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#and they just didn't do anything with him
a-b-riddle · 2 days
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Part 2
Can't stop thinking about reader finally cutting them loose.
For three days there was nothing but radio silence. In those three days you had told yourself that it was a grace period. Time for Simon to cool off and realize how much of a bastard he was for saying all those things he obviously didn't mean. Johnny coming back over with a bouquet of flowers and endless apologies and cuddles.
Simon didn't apologize for his harsh words.
Johnny didn't call you later, as promised.
For three days you jumped at every single notification, silently hoping it was one of them. Any of them.
But it wasn't.
And you, unfortunately, got the answer to the question you had been asking yourself for months.
Did they still want this?
The answer was clear.
You didn't let their unofficial dismissal get to you. You still had shit to do. A life to get on to. A book signing to go to.
Jesus.
A book signing. A book you wrote. A book that was being published and released the day of the expo. You weren't expecting a huge line because this was your debut novel, but with the help of some ARC readers who had took to social media, there had been a bit of a storm brewing.
You had listened to John when he had mentioned writing under an alias. Don't know how crazy people are out there. They'd do anything to get close to you, Dove. Just better to protect yourself where you can. You almost hated yourself for listening to him now. Now you would just have to keep writing under your pen name.
You were getting ready to close up shop early when your phone finally pinged.
Kyle.
Fuck.
Of course it was Kyle. The one who hadn't treated you like you were constantly bothering him. Not the one who made you feel guilty for agreeing to your arrangement. Nor was he the one who fucked you and left you. No. He was just the one who just wasn't there.
Maybe that was just as bad.
What are you up to today?
That was it. Almost two weeks of radio silence and that's all he had to say? It just added more evidence that you were making the right call in ending this now. It had already carried on for too long.
You had two things on your to-do list and you wouldn't let Kyle's sudden reappearance deter you.
E-mail the publisher back.
Change the locks.
You didn't have the strength to face them again. If they groveled, it would be too easy to take them back. One against four wasn't much of a fair fight. And if they didn't care to fight for you... you don't know if you could survive it. Coming face-to-face with the proof that it didn't bother them to give you up even though it was killing you.
No. Cutting it off completely was the best thing to do.
So you didn't respond.
You left Kyle's text unanswered as you e-mailed the publisher back that everything was set for your flight on tomorrow morning. You would spend Thursday adjusting to the time difference and Friday you would rest up before the expo this weekend. She assured you that you would need to rest up your writing hand. Whatever that means.
You left Kyle read as you closed up shop several hours earlier than usual. You needed to drop off the bank deposit before you started on task number two.
You didn't bothering responding to Johnny when he had texted you when you were leaving the hardware store, purchase in hand. Asking if you were free Friday. Promising dinner. 'In or out. Your choice.'
It was almost second nature when you got home to pull up your phone. Ready to text one of them to see which one of them could come over and help.
Fixing a leaky sink? Nothing Johnny hasn't seen before. Need help moving furniture? John won't mind when you change your several times on what should go where. Kyle would always come in with take out the moment you mentioned you were hungry and whenever you felt like going for a walk when it was a bit too late in the evening, Simon was the first to volunteer as your personal guard dog.
But asking them to come and change the very lock you planned on using to keep them out seemed... counter productive, if not downright petty.
You were almost done with the lock when your phone sounded off. Only this time it wasn't a text. Someone was calling you.
You almost faltered when John's name came on your screen.
Fuck.
That almost got you.
You almost answered it.
Almost.
You clicked on the 'Sorry, I can't talk right now. Options, before finishing up your work.
And just like that, you were done. No help needed. You had changed the lock. Even adding on a deadbolt. Replacing the flimsy chain Simon had taunted you about. If someone wanted to get in here, that wouldn't stop them.
Well, now you didn't need to hear it anymore.
Not that you would really hear it again...
Your flight was in twelve hours. Although that seemed an ample amount of time you hadn't even begun to pack. You had luckily narrowed your outfits down, but now was the task of folding it nicely into your suitcase rather than just stuffing it in there.
On my way. We need to talk.
It was too late for talking. Three days too late. Several months too late.
The last message sent was four weeks ago. A new Thai place had opened up close to your apartment that you were wanting to try. All of them had given you excuses.
Not my taste, Dove.
Cannae do it tonight. Next weekend? Next weekend didn't happen either.
I can do tomorrow. Kyle ended up bailing. You forget the excuse he used.
Simon hadn't even bothered to reply.
The final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Almost two years wasted with nothing, but a broken heart to show for it. And the worst part is, they had all chipped away at your heart, leaving you to deal with the final blow that would shatter it.
Im sorry. I can’t do this with you anymore. wish you all the best.
Your fingers made quick work in blocking their numbers. It was best. If they wanted to reach you, they couldn't. On the other side of the coin, if they didn't care to reply, you wouldn't spend countless hours crying over the fact that none of them had been affected the same way you had.
You would deal with getting them their belongings that they had left behind another time. You had big things, great things happening for you. You were cutting your loses. You were cutting them loose.
You just hoped you didn’t regret it.
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sleepypanda27 · 3 days
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Bucky's Crush
Bucky x reader
Summary: Sam is tired of Bucky not doing anything to get the girl he likes. So he helps out a bit.
Words: 710
Warnings: Cute and nervous Bucky
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It was an early morning in the compound. Sam was telling Bucky some story of his adventures, but that turned into white noise when he saw you walking into the kitchen. Still in your pajama and unbrushed, messy hair. You walked to the mug cupboard and stretched, yawning.
"Want some coffee?" Bucky asked with a smile in his voice.
"Yes, please." You leaned against the kitchen island, watching Bucky intently as he made you coffee. Who knew that making coffee could be so sexy?
"Good morning, by the way." He said in a little raspy voice from sleep.
"Hi, good morning." You blushed, tucking hair behind your ear, and smiled awkwardly, hoping he didn't notice you staring at him.
"There you go." His eyes were locked with yours as he gave you a cup with steam coming from it.
"Thank you, Bucky." Inhaling the delicious scent, you thanked him.
"You're welcome, doll." He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. Subtly, his eyes traveled up and down your body, making you blush again. You went back to your room, thinking you should try to blush less in Bucky's presence.
Bucky shook his head with a smile and looked at Sam, who was staring at him. "What?"
"Seriously?"
"What?" Bucky didn't understand what was his problem.
"I was talking to you, dude."
"I heard you."
"Okay then. What was the last thing you heard?"
"Ummm...that you like seeds and breadcrumbs." Bucky shrugged.
"Ugh, just ask her out already." Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed.
"I will..." Bucky looked into the hallway you went to just seconds ago. "Someday."
Sam had arranged a movie night, making you and Bucky sit together. It was all highly suspicious because you three were the only people there.
Bucky's musky cologne mixed with the faded scent of the leather jacket he had worn earlier, lingered on his hoodie. You had to fight against the urge to just melt into your seat.
He pretended to yawn, stretching his arms in the air, and placing his arm around your shoulders, gauging your reaction. Naturally, you moved closer to his side. He had to bite his cheeks to stop the smile from turning too big.
Sam bailed pretty early, knowing that if you two were left alone, you would feel more free and open up.
After a while, you stood up, and Bucky thought 'Well, this is it, he went too far too soon.' But you only took a blanket and then returned to your seat by his side. This time, snuggling even closer to him.
His mind reeled with all kinds of different thoughts. All of them included you. He wondered did he remembered how to kiss. Can you even forget something like that? Now, he went too far and was overthinking.
You could feel and hear his relentless heartbeat, or maybe it was yours you couldn't quite tell.
You couldn't take the tension anymore. You spun around so fast that you startled both of you. Placing your hand softly on his nape, you slowly leaned closer, giving him a chance to stop this, but instead, he closed the distance. As soon as your lips met, it was like he forgot all of his previous worries.
Bucky couldn't hide the smile anymore and he didn't want to. Feeling the dog tags around his neck, you wrapped the silver chain around your fingers, tugging him to you while lying back on the couch. Which he gladly followed.
After a while, Bucky pulled away from you, looking to the side, where Sam was slowly and carefully creeping to the place where he was sitting earlier.
Noticing that he's caught, Sam stopped. "Don't mind me, I just forgot my phone. He quickly run after the phone. "Carry on." He shot you both a smile and left.
Laughing, you hid your face in your palms from embarrassment. Bucky chuckled, gently taking your hands off your face. "You are so damn cute, doll."
Now you were blushing even harder.
Bucky turned off the TV and, easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your squeal turned into giggles. "Where are we going?"
"To my room." He smiled, "So we can watch the movie and make out without interruption."
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railingsofsorrow · 3 days
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don't walk out
[spencer reid x reader]
summary: “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”  pairing: s.reid x gn!reader  w.c: 1K warnings/content: implied abandoned issues; argument; silent treatment (brief); language; angst.  A/N: guess I'm on a roll today. I just love some angst. 
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“is that supposed to make me feel better?”  
lights had barely been turned on when you spat out a response, breaking the tense silence. your apartment was tidy, nothing out of order, even the pillows where settled two on each edge of the couch like you always did before leaving for work.  
it was the expected. three days away on a case didn't exactly mean your house would turn upside down, would it? unanimated things didn't move on their own. but one thing that was turning upside down was your mood. not only did the journey home came with lots of turbulence, but Spencer had to make an unpleasant comment that made your blood boil. was it wrong that you just wanted to not look at him right now? you were even considering not sleeping beside him tonight. 
“for fucks sake.” you mumbled under your breath when he had stayed silent. he's ignoring you now. great. throwing your work bag on the couch, you didn't even take your shoes off as you moved back toward the door. you can't handle his passive aggressive act and you certainly won't handle his silence treatment.  
“where are you going?” he called out, shuffling out of the bedroom upon hearing the sound of keys dangling. no. no, you're not leaving, are you? “what—” 
“i'm gonna take a walk, spencer.” 
it didn't take a second for him to rush over and stop your exit by blocking the door. “what are the car keys for then?” desperation clouded his tone and you felt guilt building up in your chest, but it wasn't bigger than your frustration.  
“I'm gonna drive.” 
“at this time of the night? you hate driving at night.” 
“are you my father?” he almost flinched at your sharp tone. okay, he deserved that hostility. he's been nothing but rude to you the entire jet ride back home. it's not that you did anything — even if you had done something, it does not justify the way he was treating you —, the case had been hard. it involved kids. the team wasn't fast enough. he wasn't fast enough. you almost got hurt. it was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time.  
he never wanted this: you walking out while you were mad at each other. no. you had made a deal long ago. you both were laughing after your first stupid argument, something about forgetting to fold the laundry.  
“okay, but we can be like this, right?” you said, nudging him. “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.” 
his eyes soften and he almost turns to mush. he understood then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. and yes. you would be mad and you would upset each other but leaving was off the table. he could do that. there was nothing he'd want more. 
but now he'd cross a line. didn't he? how dare he do that? how dare he cause you do want to walk out? 
“i'm sorry.” spencer is still at the doorway when you ask him to move. he won't move. he can't. “i really am. I shouldn't have said that. it was out of line.” 
“really?” you snap. he hears the edge in your voice and the crack. it breaks him. he just wants to hold you, he never meant—means to hurt you. “then why did you? why would you even think about something like that?”  
he holds back his breath of relief once you've put the keys back in the bowl. the lump in his throat diminishing slightly. 
“i was upset. angry— at the case. the whole situation, not you.“ he clarified. “sweetheart, i'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” you're searching his face for some indication of lie that you won't find. “i'm sorry.” 
“you're an idiot.” your anger is gone, there's just frustration now. maybe at yourself, because you can't really stay mad at him as he stares at you with those eyes.  
“i am,” he admits, no ounce of hesitation in his tone. he's fairly certain he is, in fact, an idiot. “i'm sorry.” he repeats and he will repeat over and over again until you forgive him. he will beg if he has to. “don't leave, please.” 
and that is not fair. it's not. he can't make you mad and say sorry and all will be forgiven. he can't look at you with those eyes and think things will be magically fixed. 
but then your armor cracks. suddenly, his behaviour makes sense. 
we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave. 
“i wasn't going to—” you're ashamed at this point. you were so blinded by anger that you'd do something you promised to never do. “you know I wouldn't leave, right?” then his desperation in reaching the door before you makes sense and you're taken back to the moment you promised not to walk out in a fight. that's exactly what you where about to do.  
“i'm sorry.” you say, staring at the keys in your hands. “i didn't think before acting.”  
spencer nods slowly, taking a step closer towarss your frame. “and I didn't think before speaking. I'm the one that should be sorry.” 
you caught a glimpse at his twitchy fingers and takes one of his hands into your own, letting the keys slip to the floor as you yank him to your arms. he only complies by squeezing you against him. and finally, both of you have what you've been craving since this case started: each other's comfort.  
and then, you repeat. “i wasn't going to leave, you know that, right?”  
“yeah.” he burries his face into your neck and his voice is muffled by your skin. “yeah, I know.” 
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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ; 
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acciojaeyun · 2 days
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under the web | p.sh.
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PAIRING. officemate!sunghoon x fem!reader
SUMMARY. there's something about the way people seemed to scurry about whenever park sunghoon from the IT department would be coming to whichever area of the office. that's something that would be all because of you, his lovely officemate. your constant teasing and mockery of that one thing you know about park sunghoon made it seem to reach the headlines, and park sunghoon was determined to let you know that you're not the boss here.
CONTENTS. smut, some angst, some fluff. smut with plot. not beta-read. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
SMUT WARNINGS. making out, humiliation, implied dom vs. dom dynamics, dirty talk, slight exhibition, curses, virginity, unprotected sex (please practice safe s), reader is a jealous menace (a bit stalker-ish), mentions of manga, mentions of other members, if i forgot some, lmk!
WORD COUNT. 4.1k
AUTHOR'S NOTE. this will be my first ever sunghoon fic after a long while! i did take a hugeee slump after writing ( and had never been so inspired to write oneshots until now. and i'm such a sucker for glasses hoon and this is the product of it. thank you so much for reading! <3
MY LIBRARY. REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
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It was an annoying morning.
Or well, for you, it was annoying. For you had to witness a group of interns gushing over the "guy with rolled sleeves and glasses making his coffee," and you scoffed when they mentioned that he looked like an Americano drinker, which, in their words, made him more attractive.
You rolled your eyes, the guy that they were talking about never liked Americano. In fact, his black instant coffee had the same amount, if not more, of cream added to his stainless steel coffee tumbler.
How did you know about that, though?
One thing about you was that you knew Park Sunghoon very well. He was the Class Salutatorian of Batch 2023, bachelor's in Information Technology. It was pretty impressive, if you were to ask everyone else. Park Sunghoon was immediately hired by the company that you are working in, and while you can say that Sunghoon did deserve both the position and the benefits, you couldn't help but feel like he didn't deserve the attention men and women alike were pouring him.
Of course, if anything, it should be you showering him attention. But, you wouldn't do that. Not when you're Y/N Y/L/N. You're the darling of the company, the sweetheart, so to speak. Because even though you cannot be of the same level as that of talent, knowledge, and skill which Sunghoon possess along with his looks, you were a pretty hardworking person.
Being in the Marketing Department also had its hardships, and while you still pray for the day commoners stop shunning down your bachelors, you are able to supply yourself with your needs and wants just by exerting everything you've learned in business and people-speaking.
But there was something about Park Sunghoon that makes him your own thesis.
Your own skill in building relationships didn't seem to work on him as much as you had hoped. Okay, let's admit it, you had taken a liking into Park Sunghoon. The quiet IT Specialist that exuded looks that were enough to make women fall to their knees.
