#but I’m just so sick of this. you people will never fucking learn. and you wonder why we still have to fight to exist.

[sammygender]

YALL ARE NOT SERIOUS PEOPLE no way i’m looking at the tumblr tag for spn 7x03 aka the sam centric flashback episode dealing with his childhood trauma and how he feels like he’s a freak and everyone is just posting about DEAN. dean and his stupid fucking pie. dean winchester used to be my guy! genuinely! s2-3 i truly thought i was a deangirl! But you people (plus this show atp lmfao) are making me hate him😭

#he was cute witn his silly pie. and i care for him and understand he’s grieving cas and thinks he’s about to lose sam and is therefore copin #Awfully and doing things like resorting to black and white john winchester embedded monster racism to do so #But thing is i’m actually getting pretty fucking sick of him coping awfully #he never learns he never grows he just gets angrier. he’s incapable of seeing sammy as someone whose decisions can be respected despite the #fact sam literally SAVED THE WORLD by SACRIFICING HIMSELF. #he just sits around and drinks and tries to become his father and avoid becoming his father in equal amounts #he’s actually awful!! sam goes off to do a case something totally justified (tho sure he could’ve asked) and dean fucking punches him in the #face… and somehow it just Doesn’t feel haha funny because its forceful and it’s serious and this is like the 3rd time he’s done this shit #and it’s also in the same ep where we see sams fraught relationship w john (Bc Duh) which is paralleled to the relationship amy has with her #mom where her mom fucking hits her. like. #dean winchester!!! when i find you!!!!!!!! stop recreating ur trauma!!!!!!!! stop taking shit out on sam :( #he cares sooooooooo deeply and it affects every fucking thing he does that’s why he’s so awful and why he cant cope #But guess what the same can be said about john winchezter the same can be said about a LOT of people. doesn’t excuse anything dean. GET YOUR #SHIT TOGETHER. #i love dean he’s vividly compelling to me. But. :/ #oliver talks #sam winchester

[starredforlife]

If you fucking morons cared one ounce as much for palestine as you do for this horrid little show.

#SO YOU CAN ORGANIZE. #i am sick to death of people who love media more than real human people #I hope this show gets erased from streaming platforms and I hope everyone who donated to this instead of relief for an ongoing genocide- #-never feels anything but a deep sense of shame forever #ofmd renewal #star’s stuff #dl #HOLLYWOOD PRODUCTIONS DONT NEED YOUR FUCKING MONEY. #I’m sorry but also like. people just around you are suffering to. can you imagine what this 20k would do for a local food pantry #*too #it’s not so much where people’s individual money is going but it is. it’s the priorities. it’s the effort. #somehow your entertainment matters more to you and this is what you prioritize #y’all are sick in the heart genuinely #you all need to grow up and learn how to write and draw for yourselves to make what you wanna see instead of wasting your fucking money #commission an artist or fic writer with this money. you are doing more to help a fellow human out that way!! #and you get it tailored exactly to what you want without doing the work #AN AVERAGE OF $33 PER PERSON. holllyyyyyy SHIT

[whataboutmysanity]

I’ve somehow hit the discourse of “I’m white and I know what rap is about 🤓” side of things and it’s reminding me of a guy i knew in high school reciting the importance of Fuck The Police to me as if I’ve never heard it before. Then he proceeded to play Tyler the Creator’s Flower Boy in full (the album had just dropped at the time) and go track by track on all the lyrical meanings and I felt like I was trapped in a Genius video.

My point is, trying to pull the “I’m not racist, I UNDERSTAND your struggles” is off putting imo cuz to white people can only understand to a certain degree. I’ve known white people who are these raving mad rap fans and then the second I start bringing up current black issues all I hear is “well, it’s just always been that way. What am I supposed to do about it?”

FUCKING GIVE A SHIT ABOUT BLACK PEOPLE EVERY ONCE AND A WHILE AND NOT JUST WHEN THEY DROP AN ALBUM!!! LISTEN TO THE BLACK PEOPLE IN YOUR LIFE TALK ABOUT THEIR STRUGGLES AND STOP USING THE VAST UMBRELLA OF RAP AS A LENS TO SEE ALL BLACK PEOPLE THROUGH!!!

The fact that we’re still at a point where even the “good guy” white folk think that because they heard a couple tracks and watched the This Is America music video once they’re the most perfect ally when that’s just not true.

#rap discourse #rap drama 2024 #fuck the police #tyler the creator #this is america #it’s so exhausting #trying to educate #white people #y’all can’t listen #cuz you gotta be right about everything #even the history you never learned #you don’t wanna hear black people #you just want to pretend to care #until the fad wears off #where’s the white rap fans at blm protests? #where’s the white rap fans who know the system is rigged and want to fix it? #i’m fucking sick of it #all this fake support #stop pretending to care #only when it fits your narrative #you people disgust me

[locrianking]

nothing pisses me off more than how figure skating reporters/news will constantly and intentionally leave out important details of stories in order to produce ragebait for people who don’t know anything about figure skating

#like i’m sorry but surya bonaly is NOT the hill you want to die on. #they banned backflips BEFORE SHE WAS EVEN COMPETING because guess what! #USFSA/ISU doesn’t want to deal with skaters breaking their fucking necks and dying on live tv! #or make young skaters feel like they Have To Learn how to do it and then fucking dying because of how INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS it is. #dont get me wrong figure skating is conservative and racist as fuck and surya bonaly faced some pretty horrific racism in her career #but banning the backflip had absolutely nothing to do with her and everything to do about not having skaters fucking die #also i’m not sorry but her edgework fucking sucked. like her jumps were incredible i can’t lie but her edges were. painful to watch at best #see also: everything regarding the sambo 70 and eteri #i am so sick and fucking tired of seeing people who don’t skate just hype up these incredible abused teenagers and hail them like gods #they don’t need fame they need HELP and eteri needs to be in fucking JAIL for what she’s done to SO MANY KIDS #i hope this sport gets more boring!! i hope i see less quads and less teenagers!! #what i want to see is competitive skaters who are still able to skate when they’re 25+ because their training was healthy and genuine #i want to see good technique and clean lutz edges and no full blade assistance on toe jumps bc thats what will save your joints #i want to see skaters with muscle and fat who have healthy relationships w/ food and their bodies and are stronger for it #this sport is so fucked. it’s a joke. i love skating but i wish i never had to interact with the community around it #ESPECIALLY those who have never gone through the sport themselves. stop getting off on abused children and start advocating for SAFETY #rosie speaks

[seventh-district]

*puts a photo of me in between two random photos i took of the sky today, not because they go together whatsoever but simply so any poor soul that happens to scroll across this post won’t be jumpscared by one giant image of me taking up their entire dash* :)

also yes those are the Everything Stays shoes that i wear far too often and i thought about Moon and flustered my damn self when i was putting them on today and if you want to know why i thought of him specifically… well, you’re just gonna have to read Ch. 4 of ES when i post it on Thursday and you’ll find out 😊

#Seven.txt #my face #i love how i use the my face tag as my catch-all selfie tag and then. you can hardly even see my face in the pics #anyways. *wears my daycare fit to my root canal appointment bc i am a fucking clown for letting my tooth get this bad* 🙃 #also it’s just very comfortable and i like it. but yeah! 4th dentist appt. out of 7 is done and dusted!!! #yes it’s 7 now instead of 6 because of course it is. of course it is. #it’s fine tho. i think today was the worst of it and it was overall a very fine time! i once again had no need for the sickening amounts #of anxiety that kicked my ass for the last two days prior to the appointment. as soon as i got settled in the chair that weird haze #of Calm washed over me and everything went well! but does my anxiety care about that? does it learn? no! never! #so i’m sure i’ll be sick with fear again the next three times as well but oh well. what can i do but suffer thru it #anyways if u wanna know what burning trees smell like and hear a disconcerting sizzling noise coming from ur mouth just get a root canal #it’s fun it’s a really great sensory experience (/i am Lying it is Not a fun sensory experience. take care of ur teeth and avoid the pain) #it’s lighthearted though it’s really not That bad. like i could tolerate it totally fine but it’s also not. fun. it’s just. Unplesant #anyways on another note i think i’m developing a crush on my dentist’s assistant lmao #like not Really but like also that’s not a complete joke. like. do u ever meet someone and just feel like you’d be friends #like it’s not something you’ll ever act on but you can’t ignore the feeling regardless? #it’s wild bc they look So fucking similar to someone i used to have a brief weird thing going with #like they both have such distinct eyes/facial features that i’ve never really seen on a lot of other people #and they compliment my hair and i compliment their tattoos and they tell me about the latest movies they’ve watched while i’m laying there #in the dentist chair for 50 minutes waiting for the dentist to finish with an unexpected drop-in patient #and they open the blinds to see what the deal is with the screaming old people outside the windows and they crack jokes and ramble about #their travel plans and they struggle to mix the temporary filling paste into the right consistency and they apologize for their handwriting #on the appointment cards they give me and i tell them it’s good handwriting and i mean it and Oh No i’m romanticizing my dentist visits. #aren’t i. lmao ANYWAYS i’m that dumbass that falls for every single person that is ever nice to me at all ever it’s fine i’m normal #the dentist delay was nbd btw i’m one of those freaks that actually enjoys waiting and also it was a bit of an emergency #for this mennonite mom and her son with an abscessed tooth so like who could be mad abt that #i’m never making another afternoon appt. again tho cause holy shit they get busy. i was in the waiting room for 30mins alone #1hr appt. turned into a 2.5hr appt. :) but it’s fine i just read fanfic on my phone to pass the time. and you’d think it was a dca fic #based on my clothes but no it was BG3 Astarion x Reader Hurt/Comfort bc i’ve latched onto a new blorbo this week and can’t get enough #so i’m obsessed with this traumatized vampire elf now but that’s a story for a different post’s tags

