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#AND MY COWORKER GOT YELLED AT AND HAS TO COME IN TOO!!!
sheriffspookypants · 20 days
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Me: I have to be careful not to just get drunk every time something upsetting happens
Managing attorney who is covering for my regular manager while she’s on maternity leave and fundamentally doesn’t understand my job: your numbers are low you have to come in five days a week until we see improvement
Me, pouring four shots of vodka: cool cool cool
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zemnarihah · 1 year
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ooooo just got to tell this HUGE asshole at work that he was wrong i am going to be riding this high for a week
#i wish my job didnt require like a thousand layers of explanation to tell ppl abt stuff that happens but basically#someone this guy who is like coworker adjacent but is like at a seperate company that we work with . and would technically outrank me#asked me to do smth and i was like sure but then the system wouldnt let me so i was like oh yeah sorry looks like the system isnt set up to#do that#and he got super pissy and condescending and told me to have my manager show me how. and i even told him i was like i mean i can ask but i#think theyll probably say the same thing. and he was like yeah have them show you bc you can i just had somdone else do it (ya rite..)#so i ask a supervisor.n they spend ten minutes checking to see if like maybe we were wrong bc the guy was so insistent abt it. and then the#were like yeah we cant do that. so this guy waited on hold for over ten minutes for me to come back like. Hi:) yeah so actually I spoke#with a supervisor and looks like we arent able to do that:) sorry about that:)#and the customer we were supposed to be helping together had disconnected bc i had to have them on hold too#and he was like can u transfer the customer to me now and i was like oh so their call disconnected:) sorry about that:) heres their phone#number you can go ahead and call them back:)#which he has to do bc thats his job lmao. what an asshole lol he doesnt even work for my company literally trying to mansplain how shit#works on our system which he definitely has never fucking used bc its specific to my company!#not even to like use mansplain as a buzzword bc i think thats so annoying but i rlly dont think he would have been as rude and condescendin#if i was a guy like i rlly dont. it was actually so condescending he was like telling me 'ok so do you see this button in the bottom left#of the screen? youre going to go ahead and click on that-' like trying to walk me through some shit that he has no clue abt.#anyway. hope the customer yelled at him for keeping them waiting. i doubt it but that would be some good karma since it actually was#his fault
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leviathxn · 2 months
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So I have a request for a Miguel fic, if you are willing to do it. 😊🤗
So...Miguel has a family but he hasn't told the other Spiders. One day he has to take his baby to work to look after him for a while. But then, in his office, bang the Spiders and see Miguel with a baby in his arms/or in a baby carrier. Later Miguel's wife comes in the picture too to take the baby in their universe.
OKAY I LOVE MIGUEL WITH A KID SM
So I know people were asking me for a part 2 on my other one so I’m gonna work on it but obviously it’s these requests firsttt
Thank you all so much for the support 💕
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“”Are you infected??”
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You were typically the one to watch the kids, the double trouble twins. Miguel was a busy man, protecting the spider-verse and all, so you would work from home and play with the twins. It wasn’t so bad, of course Miguel felt bad that he couldn’t have as close of a relationship with them but they still very much knew who their daddy was ((and you did too 😳)). But overall it was a good system and you would get to take things slow at home while being a fun mother.
However, every so often there was days you would need to go into work, very rare but still at least a semiannual occurrence. Sometimes you would even take them into work and they would end up bothering coworkers, but most times you were able to get a family member or close friend to watch them but as they’ve gotten older, spider powers started to shine through. Not only was it hard to control them but it would be too revealing.
Obviously nobody knew Miguel was spider-man, but if two twins started to hang on ceilings, people would eventually put two and two together. This meant you couldn’t leave them with family, resulting in Miguel carrying them around in double baby backpacks. One would be on his chest, the other in him back.
Miguel, in typical fashion, stayed in his office. Nobody assumed anything by his yelling, the man was weird, what would be surprising if he was schizo? Although every now and then people would look at each other, it didn’t sound like typical frustration or talking to himself, it was almost a back and forth. They were in no way heavy, but oh my, they were annoying. How did you get a grip on these two? They’re animals. Halfway through the day, the twins got out of the carriers and there was no going back.
“Put that down! Ay- I’m sorry don’t cry- HEY”. Miguel was struggling, because he loved the kids and he felt so bad for yelling but they wouldn’t listen. He thought to himself about the teens. You’d think as they get older they’d be better, but he saw himself comparing them to his 1 year old twins.
Disgusted at the thought, he grabbed them and webbed their hands. They giggled, struggling to get it off. It was a good distraction….. for like 3 minutes, then they were back to running around. He tried playing fetch with the twins but that didn’t go very well. They were just.. confused. Why did he throw the toy the just got. Although he appreciated their thinking skills, he really had no idea what to do. He held both of his kids, they hung from his arms and were climbing around him like a jungle gym.
Completely lost in thought about his children dilemma, the doors to his office opened, and the lovely teen band walked in. What a sight for them to see. Miguel standing completely disheveled and staring into space, a kid on his shoulder grabbing his ear, and another kid gorilla hugging his ((massive)) leg and trying to bite the suit.
Panic bells went off, everybody rushing over to Miguel. Was this an attack, was Miguel okay? Oh my gosh he’s being attacked by alien morphing baby things. As they all got ready to ready for the babies, Miguel jumped back, making sure to grab hold of his kids, and getting defensive.
“What the hell is your guys problem?!!” He shouted, sheltering both of his kids, who were now on high alert and looking fearful.
“Are those Aliena??? What happened to you, what did they do?? Why do you look like that!” Miles replied back to him, pointing his fingers at both babies. “Are you infected??”
Hobie, naturally didn’t look concerned, and stop back. “Mate, they look just like him”
“They bit him and took his DNA!! That’s why he’s protecting him”, Pavitr shouted while getting in an offensive position. Hobie almost lost is as he hurled over. Gwen looked over for a moment, then back to Miguel. “Wait… those are your kids”
“WHAT”. Miles and Pavitr shouted, looking at the very tired Miguel. “By that doesn’t make sense- you’re not- are you married??”. Questions flew right and left, chaos ensued as the babies ran around again. Miguel was done, SO DONE with babysitting the actual babies and now the teens.
Suddenly the door opened again, a very sweaty you running through. “Oh Miggy- I’m sorry I’m late I just got so lost in this place, but I’m here for the twins”. Miguel looked over at you in panic, the teen’s immediately stopped in their tracks. As the kids ran to you, so did the teens…. and what was supposed to be Miguel’s saving grace, ended up in having everybody over for dinner.
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Ahh I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you asked for, I traveled today to see a college and I’m writing this very late so I hope you don’t mind that it’s rushed. I’ll get more writing done this week since I’m on break, I promise!
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patscorner · 2 months
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ARE YOU OKAY?
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Summary: Y/n has too much drink at a party
Tw: drinking, vomit, swearing, partying, suggestive jokes, kissing
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It started with one shot, which turned into two, which turned into three, and then you starting losing count.
You were at your coworkers' birthday party, and after this past week, you thought you deserved a break.
Monday was the start to all of your problems. Your dog threw up blood, and you rushed him to the vet. After waiting in the lobby for 4 hours, hoping that he's okay, the vets told you they couldn't find anything wrong.
So they gave him medicine and sent him back home. By then, you were late to work and was dealt a huge amount of overtime.
The rest of the week wasn't any better. You had got into an agruement with both Matt and your father, and then had to take your dog back to the vet when the medicine didn't work.
So, to say you were stressed would be an understatement.
That's why you went to the party in the first place. You ignored Matt, who told you that you shouldn't drink in your state of mind, and you knew he was right. You just didn't care. You didn't want to feel the stress anymore, and what better way to do that than to get blackout drunk.
So there you were, on your 7th shot of tequila, dancing as you let the alcohol take over. Your hips moved to the music and you danced on the floor shoulder to shoulder to strangers you've never seen before.
"Y/n!" You turned to see your coworker waving you over, and you drunkenly stumbled towards him, pushing past the other bodies on the floor.
"Hey, what's up?" You slurred over the music.
He rolled his eyes. "I called your boyfriend. He's on his way to get you." He yelled over the loud chatter.
You smiled drunkenly. "Yayyyy! Wheeere's he at?" You said, clearly incoherent.
Your coworker sighed. "Jesus, Y/n, how much have you drank?" All you did was shake your head.
"I dunno." You said, stumbling backward a little.
"Woah, woah, okay, how about we sit you down?" Your coworker speaks, dragging you outside and sitting you down on the curb.
"We'll wait here for Matt." He said as he sat next to you. Your eyes were closed, and your body swayed as the refreshing wind blew through your hair.
"Matt's coming?" You asked, not moving an inch. Your coworker chuckled. "Yeah, that's him right there." He pointed out.
Your eyes opened wide, and tears filling them as you saw the van pull up and Matt hop out, keys in hand.
Matt runs over to you and immediately holds your hands. "Love, are you okay? Why are you crying?" He said, voice laced with concern.
All you do is hum as you bring him into a warm embrace. The alcohol stings his nose as he looks at your coworker for help. Her coworker looks at him amusedly.
"She's so drunk, I'm surprised she's able to talk."
Matt rolled his eyes. "Thanks for calling me. How much has she had to drink?" He asked, still clinging onto you.
You pull away before your coworker can say anything. "I- I am not drunk. I've only have had 4 shots. That'sss what the bartender said when I asked." You slurred, blinking slowly.
Matt looked at your coworker. "That was 2 hours ago. She's had double that." He shrugged.
"Jesus fuc- Why didn't you stop her?" Matt said wide-eyed as he put his hand in the small of your back to keep you up, as you swayyed in his arms.
Your coworker shrugged again. "She's grown, I thought she could handle herself." Matt sighed. "She is, and she should." He glanced at you, who was staring at the fire hydrant next to you, entranced.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to let her get plastered." Your coworker apologizes, feeling guilty for not preventing you from getting here.
Matt sighed again. "It's okay, it's not your fault. I should get her back, though. Thanks again for calling me." He said, standing up.
Your coworker nods. "No problem, drive safe." He said before walking inside.
"Come on, my love, let's go." He said, picking you up, holding you steady as you stand.
"Wheeere are we goin'?" You slurred, stumbling on your feet.
"Home."
"But, whyyyyyy?" You whined, reluctantly letting Matt drag you to the car. "We just got here."
He shook his head as he helped you into the car. "It's 4am, sweetheart. You did not just get here." He laughs before closing the door and walking to the other side.
You look at him as he climbs in, buckles up, and backs out. "You okay, baby? Do you need anything?" Matt speaks, glancing at you as he drives, his hand resting on your thigh.
You hum, unable to speak anymore. The alcohol somehow diminished your love for speaking, and even though you were plastered, you couldn't bring yourself to talk.
"Are you with me, baby?" Matt speaks again, rubbing your leg gently.
You look at him, pupils dilated. "'M gonna throw up..." You say softly.
Matt's eyes shoot to yours, watching your face pale. "Wha- okay, okay. Let me pull over, hold on."
Matt swiftly and kind of illegally pulls over onto the shoulder, but it's okay. There was nobody on the road. It's 4am, who would be out?
You fight with the door but eventually stumble onto the grass, falling to your knees as vomit spews out of your mouth.
You feel a hand on your back, and your hair gets pulled out of your face. Matt whispers quiet, comforting words as sobs fall out of your mouth. Not because you're sad or in pain, you're just drunk and overworked.
"Shhh, I know, I know. It's okay." Matt spoke softly as you breathed heavily. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before collapsing unexpectedly into Matt's arms.
"Fuck, baby, are you okay?" Matt said, his voice laced with concern. You nod against his body, ignoring the wet grass on your legs.
Matt rubbed circles onto your back. "Let's go home, love." He whispered. You hum, but don't move.
Matt sighed before lifting you up and carrying you back to the car. You're not sleeping, but you're not awake either. You're just drunk.
Matt puts you back in the car, buckling up as your eyes struggle to stay open. You whine as Matt places a kiss on your cheek, wanting more.
Matt chuckles. "Sorry, love. I want to get us home." He said, closing your door and walking to get in the driver seat.
The rest of the car ride went by smoothly and uninterrupted. You didn't throw up again, and you didn't really speak either.
Matt kept glancing at you nervously the whole time, silently wishing you'd speak. That way, he knew you were okay. For his own sake, he kept his hand on your thigh the whole time.
You open your eyes when you feel the car be put in park. You look around, but your so drunk, you have no idea where you are.
You whine in your seat, wiggling uncomfortably. "Matttttt... Wanna lay down." You slurred out.
Matt sighed as he got you both out of car, holding your waist as he guided you to the door. You stumble over your feet, but Matt's determined to get you inside as quick as possible.
You feel butterflies in your stomach as you become aware of Matt's hand on your waist. You look down at his hand, then at him, then his hand, then back to him again.
"Youuuu want to fuck me, don you?" You say, voice shaking. Matt freezes as you reach the front door.
His eyes widened as he looked at you. "Wha-, no, honey. I don't. I just want to get you to bed." He said, shaking his head aa he unlocked the front door.
"You don't love me?!" You say, louder than you mean too, but right now, you're very emotional. Tears fall down your face as Matt shushes you.
"Shhh! Honey, of course I love you. I just don't think now is the right time for... that. You gotta be quiet. We don't want to wake Nick and Chris." He said, quickly helping you up the stairs.
Speeding up was a mistake as you stumbled up the stairs and leaned on Matt and grip the banister for dear life.
"Oh dear god." Matt muttered as he lifted you up. You were getting frustrated as well, angry that you couldn't even walk by yourself. "Fuck." You whisper as tears fall.
After the fight to get to Matt's room, you finally make it.
Matt sits you on the bed, sighing deeply as your eyes stay closed. "You wanna take off your clothes, baby, or do you not care?" His back is to you, setting his keys on his desk. He doesn't even notice your tears.
You sniffle, wiping your face quickly. "I-i don't care." You say your voice comes out smaller than you intend, making Matt turn around urgently.
"What's the matter, sweetheart? Why are you crying?" He says, crouching down, cupping your face as he wipes your tears.
"I'm just so stressed. My dog is sick, and you're mad at me and my dad hates me, and, and people at work keep getting on my nerves, and I'm so done and and I'm so fucking drunk and I don't even want to be." You ramble out in one breath.
"Hey, hey, breathe. It's okay. I'm not upset with you. I was earlier, but I'm not anymore." Matt says, looking in your eyes. "And your dad doesn't hate you. He was just upset, and I'm certain he's not anymore. As for your dog and work, I can only help by being there for you. You don't have to be drunk to cope, honey." He said, sealing his words with a kiss.
"Thank you, Matt." You say as he pulls you into another kiss.
You kiss him back, but he reluctantly stops it before it goes farther. "You're drunk. Let's get you to sleep, yeah?" He said, patting your thighs.
You nod as you crawl into the bed, pulling the blanket over your shoulders. "I love you, Matt."
"I love you, too." Matt says as he crawled next you, pulling you onto his now shirtless chest.
You knew the hangover was gonna be a bitch in the morning.
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mechaknight-98 · 3 months
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Vehement (NSFW) FT Chaeyoung (Twice)
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Authors Note: Chae has really been doing it for me lately so here’s some more of her.
Part II I guess
When you arrive at your shared apartment you hear moans coming from your bedroom, and you think the worst, but you breathe in and out take a breath and calmly approach the situation with a clear vision. You walk to the open door and you see your girlfriend getting railed by another girl with a strap on. You don’t scream or yell or freak out. You walk out and go back to your parent's house. Explain the situation wisely block her number and move on. Of course, there is screaming and yelling and crying to your self five years is five years after all but honestly, what could you do? It was as the saying goes “spilled milk.”
One year later
You find yourself at a bar in Korea. That job promotion from last year has paid dividends you are now a partner at the law firm and have been on a hot streak of legal victory after legal victory, but Nike’s sweet embrace only came in the form of occupational success. You were lonely isolated, and starting to lose hope. So you sat alone drinking your whisky. Your coworkers have floated off and around. Doing their things.
“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” You hear as something taps your shoulder. You turn around to see a short girl with big eyes and a round face staring at you. her cat eye makeup lures you in.
“Sure why not.” You say
“Good because I wasn’t taking no for an answer handsome.” The lady says confidently. You smile.
“Well then Mrs.?” You ask intrigued
“Call me Tiger.” The lady says she eyes your drink
“Another whisky on the rocks.” She says to the bartender. The bartender nods and smirks at you knowingly.
“So what’s your name handsome,” Tiger asks smirking.
“Rocco,” you say.
“Roco.” Tiger purrs you nod at her. Tiger smiles “Hmm I like it.” She adds. You tilt your head as you face her.
“So what is a large handsome man like you doing all alone?”
“Well, I’m enjoying the drinks. Had a hard week but pushed through and now I can play hard.” You say. Tiger smiles.
“Oh, a working man. What do you do?” Tiger asks
“I’m a business lawyer,” you say but before you can continue your conversation with Tiger a loud and sadly familiar voice rings out.
“Oh my GOD Rocco Cabaretti?” You turn to see your ex Sabrina walking towards you. She looks different. Her hair which was short and black is now long and streaked with silver. Her facial makeup is more siren-like than you remember (oceanic colors) and her movements and body language are significantly less tomboy and more feminine. She smiles at you as you squint. You recognize her by voice but she doesn’t need to know that.
“Um, do I know you?” You ask.
“Oh don’t be like that you disappeared for a year on our anniversary and you don’t recognize me.” Your ex replies
“Wait, Sabrina?” You feign. Your ex nods
“Bingo.” She says happily “What are you doing here?” she asks surprised.
“I live out here,” you respond
“Me too when did you move out here?” she asks
You subtly turn to Mrs Tiger and she sees your discomfort. She nods and mouths “I got you.”
“About a month after I left the apartment.” You answer
“Oh so right after I started dating Jennie. oh speak of the devil there she is.” Sabrina says proudly
Sabrina smiled as the girl you saw her cheat with approached he breathed deeply and clenched your fists. Mrs Tiger saw it and grabbed your right hand. You turned to her and Mrs Tiger smiled at you with a considerate smile. Your left eye twitched vehemently but thanks to the lighting no one except Tiger noticed
“Hey babe who is this?” Jennie asked after giving Sabrina a very expressive kiss.
“Oh, this is just my ex Rocco,” Sabrina answered
“The lawyer who disappeared?” Jennie asked curiously Sabrina nodded
“Why did you disappear? It was our 5th anniversary and you just left,” she asked as tears began to well up in her eyes. You didn't know if this was fake or she was genuinely sad. So you decided to come clean.
