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hauntedhowlett-writes · 11 months

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pairing: tommy miller x waitress!female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 2.9k

summary: what if joel didn’t answer tommy’s call from jail? and what if the waitress he’d been defending that night bailed him out instead?

author’s note: a brief tommy interlude inspired by a line from taylor swift’s song “slut!”. i hope you enjoy and if you do, please consider reblogging or commenting! 🩵

tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), no outbreak au, no use of y/n, reader gets harassed by a drunk bar patron and physically grabbed, bar fights, mentions of alcohol, friends to lovers, tommy smoking cigarettes, i gave tommy an insane amount of game and for what reason, thigh riding, semi-public sex, car sex, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, pet names, creampie. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!

“You’ve reached Joel Miller. Sorry I can’t come to the phone right now…”

“Son of a bitch,” Tommy hisses. The voicemail tone beeps and he continues with, “Joel, answer your goddamn phone. I’m at county. And no, it ain’t my fault. Just…get here when you can, I guess.”

He hangs up the receiver, head low. The officer watching him clears his throat.

“C’mon, Miller. Back to the tank,” he says. Tommy sighs.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m comin’, Chuck.”

Tommy drags his feet across the dingy linoleum. His jaw aches from a sloppy right hook that managed to hit its mark and his eyes burn thanks to the unforgiving drunk tank fluorescent lights. There are two other people in the cell with him this evening — a man who reeks of vodka slumped in the corner in a wrinkled suit and another man who is staring solemnly at a spot on the floor as he tries not to topple over.

Tommy takes a seat on the long concrete bench and stretches his legs out, crossing them at the ankles and folding his hands over his stomach. He might as well get comfortable, there’s no telling when his brother might check his voicemails. As he sits his thoughts drift to what even landed him here in the first place.

Tommy watches you as you approach the bar, a frown tugging at the corners of your lips. You tap the service machine, entering an order with more force than strictly necessary.

“Everythin’ alright?” He asks. You glance at him.

“Yeah, just some group of assholes over by the darts table that think cleavage is an invitation,” you reply. “It’s an invitation for tips. Not hands.”

“You need me to step in?” He offers. You wave a hand at him but your frown turns into a bright smile.

“No, no, I can handle it. Thank you, though, Tommy.” You slide another bottle of beer across the bar. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, darlin’,” he says with a wink. “You let me know if you need savin’.”

“Always such a gentleman.”

The bell to the kitchen window rings and you leave to pick up the order. Tommy watches the sway of your hips in your low rise jeans that hug your ass just right, wondering what it would be like to peel them off and get his hands on the soft skin underneath.

He’s watching the fight on the TV above the bar when he hears a glass shatter behind him. He turns toward the sound, thinking that maybe someone had gotten too rowdy and knocked their glass off the table, but instead he sees you struggling against the hold of a man who’s pulled you onto his lap.

“Let go!” You shout, kicking your legs.

“Come on, sweetheart,” the brute says, arms wrapped around your waist. “Just one lil kiss is all I’m askin’ for!”

Tommy is out of his seat with red in his vision, hands curled into fists that are begging for a target. Other patrons watch with interest, and he’s not sure if he’s angrier at the man putting his hands on you or the crowded room of people not bothering to help.

“Get your fuckin’ hands off of her,” he barks, the same tone he developed after years of service in the Army.

The man releases you, the sudden loss of support causing you to slide to the ground with a shout of surprise. Tommy moves to help you up but the asshole stands, blocking him and shoving his shoulders.

“This don’t involve you, pretty boy,” the man snarls. Behind him, you’ve managed to get up and you hurry away from the scene. “Mind your fuckin’ business.”

“It became my fuckin’ business as soon as she said no and you didn’t listen,” Tommy says, straightening his shoulders. The man laughs and looks back at his friends.

“This fuckin’ guy,” he slurs. “Defendin’ some whore waitress.”

Throw the first punch, Tommy thinks. Come on, asshole.

The man focuses his attention back on Tommy, stepping close enough that they’re toe-to-toe now. He’s maybe an inch taller and he tilts his chin to stretch that inch as far as it will go and he’s breathing through his nose like a bull about to be released from its holding.

“Get out of my fuckin’ face,” Tommy says. The man laughs, the stench of beer pouring from him. A fist cracks across Tommy’s jaw and he stumbles backwards from the force of it.

Showtime, he thinks.

“Miller!” An officer calls out, yanking Tommy from his thoughts. He looks up and the officer jerks his head towards the door. “You made bond. Come get your stuff.”

Tommy stands, relief flooding him. Joel must have finally check his voicemail. At least he won’t have to spend the whole night in here.

“‘Bout time you showed up,” he says as he enters the lobby while he tries to thread his belt through his jeans at the same time.

“Sorry, had to finish my shift,” you reply. His head snaps up in surprise, task forgotten as you wave your fingers at him.

“What’re you doin’ here?” He asks.

“You said your brother was busy tonight, so I was worried you might not have someone to bail you out,” you tell him with a shrug. “Besides, you’re in here because of me. It’s the least I could do.”

Tommy laughs. “Ain’t your fault, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, by the way. Guess I did need saving, after all.”

“You could’a handled him fine. I just sped up the process.”

He’s staring at you now, gaze caught with yours as you give him a soft smile. Tommy spots the time on the clock hanging on the wall above your head.

2:32 a.m.

“You wanna get breakfast?”

The diner Tommy directs you to boasts a neon sign that advertises twenty-four hour breakfast. The booths have cracked red vinyl and the menus are faded from use but you can read it well enough to order French toast while he orders chocolate chip pancakes with a side of hash browns. He builds pyramids out of the coffee creamer cups while you talk and talk and talk. You laugh as he drowns his food in syrup and you steal a bite of them despite giving him a hard time about it.

Afterwards, as you walk together to your car, your palms are a little clammy and your heart pounds the slightest bit faster. You’ve had the biggest crush on Tommy since the first time he slid onto a bar stool at your shitty bar and ordered a Miller Lite (“It’s funny ‘cause it’s my last name!”). He’s always polite, never leaves a mess, and makes you laugh even when you’re having a tough night.

"You alright? You got quiet," Tommy says. You swallow nervously.

"Yeah, I'm totally fine," you reply. He looks like he doesn't want to believe you but he doesn't press for more.

"You mind if I have a smoke before we go?"

"That's fine."

He digs a crumpled box of Camels from his back pocket, sliding a cigarette out and bringing it to his lips. He pats his thighs and then his chest in search of his lighter, finding it in the pocket of his button up shirt. Metal Zippo lighter finally in hand, he flicks it open and brings it closer to his face, flickering flame casting an orange glow over his features.

He breathes in as the cigarette catches the flame and closes the lighter with a quick snap, exhaling the smoke with the cigarette still held between his lips. Lighter tucked away, he inhales again and pinches the filter of the cigarette between two fingers to pull it away and exhale the smoke into the air.

“You gotta quit lookin’ at me like that,” he says. “You keep watchin’ my mouth and it makes me want to do somethin’ real stupid.”

You lean against your car and he steps close. He smells like a mix of smoke and syrup and sweat, three things that shouldn’t have your pulse pounding and yet combined with the way Tommy’s dark eyes focus on you and the dimple in his cheek as he smirks, you don’t stand a chance.

“More stupid than getting in a bar fight?” You finally ask.

“That wasn’t stupid. Got me here with you, didn’t it?” He inhales another lungful of smoke and tips his head back to exhale. “You gonna let me kiss you?”

You smile at him, lifting your hands to smooth your palms over his chest. His cheeks turn a faint shade of pink that trails down his neck, disappearing beneath the white tank top he wore beneath an unbuttoned pink shirt.

“That’s your big stupid idea? Just kissing me?”

Another drag from his cigarette, another smirk, a hand on your hip as he shuffles closer. “Mm, to start.” He brings his lips close to your ear, warm breath tickling your skin as he murmurs, “You didn’t answer the question.”

“What question?”

“You—“ a kiss beneath your ear “—gonna—“ another to your jaw “—let me—“ a third to your cheekbone “—kiss you?”

“Yeah, Tommy. You can kiss me,” you whisper. He wastes no time, greedy lips pressed to yours as soon as he gets the green light. His tongue explores your mouth and tangles with yours, leaving behind the taste of pancakes and smoke.

A thigh presses between your legs, a new pressure and friction that you explore with a tentative roll of your hips. That hand on your waist urges your movements — forward and back at a slow and steady pace. He pulls back from your kiss and brings the cigarette to his lips.

“So goddamn pretty,” he whispers, smoke spilling from his mouth and disappearing into the night air. “Pretty as a fuckin’ picture.”

He flicks the butt of his cigarette to the ground and then he’s on you with renewed purpose, kissing you deeply with a broad palm to your cheek, tilting your face to the best angle to devour you. When he’s gotten his fill of your mouth, his hungry lips slide across your jaw and down your neck, teeth digging in roughly against your pounding pulse and making you gasp.

“Hush, sugar,” he says, a reprimand with little heat as he smiles against your skin. That hand on your waist has found the fly of your jeans, deft fingers working the button open and the zipper down. “You want a little more attention?”

“Mhm,” you reply, nodding your head quickly. He slips his hand beneath the elastic of your panties, quickly swirling over your needy clit. He lets out a deep groan, one that has you clenching on nothing and desperate for more.

“God, you’re fuckin’ soaked,” he says. He presses two thick fingers to your tight entrance. “You can take it, right?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before pressing them inside, the tight pressure making you rise up on your toes in surprise. He’s got a limited range of movement thanks to your jeans but he still manages a sloppy grind of his palm to your clit and curl of his fingers that has you squirming as your release builds inside of you.

“You want more, baby?” Tommy asks, dark eyes a little wild and desperate. “You feel so good in my fingers, I just know you’d take my cock so fuckin’ good.”

“Tommy,” you pant, your hands clutching at his shoulders. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He yanks his hand from your jeans and before you can complain, he’s opening the back passenger door and urging you into the back seat of your sedan.

“Pants off,” he demands as you shuffle across the seats. He sits beside you and starts to unbuckle his belt. “If you’re gonna cum, it’s gonna be on my cock.”

His words have you scrambling to remove your boots and pants, graceless movements in the cramped space. Your elbow connects with his ribs and he hisses as you giggle, wiggling your pants and underwear off. It’s dark in the car, dim light from the parking lot filtering in the windows enough for you to catch the smile on Tommy’s face.

“C’mere,” he drawls, patting his thighs. He’s freed his cock from his jeans and you admire the thick length of him for a brief moment before obeying, straddling his lap. You drag your wet pussy over him, twin groans filling the still air of the car as you do. His hands flex against your thighs and his head tips back against the seat. “Fuck, you feel so damn good.”

It’s not the most comfortable encounter you’ve ever had, with your neck bent so that you don’t hit your head and your skin already slick with sweat from the cramped space and the Texas heat but, heaven help you, the look on Tommy’s face makes it worth it. You reach between your bodies and wrap your hand around him, holding him still as you position him at your entrance.

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss as you lower yourself, your eager cunt adjusting to him with only the slightest pinch of pain that quickly transforms into a delicious fullness. “Oh my god,” you whimper.

“You can just call me Tommy,” he teases, but his voice is just as wrecked as yours. You rise up slightly on your knees and drop down sharply, a satisfied smile on your face when his laughter morphs into a choked curse and his hands grip your hips tightly.

His fingers find the hem of your shirt and lift it up only enough to expose your bra, the cups of which he roughly pulls down until he’s able to get his hands on your breasts, groping you roughly. You moan as his lips wrap around one pert nipple, tongue swirling over the sensitive flesh and light dragging his teeth across it.

The windows grow foggy and your skin starts to get slick with sweat the longer you work yourself over his cock. It’s messy and dirty and uncomfortable, your thighs burn and your neck aches, but Tommy’s making it his goal to get his lips on any skin he can reach, whispered praises between each bite and kiss that has your head growing fuzzy and your core getting tight.

“Feel so good, darlin’,” he groans. “Goddamn, I need you to cum, baby. You were so close before, weren’t ya? I can get you there again, right?”

You nod, mouth open in a silent moan. He presses his thumb to your bottom lip, slipping it experimentally over your teeth until it presses against your tongue. You suck on the digit, reveling in the way his eyes roll back and he groans, hips flexing to meet yours and making you cry out.

“‘M so close, Tommy,” you whisper when he withdraws his thumb from your mouth.

“Yeah, I can feel it, sweetheart,” he growls. When you lift up he holds your hips steady, suspended above his lap. He pounds into you from below, rough slaps of his hips that make you press a hand to the ceiling of the car to steady yourself against the onslaught of sensation. “Come on, baby, come on,” he says through gritted teeth.

It’s the dark look in his eye and the flex of his jaw, the shimmer of sweat on his light tan skin and the feel of his fingers digging bruises into your hips, the lewd noises and the desperate moans against each others mouths that all combine to shove you over an edge you’d been balancing on since, if you’re being honest, he rushed over to help you back at the bar. You bite into his lip as your orgasm crashes over you, his sloppy thrusts and the heat blooming inside of you telling you he reached his peak as well.

You slump forward, panting heavily against Tommy’s neck. His head tips back against the seat, chest heaving with his own labored breaths. His fingers draw patterns against your sweaty back.

“I feel gross,” you groan. Tommy laughs.

“Sure know how to make a guy feel good about himself, don’t ya?” He teases.

“I just meant I’m all sticky.”

“Mm, don’t worry. You can take a shower at my place.”

You pull back to look him in the eye. He’s sporting a satisfied grin as you raise your eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah? You taking me home, Miller?”

“Sure am.” His confident look falters the slightest bit. “I mean, if you want.”

You kiss him, slow and sweet.

“Yeah. I want that.”

The loud ringing of a phone breaks through Tommy’s slumber. He reaches out a hand from beneath the sheets and blindly finds the offensive device amongst the clutter on his nightstand.

“What,” he groans when he’s managed to flip it open.

“Tommy! What the hell, man,” Joel snaps. “I just got your voicemail. Left my phone upstairs and fell asleep on the couch. Are you alright?”

“What?” Tommy asks again. Joel sighs.

“You called from county and said you’d gotten arrested. I called ‘em this morning and they said you got bailed out. One of your friends come by or somethin’?”

Tommy glances over to you, where your bare shoulder peeks out from the sheets, the fabric draped across your curves. He smiles.

“Yeah, a real good friend. Guardian angel, even,” he says.

Another sigh from Joel, this time one of relief. “Well, good. Quit gettin’ into trouble after ten, I can’t stay up that late anymore.”

“Sure,” Tommy agrees. You turn over, sleepy eyes blinking up at him. “I gotta go.”

He hangs up without waiting for a goodbye. You scooch closer and lay your head on his chest.

“A guardian angel, huh?” You ask. He kisses the top of your head.

“Yep. Saved my ass from the wrong place at the right time.”

Masterlists available here!

#tommy miller x female reader #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller #tommy miller tlou #tommy miller x you #tommy tlou #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x y/n

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deceitfuldevout · 8 months

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Country Club Films

Dark!Camstar!Rafe Cameron x Reader x Dark!Pimp!Barry

Word Count: +7,293

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Nsfw gifs, Misogynist/sexist remarks, Manhandling, Loss of virginity, Human trafficking, Dark web, Mentions of cheating/infidelity. Non consensual stepcest, Force drug usage, Rafe is a huge slut and Barry is a sick freak, Blackmail, Mind break, Manhandling.

Author's Note(s): This is going to be a one-shot. Don't ask for a part 2 if you're not going to like/comment/reblog. I'm trying to catchup with real life and it's kicking my ass. Give a bitch a break ffs.

Offline Rafe is known as the long-reigning Kook king. But online he's known as one of the biggest camstars on the East Coast. When Barry, his former pimp, offers him a one-last film offer, well he just couldn't refuse. After all, it was just this once, right? Rafe began his career as a prostitute at a young age. It started off as something he did for fun, but when his dad cut him off that’s when he began working for a streaming service. He needed that quick cashflow if he'd going to survive in the Outer Banks.

At first, it started off as a hobby. Rafe was into voyeurism, he found that out at a young age. To dominate someone while everyone else knew. In the beginning of Rafe's livestreaming career, he started off as a solo act. He loved messaging complete strangers online, he especially loved the look on these women's face when he pulls his cock out. How their expression would change, the sudden stuttering at the sight of it. He loves when their eyes would rake up and down his girth, knowing full well they were admiring the sight of it. He'd jerk himself off in front of the camera, rubbing at his thighs while taunting his viewers. Rafe would edge himself off for each tip.

Rafe knows he's well endowed. Him having a pretty face and nice body was the cherry on top. He made himself comfortable with this newfound stardom. Becoming a sex worker was the last thing on Rafe's mind. In a span of a few months, Rafe was one of the biggest online stars. The best part is, no one else knew who he was. He found a luxury apartment by the beachside to live in, that's where he did most of his work. He even invited some of his clients for a solo video.

It was more of a hobby for him, he would secretly record these women and keep it in his inventory. As long as he was getting paid and looked good doing so, he could care less what the other women looked like. To him it was strictly business. Old, young, single or taken, it didn't matter. For him it was a side hustle to get back on his feet. Hell, some of them were his dad's former clients. Rafe earned enough to get him a luxury apartment by the beach with the well-earned income and cushiony life.

If she had a pretty face, then he'd do it in missionary. If not? He'd fuck her doggy-style. He had fucked up one day after failing to pay Barry back. He may have underestimated the Pogue drug dealer when thinking he could get away with not paying him full price. When returning to his home he noticed a window had been broken, the T.V. had been running. When Barry breaks into Rafe's apartment in search of his money owed, the last thing he expects is a built-in porn set. There Rafe found him, currently watching his last performance on his brand new T.V.

It was as if the Pogue knew he was there, "Country Club...where's my credit for giving you that name," he stands up from the recliner. His expression wasn't mad, in fact, it was quite the opposite. It started off with Barry suggesting that he'd pay him back. Whether Rafe was willing to or not. He doesn't have a choice. Barry knew of his dirty little secret. He has enough evidence to ruin the Kook's polished image. So, for the past few months Barry has been his personal pimp. It became a regular routine.

Barry would schedule the meetings with clients to make it easier. A quick suck and fuck to cover rent. Rafe worked hard to get to where he was. This isn't a side hustle. It took skill to get to where he is. Rafe is one of the highest ranking members for a reason. The once proud Kook-king was owned by some Pogue. For the longest time Barry had almost total control over his business. Rafe had to work hard for the past few months in order to gain control again. Even after gaining access to his social media, it was Barry who called the shots.

Rafe would be notified by Barry of a latest client, they would meet up at the country club, where Rafe did most of his dirty work. That, and a motel nearby. For Rafe, the country club was a hunting ground. He'd often go for married older women with neglectful husbands. He would be the face of their business, but Barry would be the backup in case things got ugly (or if an unsuspecting husband were to walk in). Rafe's steaming channel became popular as well. His online alias? Country club. Like the place he'd pickup his clients.

It was the first time Rafe had been this confident in himself. He had finally earned enough to make a living and have liquid income pouring in. He would never have to worry about money again. But it wasn't enough for Barry. He wanted power, control and fear. So, what better way than to start blackmailing their clients? They had the wealthiest women in the palm of their hands. For them, paying off a blackmail would be cheaper than a divorce. Rafe knows he could get away with it too. He knew exactly what these prim and proper women wanted: A good and hard fucking. They wanted to be dominated, controlled and degraded to their heart's contempt.

It was surprising how many women of high society were into the downright nastiest things. Rafe can give them all that and more. Rafe would choke them, slap them around a few times, sometimes even reducing these women into tears. Yet they always came back soaking wet. Their husbands weren't enough. They needed a good fuck to escape the pressures of being a Kook. Call it an act of community service if you will. After getting into a brawl with a married woman's husband, Rafe decides that he doesn't want to take in clients anymore. Barry convinces him of a newer strategy: Live streaming for bids. Soon he was making an easy six figures. Rafe considers himself to be an expensive experience.

Now that he had a stable income with his streaming service, he can work from home. Usually for commissions or requests by his clients. So far Rafe had been enjoying his life after retirement. At that point Rafe didn't care what anyone would say. After spending some time in the industry, he had gained a new sense of confidence. Immunity, if you will. For his entire life, Rafe had gotten away with just about anything. He knows he's making almost as much as his father now. On a good day, even more. Barry was on his payroll and kept quiet about it.

There's only one thing Rafe missed about working in the industry: The rush. Rafe was going to miss the thrill of doing whatever he wants to a complete stranger. It made him rock hard just thinking about it. He could do whatever he wanted and they would beg for it. These women would beg for him to ruin them. The best part was, they would always come back for more. More, more, more. Rafe went as far as to sneak into the houses of married women while their husbands were away. He had earned a black eye and fractured rib after being caught. He thankful for not having to worry about that ever again.

Yet still, there's a part of him that yearns for that adrenaline, if only he could balance it with his regular life. Rafe wanted to spend time with his family more than anything. He knows that Ward had been giving him shit for missing his sister's recitals. He'll try to make up for that.

He'd just got off the phone with his sister, promising to show up at her next show. Barry had been messaging his phone nonstop. Rafe groans, what was it this time? Rafe decides to call him, "What's up?" a short and simple statement. Barry sounded a bit muffled on the other side, "I'm coming over, tomorrow, and I've got a deal you won't regret," he sounds confident. Rafe was curious by the humor in Barry's tone, "What is it?" now wondering what had made the dealer so excited.