[samuraisharkie]

I’m gonna be honest I’m seeing the top gun posts and I want to reblog them but I am just. Too goddamn tired for this exceptional bullshit rn. I cannot fucking believe y’all are “fandomizing” racist military propaganda. they’re not allies. you people realize that right? i don’t care what gay subtext they put in their movies. they don’t care about you and they are actively working to erase your freedom to be who you are, and ur encouraging it bc you care more about ur fake worlds than the real one. one day ur gonna pull ur head out of the computer once and for all and go ‘this is horrible! when did it get this bad! how can we fix it?’ but it will be too fucking late for you because you willfully pushed reality away to waste time actively encouraging the destruction of people’s lives. i don’t want t see any of y’all campaigning for overseas countries or even against the police while you’re defending this sort of movie. because clearly your allyship is only words and nothing more. you don’t care about anything but your white fantasies and daydreams where you never have to worry about anyone other than yourself. if I see one of you morons talking about “acab” or how much damage america has done in Iran and Palestine, I’m going to make it my life goal to make you regret it, bc your words are empty. 90% of you think being queer or what have you makes you automatically immune to being bigots and that you don’t have to do shit in terms of reparations or activism, but it’s the exact opposite. you people stick your head in the sand, close your ears and scream, and hold your breath until you pass out instead of confront the fact that some media is made only for the purpose of propaganda and harm of marginalized peoples, no matter how many queer couples are in it. like top gun, like first kill, like our flag means death, like the umbrella academy, and so on. you people are the reason why our oppressors are bolder than ever. you will walk willingly into their open maw and shut down all those trying to stop you, and you’ll make sure you take as many down with you as possible. I can’t wish enough suffering upon you for the betrayal you lay on those trying to stop the destruction, because unlike you, instead of shrugging our shoulders and going ‘eh, the world is on fire anyways, I’m looking out for number one’, there are those who care about the world and the people in it, the world that makes it possible for you to continue living ignorant and selfish, who want to continue living in this world and helping others live together to because even if we can’t reverse the damage of the fire, as long as we’re still standing we can put it out and help the wounds heal. there are those of us that care about real people, not your military bigots who you only pretend to hate when another gruesome massacre manages to come to the surface of the public consciousness. I’m tired of you people betraying every supposed ideal you say you fight for the moment you have the opportunity to smother yourself in more mindless and harmful indulgence. It would be one thing if you even admitted the media you consumed was harmful, but you won’t even do that. You can’t even do that. Because that would mean acknowledging the real world and the real people who are affected by your ignorance and that’s just “not fun”. I wish all of you the violent fear and pain you afford others with your willful ignorance and vitriol.

#long post #top gun #I’m sure this is a whole lot of nothing. I’m tired and I didn’t mean to go this long #but I’m just so sick of this. you people will never fucking learn. and you wonder why we still have to fight to exist. #I don’t even know if I said any of this properly #I’ll probably delete it later I’m just so frustrated #yeah it is that deep. you guys are just racist and bigoted traitors. #this sounds like a straw man argument were there not numerous examples of the ‘you’ I address here #yeah I’m putting this in the tag I hope it ruins y’all’s day. #if you try to fight me over this I’m screenshotting your name and message and publicly humiliating you and then blocking you btw #there’s nothing you can say that will ever defend your atrocious behavior

[fvckmyaesthetic]

#can’t sleep. feel sick. feel empty and sad all the time. say i’m lonely and then purposely avoid talking to people #like genuinely. wtf is my problem dude?? #i feel so tired and let down by everyone and everything all of the time and it’s like? #shit ain’t even that bad in the grand scheme of things. but I really still just wish I could get a ‘break for once’ #why am I so stuck on the ideas of certain people who will never be the way that they were when I actually knew them #and why can’t I just be upfront with people about how I feel. so many ppl think so highly of me for Who Tf Knows Why Honestly #and it’s like. for the love of god please just go find someone else because I Promise you that I’m not going to magically fall in love + #+ with you someday. I have too many fucking problems as it is that I couldn’t even stay with my lady gf for more than a few months #why can’t I just get my shut together Jesus is it really that hard?? #if I’m tired and sad then why do I stay up? why wouldn’t I just go to sleep. all I’m doing by staying awake is making myself feel WORSE #and I already feel bad enough as it is. everyone is moving forward with their lives and I’m just sitting here #No fucking clue what I’m doing. no one to talk to. i swear all I want is a good hug sometimes and I can’t even fucking get that #how hard is it to just ask someone for a hug and I can’t do even that?? #please tell me I figure my shit out soon and learn to talk to other people because I’m so tired of forcing myself to be so alone all th #e time. i spend so much time awake at night and for what? so I can just make myself feel sad and lonely and anxious? #yeah well I’m tired of it. I’m tired of being awake and alone and not having anyone to talk to because I push everyone away

[allofuswantgwinam]

idk how we’ll ever have peace in this world when everyone just wants to retaliate with violence for everything. ‘It happened to me so I want revenge and idc if any innocent people get hurt/murdered in the process” I want fucking out lol of this world I am so serious

#I am disgusted by humanity every single day #this shit is FUCKED. it’s fucked. #we are all fucked #the masses do not care about things #the masses likes to live blindly #or “not my country not my problem’ #or as I stated before I keep seeing posts from people in Israel who are like ‘I was blah blah blah by hamas’ #‘everyone should die in hamas bc im upset’ ‘bad things happened to me so it should continue to be a cycle and never get better’ #that’s what they might as well fucming say #and it’s more than just that. everything. people want fucke duo things to happen to others bc it happened to them #isn’t that some fucking shit #and there’s so many things that make me upset #it feels impossible the more I look into things #and observe people and learn #im disgusted #don’t even come for me to argue bc im not arguing #all everyone does is argue with eachother and be mad #im fucking tired of it #until we listen and understand eachother as a whole.. we’re just fucked #can’t convince me otherwise #im gonna keep going and all that bs but I’m absolutely defeated by the world rn #shit is ridiculous in so many ways #im also not saying someone shouldn’t be upset about what happened to them #I just don’t understand why the fuck you would want it to keep continuing #shameful #this isn’t fixing anything. people are dying. innocent people. #im sick of this repetitive bs of a sick world we live in #im only 25 #I am not excited for my future #I do t even wanna bring a child into this world

[atsevenseas]

tag drop — muses

#no one bad is ever truly bad and no one good is ever truly good / judah #not all who wander are lost / levi branigan #she wasn't looking for a knight she was looking for a sword / katherine delaney #some old fashioned things like fresh air and sunshine are hard to beat / cory moon #find your fire and be a warrior / flora #be careful who you trust salt and sugar look the same / maksim toussaint #people don't have to like you and you don't have to care / ruben allegri #the past is frozen and no longer flows and the present is all lit up with eternal rays / blake westbrook #I just need someone to say fuck it this kid deserves a chance / eskil forsberg #art is chaos taking shape / yun chan #don't take criticism from people you wouldn't take advice from / sasha kim #I am a question to the world not an answer to be heard / echo #you cut out a piece of me and now I bleed internally / taylor gabinsky #I’ve never had anyone’s approval so I’ve learned to live without it / mika #I wanna be alright I wanna be okay I’m sick of the nightmares and bad days / river odell #she sparkles like sunshine / sunny hayes #you always have something to sing about / cleomeine #the path that used to be familiar it’s now unfamiliar / minjun #we must make the best of those ills which cannot be avoided / kacey kim

[ziracona]

The Darkness really is the best song in the show.

#not musically. like as far as sheer Song goes it’s probably It Was A Shit Show or something but for like. emotion and rarity? I’ve never #ever seen someone confront that really ugly side to mental illness and it’s done so well. like yeah. it can become your identity to be ill #and you can fear losing it and it becomes a parasitic relationship that’s killing you and that’s not good and it’s hard to talk about — #almost impossible. because like. you /know/ how bad ‘what if without this I’m not interesting anymore and people have no reason to worry so #they have no reason to care about me’ is as a statement like that’s fucked up to think and feel. but it’s also not malicious or really you #it’s a part of being sick and people who haven’t been don’t understand it which makes it scary to try to confront and best because it makes #you sound so horrible—it makes you sound horrible to /yourself/ and that makes it hard even for you to confront it alone because you have to #admit it to kill it. I got so sick when I was dying of an ED and my brain got so fucked I began to believe with intense primal terror that #it had become so much of my identity nobody would care about me without it. which makes no sense but to a dying addicted head it did. and #I’ve never seen someone confront and discuss that ugliness so openly or so sympathetically at the same time. the line ‘for so many years ive #used the Darkness to feel. But now there are things in my life that are actually real. I’ve got to make a choice darling don’t ask me why. #But will I have the strength? to tell the darkness…goodbye…’ I cry. #it applies to a lot under that. to trauma associated with social neurodivergence where you learn to fear feeling happy as a kid because you #get loud or too much or things you don’t understand enough to not do them so the only way to be safe from repercussions is to not /be/ happy #in the first place. it applies to having clinical depression you’ve survived alone since childhood and your way of making it through life is #so intrinsically tied to coping with depression you have no idea what you’d be without it. it’s learned self-hatred of a cluster B needing #to hate themself to keep back the world flooding them when they feel at risk by doing it first #and it’s not pretty and it’s not easy but it is so fucking important people admit this is such a fucking common thing with serious mental #illness. how are we to get through self hatred and hopelessness and despair if we can’t even see the things we think are too bad to face are #as common a symptom as cutting? and just as curable and forgivable and not representative of who we are #god I love that song #crazy ex-girlfriend

[darklordofthesimp]

Anything (König x Reader)

The 1st instalment in the Anything-Verse

Main Masterlist

Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

Like the characters? Read their fics below!