“I got home early on our fifth anniversary and saw you fucking Jennie. I figured you were cheating on me so I took the hint. Especially since we had been having problems before,” you say plainly. It's as if time stands still for everyone present and it feels like everyone within earshot goes mute. You feel the quiet stares as the muted circle gets to you. You watch as Sabrina stands there dumbfounded. The bartender who got you your last drink's eyes almost pop out of her head
Jennie turns to her and laughs, “I told you. You should have warned him.” she says in between giggle fits
You turn to Mrs. Tiger who's also extremely confused. both of your faces saying, "Did she say that?"
“I am so sorry honey. Jennie and I were supposed to be your anniversary gift. I had felt bad for missing your birthday and Christmas, but you were so busy with work, and I wanted to make it special.” Sabrina said through a befuddled expression.
You nod trying to process everything. You do not allow your anger from the last year not to evaporate in that instant though. You were still furious. You just couldn't do anything with it now because the situation became even more ridiculous. Sure one day in the future this might be hilarious but not today. You realize though in that moment that you can't show any emotion except shock,” “Oh um okay I would have been cool with Final Fantasy 7 rebirth but cool.” what you said wasn't meant as a joke but it certainly got a laugh out of everyone present. Well everyone besides Mrs. Tiger.
“Oh, you're so funny and simple. Well, it was good to see you, Rocco,” Sabrina said jovially. Her smile returned. You nod as she leaves. Jennie mouths "sorry" before waving you off as well. After she leaves you turn to the barkeep who's as shocked as you are and you pay your tab.
She refuses and says “It's on the house Rocco.” she blinks a few times and you mirror that trying to process the numerous emotions. Mrs Tiger gets in the way, of you leaving.
"You okay?" Mrs. Tiger asks
"Um that was insane and I honestly don't know. I am just going to go home and sleep tonight off." You reply
Mrs. Tiger's eyes widen, "How about we do something else?" she suggests
"Um...you know what fuck it. Tonight is a wash anyways," you say. Mrs. Tiger smiles and the two of you (After the appropriate amount of time waiting for the drinks to wear off. be responsible people) drive to your place. You let Mrs. Tiger in and she smiles.
"This is a nice place. quite big, and what a killer view. Is that all of Hongdae?" Mrs. Tiger asks looking around the space.
"Most of it, but yeah it's why I chose this place. Although work has made it hard to enjoy it." You answer
"You work a lot?" Mrs. Tiger asks
"Um, it ebbs and flows. If it's a particularly difficult case yes otherwise it can be pretty open and shut. I try to stick to my office hours and billable hours as closely as possible." You reply. Mrs Tiger nods and then notices your switch plugged in.
"Oh, a gamer too. you're like my friend Mina. She loves gaming." Mrs. Tiger teases. You crack a smile. Unsure of what to do next you go to your fridge.
"Would you like some water Mrs. Tiger?" you ask politely as you turn your back to get a couple of bottles from the fridge. you close the door and Mrs. Tiger stares at you with wanton desire.
"No I want you," she says as she begins kissing you, at first you're off guard but your body quickly falls in line you kiss her back. Your bodies slither along each other as she wraps her legs around your waist. She breaks the kiss for a moment. "That was absolute bullshit tonight," she says. You nod and she begins to speak again before going back in for another kiss, "I can't believe that dumb bitch is dating Jennie too."
"Do you know Jennie?" you ask.
"Oh, you haven't recognized me yet how cute." Mrs Tiger replies, before going in for another kiss. you gave into your impulses and just followed her lead. you kissed her again with more fire this time. she yelped as you gripped her ass roughly and you slid your tongue down her throat. She greedily accepted your advances and broke the kiss a trail of saliva connecting the two of you. her silver contact eyes told you all you needed to know. your hand slid from her ass to under her skirt and you slid her panties to the side before sticking a few fingers into her sodden pussy. you smirk as she shyly looks away.
"Oh so now you're shy" you tease."
Mrs Tiger looks at you with a blushing look before you plunge into her folds with her fingers. "Oh God." she moans at the intrusion, but you continue to pump in and out of her as you lead the two of you to the bedroom. Chaeyoung moans and groans as she grinds herself on your fingers. you lay her on your bed giving her a second to breathe, but the look in her eyes tells you "Fuck me now." so you rip her panties but leave her pantihose on while you watch her rip her top off and free her cute perky tits. you attach your lips to the right bud and breast kissing and licking until she growls out you.
"Enough foreplay. fuck me."
"Okay Mrs. Tiger." you tease before plunging into her pussy. you groan as you enter her for the first time. despite her wetness, she is still aggressively tight. you push into her though and she moans out.
"Oh God break me with that fat cock." she yells
"What a dirty mouth." you tease. She glares at you and as she goes the chide you, you thrust back into her. she groans in pleasure as you thrust in and out of her. you reach your hand out to her left breast and squeeze as you thrust in and out. She loses it.
"God I love this fat cock." she yells as you fuck her.
"Oh really. then we might have to make this a real thing." you say in the heat of the moment."
"Oh God yes please." Mrs. Tiger moans as she nears her climax. you are not far behind as you pound into her tight pussy.
"tell me where you want it?" you ask.
"paint my on my tits. make me a slutty painting with your cum." Mrs Tiger demands. you notice her tattoos and the rest of her petite body.
"I'll make sure to paint all of you tonight," you say. her vagina clenches around at that and she cums on your dick. you pull out in time and switch your cock with your finger to push her through a higher height as you stroke yourself on your masterpiece. your cum flies all over her chest and tummy as you stroke.
"Ugh take it slut." you say. Mrs Tiger moans in blissful pleasure as you cum stains her body. when you finish she smiles, and you fall next to her. spent.
"I need a minute. that was hot but man were you rough." Mrs. Tiger
"Chaeyoung." Mrs. Tiger replies.
"Like the singer?"
Chaeyoung hits you annoyed.
"Yes like the singer because I am her."
"Oh, no way." You say.
"I am sorry for being so rough with you." you apologize
"Oh no I needed it, and I think you needed it too after tonight's fiasco," Chaeyoung says satiated.
"Fuck yeah. you're my first fuck in 5 years."
Chaeyoung raised an eyebrow, "5 years?"
You nod, "She fucked me up."
Chaeyoung chuckles, "Well at least we're both good, but I am going to need a round two and three."
"Oh me too," you reply.
the air is silent for a bit before you say, "Also if you don't want to be..." you stammer
"Oh now you're shy after finding out I am a megastar." Chaeyoung teases
"I just...the dating bans. Chaeyoung." you stammer
"Please the public flips flops their opinion on me every day. we will be fine to date, look at me. I am yours. and this... (She grabs your cock and slowly starts stroking it) is mine." she says strongly before relenting. "I am not ready yet so rest up, because when I want you. I need you ready," she adds. you nod and fall off to sleep with her cuddling you.
You are jolted awake to the sensation of a warm and wet sensation around your crotch. At first, it is jarring then eases into being quite pleasant. You look down to see a little minx’s lips wrapped around your cock. You blink thrice as your eyes adjust when they finally focus your girlfriend’s face can be distinguished. She smiled as you fully came to consciousness. She stops her sucking to come up for air. Her doe eyes look at you full of adoration and innocence despite the rest of her body being built for sin. She pools spit at your tip before beginning to stroke your rod. Her disheveled hair and bare face only add to the raw erotic beauty she holds. You take in her beauty and say “fuck Tiger how do accomplish new ways to be hot every day. Your girlfriend smiles seeing she has you wrapped around her finger.
Her gaze shifts from love and adoration to unbridled lust and desire. “Oh good Jagi you're up. Well, all of you are up. This little guy woke me up as he was poking me this morning. Are you good to fuck me before work? I need it,” Chaeyoung says. You nod she grins like a mad woman as she moves up. When your faces are level she aligns her pussy with your cock. As she takes in your cock inch by inch she moans progressively louder. When she bottoms out she gives a look that is equal parts possessive and lustful.
“This cock is mine,” Chaeyoung states to you coldly. You look into her eyes which are clouded over by the unrelenting horniness that seems to almost radiate off her like an aura of lust. It pulls you closer to her as you line your cock with her folds you attempt to slide in but the Chaeyoung vehemently yells, “No fuck my ass!” surprised at her words you adjust your trajectory and plunge into her other hole.
“Oh Fuck” Chaeyoung moans as you bottom out. She leans her body into yours
“Pull my hair,” she yells as you thrust in and out of her. You reach for it and roll it into a tight fistful handle as her eyes roll back into her head. You watch the way your girlfriend reacts and stop being mesmerized by her incredible ass. Her lustful aura and body overtake you and you fall deeper into depravity with her.
“Smack” echoes through the apartment as you slap her ass. You move your love hand and have it begin to tease her clit
“Ugh.” Chaeyoung grunts trying to ground herself but the pleasure is too much and she violently cums. Seeing your girlfriend's body so overwhelmed sends you over the edge as you cum in her ass. She looks at you with a wild look that sends you feral as you withdraw from her. Chaeyoung’s fire is still lit and she eyes you intensely.
“You got any left in the tank?” she challenges you to nod and plunge back into her pussy without warning.
“Oh god yes stuff me with that fat cock.” Chaeyoung raves. You thrust into her while grabbing her slutty waist.
"You like how I fuck your slutty body tiger?" you question
Chaeyoung nods lost in the pleasure, "fuck me, fill my pussy with your cum I need it. I need it." Chaeyoung whines. you smile.
"Oh, do you want me to breed your slutty pussy? make you my girl forever," you ask
"Yes breed my slutty pussy." she says as her pussy tightens around your cock. you groan
"Does the idea of your belly and tits swelling turn you on that much slut." you challenge. Chaeyoung's pussy tightens even further around your cock somehow.
"Well Tiger what will it be I'm close. "you say to her. "You can still back out before I ruin your pussy forever and claim it as mine," you say to her
"Breed my pussy." Chaeyoung says in a husky voice as she makes intense eye contact with you. "I want all of your cum inside me this load. can you do it for me empty those big burdened balls deep into my cunt" she asks breathlessly. You nod
Chaeyoung moans breathlessly as the pleasure takes hold of her again when you give into her demands, and she comes over your dick forcing you into another orgasm. you dump your last load of the night into her pussy. and she falls back onto the bed again truly satisfied. she turns to you and says.
"That was good." you nod and tell her how great that was for you. "Yeah I guarantee I got you," she says adorably before falling asleep in your arms.
"I got you too. Tiger," you reply.
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imagine-shenanigans · 6 months
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I'm still thinkin about @ceilidho 's coworker Soap,,,,
Soap really really REALLY wants your first kiss with him to be special. He already considers you two a thing, hes your work husband after all! But he also really really just doesn't fucking care.
Soap who sees a shoplifter and in the rush goes "hold this bonnie" and presses his lips to yours, passing his gum into your mouth. He runs after the shoplifter like he DEFINITELY isn't supposed to. He comes back for it too, says the flavor is even better after being in your mouth. He presses to your side and you can feel that he's rock fucking hard too, and you feel rather than see him tuck his dick into his waistband before he goes off for disciplinary action for chasing after a shoplifter.
That's the only time he actually gets in trouble, and during his mandatory time away (for like a week) hes constantly sending you texts, all of which reference various incidents but never state anythjng outright. (Thinkin about givin ya my coat again, might leave a treat for you inside too just fer being so sweet to me.) You block his number. He has a burner phone within the hour.
You try to take vacation days when he gets back, just for a bit of a break, maybe go on a date, and he goes fucking ballistic when he hears, through the misconstrued grape vine, that you're taking time off to visit someone you're dating.
It's the angriest you've seen him. EVER.
He cools himself outwardly immediately but every single thjng that could go wrong with your vacation goes wrong. Your tires are flat so you call an uber. The bus you're taking broke down, and after two or three hours of waiting they finally tell you that nobody else is coming so the trip is cancelled. Your hotel calls to let you know your cancellation was received, and someone booked out the hotel room while you were on hold. you get a taxi/uber back home and your apartment is flooded.
You call Soap just to yell at him, between angry accusatory tears and he just coos at you that he'll be right there and hangs up. Ends up showing up two minutes later (There's no goddamn way he lives that close) in his car, and before you can even register what's happening he's got your things in his trunk and he's ushering you into the passenger seat. He talks about what bad luck you have, sweetheart, and assures you that I'm here, dinnae worry your pretty little head.
He takes you back to his place, tells you he's happened to take some time off as well.
His hand is like a vice on your upper thigh the entire ride.
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kiss-me-cill-me · 5 months
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Devour
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader
Word Count: 5k
Summary: When you accept a ride home from your colleague, Dr. Crane, the last thing you expect is for him to drug you. Crane is surprised as well, however, as his fear toxin has a very... unusual effect on you.
Warnings: NON-CON smut, non-consensual use of fear toxin, sex pollen-esque situations, kidnapping, S&M themes, dacryphilia, fear play, breath play
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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You were having an extremely bad day.
There was really no use mincing words about it. From the moment you’d woken up this morning, it had felt like the universe was conspiring against you. A cold shower, thanks to the hot water breaking yet again; facing what should be a criminal amount of traffic on your commute to work; and overall just a miserable shift full of difficult patients and unfriendly coworkers. It seemed like everyone had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.
And now, as this long day was finally coming to an end, there was one more problem to face.
“Crap, crap, crap, where did I park?” you muttered.
The parking lot was dark. It was raining - of course it was raining. And the result was that you had been unable to find your car for the last ten minutes, and were now soaked through to the bone.
You raised an arm to shield your eyes from the relentless downpour of water, and scanned over the cars in front of you, again. You could have sworn you’d parked in your usual spot, but you had been in such a rush from being late because of the traffic that you must have carelessly parked somewhere else and forgotten.
Just as you were about to give up and go back inside to call a cab, you spotted the silhouette of a familiar make and model. Well, somewhat familiar - it looked like the car was listing to one side, at an odd angle to the pavement. As you approached, you instantly saw why.
Two of your tires had been slashed. The front and rear left wheels were completely deflated, causing the car to lean down and scrape its metal rims on the asphalt. There was no way you could drive this home.
“You have got to be kidding me!” you yelled, frustration crumbling into the beginnings of a sob.
It had been hard to hold it together at work, but you were always careful to project a certain sense of stability in front of the patients, and you had done so today as well. But now, in the privacy of a parking lot crowded with cars but devoid of people, you allowed your walls to come down and a tear to escape the corner of your eye.
“Everything okay over here?” asked a voice behind you.
You spun around, suddenly self conscious, to find one of your colleagues, Dr. Jonathan Crane, standing a few feet away from you. It was hard to see the expression his eyes might have held, behind the glare of his glasses and the sheeting rain between you - but you imagined it must be pity. You probably looked like a soaked rat, standing here clutching your briefcase, clothes plastered against you from the rain. Meanwhile, Crane was perfectly dry under an umbrella, his suit crisp and well-fitting as usual.
“I… no,” you admitted. “Some asshole slashed my tires.”
Crane had taken a few steps toward you, and now was holding out the umbrella to you. It wouldn't do much good at this point; you were already completely drenched and shivering. But you appreciated the gesture. You took the handle he offered, freezing cold fingers brushing against his for just a moment.
“Let me take a look,” Crane offered.
You wanted to tell him to not bother. That the damage was done, and there was no reason for him to get soaked, too, when at this point all that could remedy the situation was to call a cab. But before you had the chance to say anything, Crane was already stepping out from under the umbrella and leaning down to examine your front tire.
He kicked it with the toe of his fancy leather shoe a few times. Seemed to consider something with his hand to his chin for a moment. And then turned back to you and held his hand out for the umbrella. You gave it to him.
“Doesn't look like you'll be able to patch that up,” he confirmed.
You had already known that, but resisted the urge to tell him so. He was just trying to be helpful; you weren’t going to snap at him.
“Do you have any other way to get home?”
You shook your head.
“The bus line that goes by my apartment has been out of service for weeks. Something about an investigation,” you told him. “They found chemicals or a potential bomb or something. I don't even know. Just my luck, I guess.”
Crane’s voice had a soft lilt of amusement as he responded, or maybe it was just in your imagination.
“Sounds like Gotham for you,” he said.
For the first time, you looked up at his face. Crane wasn't particularly tall, but he had an imposing presence all the same. It was his intelligence - obvious from the moment you stepped in the same room as him - and his eyes - a hollow, piercing blue even behind his glasses - that gave him an air of authority. You were familiar with him as a colleague, but hadn't spent much time actually working with him. He was the Head of Psychiatry at Arkham, and you were one of the general physicians on staff. There wasn't a great amount of overlap in what you did. Crane made policies and studied the patients’ minds. You just tried, desperately at times, to keep them from succumbing to outbreaks of lice and flu.
As he looked back down at you now, you felt oddly comforted by Crane’s presence. He was intimidating, yes, but he also seemed to hold real interest in your predicament. Like he was concerned about what would happen to you, a coworker he barely knew and probably hadn't said more than a dozen words to before this. You recalled something - just an aimless piece of gossip - that you had heard from one of your nurses a few weeks ago.
“Crane is such an unbelievable creep,” she’d said.
He didn't seem creepy to you. A little awkward, maybe, coming to play the white knight and offer his opinions on a car tire that you could clearly tell needed to be replaced. But friendly; kind. It felt like he was your first piece of good luck all day.
“Tell you what,” Crane said, lowering his head to yours just a bit so as to be heard over the rain. “My apartment isn't too far from here. Why don't I drive you there, and you can dry off and change into some clean clothes while I call a tow?”
Gratitude flowed through you. Okay, you decided, he could play the white knight if he wanted to. If pretending that chivalry wasn't dead meant you could get out of this awful rain, you would take it. Still, part of you felt bad for making him go out of his way.
“Are you sure?” you asked. “I wouldn't want to trouble you.”
“It's really no trouble at all,” Crane assured you.
He motioned for you to walk with him, and set off toward a dark corner of the parking lot. You trailed alongside him, eager to stay under the shelter of his umbrella.
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Crane’s apartment felt strangely secluded. It was quiet; with none of the usual bustle of other people coming and going, having arguments over dinner, smoking on the patios. No neighbors, Crane explained to you. He had the fourth floor all to himself, for the time being, due to renovations in the other two apartments. You weren't sure what they could possibly be renovating. The whole apartment building was spotless and modern; expensive-looking in a way that told you Crane had a lot of money. More money than anyone who worked at Arkham Asylum should have, considering the paltry wages they paid. But, you weren't about to judge; maybe he just came from a wealthy family.
“Would you like some tea?” Crane asked, shrugging out of his damp suit jacket and running a hand through his hair.
“Sure. Thank you.”
Crane filled a kettle with water, took two mugs out of a cupboard, and dropped two tea bags into them.
