#I want the WHOLE show with these two only

[perlelune]

Lucky | Rafe Cameron

For years, you had a crush on your best friend, one he never returned. You thought he'd be happy to see you move on. You couldn't be more wrong.

Warnings: NON-CON, Kook!Reader, Jealousy, Angst, Pining, Toxicity

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Your lips curl skyward as you scroll through your phone. As you read every message it’s hard to refrain from kicking your feet and giggling as if you were back in middle school. It’s how he makes you feel. Giddy. Wanted. It’s your first time experiencing such feelings and you’ve been perched on a fluffy cloud all afternoon. 

But remembering you aren’t alone, you try your best to keep a straight face. You’re in a bikini bottom and an oversized shirt by the Camerons’ pool. It’s a bright, sunny day, not a cloud in sight in the sky above Tannyhill.

The unforgiving, North Carolina heat has already melted the ice cubes in your drink. If it weren’t for the generous amounts of sunscreen you've applied earlier, you’d already be sunburnt from hours spent outside.

Rafe lifts his sunglasses from the edge of the pool, curiosity dancing in his blue eyes.

“You’ve been glued to your phone all afternoon, princess.”

You suppress your smile. Feigning nonchalance, you flip your phone down for good measure. 

“I have not.”

“Have too,” he counters, in the exact same way he used to utter those words when you argued back and forth as kids.

He hauls himself out of the pool. You’re graced with the sight of Rafe stepping out of the water, droplets glistening over his broad, toned chest, defined abs and thick, bulging arms. He’s been going especially hard at the gym since summer began. It shows. Your best friend now looks like a breathing, walking Abercrombie ad. You wouldn’t be surprised if the brand gave him a call soon. Not that you’d tell him that. No need to blow up Rafe Cameron’s over-inflated ego even more. 

As you watch him run his fingers through his drenched blonde locks, his golden ring glinting under the sunlight, pride flutters through you. Once upon a time, the sight of Rafe Cameron in nothing but his swim trunks would have had your heart racing and your entire body flush with shameful heat at how unbelievably attractive you found your best friend. 

That was before. When you still clung to the crush you harbored for him for years.

You and Rafe have basically known each other your whole lives.

Since kindergarten specifically.

Back then, you were heavily bullied...and Rafe was the worst of them. He would tug your hair, pull your chair out before you could sit so you’d crash on the floor and call you mean names while other children cheered him on. It only stopped when you had a crying fit in front of him one day. The five year old was stumped. He spent the rest of the year apologizing and bringing a variety of gifts to you. You forgot about the mean things he did and said easily, won over by his determination to make you forgive him. A peculiar friendship blossomed from that. The two of you have been inseparable since then. 

Years flew by.

Then one day Rafe came back to school walking and talking differently. He had filled out during summer break. He was broader, taller, his towering frame even allowing him to reach above your locker. All the girls noticed, including you. You started developing a little crush on him. One he never acknowledged.

He had a girl on his arm at every party, often disappearing with them upstairs. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was up to with those girls. For many years, you daydreamed about what it’d be like to be one of those girls. The girl that caught Rafe Cameron’s eye at a party. The one that would have his full, undivided attention. The one he’d flash a flirtatious grin at and undress with his gaze the entire night.

You wanted to be that girl more than you wanted to breathe.

He never treated you that way though. The two of you hung out all the time. You would play video games, smoke weed, drink the expensive Kentucky Bourbon he stole from his dad’s cabinet and talk about everything and nothing. 

He would always joke that you were like a sister to him. And based on the amount of time you spent at the Camerons house, you might as well be a long lost relative.

Getting over Rafe Cameron had been tantamount to an exorcism. Loving him was so embedded into your flesh, tattooed onto your soul. It was all you knew. Rafe, Rafe, Rafe…

He was everything you longed for. Until he wasn’t. 

It happened one year when you attended the Camerons’ new year’s eve party. You entered the living room and caught him making out with a gorgeous brunette on the balcony. As your heart broke, again, realization slipped through the crack. Pining for someone who doesn’t see you, never saw you, will lead you nowhere. Your suffering was of your own making…and you wanted to suffer no longer. Why fantasize about something that will never come? You’d rather look to the future. 

So you chose to move on.

As fireworks set the night sky above Tannyhill aflame, the last embers of your longing for Rafe Cameron flickered out. 

It’s how you wound up giving dating apps a try. Talking to guys in real life is nerve-wracking but online, you find it much easier. While most conversations you had fizzled out quickly… Garrett has been different. He’s never tried to pretend with you and has been nothing but sweet and inquisitive about your hobbies, hopes and dreams. You’ve talked to him for hours on the phone and he’s made you laugh and smile a countless number of times. As for the icing on the cake…He’s been clear about wanting more than a hookup. He even suggested the two of you should meet up in person soon.

“What got you smiling like that anyway?” Rafe says, tossing the towel around his neck.

“Nothing,” you reply with a shrug.

“If it’s nothing, you can show me.”

He tries to swipe your phone but you’re faster. You rise from your chair and pick it up before he can take it.

His eyes narrow.

“I thought we had no secret for each other,” he says, an accusation laced in his tone. He’s never liked you keeping things from him, no matter how small or insignificant.

“We don’t.”

He gives a slow nod. Then he smiles. And you suppose it should have been your warning, that you should have seen it coming. But you don’t see anything coming. His hand shoots out and he shoves you aside. 

He plucks your phone from you like it’s nothing, using his height to keep it out of reach.

“Rafe! Give me my phone back,” you urge.

He makes no effort to abide by your request, glowering at the screen while scrolling.

“Who the hell is Garrett?”

“J-Just a guy I started talking to on this app...” Your voice dwindles as you cower under Rafe's hard gaze.

Disgust scrunches his handsome face.

“I thought you deleted those dating apps. We talked about this.”

You did talk about it. After a dispiriting streak of bad luck on these apps, he wheedled you to delete all of them. Rafe said all the guys on these apps wanted was to use you for a quick, meaningless fuck. That you were too gullible and would just be taken advantage of. He said that you deserved better and the right guy would come along eventually. You found yourself believing him. A lot of time, you ended up ghosted or the guys failed to show up anyways. It made you question what is so repulsive about you that made guys steer clear.

“I wanted to try again.”

“Well Garrett’s a douchebag name. I don’t like him for you.” He snickers. “Look at that. He’s playing you and his game isn’t even good. You’re really falling for this corny shit, princess?”

He starts reading some of the compliments Garrett paid you aloud, drawing a round of guffaws from Kelce and Topper. 

Your cheeks come ablaze.

“Now you’re just being mean,” you lament, using a lapse of distraction to retrieve your phone.

Gulping the tears threatening to spill, you rush back inside. Kelce’s taunting voice echoes behind you.

“Guess that one got past you, huh, Rafe?” 

“Shut your mouth, bro,” Rafe snaps angrily. 

You lean on the counter and gather your breath. The tears subside. You remind yourself that this is just how Rafe can be. Callous. Inconsiderate. 

It’s not who he really is. 

It’s just a bit hard to recall when he has those moments. Those aggressively insensitive moments. 

You open the fridge and grab a cool drink. Your throat is parched and you could use one.

When you pivot, you nearly spill the can.

Rafe’s towering frame impedes your path.

“You scared me, Rafe,” you say, unleashing a tremulous exhale.

He studies you, concern glimmering in his ocean gaze.

“I wasn’t trying to make you cry, I swear.” He shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. “I just meant he sounds like an asshole.”

“You’re an asshole,” you say, bumping into his arm as you sidle past him. 

His brows draw together. He isn’t used to you addressing him that way. With anything other than sweetness dripping from your tongue. 

You can tell he’s reeling at that alone. Getting the tiniest taste of his own medicine…from you of all people.

He approaches you as you swallow a sip of your drink. 

“Ouch. I’m just looking out for you, princess.” His fingers slot beneath your chin. “You know that’s all I ever try to do, right?”

He flashes you a charming smile. That smile you could never resist. It used to be your Achilles’ heel. Despite your changing feelings, Rafe still possesses the uncanny ability to make you forget why you were even mad at him in the first place. Like right now.

Your shoulders sag.

“I know.”

Blue eyes dive into yours. 

“I want to meet him.”

You retreat, your brows knitting. 

“Meet him, why?”

“I want to make sure he’s good enough for you.”

“I can decide that myself.”

He snorts, his focus darting away before returning to you.

“You’ve never known what’s good for you.” You flinch. “I can’t believe you didn’t even tell me you were talking to someone. I tell you everything. Shit, guess I’m an idiot, huh?” His jaw clenches. “...Cause I thought you did too.”

You inch closer to him and wrap your fingers around his forearm. 

“Rafe, I’m sorry, okay.” You gnaw on your bottom lip. “It’s just that…”

“Just that what?”

You pause, mulling over how to best word what you mean to say. 

Your voice comes out a bashful whisper, your eyes clinging to the floor. 

“Every time I’ve told you I liked a guy, it’s never worked out for some reason. It’s probably my fault but…I just didn’t want to jinx it this time.” You nervously swing your gaze back to him. “I figured if I keep it to myself I don’t have to get my hopes up.” You can’t quell the smile that fights its way onto your lips. “Garrett and I are just seeing where it goes right now. So…things are good.”

“Oh, it’s Garrett and I, now?” he sneers.

“Rafe, don’t be like this,” you beseech, squeezing his arm. “You’ll always be my best friend; you know that.” You shift in your spot, your tone pitching with hope as you ask, “Can’t you just be happy for me?”

He stares at you a long time, so long that his eyes on you grow unnerving. After a while, he releases a deep exhale. 

Ignoring your question, he steps back from you.

“I’m gonna go take a shower,” he announces. 

“Rafe?”

You never get a response, his form vanishing down the hallway. A sigh ripples through your lips as you lean against the counter. Why is he being so difficult about this? It’s not like you’re not seeing him with a new girl every other week. You never batted an eyelash. You even encouraged him to seriously date some of them, the ones who seemed to sincerely like him and reminded you of yourself back in the day. 

You’ve always cheered him on no matter what. So it baffles you that he can’t return the favor. Crushes you even.

For the rest of the week, you don’t hear much from Rafe. He pretty much ignores you and even leaves you on read after you send him a string of pleading messages, which is your cue that you wounded his feelings somehow. You surmise Rafe isn’t used to your attention veering towards someone else. Perhaps he’s miffed at the prospect that getting a boyfriend means you won’t hang out as much anymore, that he’ll have to share you. Your friendship’s been a fixture in both of your lives for so many years. The one unwavering, steadfast foundation nothing could topple. Whatever occured in his life or yours, you’ve always had each other.

Change can be scary. 

But you don’t plan on neglecting the bond you have with Rafe just because you’re dating someone. He’ll always be in your life. He’ll always matter to you. It's what you meant to tell him. What you would tell him if only he bothered replying to your texts or answering your calls. 

Rafe has always teased you for bartending at the Island Club. In his eyes, you’re much too Kook for what he calls a ‘Pogue job’. But you enjoy it. There is a certain comfort in having things you earned through your own hard work and not your parents’ money.

…Though you can’t deny you might not have landed this position if not for your dad’s close friendship with the owner of the private club. You’re also painfully aware you don’t get yelled at or scolded for making mistakes as much as other employees. 

And on days like today, after you end your shift, Rafe has never failed to pick you up in his Jeep. 

He’s never missed a day. Which is why you wear a dumbfounded expression as you note the glaring absence of the familiar black car in front of the country club. It takes you a while to accept and realize the cold, hard truth. Rafe isn’t coming to pick you up today. 

It’s not the end of the world, of course. But it still makes your heart ache that he’d ditch like that without so much as an apology or heads-up. You feel kicked in the gut. 

You try to call him but it goes straight to voicemail. Resigned, you resort to calling for back-up. 

Sarah shows up in her truck with a bright smile. 

“Get in loser, we’re going shopping,” she quips, winking at you.

You climb inside the passenger seat. 

“Thanks for coming, S.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Since the oldest of the Camerons is currently denying your very existence, you figured you might as well call the Kook Princess herself to the rescue. His sister, Sarah Cameron. 

“I brought snacks so I better get a five-star review,” she jests, wiggling her eyebrows. She tosses you a bag of M&M’s that you gleefully tear open. “Doesn’t Rafe usually pick you up after work?”

The sugar melting on your tongue sweetens the bitter taste of abandonment.

“Well, he’s sulking, so…” you mumble around a mouthful of candy.

“Sulking?” Shock colors her tone. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make my brother mad. You’re like the only person he’s not a complete jerk around.”

“Well, he was one last time we talked.”

Sarah arches a puzzled brow.

You sigh and explain, “I started dating someone…Actually, we’re still at the talking stage, but…I didn’t tell him.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Nothing. Forget I said anything,” she dismisses cryptically.

Her peculiar tone peeves you.

“I’m not gonna forget, Sarah.”

Her shoulders rise and fall.

“It’s not my place to say. It’s between you and Rafe.” She throws you a cautious glance, marking a brief pause before inquiring, “You’re not still in love with my brother, are you?”

Heat creeps inside your cheeks.

“I was n-never in love with Rafe,” you stammer. Inwards, you’re screaming. Was it that obvious at the time?

Sarah’s plump lips quirk in a lopsided smile.

“Sure.” 

Gratitude fills you. You’d rather leave this can of worms permanently closed. Lid tightly sealed and all. And the can tossed at the bottom of a lake. It’s embarrassing enough that you mooned over Rafe for as long as you did.

At least you find comfort in the fact that you’re over him now.

“You mind if we stop for ice cream on the way?” Sarah asks, adjusting her rearview mirror.

“No. I could go for one myself. This heat is killing me.”

“Cool.”

For the rest of the week, Rafe continues to dole out the silent treatment. You allow his childish antics to chafe you to a point. Then you elect to not let it bother you anymore. He can throw a tantrum if he wishes. You’ve done nothing wrong and you’re growing weary of being treated like you have. 

For over fifteen years, you’ve been a great friend to Rafe, listening to him rant whenever he needed an ear, making time for him whenever he requested it. The fact he’s being a dick right now is staggering. 

He frankly has no right.

After everything the two of you have been through, you hoped for more from him. While you’re aware he can be a jackass, you thought it was different when it came to you. That you were different. You suppose you were wrong. 

Friday comes around and with it arrives the excitement of the plans you have for the night. Garrett asked you out on a date at a fancy seafood restaurant. It’ll be your first time meeting him in person. You’ve been looking forward to it the entire week.

As you’re putting the final touches to your makeup in front of the vanity mirror, your phone flashes with a request for a facetime call. 

You swipe towards the green icon to accept the call. 

Rafe’s face fills your screen. 

“Hey, princess. I thought we could talk-”

“I’m kind of busy right now. Rain check tomorrow?” 

“Busy doing what?” He squints, seeming to register your attire. A brand new sundress you purchased with your tips from the Island Club. You paired it with wedge heels. You also switched your hairstyle to something more sophisticated for the night. “W-What the hell are you wearing? Where are you even going dressed like that?”

You heave out a deep sigh.

“Good night, Rafe.”

You tap the screen to end the call.

A rush of power floods your insides. You hung up on him. This is your first time doing that, hanging up on Rafe Cameron himself. 

Still, a sliver of guilt lingers alongside your pride. You quell it swiftly. You can’t be at his beck and call your entire life. Tonight’s about you. For once, you’d like to put your needs before Rafe’s.

Garrett comes to your house some time later. He has flowers in his arms. You soak in their scent for a few minutes. No one’s ever given you flowers before. It makes you feel special.

As he opens the door of his truck for you, he whistles in admiration.

“Wow,” he says, his gaze dragging over your frame.

Your skin warms at the attention, the kind you aren’t used to receiving. 

Fiddling with the flowy sleeve of your sundress, you inquire, “Am I what you expected?”

A besotted smile spreads on his lips.

“You’re even more beautiful in person.”

“Thank you.” 

You peer at him. His pictures don’t do him justice.

“You look very handsome. I like your shirt.”

His cheeks redden at your praise. 

You get inside his car. The two of you exchange casual chatter on the way to the restaurant. You’re amazed at how easy talking to him is. You’re a little shy but his clear interest in you helps you slowly climb out of your shell. 

Once you arrive at the restaurant, you’re escorted to your table. The light conversation resumes its flow, the two of you growing even more comfortable with each other. You like how intently he listens to you, even if his intense eye contact makes you wrestle the urge to look away. You nibble your lip as you peruse the menu. Mirth sways in Garett’s brown orbs when your stomach growls. You mumble an apology under your breath and he beams at you. You’ve been so anxious about the date for the whole day, you’ve forgotten to eat. 

A familiar voice erupts from behind you. 

“Well, look who it is. What a coincidence.”

You whirl, a gasp bursting from your throat.

“Rafe? What are you doing here?”

He stands besides you and Garrett’s table, his arm slung around a gorgeous redhead’s shoulders. It occurs to you haven’t seen him with that one before. Though you reckon Rafe rarely does repeat encounters. 

What shocks you more however is his very presence here. Of all places, Rafe and the girl he’s with could have been tonight, it has to be the exact same location of your first date with Garrett. 

What are the odds? 

However, you recall that with the assistance of the friend-finding app both you and Rafe have on your phones in case of emergencies, figuring out your whereabouts would be about the easiest thing.

Would Rafe go that far just because you wouldn’t yield to his whims one time? Would he truly be that selfish?

The shit-eating grin unfurling on his face answers all your questions.

“Well, I heard this was a good spot so I thought…” Rafe’s brows furrow as he waves his hand before the girl’s face, appearing to struggle remembering her name. 

“Jessica,” she finishes for him, disappointment decorating her pretty features.

He beams at her.

“Right. I thought that Jessica and I could check it out.”

He plops down next to you, forcing you to make space for him on the upholstered booth seat. Meanwhile his date sits next to Garrett. 

“You mind, princess?”

Awkwardness fills the air. The heavy tension sits on your throat as Rafe makes himself more comfortable, going as far as spreading his legs.

You scold him with your gaze, all but spelling out ‘Yes, I do mind indeed’.

You clear your throat and shift your stance, resenting how every tiny motion has your thigh grazing against his.

“Actually I…We’re kind of on a date, Rafe.”

He places his arm on the wooden edge above your head, his smile expanding.

“So are we. So why not double date?”

“I don’t mind,” Garrett offers as he takes in your concerned expression. “You two…know each other, right?”

You open your mouth to speak but before words can pour from it, Rafe wraps his arm around you.

“Best friends. She and I go way back. Isn’t that right, princess?”

His intense blue eyes settle on you. You swallow the lump in your throat. Anger can’t begin to describe how upset you are with Rafe right now for crashing your date, but you also don’t want to cause a scene, make things even worse than they already are. 

So you force a smile on your lips and nod.

“Y-Yeah, we do.”

Throughout the night, Rafe’s presence causes the date’s slow descent into a nightmare. Every time Garrett tries to strike up a conversation with you, Rafe interjects, his comments toeing the line between innocently inconsiderate and outright rude. He never lets the two of you have a moment, interrupting whenever Garrett looks at you for more than half a second. You grow weary of his antics. So does Rafe’s date. You can see the pretty redhead in front of him growing frustrated as he treats her as if she were a potted plant.

She ends up leaving the table to go to the bathroom but never returns. It doesn’t shock you. If someone inflicted upon you what Rafe has to the poor girl the entire night, you might take your leave as well.

By the time dessert comes, you’re on the cusp of tears. This is not how you envisioned your night going. 

The awfulness doesn’t stop there.

When it’s time to part ways, Garrett finds his truck in an unfortunate state. 

He curses under his breath as he hunkers down in front of his car. 

“Some punk sliced my tires.”

In the back, Rafe shakes his head.

“Damn, tough luck. Guess I’ll have to drive you home, princess.”

You scowl at Rafe before placing a hand on Garrett’s arm. He’s already on his phone to contact someone to help move his truck.

“I could wait with you,” you say softly. 

“It’s fine,” he replies. “Just go home. We’ll text, okay?”

Your tone turns contrite. “Okay. I’m so sorry… about everything.”

“Don’t worry about it. I still had a good time.”

“Me too.”

Despite his assurance, you aren’t too hopeful he’ll want to see you again. You know this wasn’t what he had in mind for the night. And neither did you. 