A little bit of chit-chat here and there, some subtle glances and light touches, you were still far from the starting line. Park Sunghoon still hadn't reciprocated at least a fraction of your advancement towards him.
And by now, you're almost as helpless as it could be as you're munching on your own lunch, eyes over the cubicle of the IT department, watching how Sunghoon eats his sandwich, gaze never leaving his computer as he typed in codes with his other hand.
"How's the thing with Mr. Cold guy doing?" Sunoo would nudge your side as he caught you staring at Sunghoon for the nth time today.
You rolled your eyes for the nth time today as well, "He's so annoying."
"Now, he's annoying? Please, Y/N, cut yourself some slack. You need to get humbled, too, you know?" The blonde boy laughed as he sipped on his coffee.
"I just don't know how he hasn't caught up on it yet," you groaned, stabbing your fork on the penne pasta that you had on your lunchbox, "I've been doing a lot! How come he's still oblivious!"
"That, or he knows and just doesn't want to do anything."
You furrowed your eyebrows at Sunoo, "What do you mean?"
"Please, you're practically throwing yourself at him, it's a miracle how he hasn't caught up on yet."
"Or, he's a virgin."
Sunoo laughed, "Maybe,"
A loud thud on your desk was heard throughout the department as you placed your lunchbox down, "I'll talk to him."
"Again?" Sunoo looked at you, bewildered. "And, while he's working?"
"What, can't he handle a little distraction?"
"With you almost pushing your boobs towards his face? I think not."
"You know what? Fuck you." You flipped your best friend off, making him laugh as he ate his tteokbokki happily, ready to see you in your downfall yet again.
You, on the other hand, were determined. Straightening your slacks and blouse, grabbing your laptop, you made your way over to the IT Department, greeting everyone along the way while making a beeline straight to Sunghoon.
"Hi," you greeted.
Sunghoon hummed, his eyes still not leaving his screen.
"I mean to come to you to help me with a feature on the application that we're using?"
The boy glanced at you, his chewing coming to a slow halt.
"What about it?"
"Oh, I was hoping that I can access the Network's files? I've forgotten my flash drive at home and I only have access to some of the files but it would be in Sunoo's disk."
Sunghoon flashed you an impressed look at your terms, at the bare minimum.
"It'd be against company policy to allow you to access other people's disks without their consent, Ms," Sunghoon cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, "and besides, aren't you friends with Mr Kim, anyway? Why wouldn't you ask him directly?"
"Uh, well..." you trailed off, "well, Sunoo also has the copy of this file on his flash drive, and coincidentally, he has also forgotten it at home!"
The boy raised an eyebrow at you. He was not buying it, you thought.
But your thoughts were proven wrong as Sunghoon swivelled in his chair, clicking on the multiple tabs open until he had manipulated the system for the time-being upon your request.
Your hands glanced on his hands, so dainty, long, and pretty. You wondered how it would feel around your neck, or in your pussy.
"It'll be open only for your access, Ms," Sunghoon said, looking up at you, "I'll be resetting it to company's default after forty-five minutes. Would that be enough time for you to get your files?"
You nodded, "Yes, thank you,"
"Do you have anything else for me to help with?" Sunghoon looked at you with a raised brow, making you blush.
"N-No, not that I know of, thank you, Sunghoon," you smiled at him.
He merely nodded before opening his coding software, clearly blocking you out from all his senses as he returned to eating his sandwich and work.
You pursed your lips, inhaling a large breath as you excused yourself from his cubicle, greeting yet another group of people acknowledging your presence as you made your way out of their department.
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You were not expecting what you are seeing.
Not at all.
Whatever it was, there seems to be a glitch in the system as you also had an access to Sunghoon's drive.
You see, it was not your fault you were a bit nosy over your crush. You had taken a liking in him, and maybe, you think, there may be some stuff about him in his drive that could let you know a little more about him.
If not him, then, maybe, technology, his trusted friend, could help you.
You've seen his curriculum vitae, all the data he's working with, his clients, as well as a folder of his personal stuff which included torrented movies.
You laughed, his degree really has his perks.
You were so close to clicking off the movie folder named "O", but as you clicked on the next folder, named "P," you gasped at the number of porn videos were downloaded into the folder.
And all of them had the same theme: office sex.
It maybe too much, but in your mind, it made sense, when you were noticing how each of the female partners had the same features as you. Smirking to yourself, you glanced a look at the IT Specialist, bingo.
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Surprised would be an understatement when Sunghoon entered the pantry as he went through his usual routine: leave his things at his desk, make his creamy coffee, work, leave to buy Subway for lunch, work, leave at 5:30 PM sharp.
He was surprised when the first people in the pantry left as he entered the room, furrowing his eyebrows when he heard faint words such as, "porn," "boundaries," and "couldn't he have had downloaded it in his own laptop?"
Now, Sunghoon may have been overthinking. His quiet life at work was already enough for him. But there was something bugging him for the first time in his life as he placed water in his stainless cup, especially when after making his coffee, no one would even dare look at him as he made his way to his cubicle, men and women, alike, swivelling their chairs to move farther from him, as if he were a plague.
Sunghoon rolled his eyes, it was getting to his nerves.
And if it weren't for Jake, his only friend in the department, who initially swivelled his chair away form Sunghoon, but then decided to swivel back as Sunghoon didn't even stand up for lunch, who told him about the rumours that spread about him, he wouldn't have known, and there was only one person who would have accessed his files.
You.
He snickered at the story Jake was telling him, and left Jake to his imagination whether the story was true or not, only giving him a shrug when the older did try to confirm to him.
"Believe what you want," Sunghoon responded, typing aggressively on his keyboard, "besides, I think you have, since you initially scooted away from me."
"Look, man," Jake scooted closer, whispering, "if it's not true, I could tell it to them, you know? I don't want them to think of you as some horny teenager who doesn't know about work boundaries."
"As if they're going to believe you," Sunghoon curtly responded before pressing a key harshly before looking at his friend, "if it came from Y/N, no one would even bat an eye at you."
"Y/N? Why her?"
"Only she had access to my files yesterday. Wouldn't it be too much of a coincidence if the story only spread now?" He chuckled, amused.
"So, it's true?"
Sunghoon shrugged again.
"Are you going to do something to address it?"
"Address it? What for? They already think I'm some horny dude, anyway."
"Well," Jake licked his lips, "just send me the stashes next time, too, okay?"
Sunghoon laughed.
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Your plan was working.
A lot of people had taken their distances from Park Sunghoon. Making you think you're progressing at your plan to keep people away from him.
You can't help it. As long as there were hindrances in your way towards Sunghoon, you think there would be little chances to make your advances to him. You had yet to tell Sunoo, but you know that he was already aware of the rumour, and he would ask you about it after his client events.
So, while everyone had left Sunghoon alone in the pantry, that was your cue to enter the pantry. Making your way as calmly as possible to the counter as possible, you placed your food on the microwave, heating your breakfast as Sunghoon was stirring his drink in his cup.
"I never took you as the guy," you sighed, faking sympathy, getting more annoyed as you never got any reaction from the boy.
"I was expecting more from you, Mr. Salutatorian, I'm sure you know about policy since you were so high and mighty about it when I tried to get into Sunoo's files," you continued, watching his every reaction.
But he remained stoic. And that irked you.
You were about to open your mouth when the microwave had beeped, making you jump and take your food, frustrated over the fact that Sunghoon was ignoring you. Forgetting that it was still hot and you didn't retrieve the mittens beside it, you burned your fingers, finally getting Sunghoon's attention.
He discarded his coffee and immediately went his way over to you, grabbing a hold of your hand before examining your fingers, his eyes never leaving it as he tried to suck on it in attempts of both soothing the wound and seducing you.
Your breath hitched, making you look at him. What the hell was he doing?
"S-Sunghoon?"
He smirked at you as he pushed your fingers to his mouth, wetting your pointer finger with his warm tongue, only for him to retract it and swirl it on the tip of it.
"There's one menace between the two of us," Sunghoon whispered as he pulled away, leaning in to you, "and it's not gonna be you."
You let out a breath you didn't know you held as he pulled away and made his way out of the pantry.
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Weeks later, you found yourself mad at Park Sunghoon.
Because after the incident at the pantry, he seemed to be hovering in your space more times than you would like. And while it did seem the best thing for you, it wasn't. For Sunghoon was not only hovering, but he made sure his presence was made known whenever he was around.
Holding on your waist, rubbing his crotch against your bum, rolling his sleeves whenever he knew you looked at him – while keeping his unbothered expression at his face.
Other than that, you were thinking he was losing his game as another person had suddenly took a liking into you. Food in carton boxes at your table by the morning you come in to work, and while you had hoped that it were him, your hopes were shut down as fifteen minutes after you had arrived from work, only had then Sunghoon, too.
Flowers were also hard to miss every week. There was a different flower every week, the whole department gushing whenever you grab a stem on your desk. And while you had hoped it was Sunghoon, again, you looked at his desk and see him in his natural habitat: working and face straight to the computer.
By this time, you had grown infuriated. Because you felt like he was toying with you. Especially when he was not paying you any attention at the Thanksgiving Party your office had held after reaching more than the targeted quarterly sales, and it was because of you! Why wasn't he giving you any attention?
Blame it on the alcohol in your system, and your innate drive to prove something to Sunghoon, a trait of yours that you have acquired overtime, you made your way towards the guy who was alone at the bar, nursing his on the rocks with his finger dancing around the rim of the glass.
"Aren't you going to congratulate me?" you spat, annoyed.
Sunghoon turned on his seat, smirking at you, "For being the best employee?"
"What else!"
He chuckled, taking a sip on his drink, "Congratulations, princess,"
You scoffed, "That's it?"
He grinned, "What, you'd want me to kneel for you?"
You were stunned. "You know what? Whatever, Sunghoon, I feel like I'm just a game to you, anyway."
And maybe that's what did it for Sunghoon, because the moment you uttered those words, you found yourself being pulled by your wrist outside of the ballroom you were in by none other than Park Sunghoon himself.
"Let go of me, Sunghoon!" you said as you tried to escape from his grasp.
But Sunghoon did not budge, he was determined on making you regret what you say. He pushed the fourteenth floor button, the floor where he was staying, and even though it took quite a while to get to the floor, Sunghoon didn't even try to lay his hands on you, it was better for him to do it on his bed, anyway.
Because you deserved it.
The moment the elevator doors opened, you found yourself being pulled to his room, with heavy breaths as he discarded his suit jacket on the couch, he turned around and met you in a passionate kiss, surprising both you and Sunghoon.
Ah, if there was one thing you didn't know about Sunghoon? Was the fact that he was a virgin. He never had any relationships in the past, and it had only been you whom he was very attracted by. So, it was bound to happen, perhaps. Sunghoon giving you his virginity in the hopes of you reciprocating his feelings.
But Sunghoon was a realistic man, of course, he knew that he was just your own entertainment. Having a lot of suitors here and there, he knew he had to step up his game.
That meant, letting you see through his drive because he was scared of doing the first move of asking you out on a proper date, because everyone was always first in doing so.
A few occurrences later, Sunghoon had decided on levelling his courtship up by bringing you food to your table the moment he gets to work. His bag still on his hand as he ordered your favourite meal as he sped placing it on your table before making his coffee.
Sunghoon had started realising that you liked flowers, so he had brought it upon himself to at least give you flowers every week, keeping it anonymous before he finally musters enough confidence to tell you that it was him who was giving you the gifts.
Not Jake, not Jay, and most certainly not Heeseung.
So, he hopes he had translated all of his misunderstood feelings into the kiss, cupping your jaw as he pushes his tongue in your mouth, swallowing the moan that you had blessed him.
"You drive me so fucking crazy, Y/N," he groans into the kiss, "accusing me of playing with you when you were the one who started this in the first place." He trails off, his lips pressing onto your mouth up and down before stopping by the skin near your collarbones for him to suck.
You let out a whimper, too lost in the feeling of his lips on your skin, "You drive me so fucking crazy, too," you start, letting your head fall back to have the boy kiss more of your skin, "I don't know what's on your mind most of the time." Sunghoon had found your sweet spot below your ear, making you gasp.
The boy hummed, wrapping his hands around your waist, pulling your body flush against his, slowly rolling his hips forward so you could feel his hard cock pressed against you, "Well, it's about time you know that you take over the expanse of my mind, princess."
You were already soaking wet at this point, basking in how Sunghoon looked today, you swear you could feel yourself salivating over how he presents himself. You pull his face away from your neck, locking your lips in an uncoordinated kiss. "I need you, Sunghoon."
Sunghoon groaned, kissing you for a moment longer before abiding to his girl's needs. His cock was aching, and you needed him. It was time to cut the chase.
"My needy little slut," Sunghoon growls as he teased you by rubbing your clit over your panties, and when he slid his hands through her folds, he was met by pleasing wetness, making him chuckle, "You've been trying to fool everyone with how much of a sweetheart you are, angel," he hummed, rubbing his nose on the crook of your neck, "but you really are a menace. Wanting her Sunghoon to give all of his attention to her,"
"Y-Yes," You moaned, grinding your hips on his fingers, "M-My Sunghoon,"
And when he motions to remove his glasses, you tap his wrist and shook your head, making him realise you never want his glasses off, making him chuckle.
"You liked hearing it, don't you?" Sunghoon inquires as he pushes you to the bed, pulling you over the edge of it as he bites on your panties, pulling it down to pool on your ankles, "You love the idea of me being yours, don't you, Y/N?" He smiles as he sinks his finger in you, curling as you clench around you.
"Yes, I do - shit, Sunghoon!" You managed to say, "I did everything because I only want you! Only you!"
Sunghoon docks his head in between your thighs to hide the blush creeping to his cheeks before pressing hot kisses into the expanse of your inner thighs, fluttering light kisses as his lips made its way to your folds, kissing it before he gives kitten licks to your bud.
Your back arches, satisfying Sunghoon with his little experimentation. He, then, soon, pushes another finger in as he started swirling his tongue on your clit, alternating between licking his tongue flat from your hole up to your clit, making you thrash your legs everywhere.
He moaned when you clamped your legs around his face, urging him to continue his movements, "M' close, Hoon," you whispered, one of your hands leaving the sheets to tangle in his newly-cut hair, and with one more curl of Sunghoon's fingers, you were already tumbling over the edge, your cries of his name falling from your mouth.
"God, you're so beautiful, Y/N," Sunghoon whispers as he cleans you off with his tongue, and when he was done, he pushes himself up as he unbuckles his belt and removes his trousers, discarding the article at some part of the room.
"I wanna ride you," You confess, making Sunghoon blush again, "oh, are you... is this your first time?" You asked, your eyes widening slightly as Sunghoon replied with a nod.
Your heart almost burst at his confession, making you sit up and pull him into a slow kiss, "I want to see how you'd look so damn sexy sitting on my cock, Y/N," Sunghoon breathes, "but I want- I need-"
"Take your time with me, Hoon."
A breath escapes you when Sunghoon finally gets you out of your dress, his hands immediately pinching at your nipple. And without another word, Sunghoon lifts your leg and lines himself to your entrance. And with a heavy breath in, he pushes in slowly, the roll of his hips feeling delicious until he's fully buried inside you, low moans heard throughout the room.
"I, fuck, Y/N," Sunghoon starts, groaning instead as you clench around him. Sunghoon hovers over you, his arms on either side of your head before resting his forehead against yours so he could look into your eyes, "God, I love you so much, Y/N."
Before Sunghoon ever regrets he had confessed out of nowhere, you had already pushed your lips on his hungrily, meeting his thrusts, you let out a whine as Sunghoon placed your legs over his shoulders, reaching deeper of you, the same time he rubs slow circles on your clit in time with his harsh thrusts.