“Hope chamomile is okay,” he said, as he set the kettle to boil. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “Let me get you some dry clothes. Wait right there.”
And with that, he disappeared into one of the rooms. 
You took a quick survey of the space around you. It was bright in the kitchen, but in a strangely clinical way that reminded you more of an operating room than a place drenched in sunlight. Maybe that's what they were renovating in the other apartments. For all the expensive amenities this place seemed to offer, harsh white fluorescents seemed an odd choice. 
Crane reappeared with a few items in his hands.
“Nothing fancy,” he explained, “but these should fit you. And here’s a towel if you need it.”
He offered what he was holding, and you took it. The logo on the t-shirt was for the Gotham PD. Strange. As far as you knew, Crane wasn’t connected with the police. It seemed a bit odd for him to have this shirt, but you didn’t question it too much. You didn’t really know him well at all, you reminded yourself. Who could say what he got up to in his free time?
“Guest room is down the hall and on the left,” he told you.
You thanked him and shuffled away to get cleaned up. You were dripping onto the linoleum of his kitchen floor, and you felt bad, again, for all the trouble you were causing. Crane surely had his own errands and hobbies to get to after a long day at work, and they almost certainly didn’t include looking after his errant coworkers. You smiled to yourself. Maybe after all this was over, you could do something nice to thank him. 
Crane’s shirt was only a little bit too big on you. He’d given you a pair of lounge pants as well. It was hard to imagine Crane wearing anything like this, even in his free time. He was always so well put-together in his suits and ties. Even though you mostly only passed him in the hallways, it was hard not to notice someone who so clearly took pride in appearances.
As you reentered the kitchen, Crane snapped his phone shut. He looked up from where he was sitting at the table, one mug of steaming tea in front of him and the other at the chair perpendicular to his. He smiled, and you took your seat.
“Tow truck is on its way,” Crane told you. “It’s all taken care of. Drink your tea and then I can drive you home.”
“Thank you… again,” you said. “I really feel bad that you’re doing all this. What do I owe you for the tow?”
“Don’t worry about it. Nothing.” 
Crane waved a hand. He was still in his dress shirt, but had rolled up the sleeves. You noticed for the first time how muscular his arms were. Not absurdly so, but more like the tense, lean muscle of a jungle cat. He still wore his tie, but reached up to loosen it a bit. 
“Drink up,” Crane continued. “It was cold out there. You’re shaking like a leaf.”
You raised the mug to your lips. Crane watched you, maybe just a little too intently, and you suddenly understood the nurse’s comment about him. He did have a disconcerting quality, just below his carefully curated surface. But still, he had been nothing but nice, and so what if he was a little socially awkward? The tea passed smoothly over your lips; the perfect temperature, but still hot enough to warm your throat.
“Delicious,” you commented. It felt like the warm tea was snaking its way through your body, mending aching joints that you hadn’t even realized were tense until now. “What did you put in this?”
Crane’s expression didn’t waver as he answered you. 
“Just tea… some sugar…”
It almost seemed like he was about to say more, but didn’t.
“Just sugar?” you asked.
You took another sip. The flavor was unlike any tea you’d had before; there was a complexity to it that you couldn’t put your finger on. A sweetness that somehow tasted different than usual.
Crane smiled, and said nothing. He took a sip of his own tea, carefully replacing the mug when he was finished.
A rumble of thunder shook through the apartment, and you jumped in your seat.
“Afraid of storms?” Crane asked. Casually, but with a glimmer of interest.
“Not really,” you replied, embarrassed. “Just a little jumpy, I guess.”
You took another long gulp of your tea. The mug was already half empty, and you could still feel the warm liquid soothing you. You were getting more relaxed by the minute. Strangely so. And something else was happening, too. A flutter in the very bottom of your stomach; like you were back in middle school at your first co-ed dance, building up the trembling courage to talk to a boy you liked. You looked up from your mug at Crane, to see that he was staring intensely at you.
“Um, I’m sorry,” you began, not quite sure where you were going with the sentence. “I’m just…” “Feeling okay?” Crane asked. 
There was concern in his voice, but his tone didn’t match the expression on his face. He was rapt; observing you like a rat in a maze. Like he was trying to read what was going on behind your eyes, which now felt like they were bugging out of your head.
“I…”
A new sensation rippled through your body, ending in a sharp pang right between your legs. You gasped, and your eyes went even wider. With shaking fingers, you reached out toward the mug in front of you.
“What the hell did you put in this?” you whispered.
Crane ignored your question. Your heart was pounding as he dragged his chair closer to you, leaning in so that his blue eyes were level with yours.
“What are you seeing?” Crane asked. “Rats, spiders? Does the room look normal to you?”
“What??”
He wasn’t making sense. You didn’t understand his words - and yet, you did, because as you looked around the room, it did seem to swirl in front of you. The bright fluorescent lighting took on an impossibly harsh tone, making shadows appear in all of the far-off corners. They started creeping closer to you, darkening the sides of your vision.
“Snakes are a pretty popular one,” Crane continued, his voice now clinical. “Do you see snakes?”
What was he talking about? Rats, spiders, snakes? Either this apartment needed way more renovations than you’d thought, or Crane had lost his mind. 
“I don’t know what you’re- ah!”
You were cut off mid sentence as another wave of something moved through you. Horrified, you finally recognized what it was. Desire.
Crane seemed to realize it at the same moment, watching you miserably cross and squeeze your legs. 
“Fascinating…”
His eyes trailed over you almost lazily as he took in your whole, writhing body. You weren’t sure how you had managed to stay in your chair this long. As whatever had been in the tea took hold of you, your heart raced faster and faster, and you felt an ever-building need to be touched. By yourself, by anyone. Even… The idea of it repulsed you, but that didn’t stop the want.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Crane observed. “Tell me: do you have a fear of intimacy, or does being afraid just turn you on?”
You wanted to spit insults at him and tell him to fuck off. But you were immobilized by a pressure that seemed to squeeze all the air out of your lungs. You had never felt such pure terror before. Your body was too hot; a weightless, flaming heat pulsed through your every limb. And woven through all of it was that gnawing, primal hunger that started deep inside of you and seemed to try and claw its way out. 
Crane sat calmly across from you. He took off his glasses and folded them neatly in front of him on the table. His eyes shined with something that looked like lunacy; ten times brighter now, without the thin pane of glass obscuring them.
“Based on the way that you don’t seem to be bothered by anything else… I’m going to assume it’s the first one,” he said.
It infuriated you that he was right. You’d had bad experiences with intimacy, and they had shaped you into a woman who was fearful of her own sexuality. You had no idea what Crane had spiked your drink with. But whatever it was, it was bringing those fears to the forefront of your mind; forcing you to face them instead of pushing them down deep - where they belonged, you thought bitterly. You couldn't ignore the arousal that creeped through you, clouding your mind even as it terrified you. And the worst part of all of this was that Crane was here to watch. There was, ironically, no greater intimacy than fear. Your fear was the most personal, private part of you.
You took a deep breath, and pushed up from your chair, hands still shaking as you braced them against the table. You were going to get out of here, you promised, even if you had to do it through clenched teeth.
“Impressive,” Crane remarked. “You’re actually trying to fight through it.”
He stood up, easily, and hovered next to your hunched form. You looked up at him, trying to force as much hatred into your eyes as you could, despite the intense pain and arousal that wracked your body. With great difficulty, you stood up straight to face him. It felt like you were about to pass out, but you stood your ground.
“I really don’t know where you think you’re going, though,” Crane said calmly. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.”
Just as you were wondering what he could possibly mean by that, Crane's lips came crashing into yours. You let out a muffled cry - half of shock, but half, to your ever-growing horror, of need. You mewled against his mouth, disgusted with yourself, but unable to stop. Your eyes were blown wide. Crane’s were closed, his brows furrowed almost in concentration, as he wrapped his arms around you.
When Crane finally broke the kiss, you could feel your lips starting to bruise. He smiled wickedly down at you.
“I’m going to have a lot of fun with you,” he growled. “Does that bother you?” The drug - whatever it was - still had a powerful hold on you. But you could feel yourself slowly regaining control of some of your faculties. Probably, you could have answered him. Still, you refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that, yes , what he'd said had terrified you.
“Well, it should,” Crane replied to your silence. His tone was still clinical, almost detached, as he continued. “You’re going to do whatever I want you to, or else this is going to get a lot worse for you. Do you understand?”
You didn’t want to answer him, but something within you was starting to slip. You were losing the fight to stave off your own submission. You nodded.
“Good.” Crane kept smiling at you, his eyes now blazing. “You know, I think you like it when I’m mean to you.”
You hated the way that your thighs clenched around his words. The way you could feel the blood rush to your clit. You were practically throbbing. 
“That’s good for me to know,” Crane continued. “But maybe not so good for you.”
You yelped as he lifted you up, forcing you to straddle his waist. Crane was a lot stronger than he looked. Outside, the storm continued to rage; you could hear the rain roaring against the windows.
“I have to say, I really didn’t expect things to go like this,” Crane said as he carried you through the apartment. You were heading down the hallway, but not into the guest room you had been in earlier. “I’m usually not the type to put out on a first date,” he joked. Suddenly, you were thrown down, landing roughly on what felt like a bed. “And I doubt you are either. You know… considering…”
As you lay on the bed looking up at him, Crane pulled at his tie and took it off, throwing it down next to you. Next came his belt. He untucked his shirt and started to work on the buttons, his hands moving nimbly down the front of his body. He wore no undershirt, and you hated yourself for staring at the way his bare chest peeked out from behind the fabric. Leaving his white shirt on but unbuttoned, he climbed onto the bed to hover over you.
“But I think we can make an exception just this once - don’t you?” His lips hovered inches away from your ear, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice.
The rage that you felt momentarily pushed aside the fear that was still swirling inside of you. Scrambling to grab at the moment, you pushed his body with all of your might, trying to throw him off you.
You might as well have been pushing against a brick wall. Crane stayed exactly where he was, chuckling as he shrugged your hand off.
“Oh, honey,” he said, his voice full of pity. “I like it when you fight.”
He kissed you again, even more roughly than before. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip, and you swore you could taste blood. You thrashed below him, trying to kick out but unable to because of how tightly his body was pressed to yours. You scratched at his back, but that only made him moan greedily. Out of other options, you tried to bring your hands to his throat.
“Oh.” Crane broke away from you, just slightly, enough to snatch your hands away and slam them against the bed. “So that’s what you’re into. You can just use your words, you know; I want this to be good for you, too.”
With one hand keeping both of yours pinned, Crane brought his other hand down to your neck. Your eyes widened with fear, and he seemed to drink in your desperation. Frozen, you willed yourself to fight back, but couldn’t. Crane’s fingers ghosted over the soft skin of your neck for a moment as he looked at you.
With a wicked smile, his hand clamped down on your throat. Your vision was already clouded from whatever drug he had slipped to you, and now the sides of it seemed to close in, trapping you in your own body as his hand tightened. It wasn’t enough to actually hurt you, but the panic it caused made your heart rate spike more than you would have thought possible. You felt your pulse thump against his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut and started to breathe quickly, in short, desperate gasps. Crane’s hand that was holding your wrists in place came down to tug at the hem of your pants.
“Shhh,” he soothed. “Breathe through it and focus on me.” His voice, gentle but commanding, was in stark contrast to the way his hands hungrily moved over you. You opened your eyes to see his cool blue ones staring back at you. He had somehow wrestled you out of your pants - the ones he had given you less than twenty minutes ago - dragging your underwear down along with them, and you lay beneath him in nothing but your borrowed shirt, tears streaming down the sides of your face.
“You’re so pretty like this,” Crane said, one hand still on your neck. The fingers of his other hand started to trace small patterns on your hip. “Scared, such a mess, crying for me. Sorry if I cum too quick; it’s just hard not to get riled up when you’re like this.”
Crane unzipped his pants and pushed them down to his thighs. You didn’t want to look at him, but you could feel him pressing against the inside of your leg. He was clearly enjoying this.
You let out a choked sob, and Crane’s smile grew. He was pressing against your entrance, threatening to take you at any moment he wanted.
“You’re wet,” he commented. “You’re actually turned on by this.”
No, you told yourself. No, you weren’t; it was just the drug he had given you. Some kind of fucked up aphrodisiac that was making your body function independently from your mind. You didn’t want this. But then, why did you feel such a rush every time his hands brushed against you?
“Fear is exhilarating, isn’t it?” Crane said quietly, still hovering just on the edge of penetrating you. “Some people find it addictive. Seems like you might be one of them.” He let out a short laugh as he pressed just a bit more into you, inch by devastating inch. “It makes the mind so malleable,” he continued. “Just think: less than an hour ago, you were so afraid and alone that you agreed to come with me - a man you barely know - back to my apartment, alone. That was a bad choice. I’m sure you realize that now. But in that moment, you were so pathetic and vulnerable, I think I probably could have gotten you to do anything.”
You tried not to listen to him; to block his words out. This wasn’t your fault. He was your coworker - a senior member of the staff, for fuck’s sake. You should have been able to trust him. But you had, and look where it had gotten you.
“Now here you are,” Crane continued. You realized with a gasp that he was fully inside of you. “Still just a scared little girl, shaking in my bed. Crying her eyes out.”
“No,” you said weakly, tears still streaming down your face. “No, no, no…”
Crane removed his hand from your neck, and placed his elbows on either side of you, caging you within his arms.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like this,” he spat. “I feel you clenching around me. Maybe I was wrong; maybe it is just being scared that gets you off.”
Now that your hands were free, you brought them to grip at his shirt collar, trying again desperately to push him off. You tried to wriggle away from him, but all that did was make Crane moan at the friction and laugh at your struggling. 
“Slow down, honey,” he warned you, his voice thick with sex. “I already warned you how fast you’re gonna make me cum.”
One of his hands found your hip, stopping you and holding you in place. Once he had you submissive again, Crane started to move his hips in slow circles, relishing the feel of you. Despite yourself, you arched your back and grabbed at the sheets with your fingers. He felt good. A fresh round of tears sprang to your eyes as you moaned loudly.
“That’s it,” Crane praised. “Cry for me. Beg me to stop, hit me, scratch me - it doesn’t matter. None of it changes the fact that you’re enjoying this.”
Again, you hated him for being right. Even through the fear - even knowing how horrible what he was doing to you was - somehow, you only wanted more. The room swirled around you, shadows creeping in on your vision again. 
You gasped as Crane’s thumb found your clit. You had been on the edge of an orgasm practically since Crane’s drug had entered your system, and it took everything in you to fight the feeling that was building as he pressed on your most sensitive spot. 
“Don’t be shy,” Crane pushed. “You can rub yourself against me; pull my hair if you want. Whatever you need to get off. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”
You hated Crane. You hated him so much - for what he was doing to you, for how he was enjoying it, and most of all for how he was making you powerless to fight against the pleasure. Making your own body a traitor against you. It was obscene and embarrassing and terrifying. With a flash of passion, you reached up and slapped him across the face.
“Ohhhhh, fuck,” he growled.
It was the first time you’d heard him swear, and the realization sent a new heat pooling between your legs. Crane, usually so organized and meticulous, was starting to come apart.
“You have no idea how good you’re making this for me,” Crane teased. A few strands of hair, slick with sweat, were sticking against his forehead. “You’d better be careful, or I’m not gonna be able to pull out of you in time.”
You cried out, half in frustration and half because of the way his thumb was still brushing against you with every shallow thrust of his hips. Everything you tried to do to him only spurred him on more. Your face contorted in anguish, eyes staring up at the ceiling as an orgasm finally ripped through you.
Crane was babbling in your ear - god, he never shut up. You weren’t even paying attention; too focused on your own private nightmare that was unfolding but never seeming to end. You bucked against his hand, involuntarily pushing his cock deeper, and heard him utter a breathless curse.
“Shit.”
When you were conscious of your body again, the first thing you noticed were the wet ropes of cum squirting across your breasts. You still wore Crane’s t-shirt, and the damp fabric pressed against your skin as Crane rutted into his hand above you. Disgusting. He was so depraved. So unbelievably fucking creepy. So hot.
You shook your head. That was just the drug talking. Crane flopped down on the bed next to you, smiling. Pleased with himself. It made you shudder. He let out a satisfied breath.
“Well, again, not what I was expecting,” Crane grunted, sitting up to balance on one elbow as he looked at you. “But I’m certainly not complaining.”
His blue eyes looked at you, making you squirm under the intensity. Without warning, he pinched your chin between his fingers and held you in place for a long, horrifically sensuous kiss.
“I think you and I are going to have a lot of fun together.”
Outside, thunder crashed again, and you jumped.
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gators-aid · 4 months
Text
decode (pt. 3) - toji f. x reader
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masterlist
part two | part four
previously titled: leave us
you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.
tags: fem!reader, cheating, underage (mentions they have sex, but nothing explict, toji and reader are high school freshmen), mentioned eating disorder (not really a disorder, reader just forgets to eat, tag is just in case), mention of domestic abuse (not between toji & reader), americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(
wc: 3.4k
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You had met Toji in your first year of high school at some house party. Some sophomore that Utahime knew was throwing it, giving the two of you an in. 
You and Utahime had been dancing on the dude’s couch, bottles in hand. You had never really drank before, but you made sure to keep yourself aware enough to get the two of you home by the end of the night. Your house was a fifteen minute walk from here, and your plan was to sneak the two of you through your window before three. 
That’s when you saw him. He was leaning against the wall talking to some girl. Just by his looks, you thought he might have been a couple years above you. He was tall, taller than most guys in the house, and definitely more muscular. You were immediately attracted, Utahime giggled at you once she saw where you were looking. “You should go talk to him!” She slurred, still moving to the sound of the music with you. 
“Seems like he’s got his hands busy.” You whisper-yelled over the music. He had them all over that girl.
“Utahime!” You heard from below the two of you. Hakari, the guy whose house this was (and your future coworker), held on to her hand as she almost stumbled over to look down at him. “We’re gonna play seven minutes in heaven! Y’all wanna come?” 
“That’s fucking corny!” Utahime giggled, “Let’s go, Y/N!” The two of you followed in a straight line behind Hakari to a relatively empty, but still extremely loud hallway. You all sat down in a circle with a group of students you didn’t recognize. 
“Hey, you guys weren’t gonna start the fun without us, right?” You hear from behind you. It’s the guy from earlier. He pushes his hair (you think it's black, but can’t tell from the lighting) back and takes a swig of a beer bottle. The girl from earlier is with him, along with another guy you didn’t recognize. 
“Toji, let us use that bottle. Hakari broke the other one!” One guy yells over the music. “Thought this was seven minutes in heaven,” A girl with stark white hair begins, “You don’t need a bottle for that game.” 
