#i already have every frame of it stuck in my head anyway

[tomhollandsblog]

Hii!! Can you write a Joost x Reader where reader goes with him on tour, but they made a mistake with the hotel rooms and reader has to share a room / bed with Joost? 👀

here you goooooooo

to be desired ~ joost klein friends to lovers one shot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader

Description: A hotel room mix-up not only forces you to share a bed with your friend Joost but also some feelings you had tried to hide away for too long.

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: I hope you like it, if you do pls show your support by reblogging ❣️❣️ send in requests i'm having fun with this! 💌

Warnings: not proofread

"Alright, I'm gonna head out early tonight," you let Adam know. You were backstage at one of Joost's shows, only the last few songs were yet to be performed.

"Already?" Adam asked as he looked up from whatever he was working on.

"Yeah, can you let Joost know later?" you asked although you had already told your friend earlier tonight that you probably wouldn't last long tonight.

"Will do. Keycard's on the desk," he informed you, pointing to the desk by the door where you were standing. Adam was Joost's tour manager and one of his duties taking care of everyone's accommodation which usually included him checking in for everyone and distributing the hotel key cards backstage. You snatched the keycard and waved goodbye to Adam as you headed out.

During the short walk to the hotel you looked around the streets of this city you had never been in before. You were so grateful that Joost had suggested you join him for tour three months ago. The offer came about after you had spent an evening smoking on Joost's balcony, venting to him about feeling uninspired, directionless and stuck in your routine and environment.

"Like, I just wanna be everywhere all the time and instead I'm just in my flat all day every day," you complained to him and he nodded.

"Why don't you come with me on tour?" he had just asked bluntly and your first instinct was to decline. But then you wondered, why not? What's stopping you? You could do your work remotely from anywhere anyway and you loved to travel. Getting out of your usual environment and routine was exactly what you needed and Joost offered you the solution on a silver platter.

"Alright, why not?" you shrugged. Joost got up from his seat to hug you in excitement.

"My best friend is coming on tour with me," he said and you laughed as you hugged him back. What he didn't know is that you longed to be so much more than his best friend, but you declared that a problem for another day.  

"Oh nice," you said to yourself as you opened the door to your hotel room and noticed it was much nicer than usual. It was definitely more spacious and the bed was a queen-sized one instead of a single. You took the opportunity of the early night to take a long shower in peace and do an extensive skincare routine before you plopped down on the bed in your pyjamas. You got comfortable under the covers and pulled up your phone to watch some TikToks before you slowly dozed off.

You were awoken when you heard a beep coming from the door as it was being unlocked. Your eyes shot wide open as you realise that someone was getting into your hotel room as you saw the door slowly open.

"What the fuck! Get out!" you yelled towards the door and you quickly turned on the lamp on the nightstand.

"I'm so sorry," you heard the person at the door say apologetically as they quickly closed the door again. Before the door fell into the lock the person stopped in their tracks. "(Y/N)?" a familiar voice uncertainly asked.

"Joost?" you asked in confusion. The door slowly opened again to reveal Joost standing in the door frame looking just as dumbfounded as you. "Wha-?" you furrowed your brows.

"You're in my room," Joost laughed.

"No, I think you're in my room," you insisted.

"I don't think so," Joost said and held up his keycard as if it would explain anything.

"Yeah, how do you think I got inside?" you asked.

"Adam messed up," Joost stated and you nodded as you laughed nervously. "I'm gonna call him," Joost said as he pulled out his phone. You looked down at your phone to see that the time was almost 2 am. You were not so sure that Joost would be able to reach Adam at this time and your suspicion was confirmed when Joost turned back to you. "He's not answering," he said and scratched his head. "The reception desk is also closed already."

You rubbed your eyes sleepily as you watched Joost cluelessly stand by the door, his bags in hand. "I'm sorry I woke you up," he said after a pause. "I'll check if I can crash in Stuntje's bed or something."

"Isn't he gonna be asleep already as well?" you asked.

"Probably," Joost shrugged.

"And his room only has a single bed," you stated.

"Probably," Joost confirmed.

"Honestly, if you don't mind, I don't mind," you said gesturing to the empty side of the bed. "It's a big bed."

"If you don't mind snoring," Joost laughed.

"I'll manage," you assured him.

"Alright," Joost said and put down his bags. "I'll be quick," he said as he gestured to the bathroom.

"Take your time," you smiled.

It was only a few minutes before you could feel the mattress dip on the other side of the bed and Joost slipped in beneath the covers.

"I missed you at the end of the show tonight," Joost said. You turned to face him.

"I know, I'm sorry, I was just very tired," you said. There was about a metre between your faces as you lay there comfortably.

"When I invited you to tour I was under the impression that my advantage would be that I would get more of you," Joost joked.

"Haven't you had enough of me?" you asked.

Joost shook his head. "Never."

"Well, tonight you're getting a whole lot of me," you said and immediately blushed when you realised how Joost could take your words in the wrong way. "I mean-" you started but Joost just laughed. "Nevermind," you said trying to play it cool.

"This is fun," Joost said. "It's like a sleepover."

"Oh, I've got some bad memories from a sleepover," you said and Joost furrowed his brows.

"How come?" he asked concerned.

"Well," you let out a breath. "For the longest time, I was never invited to them. And then in 7th grade, I was finally invited to one and when we played spin the bottle the bottle landed on me and my crush at the time which meant that we had to kiss - which would've been my first kiss by the way - but he refused to kiss me," you shrugged trying to play it cool. "Everyone else did and he pretended as if kissing me would be the worst thing in the world," you could feel your throat getting tighter as you recalled the memory and what it made you feel. Joost grabbed your hand in yours to comfort you.

"What an asshole," he said. "Who wouldn't want to kiss you?"

"Well," you shrugged. "I don't know anybody," you joked. "I think that moment fucked me up, like still to today."

"How come?" Joost inquired as he used his thumb to softly stroke the back of your hand.

"I talked about this in therapy but I think that this experience and a few others led me to believe that nobody could ever be seriously interested in me, that there was never anybody that desired me," you explained looking around the room to avoid Joost's gaze who was looking at you as he listened intently. "Like I don't think I've ever had anyone try to pick me up or like flirt with me or something."

"That's not true," Joost said with a frown on his face which you discovered as you looked at him for the first time again. "People have definitely flirted with you."

"Sorry, but how would you know?" you laughed.

"Because I flirted with you when we first met," Joost said and your heart skipped a beat.

"No, you didn't," you said.

"Yes, I did," Joost insisted. "I made Appie introduce me to you because I thought you were cute." Your heart started beating faster at the revelation.

"What? I swear I was oblivious," you said.

"Well, I just assumed you weren't interested in me in that way," Joost shrugged and you kicked your past self for missing such an opportunity.

"So, you're telling me I fumbled the bag with you?" you asked, your heart beating almost out of your chest. Joost nodded grinning. "This-" you gestured between the two of you, "could've been something entirely different?"

"Yes," Joost said and paused. "Still can be," he added timidly. You held onto Joost's hand like a lifeline, squeezing his hand tightly. "I think you need to breathe," Joost reminded you as he noticed you holding your breath. "Are you alright?" he finally asked after your silence persisted.

"I want you to kiss me," you finally dared to say.

Joost softly grabbed your face and moved closer to you. Your hands found the back of Joost's head and his lips crashed into yours as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Joost was leaning over you, his hand sneaking down to your waist where a sliver of your skin was exposed by your pyjama set. Your lips moved in sync against each other, tasting every bit of the other. Joost softly put your hair behind your ear after you broke the kiss and watched your face fondly.

"Next time you can tell me sooner because I would've done anything you would've told me to," he said and planted a quick peck on your nose.

"Well, I want you to cuddle me," you smiled.

"That can be arranged," Joost said as he spooned you from behind, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blade. "Maybe we should thank Adam for the mix-up."

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Ironically I feel like the worst gore from the latest 2 eps are all stuff that you could also get away with in the original series (vampire victims, the burnt out husk of BMO, Billy Lich); and that the only thing in said eps that's outright "you couldn't do that in the OG show" (simon bleeding from vampireworld PB holding her knife to his throat) seems tame in comparison.

That's an interesting point. The writing and world itself has become a lot more brutal, rather than what sort of violence the characters can perform.

But to a degree I feel like the stuff you list as being possible in the show isn't really. Like, BMO's death felt a lot gorier than his two or three deaths in other episodes? Compared to "BMO" where it's absolutely brutal but it's not really horrifying in the same way with his lil body exploding and... is that a fucking brain? please tell me that's not a brain?

Anyway the reason BMO is such a trigger point for me is because BMO is that little ray of hope in AT, that childish character who survives through everything, and they killed him off in such a meanspirited way. Like, it was for nothing, it was for... a joke??? I think it was supposed to be a joke??? It felt like something from Rick and Morty. It's not something I see CN allowing either, they'd cut the line at BMO powering off, or turning into a clock. I'd have preferred if they just took BMO out of the universe on their adventure (perhaps replacing the clock version). Or, yknow, we only had the clock gag. Not the explosion bit?

And I am so creeped out by that frame of the skeletons. That shit belongs in a horror movie.

But also, the vampire husks are much gorier than what you see in the show. Like you get Billy's corpse but it's still moving and alive and doesn't look very corpse-y. Whereas this one was a scary hollowed husk. I think they'd have asked the team to make them skeletons instead.

I think the previous episode's scene of Simon turning to dust would've been approved without question though.

[hysteria-things]

based off of this

BEREAL

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!nate x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the bereal notification goes off when you and your boyfriend are in an intimate situation.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: PURE FILTH, swearing, unprotected sex, p in v, choking, spanking, hair pulling, dumbification, breeding, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 631

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: DID NOT MEAN TO RELEASE THIS LATE BUT I HAD TO WAIT UNTIL MIDNIGHT SINCE I REACHED THE POST LIMIT AGAIN😭

but anyway matt/chris will be back tomorrow!

nate’s phone blows up with notifications on the nightstand from the DA BOYZ group chat with nick, matt, and chris — but he’s too busy to check it now.

moaning loudly, your hands clutch at the pillow your head is lying on. your knuckles are white, eyes rolling back so far in your head. it’s been forty-five minutes, and you came twice already.

you guys are making a fucking mess, but neither of you cares at this moment. his and your cum combined slap against your thighs, a string of arousal connecting and breaking each time he thrusts into you. you mumble something into the pillows, but it’s so incoherent that it sounds like a moan.

his hand is wrapped tightly around your neck, the other one running up and down the small of your back. he’s so deep inside your cunt that you seriously don’t know how he does it.

drool drips down your chin and onto the sheets below, body becoming rag doll-like when your grip starts to loosen and you start to rock violently to the speed of the way he’s plowing hard into you with no mercy. “there she is; getting fucked stupid on my cock because that’s all you have to fucking live for.”

only groaning in response, you start to see specks of white every time you blink. your pussy is so tight around his dick that it makes it hard for him to move. nate’s so balls deep that it feels like he’s in your throat.

silenced screams go past your lips as the headboard bangs rapidly against his bedroom wall, his tip brushing against your g-spot for the nth time tonight. he moans, grabbing your ass and jiggling it before slapping it. “might have to put my kid in ya.” he hisses, giving it another hit. “i need to breed this pussy full. you let me use it so well.”

catching a glimpse at his lit phone screen, he sees a specific notification pop up:

⚠️time to bereal⚠️

2 min left to capture a bereal to see what your friends are up to!

he smirks, grabbing his phone and opening the app. he points the camera to his face as the time counts down. eyes hooded and lips swollen, a handful of hickeys decorate his neck in red and purple, along with a few scratch marks on his chest.

pressing the white button at the bottom of the screen, he grips the top of your hair to yank your head off the pillow. he quickly turns his phone around, the back camera getting your face into view.

nate waits patiently a few seconds for the picture to render, letting go of your head so he can upload it. this is the first time he’s seen what you look like all night.

strands of hair are disheveled or stuck to your forehead from sweating, eyes crossed with your tongue sticking out like a dog. that poor brain of yours thinking only about nate’s cock fucking the shit out of you.

“i’m cu-mming.” you hiccup, shaking violently as you’re overstimulated from three hard orgasms. the boy behind you licks his lips, stopping deep before spurts of his hot cum fill your womb.

seconds later, reactions come flooding in on his post. some are from peers from high school, while the rest are from the crew.

madi’s eyes are wide, her hand covering her mouth.

nick looks disgusted, his face half out of the frame.

matt’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline, mouth hanging open in complete shock.

last but not least, chris smiles widely at the camera with a big thumbs up.

matthew.sturniolo: oh brother

nicolassturniolo: NATHAN DOE.

user: she’s living the dream, i’m afraid…

madifilipowicz: 😟

user: HE HAS BITCHES???

christophersturniolo: get that pussy bro😝

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @sturniolotriplettoplover @stars4matt @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @catalina-island @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @stellarsturns @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @crazychrisl0v3r @maggieflms @strtuniolo @mutualsafe @riasturns @sturniolowhore @antpile00 @ashley9282828 @stingerayyy2

[cheatsykoopa98]

1 AM ramble but someone just pointed out to me you can see zooble's room in their pin wrapping background

not only do we get to see what their room looks like, we also get an official look of the zooble box, and a mirror for them to look at themself. now I think this might be important. pomni had a scene in ep 1 where she looks at the mirror in disbelief that she looks like that now, and we know zooble changes their parts every day. I think caine did that to "help" zooble with figuring out their gender identity, which maybe or not be helping, considering what I hear of people experiencing gender dysphoria not liking to see themselves in the mirror.

and I do think the mirror is important, we get to see a little bit of the others' bedrooms as well, kaufmo, ragatha and gangle's, and none of them have mirrors from what I can see. maybe caine noticed pomni looking in the mirror and thought pomni might want one in her room just like zooble, not realizing pomni probably hates to look in the mirror and not see herself

also lets look at the other characters bedrooms

ragatha seems to be very tidy (assuming everyone has to clean up their rooms and considering how messy pomni's room is) and not have that much stuff. a box of toys that she might or not play with considering its positioned as a seat for the piano. we dont know if she knows how to play (according to goose she knows the cello, so she could know the piano as well) and having so little fingers in her hand might actually not let her play the piano properly. caine could have just heard she likes music and put a piano in her room. also notice the piano is in the middle of the room taking center stage and we cant see a bed (yet). ragatha has mentioned nobody needs to sleep even though they can. do you think she (tries to) play the piano at night while everyone else assumedly sleeps? there is a song sheet at the piano but I cant read if it has an actual song name written on it.

also she has a shelf full of things that might be of her interest or template things caine put there. like balls of yarn, books, a gloink (how did she have a gloink before ep 1?) and a framed picture, which if it has an actual photo of someone there could open up a lot of theories to who is there. also the gloink being there points to either ragatha having already lived through a gloink adventure and keeping one in her room or keeping one after an adventure where she was hurt by kaufmo and abandoned by pomni. why would she want to keep it if thats the case?

gangle's room is very dark with black walls. we cant see much but I believe she is in a really deeper depression than pomni. I believe to the point where she doesnt have the energy to try to escape, just mask as much as she can before her happy mask is broken again, poor gangle :/

we dont get to see kinger or jax's room, even though I think there is a kinger door in the corridor. maybe kinger is too paranoid to sleep in his room. jax's only shows his door with the void breaking into view. maybe we wont get to see his room until the very end. also I remember there was a theory jax knows where the exit is, but doesnt leave. I dont think its true considering goose said jax deserves to be stuck in the circus, implying he cant leave just like everyone, but since he "has keys to everywhere", what if he has been to the void without caine knowing? pomni never made it through the end but if jax did, maybe what he saw there pushed him to be how he is now. maybe he doesnt see hope in escaping and thats why he turns into such a bad person, he could be a nihilist in that way

anyway sorry for the long post, I just had a bunch of ideas popping up in my head from this little detail I should have noticed when pomni's pin was released

not only do we get to see her room but we also see the blocks spelling CBA, not sure if the B is supposed to count or not but its the second time pomni is associated with C&A, I do believe she was an employee there

[taintedcigs]

eddie and steve live together & steve is completely in love with reader but she’s with eddie.

he comes home one day and shes standing in the kitchen making lunch in the tightest yoga pants and he is literally gonna implode. he can’t handle it anymore 🥺

to the edge — s.h.

a/n: wrote this while listening to deftones and omfg this idea is KILLING ME nonnie!!! did not proof-read pls ignore all mistakes!! im sorry i made this soso pervy but i swear i held myself back lmao!! also idk if this is what u wanted but hope u enjoy bb <33

warnings: perv!steve,18+ only, minors dni!!!!! kinda dark but not rlly ??, male m*sturbation, steve j*rking off to ur picture, degrading nicknames but also praising kind of! just filthy idk what is going thru my head im sick. (wc: 1.5k+)

Steve didn't know how much longer he could handle this.