You reluctantly trail behind Rafe, looking daggers at him when he opens the door of his black Volvo for you. 

Not an ounce of guilt lurks on his handsome face, which tosses more fuel on the flames of your ire. 

You don’t utter a word, almost too angry to speak. The last shred of your patience fizzled out in the restaurant, as your so-called best friend basked in your misery, getting a kick out of making a mockery of your night.

If you talk, it won’t be to have a calm, level-headed conversation with Rafe. It’ll be to spew venom at him.

As he parks into the driveway of your house, he lets go of the steering wheel and says, “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

You draw a long, slow breath.

“You think?” you snap icily. You jump out of the truck and slam the door closed.

Rafe follows you to your doorstep. You fumble with the lock. Your fingers quiver so much, you can’t even open the door. After a few unsuccessful tries jamming the keys inside the lock, Rafe takes them from you. He opens the door and you stomp inside. 

You toss your clutch on a nearby table and whirl. 

“What the hell, Rafe?” you shout. “You embarrassed me!”

His shoulders lift and slump.

“Well, you shouldn’t have been there to begin with.”

Disbelief rounds your gaze. “What?”

“You heard me. You shouldn’t have been on a date with him.”

Folding your arms, you scoff, “Right. Why is that?”

Rafe inches closer to you, his eyes locking with yours.

“Because you should have been on a date with me instead.”

A weary exhale drops from your chest. Rafe’s declared many things while hammered but this one takes the cake.

“I think you’re drunk,” you dismiss. “You need to go home, Rafe.”

Rafe’s jaw ticks.

“My mind is perfectly clear, okay? If you’ll just listen to me-”

“Go home, Rafe.”

You nearly turn your back on him but Rafe’s sturdy hand fastens around your arm, yanking you back.

He takes a long pause, drinking you in.

Rafe takes a deep breath before confessing, “I love you. I’ve always loved you.” His throat bobs as he adds, “And I know you love me too.”

Your mouth tumbles open, shock snatching the very air from your lungs. You stare at Rafe. Perhaps you heard him wrong. In your wrath, his words may have landed in your ears a little warped.

But as you get lost in his sea gaze, the truth sinks into you. He is serious. Very serious.

A war of conflicting emotions breaks out inside you. For years, you longed to hear those words. But not like this. And the insinuation that he knew how you felt…That he let you suffer in silence while gallivanting around with those girls.

A fast surge of tears blurs your gaze.

“You knew?”

He cradles your face.

“I’ve always known.”

A shudder wracks through your frame.

“So w-why did you never say anything?”

“I figured you’d wait for me, that I could just have some fun. That it wasn’t a big deal.”

Ice fills your blood. Your tone becomes clipped, detached.

“I want you to leave.”

His hold on you doesn’t loosen, his cheek pulsing in frustration.

“Really? I tell you I love you after all this time and this is your response?”

“I haven’t had those feelings for you in years, Rafe. And right now…I don’t even like you as a person.” Rafe bristles at your blunt words, looking like you slapped him. Your mouth wobbles as you say, “You’re not who I thought you were. I want you out of my house and out of my life.”

Something shifts in his blue eyes. The air around you drops a few degrees as he pushes you further inside the room. Desperation lurks in his deep timbre.

“Come on, we can talk about this, princess.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Dread escalates within you when he doesn’t move. You’re hit with the daunting realization that you’re alone with Rafe, your parents away on a trip right now. Usually being alone with him wouldn’t have fazed you, may have ensconced you in a sense of security and comfort even. Not tonight. Tonight, you don’t recognize the Rafe standing in front of you. Your voice trickles out small and shaky. “R-Rafe, get out, I’m serious.”

His expression hardens. He shoves you into a nearby wall. You gasp as pain prickles along your back.

“Just admit that you love me too,” he roars. 

“I don’t,” you whimper as water brims under your lashes.

This propels him to the brink. There’s no time to process anything, Rafe hoisting you with ease. As he takes long, determined strides to your bedroom, your fear grows. He hurls your body into the bed. He fiddles with the buttons of his khaki pants until they come loose. A scream builds inside your throat, refusing to break past your lips as you linger in bewilderment. Rafe isn’t doing what you think he’s doing…what he’s preparing to do. There's no way. He wouldn’t.

Stupor girdles your motions. For a while, you gape at Rafe. As he approaches the bed, adrenaline rushes through you. You remember how to move.

But it’s for naught. Rafe is quicker than you, catching you when you rise and slamming you back on the sheets. He crawls over you. His blue gaze glimmers strangely in the darkness. Streaks of moonlight pour between your half-draw curtains, casting ominous shadows over his broad frame.

He cages you beneath him, shushing you as you croak out pleas for him to stop.

“I know you’re lying,” he rasps, scattering sloppy kisses alongside your neck.

He yanks down your dress and your breath hitches. 

“I’m not. I don’t-” Words wither on your tongue as he flicks his thumb over your nipple, his other hand patting underneath your dress. “I-I don’t love you anymore, Rafe.”

“I don’t believe you.”

His fist curls around the vee part of your thin lace panties, tugging roughly enough to tear the delicate material. You squeal as the lace dents your flesh when it rips.

Your heart bounces. You push against Rafe’s chest with newfound urgency.

“Rafe, stop.”

He snatches both of your wrists and traps them above your head. Helplessness chokes your airways as he pokes lightly at your entrance. He slides one finger between your walls and you keen, breath faltering at the abrupt intrusion. His lewd gaze remains trained on you as you squirm beneath him.

“Why do you keep lying, huh?” he accuses, forcing a moan from your throat when he curls his digit inside you. When your eyes squeeze shut in denial, he lets go of your wrist to frame your jaw.

A sob spills from your throat, your eyes flying open.

“Nah…I want you to look at me, princess,” he orders, jerking your head up so your gazes lock. You choke on your breath when he shoves a second finger inside you. He slowly drags his fingers in and out of you. Heat gathers in your core. You writhe against the sheets, resisting the urge to buck your hips to seek more of the friction. He grazes a uniquely sensitive spot and your lids quake, a soft whimper flying from your mouth. You clench around Rafe’s fingers and he unleashes a sigh of pleasure as you grip him. You feel him harden against you. Your stomach knots at the pressure. His eyes are glued to you, soaking every minute shift of expression while he pumps his fingers inside you. 

“I know you never stopped loving me,” he whispers, the alcohol on his breath seeping through your senses. “Think I don’t see the way you look at me?”

As you near your undoing, he removes his fingers. You sag against the sheets. The sudden emptiness leaves you with a mix of emotions you’re too ashamed to admit.

He presses his thick tip against your dripping entrance, gathering your arousal when he runs it along your folds. He pushes in slowly, his eyes rolling back at the sensation of your velvety warmth welcoming him. You tense at the intrusion. Your fingers curl into the sheets. Rafe’s broad frame covers yours, his forehead resting against yours as he whispers, “Say you love me.”

When you don’t reply, he slams his cock inside you in one swift stroke. Your back curves, a quiet scream ripping from your throat. Your chest lifts and falls rapidly as Rafe’s thick girth fills you up completely. 

He begins moving inside you, his pace relentless and unforgiving. While his length is splitting you apart, it’s hard to deny the warm tingles pulsing through your core, joining the pain in devious harmony. 

You go limp on the bed, his thick cock stretching you more than ever before. Every time he grazes your sweet spots, you spiral further down, your thoughts melting in the flames consuming your body.

“Say it,” he grunts, his warm breath fanning over your face. 

His bulging muscles coil beneath his clothes from the force he exerts to shove all of himself inside you. Heavy breaths drop from Rafe’s chest as your walls squeeze around him. Drenched locks of his dirty blond hair cling to his forehead, beads of sweat collecting between his furrowed brows and dripping to your parted lips. 

When you remain silent, Rafe’s large hand wraps around your throat, his tone more firm and menacing than before as he snarls, “Say that you love me, princess.”

His fingers crush your windpipe until you give in.

You can barely eke the words out, every harsh snap of Rafe’s hips into yours filling your vision with stars.

“I l-love you, Rafe.” 

The words ache as they part from your throat. A bitter truth you buried long ago, beneath thick layers of heartbreak and denial. One you hoped would never crawl its way back to the surface. One that hurts even more now, shatters you as it leaves your lips. Because you can’t tell if Rafe forced it out of you or if it was there all along. Perhaps it never left you. Perhaps, even after all your attempts to purge Rafe Cameron from your flesh and soul, even after he’s done the unthinkable to you…Part of you may still love Rafe, may always love Rafe.

As you grow overwhelmed with warring emotions, his cock still viciously ramming into you, you don’t know who you hate more. Him. Or yourself.

Salty streams spill down your cheeks. 

Rafe kisses them away, gently cupping your cheek while thrusting roughly into your cunt. His other hand explores your curves, clutching your flesh possessively. You can already feel bruises forming beneath his rough, insatiable touch. His eyes find yours, a possessive glint swaying in his intense blue gaze.

“Of course you do.” His lips stretch in a smug smile. “You’ve always been mine, princess, you just didn’t know it yet.”

[0cta9on]

Sana and Miyeon fucking their boyfriend and they fight over him to make him choose her favorite girlfriend (full story please)

A Stroke of Luck

length: +3k words

Twice Sana x (G)-Idle Miyeon x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long!! First threesome piece, so I hope it's alright)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Sometimes you wonder just how you got so lucky. Since the day you were born, you were able to glide through life, getting anything you could ever want with a simple wave of your hand or a nod of your head. Perhaps your life of luxury can be attributed to your incredibly wealthy parents spoiling you the second you drew your first breath, or maybe your past life sacrificed themselves to save the universe and the higher power up there is finally giving you your recompense. Regardless, you revel in the fact that you have everything - and everyone - right at the tip of your fingers.

Frankly, you have a vague memory of how you met them - your memory always gets hazy when alcohol is involved. You were never too keen on clubbing, viewing it as a waste of money for a night you’ll never be able to remember, but it was a small price to pay to appease some potential business partners that your parents would eventually bleed dry before tossing to the curb. While trying to keep up appearances, the crowd parted at just the right moment, allowing you to gaze upon these goddesses for the first time, two Mona Lisas that made even the most beautiful supermodel comparable to a two-year-old’s crayon drawing. This is when your memory gets a bit blurry. A quick exchange of sultry alcohol-infused words, a brief yet lingering touch on the arm, and suddenly you had them both face down in some expensive hotel room, pounding away to high heaven. After a night of blissful sex, you would wake up alone with a note on the nightstand and one new message on your phone from an unknown number. Upon reading the note, only then did you realize just how truly lucky you are.

That night was a year ago. In fact, today marks the exact anniversary of that night - your first anniversary with your girlfriends. You have a whole schedule planned for later, which includes an expensive dinner for the three of you, a private fireworks show, and a steamy ending between the sheets as the cherry on top. As bizarre and outlandish as your situation is, you genuinely do love them and want to spoil them with a good time. Unfortunately (or rather, fortunately), one of them isn’t content with waiting around until dinner rolls by.

The sight of the cute Japanese woman crawling towards you in nothing but one of your white button-up shirts is a sight you would gladly get surgically implanted into your retinas. She tries to glare at you menacingly, but her round eyes and her bread-like cheeks only serve to make her look adorable.

“Sana, what are you doing?” You ask, amused.

“I’m a tiger stalking their prey. Rawr~” she teases, stifling a giggle. Any attempts at trying to watch the game on the TV prove futile once Sana starts rubbing your thighs, her hands tantalizingly close to your crotch.

“Miyeon is gonna be pissed if she finds out we’re fucking without her, you know?” You say as you run your hands lovingly through her silky hair.

“If she finds out.” Sana punctuates her statement with a kiss on your bulge. “Just don’t let her find out,” she giggles. Before you can object, her hands are already unzipping your pants and taking out your erect cock. Sana gazes at it affectionately, licking her lips as she strokes you slowly. Compared to Miyeon, she is much more vocal about her desires, begging and pouting until you finally give in to her demands (Not that you would ever say no to that face). Whether it’s a new handbag or your cock inside of her, Sana gets what she wants one way or another.

“You naughty girl,” you tease, caressing her cheek. “You really can’t wait until Miyeon gets home?”

“Mm-mm,” she mutters, shaking her head before taking your entire length into her mouth. The overwhelming sensation of her tongue lapping up your precum causes an involuntary groan to escape your throat. An entire year of this and not once does it ever get old. Life is fucking great, isn’t it?

Sana’s doe eyes scan your reaction as she worships your member, always so attentive, ensuring that you’re enjoying the experience as much as she is. She watches the way you squirm when she sucks on your balls or the way your breath hitches in your throat whenever her teeth gently graze against your skin. To the unknowing eye, Sana can easily be seen as a materialistic brat, but you know better than anyone how much she reciprocates your affection. It’s most evident in how hard she tries to take all of you in at once, struggling to the point of tears as she forces your cock down her throat.

“Fuck, Sana,” you moan. “Save some of that energy for later tonight.”

She struggles to catch her breath after another attempt at deepthroating you. Precum and saliva coat her mouth and chin, dripping down to her chest that’s barely hidden behind your white button-up shirt.

“I just can’t help myself when I’m with you. That beast between your legs is just sooooo enticing.” Sana hops into your lap, pressing her full body weight into you. You feel her panting breath tickle your nose while you stare at the many charming features of her face. How lucky you are to have such a beautiful woman in your life.

“Why are you smiling?” she teases, the sweet sound of her laugh brushing against your ears.

“I love you, Sana,” you state firmly. Her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink right before she hides her embarrassed expression in the crook of your neck, giggling delightfully. You’re so infatuated by her cuteness that you almost forget that she’s naked and sitting on your lap. Almost.

One by one, you unbutton her shirt, slowly revealing that body you love so much. Her full, perky breasts sit above her toned stomach which flows and ebbs into her petite waist. You run your hands along her familiar curves, painting her chest with kisses. Your body aches for her and hers for yours, clawing and gripping and kissing every inch of your beings, trying to absorb one another just to get closer than humanly possible.

Sana cups your face, eyes steeled with lustful determination. “I need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard that Miyeon gets jealous. I want to be the only woman for you, even if it’s just for a little moment.”

Without another word, you stand up, carrying her by her ass and aligning your cock with her moist folds before staring deep into her eyes as you thrust yourself into her, watching her face morph into several shapes of desire as she adjusts to your size. Sana’s arms and legs wrap around your torso, desperately clinging onto you to try and take in every inch of your cock. You’re not sure how long she’s felt like this; you always considered her and Miyeon to be a package deal, never one without the other for too long. You love them both equally and always ensure that you never showed favorites. Maybe you slipped up recently, or maybe the two of them are fighting behind the scenes. Whatever it is, if Sana wants to feel like the only woman in your life, you’ll gladly grant her wish in a heartbeat.

“Sana… baby… I love you so much,” you pant into her ear.

“MMPH, yes! I love you too, baby! F-Fuck! You’re the only one that can satisfy me!” She mashes her lips into yours, forcing your tongues into a messy yet sensual dance. Her moans vibrate in your mouth, drowning out any kind of background noise other than the clapping of your hips against hers. Her sweet pussy takes you in so well, almost as if it was tailor-made just for you. However, your cock belongs to two women. One of those women happens to be unlocking the front door right at this moment.

“Hey guys, I’m bac- Hey!”

Much to Sana’s dismay, you momentarily pause your thrusts to glance at the source of the voice. The second love of your life, Miyeon, is standing right there with a large bouquet of flowers and an irritated pout on her lips.

“Hi princess,” you say to her, hoping to ease the tension. “What do you have there?”

“They’re from work,” she huffs, tossing the flowers onto the sofa before stomping towards you. “What are you doing?!”

You let out a sheepish laugh as you set Sana down to the ground, pulling out of her sweet embrace. Now two pairs of unhappy eyes are looking up at you. “W-well, you see, you know how Sana is-”

“How could you two have sex without me?!” Miyeon exclaims.

“Yah, don’t yell at him!” Sana interjects. “It’s not his fault he prefers my pussy over yours!”

“O-okay, I never said th-” You try to come in between them, but they both push you away with surprising synchronization.

“No, he doesn’t! You probably just threw yourself at him, you slut!”

Sana gasps. “Slut?! You’re just jealous that he likes me more than you!”

The two continue to bicker and argue, and you start to worry that things could get physical. Right as Sana lifts her hand, you step in between the two of them, shielding Miyeon from a potential slap.

“OKAY, let’s all calm down for a second, alright?” You gently grasp Sana’s wrist, putting it down by her side. “What is going on between you two? You guys are best friends, why are you fighting all of a sudden?”

The two fall silent, averting their teary eyes to the floor, standing there like bickering sisters. You never expected this kind of behavior from either of them, especially on the day of your anniversary.

“Look at me,” you command, lifting up both of their chins towards you. “I love the both of you and I don’t want to see you fighting. We’re going to stand here and talk until this all gets resolved, even if it takes all night.”

Seeing the serious look in your eyes, both of their expressions soften. Sana is the first to speak up.

“I see the way you treat Miyeon. Sometimes I feel like you like her more than me, and it makes me feel… jealous.”

Compared to Sana, Miyeon is on the quieter side, rarely demanding things from you or complaining about anything. In the beginning of your relationship, you assumed that she wasn’t into the idea of polygamy and only tagged along because of Sana. It took a while to understand her, but you eventually found out that Miyeon just doesn’t like asking for things and wants you to basically read her mind. Now, you can tell exactly what she’s thinking just from her body language, and Miyeon consequently became more affectionate towards you. Sana must have noticed the differences in the way you treat her and thought you were showing favoritism.

“Okay, yes, I treat Miyeon differently than I treat you, but that doesn’t mean I love her more than you, Sana,” you reassure her. “You girls have different personalities and both of you deserve a man that can love you the way you want to be loved. I’m sorry if it seems like I treat her better, but that’s really not the case, okay? Please don’t fight because I made a mistake.”

Sana and Miyeon look at each other with an apologetic expression before falling into a warm embrace.

“I’m sorry I fucked him without you,” Sana apologizes.

“I’m sorry I called you a slut.”

Sana pulls Miyeon into a deep and loving kiss. It starts out innocently enough, but eventually, the two begin moaning into each other’s mouths while their hands explore their bodies. You can’t help but stroke your cock at the sight of your two ladies making out in front of you. Miyeon notices your erection and whispers giddily into Sana’s ear, prompting a mischievous smile to grow on the Japanese woman’s lips.

“We’re so sorry about fighting, baby,” Sana says in a sultry tone.

“Yeah, we’ve been such naughty girls.” Miyeon looks at you with her siren eyes, drawing you in with a simple glance. “Maybe you should punish us, baby.”

Sana reaches out and grabs your rod, pulling you closer. “Yeah, punish us with your big, fat cock.”

With your heart pounding with excitement, you grab their wrists, pulling them towards the bedroom as the sounds of their giggles trail behind you. You throw them towards the bed, quickly freeing yourself from any clothing as they watch with anticipation. Miyeon bites her lip as she ogles your body, while Sana touches herself just thinking about all the things you’ll do to the both of them.

“Miyeon is a bit overdressed, don’t you think so, Sana?” You ask, smirking. Sana nods in agreement, pulling Miyeon into a heavy kiss while her hand snakes its way into her top. You get to work on Miyeon’s bottom half, kneeling in front of her and tugging at her skirt to reveal the damp spot on her panties. You pull Miyeon’s legs over your shoulder so her thighs sandwich your face and begin planting kisses all over her supple skin. Sana tosses Miyeon’s top and bra to the other side of the room before sucking on Miyeon’s perky tits. Her high-pitched princess moans fill the room, accompanied by the wet kissing sounds of you and Sana pleasuring her body.

“Ah, fuck! Yes, just like that!” Miyeon exclaims. You hungrily pull off her panties before diving into her heat, licking between her folds and flicking your tongue against her clit. Sana sits behind her, holding her spasming body while nibbling her ear.

“I bet you’re sooooo exhausted after work, aren’t you, princess?” Sana whispers into Miyeon’s ear. Miyeon nods amidst her whimpering, biting her lip at her girlfriend, begging for her to take her. Sana obliges, shoving her tongue into her mouth as you shove your tongue into Miyeon’s dripping pussy. It doesn’t take long for Miyeon to reach her first orgasm, squirting her nectar all over your face which you gladly lap up, not wasting a single drop. Her body shivers with pleasure, but you have only just begun.