“Too much work to write everyone’s names down, there’s a bunch of freshmen here. I don’t know them.” Hakari responds. 
“Scoot over!” The tall guy, Toji, yells at you over the music, and you do. Allowing his group of three to squeeze in next to you. Utahime giggles and leans over your lap to address him. “Hey!” She yells, almost falling over your lap. “What’s your name? My friend Y/N-”
“I’ll go first!” you yell, hoping to silence her before she can say anything embarrassing.
“Wheeeew look at the brave young freshman!” Hakari yells. “Hey, what’s your name again?” You ignore him and spin the bottle. 'Damn,' you think, 'I’m actually going to have to go into a closet with someone after this.' You just wanted to interrupt Utahime. 
It lands on some guy you don't recognize.
“Wee woo wee woo!” Hakari yells, mocking a police siren. “New rule, freshman and senior pairings will not be allowed! Go again!” he yells at you. The group bursts out laughing as you grab the bottle to spin again. 
The bottle spins and spins until it lands on… the girl that Toji was making out with earlier. She makes a face and looks at you. “I’m not into girls, sorry!” She yells. 
“I am!” Utahime announces to the group. 
“What the hell, Takako, you have such a dirty mind!” Hakari says. You can feel Toji eyeing you. It’s slightly unsettling. “Seven minutes in heaven does not imply romantic or sexual advances!” 
She scoffs, “Then why didn’t you let her go in there with Kenjaku?” You’re doing everything you can to avoid Toji’s gaze. Seriously, what was this dude’s problem? Was there something on your face? Did your makeup come off to reveal the big ass pimple on your cheek? Shit, you knew you should’ve used more setting spray.
“Because it’s my duty to protect the young women attending my party, Takako! Better safe than sorry.” 
Suddenly, you see a hand go down to the bottle and tilt it slightly. It’s Toji, and he’s pointed the bottle directly at himself. “Well, would you look at that! Seems like the bottle has mysteriously landed on me and not Takako!” He yells over the music. 
You take this time to finally look him in the face. From this close, you notice the scar on the side of his lip, his piercing green eyes. 
“But…” you say, confused, “they said no seniors and freshmen.” 
The group bursts into laughter. “Don’t know if I should be offended or not.” He says. 
“He’s in our year, Y/N!” Utahime exclaims, “He’s in my algebra class, I couldn’t remember his name though…” 
“Wait, this isn’t how it works!” Takako says, panicked. Now that you’ve already looked at Toji, you can see her arm locked into his, she’s yelling into the group’s circle. 
“The bottle lands where it lands!” Toji says, throwing his arms up. “Come on, mama,” he starts, untangling from Takako. “We got seven minutes.”
He grabs your arm and leads you to the hall closet. You can hear whoops and whistles from behind you, but you don’t know if it’s from your small group or from the rest of the party goers. 
He turns the light on, and the two of you push back winter coats to make room in the closet. He closes the door behind the two of you. For a moment he’s quiet. He just looks at you. “You’re really pretty.” He says, leaning against the door, a little too cockily for a high school freshman. 
“Thanks.” You say quietly. It’s a little less loud in the closet, music muffled by the bundle of winter coats. “Is um.. Is Takako your girlfriend or something?”
He laughs, “Why do you ask?” 
“Because it’s pretty fucked up if you took me in here with her sitting right out there.” 
He smiles. “Nah.” He says, leaning closer to you. “She’s not.” 
You can feel his breath on your face, and smell his cologne from here. It’s a little strong, you can smell the beer in his breath too. “She’s into you though,” you say. He leans closer and you put your hand gently on his chest. Your lips are millimeters apart. “That was kinda mean,” He laughs again. “To be really, really honest, I don’t give a fuck about her.” 
“That's really mean.” You respond, and suddenly your lips are on each other. This isn’t your first kiss, but Toji makes it feel like it is. You two grasp onto each other desperately, hold onto each other like you’ve known each other for years, like he’s a long lost love. 
It doesn’t escalate from there, you two just kiss and kiss and kiss. 
You don’t notice how long it’s been until you hear a knock on the door. Toji pulls away from your face and rests his forehead on yours. “Damn.” He says, licking his lips. 
That night, Toji had offered to drive you and Utahime home. You had spent the last couple hours at the party together, you continued drinking while Toji refrained, wanting to drive you home. 
He had helped you sneak Utahime into your bedroom. In your time spent with Toji, you hadn’t noticed her drinking more and more, so by the time you got her into Toji’s car, she was passed out cold. 
You had held Utahime in your arms as Toji climbed into your window and pulled her through. You climbed in after. 
“Thank you so much.” You said to him as the two of you lay her in your bed. “You’re seriously a life saver.” 
“It’s no problem, anything for a pretty lady like you.” You rolled your eyes. 
He climbed back out your window, turning around to face you one more time before you left. You lent onto your window sill and smiled at him. “I’ll see you on Monday?” you asked. He smiled back. “I’ll see you then.” He lent up and kissed you on the lips once more before turning back around and walking to his truck. 
You did see him on Monday. And almost every Monday after. 
You and Toji became incredibly close incredibly fast. Toji clung to you for affection, you clung to him for attention. You sat together at lunch everyday. He’d buy you Cokes from the overpriced vending machine and you’d invite him into your bedroom everytime it got to be too much at home. You guys never officially started dating, it just seemed like it happened overnight. 
He never came over during the day. You were too nervous to tell your mother and he was too nervous to meet her. 
She didn’t know you even had a boyfriend until Toji cheated on you. Not the best introduction. You were working late at the diner, you often did on weekends to speed up the process of your college fund. It was Shoko who had told you. 
She, Geto, and Gojo had come to the diner after leaving a party. They were all clearly a little tipsy, so one of the older servers had passed them off onto you. “I’m not dealing with definitely-not-drunk teenagers at this time of night. I’m ready to go home.” 
“Oh my god! I know you! You’re Y/N! We’re in the same government class!” Geto slurred. You smiled at him. “How are you guys doing? You go to Hakari’s party?” You asked.
“Yeah! It was really fun, but Gojo’s curfew is at one so we gotta get him sobered up.” Geto supplied.
“Hey, Y/N, are you still with Toji? I see you too together alllllll the time at school.” Gojo slurred. You laughed. “Kind of.” You and Toji had gotten into an argument that afternoon. Toji was going to that same party, and you, having to work, couldn’t go with. Somehow, it turned into an argument about who does more for who. You weren’t broken up, and you weren’t on a break, but you were both certainly angry with each other. 
“Ohhhh what the fuck?” Gojo said, looking wide-eyed at his friends. They all looked between each other, clearly confused and talking to each other through their facial expressions. 
“Uhh, Y/N, can you just get us some waters, and can you get Gojo like an omelet or some shit?” Shoko says. “Uhh yeah! Of course!” 
“No mushrooms!” Gojo shouts as you walk away. You turn and give him a thumbs up. 
That whole night, you could feel the tension from the table. Like they all felt bad for you. Like they pitied you. After they paid the bill and Geto and Gojo walked out, Shoko called you over. “Hey, Y/N, you almost done working?” She asked. 
“Yeah, you guys were my last table for tonight. What’s up?” 
“Look,” she says, “I don’t know what’s up with you and Toji, it’s not my business, but I think you should probably know he and Takako were all over each other at Hakari’s tonight.” She looked into your eyes to gauge a reaction. 
Your heart had dropped. You could feel your fingertips tingling like you had lost all the blood in them. They felt lighter than the rest of your body. “Oh, uh, yeah it's not a big deal.” You say. You start to wring your hands on your waist apron. “Thanks for letting me know, though.” You attempt a smile at her. She looks at you with pity and concern, until you can almost visibly see her say ‘fuck it’ in her head. She leans in and gives you a hug. 
You vowed it not to be true, but Shoko had no reason to lie to you. Gojo and Geto had no reason to act so strange when you mentioned you’re still with Toji. Shoko bringing up Takako was not a coincidence. 
You squeeze her back and you can feel your breathing picking up. “T-Thank, um, Thank you.” you say. 
You didn’t call him when your shift was over for him to pick you up as usual, instead opting to take the bus route. You got home that night, thankful to see that your mother had already gone to sleep. You ignored the food she left for you in the fridge and went straight to the shower.
You didn’t cry until you got into bed, when you could smell his cologne on your pillow. You stayed like that for hours. Curled up, silently sobbing, until you heard a light knocking on your window. You knew who it was. The only person it could be, 
“Y/N?” He whispered through the window. He sounded panicked. You could hear the pane slide up and him climb in. 
“Oh, shit, thank god.” He whispered, climbing into your bed. His voice was shaking. “Hey, you awake, mama?”
You turned around to face him. “You had me scared, baby.” He said, moving your hair out of your face. “You never called after your shift. Just ‘cause you’re mad at me doesn’t mean I won’t come get you.”
“You fucked her, didn’t you?” You asked, your voice cracking.
“Huh?” 
“You. Fucked. Her. Didn’t. You?” 
His hand froze on your cheek. 
You sat up in your bed. “You fucked her, and then you wanted to come and see me after?” You asked, voice rising with each word. 
“Hey-”
“What?” You ask. You’re fully yelling now. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Y/N, stop yelling.” He warns. He stands up from the bed. You stand up and get in his face.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Toji!” You pushed his chest. He didn’t move an inch. “You don’t get to come in here, acting like you’re all worried about me! Acting like you give a fuck!” You were full on sobbing by now.
“Y/N-”
“What the hell is going on in here?” You hear your door swing open and whip around to see your mother standing at the door with a baseball bat in hand. 
Shit.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house? Get the hell out of here!” 
Toji books it out the window, looking at you one last time before leaving. 
“What the hell are you thinking, Y/N? You have a boy in here?” She yells at you. “You’re too young for this! Doing this under my roof, are you insane?” 
You just stand there staring at the floor. “Mom?” You ask, voice cracking. She sets the bat down by your door and rushes to your side. “Did he hurt you? Y/N? What did he do?” You cling onto the back of her shirt and cry into her neck. “Mom-” Is all you can get out before you’re violently shaking and you can feel your knees give out. 
It’s a week later when you see Toji again. Your mother had let you stay home from school for a day, and when you got back, Toji was nowhere to be found. 
Word got around school quickly. If it hadn’t been Shoko who told you, It could’ve been ten other people. Utahime and Saori, another girl you befriended, became your lunch buddies, taking Toji’s place. 
You didn’t want to seem as hurt as you felt, not with Takako grinning at you in the halls every time she saw you. 
He was at your window that night. You didn’t have work, and had taken the free time to catch up on some assignment you had missed. You heard a knock on your window and immediately tensed. “Fuck.” You whispered to yourself when you heard the pane slide up. 
You hadn’t even thought about locking your window. Didn’t expect Toji to want anything to do with you. 
“I saw the light on." He explained, like it gave him the right to come in, "Can we talk?” He whispered, “and can you not yell?” You didn’t look up at him. He towered over you from where you sat at your desk. “Can’t promise you anything.” You said. You pretended to work on an algebra problem, but you couldn’t focus with him in the room. 
“Come with me to my truck then.” He pleads. You tap your pencil on the wooden desk and turn your head to look up at him. He looks a mess. Hair mussed like he hadn’t brushed it in days, clothes rumpled and stained. His right eye sports a fading black ring around it. 
You bite your lip. You refuse to show any concern, but you're too curious. You point your pencil at his eye, “What happened there?” He stares at you for a second.
“Can you come or not?” He asks. This would be a common occurrence throughout the rest of your relationship. Toji showing up with a new bruise and brushing you off when you question it.
“Can you answer my question?” You taunt back. 
“Please, Y/N.” 
You sigh and throw your pencil down on the desk. “I’m doing homework, Toji.” You respond. 
“Please.” He begs. 
You know you shouldn’t. You and your mother had had a lengthy conversation just this morning. “You need to stay away from boys like him.” she said as she moved around the kitchen to prepare you breakfast. This hadn’t been a common occurrence until she noticed you had stopped eating. It wasn’t intentional, you just didn’t have the energy for it anymore. “They don’t do anything but lead you down a path you don’t want to go down, Y/N.” She says, placing a plate of eggs and toast in front of you. “He’s showing you who he is right now. Believe him.” 
You contemplated it. You knew, deep down, that you shouldn’t. Knew you should’ve called for your mom the second he tapped on your window. But you didn’t. 
“Okay.” 
The two of you crawled out of your window and walked a few houses down to Toji’s truck, parked in an abandoned parking lot. The two of you hop in at the same time. You had suddenly wished you grabbed your coat. It wasn’t necessarily cold, you just wanted something to comfort you. 
“I fucked up.” There it is. His voice, even if he’s saying something incredibly delusional and ridiculous, that is your comfort. He turns in his seat to face you. You do the same, your foot coming up to rest in the seat. 
“I really, really fucked up.” 
“So what’s your excuse?” You ask. You know it’s a bit hurtful. That was a little intentional.
“I just.. I don’t have one.” 
You think about that for a second. “Sooo…” you begin with a laugh, suddenly ten times more bitter than before. “You had sex with another girl… just because?” You ask.
He has nothing to say to that. 
“What am I to you, Toji?” 
He looks at you for a second like he’s pondering. Trying to put it into words, or maybe trying to come up with something. You didn’t know. 
“Everything.” He says, finally.
You smile. It’s a nasty, bitter smile. “That so?” You ask. “I’d hate to see how you treat someone you hate. Gotta be pretty bad.”
“Baby..”
“I’m sorry if I’m misunderstanding you here.” You say, you put your foot back onto the floor of his truck. “You brought me out here, interrupted me, mind you, to what? Tell me that you cheated on me because you felt like it?” 
You don’t think you’ve ever been this angry in your life. You get out of the car. Not waiting for a response. You slam the door, briskly walking back home. 
“Y/N! Come the fuck on!” You can hear him slamming the door and following you. “Don’t walk out here by yourself.” He’s being dramatic. Your house is literally within your field of vision. You can hear his feet rushing to catch up to you. You turn around and point your finger at his chest. “Leave me the fuck alone.” You say with as much conviction as you can muster. 
He does. 
When you get back home, you realize you had left your phone on your desk next to your abandoned algebra homework. You have a message from Utahime waiting for you. When you open your flip phone up, you read
hime <3: wanna go 2 hakari’s w me this fri?
Suddenly you have an idea. Make him hurt like you did. Maybe a little worse, if he cared about you at all, that is. Deep down you knew he did. Even if only a little. 
you: ofc :)
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longer chapter for tonight! i'm having fun writing this! thank you for the support!
i changed the name to decode because i was listening to it while writing this chapter and it was a little bit too perfect. everybody say thank you hayley williams.
other songs i listened to while writing include
breaking benjamin - diary of jane
foo fighters - everlong
bts (suga) - trivia: seesaw
paramore - all i wanted
i feel like im on drugs rn
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tag list, comment to be added
@mechalily @nialiuwanderlust @xo-evangeline @ilovebattinson @cherrypieyourface @amaiyasha @erensslut
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khuzena · 3 months
Text
Just a coworker
Dr ratio x g/n!reader (i tried)
Part 1, Part 2
cw. angst, super slow burn, they eventually get tgt, hurf/comfort, jealousy brr, reader is unhinged, mentions of drugs, kinda cringe but who cares I've written worse, not proofread, dr ratio is a pussy
a/n: I HATE LIFE SJNAANAN
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A week passed and you got the jist of it, you were already done with the basics but everytime that man always found a reason to keep tutoring you.
You were grading some papers until you felt someone looming over you and snooping around your laptop.
“Hey!”
“Do you really need to shout?”
You hid your laptop away from him as he pried for any more info, causing you to kick his leg.
“Who’re you talking to?”
“Why the hell would you care? Plus im grading some papers, you asshole”
You typed away as he didn't leave your side, just watching you input some values— damn one of your students got a 2/100? Might as well make them repeat a grade.
“Which idiot fails literature? More or less just essay writing?”
“Uh…”, you paused, your other hand getting your coffee and sipping on it, “An illiterate person?”
No other words were shared as you two just sat in silence, him staring at the grading sheet and you typing away on your keyboard.
It was a quiet day, peaceful even. If it weren't for a fight that broke out at the food court. You should mind your business, but your favourite student had been gravely injured; worry comes easy.
You ran to the student, one hand rested on his leg as it bled, “Hey, stay with me— breathe.”
Your student, Mike, had been buying some coke from some guy in your coworker’s class, turns out Mike got scammed and well, you did not know the full story to take any full action but the blood shed was enough to panic.
“Mike, Mike!”
You held him, you were not an expert at cpr or had any training on how to deal with that much bleeding or anything about dealing with concussions.
Shit, shit.
“We need a doctor!”
Despite your desperate yelling, none were brave to come forth to help, the others just recording or covering their eyes.
What were you supposed to do?
You held onto mike as the others tried to restrain the guy that hurt him, this was bad.
Until you saw Veritas buying some coffee at the new coffee shop from weeks ago.
“Hey you!”
Veritas does not flinch, he does not respond.
“DOCTOR VERITAS RA—”
He groaned, about to run away yet you yelling his full name was enough to make him regret not buying earplugs prior to this incident.
He walked up to you and your student as he kneeled at the both of you’s level.
“What exactly happened?”
No matter how much he hates you and your guts, he still has a duty as a doctor.
“Some asshole beat him up, fuckin’ hell”
He doesn't say anything, before laying Mike down in a more comfortable position and getting a pill from his pocket.
“What's that?”
“Tylenol”
He forced open Mike's mouth and shoving down a pill.
“Isn't that a tad bit aggressive?” Mike was near choking as you patted his back and elevated his seating position.
“So it's better to airplane the pill in his mouth like he's 2 and let him die then?”
“That's not what I meant.” you sneered before some guys from the medical department ran to your side and took care of it.
Now you two were just standing behind the infirmary door and waiting for any update.
“I'm going to miss my class because of you.”
You laughed, the audacity of this man?
“Then go, I didn't ask you to stay.”
It's so hard to read this man when he has his alabaster head on, you can't even tell what he's thinking.
“You talk too much”
“You started it!”
“Just stop talking”
“Whatever.”
You peaked through the window and saw Mike unconscious on his bed, even though it wasn't your fault, it feels like it is…
You sighed as the nurse left the room, standing still before she spoke, “He's fine. It's good that you and Dr. Ratio was there.”
“Uhh yeah…”
You really didn't do much…
Veritas stayed silent as the nurse left, he's not one to like small talk.
“huff… huff… finally.”
You raised an eyebrow, before registering whose voice it was, your eyes lighting up.
“Amir!”