"God, you feel so fucking amazing, Y/N," he breathes, earning a chuckle from you as you say, "You're fucking me so good, Hoon,"
Sunghoon smiles at your continuous use of his nickname, before his eyebrows furrow as he lets out a breathless moan as he hit your g-spot, making you squeal, "Jesus, I'm not gonna last much longer!" you say, and you were quick to wrap your legs around his waist, aiming to feel him closer.
"Me either, darling," he whispers, "come with me, please?"
And with a few more thrusts, you feel yourself coming on him, your toes curling, back arching, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head, as your nails rake down Sunghoon's back from his nape. Your walls clench around his cock, making him also reach his climax. He cuts your moans as Sunghoon pulls you to him for a hungry kiss as he empties himself in you.
He slows his thrusts down as he helps you come down from your highs, his lips attached again to your jaw down to your neck, peppering light kisses. And sooner, Sunghoon pulls out and rolls onto his back, his arms around your waist to make you roll on top of him.
A silence was heard in the room as you mindlessly traced irregular shapes on the expanse of Sunghoon's pale skin. He feels like his heart is about to explode from mixed emotions, having the girl of his dreams on top of him, his virginity in your hands – but, at the end of the day, he's unsure about your feelings for him.
However, one thing's for sure: you were all Sunghoon had ever wanted and needed, no matter how much the world can prevent him from doing so.
"I mean every word I said," Sunghoon whispers, kissing your hair, a silent affirmation to the thousand words running in your head.
You giggled, "I feel like I'd look good bouncing on your cock, too, Sunghoon."
"N-Not that.." Sunghoon blushed, "I am really crazy for you, Y/N, but you know, we could just pretend it never happened and think this is a one time thing."
"That's so unfair of you," you say, looking up and leaning your chin on his chest, "because I'd rather have you bringing over lunch and flowers every time if that meant having you every day."
Sunghoon visibly relaxed, smiling at you warmly, "So, it's forever."
"It is."
© acciojaeyun, 2024.
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rafeandonlyrafe · 2 days
Text
sparkling juice
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words: 1.9k
warnings: 18+ only!!!, p in v sex, unprotected sex, virgin!reader, dubcon, drugging/tricking reader into drinking, established relationship, innocent/shy!reader (at least at first wink wink), kinda dark!rafe but really he just wants to bang reader reaaaaal bad
“this is so sweet, rafey.” you coo, your hand held firmly in his.
“anything for you baby.” rafe pulls you along the path, further out into the meadow until you get to a shaded area under a tall tree.
“here is perfect.” rafe says, setting the picnic basket down and draping the large blanket he brought with him.
“thank you.” you tell rafe, pulling him in for a sweet kiss before sitting down.
“i brought all your favorites.” rafe says, taking a spot next to you and opening up the picnic basket.
you let out a little squeak in excitement and seeing all your favorite foods before your brows scrunch together as you point at a bottle. “what's that?”
“that's um… sparkling juice. that's all, baby.” of course, rafe knows that's not all it is, but you don't need to know that yet.
rafe pulls out some food for you to snack on, not hungry himself, happy to watch you nibble on crackers and bite into juicy strawberries.
“wanna try some juice with me baby?”
“mhm, of course rafey.” you watch his large hands as he fills two plastic cups, handing one to you. “drink slow.”
you nod in response before taking a sip, pulling away and sputtering. “ew!”
“oh, baby.” rafe pouts. “do you not like it? im so sorry i thought you would.”
“let me… let me try to drink it again. i think im just not used to the carbonation.” you take another sip, able to control your reaction better. “it's not bad!” rafe can tell you're lying, but he lets out a fake sigh of relief and smiles at you.
“so glad, baby. we can keep drinking while we talk, yeah? tell me about your day.”
rafe knows the easiest way to get you distracted is to have you talk, and so as you describe your day, which leads into your plans for next week, which leads into how much you love rafe, you keep taking sips as rafe refills just your cup.
“i… my head feels kinda fuzzy.” you frown, setting the drink down, realizing your fingers are also slightly numb.
“uh oh.” rafe pouts, drawing his thumb over your cheek. “maybe it's the heat. why don't you lay down?”
“yeah.” you nod, laying back onto the blanket, surprised how plush it is from the soft long grass underneath it. “im-” you let out a sudden giggle. “im like really in love with you, rafey.”
“im really in love with you too, kiddo.” rafe adjusts himself to lay next to you, propped up on his side to keep an eye on your reaction as the alcohol you didn't know you were drinking slowly takes effect. “that's why i planned out this whole picnic for you. and brought you special juice.”
“was there-” you hiccup, words slurring slightly. “anything special in the special juice?”
“hm.” rafe sits up, picking up the now half empty bottle. his eyes widen in fake shock as he reads the label. “oh no baby! i must have grabbed the wrong bottle! i meant to get us sparkling juice but i got us sparkling wine!”
“im… im drunk?” you put together what rafes words mean, mind working slowly.
“im so sorry.” rafe moves to hover over you, cupping your cheek. “will you forgive me?”
“course.” you nod quickly. “was an accident.”
“you're so sweet baby.” rafe brings his lips down on top of yours, kissing you wildly, mouths and tongues a passionate mess.
“should we go get some water to help… get rid of this feeling?” you ask rafe as he shifts to kissing your jaw.
“that's so smart, baby, but i can't drive us home drunk, and you don't have your license.” 
you knew how to drive well enough, but in your 20 years of life, never felt the need to actually get your license. your parents drove you around as a kid until you started dating rafe a year ago, and then he drove you around everywhere.
“oh, right.” you nod, letting out a small gasp as rafes kisses move lower, exploring your neck. this is where you usually stop him, pull his head back up to kiss your lips and remind him you want to wait. not necessarily until marriage, but a bit longer, until the time is right.
“we should do something to pass the time, baby. until the alcohol is out of our system.”
“doesn't eating help?” you try to remember what you heard your friends talk about, since you're not a drinker yourself. “we could share the rest of the crackers.”
“i was thinking… we could finally make love.” rafe suggests, pulling back to look in your eyes, watching the way your brain is fighting against the alcohol in your system.
“well, you did take me on this nice picnic…”
“mhm.”
“and we have been dating for over a year now.”
“yes.”
“so… i suppose we could.” you shove down any doubting voices in your head, letting the looseness of your inhibitions guide your actions as you lean forward to kiss rafe again.
“thank you baby.” rafe repeats his words between kisses, his weight shifting to his elbow as his other hand holds your waist, before moving up until it's cupping your breast.
“oh!” you gasp, surprised by how good it feels. rafe smiles, tugging at your dress until the material is below your bra, pushing your breasts up.
“what if someone sees?!” you hiss out. it's not likely someone would come by, but rafe doesn't want to ruin his chance to finally have you.
“okay.” he pulls your dress back up, settling for touching you over the material as he distracts you with soft kisses once again. “ill just push your dress up. that way if anyone comes by you can easily cover yourself up.”
“mhm.” you nod, eyes sliding shut, head fuzzy from the alcohol and now from the pleasure building in your system.
rafe reaches down to pull his cock out of his pants, leaving himself mostly covered as well. he begins to slowly stroke himself, already halfway hard just from the excitement.
“oh!” rafe hadn't even realize your eyes had opened up until your outburst.
“it's okay, baby.” rafe says. he's well aware this is your first time seeing his cock as he waits for you to form a reaction.
“i… i want to feel.” you reach down, cautious hand, still numb at the fingertips as you stroke over rafes length, eyes widening when you realize how hard it truly feels..
“can you… can you not look?” you ask shyly, hand still slowly moving as you speak. “at me.”
“baby, you know i find you beautiful. all of you… but if that's what you want, okay.” 
“just… look away for a minute.” you wait for rafes gaze to turn to the meadow, watching the flowers sway in the breeze as he hears you shuffling around on the blanket to take your underwear off.
“okay.” you say.
rafe looks back to you, smile growing as he realizes you're laid back down once again, dress pushed up to your thighs, just enough to hide your privates.
“ill be nice and slow, okay? and you tell me if anything hurts.” rafe moves over you, waiting for you to nod before reaching down with one hand to grab his cock. he keeps your skirt as far down as he can while tucking his dick between your thighs. he moves until he bumps skin, letting out a breath when he realizes you are wet.
he rubs his cock through your folds, watching the way your face twists in pleasure, brows pulling together and mouth dropping open.
you let out a moan when rafe hits what he assumes is your clit. he focuses the head of his cock on it for a moment before sinking lower to your entrance.
rafe manages to keep his word, pushing in slowly. he may have been buttering you up for an entire year just to get in your pants, but now he wants more than just once, you're well and truly his, and he plans on exploring with you until you're transformed from innocent girlfriend into personal slut.
“oh! oh, rafe!” your hands move to grip his shoulders. “that… that feels really good!”
“doesn't hurt at all?” rafe can tell he's stretching you somewhat, but clearly by your rapid shaking of your head no, you're not feeling any pain.
“gonna f-make love to you now then.” he swings his hips back before pushing forward, and soon your moans are filling the meadow, being carried away by the wind as he thrusts into you.
“so, so good, rafey.” you cry out, back arching off the picnic blanket. rafe smiles. your first time, and you're already behaving like this. he's going to turn you into a whore sooner than he thought.
“fu-fudge!” you shout out, making rafe chuckle softly as you use your curse word substitute just like you prefer doing.
“you feel so good round me, baby.” rafe says, bending down to kiss your neck. “love the way you're squeezing me.”
“harder.” you whine out. rafes eyebrows raise, but he doesn't question your demand, pushing his hips faster, slamming into you more. your dress pushed up from all the motion to reveal rafes cock burying itself inside your pussy.
he lets out a moan as you grip onto the blanket, not caring about him being able to see you as you feel a high building inside of you.
“i think im close.” you say.
“cum for me baby. ill cum with you.” rafe says, bringing a hand down to your clit, your moans doubling as he rubs over it with his thumb.
your high hits you suddenly. it takes a perfect thrust from rafe a long with his thumb flicking over your clit and your wall breaks with a scream, hips rising off the checkered fabric as you cum, pussy clenching around rafe as he spills inside of you with a moan of his own.
you both collapse in a heap, faces flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly.
rafe pulls out of you carefully before flopping onto his back.
“that was really good, rafey.” you cuddle into his side, resting your head on his chest.
“thank you for trusting me enough to do that with me, baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“of course.” your eyes are on rafes cock, still halfway hard despite just cumming. you reach down, ghosting your fingers along his length before swirling your fingertip over the head then against his slit as rafes hips twitch from the overstimulation.
“do you think we can do that again? and then maybe when we get home? after you're good to drive, of course.” you look up at rafe with what he thought were big, innocent eyes, but he's quickly realizing you've got a different side just below the surface.
-- six months later --
“ugh, rafe!” you groan as he presses buttons on the controller, eyes firmly on the screen. 
“promise baby, will be done in five minutes.” he says, barely glancing to you.
you're tired of being ignored as you pull off the only clothing you are wearing, a big t-shirt of rafes to cover yourself. rafe glances over, realizing you're now completely nude as his fingers freeze.
“i want to fuck. if you're not gonna help me, im gonna go help myself.” you shrug.
rafe tosses the controller onto the floor, a proud smile on his face. you've become just who he's always wanted you to be. “of course im gonna help you baby, come get on this dick.”
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sourlove · 2 days
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Omg the jock is so cute I was wondering if maybe we could get a scenario thing we're maybe reader and jock are at a diner on a hot summer night just chilling idk how you want to interpret that but I love your writing so far ♥️
TW: YANDERE THEMES BUT NOT REALLY SHOWN. LUCAS IS A GOOD BOY
A/N: I immediately thought of like a small town in the 50s or 60s when I read this lol.
READ LUCAS' HEADCANONS HERE
Thanks for the ask!
The heatwave that settled over the town had everyone abandoning their houses in favor of hanging out at the lake or starting up their barbeques. You, on the other hand, were heading to a date with a certain someone that evening.
"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"
You had barely even stepped into the diner when you were swept into a bear hug. You didn't even have to guess who it was, by the way your feet completely stopped touching the ground.
"Hi Lucas," you said wearily. The star football player grinned at you, eyes bright from beneath shaggy, golden curls. You snorted and ruffled his hair. "You doofus, didn't I tell you to get a haircut after practice today?"
Lucas pouted. "I wanted to get here before you did. Look, I got us a booth! You said you like booths so I got us one!"
"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Lucas." You sighed as he dragged you to a seat at the back of the diner, where the crowd was thinner. Lucas squished himself next to you, instead of opposite, rendering the booth pointless. You didn't mind anyway, as you were used to Lucas doing this.
"What can I get you lovebirds today?" the waitress asked, giving the two of you a grin. You smiled back at her. She had always been kind to you and had on more than one occasion, smacked Lucas with a newspaper for trying to makeout with you in the diner. She playfully glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, hugging you closer.
"Hey, Donna. Can we just get two milkshakes and some fries?" You asked, ignoring the way Lucas buried his head in your neck.
"Sure thing, hon." Donna walked away to place your order and you patted your boyfriends head gently. Honestly, it was too hot for his shenanigans. You let him stay like that for a while, though. As much as you refused to say it out loud, sometimes you really enjoyed being smothered by Lucas. It was comforting, like a heavy weighted blanket draped on top of you.
Lucas sighed happily as you combed a hand through his curls. "I thought you said you like when my hair gets long? I was growing it out for you."
"I love your hair, short or long, baby," you said. "But not when it gets in your eyes. If you fumble on the field again, I think Coach is gonna get his scissors and hunt you down to cut it himself."
"You love me?" Unfortunately, everything else you just said was obsolete to this boy. "You mean that, don't you?"
"Of course she does," Donna chimed in, holding a tray of your food. "There has to be a reason she would put up with you slobbering all over her."
"Thanks, Donna. Um-there's only one milkshake?" you questioned.
"Yeah, and two straws." She winked at Lucas. "Enjoy!"
Lucas beamed and immediately stuck the straws into the frothy drink, looking at you with such hopeful eyes, you couldn't do anything but sigh and lean forward to drink. You had to admit, the cold drink was just what you needed to stave of some of the heat of the day. Your eyes fluttered close as you savored the sweet taste.
When you opened them, Lucas's big brown eyes stared back at you.
"What is it this time, Lucas?" you asked with a huff.
"You're just so pretty." He smiled sweetly, the big dope. "I like looking at you."
You and you smacked his arm, though it hurt you more than it probably hurt him. "You're such a sap."
"A sap for you, honeybun~"
"I said don't call me that in public!"
"But whyyyy?"
You stuffed fries into his mouth to shut him up, giggling at his puffed out cheeks. He begged you for more and you rolled your eyes but relented. Sometimes saying no to Lucas was like kicking a puppy, there was no logical reason to. You could practically see his tail wagging as he ate greasy diner fries form your hand, licking your fingers clean.
"Let's go home," he whispered softly when all the fries were gone. The look in his eyes was so intense you grew flustered. Lucas grinned and tossed a few bills on the table, pulling you out of the booth.
You called out a hasty goodbye to Donna and she smiled at the both of you from behind the counter. There was something odd about that boy and the way he looked at you. But then again, who was she too stand in the way of young love?
The night hadn't gotten much cooler, but there was a little breeze stirring up the heat. The smell of grilled meat and distant laughter told that people were still enjoying their evening. You would have to swing by to your neighbor's house later. He always saved leftovers from his barbeque for you and Lucas.
Lucas held your hand tightly as usual. He didn't seem to be in a rush like he was on other nights. "What's on your mind?" you asked, swinging your hands back and forth.