How much longer could he hide this from you? Or even more importantly, how much longer could he hide this from Eddie?

His breath strained the moment he came home from work, he was already worked up, going through hours and hours of paper work, and now he was beyond frustrated.

Because there you stood with the prettiest smile adorning your face as you greeted him, he couldn't help but let his eyes wander off to your body when you wore the tightest fucking yoga pants that he had ever seen.

Showing all of your curves in the best possible way, the way your breasts juggled as you skipped over to give him a greeting hug.

He felt... so fucking perverted about his thoughts of you, the way his entire body froze when your breasts squeezed over his chest, the way his hands lingered on your waist when all he wanted to do was lower them further, cupping your ass while you squealed, hitting his chest with those pretty giggles escaping your lips.

"Can you help me out?" You asked with those doe-eyes. Steve was sure he would do anything you asked if you gave him that look. Any fucking thing.

He nodded breathlessly, no words able to push past his lips as he watched you in awe.

Eddie was nowhere to be seen, probably still stuck at work and Steve felt horrible. He felt horrible by how he eyed you, he felt horrible by how his mind framed you beneath him, whimpering for more until he pounded into you senselessly.

And he was doing every fucking thing he could to keep it in his pants, it was truly torture. But he seemed to be doing fine. Until you decided to brush past him in an attempt to reach the knife next to him.

It wasn't intentional, you probably thought nothing of it. But the way your curves molded into him, the way your ass grazed against his boner was a whole new territory that Steve wasn't ready for yet.

In his mind, you two might as well have been naked. And he knew he was fucked. Because all Steve could think about now was fucking you from behind, seeing that pretty view of your ass while you melted into him, pretty lips opening slightly to mewl at him for more, his hips relentlessly pounding into you, his veiny cock stretching that perfect little cunt he always dreamed about.

Fucking you senselessly until your mind was filled with nothing but Steve, and his cock. He wanted to have you drooling for him, begging for him to let you cum, begging for more...

Shit.

Steve looked down at the bulge in his pants, it was very fucking visible as his cock strained against his zipper, even the wet patch from his pre-cum was starting to form and he knew if he didn't do something about it he was going to explode.

"I—I'm just so... tired." He fake yawned, and you looked up at him.

"Oh! It's okay, I'll just finish up here, there isn't much left anyway." You gave him a small smile.

"You... uh— you sure?" He asked, hand perfectly placed to cover up his boner.

"Yes, yes... I'll let you know when the dinner is ready, Stevie." You giggled, waving him off.

Stevie.

He didn't even know how he made it to his bedroom, heaving a breath of relief as soon as he locked the door.

Stevie. He was sure you were trying to fucking kill him.

Steve was quick to take off his pants, almost juggling over them by how fast he was being.

Jesus fucking Christ

He shouldn't do this, he can't fucking do this.

He tried to reason, but the memories of you flashed through his mind faster than he could comprehend, the way those tight yoga pants framed your curves in the best way possible, the way you licked your lips as you concentrated on cutting those damn vegetables.

He could turn every memory of you into something sexual, he could picture those lips wrapped around his throbbing cock, your delicate tongue lapping up his pre-cum as your mouth struggled to take all of his length, and you stared up at him with those doe eyes.

Fuckfuckfuck.

He couldn't hold it off as he climbed into bed, trying his best to stifle his grunts when he wrenched his cock from his boxers. His cock pulsed harder as he swiped his thumb along the tip, hissing as he spread the bead of pre-cum that collected at his pink tip.

A low groan rose in his throat, as he closed his eyes. Shaky hands stroking up his lengthy cock. So slowly.

And all he can imagine was you.

He wanted you so badly that it ached, his cock in his grip was almost hot to touch, pulsating with need.

He wanted— no, he needed you. He needed you trembling under him, eager to fill all of your holes, he wanted you pleading for him, he wanted to sheath himself inside of you, as he told you how much he loved you.

He wanted to fill you to the brim, not stopping until he made sure that you were stuffed with his cum, not stopping until he made sure he painted your velvety walls white.

He fisted his cock feverishly at his thoughts, so roughly that his knuckles turned white. But he didn't care, pictures of you etched into his brain were enough to get him over the edge.

Steve was sure he had never felt this way before, he felt out of his mind, hooked on you. You were like a drug he couldn't get enough of, and it was killing him.

He tried to keep his moans stifled—but it was so hard when his dirty mind was filled with X-rated images of you.

You with your mouth hung open, tongue sticking out as you begged to taste his cum, to feel his load shooting down your throat.

"Fuck—fucking slut." He let out before he could stop himself. Tugging harder at his abused cock. "Such—such a pretty baby for me, yea?" He praised envisioning you.

He didn't hesitate to grab his bedside picture when he felt himself closer to release. He examined the picture carefully, curses slipping past his lips. There you stood next to him, and there was Eddie.

His veins throbbed with rage at the sight of him, he knew it was wrong, so fucking wrong. But every inch of him resented Eddie for getting to have you.

His thumb was quick to cover Eddie's face, he gripped harder on the picture as he focused on you.

God, did you look pretty.

Your hands were wrapped around his waist as you leaned toward him, you looked so fucking happy.

You wore the smallest fucking skirt, and your tits were pressed up against your tiny top, and it was driving Steve crazy.

He stroked his cock harder and harder as he imagined you naked, squirming under him. "Please, Stevie." You mewled, the nickname clinging to his mind.

"Cum inside of me, Stevie. Please, baby... please—need your cum." He imagined you whimpering, batting your lashes at him as tears threatened to spill from those innocent eyes.

And Steve reveled in the thought, of having you begging for his cum, his desire to get you full of him, the visual of his cum leaking out of your cunt pulled a guttural groan out of him.

"Please, Stevie, wanna be filled with your load."

He tugged at his cock harder, the thought of you begging for him, the thought of you begging to be his flooded his mind. "'M gonna make you mine, honey." He promised.

"Shit—gonna fuck my load into you, yeah, baby?"

"Gonna make you my personal fuckin' cock sleeve." He cursed as he stroked harder, gripping the picture in his hand.

"Make you my fuckin' cum dump." He groaned, the desire to have you jolted every inch of him.

"'M yours, Stevie." He envisioned you mewling for him.

And that thought finally sent him over the edge, he spurted his warm cum all over the picture in his hand. Most of it spilling on your frame as he let out loud groans, not even able to hide or stifle them anymore.

He grunted as the last of his load dripped from his softened tip onto your lips and all over your face on the picture. He couldn't help the satisfied smile on his face as he admired it.

You looked so fucking gorgeous with his cum spurted all over your pretty little face.

"Stevie!" You called out for his name and Steve froze immediately.

He panicked and covered himself up as soon as you knocked on the door.

Did you fucking hear him?

Did you know about his disgusting thoughts?

"Y—yeah?" He replied, voice filled with shame.

Thankfully, you didn't open the door as you just yelled. "Dinner is ready!" He heaved a sigh of relief quickly.

You were going to be the death of him.

[bodydoublegame]

hello! it's amy! if you follow my personal account, you'd already know what this is. body double is a side project that i do for fun inbetween infamous, just for when i need to refresh my brain! i decided to make a blog for it so i don't flood my personal account with this game lol.

This game is a side project that I do when I need inspiration for Infamous. That means development on it will be sloooow. Infamous is my main priority right now!

Body Double is a an interactive story that takes place in a cyberpunk inspired world where top secret operatives of an elusive Cypress Industries have the unique ability to jump bodies.

Agent Sawyer is the best Agent in the business, tasked with protecting Cypress Industries and all of its assets.

Until three weeks ago.

Framed for the president's murder and in a last-ditch effort to save their ass, they switch bodies with our regular, ordinary IT-tech MC...who is now walking in the body of a suspect the entire city is looking for. Stuck in a citywide manhunt, MC is now on the run with a pesky Agent who refuses to tell them where their body is. To make matters worse, Agent Sawyer's subconcious is stuck in their head, speaking to them like a pest MC can't shake off.

Wonderful.

With a help of a host of characters from Sawyer's past and MC's present, MC will have to throw themself in a conspiracy to clear Sawyer's name and get back to normal. Relatively. No pressure.

The usual IF stuff: customize your mc from personality to appearance. Unsurprisingly from me, BODY DOUBLE is a character driven story with a focus on relationship dynamics, angst and drama...but this time with action.

Mold Sawyer in the prologue and be stuck with them in your head for the rest of the story. Are they humorous? Stoic? Vulgar? Emotional? Arrogant? You decide.

Romance characters like Sawyer's ex (messy) or the human-mech hybrid trying to kill you (messy) or your measly IT tech friend who has no idea what the hell is going on but they're a trooper. Or an AI. Your call.

Try to uncover a conspiracy and solve a murder in a cyberpunk setting.

Don't die?

SAWYER [RO][customizable]: the agent accused of murder. The wires get crossed when they switch bodies with you, and somehow you have their subconcious in your head. They refuse to switch back until you help clear their name even though you're in their body, which means people are after you now. Asshole move, really.

ROACH: Sawyer's twin brother and perpetual hermit. As a hacker, he has eyes all over the city. He also misses his sibling, so he's determined to see it through.

AGENT BECK [f or m] [RO]: A cool and intimidating fellow Agent of Cypress Industries...and Sawyer's ex partner. Sawyer dumped them, broke their heart, and since then, ghosted them (as one does.) With that said, Beck is determined to help you. And them. Just make sure to try to ignore the longing looks they send your way. It's not towards you, of course.

CAI [RO] [f, m or nb models] : Cypress AI or CAI is Sawyer's former field partner. Honest, cold and emotionless, you can't believe CAI is actually helping you. It must be going against their every makeup to go against Cypress, but having someone like them on your side is beneficial, at least.

HAWKE [m][RO]: the mech-human hybrid tasked with hunting you down. Well, hunting Sawyer down. Their one mission is to see you (Sawyer) dead, which poses a problem so as long as you're in this body. So there's that.

SOLANA [f][RO]: the elusive club owner...and the last person to see the president alive. You can't tell if Solana is an ally or an enemy, but you do know the one thing that drives her is power. Good to keep an eye on her, anyway.

AXL [nb] [RO]: the wealthy child of the now dead president and new heir of Cypress Industries. They hate your (Sawyer's) guts. They have hired all the best operatives and assassins to take you (Sawyer) down, and will stop and nothing to get their justice. If only you could convince them otherwise...

MAV [f or m] [RO]: your best friend and fellow IT employee. A trooper, who decides to be your sidekick on this weird...journey. No biggie. Make sure they don't die.

As usual, BD is 18+ for adult themes, explicit language, suggestive situations, violence and more! <3

[callingmelili]

A deal.

So I am currently in a virtual class and I should probably be paying attention. I'm sure my teacher would not be impressed by me writing this when I'm supposed to be taking notes, but of course this would be the moment for the horny muse to come back. I may have a second part thought out too.

My set up is the usual, full-body mirror, one of those light rings I used to make fun of other girls from having, mat on the floor in case the gif he sends requires me to kneel. Mark's contact winks at me from the messaging app on my phone, online and writing. His messages always come between seven and ten pm, never at the same time, the bastard has been taking up this window of time every Friday for the last three months.

This time around, the message comes early.

It's only a gif, but it's the worst one so far. A girl kneeling on the floor in knee socks, hair in pigtails , tits bouncing inside a lace bralette as she bounces on a dildo stuck to the floor. A text comes in right after. 'You have 20 minutes, Mia.'

I sigh and head for my dresser, this is the first time one of Mark's gifs goes that far. But do i have another choice? I don't. He is not my boyfriend, he is not a man I can say not to, even if he didn't have a bunch of humiliating videos of me --if he made them public, he'd be shooting himself in the foot anyways, I have proof that he's the only person I've sent them to-- he has something worse… for now.

He and I have a deal. No, really. We do.

Honestly, when he first caught me cheating on a test, I thought I was done for. He was my advisor at the moment, able to report me without breaking a sweat. I never have been a particularly good student and I would have been done for.

I didn't make it this far into graduate school without being decently stubborn, though and I grasped at the one straw still within my reach. I would laugh at how cliche it is if it wasn't my life right now.

Obviously I told him to ask anything of me. I had seen how he looked at me during our one-on-one thesis, I was fully expecting to be asked to get on my knees and blow him, I was also more than prepared to do it if it spared me expulsion.

What he asked for was… a step further.

But I really had no other choice. It was either do this until the end of the semester or face being exposed and expulsed.  So far he has only asked me to emulate the gifs, nitpicking only rarely. I had to do a couple repeat performances  of the fourth gift he sent me of a blonde girl deepthroating a dildo. He kept saying it was not 'far enough' and my face was not 'red enough', pouting, I scroll up to glare at the finished product of that particular exchange. My eyes are watering and my cheeks are flaming red. Brown hair frames my face as I furiously work the dildo in and out of my mouth. It takes me a while to look away.

"I better get this over with," I say to no one in particular before turning up the light and leaving the camera on standby.

Sighing, I get my hair into the pigtails first before getting the dildo with the suction cup out from it's usual place in a box under my underwear. I have no bralette's that look just like the girl's so I end up wearing the top of a swimsuit instead. The socks I do have a pair of similar ones, only in baby blue rather than pink. Mark usually doesn’t mind small changes due to unavailability of certain items in my apartment, and anyways it shows about the same amount of skin.

"And now as for the pose…" The mat has to go so the dildo can stick to the floor and I can feel the skin of my knees protest as soon as I lower myself over it. The silicone meets slick, oversensitive flesh and I am torn between feeling shame or being relieved that I don't have to warm myself up for it.  My thighs are already shaking, skin prickling at the cold of the floor and how a hear seems to have settled deep within my pelvis.

As if on cue, my phone buzzes with a message, then another and another.

'5 minutes left, Mia.'

'Tic, toc.'

Drawing in a shaky breath I reach forward and turn the camera on. It's set up to stream only to him. Sometimes he will return the favor, I found it gross at first but it's even stranger to do all these things while only hearing his voice coming from my computer speakers. "You could be trying more with the top." He laughs, speak of the devil. Tonight he wants to keep his face hidden it seems, it doesn’t show up in the computer screen.

"Just why would you think I would have that sort of underwear?" I hiss.

I can imagine him shrugging. "You're the type that's usually prepared? Anyhow, I don't like it, just take it off."

"But--"

"Take it off, you're bare-cunted already. What's the damage with me seeing your nipples?"

My thighs shake. "Fine." The bra is the tie-up kind, two swift pulls and it's falling off my tits, leaving my nipples to stand in response to the cold air in the room. "Damn, you could do a better job pretending you don't like this. I can see how wet your cunt is from here."

I roll my eyes at the camera. "I like to be prepared, as you said." I lick my lips, glancing at the mirror. "Lets just get this over with."

"Aye," he laughs, "Well, first off, sit down baby. Aren't your knees getting tired?"

Of course, he means sit down on the dildo I am hovering over. I do so, slowly. Wet as I am, the intrusion stretches me beyond what I'm prepared for, making the descent a little shaky and making me moan. "That's a nice face," mark comments.

"Fuck-- Fuck you." I say, glaring at the camera.

"Of course you wish it was me baby." I can imagine him grinning. "Alas, you're gonna have to do the work there. I believe the girl on the gif has her legs spread out wider."  I shiver, but do as told. I can feel the tip of the dildo pressing up into my cervix.  "No, wider." I whine. "Wait, no, that's too wide, go back."

The inside of my thighs is wet already, moving on the dildo proves easier than it should. "Good?" I ask, between forced breaths.

"Hmm, good. But stick your ass out more." I do, and the tip of the dildo brushes something that makes me lose my balance and cry out. "Ha! Well, that isn't quite it but do stay there." He laughs, again. "Now, start bouncing."