Sana and Miyeon watch intently as you stand up and align your cock with Miyeon’s glistening heat. With a mischievous smirk, Sana moves aside, letting Miyeon lie on her back. Miyeon’s mouth forms an “O” as you insert your tip inside of her, and Sana seizes the chance by sitting on Miyeon’s face, grinding her hips into the Korean woman’s open mouth. Your bodies form a literal love triangle as Sana pulls your face towards her, catching your lips with hers as you thrust deeply into Miyeon. You imagined this to be the last thing you did on your anniversary night instead of the first thing, but you don’t mind doing things a bit out of order. As long as these two lovely ladies are happy, you’re happy.

“Isn’t Miyeon’s pussy so tight, baby?” Sana asks with a smirk on her face. You nod, becoming increasingly aroused by Sana’s dirty talk, quickening the pace of your thrusts. Miyeon’s muffled moans become significantly louder, causing Sana to cling onto your shoulders for support as she reaches her climax. Sana pulls your head into another kiss, moaning into her mouth as her body trembles from her orgasm. She eventually collapses to the side of the bed, allowing Miyeon to finally breathe. 

The light reflects off of Sana’s nectar on Miyeon’s skin, giving her the appearance of a glimmering angel. You slow down the pace of your thrusts, bringing your face close to Miyeon’s ear.

“Mirror?” You ask simply. She nods excitedly, biting her lip with anticipation.

If there’s one thing you learned about Miyeon since dating her for the past year, it’s that she absolutely adores herself. If she suddenly turned quiet, it was because she was either staring at a mirror or taking selfies. Every time she sent you nudes, it was more so to show you just how beautiful is rather than solely for your benefit (Not that you minded, of course). On the nights the three of you felt particularly frisky and decided to film yourselves, Miyeon would always rewind her parts, going on about how sexy she looks when she’s about to cum or how pretty her own moans sound. You wouldn’t say she’s narcissistic; rather, she’s just confident in her looks, and she had every reason to be. Cho Miyeon is the perfect embodiment of a princess, and you love that about her.

You bend Miyeon over the vanity, making sure she has a good view of herself before you rail her from behind. She peers over her shoulder at you and winks, wiggling her ass playfully.

“What are you waiting for? Aren’t you gonna punish m- AH!”

You grip onto Miyeon’s slim waist and begin to pound her hot cunt with ease. The entire vanity shakes as she clings onto it for dear life, barely able to support herself as her legs become as stable as jelly. Despite the stage of disarray she’s in, Miyeon maintains eye contact with herself in the mirror, evidently turning her on more with how her pussy tightens around your cock.

“Cum for me, princess,” you whisper gruffly into her ear. “You look so pretty when you cum.”

“I do?” she asks, flashing her puppy dog eyes at you through the mirror. You nod, unable to speak a coherent word as the sensation begins to feel too much. Miyeon squeals with pleasure as her juices begin to leak down her legs and onto the floor. You hold her up in case her trembling legs give out on her as she rides out her orgasm.

“Good girl,” you reassure her, planting kisses all over her back. Once she calms down, you help her to the bed and lay her down gently next to Sana.

“That was so fucking hot, princess,” Sana says, giving Miyeon a small peck on the lips. Miyeon giggles, her eyes barely able to stay open. With Sana’s energy back and your cock still hard, she descends on you like a panther, pinning you to the bed.

“Miyeon’s tongue is nice, but I needdddd your fat fucking cock inside of me,” she smirks as she straddles your lap, guiding your tip inside of her pussy. Her eyes roll back inside of her head as she takes you little by little, before completely bottoming out inside of her. After a moment of adjusting, Sana begins to ride your cock, holding onto your chest for support. You squeeze and tug at her bouncing tits, eliciting cute little squeals from her. A still-tired Miyeon decides to join in the fun, pushing Sana down onto your cock with more force and teasing her clit.

“HOLY FUCK!” Sana squeals ecstatically.

“I bet you like being a little slut, huh?” Miyeon teases her. “You like being filled up by our boyfriend’s cock, don’t you?”

“FUCK! Yes, I love it so much!”

“You wanna be filled with his cum, right baby?” Miyeon smirks at you as she whispers into Sana’s ear. With how close you are, you have no choice but to follow along with her impromptu plan. 

“Oh god, yes please fill me with your cum, baby!” Sana exclaims, eyeing you desperately. Miyeon’s hand trails up your chest as she leans in towards you.

“You heard her,” she says, slyly cupping your cheek. “Better give her what she wants.”

Without hesitation, you shoot your load straight into Sana’s womb. Sana’s second orgasm follows shortly after, your fluids mixing together inside of her. Out of an entire year of fucking these two wonderful girls, this is the hardest orgasm you have ever experienced.

Eventually, Sana collapses on top of you, gasping for breath, while Miyeon quickly laps up the fluids dripping from the Japanese woman’s legs. You can’t help but laugh at Sana’s post-orgasm shivering.

“H-holy… shit,” Sana says breathlessly. “That… was fucking amazing.”

Miyeon crawls up, laying her head on Sana’s chest. “Yeah, he’s pretty great, isn’t he?” The two girls giggle at each other, exchanging playful kisses and warm looks. You wrap your arm around the both of them, grateful that they’re not fighting anymore.

“How did I get so lucky to have the two of you in my life?” You ask, gazing at these two beauties lovingly. With a quick glance at the clock, you notice that you still have a couple hours until the dinner reservation. “Why don’t you two hop in the shower and get ready? I have something special planned for tonight.”

“You’re not gonna join us?” Miyeon asks.

“I would love to, princess, but I know for a fact that we’re not gonna make it to dinner if I join you in the shower,” you joke. Sana jolts up, grabbing Miyeon’s wrist.

“I am NOT missing out on dinner,” Sana states, dragging Miyeon into the bathroom with her. Right before they close the door behind them, they turn to you one last time.

“We love you!” They say in unison. 

You lay back on the bed, smiling to yourself as you look up at the ceiling. How did you ever get so lucky?

[frmisnow]

✧˖ ?!— MEMORIES W. BF! JUNGKOOK

—🐟 ‧₊˚ — : " you are so mean !! "

summary. just a collection of fluffy (& suggestive) moments that could've been a whole fic... but didn't become one!

notes. *insert tiktok audio: did you miss us? cause we missed you* i've been wanting to write quite often since me taking a break but the weeks have been TOUGH- regardless i did rly miss all of you ;( hope you enjoy this lil bf! bf! bf! jungkook drabble headcanon-ish thing (?) as a makeup gift for me being gone!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

warnings/includes. the most teeth-rotting boyfriend kook there is rly, two very very in love individuals!!, suggestive (making out & hickeys mentioned), drunk

✧˖ #001. A WISH 4 TATS & ALCOHOL = A MESS.

"this is a horrible idea," you mumbeled as you both stumbeled into another darkly light street, "i got this," jungkook hummed, carefully examining the road to the nearest tattoo shop google maps suggested on his phone.... which was upside down.

"jung- that's not right," shaking your head, turning his phone around, his mouth opening and closing again, "oh"

"you're so smart!" he squeezed your cheeks together, creating one big large pout, placing a quick peek right after which of course turned into the both of you manically making out, leaning back onto the graffiti-filled dirty street wall, the taste of alcohol blatantly evident.

whenever a person would walk by, jungkook would momentarily stop (still holding your face) but turning around and mouthing a quick 'sorry', doing a big ass bow to highlight his apologies- the person would just walk continue walking faster to get out of this alley (and the both of you)

you'd give him a tiny slap on the head murmuring something about him being stupid which he'd dramatically pout about (and probably kiss you to prove you 'wrong' which was just an non-sensical excuse really).

safe to say you woke up the next days with two super cheesy tattoos grazing both of your thighs and a whole lotta hickeys!

✧˖ #002. MAKE IT LIKE UR BIRTHDAY EVERYDAY!

work was shit literally. the days were tough to the point where the only thing you were looking forward to at the end of the day was seeing jungkook.

ever since your work has been loading you with more & more labour, you could tell he always tried to show up earlier than you, it was in his best efforts to greet the exhausted you, open the door with the widest smile and instantly tightly hug you.

today was no different- at least you thought, in fact it turned out that you completly forgot about your own birthday, leading to you being even more surprised when you walked in directly to an even more wider-smiling jungkook then the usual, holding about five pink ballons.

a rather... messy cake delicately placed on the desk, light-up candles grazing the very very colorful dessert, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!" he yelled out, the large grin never making it's way off his face.

"you're so old," he babbeled jokingly, the second he saw your watery eyes immediately embracing you, mumbling something about 'i didn't mean the old-thing anyway' which made you smile again.

so the night ended with the both of you eating the surpisingly well-turned-out cake together as he listened to you rant about how shitty your boss and work place was, nodding along and grinning at some of your comments.

something in his gaze was so loving and always attentive- certaintly this was one of the best birthdays you had.

✧˖ #003. YOU ARE SO MEAN!

"one more beer and i might just say you are developing an alcohol addiction," you perclaimed, taking the glass out of jungkooks hands (that were dramatically holding on for dear life) with a little bit of force, in response getting a loud noise of dissapproval from his direction.

he rested his head on the desk, eyes still open, examining you carefully, "don't say that!"

"oh i will," you bopped his nose sarcastically, your tone more sassy than serious, taking a sip of the beer that you now declared yours.

jungkooks face disappeared into his arms as fast as it was visable in the first place, a whiny mumble being heared through the hair that was in your view: "you're so mean"

you could firmly hear the pout in his voice which made you smile when you responded: "and you are very tired, let's get you to sleep"

leaving the beer on the kitchen table, you used your whole power to lift the grown man of the chair (who was now just as desperately like before fighting back), whines and tiny groans being heard through out the kitchen as you lead him to the bathroom.

"i didn't mean the mean thing by the way," he muttered almost inaudibly while brushing his teeth slowly, "no, i know" you ruffeled through his hair, wrapping your arm around his waist, the both of you looking into the mirror at the same time, the reflection making you both giggle.

"i'm never drinking with you again!"

"you don't mean that"

[joelsgreys]

a safe haven l ten

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter

summary: After a long night, Joel and Ellie take you home.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS MENTIONS OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF AN INJURY SUSTAINED FROM AN ACT OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, PREGNANCY, CONVERSATIONS SURROUNDING PREGNANCY LOSS . PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. Ellie and reader are very close to each other, Joel deals with feelings of guilt, Joel and Maria make nice, Joel gives reader a bath and washes her hair, food consumption (i am just gonna apologize to my lactose intolerant folks right now, trust me i must pretend with you), both reader and Joel have some big feelings, reader mentions her deceased father, angst, soft and domestic Joel, fluff.

word count: 5k

a/n: i have not updated this series since october. :l i feel a a mixed bag of emotions updating after all this time, but most of all, i am grateful to know there are a couple of people out there who are still invested in this story. to anyone who has been waiting: truly, it means the world that you have shown me patience, support, and kindness. believe me, i am going to be seeing this story to the end, and it is all thanks to those who continue to show this lil story of mine a whole lotta love. special shoutout to the loveliest human @mrsmando who made me this beautiful mooodboard every single time i got stuck during this chapter, i looked at it and it gave me the boost of inspiration i needed. thank you mimi <33 this chapter is fairly tame, the next chapter is already in the works, and there are a couple of time jumps coming. overall, we are down to the last handful of chapters. let’s finish this story and give these two the ending they deserve, shall we?

“What the hell is taking Tommy so fucking long?” Ellie whines. She’s sprawled out on the couch with her head in your lap, and her arm draped over her eyes. Her feet are hanging, dangling over the edge of the couch at an odd angle after you’d warned her not to get muck from her sneakers on the linen fabric. Despite Joel insisting over and over that she head on back to the house, she had stubbornly refused, not wanting to leave your side. “It’s been over two hours! He’s taking fucking forever, man. What’s the fucking hold up?”

Joel bites back a sigh, masking his own impatience. Or at least, he tries. He’s grown just as restless as the kid, if not more. Much like Ellie, he’s desperate. He’s itching to take you home already, almost too anxious to watch you take that first step over his threshold, and into your new life with him and with Ellie. He aches, aches, to get you settled into the place where you would be spending the remainder of your days with one another, where you would be safe, and loved in the way you deserved to be loved—the place where he would cherish and adore you until his final breath.

“Don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding rougher, more gruff than usual. Reaching up, he scrubs his hand down the side of his face, adding tiredly, “He might be a while longer, kiddo. It could be another hour, could be more. Like I already told you, s’probably best if you just go on and head back to the house without us, alright?”

“No. I’m not walking out that fucking door unless she’s with me.” She pauses and pulls her arm away from her face for a moment, just long enough to throw a teeny glare his way. “Unless you’re both with me. The three of us go home together, or it’s no fucking deal. Got it?”

He shakes his head in utter exasperation.

“Ellie, we’ll be right here down the fuckin’ road—”

Her hand shoots out and she flips him off.

Just when he’s about to chastise her, he stops himself, clamping his mouth shut. It’s pointless.

Kid’s too goddamn hard headed for her own good, and Joel knows he’s just wasting his breath with her.

“I’m sure he’ll be back soon,” you reassure them both, weaving your fingers through her hair to scratch at her scalp in an effort to soothe her. “Right, Joel?”

He meets your exhausted, worn down gaze from where he’s standing across the room, and his heart lurches in his chest. As the guilt begins creeping in, he’s forced to look away. He can’t imagine the living hell you had been through over the last twenty four hours alone. And the worst part about it was the realization that last night, while he was fast asleep in bed just a couple of houses up the road, that fucking bastard had his belt wrapped around your throat.

Joel feels sick to his fucking stomach all over again.

Horrifying, vividly real images of you helplessly trapped underneath Luke scratching and clawing at the leather around your neck with trembling fingers, struggling to breathe oxygen into your burning lungs as he tugged it tighter and tighter through the buckle flash in his mind, a gruesome nightmare turned into reality.

Exactly how far had Luke taken it?

Until you had grown too weak to keep fighting?

Until you almost lost complete consciousness?

Until he noticed the life threatening to leave your eyes?

Is that when he had finally stopped pulling on the belt?

Joel shudders, a bitter taste climbing up his throat as it sinks in. He could have lost you—and his unborn child.

This shouldn’t have happened.

He shouldn’t have let you walk away that night.

This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let you walk away from him that night.

“Joel,” you say his name, quiet and weary.

His head snaps back in your direction and he glances at you, almost missing the subtle shake of your head. It is a silent warning telling him not to go there, though you know by the tight clench of his jaw it’s too late for that.

Joel makes the futile attempt to hide it, but he sees it written all over your face—you know what he’s thinking because you know him like the back of your own hand, and you just know he’s placing all of the blame for what happened to you on his own shoulders.

But can you honestly fault him for that?

How can you expect him not to feel like he is somehow responsible for this? Just how the hell is he supposed to make himself believe he hadn’t failed you?

Joel promised—he had fucking promised you—that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. He had sworn to keep you safe, made a vow to protect you from Luke, but here you are, your soft, delicate flesh marred with the painful evidence of yet another one of his failures.

And it was all because he had let you walk away on that fucking night.

He should have done something.

Even if it meant running the risk of you never speaking to him again—even if you never forgave him, spent the rest of your life angry and hating him for going against your wishes. He should have something.

“Joel—”

“Be right back,” he mutters, lightly shaking his head.

Shoving away from the doorframe he’s leaning against, Joel pivots on the heel of his boot and starts down the hallway. He walks into the kitchen where he finds Maria standing at the counter, tapping her fingers against the smooth, laminated oakwood as she waits for the coffee she’d offered him a few minutes ago to finish brewing. She’d offered to whip up a quick supper, but food was the last thing on everyone’s mind.

“Tommy’s been gone for a couple hours now. Girls are startin’ to get real tired of just sittin’ around waitin’ for him to come back,” he tells her, exhaling the sigh he’d held back in the living room. “What do you think could be keepin’ him so long?”

With her back still to him, Maria reminds him, “Well, he did mention he was going to round up the council and get them together for an emergency meeting.” She lets out a sigh that matches his own—it’s been a long night for her, too. When the last drop of dark roast drips into the glass pot, she carefully takes the pot by the plastic handle and pours the steaming coffee into a speckled, white and blue ceramic mug. “Do you take it with milk and sugar?”

“No thanks, that’s alright,” he declines as politely as he can.

“I also have cinnamon if you’d like?”

“Plain black’s just fine.” He gives her a nod of gratitude when she hands it to him. “Thank you. And I don’t just mean the coffee, but for, uh—for bandagin’ up my hand for me, too.” He clocks the brief look of surprise on her face and almost laughs. He doesn’t blame her for being taken aback, because truth be told, so is he. Since he’d met Maria, he had known she didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him. There was something of a mutual understanding between them, a silent agreement they had made to keep each other at arm’s length, to only interact when it was absolutely necessary.

Never did he think he would be standing in her kitchen, thanking her for patching up his hand, and for making him a cup of coffee out of the kindness of her heart.

His brother wouldn’t believe it.

“Don’t mention it.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the counter. “How’s it feel, by the way?”

“S’fine,” he replies, shrugging. “Nothin’ I can’t handle.”

There’s a momentary silence. A taste of tension lingers over their heads, and he knows at one point or another, he’s going to have to address the affair, the very reason everything had unfolded in such a terrible manner.

Guess now’s as good a time as fuckin’ any, he thinks to himself with an inward sigh.

Joel lightly clears his throat. “Listen, since we’ve got a minute alone, just the two of us, I was wonderin’ if, uh—if we could talk ‘bout somethin’? If that’s alright?”

“Of course.” Maria gives him the floor.

“I know that she—” Pausing, he shuffles from the heel of one boot to the other, his ears burning hot. He had known it wouldn’t be an easy conversation to have, but he underestimated just how uncomfortable it would be, regardless of what she already knew. “I know she told you and Tommy all ‘bout us, and ‘bout our relationship. See, the thing is, the first time I saw her—”

Again, Joel stops, the burning sensation now radiating, spreading from his ears to his face and down his neck, flushing his skin a deep, deep shade of pink. Unable to meet his sister in law’s gaze, he glances down into his mug, as if he will somehow find the right words to say somewhere in the depths of his coffee.

“It was never my intention, y’know,” he finally says after a minute. “Goin’ after a married woman. I swear, I never meant to fall for her. I just fuckin’ did. I think I might’ve fallen for her long before I even met her,” he confesses. He feels himself darken to a shade of maroon under her curious stare. “And somehow, for reasons I ain’t all too sure I’ll ever understand, she fell for me too.”

Maria raises an eyebrow at him. “Look, I’m not judging you, Joel,” she assures him, shaking her head. “If that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not judging her, either.”

He looks up at her, blurting out, “You’re not?”

She moves her hands to cradle her swollen middle. “Do I wish you two had handled everything differently?” she answers her own query with a nod of her head. “Oh, I’m sure we all do. But I’ve known her for a long time now. I know the kind of woman she is. And I’m starting to see the kind of man you are.”

“And what kinda man is that, Maria?”

He waits without the slightest clue as to what she could possibly say.

“Since you came back to Jackson, I’ve chosen to keep my distance from you—but make no mistake, I’ve been watching you like a hawk since day one. Waiting for any signs of trouble. Waiting for you to fuck up. Waiting for you to give me a good reason to throw your ass out of this community because I didn’t trust you. Not after all the things I was told about you.”

He snorts. “You goin’ somewhere with this?”

“You are not who I thought you were,” Maria admits, smiling wryly. “I’ve gotten to see a different side of you. You pull your weight around here by doing your job and doing it well. You stay out of trouble—for the most part. And more importantly, I have seen the way that you’ve stepped up to be a father figure to Ellie. It takes a good man to do that, Joel.”

“Think that’s the nicest fuckin’ thing you’ve ever said to me,” he muses, setting his mug down on the counter. “I stepped up because I love her. I love them both. Those two, they’re the best parts of me. They’re the reasons I keep goin’ and now I’ve got another reason on the way.”

Maria smiles, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.

Catching her hesitance, Joel asks, “What? What is it?”

“What comes next is not going to be easy,” she warns him, lowering her voice. Even with the living room a fair distance from the kitchen, she doesn’t want to run the risk of you overhearing her. “For as hard as we’re going to try to contain the fire, it will spread, and everyone in this town will find out about everything—including the affair. People are going to talk, and believe me, they’re going to have a whole lot to say about it, Joel.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at her.

“Think I can handle some fuckin’ gossip, Maria.”

“I know you can. But I’m not sure if she can,” Maria tells him, quietly. “It worries me. She’s been through a lot in just one night alone. I don’t want her stressing anymore than she already has. She is in a very delicate stage of her pregnancy right now, Joel. If she’s not careful, she could have a miscarriage. She had one about two years ago when her father became sick—” Observing his lack of a reaction, she realizes, “You knew that already.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. He knows where she’s going with this. “I did. She told me ‘bout it.”

“It makes her chances of having another one higher—”

Joel doesn’t even allow himself to think of it happening to you again. “I get it,” he interjects, trying not to sound too curt. “I’ll make sure she takes it real easy, alright?”

Lifting a hand off her belly, she reaches out and takes a hold of his forearm, gripping it tightly.

“Promise me something, Joel. Promise me that you’ll look after her,” Maria pleads him, gently. “Please. After everything she’s been through—I need you to promise me that she’s going to be in good hands with you.”

He nods. Without thinking, he places his hand over hers in an unexpected token of affection and reassurance. “You have my word, Maria. I’ll take good care of her.”

She gives his arm a grateful squeeze, then glances over his shoulder at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting pretty late. We don’t know how much longer Tommy’s going to be with the council. Why don’t we just go ahead and call it a night?” she suggests. “We can all get together first thing in the morning at your place to talk about it.”

“Yeah, good idea,” he agrees. “She really needs to rest.”

Maria gives his arm another squeeze. 

“Go on then, Joel. Take your girls home.”

“Finally!” Ellie exclaims with a dramatic flail of her arms as she shoves through the front door.

“Alright, kiddo. Get your behind upstairs and into the shower,” Joel instructs her, flipping on the lights in the foyer. “Y’smell like fuckin’ horse shit.”

She lifts the collar of her shirt to her nose, takes a whiff, and makes a face. “Yeah, I won’t argue with you there,” she mutters. She toes off her dirty sneakers and leaves them beside the door before dashing up the staircase, taking two steps at a time.

He shouts after her, “And don’t use up all the hot—”

“Yeah, yeah, I fucking know the rules, dude!”

Moments later, you both hear the shower going.

“Little shit,” he grumbles.

You exhale an amused huff through your nose.

Joel withdraws his arm from around your shoulders and reaches for your hand, lacing your fingers together. “C’mon, darlin’.” He guides you up the stairs and down the hallway into his bedroom where he switches on the light before proceeding to lead you over to his dresser. “I’ve got a bunch of shirts in this top drawer here,” he says. Dropping your hand, he pulls it open for you and gestures to it with a jut of his chin as he takes a step backwards, moving out of the way. “Go ahead and pick one to sleep in tonight. Want you to be comfortable, so help yourself to whichever one you want, sweet girl.”

Nodding, you begin to rummage through the drawer, unaware of the moment he slips away. You reach for a t-shirt, but then a plaid green flannel catches your eye. You pluck it from the drawer, running your fingers over the soft, warm fabric. “Is it alright if I wear—?” You turn around, stopping mid sentence when you realize he’s no longer standing behind you. Puzzled, you follow the sound of running water into the bathroom where you find him kneeling beside the tub. “Joel? What are you doing?”

“Runnin’ you a bath.”

You notice the bloodied bandage beside him on the tile floor. “Joel, are you serious?” you scold him. “Maria just patched your hand up for you.”

“S’okay, peach. I can rewrap it when we’re done.” Joel sticks his injured hand under the faucet to check the temperature, the cold water soothing his cuts. Once it turns warm, then hot, he pulls out his hand, waiting for the tub to fill halfway before shutting the faucet off and rising to his feet. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to his forearms, then beckons for you with both of his hands. “Let’s get you washed up.”

You remain standing by the door. “Joel, you don’t have to do this for me.”

“I know.”

“I’m capable of washing myself—”

“Yeah, I know that too,” he says, chuckling. “S’only fair, darlin’. Don’t you think?”

That’s when it hits you—how this moment is mirroring that night you had cleaned Joel up after you and Ellie had brought him home from the clinic with an injured shoulder. He allowed you to take care of him, and now, he was looking to do the same for you. And all you had to do was let him.

“But your hand—”

“Will be just fine,” Joel persists, stubbornly. “It’s nothin’ but a few cuts and scrapes. C’mon—or else I’m gonna march right over there and get you myself, peach.”

Knowing Joel, you certainly wouldn’t put it past him to throw you over his should and carry you to the bathtub.

“Fine,” you relent with a small sigh of defeat.

Setting his shirt down on the sink, you slowly walk over towards him and whirl around, letting him help you out of your knitted cardigan. You finish undressing yourself, inhaling a deep breath as you muster up the courage to turn back around and face him—when you finally do, it feels like a punch to the gut to see the heartbreak in his dark brown eyes, the subtle tremble of his bottom lip. You don’t have to look at yourself in the mirror to know it looks about a hundred times worse when you’re not wearing clothes.

Keeping your arms down at your sides, you fight every urge to cover yourself up. You’ve never felt so fucking vulnerable.

Clearing his throat, Joel holds out his hand. “C’mere.”

You accept it, and he helps you into the tub.

“How’s the water? S’not too hot, is it?”

You shake your head and he leans forward, kissing your temple so sweetly, your eyes flutter closed.

He washes your hair first, then takes a clean washcloth, lathering it up with a bar of milk and honey soap—the same soap he would smell on your skin all those nights. Admittedly, Joel preferred castile soap, but switched it when he found himself missing you during those weeks you were apart from him, when he needed the comfort of your scent. He is gentle with you, so gentle, as if he’s afraid you’ll shatter into pieces in his hands.

As he lightly drags the washcloth up your back and around your neck, you stiffen, prompting him to freeze too. “Fuck. Baby, did I hurt you?” he asks, and you hear the slight panic in his tone.

“No,” you say quickly, desperately trying to swallow the lump rising in your throat. “No, you didn’t hurt me. It’s just—” Every overwhelming emotion slams into you all at once, and you can’t seem to figure out which one to feel first. Humiliation? Fear? Relief?

The water sloshes around you as you pull your legs up to your chest and wrap your arms around your knees, giving yourself permission to feel them all. Bowing your head, you begin to sob quietly, hoping that Ellie, who is just down the hallway, won’t hear you crying again.

Joel says nothing. Washcloth still clutched in his hand, he leans forward over the edge of the tub and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, or at least, as close as the barrier between the two of you will allow him.

“Joel,” you choke, trying to push him off. “Stop it. Your clothes, they’re getting all wet.”

“Hush. Don’t fuckin’ care ‘bout my clothes,” he croaks, and for a second, you swear he’s about to cry too. But he doesn’t. He holds himself strong. Tugging you closer against his chest, he buries his nose into your soaking wet hair, whispering his reassurance. “You’re okay, baby. You’re safe, my sweet girl. I’ve got you, alright?”

He pulls back slightly, dipping his hand into the water, placing it on your lower belly.

You look down, your eyes glazing over his bruised and battered knuckles. Proof that Joel Miller really would do anything for you.

“I know you do,” you say, softly. “I know you’ve got me, Joel.”

A while later, you’re dried, dressed, and composed. You follow Joel out of the bathroom and back into his room, where he has you take a seat on the bed. Noticing you had missed a button on his flannel shirt, he does it for you. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Give me a minute while I change.”

He peels off his wet clothes, being careful so as not to further agitate his sore, injured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you’re sitting in bed underneath the covers.

“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy—and it smells like you. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”

Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home. Alright?”

Home.

You’re home.

He touches the tip of his nose to yours, and then draws himself back up to full height. “There’s somethin’ that I’ve gotta take care of downstairs, peach. I won’t be too long,” he promises.

It’s almost midnight. Joel goes about the kitchen and he prepares you the quickest meal that he can think of. He plates the sandwich he’d thrown together and pours a glass of cow’s milk—he’s always sure to keep a pint of it in the refrigerator to make the kid her oatmeal in the mornings.

He heads back upstairs, only to find that while he had been gone, Ellie had joined you, making herself a little too comfortable on his side of the bed. He stands there at the door, watching the two of you.

“Hey, so is it true babies can hear stuff while they’re in there?” Ellie questions you, curiously.

“Mhm,” you reply with a nod. “They can hear music, for example. Voices—”

“Voices?” She smushes her face into your stomach and he hears a muffled, “Hey, dude!”

You giggle. “Ellie, I think it’s still a little too early.”

“When do you think it’ll be able to hear me?”

“I’m not too sure. In a few months, maybe?”

Ellie lifts her head, humming. “You know, I bet there’s baby books in the library,” she tells you as she sits up. “I’ll have Dina help me look for one tommor—oh shit.” She stares at you with wide eyes. “Dina! How are you going to tell her and Talia about Luke?”

Joel grimaces. He hadn’t thought of that, either.

“I—I’m not too sure.”

“You have to fucking tell them. Dina has to know about him. She has to know what a piece of shit he is, and so does Talia.”

Sensing your discomfort, Joel steps into the bedroom and intervenes before she can say another word. “Ellie, get to bed. S’late.”

“But—”

“Don’t make me tell you again,” he warns her, sternly.

She huffs, rolling her eyes. “Fine.” She climbs off the bed and on her way out, she eyes the plate in his hand. “That chicken?”

“Turkey. And it ain’t for you, it’s for her. So scram, kid.”

“Couldn’t have made me one while you were at it, old man?”

“Ellie, if you don’t get outta here right now—”

“Alright!” Ellie holds her hands up. “I’m leaving. Jesus.”

She disappears, closing the door behind her.

“Pain in my ass,” Joel mumbles, shaking his head as he walks over and carefully perches himself beside you. He hands you the plate. “Here, darlin’.”

“Joel, I appreciate this, but I’m really not very hungry.”

“Maybe not, but y’gotta eat,” he insists. “Baby needs it.”

Thankfully, you accept it without further protest.

“I’ll have Ellie get your things tomorrow,” Joel states as you’re eating. “Maria can go along with her since she knows the house. They’ll get your clothes and whatever else you might need outta there.”

“My father’s belongings.” You accidentally talk through a mouthful of turkey and bread. Swallowing, you tell him, “I have some boxes of his stuff in the basement. But they’re way too heavy for either of them to carry.”

“I’ll take care of that for you.” He reaches up, wiping a breadcrumb from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “I can ask Tommy to give me a hand. Don’t you worry, peach. We won’t leave your dad’s things behind, I swear it.”

Relieved, you shoot him a grateful look, then polish off the last few bites of your sandwich.

“Here,” he says, offering you the glass of milk. “Figured it’s good for you, and good for the baby. Y’know, since it’s got calcium and…stuff.” He shrugs sheepishly, no clue as to what he’s talking about. “Vitamins, right?”

Nodding, you grab the glass and take a reluctant sip.

“You hate milk,” Joel realizes, raising an eyebrow.

“I do,” you admit with a laugh. “But you’re right. It’s good for both me and the baby, so cheers.” And with that, you somehow force the entire glass down.

He sets the dishes aside on the nightstand, figuring he can take them downstairs first thing in the morning.

Without bothering to rebandage his hand like he’d told you he would, Joel turns off the lights and climbs into bed with you. “All those nights wishin’ I could bring you home,” he muses as you curl into his side. “Wantin’ nothin’ more than to hold you in my arms in this bed. In our bed.” His arm slips around your shoulders, a laugh rumbling through his chest. “Almost doesn’t feel real, darlin’.”

Tilting your head, you nuzzle your nose into the scruff of his beard, prompting him to laugh again. Then, he remembers his conversation with Maria, and his smile fades from his face, his lips pursing together.

You catch the sudden shift in his demeanor.

“Joel? What’s the matter?”

“M’fine, baby. It’s just—” He hesitates. “From this point forward, I need you to let me handle things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you gettin’ all stressed out, alright? I don’t want to run the risk of you—” He’s unsure of how to say it.

“Of me losing the baby,” you finish for him, quietly.

Joel winces, knowing he was wandering into sensitive territory. “Yeah. I—I really don’t want that to happen.” He pauses. “Maria mentioned to me you’re in a delicate stage. When do you reckon you’ll stop—how long until you don’t gotta worry ‘bout it?”

“After twelve weeks, my risk isn’t as high. If I make it to the second trimester in six weeks, then my chances of having another miscarriage are lower.”

Though you speak calmly, he clocks your anxiousness.

You’re worried, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking worried out of his mind too.

Being a father at his age wasn’t ideal, but he wanted this child. It was part of him, and more importantly, it was a part of you.

Joel squeezes your shoulders. “I only ask ‘cause I was thinkin’ that, y’know, once we get to that point, maybe I can go ahead and start buildin’ the baby’s crib.”

“You’re going to build the crib?”

He nods. “And the highchair too. I can even make you a diaper changin’ table if y’want one.”

“Joel.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Our worlds were just turned completely upside down. You just found out that I’m pregnant, and you’re already thinking about building furniture? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

“Hey, those things take a whole ‘lotta time,” he says in defense of himself. “Besides, winter’s right around the corner and I don’t wanna be out in the garage freezin’ my fuckin’ ass off. If I can get a head start now, I can have them all done in the spring by the time the baby comes.”

You fall silent.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I’m really scared of losing it,” you confess. “When I first took that pregnancy test, I wanted nothing more for it to be negative. Now, I’m terrified I won’t make it past my first trimester again. I really don’t want to lose it. I want this baby, Joel.”

He turns his head, meeting your eyes in the silver light shining through the lace curtains over his window. “S’why you’ve gotta let me handle things, darlin’. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“C’mere, my sweet girl.” Joel presses his lips to yours, murmuring against them, “I love you.”

His declaration comes with natural ease.

And so does yours.

“I love you too, Joel.”

[yappersblog]

no one knows — paige bueckers [blurb]

synopsis. paige and you aren’t together, but you’re definitely something.

trigger warnings. nothing, except maybe non-exclusive relationship (?) and little tiny bit of possessiveness.

author’s note. second time posting on tumblr 😋😋😋 and it’s kinda lame & not proof read so sorry people 🙏🏽 my requests are open sooo don’t be shy and request!

more fics. my emily engstler one. go take a look 💋

everyone knows—your teammates know, your friends definitely know, your families know, your coach knows—hell, even your rival teams know too.

everybody knows that something is going on between you and paige, something that gets bigger and bigger everyday and that you should stop ignoring if you don’t want things to go wrong.

but, being your stubborn and dumb selves, the two of you don’t take your relatives’ advices seriously—apparently finding comfort in denial and in your instable relationship.

you’re not taken, but everyone in the university knows better than ask you on a date; all of them knowing perfectly well that paige might become their worst nightmare if they do.

same for paige—even if people didn’t really know how to approach her before, due to her being her intimidating self. they retract themselves even more now that you’re always attached to her hip, and the basketball player doesn’t help them either: the girl immediately playing with her chain—where your initials are written in gold—when someone starts to flirt with her, waiting for the stranger to understand that whatever they’re trying to do is pointless.

but despite all of this possessiveness, care and love that you feel for each other, none of you tried to make this a real relationship—one whose exclusive, and not only to the people but to you two.

the both of you are in love; it’s literally written on your foreheads and necklaces.

however, neither of you are brave enough to man-up and confess your feelings. so, for now, the two of you are stuck in this situation-ship, with unspoken feelings.

“yoooo! what up?” kk loudly screams while entering your dorm room, the rest of the team trailing behind her.

nika, aliyaah and inês make their way to you—the three of them hugging you—while the rest of the group goes to your fitted kitchen to put their snacks down.

“girl boo, don’t tell me you’ve been rotting on this couch since this morning…” kk literally exposes you, making ice chuckles and azzi slaps the back of her neck.

“kk, i know something else whose been rotting for more than a morning…” you say, munching on a cheeto that’s coming from aliyaah’s bag. “your braids!” the whole group bursts with laughter, kk side-eyeing you before laughing it off—taking a seat next to you.

that’s when paige finally decides to make an appearance, her arms free of bags full of snacks. laying against the softness of your couch, you don’t even hide yourself and check out the girl in front of you—your eyes moving from her grey nike tracksuit and her fitted shirt that shows off her biceps, to the glasses on the bridge of her nose and her slick back ponytail.

God, she’s so fine, you think to yourself—paige watching you intently with that smirk that makes you want to give her everything. she knows what’s going through your mind and you don’t even mind this fact.

“yo, get out of my seat kk” the blonde says, her hands deep in her tracksuit’s pockets.

“your seat? girl boo, since when?” kk says back, the sassy little girl coming out of her. you can’t help but chuckle, making paige’s blue eyes look in your direction.

“since forever, move!” trying to stand her ground, kk stays five more minutes next to you until paige decides to take matter into her own hands and pushes the girl on the floor carpet. “how you doing, ma?” the blonde’s arm makes its way around your shoulders, while it’s owner looks at you dead in your eyes and takes place on your right.

“doing good, you?” she doesn’t even respond, only nodding her head and licking her lips the next second—her blue pupils already trailing on her lips. you roll your eyes, popping a cheeto into her mid-opened mouth.

paige laughs, her arm tightening around your shoulders, and munches on the chip.

she smells clean, like a mix between fresh shower and sweet cologne. your favorite scent. actually, everything about her happens to be your favorite thing.

she looks like she’s about to say something, but kk—who has taken place on the floor carpet since she lost her spot on the couch—screaming to her phone screen, with ice on her right and aubrey on her left, stops her.

“oh god, always on live bro” the blonde mutters, glaring at the camera and detaching herself from you—making you frown.

popping another chip in your mouth, you side-eye her, not really understanding what her problem is.

oh so that’s how it is? okay.

your heart stings, but when invasive thoughts are starting to take hold of your mind—you feel a head on your chest and big ass biceps around your waist. your eyes look down, and you can’t help but grin when you see paige comfortably laying on your body—her right cheek pressed up against your breast.

immediately, your hand is playing with her blonde locks—all your attention focused on the girl in front of you and not on the recording live of kk.

“what’s up with y’all gay asses? come say hi to the people!” you hear the light-skinned player says, her head turned in your direction.

“hi people!” you don’t have any other choice but to greet the fans when the screen is being shoved in your face.

comments are flooding, and you try to read some of them, even if you already know that practically all of them are about paige.

“say hi!” paige groans against you, hiding her face even more into the crook of your neck. “okay, grumpy ass” kk laughs and takes back her phone. “what’s up with you?” you whisper-ask her once you’re ‘alone’.

“nothing” she grumbles and you know that whatever-it-is: it’s not nothing. you two keep up the eye contact for a few minutes, before she finally gives in and mutters against your collarbone: “i just don’t feel like sharing you right now, even though i don’t have the choice”

your brain doesn’t know to function for like two minutes before it works again and tells your blood to rush to your cheeks.

paige smirks a little, mushing even more herself into you, then presses a sneaky kiss on your neck.

she loudly hums against your skin, her nose sniffing it—snatching a frown and a giggle out of you.

“the fuck are you doing?” you laugh and she can’t help but laugh too—in love with your big ass smile.

“smellin’ you” the blonde does it again, but way more exaggerated than the first time, tickling you on purpose. “you smell good baby” she stops her little game once she feels you pinching her hip.

you thank her by smooching her cheek, feeling one of her dimples on your lips.

she retakes her place on your body, humming loudly. her arms tighten around you, and it feels like she’s trying to sneak herself into your body because she snuggles her face even more into your collarbone.

but you don’t mind, so that’s okay.

“their guns’ hot pink, that’s for sure” kk tells the live, fake side-eyeing the both of you while the rest of team cackle loudly—each of them knowing perfectly that they are hot pink as hell.

the two of you just exposed yourselves in front of an unknown number of fans, and none of you care—even though your faces might be trending on twitter tomorrow, people asking what kind of relationship you two are sharing.

and the most funny, is that even if you want to: neither you or paige can answer that question—and you don’t really care actually, the both of you just happy to be snuggled up together on this old couch, labelled or not.

written by © yappersblog, i do not accept plagiarism—this is my work and only mine.

[paper-mario-wiki]

alright look i know my following is not the target audience for this kind of post but i wanna at least point something out about a scene in the Fallout show that i haven't actually heard a single person point out or comment on.

spoilers ahead.

in the scene where the ghoul is rewatching his old movie, specifically the scene where he originally protested about killing the villain.

the first layer is the obvious one: he is talking directly to himself. "you were strong, ugly, and you had dignity. i'll give you two out of those three." he remembers what happened at that shoot just as clearly as we did, and after he literally tells himself to his face "you're strong, ugly, and have no dignity" followed by him killing the man he originally wanted his character to save. this, of course, coming DIRECTLY after the person he sold into slavery earlier that day sparing him with life saving medicine while he's on the ground and telling him to his face that he only lives on because someone stuck to their humanity. very heavy! i bet he feels like shit, which he probably should because he's kind of a jerkoff! (but in a cool way that i like to watch)

the SECOND layer is the one i find way more interesting. the phrasing of his final line we didn't hear before was so dripping with importance that it felt like i was reading RPG dialogue and story relevant words were highlighted. "i hope you like the taste of lead you commie son of a bitch". as we'd already seen in episode 3, he despises vault-tec for everything he knows they are responsible for while he was their face. moreover, it's made clear that he doesn't just resent himself for being used for their image, but he resents the fact that he was the face of the propaganda which drove the war fever that caused the end of the world. the wild west ideal caricature of masculine wisdom from the movies as the spokesperson of the company who stood to profit from the purposeful decimation of the human race. he became The Ultimate Jingo.

and i really enjoyed how brief yet informative that detail was! i really enjoyed how the directors tell you what the characters are thinking intuitively and effectively through the camerawork and those little details make the whole thing a lot more fun to mull over and consider as a part of the whole of Fallout! i think it's neat.

[afterglowsainz]

i'mgonnagetyouback pt. 2 | max verstappen

part 1

summary: max is determined to win y/n back before leaving las vegas and an unexpected reunion at the hotel's pool might be just what he needed

warnings: none

word count: 1.5k

a/n: okay so i wasn't actually planning on doing a part 2 to this but a few people requested it and since i'm a pathological people pleaser here it its !!

the tortured athletes department series

“okay so, step one.” charles’s voice caughts his attention.

if max was gonna get y/n back, he needed to do it that weekend, she was leaving for her other tour dates and he had other races, and he needed a plan. that’s where charles, daniel and lando come in.

“break up with your girlfriend.” the monegasque continues. the other two men in the room nod, agreeing with the ferrari driver.

the second y/n’s concert finished, max felt the urge to go running backstage to her just like old times, but his plans were interrupted by the women he went to the concert with in the first place. his girlfriend wanted nothing more than to go back to the hotel and her daughter was too exhausted to even walk in a straight line, so he took them both to the hotel and then ran into charles’s room to create a plan, calling daniel and lando to join them.

“you’re right.” max says.

the thought of breaking up with his current girlfriend has been on the back of his mind for a while now. he didn’t really wanted to accept it, but he’s been in love with y/n all this time and it just wasn’t fair to be with someone else. step one was the most urgent.

“step two, call y/n and tell her that you wanna talk to her.” daniel speaks this time.

this one was the step he was the most nervous about. they haven’t talked for ten months and now suddenly he was thinking of getting back together, i mean, what if she moved on already? just because he hasn’t doesn’t mean she didn’t either; but he remembered her singing a few hours ago about getting him back, even if it was just to punch him in the face. he would take what he can get.

“maybe mention that you went to see her show as well.” lando adds.

“what if she thinks i’m a creep or something?” charles gives him an incredulous look.

“mate, come on, you’re her ex, not some random dude.” max nods again and felt the stress of anticipation already creeping in.

“it’ll be fine, max, nothing to worry about.” daniel tries to reassure him and lando smiles at him in the same way.

he exhales and stands up from the chair he was seated on.

“i should go back to my room. start things with the right foot.” they all agree with him and wish him good luck.

when he got back to his room, he saw his girlfriend’s daughter already asleep on her bed and his girlfriend laying down and watching something on tv. he prepared himself internally and went into the room.

“hey.” he says. “can we talk?”

he was quick. it was as uncomfortable as breaking up with someone is, but he felt a bit relieved after. she tried to persuade him into thinking about it, he said he didn’t want to hurt her. he told her they could stay at that room and he would just ask for another at the reception, she agreed. she asked if this was because of y/n, he stayed silent for a moment. he couldn’t lie, not that it was all already out there, and y/n was not a secret he had to hide to anyone. he said yes. she asked him to get out. he did.

max went down to the hotel’s reception and asked for an extra room. since it was a bit late at night they asked him to wait an hour until they arranged one of the suites for him. he agreed without complaining and was about to head back to charles’s room, however, already on the elevator he impulsively pressed the button for the last floor that took him directly to the pool. it was dark and there was no one there, the dim lights on the inside of the pool being the only lightning.

he walked over to the balcony and admired the view of las vegas beneath him, from his position he could see the whole downtown, including the track that he would be driving that weekend. if he wouldn’t have been too distracted he would have heard the sound of small steps going his way, stopping right at the entrance.

you thought you were seeing things, or that you had gone mad. you blink twice, and when he didn’t disappear, you knew max verstappen was standing right in front of you. you could recognize him anywhere.

the uncomfortable burning feeling of being looked at got the best of him and he finally turned around. he didn’t say anything, thinking it was his imagination playing games, but it wasn’t, you were right there, just mere inches away from him.

“y/n.” was all he could say. he figured a hello would be the way to go. “hey.”

you looked just as shocked as he was, but that didn’t stop you from answering.

“hi, max.” your voice was more confident than how you actually felt.

you had just done a three hour show and just wanted to relax a bit in the pool before going back to your room, and now you were there, facing your ex-boyfriend.

“you’re staying here?” he asks, regretting it instantly because of course you were.

“yeah.” you answer, not moving a single centimeter. “i have a few shows this weekend.” you explain.

“i know.” he says, almost too quickly. you arch a brow at him but don’t say anything. “i’m racing here this weekend.” you nod.

“i know.” you copy his answer, although you take a few more moments to say it.

“i went to your show.” he says out of nowhere.

this shocks you even more than before because what does he mean he went to your show?

“what?” is all that you could mumble.

“tonight.” he clarifies. “i went to see you. i hope you don’t think that’s… inappropriate.” his eyes finally leave yours and he looks at the pool instead.

“i don’t think… why would it be inappropriate?” you ask, a bit flabbergasted still. “i don’t think that.”

he nods relieved to hear you say that.

“so you went to the show?” you ask again. “you heard me sing all those songs?” you question, a bit shy.

“yeah, it was incredible.” he smiles at you. “you’re the most talented person i know.”

this makes you blush because he still has that power over you. you couldn’t manage to thank him for the compliment, so you just smiled at him, which was enough for him.

“i liked your surprise song.” he states, more confident this time.

“oh.” you reply. “you did?” he nods. “yeah, i guess it’s a fun song.” you chuckle, knowing damn well you wrote it thinking about him.

this was it, he thought. this was the moment he had been fantasizing about since he stepped into the stadium that night. how to get y/n back? this was his opportunity to do something. no charles, daniel or lando to whisper in his ear. it was all him.

“is it true?” he questions.

“what?” you frown.

“what you were singing in the song?” he explains. “i’m not gonna flatter myself thinking you wrote it about me, but, did you?”

you bit your lip trying not to laugh. how could you confess that to him?

“are you asking me if i want you back?” he notices that you ignored his question, but he didn’t care.

“i know i do.” you looked at him for a few seconds too long, processing his answer.

“i thought you had a girlfriend?” you mumble and he shakes his head.

“we’re not together anymore.” finally, he moves slowly from the other end of the balcony toward you and you remain still. “i’ve always been yours.”

you look at him properly this time, you could see every detail of his face now with how close he was to you and you felt like the ten months you haven’t talked to him hadn’t passed at all.

“and i can understand if you moved on already, but i must tell you i haven’t, for me it has always been you.”

the reasons of why you had broken up all those months ago seemed so silly now. he wasn’t a bad guy, and you weren’t a bad person. your break up wasn’t ugly, both of you had just been too busy with your crazy schedules and you thought ending things would be for the best, but not a day had passed where you didn’t regret that decision.

max was everything, and he was here in front of you, asking for a second chance.

“and when i saw you tonight at your show and i just fell more in love if that’s even possible, and i thought of all the time we wasted and i…”

you touched his face with tenderness and cut him off with a kiss that was long due.

—

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe and 5.482.049 others

yourusername viva las vegas! 🏁 incredible crowd for and incredible night ⭐️

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user1 omg best day of my life 😭

user2 night 1 post we wonnn

user3 girl we see that emoji 👀

user4 we see max in the likes too 👀

user5 please don’t start this i couldn’t take it 😩

user6 max at the concert, she posted pictures and she sung imgonnagetyouback as a surprise song, las vegas n1 really won 😭

user7 MAX WAS AT THE CONCERT ???

liked by yourusername, schecoperez and 893.482 others

maxverstappen1 Brand new, full throttle… 🏎

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redbullracing congrats legend! 🏆

user8 the only time he smiled during this whole weekend 😭

user9 max is so me cause i also talked shit about this race only to lowkey enjoy it at the end

user10 not him using the lyrics of so high school 😭😭

user11 sir is there something we should know? 👀

yourusername who’s that grand prix winner? 😮‍💨

maxverstappen1 i love you ❤️

user12 WHAT SINCE WHEN

user13 chat is this real ???

user14 y/nstappen back together the earth is healing 🤍

liked by francisca.cgomez, maxverstappen1 and 7.482.949 others

yourusername where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me 💘

tagged maxverstappen1

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user15 EXCUSE ME MA’AM ???

user16 omg y/nstappen i used to pray for times like this‼️

user17 the alchemy mentioned we won !!!

user18 Y/NSTAPPEN NATION LET’S RISE

alexandrasaintmleux so happy to have you back in the paddock🫶🏽💞

yourusername girl i’m happy to be back😭

user19 the fact that he actually run over to her after winning the race ohhh i’m so normal about them 😩

user20 MAX VERSTAPPEN CAN YOU FIGHT?

maxverstappen1 could never fight the alchemy❤️

yourusername my maxxx ❤️

user21 pls they’re the cutest 😭

[moonlightndaydreams]

What do you think Dom Channie's favorite things to do to you are (w a fem y/n) if he was given a choice to do whatever?

This is not an exhaustive list. The more I thought about it, the more ideas would come. I had to rein it in.

MDNI // SMUT

Video you masturbating in front of him. He’ll direct you to sit on his bed, leaning on his headboard. He keeps you dressed in your little black skirt and long socks. “That’s it babygirl. Open your legs for me.” He licks his lip as he hits record on his phone. He sits in his computer chair, pumping his cock with his free hand. “Now, pull your panties to the side. Show daddy your pretty little pussy… that’s it…just like that.” He’ll record you playing with yourself. Then he’ll do another of his favourite things…

Edge you. He stops you from playing with yourself once you’re close to climax, so he can climb on top of you, and push his fat cock into your tightness. He likes to squeeze inside you when you’re on the verge of coming because you’re so wet, swollen and engorged. You suck him in and grip him tight. He continues to video you, focusing now on your face now so he can capture your flushed cheeks and pornographic moans. “Such a good fucking girl. Who’s my pretty little personal porn star…hmm?”, “I should show this to the boys… they’ll probably fuck into their hands watching you.”

Finger fuck you in public. You’re only allowed to wear skirts and dresses so he has access to your pussy whenever he needs to feel you. He’s known to get you to spread your legs in the passenger seat of his car so he can slip his fingers into you while he drives. Too bad if you’re stopped next to a bus at traffic lights, because he’s not going to stop. He’ll wind the window down so if someone looks down from the window of the bus they’ll see it all. At the club he’ll get you to sit on his lap and finger fuck you the entire time. “You’re not going anywhere, babygirl. Not until you cream on my fingers”. Same at the movies. Your parents house at the dinner table. On a flight. On a train. Anywhere really.

Fuck you in department store changing rooms. He’s a sick fuck. He gets you to sample a perfume from the perfume section, then choose a pretty bra or skimpy outfit to try on… then he’ll slip into the change room and fuck you dumb against the mirror. “Listen to how wet you are…the people in the next cubicle know you’re being fucked like you’re a little cockslut.” If there’s a bench or seat in there he’ll get you to ride him. Of course the phone comes out to video you, propping it up in the corner and capturing you riding him. Then, when his done he gets you to return the clothes to the staff member manning the change rooms, knowing they heard the whole thing.

Adorns you with a ball gag and collar when he wants to fuck your ass. With your face pushed into the mattress, he takes his time to prep you properly. Then he fucks you from behind, spanking your ass hard with his hand as pounds into you. With your mouth gagged you can’t tell him to stop, and he won’t stop until he’s good and ready and you have tears streaming down your face.

Fuck your pussy no prep. As much as he loves to fuck you after he’s edged you, he also loves to bend you over the back of the couch, or table, or up against a wall, and push his cock into your cunt without much warning. He loves it because you love it. Your cunt feels so tight as your walls try to accommodate him. Turns out you love a bit of pain. And it turns him on hearing you struggle to take it. “Naww…It hurts doesn’t it, babygirl?” He’ll say as he continues to push further into you. You cry out of from the sting. You cry out because he pushes against your cervix. It’s like he’s not going to fit. But he makes it fit. All it takes is two thrusts and you’re soaking wet and then he can really fuck you hard. “Such a sick little girl, loves it when daddy hurts her.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @chansbabyg @kangnina

@itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @enjaken @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @chuuchuu1224 @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics

[rafescurtainbangz]

Frat Rafe Headcanons +18 Minor DNI

Ask: @babygorewhore Baby I need more frat rafe headcannons please feed me mommy

Sorry this took me so long, babe. Thank you so much for your ask Also, if you haven't, please read @xxbimbobunnyxx frat carwash blurb you should because it’s so cute. Those carwash videos make me blush for reallll. And I swear I'll be dropping some pervfrat!rafe part 2 soonish

Also I dropped fic yesterday and didn't tag people 😭 here

unedited

Pet names, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, public sex, choking, jealousy, ownership kink, perv Rafe, recording sex, possessive, mentions of fighting, degradation

Meeting Him…

Frat Rafe - Who first noticed you from across the lecture hall. Luckily for him, you were sitting next to a pledge who quickly switched seats the second Rafe gave him a hard look. He didn't say a whole lot at first, chuckling to himself as he watched a little blush creep across the apples of your cheeks when he spread his thighs slightly brushing his knee against yours.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't take his eyes off of you through the soapy glass at the Fraternity Car Wash. You shamelessly recorded the show, giggling and smiling as he and his brothers washed cars between slow grinds and finger-drawn hearts. A very wet Rafe Cameron somehow made it through the car window, his tall frame barely fitting inside the cab as he continued to work for your cash. He danced to the music blaring through the speakers, smiling cheekily as you tucked a few extra dollars in his short red trunks.

Frat Rafe - Who waved you down before you could pull out of the lot, jogging up to your freshly cleaned car, asking you to come out to the bar that night.

Frat Rafe - Who sent three back-to-back text messages before you could pull away, the third making your mouth fall open. You looked through the window, watching Rafe chuckle and smirk, pretty proud of himself at the reaction that he got from you and the smile you couldn't take off your lips.

Frat Rafe - Who you fucked after the first date. You couldn't stop thinking about him after the carwash, his tanned, toned skin glistening in the sun. It was unclear just how many times you watched that fucking video, but it was a lot. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him. Rafe Cameron lived up to every one of the rumors. The sex was amazing, the best you ever had, rough and slow, fast when you needed it. His long thick cock filled you deliciously. It seemed like he was always one step ahead of you; like he knew what you wanted before you even asked. His beautiful blue eyes were always on you, hazed with sex. His soft lips and tongue pleased you again and again ‘til you were a babbling mess.

Dating Frat!Rafe…

Frat Rafe - Who’s affectionate and gentle with you. Only you get to see that side of him, Rafe, reserving all his sweetness for you.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to wrap his strong arm around your neck in doggy, tugging you as close as possible, ‘til you're begging him to let you cum.

Frat Rafe - Who went absolutely crazy the first time you called him daddy. The petname quickly became his favorite.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to brag about you to his frat brothers, especially when he's drunk. The blonde, quick to remind them how much better you are than the girls they are hitting on to the point where it's downright rude. You’ll scold his tipsy ass, and he’ll sass you as he continues to dog his friend until you have no choice but to smash your lips against his and steal the words off his lips.

Frat Rafe - Who sent you this message just a few days after you started talking:

Little did you know how much it was on his mind. He hated that you weren't official. A much as Rafe wanted you to belong to him, he wanted to belong to you.

Frat Rafe - Who asked you out that night ‘cause he couldn't wait any longer.

Frat Rafe - Who loves sneaking away with you at parties. Sure, he loves showing you off, but his favorite thing to do is chill in his truck, listening to music while the two of you share a joint and talk.

Frat Rafe - Who would rather spend every night at your place than the frat house because he can actually relax. Some nights you go to sleep alone and wake up with Rafe’s strong body hugging you from behind after he let himself in with the key you had cut just for him. He couldn't sleep and needed you.

Frat Rafe - Who lives in weathered fraternity t-shirts and snapbacks if he's not rocking a crisp polo. At any function, Rafe’s hat usually ends up on your head, one way or another, left on from time to time when you suck him off or ride his cock.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't trust any of his frat brothers around you but Top. If you’re coming over to hang out he's meeting you out at your car to walk you in. If you're at a party his hand is in yours, resting on your back, draped over your shoulder, or wrapped around your waist. He loves the contact just as much as he loves keeping you safe.

Frat Rafe - Who texts you cute/horny shit when he's drunk and you're away.

He often questions how he got so lucky or why are you dating me again? Rafe knows you love him, he just loves hearing it. His frat brothers also know when you're gone for the weekend because Rafe turns into an absolute dick, bitching about everything until you're back.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't care if people can hear the two of you having sex in fact he loves it. Rafe coaches you through each orgasm, trying hard to get you screaming for him.

"C'mon, princess... Let these boys hear how good daddy’s givin’ it to you."

"Shh... Baby, I'd hate for all these guys to hear what a filthy fuckin’ slut you are f’me."

“Bet he didn't think I was fuckin’ you right. What do you think he thinkin’ now huh?”

He also loves watching you walk back into the party all flushed and wobbly knowing that he was the reason you were weak in the knees. Rafe loves to mark you with love bites, and hand prints, dark hickies on your cleavage that peek out of your low-cut dress, pairing beautifully with the sparkly little R pendant around your neck.

Frat Rafe - Who dedicates every Wednesday night for date night and will never let a frat meeting or function interfere.

Frat Rafe - Who’s a surprisingly good dancer. He’ll only dance at the bar if he's wasted, but when he does, your ass is pressed up against him with his strong hands clutching your hips. It doesn't take long until you’re dress is bunched up around your waist, panties pushed to the side, with Rafe’s pants in a puddle around his ankles as he fills you up in the dingy bar bathroom. On the other hand, if you’re at the frat house, it only takes a song or two until your bent over the bathroom sink or pressed up against the hallway wall.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't wait for Spring Break. Each drunken day was spent at the beach with his frat brothers and your friends - each night, a different bar. But Rafe made sure you still had some moments alone whether it be to take you shopping, share a beer, or watch the sunset.

Frat Rafe - Who got rid of his dirt bike and bought a motorcycle instead. Of course, making sure he bought a helmet for you so he could bring you to class or for a cruise around campus.

Frat Rafe - Who fell in love with you all over again when you made him a beer poster with yourself as the model. You had no idea how much he loved it until you showed up to the next frat party and saw it framed on the wall.

Frat Rafe - Who’s gotten in trouble with the law a few times for fighting. Rafe, no stranger to a fight on account of you when someone tries to start shit or gets handsy. He never ends up making it to jail, usually talking or paying his way out of it.

Frat Rafe - Who knows your class schedule like the back of his hand. Whenever he's at the library he’ll text you and ask if you need a study break which is code for stuffing you full of his cock in study room D.

Frat Rafe - Who jealously gets the better of him, and when he pisses you off, all it takes is a flirty smile and a wave at one of his frat brothers or a hockey player to set him off. The rest of the night consists of rough, possessive sex, and punishment which somehow turns into sweet, slow passionate sex where's he's mumbling I love you’s and I’m sorry’s between deep strokes and kisses.