"You."
Shocker. You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "I can't always be on your mind, dummy." He glanced at you in confusion.
"Why not? You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"
You stopped walking and stared at him. He tilted his head, the action making his curls fall into his eyes again. "What's wrong, honeybun?"
The stupid nickname, the shaggy hair, the dumb, sweet smiles. Everything about Lucas that you once thought was annoying, now made you smile about your boyfriend. This was bad.
He yelped when you suddenly dragged him down by his collar to mash your mouths together but soon reciprocated the kiss happily. When you released him, his face was flushed with another stupid grin plastered over it.
"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining!"
"Nothing," you hummed, linking your fingers again. You would have to get the leftovers later, it seemed. You had plans for your boyfriend that night. "Nothing at all, baby~"
A/N: Everyone seems to love Lucas! And I don't blame you, he's the sweetest boy. Thanks for the support! If you enjoyed this, leave a like, comment and reblog. My asks are open though I might not reply to them immediately, I will try to reply to all.
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inkyray · 3 days
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Can you do a angsty Matt story? Maybe when hanging out with friends he made a rude comment and the reader got upset but he didn’t notice so when they go back to his house Chris/nick notice somethings wrong not Matt which makes the reader angry and they fight?
a/n: if you look at my doc where i wrote this at, this took up 15 pages of utter horror
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warning/content ahead: ANGST LETS GO, matt x anxious!asthmatic!reader, fighting, crying, arguing, anxiety attacks, asthma attacks, bsf!chris yesss go girl, like one oc i made up, lmk if i missed anything
-
TOUCHED
You trail closely behind your boyfriend, the mall large and filled with people, getting stopped every five minutes for a new fan to take a photo with him. You being the one forced to take them.
You hand a fan their phone back, watching as they skip somewhere off to the side. You sigh, and Matt goes in to reach for your hand, understanding your frustration, but you flinch away, making sure he doesn't grab a hold of it. "You okay?" He questioned.
You guys have barely made it past the entrance of the mall and this was the eighth fan to come up to him, it was a day made just for the two of you and now it's being slowly stripped away from you as you take pictures of him next to strangers. You didn't want to seem sensitive, but answered nonetheless, lying through your teeth. "Of course."
You dart your eyes around the place for a distraction, landing on a pretzel stand. "Oh! Wanna get a soft pretzel?" You get excited, gesturing to the stand. Matt follows your gaze and his face brightens. "Oh, god yes. I've been wanting one for weeks." He utters.
He grabs ahold of your hand and you take it back immediately, shoving it in your pockets and looking around to see if anyone saw that. No, thankfully, not. You hoped.
You watched his adam's apple bob as he dropped his gaze, you two walking over to the stand. "You looking to buy a pretzel?" A young woman in the stand asks, fixing her uniform hat. "Yes, please--" You start but quickly get interrupted.
"Wait, are you Matt Sturniolo?" She asks, her demeanor changing to reach for her phone. You swallow your throat dry as he answers. "Oh my god, can I get a picture?" She doesn't wait for an answer, getting around from the stand as she gets her phone ready. Matt shoots you an apologetic look as you ignore it, taking the phone that was handed to you and snapping a picture of them, your face expressionless.
"Thank you so much." You give her a small smile just to quickly realize she wasn't even looking at you, but at your boyfriend. "What did you guys want?"
You order, every sense of excitement completely flushed out of your body as you chew at your pretzel. You guys were now standing at some corner of the mall shadowed, somewhere Matt had insisted on standing to eat your pretzels in peace.
You chew on your soft pretzel, calculating the place around you before turning your attention to look up at him. He examines your face, one side of his cheek stuffed as he chews on it. He chuckles to himself, "You got a little somethin'' Matt's gaze was on your upper lip, lifting a thumb to brush off whatever was on there but you quickly moved your head back. You block his gesture with your own hand, removing any crumbs that were on you.
He finishes what was in his mouth. "Look," He starts but you dismiss it immediately, knowing what he's about to say. "Let's spend this day without any problems, okay?" You tell him softly before he could get a chance to explain himself. He sighs, looking like he's considering what you're saying.
"Okay." He agrees, "But, can I get a quick kiss?" He asks, a small frown on his face. You look around, seeing one too many people. "When we go home." You answer.
PDA in general isn't your cup of tea, but little stuff like holding hands and small physical touching you didn't mind. Matt was aware of that, you guys have been together for months. You'd think he'd got you all figured out. But as his career was skyrocketing, so was your problem with PDA.
It felt like everyone was watching, the anxiety of his fans probably seeing something and snapping a picture, posting it to the internet without either of your consent swelled your mind. His fans are what worried you, with how cruel they could be and the all seeing eyes of judgment. You loved Matt and wouldn't leave him for the world, he was your partner in crime. But making it public seemed like a death wish, millions of fans deranged enough to find a way to have you two broken up.
You weren't embarrassed of him, that was the farthest thing you felt. If anything, you felt like you were the one embarrassing him. You couldn't afford to paint such a picture for him and you didn't want any more fans to go any harsher on him. You were doing this because you cared for him, that's what he didn't seem to understand.
-
You stood in front of your mirror, having your hand slide down your curves, the dress hugging you exceptionally tight in all the right places. Your hair was in a messy updo, revealing your delicate shoulders and collarbones, messy strands untied to the updo, flying filmy around in soft motion. You were thrilled to see the look on your boyfriend's face when he sees you, knowing this a dress he would drool over, especially on you.
Picking up your phone, you notice your girl friends texting you, saying they were outside ready to pick you up. You, your boyfriend Matt, his brothers, and a bunch of friends are all going to some fancy restaurant in LA. Excited, you spray yourself in your signature scent and head out.
You got multiple compliments, which meant a lot coming from your close friends, but whether you wanted to admit or not, nothing mattered until you saw Matt.
You spare your friend, Em, a lip liner from your bag as you watch the restaurant appear into view. Em had made it her mission to somehow get Chris to fall in love with her by the end of the night, and you were curious to see how that would go. Peering out the window, you see Matt, his brothers, and their male friends conversing in front of the place, waiting on you guys. Almost everyone you were hanging out with tonight were influencers, not you though.
You feel your heart skip a beat when you see him, urging your friend to hurry up and park. He looked perfect. "Okay! Okay, give me a minute." She laughs, doing as you please. In seconds, you're out of the vehicle and greeting everyone, greeting the ones closest to you first. Nate, Chris, a friend, Nick, who doesn't hide his impressed look on his face. "Are you heaven sent? Holy fuck, you look amazing." He says and you fail to hide the erupting flattered chuckle, "Says you, wouldn't be surprised if you left tonight with multiple new numbers in your phone." You say, before turning to your boyfriend with a dimpled-smile.
You engulf him into a hug, one that has his scent swirling around you and comforting you instantly, one that takes him by surprise and stiffly hugs you back. "You look so handsome, pretty boy." You look up at him, pulling away from the hug. His expression was confused, the smile he had when talking to his friends disappearing when you pulled him into a kiss in front of everyone. Pulling back down, you stare up at him, waiting for him to say something.
"Thanks." He says, looking away from you and going to greet the other girls that tagged along. You were still smiling, but you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. That was it? He's usually more touchy than this. You watched him hug all the other girls, with hands around their waist a gleaming smile playing. You wondered if that's what he looked like hugging you too.
He pulls away and you stare at his hand, his finger ringed and the urge to hold it was strong. You reach a hand out to hold onto it, but he moves all too quickly in a motion of conversing with a friend before you can grasp onto it. Leaving you holding no ones hands but your own.
Turning your head away, you go and greet his other friends.
-
You sat at the long white-clothed table, picking lightly at the petaled roses displayed in front of you. Your boyfriend sat somewhere far down the table, across from Em. While you sat across from Chris, with Nick right beside you. Nick seemed to be caught up in a conversation with the girl on the other side of him. As for Matt, he was talking to both Nate and Em.
You can't help but look at him every second, he was so interested in whatever they were talking about he didn't even bother to make sure he sat next to you. He wasn't that far down the table, but far enough where you couldn't reach him. You could see and hear him, yet not touch him. For the first time in a while, you were upset about it.
You were forced to break your gaze from on him, turning to examine the beyond-fancy restaurant. Gold plated things everywhere, marble, high ceilings and long draped curtains. Maybe you were underdressed. Looking back down, you look at the rose petal you had accidentally broken off.
Everyone around you was engulfed in their own conversation while you just sat there, feeling the softness of the petal before slowly ripping it to shreds. Everything around you began hitting you in the wrong places, everything was too loud, the lights felt too hot on your skin, the place needed air conditioning, the waiter was taking too long. Your hands began to shake as the ripped petals fell from your grasp.
"Hey." You feel a quick kick to your shin and you look up. "Hey, Chris." You couldn't help but smile. Chris was definitely one of your best friends, all of the triplets were. But Chris knew how to take your mind off anything. His eyes darted from your shaking hands to your expression. "Why aren't you next to your boyfriend?" He asked with a small smile, one that made you feel like he was about to crack a joke.
"You mean Matt?" You dart your gaze over to him, he was fully laughing now. "Yeah. Unless you have a separate boyfriend here." Chris practically rolls his eyes as you feel the quiver of her hands quicken. You try to stop them  putting your hands on top of each other and applying pressure, hoping to stop it. "I think he just got caught up with his friends on a topic or something." You say in regards to Matt.
"Mm." Chris hums, nodding to what you're saying. He slowly leans against the table, getting closer to you. His voice drops a few tones as he asks you something. "What's wrong?" He gestures to your hands, voice whispery. You look back down to see your hands still shaking, you quickly hide them under the table and rest on your lap.
"My anxiety, Chris." You answer, looking at the open lights behind him before quickly looking away, feeling a headache form. "Everything here is so overwhelming." You answer honestly.
In Chris's mind, he puts two and two together. He knew you were telling the truth, but he also knew you wouldn't be this anxious unless you were seated next to his brother. He was aware that his brother had an effect on you that would immediately help with your anxiety, giving you some sort of comfort in uncomfortable scenarios. Chris cared about you like you were his sister, and he wished he had that sort of effect on you too, wanting nothing but to keep you happy.
He sighs, leaning back. "It is pretty overwhelming here, huh." He mutters, taking a sip from a water that was definitely Nick's, but he was too distracted to notice. You smile at the gesture, and he sips down the water and holds it up to you. "Want some?" He lifts his eyebrows, and you shake your head with a smile. "You sure, 'cause the ethereal hint of Sir Nicolas's saliva really just melts on your tongue."
You scrunch up your nose with a laugh as Nick's head snaps to Chris's direction. "What the fuck are you doing, Chris?" Nick's tone was warning. Chris pops a shoulder. "Oh, you know, drinking some delish water."
"Delish?" Nick repeats, "Did my water turn you gay?" That's what makes both you and Chris erupt into laughter, and you can't help but to even rub your eyes, careful not to mess up any of your eye makeup. Chris does the same, laughing more because you were rather than Nick's joke. Nick even chuckles a little, snatching his water back and keeping it beside him. "Dummy fuck."
It takes you a second to compose yourself, noticing just how loud you and Chris are being. With the failed attempt to keep yourself from laughing, you lean to Chris. "Sh–" You interrupt yourself with a laugh. "Shh, we're going to get kicked out." Your cheeks were hurting, the joke wasn't even that funny. Now you guys were just laughing because of the other one. 
Chris opens his eyes, squinting at you as he tries to lower his laugh a notch, holding a finger in front of his mouth as he attempts to shush you too, but only laughs more.
The two of you were unaware, but Matt had been staring at you since the moment Chris had kicked your shin. He watched as he leaned into and whispered something too inaudible, then kept his gaze on you guys until you were almost on the floor laughing. Jealousy burnt through his chest, and some form of hurt anger erupted, aiming directly at you. 
Everybody at the table now was looking at you guys, laughing a little along with you guys from the scene in front of them, not really sure what you guys were laughing at. You watch as a waiter begins to approach from behind Chris, and you immediately kick his leg, maybe a little harsher than intended. "Ow!" He jumps, and you point to the region behind him, he turns his head and sees the approaching waiter. He turns his head back immediately, his eyes wide as he tries to swallow down his laughs. Which seemed even funnier to you.
It was a struggle for you two to order, and Nick had to be the one to order for you guys. You felt immature and childish, but it somehow made you feel better about yourself knowing that Chris did as well.
Em starts talking from your row, across from Matt, as she aims her topic at Chris. "We're gonna have to wait even longer for our food now, am I right?" She says, making her voice slightly louder so Chris would be able to hear her, but his attention wasn't even on her, he was completely fixated on you, accidentally ignoring her completely.
"Ugh." He mutters, clenching onto his stomach. "My stomach hurts so fucking bad now." He almost moaned, and you grin. This is the most you've smiled all night. Now that he's mentioned it, you feel a cramp begin to form in your stomach too. "Oh, shit. Me too." You lay your palm on the thin material of your dress. "Fuck you, making me laugh so hard." You say, feeling your stomach begin to worsen.
"Me?" He scoffs, "Nick is the one that made the joke, loser." He defends, both of you guys matching with a hand on your stomachs. "Yeah, but your laugh is stupid." You tell him, he has an offended look on his face. "Your laugh is also stupid."
You shrug. "Your laugh is stupider."
-
In all honesty, Chris is what got you through the entire night. When the conversation would die down and you would shift your attention back to Matt, Chris managed a way to keep you from feeling gloomy again. Your boyfriend hadn't spoken a word to you since the moment you guys had stepped into that restaurant.
Now, everyone was getting up from their seats on the table and they left tips under their empty plates. Soon, everyone would need to leave.
You follow them out of the building, noticing how later it was at night and how you should've brought a jacket for the chilly night. You look for Matt, hoping he would provide you with some sort of warmth with his body heat. As everyone approaches their cars, they all linger there, deciding to hang out in the parking lot a little longer.
Chris was now talking to Nate and his other friend, not paying any mind to Em that was trailing behind him. You notice Matt telling Nick and his friends a few things, and you immediately get the idea to stand next to him. Hopefully the quiet game was over now, and he would finally talk to you now that you were closer. Standing next to Matt, who's in a conversation of his own, you gently lean yourself on him, letting your bare arm brush against his clothed body, providing you with the smallest bits of warmth. Usually, he'd cover your shoulders with an arm draped over it, but here, he doesn't do anything.
You lay your head on his shoulder as he continues talking, not even batting an eye toward you as you let out a small breath, watching as the air coming out of your mouth turns into cold fog. It was freezing out, and a gust of wind flew your way, giving you a series of shivers down your back. Subconsciously, you lean close to him.
"Can you stop?" He huffs, stepping away from you as you almost trip, just now noticing how dependent you were being on him. Nick furrows his eyebrows. The trip had sent your ankle to bend, small rocks digging their way into your skin. "Sorry." You swallow, fixing your shoe, your foot stinging.
The groups navigated to this one, and everyone was around each other, getting ready to head home but wanted to spare the time a little longer. You spoke to Em, who admitted she gave up on Chris. "He was hopeless." She sighed.
You spoke to the girls who drove you here. You loved them dearly, they were the kindest and the closest girls to you. Now, your attention shifted to Matt, who was listening to Nate speak to everyone. "Bro, I'm just glad the plans made it out of the group chat and everyone managed to come tonight. You know how long we've wanted to do this?" Nate mumbled the usual way he does.
"For real, plus, everyone looks fucking fantastic." Nick says, turning his head to you. "I'm looking at you, cutie." He points at you, winking. Everyone begins agreeing, and you start to believe it. Maybe you did look good tonight.