Sunshine Masterlist || Saint Masterlist

Series Summary:  A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper.

A/N: I have no idea how we got here

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?

Warnings: Graphic description of violence || Graphic description of injury || Graphic language

“You’re a liability.”

The words rang like a church bell. You were never one for petty violence but in that moment, after he’d so calmly said the words, you thought that you just might kill him.

“A liability?” You hissed, glaring at your superior like he’d grown two heads. “I’m a sniper, Sir, not a fucking ninja.”

The captain simply shifted his weight lazily, unfazed by your temper. He’d dealt with it many times throughout the years but it hadn’t bothered him because you weren’t inherently his. You were somebody else’s spitfire, under another unit’s command; but now you were part of the 141 and you needed to learn.

“Come on, Birdy. You know I’m right.”

Birdy.

You had Soap to thank for the name. ‘Snipers and birds both shit on people from above’. It wasn’t creative and honestly you could have thought of one hundred better names to offer, but once Ghost started addressing you by Birdy, it was set in stone.

When you said nothing, he continued.

“You can’t fight your way out of a wet paper bag,” he scoffed, swallowing a snort when your eyes widened. “Sniper’s need to defend themselves too, Birdy. You learnt that the hard way, remember?”

How could you not?

The knife wound had healed but the memory of it had not. Images of the hooded man wedging a blade into your shoulder flickered across your vision. Fists bearing down onto your jaw. Fingers wrapped around your throat.

A chill skittered across your skin.

“So, what’s your suggestion?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

When the corner of Price’s mouth quirked upward, you’d already begun to regret asking.

“Simple, really.” He shrugged, “someone’s gonna train ya.”

Your stomach dropped and a cold shiver traced the length of your spine.

“Who, Sir?” Your voice was barely a whisper. “Ghost��s not here. Everyone’s on leave.”

Price smirked.

“Not everyone.”

___

You felt nauseas.

Anxiety had your stomach in a death grip, and it was all you could do to not throw up. Pacing up and down the gym mats, you tried to cool your nerves.

There was only one person that had remained a complete anomaly to you and now he’d been given literal permission to beat the shit out of you.

Training.

You remembered what they loved to call ‘training’ at your old unit. You’d never been the fastest or the strongest, that was not your job. You were the one who could take make an impossible shot a kilometre away, but that’s not what ‘training’ entailed.

Your body ached at the memory.

There was a small noise by the doorway and your body stiffened. He was letting you know that he was there, his equivalent of a knock.

You both knew that he could have had you on your back whenever he pleased.

“König.” You acknowledged him as confidently as you could, turning to face the beast head on.

The giant stood in the doorway looking like the fucking bogey man himself.

“Birdy,” König inclined his head. Those dark, watchful eyes observed you from beneath his hood, taking in your visage. Heat licked the back of your neck and you began to sweat under his gaze.

He was clad in his usual getup from the waist down, the tactical cargo pants and the hefty boots being his barracks favourite. It was the hoodie that had caught you by surprise, you’d seen it a few times in passing, but up close it rendered you breathless.

“I didn’t realize you were staying with the 141,” you said, swallowing nervously as he stepped into the room, ducking his head to avoid hitting the frame above.

This was a sick, sick joke.

“My transfer was approved,” was the only explanation that he offered you.

You knew, logically, that what had happened between the both of you had been a misunderstanding. It was a communication failure on behalf of the brass that had almost gotten you killed but the idea of working with him, training with him, made your stomach drop.

König’s hands got to work removing his gloves and the memory of those fingers wrapped around your throat made you flinch.

You’d set up a sniper’s nest atop the rooftop, watching the entrance of the building the 141 was infiltrating. They were going to flush out the target and send him running right into your line of fire.

No-one had been informed of KorTac’s involvement.

You’d heard König before you’d seen him, the dismantling of your trip mine giving you enough indication to roll onto your back to investigate. By then, he was already upon you.

You’d kicked the rifle from his hands but that was where your advantage finished. He’d dragged you by your ankles from your weapon, straddling your flailing body as he got to work. The knife he’d brandished stabbed into your flesh violently, and at first, you’d thought he only punched you.

Until the searing hot pain bloomed across your body and blood sprayed across his hood.

Those emerald eyes were wild and hard as he gripped your face over your balaclava. You couldn’t think to react, dizzied by the agony of knife he twisted into your skin. His palm covered the entirety of your features, fingers tight against your temples as he pulled your head forward then smashed it back into the concrete.

You thought your skull had exploded.

Fists ploughed into your jaw but it was as though you were numb now. Finally, his fingers were drawn to your throat, squeezing tightly as he leaned in. The cloth of his hood brushed against your battered body, filling the space between you as his lips pressed against your ear.

“Your fight is finished,” he hissed heatedly. Then König pressed down into your skin.

You don’t remember what happened afterward. You knew that he’d been called off by his chain-of-command just in time to stop himself from ending your life, but that was according to Soap.

You were in a coma for two weeks.

It took you months to recover.

And only once you came back to work, fit to fight and ready to go, had you discovered that König had applied to transfer into the 141 shortly after the incident. KorTac had offered him up to fill in your position while you recovered.

Not only had the bastard nearly killed you but he’d taken your place.

Now that you were back, he would lose his place as a sniper and be back to running with the team on the ground.

König watched you carefully from where he stood.

“You’re my instructor,” you said plainly, stating the obvious. “Price made you my hand-to-hand combat trainer.

“Ironic, isn’t it,” his voice came quietly from beneath the hood, a small snort following in suit.

You would have laughed had you not been so fucking terrified. You were about to take your place back on the team, a position this giant clearly wanted and now he was given the chance to put you back into the hospital with no questions asked.

You wouldn’t be able to do anything against him. König was a mountain of a man, a force to be reckoned with, and while he tried to make himself as disarming as possible it was implausible to hide that frame.

“Did you want to get started?” König asked, leaning his hip against the table beside him. He was so casual for someone who had nearly killed you.

“No,” you said simply.

“Are you not up for this?” König ventured carefully, pushing off the bench and taking a slow step towards you. Your heart thrashed against your ribs at his approaching figure and you forced yourself to stay still. “You still have bruising-“

“That’s what happens when someone shatters your fucking face, cunt,” you snapped, casting your gaze from his. You were hoping that he wouldn’t bring it up, everyone had danced around your condition for so long. No one spoke about how fucking ugly you looked as you tried to recover.

“It was an accident,” his voice was hard, almost bewildered at your sudden aggression. “We both paid the price for someone else’s mistakes.”  

“Don’t talk to me about paying the price, you fucker,” you snapped, shoving against his chest. König yielded a step and it infuriated you even further to know that he’d allowed it. “You got the fucking job you wanted, you got the transfer you wanted, you got the training you wanted. Didn’t you?”

“Yes, but-“

“You wanna know what I got?” You snapped, shoving him harder this time. König’s eyes narrowed and he snatched your wrists, holding them against his ribs to stop your assault. You continued anyway, walking his body backward until his heels hit the wall. “I got put into a fucking coma.”  

König’s gaze softened, his chest heaving beneath your hands. You could feel his heart pounding beneath your fists, you could hear his breaths grow ragged.

“I know,” he murmured, his fingers tightening on your wrists. “I was assigned to watch over your bed for those two weeks."

You stared at him for a long moment, sniffling and gasping for air after your rant. König lowered his head and his grip loosened.

“What I did to you…” he trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. How ugly must you have become that he couldn’t withstand looking at his own handiwork?

You turned around, hiding the hot tears forming along your lashes. You were so fucking ashamed by the terror gripping your throat, embarrassed by how much your image affected you. You hated feeling disgusting. You felt like everyone’s eyes were on you at all times it was suffocating you, they gawked and stared and whispered about how your 'pretty face was ruined.'

You began to understand why people wear masks.

“You ruined me,” you rasped. “And I couldn’t do anything to stop you.”

König was silent from behind you, mulling over your words. You couldn’t bring yourself to be embarrassed by your outburst. He had stabbed you, shattered your skull, broken your nose and jaw and nearly snapped your neck- he deserved to listen to you yell at him at the very least.

Fingers slid over your shoulders, slowly turning you around to face him. You tugged against his hold half-heartedly, vision swimming beneath never-ending tears.

“Look at me, Birdy.” His voice was soft and pleading, his hand slowly moving to cup your bruised jaw. You froze as he manoeuvred you, forcing you to face him square on. König slowly lowered himself to rest a knee on the ground, leaving him still taller than you but closer to eye level.

With the hand that was free, he reached for his hood. You swallowed nervously as he carefully pulled it from his head, resting the cloth on his upright knee.

Dirty blonde hair lay splayed across his forehead, the length curling by his ears. Dark brows framed the emerald gaze that watched you intently, taking in your visage as you observed him. All of him.

The scars caught your attention.

Winding from his upper lip, across his eye and leaving a line through his brow, the winding length of damaged skin presented itself. There was another scar along the bridge of his nose that travelled across the width of his cheekbone and into his hair.

“Do I…” König trailed off, full lips parting as he mused over his next words. You stared in awe at the innocence of the freckles smattered across his features. “Are you afraid of me?”

You said nothing for a long moment, mesmerized by the features of a man that had haunted your thoughts for months. He’d been the centre of your existence for so long, the reason you ached and the reason you’d bled. König had plagued your every waking moment ever since the incident, and now he knelt before you. He was on his knees baring his vulnerabilities to you, knowing you could destroy him with it.