If I could I'd sag with relief, but all I can do is bounce and hope he's satisfied soon.

Five minutes later I can't believe how wrong I was. "Nope, stop!" He calls, like he's directing a porno and I guess he is. I can't help the protesting jerk of my hips when he does. "Get off on this later, will you?" He huffs. "Cross your eyes more, Mia, and stay still for a second." Time stretches, silent for far more than a second. "Ok, now."

It's the second time he does it, and there are a third and a fourth. I'm not dripping on only the dildo now, but also the floor. He doesn't care, I'm sure enough now that he's somehow learned to see when I'm close and he always stops me at that point before pleasure becomes pure heat. "Isn't that enough?" I pant after the latest interruption.

"No, again. Push your chest out, show the girls off, will you?" His voice is lower now than it ever is in class and I'm so tired by now, knees aching and core throbbing that I just mindlessly obey, eyes crossing, hips slamming down  once, twice, three times. This time he doesn’t stop talking, but none of his words urge me to stop or slow down this time. Rather, Mike encourages me. I can't say he compliments me but it's all the same to my foggy mind. "That's it Mia. That's it little whore. The tongue is a nice detail but you're going to have to repeat this performance just for that." He laughs. "No, don't stop on my account, you're too far gone. I thought you weren't getting off on this? My little, pathetic Mia, don't think I haven't noticed just how you get all the other times." It's only his voice filling the room, only his voice and the sound of my ass slapping into the floor, losing rhythm as I come closer and closer, slumping forward and losing form. I know he'll make me repeat it now, I don't care, I just want to cum. "That's right, that's all you want isn't it? Not even to be free from our little deal, you'd sell yourself out for an orgasm, wouldn't you? Well go ahead."

I just want to cum, and I do.

Afterwards, I'm slumped forward, dildo still halfway inside me as I catch my breath. That's when I hear the tell-tale sound of the lock on the front door, and then a familiar voice, coming from both the living room and my computer. "By the way Mia I forgot to tell you I'd be dropping by to drop some material for your thesis off." Mark laughs, it echoes off the walls. "I also wanted to talk about a couple of things. Stay right where you are and maybe I'll be nice and give you a passing grade on this little recreation of ours, even though you didn't get it quite right."

[alchemistc]

Couched In Metaphor

"You want a beer man?"

Eddie tilts a look over his shoulder, already halfway through the doorway to his kitchen, and Tommy shoots a glance at his watch. "Mmm, no can do. I'm meeting Evan in a bit."

"Is this my cue to act a fool for your attention?"

There's a moment where Tommy wants to double down on defense for Evan, but it's a joke, it's just a joke and if Evan were right next to him he'd definitely enjoy the gentle ribbing. He tries not to examine the immediate desire to defend him too closely. Too much, too soon, it's barely been a few months.

"And he's got jokes, ladies and gentlemen."

Eddie grins: wide, amused. It's what he came for - the chance to get Eddie out of his own head for a few hours. "You guys doing anything special?"

"We're on a mission to pick out a new couch, apparently."

When Eddie stills, Tommy swears it's like he's just been frozen in place; the beer in his hand raised halfway to his mouth, lips pursed, brows raised, a cartoon character stuck in time. He plays it off a moment later, hastily lowering the bottle, nodding. "Don't let him bring a clipboard."

It's Tommy's turn to wrinkle his brow.

"No good can come when that man's got a prioritized list, Tommy, I'm serious."

"So we're ignoring the fact that there's apparently something about tagging along for furniture shopping that just made you freeze frame?"

Eddie tilts his head, squints his eyes, takes a drag off his beer. "That's a Buck and Tommy conversation, not an Eddie and Tommy conversation. You wanna know more about the clipboard, though, I've got about thirty horror stories."

---

"I feel like maybe I've been bamboozled," Tommy says, three furniture stores in. The couch Evan is currently testing is -- just like every other couch they've looked at so far.

"None of them have been right."

He's got that look in his eyes like he's been knocking on doors in a structure fire for too long.

"Are we worried about aesthetics, here, or comfort, or whether or not they fit the space? Eddie warned me about Clipboard Buck but maybe you should pull up your notes app and make a pro con list."

Evan flushes. Darts a glance down at his feet, and his thumbs dig into the seams of his hoodie pocket. "I just thought I'd walk in and find what I was looking for. Sort of thought it'd just - call to me, or something."

"It's a couch Evan, not a lifetime commitment."

And Evan flushes deeper, cheeks pinking, lips twisting. Tommy, who's been hovering nearby while Evan tests out what feels like half a million identical couches, feels himself sigh, bending and twisting to settle next to him, one hand reaching out to squeeze at Evan's knee.

"So it seems like maybe there's a story here I'm not aware of."

It sort of tumbles out of Evan, then, a rush of half apologies and stumbling explanations, and Tommy thinks of the snatches of conversations they've had about their past partners, their admittedly not great parents.

"And - you know, I just thought. I mean. I figured." He gestures, vaguely, and then more pointedly, a glance from beneath his lashes to catch Tommy's gaze as he waggles a finger between the two of them.

Oh.

Tommy waits a beat. Sometimes it's better to let Evan work it out in his own head for a second.

Also, he's - sort of reeling, a bit. Too much, too soon, he'd thought, but here he was, unaware of the significance of being asked on this little errand until he suddenly wasn't, and -

"Sorry. That's - it's not like - anyway, I've clearly put way too much weight into the couch thing, you're right, it's just a couch."

He's been ignoring the urge to curl his fingers around Evan's for the better part of two hours, now. He doesn't question it, usually, but in this specific scenario it's felt too couple-y, too forward, too much like begging a sales associate to make some assumptions Evan wasn't prepared to deal with.

Evan's still twisting his hands together inside the pocket of his jacket, and Tommy makes the snap decision before he can talk himself out of it - two fingers tucking into the pocket, pressing into the meat of Evan's palm, pressing up and pulling without any real force, and it's like Evan deflates, a bit, hand immediately following the soft drag out of the fabric to curl four fingers around Tommy's palm.

"It doesn't have to be just a couch."

---

They have their first fight, navigating the stairwell up to Evan's floor, and situate it in the room in stony silence. Tommy considers leaving, once it's exactly as Evan wants it. He's good at that - jumping ship at the first sign of trouble, and he has to swallow the urge down while Evan glares a hole into the armrest.

He's just opening his mouth to speak when Evan's voice drifts over to him, quieter than he'd expected. "I really don't want it to just be a couch."

And Tommy's never -

He's dated plenty of people - cared for less, and loved very few, but he's never steeped shit in metaphor and he's also never gone from "attracted to the straight guy again" to "this inanimate object is a symbol of our relationship" in -- ever.

"Evan."

There's a flatness to his voice that only ever comes out when he's truly upset, and he hates it, hates that he can just shut it all off. He makes a conscious effort, unfurls the fists shoved into his pants pockets. Tries again.

"We're hiring someone if you ever wanna move that damn thing again."

Evan's smile splits across his face like the sun breaking over the horizon.

---

Christopher eyes the couch with suspicion.

"It's a lot bigger than your old ones," he finally manages, with a shifty glance between the two of them, and Tommy has to remind himself that Evan had gone down a rabbit hole of research trying to find the best way to clean leather once they'd finally gotten over themselves and proceeded with the making up part of their argument.

Eddie clocks the look running across his face, and makes a face at Evan. Evan tucks his tongue into his cheek, but he can't quite hide his grin, and Tommy tries not to imagine the next time they'll need to go furniture shopping.

---

"Can I admit something?" Evan asks, fingers shifting across the expanse of Tommy's chest, head tucked neatly beneath his chin.

Tommy hums, still half asleep, trying to ignore the crick in his neck and the wide expanse of his lower back that keeps sinking into the crack between the cushions.

Evan presses his lips lazily into the side of Tommy's neck. "I actually hate this couch. It's the worst."

Tommy laughs, and laughs, and laughs some more when Evan presses up on his elbow to pout straight into his face.

Tommy can't help but curl a palm around his jaw, ring and middle finger sliding up to cup his cheek, reaching for the marks at his brow. "Can we skip the torture of another horrendous shopping trip and just toss this one to the curb when I ask you to move in with me?"

He only stills for half a moment, eyes already bright and wide and happy before he nods. "When?" he repeats, all puppy enthusiasm as he buries his face back in Tommy's neck.

"Keep it to yourself, though, I haven't decided how I'm gonna ask. Wouldn't want to ruin the surprise."

Evan hums, fingers drifting down his arm, now - it's a familiar, teasing path that always drives Tommy a little wild, and - yep, they skate over his wrist, dancing right along the length of his fingers and down across his hip, little finger spreading wide towards his inseam.

---

Evan breaks his couch the first night all his things have been unpacked.

He makes a little pleased hum, low in his throat, when Tommy pulls up the same site he'd used to buy it, adds three to his cart, and passes the laptop off to Evan for opinions. Curls a warm hand around the back of Tommy's neck, presses his lips to the crown of Tommy's head. Tommy takes a moment to enjoy the feel of it.

"Pick one," he manages through gritted teeth when Evan nips at his earlobe.

"It's just a couch, babe, whichever one you want."

[sseastar]

✶ tingly feeling ; lee heeseung.

info. fluff ; lee heeseung x gn!reader warnings. physical touch / cuddling. listen to. it takes two by fiji blue.

[✧] “see, this is nice, isn’t it?” a muffled voice says against the skin of your neck. it’s funny how much you’ve become used to the feeling of his lips grazing over your skin. you could barely look at him early into your relationship and you think you’ve come a long way. especially since your boyfriend could have anyone in the palm of his hand just by smiling. or those damn eyes.

“i suppose,” you tease, taking your hand to run your fingers through the locks of your boyfriend’s hair, his head tucked at the crook of your neck and his body half draped over yours. his arms tighten around your torso as he presses a soft kiss on a spot on your neck, and you giggle. a little under a year ago, you would’ve slapped yourself for giggling, reprimanding yourself for letting a man make you giggle. but lee heeseung always had that effect on people anyway, and you were no different.

well, except for the fact that you were the one he chose to love. and frankly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“what do you mean you suppose? i know you’re comfortable right now,” heeseung lifts his head from where it rests against your neck and shoulder, lightly tapping his forehead onto your cheek. you only laugh, tightening your hold around the boy that lays halfway on top of you, patting both of your hands against his back and shoulder and pressing a kiss onto the top of his head.

against the sound of your oscillating towering fan in the corner, you can hear the morning birds chirping outside the window you decided to leave open the night before in hopes to cool down the stuffy summer air. the chirping was what woke heeseung up from his slumber next to you as you finished up one of your assignments before turning it in. as soon as he watched you click the bright blue ‘submit’ button and the webpage celebrated with animated confetti, he was shutting your laptop and forcing you back down onto the pillow. ‘this is your punishment for not letting me wake up in your arms.’ you only rolled your eyes at him, but allowed him to take up his rightful place over your body.

“no, yeah, you’re right, i’m enjoying this because you’re being a big baby right now.”

“hey!” he huffs, and his grip on you loosens as he props himself up to interrogate you. you don’t think you it’s possible to not get flustered by the way he hovers over your frame. even if he’s whining right now. so, you yank on his shirt again and he gives in, returning to the position he had been in. “what do you mean ‘big baby?”

“i’m saying you need to be cuddled as much as i do and that i’m glad i’m the only one that gets to see your clingy, cute side under your whole…husband material…apparatus.”

“oh, you think i’m husband material?” heeseung raises his head from your chest again to quirk an eyebrow at you and you take your hand to push his face back down to its original spot.

“hee, you already know i do, you dork,” you pout, and he only laughs against your neck, only for you to join him when you realize how content you are right now. content in this moment, in this place, in his arms.

no matter how asleep your leg is.

⌕. author’s note ; ayo guess who's back! it's been so long sinc i last posted, and this is so so short but i currently am in finals week and just need a break so i wanted to post something here! i'm still very much working on my wips rn but i keep losing motivation and getting inspo at the worst times (like i said i have finals this and next week) so thanks everyone for the patience! i'm obviously not a consistent writer just because my personal life doesn't allow for it, but posting stuff every once in a while is just something i want to continue to do because i don't want my writing to just be stuck in my google drive! anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this very very short thing that i ended up posting as a blurb because i couldn't find a good wip to put it into lol <3

⌕. taglist ; @soobin-chois @koishua @iwonzzi @enhacolor @chrysbibi @acaiasahi

[nyctophiliq]

— 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 (i’m never alone)

— “i can’t sleep no more, in my head we belong”

SYNOPSIS — didn’t your parents tell you to never leave the doors or windows open? PAIRINGS — home invader! ellie williams x f!reader NOTES — DARK CONTENT, dub-con, masochist reader , sadist ellie, pre-established relationship, violence, blood, knives, threats, threats with a knife, injuries, making out, blood tasting, reader is tied and knocked out, ellie eats reader out,

“YOU NEVER LOCK YOUR WINDOWS, PRETTY GIRL.”

it was rather late into the night when you walked down the stairs, shivering even in your thickest zip-up hoodie, but maybe it was the shorts you were wearing that still let the cool air travel across your body and form goosebumps of cold along your skin. you hurried down to look around, hugging yourself as you did so, sliding from room to room in your white socks as you scouted for the open window.

you were confused, why was a window open anyway? last time you checked you closed all of them before going up, even turning the little lock shut that was inside. you were convinced you shut all of them, but to your surprise the kitchen one, above the sink was wide open, letting the night’s freezing wind turn the house into an ice hut. 

the dim lights weren’t giving you too much of a helping hand, not even that small light above the counter. you don’t notice the presence lurking in the shadows while you sigh, jumping up and down on your tip toes, trying to reach the window and pull the frame shut. or how the shadowy presence seems to watch your every move, calculating, making sure to make itself known at just the right time.

you do notice it, though, when you find yourself being pushed down onto the floor, heavy combat boots crushing your ribs as the figure leans down. your eyes widen, panicked, as you try to escape from the stranger’s grasp but it’s too strong and you are stuck in place. they are much stronger than you are. it shakes its head, ruffling its short hair before whispering something inaudible, and its hand collides with your face, knocking you cold only in one hit.

when you came to, the first thing you feel is the tingling feeling running up and down your bare thigh, circling your kneecap before taking a quick downfall, following the curve of your calf before climbing back up to your thigh, now grazing the plush part. the cold objects start to sink into your skin, poking you multiple times like it was trying to slowly drain you from blood, and your hazy vision and the bright spots suddenly clear and you see her.

“e-ellie, what are you doing? let m-me go!” you are quick to panic when you see the knife in her hand alongside all your other knives neatly placed on the counter, going from smallest to largest. you wriggle in your place, struggling against the ropes that were wrapped around your wrists and ankles, binding you into a chair.

“fucking stop wriggling around you stupid bitch.” she grits her teeth before sinking the knife into your thigh. you let out a scream, your head falling back while your knuckles turn white as they grip the armrest of the chair. blood messily drools from the wound as ellie leans closer to you, inhaling your scent, moving the knife side to side in your wound before biting down on the shell of your ear. “now you have something to whine and move around for ungrateful bitch.”

“i’m sorry, i’m s-sorry…” you cry, shaking your head and clutching your eyes as you bask in the heat of your body because of the pain. it’s suffocating, your head spinning alongside the room as you take a glance at the knife in you and another fit of whines leaves you.

ellie scoffs at the pathetic little whines and sobs you are letting out, the sight of your blood trickling and your cries are not enough. so she drops to her knees, on the left then the right slowly, pulling the knife out of your leg and tossing it behind the chair, her other hand already looking for a new one to hold in her grasp.

you are too scared to say anything now, just muffled sounds of distress leave you as she tries to part your knees, trying to fit both her head, hand, and the knife between your thighs. “i own you and i’m gonna make sure you can never pretend otherwise, m’kay?” ellie murmurs when she finally lines up with the plush of your thigh, without hesitation starting to engrave her name into your name. she is messy, definitely making a lot more cuts of her name than necessary and it makes you wanna vomit when you figure out she is adding a little bloody heart onto the ‘i’ in her name.

this has to be a maniac’s hopes and dreams, the way she is so focused on cutting her name into you, her mouth agape and her tongue out as if she is ready to lick away the blood that gets in her way to complete her signature on you. you swallow thickly, her head between your legs… your mind has to be sick to be turned on right now at the sight in front of you, watching her as she uses you to her psycho fantasies. with each cut, be it smaller or larger, you can feel your heat trickling and you don’t even have panties on… how embarrassing this is?