Barry promised Rafe that he wouldn't bring up films as long as he was getting paid, but this? This was different, "We're about to become millionaires, Country Club," with that he hung up. Rafe groans, rubbing the back of his neck. He was enjoying his retirement while it lasted. Like his father, he would take any opportunity given to him. A chance at receiving a million dollars? Shit, maybe one last time wouldn't hurt. Rafe might just be looking forward to fucking whatever old crone paid for his time.

Rafe had emptied his schedule just to meet up with the Pogue. He set up studio, making a simple bed on the floor nice and pretty. He even added a few pillows for comfort. He then waits for Barry to arrive, to kill the time Rafe would snort a few rounds. He already indulged in his expensive collection of alcohol until his throat went hoarse. Rafe wanted to be as intoxicated as he could possibly be if he wanted to make it bearable.

A buzzing noise from his alert system indicated that Barry was already in the lobby. Rafe had let him pass through. It had taken the dealer a while to get upstairs. In the meantime, Rafe had popped a special pill to keep the party going. There's a loud slam on his door. Rafe opens it to find Barry hauling a large suitcase. He'd a little sweaty from the travel. It wasn't easy sneaking onto Kook territory. Especially if you were as notorious as him.

He watches as his partner hauls the luggage inside, cursing as he finally tosses it onto the living room floor. Rafe looks out to see if there are any onlookers before shutting the door closed. He locks it before walking towards it, "What is that?" to which his friend ignores. Barry hurries to where the camera had been set. As soon as he realizes it was ready, he goes for Rafe's laptop, logging in to prepare for a livestream. Barry is quick with his moves, wasting no time. He kicks off a few prop pillows until the mattress is bare. This confused Rafe as he was told he'd be using props for the video.

Barry orders Rafe to help with setting up the room, "Get this shit off,"

"What?"

"We can't let them know where we are, gotta make this place a little shitty," Barry informed Rafe that the client had a taboo fetish for non-consensual roleplay. He wants this place to resemble an abandoned building. So, both of the men put in the effort to make it look just like that. Rafe places an old worn-out mattress in the center of his room. Anything personal was discarded of.

By the time they were done the room it resembled a scene from a torture porn film. Rafe suddenly jolts to the sound of loud rustling coming from the luggage. Apparently, Barry wasn't specific to what kind of prop would be used either. Rafe turns to it, "What the fuck is in there...?" his voice is in all seriousness, "What the fuck is happening?" his attention is fully on the noise coming from the container.

Barry hurries to the case, his hands are quick to open it, "Our client wants us to use prop," that's when Barry reveals a woman who had been kept inside. He hauls her by the underarms and pulls her out the case. Rafe stares at the woman then back at Barry. He tries to read his face, nothing. In fact, Barry seemed like the only one that was perfectly calm about all this. He effortlessly lifts the woman out of the case, dragging her to the bare mattress. He ignores her muffled crying and returns to the camera. Barry wants the angle to be just right.

Rafe couldn't believe what was happening. He can't keep his eyes off the woman. Her hands and legs had been bound by duct tape. Her face covered with a satchel. She had been wearing a leotard--but it was the ballet shoes that had him in the chokehold. Rafe had a thing for cute, delicate things. A strange fascination of his were Ballerinas. As soon as he spotted those shoes his brain started to malfunction. It gave a sense of femininity that he wanted to protect. It reminded him of a special someone from home.

Barry informs Rafe that the clientele was a very important person on the Island. Their decision to start streaming, was Barry's idea. He made sure to turn on the bidding option to collect some extra cash. It was two birds with one stone. Barry shakes her by the shoulder a few times to give a good scare. He does it just show just how much stronger he was. Barry nods to his accomplice, ushering him to come over. Rafe is hesitant when approaching the two. Barry finally shoves her back down with a 'thud'. Rafe isn't bothered one bit by that.

Was it so wrong that Rafe had been emotionally numb to all of this? Maybe it was the dope or maybe a part of him really didn't care. Either way this would be the last time he would ever need to make another film again. The Kook sighs, "Let's make this quick, I have to get to my sister's recital," he begins to strip himself of all clothing.

"Sarah?" Barry questions,

"No, the other one,"

Barry smirks, "Almost forgot about that one,"

Rafe strips himself of all clothing before approaching the mattress. He circles around her, like a predator stalking its prey. He eyes her like a hawk, yet there isn't a single thought behind those blues. Barry is in charge of the camera work. He made sure hold it steady as Rafe got to work. This had been more than what Rafe was used to taking. He was more buzzed than usual, and he knew it. But did he really care? He felt good, and that's all that matters. Fuck, Barry was getting hard at the thought of it.

He's always had a thing for her, but the bitch thought she was too good for him. One thing he couldn't stand being was a stuck-up Kook bitch. Barry grits his teeth at the memory of her laughing at him. Now he was her only saving grace, “Her family, they're looking for her, and get this: Her daddy is a big-time figure on the Island, the dude is loaded,” he starts feeding Rafe bit by bit of a fantasy, leaving out the most important details.

Barry mentions one last thing: "The client wants you to break her in," he's dead serious too. For a moment Rafe pauses, "You serious?" His brows furrow, "She's never had dick?" He couldn't believe it. Rafe groans at the thought of it. She was a good girl who had gotten into some trouble, and now these bad men were going to ruin her. Rafe could practically feel how heavy his balls were. Fuck, he's never wanted pussy this bad before. There's something about an unused cunt that just gives a man an ego boost. If it's a show the client wants, it's a show he'll get.

Rafe pins her down with his body weight, he chokes her out, admiring the way she would try to fend him off. It was adorable, she really thought she had a chance. He taunts her pathetic attempts, "C'mon...try harder...let's see if you have a chance..." at this point he really was playing with his food, "See? You can't, because I'm stronger than you, I can do whatever the fuck I want," he rips the thin fabric off for a dramatic effect, "Your daddy's not here to save you," knowing that would only make her cry harder. Apparently, her stepfather was a very important businessman. One of the wealthiest in the entire Outer Banks. One who just so happened to have a very pretty stepdaughter. Rafe questions why the old man hasn't fucked her yet. He knows that if it were him, he already would've.

Rafe grinds his hips against her clothed sex. He groans, "How about I be your daddy? Huh?" he taunts, "Say it, say it slut," he grips around her neck again. He could barely hear the gurgled cry that came from underneath. Rafe didn't want to calm her down. It would be more entertaining for the audience if there was a performance. It was the thrill of the chase that excites him the most. Rafe wants her to be sobbing by the time he's done with her. He tears at her top, groping at the exposed flesh. He relishes in the feeling of soft skin. It'd been a while since he's hooked up with anyone. During the past few months, Rafe had only produced solo films. For once, he prefers a tight cunt over his hand.

Barry reassures him that there wouldn't be a thing to worry about, "Just go with the flow," he had already set up the starting prices. As the livestream started his fans began to swarm on. Rafe had been impressed by the number of viewers, had they really missed him that much? He held her against his bare chest. Rafe gropes at her bare chest while reading the comments. He rests his chin on your shoulder blade, taking his sweet time reading each comment. He plays along, “What do you say guys should we fuck her cunt or ass first?” A string of pings goes off from the laptop as it’s being broadcasted. Complete strangers were rooting for him to ruin her.

He chuckles after reading the comment, "C'mon guys vote in the poll ass or cunt first," as if she were a piece of meat. A sinister smile is plastered on his face. He held her by the neck, tilting his face towards her ear, "You're not a person, you hear me?" his fingers add more pressure, "From now on you're mine," his other hand caresses her mound. His digits tease at her clothed core, "This cunt? Mine," another 'ping' came from his laptop. He looks right at the camera, "How much can we get for her cunt? Do I hear $100?"

Rafe enjoyed playing with his prey. He loved to hear their whimpers for mercy. Barry reads a few requests, "The fans want you to slap her," of course, Rafe couldn't let his fans down. He shoves her down. He swats at her rear, admiring the way it ripples with each crack. His hand lands on it again and again, until she was writhing in pain. He then pulls at the remaining fabric. Now exposing her to millions of viewers. Rafe wasn't the least bit shy. He'd gotten comfortable with showing off his body to the world.

He motions for his partner to get closer with the camera. Barry approaches, unbuckling his belt to release his half-hard cock. He pumps it a few until it gets hard enough to stand. His cock now pressed against his abs, already leaking with precum. Rafe wanted full access to her, in order to do so he'll need a little help, "Hold her down, need some room," he held the camera so that Barry could cut some tape off. As soon as her hands were freed, she began smacking around. Both men laugh at the woman's feeble attempts. As if she could actually hurt them.

Rafe is having way too much fun with the struggle. Barry pins her hands under his knees, hard enough so that it would hurt. He hands over the knife to Rafe. He glides it along her thighs as a warning. In a few seconds her legs were freed, but only for a moment. Rafe got to work parting both of her legs. He uses his bodyweight to pin both of her legs down. His fingers already gliding up and down her slit. He presses his finger pads right on her core, rubbing it vigorously. Poor thing hadn't a clue who this stranger was playing with her cunt. He could be anyone, that's the part he loved the most.

Rafe loves getting his clients all worked up, sometimes to the point of tears. Until they're practically begging for him to ruin them. He knows his audience wouldn't say a thing if they thought it was roleplay. Most of his popular videos were darker fantasies. He's had his fair share of fucked up roleplays. His fans wouldn't so much as bat an eye if he were to smack her around. Rafe toys with the woman's exposed slit as Barry pointed the camera at them. Rafe spat at her mound, coating it with his saliva before teasing it again. Barry held her down while Rafe got to work on making her fall apart. He can't take his eyes off of such a pretty slit. Rafe's cock twitches at the sight of her slickened slit. He was transfixed by the sight of her tight cunt puckering at him. As if it were begging to be ruined.

Rafe doesn't waste any time diving him tongue first. He wraps his lips around the entrance, suckling at it like a starved man. Rafe starts with slow, strong licks. He made sure to look at the camera to capture a POV for the audience, before flattening his tongue against her mound. He presses the muscle along her slit, dragging it up and down. Rafe parts for a moment to spit a wad before lapping against her sex. He suckles along the sides, making sure to get her all hot and bothered. If there's something he's good at, it's eating pussy.

For dramatic effect, Rafe rubs his head from side to side, humming so that she could feel just how deep his tongue was inside her. Rafe retrieves for a moment, but only to tease the audience, "Bitches love when you bite it," Rafe jokes. He's had quite the experience as a giver. He knows just the right amount of pressure to bring a woman to climax. His teeth tease at her sensitive pearl. Her thighs quake from the pressure. Barry dares his friend to continue the torment, "Give it a pull, she can take it," and so he does. His thick fingers tug at her poor clit. A frantic cry is all he needed to hear before pressing the first digit inside. Shit, she was tight.

When he tries so curl his finger a howl of pain escapes. A swift kick lands right on his nose, landing with a loud 'crack' sound. Barry couldn't help but let out a burst of laughter. Rafe backs away, retreating to inspect the damage done. That's when Barry mentions something he should've done earlier, "Oh yeah, forgot to mention, this one is still intact," he forces her legs apart, parting her folds to reveal what Rafe hadn't bothered spotting. Before Rafe could pounce on her, Barry pulls her up against him. He tries balancing the camera but eventually lets it rest on a chair nearby. That way he could have more control over her.

He grips the back of her knees, exposing her full to a very pissed off Rafe. He knows that the Kook always held a grudge. Once his mind is set, there's no stopping him. Barry decides to twist the knife, “They want you to break her in,” he lets her go, raising his hands in the air so that Rafe is free to perform. He pulls her in by the ankles, dragging her across the mattress. He flips her over, pulling his belt from his waist before swatting it at her a few times. He ignores her crying, only using more force when she tries to run away. He doesn't stop, not until she's screaming at the top of her lungs. But it's not enough for Rafe's bruised ego. She embarrassed him in front of his fanbase. He needs to make sure that never happens again.

Rafe presses his fat tip along her folds. He collects whatever slick is there, still glaring at the masked woman as if she were the scum on earth, "God I can't wait to rape this bitch," he uses his entire body weight to thrust forward. A howl of agony is heard underneath the mask as it starts to soak with tears. Rafe's nails dig into her hips, hard enough to break skin. He pounds deep into her tight cunt. Rafe groans, "Shit...that's some good fucking pussy," as he fucks her into the mattress. Rafe had trouble making her stay still. He keeps having to pull her back in. Barry, being the friend that he is decides to help Rafe out. His shoe lands on her back, pinning her to the mattress below. He held it right against the back of her neck, mushing it down every time she squirms.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin has Barry hard as a rock “Shit country club…I can hear you in her guts,” if that didn’t give Rafe the biggest ego boost he needed to continue. Rafe huffs at Barry, “Oh yeah?” His voice sounding cockier from the statement. He wraps his strong arms around her waist before lifting her against his chest. Rafe fell back with a 'thud', revealing to the audience a full view of his cock burred balls-deep inside. Barry held the camera carefully, he hovers the device over the woman's slit, pointing it to where Rafe's cock sunk in. He captures Rafe's thick cock deep inside her weeping cunt. His balls slapping against her skin as he fucked her like a feral animal. He’s had a good fucking before but not like this. This time he has full free range to do whatever he wants.

Barry nears the two, he wants a closer look at his pretty little victim. He pulls and tugs at her tits until a muffled sob escapes. He then starts to smack them around, letting them bounce as Rafe abuses her cunt. Rafe moans at the sensation of her walls squeezing his cock with each slap. When Barry releases them, Rafe is quick to take over, his hands grip at them as hard as he can. He groans at the feeling of her cunt pumping him. Barry’s eyes rake over her naked body. He could see the indent of Rafe’s cock inside her cunt, palming at his own growing erection. He takes his sweet time examining their pretty little victim. Barry presses his hand against the indent of Rafe’s cock, “Oh fuck…can you feel that?” His palm presses harder until a squeal is heard from under the mask.

Barry chuckles, “Shit, Country Club is fucking your guts out,” a crude remark. Rafe couldn’t help but grin at that remark. He’s always been well endowed, but hearing that his cock’s imprint could be seen? It went straight to his head. Then an idea hits him. Barry spits a thick wad in his palm, his hand reaches in between her legs. He starts to massage her slit, his fingers tracing that sensitive button right above her stuffed cunt. As soon as her toes start to curl he stops, giving her a moment to prepare for an orgasm. Then he slaps her sensitive bundle of nerves as hard as he can. He watches as her mound bounces from the impact. A howl of agony pours out from under the satchel as she tries her best to close her legs.

Barry isn’t having it. He forces her legs open while Rafe fucks up and into her channel. Barry encourages him to keep going, “You gonna get her nice and pregnant huh Country Club?" he taunts, knowing damn well what he was doing. Rafe growls into her ear, letting him primal instincts take over, "'M’gonna fucking breed you, you hear me? This cunt is gonna give me a baby,” he juts his hips faster. Sweat collects on his forehead, “Gonna show you off to the whole town, let them know that it’s my baby in there…oh fuck!” His breathing became erratic as he began to pick up pace. Rafe growls as his cock sunk back into her warm channel. He squeezes her tits, "Can't wait for these to get full,"

Barry huffs, now jerking off to the sight of it, “You gonna make her a single mom, Country club?” Barry jerks his cock at the sight of it. He groans at the sight of her abused cunt filled with Rafe’s spunk. He lets out a faint sigh, “Damn country club, didn’t know you were this pent up,” to which Rafe nears her ear, "Imagine that, you getting knocked up by a complete stranger," he huffs, "Can you even hear me?" Rafe reaches for the cloth, but before he could remove it, Barry swats his hand away, "No, not until we're finished," that was part of the deal, "Her stepdad is an important Kook," never stating who he was. Rafe hums with delight. If only he could see the look on the stranger's face after finding out his stepdaughter had been absolutely ruined for any other man.

Rafe came, hard. He made sure to drain his balls deep inside her pussy. He sunk his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder blade, ignoring the wail from underneath the satchel. Rafe let's out a deep, gutteral moan, finally coming down from his high. He throws her limp figure onto the mattress so that he could catch his breath. He reads the comments section of his stream. Each fan would send a bid higher than the previous one.

This was the most bank he's made in a while. He reads the requests, making sure to take a mental note. Rafe returns to her, lying limp on the mattress. Her abused cunt leaking thick wads of spunk. Rafe couldn't help it, he just loved to shove his fingers in there. He'd play with her pussy, despite her whines. Rafe loves inspecting it, like some sort of toy he could use and abuse.

He flips her over, rubbing at her slit again. He bites his bottom lip, "C'mon....give me another one..." his fingers began to pick up speed. He waited to see the signs. When her thighs would quake before crumbling apart. He knew exactly what he was doing, "Ohh did I hit that sweet spot princess?" he taunts, "If you didn't like that, then you're gonna hate this..." Rafe wasn't done with her punishment, he wasn't even close to finishing. Rafe made sure to duct tape a vibrator to her inner thigh.

He parts her folds, pressing the round tip of the toy against her bundle of nerves. He then held her thighs together, using fresh tape to keep them closed. With the vibrator now pressed snugly against her pussy. He leaves the living room to grab a drink, asking if Barry wanted anything in the fridge. But the Pogue would rather jerk off to the pretty Kook trying to fend off an orgasm. Rafe returns with a cold beer in hand, he hands it over to the Pogue as the two men clink their drinks, saluting a 'cheers' to the fans watching.

They could hear her sobbing as her hips swayed for release. Both men mock the sounds that came from their victim. Barry and Rafe mimic her voice. Rafe was actually laughing at what he’d done. There was a smug look on his face as he re-watched part of the video. He's visibly smiling in it. A part of him wonders why Barry hasn’t joined in. A chance to break a virgin in? He doesn't know a single man that wouldn't take the chance. Barry lets him know, "The clientele wanted to see the best of the best, Country Club," he shrugs it off. Rafe doesn't think twice about it. He's too high to use his brain right now.

Rafe returns to where they left her. He reaches in between her legs, his thick fingers part her folds, letting his cum leak out. He whistles, "Shit....I really did a number on you," he could tell she was close and decides to help the poor thing out. What Barry says next came off as a challenge, "Bet you she's a squirter," only one thing can determine that. Rafe nods to the camera, "Get closer," he wants the audience to get a better look at how a professional does it. Rafe's fingers digits start stretching her drenched cunt again. Soon, they rapidly pumping in and out of her core. Then a gush of arousal pours out. Barry whistles at the sight of it, cheering on his partner.

Rafe hums, "Such a pretty pussy...." he moans, swiping his thumb at it. He collects the juices from her leaking hole, "I don't think she's ever came this hard," bringing his now slick digits to his mouth to taste, "Hmm...so fucking sweet," he purses his lips, "Little coppery," he could taste the tinge of blood on his tongue. It excites him, "I've gotta fill you up baby...gonna make sure you're nice and full," he squeezes at her breasts, pulling and tugging at the sensitive skin, “These are gonna fill in too," he latches his lips to a free breast, suckling at it like a starving man.

Rafe pops his mouth off for a moment. He swats at her tits, gripping them as hard as he can. A yelp escapes her lips before she's crying again. Rafe coos, "Shhh...shh...you 'needa calm down baby," he talks to her as if she were a child. Then an idea hits him, "We needa put some in her," which confuses Barry for a moment, "Her what?"

"Put some in her pussy, then she'll calm down," Rafe couldn't tell if it was because of the adrenaline or drugs. He doesn't care though, he’s in pure bliss right now. He wants to keep chasing that feeling. An idea hits him. Rafe retrieves an LSD tab from his pant pocket. He looks up at the camera. He sticks out his to tongue for the viewers to see, placing the drug on it. He lets it dissolve a bit before delving it deep inside her. His lips wrap around her slit as he suckles at the nerves. He knew those sick fucks wanted to see something with absolute filth in it. Why not go all out?

Rafe watches as she slowly starts to go slack. Her limbs flail for a moment before finally going limp. Barry couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. Rafe joins in, grinning from ear to ear at the now demobilized woman. Barry jokes, “She’s too doped up to know where the fuck she's at," causing Rafe to laugh ever harder. Both of them not realizing her feeble attempt to crawl away.

Rafe shakes Barry's shoulder, "Look at that..." he nears, crouching down at her, "So fucking cute..." for a moment he just watches her. Rafe tilts his head, "There's nowhere to run," he doesn't understand why she was still trying. He stands up, his leg pushes against her rib, shoving her to the floor. When she tries to pull herself back up again, he does the same thing only harder. Which brings him to the question: What would it take to really break her?

He flips her over, pressing his body against hers on the floor. She starts crying again when he sinks his cock in her. She's dizzy, scared and confused. Rafe is starting to get annoyed by the dramatics. He wraps both hands around her throat and gives a squeeze to shut her up. It does the exact opposite. She starts to cry even harder this time. Rafe grits his teeth, "Stop, stop crying," Rafe squeezes harder this time, intending to choke her out until she complies. Rafe shakes her a few times just to hear her cry harder. He could feel her walls pulsing from the lack of air. Rafe moans, thrusting his hips at the feeling of her squeezing his cock. He rolls his hips from the sensation. A deep, guttural moan escapes his throat. Fuck...she felt heavenly.

It had been four hours since then. Barry and Rafe would draw little tally marks on her skin every time they came. Soon the few lines turned into small groupings along her thighs and breasts. Barry had written a few words across her skin for the kick of it. Rafe had added some words himself just for the sake of it. ‘Suck me’ had been written on both breasts, ‘Cock sleeve’ was scribbled on her bare mound, ‘Cum dumpster’ had been scribbled on her rear. A few more tally marks could only be seen on her inner thighs. By the end of it the poor thing was brain dead. Her voice had gone hoarse from the hours of screaming.