“Of course,” you whispered; your voice shaky as you met his gaze.

König’s expression became pleading, “then let me teach you how to beat me.”

His thumb lightly caressed your purple cheek, brows furrowed as he took in his handiwork. “Let me pay for what I’ve done by teaching you how to never let it happen again. And when you finally beat me, revenge will be yours and you may do as you wish.”

“Anything I want?” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

A wry, sad smile pulled at the corner of König’s mouth.

“Anything, mein vöglein.”

My little bird.

____

Next Chapter

#könig x reader #konig x reader #könig mw2 #könig modern warfare #call of duty #mw2 #cod #konig call of duty #konig x you #König x you #konig headcanons #konig mw2 #call of duty x reader #cod x reader

[abbyshands]

more nerdy abby please

nerdy!gf!abby headcanons

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

a/n; well, yes! how could i say no to that? <3

pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader

warnings; use of princess/angel/baby, abby coaxes reader on her period, implied strap-on, praise and a little degrading, cunnilingus, fingering, implied brat x brat!tamer dynamics (?), scissoring

P.S.; please look at the below links to learn of ways that you can help the people in gaza, and how you can learn more about this ongoing issue overall. please don’t stay in the dark about this: like each post, reblog them, etc. if you like my work, then i am asking you to take the side that i’m on. i will be linking all of these resources in each post from now on. free 🇵🇸

LINKS: ways you can help | 🇵🇸 masterpost | MORE ways you can help | places to boycott, and families you can help escape | learn more

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

♡ fluff

♡ nerdy!gf!abby who is a biology major, planning to work as a doctor, and she freaks out whenever you get hurt. it could be the smallest of bruises and she’s there with bandages, wrapping you up, cleaning your skin, or whatever the case may be. there are times where she’ll scold you like a parent for being reckless, rattling off each and every fact she knows about the “delicacy of the human body,” as she calls it. “it’s like you do it on purpose, princess,” she grumbles, but you know deep down that she’s never really mad at you.

♡ nerdy!gf!abby who not only cares for you when you’ve got a cut or bruise, but also when you’re sick or on your period. it’s one of the only times she’ll drop all of her work, but then again, you’re the only person she’d ever drop her work for. if you have bad cramps, she’ll come to your dorm and cuddle with you, ensuring that you’ve taken medicine and are using a heating pad to assist with your cramps. she’ll spoon you from behind as she rubs your abdomen—where they usually are—whispering sweet things to you as you squirm in discomfort. “it’s okay, angel. it’ll pass. you’re okay.”

♡ nerdy!gf!abby who does her homework while cuddled up in bed with you. it’s amazing how she can do it, papers in her hands as you lay across her lap, or are cuddled up into her side. she’s managed to find a good balance in doing the work she’s meant to be doing while also ensuring that she isn’t ignoring you. you’ve fallen asleep numerous times to abby playing with your hair, and the sound of her scribbling away on her papers as she does so.

♡ nerdy!gf!abby who messages you during the day, a lot, just to check in on you on a regular basis. it’ll be small things, but it makes you feel cared for in every sense of the word. “did you eat today, princess?” “how was class, angel?” “feeling okay?” and if not: “do you want to come by my dorm? we can talk.” and, every single day, she will message you this one: “i love you.”

♡ nerdy!gf!abby who worships you like a goddess. she tells you how gorgeous you are on a daily basis, making sure you know how much she sees you for who you are. she loves every inch of you: your face, your eyes, your lips, hips, thighs, all of it. there’s not a thing in this world she doesn’t love on your body. “prettiest girl in the world,” she’ll say, and, if you’re feeling insecure, “what do you mean? you’re a real life princess, angel.” she’ll let you know just how mesmerizing she thinks you are with no shame.

✮ smut (18+)

✮ nerdy!gf!abby who loves to look you in the eye while she fucks you, but prefers to take you from the back. she’s obsessed with the way you whine and moan her name when she pulls your hair, not too hard, while she pounds into you from behind. “that’s it, princess. know you love when i fuck you like this, don’t you?��

✮ nerdy!gf!abby who praises you a lot, no matter if she’s behind you, on top of you, below you, it doesn’t really matter. she’ll tell you how much of a good girl you are, how well you’re receiving. “there you go, angel. you’ve got it,” she’ll coo, along with, “good/pretty baby. you look gorgeous like this.” her ways of worshiping you will never not come into the bedroom. “you take me so well, angel,” is also one you hear very much.

✮ nerdy!gf!abby who is a giving girl at heart. if there’s one thing she’ll spend the rest of her life doing, it’s eating you out, just to see that look of pure bliss on your face when she does it. she’ll kiss and bite up your thighs before she begins, leaving hickeys on your skin. then, she attacks your cunt in an almost ferocious passion, devouring your pussy like she’s running out of time to do so. she always feels herself get wet when she’s got you arching your back off the bed, whimpering prayers, and whispers of abby’s name. her glasses fog up during it all, and are always covered in your arousal and release by the time she’s done, but she never cared at all for that. she’s skilled in what she does, using her fingers to curl inside your g-spot while her lips attack your clit, easily getting an orgasm out of you each and every time.

✮ nerdy!gf!abby who isn’t big on degrading unless she’s praising you and degrading you in the same sentence. “my pretty little slut,” “you’re my good whore, aren’t you,” and “you’re my whore, d’you hear me? mine.” she doesn’t like to degrade you because she genuinely feels you’re too precious for that, her baby. so, she only does it like this, and the reason she does it at all is because you’ve told her that you like it. however, she can get just a little mean if you’re being a brat to her. “don’t give me that attitude, princess,” “you’re too pretty to be a brat,” and, “don’t test me, baby.”

✮ nerdy!gf!abby who loves scissoring with you when you’re on top of her. the way you rub your soaked pussy onto hers, grinding your hips on her lower body like the needy girl you are. she loves to watch you fuck yourself as her own climax builds inside of her, and it feels nice to not have to do the work for once. she can get a little whiny herself when she feels your clit rub onto hers, grabbing your hips as she moans loudly. “f- fuck, baby, that feels so good. keep going. don’t stop,” and, “you like this? you like riding me, hm?” she also firmly believes that your bodies were made to fit like this from the beginning, and she always tells you that during it all. “my cute girl. you’re just for me. no one else makes me feel this good,” and “made just for me, princess? yeah, i know you were.”

└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘

reblogs are very much welcomed <3

———

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #the last of us smut #tlou2 smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson the last of us 2 #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #tlou abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson fic #abby anderson headcanons #tlou abby

[kentolove]

“dump your bf if he’s never given you flowers before”

He tries to console himself.

Really, he does.

He tells himself that it’s really not that serious, and all you did was like a tweet saying to dump your boyfriend if he’s never given you flowers before.

Has he ever given you flowers?

He thinks of your one month anniversary, then your six month, then your one year, then your two year anniversary, and how none of them were spent with a beautiful flowery confection in your hands.

He recalls your first date, how it was spent inside a small cafe where you both spilled your hearts to one another. He knows he never bought you any flowers. Yamaguchi proposed the idea, but he quickly shut him off with a, “what kind of bullshit is that? It’s only the first date, that’s too… romantic, I guess.”

Fuck, he should’ve listened to him. Yamaguchi is never wrong. Never.

He’s learned his lesson now.

The next time he sees you (an excruciating ten minutes after he’s seen your liked tweet) he sits you down on his lap.

“What’s this for?” You smile, and it’s that pretty one that nearly makes Tsukishima melt down to the ground.

“I have a question.”

“Okay,” you grab his cheeks into your two palms and squish his face together. He normally hates the action and immediately pushes your hands away, but he doesn’t have time for that now. Not when you’d break up with him for not buying you flowers.

“Would you ever break up with me?”

Your head tilts to the side in genuine confusion. Break up with your Kei?

“Don’t think too much into it.” He flicks your forehead gently. He can already tell your train of thought, and how you tend to overthink every detail of your life, so he slows your brain down.

“Uh, maybe if you cheated on me? But I think I’d kill you before I broke up with you, yeah.”

Okay. Yeah. He’s fine with that answer. He can live with that.

Maybe he can’t.

It’s been nearly a month since he last asked you that question, and it still haunts him to this day.

He thinks that maybe one day you’ll come home and tell him that you’re sick of him, that he doesn’t deserve you, and you’ll pack all your bags and leave.

It stresses him out so much, that he vents. He vents. To Bokuto Kōtarō of all people. (He’s gone mad!)

Bokuto does the most Bokuto thing you’d expect, and gives Tsukishima the most obvious answer.

“Well why don’t you just buy them flowers then?”

“It’s not that easy, dumbass.”

“I think it is… I mean, you’re sad you haven’t bought them flowers, so buy them flowers. Problem fixed.”

He leaves the conversation utterly dissatisfied. Until the next day, at 3AM, Tsukishima Kei has a eureka! moment.

“I’ll just buy them flowers!”

(He jolts out of bed with a force so strong that he wakes you up.

You groan, sleepy and with drool at the corner of your mouth, “what are you yelling for? Go back to bed, Kei.”

“Yeah,” he whispers, to nobody in particular, “I’ll just buy you flowers.)

He leaves the house that morning, at around 9AM with a mission in mind. He’s going to the flower shop.

-

Tsukishima enters the small store with hesitation, staring at all the beautiful plants and flowers with skepticism. Which ones would you like? What if you’re allergic to the one he picks out?

“Hello? How can I help you, sir?” A nice lady with a baby pink apron approaches him. She smiles, and Tsukishima thinks he’s being far too dramatic. It’s just some flowers.

“Uh, I’m looking for flowers that send the message of ‘I love you’ or something like that.”

The lady smiles even brighter.