“Whew… I had to end class early, I learned about what happened too late.”
“It's not your fault”
Amir sighed while leaning so ungodly close to you, before Veritas had some audacity left in him to make a comment, “Actually, it is.”, he really has no shame does he?
“I apologise.”
“Now you're just being rude.”
Veritas turned away, can't that man just leave you both alone?
“I don't care. It was both your student's that got into this mess.”
“I have over a hundred students, how could I monitor all of them?”
“Yet you still have to take responsibility for it. I can't believe you let it get to that level.”
“Then leave, if you're just gonna be rude then shut up.”
Amir's jaw hung when he heard you literally tell the Dr. Ratio himself to shut it, not even the people from the IPC would have this level of audacity. It was your last straw, you've already dealt with enough bullshit for the day.
Usually, he would have some snarky reply up in his sleeves but what's crazy is that he just walked away.
“Did you just—”
“I did.”
“Wow.”
You were already about to go home as it was getting late, who knew having to shoulder the aftermath of that fight would be that tiring? No shit sherlock.
Peace and quiet, no one to bother you—
“You there.” that familiar voice echoing in the hallways as loud stomps were nearing your direction.
You spoke too soon. Why him of all people?
“You didn't come to today's tutoring session.”
You crossed your arms, looking up at him. Wow. He wasn't wearing his alabaster head? Can't say that it's new but the opportunity to stare at his face was a rare occurrence. But, he infuriates you too much that you'd rather kiss mud than oogle at him.
“And?”
“What do you mean ‘and’? I was waiting for you.”
You eyed him up and down, he did look upset. But did he really think you'd have the energy to confront him, much less see him after what happened today?
“I told you I wouldn't be able to attend tutoring lessons as I have someone to tutor too”
“When did you say that?”
“Two days ago?”
He was baffled, utterly baffled. When did you say that? You must be lying. Despite his stone head obstructing you from any chance to see him right now, by his voice, he was fuming.
He crossed his arms, his right foot tapping aggressively, “I do not recall you saying that.”
“But I did.”, his eyebrows furrowed as you spoke with clear conviction, what do you mean you did?
“You should've told me.”
“I did.”
“Then— why are you being so difficult?”
“It's not me who's being difficult, why are you even mad?”
Like that, the words at the tip of his tongue vanished. Exactly, why was he so worked up?
“You're just using this as an excuse to not deal with the issue.”
You had enough of his bullshit. You started to walk the other way but he just couldn't leave you alone.
“And what if I am? Get lost.”
“We need to talk.”
You turned your heel and faced him, face red and hot then you pointed at him,
“About what? About how sure it's absolutely my fault about what happened today, I'm an idiot, I don't know anything!”
“Now you're just blowing the issue up into something completely different.”
“What else is there to say?”
“You—”
He got silent, biting his lip under that stone head as his temper got the best of him.
“You really are an idiot.”
“Just leave me alone.”
There were no other words exchanged as you walked away, your footsteps getting more faint as a second, another one and another pass.
He shook his head at your outburst, you really were an idiot, incompetent and… whatever. At least now that blabbermouth always peering over his shoulder is gone.
As you walked home, you couldn't help but cry. There was nothing to cry over but it was too much. The heads berating you for not paying attention to your students, that a scandal like that could ruin the university— to hell with that shit, to hell with that university.
At least you felt safe, at home, with the company of your cats.
“Meow?”
Ah.
You hugged your cat, its fur getting wet as tears dripped, you were starting to taste the saline tears as it creeped into the corners of your lips.
Your phone rang with notifications from the doctor, Wait— how'd he even get your number? shit. But god won't he just leave you alone?
With a click, the notifications died down leaving only your quiet sniffles and your cat’s purr to be heard in the living room.
You didn't have any energy to eat, to hell with your health.
You turned off the lights and plopped into your bed, your cat joining you (yay) as the soft glow of the lamp illuminated the room.
You let out a yawn, turning the lights off but there was a call notification.
‘From Unknown Number’
You felt the urge to swipe and listen to what he had to say, but it's probably bullshit.
You fell asleep.
[From Unknown Number.]
:hey.
:answer me.
:stop being so difficult and just give me 3 minutes.
:Are you there?
:idiot.
:hey.
[99 more unread messages]
Time flies, three days flew by already yet it still feels like yesterday. You feel like shit, yeah the issue has been resolved, everything's fine but why did something just feel so wrong?
It was a good rest though, bless that lady who allowed you to have a few days off.
[From Unknown Number]
:I know you're seeing this.
:Stop acting like a child.
:Come on.
:You moron.
[231 more unread messages]
Phew, when you entered the faculty room, there was no Veritas in sight. Good, good.
You laid down your satchel on your desk and readied some stuff before heading out, making sure to check all hallways before you make a move; don't want to see the Doctor so early in the morning. (checking every hallway 24/7? What is this? Fnaf?!?)
Things were uncannily peaceful today, did he not come to work today? Or… Maybe you just got really lucky that you both did not cross paths for today.
“And,” you wrote diligently on the whiteboard, “That ends our discussion for today.”
The time ticked to 4:58 pm, you could already see some of your students pack their things.
“Any questions?”
They all shook their heads no as you finally dismissed them, oh how you missed being in your classroom despite being away for merely 3 days.
Today's a lucky day, no issues, no Veritas Ratio in sight.
“Hey __”
You jolted at the sudden call of your name, your head turning from the sound as you see Amir with a worried expression.
“Oh, Amir?”
So suddenly, he pulled you into a hug.
“What're you doin—”
“I was worried.”
“About?”
“You were no contact with everyone for three days, we were all worried.”
You awkwardly laughed, Amir was a fine man, definitely not your type though. You squirmed away from his hold.
“Yeah, just needed a break”
“Oh, I see.”
He paused, “You good now?”, his tone laced with concern.
“Yeah, at least I think so.”
“That's good.”
Your best friend, he was not stupid. He was intuitive too, he eyed you like you were some sort of experiment and like with any experiment, he's made his hypothesis.
“You don't sound ‘good’”
“What do you mean?”
“Is this about Dr. Ratio?”
Bingo, right on the money. There was no use trying to lie to him, especially not after chuckling awkwardly when you got caught.
You nodded, confirming his guess, “Knew it.”
He was in deep thought as he tried to think of any and every possibility why.
“Are you guys dating or something?”
You choked on your own spit— him of all people? Is he out of his mind? At this point, the idea of getting with that socially inept man sounds like an insult.
“Are you trying to piss me off?”
“Calm down sponge bob squarepants, geez”
You groaned as he handed you a juice box. “Thanks,” you quietly muttered out.
It was 5 pm, by now, everyone's probably clocked out by now.
It's weird, a 5 pm where you don't get tutor lessons from him.
Whatever, food for thought.
As you left the faculty room, a small part in you wanted to catch a glimpse of him despite you trying to avoid him. Did you miss him? or was just not being alone at these hours too comforting?
He wasn't there. As expected.
The next day, you see Veritas, you two walk past each other, he did not spare you a glance.
“Doctor…”
Wind breezes through the both of you but you stood still as he kept walking to his class. How cold.
It was no use trying to confront him, atleast, not here.
For a second, your gaze softened but you quickly got back to your senses. This feeling was strange.
The bell rang and, as usual, everyone left. What a fulfilling job.
This week has been really quiet. Peaceful but something was missing. Your life was fun, not this mundane even before Veritas but a part of you looks for him. No no, you were just being insane or something.
The faculty room door slid open, then, just as you wished would never happen (oh really?) Veritas was at you guys’ usual tutoring spot.
You wanted to run but your bag was there. Mustering up the courage, you tiptoed and grabbed your satchel, it felt like playing a horror game with how stealthy you were trying to be.
Shit.
Your pen fell, hopefully it didn't catch his attention.
Just as you were about to go grab it, he took it and handed it to you.
You gulped and took the pen, wanting to run but you froze on the spot.
“You look stupid trying to act stealthy.”
You didn't reply, only gulping nervously as you stayed still.
“What? Say something.”
Truth is, you had nothing to say.
“Sigh, you really like making things so difficult, don't you?”
He doesn't stop you from leaving, but maybe it was you stopping yourself from leaving.
An awkward silence ensued, it was getting annoying, for him, atleast.
“Aren't you going to leave?”
You don't say anything, just standing still, again.
“Answer me.”
Why did you enter the room?
“...” Veritas walked up to you, his codex not in hand as leaned closer.
“Give me 3 minutes.”
He raised your chin with a finger, face unreadable despite his alabaster head gone. It's the third or fourth? You've lost count how many times you saw his real face. Your memory was shit.
“I just want to talk about how…”
He bit his lip, yet his eyes remained fixed on your blank expression.
“That I want to apologise for my behaviour last week.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
That same old silence, he couldn't find the right words, he doesn't know how to say sorry.
“Well…”
“Well?”
Did he stutter? That's odd; very.
“I…” His eyes leave yours, he's practised saying it but it's the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, “I'm…”
Curious eyes gaze into his conflicted ones. Can he even say it?
“So…” sorry.
“I'm sorry.”
You stare at him with shock, did he just apologise?
“Did I hear that right?”
“God damn it.”
He pulled away and walked away to his desk but you followed him, “Hey, did you mean it?”
“Why wouldn't I?”
He knew you'd react like this, he expected you to laugh, mock him or anything but you just look at him with a look of shock—
“I see.”
—And somewhat relieved of what he said.
“I'm sorry too.” He was envious of how easily you spoke those words, you were no genius, yet you were better than him at apologising.
“I shouldn't uh—”
“I just want to say that—”
You cleared your throat, licking your lips in anxiety, “You go first”
“No you—”
“No, you.”
He hung his head low, before looking in your direction.
“It was uncalled for me to treat you and that man that way.”
“I'm listening.”
“I didn't take into account that you both were probably stressed from the situation and…”
He couldn't find the words, nothing was new to him. Complex maths? Easy. Medicine? Easy. Philosophy? Done. History? Is this a joke? He knows everything!
Other than one thing.
“I'm sorry.”
Apologising.
His words brought you immense relief, it was your turn to speak. For the first time, you can read his face. He looked pitiful. Did he not get enough sleep lately?
“I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you.”
How could you just have the knack to be so… Human? That, he couldn't understand. Being genuine, felt new.
“I understand.”
“What now?”
He fixed his books on the shelf, the ones he wanted to share with you.
“I dont know.”
“I thought you knew everything?”
He rolled his eyes as you teased him for it, he shouldn't have apologised.
“Stop talking, and also.”
He handed you some wipes, what was it for?
“Your hand,” you looked down at your dominant hand, seeing whiteboard marker creases, “Clean it up.”
“Oh okay.”
You wiped the stains off, but you wondered how perceptive he was. You didn't even notice it yourself.
“How's the tutor lesson with your student?”
Ah, that guy. It's been long since you've finished tutoring him with the basics.
“Went smoothly, he passed his exam”
He hummed, he finished tidying up his desk, good that you listened to his lectures.
“What did you teach him?”
“Until just page 25”
“Huh?”
But you studied the entire book with him, if you just needed help with just page 25, the tutor session would've only taken a week.
“Did you just keep going to the tutor sessions to see me?”
“Maybe, maybe not”
A soft smile creeped up in your face as you saw him short circuit for a bit before regaining his senses.
“You jest”
“I do not.”
“So… When's the next session?”
“At my place, tonight. It's getting late.”
Oh? At his place? What a bold offer—
“Just reviewing?”
“Just reviewing.”
You laughed as he rolled his eyes, the two of you leaving the faculty room.
“Under one condition.”
You raised an eyebrow, what was he asking for now?
“A date.”
“Pardon?”
“Do I have to repeat myself?”
You choked on your spit, that's absurd— god.
“No, I heard you. Fine.”
“Agreeing that easily?”
“Do you want me to refuse?” He was starting to get cocky, might as well drag him back down to earth.
“No, you still need to learn more about Quantum Mechanics.”
“Fine.”
Veritas pulled you close to him as you both walked the sidewalk, isn't he such a gentleman?
“The tab's on you?” no way were you paying the tab, he better pay it.
He scoffed, he could feel you hold onto his arm as he made sure you were on the right side of the lane to protect you of some sort.
“Whatever, you moron. Hurry up, we still have so much to review.”
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A/N: its so bad wtf😭😭😭😢
263 notes · View notes
janeyseymour · 3 months
Text
Dancing On My Own (Tiesto Remix)
Summary: You're a Cowboys fan in Eagles territory. Melissa finds out.
WC: ~2.05k
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You have a secret- a deep, dark secret that you never ever want your fiery, die hard Eagles fan girlfriend to find out. You’re terrified of what will happen if she does. You’re a Dallas Cowboys fan. Okay, so maybe you were a second-hand Cowboys fan, but your dad bought you one of the jerseys because he absolutely adores them. And when you go home to Texas (how you ended up in the one state, one city that hates Dallas more than anything, you’ll never know), your dad always drags you to a game.
Upon moving to Philly, you took down every indication that you would ever associate yourself with the team that the Eagles love to hate. You couldn’t risk becoming an outcast before you even start your new life here.
And it did you good. You somehow land in the heart of the city, and you work for a school that absolutely bleeds Philadelphia. The principal adores the Eagles, Mr. Johnson is constantly yelling ‘Go Birds!’, Janine has a few trinkets in her room for each of the Philly Sports teams… even Gregory has come around to love Gritty. And then there’s Melissa Schemmenti. She’s had to go to court for throwing a corn cob at Ben Simmons when he pissed her off, she has ins with those who worked the demolition at the Linc,  she’s a season ticket holder for the Phillies and the Eagles… and she absolutely detests the Cowboys- more than most Eagles fans too. She’s gotten into more trouble for heckling the Dallas team than she’s willing to admit- knocking over portapotties when Cowboys fans are in them, throwing Philly cheesesteaks, hurling eggs and Molotov cocktails at the bus. 
And yet, she’s your girlfriend. How? You’re nearly perfect. You’re smart, you’re funny, you can sing and play instruments to make her swoon, you’re a wonderful teacher and great with the kids, and you’re more than easy on the eyes. And that was what she knew of you before she fell madly in love with you. 
With the season coming up, your girlfriend is more than excited. She’s been waiting for the season tickets to go on sale, but even then… if she doesn’t get them the legal way, she knows a guy.
She does end up getting them. Of course she does. And as soon as she does, she’s coming into the teachers lounge doing her happy dance and making her way over to you. She kisses you soundly before proclaiming that she is 100% taking you to an Eagles game.
“And,” she notes. “I’m gonna make sure it’s a good one… Eagles versus the fuckin’ Cowgirls! Go birds!”
She’s met with a chorus of ‘Go birds!’ right back, but you stay quiet.
She turns to you with a curious look, amused grin now gone. “Babe, aren’t you excited?!”
You shrug. “I just… haven’t ever really been into football?” you offer weakly.
“Well, I’m gonna make sure that you have a great time there. I’m gonna get you an Eagles jersey, a Jalen Hurts one, and you’re gonna have the damn time of your life!”
Again, you shrug your shoulders, looking unsure.
“Aye, if she ain’t gonna use the ticket for good, I’m right here!” Mr. Johnson points to himself. “You know we’ll have a good time.”
“Nah, Mr. J,” your girlfriend rolls her eyes. “I’m taking Y/N, and she’s gonna leave the Linc a die hard Eagles fan, right?” She looks at you in a way that tells you there’s no convincing her otherwise unless you want to out yourself right now as a fan of the Cowboys.
You just nod, knowing you can’t have this conversation in public- you do not want to be shunned by the rest of your coworkers. You could potentially lose this job; Ava has fired people for less despite the fact that she really couldn’t afford to fire them and that’s why both you and Melissa are teaching two different grades at a time.
That’s the end of that conversation.
Until she comes over to your apartment that night, ready to cook dinner for you and stay over. 
“You gonna tell me why you got so weird about going to a football game with me? Is it because we might see our students at the game?” she asks. “Because if it is, I promise you… you know Philly is pretty cool about LGBT stuff.”
“I know, I know,” you say softly. “I’ve just… could we go to a baseball game instead?” You never pledged your allegiance to any baseball team, so you would be willing to wear a Harper or Nola jersey.
“I mean, I could get us tickets to a game,” she tells you as she puts the meat into the pan to start cooking. “But I really love football and the Eagles, and that’s something I want to share with you.”
“Does it have to be a game with the Cowboys?” you ask.
She turns to you at that. “Those are the best games.”
“I-” you sigh. Deciding to just rip off the bandaid, you take off the Abbott sweatshirt that you’re wearing to reveal the Day Prescott jersey your dad had given you the last time you visited your hometown. 
Her jaw drops, and her eyes fill with a fire. “When the fuck were you gonna tell me that you were the enemy?” she seethes.
“Mel,” you say softly, trying to calm her down.
“Don’t ‘Mel’ me right now,” the redhead hisses. “What the fuck?! What the actual fuck?!”
“Melissa, honey,” you continue. “Please-”
“I- no,” she stops you from getting any closer to her when you attempt. “Don’t. Don’t you even fucking dare.”
She’s out of your house before you can say anything else, and the only thing that you can hear is the flank steak sizzling quietly in the pan on the stove.
When you get to school the next day, you head straight for her room to try to talk to her again.
“Melissa,” you knock on the door, a cup of her favorite coffee in your hands as a peace offering.
“No.”
You set the warm drink on her desk, which she promptly smacks into the garbage can under her desk. She stands hastily and storms out of the room in the direction of the staff room.
“Melissa, please!” you beg as you chase after her. “Please!”
“I have nothing to say to you,” she hisses as she rips her arm away from you when you catch her gently. She storms into the break room and heads right for the coffee mugs.
“Please!” your voice cracks, and everyone that is already gathered there turns at the commotion.
“Ooh,” Ava says. “Trouble in paradise. Spill.”
“This one-” your girlfriend, if she even still is after your reveal last night, points to you and looks at you with disgust. “-is a Cowgirls fan, and decided not to let me know until last night!”
“Boo!” Mr. Johnson heckles you. You give him a nearly murderous look.
“Just let me explain!” you plead.
“You have nothin’ to explain! You’re a traitor!” the redhead barks at you before turning back to the mugs. She slams the door as she closes it, slams her coffee mug down on the counter, and storms her way to her seat next to Barbara. She makes it so that there is absolutely no way you could sit next to her.
All eyes are on you, and you hate it. So you do what you know how to do: run.
You avoid the second grade teacher at all possible costs for the next few days, giving her the chance to cool down. Finally, at the end of the week, you attempt to talk to her.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” she huffs. She doesn’t even bother looking up from her nails. She doesn’t even give you the chance to explain yourself. “I ain’t dating no Cowgirl.”