Rafe felt sorry for missing his sister's recital. He'll have to make up for it. Right now he was just too fucked up to do anything. Rafe was drained, his balls are empty but hey, at least he's way richer. He shares a blunt with Barry. Both of them taking short puffs from the bud. Rafe was still cockwarming his new pet. Every now and then rolling his hips. It's not like she was there anymore.

They broke her, mind and body. As the prices began to rise, so did the poor woman's torment. Barry passes over the blunt. Rafe takes a few huffs. It was getting late and by then he was more than satisfied with the money they accumulated. Rafe closes his eyes, turning his head to his companion, "What do you think we should call it?" suggesting a name for the video. Barry pauses for a while. He turns to the Kook and grins, "How about....sibling bonding?"

Rafe pauses for a moment, turning to his accomplice, "What do you mean by that?" Barry only smiles back, "I think you know," "Know what?" a feeling of dread starts to consume him. There's a gut feeling that something was terribly wrong. All color drains from his face as Rafe releases the woman. He scrambles away from her. He's never sobered up so fast in his life. Rafe quickly changes into his clothes. He checks his phone to read the last few messages.

-Promise me you won't miss it Rafe! I'll message you when I get back home, ok? Love you ❤ 1:15pm -Where are you? I don't want to be late :( 2:49pm -You promised me you'd make it in time. 3:08pm -Never mind, your friend offered me a ride. 3:25pm

Rafe read the text messages over and over again. His hands can't stop shaking as he almost drops the phone. He doesn't look back, afraid of the unenviable truth, "I'm uh...I'm gonna head out, my sister she--she's waiting for me," just as Rafe was about to leave he hears Barry, "Sarah?" his face is expressionless, only his brows were raised. Yet his eyes were cold and calculated. Barry only ever gave that look right before fucking them over. The hell is he planning now?

"No..." Rafe answers. Barry purses his lips, "Is it...Wheezy?" as if he didn't know anything, "Oh...that's right, there's another one," as if he never spoke with her. Rafe turns to him now, obviously annoyed, "She's waiting for me at home," now demanding to leave. Barry raises a brow, "You think so?"

"I know so,"

"Sure?"

"Dude, why are you so interested in my sister?"

"Step-sister,"

"Listen man, I've gotta go, she's waiting for me," but before he could leave, Barry starts to laugh, "I think you know where she is, Country Club," and for a moment, Rafe pauses, he thinks about what Barry just said. Rafe faces Barry. He looks him dead in the eyes, "What the fuck are you saying?" he approaches the mattress, "What the fuck do you mean--" almost choking on his words, "...What do you mean by that...?" there's a strong feeling of despair that takes over his senses. Rafe felt like he was going to puke. Barry couldn’t help it, he knows he should’ve told him. But if Rafe knew he was fucking his own stepsister, well, he’d stop right there.

Rafe starts to hyperventilate. He fell to his knees, realizing the weight of what he had done. In the past few hours, the two men had put you through the most abusive experience of your life. Rafe used to be excited hearing the ‘ping’ that came from his comment section. To him, that meant money was being sent to directly into his account. Hearing them now made his stomach turn. Tears form in the corners of his eyes as he stares back at you, “That…that’s my stepsister--“

“I’ve seen the way you look at her,” Barry cradles her in his arms, as if they were a doting couple. Rafe couldn’t believe this was happening, “You’re sick…” he stumbles backwards. Barry glares at him, “You were balls deep inside her, but I’m the one who's sick?” he doesn’t give Rafe a second glance.

Money was tight and Barry needed to create the most depraved film yet. Something that was so hot yet so fucking wrong. Barry never mentioned who the buyer had been. The brother of Rafe's last affair. A married woman who had been blackmailed by the two men. After taking her own life, her brother wanted revenge. So, he waited, planned, and plotted while Rafe thrived while living in figure eight. He hired Barry as a part of his sick revenge scheme.

Barry of course complied. After all, it was mainly Rafe's fault for sneaking out to see said client. After losing one of their most valuable customers, Barry had to pin the blame on someone. Who knew it would produce one of the greatest film's he's ever made? It has an equal amount of shock and lust, combined into a four-hour long video. Barry lifts her up and into his arms. He cradles her against his chest, carefully removing the sack. For a moment, Rafe is in a state of shock. Only staring at them.

Barry gently cradles her face, he holds her up to Rafe, “C’mon Country Club, give her a lil kiss,”

Rafe felt sick to his stomach. He fell to his knees and Barry was capturing it all. His final end of the deal was being completed: Film Rafe Cameron having a break down in front of millions of viewers. His fans watched as Rafe started to scream at the top of his lungs. He held the sides of his temples. Refusing to believe what he had done. What he did to you.

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Rafe wanted to to finish one last film then be done with it. Then he’ll quit and live a regular life. Rafe regrets ever missing your recital, he regrets not answering you sooner, he should've never started this thing in the first place. Never in his life had he abused someone to that extent. He felt a strong wave of anxiety taking over as he spilled his guts on the floor, puking out the alcohol from his system. Rafe began to panic, turning his head to face the screen as he stares back at the lens. Now the entire Outer Banks will know what happened.

#dark!rafe #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader #reader #reader insert #dark!rafe cameron x you #dark!Rafe x reader #my works #my work #fem!reader #afab!reader #fab!reader

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jade-len · 8 months

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i adore how mxtx sorta flipped the idea on the whole top/bottom thing with svsss, and just BL relationships in general.

making bingqiu very open to switching, not making the "bottom" super feminine and actually leaning more to the handsome side compared to the "top", how luo binghe is manipulative sensitive and cries easily, etc. one of the main themes in svsss is literally about sexuality (and possibly even about gender roles).

as a queer asian man myself, i absolutely despise the "yaoi archetype" and it was one of the reasons why i avoided consuming BL media. hell, years ago when i first saw heavens official blessing, i mentally groaned and went, "ugh, let me guess, the bottom is super feminine and innocent, while the top is masculine and experienced." of course, that's not the case now, but it's disappointing how that thought was there purely because of the god awful way fetish-y media portrays homosexual people and couples. because, believe it or not, we are not assigned male/female typical gender roles just because one likes to top/bottom (and even then, it's not even like that! some people have preferences, sure, but it's not so strictly "i'm top/bottom")

so, while i absolutely LOVE the english novel designs (especially luo binghe's cute curly hair, gongyi xiao, etc, and personally believe a lot of the takes from the western artist on the designs are an improvement), i am greatly saddened by people subconsciously assigning shen qingqiu as someone more delicate and feminine and luo binghe as someone super masculine and muscly. like, if you're going to have luo binghe depicted as the western design (i believe this stems from binghe being applied to more western ideals for men, and, admittedly, i actually really love his design), at least don't make shen qingqiu feminine and delicate? don't have his appearance play into the stupid yaoi thing?

i get that people have different takes on svsss, especially how the western version depicts it. but, people just... seem to very over exaggerate the top/bottom roles when it comes to bingqiu (again, these two are, canonically, VERY open to switching).

it's weird, it's uncomfortable, and it comes across as, "so, who wears the pants in the relationship?"

so, can we please have more canonically handsome shen qingqiu? canonically beautiful and pretty boy luo binghe (they literallly state that binghe looks EXACTLY like his mom, su xiyan! while a more handsome woman, is still very beautiful!! plus it is stated several times that binghe is slim, and that shang qinghua made him that way!) or at the very least, a BL couple who actually look like normal people (ok thats a little hard considering binghe is literally supposed to be perfect) and not just a stupid fetishized version of themselves.

and no, i'm not saying that queer men shouldn't be feminine or men who are feminine shouldn't be in a relationship with guys who are masculine, etc.

TLDR: please stop twinkifying shen qingqiu and going against what mxtx defied for us queer men (the stupid yaoi roles). and for the love of whoever you believe in, do NOT think that i hate the english design or people's personal interpretation of characters, i just hate the subconscious assigning of gender roles to bingqiu and how media portrays and fetishizes LGBTQ+ relationships in general.

edit: also i love teardrew's (check them out on twitter!) interpretation of shang qinghua. while i do really like the the eng novel design's tiny scared hamster vibes, teardrew's version just radiates "up to no good, paranoid but suspicious looking bitch" rat man and i love it so so so much. i'm not gonna repost their art bc i don't know how they feel about that but perhaps you can search up "svsss designs" on here, you'll see it pop up eventually lol.

edit 2 (1/16): i just saw someone reblog a post (that im pretty sure was referring to this one because, well, if you saw it i think it'd be a little clear kahxj) that was about how bingqiu switching and completely eschewing traditional top/bottom dynamics was a fandom idea or smth? so now i'm wondering, since i swear i remember that they were open to switching, but it's just that sqq preferred to bottom and/or was just a little too lazy to top. plus, sqq is a pretty unreliable narrator who says he doesn't want something one moment and then he does. how could he say no to bingbing? esp if he seems to wanna try bottoming too. perhaps i'm mixing things up though, idk? so if anyone can find that passage that says he only and strictly wants to bottom or whatever please show me! but i think the point of this post still stands haha (i wanted to ask about it, actually, but when i clicked on the og post's user it turned out that they blocked me ? so that was a little surprising oops. hey if ur somehow reading this, im... sorry for making you want to block me bc of this post? akdhxjj)

#JOIN THE 'STOP TWINKIFYING SQQ' GROUP #did i make sense? i have no clue i just wanted to rant about this #i really pulled a cucumber bro there huh #this also applies to GL #thinking about it more #there should be trans men and women bl and gl #and not in a fetishy way #of course luo binghe is still the big strong protag and taller than sqq but come on #i dont believe luo binghe is a twink exactly?? maybe?? but just feminine in a historical chinese male ideals way #for edit 2:#i was just saying how it made me happy that mxtx didn't follow the yaoi archetypes and how i lov her for it <3 #never said bingqiu was never done before and COMPLETELY flipped it over skdhjx #but i do believe that bingqiu did a good job providing variety and such :)#same goes for mxtx's other works as well i love her stuff sm #svsss #mxtx svsss #the scum villain's self saving system #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #luo bingge #shen yuan #luo bingmei #bingqiu #luo binghe x shen qingqiu #danmei

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sourholland · 5 months

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based off of taylor swift’s song style

a/n → well i bet some people didn’t expect this story to be updated again, however here i am and here it is. this is chapter 4. what mostly inspired me to try and finish this series is the continuous love i have received through it. there were a lot of people who told me how much they enjoy it and who am i to deny them. however i know that it’s been a year since i’ve updated this so if you want off of the taglist because of disinterest, please let me know!!! same goes for wanting to be on the taglist, just lmk 🩵

summary → he’s the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals, a worldwide heartthrob with an ego the size of lake erie—but does he have the heart to match it? you’re the bengals newest cheerleader, desperate to prove how much you deserve your spot on the team. it doesn’t take much to catch the eye of joe burrow, however that isn’t necessarily a good thing when you’re told that any romantic relations between cheerleaders and players is strictly prohibited.

warnings → strong language, nsfw content

word count → 3.4k

reblog and leave some comments if you enjoy!!!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter 4

“He’s fucking obsessed with you,” Sydney reasoned with you, listening to you finally debrief everything that had gone on between you and Joe over the last few weeks. “If you seriously start with all of this self-sabotage bullshit, I’m gonna kill you.”

Lena sat criss cross on the floor, silent and turning over the information you had given her carefully. Sydney was sitting on the couch beside you, knees pulled up to her chest as she spooned more ice cream into her mouth. It had been days since you slept over at Joe’s and besides a few text conversations and fleeting glances at the stadium, nothing more had happened between the two of you.

“She’s right,” Lena finally chimed in, her mass of curls held up in a claw clip she’d stolen from you during freshman year. “He’s obsessed.”

With a roll of your eyes, you turned over dramatically and buried your face into the throw pillow on your couch and screamed into it. If he was so obsessed, why hadn’t he called? Maybe because you completely overreacted after seeing one text on his phone like a psycho bitch, you thought to yourself begrudgingly. He probably thought you were crazy and territorial over guys you weren’t even with.

“I think I ruined it when I left the bar,” you sighed, considering screaming into the pillow again like a child.

“Oh my god, shut up. Men are so simple and literally do not care about stuff like that, I’m telling you. If he told you he let it go, he let it go. There’s no reason to overthink it,” Sydney assured you with a half-full mouth of chocolate ice cream. “Do you remember when I was fucking with Josh sophomore year and found out he was still hooking up with that one girl on the lacrosse team? Lily or whatever the fuck her name was–whatever, not the point–but do you remember when I deadass asked the front desk of our dorm building for a pair of scissors and walked a mile to where his car was parked and slashed three of his tires. Yeah, well he still hits me up. Men do not give a fuck.”

Lena had begun clutching her stomach in fits of laughter, rolling onto her back and shaking her head with tears prickling the corners of her eyes. You clapped a hand over your mouth, kicking Sydney and recalling how feral the three of you had been during your freshman and sophomore year. Moments like these made you wish the three of you were already living together again, as you had the prior three years. Well, Sydney shared a suite with you and Lena sophomore year and the three of you got an apartment junior year. After you told your parents that you planned to stay in Cincinnati after graduation, they knew you would need a place and gave you your graduation present early–a down payment on an apartment and your first month's rent.

Cheering with the Bengals and substitute teaching on the side allowed you to save a little, but most of your money went towards bills. Lena and Sydney were planning to move in and split the cost three ways as soon as your prior lease was up. They had agreed to take on your portion of rent when you moved out of your previous apartment two months ago, knowing they wouldn’t have to put any money away for the down payment when they did move in with you. They still had about three weeks left until the lease was up, but you had all spent weeks packing up the other apartment slowly but surely. There were enough rooms for each of you to get your own, one was just significantly smaller than the other two. Lena had volunteered to take the space immediately, claiming she didn’t mind the lack of closet space or squeaky door.

Lena never had it in her to mind anything like that, she always just brushed it off and said it didn’t bother her one bit. She told you she was just excited to live with her two sisters, making you cry on the spot and tell her how much you appreciated her. Sydney would have taken the small room, she just wouldn’t have been happy about it and somehow both you and Lena knew she would find closet space one way or another.

“I can’t wait for Joe Burrow to be sitting in my kitchen,” said Lena, letting Sydney spoon ice cream into her mouth now. “Or what about when you guys are fucking–”

“Lena!” You took the pillow you had been yelling into and pressed it into your flaming cheeks.

“Okay wait, answer honestly and don’t be modest. How big?” she swallowed, clasping her hands together in front of her, ready to inch them apart. “Tell me when to stop.”

“You’re both insufferable!”

Lena, however, only continued to move her hands apart from each other with wide eyes when you still hadn’t said to stop. She hit the solid length, you nearly wheezed the word out with tears freely streaming down your face as all three of you clutched your abdomens in hysterics and girlish giggles.

“Do you need a third or what?” Sydney joked, already having pulled Joe’s Instagram up to stalk for the millionth time.

“Obviously,” you gave her a playful once over and winked, sending the three of you into fits of laughter again.

⋆------------⋆

Practices leading up to the next preseason game against the Giants were brutal. Coaches were through with putting up with excuses and mistakes, leaving most of you on the team crying by the end of the night. When they wanted you to suffer, you suffered. Some of the senior girls who had been cheering with the team for a few years tried their best to ease the anxieties of the less-veteraned girls.

Everything hurt, all the time. Your back and legs mostly, but the soreness in your thighs and glutes made even warmups painful.

“Y/N!” Coach Traci’s voice bellowed. “What are you doing with your arms? How many times have I told you that if you can’t get this, I’m moving you back for our sideline dance sequences so you’re less visible?”

“Multiple times,” your voice came out as a little more than an embarrassed squeak. “I’m sorry, Coach.”

“Don’t be sorry, be better.”

You had to get your mind straight, shaking off the criticism and putting everything into the next time you ran the dance. Coach Traci nodded at you, the only acknowledgement of improvement that you would get for tonight. After the shitshow that was the Cardinals game, you knew better than to balk or disrespect anyone during practices. Everyone was strung out and tired, it was during a water break when you realized Joe was perched in his usual spot, headphones around his neck and running through some easy sprints.

Good fucking god, had he heard your scolding? The thought brought you back to high school, the feeling of getting a question blatantly wrong in front of your crush or being reprimanded in front of the class for talking too loudly during a lesson. That same flutter of uneasiness left you feeling uncomfortable within your own skin, distracted again but pushing the thoughts aside in order not to repeat the whole embarrassing ordeal.

Joe was doing his absolute best job of casually sitting in on as many cheer practices as possible. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble for either of you, but he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t using the fact that he is who he is to do his workouts wherever he wanted around the facility without a second glance from anyone. There were very few people meandering around, telling Joe what to do. With his injury, he was just now getting back into light conditioning and drill work so it wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to remain at the stadium to workout after practice had ended. He was watching from the sidelines most practices, occasionally being able to do a few workouts and passing the football around while everyone ran plays.

He would take advantage of the opportunity to watch you while it was the most inconspicuous.

Practice unsurprisingly went late. Joe had disappeared back inside at some point, to finally go home you assumed. Once you were heaving and your body felt like pure jelly, you were finally allowed to go and grab your things and head in to shower. There were two text messages from Joe, delivered fifteen minutes prior.

Joe: Text me when you’re done

Joe: Actually do you wanna do what you gotta do and meet me in our locker room??

This boy is genuinely idiotic if he thinks you’re just waltzing into the team locker room, facility still far from emptied out. You ignored the messages until you got into your own locker room, sitting on a bench and shaking your head at his idea once again. Joe had absolutely nothing to lose here, that much was obvious from the start. You were a completely different story, though.

Y/N: Joe omg

Y/N: There are cameras everywhereeeeeeeee

Y/N: Can you just call me later?

Joe: No

Joe: Just go around the long way, don’t take the hall Emily’s office is on and come around from the other side.

When you didn’t respond right away, he texted again.

Joe: The security camera isn’t facing the door, it’s facing who comes down that main hallway

Joe: I swear no one is gonna see you, the cameras will literally only get you taking a different hallway to walk out of the building and we can leave out of different doors

Y/N: You’re actually insane

Y/N: How do you even know what ways the camera faces???

Joe: I just walked out of the locker room and looked

Joe: I basically walked the whole thing, everyone went home

Joe: Obviously not your team but yk what I mean, your coaches office is on the complete other side of the building

Y/N: Go home, Joe :)

Joe: Please

Your thumbs hovered over the letters ‘N’ and ‘O’, but there was a part of you that couldn’t deny how excited the idea of seeing him again made you. The sneaking around had your gut twisting in a way that had all of your rational thoughts going right out the door. You’re pathetic, you told yourself as you glanced over your shoulder to make sure no one watched you type your next message.

Y/N: You need to see me so bad that you’re saying please?

Joe: Desperately

Y/N: Oh you’re good lmao

Joe: So I’ll see you in fifteen

Liking the message, you put your head in your hands for a moment and huffed a laugh as you finally turned on the shower and stripped yourself of the now sweaty practice clothes. Most of the girls showered at home after night practices, so only a few remained readying to leave. You took your time, double shampooing and ensuring as many people as possible had departed from the practice facility.

“Good night, girl!” Carolina called out, walking out the door and leaving only you.

“Night, Carol!”

With shaky breaths, you brushed your wet hair once again and looked into the mirror. You had no makeup on and wore shorts and a Bengals hoodie now, which did nothing for your confidence as you walked out of the locker room with your bag in hand and cast your eyes downward. In your attempts to look unsuspicious, you took the long back hallway that wrapped around the inside of the stadium. There was the muffled sound of the janitors' speakers, but they were far from where you were and each office and support center looked desolate and left for the night.

The door to the players’ locker room was slightly ajar, leaving you to glance around again and double check Joe’s camera assessment. He was right, there was a camera on the end of the hallway, but it faced the opposite direction and caught whoever took the main entrance inside of this part of the building. Quickly, you slipped into the much nicer locker room and shut the door behind you.

“That was twenty-five minutes,” Joe’s voice sounded from behind you.

“This is a stupid idea,” you cast him a playfully annoyed glance and locked the door behind you, turning to find him in shorts and a black T-shirt. “You’re a really bad influence, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” he walked towards you with such ease that you wouldn’t have believed he was just bed-ridden from surgery. His fingers found the hem of your hoodie, smirking down at you in his usual arrogantly charming manner. “I’m still glad you came, though. Even if I compromise your moral judgment so badly.”

He is so fucking hot, you thought as he continued fiddling with your sweatshirt. How is it possible to have this much sex appeal? How is it humanly possible for anyone to resist a look like his? Your entire body was on fire, swallowing hard and wondering once again how you wound up here with him.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed. “I know I keep saying that and you’re probably sick of it. It’s true, though.”

The pads of his thumb and index finger brushed your bare torso, the circular motion leaving you breathing a bit heavier. His touch was less feverish than usual, more gentle and fleeting like he wanted you to know how much he wanted you. Hardly blinking, you let the tense silence guide you towards him in a way that left you practically flush against each other. Joe’s breathing hitched, giving you those sultry bedroom eyes and stupid smirk.

This time it was you who could no longer resist, kissing him softly as if to say that you, too, could not stop thinking of him. He slid his arms around your lower back, allowing you to wrap yours around his neck. Your back arched slightly at the long kiss, his right hand lowering to grab your ass and squeeze. He somehow maneuvered the two of you farther into the locker room between open-mouth, breathy kisses. Your back collided with the wall to the right of the sequence of open lockers, his mouth on your neck and biting gently at the skin of your collarbone.

He pulled your hoodie off, throwing it somewhere behind him. Your fingers found his hair, tugging as he marked your chest up ravenously. A problem for later, you pushed the thought away and let your head roll to the side as he palmed both of your breasts through the fabric of your sports bra, occasionally leaving a hum of pleasure against the soft skin between your breasts. He kissed down your stomach and held you roughly by one hip, sinking to his knees looking up at you asking permission.