You turn your head to look at Matt, cranking your neck a little to look up at him. He looks past you, down at the pavement. "Whatever you say." He mutters under his breath, his face blank and you feel your heart begin to shatter like glass. No one seemed to have heard him, and you begin to wonder if it was just your imagination.
"What?" You question, looking at him. Your eyes start to get glassy, and the moonlight hits your face just right, making Chris notice what was going on. Matt ignores you, clasping his hand together. "All right, I guess it's time to go home."
"You're coming with us, right?" Nick asks you as everybody begins getting in their cars. "That was the plan." Chris says, looking at you for confirmation as you tried to bite down every part of your body that felt like it was being stung with needles. Swallowing your mouth dry, you answer. "I think I'll go home tonight."
Nick and Chris's faces visibly go confused. "Home with us, right?" You shake your head, your neck stuck in a stiff and still to keep yourself from accidentally looking at Matt. It felt like if you even tried to look at him, you would burst out crying. "Home to my apartment."
"Aw man, please?" Nick frowns, and you shake your head, hearing their car start. You hear Matt call your name out and you physically feel your heart clench. "Just fucking come." He groaned, entering the car and slamming the door harshly, enough to leave you flinch. Your eyes got subconsciously wide, trying to expand your sight as if it'll keep the tears from rushing out completely. Chris and Nick look at Matt then you, then at each other, utterly bewildered. "I'll come." Your voice barely came out, completely dumbfounded by his aggressiveness.
"Let's go." Chris puts a gentle hand on your arm, leading you to the back of the car as Nick rushed to the passenger seat. "Matt, what the fuck is your problem?" Nick was a tone away from considering yelling, no doubt angry with the way he was treating you. Matt just sighs.
Chris watches you with sorrow as you take your time entering the car, noticing just how bad you sprained your ankle, needing to hold onto his hand to enter the vehicle. The second you scoot to the middle of the back of the car, Chris immediately shoves himself inside, shutting the door as he glares at Matt through the rear mirror. "Took you two long enough." Matt growled, his voice was quiet but he spoke volumes.
"Matt, seriously, what stick is up your fucking ass?" Nick spoke with his hands, his palms spread open but his fingers clasped together as he was vigorously waiting for a response. God knew you were waiting for one too, desperate for one. It felt like piles of bricks were being laid on your chest, one by one.
"Nick, shut the fuck up." He had begun driving by now, all you could do was lay your head against the window and wait for this ride to end. "Watch your goddamn mouth, Matt." Chris didn't have his seatbelt on, sitting on the edge of the backseat as his voice was laced with impatient annoyance.
You closed your eyes, holding your own hands, lacing your fingers together as they began to shake just as they were in the restaurant when you first got there. "What are you going to fucking do, Chris? Kiss my girlfriend?" Matt argued, his voice getting louder. Your eyes fly open at the phrase.
"Matt, what?" Chris uttered, nothing but confusion written on his face.
"This is so fucking stupid." Nick declared. "Let's make it home and give her a peace of calm fucking mind. I just want her to have a good night's sleep, honestly." He sighed, referring to you. He cared about you deeply.
The ride home was uncomfortable to the brim. It felt like someone had poured thick fog into the car and made it difficult for you to breathe at a normal pace, your breaths either lasting too long or too short. The invisible fog picking at your nose and eyes, a push away from letting a tear slip. At least, for you.
Now, you are back home in your boyfriend's house. Nick leaves for his room to quickly change, as Chris lingered to do something on his phone. Usually, you'd head straight for Matt's room, given it was the one that had everything that belonged to you in, the one you'd sleep at every night.
You stood around, unsure of the next move you should make. Matt took a rootbeer out of the fridge and popped it open, looking at you as you glance at your splintered feet. "You just gonna stand there or what?" He says after a sip, another brick adding to your chest.
You approach the kitchen, passing Chris on the couch who had his gaze fixated on you, mentally begging for you to stand up for yourself. You bring up the courage to look him dead in the eye, the same ones that you had declared the most perfect eyes in the world just earlier today. "Matt, what did I do?" You finally ask, straightforwardly asking the question.
He furrowed his eyebrows in mock confusion. "What did you do? 'Cause frankly, I'd love to know." Sarcasm laced his tongue and you felt your hurt turn into anger. "Stop talking out of your ass and answer me." You say, getting closer to him that the only thing separating you two was the wide table in the middle of the kitchen.
"There's always fucking something with you, isn't there?"
"Always something with me!? You're the one who won't tell me what's wrong." You make your voice louder to match his.
"You always have some sort of problem with something, don't you!?" He was determined to out-yell you, as if his words would hit harder if he made it's volume that way.
Your body was boiling, confusion, impatience, and pure irritation an ugly mix in your stomach. He won't give you an answer, and you are fed up. You cannot let him treat you like this any longer.
"What the fuck are you talking about!?" You begin to use your hands.
"You fucking know what I'm talking about!"
With that being said, you two were now yelling over each other. The argument quickly turns into a fight, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you move them around. His voice booms throughout the house and it's enough for Nick to quickly notice what was going on from upstairs. You shouted back, begging for a simple response as he accused you of acting dumb on purpose.
The shouting was layering on top of what you two were saying, screaming and yelling what immediately comes to mind, paying no attention to what the other person is saying for the interruption until a phrase slips out that triggers the other person into saying something else.
Chris screwed his eyes shut tightly, a depressing wave floating in his chest as he felt the hurt wafting from both of you. The two people he cared about the most, fighting as he heard it all. He shuts his phone as he raises both his hands to rub on his eyes until he sees static. The unbearing sound of the two of you only getting louder.
The second Nick was done changing he was flying down the stairs, determined to break up whatever was happening.
"Matt!" Nick tried yelling over you two, but quickly noticed he'll have to do more than that, you two louder together than Nick was on his own. He attempts to call your name as well, but neither of you are aware of his presence.
You couldn't help it, hot tears were streaming down your face now as you pleaded for him to compromise. Your emotions shift between hurt, anger, and everything that comes with it. Matt definitely noticed, his gaze lingering on your glistening cheek as he only argued back faster.
Nick shoots a quick and worried look at Chris, who just so happened to open his eyes right when he did, concerned this would become something physical. Chris gets up from his spot on the couch, approaching Nick with a look that says 'how-the-hell-do-we-stop-this'.
The sight in front of them begins to get messier and their heart skips a beat when Matt doesn't stop his yelling, leaning over the table to point a finger at your face.
"You know what you're fucking—"
"Get your finger out of my fucking face." You spit.
" 'because it always has to be your way—"
"Matt, I said get your finger, Out. Of. My. Face!"
"Oh but as long as I'm doing what you–"
You and Matt were now inches away from each other, leaning across the table but your faces uncomfortably close. A vein was practically popping out of his forehead and no doubt so was yours. Nick silently thanked God for the table that was between you two.
You begin choking up your words and losing your breath, every word attempting to form was now a struggle, a new and harsh cough interrupting it. Chris's eyes widen and Matt abruptly stops. A silent second passes as all three of them stare at you, hoping for a false alarm, but your coughs get worse as you attempt to get some air in your lungs, failing to do so.
"Her inhaler." Matt yells, panicking immediately. Chris begins shuffling under his feet as Nick has no idea what he's supposed to do. Matt slaps Chris's shoulder, "Get her fucking inhaler, now." Matt orders Chris, the two of them sprinting to Matt's room to get it.
They come back in actual seconds, Matt's room turned to junk after throwing everything out of his drawers to find it. You never thought you'd have to use your inhaler, only ever using it once a year, more or less. Your asthma was mild, but this argument definitely triggered it. It was brought to your mouth in seconds, and you needed a full moment to get your chest working properly again.
Matt's expression was now plastered with worry and fear, every sort of angry bone in his body disappearing. Now, all that mattered to him was that you were okay. And honestly, once you could see straight, you had begun crying again.
"I'm sorry." Matt brushes the hair out of your face, strands sticking to your forehead from sweat, watching you uncontrollably bawl. "I'm so sorry."
Your tears were the hottest you've ever felt on your skin, and your eyes were glowing red from how much this all hurts. "Matt, I just can't do this. Either– Either tell me or fucking don't."
Nick helps you sit up and Matt swallows, deciding that he should just come clean with his behavior. But first, he needed his brothers out of here. He gave Chris a simple look and he nodded. "Nick, let's go."
And they were gone.
You had your eyes closed, all the energy in your body gone completely in one go as you waited for him to speak, a tear following another as it began to calm down. A few seconds pass as Matt tries to recoil his thoughts before finally talking.
"You hate touching me when we're anywhere that isn't a private setting." He starts, sighing through the sentence. "You'd flinch when my hand would even touch yours in the slightest. After a while, I began understanding that maybe that's just who you were. You know, not the biggest fan of public display affection, or whatever."
He swallows. "So, I got used to it. You hated it and I began working around it. Until tonight. You hugged me and kissed me in front of everyone, trying to do the things I would pray to try and do to you on the daily. I got confused." He swallowed. "You were embarrassed of me, and that's the conclusion I came up with. Deciding to touch me when the setting involved my friends." You furrow your eyebrows.
"As if.." He sighs and looks down, his chest breathing heavily as he stays like that for a moment. You opened your eyes and noticed he was about to cry. "Matt." You try to say, but your voice is hoarse and chalky.
"As if you wanted to give them this image that everything was all good. You're embarrassed of me on every single occasion except for this one, and it just fucked with my head."
You sat up fully this time. "Matt, are you nuts? Seriously?" You scoff, finally understanding everything. "I do what I do because I'm embarrassed of myself." You laugh at the irony. "If you pay attention, everytime I act this way is when we are in reach of any potential fan of yours." You say slow enough for him to process. "This restaurant was too fancy to have a deranged fan there. I was comfortable to be myself with you there because I knew that no stranger could misread the situation."
You fix a strand of hair quickly behind your ear before continuing. "I kissed you because I knew those people, and I knew that they wouldn't take a photo of it and post it on the internet without my permission, letting the internet speak absolute crap about me and judge me solely because I'm your girlfriend."
The scene was quiet as Matt registered your words, and you made sure the second was longer, replaying what he said back in your mind, as well as the entire fight that had just occurred. It all felt so pathetic to think about now, and the reason for it all finally dawned upon you two.
"All I wanted was to finally hug–and touch–my boyfriend tonight. But all I got was an anxiety attack, an ankle sprain, and a fucking asthma attack." You finish off with a stupid laugh.
He's silent for a moment before laughing, "I should've known. Seriously. God." He rubs his eyes and you see snippets of tears slip past his fingers. You get up and hug him, and he engulfs you in the embrace before you could fully even reach him.
"I'm sorry for making you feel that way." The side of your head laid on his chest as you hugged him tightly, and he gradually took it tighter.
"No way you just apologized before me. I was supposed to do that." He sniffed, trying to lighten the mood.
"Sorry about that too."
He mutters your name and you look up, your chin on his chest. "I'm sorry for treating you that way. I feel like the worst human being on earth, and that's a fucking understatement." It was cute. Both of you guys are crying for the dumbest miscommunication ever. "I know." You say.
"Like, I somehow managed to fuck up so bad Chris had to be the one to comfort you tonight." He shook his head.
"Yeah. That was a crazy low you did for it to reach that point."
He shushes you. "I don't need reminders."
"You brought it up." You shrug. He nods, "Yeah. I guess so." He finally cracks a smile, and you follow the curves of his lips, unknowingly grinning with him.
"I really fucking missed you today." He admits, kissing your nose, your eyes fluttering shut before opening them back up immediately. "You have no idea, Matt. Promise to forget today?"
"Promise."
"Now let's go to your room, you need to get these splinters out of my feet."
"You got it, love."
432 notes · View notes
autumnywinter · 2 days
Note
Hiii! <3 Could you perhaps write something with Reader cheating on yandere Jingyuan?
I hope this isn't ooc! I love writing for HSR characters but I don't do it often.
Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader
Tags: NSFW MDNI, cheating, spanking, patronizing behavior, light degradation, sex as punishment, gender neutral reader, implied kidnapping
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You couldn't deny you felt shame. Jing Yuan was so sweet, so doting, but he could get so busy sometimes. You loved him, you truly did, but occasionally, it was too tempting to not hook up with someone else. Just a fling, that's all you wanted. Only enough attention to make up for the lack of his while he was on duty. You didn't expect anyone to get murdered over it.
Things were supposed to go out smoothly. Your husband would be gone for the weekend, so you'd have a one-night stand and sneak back home at midnight. You didn't bother hiding the hickeys since you didn't think he'd be home.
However...
"Welcome home, dear. Did you have fun?"
He was there when you walked in. He was lounging on the sofa, eyeing you as you came in, his figure relaxed with one leg crossed over the other. There was no anger on his face. On the contrary, he smiled and looked more content than he had been in a while. But you could see it.
The glimmer in his eyes, the dangerous red that clouded his pupils. He wasn't angry. He was furious.
You flinched, wanting to shrink away into your coat. How were you supposed to explain this? "I..." Your voice came out in a rasp, throat dry and tight. You swallowed down your fear and tried again. "Yes... I did."
Part of you was still foolishly hoping he didn't know about your disloyalty, that you were overthinking his mannerisms.
Perhaps he just happened to be home early because he wanted to see you, and not because he rightfully suspected anything. Maybe you could still cover this up.
He rose from his seat and came towards you. "Did you now?" His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest. Your hands shook as they hung by your sides. "Would you like to know what I did, honey?"
It wasn't a question. He didn't care if you did or didn't want to know. He was going to tell you anyway.
His face pressed into your neck, inhaling your scent, humming against your skin. "I followed you." His lips peppered your neck with kisses as his grip tightened. "I have lots of friends in the knights that patrol the area frequently. Imagine my heartbreak when I hear my darling spouse has been sneaking around. I didn't want to believe it, so I had to see for myself."
You trembled in his hold, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Jing Yuan's tone was frighteningly even, but that only scared you more. You could feel him smiling against your skin. Forced and cold.
"When I saw you enter that man's house, I thought to myself: No, there must be an explanation for this. There's no way you would do such a thing." The more he talked, the more painful his grasp got. His nails dug into your side, threatening to puncture your skin. "So I waited outside for a while and sure enough, you came out a mess." His gaze became more narrowed, trailing down to the angry hickeys covering your skin.
"You stunk of alcohol and sweat, with all these nasty marks all over you. Even on your collarbone. Absolutely shameful."
You winced. "I'm sorry-"
"Shh." Jing Yuan's lips covered your own in a deep kiss that tasted of wine. "You were lonely without me, right? You wanted attention. I understand. There's no need to apologize. I know I haven't been paying much attention to you, so it's natural for you to look elsewhere."
Despite his understanding words, you felt trapped. Jing Yuan kissed you again and again, tongue swiping against your lips. You didn't have a choice but to open your mouth and let him in, letting his tongue explore every inch of your mouth.
He usually took his sweet time tasting you, but this time, he was impatient and sloppy. You could only grip his arms, whimpering as he poured all of his pent-up anger into the kiss.
When he pulled away, your knees threatened to give out on you. His mouth remained close, the warmth of his breath grazing your lips.
"You'll just have to make it up to me." His hand slithered under your coat and slid it off, his fingers stroking the marks on your shoulders. "These look painful. I never knew you liked pain. But I guess I never knew you were a whore, either."
His words pierced you like daggers, tears spilling from your eyes as you choked back a sob. Jing Yuan's cold eyes softened at the sight, cooing at you.
"Don't cry, sweetheart. It hurts me too when you cheat." His fingers stroked your cheek, catching some of your tears and licking them off his fingers. "I'll take care of you now, okay? Let me be your husband again." He guided you into the bedroom, pushing you onto the bed. "I'm going to fuck all of him out of you, so when I'm done, you'll only remember me. And all the other men you've seen."
Before you could protest, he flipped you onto your stomach and pulled down your pants. You squealed as his hand came down on your ass, leaving a red mark that would surely bruise later.
His palm was ice cold on your hot skin, soothing the sting from the impact.
"I want to forgive you, but I'm not going to lie to myself. You hurt me. I'd never hurt you like that." He paused, feeling between your legs. "And now you're getting aroused by this? Maybe I really have been neglecting you." He stood up to unbuckle his belt. "Let me remind you what sex feels like with someone who loves you."
You glanced back at him over your shoulder, watching him stroke himself. He looked down at you, an unsettling smile on his face.
"You know I love you, right?"
Jing Yuan climbed onto the bed, fingers tracing up your leg before pressing into your entrance. You whimpered as he eased them inside, not used to being stretched so suddenly. But he didn't care.
He thrust his fingers in and out of you, moving his fingers in scissoring motions to spread you more. You couldn't stop squirming beneath him, struggling to adjust to his pace.
"Answer me," he demanded. His fingers curled inside you.
"I do! I-I do!"
He hummed and removed his fingers, staring down at his hand covered in your wetness. He admired the way his wedding ring glistened in the low lighting, but not for long.
His gaze lowered to your reddened, flustered face, making his cock twitch.
"Good. Because I really do love you." He lifted your hips up, guiding the tip of his cock to your hole. He pushed into you and watched as you squeezed your eyes shut, desperate moans falling from your lips. Your walls wrapped around him, and he wanted nothing more than to absolutely wreck you.
So he did.
His hips snapped against yours at a rough pace, hands gripping your waist tight enough to leave finger-shaped bruises. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. But the way you cried his name was the best song to his ears.
If he weren't mad with jealousy and frustration, he would've taken a few seconds to grab his phone to record. But he needed to chase the image of that man out of your mind first.
He reached around you and started rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, grunting against your skin. His touch sent you spiraling into an orgasm, juices gushing all over his cock.
Your tightening walls drove him towards his climax as well, and he came inside of you with a satisfied groan.
Your eyes were blown wide as you felt his cum fill you up. Jing Yuan panted above you, not having the energy to pull out yet. After a few seconds, he did, watching his seed spill out of you. His hips gave a few lazy thrusts into you as if trying to push it in deeper.
"You took me so well, sweetheart." He laid down next to you, bringing your shaking body close.
"Are you still mad at me?" You breathed in his scent.
He chuckled. "I'm no longer mad. In fact, I'm happy. You just confirmed my suspicions that you can't be trusted on your own."
You didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean?"
He brought a hand to your neck, stroking the skin there. "You have a wild spirit. So it's only natural that I'd need to watch over you closely, right? So you don't wander off again. How can you cheat on me if I'm the only person you see?" He ignored your frightened expression and snuggled you close to him. "This is for the best. Everything I do is for you, Y/n."
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melandrops · 3 days
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Sam broke up with Alice.
He broke up with Alice because she didn't know how to take some things seriously. She didn't know when to turn off the jokes. She made one too many jokes about something that wasn't funny and Sam got sick of it.
Do you ever wonder if Alice sat alone in her flat, wishing she was a different person so that she could be what Sam wanted?
And now he needs a job and she wants him back in her life. As a coworker, as a friend, anything. She'll take anything. She misses him.
She's learned her lesson this time. And now every time Sam tells Alice to "turn it off" she does so without any hesitation. She shuts right the hell up. She doesn't do that with any other person in the office. But for Sam, she'll try and be what he wants her to be.
And he goes and gets a crush on his coworker. Not Alice, though. Never Alice. No, he gets a crush on the beautiful, emotionally available girl that he has no past with and all the promises of a future. And she has to watch him bounce around her in a twitter pated mess, trying and failing to flirt and she remember what it was like when he was flirting with her. She remember that sweet, earnest care he gave her and how he too once offered her his good teas.
Maybe it wasn't enough just to be coworkers, to be friends. But it's too late now.
And now he comes back from his date, drunk and happy and looking like he's just a few more dates from getting lucky. She probably doesn't make awkward jokes because she doesn't know how to be real and authentic. Celia's probably perfect for Sam, the way Alice never was.
And now all Alice has left are the jokes, so she makes them and she hopes they hide everything.
They don't. Of course they don't.
"Be professional."
And now she's standing there. The ex girlfriend who's not over her old flame and everyone in the office knows it. She's standing there alone and Sam has robbed her of all the jokes.
Who is she without them?
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zyafics · 16 hours
Text
play fake | part eight
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
Laid out on the edge of a heavenly bed, a rustling stirs you awake.
You blink through the thinly-streamed sunlight casting into the room and adjust your vision, trying to decipher where you are.
Rafe stands in front of his closet, shirtless, searching through to find something to wear. When you lift your head off the pillow, groggy sounds escaping your lips, he turns his head. 
"Shit, did I wake you?" He asks, brows furrowed together.
"Are you going somewhere?" You respond, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. "Should I go home?"
Last night, after you accepted Rafe's invitation to stay over at Tannyhill, you didn't do anything other than shower, take a Plan B, and go to sleep. It was a long day and when Rafe shuffled into his sheets, you pulled yourself to the ledge of the mattress. It wasn't done out of separation, but because of an unusual habit you developed as the sole provider for your sisters. You always stay close enough to the edge that, if any problems arise in the middle of the night, you have the fastest exit.
Rafe shakes his head, rounding the bed to approach your side. He can't believe how pretty you are, even just waking up, fresh-faced with no makeup. His chest buzzes with an indescribable feeling.
"It's fine," he declares. "I'm about to head out to brunch with my dad. We have to talk through some things that happened last night."
You don't miss the grimace in his tone.
Frowning, you offer, "do you want me to come?"
Honestly, Rafe would love that. Having you by his side while he’s conversing with his father would ground him. Because he knows, if Ward Cameron sees him as incompetent and expandable, at least with you, he isn’t. 
"You have nothing to wear."
You glance down at your sleepwear, a borrowed shirt from Rafe's closet that cuts mid-thigh, and realize he's right. It wasn't like you packed an overnight bag and your only options are to reuse the gown from last night or your bartender work attire.
There is Sarah's closet but after Rafe's whole conflict with his sister returning, you'd rather not put it on the table.
"Right." You drawl, pressing your lips together while you consider alternatives. "You could drop me off at my house. I can change."
He shakes his head, concealing a rising smile at your determination to attend. "Not enough time."
"What time is it?"
"A quarter after eleven. I have to meet him there by noon."
He's right. The drive to The Cut is going to take most of that time.
"I'll be fine." Rafe declares. "I've handled him for the past twenty-three years. I can handle a few hours."
You nod, saying nothing. What could you say? You're taking Rafe's words at face value and if he believes he can go into this meeting without having another destructive conversation, then you can only believe him.
"I should go then." You throw the comforter off your body, the coldness of the morning breeze sends a shiver down your spine. Your legs drape off the ledge. "Since you won't be here."
"No." Rafe asserts suddenly, causing you to stop in your tracks. "I'll be back. Just hang out here."
He doesn't want you to leave. Whatever conversation he'll have with his father, it would either settle on a concession or a bad ending. Rafe already mentally prepared the layout of his day and he knows he'll need you after. To talk. To comfort. To be here with him.
"Alone?" You confirm, the idea is scandalous to your ears. "In your mansion? Aren't you afraid I'm going to steal something of yours?"
You're playing into Pogue stereotypes, testing if Rafe trusts you enough.
"You wouldn't." He shakes his head with confidence and you still don't have your answer.
“You don’t know that.” You challenge with a tease. “I saw some things downstairs I would like to take home. If I just swipe them when you leave…” Your voice trails off when Rafe settles in front of you, both arms pressed on either side of your hips and he levels down his face to be inches away from yours. 
"I could just buy them for you."
Your heart sputters. You stare back at him, admiring his freshly-clean look with a faint scent of aftershave. He looks handsome. His blue eyes set on you, captivating and waiting. For a brief moment, you could see yourself letting him in. 
You expel an awkward laugh. ‘Yeah, right,” you hit his shoulders, trying to create some distance between the two of you, but it doesn’t work. The touch only further the buzz within you, stirring something from the pit of your stomach. “Like I would let you.” 
"But you'd rather steal?"
You shrug, needing to look away, pretending to admire a thread you found on his sheets. "What did I tell you that day in Topper's house?"
He hazily recounts the details. The night when you came and propositioned him. Where he got into a fight with a stranger for harassing you. Where you patched him up.
"I only remember you on my lap."
You scoff, turning back to him. "Of course you would." 
You make a move to stand, but Rafe lays a hand on your hips, keeping you in place.
"What?" You ask breathlessly, despite the limited movement.
“You promised you were going to ride me.” He recalls lowly, pushing the fabric of his tee up your thighs and creating goosebumps in its wake. “You don’t have makeup on.”
Shaky breaths leave you, trying to remain in control. But you know you’re losing it with every light caress Rafe is giving you, igniting the heat between your legs. “Are you always this horny in the morning?”  
"Just for you, sweetheart."
Your mind is warping and you fumble for excuses.
"I have morning breath."
"We don't have to kiss."
"You have a meeting in less than an hour."
"We'll be quick."
With a huff, you retort. "Do you always have an answer for everything I say?"
He chuckles. "I know you now."
You're afraid he truly does.
Your lips part when his hand cups the underside of your jaw, tilting your gaze to meet his. His eyes scans over your features, reading how willing you are, and mumbles. "That's my girl."
Your skin buzzes with his praise, and Rafe goes to remove your shirt—his shirt that you’re wearing, the sight of which drives him insane—and exposing your bare tits and panties underneath. No matter how many times he sees you naked, it amazes him every time. That it’s him that gets to see you this way. That it’s him who gets to touch you. 
"Fuck." He whispers, sinking to his knees as his hands spread your legs apart. He wants nothing more than to sink in you, but he wants to please you first. Lowering, Rafe kisses the base of your knee to your inner thighs. "You're so fucking gorgeous."
It's things like this that make your head spin. Not the mind-blowing sex—no, that's a plus—but his words. The little acts. You don't know whether to trust them because mostly, he only utters them when you're intimate. You know how different it can be afterwards.
His fingers go under the band of your underwear and take them off with your assistance. 
"Such a pretty pussy." His thumb traces up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and causing you to buckle from his slow, teasing touch.
"Rafe." You warn. "The time."
He glances over his shoulders to the digital clock sitting on his dresser and turns back to you with a smirk. "How about you watch it and tell me how I'm doing?"
"You have a meeting soon."
"Baby, you really don't want to rush me." He declares, moving closer and pushing your legs onto his shoulders. His tongue lightly grazes your cunt, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip. "I wanna enjoy this."
Rafe flattens his tongue, performing languid strokes as your fingers threads through his hair. You arch into his face when he sucks on your clit, his fingers entering you in simultaneous thrusts. Your eyes flutter close from the sensation.
"You taste so good, baby, I could have you for breakfast every morning." He mumbles against your opening, the vibration of his rasps elevates the pleasure and aids you towards your climax.
When you come on his face, Rafe guides you through your release and when he pulls back, he checks the clock. "Not bad, huh?"
You shake your head softly, a dazed smile on your lips. "I bet I can do better."
"Yeah?"
You push yourself forward to remove his sweatpants, the outline of his bulge prominent, and while you tease him with light traces on his lower abdomen, the sound of a ringtone interrupts you.
Rafe moves over to the dresser where his phone sits and answers the call from his father. "Yeah?" He greets, listening to what Ward has to say. "You said twelve."
Another exchange is made before Rafe ends, and when he does, he rolls his eyes, agitation evident on his features. "I have to go. My dad is moving up the time."
You smother the aching disappointment and nod. "Okay," you say, picking up your panties from the floor and sliding them over your hips. You glance over to the door, contemplating your own exit. He notices. 
"I'll be back, alright?" Rafe reaffirms, coming over to plant a gentle kiss on your temple and your body leans into his touch. "Just stay."
While you wait for Rafe to explain, you take a tour around the estate. Midway through your exploration of family portraits and expensive winery around the kitchen, you receive a phone call from the babysitter. 
"Hello?" You answer, while the babysitter is scrambling to produce coherent words. "Wait, wait, slow down. What's going on?"
She doesn't explain much, informing you to get home immediately and hangs up. Your heart sputters by the sudden disconnect and you race to Rafe's bedroom to collect your things before ordering a rideshare. When you hop in, your leg restlessly taps on the floor of the car while you check the battery on your phone.
You're imagining the worst possible scenarios. Something happened to your sisters. They got injured. One of them is in the hospital. The other is missing. Or, somehow, the house caught on fire and now, you're homeless.
When you reached your destination, the car didn't halt to a full stop before you hopped out, running down the driveway to the familiar, unscathed house. That calms your mind for a moment.
Before you realize it's something much worse.
"Aaron." You murmur, shoulders tense as your eyes widen, recognizing the tall dark-haired man standing in front of your door, talking to the babysitter who's blocking the entryway. He turns his head at your arrival, eyes cascading down your body before meeting your gaze.
"Y'know, you've been a hard woman to find." He chuckles to himself, the sound making all the hair on your body stand up. Aaron pushes himself off the beam of your porch. "Where you been?"
Your heart is hammering in your chest. You glance over to the babysitter to signal her and she reenters the house and barricades the door. Inhaling a sharp breath, you try to calm yourself.
"What are you doing here?"
He tsk. "Wrong answer. I asked you first."
"I know I'm late—"
"I don't wanna hear excuses." He holds out his hand, flexing the various dark ink crawling up his forearms. "I just want an answer."
His voice is calm. Too calm. It's scaring you.
"I've been busy. Business been slow—"
"Is that not an excuse I'm hearing?" He says, stepping closer to you. You can see the outline of his gun tucked under the band of his pants and your breath shortens. "Where have you been?"
With your heartbeat in your throat, you don't know what answer you can give to satisfy him. So, you remain silent.
When Aaron realizes that, he tilts his gaze out into the driveway with a huff. "I heard you been running around with a Kook," he states, matter-of-fact, and you can smell the faint stench of nicotine wafting from his clothes. "Was that him?"
He's referring to your rideshare driver. You shake your head frantically. "No. But, I swear to you, I'll get you your money if I have more time."
He scoffs in disbelief, turning back and ignoring your pleas. His dark eyes find the pendant wrapped around your neck and he lets out a cold chuckle. "And he's been giving you some real nice gifts, too."
Fuck, this isn't a good look for you. Your panic is skyrocketing and you resist the strongest urge to hide the expensive jewelry behind your palm.
"Aaron." You begin again, your voice shifting to desperation. "I just need a little bit more time. This doesn't mean—"
He holds out another hand. "Look, I've been a nice guy. Wouldn't you say so?" He prompts, tilting his head, and when you don't answer, he adds. "I mean, what kind of person would lend you thirty grand? I consider that pretty generous, right?"
You swallow hard, your throat dry. "Right."
"And I've done nothin' yet to make you not trust me otherwise, right?"
You hesitate with a shaky breath, your knees buckling. "Right."
"So, all I'm asking is to return the gesture and give me back my money. I help you, you help me, that's how this relationship works, right?"
"Aaron, I—"
"If you interrupt me one more time, I'll cut out that fucking tongue."
You let out a small whimper, silencing yourself. Both hands tucked behind your back. He smiles at your submission, dark eyes gleaming in pride. "Good."
Aaron draws closer, stopping just in front of you. His grimy fingers trails down the length of your neck, following the chain of your necklace, before grabbing the pendant between his fingers and ripping it off. The clasp breaks and a gasp leaves your lips.