“what do we have here, huh?” it’s barely visible, but it’s there, a small wet patch of your shorts. you thought it would take her a little more time to notice, or not even notice it at all, but mostly you believed you could hold it back just until she stops groping and cutting your thighs. 

ellie takes one last glance at the inside of your thigh, moving her thumb over the red skin before standing up. “you’re just as sick as i am.” she laughs through her teeth while she takes your chin in her grip. ellie’s blown pupils gape at your erratically moving ones, her heavy breathing stealing the oxygen away from you.

lips trembling, thighs shaking as she drags the tip of the knife up your neck, dragging it along your jawline before tapping it against your lips a few times. “open up and stuck your tongue out for me bitch.” her eyes are no longer watching your eyes, rather are fixed on the knife as she slowly pushes it into your mouth.

“what did i just say?” she screams into your face, her free hand coming up to slap you before roughly holding your head in place by pulling your hair into a tight fist. she didn’t think you would dare try anything funny, to ruin your alone time with her the one she is gifting you. she is disappointed, she knew she had to be careful when it came to you but she didn’t think she would have to do this to get you to agree. “do as i say now and open your mouth you cunt.”

another heavy gulp goes down your throat, huffing as you part your lips wide and stick your tongue out for her. ellie carefully places the knife onto your tongue, her face lighting up as she runs it across, slicing it here and there. “this has to be the sluttiest thing you have ever done, right?” ellie asks with a wide grin, for a second taking her eyes off of the blade that leaving small cuts that leave your blood on the knife.

“mouth wide open, ready to do anything i ask because you are so excited to be this scared.” she looks high and sleepy at the same time as she struggles to hold her head upright, continuously licking her lips as her own mouth is ajar. ellie pulls the knife away from

she doesn’t even flinch as she cut her own tongue, slowly licking the bloody knife clean. she maintains eye contact, unblinkingly staring at your teary eyes as she doesn’t let a drip of blood go to waste. it feels like hours as she toys with herself before throwing the blade away, 

“i didn’t mean it when i called you those rude names, ‘kay?” she holds your cheeks softly, looking for your gaze as she strokes the bone under your eye with her thumb. she is at her peak, watching your teary eyes, feeling your hot skin and smelling your blood, she is going into overdrive. “i love you, mhm. i do, so much so.” she sounded like she really did mean it as she said it to you and only you, as if she doesn’t see you for anything else than a person to love. but it’s not true, she is fooling you and you are falling for every sick word of hers.

and then she slots her mouth over yours in an unexpected kiss that sends fire racing through ellie’s veins. for a while you are just a shocked, passive recipient, parting your mouth when ellie probes at the seem of your lips with an angry, insistent tongue, tiling your head back as she forces herself on you. but then she threads a hand through your hair, gently running her fingers across your scalp and you can’t help but let her kiss you, clashing her teeth against yours. the sounds you made were nice, they were so cute. pretty, soft little noises, not quite sighs and not quite grunts, kind of somewhere in between. you are tasting each other’s metallic blood mixed with harsh spit globs from ellie and drool from you.

it’s sloppy, the mess covering both of your chins and while you wince here and there when ellie’s tongue catches onto one of the cuts on your tongue, she seems to be lost in the sensation.

“i’m gonna undo these now okay? promise me you won’t run.” ellie asks and you can’t say no to her, mostly because of the knife she is reaching for and slipping it under the rope. you nod your head, a little too enthusiastically which makes ellie chuckle. “good girl....” she trails off, her eyes now fixed on the knots around your wrists, with one clean cut at your hands are free and as you rub the red marks of your hand she frees your ankles too.

ellie helps you up, giggling like a little kid but she really is a maniac as she drags you out of the kitchen and into the living room. “you’d be in so much trouble right now if it wasn’t me who snuck in.” she hoots into your ear, tugging you along on her side onto the couch. she manhandles you, tossing you around and positioning you as she pleased.

“but lucky it was me, yeah? i saved you.” ellie prouds herself as she gets on top of you, moving some hair out of your face as she tries to take you in. you were sweaty, glowing as your chest heaved, the red stamp of her hand now visible on your cheek. “i deserve a reward for it.” you agree, nodding as you reach out her belt and try to undo it with your weak fingers.

“no, not me. i am fucking you with my tongue, pretty girl.” she says, pushing your hands away from her pants before gripping your shorts and tearing them away from around your waist and hips.

she spanks you, spreading your slick all over your quivering cunt, pinching your puffy clit, and grinning stupidly when a loud moan leaves your throat. without a word or a smart comment about you not wearing any panties, she moved her face in front of your sloppy entrance. she inhaled the intoxicating smell of your arousal, caressing your the top of your thighs before latching her mouth on your bundle of nerves.

ellie doesn’t give you too much, prodding you, alternating between kisses and kitten licks before sucking harshly on your bundle of nerves. your legs twitch, trying to close around her face but her hands work quicker than you can, feeling up the already drying blood of her name carved into your skin, the pain of her grip keeping you from closing them.

“such a pretty pussy for me to devour.” as soon as she finishes speaking, her mouth is back on you, her tongue resting firmly against your aching clit before pushing her tongue into your sopping hole. ellie’s hot tongue flattening against your warm walls, peering up at you through her lashes. you are lovely, hot, and virtually stupid with need and as presses her in further the more of you drip out. you are so so sweet, the salty blood dripping from her tongue mixing in with your hot arousal.

if she wasn’t fucking into you she would be smirking. you were just so cute squirming against her wet tongue, hands undecidedly tugging at the edge of your shirt, trying to figure out whether to push her away or pull her closer. your cries make her even more excited, lapping your cum up as fast as she could, her hands slipping up to your hips to give her a better angle to eat you whole.

there is no way you could be having any thoughts now, the way you mindlessly roll your hips against her face as her tongue fucks you to your climax. high pitched hums escape you as you close your eyes, your breathing frantic as you tighten around her tongue and without even being able to understand or warn her, you come on ellie’s lips.

“you taste so good, almost as good as your blood.”

[pervertedreams]

— on your way home from nancy’s house you get caught in the rain, eddie’s house is a way closer walk. your bestie is a perv, fortunately you don’t mind. ( afab!reader, fem!reader, slight perv!eddie, ig perv!reader, thigh riding, kissing, creampie, fingering, cum eating, riding) 18+

the knock on his door physically feels brutal, your skin is soaked and weak and the clothes clinging to your body is weighing you down heavy. it’s feels like forever when he finally answers the door. and just as you expected as you were walking up the steps, he was gawking, almost automatically. eyeing you up and down like an animal to his prey, you’re pretty sure he didn’t even notice he was doing it. it’s like a natural reaction with him and his perversions.

it’s the beginning of spring which can always be super switchy, all day it had been sunny, actually quite warm if you’re being honest. you thought shorts and a t-shirt was you best bet. it was at first but when it came pouring down on your walk back home, you were sadly mistaken. but eddie on the other hand was having a blast.

the way your sopping wet clothes stuck to you like glue, wrinkles clinging tightly against your skin, exposing every curve you had. even ones he hadn’t noticed before. your shirt was so wet it had become see-through, and the wind that had been blowing for the past hour didn’t help your case. chest sitting pretty, nipples perky, he could even see your areola. and you shorts clung even tighter, the outline of your pussy lips sucking in the fabric that was attached to it had his dick already stirring in his pants. water droplets still dripping down your delicious frame. he was unfortunately ripped from his thoughts thanks to you snapping at him, literally.

“are you gonna let me in, or do i need to give you more time to stare at my tits?” you snap, placing a hand on his stomach to push him inside. “is that an offer?” his grin is wide, but he brings you a warm towel anyways, wrapping it over your shoulders. your roll your eyes, biting back the smirk that started pulling at your lips.

“i’ll run you a bath, you can find some clothes in my room.” you can’t help but notice the bulge in his pants right before he turns around, but decide not to make a comment on it. yet.

eventually you go through his broken drawers, clothes falling over the sides of the open drawer from him not folding. eventually you find a band tee and shorts you can wear for the night. the two of you already met silly agreed that you’d be staying the night.

by the time eddie ran the bath you were already naked with just the towel he gave you. his eyes immediately shoot up towards the ceiling, heart jumping at the sudden sight. your were fully wrapped properly, towel hanging sloppily against your body. he would see a good portion of your boob and the side of your hip, the tent in his pants only growing bigger. you pretend you don’t notice it as you walk pass him. “so dramatic.” is the last thing you say before you enter the bathroom. you know exactly what you’re doing when you ‘accidentally’ brush your damp shoulder past his, and he can’t help but try and get one more quick glimpse of you slightly exposed body when you finally go in.

it’s only been a few minutes, eddie is on his bed pressed up against the headboard, blanket poorly covering up the lewd scene of his dick in his hands. his spit dribbles over his tip and knuckles, slick cock making the nastiest of sounds when he starts to jerk at his girth. pinned up pleasure immediately releasing with only a few strokes, he fights the urge to lull his head back when he hears a small, “eddie?” he can feel his heartbeat in his throat as he scrambles to stuff his cock back in his underwear, rushing himself to the bathroom. and if it wasn’t bad enough you had the door and curtain open.

breasts on full display, wet hair droplets falling down the valley of your chest, and of it weren’t for the soap suds he added he would’ve had a perfect view of your pussy. “uh yeah- huh? what’s up?” he’s stammering, face completely flushed, hands clutching to the fabric of his pajamas pants right next to his groin. he knows you know, he looks to obvious. and with the small grin stretched on your lips he had to be right.

“you never gave me a dry towel. i can’t use the one you gave me before, it’s soaked.” you cock your head to the side, poking your bottom lip out with a faux pout. voice pinched up in a whiney voice, just to make him crazier. you aren’t stupid, outside of the sounds of you sloshing in the water, your could hear his panting and cries all the way from here. he probably didn’t even notice he was that loud, but with the way he came tumbling into the bathroom you decided to play dumb.

“shit, sorry doll. got a little distracted y’know?” he’s reaching in some closet near him, searching for a decent towel, “a little caught up.” he continues.

your grin grows wider, “with what?”

you can see his body physically pause, before he quickly turns around with your towel, he silent as he hands it to you, and nearly moans when your wet hand grazes his. you watch how his adams apple bobs when he swallows, searching for the perfect excuse to save himself.

“we’ll y’know, gaming campaigns and stuff. somebody’s gotta do it.” he shrugs, and nervous laugh exacting his lips. you hear a small ‘fuck’ when you stand up from the bath water, covering yourself up with the towel before eddie’s eyes can truly wonder.

“you’re killing me.” is the only thing he says as he walks back into his empty room. you’re following right after him, towel still wrapped tightly around your body. you placed the clothes he gave you on the back of one of his junk chairs. at this point he’s not sure wether to turn around or stare. you’re completely naked in his room, towel now being used to dry your hair.

you can’t help but snicker as he sits in his awkward position, looking at the ground.

“you can look eddie, i don’t mind.” you hold your breath, fighting to giggle when he takes in a shakey sigh. he pulls his gaze away from the ceiling, face completely flushed when he finally looks at you. it’s almost like you can hear his heart beat, the only sound coming from him is his shallow breath and the way the wood beneath him creaks each time he bounces his leg. you’re finally walking towards him, body naturally swaying with each step, and his dick is crying to be let out. blood rushing straight to his shaft as his body grows warmer and warmer. “jesu christ.”

you ‘innocently’ cock your head to the side in faux confusion, “what’s making you so nervous. it’s not like you didn’t see this coming eventually.” you shrug. you’re only a few feet away from him, but close enough to place your damn hands on his clothes chest. the feeling of his heart racing makes the buzz between your legs grow stronger, the power you have over him only makes you wetter.

he swallows his thoughts down, searching for the right words to say but his brain goes completely blank when you’re tugging at the ends of his band tee, shrugging his shirt off his body. and he happily helps, stretching his arms over his head. “i know about the box.” you blurt out, and he feels as though he’s gonna have a heart attack.

he’s collecting a box of your precious belongings for him to store in his closet, he assumed no one would ever find it considering his closet is a mess, but you must’ve caught him slipping.

hair bows, hair clips, socks used to jerk his weeping cock into along with your oh so delicate panties, jewelry, lip gloss, stockings, photos he’s taken if you, changing, walking home, anything you could think of almost was in that box. even the box was yours, you’d bought a new pair of shoes, invited eddie over to show them off. next thing you know the box you planned on using for storage was gone.

he immediately begins apologizing, trying his best to explain himself, but he’s quickly cut off with your wet lips on his. the two of you moving and swaying in sink, you’re now sitting of his lap. clit bumping deliciously on his jean clad thigh, you can’t help but rock your hips against him, rough jeans giving you the perfect friction. you can feel in your gut, head rolling back, pretty moans and whines escaping your lips, and eddie’s mesmerized. you latch on to the back of his neck, fighting the urge to pick up the paste you slow down, finally gaining eye contact with him again. “i turns me on.”

“the box?” your words surprise him, that was the last thing he was expecting to hear, but what else could you be referring too?

“mhm, your obsession with me. you’re sick.” you breaths are airy and shallow, your hips stutter against his thigh as you fight the urge to chase your orgasm. eddie is struggling just as much little do you know, dick pushing harder and harder at his zipper, his hip ever so lightly bucking up into yours. your words play over and over again.

you’re sick you’re sick you’re sick

he snaps out of his thoughts when your movements come to a halt, you’re pushing at his chest again, guiding him to lay flat on his bed. the swallows thickly when he sees you inching up closer and closer to his face. you waste no time, hovering over his mouth, slowly placing yourself down on his face. a sigh of relief goes through your body, and you’re already picking up where you left off, fucking yourself into eddie’s mouth. his plump nose catching your clit every time. your grip on his hair is lethal, hips rolling back and forth to get closer to your fix. you needed this, the both of you did. the pinned up exhale tension has been building up for ages, and you finally get to let it out on him, the thrust of your hips getting heavier and faster.

eddie’s a weeping mess, moaning and crying into your puffy lips, brain is fogging up with the way he’s loosing himself between your legs. eyes screwed shut, his hips pathetically fucking the air trying to get any relief he can, but the restraints makes me harder. he loves it. he’s addicted to you and your smell, your aura, the way you fuck him, the way you subtly dominate him. those thoughts alone has him cumming in his pants, soiling his underwear. he’s panting and crying, sucking and lapping all at the same time. his head shaking back in forth not only cause he’s already pushy drunk, but he needs to taste you, needs to get you to cum in his mouth. and it’s working, you can feel it building up in you abdomen, that tight ball of nerves holds your orgasm in place as your thrust become less calculated and sloppy. pathetically chancing your high when you fuck eddie’s face harder.

one specific thrust does just enough to throw you over the edge, quite cries as you form your lips around eddie’s name, your orgasm knock the air out of your lungs with the way you’re panting. yet eddie’s still sucking at your swollen clit, it’s not enough for either of you, still needing more. you give each other no more than a minute to get yourself together before you’re already hovering over his red tip. hard and angry, you watch it twitch with anticipation before you’re slowly sinking yourself onto him.

ecstasy knocks the wind out of him when his soft head is nuzzled between your lips. mouth agape, bottom lip hanging low and heavy with lust. his cheeks, lips and tip are all the same color of dark pink. you’re only fucking the tip, you wanna watch him struggle and fall apart, the way his eyes roll to the back of his head, his whimpers getting more desperate.

you finally fully sink yourself onto him, lips stretching over his girth. never breaking contact when you start to bounce up and down. slick thighs slapping loudly against him, all it does is push him closer and closer to wear he was before. you didn’t think it could get any bigger but you swear you feel his dick growing inside you.

“call me sick.” he blurts. you snap your head of from its previous position, but decide not to dwell on his statement to much.