“Did you know this was going to happen when you texted me?” You teased, still holding onto him by his hair.

“When I texted you,” he started, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I prayed to god that this would happen, but I figured you were gonna tell me to fuck off.”

With a playful shove of his head, you looked away with blazing skin and blown pupils. Joe pulled down your shorts in one quick motion, running his hands down your hips and thighs with a lustful expression. He kissed you over the fabric of your underwear, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. There was no denying the arousal dripping from you, wetting your panties, leaving Joe to raise an eyebrow and flash you an egotistical grin. A breathy moan escaped you and he stopped, causing a near-whimper to come from you.

“Quiet, baby,” he chided softly, “I need you to be quiet or we’re both fucked.”

The fact that he had called you baby was something to dissect tomorrow, you only inhaled sharply at his words. He looked up at you again with hair falling over his forehead, “can you be quiet for me?”

If he kept looking at you like that, you would do just about anything for him. You gave him a nod and he kneaded the flesh of your thigh now, finally pulling your underwear down and discarding them carelessly. He wrapped your right leg around his shoulder, on his knees before you.

“Can’t say that I’m complaining at this sight, right where you belong,” you whispered, cheekily.

“You’re hilarious,” he rolled his eyes and pinched your backside. “I’m on my knees for you anytime, just say the word.”

He didn’t give you even a second to respond, tonguing you with such desperation that your toes curled the second he put his mouth on you. Your slick had already coated his mouth and chin, his tongue running between your folds as his nose brushed the bundle of nerves. You struggled to keep quiet, eyes squeezing shut as you rocked your hips into his mouth and relished in each breathy moan that escaped him and reverberated against your center.

His thumb went to your clit, rubbing feverishly at the bud and watching you turn to putty in his hands. Your legs began to shake violently, wondering how much longer you could stand the tight coiling in your belly. One of your hands remained in his hair, the other gripped the hard wall for any semblance of steadying as he devoured you.

He grunted against you, picking up his pace and letting his hands explore as you bit back each and every sound you wished to make. He steadied you as you came undone, panting and unable to move or see. Stars clouded your vision, black spots causing you to close your eyes and breathe for a moment as you regained feeling of your body again.

The handle of the door shook, someone was trying to get in.

“Fuck,” you whispered at Joe, who was already carefully dropping your leg and reaching back to grab your shorts and hoodie.

You slid the shorts on, throwing the hoodie over your head and letting Joe silently lead you farther back into the locker room where the showers were. He gave you a look that said to sit tight and make no noise. He didn’t look nearly as nervous as you, legs still gelatin and causing you to have to lean back against the wall to ensure your balance.

“Anyone in there?” A man’s voice sounded, muffled slightly from the distance now between you and the door.

“Yeah!” Joe called out as casually as possible, he sauntered over to the door and flicked the lock and opened it. A janitor stood before him, cart beside him to clean. “Hey, Phil. I stayed late tonight, I don’t know why I locked the door. Must’ve been a reflex.”

Phil nodded slowly, he looked into the locker room and saw it all emptied out. Joe rubbed the back of his neck, swallowing and waiting for the man to say something. Phil only coughed and averted his eyes when he saw the lilac underwear balled up on the floor. He met Joe’s eyes and muttered that he’d come back around once he left, but not to be more than ten more minutes. Joe gave him a gracious thanks and sighed in relief as the man retreated down the hallway and brought his cart into another room, shutting the door behind him and turning his radio up considerably louder than he’d ever heard him play it.

“You can come out now,” he said, turning around and seeing the panties on the ground. He had no clue if Phil had seen them, but he also had no doubt that Phil was no busybody or gossip at his ripe age of at least seventy.

“Do I get to keep these?” He asked as you came out from the showers, holding them up and smirking.

“Did I or did I not say that this was a stupid idea?”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

once again, let me know to be taken off of or added to the taglist

taglist - @humannoodlesoup @nikkisimps @teasandcrumpets @chmpgnnlace @hummusxx @rivivie @madsblogsstuff @nngkay @raeofsunshine629 @siutforjjmaybank @alternativemadchen @ryiamarie @ohreggieboy @coldheartedmar @obsessed-fan-alert @buckystwilight @dessxoxsworld @manic-pixie-bitch2 @hallecarey1 @heyitskay-21 @joselyn001 @stylesyourmine @toterry @countryday @adventuremood @blu3jeanbaby @sriusun @mikeyspinkcup @kittyhorror777 @riverdalexvixens @hornyforherbert @nhlbabes @unsaidjaelinrose @joselyn001 @littlelou22

#joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smut #joe burrow imagines #joe shiesty #joe burrow angst #joe burrow x yn #joe burrow blurb #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow fic

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toji-bunny-girl · 9 months

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𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐌★𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

White flakes trickle down from the sky, the snow-layered grass crunch underneath your steps, your footprint lucid in the snowy white land. You’re in the cold woods with dry trees and hibernating mammals—soon finding yourself in front of a little cozy tavern that emanates charcoal warmth through the chimney. Your hand rise to knock on the door, wishing for a shelter from the perpetual cold. The door creaks open…

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐘’𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐍 . . . !

THE TAVERN RULES—

The tavern only serves customers who are 18 and above, anyone younger than that will be kicked out and blacklisted!

Interact by liking, replying or reblogging if you wish to be served with the following dishes.

Strictly no copying our tavern’s dishes!

THE MENU— by chef @toji-bunny-girl

࿇ SANTA’S PRESENT . . . feat. Gojo Satoru

Supposedly another Christmas night being lonely and horny, you’re suddenly woken up by Santa coming to claim you your Christmas gift.

࿇ GRINCH’S BITCH . . . feat. Toji Fushiguro

The thief of Christmas joy, the thief of children's gifts, and this time, the thief of your boyfriend's slutty Christmas surprise

࿇ CHRISTMAS FOR YOU . . . feat. Getou Suguru

An annual game of playful Secret Santa somehow turns to having your best friend, Getou’s face burled deep in your cunt?!

#BUNN—nsfw #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #kinkmas #kinkmas masterlist #toji smut #toji x reader #gojo satoru #toji fushiguro #getou x reader #geto x reader #getou smut #geto smut #gojou x reader #gojou smut

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cpericardium · 5 months

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So! I've gotten a host of messages and asks regarding recent disk horse and I wanted to address them as a collective.

I know I have anon asks off, I won't share your URLs, but I do want to thank you for asking and clarifying some of the frankly vile things people have been saying about me, my girlfriend, and friends. I value those of you who offered your words of support, and didn't jump to believe screenshots taken out of context and lies written with the utmost confidence and none of the facts. I am a little tired of having my morals questioned and my views conflated with every single person I associate with, but there it goes.

tumblr user cpericardium suspiciously silent on the subject of Gaza: does this mean you support ethnic cleansing???

My reticence when it comes to posting about topics like I/P is because:

-This is a fandom blog intended for lighter topics, except maybe the occasional vent about life stuff, which I usually hide under a cut. I don't have sideblogs. They seem tough to maintain and I don't post nearly enough to justify it. If I were to make one it would be for another fandom or maybe just the freakier bugs. I simply prefer my social media experience to be stress-free.

-Anti-slacktivism. It's a documented thing: posting about an issue makes you feel like you're doing something, you get that little shot of dopamine, so you don't actually go out and do something that effects meaningful change. I'm trying to do less of that. I'm good with the friends and people I follow who choose to post about it and this is a strictly personal belief, but when I engage in activism, it is offline or it is a donation. You're not going to hear about it.

But don't you reblog lgbt and women's rights posts?

Yeah, and that's usually when I want to save a post for one reason or another (e.g. to talk about with someone on discord later). The bottom line is that the main purpose of my blog is not to post political takes or to spread awareness of anything. It is just a collection of my interests (fan stuff, bugs) and hopefully a way to share those interests with like-minded people.

I will state my views clearly for the record: I support Palestine. The ongoing genocide is heartbreaking and so is the violence against protestors. Additionally, I am against antisemitism and the harassment of Jewish people in the name of supporting Palestine. This shouldn't even need to be said.

Is your girlfriend a Zionist?

No.

Does she support Zionists?

No.

Wasn't she in the military?

Yes, years ago.

But the military is evil?

It is. She's extremely hardcore anti-war and anti-military, does not believe the US should even have an army, and actively PMs strangers on reddit to try to convince them to not make the same mistake. If they're dead set anyway, she gives them detailed advice on how to survive. Because she actually cares about the human cost of war, not the social clout gained from shunning or sneering at people who make wrongheaded choices. I have seen her doing this, seen her seeking to understand their reasons for joining so she can systematically explain—from personal experience!—why they're not going to get any of that out of the army. It is a hell of a lot more effective than bitching them out or writing callout posts or starting whisper campaigns about them. She cannot delete those years of her life no matter how much she regrets them. There is only forward. I think we can all agree on that.

But what about all those things she said. "I regret nothing, I have no qualms, VA nipple money etc."

Well you have to understand that while of generally upright character, she is a bit of a scamp. She believes she fundamentally should not have to explain herself to randos who do not know her, who have never, not once, interacted with her, who are clearly digging for dirt and will twist anything she says no matter how banal. People see what they want to see and they look for evidence to reinforce their preconceptions; they'll go so far as to make alts to join servers, cherry-pick screencaps, crop them, and conveniently fill in the rest of the narrative for curious onlookers. So she decided to exaggerate and amplify and twirl her mustache like a supervillain. Give them a show, as it were.

To be clear, I'm not sold on this strat because it makes her look cartoonishly evil to people who can't understand sarcasm and hyperbole. But her friends and I are aware of her actual beliefs from actually talking with her for more than one (1) second instead of immediately believing two mysteriously cropped screencaps from a thirdhand source, and also aware that she did not in fact do those things people imagine she did. And isn't that what matters? Real-life harm? Do you even care?

Re: screenshots/so-called proof from shakertwelve & lakesbian's "callouts"

Girlfriend addresses them here. I will also note they have spread lies about me and other people before.

#politics #wormblr #if you're not from wormblr and aren't aware #nothin to see here just scroll past

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 year

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Family ✨

Summary; You're the nanny to Eddie's adorable little boy Kit, Feelings have grown between Eddie and you despite him being your employer.

Throw in ex-wife drama, nights spent in Eddie's arms and your love for him growing stronger every day and it's all a big mess.

Eddie is 40, the reader is in her 20's

Warnings; Older Eddie, Nanny reader, fluff, a little bit of Smut, 18+ Minors dni, bitchy ex-wife, feelings of not being good enough. More fluff.

Part 2 is in the making if my readers want it, featuring a heavily pregnant reader waiting to give birth, anxious, overprotective Eddie and Kit excited to be a big brother to his baby sister ❤️

I don't give anyone permission to copy, reuse or repost my work.

If you enjoyed this pls consider liking, reblogging, etc. ❤️✨

❤️

Eddie Munson was the sexiest man you had ever met.

He was also the most unattainable, your little crush on him was kept under wraps for most part.

You were the nanny to the sweet boy he had adopted three years ago called Kit and for the first year of your employment Eddie was married.

The marriage was... It was unhappy and hanging on by a thread, it was like Eddie and Ivy barely knew much about each other at all.

Turns out that a three-month relationship and a drunk elopement in Vegas summed up the length of the two of them being together.

When you heard the two of them argue, Eddie trying his best to hide it but Ivy wanting everyone to hear their fights) you would distract Kit, a trip to the park, the zoo or painting in the garden.

You didn't like Ivy one bit, she was rude and demeaning to you if Eddie wasn't around, and threatened to fire you if you talked back or told Eddie.

She called you names and treated Kit like he was an afterthought, knew all about your crush on Eddie and told you he would never date you in a million years. You hated the woman.

Fortunately, Eddie's friend Nancy and her husband Steve had no qualms about informing Eddie what a bitch Ivy was.

For the most part you were strictly professional with Eddie but it was getting harder to maintain that professionalism.

Especially when he started giving signs that he was enamoured with you too.

His divorce from his wife was raging on in the background but it was hard to notice when Eddie gave you long lingering stares, touches that went on for longer than usual.

Even before the divorce, he was gentle and sweet with you, always making sure you were okay, his big brown eyes full of concern.

He was protective of you, when Ivy's barbs had gotten to you badly one time you had decided to date to try and forget Eddie.

For some reason, Eddie disliked your date Tom from the minute they met. His overprotectiveness went into overdrive and he was always super tense when Tom was around.

He wasn't jealous, that was wishful thinking you told yourself, however, you were starting to rethink that.

There was tension in the air that grew stronger and stronger every day and over three weeks ago, it had exploded into a night of mind-blowing sex.

Eddie made the first move and it was the incredible.

Since then the two of you would steal time together, moments in the shower, Eddie sneaking you into his bedroom at night, long hours together if Kit was with Wayne or Steve and Nancy.

Sometimes you would spend hours talking and you found yourself falling even deeper for him, he was soft with you, tender at times and it made you wonder if he felt the same.

He opened up to you about his relationship with Ivy, how it was fine at first but like most of his relationships there was little emotional connections or feelings and it made him feel empty.

The marriage was a drunken mistake but Ivy would blackmail her way into Eddie staying with her.

The divorce finally happening was cathartic for him.

Even though the nights you spent with Eddie were amazing it was little moments, talking all night, learning about each other more, hanging out together with Kit in tow that you enjoyed so much.

It's those nights when you fell even deeper for Eddie.

❤️

Kit was excited, he was happily telling you all about him and Uncle Wayne's big plans for their weekend together.

"Uncle Wayne, says we can have popcorn, hot chocolate and a movie night" He's delighted at this.

When Wayne comes to pick him up he's excitedly talking about which movies they can watch.

Wayne gives you a big smile as Kit rushes over to hug you goodbye and then hurries over to Eddie.

"Daddy, can I take my guitar?" the guitar was a little thing and pride and joy of Kit, he was like his daddy with how much he loved his guitar.

Watching them play together, Eddie patiently teaching his boy how to play was the sweetest thing you had ever seen.

When Kit and Wayne leave it's just you and Eddie and he wastes no time pulling you into his arms and kissing you.

"Fuck, I've been waiting all day to do this" he moans and trails his lips over to your neck.

The worries that you've been feeling fade away as you unbutton his shirt, hands trailing over his lean, muscular arms, his tattoos.

With one more kiss, he takes your hand and leads you upstairs.

❤️

The divorce had been finalised and Ivy had let her self over to the house to pick up the rest of her things.

Seeing her wasn't exactly the highlight of your day but you just wanted to get this over with.

Eddie was at work and you were busy writing for the paper you worked for in your downtime, so you hoped this was over quickly.

The pinched look on her face and sneer was enough to cause the bits of self esteem you built to plummet to the ground.

"Where's the brat?" she snaps and you glare at her, god you despised this woman.

"Kit isn't a brat. He's a wonderful little boy and I pity you that you can't see that. He's napping just now, so keep your voice down"

Ivy smirks. "Aww is the hired help giving orders now? You think you're some big shot because Eddie is fucking you?" she points to the hickey on your neck that your concealer didn't quite cover up.

"Why don't you get your stuff and get out of here" you suggest annoyed.

"Don't worry, I don't want to spend one more second in here. Just telling you a few home truths since your too naive to see it. You're just a convenient fuck to Eddie darling, I mean fucking the nanny? Cliche much?"

The words hurt but you try not to let it show, Ivy is like a shark when it senses blood and she goes in for the kill.

"You're a stupid girl, you think you mean anything more to Eddie? That he won't want to do better? Does he show you off to everyone? Does anyone know about you? No. Because he's embarrassed sweetie. You're a dirty little secret"

Ivy picks up her bag with a smirk on her face.

"Can't tell you how glad I am to get out of this mess" she says as she leaves and you shut the door fuming but with a sinking feeling that she's right.

❤️

You're quiet, too quiet over dinner and Eddie notices this. He also notices when you retire to bed early and barely look his way.

Hiding the fact that you're heartbroken is hard, hiding the fact that you cried yourself to sleep over Ivy's mostly accurate description of you and Eddie is even harder.

You felt like an idiot for hoping Eddie might fall in love with you too and you knew you deserved better than being a dirty little secret.

It's hard to avoid Eddie though because once he's home from work and Kit is in bed avoiding him is impossible.

Hearing him read to Kit, doing different voices and acting out scenes makes you smile. The two of them completely own your heart, you love watching them together.

The ache in your heart grows and you startle out of your thoughts as Eddie comes out of Kit's room.

"You've been avoiding me, sweetheart?" Eddie murmurs and it actually sounds like he's pained by this.

"Why does it bother you? We're just sex, aren't we? You're embarrassed by us and that's why we hide this because it doesn't mean anything to you" you murmur.

Eddie's eyes widen. "Where the hell is this coming from?" you shrug.

"Doesn't matter. It's true isn't it?" Before he can say anything else, Kit asks for some water and you rush downstairs to get him some.

Avoiding the inevitable of Eddie telling you he doesn't feel the same.

❤️❤️

Turns out though that Eddie doesn't want to leave it like that and once you've got Kit water and wished him goodnight, Eddie asks you speak to you.

"Hey, what's going on princess? You've been distant. Just tell me what's wrong please?" your lip wobbles as you remember Ivy's words.

"Ivy came around yesterday to collect her stuff. She was her usual wonderful self, said some things"

Eddie strokes your cheek tenderly, his eyes flashing.

"What things baby?" you rattle off the list of what she said and Eddie grows more and more irate.

"I'm so in love with you sweetheart. How do you not see that? I love you so much, I want my life to be with you" tears roll down your cheeks.

"Ivy said... what she said made me upset, put all those ideas in my head" Eddie swears.

"Bitch, fucking good riddance to her" he growls and gently kisses your forehead.

"She doesn't know anything, I love you, I adore you and in no way am I embarrassed by you. You're warm, funny, sweet, and beautiful. I'm so lucky, Kit and I are so lucky to have you in our life"

The anxiety eases and he sighs contentedly as you kiss.

"And really? You think no one knows? Why do you think Nancy, Steve and Uncle Wayne offer to babysit so much? They adore you. Let's go out to dinner tomorrow yeah? Me, you and Kit, as a family"

A family you beam and he kisses you again.

❤️

#eddie munson x reader #older eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader

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sinsandsweetness · 1 year

Text

drunk tank- part 2

cw- vulgar language, drug and alcohol use, slight angst and pining for the reader, references to sexual acts. about 2.6k words that aren’t proofread:/ sorry loves.

notes- i started writing and i don’t know what happened. hopefully you guys don’t hate it? way more plot than i intended but… much smutty goodness to come, i promise (no pun intended)

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! i live for your feedback and love hearing your opinions <3

Fuck.

You don’t even want to look around the house. You already know it’s gonna be a fucking mess. You can hear it. Feel it. Hell, you can smell it. Booze and weed and sex. Sweaty bodies packed into a 3 bedroom trailer on the wrong side of town. Coke on the bathroom counter that’ll have you wishing you’d never let Merle move in in the first place.

You stop at the end of the driveway, wondering whether you should even go in. Or if you should get back in the taxi and tell him to take you away and never come back. Go work at some diner in the middle of butt fuck nowhere. Leave everyone else behind.

But Daryl’s face flashes through your mind. You can’t do that to him. Not after all he’s been through.

Growing up with the Dixons was a bit of a challenge. Merle being well… Merle. You and Daryl always ending up in some kind of dangerous and even disturbing situation. Creeps who smelled of Jack Daniel’s, with wandering hands and no sense of personal space. Having to put on a smile for Merle who desperately needed to finish the deal before you could even think about sneaking off to the truck. You were leverage. Sometimes even Daryl. Though you knew he hated it. Fried hair, rotting teeth, meth head bitches who thought he was trash enough to stoop that low. He wasn’t. Or at least he didn’t want to be.

You should go inside and find him. Get him to drive you to Shane’s to spend the night. It’s not like you’ll get any sleep tonight with this ruckus going on. Not after the shift you just had. And you’ve learned to really love Shane’s middle class, suburban townhouse with a California king and a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom. It was… different. Unfamiliar. A perfect little escape from the chaos of your typical day to day life. Of your piece of shit trailer that’s already falling apart and definitely wouldn’t pass a health inspection no matter what kind of construction worker you were to hook up with.

Besides, Shane was a good fuck. Not that that’s all that matters in a relationship. It’s not. Merle was a good fuck too. You’re not that hard to please. But Shane is sexy. Charismatic. He treats you like a Princess. And honestly… as much as Daryl makes fun of you for it… you’re starting to really like him. He pays for meals. Takes you out. Isn’t afraid to show you off or introduce you to his friends. And, the biggest part; he’s safe. Steady. A fucking cop for Christ sake. So much different than the guys you’ve been with before. You weren’t at risk of any stray needles or guns when you stayed at his place. The only gun he kept at home stayed locked up in his office and is used strictly for emergencies.

And his sheets are clean and his fridge is full and his best friend is a hunk who happens to be going through some minor marital issues that you can’t say you’re not excited about. For once in your life, things are starting to look up.

Well… not from where you’re standing. Dreading the pounding bass and music that you can already hear pouring out of the windows. Praying that Merle had the decency to lock your bedroom door, but it was unlikely. You pulled a blanket over his passed out body on the couch before you left for work, so the likelihood of him remembering what you gently whispered in his ear was extremely slim.

Be safe. Lock my door. Don’t do anything stupid.

He clearly hadn’t heard you. Or if he did, he didn’t listen. Because the sounds and smells coming from the house as you walk barefoot on the gravel with your heels in your hand are proving to be the latter.