-

Your boyfriend walks into your home with a bouquet of red roses and baby’s-breath blooms. The arrangement is huge, big enough to cover the entirety of your Kei’s head.

“What’s this?” You ask, when he approaches you and places the roses on your lap.

“They’re for you.”

“Really?” Your eyes are as bright as he’s ever seen them, as dazzling as the sun in the sky.

And he can’t believe that he’s deprived himself of this. Of seeing you so happy over something so mundane—so simple—that your eyes shine brighter than all the lights in the night sky.

He loves you. And you love your Kei. (And those red roses, too.)

#sum sweet for the fckn kids idk #I haven’t written in so long??!!! #I have no clue if this is good? it’s kind of different than what I usually write #more dialogue based than I’m used to #mine #tsukishima #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima imagines #tsukishima drabbles #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima fanfic #tsukishima angst #tsukishima kei #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons

[sc0tters]

Littlest Hughes - Mark Estapa

summary: when a game of beer pong turns interesting you learn to realise that your brothers friend isn't so bad after all.

trope: forced proximity

warnings: sexual themes, p in v (unprotected!), underaged drinking, swearing, fingering.

word count: 3.67k

authors note: to the people that remember when this idea came out in like November, thanks for being patient cause Mark and the beerpong fic are now here! everyone thank @hischierhaze for making this one come out long before she was actually intended to be here for you all. if you want to look at more of the 500 celly then you can do so here!

You swore you hated him. 

It was the idea of having someone you couldn’t stand in the slightest. The kind of person you couldn’t even be in a room with as you just wanted to gauge your eyes out. Someone who made you feel so irritated that the mere thought of them had you getting angry. 

Now you have weren’t entirely sure why he pissed your off in the ways that he did. But as Mark seemed to hate you just as much as you hated him, you were never going to be in a rush to improve your relationship. Yet the problem arose when he instead opted to get close to your brother, Luke. 

The boys were teammates and it was enough to make your whole family agree that your negative relationship with Mark wasn’t enough to stop him from being invited to the lake house. It was Luke’s first summer as an NHL player and those friends from college were the very men that Luke missed so much. So being the best younger sister that you were, you agreed to bite your tongue. 

That’s how you landed up spending a week with his closest friends and for the most part you were having a good time. 

“God you are such an ass!”

Key word, for the most part. 

Mark smirked as he held your top over his head leaving you in nothing more than your blue and yellow bikini “you and I both know that those aren’t the right words.” He teased continuing to lean up each time you reached for the baseball jersey “I will kick you Estapa stop being a dick.” You spat as you crossed your arms sending him a glare. 

Before Mark could respond Luke walked into the room “bro could you not leave my sister half naked?” Your older brother gagged as he shook his head “till next time kid.” Even though there was less than two years between you both Mark still loved that nickname. 

So as he dropped your shirt in your hands you couldn’t help but scowl at him “fuck off.” You growled pulling the shirt over your arms “you wanna go on the boat you two?” Jacks offer pulled your attention away from the boy as you nodded “sounds great!” You nodded leaving the boy alone as you went to be in peace for the next few days.

You weren’t a hockey player, it wasn’t your thing but what is your thing is beer pong. Yet unfortunately for you it seems that the only person worthy of being your opponent was Mark. So that was how you both ended up being the last ones left in what felt like the longest game of beer pong that anyone had seen “you two see an end in sight?” Quinn groaned as he looked down to his watch when he let out a yawn. 

It was this endless back and forth where you would each win a game and would then refuse to let them take it and that’s how you ended up at 12-13 with the only rule that to be crowned champion you’d have to win by two games “you ready to give up?” You sent the boy a glare as it only made the Michigan player laugh “just when I thought you could have been stronger than you actually came off.” The compliment was backhanded as Mark laughed. 

The boys responded with groans as the idea of this game continuing made them all feel sick “I’m going to bed.” Quinn announced as he shook his head “me too.” With that boys went in groups as your constant bickering got tiresome. 

Seven games had gone on and the new score was 16 all and you were just as irritated now as you were then “could you hold off on killing each other until tomorrow?” Ethan asked as he let out a yawn “want to watch it happen.” Mackie laughed as he nodded in agreement only going quiet when Luke sent them a glare.

Your brother rolled his eyes as he placed his hand on your shoulder “please just let him win so you can both go to bed?” Luke mumbled hoping that you would agree “never.” You grumbled as you refused to give Mark that kind of joy. 

So of course things continued and you guys were left alone but not before Luke kissed your head “now you don’t got your big brother helping you out.” Mark teased as he got the ball between his fingers as he lined up his shot. 

Mark smirked as he saw you pull your hair into a hair tie “tryna distract me with your skin?” The boy mumbled seeing your collarbones pop through the red cami vest that your were in “cause it’s not gonna work.” He added making you laugh. 

It was a hearty one as your teeth caught your lower lip “please the mere thought of tits are gonna have you not seeing straight.” You pressed your hands against the table exposing your body more to him “you wanna bet?” Mark made little effort to ignore the white lace that so clearly stuck out of your top. 

He took your silence and furrowed eyebrows as curiosity “winner takes all this game.” The hockey player offered making her scoff “higher stakes though as we’re now doing strip beer pong.” His offer was only met with the sounds of your scoff.

You crossed your arms as you couldn’t help but send him a glare “you just want to see me naked.” You rolled your eyes not wanting to give into him “don’t flatter yourself princess you aren’t my type.” Mark shook his head as he wasn’t interested in you like that “but if you are scared you’re gonna lose then I can accept-” you couldn’t even let him finish his sentence. 

“Throw the damn hall Estapa.” 

A scoff left your lips as you watched him go back to angling the hall and of course it just had to land in the beer “should we go with your shirt or your shorts first?” Mark teased as he watched you hook your fingers into your shirt before you pulled it over your head revealing the white bra you loved so much as it had a little golden v in between the wires to compliment your skin “not bad.” The boy mumbled to himself as he had seen you in less before but never in something with lace. 

You took your cup and brought it to your lips letting the unsweetened liquid hit your tongue as you chugged it back not caring at the amount that dripped down your chin “what?” You asked dropping the cup to the ground as the boy looked like he was watching a dream “nothing.” Mark ignored how your lips were wet and the top of the lace of your bra as getting soaked as beer dropped down your chest. 

Of course your ball went in and off went his shirt, it was followed by your shorts and then his. Until eventually you were both only on your undergarments “need some help getting that bra off?” Mark joked as he watched you reach behind your back but not before you flipped him off. 

The idea of anyone being able to come down at any point didn’t seem to bother either of you as you clicked the clasp of your bra letting it fall down your arms as the cool summer night air made your nipples harden “you really do have secrets Hughesy.” Mark felt his mouth water as his eyes were drawn to the sparkling titanium bar that was pierced through your left nipple “shut up.” You grumbled as you attempted to ignore the way his hardening stare made you feel. 

As you potted your final ball it left the boy having to discard of his boxers “don’t bother with those.” You mumbled leaning down to grab your bra from the floor “would hate to see what isn’t there.” The claim was a total slap in his face and you knew what you were doing as you aimed to piss him off. 

It infuriated Mark with how well you knew to get under his skin “please you’d be lucky if I fucked you.” You began walking over to him as your bra was thrown onto the table “Mark I don’t think you even know how to make a girl come.” You shot back as you pressed your finger into his chest “I’d have you struggling to walk tomorrow.” Mark shook his head as he wrapped his hand around your wrist pushing your hand away from his chest.

This was the closest you had ever been to him before as his eyes pierced yours “I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on this planet.” You laughed as you turned to walk away but the boy was quick to pull you back “so if I felt those pretty little panties would they be dry?” His voice was barely a whisper as he walked you back against the table until you were finally sat on it.

Your eyes were wide as you shook your head desperate to not give him the enjoyment of seeing that he had indeed won “be as dry as the desert.” You spoke through gritted teeth almost squealing as Mark dug his fingers into the skin of your hips “you gonna let me test my theory then?” He asked dropping his head to the point where his lips hovered over yours.

All you could do was nod as you before his lips were on yours. It was messy as your hands your tugging through his hair like you didn’t want him to ever leave you “fuck.” He grumbled feeling your teeth sink down onto his.

It was like you knew what you were doing as you smirked “even as I’ve got you ready for a good fuck you’re still acting like a fucking brat.” The college boy growled pinching your chin between his fingers as he clenched his jaw “what are you gonna so about it?” You sent him a smirk as you swore that if this was a battle, you were winning it.

Mark spoke to himself under his breath as he dropped his head to your jaw as he began planting kisses on your skin “shouldn’t even fucking treat you well.” His voice sent shivers through your ears as he continued dropping his lips down your chest “saw you looking at it.” His eyes locked onto your breast “you can touch it y’know.” You teased tugging your fingers through his hair making him groan in the process. 

He wasn’t going to be told again as he latched his lips around your pierced nipple as he groaned swirling his tongue around the piece of jewellery “fuck.” You swore trying to shut your legs to relieve the tension between your thighs “you still think that I can’t make you feel good?” Mark brought his hands down to your legs making you shiver as he forced your legs open. 

You chewed at your lip watching him get closer to the pool that had formed in your panties “when I speak you need to answer me princess.” You swore the hockey player growled as you nodded “know you can’t.” The tough facade you had up was hanging by a thread and it only grew weaker with how his hands grew closer to your core.

A gasp left your lips as his hand cupped your core “fuck!” Your moan was swallowed by his lips “you little liar.” Mark clicked his tongue as a wet patch formed in your panties “please.” His thumb pressed against your clit where it drew soft circles.