With his other hand, he seizes the back of your neck.
"Three days." He threatens, the grip piercing into your skin. "I'm givin' you three more days and if you can't pay me back by then, I won't be such a nice guy anymore."
He waves the dangling necklace in front of your face. "I'll keep this as collateral."
You're shaking under his touch and he notices, smiling crudely, before he does another sweep of your exposed body. "And y'know, there's other ways of paying me back."
Aaron finally releases you, and you stumble away from him with a few steps. The dark-haired man descends off your porch and disappears on his bike, leaving you trembling at the foot of your door.
You don't move for the next few minutes. Your mind is occupied with everything going on, that when you slip into your house, you run on autopilot.
You pay the babysitter, patting her back as a silent gratitude for her assistance and protection, and gather your sisters onto the couch, holding them close. Hugging them tight. Trying to use their heartbeats to calm yours.
The rest of the night is spent with them. They wanted to watch a movie and you pulled out an old disk of their favorite films. With that on, they quickly fall asleep on your shoulders and you carry them to their bedroom.
That's when the real work begins.
Spending the rest of your time on the kitchen island, devising a plan, you hear a knock at your door.
Afraid that the loan shark had returned to make a second visit, you hoped it would go away, only for the sound to grow more intense and adamant. Your fear spikes and you were afraid he was going to do something much worse if you didn't answer. When you approached the front door, you held your breath.
Only to find a blond.
"Where were you?" Rafe demands, his expression unreadable but his words are cold. It rubs you the wrong way, reminding you too closely of Aaron.
You can't handle it. You attempt to shut the door, only for Rafe to stick his foot between the crack and push back.
"What the fuck? What are you doing?" Rafe enters into your house, his eyes searching the place for anything out of the ordinary, anything you would hide from him, before his gaze lands on you.
You cross your arms protectively over your chest, thinking this is another one of his outbursts. "Rafe, I don't have time right now. Whatever you're pissed off about, you have to wait—"
"I came home and you were gone."
That quiets you.
"Your shit was gone. Even your mess from the bathroom was wiped clean." He recounts, struggling to conceal the vulnerability seeping through his words with each reveal. "You didn't even leave a note."
Your mind is muddled. You didn't realize it would affect him this much and something about the act endears you. You were so frantic, trying to figure out how to get home before your phone dies, that you forgot your own commitment to Rafe.
"Say something." He urges.
"What happened?" You ask softly, discovering your answer when his expression twists. Like he doesn't want to think about it. You don't want to think about your problems either. "I assumed you would go to a party."
You say that because, if Rafe didn't have you conveniently-located at his disposal, he would return to his own vices. It stings him that you still thought of him as his former image, but he couldn't completely fault you because he did—he went to one of the island's parties and came out still feeling empty.
Rafe's jaw locks as he stares at you, breathing heavily. Taking you in. How just the sight of you seems to soothe him. He doesn't know how to explain it, when the tides changed, but it did. The fact that he's here, in this rundown house in the middle of The Cut after a blowout with his father, all because he misses you says it all.
"I don't want to talk." He declares firmly, the resoluteness of his tone shocks you. "Not now. But I will, after, if that's what you want."
You draw your brows together. "What are you getting at, Rafe?"
Rafe swears under his breath. These words, these feelings are difficult to him. It's uncomfortable and unwanted and all it makes him want to do is resort back to his anger, something comfortable he can express himself in. But he can't. Not with you.
"I don't want that shit anymore. I just wanna fuck you."
Your lips part. "What?"
Unintentionally, the natural response came with a tone of hurt but you disguise it well. You recognize your own feelings in that precise moment. When you got into this relationship with Rafe, you knew nothing he does is out of the sincerity of his heart. It's a committed act. A performance of a perfect boyfriend.
Yet, it breaks your heart. How you manage to fall for him, despite knowing everything he does is fake. Even now, standing before you, he's admitting his clear intentions and you can't help but envision another meaning.
It can destroy you, this hope, only if you let it. You'd rather let the clear lines be drawn. If Rafe is telling you he wants to use you for sex, so be it. You won't ask for anything else.
When your silence becomes deafening, Rafe abandons his last shred of pride.
"Please."
You inhale sharply, evening your words. You can detach too. "Ask me."
His large hand tucks under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "Can I use you?"
"Yes."
The confirmation was all he needed before his lips slams into yours. His hands lowers to capture your ass and as a signal, you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist. Rafe moves through the hallway and towards your bedroom, kick-opening the door, causing the doorknob to smash into your wall with a loud thump.
You pull back from the kiss. "Don't break my house."
"I'll pay for that."
Rafe drops you onto the bed and pulls off his shirt you took from Tannyhill. His movements are skilled and hurried, needing to see you, to taste you. He kisses down your neck, to the curve of your shoulders, before finding himself between the valley of your breasts. His mouth covers a nipple.
You tip your head back with a moan, reveling in the way his tongue twirls around the metal barbell, igniting your nerves. Rafe rocks against your spread legs and you feel his bulge teasing your core. "Rafe, please."
"What did I tell you about rushing me?" He murmurs against your skin. "I'm trying to enjoy this."
The challenge hangs in the air and when Rafe gives both of your tits equal attention, he pulls back to admire the sight of your hard nipples wet and glistening. Tilting his gaze up to you, he palms a breast in his hand.
"I'm going to be rough." He announces. "Tell me if it hurts."
Your heart swells from the gesture but you wish he would just do it without caution. It'll be easier to separate your feelings.
Leaning forward to capture a kiss, you breathe into his mouth. "You said use me, right? Then use me."
His eyes darken. "Don't say something you'll regret."
"Then make me regret it."
You're exactly what he needs.
Rafe wastes no more time and strips out of his clothes, his cock springing free from his boxer, all red and swollen. You can't help but feel a pang of pity, remembering how he had to leave this morning without release.
Reaching out to cup him, he snatches your wrists in one hand. "What do you think you're doing?"
You pout. "I'm helping you."
"Did I tell you to?" His words are commanding, shifting to a state that leaves no room for arguments. You swallow hard, feeling a thrill passing through you at his control. "Are you going to be a good girl tonight and do as you're told?" 
You nod.
"I need words, sweetheart."
"Yes." You say desperately and Rafe releases you.
Pushing you back against the mattress, he pulls you to the ledge and removes your shorts and panties. When you're open and dripping for him, he thrusts into you without warning.
"Shit," you let out a cry. Rafe pushes the back of your thighs into a bend, your kneecaps beside your ears, and this new position gives him access to enter deeper.
"Fuck, I needed this." He moans, burying in ecstasy at the way you wrap perfectly around him. "Why would I ever want to go to another fucking party when I can have this every night?"
You can't answer him, too lost in the initial pain that quickly fades into your credence of pleasure. Moans escape you, elevating in volume with each pump. You had to slap both your hands over your mouth to muffle your sounds from waking your sisters.
Rafe recognizes that immediately. That's the only reason he isn't ripping them off right now—to let him hear how he makes you feel, to listen to what he's owed—because he knows where your priorities lie.
"Please don't stop," you whimper through your fingers, which are slowly loosening as you feel the familiar tension tightening in your gut.
"Sweetheart, God can't even pull me away from this pussy right now." Rafe grunts. Your walls flutter around him. "You're about to come, aren't you?"
You nod desperately and Rafe fastens his rhythm, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as you race towards your orgasm with a loud, uninhibited moan that echoes through the room. He had to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.
Panting, you try to catch your breath but Rafe doesn't allow you to rest. Still hungry, still needing, he pulls out and flips you on your stomach, hauling your ass in the air.
Your legs burn from the way he folded you but you still get on your knees. Breathing heavily with your profile pressed against your sheets, you feel his hands flattening against the smooth curve of your cheeks, squeezing.
Rafe takes his time to admire you from behind. So willing, so wanting, he can see you dripping and making a mess on your covers. He chuckles. "Do you need me, baby?"
"I want you," you breathe, "inside, please."
"Inside where?" Rafe grips the base, tapping his tip on your wet folds. "Here?" He mocks, before shifting to the opening of your asshole. "Or here?"
Your breath hitches; the unfamiliar contact sends a shiver down your spine.
"Come on, sweetheart. I need an answer." Rafe taunts, rubbing his slick cock over your hole, anticipation pricking his skin as he sees you contract. "Would this be your first?"
You nod, too disoriented to form words.
He grins. "Are you going to let me fuck your asshole?"
The feeling of your slickness rubbing against your back entrance feels foreign but not unwelcome, sending hot desire to your core. While you struggle to produce an affirmative, Rafe leans forward to grab your throat, pulling you upright.
"Are you going to answer me, Pogue, or am I going to have to do it for you?"
You hate the term Pogue, especially when he uses it, but at this moment, with his hot breath fanning the crook of your neck, you're glad he is. It reminds you—to separate the sex and your heart.
"Whatever you want." You confess.
Rafe drops you back onto the mattress, spitting on your asshole and wets the area with the pad of his thumb. He didn't immediately enter, as you would have predicted, and instead pushed a thick digit through your hole.
You try to relax, shivering through unfamiliar contact.
"Oh, shit, you're so tight for me." He breathes out, sliding in two. "I know you're going to make me come in a second."
He thrusts in-and-out at a slow pace, prepping you, but the lack of friction is causing you to grow impatient and needy. All you want is him. 
"Do it. I'm ready."
Rafe laughs. Not listening. "But this isn't about you, is it?"
He tests you out for a couple more minutes, getting you comfortable and relaxed, and it lures you into a false sense of security. When you find yourself gathering your breath, it shifts into a sudden emptiness of his removal, and before you know it—he pushes the head of his cock in, surprising you with a scream. 
The pressure stings from the initial intrusion, and you wince, gripping onto the sheets and burying your face, but as Rafe gradually fills you, the pain fades into an unlikely pleasure, floating and amplified all over your body.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans. "Am I hurting you?"
You hesitate before nodding. "Yes..."
He stills. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head. "No."
Something ignites deep and carnal within Rafe. The way your body tightens, your legs shaking, and the submission in your voice as he has his way with you. The fact that you want to continue, despite the hurt, because he wants it, drives him insane.
"You're being such a good girl tonight."
The compliment drives your enthusiasm and you wiggle your ass against his cock, feeling him twitch inside of you. It flips his control. Rafe quickly grabs your hips, holding you in place.
He grits out. "Don't do that."
"Why not?" You whine, wanting to feel him deeper, more full. "I'm only trying to help."
A laugh can't help but escape him. At how cockdrunk you are—it carves something in his chest. "God, you really are my personal slut. Doing anything to make me feel good, won't you?"
You don't answer, the call-out warming your cheeks at your own recognition. You said it once during sex, a tease on him, but now you can't help but see how true it is. Now, it feels like an attack on the independent facade you crafted as part of your character.
Rafe wants to hear you. He grips your hips harder, leaving bruises. "Say it."
You shake your head. You don't want him to know how much you're willing to give him. It's too vulnerable.
The lack of silence isn't enough for him.
Rafe rails into you, bottoming out, and you let out a cry at the intensity of his size, at the pressure buried in you, and the pain-pleasure that pulsates through your body. You understand it's your own punishment, but your teeth sinks into your bottom lip, refusing to budge.
He goes again. And again. To the point that he's rage-fucking you, abandoning all restraints and channeling his aggression from his brunch and your disobedience. He wants to know you'll be willing to sacrifice your pride as much as he sacrifices his and he's pissed that you aren't.
A tit-for-tat. 
One of your hands slips between your legs, rubbing your clit in simulation. The euphoria explodes all over, especially with how Rafe fills you from behind, and you moan wildly, causing him to discover the act and pin your wrists behind your back.
"No."
"Rafe." You beg, the ache between your legs is demanding and left without resolution. "Touch me."
He shakes his head with a tsk. "Bad girls don't deserve that."
You have a retort on your lips but it's forgotten the moment he thrusts into you, so deep, it hits a spot you didn't know existed and causes you to roll your eyes to the back of your head.
"Fuck, you're loud." He grumbles, grabbing your panties from the side and bundling them into a tight ball, shoving it into your mouth. You choke on surprise.
"Rafe–"
"Shut. Up." He warns viciously, knowing the increment level of noises you're producing is going to wake your siblings. Another reason why you won't let him in. "And just take it like a good slut."
Something about his command exhilarates you. Bounded and gagged, Rafe is fucking your ass, and all you can think about is you're letting him. You want this. Even with his harsh words.
You had to give him something.
"Like yours." You admit, the muffling of your panties works wonders at stifling your words.
Despite that, he heard it. Rafe pauses for a moment. You aren't giving him everything, but he hears it in the confession.
His command is low. "Say that again."
"I'm yours." You whimper, desperate and submissive. "Please make me come."
His chest warms and his smile is smug. Rafe slides his hand from your hips to your needy cunt, rubbing your swollen nub with tight circles, causing you to buckle and heightening your rising peak.
"Oh, fuck," you gasp with a sharp breath, "oh, god, oh, god."
When you come, your orgasm hits in waves—intense and demanding—ripping out of you despite the gag, and searing in such an elevated state that you slump back onto the bed. Rafe has to abandon everything to grab your middle, holding you up.
He continues to penetrate you from behind until he fills you up, his hot cum leaking out of you. When he pulls out, he takes his fingers and pushes it back in, causing you to contract with a low, lazy moan.
You're out of it. You thought it would be the end but Rafe's appetite is insatiable. He settles back against the headboard of your bed, breathing heavily with a sheen of sweat covering his taut chest, and beckons you.
"Rafe," you groan weakly. "What?"
"Come here."
Despite the throbbing in your muscles, you crawl to him. Settling next to his pelvis, you glance down at his softening cock. "Get me hard again."
Your eyes widen at the instruction. "Are you not tired?"
"Never of you."
You roll your eyes before your fingers gingerly wrap around his shaft, slowly rubbing him out, feeling it harden underneath your touch in a matter of seconds. You gleam in a bit of pride at your ability. You turn back to him, drawn out and exhausted. "Now, what?"
"Ride me."
"What?"
"Come on, sweetheart." He teases, grabbing your waist and moving you to mount over him. Your entrance hovers over his tip, sensitive—so, so sensitive—that you let out a small whine. "You have a promise to keep."
You try. Lowering yourself to let the head in, you immediately pull back, hissing from your overestimation with a fervent shake of your head.
"Rafe." You pant, eyes searching his face. "I can't. I–I think I'm done."
"I'm not." And with that, he thrusts upwards and into you. You collapse onto his cock, sinking down with a cry as tears prick your line of vision from the overwhelming ache of pleasure.
You still move against him, trying to produce some friction, despite your words. Rafe sees how you're working, trying to please him, that he pulls you down to capture your mouth in a tender kiss, drawing out your pain with some pleasantry.
His hand cups the side of your face and you melt into his touch, the act removes all your inhibitions. When he retreats, he whispers against your lips. "Last one, okay, baby? I know you can hold out for me a little longer."
Determination courses through you.
You, with tear-stained cheeks, nods. You straighten your posture, closing your eyes and will yourself through the pain, bouncing on his cock and ignoring the burning sensation in the back of your thighs.
Rafe watches your tits bounce and uses the opportunity to capture the bar lined between your nipples, twisting and pulling them to produce pleasure for you. The additive of his touch pushes your body into overdrive and you feel yourself growing closer once again.
"Please, please, please." You beg, to anyone, anything with a higher power, to guide you through this climax. It's the hardest to peak, and you try to quicken your pace, but your legs give out and you fall flat. Rafe, knowing the familiar twitch of your walls around him, begins to assist and thrusts into you.