You cry the entire way home. You lost your girlfriend, and all because of some stupid football team.
You call your father that night, a sobbing mess.
“You were dating an Eagles fan?!”
“Dad,” you cry. “Please. I don’t- I just need you to tell me that it’s all going to be okay.”
“It is,” he promises you. “But, seriously?”
You hang up on him.
He calls back a few minutes later, apologizing for his words. You forgive him of course. You love your father more than anything. 
“If you really love her, you’ll get her back… even if it means you betray our team,” he tells you.
“R-really?” you whisper.
“You’re in Philly now,” your dad sighs softly. “If you can’t beat ‘em, and the lord knows you can’t because no one can beat Philly fans, join ‘em.”
That’s all you need to hear to know what you’re going to do. “Thank you, Dad.”
“Of course, kiddo. Just know that when you come home to visit, you are back on my team.”
“I know,” you chuckle through your tears. “But if I bring Mel back home, there is to be absolutely no football talk.”
“Deal,” he laughs. “I’m not trying to get our house lit on fire.”
You thank him again, tell him you love him and hang up. 
That weekend, you go out and buy a bunch of Philadelphia sports apparel; your credit card statement this month is going to be a doozy. But if it means you’ll get Melissa back, it’ll be worth it.
On Monday, you show up in your baseball gear, rooting for the Phillies as they play against the Cincinnati Twins. It gets the redhead’s attention, just slightly. But she turns her head when you look in her direction.
You wear your Flyers gear the next day. That gets Gregory’s attention.
The Sixers are the next. Janine grins.
You had even bought a Philadelphia Union jersey that you wear on Thursday. Jacob tells you how massively underrated they are and that he thinks they deserve to have a bigger following.
When you come in on Friday, not clad in Eagles gear like Melissa thought you would be, that is the final straw for her. She has you backed into a corner telling you that you can pretend to bleed Philly all you want, but at the end of the day you’re just a traitor.
You let her get up in your face, red with anger. You know that you didn’t wear it because you’re saving it for Monday- when they play.
You actually managed to get a ticket to the game, one next to hers- not that she knows it. You thank Barbara profusely when she’s able to get you the name of Melissa’s guy and where her tickets for this game are. Your plan is to show up in your new Jalen Hurts jersey that you spent a fortune on and win her back. You don’t want to lose her. Never. 
You race home after school to change out of your green shirt that you wore to school and into your Hurts jersey and a pair of leggings. You grab the baseball cap that you bought and pop it on your head before heading out to your car.
You park your car for the ridiculous amount of money they’re charging before going to find your seat. 
As you approach though, you see someone new with Melissa- someone you’ve never seen before. She has an arm around the woman’s waist like the way she used to hold you. You convince yourself it’s just a friend and continue on your way to your seat. But then she plants a kiss to the new woman’s lips, and your world shatters.
You might be at a football game, but you should be at a Phillies game with their unofficial anthem playing.
I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her, oh no
And I'm right over here, why can't you see me? Oh no
And I'm giving it my all
But I'm not the guy you're taking home, ooh
I keep dancing on my own
So far away, but still so near
The lights come on, the music dies
But you don't see me standing here
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catscidr · 5 months
Note
Could I request head canons with reader who likes to cook and clean and is basically like a house wife. Dottore and Childe please ☺️
(o゚◇゚)ノ perhaps you can............. i did my best to try to make these not too redundant , so forgive me if they're a little repetitive sometimes. the tldr is just that they love their cute wife (you) shgjngfns ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff! domestic fluff!! talks of food, mentions of having a family, childe's part gets a teensy bit suggestive includes: fem!reader, dottore and his clones, tartaglia wc: 1,2k
-ˋˏ It’s a popular headcanon that Dottore has a sweet tooth and I’m here to contribute to it bc I’m a firm believer in the Man Bad But Secretly Soft trope.......
-ˋˏ You often find yourself baking desserts for him to eat when he gets home from work and, on the rare occasions that he’s home while you’re baking, you make him taste-test the dessert you’re currently making 
-ˋˏ He’s actually decent at baking (it’s just food science and he’s The Science Guy), however he doesn’t particularly enjoy doing it. But you do! You love doing acts of service for him, which is why you got promoted from housewife to personal-pastry-and-dessert-expert housewife (said endearingly) 
-ˋˏ Good ol’ chocolate chip cookies, maple pudding, red velvet cake, lemon meringue pie, tiramisu, mille-feuille; you'd make so many desserts that he had to buy a chef-grade refrigerator on top of your regular fridge to store them. Not that he minded of course, but sometimes he’d lightly scold you for making so many unhealthy foods (all the while being a hypocrite himself because he’s the one enabling you) 
-ˋˏ Has a mini fridge in his office full of desserts (and the occasional homemade sandwich, for variety). He always has to restock it because his segments always get into it and eat his sweets that you made for him 
-ˋˏ When he tells you about it you end up giving him two extra tupperware containers full of sweets that you insist he gives to his segments, especially the younger ones. If he doesn’t, you’ll just show up to his lab and give your freshly baked desserts to them yourself 
-ˋˏ Sometimes Dottore tries to bake with you, but you always get frustrated that he never makes the desserts look nice. He just takes up space in your shared kitchen when he tries to help; which you tell him that by staying out of your way he’s helping 
-ˋˏ You’re also the designated cook since he doesn’t really have any skills in the kitchen outside of knowing the technical stuff. The man is too busy fiddling with machines and organs to know about how to properly sear a steak 
-ˋˏ His favorite meal of yours is a simple steak paired with a good, dry Malbec. You’re always setting up the table when he gets back from work, to which he always hugs you from the back to greet you. One time you didn’t hear him come in and you accidentally dropped the plate you were holding (you made him eat it as punishment. five second rule) 
-ˋˏ On the rare times he works from home you insist that he doesn’t need to help you with chores, no matter how much he offers (which wasn’t that often to begin with, but at least he offered. like..... once). Instead, he’d get settled on the kitchen table while you wash the dishes, vacuum, etc 
-ˋˏ Some days you’d be in comfortable silence, while on other days you’d listen to him ranting about how irritating his coworkers are, or about how much he wants to fire some of his underlings because they’re “so incompetent”. Thankfully you can calm him down before he,, makes an angry phone call 
-ˋˏ You don’t get the chance to visit him at work that often, so you revel in the times where he’s able to work from home. But since you can’t go see him that often, it means you don’t see his clones either 
 -ˋˏ The older segments would refrain from asking about you (because you’re Prime’s wife, not theirs. he’s yelled at them multiple times about it. bro’s possessive) while the younger ones would consistently bother him about your whereabouts. He insists that he hates it when they ask, but inwardly he imagines how you’d take care of them. (is it to heal his inner child or to imagine how good of a mother you could be? maybe both, but he wouldn’t admit to the former) 
✧✧✧ 
-ˋˏ Childe would have been your housewife if he wasn’t a Harbinger. point blank 
-ˋˏ Buuuut, since he isn’t, he makes sure to take care of you. You’re always cleaning after him, cleaning him sometimes, and overall taking up more tasks than he thought you could (should) chew. Of course, you did it all out of love and didn’t expect him to owe you anything, but he’d feel bad if he didn’t help at least a little bit 
-ˋˏ So once or twice a week (depending on when his schedule allows it) you’ll both be cleaning the house and doing chores together 
-ˋˏ You’re both listening to music while sweeping the floor, reorganizing the pantry, wiping down the counters..... getting as much done as you can before Childe decides he’d rather have you sat up on a counter while he nestles himself closer to you 
-ˋˏ He always buys the best appliances for your sake since you’re the one that’s home most of the time. That one really expensive, cordless vacuum cleaner you saw at the store? He bought it. A duster with a retractable handle that can help you reach the top of shelves without you needing to stand on a chair to clean? Childe bought it before you could even ask. That really cute cherry-shaped deep dish with matching baking utensils you saw at the store together? He’s carrying it to your car right now 
-ˋˏ Though while he does buy really useful things, he balances it out by getting you unnecessary items. Like a frilly pink apron with Kiss the cook embroidered in cursive on it, or a soup ladle that looks like the Loch Ness monster but I digress 
-ˋˏ Childe is 100% a family man- so, as a result, he's thought about having his own family with you. After seeing you indulging Teucer and his siblings’ shenanigans, he absolutely wants to have kids with you and have you do things like read books to them, make them lunch to bring to school, etcetc 
-ˋˏ Loves to come back home from work to you, smelling the fresh aroma of dinner wafting in the air 
-ˋˏ He loves your cooking!! Can’t get enough of it, especially when he comes back from training and he’s all spent. Whether it be your homemade soup, a hearty meaty meal, or a pasta dish he’ll always devour whatever you make 
-ˋˏ You make extra portions of chicken, steak, whatever protein-filled meal when he’s bulking so he can bring leftovers to work to eat them after sparring sessions. It makes everyone else jealous (which is partly his intention lol) 
-ˋˏ Boasts about you to his coworkers and agents below him, always saying “my wife” with a lovesick smile on his face 
-ˋˏ Has a whole bunch of photos of you in his office, ranging from cute candid pictures to professional, framed photos on his desk, and a tasteful polaroid of you in his wallet. Adores showing you off to others (except the photo he has in his wallet, of course. that’s for his eyes only), so much so that sometimes his underlings try to come up with excuses to leave because he goes on and on and on........ what can he say, he loves his cute housewife !!
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violetszone · 10 months
Text
I Don't Want to See These
Lewis x ricciardo!fem!reader
From this request
Summary: While it was fun being Daniel's younger sister, your older brother was very protective, and when he heard you were having a relationship with Lewis, he didn't like it but accepted it. You loved spending time at home with Lewis and it was one of those days until Daniel walked in.
WARNINGS: Quick ending,not edited writing
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Being Daniel Ricciardo's little sister sounds fun when you say it like that.But while everyone saw the funny side of Daniel, they didn't see the protective side you know.You loved Daniel so much, he seemed like the best brother you could ever have. Even though there was a 10-year age gap between you, you got along very well, he valued you a lot, and you went to every half of him since your childhood.
Everything changed as you got older and Daniel got promoted to F1. you were interested in everyone with him, there were a lot of people in the paddock and in the outside world who loved you too, especially some drivers.especially a driver. The interest you and lewis Hamilton have had for each other since Daniel promoted to f1 was undeniable and the passion between you.And in the end, you both succumbed to it and started dating.
Of course, when Daniel heard that the two of you were dating, he wasn't too happy about the age difference between you and because he thought the atmosphere would be awkward.Actually, he was a bit right. There was a 14-year age gap between you and Lewis. It was talked about for a while, but you both didn't care and you were really in love.
You liked to spend time at home with Lewis because you didn't have much time from the races.Today was also such a day that you and Lewis were watching a movie in your room together, of course, it can be said that you were making out more because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. You totally forgot that Daniel was going to come and get your bike from you, under Lewis, you were enjoying his kisses.
You didn't even hear Daniel enter the house and go upstairs, and then suddenly the door opened and Lewis turned towards the door above you. You saw each other and you screamed, Daniel quickly closed the door. "Damn my eyes!" you heard Daniel yelling from outside the door. "Daniel, we are not naked, you can come in." Daniel spoke nervously, "I won't come if you won't stay away from each other" you rolled your eyes and got out of bed and opened the door Daniel was rubbing his eyes as if his eyes were on fire.
You grabbed his arm and pulled him into the room."Oh don't exaggerate daniel you are a big man" Lewis was watching you two silently from the bed Daniel grimaced "This has nothing to do with me being a big guy, I don't want to see my little sister making out with my coworker" Lewis laughed from the corner "we're not technically on the same team" Daniel turned to him this time "we're technically colleagues though"
You took a seat next to you "It's like you don't know we're having sex, even if you don't see it, Daniel" Daniel quickly turned to you "Don't ever say sex again, I don't even want to hear it, I almost saw it" you laughed "Daniel, we were dressed and just kissing." You got up and sat next to Lewis on the bed Daniel snapped his fingers and pointed at Lewis "keep your hands to yourself man I'm still in the room" Lewis laughed and threw his hands in the air as if to say I'm not guilty, and you grabbed one of his arms and threw it over your own shoulder.
"Daniel, I think you were going to take the bike from me, right? It's downstairs in the locker next to the entrance." Daniel squinted his eyes at lewis and then you, you waved Daniel to leave "No making out until I leave the house" this time he waved his index finger between you two. "Daniel downstairs, please" you said. Daniel walked slowly towards the door you got up from the bed and pushed him out of his chest and closed the door. As you turned around and walked to the bed the door opened behind you  Daniel yelled "don't fuck my sister" and closed the door again.
You laughed, sat next to Lewis and tried to kiss him "I have to respect your brother" he said while pulling back you tilted your head and looked as if to say are you serious? Lewis laughed and put his hand around your neck "I'm kidding I don't care" you let him kiss you.
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lizzaneia-elizalde · 3 months
Note
okaaaaaaay i think im now madly obsessed w yan player amor so what if barista reader noticed and slowly became uncomfortable w his uncannily nice advances and overly big tips and all that knowing he has quite the reputation? but i think that the gods also shot an arrow into my heart as i read abt yan player >< <33
Yandere! Male! Player x gn! Barista! Reader part 2
An order of Amor coming right up!
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"He's here again."
One of your coworkers nudged your side, smirking at your deadpan face. "Aw, what's the face for? Aren't you happy that you got such an icon pursuing you?"
You want to gag.
Amor has been going here, everyday. Drinking the same coffee, eating the same cake. It's been like that to the point that you'll prepare the order beforehand.
He always come to the cafe at 7:30 in the morning, walk up to you and with that dumb smile on his handsome face, he would say "Hello darling. One order of caramel machiatto and a slice of red velvet please." And you would hand the order immediately just to minimize interaction.
But he would stay at the counter just to smile creepily at you.
It doesn't help that your coworker would gush about how lucky you are, how amazing it is to have THE Amor fawning over you.
But guess what, you didn't care. You wanted out.
And you made sure Amor knew about it.
You ignored him, always adamantly returning his ever so generous tips, and shooting him down whenever you had the chances.
On the other hand, Amor is getting quite... Pissed.
Why aren't you falling for him?
He made sure to wish for every person to fall for him in his next life, which is this current life. So why aren't you fawning over him? Even the god of love doesn't have an answer at all.
It was infuriating.
You were so close. So painfully near to his grasp but so far. You were like an unreachable dream to someone so selfish as him. Like a punishment for being so over himself.
But, he's the Amor. He gets what he wants.
So, begging to his family, throwing a quite embarrassing tantrum, he managed to...
"MOM! DAD!" You yelled at your parents as they stopped arguing. The dark circles below their eyes were a signal that something's wrong. Terribly wrong.
They looked at each other before your mother gave a pointed look at your dad.
"Do not tell them." Your mother seethed, but your dad groaned.
"They deserve to know!"
"But they don't live here anymore! They don't have anything to do with our debts!"
Debts? Your parents had debts?
You looked at them incredulously, not believing at what they're talking about right now. Your parents were pious, they never, ever had debts and always were good people. So what's with debts? And why haven't they paid it yet?
"Dad, mom, debts? You guys made sure to pay them always if you did get debts or favors or whatever." You raised your hands in disbelief. You had a bad feeling about this.
"It's just that, we somehow got debted to the Kim's." Your dad said, worried.
"Kim's?" You asked. "There's too many Kim's! Which?!"
Your gut feeling made you remember a certain playboy.
"You know, that Kpop idol Taejoon Kim. With his wife the miss Universe Alyssa Kim? Their son... Amor Kim."
Your eyes widened, a feeling of dread creeping up your back and making you shiver from the sudden chill. No way, right?
"How did you even get debted to them?" Your voice carried a humorless laugh that seeped out a bit of fear. Your parents looked at each other before your mom sighed.
"I work in that fancy hotel, right?" Your mother grimaced. "I apparently broke their pipeline? I swear I was only in the pipe system to investigate the rat problem but I bumped into a faulty pipe and now the whole hotel is flooded... That hotel was owned by Mrs. Kim..."
Your father fidgeted on the spot also, looking away.
"The company I work at, had this pipe system too, and as their main cleaning manager I manage the waterline. I thought I could fix the problem by myself... Ended up flooding the building also... Owned by Mr. Kim."
You shivered from the weird coincidence. Both pipelines? Really? How did that even happen?
"So? Both of you are going to pay for it?" You asked with a slight grit on your voice and they nodded.
They looked so defeated, it broke your heart into tiny smithereens. The anger flared up for Amor once more.
"Those rich people..." You seethed.
"It was our fault dear." Your mother cooed, hugging your frame. "I... I wasn't careful enough."
"Me too. I should have called for an expert." Your father frowned sadly.
You never felt so helpless in your entire life. If only there was a way to help them.
"How can I help..?"
This time, your parents froze and they coughed loudly, looking away.
Another bout of the twisted gut, you looked at them with worry in your eyes. "What is it?"
"I-it's nothing, dear." Your mother whispered, avoiding eye contact. "We will find a solution ourself."
"No! If I can help then I will!" You stepped up to them. Your body moving in order to meet their evasive eyes. "Please! Look at me! What is it?"
"Ah..." Your father looked at your mother before whispering something to your ear.
"No."
Goosebumps riddled your body as you froze from the sudden shock going through your form. "Marriage?! What is this?! The 17th century?!"
Your parents looked at each other before shrugging. "It's really weird, dear. There's so many other chaebols out there who's more rich than us. But why you? We're not rich at all."
The whole situation was so fishy.
And a flash of that lovesick look Amor slips through sometimes came up on your mind.
You're too smart for your own good.
You knew it was due to him.
You had enough.
You can't just let your parents suffer like this.
So, with a heavy heart and a defeated look, you held their hands and hugged them both. "Thank you for taking care of me for my whole life, mom and dad."
A loving whisper, and a touch affectionate, your parents knew of your plan. And they paled.
"No! Dear, this is not your burden to carry!" Your father shakily let out. "You... You have so much to live for!"
"Look at the bright side, dad! I will be... Uh, rich! We will be!" You reasoned, trying, scouring for the bright side to this situation. "It's okay dad. Rather than being homeless trying to find money to pay for such a huge debt. I would take this road for the both of you."
Your mother started to weep, and you inwardly died.
You can't believe Amor would stoop this low.
You don't even know him that well.
And as you, in an elaborate and extravagant wedding garment, reach your hand towards the extended ones of Amor, with that triumphant and obsessive look that you abhor, you cursed him inwardly.
You never stood a chance.
The gods are on his side after all.
You are now his, fully.
Now it's up to you if you want to make his life miserable, or melt into his arms.