Your head dropped against his shoulder as your body grew soft “what do you need pretty girl?” Marks voice was soft as he left a kiss on your forehead “you.” You croaked out as he toyed with your panties finally pushing them to the side. 

Mark teased you as you shook your head “want more.” You whimpered looking up at him with a pout “please.” You begged edging your cunt closer to his fingers “didn’t know that all I needed to do was fuck you to get you to shut up.” Mark sighed as he teased your slit. 

His fingers took their time plunging into your cunt “god!” Your groan was swallowed by his hand “you want your brothers to hear how much you enjoy my fingers fucking your pussy?” The hockey player rasped into your ear as you shook your head. 

His fingers were thick against the walls of your cunt as he curved his fingers into a come here motion “they can’t.” You mumbled growing panicked as you were reminded of how all three of your brothers were upstairs “then keep those pretty little lips shut if it’s not gonna be too hard for ya?” Mark tauted you as you mewled under his attention.

You clenched around him as you nodded finally going quiet “like having you all quiet now.” As you tilted your head up trying to bring your body closer to his Mark took the opportunity to nip at your neck “no!” You gasped as he inserted a third finger not caring about your protests. 

Mark smirked as he didn’t care “think you’re in a place to make the demands?” He scoffed as he clicked his tongue “thought you were smarter than that.” The hockey player teased as you pouted “the boys are gonna see.” You complained as his eyes sharpened. 

Somehow the words made his whole demeanour change “you worry what those boys are gonna think of you now?” Mark spat as he increased the pace of his fingers as he fucked your cunt “like you really gonna now care about them seeing you like the slut you’ve become f’me?” He added standing up straight as he glared at you. 

Your lips remained sealed as you tried to writhe your hips against his hand “remember pretty girl you answer me when I talk to you.” The hockey player warned “I’m your slut.” The words came from your lips as it made him grow surprised. 

The words made his cock grow hard against his boxers “you happy to see me or what?” You smirked feeling it press into your knee “think I need to fuck this behaviour out of you.” Mark grumbled pulling your panties down your legs as it hooked around your ankles. 

You had finally pushed Mark to a point where he had snapped and he wasn’t ready to come down from it yet “fuck I don’t have a condom.” The boy complained as he hadn’t exactly thought that having sex on this trip was on the cards for him “on the pill.” You shook your head offering a counter point that he gladly took. 

Being a hockey player you weren’t surprised that his cock was on the larger side of big but you had to admit that your mouth did water when he retracted his fingers from your cunt to pull his boxers down letting his boner hit his pelvic bone “you still sure that this is what you want?” Sure Mark thought you were still irritating but the even with that irritation he still believed in consent “please.” You whimpered as you bit down on your lower lip watching in awe as he pumped his cock a few times before he tapped the swollen head on your clit coating it in his precum. 

There was a moment between you both that if you weren’t still so buzzed from the alcohol in your system you would have sworn that there was something that could have mirrored something romantic between you both. His lips were soft on yours as his cock slowly creeped into your cunt letting your walls stretch to accommodate him “fuck you’re perfect.” Mark gasped as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder as he kept himself from coming on the spot. 

He had a few moments of just staying there with his cock frozen before you finally cleared your throat “need you to fuck me Mark.” You coughed out as the boy turned his face to look at you “please.” You didn’t need to ask twice as he nodded letting his hands grip at your hips as your legs locked behind his hips. 

Even as you were outside with the breeze your skin felt like it was on fire when his eyes pierced your gaze “how many guys you let have this tight little cunt of yours?” Mark made little effort to try to avoid the fact that he was jealous of his own question when the idea of some other guy fucking you came into his mind. 

As his cock throbbed in your core you struggled to stay focused “j-just t-tw-two.” You stammered falling over your words as his thrusts became deeper “and did they make you feel this good?” Mark swore that the image of you beneath him struggling to even shake your head as your breasts bounced with each thrust that he made, would he engraved in his brain forever. 

The first time you had sex was in high school when you lost it to your boyfriend of two years and you were both virgins. He came within a couple of pumps of his cock and left you there frustrated and alone as he went to shower only handing you a wet cloth before he shut the door behind himself. The other was a jock that was only sleeping with you to get the attention of an ex so the moment she came knocking on the door he went running back to her. 

So if you truly thought about it Mark was your first time, not the embarrassing your overly awkward one. But your first time where you knew he was confident in what he did “didn’t come.” Even as you barely whispered those words Mark still heard you and he couldn’t help but smirk. 

If anything Mark took that as a reason to quicken his thrusts as he watched your eyes roll back “gonna make you feel so fucking good then.” Your brain fog made you wonder if he was merely thinking aloud or actually talking to you “and to think that you really put up that whole act before?” The hockey players teasing tone had you clenching around him as you propped your hands up behind you to stop you from falling back. 

His hand took the opportunity to slide between your bodies as he found your clit “you’re so fucking pretty when you’re so cock drunk.” The compliment came with a groan as he began toying his thumb over your clit “not gonna last.”

You warned not caring who heard your whimper that echoed from your chest.

Mark felt his thrusts grow irregular with how you cunt squeezed his cock with the new pressure your clit felt that had you wanting to press your thighs together “go make a mess doll.” There came the softest of the pet names from the night as he kissed you lips letting his hunger and pure desire to be the first guy that has you coming on their cock, take over his mind.

All that was left for you to do was listen to him as your lips let out a gaspy moan “holy fuck!” You swore as your eyes screwed shut letting white specks scattered themselves on the backs of your eyelids like stars in the night sky “breathe through it.” Mark cooed helping you on as the movements of his thumb combined with the thrusts of his cock lulled you through the brunt of your orgasm that had your legs shaking against his hips.

Before Mark could let his orgasm take charge he slid his cock out from your cunt making sure that you had come before that and he replaced the walls of your cunt with his hand “wha-” you grew confused at his abrupt movement “oh baby you have to work for me to come in you.” He grunted watching the warm sticky ropes shoot onto your stomach. 

It made you whimper as you watched almost hypnotized by the sight “next time if you aren’t a fucking brat I might let you get it properly.” The hockey player explained tapping the head of his now soothing cock on your clit letting what was left in him ooze onto your slit “that was.” Your chest heaved as you swore that you had just had the hottest experience of your life.

Mark laughed as he nodded “I know.” He pecked your lips as he reached down to where your panties had fallen to and made the effort to slide them back onto you but not before the hockey player kissed your lips “think it’s time for you to go to bed.” A yawn left your lips as you nodded at his words. 

He finished dressing you and even opted on helping you up the stairs before he left you tucked into your sheets where you nuzzled your head into the soft pillow “maybe you aren’t that bad Hughes.” Mark mumbled feeling his heart grow full at the sight of you blissfully drifting off to sleep. 

But as he let your door softly shut after him it would seem that nothing would actually ever truly change between you both. Because at the end he was always going to be your brothers friend who pissed you off, and well you were always meant to be Luke’s hot sister.

Yet the true test that would come after this was when Mark would have to realize that you weren’t his, no he wasn’t good enough to get that right to have you under his arm at every event on campus. Instead he was destined to watch other guys fill that role one you finally grew into a more confident state. 

“Since when has Rutger had a thing for little Hughes?”

#mark estapa smut #amber writes fics #ambers 500 celly #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #umich smut #umich imagines #hockey smut

[loveinhawkins]

When Eddie’s terrified, he feels cold—and it’s not a mild thing, not just goosebumps on his arms. It’s violent shivers: his breath catching as ice forms in his lungs, crystallising up his throat until he can barely talk.

It was bad at the middle school talent show: stuck in the wings with fellow students pressed up against him, all jostling for space. He should’ve been sweating.

And technically he was, but it was as if his brain hadn’t checked in with his body or maybe the other way round, and he kept biting down hard on his tongue as his teeth chattered.

A teacher noticed and even asked if he was feeling sick, if he wanted to be sent home.

He shook his head, felt his legs shaking; Jeff had to speak for him until it was finally the band’s turn on stage, and the ice thankfully thawed enough for him to sing.

But right now he thinks the ice is here to stay.

He’s sat back in the boat, the tarp tangled up by his feet; he can’t stop one knee from bouncing up and down erratically. He knows he isn’t really shaking because of the literal cold, but it doesn’t exactly help that it’s damp as hell in here.

He’s not alone—he’s still surrounded by quite possibly the most random group of people in history. Dustin’s leading the conversation, which has devolved into Max teasing him about some girl called Suzie.

Eddie suspects the change of tone is deliberate, that these kids who are somehow well-versed in a literal fucking war have an admirable intuition; have sensed that he needs a cool down after learning about an evil alternate dimension. Kinda like what he does if he watches a horror movie late at night—makes sure to read some light-hearted crap before he goes to sleep, so the scary shit isn’t the last thing on his mind.

Eddie appreciates the thought. If he wasn’t still repressing shivers, he might even find it sweet.

But the chatter isn’t helping.

He can’t grab a hold of it, the sounds slipping away before he can make sense of them; his mind keeps drifting away, and he’s suddenly stuck on the thought that he can’t remember what Chrissy’s last words to him were. He can hardly even recall what her laugh sounded like in the woods—like everything about her has been trapped underwater, stifled beyond all recognition.

He let her die, and he can’t even manage the decency of remembering her. What the fuck is wrong with him?

He exhales shakily. Neither Max or Dustin seem to notice, which both relieves him and sets his teeth on edge.

His lungs are tight, but he still feels a sudden urge to talk—for once wishes that he’d just bite his tongue instead.

Something’s cracking deep inside him.

He’d thought his breaking point had been reached long ago, but it keeps getting worse; as the kids talk, he can’t avoid the fact that they’ve already watched him profoundly lose it, and shame spreads from the pit of his stomach—merges with the ice, culminating in a bitter wave of self-loathing.