Frat Rafe - Who loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his oversized frat t-shirts paired with your cute little panties.

Frat Rafe - Who sends you gym selfies because he knows how crazy they make you, especially post-workout shots.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't keep his hands or eyes off you at the frat formal. It was hard not to think about the future when you looked so pretty in your white sparkly dress.

Frat Rafe - Who’s fiercely loyal. You never need to worry about other girls around him, but the sight of it still makes you jealous. Rafe is quick to assure you you're all he wants and needs.

Frat Rafe - Who has a thing for your panties. The lacey and prettier the better; wrapped around the shift of his truck, looped over the hand of his bedroom door, the rung of his bedpost, anywhere and everywhere. He loves to wrap them around the base of his cock when you ride him or knot them around your wrists when he ties you to his headboard. But his eyes roll back in his skull when you stuff them in his mouth because he loves how you taste.

Frat!Rafe - Who loves recording the two of you having sex and frequently snaps pictures of you just ‘cause.

Frat!Rafe - Who won't just send you dick pics when you ask, but videos with the sounds on, usually moaning your name until he’s spilling onto his hand, using the pictures or videos the two of you took as porn.

Frat!Rafe - Who had to change his lock screen when you took him home for the holidays because it was a picture of you in his favorite lingerie.

Frat!Rafe - Who has pictures of you everywhere and he doesn't care who sees because don’t you wish you had a girl like mine.

Masterlist

Pictures and texts from Pinterest

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[barcaatthemoon]

be like water || fridlona rolfo x reader ||

you try to pull away from frido when your feelings become too much to handle.

you didn't think it was possible for you to be so stupid. there had never been a doubt in your mind about following frido and ingrid from wolfsburg to barcelona. they were your best friends, and it made ingrid feel a lot better if she was close enough to really look out for you. what you couldn't believe was how quickly you managed to fall for frido once mapi came into the picture.

in all actuality, you had always had feelings for frido. she was kind, caring, and gorgeous. however, she had always ever spoken about boyfriends. you knew that didn't mean your crush was completely hopeless, but you also had trouble imagining a reality where frido liked you back.

you could think of a million reasons why frido wouldn't have felt the same way about you. there would always be so many things standing in the way of your happy ending. you were fairly certain that frido was straight since she had never shown an interest in any of your other teammates before. if it wasn't that, then the age gap was sure to get you. you had been barely 18 whenever the two of you had met, and it didn't help that ingrid had introduced you as "the baby" of the norweigan team.

'baby norway' was what they had been calling you since your call up to the national team at the tender age of 15. you had been a super sub back then, but it had only taken you a year and a half to become a consistent starter. you'd been blessed with practically no injuries, none that required rehab or surgeries at the very least. however, all of that came crashing down around you at barcelona.

it had started with a little tweak of your ankle during practice. frido cursed herself for not noticing it earlier whenever you went down at the next game. you knew that it wasn't her fault, you had already begun to pull away from her. still, she sat with you in the trainer's room while it got checked out.

"frido, you don't have to stay here," you told her. ingrid was out on the pitch and mapi was sitting in the stands with the rest of the injured players. you had hoped that frido would have stayed on the pitch, but instead, she had been insistent on coming with you. it was hard for you to avoid your feelings whenever frido openly showed how much she cared for you.

"jona has already subbed me off. am i just supposed to leave you here all by yourself?" frido asked you. you opened your mouth to tell her that was exactly what she should do, but she cut you off first. "don't be ridiculous. you and ingrid were there for me whenever i got hurt. i want to be here for you too."

"frido, please. this is the last thing that i need right now. just, go take a shower and calm down," you said. frido couldn't come up with a reason to argue with you, so she reluctantly left you in the trainer's room. once she was gone, you laid back and took a deep breath. it felt like a weight was lifted off of your chest once she was gone, only to be replaced by guilt clawing its way through your throat. frido just wanted to be there for you, but you couldn't get over your stupid feelings for her long enough to let her.

…

"so, tell me again why i'm the one picking you up from the hospital when i know for a fact that frido asked to do this?" ingrid asked you. she had been around countless times when frido offered to take care of you or escort you from appointment to appointment.

"we haven't gotten to spend much time together lately, and i missed you, that's all." it wasn't a complete lie, but ingrid knew that it wasn't the whole truth either. she pulled down a side street and turned her car off. you couldn't get out on your own, so the two of you were trapped there until ingrid got the truth out of you.

"did something happen between the two of you?" ingrid asked. you shook your head as you pulled your good leg up into the seat in front of you. you rested your head against your knee to keep it turned away from ingrid. "you still love her, don't you?"

"of course i love her, she's my best friend. i came all the way from germany for her, ingrid. i just didn't know that i couldn't be around her alone," you confessed. ingrid paused as she took in your words. you had always been adamant that you came for both of your friends, even if ingrid knew otherwise. she knew all about the secret feelings you kept for frido, just like she knew how conflicted frido felt about you.

"mapi is going to kill me for this, but i want you to stay with me for the next week or so, okay? neither frido nor i want you to be alone, but i won't force you to stay with her if you can't handle it," ingrid told you. you thanked her quietly as she started the car up again and drove off towards her apartment.

she didn't tell you about frido already being at your place. ingrid didn't tell you a lot of things, just like she didn't tell frido anything either. she kept both of your secrets until one of you were ready to come out with it. she wanted to help you desperately, but knew that it wasn't her place to put it all out in the open.

…

"i don't get it. did i do something?" frido was practically tearing her hair out as she sat on the couch next to ingrid and aitana. your stay with mapi and ingrid had ended over a week ago, but you were still dodging all of frido's texts and calls.

"it's not you, i promise," ingrid reassured the older woman. "the baby just has some things to work out, that's all. this is a difficult time for her, she's going through a lot."

"but why is she pushing me away? i could help her, but she won't let me." tears sprung to frido's eyes. you had always seemed closer with ingrid because of your shared nationality, but it had never been an issue for frido before. "i need a minute."

"frido, wait!" ingrid shouted. frido was standing, but she didn't make a move to leave her place. "let me drive you to (y/n)'s. i think you two realy need to talk."

"she doesn't want anything to do with me. i'm not you, it's okay," frido said. ingrid sighed and pulled frido outside. the drive from your place was pretty short, usually just a ten minute walk.

ingrid felt bad about blindsiding you, but this conversation couldn't wait any longer. both you and frido were tearing yourselves apart trying to navigate feelings and your friendship. ingrid knew how easy it could be for both of you, and that was all she wanted. she just wanted her friends to be happy, even if the thought of making a move terrified the both of them.

you hadn't expected any visitors, so ingrid and frido's arrival had taken you by surprise. ingrid shoving frido through your front door and closing it for you was an even bigger one. ingrid knew practically everything, and yet, here she was forcing you to be alone with the person who had been giving you so much grief for the past few months.

"i think we need to talk, but i don't know what to say to you," you told frido. you hobbled over to your couch and sat down. frido just stood in front of you and paced around your living room. "fridolina, calm down."

"no, i can't. i am sick and tired of being calm about this. you've got me worried sick. i care about you so much, and i want to help you through whatever this is, but you won't let me. i know that i'm not ingrid, and i'm sorry, but fuck! let me help you." frido's voice grew as she spoke, but she never really got close to shouting at you. "talk to me, please. i miss the way things were in germany, it felt so much easier back then."

"trust me, it was never any easier. we just weren't alone back then like we are now," you told her. frido glanced down at you, a look of confusion on her face. "i don't want you to be ingrid, frido. i love you for you, and that's the problem."

"your problem is that you love me?" frido asked you. you nodded, unable to look up and meet her gaze. you kept your eyes down as you felt her approach you. the couch dipped down as frido sat down next to you. you shuddered when her arm wrapped around you, even though you had been craving her affection since you started to distance yourself. "look at me, (y/n), please."

"i can't," you whispered. frido sighed as she pressed a kiss to the side of your forehead. "i can't do this. i have to talk to jona. i have to go back to wolfsburg or just somewhere else."

"don't run away from your feelings. just look at me, please," frido pleaded with you. she was on the verge of getting on her knees and begging you to look at her. you didn't know why, but something in her voice compelled you to go against your instincts.

your eyes met tearful blue ones, and you nearly broke because of it. frido gently caressed your cheek, rubbing her thumb along your cheekbone as she stared at you. there was no disgust or pity in frido's eyes, which caught you by surprise. all you could see was relief. your friendship didn't implode on the spot because of your admission, which filled you with a relief that you couldn't even begin to describe.

"i love you too," frido told you. she leaned forward and pressed her forehead against yours. her eyes flicked down to your lips before coming back up to meet your eyes again. "can i kiss you?"

frido barely managed to finish her sentence before you were lurching forward. she caught your body in her arms, allowing for you to practically lay on top of her as the two of your lips met in a passionate kiss. frido began to push you back a bit to catch her breath. you let out a whine as her lips moved off of yours.

"i've wanted this for so long that i don't ever want to stop," you said quietly. frido smiled as she pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "i thought you'd hate me if i told you how i felt. i had tried for so long to be cool and casual, but i couldn't. the more time we spent here without ingrid, the harder it became."

"i wish that you had told me how you felt, but i am not sure that i would have accepted it at first. i think we were both going through something, but that's over now. we have each other, and if you're willing to give me a chance, i'd like to see where this goes." frido's words made your heart swell a little with happiness. it was an odd feeling, finally having your feelings reciprocated. you didn't know what to do with yourself. you didn't know where things were going, but you hoped that they flowed as easily and naturally as your friendship with her had.

[erodasfishtacos]

Boredom & Blind Dates [pt I]

summary: yn is a good friend, who's willing to go on a blind date so that her friend can try to pull the man of her dreams. the new bigshot doctor at the hospital she's works. the dinner isnt as charming as she hoped

word count: 5k

warnings: angst

author's note: hii! this was based off a request. the rest will be posted on patreon and there’s already another part up :)

You can subscribe for $3 USD a month here

+

Victoria was a friend that YN had made in college when they were both studying completely opposite majors but happened to be roomed in the same two-bed dorm.

They clicked instantly and just like their majors, they were also exact opposite in their personalities too but it somehow just meshed perfectly together.

Victoria was a social butterfly who did not have a fear of being the center of attention, going after whoever she wanted (and typically pulling them), and her confidence was impressive.

Despite how smart Victoria was, she had a tendency to come off a bit ditzy, and has been called an air-head more than twice in YN’s presence.

The boys in more prestigious majors like law and medicine usually didn’t find her carefree attitude as appealing.

While Tori snagged the frat boys, YN steered clear of them which worked because they had never once had a crush on the same man.

After graduation, it only made sense to move in together because Seattle was a ridiculously overpriced city but their job wages were competitive.

Victoria was a nurse, she worked on a surgery recovery wing, and complained about her job constantly because of the crabby patients and long hours.

YN worked behind a desk all day, very rarely having to interact with anyone but if she did - it was all virtual from home.

She was the head accountant for a social media marketing company which was a pretty high position for the few years of experience she had.

YN had always been serious, more mature for her age, and always excelled above everyone else in her grade.

It hadn’t been a surprise when she was valedictorian or made summa cum laude in her undergraduate and masters degree with ease.

YN didn’t party, didn’t love socializing out in clubs but would go when Victoria pressured her enough to do so, and it was fine.

YN had been so involved in establishing her career, creating a successful life, and making a name for herself that she didn’t have time for the things Victoria did.

Dating app hookups, one night stands from the bar, and casual flings that only lasted a few weeks was how Tori rolled.

Typically, at least once a month, she was bawling to YN about the latest dickhead who treated her like she was disposable but kept going for the same type.

YN had empathy to an extent, always uncorked the wine and half-listened to her rants about chivalry being dead while she was still thinking about an account she needed to work on because the deadline was coming up.

YN liked to think she lived vicariously through Victoria’s stories which worked for her because then she didn’t have to experience those things herself.

+

YN had been sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on the wide arm as she scrolled through work emails while catching up on her guilty pleasure reality show.

It was nearly ten at night but she was waiting for a reply from a customer with a time difference, work could sometimes be a whole day and night ordeal.

There was no question that YN was uptight, rarely - if ever relaxed, and did not have much time for anything other than what put a hefty sum in her bank account every two weeks.

Victoria tumbled through the front door in a way that is uniquely her - like a hurricane.

Her keys jingling, her water bottle bumping and sloshing water as she drops her purse on the floor unceremoniously with a chapstick rolling out.

She tosses all of her items in a messy pile on the ground with her bag, kicking off her tennis shoes, and nearly prances into the living room.

YN blinks over at her, the excitement of her arrival was a routine now, she no longer gets annoyed that her best friend makes an entrance like that each time.

“Babe, guess what,” Victoria squeals as she sits down right next to her on the couch, still in her magenta colored scrubs and her mascara smudged near her eyes.

“What?” YN replies as she mindlessly clicks refresh in her email, wishing for this message with the information she needs to appear.

“Our new Chief of Medicine started today! He was the head of neurology at another hospital. A literal brain surgeon which, of course I’ve met others but he’s like…the best of the best. They write news articles about him, his studies in medical journals, he’s a big deal,” Victoria is still excited as she nearly bounces in her spot, shaking YN’s laptop.

YN puts a hand up to make sure her computer doesn’t topple, still nonplussed as she looks at her friend, “What does this have to do with you? Is it just because he’s famous in the medical world?”

“No, he’s fucking gorgeous too. I didn’t think you were allowed to be as smart as he is while looking like he just walked off a runway during Paris Fashion Week,” Tori giggles as her cheeks go a bit pink, “He’s the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen.”

“Tori,” YN sighs, clicking her refresh again - nothing, “Again, what is this information leading to?”

“Well I bumped into him today, literally, in the hallway. We spoke briefly, he was polite but serious, and I felt like he was flirting with me. I feel like I have a chance with him,” Her roommate tells her, that same confidence present as ever that she can pull this big shot doctor.

“Good luck with that. I’m sure he’s married with kids,” YN replies somewhat dismissively, unamused that this is how her friend spends her time.

“Nope,” Tori quips back happily, “I googled him. He just made the New York Times list as one of the most eligible bachelors in medicine. Single as they come.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date someone who also worked in medicine,” YN reminds her, clicking refresh once again to no results.

“He’s the exception. If I could settle down with a fuckin neurosurgeon, chief medical officer like come on that would be my biggest achievement,” Victoria pulls out her cell phone, tapping across the screen.

And YN just…cannot relate.

YN only fell in love once.

Where she could fantasize about a life with that person, marriage, kids, a house but it was all fantasy as they were never official in that way.

It was crushed and YN made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t let herself dream like that again.

“Do you want to see a picture?” Victoria asks as she looks for an image to show.

As a stroke of luck, YN’s work phone starts buzzing, and it’s the client she was waiting for to email her, “I’m sure he’s as attractive as you say, Tor. I have to take this.”

Her friend mumbles something about her being in a relationship with work which is honestly not that far off at this point.

However, it gives her an excuse to lock herself in her office for a few hours to avoid the ideas of love, Victoria’s fantasy world, and think about nothing but numbers and percentages.

+

The next few weeks blend together for YN.

Every few days she actually catches up on her work.

Every few days Victoria recounts her very purposefully crafted run-ins with the chief medical officer to shoot her shot.

Victoria has always been forward, asking bluntly for what she wants but with such a seemingly intimidating man, she finally has met her match.

Her roommate deems the doctor as ‘playing hard to get’ but YN starts to wonder if she’s imagining the spark between them or if it’s truly there.

She talks about times where the doctor flat out ignores her in the hallway but brushes it off that he was extremely busy on a pressing issue.

But then there are times where he will pull her aside, gently by the wrist and ask her about how her day was going, and appear to be interested in her answers.

YN loved her friend but was wildly uninterested in these events, the only thing that kept her curiosity lingering was if she was actually going to snag the head of the biggest hospital in Seattle.

She doesn’t hear much for a week or two.

At least three months have passed since the doctor started.

And this finally appears to be a payoff when Victoria comes home with her usual hurricane routine of leaving a trail of her belongings as she comes through the front door.

“Oh my god, oh my god. Close your laptop and look at me!” Victoria announces dramatically as she rushes over to the couch, taking it upon herself to close the lid of YN’s work computer.

“Tori,” YN scolds with a grumble, she really didn’t appreciate it when her friend interrupted her work flow in the middle of her meticulously constructing a report.

“Hush,” She replies, brushing off her concerns, and patting YN’s thighs, “I need the absolute biggest, most massive favor from you ever. And I really need you to agree, I’ll owe you for eternity.”

This didn’t sound good.

YN blinks at her, expression still unamused as ever.

“Okay. I am going on a date with the chief,” Victoria squeals, high-pitched and loud, “But it’s a double-date, he was telling me he’s looking for a date for his friend. I offered you and he invited us all to dinner at The National.”

Fancy.

And YN tries to settle the itching annoyance at her friend offering her up without her approval but unfortunately it was a very Victoria-like thing to do.

Despite how uptight YN could be, she had a soft spot for her friend and would do anything within her to make her happy so instead of lecturing her about setting her up, YN agrees.

YN thinks about it as the days pass until the date, what’s stopping her from actually giving this a try?

The only information she received about her blind date was that he was also a doctor, orthopedics, and his name was Mitch.

YN dresses nicer than she had originally planned, in a form fitting black dress that shaped her chest phenomenally, making her smaller tits look full and lifted.

It also defined her backside well too, making it rounded and voluminous in a way that it normally didn’t look in her regular outfits.

YN hadn’t been with anyone in over a year, not even a casual hookup because she didn’t do those - she did commitment.

Maybe Mitch would be the one.

YN wasn’t one for magical thinking like her best friend but maybe this is what optimism was supposed to be like as opposed to her normal pessimist outlook.

Victoria dressed stunning as well, albeit a bit more revealing which was her go to, cut-outs along her ribs and the hem was nearly to her bum cheeks so she couldn’t bend over without revealing all of her bits and pieces.

YN was sure that the doctor she was pining after would take her home with her that night but she also knows Victoria is possibly looking at this to become serious.

It was all up in the air.

The National was a quiet restaurant, where business meetings were held and deals were made.

Everyone dressed in expensive outfits that made YN and Victoria’s seem a bit out of place but they blended in well enough.

Neither have been to the location before because it was reservation-only and you had to have enough of a name in Seattle to bother calling.

The fact that the chief was able to get them a table, at relatively short notice was flex in itself, showing off what clout he held in the community.

YN wasn’t impressed, per se, felt like it was a bit-show off but nevertheless it was a nice experience that she’d never likely have again after this night.

Victoria gives the hostess their name before they’re being guided towards the back of the restaurant, it lit dimly enough that it would be hard to see the menu.

As they arrive at the table, there’s two meticulous dressed men sit across from one another, both handsome in different ways.

However, one has a big smile and stands up whilst the other stays seated with a scowl that seems permanently etched on his face - light wrinkles to show for it.

The man who stands up reaches for YN’s hand, kissing the back of it, and introducing himself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, darling. I’m Mitch.”

“YN,” She replies even though he already knows, allowing the kiss and giving him a polite smile back as he pulls out her chair for her.

Victoria walks around the table, somewhat awkward as her date doesn’t get up or offer to move her chair out, only a curt, “Hello, Victoria. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” Tori blushes easily, YN has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the interaction, she always fell for the rudest, douchey men on Earth.

This doctor was no different as he says back in his chair, shoulders broad, and back straight, head held high as he watches Mitch help YN in her seat.

“Thank you,” YN brushes her fingers against Mitch’s shoulder as he sits down, making eye contact with her date once again.

He had these sincere brown eyes, a shy smile, and his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail as he nods at her.

Mitch wasn’t her type, though she wasn’t picky, and was willing to give anyone a chance - he just wouldn’t be someone she would pick herself.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

“What’s good here?” YN asks Mitch as she opens her menu, it was a small list of entrees, most that YN had only seen on cooking shows or never even heard of.

“I haven’t been here. Styles here is a regular but that’s because he’s the big name ‘round here, well according to London Times - everywhere,” Mitch teases as he glances up at his friend.

Styles doesn’t even lift his lip in a half-smile, his eyes dart to YN before his friend, “The Steelhead Trout is good as is the Filet Migon.”