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xoxoavenger · 5 months
Text
Try Me
pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader
summary: Y/N has powers that can heal any illness or wound through her cooking, which comes in handy when Matt gets hurt.
word count: 2279
warnings: small mention of wounds but not graphic
part 2
12 Days of Christmas masterlist main masterlist
"Matt, oh my God." Y/N said as she walked into the office to see Matt all bruised, a cut above his eye. "What happened?" She asked, walking closer to see it closer. He looked away, but she was already sitting on his desk, moving his glasses away.
"I, uh, I fell down the stairs." He told her, but she just shook her head and clucked her tongue. She reached into her bag to grab the pastry she packed that day. She always packed one everyday just in case, but she didn't think she would have to use it this early.
"Did you eat breakfast?" She asked, trying to keep herself from running a hand through his hair. Because of course she had to fall for him, her coworker.
"No, but I-"
"Come on, Matt." She smiled as she got off the desk, pulling her skirt down. "I can practically hear your stomach growling from here." With that she walked to her own front desk, Karen's old one. Y/N had taken over the blonde's position of secretary, and she was good at it.
"Good morning you beautiful people!" Foggy practically yelled as he walked through the door. The man had way too much energy for eight thirty in the morning. "Y/N, here's your coffee." He grabbed a cup out of the cup holder and placed it on her desk before winking at her.
"And here's your breakfast." She handed him a pastry, because she always gave one to him even though she knew it wouldn't do anything.
The truth was, Y/N had a power. It wasn't one she flaunted, hell, she hardly ever used it, but she practiced it just incase. She could heal people with her food; how, she wasn't sure, and she had only found it out ten years prior, when she made food for her friend. A couple minutes later, the small cat scratch on her friend's cheek was miraculously gone. After that, she continued to test her theory until there was no doubt in her mind that she had powers.
Just like the Avengers.
But she didn't want fame. She didn't want to be in an elite team of super heroes. She wanted the life she had, working with Foggy and Matt and Karen when she was in the office. It was a fine life.
Plus, she was totally in love with Matt Murdock.
"You're telling me I'm not the only one you make breakfast for?" Matt asked, causing Y/N to smile. She looked over to see Matt eating, which made her happy. She was glad he would be healing, and her heart was hurting slightly at the fact that Matt had to live all alone. Obviously he could take care of himself, but she wanted to be able to take care of him, to heal him when he did things like fall down the stairs.
"Fine, from now on, I'll make breakfast for both of you." She smiled as she looked between the two boys.
"That isn't fair! I bring you coffee, which means Matt has to bring you something too. You cannot just give your baking talents out like that!" Foggy complained, making Y/N roll her eyes.
"I'm sure I'll think of something. Until I do, just keep track." Matt smiled at her before going to his work, grabbing his glasses and putting them back on. Y/N stared for a few seconds before going to work filing and sorting.
~
"Matt," Y/N said in surprise when she walked in the next day. It wasn't surprise of his presence, he had often been in the office first now. Foggy told Y/N that he used to never come in, that Nelson and Murdock had once been done for because Matt never showed up, but he was obviously over it now. No, she was gasping because she was so in shock at his state. He didn't look any better from her pastry - in fact, he almost looked like he'd fallen again.
"Y/N," Matt smiled, but she could tell it was strained.
"Matthew, what did you do this time?" She sat on his desk once more, giving him the pastry. She took his glasses off before he could protest, and looked at his wounds.
"What do you mean?" He chuckled, shying slightly away from her. "I fell down the stairs."
"Twice?" She wiped her finger over some of the dried blood off his face.
"No, I fell the night before yesterday." He told her, wincing as she touched a fresh cut.
"No," She fought back, frowning. "That's fresh blood." She wanted to say that she knew it was new because the pastry should have accelerated his healing enough that he shouldn't be bruising this bad.
"Must've reopened a cut." Matt shrugged, but he made no move to move her hand. She rubbed her fingers over his bruises, hoping the pastry she brought today was enough to help him.
"I'm fine, Y/N. Don't worry about me." He waved her off and she stood, not wanting to annoy him.
"Have you figured out a way to repay me for the pastries every morning?" She asked, trying to find a topic he'd be comfortable talking about.
"Not yet. But, I promise I will." He looked in her general direction, eyes unfocused. She stared, not out of confusion or disgust, but out of wonder. Why would he hide his eyes? They expressed so much emotion, and they were beautiful. He must have sensed her staring, because he quickly felt around for glasses before putting them back on.
"Well, keep me updated." She said as she went to her desk.
"Morning!" Foggy was opening the door a couple seconds later, which put Y/N back in a good mood.
"Good morning, you beautiful person!" She said, referring to his greeting the day before.
"The usual, my fair lady." He said in a strange accent, and she tipped her imaginary hat to him.
"Thank you, kind sir. Whatever would I do without you?" She smiled as he went to his own desk.
"So, Matt figure out what to pay you with?" Foggy asked, bringing out his computer out of his bag.
"Not yet." Y/N shook her head, looking through the company emails.
"I know what he could pay you with." Foggy looked up and smirked at Matt, who began to talk at the same time of Y/N.
"What?"
"Shut it, Fog." Matt had temporarily paused his work, but he got back to it when the conversation dropped. Y/N looked between the two, but Foggy only smirked at her before going to do his own thing.
"Did you forget my pastry?" He asked, making her eyes widen. She had forgotten, and she felt slightly guilty. She reached into her bag to get Foggy's pastry, standing and bringing it to his desk.
"So sorry, sir." She joked, bowing and going back to her work. She couldn't help but sneak glances at Matt all day however, watching his bruise start to fade.
She smiled to herself when she left and his cut was almost fully healed.
~
She still made Matt pastries every morning, however he hadn't come in with any injuries that she could see.
Until he didn't come in a week later.
The door wasn't open, and even after she tried knocking she didn't hear any movement. So she tried calling him.
No answer.
"Hey Matt, I'm at the office and apparently you're not here, because you didn't answer the door, so if you could just let me know if this is a holiday or something?" She chuckled at the end, but her heart was beginning to pound. She called Foggy next.
"The time hasn't magically warped forward, has it?" He joked as he answered the phone.
"Where's Matt?" She felt bad but she needed to get down to business.
"He's not there?" Foggy began to get worried now as well.
"No, and he's not answering his phone." She told Foggy quickly. "Ya know what, I'm just going to check on him." She said, walking back out of the hallway and going down the stairs.
"Don't worry about it! I'm almost there anyway." He rushed out, but Y/N shook her head.
"I'm coming too." She wanted to help if she could, wanted to be there incase he happened to be injured. Foggy was quiet for a moment.
"Fine. I'll meet you there. He may be sick."
"He's not sick." She said. He had been eating her pastries every day, and she knew that was all someone needed of her cooking and baking to keep away from the common cold or viruses.
"He could be." Foggy pointed out, but Y/N shook her head as she walked down the street. Matt didn't live super far away, so it didn't take long for her to make it. Luckily, Foggy was also pretty close.
"I'll be there soon. Wait outside - the doorman is a stickler. He won't let you in alone." He told her, so Y/N confirmed and hung up. Foggy was there a minute later, and the two walked into the building together, hearts racing.
"He does this all the time." Foggy assured her, but she could tell he was freaking out, even if it was slightly less than her. "He probably just overslept." His voice seemed to give away more than his actual words.
"Right." She nodded as they began to climb the stairs. They got to Matt's floor and walked quickly to his apartment, Y/N banging on the door as soon as she could.
"Matt?" Foggy called out from her side, both of them going quiet to try and listen to what was going on.
"Matt, are you okay?" Y/N yelled, heart getting lodged in her throat as she couldn't hear anything.
"That's it," Foggy reached into his pocket to grab his keys, picking through them to find a key that Y/N assumed was Matt's. She stood back to let him open the door, and the two walked in, their worries for their friend outweighing the fact that they had just actually broken into Matt's apartment.
"Matt? Matt are you alright?" Y/N yelled, following Foggy in. She heard a groan from the living room and rushed with Foggy through the small hallway to see Matt on the couch, only in his underwear. She was about to look away when she noticed that he was covered in cuts and bruises, the blood wet around the cuts but drying down his body. There were at least four thick, deep cuts and dark, almost black bruises.
"Shit," Foggy muttered. He thought that Matt would be bruised from his after work activities, but he was hoping it wasn't this bad. He didn't want Y/N to come with him, but he couldn't exactly tell her no.
"Oh my God," Y/N made her way to his side, assessing the damage.
"I was hoping you'd find me." He muttered as he opened his eyes slightly. "I need your help." He grabbed her hand, shifting with a groan.
"With what? I can't stitch you up! I don't know the first thing about medical aid." She muttered, instinctively reaching up to push his hair out of his face.
"Maybe not," Matt chuckled but then ended up coughing, causing Y/N and Foggy to wince. "But you do know a thing or two about healing." Y/N froze, her heart stuttering. How did he know?
"What?" She whispered, but Matt squeezed her hand. "How did this happen? This is worse than falling down the stairs." She tried to change the subject, but Matt moved in pain again.
"I notice things." He said, as if that would explain everything. Before Y/N could answer, he was speaking again. "Could you make something while Foggy helps me clean up?" All she could do was nod and look in her bag, taking the two pastries she always brought for the boys out.
"If you can get these down, it'll help, but I'll make some soup." She smiled at him and got up, squeezing his hand before letting it go.
"What is going on?" Foggy whispered to Matt, making him chuckle slightly.
"Let's just say Y/N's soup is special." Matt closes his eyes and tries to ignore the pain while Y/N works. Foggy looks between them quickly.
"What the fuck does that mean?" He cries, making Y/N chuckle.
"It's alright, Foggy." Matt has a tired smile, one that worries his friend.
"You need medical attention." Foggy tries to convince Matt, who just shakes his head.
"Try to eat the pastries!" Y/N calls from the kitchen.
"What the fuck are pastries gonna do?" Foggy screams, wanting to rip out his own hair.
"Foggy, how many times have you gotten sick in the past six months?" Matt asks softly.
"That has absolutely nothing to do with you dying on the couch." Foggy gets up to grab a cloth to wipe at the blood on his face.
"I am not dying." Matt mutters with the roll of his eyes. Foggy returns and gets him to shut up by wiping at his mouth.
"The soup just has to heat up." Y/N comes out of the kitchen and kneels next to Matt. "Foggy, can you run to the store to grab some bandages?" She asks, taking the cloth.
"When I get back, you guys are telling me what I'm missing." He says very seriously before he walks out the door.
"How did you figure it out?" Y/N whispers, wiping his blood away with one hand and his hair out of his face with the other. "How did this happen?" She changes her question while shaking her head.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He muttered, causing Y/N to scoff.
"The food I make can heal people. Try me." She smiles.
"Well, you know Daredevil?" 
//
tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @one-sweet-gubler @thefandomplace @punzoquack @mcueveryday @icequeen1371
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echobx · 1 month
Text
not my type 2 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader
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summary: Rafe comes to visit you unexpectedly and things don't quite go like you want them to
warnings: swearing, smut (p in v (unprotected), reverse cowgirl, missionary (it just happened, I can't explain it), fingering (semi-public), dirty talk, edging)
word count: 3.7k
author's note: part 2 because I couldn't stop thinking about it. I hope you like it. (also, if any of you have any clue about real estate, you are allowed to yell at me bc all my knowledge comes from watching those shows on Netflix...)
part 1
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“It's gonna have to work somehow,” you sigh and rub your hand over your forehead. You are exhausted, having been up all night to find a solution to the problem your team is facing.  Your head perks up at a knock on the door. “Excuse me, miss, the Cameron account is waiting in your office. He says he has an appointment, although I couldn't find it in your calendar.”  “He doesn't have a fucking appointment,” you yell in frustration. “I'm sorry,” you apologize immediately, close to tears but not about to start crying in front of your coworkers. “It's not your fault. I'll just go and send him away.”
“Why are you here?” you ask while entering your office, and he turns around to smile at you.  “I'm guessing you're not happy to see me?”  “It's really bad timing. You could've called,” you sigh exasperatedly while looking through your emails.  “You didn't leave a number,” he reminds you, and you slowly pick up your head to look at him.  “You have the office number,” you force a smile.  “Yeah, I'm not gonna call your receptionist to ask if you got time to get drunk or need a good fuck,” he says while walking around your desk and standing next to you.  “Would be inappropriate, yes,” you look up at him, but you freeze as you see your dad step inside. 
“Y/n, you didn't tell me Mr. Cameron was coming in. I would've welcomed you earlier, Sir,” he introduces himself and Rafe shakes his hand.  “It's really no issue, Mr. y/l/n. I'm in really good hands with your daughter,” Rafe charms him.  “She's the best,” your dad praises you, and you nod along, too tired to actually care. “Now, let me show you around,” he leads him out of your office and Rafe quickly turns his head to give you a slightly panicked look. You mouth a “have fun” at him, and then he's gone, and you are allowed to get back to work. 
“Listen, if we switch the staging company-”  “That's not gonna help with the interest rate, James,” you sigh, pacing the room.  “Was just a suggestion,” he mutters.  “I'm calling it. This isn't going anywhere. Let's go home and come back tomorrow morning with some new ideas on how to fix this shit,” you suggest, and the whole team lets out a sigh of relief.  “And here we have- Honey, what are you doing?” your dad interrupts you and your colleagues while packing up.  “Going home. We've been here for over 24 hours,” you explain.  “Can we talk in my office?” he asks, and you follow diligently, leaving Rafe and the others alone in the conference room while you go talk to him. 
“It's not a good look to leave early, especially in front of a partner,” he admonishes your choices.  “I honestly don't care what Mr. Cameron thinks, dad. It's my team, my decision.”  “Is the issue at least fixed?”  “No, and it won't get better if I don't give them any rest. I haven’t slept or showered since in two days, dad,” you complain, and he shakes his head but caves nevertheless.  “Fine. But you'll have to come to dinner tonight. This Cameron guy is a big part of our modern strategy, we can't let him slip away.”  “Okay,” you nod and walk back out of the office and towards the conference room to tell your team it was okay to leave. 
“Rough day?” Rafe asks while following you back to your office.  “Rough week. Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” you huff but inadvertently stop and turn to look up at him. “Look, all I wanna do is go home take a nice bath, sleep for two hours and then meet both you and my parents for dinner because apparently I don't have any fucking choice. So, just go back to your hotel or do some sightseeing, I don't care, but just go.” “Can I ask something before I leave?” A smile tugging on his lip.  “You just did.”  “When was the last time you actually had sex?”  You turn to make sure there was no one around who could've heard him before pulling him with you into your office.  “You can't just ask shit like that. Especially here,” you hit him against the chest, but he takes your wrist and keeps your hand flat to his body.  “See, I tried hooking up with someone else, multiple someones, but that just didn't hit the same way. It's purely a practical issue, all right.” God, how you hate his macho behavior as if you'd ever fall for it, or him.  “I'm still not answering that preposterous question.”  “So, you didn't? Was there no one or were they just shit?” he asks, a little too cocky for your taste.  “I'm going home now,” you tell him again and start putting your laptop in your bag.  “I didn't book a hotel room. Didn't think I'd need one, to be honest,” he admits and you laugh.  “What makes you think that?”  But he doesn't reply and just looks at you with his blue eyes, eyes that haunt your dreams and sexual fantasies.  “You think ‘cause we hooked up once, you'll get some kinda claim over me? Like, I'm supposed to throw myself at you the moment you step onto the stage? Well, you guessed wrong, darling,” you sneer and go to walk out of the office when he grabs your wrist.  “You didn't answer my question.”  “Fuck, okay, fine. It's shit. It's not- I'm not gonna fucking praise you, asshole,” you scoff and start walking again. “Are you coming or not?” 
“I'm still gonna take my bath,” you remind him as his hands find your face to hold onto it while he's kissing you and stumbling backwards out of the elevator, right into your flat.  “Fuck, you can have as many baths as you want. Just lemme fuck you,” he begs after pulling away.  “Jesus, you're needy,” you laugh as he rips your tight dress down, making your tits spill out. “You know that thing has a zipper right?” you ask as he starts kneading and kissing your tits like there's no tomorrow. You're getting wetter by the second, and he doesn't seem to want to stop and actually help you out of the dress.  “Rafe, please, just a minute,” you beg and he holds up to look at you.  “Whaddya need, sugar?” His light southern drawl is making you even needier than you care to admit.  “Can you open the zipper, so I can take this shit thing off?”  “Sure, can do, sweetie,” he puts too much weight into the pet name for it to not be a dig at your dad.  “Don't call me that again, please. Anything but that,” you sigh as he helps you out. 
“You know your dad's an asshole, right?”  “Aren't they all?” you huff walking over to the window front that looks out onto Central Park and leaning your head against the glass. “I grew up with him. Of course, I know he's an ass. You think I turned out this sweet ‘cause he was nice?”  “What would he actually say if he knew?” Rafe steps closer to you, opening the knot in your hair and kissing your shoulder.  “Congratulate me or disown me. Either way, it just proves his suspicions right,” you shake your head.  “Why? He thinkin’ you slept your way to the top or what?”  “Oh no, that's all nepotism. No, he thinks I slept with my professors because he can't believe that I made valedictorian and was named party queen of Harvard at the same time.”  “Did you?”  “Once, before he was my Professor, and it didn't have any effect on my grade,” you admit but have to laugh at how absurd it sounds.  “You feeling better now?” he asks while rubbing your arms with his huge hands. “A bit. I'm still not your friend or anything,” you remind him and he laughs.  “Business partners and fuck buddies, I'm okay with that.”  “Good. Grab that chair,” you tell him and point at a lounge chair that stands a bit off to your right. 
As soon as the chair is in place you push him down on it, straddling him in it and kissing him relentlessly. His hands are all over you, unclasping your bra in the back and making your tits jiggle as they drop.  “Jesus fucking Christ, why are you so hot,” Rafe rasps, running his hands over the fat on your belly before pressing his face into your chest to motorboat you as best as he could.  His childlike wonder, when it comes to you, makes you somewhat happy about the fact that he had dropped by unexpectedly.  “Rafe?”  “Uh-huh,” he moans against your skin.  “I, uh… I don't have any condoms here,” you admit, and he rips his head up.  “You what? Why? Why would you say that to me right now? I'm already hard for fuck's sake,” he complains loudly.  “I'm sorry that I'm inconveniencing you there, you ass,” you snap and get up, picking up your bra and dress and leaving for the bathroom.  “Fuck, sugar, just come back,” he pleads, but you don't even think about it and instead strip yourself completely to take a shower. 