“you’re fucking disgusting, you sick pervert. spying on me to take photos. you’re gross.” you snap, voice sharp and heavy. but still sort of whiney.

and eddie’s losing it. hands coming down on your hips to still you, he’s fucking up into you sloppily, simple’s losing him mind beneath you, the way your clenching down on him, lips so warm and inviting. snug just how he likes it. he’s swirling in pure, raw pleasure the way he’s bucking his hips, whines ripping raw from his throat. you’re like a wet dream come to life. you are a wet dream come to life.

you throw yourself forward, latching your lips against his. you can feel your orgasm approaching again, and he’s drinking in every moan and whimper you leave on his lips, greedily. nails digging harder into the flesh of you ass being the only thing he has to keep himself grounded. you could almost smell his orgasm approaching. you choke and pants as his speed grows, latching onto his chest for stability. he’s getting sloppier and sloppier by the second, the sloshing sounds growing louder that faster he fucks you. you clit aches with the way his thumbs been swiveling around it.

it’s torture with the way you’ve been holding off, you can smell the musk off him, only dragging you in deeper. and just when you least expect it, he’s spilling his seed i side you. warm ropes of cum burning inside you, it triggers you just enough to finally cum, pussy swelling around his girth, swallowing him further. eddie’s a sweaty mess, crying for you to stop bucking your hips. “fuck, i can’t — m’cant take it.”

you finally pull yourself off of him, the squelch of his cock being pushed out makes you clench. you push yourself back into the bed, resting between his knees. your gaze on him doesn’t break when you spread your lips apart, his cream colored cum dribbling down your cunt.

“you should take a picture.” and he does just that, lazily reaching his body over to his bedside table for his polaroid. one eyes squinted as he looks through the camera lens. you look fucked out and spent, and so does he. once the picture is taken, your fucking his cum back into your cunt. swiveling and fucking yourself onto your hands, reaching back as far as you can. eddie’s dick jumps at the way it sounds when you pull your fingers out of your sopping cunt.

you’re now on your knees, ring and middle finger in his face. you tell him to suck, and he wastes not time in wrapping his heart-shaped lips around your digits and sucking his cum off. you smile cynically at his high-pitched whine.

“put that in your box pervert.”

[fredwkong]

The Prep Watch

When you first came home wearing the Prep Watch, we laughed about it. You were even the one who coined the name. You’d been at work downtown, busking and selling your punk CDs, when some preppy white boy in a Ralph Lauren polo and chinos ran up to you and smacked a Rolex or something onto your wrist.

You looked like the last person who would wear a Rolex. Every bare bit of skin was covered in tattoos, to the point that it was hard to tell you had Hispanic heritage. You had piercings all over your face and body, and you kept your hair in a neon pink mohawk. You covered up your skinny frame with heavily patched jackets and loose, distressed jeans. As the epitome of a punk, such a fancy watch stuck out like a sore thumb.

We laughed about it for a bit, and then I took a closer look. It was nice, probably gold-plated at least. “Dude, you should totally pawn it,” I told you. Our finances were…precarious, to say the least. Pawning something like this would cover, like, a week’s worth of groceries.

But you looked down and furrowed your pierced eyebrows. “I dunno,” you said, suddenly sounding far away. “I mean. It looks nice, right?”

“Definitely,” I said, assuming that would be the end of it.

But when you hopped into bed next to me that night, the Prep Watch was still on your wrist.

By the next week, it was definitely really weird. I mean, you only took the watch off to shower. But when I told you that you were being strange, you just said, “Yeah, but it looks nice, right?”

It was like living with a pod person.

I bet you thought I wouldn’t notice when you switched underwear. It was such a subtle difference, trading Walmart boxers for those fancy boxer briefs. But, I mean, I tidy the bedroom. I saw the patterns in the underwear drawer. At the time, I thought it was sort of cute. A hard-ass punk wearing underwear with a cuddly duckling pattern on it.

Little did I know.

It probably felt like temptation, the desires you were experiencing as you kept on wearing the watch. You’d be out in the city, busking the afternoon away, watching all those preppy city boys walk past in their pastel sweaters and fancy slacks. Knowing that underneath all your gear and piercings, right on top of your tattoos and your Prince Albert, you were wearing the same underwear. Did you miss any notes? Did your voice crack as you lusted over some fucking preps?

I was so confused when I found some of your more obvious piercings in the bathroom trash bin. You loved your nose rings, and we’d gotten our helix piercings together. Hearing you say that they just weren’t your thing anymore made me feel like slapping you.

I considered leaving you, you know. I could have walked out that day and left you at the mercy of whatever fucking bullshit was happening to you. But at that point, I had the crazy idea in my head that this wasn’t you. It was the Prep Watch that was doing this to you. So, like an idiot, I stayed, and tried to come up with a way to get that damn Rolex off your wrist.

One day, you came home and told me you’d gotten a corporate job. “May as well use that Economics degree,” you said, even though we’d burned our diplomas together a couple years ago. When you said, “It’s just until my music picks up,” I think we both knew you were lying, but I nodded anyway. Under your leather jacket, I could see you were wearing a polo shirt.

The next day, you got your hair cut. You hadn’t been maintaining your mohawk anyway, but it was a shock when you got home with a head of short brown curls. For some reason, it looked like it was growing in blond at the roots.

By that point, did you already hate your own music? You kept busking once or twice a week for a month longer. I think it was just for appearances. When we went out to gigs, I noticed your smile was kind of tight, like you were just there for my sake. The only times I saw you really grin anymore was when you were putting on your damn work shirts or staring at that fucking Prep Watch. I swear, you got a boner in your stupid preppy boxer briefs whenever you looked at that thing. “It looks nice, right?” you said to me, admiring the watch on your wrist under your cufflinks.

I couldn’t get the watch away from you. You only took it off to shower, and we’d stopped showering together. I bet you’d taken out all your body piercings already. Christ, they probably came off before your visible piercings, trying to hide it from me. What kind of a boyfriend— Whatever. What you were really hiding was probably how cleanly all your piercings had healed.

Yeah, don’t give me that shit about good wound care. I know what a healed over piercing looks like, and your lip has never been pierced. I mean, I know the watch is magic now. Your tattoos were fading even before you went and got them lasered off. I saw the disgust on your face every time you looked at your neck tatts in the mirror. No man’s skin gets pale like yours got. Everything cleared up.

Do you like being so much smaller? Softer? You used to be lanky and lean, now you look short, soft. Pastel. How many fucking pastel clothes can one man own? Pants, shirts, sweaters, socks, hats, fucking pastel purses! Man bags, what the fuck ever. Just a little curly-haired blond prep with perfect white teeth and a perfect little office job. Do your coworkers even know about what you used to be? They probably think you’re about twenty, with that boyish look on your clean-shaven face.

You really wanted to go to the carnival, and, I mean, you were paying most of the rent at that point, so I went along with it. For some reason, I still thought that I could separate you from that watch and everything would just… go back to normal. Who knows? Maybe if I’d found a way to separate the watch from you that night, they would have. You still remembered who you were, then. Your keyboard was covered in dust, sitting in the corner of the bedroom, but it was still there.

But as we watched the lights on the ferris wheel, you a short little pastel boy with a single demure piercing, standing next to a lanky punk covered in tattoos and wearing a patched jacket, you checked the Prep Watch. I watched as your eyes shone in the light reflected off the watch face, and with a swirl like smoke, they turned from brown to blue. You nodded to yourself and undid the watch.

“Want to try it?” you chirped at me, reaching toward my wrist.

I ran.

I think that I thought I could get back to our apartment and clear my stuff out before you got back. But I was on transit. You owned the car. I really thought I’d made it when I saw the lights off in our window. I unlocked the door, crept inside…

There was barely a rustle as you emerged from the closet and clapped the watch onto my wrist.

And now here we are. I’ve been talking for a while, I guess. I just had to get all of that out. I wish that I could just stand up, walk out, take off this watch. What I really wish is that I had just up and left when I saw the way this was going. I'm afraid that I'm about to lose myself, the way you have. I miss my boyfriend. But now here we are, and I’m wearing the Prep Watch, and, well…

It looks nice, right?

[darkphoenix5037]

Home

Hey guys, I am a bit new to the fandom and this is my first fanfiction about any BTS members. Please be kind.

I hope you all like it.

TW-Mafia, Yandere, Non-consensual touching, breaking in, Kidnapping, stalking, threats.

..........................................................................................................................

The weather was exceptionally warm as the sun slowly went down. It was sunny, and you had to squint your eyes as you watched the children at the swings in the playground. It was already 4:30 and most parents were late.

This was not a perk at the rich day care/school you worked at. Even though most parents had hours for personal grooming, poker at the country clubs or golf games, they were late to pick up their kids.

Always late with the same lines.

“It was a rather interesting game at the club!”

“The traffic was atrocious!” (Lies, It was far from rush hour)

Blah, Blah, Blah.

It was the same, every day.

As you was lost in your thoughts, you felt a hand on her shoulder. you looked up to her fellow teacher, Nicole.

“Have you seen that gentleman here before?” She asked pointing to a man on the other side of the playground’s fence. The man stood a few meters away, dressed in all black with a blond mullet. His long black coat accentuated his height making him seem like giant, you could tell he was well-built even at a distance.

“No. Should I ask?”

“Yeah”

You walked up to the man slowly, who looked at you as you neared, he took off his sunglasses as you neared. He was attractive, very attractive, dragon eyes, plump lips, smooth skin and jaw that could cut diamonds. He definitely won the genetic lottery, you thought.

“Hi, I am a teacher here. I was wondering if you were looking for someone, I haven’t seen you here before?”

The man smiled at her genially and said,” No, no I was just waiting for a colleague, his son studies here. I think his name was Mingyu? He was supposed to pick him up and drop him at home before we headed for a drink. It seems he is late.”

Gods, his voice could make men and woman weak in the knees.

“Oh, yeah Mr. Lee comes a bit late, I think he is stuck at work or that’s what he says. Anyways, I must get back to the kids. Sorry for bothering you.”

“No problem” His eyes had a strange glint in them.

You turned and headed toward Nicole quickly.

“He is waiting for Mr. Lee, Mingyu’s father, they were supposed to meet here.” you reassured Nicole.

“He is quite handsome, isn’t he? He was staring at you the whole time you were walking towards me.” She mused.

“I suppose he is.”

Nicole was about say something when Mr. Lee hurriedly neared the fence to pick up Mingyu. He didn’t notice the man as he picked his son up.

As soon as he did notice him, he went a bit pale. As if he had seen a ghost, he spoke something to the man. you couldn’t make out what he spoke. But the other man responded cheerfully and took Mr. Lee by the shoulders and walked him towards the direction of his home.

“Well that a bit strange.” Nicole murmured.

“Maybe he was a bit embarrassed to be late? Who cares?” you said.

“Yeah”

Nothing was said after that.

………………………………

“Don't turn around,” you whispered to Nicole and Hari, eyes firmly set on the tall frame of a familiar man that walked into the small coffee shop you and your friends had met up at. When they moved to turn, you hissed at them and they stopped mid-movement. Hari raised a brow at you in question.

“You remember the guy from last Wednesday? He's here, standing in the line. Second to last, tall, wearing a leather jacket and black boots. Don't make it obvious,” you said in a hushed tone.

You and Nicole had told Hari everything about the handsome mystery man and had listened to her moaning about how she would've loved to see him too because he sounded like a real snack from the way you were describing him. Well, now he was here and you weren't about to deprive her of the sight that he was.

“Damn, those shoulders are looking really-” Hari started as she swivelled in her chair to sit sideways on it and glance at the man. But she trailed off when she saw his face as he turned it in their general direction. She visibly blanched, immediately turning on the chair and facing you again.

“Do you know who that is?” she asked, her tone lowered as she leaned forward. You frowned, briefly glancing at the handsome specimen before shrugging and turning your gaze back to her.

“That is Kim Namjoon. I heard some nasty things about him from a friend. Haechan, you know him. He got involved with the wrong people and ended up being in Kim's debt. Let me tell you, that man is not someone you want to be indebted to,” she whispered frantically.

You would've shrugged this off as rumours, exaggerations or simply misconceptions and lies, but the scared look on your usually so collected friend's face made you stop. And the memory of this man, Namjoon, talking to the father outside the kindergarten. You knew something had been off. The way the man shifted slightly to stand in front of his child, his and the little one's discomfort. And Namjoon's imposing stance.

“I... are you sure? It does sound a little farfetched,” you tried weakly, but the look your friend gave you silenced any doubtful voices piping up in the back of your head.

“I'm serious. I don't know how Haechan got out of this unharmed, but he was really messed up afterwards. These gang people or whatever they are, mobsters, bikers, all the same, don't play games. You would do good to stay away from him if you ever come across him again.”

You nodded mutely, still watching Namjoon over Hari's shoulder. You froze when his gaze suddenly found yours.

“He's watching,” you bit out, trying not to move your lips and give yourself away, “What am I supposed to do?”

“Smile briefly and then look back at me, acting like we're deep in conversation,” she said quickly and then started to babble on about her week at work and the little fight she and her girlfriend had gotten into on Tuesday.

Meanwhile you sent a small smile Namjoon's way, acknowledging your recognition, and then turned your attention back to your still talking friend. You focused solely on her, nodding and laughing along as she told you about meaningless things.

You could still feel his eyes on you as you watched her talk.

………………………………

The following week was... anxiety inducing. You didn't know why, but Namjoon seemed to be following you around.

At first you tried to tell yourself you were simply paranoid and his appearances were mere coincidences. It wasn't uncommon to meet the same people at a supermarket or a coffee shop.

But the little book shop you'd discovered a few years ago, the one that was a hole on the wall, the one where you had never seen him ever, raised some concerns.

Then the tall menace started turning up along your way to work and back home, or lingered around the kindergarten, you were starting to grow restless and afraid. You had told Hari and Nicole about your observations and fears. After a talk with them, you had picked up the daily routine of texting one of them whenever you arrived at work and then got back home after.

Your suggestion to go to the police had been vehemently refused. It wouldn't be any good, Hari had told you. All it would do was get you more of his unwanted attention. So, you lived with your growing paranoia.

The aforementioned paranoia and anxiety skyrocketed at the end of the Monday after the first week of his eerie following you around.

You had just slung your backpack over your shoulder and were stepping out of the kindergarten building, your face turned up to the sky to soak up the afternoon sun, when a low hum from your right made you jump. Your eyes snapped open and your head whipped around. Your heart stuttered in your chest when you saw who had made the sound.

It was him. Namjoon stood casually leaned against the brick wall of the building you had just exited, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He smirked at your startled reaction.

“Hey there, princess. Didn't mean to startle you,” he said, not looking one bit sorry. You laughed nervously.

“Uh, it's alright. I wasn't paying attention,” you said quietly and glanced away from him. His staring was making you uncomfortable, the way he dragged his gaze over your body, taking in every inch before returning to your face. Nervousness made your heart beat a little faster.

“You're off to home then?” Namjoon asked, still watching you intently. You fidgeted on the spot, feet shifting and fingers digging into the straps of your backpack.

“uh-huh, just locked up,” you said and then cleared your throat nervously, “Well, I better get going.”

But when you started walking, Namjoon pushed away from the wall, matching your steps as you hastily scurried down the sidewalk.

“So eager to leave, sweetheart?” Namjoon joked, then added, “Oh, the name's Namjoon by the way. But I suppose you know that already judging by your behaviour. That's fine. I know yours, too.”

He proved that immediately by calling out your name again. Your heart stuttered.

You gulped, heart fluttering anxiously as you tried to come up with a response.

“Uhm, yeah. I've... heard of you,” you eventually got out, nervously glancing his way. He was still watching you with those dragon like eyes of his, a smirk curling the side of his mouth when he caught you peeking.

“No need to look so scared, sweetheart. I'm not going about hurting pretty things like you. Not really my style. You're perfectly safe with me.”

So, he knew that you had heard of his business. Or he at least suspected that you had. The lack of expression and your silence spoke volumes.

When you didn't reply to his utterance, he let out a low chuckle. It was a rich sound, full of amusement and something you would've enjoyed if it wasn't for the man making the sound.

“How about this, I take you out to dinner tomorrow and we can get to know each other better. You'll see that there's nothing to be afraid of. I can pick you up after work,” he suggested.

Your breath seized in your chest and your step faltered, almost making you stumble. Namjoon's hands shot out, grabbing onto your waist to steady you. His touch lingered as he told you to be more careful, palms sliding along your side and briefly settling on your hips and giving them a squeeze before he let the wandering appendages fall away.