The door is open. Coats and purses thrown about. Stares from the girl and the guy flirting away in the front entrance. Red solo cups in their hands presumably filled with whatever the cheapest keg that your ex could find at the value liquor across the diner. At least that’s what you have to assume. Cheap beer. Sticky and sweaty and- holy shit.

It’s Daryl. On the couch, with a girl.

It’s no surprise that he’s over. It’s not like he has any other place to stay.

It’s the girl on his lap that has you stopping in your tracks. Bright blonde hair and fishnets straddling his thigh. Blowing smoke onto his, thankfully, annoyed and unimpressed expression. She’s almost naked. That’s why you’re so shocked. It’s not like Daryl has ever had an issue getting with girls. But the fact that her skirt looks like a belt and there aren’t even any panties under her tights… well It’s just… a bit of an eye sore if you were honest.

He catches your gaze. The sight of you rolling your eyes at the pathetic little show in front of you. Turning down the hallway and knowing he’s probably already shoving her off and jogging to catch up right behind you. Down the hall and to your room where you’re unsurprisingly forced to kick a couple of sleeping stoners out of your bed. At least they still have their clothes on. Most of them anyway.

“Who was that?” You ask, not turning around but hearing the door latch and lock behind you. Daryl’s smokey, leather scent coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

He knows better.

“No one,” he mumbles into your neck, his breath smelling of the rum and coke he chugged and threw to the side before chasing you down the hall.

You can’t help the way you shake him off. He’s drunk for Christ’s sake. Not like he didn’t have a warm and willing body out there on the sofa. Probably desperate to get any of her slutty holes filled and fucked by your childhood best friend.

You slump down onto the bed. Unmade and definitely not from you. The thought makes you wince.

You run a hand over your face and think about the clean smell of pine sol and laundry detergent that now reminds you of the handsome, dark haired officer you’ve recently gotten to know.

Daryl sits down beside you. A nervous tic in his hands as he picks at his cuticle. Unsure of what to say or what to do. It’s not like he should feel bad. He was right, she is no one to him. He won’t even remember her name in the morning. But he still feels a twang of guilt. Wishing you hadn’t seen her string covered cunt grinding on his thigh in the middle of the living room.

“Where are the keys to the Chevy?” You ask, ending the awkward silence brewing between the two of you.

“No way.”

“I’m sober, Dare. There’s no way I can sleep here. Plus I work a double in the morning. Just hand em over.” You turn to face him. He sees the bags under your eyes and knows he should just hand them over. Let you get some beauty rest in officer Walshes big and beautiful bed. Where he’ll be sure to fuck you right tonight and make you a delicious breakfast in the morning before sending you off with a kiss and tap on your perky little ass. But that’s also exactly the reason why he doesn’t want you to leave. He wants to be the one sharing your bed tonight. He wants to make you some scrambled eggs in the morning and drop you off at the diner. Him. Not some asshole cop that fucked you right in front of him at the station a month ago. Hard and fast and really fucking good. By the sounds you were making and the twisted look of pleasure written on your face, it was good. And even Daryl could see that.

“Stay here. Please.” Daryl's hand makes Its way to your thigh.

“Daryl-”

“Don’t. Don’t fuckin- don’t leave.” He’s pleading with you. Can’t stand the thought of you moaning and writhing underneath his burly competition.

“Please.” His voice cracks but you pretend not to hear.

You shake your head. You need a shot. And an Advil.

“I’ll just call Shane.” You reach for your bag, ready to wake the poor guy up to come grab you from the trailer you refuse to let him enter, let alone see. Guess you gotta deal with it tonight.

“Fine- hey-“ he reached for your bag. Stopping you from grabbing the phone you’re rummaging for. “I’ll drive you.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I had one drink. Seriously. Look at me.” You do it. Maintaining the heavy eye contact that’s burning into your irises. He’s telling the truth. You can see it. The way he’s holding your leg and the expression on his face. He’s always been a terrible liar.

“Okay. Thank you.” Your voice is quiet, hushed and you know you sound like a bitch. But you’re just really fucking tired.

He pulls you by the hand the whole way out to the door. Dodging the blondie from the couch and pushing your ex out of the way when he sees you, wide eyed and calling your name. Pupils blown and clearly coked out. Part of the reason he’s your ex. Among a plethora of other reasons you’d rather not get in to.

Merle’s truck sounds like shit. Stuttering a few times before it roars to life. A weird clicking from the glove box that you’re just too tired to check out. Smokes and a used condom thrown about the passenger side floor. Unsurprising but still disgusting.

You grab your phone and send Shane a text. Making sure it’s actually ok that you do crash for the night. Not that he’d ever say no. But you want to be polite.

Mind if I swing by? A bit crowded at mine.

It only takes him a few stoplights to answer.

Of course, Princess. You need a ride?

You answer immediately. Thumbs tapping fast on the tiny little buttons of your blackberry.

Nope:) 5 mins away.

Perfect. See you soon gorgeous

You can’t help the smile creeping up on your expression. Curling on your glossy lips and catching the attention of your best friend in the drivers seat.

“Pfft-” he rolls his eyes, turning the corner a little sharper than you’d like.

“Oh, shut it.” You snap back. Daryl has never liked any of your boyfriends. You don’t blame him. Most of them were real pieces of shit. Using you for your body. Your money. Not that you had much to spare.

Merle and you never dated. Just a couple drunk hookups that you didn’t enjoy.

Daryl never liked that either. Knowing his brother had seen the most sacred parts of you. Touched you and held you and watched your eyes screw shut as you came all over his cock.

Daryl wishes he could be the only one who’s ever seen that. The only one who knows the sounds you make when you’re close and the way you’re breath hitches when he kisses that spot on your stomach. It fucking kills him. Thinking about you gripping Shane’s dark hair while he discovers that same exact same spot. Going lower and lower until you’re squirming and writhing and-

“Dare?” You repeat. Grabbing the attention of the scowling young man who’s gripping the steering wheel like it’s about to fly away from him.

“Huh?”

“You missed the turn.”

“Shit, sorry.”

He circles around and shifts into park. Right across the street. The tree in Shane’s yard blocking the light from the front porch.

“Thanks,” you say dryly while reaching for the door handle. Ready to crawl into a warm bed. One where the only sound that enters your ears is the crickets in the backyard and the soft inevitable snoring from the handsome deputy holding you nice and close.

“Wait, just-” Daryl’s hand grabs your shoulder and pulls you pack. Snaking His hand around the back of your neck and crashing his lips against yours. Leaned right over the middle console to pull you in even closer. Tongue tracing your lips and deepening the kiss. The faint taste of tobacco and the familiar warmth of his mouth clouds your judgment. Kissing him back despite your relatively steady and semi-serious fling waiting for you on the other side of the red door across the street.

You pull away, eyes still closed and resting your forehead against his.

“Dare…”

“It’s fine.” He whispers. Nose nudging your own as he connects your lips for one last kiss that lingers just a couple seconds too long. A pained, broken look in his ocean eyes passes through when you finally pull away and scowl.

“Don’t. You can’t- you don’t get to do that.”

His jaw clenches and you’re sure he wants to spit some petty ass insult at you. Years of daddy issues and unresolved anger issues catching up to him with every little argument that crosses his path. But he finds it in himself to bite it back. Well not entirely. Just… a little less vulgar.

“Wear a condom,” he sneers, pulling away and falling back against the headrest. A deep sigh leaving his lungs as he chews on the inside of his lip. Already regretting his comment both due to the sheer cruelty of it but also because of the subtle admission of jealousy that he would fucking kill to have flown right above your head. It doesn’t. But the crimson painting his cheeks tells you he really fucking wishes it would. So for his sake, you ignore it and mutter a goodbye as you hop out and shut the car door. Heels clacking on the cement while you make your way to the front porch. Duffel bag in hand and a flutter of butterflies starting to swarm around in your belly.

You don’t even have to knock before the door opens and you’re met with the scent of a musky cologne and those beautiful brown eyes looking you up and down. Plaid pajama pants and a clean black tee shirt pulling you in for a quick embrace as he eyes the old Chevy still idling across the street, Daryl inside, ensuring you actually made it into the house.

“Hey, beautiful,” Shane kisses your cheek. Eyes still fixed on the man gazing over from the tinted truck window.

With a strong, guiding palm on the small of your back, you brush past the officer and head on in. Giving him a moment to set the alarm and lock the door behind you. Oblivious of the way Shane decides to wave at Daryl. Sending him a silent thank you for dropping you off all safe and sound. And maybe a very slight reminder of what he’s about to do to you as soon as that door closes.

And though he doesn’t see it, whether it’s from the tint of the truck or the clouds blocking the moon in the middle of the night, Daryl waves back. A pained, stomach dropping, shaky little wave that he didn’t even really want to return.

Daryl drives home as it starts to rain. Windshield wipers scraping on the cracked glass in front of him as his mind wanders, thinking about how nice it would be to stay in one of the nice, picket fence, suburban homes you’ve always wanted. Thinking about you in a big backyard, sipping on some white wine with a chunky little toddler on your hip. Your husband flipping some burgers and talking to the neighbors about football or the weather or the preschool you’ve been scouting.

It hurts his heart that in his little daydream, it’s not him who’s standing there barbecuing on that deck. It’s not him making small talk with your coworkers or reaching for the babbling little kid in your arms, asking for his daddy.

It’s Shane.

And for a split second, even though it physically hurts his heart. He knows that Shane can give that to you. And that, that simple little revelation is the whole reason he knows why he needed to wave back.

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peachesandcreames · 4 months

Text

What Are We? Pt. 4

A/N: Heavy on the angst with this one. Plane crash injuries. Vomit, blood and some vulgarity. Mentions of God, religion and atheism. That's everything, I think. As always all mistakes are my own and minors are strictly FORBODEN. You and you alone are responsible for your reading choices. Happy reading everyone 📚! Likes, hearts, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!! Much love ❤

Coyote's POV:

Somewhere in the California Desert:

Pain. That's the first thing that came to Coyote's mind as he unhooked himself from his deflated parachute. His left arm at an odd angle, he grimaced as he looked down at it. Definitely dislocated, possibly broken. This is going to hurt he thought as he braced himself against the jagged rock wall.

He braced himself as best as he could and painfully shoved his arm back into the socket. "Son of a bitch!" Echoed in the vast darkness as Coyote popped his arm back into place. He spit blood into the sand and looked around for any sign of Hangman. He finally spotted Jake's white parachute tangled in some trees and Coyote saw his limp body dangling from the treetops. He ran over to where Jake was and grabbed onto his booted foot and started shaking him.

"Shit, Jake. C'mon man, ya gotta wake up. Please. " Coyote leaned against the base of the tree and hung his head. He lowered himself onto the ground and leaned his head against Jake's foot and felt the despair begin to settle in.

Jake's POV:

Pain. His whole body wracked with pain and something or someone leaning on his leg. Excruciating pain shot through Jake's head as he tried to look and see who or what it was. He couldn't see anything so he kicked whoever or whatever it was and he heard a faint "ow." Coyote looked up just in time for Jake's foot to kick him in the head.

"What the fuck, man." Coyote yelped as he pulled himself up using Jake's long legs to help. "Get me down from here." Jake groaned as the pressure in his head erupted and he leaned over and emptied the contents of his stomach. "I think that I'm going to be sick," Javy whined.

"Don't be a pussy," Jake spat as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Javy tossed him his pocket knife as Jake cut himself from his harness and fell to the arid desert ground with a thud. Coyote helped untangle Jake from his parachute and shoved it back into the bag. Jake laid there for a second, the wind knocked out of him as he took stock of his injuries. His head was pounding like he had the worst hangover known to mankind.

His whole body ached bone deep, he felt like he had been run over and dragged by a semi truck over broken glass but I guess that's what happens when you crash your grade A military fighter jet going at top speed. He didn't think that anything was seriously wrong, he just hurt like hell. Possibly a concussion and broken ribs. But it could have been a lot worse, Jake didn't believe in God but by the grace of he and Javy were going to walk out of the desert alive and in one piece. Javy helped him to stand and slung one of Jake's arms over his shoulders and they started walking towards the crash site.

They limped towards the wreckage and stood together in stunned silence. They held onto each other as they stared at the crashed fighter jet and Javy dropped Jake's arm and scrambled over the smoking wreckage and started digging around. "What are you looking for, man? There's nothing left that can help us." Jake heard Javy exclaim triumphantly as he held something small and dark in color above his head. "It's the radio, it might still work. Let them know that we're ok and maybe I can give them our location."

Jake watched as Coyote fiddled with the radio, trying to get a signal. Jake shook his head and started to say that it was useless when he heard it crackle to life. "Command central, this is Lt. Javy Machado and Lt. Jake Seresin we had to eject before we could get coordinates for our last known location. Is anyone out there?" The radio crackled once and went silent and Coyote looked over his shoulder as Jake hung his head in dejection. Javy was about to say that they should pick a direction and start walking when the radio crackled to life, "this is Admiral Johannsson we have military search and rescue on the way, stay where you are. They'll be there shortly. "

Javy clasped the radio to his chest and said a silent thank you to whoever was looking out for them. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Jake look up at the starry night sky and Javy knew that Jake was thinking about Y/N. Coyote made his way back over to Jake and clapped his shoulder and relayed the message and Jake nodded in acknowledgement. They stood together in thankful silence as they saw the lights and heard the sirens of the rescue team. A team of paramedics ushered Jake and Javy out of the way and into the back of the ambulance and put hypothermic blankets over their shoulders and started tending to their wounds.

One paramedic was putting Javy's left arm in a sling to stabilize it. Jake got the brunt of the injuries, as a paramedic shined a flashlight in his eyes. "Lt. Seresin, you have a concussion. Can you tell me what day it is?" Jake winced at the light and muttered "it's Tuesday, I think." She slipped the pen flashlight back into her breast pocket and nodded as she wrote something onto a piece of paper attached to a clipboard.

"Good, are you feeling nauseous or have you vomited within the last few hours?" Javy raised his right hand and answered the question for him. "Yes Ma'am, Hangman's vomit is currently on the ground. It was nasty." She cracked a small smile and made another note on the clipboard. "Alright Lieutenant, I want you to stand up please and let me know if you have any trouble balancing, feelings of dizziness or blurry and or double vision?" Jake stood up and wobbled on his feet.

She watched as he swayed on his feet and made more notes on his chart. "Feeling woozy? Sluggish? Hazy? Foggy? Sensitive to light and sound? Disoriented? Can't concentrate?" Jake nodded "All of the above, ma'am." She jotted down some more notes and helped Hangman sit back down. She took his blood pressure and made one final notation and indicated that he should lay down on the stretcher. "Is that really necessary?" he was barely able to get the question out as she put an oxygen mask over his face.

"Better safe than sorry, Lieutenant." She jumped out of the back of the ambulance and before she could slam the doors shut Jake struggled to sit up and he removed the oxygen mask, "wait! Where are you taking us? Can you please let my girl know that I'm ok? Please?" Hangman gave his best puppy dog eyes and she looked over her shoulder to make sure that nobody was watching her as she climbed back in and sat next to Coyote. She ripped off a piece of paper and wrote down the information that Jake gave to her. She slipped it in her back pocket and jumped out of the ambulance and before slamming the door she said "Gentlemen, you get an all expenses paid trip to the lovely and scenic Naval Hospital in Camp Pendleton. We hope you enjoy your stay." Jake groaned as he collapsed back onto the stretcher as the ambulance lit up the night sky and his only thought was of you. He whispered your name and thought of you as the darkness claimed him.

Y/N POV:

Back at the base camp word had quickly spread like wildfire that Hangman and Coyote had been found alive and being transported to the Naval Hospital at Camp Pendleton. Rooster didn't have the heart to wake you up but he knew that there would be hell to pay if he didn't. He looked down at you as gently snored and a little bit of drool was pooling in the corner of your mouth. He reached a big hand up to your shoulder and gently started shaking you awake. "Y/N, time to rise and shine. They found Jake and Javy, they're being transported to the hospital right now."

You groggily cracked one eye open and picked your head up off of something hard. You looked up into Rooster's honey brown eyes and he gave you an impish smile. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. They found your Prince Charming." You shot up out of your chair, almost toppling it backwards as the blanket tumbled from your shoulders. You weren't sure if you were hearing him correctly and you just stared at him.

You stood there as comprehension slowly dawned on you. They found them. They found Jake and Javy. You stared at Rooster, not knowing what to say as you felt every single emotion from confusion and disbelief to utter euphoria. You felt the tears begin to form behind your eyes as you felt yourself sinking to the ground.

Before your knees could hit the ground, Rooster caught you and pulled you into his embrace. You began sobbing uncontrollably and he rocked you back and forth as he let you get it out of your system. You clung onto him as sobs painfully wracked your body. You felt the warmth of Rooster's big hand as he soothingly rubbed your back. He handed you a tissue as you tried to pull yourself back together.

Rooster stood up and he reached out a hand and pulled you up and onto your feet. You smiled weakly up at him as you heard a commotion further up the command post. You both looked over and saw a paramedic searching the crowd with her eyes. A piece of crumpled up paper in her hand. You two made eye contact with each other and she started to make her way through the crowd towards where you and Rooster were standing.

"Are you Y/N?" Rooster heard you audibly gulp and you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. What if something happened to them on the way to the hospital. She reached out to hand you the piece of paper and your hand was visibly shaking as you took it from her. She looked at you with compassion in her eyes as you struggled to open the note. You were shaking like a leaf in the frigid fall air as Rooster took pity on you and gently took the crumpled up piece of paper from your hands and thanked the paramedic as she nodded and disappeared into the night.

You shut your eyes and took a deep, calming breath and you heard the paper rustling as Rooster opened the note and gave it a quick glance as he looked over at you standing still with your face turned up towards the night sky as you felt a soft breeze against your skin. You felt something warm touch your upper arm and you wiped away tears of relief with the back of your hand and you reach over and take the note from him and grasp his hand in a quick show of your appreciation for him being there for you. Rooster nodded at you and stepped away to speak with Maverick and Phoenix and to give you some space to read Jake's note. You braced yourself and opened up the folded paper. It wasn't Jake's handwriting so you figured that he must have gotten the paramedic to write it.

Y/N, I won't tell you not to worry because that's what you do best. We're OK, a little banged and bruised but nothing more serious than some scrapes. We're currently at the Naval Hospital in Camp Pendleton, I really want to see you.

Yours Forever, Jake.

You could feel the tears forming again behind your eyes but they didn't fall. You pulled yourself together as best as you could and you made your way towards your sister. You could feel Rooster and Maverick staring at you, their concern for you radiating off of them. You gave them a weak smile and stood next to Nat. You needed your big sister now more than ever and she could sense that.

You hugged Rooster and Maverick and thanked them for everything. Rooster walked with you towards Nat's car and opened up the door for you and you hugged him again and kissed his cheek as you settled yourself into the passenger seat. You buckled yourself in as you saw Nat say a few words to Rooster and Mav as you let your head rest against the seat and you looked out the window at the horizon as the inky blackness of the night sky gradually gave way to morning. You were bone tired and you could only begin to imagine how exhausted Jake and Javy must be. Surviving a near fatal plane crash must have been beyond terrifying.

You had no more tears to cry so you gave silent thanks to whoever was listening and you heard Nat say goodbye to Rooster and Maverick and she started the car and looked over at you. She smiled at you and you gave her one in return. You finally felt like you could breathe easier as Phoenix started the car and she said "Camp Pendleton?" You nodded in agreement and you felt yourself drifting off as you and Nat made the journey towards the hospital and you couldn't wait to see Jake again and make sure that he and Javy were okay. As you fell asleep, you dropped the note that Jake had written for you and Phoenix picked it up carefully and her curiosity got the better of her, she rolled to a stop at the red light and read what Jake had written to you. In the early dawn hours there was nobody else on the road so as the light turned green Phoenix folded up the note and gently put it in the glove box for safe keeping.

Driving on the back roads gave Phoenix plenty of time for contemplation. Everything happened so quickly, your parents untimely passing, the house back home still needs to be packed up and put on the market, you had only been in California for a few months and still hadn't fully settled in yet. Now another set back with Hangman getting hurt and you still haven't come to terms with everything that has happened to you in such a short period of time. Phoenix wondered when the universe would give you a chance to catch your breath and she whispered a silent prayer that you could finally get a break and a chance to be happy and Nat seriously hoped that once the dust settled you'd see a future for yourself in California.

~Fin~

(Until next time 😉)

@the-romanian-is-bae @hangmandruigandmav @maddithehugenerd @86laura11 @80pairsofcrocs @hardballoonlove @caitsymichelle13 @bellaireland1981 @halibshepherd @crazybeautiful1987 @rosiahills22 @roostersforevergirl @planetch1ld @quafflewaffle97 @killmyhyunmin @lovinghimisneverenough @drunk-on-hwa @kennediijordan @cdntheblackhearts @runningawayfromsociety @shelbycillian @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @rosedurin @luna-lovethegood @chlo-lo14 @themusingofagothicsoul @jason-toddbandit @rascallyrascals @kyleeisahotmess @queenslandlover-93 @emma8895eb @petehangmankazansky24 @thefantasticreadingsofadri @milber32 @ellianwhite @mamaskillerqueen @kyliesalvatore @lynnestra44 @djs8891 @hookslove1592 @beautifulandvoid @comicgollum20 @erindiggory @tonkatesuramen @fandom-life-12 @tootser98 @jakeyzzz @scarlettwidow19 @mrsevans90 @jessa-21

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emepe · 6 months

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— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: A journal entry. Meanwhile, Armin does what he can to help Eren out.

— Content warnings: mentions of murder and torture of a woman, misogyny.