“Okay, listen, I can just go down find a store, buy some and get back here. Easy,” Rafe suggests, and you roll your eyes without looking at him.  “Have you considered that I might not give a shit, jerk?”  “Oh yeah? What's your brilliant idea, miss Harvard,” he scoffs.  “How often do you get tested?” you ask and turn your head far enough to be able to see him stand behind you, nothing but tight boxers left on his body.  “Every other month,” he shrugs.  “When was the last time?”  “Week ago.”  “And?”  “Clean. I'm not risking it, with, like, quick hookups and shit.”  “Me neither. But I've never wanted to fuck a guy more than once either,” you say and turn back to the water that's steaming up the tiled room.  “You want me to fuck you raw?” he asks, sounding as if you had just offered him the job of his life.  “Jesus, don't get yourself so hyped already. I'm just saying it's a potential possibility that needs considering.”  “What about-”  “I've had an IUD since I turned 18 and it's never once failed me. I think it's gonna be fine,” you turn around to face him fully; eyes trailing down to the massive bulge in his boxers.  “So, I'm guessing you've never been fucked while looking down onto Central Park?” you ask with a wide smile, and he shakes his head. 
Rafe is back in the chair when you let yourself down on him, feeling every ridge and vein of his huge cock and you both groan at the feeling.  His hand is trailing over your back, drawing lines over it while you let yourself breathe to adjust to him just enough so it doesn't hurt too much.  You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. “If you wanna tap out, just pinch me. I'm not gonna listen to anything else, I just wanna make that clear.” “Noted,” he grins, and you lean forward in your seat and plant your feet in the ground before starting to bounce on his dick.  “Shit, I missed looking at this ass,” he grunts, and you start bouncing a bit harsher, forcing yourself down on him while moaning loudly. 
“Talk to me,” you beg as you keep fucking yourself with his cock.  “You're a real slut, fucking your professor? I bet it turns you on to know how weak you make them. To know they have no control. Making them your little bitch,” his words are frequently interrupted by heavy pants and your excessive moaning, but he continues anyway. “Not with me. You're mine now. I don't give a shit who you were before. All you are now is my little whore, who lets me fuck her whenever I want. Right?” “Yes, daddy,” you cry out and do your best to keep bouncing on him, your hand finding your clit and toying with it.  “You'll let me fill you up with my cum, like the pretty little cumslut that you are. Isn't that right?” he asks and thrusts up into you, meeting the movement of your hips and making you scream as he defiles your cunt.  “Speak up, sugar,” he demands, pulling on your hair and bending you back.  “Gonna make a mess for you, daddy. Just for you.” The tears are running down your cheeks when your orgasm hits you, and he follows instantly, fucking his seed even deeper into you before letting go of your hair and allowing you to get up. 
“Can you walk?” he asks, and you nod while dragging yourself over to your bed and falling face-first into the fresh linen.  “I thought I was imagining it, that my memory was skewed,” you mumble into the fabric. “But my memory doesn't come even close to this.”  “Could say the same,” he praises you, and you can't help but blush.  “Have you ever tried vanilla sex?” you ask out of pure curiosity, and he shakes his head while walking over.  “Not a big fan of the lovey-dovey bullshit.”  “Same. That's why I prefer reverse cowgirl, less personal, but I'm still in control for the most part,” you say after turning around to lie on your back.  “We, uhm, could just do it. Like a bucket list thing. Just so we know how it is,” he suggests and you laugh. “Yeah sure.”  “I'm serious. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? We fall in love? As if,” he huffs.  “I'll sue you if you do,” you tell him before pulling him into you and somehow crawling backwards onto the bed. He kisses you, and you feel like you're melting into him, into his touch, his being; all of him. 
His swollen tip is nudging at your clit, and you grasp down and put him to your aching hole, pushing him into you just slightly and your eyes already roll back at the feeling. Your senses feel heightened and dull at the same time, as if you are floating while on fire.  “Look at me,” Rafe demands, holding onto your neck and squeezing just enough to make you whimper. You stare into his eyes, the blue is gone, and he starts to smile as he slowly pushes into you. Your eyes widen at the pleasantly painful stretch he's giving your pussy.  And his lips find yours, muffling the moans that threaten to slip out as he pounds into you. But he lets off, kissing your neck, sucking on it and pulling your leg up to get a better angle. 
“I'm gonna cum,” you cry pathetically and he laughs.  “No, you're not. You're mine, baby, don't forget that.”  “Please, Rafe.” You are begging once again, and his attack on your tired cunt is just getting worse with every passing minute. You had never begged for an orgasm before. Never had wanted to. But Rafe's way of fucking you is inherently different to anything you had ever felt before.  “Not gonna happen,” he grins down at you, and you whine, but he keeps you pinned down right where he wants you to be. Your hands are clawing at his back, trying to hold onto him for dear life, to not lose yourself entirely. 
“Tell me,” he slows, and it's pure torture, slowly dragging his big cock half out of you before slamming back in, giving voice to the most obscene squelching sound you'd ever heard your pussy make.  “I'm still not your type, right?” he smirks, and you throw your head to the side just for him to yank it back. “Answer, or you're not gonna cum on this dick ever again.”  “No. Still no,” you pant, and he kisses you again, pulling your hand down and letting you touch yourself.  His lips are moving towards your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Make daddy proud and soak his big cock, sugar,” he growls and your back arches up. Legs trembling as the tight band in your core snaps. The orgasm rips through you without any mercy, and you scream his name, actually trying to make him proud and feel worthy of the pleasure his cock’s giving you.  “Good girl,” he praises, brushing over your cheek. You're completely dazed, only paying half as much attention to him as you wanted to while watching his face contort and hips stutter with sloppy thrusts before he's releasing his hot seed into you. 
“In love with me yet?” you joke while lying next to him, and he runs his hands over his short hair.  “Nope,” he shakes his head and purses his lips.  “Good. And if you praise me ever again, I'm gonna kick your ass. Understood?” you sneer while getting up and walking to the bathroom.  “You liked it,” he calls after you with a light laugh swinging in his voice. You know he’s right, but you don't wanna admit it. You don't want to admit to the vulnerability of it all, after having spent years to build yourself up to the person you are now. No longer wasting any more time on what people think of you or giving them any time of day to hurt you. This includes not letting them close to prevent it from ever getting to such a point ever again.  “Just don't fucking say it again,” you tell him as you hear him enter the shower behind you.  “Understood.” 
You shower in silence, each of you on one end of the long shower but the glooming feeling that something has changed won't leave you. Not as you leave the shower to dry off, or as you lay down and try to relax for just a bit before you have to get ready. Not while doing your hair and makeup. Not while putting on your dress or when you call your driver.  And he's not saying a single thing. Rafe stays quiet throughout all of it, which makes you a little pissed at him, but you can't let it show. 
You arrive ahead of time, your parents not yet there when the hostess shows you to your table, and you order an extra dry martini.  The stark difference in your behavior towards each other outside and inside the bedroom is starting to annoy you. You miss how easy-going he had been that first day you met him. How charming and funny and most of all flirtatious he had acted.  “Tomorrow morning, you're gonna fly home and then I only wanna see you when there's something with the business,” you tell him, trying to get the upper hand in a situation that you had never intended to be in.  “Understood,” he mutters as you both stand up to greet your parents, who are walking over. 
The dinner is dry, and you can't wait to finally get home and just sleep. Your mom keeps making indecent jokes and comments towards Rafe, but he just laughs or smirks. And when he's not eating, he has one hand on his whiskey and the other on your thigh, slowly creeping up and making it harder for you to concentrate on what your father is telling you about.  “It's a difficult task, but we'll manage,” you say to your dad before jumping up. “Excuse me for a moment.”  You make a beeline to the restroom, trying to cool off and maybe get your act together. But Rafe won't let you. As soon as you step out of the restroom he yanks you with him to a dark corner of the hallway. 
“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, and he pushes you against the wall, caging you in.  “Why are you letting him walk all over you?” Rafe questions, his hand is trailing under the skirt of your dress; fingertips caressing the soft flesh of your thighs.  “He's my boss,” you reply.  “What else?” he taunts, his fingers are pressed against your clit now, making you gulp and bite your lip to not let out a whimper.  “My dad,” you whisper, searching his eyes for approval, but instead he slaps your wet pussy and you squirm.  “You're pathetic, you know that?” he laughs quietly, and you nod, just to please him.  “Rafe, please, just-” you claw at his wrist, but he grabs your cunt even harsher.  “You don't get to pick and choose whenever you like, sugar. You don't want me to be nice, so I'm not. But then all of a sudden, you don't want me to be mean either. Now which is it? One final answer,” he demands, and you let go of him, your hand falling to your side as you admit defeat.  “Good choice,” he growls, pulls your slip to the side and pushes two fingers into your seeping cunt while his free hand is on your mouth, muffling your quiet moans. 
His long fingers are curled up inside you, fucking you with no mercy or thought that someone might walk by and see. But you don't care because he's making you feel whole, whispering a plethora of disgustingly dirty shit into your ear, and always changing his technique when he feels you get closer to your release.  “Tell me who you belong to, sugar,” he rasps and you whimper silently. “I'm yours, daddy. All yours.”  “Good,” he seems pleased with himself, and you feel a sigh of relief coming as you're growing closer and closer to your orgasm. But right before you can let go, he pulls away. 
“Rafe, no- What are you doing?” You claw at his chest as he steps back and licks his fingers clean of your arousal.  “You don't get to use me and throw me away like a piece of trash. Remember who's got the upper hand here, y/n.” Then he lightly slaps your cheek two times before walking back to the table, leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions. 
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part 3
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Text
Yandere Coworker (part 12)
Thank you @i---believe---in---pink for commissioning this chapter.
(2041 words)
Tw: afab reader, reader is pretty mean to Cyprus, Cyprus becoming angry and yelling at reader
Please vote on the poll down below
Masterlists (+commission info), part 1, part 13
You rubbed your eyes with the back of your hand, Cyprus must have thought you were doing that excessively, as he would grab your wrist and pull it away from your face. He gave you a look from the corner of his eyes before returning his attention to the road.
You slumped in your seat, resting your cheek on the seatbelt. Cyprus's hand would find its way back to your thigh, where he would knead and squeeze them as much as he liked. You simply stared at it, because it would always return no matter how much you slapped it away.
You brought your chin up and looked forward. This farmer's market must be far, all you could see is a long strip of asphalt and grass around the car. The sun was shining bright and the air was silent, he refused to turn the radio on or play some music, because he wanted you to talk to him. Cyprus wanted a conversation, to connect with you better by sharing things about each other. But you're just not interested, you wanted to go home and catch up with sleep. Having Cyprus in your life is such a curse, everything was thrown off balance and he kept bullying you. Plus, he kept your phone away, and you're forced to simmer in reality.
"What's your zodiac sign?" He asked, resting his hand on your thigh.
You shrugged. Claiming not to be interested in it just so he would leave you alone in peace.
"Hm." He flicked his turn signal switch to the right before making a turn. "I'm a Cancer, my birthday's on the third of July. And if you're wondering what to get me, I just want your cute little ass on my face." Cyprus sported a playful smirk on his handsome face.
You told him you hope he gets cancer on his birthday. Which made him roll his eyes and click his tongue.
"Someone's cranky." It was followed by a laugh from him. "Sleepy?"
You snapped, telling him you didn't want to go on this stupid date this early in the morning. Wishing that you had never met Cyprus because everything was fine before then, but he had to come around and ruin it. He should just shrivel up and die.
There were a few beats of silence before he began speaking again.
"Wow, where the fuck did that come from, princess? That was a lot to take in." He tried to keep the tone lighthearted, but you could hear a twinge of hurt in his voice. "I must have woken you on the wrong side of the bed today, you were never this mean to me." Something in the way he said that suggests Cyprus is trying to get you to tell him the real reason why you're so moody today.
You sealed your lips shut and looked out of the window. You wanted nothing to do with him and he probably got the hint, as he removed his hand from your lap and placed it on the steering wheel.
Your eyes somehow itched way more than usual, so you went on to rub your eyes again with both hands.
"Stop that-"
You snapped at him again, curling yourself into a ball, pressing yourself far away from Cyprus. He opened his mouth to say something but ultimately decided against doing so.
He looked troubled but you didn't care. Unfortunately, you're too upset to give a damn and you don't know why.
The rest of the ride was driven in silence, neither you or him said a word. And eventually, Cyprus has reached his destination, driving further past the tents and stalls to enter an underground parking lot.
"We're here." Cyprus pulled his handbrake up and killed the engine. He took the keys out of the ignition, but made no move to open the door.
Because he was staring at you, who is now refusing to budge. Hiding yourself in your corner with your knees brought to your chest.
He brought a hand up to your head, petting your hair affectionately. "Baby? I said we're here-"
You yelled at him, saying you heard him the first time. All that while harshly shoving his hand away from you.
"What the fuck is up with you today!?" And it seems like that was the last straw for him, Cyprus furrowed his eyebrows and crowded you from his seat, making the only escape route the door, but it was locked and you somehow couldn't open it no matter how much you tugged on the handle or toggled with the lock.
You said you hated him, he has ruined your life. Perhaps you were trying to mimic what his exes did, you don't know how they could withstand the pressure of his menacing presence. Or maybe they liked it, you definitely didn't.
He sternly called you by your name. "Look at me."
You refused, burying your face in your arms.
"Look at me!" He scolded, this time Cyprus seized you by the jaw and forced your face to his. His grip on you was almost bruising, forcing you to pucker your lips as his fingers dug into your cheeks.
He glared straight at you, steely grey eyes darting all over to examine whatever might be causing your sudden and severe hostility. Though his expression softened when he realized what's been behind your intolerance today.
"Ah." He sounded out, "That figures." relieved and annoyed at the same time. Cyprus brought his thumb on your lower eyelid and gently pulled it down. He then pushed your upper eyelid up.
"Pink eye. I told you not to hang around Nancy." Nancy was one of your nosier coworkers, she had just come back from a medical leave and Cyprus was already telling you to avoid her. You didn't listen despite how she would have coughing fits and bad coughing etiquette. In hindsight, maybe you should have heed his words, but you were desperate to regain some agency over yourself. So you rebelled.
He continued checking your eyeball even after he knew what he was looking at.
It felt invasive, so you thrashed in his grip enough for him to loosen it.
He sighed, taking his keys out of his pocket, jabbing it into his ignition and restarting it again. You winced when Cyprus revved up his engine and allowed its roar to bounce off the basement carpark walls.
"I knew you didn't mean any of it; the crap you said to me. But you really need to say what's bugging you next time... not just take it out on me." He brought his handbrake down and shifted gears.
You remained static in your position and stayed quiet.
"I know you wouldn't, though. It's like it'll kill you to open up." Cyprus drove away from his perfect parking spot, pressing on the gas pedal as if he was in a rush.
"It's fine, I totally love playing detective." Snarked Cyprus sarcastically.
You merely rubbed your eye with a finger.
--
"One more drop, princess." He whispered, holding cupping your cheek and using his thumb to pull your lower eyelid down. Once the last droplet of your antibiotics reached your eye, you blinked hard and held onto his wrist.
"That's a good girl," Cyprus whispered as he pecked you on the forehead, before screwing the cap back on the bottle. A few seconds later, you started to feel the relief in your diseased eyeball.
Cyprus had driven you to a nearby pharmacist, where he would buy medicated eye drops for your conjunctivitis. He had insisted that he is the one to administer it because he claimed that you wouldn't know how to do it correctly despite being there when the pharmacist verbally gave you the instructions. It wasn't cheap, but he still footed the bill himself.
You shook your head and blinked rapidly, allowing the medicine to spread evenly. Cyprus brushed any stray hairs away from your face with his fingers, you were too distracted with the sensation you have in your eye to push him away.
"Well?"
You looked at him. He has his arms crossed and is leaning against the side of his car.
"Aren't you going to apologize? You were so fucking mean to me earlier." He looked away momentarily, seemingly trying to hide something on his face before bringing back his focus on you.
You froze and couldn't get anything out, yes, you were unreasonably rude to him. But that may be your only ticket out of this forced relationship... Well, your last resort is to go to the police but you don't think it has come to that yet. It's not... Illegal to be a jerk to Cyprus as long as you check yourself from time to time.
You were brought out of your thoughts by an incoherent grumble from Cyprus, he massaged his brow. "Okay, we don't have to do that now, you're definitely still a little prickly for some reason and I think I know why." He took a deep breath and exhaled as he opened the door to his passenger seat.
You stared blankly at the interior of his car, he gestured for you to go in. "Come on, get in. I'm going to have to fight for another parking spot, and that's going to take a while."
You looked around you, god knows where you are right now and you have no smartphone to navigate your way back home. There isn't a bus stop in sight either. Perhaps you could slowly inch your way to the general direction of your home? Your shoes are intact and pretty comfortable, there has to be a bus stop somewhere.
"You are not walking home, I'll fucking wrangle you into this car if I have to." As if he was reading your mind, Cyprus quickly closed the space between the two of you, so that your face is almost smothered in his broad chest.
You begrudgingly agreed and went into the Passenger's side on your own. He closed the door for you and shook his head while walking towards the driver's seat.
The distance between the pharmacy and the market wasn't that far at all, it was short enough that Cyprus didn't try to initiate any small talk or touch you either. Or maybe he was still freshly wounded by your recalcitrance.
Cyprus only reached out to pull your hand away when you're about to rub your eyes again.
"Here." He picked up his thermos flask in his cup holder and handed it to you. "Drink up, you only had a tiny sip of water today."
You cautiously took it from his hand and opened it to access the crisp, refreshing water with ice cubes bobbing around.
He was right, Cyprus isn't looking for a motherly partner to supplement his life. He is the motherly one who you now realize took care of you very well no matter how much you didn't like his personality.
From cutting your steaks without needing to ask, making your meals, taking you to the clinic, and paying for anything you can think of. Yes, it's irritating that he would drag you to dates that you didn't even want to go on in the first place, but his intentions were for you to experience the world and all its novelty alongside him. He just wanted you to have fun differently and he isn't stingy with his money.
However, that doesn't discount the fact that he's doing all these against your will, touching you despite your numerous "No"s and rejections, forcing you to play along with this romantic fantasy of his in the office and holding your items hostage, so he could keep you in his apartment.
You brought your attention to him again, he's sulking. A stark contrast from his cheery, teasing attitude from this morning.
Somehow, you felt guilty for lashing out at Cyprus earlier. He did make you cry, though. So this could have been payback for it. However, he apologized, albeit sounding patronizing and infantilizing.
But if you apologize, it will only send a message that you're genuinely interested in being with Cyprus. Worsening his chronic disability to heed your rejections.
You thought about your next move.
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