Leave me alone, he desperately wants to say, but he knows it’ll just come out in a scream, knows it’ll sound like he’s furious. That’s always been the way of things, at least for him: deep-seated fear hiding underneath anger.

He opens his mouth. His teeth are clacking together.

He manages to temper the feeling right at the brink so that all he says is, “D-don’t you assholes have a bed time?”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Dustin says, over the sound of Max scoffing.

Please go, just fucking go, I’m gonna fall apart and I don’t want you to see it, not again.

“Yeah, well I have a bedtime, so let’s get outta here, dickheads,” Steve says.

He sounds dry, borderline snippy. But his eyes fleetingly meet Eddie’s as he speaks, like he’s heard him somehow. Like he understands.

Dustin stands with some customary grumbling, pulling Max up with him.

“Night, Eddie. It’ll be okay,” he says, so optimistic—with an unshakeable courage that Eddie has never once possessed.

Eddie attempts a smile. Has no idea if he succeeds.

Robin’s already standing, walking off behind Dustin and Max—but then she spins, doubles back on herself; Eddie jumps at the sudden movement.

“Water!” she says, “I’ve got some in the car, you should—hang on, Eddie.”

“I’m—I’m fine, I don’t need…” Eddie’s voice is hoarse, fades out on him. He coughs, tries again, slightly louder, “I said I don’t need it!”

But Robin’s already too far away to hear him.

The quiet rustle of a jacket: Steve is still here.

Eddie lunges forward as quick as he can. His hand clasps around Steve’s wrist.

“Harrington, seriously, tell her not to bother, man. I’ll—” He swallows. “I’ll just throw it back up.”

It’s almost too dark to see, but Eddie swears Steve’s eyes are flickering over his face. He doesn’t know what he’s seeing. Doesn’t think he wants to know the answer.

“Dude, you need to drink, at least,” Steve says finally. He gently tugs himself free—stepping back with an apologetic air, slowly enough that Eddie doesn’t startle. “Gimme a sec.”

He’s back in under a minute, passing Eddie a bottle of water with the cap already off.

Eddie drinks. Despite his protesting, he knows it’s for the best; his head is pounding. He spills the water more than once; his hand is trembling.

Steve doesn’t mention it.

“I can get you some food,” he says.

Eddie shakes his head. “I ate before. Not hungry.”

He’s telling the truth, although he can’t remember what he ate. Can’t remember much of anything.

Steve doesn’t look very happy with that response. His frown is audible when he asks, “Don’t you have a blanket or something?”

Eddie laughs, horribly false. “Why, Harrington? Wanna tuck me in?”

Steve doesn’t answer.

Eddie wants him to retaliate with what he deserves: cutting words. Wants Steve to throw out something cruel, then leave him be.

No. That’s not…

He wants… he wants…

“Don’t move,” Steve says. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie laughs again—a little more genuine. “Can’t exactly go anywhere.”

He doesn’t know how long Steve takes. He loses track of time after the sound of the car reversing fades away; the darkness stretches out before him, and his fingers flex, tremulous, and he almost starts to believe that no-one’s found him after all, that he’s alone, that he’ll always be—

The soft crunch of tires rolling over gravel. The twin clunks of a car door being opened then closed, not too loudly, followed by even footsteps. Slow. Safe. And Eddie hears Steve singing, quiet enough that he can’t really decipher the lyrics.

He doesn’t know why he recognises it, why it’s so familiar. But he understands why Steve is doing it, the realisation burning in his throat: that Steve is signalling his approach, so Eddie knows it’s him.

“Hey,” Steve says, and there’s a gentle kind of thud—something being dropped by Eddie’s feet. Then the soft press of fabric behind him: a pillow.

Eddie manages to shift his feet a bit. More fabric. It’s a blanket.

“I just thought, like, two layers, y’know?” Steve is saying. “Not ideal with the tarp, but it should trap more heat compared to…” Eddie’s throat tightens even more. It’s so… so fucking kind.

“Thanks,” he manages.

“Hey,” Steve says again, softer—a hand lands on Eddie’s knee; his palm is warm. “You’re okay.”

Eddie realises belatedly that he’s crying again. For a little while, it just feels automatic, as if he’s detached from the tears; Steve gives him space, working around him.

And Steve’s not tucking him in really, just sort of shaking out the blanket, but he lets it fall with intention—smoothes out the creases when it gathers around Eddie’s knees.

Eddie doesn’t know what changes, just knows that he’s abruptly aware of the silent tears building into something more. There’s a false jagged sensation of something getting caught in his chest as he swallows, and he gasps, inhales sharply—once, twice; feels that panicked stutter to his breath, like when he was a kid failing at treading water.

Steve crouches by the side of the boat.

“You’re okay,” he repeats. He’s rubbing his throat ever so slightly while he says it—doesn’t seem aware that he’s doing it.

“I’m s—” Eddie chokes on the words again, a distressed hum cutting through instead. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Eddie, it’s—”

Eddie points to Steve’s throat. “C-could’ve—mm, mm. Could’ve been bad.”

He remembers the feeling of Steve’s skin against the shard of glass, remembers his stupid shaking hands—so close, too close to blood being spilled.

Just a hair’s breadth away from…

It could’ve happened so easily. Two deaths on his conscience.

“Eddie,” Steve says calmly. “It’s fine. I wouldn’t have let you.”

It’s not a threat. It’s a reassurance.

His hand falls away from his neck, as if making a point.

Eddie stares and stares—and it’s definitely too dark to tell if there’s a bead of blood on Steve’s skin, but his mind does the work for him.

Vivid, wet. It wouldn’t stop. Chrissy. Her eyes…

The ice freezes over completely, stops up his throat.

Eddie can’t breathe.

“Yeah, you can,” someone’s saying, “hey, it’s gonna pass, it’s gonna pass, okay? I’m just gonna…”

A snap.

Eddie flinches, cries out with a wordless noise of anguish.

Through the roaring in his ears, he hears, “Shit,” before a contrite whisper of, “Sorry, sorry.”

Steve. Steve’s here, guiding his hands until they’re cupped around something.

Something warm.

It starts the thaw, draws air back into Eddie’s lungs. His head clears a little. He knows where he is. Wishes he wasn’t…

He wants someone to tell him that Chrissy didn’t suffer, that she didn’t feel anything.

No.

He wants someone to wake him up, to tell him it was just a nightmare, that he can go home; he wants the universe to rearrange itself so that Chrissy never even met him—that the only trouble she ever has to deal with is which shoes to wear with her graduation robes.

“I want,” he gets out, “I want—”

“I know,” Steve says.

His hands are still wrapped around Eddie’s.

And Eddie senses the source of the heat now, a packet of some kind.

A hand-warmer.

He manages to take a proper breath, deep enough that he can smell the pillow Steve has given him; it doesn’t smell of the detergent Wayne uses, but it smells like a home at least. The dip in the middle makes him suspect that Steve’s brought the pillow from his own bed.

Eddie breathes in again. Out.

“There you go,” Steve murmurs.

Gradually the warmth against Eddie’s palms brings about a repeatedly suppressed, bone-deep tiredness. His eyes are stinging with it, and he feels like the boat’s been pushed out onto the lake; he sways forward without meaning to.

“Sorry,” he says, tongue thick.

He lifts his head to find Steve looking at him intently, brow furrowed.

“You should lie down,” Steve says quietly. “You look exhausted.”

Eddie does, turns onto his side so he can still just about see over the side of the boat. But…

“I won’t sleep,” he tells Steve through a sigh. He’s not arguing the point; it just seems inevitable.

Steve shrugs. “Just shutting your eyes is better than nothing,” he says casually enough, but it sounds too knowing, like he’s speaking from experience.

Eddie wonders what Steve sees when he falls asleep.

Steve stands up slowly. Hesitant.

“I’m—um. I’m sorry,” he says. “I’d stay, believe me, but I just—I don’t want the car here too long in case someone…”

“Go, Harrington,” Eddie says, hopes it comes out as gentle as he means it to be. “You’re the taxi service.”

Steve smiles. “We’ll be back,” he says. “Tomorrow, okay? I promise. We’ll bring food.”

“Tomorrow,” Eddie echoes. Tries and fails to push down a yawn. “Food.”

It’s not so bad, listening to Steve walking away. Eddie’s eyes close, burn with relief; in his head he follows along with the sound of Steve’s footsteps as they get more and more distant.

Car door opening. Closing. Seems farther away than before. His head is heavy.

He doesn’t expect to fall asleep. But he does his best to keep his thoughts on something light anyway. Maybe the continual warmth between his hands helps, ensures he doesn’t spiral back down to… to…

It comes to him fuzzily: why he recognised Steve singing in the first place.

Last summer, going to the mall to catch a movie, walking past an ice-cream parlor and hearing…

It was an unselfconscious kind of singing—no tension in the high notes. The sort usually done alone.

And do you feel scared? I do. But I won't stop and falter.

Eddie glanced over. Steve had been mopping, head down, but he looked up suddenly—for a moment, Eddie worried that he had been spotted. But then he watched the surreal sight of a group of children walking all over the wet floor, Steve beckoning them onward with fond exasperation.

He tapped at his wrist. “You’re cutting it fine tonight. Through the back, round the—”

“We know,” came an already distant chorus.

Steve rolled his eyes.

“And if anyone hears about this—”

“We’re dead!”

A door shut—alone again, Steve shook his head to himself. Smiled.

And if we threw it all away. Things can only get better.

Eddie remembers thinking that his voice wasn’t all that bad. It was nice.

It was…

Eddie wakes up warm.