— Notes: Hello, hello! Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged chapter 1 of this series. I really appreciate it <3 Happy reading, bubs!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

just friends

September 8, 2024

There’s nothing I hate more than arrogant women. That’s why I had to kill her.

All I wanted was for her to smile at me. She wouldn’t. I filled her room with all her favorite things and even loosened her handcuffs. But she was so fucking hard-headed it drove me crazy. The little bitch even dared to spit at me. I had to teach her a lesson. I had to let out my anger somehow.

For a while, it was exciting to watch her writhe in pain. I can’t even begin to describe how thrilling it is to see how much a human can tolerate until they break. I told her it was compensation for the look she gave me the day we met. She kept lying and saying she didn’t even remember having bumped into me on the street.

I really wish she could’ve bounced back this time. I’m so lonely without her now. I miss her.

Humans are social by nature, it's what all the books say. When one is young, we need protection and love from our caregivers. As we grow, our world gradually expands and we bond with other people — friends from school, teachers, neighbors, coworkers. If one must stick to tradition, there's bound to be a romantic relationship to develop at some point. But for some people, that imposed path doesn't come naturally. Or rather, there have been blockages throughout the years that resulted in stunted social growth.

That's where you find yourself. It's not your fault. When one grows up forced to believe she's nothing but a burden, it's only natural to try to take up as little space as possible. But again, it's not your fault. One doesn't acquire those thoughts on their own.

You ruined my life!

As much as wellness and self-help gurus will preach there's a place in the world for everyone, self-awareness keeps you from blinding yourself toward the baggage you carry. It wouldn't be fair to lay that on anyone else.

So you've shrunk yourself. No making yourself seen, no making yourself heard. No talking outside of what is strictly necessary to survive. No inserting yourself into other's lives. For the most part, it's worked. Albeit, you've been deemed unlikable, weird, and rude. It's better this way. There's no use in putting yourself out there if there's so much to feel ashamed of. It's too much to trouble others with your pitiful self.

Who in the world would want to put up with you?

After the usual snarky murmurs and judgmental glances, you're rarely acknowledged save for when someone — usually a man — tries to “take a crack” at you and the whispers float in the air for another while. Other than that, you're at peace with yourself. You're almost convinced you've developed invisibility powers.

That is until Armin came along. At first, you sighed at the prospect of going over your routine yet again. Cementing boundaries and erasing any hope that it just takes the right guy to “loosen you up”. It was disgusting to have your quietness be misinterpreted for arrogance by the men at work. Even if that were the case, who was anybody to assume you needed to be knocked down a peg through sexual advances?

But Armin proved himself to be different. He tore away at your skepticism by simply being kind with no ulterior motives. Men can be so stupid. They'll believe a girl can't pick up when they're being slimy. It must've shocked them when you started having lunch with Armin more frequently.

It was thanks to him that you slowly expanded your world's limits. It was because of him that you began to question the voice that rang in your ears. After receiving the housewarming party invitation, you wondered whether to step forward or back. There was no denying Armin's expansion had awoken something in you. You wanted company — craved it — but you didn't want to risk bringing trouble into the group. What if Armin was an anomaly and the things that echoed in your head were true? Maybe Armin wasn't an anomaly at all, he just didn't know enough about you. You certainly didn't let him in enough.

In the end, your heart overruled your brain. You wanted more. With a hopeful heart, you went to the party.

A heavy sigh slips past your lips as you pick at your dinner on Sunday night. Your hair is still damp from the shower and it rests uncomfortably along your neck. Your phone lies next to your plate, buzzing every few seconds to match the texts that come into the group chat — arrangements are taking place for the next get-together with Armin and his friends.

After your moment of realization on the balcony, you faked a yawn and went back inside to pretend to fall asleep.

This morning, you avoided being alone with Eren. Not out of fear of something happening, but you needed to sort out your feelings on the situation.

There's no denying Eren is an attractive man — but that doesn't faze you.

Catching Eren's eye wasn't something you planned. Your world suddenly expanded outside of your will — out of your control. You're not annoyed, just overwhelmed.

Being the center of someone's attention means more expectations, more to live up to — he has no idea you're not the kind of girl he needs. Nobody needs someone who's a burden. It's not as if you're open to reciprocating any special attention, anyway.

If history has taught you anything, it’s that love isn't in the cards for you. It's best not to entertain any silly ideas.

Friendships are tricky, but no more than romance — or whatever crossed Eren's mind each time he looked at you. Keeping to oneself is easier than either one. But with the latter idea being too late to return to, you'll have to nip this problem in the bud.

The few hours before lunchtime seem to drag slower every Monday. Given that sparing time to eat was nothing but another task to check off your to-do list, you never used to pay much attention to the clock. But since Armin, lunchtime means more than bringing food to your mouth, methodically stretching your pace to fit the length of your lunch break.

Now it means meeting with a friend, having someone fill in the silence with tales from the accounting department, and occasionally going on quick drives to Kuchel.

So when you venture off to his cubicle, only for him to tell you he's swamped with work and won't have lunch until later, you're mildly disappointed. You don't let it show. After all, work trumps your trivial need for company.

So you wish him good luck and return to your desk. Without any conversation to fill in the minutes, you finish your food fairly quickly. When you glance at the time on your phone, barely fifteen minutes have passed. Your fingers tap rhythmically against your desk before you decidedly stand, grab your bag, and head for the elevator.

The coffee shop on the corner of the street has been your go-to spot since you started working here. You've been there alone and with Armin. It's where your feet take you on the rare occasions when Armin is too busy. There's nothing wrong with the in-house coffee kiosk from your office building, but you find more comfort in being surrounded by strangers who keep to themselves than bumping into someone who doesn't like you.

The early September days serve as a transition into cooler temperatures. A light breeze has added to the warmth leftover from summer. The leaves have yet to develop a clear change in color, but some yellow streaks are popping up here and there. The beginning of autumn pushes you toward all things cozy. By the time you reach the shop, you've got your heart set on having a warm cup of cinnamon tea.

You settle at a table, place your order, grab a book from your bag, and wait. Before you can reach the second paragraph of your read, a shadow casts over your left side, forcing you to look up in confusion. It's too soon for your tea to be ready.

You're met with striking green eyes and plump lips that pronounce a bashful hi.

It's a strange coincidence. You wish you could say you've never seen him around here before, but you've never bothered to commit any face to memory if it's not necessary.

“Eren, hi.”

The tint on his cheeks you remember so well from two nights ago resurfaces. A nervous swallow pulls at your throat. You never did map out a plan — then again, you weren't expecting to see him again so soon.

“I wasn't sure if it was you. Are you here with someone?” he asks, taking a second to look around the shop.

You shake your head.

“No. Armin's busy so I came here alone,” you explain.

He nods, rocking his weight on his heels. A question seems to linger on the tip of his tongue as his gaze flits between you and the floor. It takes him a moment for him to find his voice, though. In spite of yourself, you have to admit it's actually a bit endearing. It's different. It's refreshing.

“Is it okay if I sit with you?” His eyes are overflowing with hope.

You nod. He sits. The book in your hands is put away.

For a while last night, you debated the validity of your theory. Maybe Eren wasn't interested in you in the way you thought. After all, it was your first time meeting and he might’ve been nervous. You know enough about the way you present yourself to acknowledge you're not the most approachable person. Maybe all he needs is time to get used to you.

“Do you want to order something?” You ask, prepared to wave over a server. He stops you with a dismissive hand.

“It's okay, I already had some tea.”

Your eyebrows rise in surprise.

“Not a coffee guy?”

He shakes his head, sputtering a nervous chuckle.

“Not really. I don't like bitter things.” His nose scrunches as if he can savor it on his tongue.

A server brings over your tea along with a small tray of additives. You thank them before returning to Eren's statement.

“You can always add sugar,” you point out with a shrug.

He shakes his head again. This time you're relieved to find a playful smile dancing on his lips.

“Nothing can beat tea with honey.”

Your hand pauses mid-air on its way to pick up the wooden wand half lost in a jar of golden syrup.

You hum in thought as you reach for the sugar spoon instead.

“Really?”

“Yeah. That's how my mom made it for me when I was little. I'd get a stomachache or a cold and it was the first thing she'd make for me. I feel like a kid each time I drink it. It makes me think of her.”

The corners of his lips tug into a smile. You find yourself mirroring his expression as you look down at your hand stirring the sugar into your tea.

“Your mom sounds nice,” you murmur.

“Oh, she's the best. I love her.”

Eren's shoulders relax. He feels at ease talking about his mom. He feels even better knowing he's successfully carrying out a casual conversation with you. In the light of day, everything is less scary. There's less to worry about. That carefree feeling blankets over everything. Suddenly, the motive he walked into this coffee shop for seems doable.

Then a sinking feeling comes over his stomach.

“Sorry.” The word bounces off his tongue without thinking.

“What for?”

He doesn't want to say it, but he hopes his apologetic gaze is enough to convey an explanation.

Your eyebrows shoot up in realization at his hesitance. Then they furrow as you press your lips into a fine line and shake your head dismissively.

“Oh, that.”

The recall of Saturday night when you drunkenly talked about your mom causes your cheeks to flare with heat.

Guilt settles in Eren's stomach. He didn't mean to bring up his mom. He also didn't mean to be so quick to apologize. It just made things worse now that you know he's tiptoeing around you. That's probably the last thing you want — to feel purposely pitied.

Flustered, he rummages through his brain for a solution — a way to get back on the track he was on.

You fix your gaze on him. It's obvious he feels troubled. It's a foreign experience having someone worry so much about if they've caused you any harm. You're unsure of what feelings to associate with it other than guilt. He's not at fault for your crappy family life.

“So you and your mom are close?” you ask.

The crease in his forehead smoothes over.

When he shyly reconnects with your gaze, your eyebrows raise ever so slightly in encouragement. The movement is so subtle it's hard not to miss — but not for Eren, who takes in every detail of your face with so much care. For Eren, the small shifts in your features are so interesting to look at. You express so much with so little. And yet there were times when you would accentuate your expressions as much as you could. What you held back vocally was compensated tenfold through your face. It's fascinating to him.

“Yeah.”

His voice is soft — a trace of his withering embarrassment.

“She's my best friend,” he adds with a little more confidence.

You take a sip of tea. The drink warms your stomach, mirroring that of your chest elicited by Eren's words. The fondness in his voice taints him with a childlike innocence.

Eren Jaeger isn't worried about looking cool. He's honest and clumsy. It's charming.

A light shake of your head keeps your thoughts from drifting further.

“So not a coffee guy but a mama's boy, for sure. Got it.” You nod along with an overly serious expression painted on your face.

He laughs, the sinking feeling in his stomach now dissolving into nothing. Had he not been on the receiving end of your bluntly spoken teasing the other night, he might not have laughed so easily.

A blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Come on, don't tease me,” he mumbles.

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Eren falls back into his previously relaxed state.

The conversation continues to flow in between every sip of your tea.

“Do you come here often?” you ask as you prepare to take another sip.

Your eyes are locked on his. He struggles with the intense eye contact. At least, it's intense on his end.

“Not really. Armin mentioned it to me so I thought I'd try it out.”

The pads of his fingers drum a nervous beat on the table.

You nod, relieved. You'd feel silly if it had turned out he was a frequent customer and your disregard of the people surrounding you kept you from noticing him. It would've piled onto your embarrassment from the Kuchel incident.

“Ah, so are you on your lunch break, too? Do you work around here?”

“Um, kind of. I do media production and marketing for a museum, but I do a lot of hours at home. My place is just a few minutes by car.”

“That's so cool.”

The amazement in your voice in addition to its sudden turn up in volume is enough to make him blush.

“It's nothing special. I'm definitely not raking in the big bucks like Jean.”

“Still, it's cool. It's a lot more interesting than being an office manager.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together with newborn disdain for your job before you finish the remainder of your tea.

“Well, I can't argue there,” he says, imitating the sliver of bitterness in your voice.

You gasp in mock hurt.

“Hey, only I can say it.” Your tone is serious, but he knows you're joking. He can tell by the twinkle of amusement in your eyes.

He laughs.

“How long until you have to get back to work?”

You peek at the clock on the wall across the room.

“I still have some time. It's a short walk back, anyway.”

Despite your wording, your answer triggers his nervous antics. You're bound to part ways eventually and he swore to himself he would get the words out. He runs a hand through his hair to distract himself from the anxious flutter in his stomach.

It's no big deal, he thinks. She's just a girl.

He regrets not ordering something else when you asked him. It would give his hands something to do. Then again, he can't keep them from shaking as he gathers the courage to pronounce his next thought. So it's better he doesn't have any breakables in his hold.

He pronounces your name carefully. His heart skips a beat when your eyes meet his. It's strange to think that you hold so much power over him within just a couple of days since meeting. He wants to get closer — he needs to. Again, that feeling of wanting this moment with you to stretch farther squeezes at his chest.

“Do you want to hang out sometime? Just the two of us?”

He can feel himself growing numb to his surroundings as he awaits your response. It's similar to the feeling he gets after stepping foot off a rollercoaster. The adrenaline is pumping furiously through his veins while his mind goes blank. It's a weird moment of chaos and bliss all at once.

You clear your throat.

“So… a date?”

He swallows thickly and nods.

He watches you contemplate his proposal. Your lips are pressed in a fine line, your gaze low and brow furrowed.

It's too much to hope you're equally attracted to him — he's aware. But he hopes you like his company just enough to say yes. Or at the very least, you're curious to know more.

Your mind is in conflict. This is more than you've bargained for. All you wanted was to get along with Armin's friends.

“I'm sorry, Eren. No.”

He instantly deflates to your firm tone.

“It's nothing personal,” you explain. “You're a really nice guy. Really. But I'm not interested in dating… at all.” You sigh, dreading the pending words on your tongue. “And I don't really see you that way. I just want to be friends.”

He remains quiet, chewing on the inside of his cheeks as he processes your words.

The situation is uncomfortable for you, but his defeated form weighs heavier on your heart. He looks so small. It's definitely worse for him.

“Eren?”

Your voice grounds him.

“Sorry, I really spaced out there,” he nervously laughs. “Friends, though. Yeah, friends is good. Friends is perfect, actually.”

The word leaves a bitter taste on his tongue each time. He can pat himself on the back for shooting his shot later but, for now, his senses have been blurred by the disappointment of being turned down.

“I really like talking to you, Eren. Really.”

Your attempt to lighten the defeat on his shoulders works — a little. It's a relief you're not entirely opposed to having him around, at least. Eren finds comfort in that. Maybe it'll suffice while he fights away at his attraction.

“I like talking to you, too.” His voice carries a tint of helplessness.

Your eyes soften.

“I should get going.”

You pull out a fresh bill from your purse and place it under the empty teacup before standing.

He stands with you and holds the door open. It's not until you're both out on the sidewalk, bidding each other goodbye, that he forces a smile.

“I'll see you around.”

“Bye, Eren.”

“Sorry I couldn't make it to lunch,” Armin says. He leans against the edge of your desk with his hands in his pockets.

It's been an hour since you got back, and you've been typing away, replying to emails.

You shrug, tossing a small reassuring smile his way before focusing back on your computer screen.

“It's fine. I wasn't alone this time.”

He perks up.

“Really?”

You hum in affirmation.

“I went out for tea and bumped into your friend Eren.”

Armin's jaw falls open.

“Huh. Well, what do you know? That's a crazy coincidence.”

There's something suspicious about Armin's theatrical tone, but you're too engrossed in going over your email for typos to notice. You only manage to murmur a simple uh-huh.

“What'd you talk about?”

You send off your email with a satisfied click and look up at Armin as you lean back in your chair.

“Just this and that,” you reply nonchalantly.

His lips press into a dissatisfied line.

“Well, what do you think of him?” His eyes light up expectantly.

“He's…” You lose yourself in thought for a moment. Images of blushing cheeks, boyish smiles, and shimmering green eyes flash through your memory. You remember the honey and his simple confessions. “... like a little kid.”

Armin's face bears a mix of confusion and amusement.

“What do you mean by that?”

A soft pensive hum vibrates through your throat.

“Dorky,” you reply firmly.

Armin snorts, readying himself to come to Eren's defense, but you continue.

“He's… honest, like a little kid would be. And he's a little clumsy with his words but it's… Kind of endearing. He's a sweet guy.”

Armin nods along, his face serious. Finally, he smiles.

“Sounds like you had a nice talk, then.”

Date proposal aside, your moment with Eren was enjoyable. Even taking your rejection into account, you didn't sense any resentment directed at you and that just further proved your pure perception of him.

It's not the first time you've been asked out. It's certainly not the first time you've said no — that's always been your response, albeit for different reasons. A few guys in the office have tried getting closer to you but, even if you were open to dating, you can always tell it's nothing genuine from their approach. Their overly kind performance just makes it easier for you to decline. Once that's been done, their creepy narcissistic truths come to light — you're stoned with sexist slurs and disgusted looks. It'd hurt more if you were still the kind of person who craves approval from the wrong people.

There's a clear difference between them and Eren. So even though you rejected him, you still wish to be close as friends. He's a nice person to know.

“I did,” you tell Armin.

There's a shimmer in your eyes he manages to catch. Your features are soft and serene as you prop your chin on one hand while you mindlessly scroll through your emails with the other. Your lips are shaped into a discreet smile. Like a kid.

On his way back to his cubicle on the opposite end of the floor, Armin hums a cheerful tune to himself. There's a proud bounce in every step he takes.

“Armin, check your phone. It was buzzing like crazy a few minutes ago,” a female coworker says in passing before grabbing a manila folder from her desk and rushing off to a meeting room across the hall.

“Thanks, Mina!” he calls after her.

Armin taps the missed call notification on his screen and brings the phone to his ear, grinning expectantly.

“You suck,” Eren's voice comes through the speaker after the first ring.

“Woah, woah, woah. What did I do?” Armin laughs as he steps out onto the empty smoker's balcony.

There’s a groan on the other end.

“What do you think? I crashed and burned.”

Armin’s face contorts in confusion. From what he could gather on your end, the coffee shop incident went well. You were smiling, and although the things you said about Eren didn’t seem like it, you meant them fondly — Armin knew you well enough to confidently confirm that. At the very least, it meant you weren’t completely repulsed by his company. Even if there are different sides to every story, the discrepancies shouldn’t be anything major.

“What are you talking about?” Armin sighs.

Another groan on Eren’s end. If Armin wasn’t so patient, he would’ve hung up.

He really is like a little kid, he thinks.

“I asked her out and she said no.”

Armin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. How could you keep that part out of the conversation you had earlier?

His shock doesn’t stem from your rejection, but rather because of Eren’s unexpected bravery. Although Eren was tough on the playground when they were kids, he grew up to be a fairly meek guy. When it comes to a girl he likes, he’s never been the bold type. Armin found it a bit strange at times. Eren’s had a track record of being popular among women, so his confidence should be over the roof and his personality, unbearable. But if he’s honest, it’s a good thing he doesn’t pay much attention to those things. It’s easier to root for a friend who only acts on more honest feelings. Even if that confidence didn’t stick with him.

“This is all your fault, Armin. So much for having my back.”

Even through the phone, Armin can tell his best friend is pouting. He has to hold back from rolling his eyes — it feels deceitful to do it behind his back when he has to play the role of a sympathetic friend right now.

He rubs at his nape, unsure of whether he should feel proud of Eren for making a move or apologetic for not contemplating what seemed like a far-fetched risk.

“To be fair, buddy, I didn’t send you over there to ask her out. I just thought you would like the chance to talk to her and get to know her a little better.”

“You couldn’t tell me that before? I don’t think I can ever face her again!” Eren half-yells.

Of course, Eren chooses to focus on the negatives. Armin cherry-picks the situations he meddles in. Even if it’ll serve as a confident boost to reveal to Eren what you said about him and how you said it, it could do him some good to bounce back on his own — and learn to pace himself.

“First off, you have to relax an—”

“I can’t.” Eren’s voice is reduced to an embarrassed murmur. “She makes me nervous. I can’t help myself.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

It’s been obvious from the start that Eren is attracted to you, but the near confession pulls at Armin’s heartstrings. It’s times like this when he’s reminded how cute Eren can be.

“That bad, huh?” Armin smiles down at the people walking on the street.

“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not in love with her or anything but…”

There's a long pause on Eren's side, only disturbed by some light rustling as he moves his phone around.

“... I like looking at her… and I like hearing her talk. Do you ever notice how soft her voice is? There’s just something about it… There’s this thing with her eyes, too, it’s crazy.”

“Well, as long as you’re not falling in love with her.”

Eren releases a third groan.

“Armin, please. I just want to get closer to her. And I don’t want to make myself look like an idiot each time we’re alone. I wish there was something I could do to make her like me.”

“I don’t think she dislikes you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“She said she doesn’t see me that way. She just wants to be friends.”

Eren’s desolation is seeping through the phone now.

“Maybe I jumped the gun by asking her out so quickly.”

When Armin suggested Eren find you at the coffee shop during your lunch break, he figured it would help him get used to you. So that when the time came, he could ask you out without being more anxious than he needed to be. Had everything gone accordingly, Eren wouldn’t be moping now and wondering what would have happened — if anything was meant to happen — if he had just given you a little more time.

“Maybe,” Armin echoes.

“Do you think I blew it?”

Armin shakes his head even though there’s no way for Eren to tell.

“I think you just got a little excited. You never know how she might feel later on.”

“I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I hardly think she’ll like me any better if I act like those guys who can’t take no for an answer. I should just try being her friend.”

Armin wants to beg him not to feel discouraged — that there’s a reason why he was so excited to introduce you to each other, and why he teased him at the housewarming party after he caught him blushing while doing the dishes with you.