YN’s eyes trace back over the menu, heart seizing a bit as the numbers next to the entree - realizing that was the price was a bit of shell shock.

She knew that Mitch would pay for her but she felt guilty about ordering something that was well over a hundred and fifty dollars when she would never pay that for dinner herself.

“I think I’ll just get the thai salmon,” YN replies as she glances over, it was the cheapest option, not by much but still.

“There’s peanuts in the sauce,” The doctor tells her as he glances up from his own menu to look at YN.

YN brow furrows at him, lips turning down, and about to say something when he adds, “Victoria informed me that you have a severe peanut allergy and to choose a restaurant that could prepare your food properly.”

YN blinks to process before looking over to Victoria, “Thanks, Tor.”

“I’d rather not see freshman year thanksgiving happen again,” Victoria jokes but there is some real concern there from such a traumatic incident.

YN had accidentally come into contact with some type of nut that sent her into an anaphylactic shock.

They couldn’t find her epipen for a good two minutes until they did and were able to administer her medication until she could make it to the hospital.

Victoria had anxiety about food in their house for ages, paranoid about her own contact with the allergen, and always made sure everyone was aware of YN’s condition.

“I’ll get the filet then,” YN sighs, giving up on picking a cheap option as she closes her menu, and the waiter pours a red wine into her glass.

YN was not in the mood to drink, preferring to sip on her water instead as Victoria and Mitch emptied their first glass quickly.

Victoria’s date sipped more sophisticatedly on his, swirling it like a proper snob before taking a minuscule sip as if he was savoring it.

Mitch seemed very interested in YN, asking multiple questions about her work and personal life, he put an arm around the back of her chair which YN didn’t necessarily mind as they spoke.

From what YN could see, Victoria was not having as much luck with her date as their conversation appeared strained, her friend was doing ninety percent of the talking, and Harry was nodding with an expression of boredom.

After the soup and salads arrive, Mitch and Harry start to chat about something going on with the hospital protocols.

Victoria tries to add in, he doesn’t acknowledge her but Mitch does instead after an uncomfortable pause of silence between them.

YN stays quiet, unable to add anything, and after a moment, Mitch huffs out a laugh, “Enough work talk, we’re excluding YN.”

Harry raises his eyebrow at her, “Need to be the center of attention?”

“Hey,” Mitch frowns, rubbing at YN’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m sorry if I just-“

“You’re fine,” YN waves her hand dismissively, giving her friend’s date a displeased glance that Harry returns the scowl just like he’d been doing all night.

Victoria is oblivious, as she tends to be, and is much too focused on keeping her date’s attention to worry about anything else.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks her, randomly cutting off a story that Victoria was telling about a patient that eloped recently.

“I’m a head accountant for a social media marketing company. What about you?” YN returns the question with sickeningly sweet politeness.

She felt like Harry was a pompous prick, taking pride in his rankings, education, and had a better than attitude that YN really felt was unappealing.

To act like she didn’t know shit about him was the perfect way to irritate him apparently.

It works.

The way his teeth clench together as the wrinkle between his brow deepens further, he straightens his suit jacket before leaning forward to appear casual.

“I’m the Chief Medical Officer of The Hospital of Seattle, a neurosurgeon specializing in spinal cord injury as well as stroke and trauma, I own three outpatient medical practices, as well as instruct other neurosurgeons on new techniques and equipment,” Harry boasts, to be fair, it was extremely impressive.

There was no doubt that the man sitting across from her was extremely intelligent, she’s probably never been around anyone as smart as him but it didn’t excuse his attitude.

You can be intelligent and humble at the same time.

Apparently Doctor Styles did not get the memo.

“That’s nice,” YN replies as she takes a very small sip of wine, even though she was impressed, it didn’t reflect in her bored tone.

Harry scoffs, sitting back, and licking the front of his teeth.

His eyebrow was raised as he repeated in disbelief, “That’s nice? Nothing else, huh?”

Victoria’s eyes dart nervously between the two, she grips Harry’s bicep, “I think it’s the most impressive thing I’ve heard. Not to mention the medical journals you wrote for or the volunteer work.”

YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, tampering down a smile at getting a reaction out of her friend’s date, just as she had hoped.

“S’really not as impressive when the person needs to flaunt their accomplishments so extravagantly,” YN shrugs as she puts down her wine glass, nonchalant as ever, and acting as if she was being casual.

Tori delivers a kick to her shin underneath the table, along with a scolding look for her to drop the attitude with Harry because it was ruining their date.

YN pulls back because she did feel guilty at getting into it with this doctor who Tori was trying to pull and she wasn’t increasing the chances with the snide comments.

Harry is about to respond, his ringed fingers clenched on the table, and there were tattoos peeking out from the cuffs of his suit that were very undoctorlike, “You know what I think-?”

“Uhm,” Mitch coughs awkwardly to break up the tension that was getting thick and cloying between everyone at the table, “Victoria, where did you get your nursing degree from?”

The conversation breaks off, Victoria and Mitch start chatting as YN and Harry remain pretty much silent throughout the appetizers.

Victoria is forward, trying to touch her date when possible.

A brush of his hand here, a squeeze of his bulky bicep there.

Though Harry doesn’t shrug her off, he also doesn’t return the favor at all.

He is nearly statuesque, unmoving, and able to sit very still for long amounts of time.

Of course, maybe that is overly obvious because of how all over the place her friend was at all times, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes without needing to adjust the way she’s sitting or fiddle with something on the table.

YN wonders if this whole thing was set up for Mitch and Harry just settled for being on a date with Victoria to help his friend out.

The thought hurt her to think about because she wanted better for her friend.

YN enjoyed having a job that paid her well, more than most people her age were making but it didn’t define who she was.

Doctor Styles seemed to be his entire job as his personality.

How boring.

When Harry manages to get the topic back onto a work issue, YN cannot help but let out a yawn that she very half-heartedly tries to cover with her hand because she could only hear so much about a spinal surgery before she’s zoning out.

Victoria is hanging onto his every word, asking questions, and being overly interested in a lackluster story in his monotone, deep voice that could honestly lull her to sleep because of how bleak and morbid he sounded.

However, when she yawns, no one at the table notices but Harry.

His eyes have darted over to her a few times while he’s been talking, almost to gauge her level of interest, and when she yawns, he visibly huffs before continuing - his words a bit more harsh and a flutter of annoyance twisting into his cadence.

YN had neglected her date during this whole time, in full honesty.

Victoria and Mitch seemed to have a great conversation.

When YN talked to Mitch, he was nice enough and easy to have a conversation with but his boss across the table was distracting and apparently felt the need to constantly be the center of attention even though that’s what he called YN out for. 

It’s rude, YN knows it is when she excuses herself to the bathroom mid-story, placing her napkin on the table before swinging her purse over her shoulder, and navigating into the dimly-lit restaurant towards the back.

YN goes into one of the many stalls, a larger bathroom, and sits down.

She didn’t have to go to the bathroom but she had just needed a break because…

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck?

YN would be crawling out the bathroom window if Victoria wasn’t with her.

YN hears the door open and she just knows it’s Victoria.

She is definitely going to give YN a piece of her mind for her attitude at the table and she really can’t blame her because she was not being on her best behavior admittedly.

When YN pushes open the stall, already starting her speech, “Tor, I know you’re probably pissed but -”

However, YN stops mid-setence when she sees that it was not Victoria standing across from her.

No, instead it was Harry, leaning back against the sinks with his arms crossed and a scowl worse than anything that he had displayed at the table across his face.

“Already dating again?” He asks unhappily, the slight crack of his deep drawl gives away the jealously laying behind those words, “That’s pretty fuckin’ rich, innit?”

“Don’t you dare,” YN hisses back, defensive and straightening up, “You don’t have any room to talk.”

“I have plenty,” Harry grits out, his gaze unwavering, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out, “You fucked everything up, not me.”

The awful thing is that YN wants him too.

“That’s not true,” YN murmurs softer, trying to keep the feisty edge in her voice but struggling.

The emotions that she was attempting to hold in at the table were much harder to bottle up when they were standing face-to-face like this.

“You like Mitch?” Harry ignores her rebuttal, his knuckles were white where they were gripping the kitchen sink, “Think he’s nice? Boyfriend material?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” YN snaps back, finding her bravado a bit more.

“Come here,” Harry orders, voice quiet but sharp, demanding, and it sends a chill down her spine.

“Harry-” YN begins to argue but finds herself walking forward, her heart pounding hard enough that it hurts and her hands were shaking as she clung the strap of her purse as a lifeline as her heels clicked against the tile.

“C’mon, dove,” His voice is sweeter, more goading until she’s close enough to touch.

Her lips parted in nerves, excitement, dread.

His hand reaches out to curl around the nape of her neck, fingers lightly pressing into the sides of her throat and though it was gentle, it was possessive - rooted in the jealousy of what was going on tonight with their dates.

Harry brings her towards him by the hold he has on her, until her hands are laid on his chest, and he’s leaning down as he tilts her head up.

He brushes their lips together, once, twice, and on the third time, YN pulls back and takes a few steps away from him.

“You can’t just do that,” YN huffs, grabbing a tissue from the counter and dabbing at the corners of her eyes to prevent the tears from falling and ruining her makeup, “I’m on a date. You’re on a date. It isn’t fair to either of them.”

Harry laughs unhappily, shaking his head as pushes away from the sink, heading towards the door but before he leaves, he bites back, “I don’t think you have room to be talking about fair. You obviously don’t fuckin’ understand the concept of it. Pull yourself together before you come back out.”

YN knows it immature, proves his point but gives him the middle finger before going back to dabbing at her eyes - fuck, she wishes she didn’t cry around him.

She wondered if it was worth sneaking out the window and facing the wrath of her friend later.

+

ahhhhhhh.

let me know your thoughts. this was difficult to write but im glad it turned out how i wanted it too! what do you predict?

😙😙😙

[swordsandholly]

def need more ditzy reader with mechanic 141- the only thing that tops my love for military men is blue collar boys <333

make sure to take care of yourself tho lovie!! don’t burn urself out :))

I for sure want to write more of her. Hopefully after this insane week at work I’ll be able to really sit down and crank out some writing. For now I’m battling my way through Ch 3 of Across the Way

But pls enjoy this little not proofread experimental snippet I wrote for ditzy reader

“Look.” Your landlord sighs loudly. Like you’re the one inconveniencing him. “I’ll send someone out.”

“That’s what you said two days ago! And three days before that!” You stomp your foot at no one just to get some of the anger out.

“I’ll get to it when I get to it.”

“Why can’t you-“ The line cuts before you can finish. The jerk hung up on you! What the hell!

You pout, plopping down into your desk chair and sighing. What are you supposed to do? You’re not allowed to call a handyman according to the lease and you don’t have a boyfriend right now. You can’t keep washing pans in the bathroom. It’s gross.

You huff.

“Alright?” Simon asks and you whirl in your chair. How does he walk so quietly?

“Yeah…” You pout harder under his steady gaze, slipping down further into the chair.

“You’re a terrible liar, luv.” His eyes crinkle in corners with a smile.

“Well…” You shrug, twiddling your thumbs in your lap. “My kitchen sink has been broken for a whole week and the landlord won’t do anything about it! I called and called and he just keeps saying he’ll send someone and then doesn’t!” Your voice pitches at the end, real annoyance bleeding through into the edges of your words. You fist your hands in your skirt.

“That’s all?” He raises an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just ask one of us?”

You blink twice, staring up at him. Your face heats and you look away bashfully - not wanting to admit you didn’t think to ask for their help. Stupid. “I don’t want to be a bother…”

“I’ll come by after work.”

“You don’t have to-“

“I’ll be there.” He nods before marching back into the garage. You just blink after him as he goes.

True to his word, Simon shows up at your door with a massive tool box in hand. Really, he still can’t believe you live in such a shit complex. Price pays you well enough. The locks might as well be paper-mache. Simon lowers his mask before knocking. He trusts you with his face - hell you probably forget it every time you look away - but he also wants you to trust him too. For whatever reason.

You��re staring when you open the door. Big doe eyes looking up at him and blinking slowly. He wonders what goes on behind those blank eyes of yours - if it’s nothing at all or such a chaotic dialogue that you can’t process it enough to pay attention.

All or nothing.

“Gonna let me in, doll?” He asks. You startle, not realizing how intensely you zoned out.

“Oh! Yes!” You jump out of the way, letting him into your small studio apartment. Every time he thinks your shorts can’t get smaller he’s proven wrong.

Simon takes a look around, huffing at the net full of stuffies hanging on the wall. Everything about your home is soft - soft colors, soft fabrics. It smells like vanilla, just like you always do when you come into the shop. His eyes lock briefly on a well-loved sewing machine covered in stickers with a project still under the needle. You must have been working on it before he got here.

Did you mean to leave your bra hanging on the back of that chair right by the kitchen? Lacy and lilac. He’ll have to remember that for some other time. Maybe your birthday.

“Let’s ‘ave a look.” He sighs, knees popping as he crouches in front of the sink. It’s a fucking mess, that’s for sure. At least you figured out how to turn the water off.

“Pipe’s busted.” He says. “I can seal it but it’ll take a sec.”

“Okay.” You murmur.

Simon sighs as he turns onto his back to get a better look. He doesn’t miss the way you stare blatantly at his midsection as his shirt rides up. He might adjust some to expose just a bit more.

You really are the least subtle thing in the planet, aren’t you?

“Can you come hold the light f’me, luv?” He points to the toolbox.

“This one?” You ask, as if it isn’t the only flashlight in the box.

“Yeah.”

“Like this?”

“Yup.” At first he expects you to sit silently so he can concentrate, but he quickly realizes that was far too presumptuous.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Si?” You ask quietly.

He huffs. “No.”

“Oh.” You chew your lip. “You seem like the kind of guy that would.”

Simon has never heard a bigger misread in his damn life but he’ll take it as a compliment, he supposes. “Why do you ask?”

“Cause this is boyfriend work and you’re good at it.”

Simon tries to see your logic - he really does - but he just has no clue how those things are even remotely related. Sure, guys fix things for their girlfriends but calling it ‘boyfriend work’ when anybody with two cents could do it is a bit silly. More than, if he’s honest. He just grunts in response, at a total loss for how to respond.

Simon looks down at you. The way you kneel as your cleaving spills out of your tiny tank top - one of many you insist on wearing so often. He can give into temptation just a little bit, right? “Gonna need you to get closer, doll.”

“Oh!” You scoot forward until your knees brush his side. So ready to listen. Cute.

“Can you lean in a bit?”

“Like this?” You lean forward, chest pressing against him while your hand splays over his midsection for balance. Fucking hell.

“Perfect. Good girl.”

It’s bold and a bit uncoordinated even for him. Something Johnny would try. The purposeful choice of words seems to go right over your head. Instead you blush and smile, shifting your hips just a bit. Your chest pushes further into him. So soft.

Fuck.

You’ll be the death of him. Thank god you’re too unobservant to notice that he’s rock fucking hard.

He’s already done with the sink by the time of this little exchange, but he pretends to tighten some useless bolts anyway just to keep you against him a little longer before shooing you away. It’s cute, the way you scramble to get out of the way. Simon turns the water back on before standing, and gesturing toward the sink.

“Give it a try, luv.”

A little furrow forms in your brow as you step forward to turn it on, crouching and standing to make sure the leak has stopped. You turn the faucet off and whip your head around with a grin.

He’s pretty sure you burst an eardrum with the pitch of the squeal you let out, bouncing over and tightly wrapping your arms around his waist. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“It’s no pro-“ he cuts off as you push up onto your tip toes and press a kiss to his cheek. He can’t help but bark out a laugh. Little minx.

“Oh, I got some lipstick-“ You reach up to smudge it off but he bats your hand away. He’ll wear it back to the garage and show off the kiss he got. Johnny’s going to absolutely fume.

[dalliancekay]

We've been talking for millions of years

Aziraphale was clearly taken by Angel!Crowley from the moment he met him. I think the 6000 years could be read as when the whole human breeding thing starts. Even God says there's been many nice days in the Garden. How many? The count didn't start until the day they left Eden I think. When we meet Aziraphale and Angel!Crowley in Before the Beginning, Earth was still an idea in the works. And the War didn't happen. Or Crowley surely would have been more cautious. So I hope they have met and talked and Crowley grumbled about how unfair it all was.

And Aziraphale tried to placate him that it will all work out somehow, there’s a Plan. And they kept meeting, Crowley showing Aziraphale the prettiest corners of the universe, Aziraphale telling Crowley exciting developments re: Earth.

I wouldn’t try to guess at how far their relationship has gone… maybe relationships of the kind we know now weren’t invented yet and still, these two loved each other without knowing anything about it. After all, no other angels seem to have ANY relationships of any kind. Apart from higher or lower levels of condescension towards each other.

Then the Great War came and tore them apart. After knowing each other for millions of years and their close more-than-friendship, their world falls apart. After all, Crowley tried to do the right thing. And Aziraphale did too but it wasn’t to be. Yet. But. Their story wasn’t finished yet.

Aziraphale is relieved when he’s sent down to Earth to guard the brand new humans from the demons he has heard that the damned angels have been turned into. He’s a bit fearful about the whole thing but glad to be away and keen, if a bit anxious to see the project he’s discussed/worked on for so long.

Crowley hates Hell. He hates it cos it’s not what he wanted or what he thought he was joining. He has been lied to. He’s not regretting his decision to turn his back on Heaven, no. He still thinks they’ve made too many crappy decisions. But he despises what the Rebellion became.

When Beelzebub asks for a volunteer to go up to the new planet and tempt the fresh innocent human couple into joining them, he volunteers, even if only to escape the claustrophobic walls and the mess nobody ever clears up.

Tempting comes easy to him. He imagines talking to his lost friend. ‘But why wouldn’t you try fruit from this one tree. What’s the problem with knowing things anyway? Wouldn’t you want to decide by yourself Eve? And Eve does make a decision.

Crowley’s worried now. Not for himself. He’s without hope but did he hurt humans by doing this. He didn’t mean to. He doesn’t really want them to go to Hell. Or Heaven for that matter. He only thinks they should be free to make their own choices. If only he had someone to talk to.

He spotted a distant angel earlier. Reminded him of, of… the light hair...anyway. They held a flaming sword but surely he can dodge that if needs be. He could just try for a simple chat. He has no idea how demons are talked about in Heaven. But he guesses the angel might just try to smite him. Worth the risk. Everything feels so raw and strange here. Maybe stealing a bit of familiarity will help him settle his nerves.

He decides to slither over and ask how the angel feels about what’s been done. Will they be furious. Hurt? Guilty? Oh. It’s him. It’s too late now. Always too late. It’s him. Aziraphale. Aziraphale. It is HIS angel. What is he going to do. FUCK! Well. No better way to find out. He could just tease him like the old times. What's the worst that can happen.

Shitfuck but he smells good. These new senses will take a while to get used to: “Well that went down like a lead balloon.” A lead balloon? Whatthefuck even is that. Oh for Someone's sake.

Aziraphale’s standing on top of the Garden wall, squeezing his fingers with worry - what exactly has happened. What has possessed him to give away his sword. Did he disappoint God? Heaven? It doesn’t FEEL wrong to help them. If only he had someone to talk to.

Another angel? What. A snake? Oh. Oh. They are changing. Could it be? His heart will surely explode into million pieces…!!!! A lead balloon?!? “Sorry what was that?” Does he remember me? I think he does. I think he does. He’s here. As lovely as always.

I’ll keep him safe. Safe. I will keep him safe this time.

[hazbinsimp777]

Hi!!! Hope it’s ok to request Vox and Lucifer with a fem s/o who’s very affectionate please. Giving random little kisses, listening to his problems, and all these romantic gestures. Sorry she just has so much love to give >_<

A:N: I am EATING this concept up! Thanks for the request anon! <3

May I present...

~Affection is Key~

Featuring Vox and Lucifer

✅️Fluff ✅️Wholesome ✅️Adorable

A/N: Reader is female, a sinner and married in both Headcanons

~LUCIFER~

~ This man is SOAKING in all of the attention and affection you give him, he is the type that is a hopeless romantic. You are one of the only people that can actually make his day, besides Charlie of course

~ A refresher from his previous marriage

~ He loves how many gifts you have given him throughout your relationship, he even has a whole shrine of pictures of you and your gifts inside his closet. Something you absolutely do not know about and he had went through great lengths for that.