“I- uh, I can't. Sorry,” you rushed out, your skin crawling from his touch. Then, without further ado, you rushed away, almost running as you rounded the next corner. You threw a look over your shoulder as you scurried over the sidewalk, but Namjoon was nowhere to be seen.

………………………………

To your misery and anger, your rejection didn't seem to deter Namjoon. He kept showing up at your work, joining you on your way to or from work. You were certain he knew by now where you lived. He would talk when he walked beside you, his long steps always catching up with yours no matter how fast you were walking, trying to escape him.

Namjoon didn't seem to mind that you didn't answer except to decline another offer at dinner or a drink. Every time you told him no, he merely chuckled in that amused way, as if you were just being silly, as if you were playing had to get  and would eventually come around.

Well, you weren't.

Not if you could help it.

As if his oppressing presence wasn't enough Namjoon started to get handsy. Nothing serious, but the lingering touches on your waist or the way his hand would brush against yours when he was once more harassing you on your way to work were making you uncomfortable.

It was like a promise.

A promise of more than just slight touches and caresses. The thought made your skin crawl.

It made you nauseous with fear and anxiety.

It got worse when he started waiting outside your apartment building when you left for work in the morning. He even stood right in front of the door to your apartment, scaring the shit out of you when you swung it opened and stepped outside, only to leap back inside and slam the wooden barrier in his face. You'd waited for several minutes, but he wasn't leaving and you had to get to work.

“Come on out, princess. You'll be late to work,” he had taunted through the door, mocking you until you opened it again and stormed past him without sparing him a glance.

He upped his game by sending you flowers and other presents, jewellery, gift cards. A set of lacy underwear and bra was by far the most unpleasant one.

All of it was eating away at you, especially because you had no one to talk to about this madness. You had stopped telling your friend, assuring her you were fine and Namjoon had moved on because you didn't want her to worry about you constantly. You regretted your decision more and more with every day that passed, each one taking a bit of your sanity with it.

You were slowly going mad, paranoia a constant companion and your anxiety too happy to remind you of the looming presence of the dubious man every time you managed to push the thought of him out of your mind for more than a couple of minutes.

The fourth week into the madness you had started sleeping with knife by your bed side.

You slept with one arm dangling over the side of the bed so you'd be able to quickly grasp the knife should it be necessary. You practiced it for hours.

Your sleep was light since this whole thing had started, disturbances not uncommon.

That led to you being sleep deprived, agitated and short-tempered most of the time. But you had to reign it in at work. The children weren't at fault and they didn't deserve any harshness from you. So, you kept it bottled up, the toxic mix of frustration, anger, fear and lack of sleep festering away inside your chest.

………………………………

The deadly cocktail boiled over after a long and particularly trying day at work. The children had been disobedient and out for trouble, stirring up fights and causing all kinds of mischief. The only reprieve you got, was when you stepped outside after work was over and there was no sight of Namjoon. He didn't appear on your way home either.

But even that tiny bit of peace was destroyed when you unlocked the door to your apartment and stepped inside to find a bouquet of flowers sitting in one of your vases on the counter of your open-plan living room.

                                                           

You certainly hadn't put them there.

He had been in your home. He had gone through your stuff to find the vase and then placed the flowers in it, putting them right there in your kitchen. He had been in your home.

The one place you thought could be safe.

The terror inside you spiked and you sprinted into the bedroom, grabbing the knife from your bedside table and then searching your apartment inch by inch to make sure the horrible man wasn't anywhere in your not-so-safe-anymore place.

When you returned to the kitchen, you slumped into a chair that stood by the counter with the flowers on it. You put the knife down beside you and glowered at the pretty bundle of colourful flowers. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, angrily staring at the bouquet. The longer you looked at it, the angrier you became.

How dare he to come into your life and turn it upside down?

How dare he harass and follow you, touch you without your permission?

And most of all, how dare he break into your place?

You were mad. The lack of sleep, anger, frustration and fear of the last weeks finally becoming too much as you sat there and stewed in your own dark thoughts.

A loud knock startled you out of your vengeful thoughts, your gaze snapping up and zeroing in on the front door. Another knock came and you growled.

“I swear to god, if that is his bitch ass on the other side of that door...” you cursed under your breath, grabbing the knife and tucking into  the waistband on your jeans at your back. You felt like a criminal yourself as you stomped over to the door, ready to do whatever was necessary to finally get the obsessive man to lay off you.

You ripped the door open and your nostrils flared at the sight of Namjoon. It was indeed him, his usual smirk peeking out and taunting you as you stood in the door frame, shaking with rage. But before you could utter a single word, the man stepped forward, shouldering his way past you and into your flat. He pushed you out of the way and closed the door behind himself.

“How do you like the little surprise I left you?” he asked as he casually strolled through the room as if he owned the place. It made you snap out of your stupor.

“I don't give a shit about you or your presents. Leave my fucking home,” you growled and pointed at the door, your hand trembling.

Namjoon just laughed, tilting his head as he eyed you with slightly raised eyebrows.

“My kitten has claws after all. Where does that courage come from all of a sudden?” he taunted. “Not that I don't appreciate it. I enjoy a little fire in my woman. What I don't appreciate however, is that attitude you have going on, baby girl.”

“Don't call me that, asshole. I'm not your woman. I'm not your sweetheart or baby girl. I'm not your anything. All you are to me is a nuisance and I would appreciate it if you got the fuck out of my home and my life,” you hissed, voice wavering with rage.

“Careful, doll. Don't test my patience,” Namjoon said, the smirk gone and a steely expression in its place. You gulped and took a step back. But you didn't give up. You wouldn't, not so easily.

“I know you're probably not often told no, but I will do so, have done so. I am doing it right now. No, I don't want to go out with you, I don't want anything to do with you. Now please leave my home,” you pressed out between gritted teeth, forcing yourself to be firm but as calm as possible.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Namjoon started, slowly walking closer with his hands in his pockets, “You sound like you believe you have any say in this. One thing you are right about though. I'm not told no. I haven’t been told no since I took these streets, this city, this country. No one tells me no. You certainly don't tell me no.”

He came even closer, closing the distance between the two of you.

“And I will have you one way or another. You're mine and I decided as such, whether you like it or not. Accepting it makes it easier for both of us. Be good for me and I'll be good to you.”

He was closer now, almost at an arm's length. He pulled his hands from his pockets.

That was the last push you needed. That man wasn't going to give up, he had told you as much. You reached behind your back and pulled the knife out of your jeans. You brought it up in front of you, and brandished it threateningly at the blonde .

Namjoon's eyebrows rose up so high it looked like they were trying to escape into his hairline. It seemed you had managed to take him by surprise. After overcoming his initial surprise, Namjoon chuckled. This time it sounded almost impressed.

“When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn't expect my day would end like this,” he admitted, staring down the knife at your angry, but afraid face.

“You certainly have more guts than I gave you credit for. But who can blame me, really. You always seemed like such a timid thing. So sweet and friendly.”

You huffed. As if he knew anything about you. He only knew what he could gather from his obsessive stalking. He didn't know the first thing about the real you, the you, you were when you were alone or with your friends.

Namjoon's next condescending words pulled you from your upset musings.

“Do you even know how to use that, princess?” he asked, his tone obviously implying he didn't believe you did.

“My mother taught me,” you answered curtly.

“Did she now?” Namjoon said in a low voice, a threatening edge lacing his words. You didn't miss the dangerous glint in his eyes. You tried not to be intimidated by it.

“Find something fleshy and push.”

Your mother hadn't taught you how to stab. You didn't know the first thing about it. Your knowledge extended exactly to what you had just said. 'find something fleshy and push'.

“Is that so...” he said, his voice still threateningly low as he stepped closer, startling you when he approached until the knife was pressed right up against his throat.

Your hands trembled, fingers sweaty on the handle as you stared up at Namjoon, trying hard to hide your terror. It became stronger with the second, replacing the mindless rage that had guided your actions when you pulled the knife in your grasp.

Now you weren't sure about this anymore at all. And Namjoon knew it. You could tell by the victorious look in his eyes, the way the corner of his lips tilted up ever so slightly. Before you could further ponder and weigh your options, several things happened at the same time.

Namjoon moved, grabbing your wrist and twisting it until you let out a cry of pain and let go of the weapon. It was ripped from your grasp, the safety put on and then tossed to the other end of the room where it clattered noisily to the ground. Your legs were kicked out from under you and you fell to your knees. Namjoon's weight came crushing down on you, both your wrists gathered in one of his big hands and held above your head as he took you off your knees and pressed you flat to the ground, facing him.

Your lower half was restrained by his heavy body, legs tangled in his and unmovable. Your breath was coming in harsh pants as you tried to come to grips with what had just occurred in the span of the last five seconds. When you did, you began to struggle, shaken out of your shocked stupor.

“Let go,” you wheezed, his weight pressing down on you not only immobilising you, but also making it hard to breathe properly.

“No can do, baby,” Namjoon said, his breath puffing over your face as he held himself above you. He shifted, keeping your legs immobilised as he sat up, taking your upper body with his and pulling you up by your wrist as he got up fully. You stumbled to your feet, losing your balance from the sudden change in position and his impatient jerking.

Unable to catch yourself with your hands, you face-planted into his firm chest with a little 'oof', making him chuckle as he pulled you back and shifted your wrists from one hand into the other. His free hand reached up and brushed your dishevelled hair away from your flushed face.

You cringed away from his touch, shrinking in on yourself and pulling your shoulders up. He ignored your obvious distaste, grasping your chin between his long fingers and keeping your nervous gaze directed at his.

“I would really hate to punish you, princess. Behave,” he said coolly as he eyed you intently, taking in your dilated pupils and the fluttering of your pulse beneath the thin skin on your throat. His eyes followed the bob of your throat when you gulped.

All your earlier bravado was gone, the rage fuelled resistance and bravery all but obliterated by the man standing in front of you.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you after you approached me that day at the fence,” he said, still staring down at you. His touch on your face wandered, fingers drawing along your jawline and then tracing the shape of your cheekbones. You didn't dare move, your breath shallow as he kept touching you.

“Your pretty smile and beautiful eyes... I knew I had to have you,” he continued, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “So, I watched, I waited. I had to learn more about you before I could take you. Gotta make sure I know all I can so I can take care of my woman properly.”

A shiver wrecked your frame at his sick and twisted words.

“As for the things I couldn't find out...” his touch wandered lower, caressing your throat and then moving even further to drag his fingertips across the tops of your breasts, “Well, I'll just have to see for myself. I'm a fast learner. Adept. I'm sure you'll come to appreciate it very soon, princess. I may not be a good man princess but I will be good to you. In all ways possible.”

You shook your head weakly, a whimpered, “No, please” leaving your lips. Namjoon shushed you, hand coming to rest on your throat. He didn't squeeze, but you knew he would if you made a wrong move.

“Now, don't act up baby. I know you're a good girl, so I will forgive your earlier outbreak. Continue being bad and you'll come to regret it very soon,” he said, slightly tightening his grip on both your wrists and throat.

Tears rose in your eyes. They were tears of despair as the reality of the situation finally sunk in. You weren't going to get away from him. He wasn't going to stop even if you did manage to escape his clutches in some miraculous way. He had claimed you as his, chosen you and decided to take you without asking your opinion or stopping to take your feelings into consideration.

Kim Namjoon took what he wanted and he wasn't told no. He was never told no.

You didn't struggle when Namjoon dragged you over to your front door, pulling you out of your apartment and guiding you down the stairs, catching you several times when you missed a step or two in your haze.

He was muttering quiet reassurances the whole way, brushing his hands across your body, squeezing and grabbing without your consent. When you stepped out onto the sidewalk, your gaze rose from the ground and landed on a black car standing on the side of the street a couple of feet away.

Namjoon followed your line of sight, reading the silent question on your features.

“I'm going to take you home, princess. Our home.”

[probably-writing-x]

Sun In The Storm - Part Two

Summary: Rafe as a toxic bf

Warnings: Toxic relationship, discussions of unhealthy eating habits, cursing

Author’s Note: I loveeee writing this concept <3 Let me know if you would like another part

~~~

You hadn’t seen Rafe for the past week, managing to avoid him. Well, perhaps avoiding him was an understatement - you were avoiding everyone. You hadn’t done much more than leave your room to go to the bathroom and go back. For the first couple of days, you hadn’t eaten either. Eventually, Topper had started coming up to your room and giving you food, leaving it on the nightstand if you were asleep, or sitting with you to make sure you ate it if you were awake.

Today, he’d brought up your food and was sat on the edge of your bed with you.

“Okay, so, it’s been five days,” Your brother points out, “Ready to see the outside world yet?”

“I’ll have you know I have a great view out of this window,” You comment, taking a bite of the sandwich in your hand.

“Sarah’s having a party tonight, and I think you should come,” He explains, watching your face shift slightly in concern before he says, “Rafe’s not going to be there, she already told me that.”

“I don’t-“

“(Y/N), you’re my sister and I love you, but please don’t stay in your room any longer,” Topper shakes his head, smiling at you, “I mean, seriously.”

You roll your eyes, “I’ll think about it.”

“You’re coming with me.”

~~~

He wasn’t wrong. You showered, changed out of your pyjamas, put on some makeup, and felt the most human that you had felt ever since you’d left Rafe’s last week. Topper tells you to find him at the party if you wanted to go home at any point, and reminds you three times that he wouldn’t be drinking anyway.

The party is full of people that you don’t know, and it’s a slight relief to know that not all of them would be desperate to ask about Rafe. But, then again, it didn’t ever take long for news to travel around this place.

You take a red solo cup of tequila and sprite and sip it quicker than you probably should, saying hi to the few people that come over to you. It felt like their eyes were on you more so than their interest - like they were waiting for you to break. For years now they had known you as a couple - you and Rafe. And, through everything, you always stuck with him. It felt odd to accept that it wasn’t the case anymore. And they were all waiting for the moment you got back together.

Eventually, you walk through to the lounge with another new drink in hand, where people are mingling in every corner. You take a deep breath and another sip of your drink, interrupted as someone comes over to you.

“So I hear you’ve caused quite the stir around here recently,” An unknown voice speaks from beside you and you turn to find a guy you’d never seen before.

He’s about six foot tall, dark brown curls floppy on his head and dark brown eyes, freckles darkening over his nose and cheeks.

“I’m Ryan,” He outstretches a hand to you.

“(Y/N).”

“So, from what I hear, you had a boyfriend, he was a bit of a dick, and you ended things,” He continues, “And now everyone’s looking at you like you’re a ticking time bomb.”

“Yeah, I guess that sums it up,” You force a smile, “I’m glad you managed to get the rundown before you met me.”

“Just taking notes so I knew what I had to contend with,” Ryan nods, a smirk dancing over his lips.

You don’t respond, taking another gulp of your drink. It’s stronger than you’d normally have and it already feels like the world is going a little fuzzy around the edges.

“So, now that I know you’re single, how about you go out with me some time?” He suggests, leaning sideways against the wall beside you, his figure towering over your frame.

“Oh, um,” You clear your throat, another sip of your drink, “I’m not really wanting to date anyone right now.”

He smiles like it was some sort of comfortable challenge before going on, “Well, you wouldn’t know unless you tried, would you? What’s the harm in trying?”

You go to respond as commotion seems to rise over the crowd of people at the party, everyone’s eyes flicking towards you and then back amongst themselves. That’s when you see him. Towering over the majority of bodies in the crowd, a face that made your heart clench. Rafe’s eyes fall on you instantly, and an anger seems to seep into his features.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” He bellows, storming over the length of the room towards you.

“Hey listen man I-“ Ryan begins.

“Shut the fuck up!” He returns, “Get away from her.”

With that, Rafe’s hand wraps around your forearm tightly, his eyes scanning over your face with wild fury like he’s checking for anything wrong.

“We’re leaving.”

Your words seem to fail you, incapable of focusing on anything else but the feeling of his fingers clenching around your skin. He keeps tight hold of you, pulling you through the crowd of people until the fresh air eventually hits you, and reality seems to too.

“Get off of me!” You raise your voice, tugging your arm away from his hold with no success.