"I'm close, baby," he grunts, pumping forward with enough force that pushes both of you through your orgasm and riding out your highs together. You clench so tightly around him, in the aftermath, that he can barely move. 
When you feel the familiar warm pool spilling inside of you, you let him empty it all out, and when you dismount, you fall into the space beside Rafe, leaking and complete fucked out.
Rafe knows your next move is to pull to the ledge, to separate some distance between the two of you, but he doesn't give you the chance before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. His breathing is heavy, his heart rate is fast, and he's worn out from the session.
You don't resist, letting yourself calm down with him. It isn't until he presses a soft kiss to the back of your shoulders and wipes away some of your tears that your stomach flips. "You okay?" He murmurs against your heated skin. 
You want to cry. Not from the sensation but because of how gentle he's treating you after; how it's messing with your feelings and making you think of things you shouldn't.
"I'm fine." You lie, putting your hand over his arms and peeling them off of your body before pulling to the ledge. It feels like a safety tactic nowadays.
Rafe takes it as some kind of rejection and when you move into a sitting position, back pressed against the headboard, you turn to him with a raised brow.
"Do you want to talk about it now?" You ask, doing something, anything to stop this feeling from building inside of your chest and giving you hope. You remind yourself of the transactions; the falsehood of it all.
He doesn't, especially with the distance, but he does it anyway, out of respect for your terms.
"My dad is giving away the case to Sarah."
Your lips part. "What?"
"The one with the marsh and hotel? Yeah."
You pause, taking a few seconds to gather your words. "And you're upset because it's unfair?"
He doesn't answer you immediately. He's not upset about the case itself, there's hundreds of other opportunities for him to handle business like that. Especially now knowing he could. It was the fact that it was our case, because you helped him figure it out. You were his partner.
He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I worked hard on it. She doesn't deserve all the credit."
You hum in understanding. "I'm sorry."
Rafe huffs. "I don't need your pity."
"It's not pity, it's compassion." You correct. "You're pissed and you're hurt by something your dad did to you. It's okay to feel that. I'm sorry you have to feel that."
Rafe says nothing, watching you.
His heart aches.
You’re so understanding. So perfect. He doesn’t know how to explain how every time he comes in with this need for you, for you to satisfy him physically, only to come out of it a different man. Someone better. Someone more in-tuned with himself. He never had someone like that in his life. 
He looks at you like you’re a dream but he’s afraid he isn’t yours. 
You decide to move the conversation elsewhere, not wanting to end the night in such a depressive state. "Are you staying the night?" 
“Are you kicking me out?” Rafe asks tightly. 
He wants to understand you, of where you’re ranking him at. He knows he’s going to absolutely lose it if he has to go back to Tannyhill tonight. 
"No." You declare, grabbing the comforter and throwing it over your body. You should really take a shower and clean up, but you're so exhausted right now, all you want is to go to sleep and figure it out tomorrow.
"Does that mean..." He trails off, wanting to hear you say it, wanting you to ask him.
You don't.
"Whatever you want, Rafe." You yawn, rubbing your eyes. "If you stay, you stay. If you leave, just make sure to lock the door behind you."
And with that, you fell asleep.
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nerdpoe · 8 hours
Text
The reveal went right. Too right. Jack and Maddie will do anything to protect their son. Vlad will do anything to protect his new daughter. Dan will...suck it up.
When Danny told his parents he was Phantom, not only did they take it well, but they immediately started rallying to get the Anti-Ecto Acts taken down.
They rewrote their research, reached out to other Paranormal Scientists, and did everything they could.
That was when the assassination attempts started. They were all targeting...Danny. Not Jack, Maddie, or Jazz. Just Danny.
Moving Danny in with Vlad didn't stop them; if anything, the assassination attempts got even worse.
During a fight with one particular assassin that got past Vlad's security, Danny, Dan, and Dani knocked over some of Vlad's more...unstable experimental Ecto.
It...changed them. Reflected the age of their Ghost selves.
Danny and Dani are now two years old. Dan is somewhere around twenty-four.
Vlad...thinks this is perfect. He has an idea. The government is trying to kill a sixteen year old, they won't look at a couple of toddlers.
He smuggles them out of Wisconsin and gives Dan a bag. Inside of that bag is cash, fake IDs, and all the fake history Dan would need to start a new life. His cover is he's a single father to a set of twins.
Vlad looks pleased with himself. Dan valiantly restrains from punching him.
It has nothing to do with the fact that there are two toddlers watching him with way-too-big eyes.
Dan...sucks it up. He's an adult now, he can just kill all the agents, he doesn't understand why Vlad is so desperate to run. But whatever. Fine, he guesses.
He starts his shitty new life.
His only saving grace is that his neighbor, a guy named Roy Harper, is also new to the whole parenting shtick. They end up hanging out more often or not, letting Roy's Lian play with Danny and Dani, and typically babysit for each other if they can.
~~~~~~
Years later, Dan ends up saving Lian's life during a huge attack on the city that caused the apartment to collapse.
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a-b-riddle · 1 day
Text
Part Four
Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.
"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.
"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."
"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.
"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."
You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.
"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.
Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.
It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.
It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.
In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.
"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."
"You think it was a stunt?"
"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."
"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."
"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."
"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."
"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."
You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.
You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.
"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”
For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.
Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?
"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.
You were finally angry.
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hawkinsbnbg · 2 days
Text
For all the things those nimble hands could do, Eddie didn't know how to peel an orange without making a mess.
Steve always found it amusing how his husband could craft intricate pieces of artwork, but when it came to simple things, he suddenly became clumsy with flailing limbs and confused puppy eyes.
Despite his many attempts and determination, Eddie always failed in the end with ruined oranges clutched in his hands while juices spilling everywhere.
And Steve would eat them anyway. Because they didn't waste food, and because they loved each other at their best and their worst.
They were sitting on the couch with his feet in Eddie's lap as those deft hands rubbing and kneading the soreness away from his muscles.
"Wish I could learn how to do that," Eddie said while watching Steve peel the orange.
And you don't need to because I'm glad I can always do this for you, Steve wanted to say.
Instead, he tore the fruit in half and then shuffled into Eddie's lap.
As he fed his husband and himself section after section, he thought the aligned stars might as well have their names written on them.
Their fates were twining red strings, woven and knitted into a lovely knot.
"Teach me how to do it, sweetheart?" Eddie held him securely and pecked the corner of his lips.
"Peeling oranges?" Steve arched his eyebrow.
"Yeah, so I can pick out the white parts for you," Eddie gazed at him, warm like the Sunday morning when they slept in and cuddled while it was raining outside.
Steve met those chocolate eyes that filled his veins with honey and turned his inside into molasses.
Their love was a gentle thing, but no less powerful.
Just like an orange. It was built to share with many pulps and juicy flesh. And yet, its skin was unyielding, stubborn to a fault.
Even Steve had had to look up for a few tricks to take it apart.
And perhaps, that also applied to their love. To reach the rewarding part, one had to work for it.
Nothing had ever been easy for them.
But here, sitting in Eddie's lap and tasting the same orange with him, Steve felt like all those years, all their pains and losses had finally paid off.
"I can pick out the white parts myself," Steve pointed out gently.
"And what kind of husband am I to not help you with it?" Eddie countered with an easy smile. "We're one half of each other's, darlin'. I'm not gonna let you do anything alone."
"Even peeling oranges?" Steve leaned closer to whisper into those plump lips.
"Especially peeling oranges," Eddie gave him a citrus kiss, sour and sweet, fond and tender.
And Steve was putty in those loving hands.
Maybe, he thought dimly as Eddie took off his shirt, they could make marmalade together next time.
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imfinereallyy · 2 days
Text
I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2
pt. 1
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.
He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.
Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.
Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.
Little shit.
Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.
Looking at you, Lucas.
Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.
Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.
Until he did, with Eddie.
Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.
Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.
Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.
"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"
"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.
Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.
She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.
Fuck, he loved her.
"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.
Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.
"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.
"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.
Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.
"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."
It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.
Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.
Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"
Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"
Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."
Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."
Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.
Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."
Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."
Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"
"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."
"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.
Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.
"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."
Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.
Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.
Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.
Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.
"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.
"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."
Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"
"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.
Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."
Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."
The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."
Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."
Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"
It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."
"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.
Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.
Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.
tag list!:
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emiko-matsui · 1 day
Text
Okay, I just need to get something out of the way when it comes to the Kipperlilly conversation nobody's brought up yet, which I think is insane. Almost all of The Bad Kids would be more powerful if they didn't have their tragedy porn tragic backstories.
First of all, this doesn't apply to Fig and Gorgug because if Fig wasn't Gorthalax's child she would be a lot like Kipperlilly and not the ruler of hell. I wouldn't say Gorgug has a tragic backstory, he's got a pretty normal growing up experience with ups and downs.
Let's start with her #1 nemesis, Riz Gukgak. She's so jealous that his dad was murdered and that gives him an advantage in the adventuring life. To be crude, no, it doesn't. What would give Riz an advantage in the adventuring life would be living with someone who has a direct contact to all the government's inner workings and conspiracies. Now that would be an advantage. That gives you connections and clues that no one else can get. This is not what happened. What happened was eating cereal with water for breakfast, what happened was not getting an opportunity at college, what happened was a 9 year old who stopped sleeping, what happened was not your secret agent dad giving you an advantage in the school conspiracy because he's dead. Otherwise he fucking would've.
And now Kipperlilly's new #1 nemesis, Kristen Applebees. She was ostracised from her religion for her sexuality, she achieved sainthood, and raised a dead god back to life. None of this would've happened if she hadn't been raised in The Harvestmen. No, it wouldn't, but what would have happened if Kristen had been straight? Disgusting thought, yes, I know, but let's talk about it. A Kristen who never left Helio behind would have so many more fucking advantages than the one with Cassandra has. If she had followed her birthright she would be the only chosen one of one of the world's most powerful gods. Sol is the biggest god in Spyre and Helio is his son. Helio does not have a chosen one anymore because Kristen left. It's not a title that's just given out, it could only have been Kristen. You know what's an advantage? Being the chosen one of one of the world's most powerful gods, being a god's spoken favourite, and deified by all of that god's followers. Now that would be an unfair advantage. You know what's not an advantage? Being homeless at 14 and being at the mercy of your ex-girlfriend's uncle for housing, dying and having absolutely no one there for you so you're only option to survive is to trust your own abilities enough to raise yourself from the dead, and failing school because of biased teachers.
And what of Adaine Abernant? The Elven Oracle? Her tragedy porn tragic backstory is surviving an abusive home. Now I just have to imagine that Adaine would have it a lot easier than most students, an incredible amount of unfair advantages, if her old money parents paid for every wizard whim she wanted, kept her diplomatic immunity so she could do literally anything she wanted without consequences, and gave her a direct contact into the heart of the Fallinell government. Now that is what I would call an insane amount of unfair advantage. I would be furious at this rich kid who's never had to work for anything myself. This is not even close to the case. She's barely passing classes because she can't afford the material you're required, she goes to the guidance counsellor for panic attacks, and she's being hunted by her home government. I'd say that's about every single thing in her life working against her having it easy.
Fabian Aramais Seacaster. He's complicated since he is very privileged already. He gets 5000 gold a month just for existing. He's the captain of the Owlbears because he killed the previous one. He lives alone in a mansion. Yeah, that's pretty privileged. His parents are also so severely fucked up that if they hadn't been filthy rich they would've been absolutely horrible for him. If he had parents who unconditionally supported him and stayed with him through everything, then we could talk about perhaps the most powerful person in Elmville. In Solace possibly. The most feared pirate in history who single-handedly dismantled a monarchy and fights against armies on his own is at your beck and call, does whatever you ask him to, and loves you more than anything. The greatest swordswoman in the world, that bested the most feared pirate in the world, the daughter of one of the most influential elven families and immortal will do anything you ask her, loves you to bits, and would cheat any rules for you. To have that would just be insane. You can argue that Fabian already has unfair advantages because of his social status and inheritance. This is true, but this is also true within his own adventuring party. Now his parents aren't helping him with anything and are determined that he reach his legendary status on his own. Otherwise talk about a fucking advantage.
All this to say is that if Kipperlilly got all of The Bad Kids tragedy porn like she wanted she wouldn't have been better, but she would've made them better. There is an adventuring party out there in the multiverse that has a secret agent at their disposal, the only chosen one of a Sol religion, Bill Seacaster and Hallariel Lomenelda unprompted in their corner, and a seer with unending resources and diplomatic immunity. These would've been people you start a platform about adventuring not being fair for everyone because of. The people you went against was a homeless kid, a kid with an anxiety disorder, a trust fund kid, and someone with PTSD.
I've seen your posts about Kipperlilly being wrong for her validation, but right in the fact that The Bad Kids have been given larger plots and mysteries because of their families and circumstances and I don’t want to fucking see another one. When you make that I want you to think about the adventuring party they would've been without their backstories. The insanely powerful and privileged adventuring party that almost happened. Their life got made worse, not easier because their life could have been so fucking easy. Kipperlilly can take all the tragedy porn she wants and then maybe realise that that's not what makes the adventurer. That the reason she's mad at The Bad Kids is the only reason she can even tangentially compete with them.
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The fact that radfems spread this post around is actually really interesting--infuriating, but interesting. Because what they've really done here is tell on themselves.
This is the shrimp guy story:
From an anonymous green text called "shrimp saved my life" [emphasis mine]:
>be depressed, suicidal xanax- addicted incel >one day I go to my /aq/fag uncle's house for some shit >he has pet shrimp, never seen anything like it before >he offers to get me some 53 KB JPG >throw them in a barely cycled tank with some shitty rock >several shrimp die >realize that I killed them with my apathy >realize I need to take responsibility for once in my life >do research, learn about water parameters and so on >eventually I have a beautiful planted tank with no more deaths >notice a female shrimp carrying eggs >haven't felt this excited about anything in almost a decade >the eggs disappear and I once again think I fucked up >a few days later I see a tiny transparent baby shrimp >l suddenly know how the shepherds felt as they gazed upon the newborn Christ >by this point I live and breathe shrimp >all my spare time is spent on shrimp research and watching shrimp videos >l spend most of the money I had saved from my last job on shrimp products >quit the Xanax to support shrimp spending >start putting effort into college in hope of getting a good job for my shrimp >grades improve, no longer facing the prospect of dropping out >relationship with parents improves since I am finally passionate about something and applying myself >l see genuine happiness in their eyes when I talk excitedly about my shrimp >for my birthday my mom makes me a shrimp cake >it even has fondant legs and little chocolate eggs >cry like a little bitch when I see it >mom hugs me and tells me she's always been proud of me >college dorm neighbours demand to see my shrimp >shit they're gonna think I'm autistic >they actually think my shrimp are really cool >they start inviting me to their social events >start interacting with girls, get told by girls for the first time in my life that I'm fun and smart >l think my shrimp would be proud of me if they knew >We're gonna make it bros. Even if you can't do it for yourself, do it for the animals that depend on you.
He did address his relationship with women. By finding a hobby and passion and working on himself--"touching grass"--he stepped away from the echo chamber that filled him with all this rage and convinced him women were to blame for all of his problems. As someone once wisely observed, "the cure is going offline and realizing it's just. really not that big a deal."
And that is what radfems have not done, so of course they didn't spot the quiet flashpoint of shrimp guy's personal development within his story.
Edit: it's been brought to my attention that the version of the greentext post I lifted the text from was censored by someone else. My bad for not realizing that, tbh it was done so well I thought shrimp guy had done it himself, but that's an important part of the post. I've gone back through and un-censored it. The reply which was spread around with the original post addressed the words themselves well, I think; however distasteful and fucked up the incel rabbit hole is, it doesn't diminish his growth.
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