It didn’t start that way but, the more he got to know you, the more he thought you and Eren would be good together.

Soft-spoken girl who keeps to herself meets the most dependable and kind-hearted boy.

Armin would be lying if he said he wasn’t swayed by the promised satisfaction of playing matchmaker in the fantasy playing out in his head. Not that he felt you absolutely needed to get together. But he could feel it in his gut. You and Eren could do each other a lot of good. He already knew Eren would feel a pull upon meeting you and, if there’s anything he gathered from both sides of the coffee shop incident, it’s that you like Eren enough to let him stick around. It was a good call on your end, though he may be biased.

If you happen to fall in love along the way, then so be it.

“You’re a good guy, Eren. Everything will turn out fine.”

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highvern · 8 months

Text

Track 10: Late Night Talking - Harry Styles

“We've been doin' all this late night talkin', 'Bout anythin' you want until the mornin' // Now you're in my life, I can't get you off my mind”

Pairing: Xu Minghao x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: n/a

Length: ~200

Note: some sweet fluff for my favorite harry's house song

Like, comment, reblog, enjoy!

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

“If animals could talk, which ones do you think would be rude?”

“Can we please go to sleep?”

“I think birds would be kinda snarky.”

“Y/N,” Minghao sighs.

“Like ‘tweet tweet bitch’ or whatever.” Minghao turns to face you, watching you continue to ramble at the ceiling fan. “Or like zebras. You know they think they’re special.”

“It’s okay to be nervous.”

“Who said I was nervous?” You still refuse to look at him, but your face tightens.

Minghao waits. One of his hands finding your own underneath the comforter, the lazy drag of his thumb against your palm coaxing all your worries to the front.

“What if they don’t like me?” You whisper.

“They’re gonna like you.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I love you and they love me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Minghao says with a kiss to your crown.

His chest is warm against your back, lulling you closer to sleep now that the anxiety of meeting his parents is out in the open where it can evaporate.

And just when you’re toeing the edge of dreams, Minghao nuzzles your ear sweetly.

“Swans would definitely be the rudest.”

The hum of agreement doesn’t make it past the tip of your tongue.

@tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

#svthub #svt x reader #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao fluff #the8 #the8 fluff #xu minghao #seventeen #svt fluff #seventeen fanfic #minghao scenarios #minghao x reader #minghao imagines #🫡 highvern

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lalal-99 · 1 year

Text

Slumber Party {b.c.}

Bang Chan x fem. original character x afab!reader | trope: threesome, start of a throuple relationship, best friends to lovers | word count: 9k

Synopsis: Chan, Ash, Y/N. The perfect trio. Spending so much time together, people usually mistook you for a throuple. Not that you were complaining. Your best friends were hot, your past sexual encounters with each of them the subject of most of your dreams. All it takes is one fateful night and a bunch of Tequila to finally make that dream a reality.

Warnings: explicit content | alcohol consumption | dni if your under 18

Note: I had this story idea a while ago but didn't think I was ready to write it how I wanted it. But then I thought, if I don't write it, then who will? Anyway, enjoy, and leave lots of feedback please :) This was inspired by Slumber Party by Ashnikko.

Taglist: @shincode @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @joonghands @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @keellzzzz

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Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

A bottle of Tequila.

A bad-bitch playlist in the background.

Truth or Dare.

What else could a girls’ night need?

Maybe some more girls to play with, but you were perfectly content with just your best friend. She was everyone you needed for a good time anyways. Had been for years. Your girl, your soulmate, in the most platonic sense.

You met at university on the third day of your third year. After placing identical coffee orders at the store next to the library, you thought meeting each other that way was a coincidence. And when you found out that both of you were going to the same concert later that night and lived mere minutes apart, coincidence turned into destiny.

She started dating your childhood best friend Chan after you had introduced them at some party, though that didn’t terminate your friendship; if anything, it deepened it even further. It wasn’t just you and her who grew closer afterwards. All three of you started hanging out more; similar interests and life paths seemingly connected you for years after graduating.

Chan, Ash, Y/N. The perfect trio. Spending so much time together, people usually mistook you for a throuple.

None of you cared about how people portrayed you. You didn’t listen to the rumours on campus depicting all three of you in sexual scenarios. Perhaps it would have been different had you ever been in serious relationships. Considering all you ever got caught up in were mindless flings or the occasional one-night stand, the strictly platonic relationship with your two best friends was the closest thing you had to a romantic bond.

“What happened to that guy from Friday? Yeonjun? You seemed to get along well enough.”

That was truly an understatement. The man in question had talked to you for no more than 5 minutes before you stuck your tongue down his throat. He was cute and kind enough. Though other than his name and the address of his apartment, where you went, once you decided a club bathroom was too shabby even for you, you knew nothing about him.

“The usual. We went to his apartment. Did it like 4 times,” you answered, rolling around on your best friend’s mattress and stuffing your mouth full of chips.

“So, I can put the best-maid outfit back on the hanger?”

You laughed at Ash’s joke, shaking your head. “Might as well burn it while you’re at it.”

“Oh, come on! You’re gonna find someone eventually.”

It wasn’t so much a question of finding someone. You had plenty of options. Although you weren’t sure if you ever wanted to have more than a few nights with anyone. It got boring too quickly for you to stick to anyone for longer than a few months. By now, you weren’t sure you’d ever find someone you could be with forever.

Monogamy? More like Nonogamy.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’m made for this one person for the rest of my life thing. If I did, I’d probably be married to San by now.”

You and San had dated for a year – needless to say, the longest relationship you ever had. A few months prior, you had decided that being tied down wouldn’t do it for either of you. You had even tried an open relationship, though he seemed to get jealous more than he saw the advantage of the whole thing. So, back to square one, it was.

“Your turn,” you announced, turning to face your friend. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

You thought for a second, taking another swig from the Tequila. You had shared about half of it, the alcohol finally taking over your mind. It made you more daring, the little amount of shyness you still felt around your best friend settling.

“You mentioned something spicy you purchased for your anniversary with Chan.” Ash nodded at your words, a smirk overtaking her face. “I dare you to show me!”

She bit her lip, embarrassed redness taking over her cheeks.

“You really want to see?”

“Come on now! I’m curious what he’s into.”

It took Ash longer than usual to get off the mattress before she stumbled to her dresser. She rummaged through the hangers, eventually pulling out a pastel pink bag. Holding it out, you took it, inspecting its content curiously.

The first item you pulled out was a white two-piece set of panties and bra, though neither of the parts was made of much fabric. The bra part was technically just two triangle-shaped cups with small cushions at the bottom, causing a push-up effect. A thick band connected the two pieces, reaching just above the belly button. Letting the panties run through your fingers, you noticed just how little material it was made of. And the lace was something else.

With wide eyes and a taunting look, you threw your best friend a smirk.

“Girl. He’s gonna go wild!”

“You think so?” Ash questioned as she pulled out the second set, turning towards her mirror and holding it to her body. It was almost an exact replica of the garments in your hands, though the colour was more of a rosé tone.

“I know so,” you assured her, watching her twirl before looking at you through the mirror.

Maybe you shouldn’t have, but with her big doe eyes staring at you, you couldn’t help imagining her wrapped in the item. Biting the inside of your cheek, you felt heat arise inside your body, soon reaching your collarbones and neck.

Before you could think again, you had already opened your mouth, “Wanna try them on?”

“Only if-” Ash turned to you, expression bright as if she had waited for you to suggest a fashion-show sorta thing, “Only if you try the other.”

You nodded with a smile, agreeing with her suggestion. “Sure, why not?”

Bottom lip wandering between her teeth, you tried ignoring the rush of blood running through your body as she pulled her shirt over her head, exposing her perfectly shaped breasts to you. It took everything in you to hide how quickly your mouth started watering. There was no doubt in your mind that her boobs would fit your hands perfectly.

Dang, that alcohol was a backstabbing bitch.

Taking off your shirt, you slid the bra over your chest, fixing it in the back with a skilled movement.

Next were the panties, both of you sliding into them simultaneously, all while watching each other out of the corner of your eyes. Knowing your best friend was as excited about it as you were, was soothing. Even if her reason was far less selfish than yours.

At least as far as you could tell.

“I think yours came with garters,” Ash suddenly remembered, scrambling through her drawer again before pulling out the two strings of fabric. She threw them at you with a chuckle, watching you as you swiftly slid them up your naked thighs. They sat slightly too tight, though you figured it was intentional, so they would stay up. “Fuck, you look amazing!”

“Ditto.”

You watched each other for a few seconds, your eyes wandering over her chest to her stomach and legs. The rosé colour of the panties and bra perfectly accentuated her skin tone and innocent face. She looked straight out of a Playboy. Or Playgirl, for that matter. Any gender would find her attractive; you were sure of it and felt it in your veins.

Ash noticed your fixed gaze, turning around with just a hint of pink on her cheeks. Your tongue clicked at that, tasting a hint of mutual arousal in the current situation. Perhaps that was more wishful thinking than reality, so you decided to test your theory.

As she watched herself in the mirror, hands wandering over her naked skin, you crawled across the mattress before taking a seat at the end of it.

“Do you remember Jisung-ie’s 21st birthday party?”

Her eyes found yours through the mirror, tongue running over her bottom lip as she nodded. “How could I forget?”

“Well, we weren’t exactly sober. Some might say we were too hammered to know what we were doing.”

“I wasn’t.” Agreeing with her, you let your gaze wander over her butt to her ponytail. She looked stunning, beautiful, and anything in between. Tasty. You quickly pushed that objectifying thought back, not letting it mess with your head too much. “Were you?”

“Not enough to not know what I was doing. Or want it, anyways.”

Silence fell upon you, covering you in a thick veil of mutual uncertainty. This wasn’t exactly how you had expected the night to progress, though you didn’t hate the excitement in your body. It was like playing with fire while surrounded by gasoline. A small move could have been enough to set the situation alight.

“Truth or dare,” Ash spoke up after a while, tip-toeing towards you as she sat onto her mattress. Mere centimetres separated you, your chest flushed by the proximity of naked skin.

“What?”

“It’s your turn. Truth or dare?”

You pondered for a second before answering, “Truth.”

The smile tucking at the corners of her mouth made your heart leave out several beats. She looked so innocent in the pink tone of her ‘clothing’, exciting you like you had barely been before.

“Who’s a better lover? Chan or me?”

Eyes widening at her question, you swallowed hard in realisation. She knew. Chan had told her, and now she knew. This revelation caused a handful of questions to arise. Like, how long had she known? Why wasn’t she jealous? And did the thought of you with her boyfriend excite her as much as it did you?

“He-” With a dry throat, you barely got a word out, your tone scratchy. You quickly grabbed the bottle, chugging down a burning mouthful as you pondered how to phrase your thoughts delicately. “He told you?”

“Nuh-uh,” she replied, leaning back against her arms. “My question first.”

You and Chan had happened years back. You were both 18, horny, and virgins long enough to finally want to get it over with. So, being best friends since kindergarten, it only made sense to do it together. Seeing as you trusted one another and had an open enough relationship to be able to talk about it. Express your thoughts and walk the other through what you liked.

It was a rather uncomfortable memory. Neither of you knew what you were doing. You had tried blowing Chan – though unsuccessfully so – as you accidentally bit him. And he had taken forever to finish you off. Not to say that you didn’t in the end. You had never regretted sleeping with him, though it had made your friendship somewhat awkward for some time.

Ash and you, that was a whole other thing. Both of you had experience, though never with another woman. It had happened at Jisung’s birthday party after everyone else had gone home. The two of you had shared a bed, or rather a couch, intoxication driving you to eventually confess to having fantasised about being with the same sex. All it took was the right person to come along to help you explore your sexuality.

Naturally, you had ended up exploring each other. And you had found so much pleasure in each other that it followed you wherever you went for months. You had been just as inexperienced as with Chan, though more realistic about your abilities.

Both memories you thought about occasionally, finding pleasure in either of them. Still, having been with no other woman since then, despite finding just as much arousal in that part of your sexuality, Ash had found her way into your inner eye many more times.

“I don’t-”

You were cut off by the beauty before you, “Yes, you do!”

“Fine,” you gave in, finger playing with the string around your thigh, “I guess being with you was somewhat more exciting. But that had nothing to do with either of you doing better. You both had convincing arguments.”

“Interesting.”

Before Ash could reply to your revelation, you spoke up again, “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“How did Chan react? When you told him about us, I mean.”

You imagined your best guy friend to become somewhat jealous upon hearing about his best girl friend and his girlfriend having had any sexual experience with each other. Even though it had happened months before the two of them eventually got together, you imagined he would be somewhat uncomfortable with that thought. Especially since you had been very open about finding out about your bisexuality.

“He almost burst when I told him.” You nodded understandingly, seeing him having a whole tantrum. He wasn’t the easiest to anger, but this must have enraged him. “He also nutted super hard when we had sex later that day.”

Your eyes widened upon hearing those words, “He did?”

That Chan hadn’t been as mad as you had expected him to be filled you with more unanswered questions. Why didn’t he hate the thought of his girlfriend being with his best friend? Was he aroused by the two of you together? Or had his fantasy gone wild, thinking about you doing his girlfriend in front of him – possibly alongside him?

“You’re his best friend, you already had sex with him, and you’re beautiful. There’s no way he didn’t think about all of us together after I told him.” That only proved your suggestion.

“And that doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

“Are you kidding me?” The disbelief on her face contradicted any hesitation she had felt before. As though what you had suggested was unbelievable. “I’m the first one to hop in on a potential threesome. You and Chan in one bed with me? Sounds like heaven, if you ask me.”

Your eyes met, your chest rising with every deep breath you took after her revelation.

It was pure respect for Chan stopping you from listening to your heart at that moment. And maybe some fear of what a possible night with your two best friends would do to your friendship.

You found both of them extremely hot. That wasn’t the problem. Nor was your willingness to spend a night with them. This constellation sounded like the one thing that could answer all your questions. Most importantly, your suspicion that monogamy might not be for you. The ticket out of the boredom you felt whenever you slept with someone more than a handful of times. But you also understood it could terminate your strong bond with Chan and Ash on the spot.

Your heart wanted this; it wanted the possibility of an epiphany. Disclosing if this sort of thing was endgame for you. But your brain didn’t budge, telling you it was a mistake. It told you it was wrong even when Ash leaned in, nose brushing against yours. It begged you not to connect your lips as your eyes were drawn to them.

“Say something, Y/N.”

When Ash had found the confidence to look at you this way, eyes eating you up, running down your body and back to your own, you couldn’t tell. She seemed much more reserved and nervous when you first put on that see-through set of lingerie.

Not much of that hesitation was left now.

“What about Chan?”

A smirk played on her lips as she widened the distance, grabbing her phone from behind her. You couldn’t control your gaze wandering down the length of her half-naked body, watching her spine arch as she sat back up, holding the item up.

“He’s only one call away. Probably gaming with Minho, two apartments down.”

It seemed like a blessing and a curse that Chan’s best friend lived right next door. And the thought of calling him was tempting, almost as much as the plumpness of Ash’s lips, curling up into a smirk before wandering between her teeth. Her eagerness was overwhelming, the curve of her ass begging you to grab it, that your brain malfunctioned for merely one second.

You eventually found yourself nodding at her question. Intentionally or not wasn’t a question that concerned you right now.

Her gaze left you, your eyes focused on her as she started typing before setting her phone onto the bedsheet between you. Raising her eyebrows, she nodded towards the screen as you followed her.

Ash had typed mere three words, check marks turning blue after a few seconds, confirming that Chan had read them.

Whatever his thoughts were, there was no turning back now. Either he approved, or he didn’t. And all that because of three words that sounded almost too easy.

10:23 PM: Eating out Y/N – Ash

So easy, but also easily explainable if Chan didn’t like the thought. Ash could tell him she had missed one word, and the text would be soon forgotten. Eating out with Y/N. Easy enough.

Nevertheless, the words excited you to the point you swore your heart almost gave out. Just the thought of Ash’s lips on you sent your heart into overdrive, your breathing shallow as you awaited an answer from Chan.

Your eyes fixed on the phone as though you’d miss his answer if you blinked. You didn’t want to miss the reply for anything, the sound coming from the front door only a minute after she had sent the text making both your heads snap towards the bedroom door.

Mere seconds later, the door was thrown open. An out of breath Chan searched the room and found the two of you sitting in the bed. The same bed they had shared many nights before.

When he scanned the two of you, the position you were in and the clothes you wore, it finally dawned on you that this scene was less simply explainable. You were wearing lingerie, almost naked, and you felt the tension; In the literal and the metaphorical sense.

Chan took a few more moments to speak up, throat dry from… anticipation. Maybe? Hopefully?

“You- Wow!”

Looking between the two of you, Chan became aware of how close you were seated to each other. His gaze lingered on your exposed chest for a few seconds before finally being dragged away and towards his girlfriend, swallowing.

“You texted me.” Finally calming down as he understood, nothing had happened yet, he searched her frame for an answer. For all he knew, Ash could have mistakenly written him. Though, from his expression, you knew he wished for something else. That she meant it. Wanted it.

“I did?” Ash played innocent, hand coming to your thigh, running over the skin and causing goosebumps as you shivered. “What about?”

“You were-” Cutting himself off, Chan looked at you. “I didn’t misread that, did I?”

He took his phone out of his pocket, checking the text she had sent him. A grin spread on her lips as she watched his confused face, searching hers for an answer.

“Oh, yes. I guess I did write you.” Fingers running further up your thighs in deep thought, you bit your tongue not to moan at the mere touch. It felt like your skin was on fire, burning your body and the moment into your brain. “Y/N and I were talking. Do you remember what happened at Jisung’s 21st birthday party? When Y/N and I slept on his pull-out?”

“I- I do,” Chan answered quicker than you had expected, revealing that he had thought of the same thing within the past few minutes.

“And remember when I told you about it? How you almost busted at the mere thought?” Swallowing hard, Chan looked at you for a second, debating whether to answer before doing so anyway. This moment was too tempting for him to deny the embarrassing effect your one night with Ash had on him. He was only a man, nodding once he figured that agreeing would give him more than it would take. “Do you want that fantasy to become reality?”

“I- I-” You had never seen Chan stutter so much in the almost 20 years you knew him. He must have really been anxious about this. Or for this to happen, maybe? “Y/N?”

“Oh, Y/N’s perfectly fine with it. Aren’t you, baby?”

Catching Ash’s sight, you nodded, taking a deep breath when she leaned in, eyes on your lips before she finally closed the space after what had felt like hours. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of her lips against your own, her sweet taste mixed with the Tequila as intoxicating as can be.

As she moved against you, her hand came to your neck to keep you steady, your heart palpitating out of rhythm. She must have felt it at your neck, the vein pounding against her fingers, so she drew away, throwing you a questioning look. You understood she was asking you if you were still with her, so you became active and closed the gap again. Your own hand met her shoulder as you pulled her towards you.

The moan from Chan took you out of the moment, a stupid grin on both your faces as you looked over at him. It was unmistakable that he didn’t know what to do; what his role in this scene was. So you moved apart, patting the space between you.

With both of you still clad in that dang lingerie, the whole scene could have been straight out of a porno movie. One of the good ones, with years’ worth of plot.

Chan closed the door behind himself, muscle memory taking over as his brain couldn’t be trusted. He took the spot between you, hands unsteady as he looked from one side to the other.

“Babe?”

“Huh?” Ash chuckled at his intense reaction speed, hand coming to his cheek to get him to focus. Chan was on edge, tipping over any second if one of you were to make the wrong – or in this case, right – move. So much was clear.

“Relax, okay?” He nodded, though from his fingers anxiously fiddling in his lap, you knew he’d need more confirmation than that.

Ash seemed to get Chan just as well, leaning in and planting her lips onto his. You noticed Chan relaxing on impact, hands now stilling their erratic movement.

You watched them kiss for a few seconds, your hand coming to his thigh as Ash dragged it there. She wanted you to join the fun, guiding your fingers along the thick muscle. Her action was met with gratitude, as you otherwise wouldn’t have participated at all.

After a few moments of intimacy between the couple, Ash pulled Chan off her, tilting his head towards you by his chin. He took the hint, inching in closer, his eyes drawn to your lips before they finally tumbled upon meeting. You did, too, a breathy sigh leaving your mouth as though his kiss breathed energy back into you.

Ash’s grip on your hand didn’t falter as she interlaced your fingers with hers, running higher up his leg. Soon enough, your hands met the visible tent in his sweatpants, softly running over the length of it. Memories of his size came flooding back as you touched him, having caused you some discomfort the first time you had been with him. Been with anyone.

Years ago, when you had lost your virginity to the same man you were presently palming, he had been so careful not to hurt you. Today, you knew you could take him better. You had been with many men since then, your body learning to adjust to someone his size. Excitement filled you as you imagined showing him how much you had learned over the years.

You noticed Ash peppering Chan’s neck with kisses while guiding your hands around him, setting the pace and pressure. He seemed to like it, moaning and whimpering into your mouth whenever you stroked him a little harsher. It didn’t surprise you to learn that he liked it rough.

When he pulled away from you after what had felt like minutes, his cheeks were tinted an innocent pink, a smile spreading over his face to his eyes.

“Can you-” Sobbing at one particularly harsh stroke, he collected himself before looking back at his girlfriend, “Can you kiss again?”

Smiling at you, Ash’s second hand came to your chin, pulling you in. Your lips met right before his eyes, a whine escaping him at the combined stimulation from his view and your hands on him. You couldn’t help thinking this must have been even better than any of his fantasies. For you, it was anyways.