The sight of the tarp disorients him for a few seconds—but he’s too sleepy to be panicked. The blanket against his jeans feels perfectly heavy. Keeps him still. Keeps him…

He thinks he must unintentionally drift off again; when he comes to, he feels that the hand-warmer he’s holding has gone cold. His feet knock against something, and he opens his eyes enough to see that Steve’s left more pouches. He takes one, hums when he cracks it so he doesn’t hear the…

It’s another day. He’s still here, damp wood against his back. A pillow beneath his head.

He knows the nightmare hasn’t stopped; Chrissy is still dead.

But there’s things he can touch, hold onto—evidence that he’s not been left alone, not really. He knows that Steve will come back. They all will.

His hands are warm.

And that’s something.

#this is my first ‘the boathouse’ fic! ❤️ #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve and the party

[dark-fics-4-you]

possible rafe request?! rafes gf makes him mad by being too friendly at an event w wards business partners so he fucks her at the event 😈

Golden Boy

Warnings: domestic violence, noncon, toxic relationship, jealousy,

You chuckled politely, trying not to glare at the thirty-something year old man in front of you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but put a little venom in your reply, “Well, I actually do have plans outside of my boyfriend. I’m going to college right now, and I’m actually in a paid internship that I got before Rafe and I met.”

The somewhat handsome, but definitely too old to be your type, business partner, whose name you had already forgotten, gave you an annoyed look, not expecting you to respond that way to his poorly hidden dig at you not belonging at this event.

It was true, in some ways. You were far from your side of the island, and no matter how much time you put into your make up and hair or the price tags of the many expensive clothes Rafe had bought you, the Kooks could always sniff out the people who grew up with nothing.

Before he could respond though, you heard your name being called from behind. Peering past the man in front of you, you could see your boyfriend waving at you to come over to him.

You didn’t even bother telling the asshole in front of you that you were exiting the conversation, you just did, quickly returning to Rafe’s side.

“Ugh perfect timing, that guy I was just talking to was a total jerk,” you whispered in his ear as you gave him a hug.

“Baby, didn’t I tell you to try to get along with these guys?” He seemed angry and you could tell that this event was already stressing him out a lot. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and everything about him was somewhat jittery, like he wasn’t in his right mind.

“I mean, you know I need to look good in front of them while my Dad’s watching. It means a lot to him.” You looked into his eyes at his words and noticed two things. One, Rafe said it meant a lot to his dad, but you knew it was more about how how much it meant to him. And two, his pupils were much wider than they should have been.

Rafe had obviously done some coke before tonight, trying to calm his nerves and give him some confidence, but it was only doing the opposite.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you look bad, but I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t defend myself in front of the people here who are looking down on me.” You shot back at him, annoyed for more reasons than one. “I’m being polite to them, but it would probably be easier for me if you were by my side to stop them from being so rude to me.”

You lowered your voice before speaking again, “And also… I don’t think you should be doing so much coke right now.”

Rafe’s burning glare alone was enough to make you regret saying anything, the return of his tight grip on your arm was just a sick formality at this point, reminding you of the previous bruise he had left in that same spot that you had to cover with makeup for this event.

After being with your boyfriend for so long, you knew the lengths he would go to when he felt personally wronged.

You learned very early on that Rafe was never one to hold back on his verbal abuse, and his physical abuse was no different, although he always tried to keep both incredibly private due to the damage that could come to the Cameron name if it ever came out that Ward’s son, the golden boy, was hitting his girlfriend.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, Rafe. I just care for you, that’s all. I promise I’ll be polite to your dad’s friends.” Your meager apology seemed to be good enough for the moment, and your boyfriend gave you a silent nod after staring at you for several unnerving seconds.

“Be polite, don’t share your opinion, and just keep your mouth shut for the most part. Let them talk about themselves, and they’ll probably think it was the best conversation they’ve had all day.” Rafe grumbled, but his mood improved when he tilted your head up, pressing his lips to yours, large hand still resting under your chin. You kissed him back for what you thought was an appropriate amount of time, but when you tried to pull away, he held you in place, tightly wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you to kiss him back.

By the time he released you, you pulled away to see several people staring at the two of you, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

Rafe was always doing things like that in public when he felt like other men were threatening your relationship, he always needed to prove himself and stake his claim on you. Let everyone there know that you belonged to him.

“Remember what I said sweetheart. Just try to act like you belong here.” He smirked at his obvious jab at the very thing you felt the most self conscious about right now, before he calmly turned heel, approaching another group of stuffy, rich assholes across the large room.

Your huff of frustration must have been loud enough to be heard by someone standing near you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

To your surprise, when you turned around you were greeted by a man who looked to be about your age.

“You’re Y/N, right?” He held out his hand, which you grabbed, giving him a firm handshake, just like Rafe had taught you.

“Yes I am, although I’m not quite sure if we have met before?” You lightheartedly responded.

“Ah, my apologies, you haven’t, I’m James, I work with your boyfriend at Cameron Development. He’s honestly a blast,” the man, James apparently, chuckled as he recalled several stories of work assignments with Rafe. This led to the two of you exchanging several funny work and college tales.

Despite never having met James before, you felt an instant chemistry with him, nothing romantic at all, of course, but you found him very easy to talk to, and to your surprise, after glancing at your watch, you realized that the two of you had been chatting for nearly 25 minutes!

At this realization, your blood instantly ran cold. Where was Rafe? Why hadn’t he checked on you? Had he seen you talking to the same guy for nearly half an hour, clearly enjoying yourself the entire conversation?

As if he could tell that you were thinking of him, Rafe suddenly appeared several yards away from where your conversation with James was taking place. There was a scowl on his face, and you could tell by the way he was advancing on you that he was pissed.

“Hey, Y/N, why don’t I give you my number, just so you have it?” James innocently asked, completely unaware of the anxiety coursing through your veins and the fact that your boyfriend was in earshot, pushing through the small crowd behind him to reach you.

Before you could even open your mouth to politely decline, Rafe was speaking for you, “She’s not interested.”

You didn’t have time to say goodbye, because your boyfriend was dragging you away from your new friend, his grip harshly digging in to your bruised arm.

“What the fuck did I tell you, Y/N?” His voice was even and calculated, but he couldn’t hide the rage simmering beneath the surface.

“You told me to-”

“I told you to get along with them, not to try to get into their pants.” Rafe growled, pushing you into the closest room with a door he could find, which happened to be Ward’s office. You landed on the carpeted floor, wincing in pain when your elbow absorbed most of the fall.

“Rafe, I promise, I was just having a good conversation.” Your voice was beginning to waver, the weight of the situation that you had found yourself in was beginning to sink in. “He’s your coworker, is it so wrong that I talked to him?”

“Stop lying! I know what I saw! You would have to be an idiot to not realize that he’s trying to fuck you too.” You would have been worried that someone could hear your boyfriend berating you, had it not been for the music playing throughout the house, and the thick walls of Ward’s study.

You realized how sad it was that you only knew that because Rafe had now loudly hurled insults at you in every room in the house he could at this point.

The blond stalked towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you upright. “I mean, did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? You think that little of me, Y/N?”

“Rafe no, I-”

You felt the air in your lungs disappear as your head snapped to the side, a sharp pain in your cheek blossoming across the now reddened skin.

“You don’t get to talk back to me right now!” Your boyfriend yelled in your face. You had barely processed his slap when you felt him moving you again, although now you felt much more numb.

Numb to Rafe roughly manhandling you before he bent you over his father’s desk, numb to the feeling of the cold, hard wood on your face as Rafe held you down, numb to the feeling of him pushing your fancy dress up and rudely yanking down your panties before harshly pushing two fingers inside you, and numb to the tears that were now spilling onto Ward’s desk.

“Such a fucking slut! You’re soaked,” he darkly chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his voice. “Is this all for me, or is it for James?” He bitterly wondered aloud, and when you didn’t give him a response fast enough, you cried out at the feeling of him smacking your ass.

“F-for you, Rafe,” you choked out through your tears.

You could hear him removing his belt, the sound of it hitting the floor was enough to trigger your body to begin quaking with fear and anxiety.

“Aw baby,” he cooed, and you flinched when you felt his fingers in your hair, lightly brushing some of it out of your eyes so he could look at you. “Don’t act so scared. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Well, at least, not until after the party’s over.”

His laughter made you feel sick, but even worse was the shock you felt when Rafe spread your pussy and sheathed himself inside of you without warning.

You saw stars for a few moments, the surprise catching you off guard and he was able to slide deeper into your tight walls.

“Rafe!” You gasped, unable to fight back, as your arms were pinned beneath you, and your boyfriend’s large chest prevented you from moving.

His fingers tangled into your hair, gripping a handful tightly as he pushed your face into the desk. His hips were snapping against your ass, fucking you harder whenever you futilely tried to break from his hold.

Every time you tried to escape mentally, to tear yourself from the reality of what your boyfriend was doing to you, he brought you back, snapping his fingers or groaning your name into your ear as he forced himself deeper into your wet cunt.

You were sure that your hips would be bruised from bumping into Ward’s desk as Rafe fucked you against your will. Another reminder of all the lessons he insisted that he had to teach you by force.

Every sharp thrust was a warning that this was him holding back. This was him being nice. And you knew better than to further aggravate Rafe when he was on a power trip.

And that was exactly what this was all about. The power and privilege that Rafe held over you, that he used to hurt you time and time again, without ever facing any real consequences. This was about reminding you that you belonged to him and at the end of the day, Rafe Cameron was untouchable and unstoppable, the Kook King, the golden boy of one of the richest families in the Outer Banks.

“You are my girlfriend, Y/N,” Rafe growled. “It’s time you started fucking acting like it.”

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron noncon #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut