wasn't nice. 
Before you could get security to kick him out, you heard a chair scrape against the floor and then the crack of knuckles on flesh. You didn't even see the tall clone cross the bar before he was laying into the loud one.
You ran out from behind the bar and tried to pull him back, as much as you didn't want to, you also didn't want him to be permanently banned either. 
Once he noticed you pulling his arm back, he stopped. 
"What's going on?" One of the security guards had come over, hearing the commotion.
"Nothing," you said before gesturing to the floor, "He had too much to drink. Best if he goes home."
The security looked at you carefully, making sure you were okay before helping the clone to his feet and walking him out of the bar.
You sighed and returned back to where you were standing before, watching the other clones glare but cautiously move out of the way of the 99.
He started walking back to his table before pausing and turning to look at you, his features almost seeming softer now. 
"You didn't have to cover for me." He said, a toothpick lodged between his lips.
You shrugged, "He was getting on my nerves, deserved the punch if you ask me. As long as you’re okay, I’m okay." You smiled up at him. 
You could handle yourself, you've been working at 79s for a while, you knew how unruly people could get when alcohol was involved, and as much as you could handle people yelling at you, you didn't like when your regulars hurled insults at groups who were just minding their own business. Especially when, to your understanding, they got enough of that back on their homeworld.
He hummed in response.
"Can I get you guys anything?" You asked after a brief silence had fallen.
"No, we're heading out. See you around." Almost on cue, the rest of his crew stood up and began to leave.
— — —
“You shouldn't have done that.” Hunter warned him quietly when they had returned to the Marauder.
Crosshair shoved past him to get into the ship.
“Regs will always take each other's side, if you get reported for starting a fight…”
“Again,” Tech chimed in.
“I'll deal with it if it happens. Regs are probably too drunk to remember anyway.” 
“Why'd you attack him, anyway?” Wrecker asked. 
His eyebrows furrowed, “Didn't you hear him? He was treating her like his little pet.”
The others looked at each other, seemingly sharing the same thought between them.
Hunter's voice didn't betray his thoughts, “Even still, you should go back and apologize. Probably scared the poor girl.”
Crosshair rolled his eyes at Hunter's order. 
“No promises.”
He went to his bunk and discarded his armour, laying on his bunk in his blacks. He couldn't seem to get your face out of his head. The way your eyes met, how you took his side even though his squad was right, he did start the fight. Your smile when you made sure that he was okay.
This wasn't the first time he had seen you, but it was the first time the two of you had ever spoken; he didn't do small talk, Hunter and Wrecker did.
But he wanted to talk to you again, he wanted to see you again, see you smiling up at him. 
The more you crept into his thoughts, the more he couldn't get you to leave. 
Eventually with the solitude of his bunk, his thoughts got the better of him. He imagined how you would look, naked and squirming under him. How you'd taste, how you'd feel around him. 
He couldn't shoo these thoughts away, he found himself palming his cock over his blacks at the thought of you taking it into your mouth. 
He had been with others before, but it was rare for him to feel like this. Usually when he’s with someone it’s just to get his own release, but thinking of you was different. He wanted to make you come, to hear you cry for him, to feel you come on his cock, on his fingers, whatever you’d allow. 
He wanted you, all of you. And he couldn’t stand the thought of some Reg pretending to flatter you just to get you into his bunk. You deserved better than that, you deserved someone who would treat you right, make you feel good, someone who could be good for you. Someone like him.
He reached his hand into his blacks, pulling himself out and stroking it. He let his mind continue to wander, imagining everything all over again as a loop. He thought of your voice, telling him how good he was, telling him how he was made for you, how no one else could satisfy you like him. He thought of marking your neck, your tits, your thighs. 
As he began to reach his climax, he stroked himself faster, he thought about filling you up with his release, he didn’t know where, whether it was your throat or your cunt, he just knew he wanted to come inside you. 
This thought sent him over the edge as he spilled out over his hand with a groan.
He knew it wasn't right to think this way, he didn't even know you, but he also knew there was no way for you to know what was going through his mind.
But would it be so bad if you did? 
— — —
Something about his expression when he finally came back to the bar was different than it had been a few days ago. Not bad by any means, just not how he normally looked. 
Part of it was likely due to the fact that he was in civilian clothes instead of his armour, nut most of all, his ever-present scowl seemed softer, and he didn't wear a smirk when he noticed you looking at him, instead he almost seemed nervous. 
He walked toward the bar and sat on one of the stools, scanning to make sure none of the gathering clones were the one from a few rotations ago. 
"Can I get you something?" You asked him with a smile.
He blinked like he still somehow wasn't expecting you to talk to him after what happened, but then shook his head. "No, nothing."
He sighed, looking down at the counter in front of him. "I wanted to..."
You looked at him, eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"My actions the other day, that wasn't okay."
Your face softened into a small smile. "Don't worry about it, nothing to apologize for."
"Did the Reg apologize to you?"
"Oh, no I haven't seen him, but like I said, nothing to apologize for. I'm used to it." You told him nonchalantly. His gaze snapped up to meet yours and his eyes narrowed.
"Used to it? Being drunk doesn't give them an excuse to be assholes to you." His voice raised slightly.
"Really, it's fine. I'm just sorry you had to hear him talk about your squad like that for so long."
He laughed quietly and used your words back at you, "We're used to it."
Neither of you said anything for a bit. You worked on pouring another glass for one of the other patrons at the bar and then turned back to face him.
"I see you guys around here often, but until the other day, you and I have never spoken, I'd like to change that.” your kind smile at him caused his heart to pound in his chest, but when he didn't answer, you continued. “You have a name, trooper?" 
"Crosshair." 
You smirked then told him yours. 
"Where's the rest of your squad today?"
"They stayed back, wanted me to make sure you were okay. But since you are, I should be going."
He was out of the stool and heading toward the door before you could convince him to stay. He needed to clear his head, it wasn't like him to feel so reserved and shy, but he felt your presence hammering on the walls he had built for himself and he didn't know if he was ready for them to come down.
You watched him as he left and smiled to yourself. Was he really concerned about your opinion of him so much that he came all the way here just to apologize? Or maybe he just wanted to make sure the other trooper kept his distance. Either way, seeing him was always a treat, and now you had a name to go with his face.
"I'd be careful of him." One of the clones said, pulling you out of your thoughts.
"What do you mean?"
"Clone Force 99 isn't known for following rules. They have the highest success rate out of any squad, but the way they complete their missions goes against most protocols we have. That one, Crosshair, he's their sniper, a dangerous one at that, and definitely not a friendly sort of person, someone you don't want to get on the bad side of. Not someone you can just fix with that pretty smile of yours." 
You listened to him as he warned you, but even still, Crosshair and his squad intrigued you. You wanted to get to know them better.
Crosshair had caught your eye from the moment you had first seen him, and now the gap between you was finally starting to close.
You wanted to be his friend, but you were also curious about being more than that. You wanted to see what he was like when the two of you were alone. Was he sweet? Was he demanding? Was he some mix of both? 
You wanted to know what his lips would feel like, what he would taste like, how he'd feel. Thoughts that sparked a flame in your core. You didn't know if you'd ever get an answer to any of them, but the world worked in mysterious ways.
— — —
Once everyone had cleared out and you got some cleaning done, it was finally time to go home. 
It was late, too late to be wandering around the understreets of Coruscant alone, but you knew the most direct way back to your apartment, and had a blaster set to stun, just in case.
You turned down the alleyway, and you saw a figure push itself off the wall and walk toward you. 
"Awful late, isn't it?" You could hear the faint accent of a clone, and the audible slurring of one that had too much to drink.
"Come on, copikla, let me walk you home."
He stumbled toward you. When he came into the light, you could see the black eye that Crosshair had given him, still purple and blue despite the days that had passed.
"I'm fine, thank you."
"Don't be like that, I wanted to apologize and do something nice for you. C'mon." He got closer to you and you felt your hand shake as you reached for your blaster.
"There's no need for that," He told you when you had the blaster fixed on him. "I'm not going to hurt you."
"Then go back to your barracks, trooper."
He smirked, "Y'see the other day, your friend from the reject squad, he gave me this-" He said as he pointed to his eye. "All because I gave you a compliment, so really, you o-" 
Before he could finish his sentence you saw a blue bolt whiz past you, hitting the clone and stunning him.
You turned to see where it came from and at the other side of the alleyway, Crosshair stood with a pistol drawn.
He walked toward you, "He hasn't had a very good week." He pointed out, looking at the clone on the ground before bending down to look at his armour, looking for his identifier.
"What are you doing?" 
"Getting his ID. He'll probably be sent back to Kamino for a while for breaking protocol."
He brought his comm up to his face. "Tech, I’m sending you coordinates and a trooper ID, arrange a pickup."
"Copy." You heard the distorted voice through the comm link before Crosshair began typing in numbers.
"You seem confused." He said, looking at you now.
"I thought your squad didn't care about rules and protocol."
He smirked, "Regs have been talking about us, huh? That's true, we do our own thing and don't take orders very well but.. we wouldn't put a civ in danger in a dark alleyway, he should have known better."
"Well, thank you for helping me, but.. how did you know I'd be here?"
"I didn't. After I left the bar earlier, I went back to our ship, but there aren't many places there to think quietly so I went for a walk."
"I see. I guess it's a good thing you were here. I have a blaster for my own safety, but I froze." You looked at the gun in your hand and sighed.
"Don't worry about it, the Coruscant guard will be here before long to deal with him.”
He turned on his heels and began walking away and you watched him before looking down.
“Crosshair?” You called out before he could get too far.
He turned to look at you again but didn't say anything.
“I'm not too far but.. could you walk with me? I just…” You trailed off looking at the stunned clone at your feet.
He walked back over to you, “Of course.”
He was silent for the remainder of the walk, but he walked with you to your door.
"Would you like to come in?" You asked as you punched in the key code.
"You sure?" 
You nodded and the door hissed open, you walked in, followed by Crosshair.
He looked around your place, it was small but it was inviting.
He knew he should have just gone back to the Marauder, but part of him wanted to make sure you felt safe, and another, much more hidden part of him thought that if you had invited him in, maybe his thoughts of you hadn't been as one-sided as he thought.
"Make yourself at home." You told him.
He sat on the small sofa in the living room, his arm draped over the back, and you stared at him, remembering what the clone had said at the bar. If Crosshair really was someone to look out for, you didn't see it. You would even go as far as to say that he was being kind to you. 
"Like what you see?" He asked when he caught you staring at him, his tone slightly huskier now that he was indoors. 
You rolled your eyes, and walked over toward the couch, sitting at the opposite end from him, but turned to look at him.
"What does copikla mean? I know cyar'ika and mesh'la because I get those a lot from the regulars, but that guy was the only one to call me that."
He looked at you and frowned slightly. "It means cute, but in a way you'd say to a child or a tooka kit, not a woman. That Reg wasn't paying you a compliment when he called you that."  
"I see. And that's why you jumped him?"
"I had enough of him long before that point, but yes."
You didn't notice that as you spoke, the more distance had been closed between you and Crosshair until your knees brushed lightly.
"What if it were a compliment?" You asked.
"I guess it depends on how you reacted, if you weren't comfortable." His eyes bore into yours now. "But you seem to like the compliments from the Regs." 
You shrugged, "As I said earlier, I'm used to it." 
His hand moved toward you, gently caressing your face. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips brush against your skin and you leaned into his touch.
"Would you react the same if I complimented you?" He asked, his voice a little more than a whisper.
"You could try." You answered. “See what happens.”
His hand traveled down to rest on the side of your neck, with his thumb stroking your jawline. 
He shifted slightly closer to you, eyes half-lidded. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were certain he could hear it with how quiet it was in the room.
Crosshair leaned over to you and looked into your eyes, looking for any hint of hesitation, and when he didn't find any, he pulled you into a kiss. It wasn't demanding, but it wasn't gentle either. You could tell that this is what he had been thinking about when he said he had to clear his mind. 
Neither of you had been sure if the other wanted this, but when your lips connected, you both figured it out.
His tongue pushed into your mouth and he swallowed the moan you gave when you tasted him.
His other hand had made its way over to you, resting on your waist. Your hands rested on his chest at first, but slowly wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.
He sat back to look at you, leaned against the arm of the couch, lips starting to swell, pupils dilated, and he smirked.
"You're beautiful." He told you. You knew he was trying to get a reaction from you, but his voice was sincere. 
You could feel yourself getting warmer, and your stomach beginning to coil with the dull ache you felt between your legs. 
You slid off the couch and gently took his hand, pulling him up with you.
He seemed confused for a moment, so you clarified.
"Figured you'd want somewhere a bit more comfortable."
His smirk returned, "Presumptuous of you."
"If I'm wrong, we can continue to sit here."
"Oh no, you’re not wrong. Lead the way, mesh'la." 
You had heard the Mando'a compliments so many times they didn't even feel like real words to you, but Crosshair saying it brought new life. 
When you didn't move, he leaned in to kiss you, but you ducked out of the way and began walking to your room.
He watched you walk away, slightly offended when you dodged his kiss, but that disappeared when he looked at your hips swaying, beckoning him to follow you. 
When you walked into your bedroom, you turned on the lamp beside your bed before sitting with your back to the pillows, watching the door for him.
He entered slowly and you finally took a good look at him. He seemed much taller in your apartment than he did at the bar. You eyed him from head to toe, feeling your core clench slightly when you noticed the raised outline of his crotch straining against his jeans.
"Come here," you said, your voice low.
He walked around to the end of your bed, crawling over you with one leg on either side of your ankles.
"Closer." You breathed. 
He moved upward, hovering parallel to your hips, eyes fixed on your core.
"Good boy,." You praised him. You didn't expect him to groan at that, but as if something ignited in him, he dipped down, kissing your stomach, then your hips, and moving down to kiss your thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, looking up at you to ask permission.
"Yes, please, Crosshair." 
He worked your jeans and panties off in one fell swoop, throwing them to a corner somewhere once they were off. You gasped when you felt his lips on your upper thigh, slowly trailing higher.
You arched your back slightly, desperate to feel him, but he smirked against your leg, biting into the soft flesh, before kissing the mark he had left. 
He moaned when he felt your fingernails scratch against his scalp, trying to guide his head when you needed him.
He left another mark on your other thigh before licking a stripe from that mark all the way to your centre.
Your back arched again, pulling his face closer to you.
"You like that, mesh'la?" His voice vibrating against you.
"Y-yes!" You threw your head back in pleasure when you felt his tongue circle your entrance before swiping up between your folds, tasting all you had to give him.
"G-good boy, keep... keep going." 
His hands found their way to your hips, holding them in place, you were certain that he was going to leave bruises on each one but you didn't care.
His lips clasped around your clit and he sucked so hard you saw stars, and then he went back to using his tongue, circling the bud slowly, trying to pull every moan from you that he could.
"Say it again." He said against your centre.
"Say what again?" You teased, knowing exactly what he wanted.
"Call me a-" He licked you up and down again, not finishing his question.
"Oh, you want me to call you a good boy?" You asked sweetly.
He rutted his hips against the bed as his tongue dove into you.
You cried out his name. The intensity of him drinking you up had begun to build and with it, you could feel yourself beginning to come undone. You were so close, you could feel your walls clench around his tongue, and he pulled it out.
You looked down at him in time to see his hand slide down from your hip, and he planted two fingers inside you, curling them against your walls.
"Go-good, you're so good, Crosshair, know just what I want." 
He groaned, grinding against the bed again before adding another finger, drawing a cry from your lips.
His thumb took over for his tongue against your clit as his long fingers worked on opening you up. He placed gentle, yet desperate kisses wherever he could, nipping at your soft flesh.
"Cro-Crosshair I- I'm so close."
He sucked another mark onto your thigh and groaned when he felt your hand tighten around his hair.
Your hips bucked as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your release.
"That's it, come all over my fingers." His voice coaxed you further, "Let me feel you."
His tongue went back to your center, working circles around you again as your walls continued to clench around him.
It didn't take much else to pull the orgasm out of you, you cried out his name as you came undone, legs twitching and hips bucking as he continued to work you through it.
He pulled his fingers out of you, and kissed your center once again before leaving a trail of kisses up toward your neck, slowly lifting your shirt as he went before it, too, was thrown into the corner of your room. He nipped and kissed the sensitive skin, leaving you another mark before kissing your jawline and lips once more.
He was perched above you, leaning on one of his elbows while he straddled your hips, his jeans doing little to hide the feeling of his stiffness pressing into you.
“How was that, beautiful?” He asked you, a smirk plastered on his face.
“Perfect,” you replied. “I think you deserve some attention now too, for being so good to me.” He bucked his hips involuntarily into you.
He brought his hand up to cup your face. His fingers still wet from your slick. He rested them against your lips before pushing them past. You moaned against his digits as he pressed them against your tongue, making you taste yourself. You circled each of his fingers with your tongue before sucking on them gently. He pressed his head into where your shoulder and neck meet as he reluctantly pulled his fingers out of your mouth, thinking of nothing else but how your lips would feel wrapped around his cock.
“Do you want me to fuck you, cyar'ika?” 
“Gods, yes, but first I want to taste you.”
His cock twitched against his jeans.
“I didn't know you could read minds.” He said, his voice low.
“I can't, I just know how I want to reward my good boy.” 
Before he could say anything else, he got up from you and sat back on his heels, undoing the button on his jeans, and unzipping them just enough to relieve some of the strain. 
You sat up and crawled toward him, resting your hands on his thighs, looking up at him for any sign of discomfort before you pulled on the waistband.
“You know, it's not very fair that you're so covered and I'm not.” You told him with a mischievous glint in your eye.
“No? Well, we can fix that.” He quickly pulled his shirt off before throwing it aside, revealing his toned chest. Your hands brushed against his abdomen and he sighed. You began idly tracing the outlines of his muscles and scars, and he took your chin between his fingers and tilted your face up to his, kissing you gently at first then with more passion. You felt him bite your bottom lip and you moaned into his mouth. Your hands glided across his skin before finding the waistband of his jeans again.
Without breaking the kiss, he helped you to disrobe him, and when you pulled down on his briefs, he sucked in a breath, feeling his cock spring free.
You looked down at it and instinctively parted your lips slightly, feeling your pussy clench around nothing in anticipation.
“You just going to stare at it all night?” He asked you.
You shook your head, “Can't wait to taste you, to feel you fuck my mouth.” 
You saw his cock twitch at your words and you looked up at him with a smirk. “Is that what you want?”
Instead of answering, he laced his fingers through your hair, guiding you down toward him. You were bent over, using your elbows for support with your ass in the air. 
“I could get used to this view,” Crosshair said. You didn't have to look up to know he was staring at your ass, but you pulled his gaze back to the back of your head when you kissed the side of his length. His breath hitched at each gentle kiss you gave him, and you heard him try to subdue a moan when you licked a stripe along the vein at the bottom all the way to the head, cleaning up any pre-cum that had already begun to spill out. 
“F-Fuck,” He sputtered.
You peered up at him through your lashes and his grip tightened around your hair, trying his hardest to not buck his hips and force himself into your mouth.
Your tongue swirled around his head before you took it into your mouth.
He whispered your name as he guided you further down onto him, and you took him inch by inch. 
You couldn't fit him all, you felt yourself gag slightly when he got to the back of your throat, which earned another moan from him, and you wrapped one hand around whatever had been left out. 
“Gods, you're taking me so well, wanna feel you gag on me again.” 
You moaned around him as he began using your mouth. He bucked his hips into you as he brought your head further down onto him. Your throat closed around him once again and you felt tears prick in the corner of your eyes. 
You ran your tongue across the bottom of him again, bobbing your head up and down on him, swallowing around him, sucking on him, all while he was bucking his hips into you.
His thrusts started to quicken, becoming slightly more erratic, and you gave a warning tap on his leg, you couldn't take him that quickly. He understood and slowed down.
“S-Sorry, beautiful, didn't mean to hurt you, I'm just getting close..” 
You removed your hand from the base of his length and gently caressed his balls as you continued bobbing on his cock.
“Gonna make me- I'm gonna come down your throat if you- if you keep that up.” He said between pants. 
You hummed around him and kept going. You felt him begin to tighten up and you could hear quiet curses fall from his lips. 
He moaned your name as your cheeks hollowed out around him. He stilled inside your mouth, and you felt hot spurts of him hit the back of your throat. You swallowed everything he gave you before pulling off of him, a trail of saliva keeping you connected to him for a moment longer before you sat up on your knees.
He was breathing heavily and when he looked at you, you could still see his eyes full of lust. 
“Cyar'ika,” He breathed out. “You are so incredible.” 
You leaned forward to kiss him before you felt yourself fall back onto the pillows with him caging you in with his arms.
His kisses were hungry, he pushed his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and you on your tongue. 
“Want to fuck you. Want to be so good for you.” He said almost into your mouth. “Want to hear you scream my name as I come inside you.” 
His words elicited another moan from you, and he took the opportunity to push his tongue between your lips again.
His cock began pressing into your leg as you felt him getting hard again.
“Crosshair,” you said quietly. He stopped and looked at you, afraid he might have crossed a line. “Lie down.” 
He got up from on top of you and rolled onto his back as you moved to straddle his torso.
You kiss him gingerly on the lips, and then his neck. You felt his hands come up and rest on your hips.
“You gonna be good for me?” 
He nodded quickly. You kissed the tip of his nose before positioning yourself above his cock. He bucked his hips once trying to close the distance.
“Patience.” You told him before sinking down on him.
Heaven. 
That was the only word that could describe how he felt inside of you. His eyes screwed shut, your tight walls felt like they were suffocating his cock as they fluttered around him and he needed to feel more of it. You threw your head back and he tightened his grip on your hips. You sunk yourself down slowly until he had fully disappeared into you. 
Once you had adjusted to how he felt, you moved your hips against him as you leaned over him, seeking out his lips. He kissed you back with fervour as his hands slid around to your back and he bucked his hips to meet your movements.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back up with you. His face was buried in your chest when you straighted your back, and you could feel his lips press against your breasts, and then his teeth. 
You moaned at the feeling, rolling your hips into him faster. His hands glided along your skin back to your hips. He held them tightly as he lifted you off of him slightly before shoving you back down. 
“Fuck, Crosshair!” You cried, feeling him even deeper inside you. 
He groaned as your walls constricted around him again, this time when he lifted you off of him, he had nearly pulled out completely before slamming himself back in. 
You panted out quiet curses as you tightened your arms around him.
“This okay?” He asked you as he did it again.
“Yes, gods, you feel so good. Want you to fuck me harder, feels so good.” 
You didn't need to ask him twice. His hands slid up to your back as he eased you down on the bed before putting his hands on either side of your head.. He used his knee to push your leg up, opening you up more for him. 
His slammed himself all the way in again, each thrust seeming to reach further and further. Your hands fell above your head and he used the opportunity to grab both of your wrists with his hand, pinning them above you as he drove himself into you again at a brutal pace, relishing in the way your tits bounced with each of his thrusts. 
“Gods Crosshair, being such a good boy for me,” you panted.
His lips landed on your neck, kissing you then biting you, leaving another mark on the soft skin.
“You're marking me up so well.” You said as he gave you another love bite just above the last one.
“Gotta make sure everyone knows that you're mine, make sure that trooper knows who you belong to.”
You arched your back with a moan, just as he thrusted into you. With his relentless pace, you knew you wouldn't last much longer, his words were only sending you further over the edge.
“Getting so close, Crosshair,” you said between thrusts. 
He answered by bringing his free hand down to rub circles around your clit.
“Come on my cock, wanna feel you come, wanna hear you scream for me.”
The coil tightened again, he felt your walls squeezing him and his breath hitched.
“I'm gonna come with you, angel,” He told you. “Tell me where you want me.”
“Inside, I want to feel you fill me up.” 
His grip on your wrists tightened as his pace with his other hand quickened, pulling moans from you with each thrust.
“Pl-please, I'm so cl- so close,” you whined, getting more desperate for your release.
He knew that he couldn't keep going for much longer as his thrusts became more erratic, but he was determined to wait for you.
Your moans grew louder and you clamped around his cock more with each thrust. The build up was getting to be too much, until eventually the knot in your stomach came undone, you screamed his name as your orgasm finally crashed over you. 
“That's it, just like that,” He said, his hand moved from your wrists to intertwine his fingers with yours as he thrusted as far into you as he could, spilling into you, painting your walls with his his release. 
You both stayed as you were, panting, looking into each other's eyes and then his lips came crashing down onto yours as he pulled himself out of you.
“You're incredible,” you told him, completely blissed out.
“So are you.” He buried his face in your neck, not moving from on top of you.
“Shower?” You asked, and he sighed and nodded into you.
“Please.” 
He got up off you and took your hand, waiting for you to lead him.
“I take it you liked the compliments.” He said, more of a statement than a question.
“Hm?”
“Unless that’s how you always act when a clone compliments you.”
You shook your head, “No, that was reserved only for you.” 
He had a smug smile as you began to walk to the fresher with him in tow.
“Can't wait to see what the others say when you walk into the bar, with my marks all over you.” He said, grabbing your hips from behind, pulling you back toward him.
“Well, not all over me, but there's still time, if you're good.”
You escaped from his grip and he all but dragged you into the refresher.
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rafesfavgirl · 3 days
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i just want to know — r. cameron
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another sad one bc i apparently don't know when to stop lol
❝ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man and i don't even want you back,  i just want to know ❞
pairing: ex-situationship!rafe x fem!reader
context: on the night of your 21st birthday, you run into rafe cameron—the boy who broke your heart.
words: 1.3k+
warnings: mentions of a toxic situationship, drunk!reader, word vomit, alcohol use, cigarette use, might make you cry, so much ANGST
you tumble out of the bar, your vision getting hazy from the amount of alcohol you'd drank, when two hands reach out to steady you.
"woah there, doll," the familiar drawl of his voice catches your attention, the alcohol haze fading for just a second as your eyes meet his.
rafe cameron.
"those are bad for you, you know," you point at the unlit cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth and he narrows his eyes at you, amused at your drunken state.
"and alcohol's not good for you either, but that didn't stop you, did it?" he kinks an eyebrow and you giggle.
"touché," you nod once and slip out of his arms to walk along the sidewalk, before slipping down against the brick wall of the bar to sit down on the concrete.
"alright, what are you doing?" rafe walks over to you when you begin unstrapping your heels from your feet.
"these shoes have been killing me all night," you complain, letting out a sigh of relief and tossing them off to the side.
"then why do you wear them?" rafe asks, taking a seat beside you.
"because they make my legs look hot," you say, causing him to chuckle.
he couldn't exactly argue. when the two of you used to go out, your legs were one of his favorite things about you—especially the way they looked wrapped around his waist.
"where are your friends, doll?" rafe takes the cigarette out of his mouth and shoves it into his pocket.
"don't know," you shrug. "making out with some guys, maybe?"
"and why aren't you?" he asks. "isn't it your birthday?"
that makes you snap your head towards him. "are you stalking me?"
"i-"
"i'm just kidding," you playfully hit his arm and giggle, causing him to shake his head at you, amused. "and to answer your question, i prefer to be single."
"oh?" his eyebrows raise, his blue irises boring into yours. "and why's that?"
"it keeps me focused," you say, pointing a finger at your forehead.
"focused on what?"
"school, college, my career…" you begin listing things off, and rafe listens intently. "i wanna be a doctor, you know. can't be out and about dating guys and getting my heartbroken."
"just 'cause you meet a guy in a bar doesn't mean you gotta date 'em," he reminds you. "don't you wanna have fun?"
"i tried that already, remember?" you allude to the situation you'd put yourself in with him a year ago, the alcohol clearly clouding your judgment—you'd never bring that up to him sober. "it didn't work out quite how i wanted it to."
a sigh falls from his lips, as he glances down. "y/n…"
"hey, can i ask you something?" you cut him off, and he picks his head up to look at you again.
"are you in the state to ask me something?"
"probably not," you shake your head, a smile on your lips. "but i probably won't get the chance to ask again."
"alright, shoot," he nodded.
you tilt your head to the side, eyes locking with his. "why did you end it?"
by the way his shoulders shift and his posture straightens, it was clear he wasn't expecting that to be the question. he always thought it ended amicably because you both agreed to it—or maybe that's just what he's told himself to prevent himself from feeling bad for breaking your heart.
"i mean, was it me?" you continue when he doesn't answer. "did i do something wrong? was i not experienced enough? did you just feel bad for me? what was it? cause i've driven myself crazy trying to figure it out and i just— i thought we were having fun."
you knew that you'd began to ramble, questions slipping out of your mouth with no filter, the alcohol winning over.
his eyes scan over your face, which looked to be in agony, your eyebrows scrunched and your eyes pleading.
"we were," he nods. "y/n, it never had anything to do with you."
"then why?" you asked, voice cracking.
the alcohol was now making you emotional, and there was no stopping it.
"why did you end it, rafe?" you poke a finger at his chest. "i thought you liked me."
"i did," he said, hand reaching up to push a piece of your back. "oh, pretty girl, i did."
his touch lingers for a second before it's gone again, and your eyes are welling up with tears.
"then why were there always other girls?" you ask, surprising him—he didn't know you knew about them. "if you liked me, why was there always someone else? why were you always with someone else when you weren't with me? why wasn't i enough for you?"
"i— i didn't think you knew about them," he admits.
"i pretended not to," you shrug, sniffling. "thought if i said something, i'd lose you. i mean, it's not like we were dating, y'know? i wasn't your girlfriend— it wasn't my place to tell you not to be with other girls. i just thought that if i'd stuck around long enough you'd realize that—" you stop and shake your head. "you know what, it doesn't even matter. it's not like it's gonna change anything."
well now, he felt like shit. you'd played it off so well when it ended—or maybe he was just too high to notice—but seeing you like this… he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't break his heart.  "i didn't know you cared that much."
"well, now you do," you tell him, before pushing off the ground to stand up. "and if you'll excuse me, i'm not really in the party mood anymore, so if you see my friends, tell them i left."
"y/n, wait," rafe scrambles to his feet, his hand reaching out to clasp around your wrist to stop you from walking away.
"what?" you turn to look at him, defeated. this wasn't exactly how you expected the night of your 21st birthday to pan out.
"i'm sorry, a'ight?" he drops his hand from your wrist, shoulders shrugging as his sad eyes met yours. "i never wanted to hurt you, i just— i wasn't ready."
"and that was fine," you tell him. "but you should've told me that. not pretended like you were taking me seriously when you weren't. i asked you so many times, rafe. and you lied, every time."
rafe sighs, hand motioning to you. "you were just so pure. perfect. i didn't have it in me to hurt you."
you scoff, head shaking as you eyes averted to the side. "doesn't mean you didn't."
"i know, i know," he closes the distance between you, taking both your hands in his. "and there is not a day that goes by where i don't kick myself for how horribly i treated you."
well, this was definitely news to you. when he called things off with you, claiming that it'd be too hard because you were going off to college and meeting new people, he made it look so easy. the words rolled off his tongue as if he'd said it a thousand times before. while you were falling for him, you were just another girl.
"i am so sorry," he says, eyes zoned in on yours. "the last thing i wanted was for you to feel as if you weren't enough for me. if anything, you were too much. and i mean that in a good way. i was too much of an idiot to see how special you were then."
though you'd waited for him to say those words the last six months, they didn't mean much to you now. you'd already come to terms with the fact that he just wasn't the one—hearing him say this now only provides you the closure you so desperately needed to move on for good.
"god," he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, and for just a second, you let yourself lean into it. "some guy is gonna be lucky as hell to get you one day."
"that guy just isn't you."
a small, sad smile forms on his lips, but he nods. "happy birthday."
y'all i think this one triggered something in me bc why tf am i crying rn 🌝
promise i'll start working on some cuter fics that aren't so heartbreaking!!!
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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tags: @chiaraanatra @ijustwanttoreadlols @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesgiirl @solanathascientst @10ava01 @werewhatkilledthedinosaurs @emotionsmgcbabe @outerbankspov @letmeintourheart @gublerstylesobrien1238 @deadgirlwalkingirl @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @jul1ettt @ihe4rttwd @samkickikc @ramblingsofadramastudent @maibelitaaura @vilentia
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p00pdev1l · 2 days
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sour switchblade
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A/N: aki hayakawa, the man that you are (insert ash baby reaction here) warnings: i mention smoking, alcohol, and hint suggestive situations. aki hayakawa x gn!reader (no mentions of pronouns), very short, i'm sorry, i just had to get it out of my brain.
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“How are you so good at this?” you asked in disbelief. A small smile crept onto his lips, amused by your surprise. He took a moment of silence to answer before simply shrugging in response, his cerulean gaze unwavering as he strategized his next move. 
“Just lucky I guess.” The sweating beer placed beside him was still filled to its top, any carbonation now at a dull simmer. With nimble fingers, he tossed the small hollow ball with barely any effort, making it into the last cup laid out on your side of the table, deftly finishing the game with another win, for the 5th time that night. The players across from you groan in defeat, Aki now turning his attention towards you. 
“I’m going to go outside for a bit.” He announced, but still awaited your acknowledgement, you could tell this setting was becoming overwhelming for him as a homebody. You gave him a quick nod in approval before his taller form carefully made his way past you, reaching into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes before disappearing further into the house as he cut through the crowd. Your close friends standing beside you couldn’t help but gawk at your effortlessly cool boyfriend. 
“Your boyfriend is hot.”, “Seriously! I’m jealous!”, “Does he have a brother–or a sister?”, “Where does he work?” You laughed at the series of questions. It was obvious their social filters were entirely subdued by the effects of alcohol. Yours unfortunately, in desperate need of liquid courage to feel even remotely comfortable divulging in such personal questions. “I’m going to need a drink before answering any of this.” you answer honestly with a smile, breaking away from the friendly integration. 
Heading back toward the beer pong table, you grabbed Aki’s untouched beer for your own. And upon your short return, your friends remained too distracted by their own discussion about your love life to acknowledge your company. You took this moment to break away, your eyes falling onto a familiar figure outside. Aki stood out on the patio, gazing into the night sky with a cigarette between his fingers, something he’d do quite often in seeking a moment of solace. You cut through the crowd with a soft smile at your lips, slipping outside to join him.
“Care for some company?” you asked as you pulled the glass door shut, sealing off the boisterous noise from inside. “Only if it’s yours.” gray wisps fell from his lips as he spoke, his eyes now fixed on your own. You tried to ignore the warmth spreading through your face, backing yourself against the patio railing leaning beside him. 
“I think my friends are in love with you.” you smiled to yourself, gazing past the reflection of you and Aki, watching your peers enjoying the ongoing party behind the secluded glass barrier. Aki simply scoffed, taking another slow drag of his cigarette. A comfortable silence hung between you two before he spoke again.
“Are you?” he asked with a small smile of his own. Your eyebrows furrowed at his vague question. Hearing the inquisitive hum that soon left your lips, he reiterated “Are you in love with me?” His eyes shifted to meet yours, your lips parted in response to the sudden attention of his intense gaze. The steady thrum of your heartbeat now rattling its cage behind your chest. You regained your confidence by rolling your eyes, gently pushing your shoulder into his.
“Something like that.” you responded, trying to carry a cadence of playful indifference, but instead nerves made your voice sound meekish. The hem of Aki’s lips formed another lazy smile, returning his gaze out toward the city. 
“That’s all that matters to me.” he let his comment sit with you before continuing the conversation, “What other questions did they ask?” 
“What do you do for work? If you had any siblings, if you are good with your hands–” your last sentence came out as a jumble of words, but Aki was quick to pick up on it, raising a dark brow in response. “If I’m good with my hands?” 
“Well, it was a question I overheard—but a question nonetheless.” 
“What would your answer be?” He asked curiously, pressing his remaining lit cigarette into the metal railing before tossing it into an ashtray nearby. You tilted your head in thought, Aki observing you from the side of his eye. “I’m not sure if I’ve experienced your hands enough to judge their talents yet.” you answered, a familiar heat rising in your abdomen at the idea of his wandering hands. 
“Do you want to find out?”
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divider credit: @/eloquentreverie
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