“That guy is an asshole, (Y/N), you’re lucky I came home when I did,” Rafe confirms, “You shouldn’t be talking to him he-“

“Enough Rafe!” You pull your arm away once more and release yourself from his grip.

You stumble backwards just slightly with the force and Rafe’s features seem to settle into worry, softening almost.

“I don’t need you to do this. I don’t need you to pull me away from guys at parties, or drag me out of them for that matter, I don’t need any of that. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m not saying that you can’t but it’s my-“

“It’s not your job,” You interject, “It’s not your job anymore okay?”

His face drops completely then, any ounce of anger simply dropping to the floor around him. His shoulders fall too, their tension dissipating.

“(Y/N) this is ridiculous,” He drags a hand over his hair, “This isn’t us. We just need to talk about this and then we’ll sort it and-“

“Rafe please,” Your words come out as a whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself, “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

He is silent, his brows furrowing as he watches you, refusing to take his eyes away.

“I need to go home,” You clear your throat, “I’m going to find Topper.”

“No!” Rafe interrupts quickly before you can turn away, “Don’t do that. I’ll drive you.”

“I-“ You pause for a second and scan his face, watching the way he looks at you like you’re everything in front of him, “Okay.”

The two of you walk towards his car and he hurries just slightly ahead to open the door for you. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d done it. You smile as a way of thanking him and sit silently in the passenger seat, your hands tucked together in your lap. He gets into the driver’s side and starts the engine, hand on the back of your chair to reverse out of the spot. You stay quiet, the air hanging heavy between the two of you. He doesn’t speak, instead turning up the volume on the radio just enough for it to be heard. It’s a Noah Kahan song, one from the playlist that you and Rafe shared.

No thing defines a man like love that makes him soft. And sentimental like a stranger in the park.

For a few moments, I see you.

You turn to look at him, his hands loose on the steering wheel, his eyes looking ahead at his headlights on the road. There’s a shadow cast over his face that seems to soften the harshness of his cheek bones, darkening the tired purple under his eyes. Part of him still felt like yours, you knew that as much as you didn’t want to.

All too soon, he turns to park in front of your driveway and shuts off the engine, only then turning his head to look at you.

“Did your parents have a good trip?”

You look at him for a second, swallowing the lump in your throat, “They’re still away. Their two week trip turned into four weeks, and I think there’s discussion about extending it again.”

“Really?” Rafe laughs a little, “Typical of them.”

You nod, laughing just slightly too, “Yeah, very typical.”

“Do you remember the first time they left after we got together? Your Dad had that camera installed at the front door so I had to climb through the window every time?” He smiles, “I think I got stuck in the bush one time.”

You laugh, “Yeah, I spent like an hour getting all of the twigs out of your hair. So high maintenance.”

“I’m high maintenance?” He puts a hand to his chest in mock-horror, “You have an entire cupboard of your stuff at my house, like more than I own I’m pretty sure.”

The silence falls between you again, a moment of realisation.

Rafe clears his throat, “I can get that stuff back to you if you need it.”

You shake your head, fiddling with a loose thread between your fingers, “No, it’s okay, it’s no rush.”

He pauses for a moment like he’s contemplating if the next words are a good idea or not, “It’s been weird not speaking to you the past few days. I’ve gone to text you or call you like every day and then realised I can’t. I even drove to your place on my way home two days ago, and just sat outside in my car.”

“Stalker.”

He laughs, scratching the back of his neck, “Yeah, maybe.”

When he moves his hand back down, you notice the bruises casting over his knuckles, wrapping over the bones. You reach out and grab his hand in yours, “What did you do?”

Rafe swallows thickly, “I just had some business to take care of.”

Instantly, his hand falls out of yours and you re-gather the ounces of yourself that you felt you had left, “I should go.”

Your fingers fumble to find the door handle and you push it open, stepping out of the car onto shaky legs.

“(Y/N)?” He leans over just slightly across the middle of the car, like he’s constantly drawn towards you, “I’m sorry.”

You inhale and exhale shakily, clenching and unclenching your fists, “Good night Rafe.”

~~~

The following morning, you’re up before the sun is, sure that you’d only got a couple hours of sleep. You shower until the water goes cold, you tidy up all of the discarded clothes from around your room, clean every inch of your bathroom, then go downstairs to do the same in the kitchen and every other room that followed. You’re in the lounge when the vacuum switches off and you turn around to see Topper stood against the doorframe.

“Do you mind turning into Cinderella after ten am next time, please?” Your twin brother frowns, arms folded as he watches you.

“Sorry,” You smile, “I couldn’t sleep.”

He walks over and sits on the arm of the nearest couch, “So I heard Rafe found you last night. What happened?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “He saw this guy Ryan talking to me and he flipped.”

Topper shakes his head, “The guy acts like he owns you. What did you do?”

“We argued outside and then he drove me home.”

“He drove you?” Topper raises his eyebrows, “Are you fucking serious (Y/N)? I was right there, you should’ve come to find me!”

“It’s fine, Top, nothing happened. He drove me home, he left, that was all,” You defend, wheeling the vacuum across the floor towards him.

Topper seems to relax just enough, “Did he say anything?”

“Enough of the third degree please?” You shake your head at him, “Nothing happened, that’s all you need to know. I’m going over to his in a little bit to drop off his stuff, and then the door is closed, it’s done.”

“You know it gets harder to believe you every time you say it,” Topper jokes, “Need me to come as back up?”

“I can’t think of anything worse,” You roll your eyes, “You need a shower, you stink.”

~~~

When you turn up at Rafe’s house, his car is missing from the driveway. You walk up to the door and knock, stepping back.

“Hey!” It’s Sarah on the other side, “(Y/N), what are you doing here? I was just on my way out.”

Your hands feel a little clammy holding the shoe box in your hands, “Oh, sorry, I can come back another time. I just needed to bring these things for Rafe.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” She beams, “You can take them straight up to his room if you want, he’s not here. I’ve got to run but just lock the door behind you when you go, you know where the spare key is.”

You agree and she’s already hurrying off to leave before you step inside, the house eerie in its familiarity now that you were here without the crowd of people, and even more so without Rafe. Following the steps you’d taken a thousand times, you make your way up to Rafe’s room, the door just ajar. Everything is in its usual place, his bedsheets messy over the mattress, clothes across the floor, his laptop shut on the desk. You set the box down onto a flat part of his bed and that’s when you see it - on an empty spot on top of his chest of drawers. It’s a brown Nike shoe box with the first initial of your name written in Sharpie ink across the top.

Curiosity gets the better of you when you go over. Part of you expects to find all of the boring bits - a half used deodorant, a few tops you’d left here, the odd pair of socks, some of your makeup, all the typical bits. But there’s nothing like that.

There’s a golf pencil and scoresheet from one of your first dates, ticket stubs from movies you’d seen and the many times you’d caught the boat to the mainland, and a snow globe that he’d won you at a fair. Underneath that, like a bed for it all, is a mass of photos of the two of you.

You pick a bunch up and one falls back face down into the box. It’s then that you see the words written on the back - each photo marked with a song. There are ones of you from when you first got together, from your first Christmas as a couple, your first holiday together, each one of them paired with a song that reminded him of you two.

“You know it’s not good to go snooping through peoples’ stuff.”

You flinch at the sound and almost drop the photos in your hand, holding them a little tighter instead. When you turn around, Rafe is leaning against the open doorframe, his keys spinning around his finger.

“Sorry I just-“

“Came to drop off my stuff?” He points towards the box on the bed, “I haven’t got your stuff together yet.”

“What’s all this?” You look down to the box, setting the few photos back into their place.

Rafe smiles a little, “Just stuff from the last few years. I’m sentimental, what can I say?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “There’s stuff in here from before we were even together, you’ve got everything. How did I not know you had all of this stuff?”

He shrugs his shoulders and walks over to you, taking the box in his hands and closing the lid over it, “Well, I realised that I just managed to keep things from our first dates and everything, and then I just decided to keep it all in one place. I thought it would be nice for a present one day, or to show our kids or something.”

Rafe takes the box and pushes it back into an empty slot at the top of his closet, stretching up to do so.

“What are you-“

“You broke up with me, you don’t get the privilege of my (Y/N) box,” He jokes, wiggling his finger at you.

There’s a lump in your throat that seems to strip you of any words until you say, “Why are you keeping it?”

“I’ll need to add more to it one day,” He shrugs his shoulders, “Would be stupid not to.”

As much as you hated to admit it, all of the bad seemed to disappear in these moments. All of the arguments and the bad days and the worst of your relationship seemed to dissipate. He’s your boyfriend again, the boy you’d chosen every day to love. And you believe him when he says he’d be adding more.

“Maybe not now, maybe not soon, but I’ll find a way,” He nods and it seems to convince you too, “Is that okay with you (Y/N)?”

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Promptober: Day Thirty One

Steve Harrington x fem!reader x Eddie Munson 2263 words.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN👻

It was fun to rile Steve up. That’s why you were dressed in nothing but Eddie’s clothes. 

Not that you were wearing many of them. You’d spent the afternoon with your boys, lazy and cosy with the two of them in Steve’s house. There had been rain on the windows all day, nothing to do other than stay inside and ride out the late October storm with your two favourite people. 

Steve and Eddie had stuck on movie after movie, bickering gently about each choice, rarely agreeing but watching the other wanted anyway and you’d eased in and out of the room, leaving them half dressed and splayed out in Steve’s big bed. Every now and then you’d return with cookies, a new can of soda for them, a book you’d chosen to read for a while and each time you received a kiss from both. 

You’d been gone a while this time, smirking at yourself in the mirror in one of the Harrington’s many spare bedrooms. You’d picked up Eddie’s clothes from Steve’s desk chair without either boy even noticing, too busy arguing over if Eddie would be able to rock a hat like Indiana Jones. 

“You don’t have the hair for it,” Steve had commented mildly and Eddie had pinched him. 

But their bickering allowed you to strip off, down to your black underwear, bra long forgotten and somewhere on Steve’s bedroom floor but it didn't matter ‘cause you were pulling on Eddie’s hellfire shirt, the hem hitting the tops of your thighs, his leather jacket sitting a little lower. 

The zips were cold against your bare skin, the jacket heavier than you’d thought it would've been and you were cursing yourself for not grabbing his denim vest when you had the chance. 

But you fluffed up your hair, wished you had some fishnets and heels to really finish off the look but you were already sneaking back down the hall, calling out to the boys as you neared. 

“Hey, guys?” You were already grinning. “I think I’ve found my Halloween costume.”

Both boys fell silent as you appeared in the doorway, hip popped and leaning against the frame, eyes bright, playful. 

“This is favouritism,” Steve said, at the same time Eddie moaned and sighed:

“That’s fuckin’ hot, sweetheart.”

Steve couldn’t deny that, he wouldn’t dare. You looked as hot as Eddie did in the leather jacket, hotter, he’d even say. But there was something that flared in the pit of his stomach that felt a little like jealousy and the only way he knew how to make it better, was to get his hands on you. 

Immediately. 

So he abandoned the movie, let the remote fall to the side and he moved to the edge of the bed, beckoned you forward with one hand and a dirty smile. 

“C’mere, baby.”

You grinned, playing coy as you took each step too slow, sauntering into the room with more attitude than you could afford to have ‘cause Steve looked like he wanted to fuck it out of you. 

You stopped just before Steve, hands clasped behind your back, twisting to and fro. 

Eddie snorted, lay spread out on the bed behind Steve, bare chested and smirking. “Oh she’s feeling brave, huh?”

Steve grinned and tilted his head, levelling you with a gaze that made your knees a little weak. He reached out and caught the edge of the shirt, pulling you in gently. You didn’t resist, tiptoeing over to stand between Steve’s spread knees. 

“This is nice,” Steve murmured, running his finger and thumb over the leather. “You good, baby.”

Eddie moved in, curling around Steve as he hooked his chin over the other boy's shoulder, biting down on his bottom lip as he hummed in agreement, eyes hot and heavy on you. 

“She does, doesn’t she?” Eddie grinned. “Too bad you’re makin’ poor Stevie feel left out.”

“Mmm,” Steve sighed, trying to sound sadder than he looked. Both boys were still grinning. “So left out.”

Steve ran his hands from the outside of your thighs up and up and up until his fingertips were ghosting over the black lace of your underwear. His heart spiked at the feel of bare skin against his palms. Steve has been graced with the sight of you in his clothes many times over, in fact, he’d lost a good portion of his wardrobe to you, t-shirts and hoodies taking up most of your sleepwear drawer. 

But still, he was still greedy for it. 

Eddie didn’t mind, you knew that, Steve knew that. It had been like that since the beginning, since that night at the party and you loved both boy’s in a way that you couldn’t explain but everyone knew there was something with Steve. 

Something a little more. Something a little different.  

It worked though, this dynamic. ‘Cause sometimes Eddie liked to watch, liked to sweet up situations with teasing words and a taunt here and there, sitting back to reap the rewards - a hand cupping himself as he watched you and Steve, both pairs of eyes on him. 

“My shirt, my jacket, our pretty girl,” Eddie cooed, “why don’t you let Steve give you something, huh, sweetheart?”

You breath hitched. You knew what Eddie was suggesting, you knew what he wanted Steve to give you. 

The jacket was pushed from your shoulders and you weren’t even sure by who. The leather hit the floor, a glitter of silver zips and buckles. Steve pulled you into his lap, smiling all sweet as he draped your bare legs across his. Eddie leaned in, kissed your cheek over Steve’s shoulder, littered your jaw until he found your lips and pressed his to them. 

It was a kiss that was dirty and deep, all tongue and teeth and it made you too warm, feeling Eddie sigh into your mouth, knowing that Steve was so close, watching. 

Eddie pulled back, pecking at your lips, your nose. He nudged yours with his own, pushed at your cheek until you were turning back to Steve. You let the other boy mouth at your jaw, eliciting sweet, little sighs from you until you were wriggling impatiently in his lap and Eddie was cooing with false sympathy. 

“Oh, pretty baby,” he whispered as Steve sucked a soft lilac bruise onto your neck. “S’wrong?”

You felt Steve smile against you, a little wicked and he grabbed handfuls of your ass, dragging you further onto him, cunt pressed up against the hard outline of his dick through his sweatpants. 

He wasn’t wearing underwear, you could tell. Tell by the way the length of him sprung up and bobbed needily beneath the cotton, just as eager as you were. You tried to duck your head, tried to tilt your face to Steve’s so you could chase his lips with yours, nerdy and desperate for a proper kiss, like the one Eddie had given you. 

“Want a kiss,” you whispered, already gone on your boys, eyes glassy, body flushed, one hand gripping Steve’s shirt, the other wound in Eddie’s curls. “Please.”

Steve smiled, sticky sweet, bumping his nose softly against your own. He made a soft noise, coaxing you towards him, letting you push your lips to his. It was the same kind of kiss that you’d shared with Eddie, slow and hot, tongues pressing over each other’s, your hand fisting at Steve’s shirt ‘cause you knew he’d pull away before you wanted him to. 

He did. You whined. 

“For someone who came in here looking to tease me, you don’t like it yourself, do you?” Steve murmured and Eddie snickered. “So impatient.”

“Didn’t wanna tease,” you huffed, a little more breathless than before ‘cause Steve was easing a hand behind your thighs as Eddie was mouthing at your neck, sucking another bruise beside the one Steve had left. 

“No?” Steve raised his eyebrows, doubtful. “What did you want?”

Eddie moved to sit in front of you both, kneeling on the floor so he could run his hand over your knee, the other holding onto Steve’s. Both boys were too close, overwhelming, noses brushing against your cheek, your jaw, lips ghosting over different parts of you. 

You gasped, Steve’s finger pulling at the lace of your underwear, hitching it to the side so he could run two fingers through your folds, gathering all the slick there. You keened, pushing your forehead to his cheek as you ducked your head and tried to hide, eyes fluttering closed. 

“Nuhuh, princess, c’mon,” Eddie muttered, pulling gently at one of your legs. It dropped from where it lay across Steve’s thighs, leaving you open for both boys to see. “Be good.”

You clenched around nothing, whimpering at Eddie’s words and Steve kissed at your cheek, at the corner of your mouth as your lips parted. 