Ash nibbled at your bottom lip, pulling on it every few seconds to catch your gaze with a wink. She was so enticing – almost toxically so – you could barely take your eyes off her. If Chan hadn’t been here, capturing just as much of your attention, you would have been all over her already.

When she threw a side-eyed look at her boyfriend, your eyes finally left her, a smirk dancing over her features as your tangled hands ran up his body, pushing him to lay flat on the mattress.

“Y/N, baby, why don’t you give him a little show? Show him some of what you learned since the last time.”

Call it telepathy, but you instantly understood what she was referring to. Chan must have told her about the awkward experience when you had tried sucking him off all those years ago. Being best friends for years, she had also heard how well those particular skills had developed. Not that you had a reputation for giving good blowjobs, but you had certainly been given your fair share of compliments over the years. You didn’t know when, but you must have let that information slip to her at some point.

Dragging Chan’s shirt over his head, Ash exposed his chest to you, all your movements stopping in their tracks.

Now, he had been well-built back then. He had always had a swimmer’s body through and through. It startled you at 18 and did the same to you today.

Your eyes followed Ash’s fingers as she let them glide down his shoulders, between his pectoral muscles and down to his abs. That dang six-pack – or rather eight-pack – he barely let show under other circumstances. On the occasional pool day, sure. But you had always been around other people then. You couldn’t have possibly admired his body for what it was then.

Chan’s body was handcrafted by the Gods and hours at the gym. A dangerous combination you hadn’t seen elsewhere. Chan and Ash together were a true sight to see, eyes locking as her fingers raked over his naked skin. And you were the one at the receiving end of it. Whatever reason that was for.

It took you a moment to comprehend that – yes, this was really happening – for you to travel back to the present. Getting off the bed and settling between Chan’s thighs, your fingers experimentally circled his abs, memorising their respective shape and location for future reference. Chan gasped at the coldness of your fingers, eyes finding yours once they ran further down, teasing the hem of his sweatpants. Lust filled her every fibre as you didn’t mind Ash following your every move. If anything, it spurred you on further. You now had an audience other than Chan, who was at the receiving end of your attack.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like that, baby.”

Ash’s words made you smile, pride filling your motions. If you wanted to show them your abilities before, you were dying to have them watch you now.

Delicately, you dragged down his sweats with help from the man himself, taking your sweet time in undressing him.

Even through the fabric of his boxer briefs, Chan looked painfully hard. Keeping your eyes locked with his, you put your lips against his right thigh, agonisingly slowly dragging them further up. You left a wet trail of saliva on his skin, hands following your mouth until you reached his briefs.

“Fuck me,” Chan groaned, throwing his head back against his girlfriend when you licked a stripe up his length over the fabric. Ash pulled his head up, positioning it against her chest.

“Keep your eyes on her, babe. She’s doing you a favour here. Might as well honour her properly.”

You ignored her words meant for someone else, instead letting your fingers reach under the last piece of Chan’s clothing. Giving him an innocent smile with your lip wandering between your teeth, you finally rid him of the constraint, cock slapping against his stomach once freed.

It was right then that this moment finally reached your brain. You finally understood what was happening. You were having sex. Your two best friends and you. And if you weren’t doing it now, you were about to. So close, you could almost taste him. Taste her. Their combined atmosphere.

The air was thick, like a veil hanging over your mind. It was hot, too. So hot your bodies were coated in sweat despite having done almost nothing. Nothing but kiss them. Your best friends. The two people that should have been the most platonic of relationships you had.

Still, you were kissing them like you wanted them. Needed them. And you did.

This moment would go down in your personal history – the story of your life, if you will – as your sexual awakening.

The first taste of Chan made you moan. An overall saltiness covered his shaft, his pre-cum coating him and his boxer briefs. Chan groaned when you touched him, finally touched him, where he had needed you most. The first true relief he got from his overall arousal made him long for more of both of you.

Ash was right there with you, hands on him, mouth sucking on his neck while her eyes were focused on you. Her gaze burned into the top of your head as you licked all over him, from base to tip, coaxing him to tell you what he wanted. You needed to hear it from him, her, anyone, really. Ash seemed to understand your longing for approval.

“Tell her what you want her to do, babe.”

Honestly, in the one or two times your mind had wandered to this moment – imagining a dimension in which you were with them rather than by their side – you hadn’t imagined Ash to take over control as she did now.

She wasn’t the most open person, her upbringing of always having to behave prim and proper sending a tint to her cheeks every time someone even mentioned something slightly raunchy. The woman watching you sucking her boyfriend off, urging him to talk to you while you did, was someone else. She seemed like a different person, curiosity getting the best of her.

“Please, Y/N.” Chan was begging, digits coming to your cheeks as he ran his thumb across your jaw. “Make me feel good. Take me in. All of me.”

And all of him, you took.

After years of training, blowing almost every man you had been with, you knew just what to do to make him see stars. You moved slowly but purposefully, coaxing him to his release as though this was a competition. As though you wanted to break some record.

“Fuck-” Chan cursed, hands tangling in your hair as he guided you around his length. As much as you let him, that was.

You wouldn’t let him take over completely, some of the control staying on your side as you didn’t let it go. Didn’t want to let it go.

You wanted him to go crazy, and giving him control would stop you from providing one crucial part of the experience. The suspense. The not knowing where you’d go next. When you’d wrap lips around his head, sucking. Or when you’d deep throat him, hollowing your cheeks around him.

You did all that but tried surprising him with a rhythm. A pattern, driven by no more than your imagination. As much a surprise to you as to him. Whatever felt right at that moment, always overwatched by his girlfriend, providing hints on what to do, guiding you through some of it as she knew what he liked. How to make him feral.

You had no doubt that she knew what he liked and how he preferred it. Her words stirred you on – harder, kitten licks, take more, less – having you obey wherever she led you. Like she was in control over your mind even more than you were. And that, she was. She was in control and dominant, but not exclusively so. That became very clear, her mind slipping when Chan put his hand around her neck, squeezing some while running his lips over Ash’s neck.

This whole thing seemed crazy, straight out of a porno. You sucking off Chan while he peppered his girlfriend with sexual advances. Some might have become jealous of how she and not you were on the receiving end of his touches. She deserved to participate every bit as much as you. Maybe even more, for letting you, another woman, pleasure her boyfriend. Her best friend, but a woman, nonetheless.

Swallowing around Chan’s length, you felt his thighs tense below your digits. He was close, so much was evident. Though Ash seemed to have other plans than letting you finish him off.

She pulled you off him and towards herself, knees leaving the ground as your lips met in a heated kiss. This kiss, other than the ones before, was filled with less caution. She wanted you, wanted to feel you, cherish you, have as much of you as Chan had.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Whoever Chan was referring to, it didn’t matter. It was probably the two of you together, making out heatedly above him, giving him a sight for months.

Ash sucked on your lip, almost drawing blood from how needy she was for you.

“Let me taste you.” As though you had read her mind.

She guided you onto the bed, laying you beside her boyfriend, higher up towards the headboard. Chan was never far, following you like a lost puppy, hoping for a front-row seat to the show.

Smiling at you, Ash crawled over your body, towering above you as though she was so much bigger than you. Right now, she seemed to be anyways. She leaned in to peck your lips, slowly trailing her path down your neck. Kissing over the junction of neck and face, you rolled your head back against the mattress, eyes closed at her overpowering movements.

Your skin was on fire, burning to your flesh wherever she touched you. Her lips were on your chest, hands on your waist, and one of her legs between yours, so your whole body was going up in flames below her. When she slipped further down your frame, lips suddenly circling to your hipbones, you thought your soul evaded you.

Slowly dipping her hands below your garters, letting them snap against your skin in short, piercing stings, you noticed Chan watching the scene before him. You grabbed his hands, bringing them to your upper body, for the first time touching him without Ash’s supervision.

You felt Ash’s tongue over your navel as you guided Chan’s hands to cup your breasts. He seemed unsure, gaze searching for Ash to get her approval, though she was occupied otherwise. So, he merely laid himself beside you, on his side, for better access to you. With one hand still on your breast, fumbling with the straps, he connected his mouth with yours.

You hummed in his mouth as the combined touches quickly drove you crazy. When Ash pulled your – or rather her – panties to the side, licking a slow stripe up your folds, you stopped in your tracks.

Most of your previous partners had known how to go down on you well enough. They had understood the main anatomy of it all. Where to lick, what to prod. Still, none of them had ever understood it as well as Ash seemed to. The last, previously only time you had been together, you had gone down on her. Had you known just how skilled she was at it, you would have asked for retaliation then and there.

With Chan’s fingers circling your nipples and Ash’s mouth on your clit, sucking lightly before kitten-licking over it, you would not last long. So much was clear. It also didn’t help that they communicated with each other, driving you to insanity in unison. They synched their every movement, providing you with so much constant and unfaltering pleasure that all you could do was lay there and let them.

Your body was trembling already, kissing Chan becoming more of an inactive action. How could you have properly kissed him back when they were working wonders on you?

When Ash’s fingers came into play, knocking against your entrance, it became too much.

You threw your head against the mattress, a low growl escaping your lips as Chan moved in, kissing over your chest. His lips engulfed your nipples in a warm, wet hug as his girlfriend continued to lick you in a perfect rhythm, your heart palpitations adapting instantly.

“Fuck!” Seemingly, the only word that was left in your foggy brain.

Usually, you directed your partners, telling them what to do and how to better their performance. None of it was necessary, as both of them just knew. Knew what you liked. Knew how you liked it. Knew your body like their own. That’s what it felt like, at least. Like all of you were on the same page, written in the very same font.

Soon enough, Ash found your spot, rubbing her digits against it to the beat of your heart. It filled you with a need for release. You had been trying to hold back on moaning, unsure how much their walls could take before they’d get complaints. Though, with the amount of pleasure coursing through you, you couldn’t control your sounds anymore.

Groans tumbled over your lips, muffled only by Chan’s mouth on yours.

“You sound so good. Music to my ears.”

His confession somewhat went by you as too much else was on your mind to focus on and properly take it in.

“I think she’s close,” Chan warned his girlfriend, who gave your clit one last kiss before withdrawing. Your mind cleared of the fog, eyes hazily opening while looking down at your two partners. “Welcome back, baby.”

You smiled at Chan and the nickname they had chosen for you, running your hands over your face as you tried to regain composure.

“This is a good angle on you.” Ash grinned up at you, chin moist from your arousal, so she wiped it off.

“I would like to note that this is better than any of my dreams.” Another confession from Chan you didn’t know how to react to, though you didn’t need to act on it. Ash took over, pushing her boyfriend onto his back to lie flat against the mattress.

“Are you ready for the grand finale?”

Whatever she had in mind, her expression told you it would be good.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a seat?” Nodding towards Chan, you quickly understood her intention, cheeks reddening as you crawled over to him. Ash gave you a hand as you positioned yourself over Chan’s length, under constant supervision of the man himself, before guiding you onto him.

It took you a couple of seconds to fit all of him, carefully moving as you adapted to his size. It had been a while since you had anyone close to it, so they patiently waited for you to be comfortable.

Pressing a kiss to your lips, Ash pulled you off once you gave her the go, pushing Chan back into you until he bottomed out. He hit spots inside you no one had ever done before; it almost felt like he was right there, tip kissing your cervix. Without the comforting kisses from Ash, you probably would have given up already.

After about a minute of riding him, slow and steadily guided by Ash’s delicate fingers, you had gotten entirely used to Chan. Smiling warmly at you, Ash gave you one last kiss before letting go of you.

She tongued over Chan’s abs, licking her way up his beautiful body. You could tell from the way his Adam’s apple bobbed that he was overwhelmed by the joined stimulation from the two of you. Somehow, knowing he wasn’t doing any better than you made you feel better about yourself. It reminded you that all of you were in this together; them just as much virgins to this as you.

As you slowly bobbed on Chan, steadying yourself by his hips, Ash finally landed at his face, planting a heated kiss onto his lips, their tongues slipping into each other’s mouths. The sinfulness of it all urged you to move faster as you leaned forward to feel his pelvis rub against your clit.

You couldn’t believe there could be more stimulation for your arousal, though you figured you were wrong once Ash took a seat on Chan’s face. Her excited gaze met yours as she sank onto his waiting tongue, moaning when he moved it against her. Holding herself up on his torso, Ash was close enough to kiss you, moaning into your mouth when her boyfriend’s hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her closer. How he wasn’t suffocating was a mystery.

You brought one hand to Ash’s breasts, pulling the cups of her bra down and playing with them as she was brought closer and closer to her release. She seemed to close in on her impending orgasm unbelievably fast, considering she hadn’t been as involved in your ministrations previously. Until now, she had taken a guiding role, comparable to the narrator of your favourite erotic novel. No doubt, the dominance slipped out of her grip as she was stimulated beyond belief by hands and tongues all over her body.

Wriggling her hand from underneath her, she let it wander up your arm towards your neck, pulling you closer to kiss you deeper.

The occasional moan escaped her plump lips as you tasted her strawberry lipgloss mixed with your juices. When Chan’s tongue hit a particular speed, lapping at his girlfriend like a man starved, Ash lost her cool, throwing her head back into her neck. You seized the opportunity to connect your mouth to her neck, sucking at the tender flesh.

“Fuck…”

Now it was her turn to be overwhelmed, her body spasming under the touch of your hands and lips. Chan didn’t let go yet, forcing her to remain on his greedy tongue as she was the first to tip over the edge. Overstimulation set in soon enough, her pleading eyes rolling back as you kissed her, swallowing her moans as best as you could.

Her eyes turned black as she nearly choked on the pain and pleasure, the view threatening to burn into your brain for eternity. Never had you seen someone so sinister, no porn actress or actor able to fake an orgasm so mesmerising. Your movements slowed down to take in hers, both your hands coming to her chest to twist at her nipples, bare breasts laying heavy in your hands. That Chan hadn’t stilled his ministrations yet told you that there was some understanding between them; overstimulation an usual part of their sex life.

You were more than willing to participate, leaning forward to take one of her nipples between your lips. You rolled it softly, tongue prodding at its stiffness before giving the other the same attention.

Ash, still trembling on top of Chan’s tongue, kept her hands at the back of your neck, drawing you in closer. It was then that you understood how Chan could handle such little airflow. Having a beauty just like Ash as the reason for your lack of oxygen seemed like the best way to go out; death was more than acceptable if it was to cause her pleasure. Her wanting and longing for constant pressure on all her vital body parts.

When a second orgasm hit her not soon after the first one, you weren’t surprised. It had been inevitable with how well you cared for her, touching her most delicate spots everywhere, all at once. A whine escaped her as the overstimulation eventually became too much, pulling you off her chest and herself off her boyfriend.

Looking down at Chan, you shared a smile of pride, patiently waiting for Ash to come down at her own speed.

“Fuck. Me.”

The words out of your best friend’s mouth made both you and Chan chuckle.

“You want to go again? Fine by me.”

“God, no.” Ash quickly answered, swatting Chan’s hands away when he tried pulling her back down. She rolled off him easily, taking another few seconds to catch her breath as her eyes met yours. “Let’s focus on you again.”

Ash noticed you had stopped moving, still seated on Chan’s lap and your hands running silently over his abs. Moving her boyfriend back a few centimetres, he finally reached the headboard, placing himself against it. When Ash positioned herself behind you, hands on your hips, she began guiding you on top of him.

In this new position, Chan reached even deeper parts of you, if that was even possible. The added pleasure from Ash’s second hand, grazing over your nipples, brought you right back to the orgasm that had previously been so reachable. Chan’s fingers met hers at your hip, sharing their task to move you over his length.

“Do you feel him? Reaching so deep you almost suffocate?”

Ash’s words were met with a wordless whimper, your head thrown against her shoulder. Her lips came to your neck, sucking at the flesh as all their attention was drawn to you. Chan himself appeared to close in on his release. Still, his eyes were focused on your body, his second hand coming to your clit and softly rubbing into it. It only pushed you closer to the edge, all this stimulation from the two most attractive people you had ever met.

When Chan started kissing the other side of your neck, his tongue lapping at your skin as his plump lips wrapped around your vein, your movements became sloppier.

“So close,” was all you could say before they sped up, together pushing you over the edge.

You spasmed on top of Chan, abs tightening and loosening as your thighs contracted beneath their hands. The crumbling of your walls sent Chan over the edge seconds later, his seed filling you. Deliciously and warm.

You had never been to heaven before, but this was damn close to what you expected it to be like. The level of satisfaction filling your body, reaching into the deepest parts of your bones, seemed unattainable; the mere concept of how it felt better than any dream, any fantasy you could have ever come up with.

A dazed “Fuck” left all of you collectively as your eyes searched the ceiling for leverage. Your mind was hazy, sight still blurry as you came down from your high. Chan and Ash weren’t doing any better spread out wordlessly beside you – Chan in between his girlfriend and you.

When your eyes finally slowed down, features forming faces again, your head turned to the couple beside you. Ash had her head on Chan’s chest as they took deep breaths, almost in unison. Watching them seemed so intimate. Almost too much so, both their eyes closed as they bathed in the afterglow. You wanted to give them a moment, so you sat up, missing how Chan was reaching out for you to pull you against him.

His release dribbled out of you and into your – or rather Ash’s – panties as you got up, mumbling something about getting some drinks before hurrying out of the room.

Once you reached the kitchen, you searched their fridge for cold water bottles. It was when you closed the fridge door that you finally caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the digital screen.

Your makeup was smudged, your eyes heavy, and your stomach dropping at the settling reality the first moment your head cleared. That’s when your thoughts began racing a never-ending marathon, your pupils following an invisible line from left to right in your reflection.

You had just had sex with your best friends. You had just had the best sex ever with your best friends. You had just had the best sex ever with your best friends, and things would definitely be different now. And what if it wasn’t good different? What if your dynamic had just now changed so much that you’d lost them? What if they regretted it? What if they didn’t like you like that – the way you liked them?

Because you did. You liked them. And not how other people liked their best friends. You liked them as you had never liked anyone before. Some people would have probably called it love, though you had never truly felt love for anyone before. Or at least that’s how it felt right this moment. Because if you had loved all the people before them, then what was this? What stronger bond was there than love?

Chan and Ash made you feel like no San, no Yeonjun, and no Soyeon had ever made you feel. It had taken years and multiple sexual encounters – with Chan and Ash separately, other people in between, and both together just now – to recognise that. You had never liked anyone like that before. And you couldn’t imagine ever liking anyone like that in the future.

You shook your head to snap yourself out of this because, no. You couldn’t overthink this. Not when they were in the next room, still coming down from what had happened. It wasn’t as though you could take it back, anyways. It had happened, and the only thing you could do was move on. However you were supposed to do that, you hadn’t quite figured out yet.

“Here you go.”

Entering the bedroom after a minute, you sat on the mattress, handing one of the two bottles to Chan before taking a sip from your own. That sip was about half the bottle, the previous physical activity seemingly more exhausting than it had shown first.

“Thanks,” Ash thanked you when Chan handed her the bottle after gulping down his own half of it.

Silence took over the room as the three of you calmed your breathing to its usual rhythm.

Unsurprisingly, Ash was the first to cut the silence, having been the main instigator for everything that had happened within the past hour, “So… That happened.”

“Sure did,” Chan agreed, eyes meeting Ash’s as they fell into giggles. You didn’t know what to make of this, so you stayed silent, watching them in confusion and adoration. “Fuck, that actually happened. I can’t believe it.”

Looking at you, he reached out to pull you closer. This time, you let him.

“How are you feeling? You’re unusually quiet.”

“I’m-” you trailed off, hand on your hip causing goosebumps to rise all over your stomach. “Good. Still a little dizzy, to be honest.”

“Yeah, this was a lot.” Ash smiled at you, her fingers trailing over Chan’s abs absentmindedly. “So, Chan and I have been talking.”

Ash’s eyes met Chan’s as he nodded in encouragement.

“We – Chan and I – feel like something is missing between us. We’ve been feeling like this for a while, actually. But we never quite figured it out before just now.” Smirking while her gaze met you, Ash’s cheeks turned a shade of crimson. “We believe we’ve found it. In you.”

“You figured that out in the minute I was gone to get water?”

It was a half-joke, her words baffling you. The swarm of bees in your stomach only made you giddier, your body shivering as the impact of Ash’s words got to you. They wanted you, too.

“No, silly.” Ash chuckled, her hand coming to meet your waist. “We’ve been talking for a while. A few months, maybe. We joked about inviting a third party into our relationship before, but we didn’t really assume it would lead anywhere. As I said, we only just figured out that’s what we want.”

Chan’s head turned to you, heart palpitating against his chest under your palm.

“If that’s what you want, of course. You can totally think about it first if you like. Or you can say ‘no’ right away. Just-” A sigh left Chan’s lips as he let himself breathe through his nervousness. “We really, really like you.”

“You do?” you questioned in disbelief, all the worrying from before ejected from your mind, carried by the bees that went berserk at his words.

“Yes. I’ve sort of been in love with you since that night at Jisung’s.”

Ash’s confession knocked the air right out of your lungs.

“And I’ve loved you since we met in kindergarten. So, I guess that means I win?”

And just then, you considered yourself braindead.

Hearing how long they’ve felt this way about you made your heart swell, your arteries burst and rendered your body practically useless. They had loved you for years. Felt this way about you for years. And you, well, if you were being completely honest with yourself, had loved them like this for about the same time. You just hadn’t identified the feeling correctly until now.

But that hardly mattered. Because, as you sat on their bed after having had the best experience of your life, laughing at Chan’s words, your heart and mind numb from how much you wanted to be with them, nothing else mattered anymore. Because you had found your place, and you wouldn’t give up your seat at that table for as long as you still had power over yourself.

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