~ Even all the little homemade gifts you make him, a lil paper flower, a origami of a duck! HE LOVES IT ALL.

~ Whenever you two are in public, he adores how clingy you are towards him. Being the prideful shit he is, he holds his head up high and puffing his chest when you hugging his arm. ESPICALLY when you give him lil kisses on his forehead.

~ Even when he is meeting with the sins, he INSISTS that you must be brought along with him. During the meetings, he loves when you occasionally give him little kisses when the attention his not on him. His face is lightly blushing.

Lucifer : Ah Asmodeous! Yeah, this is my wife!

~ He literally brags about you to the other sins, but, they do think it is absolutely adorable.

~ You are his own personal-unpaid therapist. Always listening to his problems, giving advice at times and giving him reassurance to whatever he is ranting about. He even loves laying his head on your lap, with your fingers running through his hair when he is talking.

~ One thing that he loves it your cooking, at your time alive you had done your fair share of cooking and baking. Whenever you can, you would give your husband the best meals throughout the day.

~ Duck shaped pancakes, burgers, steaks and duck shaped cupcakes just to name a few! He is always so thankful for all the food you cook for him. Like you have always said, "The way to a man's heart is his stomach."

~ At random times of the day, no matter in private nor public, if something was out of place. His hair, clothes or hat, if it is out of place you are fixing it.

~ For example, he goes FERAL whenever you are fixing his bowtie, fixing a strand of his hair, adjusting his hat or wiping down a bit of dust on his clothes.

Lucifer: Have my children now.

Y/n: Okay sure

~VOX~

~ This was one thing Vox always had loved about you, how loving you are towards him and everything you do just because you love him. Honestly, it is a refresher in Hell, something rare to come across.

~ At times it does keep him up at night, why are you with him? How did you even get down here? At first it was VERY confused, so you don't only want sex or money from him? You want to be loving towards him? And LOYAL???

~ As long as you are with him, he isn't complaining.

~ For example, when he is going on camera on his television show, if there is anything out of place, it is a guarantee you will fix it. All you need to do is whisper, "You are going to be great Darling!" and blow a little kiss and all of the power is going to be out.

~ Another thing, he can bitch about Alastor as much as he wants to around you! While you are doing whatever you are doing, Vox can talk about anything you will be listening. You even give him very good advice and reassure him about anything. He only falls deeper in love with you after the first time you did that.

~ During his working days, you always check up on him and drop off any food you had made. Knowing Vox, he is a workaholic, so whenever you simply drop off food, water or check on him, it means the world to him. It shows how much you love him.

~ Speaking of food, he is IN LOVE with your cooking. As a man from the 1950s, even though he is not sexist and knows women are powerful. Doesn't mean he doesn't want to feel like a man in the relationship. So you taking care of him while he is working hard, means everything to him.

~ When he is around you, you make sure to give him as many hugs and innocent kisses as you possibly can. As an attention whore, he is taking and ADORING all of the random kisses and hugs you give him throughout the day.

~ Which is why he just HAD to wife you up immediately.

~ And because it will be easier to spy on your if you two are married.

~ That is why he spoils you rotten. At this point he is both your husband and sugar daddy in one. He can't help it! As affectionate and adorable you are, of course he wants to take really good care of you. Both the bedroom and overall.

~ Though you do not ask for much at all, he still insists he gets you the nicest clothes, shoes, jewelry, undergarments, perfumes, technology, stuffed animals and anything else you desire.

Vox: Honey! Look what I bought for you!

Y/n: *GASP* PLUSHIES! *runs over and jumps in the mountain of stuffed animals*

A/N: I hope this was good! I hope you liked it anon!

[yesihaveaobsession]

The Facility Manager

Alastor x female!maid reader

Summary: Alastor uses his title of the hotel's facility manager as an advantage to be with the new pretty maid. You.

Warnings: Al is VERY flirty, actually.. I Mena (how can you not when you're wearing a hit maids dress am I right?)

A/N- hope y'all enjoy :)

You were hired as the new maid for the Hazbin Hotel. You were quite excited because you believed in the cause and you loved to clean and organize. It was your first day on the job, and the Princess had a simple task for you: dusting. You were dusting something from below, so you had to bend down slightly. That's when you heard a voice that sounded staticky.

“Charming, I haven’t seen you around here before!” The voice struck you out of your thinking space. To your surprise, you turned your attention to the voice—it was a rather tall and slightly handsome deer man who was right at your face. You didn't know how to respond before he did.

“Pleasure to meet you, Dear, just a pleasure! I’m Alastor, the radio demon! You must be the new maid, hmm?” You stood up from your somewhat bent position and brushed off your maid's dress that was black but had red accents. "Yes, yes, I am," you replied, taking a small step back to give the two of you some space. The deer man only smiled.

He hovered over you, then he bent down at the waist as his finger rested under your chin. "You're quite adorable," he complimented you. You weren't sure if your blush had shown, but all in all, Princess Charlie regretted to tell you that the Radio Demon was one at the hotel and two the Facility Manager in the first place, so your interaction between the two of you was just you being shocked.

"Um, thank you?" you replied, and the smile that he seemed to be wearing this whole interaction only got bigger. Then he said, "You'll be working for me, I'll be keeping a close eye on you." Confused, you told him, "Well, the princess said I'll be working for everyone, technically."

"In a way, yes," Alastor hissed as he drew a finger down your exposed chest due to the uniform that was given to you. You definitely blushed, and he most definitely noticed. Angel Dust, the fellow pink spider, had told you about his nickname for the demon: tall, dark, and creepy. And in this scenario, you would agree, but you had a feeling that he was flirting with you. Was he?

"I... um should get back to work..." you said, picking up your duster. But he didn't seem to get the hint. "Oh, don't be so silly! You can take a small break..." Before you could respond, he leaned in close again to your face, and you only just looked up at him as a response. "Take a break." Your heart started to pound in your chest all of a sudden due to the close proximity.

Most certainly didn't help when he ever so slightly moved closer to where you could feel his breath on your lips. "Mr. Alastor, I—" you began, but certainly was shut down. He covered your mouth with his claw with another wide grin.

"Oh, but it's only just getting fun." What did he mean by that?

"I need to get back to work," you pushed once more, but of course, the man LOVED to invade everyone's personal space, so he pushed back. He knew he was making you flustered, so he only kept it going by placing his other hand on your shoulder.

"I said, you're taking a short break," Alastor said with hooded eyes almost and a closed-lipped smile. You had to get away from the conversation and wanted to veer away from it. "Could you show me to where I'll be staying?" you asked. His eyes got wider with a head tilt, the Radio Demon said, "Of course," he purred while placing a claw on your lower back and leading you towards a door, his eyes closed and head up before the two of you stopped in front of the door.

Alastor holds the door open for you to your room. You walked in. "Now, my room is right next to yours, so it won't be an issue if you ever need me, dear."

"Great... thanks," you said. Of course, he put your room right next to yours; the two of you share walls, just what you had ever wanted. Placing your bag on the bed, feeling Alastor press against your back, "You're welcome," he whispered with a smirk. You paused.

"Now, I'll be keeping a close eye on you, so be sure to behave," you gulped, and Alastor took a step back as you just looked at him. He laughed and patted your head. "So serious."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight. my dear" Alastor placed a hand on your hip and whispered again. Your heart pounded in your chest. Alastor then shut the door softly, leaving you just standing there, rethinking what just happened. Then you decided to finish getting settled in and then going to bed. An hour or two later, there was a soft knock on your door. Groaning, you got up and were in your PJs, opening the door. He stood there, looking down at you. "...Can I come inside for a moment?"

"I um, suppose." He nodded and walked into your room as he looked at the progress you made of settling in before looking back at you.

"Now, you must be tired, no?"

"I am."

"Alright then... let me make you... 'a bit more comfortable. "He steps closer, and what did he mean by that? Your heart sank. Truly. "Actually, I'm okay..." You didn't care if he heard the terror in your voice; there was no way that you were going to get down to the supposed Facility Manager on your first day.

"Oh? You're turning down my kindness?" He said as he took a small step forward. "I'm comfortable but thank you."

"Hm... are you sure?" His neck cranked to the side, and he was now dangerously getting close to you. Only inches now stood between you two. Your back had hit the bed, and you were laying on top of the covers.

"You... sure you're comfortable?" He was still staring down at you.

"Yes, thank you." You said, and he leaned down again, a few millimeters away from your lips, he had that small closed-lipped smile again. He reached for the blanket to put over you.

"Goodnight, again." A sinister grin spread across his face. "...Sleep well, my darling."

You went to sleep and was ready for your second day of being the Hazbin Hotels maid.

HERE'S THE PICTURE OF THE DRESS I DESIGNED :D

[oracle-of-dream]

Stuck

Minors DNI

(Not Proofread)

Summary: After a prank, you end up stuck in an elevator with your boyfriend whose problem is getting worse by the minute.

Warnings: Male reader, Degreading, Rouch Sex, Lots of Cum, Sex Drugs (Consensual), Blowjob, Swallowing Cum, Multiple Orgasms, Semi-Public Sex, Creampie, Dom!Myungho,

Wordcount: 2.4k

While scrolling through TikTok, you landed on a page of a couple that both took sexual enhancement drugs and tried to make it a full day without touching each other. The loser got some sort of punishment, but only after mindblowing sex.

You looked over at your boyfriend, Myungho, who was innocently watching TV. Would he be able to hold out? You leaned onto his shoulder and he patted your head to acknowledge your presence. You kissed his neck, "Hey babe, would you wanna try a fun trend?"

Myungho didn't look at you as he said, "If this is the orange trend from last week, I already told you I'd peel however many oranges you want."

"It's a new thing! Just hear me out before you say no."

Your boyfriend looked away from the TV with concern on his face. "Why would you think I'd say no?"

You gave him the best puppy eyes you could. "Please just promise you'll hear me till the end," You begged.

"Okay, I promise," He chuckled. Myungho turned to face you and muted his show, giving his undivided attention.

"So the trend is for us to take a sex drug and we try not to have sex. The loser gets a punishment from the winner."

Your boyfriend frowned slightly. "Are you sure that's the trend? That sounds like a waste of money."

You groaned, "Please! This would be so fun, and we can fuck it all out when it's finished."

"We could just fuck now, it's not like I don't want to have sex. Plus, this wouldn't really be a competition. You're way hornier than I am, you'd cave before the medicine kicked in." Myungho smirked at your expression as he teased you.

"That's so not true! I could totally outlast you!" You pushed him, "I bet that you'll cave first. If you do, you have to buy me a meal every day for the month."

Myungho raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you sure you want to do this? If you lose, I want the same thing. And I've been eating a lot lately."

You laughed cockily. "I know I can beat you without trying."

"I'll go out, and buy the meds right now, and we can start today." Myungho left shortly after to go buy the medicine. While you were confident in your ability to hold back, you already had a plan to make sure you'd win... You poured two glasses of water and mixed a powered sex drug into one of the two cups. When Myungho came back, you were ready with the water.

"I've got the water for the pill. Let's do this already!" You were smiling like the devil, and your boyfriend was none the wiser. He gave you one pill, and you gave him the cup of water you specially prepared for him. "On three, and you have to swallow it," You added.

Myungho nodded. "Don't try and cheat to win. If you do, I'll break you later," He said as he winked before swallowing the pill and the whole glass of water.

These words made your whole body shudder, but it was too late to back out now... You swallowed your pill and drank some water. Waiting for it to kick the boring part. You sat on the couch, watching your phone while Myungho went back to his show. It wasn't immediate, but you felt your body get warmer. You peeked over at Myungho, who looked fine. You could see his muscles from the opening in his sleeveless shirt. He'd been going to the gym a lot lately, and it was really paying off. He looked good.

You mentally slapped yourself, pulling yourself out of it. That's just the drugs talking. If you were feeling fucked up, then Myungho had to be the same, right?

You peered at him. "Feeling anything?"

"Nope," He said flatly. "I told you this was a waste of money."

"Just give it time!"

He shook his head. "I did. Nothing's happening, and we've got somewhere to go tonight. So let's forget the game and just get ready."

You pouted to yourself as Myungho got up to go get dressed. The two of you were invited to a party, and you've been begging Myungho to go with you. So you couldn't pass it up now.

The two of you started getting ready, taking your time to do so. Even though he said to forget the game, you couldn't let it go. Every chance you could, you would accidentally tease him. Bending down in front of him, showing your ass. Making him button your shirt. Even forcing him to help you put on your pants. But still nothing...

"Y/n. Are you trying something?" He asked as he pulled your pants over your butt.

"No? What could I be trying?"

Myungho held your chin and lifted it to make you look at him. "Are you trying to seduce me?" Fuck. You were instantly hard. Myungho teased you, pulling you close to him so he could help you with your belt, making you press against his hard body. He moved and shifted, grinding your cock against him. You moaned into his shoulder. "Kitty?"

Fuck! Even calling you that name was enough to get you going. He only called you that when he really wanted your attention. "Y-Yes?"

"Are you being naughty? Do you need me to take care of you?"

You caught yourself about to say yes, but the smile on his face stopped you. "Babe! You're doing this on purpose!" You hit him, pushing him away from you as he chuckled.

"Weren't you doing the same not too long ago?"

"So!? You don't even look like you're bothered by it."

"Of course, I'm not. There's no way some silly drugs is gonna mess with me, but clearly, it's got you." Your boyfriend palmed you over your pants, making you melt into his embrace. "Just say you lose, then I can help you."

"You said the game was stupid..."

"Doesn't mean I don't like winning, right?"

You pushed him away from you again. "I'm not gonna lose! Just go get ready!"

Myungho raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to go to a party like this? You might bump into someone and cum," He said as he tried to hold in a laugh.

"I'm fine!" You stormed into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

"No jerking off either!" He yelled from the other side of the door. "I'll know if you cum."

"S-Shut up!" You buried your face in your hands... There's no way you'd make it through the night. Much less the whole party. But you weren't going to drop out yet.

After calming down, you left the bathroom. Myungho was waiting for you in the living room. "Didn't cum on your own, did you?"

"No. Let's go." You pouted as you walked out the door.

Your boyfriend chased after you, catching up when you were waiting for the elevator. "Don't be like that, you suggested this game."

"Like what?" You pouted.

"Like a brat."

The door opened and you entered it with him.

"I'm not a brat. And I'm not mad."

Myungho leaned on the rail. "Then give me a kiss, show me you're not." You pecked him on the lips. "No. I want a kiss," He demanded.

You sighed before giving a real kiss, your lips meeting his gently. You went to pull away but his hands held you in place. One on your neck and one on your back. He continued the kiss as he bit at your lips–begging for more.

"Hey–" You pulled away before he pulled you back in. He devoured you with a hunger you'd never felt before. You danced around the elevator until you hit a wall, making the elevator shake to a halt. "What the fuck?" You pressed a button, but the elevator wouldn't respond. The symbol said you were on the 8th floor, two floors from your apartment. "Are we stuck?"

"Maybe you bumped into the emergency stop?"

"I didn't–you were attacking me and I backed up!"

"I'm not trying to say it's your fault," Myungho patted your head. "We're probably stuck in here until someone can turn it back on."

You sighed, thinking about the party. "Can we call for help?"

"No signal for me," Myungho showed you his phone. Your phone also had no signal...

"No signal, no way out... We're stuck! This really can't get worse..."

Myungho cleared his throat. "Well, I don't think this is a bad thing."

"How is this not a bad thing?"

"We have each other..." Myungho hugged you from behind, pulling you close to him. You could feel his cock, hard, rubbing against you. You pushed back against it, grinding softly as your own dick started to wake up from the action. "We're stuck in this small elevator, for who knows who long... We should try and make the best of it, right?"

"Yes," You moaned as your boyfriend kissed your neck.

Myungho's hips sharply hit against you, each mini-thrust knocking your breath away. "You want it, baby? You wanna take me in this elevator?" You nodded slowly as your body squirmed under his touch. "I'll have to cum in you so we don't make a mess, is that okay?"

You nod again. "Please, hurry up."

"Say what you want."

"I want you to fuck me, please, do it already..." You moaned as he slid your belt off and pulled your pants down. Your cock jumped out, twitching in the cold air.

"You're so cute. How can I resist you?" Myungho bit on your ears, before spitting in his hand. You could hear him wetting his cock, rubbing the excess on your hole. "I can't wait anymore..."

"Me either..."

Myungho pushed against your hole and his tip slipped inside you, making both of you moan loudly. It felt like your whole body was on fire, tingly all over, and it was just his tip. Your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you as he slowly pushed deeper, his muscles flexing and squeezing you. You've fucked Myungho before, but his cock felt bigger and stiffer than the other times. You could also tell he was trying his best to hold back from slamming himself into you.

Once his cock was completely sheathed in you, you moaned loudly at the fullness. "You like that? Full like a slut, and taking me so well," Myungho whispered to you, his voice low and husky as he panted heavily. He turned you and pushed your against the wall, your skin touching the cold metal, and your cock rutting against the railing.

"I–just–need–more!" You moaned in pleasure, each word jutting out of you as he thrust experimentally. "Myungie, more!"

"Don't say that! I'm trying to take it easy... If I don't hold back, I might hurt you," He smirked before thrusting again. He drank up your moans, his head resting in the crook of your neck. "You keep moaning so loud, someone's gonna hear how much you love my cock. Tell me how much you need my fat cock!" He grabbed your waist and thrust harder, his other hand made its way to your hair as he pushed you more against the wall. Your hard nipples were rubbed against the cold metal of the elevator walls.

All you could do was moan and scream as he picked up the pace steadily. You whined and moaned yourself into a mess, looking at your reflection in the metal. A slut, Myungho's slut, but you loved every second of it–arching your back to meet the thrusts given to you.

"Who owns you, Kitty?" Myungho slapped your ass, and a loud crack rang in your ears.

"Y-You!" You sucked in the air sharply from the pain. Myungho was fucking you so good already, but you needed more. "Myungie! I cheated, in the game. I was naughty–please break me!" You told on yourself, listening closely to his reaction.

"What did you do, Kitty?"

"I put stuff in your water. More sex stuff, to make you wanna fuck more."

He chuckled. "Really? You just wanted to get fucked even harder, didn't you? Even cheating to make sure I would absolutely break you?" Myungho pushed into you completely, pulling you against his body as he peeled your sweaty body off the wall. "Bad boys have to be punished," He whispered in your ear as his hand left your hair and squeezed your neck. He had a tight grip on you, cutting off your air as he slowly fucked you. Each thrust was slow but hard, knocking any remaining air out of you. Your eyes rolled back as you felt dizzy, you held on for as long as you could before tapping on his hand. He released you, as you gasped for air, but he didn't give you much time to recover. Both hands tighten a grip on your hips and thrust into you harshly, shaking the elevator. He wasn't holding it back anymore.

Your walls tightened with joy as your climax approached.

"And don't you care cum before I say so?" Myungho ordered.

You already knew not to, but he was abusing your spot so hard that it was hard to hold it in.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum–all inside you, fucking slut!" He said, breathing hard as he continued fucking you aggressively. It was a few moments before he dumped a massive load inside you, he wouldn't stop cumming and his whole body twitched. You bit your lip as you felt his load inside you. "I– can't stop cumming. Holy fuck..." Myungho bit into your shoulder as he lazily thrust his cum deeper into you.

When he finally stopped, you remembered to breathe. "Jesus... that was so good," you sighed, your whole body shaking.

Myungho pulled out of you with a loud squelch. "It's your turn, filthy cheater. I want you to cum for me." Myungho got on his knees, slipping your cock into his mouth as he jerked you off way too fast. You jerked and twitched from his roughness but moaned the loudest when you came. You came more than you have ever before, more than Myungho was expecting–cum slipped down his cheek as he tried his best to swallow it.

Once you stopped, you both took a moment to breathe before realizing... Myungho was still hard. He looked at you with a smirk. "Kitty, you're responsible for all this."

You couldn't escape him, trapped in the elevator–Myungho fucked you four more times before he finally tapped out. He had to carry you out of the elevator once it was fixed. He apologized to the apartment staff for the mess before rushing off with you–leaving them to clean a heavily cum-stained floor...