“Did you want me to touch you while you wore Eddie’s shirt, huh?” Steve whispered, staring down at the way the other boy was kissing a line over your knee, up the inside of your thigh. 

Eddie grinned as you shivered, letting him ease you open a little further, Steve’s fingers working a slow circle over your entrance, working one finger, two fingers inside of you in a stretch that made you feel full. You cried out, panting. 

“Looking all pretty for us? Yeah?” Steve pumped his fingers in and out of you in a slow drag, peppering your jaw with tiny kisses as he spoke, grinning when you threw your head back onto his shoulders, arching against him. “Such a tease, babe, comin’ in dressed like that.”

 “She knew exactly what she was doing,” Eddie agreed, voice all nonchalant as the two boys spoke as if you weren’t there. “Dirty, little thing.”

Your eyes flew open when another finger joined Steve’s, cold with silver rings, long and calloused where Steve’s were wide. Eddie brushed a finger over your clit, a gentle touch over and over and over as Steve kept fucking you with his digits. 

It was maddening, the touch of two of them at once, something you never got used to and Eddie was moving into the space between your spread legs, motioning for Steve to hold you open as he leaned in. Steve huffed out a laugh as you whined, realising what was happening seconds before it did. 

“Oh, fu-uck,” you gasped as Eddie curls brushed the insides of your thighs. He took over holding your underwear to the side, nose bumping the swell of your clit before he closed his lips around it. 

You reached back to curl one hand into Steve’s hair, holding him to you, his cheek pushed to yours as he hooked his chin over your shoulder to look down and watch Eddie lick over you. You other hand grabbed Eddie’s curls, tugging as he suckled at you. 

All three of you groaned when he licked a stripe up your cunt, tongue licking over Steve’s fingers at the same time. He reached up to push at his shirt you wore, exposing the soft of your stomach, the curve of your tits. 

“Gonna come?” Steve muttered, voice all sweet for you. He nipped at your jaw, pulled your thigh out further for Eddie and curled his fingers into you a little deeper. “Gonna come for us, baby? Gonna be a good girl, yeah?”

You gasped, eyes watering, jaw slack as you arched further into Eddie’s mouth, chasing the feeling of his tongue sliding hotly over you. Steve was still running his mouth, cooing softly, pressing kisses to your neck in between dirty words. 

“That’s it, oh fuck, babe,” Steve moaned, pace faltering as you wiggled back against him, cock twitching under your ass. “That’s it, there you go, I can feel it, gettin’ tighter for us.”

Eddie doubled down on his efforts at Steve’s words, gasping against you as you tugged his hair a little meanly. He dragged the flat of his tongue against you, pressed it down onto your clit and wrapped his lips around you, sucking soft but consistently. 

You were gone, held down by Steve’s wide hand, back pressed to his chest as he slid his fingers in and out of you at a quick pace, wet, slick sounds filling the room. 

He made a dirty sound, a low, wanting moan as he gazed down at you, thighs shiny, Eddie lips slick with you. Your cheeks were damp, flushed, lips rosy from biting down on them, Eddie’s hellfire shirt tangled around your waist. 

“Prettiest girl,” Steve told you, kissing your mouth, bottom lip first, top lip after.  “Our pretty, pretty girl.”

You fell apart at his sweet words, Eddie groaning into you as he kept licking over your clit until you were squirming, Steve cursing at how you clenched down tight around his fingers. They helped you ride it out, touches becoming softer and more gentle the more sensitive you became and you were gasping, chest heaving as you sagged against Steve. 

Eddie pulled away, kissed a path up your thighs, your tummy until he reached your mouth kissing you so you could taste yourself, turning to Steve to give him the same treatment too.

You didn’t say anything as you came back to reality, the room buzzing with a static you were sure only you could hear, bones feeling heavy. The boys kissed you sweet, lips pushed to different parts of your neck, your face, ghosting over your lips in turn. 

And then, Eddie:

“If you go put on that yellow sweater of Steve’s I like so much, we’ll fuck you real good, princess.”

[crimson-calligraphyx]

A/N: I'm so sorry for how long of a delay there was on this update, and even more sorry for the poor quality of this chapter lol. I went to 5 concerts consecutively (two of which were Bad Omens, of course) and was dead tired afterwards. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy. Love you all 🖤 Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @ladyveronikawrites @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit

The second I unlocked the door to my home, I beelined it to my bedroom and collapsed onto my bed. I was exhausted. Though the past week was full of excitement, I just wasn't cut out for the tour life. It was fast-paced, cramped and loud, and I couldn't wait to return to my placid bakery where things made more sense.

It was still such an amazing thing to witness the guys do what they were most passionate about night after night, and I was so happy for and proud of them. But Christ, did they wipe me out.

I wasn't due back to the bakery until tomorrow morning, so I took advantage of the alone time that I had and slept. I didn't even change out of my clothes, just simply kicked my shoes off and snatched Noah's pillow, hugging it to my chest and breathing in the little aroma it still had of his cologne. I was out cold in a matter of minutes.

It took every fiber of my being that I had to not throw my phone against the wall when my alarm went off the next morning. It felt like I blinked, and it was already time to get up, when in reality I slept for about 10 hours give or take. Clearly, I needed it though—I woke up in the same position, and my neck was stiff from the way I had fallen asleep on it.

Groaning, I pushed myself into a sitting position, swinging my legs off the side of the bed, and tried to rub the knot out of my neck. I gave up with a huff when I wasn't able to alleviate it and headed straight to the bathroom to shower.

I took an unnecessarily long shower, relishing the familiar warmth and steady pressure from the spray head as the water caressed and soothed my exhausted body. I never thought I'd miss something as simple as that, but after a week of fighting for a shower that would be lukewarm at best, this was like hitting the jackpot.

Accepting the fact that I needed to stop dragging my feet and go to work, I reluctantly left the shower with a sigh. I stayed in there until my fingers were pruned, appreciating every second I had with the coconut lather of my shampoo and body wash. I dressed quickly, threw my hair into a messy bun, and made my way to the bakery where I was met with welcoming smiles from Juliana and Holly.

“Welcome back, Liv! How was your time away with the hubby?” Jules asked once I made my way around the counter. “Long,” I huffed out a tired laugh, and she furrows her brows with a timid smile grazing her lips. “It was great, but the boys are just a lot—especially when you’re stuck on a bus with them, sharing one bathroom.” She snorts and nods her head in understanding. “I can only imagine. I grew up with three older brothers; I couldn't be stuck on a bus with them for that long. I’d have killed one of them, I’m sure.”

The three of us shared a laugh as I made my way into my office, pleased to see that it was still the way I had left it, with only a few items of paperwork to file away. Logging into my computer, I saw just how well Jules held down the fort while I was away; she took care of the cash deposits, counted inventory, and even placed the order for our next delivery before I walked in this morning.

"Hey, Liv," Holly greets me as she knocks on the door frame. "There's someone in the lobby asking to see you." I finished filing away the paper I held in my hand and turned my attention to her. "Do you know who it is?" I quirked an eyebrow in curiosity, not expecting any visits from anyone, especially since I just returned home. "I'm not sure of his name, but he's here all the time," she shrugs. "Shaggy hair, always get a muffin and a dark roast coffee."

Steven.

My stomach immediately churns at the thought of him, remembering how awful that night had been the last time that I saw him. It makes me sick how easily he manipulated me into drinking, how easily he conditioned me into letting my guard down to take advantage of me... But it was my own doing.

I was so weak, so vulnerable, and it was fucking embarrassing. My behavior was embarrassing. A sloppy drunk causing a scene and stumbling outside, collapsing to the ground in hysterics and vomiting on the sidewalk as her husband held her.

The worst part about that night was how I broke Noah's heart, asking if he even loved me. The sorrow on his face was permanently burned into my mind—the pained inhale he took as his mouth dropped open, the tears that rolled down his face as he shook his head in disbelief. I could see his heart shattering, and there's a part of me that will always hate myself for causing him that pain.

I sighed harshly and stood, bracing myself for whatever bullshit Steven had to say to me. I made my way towards the front, shoulders squared in hopes of expressing that I was in no mood to take his shit.

Once I crossed into the lobby, I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw what he held in his hands, my face immediately contorting with disgust. "Steven, what are you doing?" I spit, folding my arms across my chest. "I wanted to apologize for—” I hold up a hand, cutting him off. "Don't. Get out." "Liv, please," he begs, holding out the small bouquet of flowers towards me. "I overstepped that night and I just wanted to smooth things over. Start fresh, a new clean slate."

He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing distinctly when I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head at him. Did he think I'd just sweep everything under the rug for a bundle of cheap flowers from the corner store? This man was nothing to me; it was no sweat off my back if I never laid eyes on him again. He wasn't anything other than some change in my pocket, even more so after his actions at the bar.

"You must be joking. Right?" He fidgets, shifting his weight from one foot to the other apprehensively. "No, I really am sorry, Liv," he tries again, his eyes searching mine for forgiveness. I snorted, "That's great. And I really meant it when I said to never step foot in my bakery again." He lowers the flowers, pulling his brows together. "Over a stupid kiss, really?" His whole demeanor had changed, his voice growing strong as he scowled at me.

My blood began to simmer hearing those words come out of his mouth. "A stupid kiss?" I repeated, jerking my head back while my brows rose in astonishment. "It's not about the kiss, Steven. You crossed boundaries, you humiliated me in front of all those people!" "I humiliated you? It's not my fault you can't handle your liquor—” "Get the fuck out!" I shouted, pointing a now trembling finger at the front door. I grit my teeth when he doesn't so much as move a muscle. "I swear to God, Steven if you don't get out right this second—" "What? What are you gonna do, huh?" He opens his arms wide, taking a step towards me. "Gonna slap me and run away again?"

Rage was coursing through my veins as my hands balled into fists at my sides, my arms quivering with adrenaline. I wanted nothing more than to sock him in the face, but I couldn't do that. Not in my place of work. Instead, I clenched my teeth as we locked eyes and took a few deep breaths, hoping to suppress my anger.

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, exhaling deeply one last time. "Please just get out. I will call the police, and have you escorted if you don't," I tell him as calmly as possible. "You're a cunt," he scoffs. "Can't even accept a simple apology without putting up a fight. No wonder your husband spends all his time on his music to get away from you." My eyes snapped open from his words just as he whipped the flowers in my direction—I barely had enough time to bat them away. "Oh, you motherfucker," I hissed, shaking my head in disbelief. "Get the fuck out!" I hollered, planting my hands on his chest and giving him a hard push towards the door.

His words lit the fire I tried so hard to snuff out. I kept shoving him, getting more aggressive with each push while tears began to burn my eyes. I kept shoving him until one of the girls wrapped her arms around my torso and pulled me back, allowing him to shoot one last profanity towards me before exiting the building. I watched him saunter away, shaking his head while he went, my chest heaving as I tried to ground myself.

"Are you okay?" I realized that it was Juliana who pulled me back. I nodded, huffing in aggravation once more before wriggling out of her grasp. "I'm okay," I assure her, wiping under my lashline to hinder the tears that were still burning my eyes from spilling. "Excuse me," I mumbled, heading back to my office. I shut the door and collapsed into the computer chair, my head hanging off the back.

No wonder your husband spends all his time on his music to get away from you.

I tried my damnedest to not let his words affect me, but they cut deep. Things had been great with Noah this past week, and I knew things were fine between us, yet I couldn't keep myself from thinking that maybe Steven was right. I had been confined in the bus with Noah for a week; he had no choice but to give me his attention—things could easily go back to the way they had been beforehand.

And that thought made my chest tight, it made my heart sink to the pit of my stomach. I did not want to go through that pain again, feeling as if I were insignificant to him. I did not want to succumb to the loneliness that I felt and slip down that rabbit hole again. I just simply couldn't.

I covered my face with my hands and let out a deep groan, scrubbing my cheeks in frustration. This was not how I intended my first day back to work to go. All I wanted to do was go home and have a drink to calm myself down or to forget what just happened—whichever came first. But I didn't. I took some deep breaths, tacked on a fake smile, and did what I had to do.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. It was slower than usual, but the customers that came in were pleasant. I was able to bake a few trays of macaron shells, ready to be finished being put together tomorrow morning.

I had just stepped through the door when my phone started to ring in my back pocket, and I knew that it was Noah. With a smile, I placed my belongings on the kitchen island and accepted the call.

"Do you have cameras on me or something?" I greet him sarcastically. "Well, hello to you, too," he chuckles on the other end. "No...but should I? Are you doing something I shouldn't see?" He muses. "No, no," I say as I cross over into our bedroom, flipping on the light. "I literally walked through the door just as you called." "Damn, for a second I thought maybe you were parading around in some new lingerie. Or, better yet, nothing at all." I can hear the smirk that I'm sure was plastered on his face.

I rolled my eyes with a small chuckle, tucking my phone between my shoulder and ear as I opened the closet and pulled out the nearly overflowing laundry basket. I cringed, regretting that I left this for when I came back instead of doing it before I left for the week.

"Anyways, how was work?" "Oh, you know, work," I sighed, putting him on speaker so that I could exchange my work clothes for sleepwear. "It was fine." "Just fine?" I shrugged as if he could see me, "Yeah. It was slow, did some baking. Nothing to write home about." "You sure about that? 'Fine' usually means it wasn't fine." He presses. I plopped down onto the bed with another sigh, bringing the phone back to my ear. "I had to kick someone out this morning, that's all." "Mmm, there's something you're not telling me." He doesn't ask; he states.

I didn't really want to get into my altercation with Steven, but I knew better than to avoid telling Noah about it. He had a sixth sense for this shit, I swear, and he wouldn't stop pestering me until I cracked. I huffed, combing my bangs back with my hand. "It was the same guy from that night." He lets out an aggravated breath. "Are you alright? He didn't try to pull some shit again, did he? I swear—" "No, Noah, relax. He just came in to apologize." "Then why did you have to kick him out?" He retorts. I rested my elbow on my knee, planting my forehead in my hand. "I got mad," I tell him simply. He scoffs, "Mad about what? That he apologized?" "No, I'm not mad that he apologized—" "Then why did you get mad?" He snips, his voice rising.

His tone was starting to aggravate me, his impatience getting under my skin. There was no reason for his hostility, especially since he wouldn't let me finish my damn story. When he finally let me get my word in to explain the exact reasoning for kicking Steven out, he asked me if I had a drink, which in of itself wasn't a big deal. It was the tone of how he asked, and the insinuation in his response when I truthfully told him that I didn't.

"What's gotten into you tonight? You don't trust me to stay sober while you're not around?" I laughed incredulously, my blood now set to a boil. "No, I just worry about you, Olivia." I rolled my eyes again—this was not the action of someone who was simply worried about me. Something was causing him to behave this way, and I'm not sure what it was, but it needed to stop.

We remained silent. I was too pissed to say anything, and I'm sure he was trying to find something to say to ease the tension. I stood to resume my task of doing laundry and picked up my bag from this past week, beginning to toss all the clothes into the hamper aggressively. When I tossed the last article of clothing into the basket, I heard something bounce and land on the floor with a soft thump.

I stared at the familiar shimmer of black titanium with uncertainty, my stomach churning. "Can I ask you something?" I broke the silence, bending down to pick up his wedding ring. "Why exactly do you wear a single glove on your left hand?" I twiddled the ring between my fingers as if to make sure that it was real and not some figment of my imagination. "I don't know," he mumbles. "Thought it was a cool look." I pursed my lips into a fine line, nodding slowly with disbelief. "Huh, okay. Not trying to hide the fact that you're not wearing your wedding ring from me, right?"

He sighs harshly, having me pull the phone away from my ear from the sudden noise. "Olivia, you're being ridiculous. Why the fuck would I do that?" "You tell me. I just found your ring in my shit while starting the laundry. Kinda convenient, don't you think? Now that I'm not there with you, you take it off," I let out a dry laugh. "What are you trying to say?" "I'm not saying anything," I shrug once again. "Just seems like you're trying to give off the impression that you're not married, is all." "I took it off so I don't lose it, Liv," he barks. "And I put it in your bag because you were going home." "Why wouldn't you just hand it to me, then?" I snapped, slamming it down on the nightstand. "Olivia, please. I can't deal with this right now. You're being fucking ridiculous." The line went dead before I could get in another word.

My heart plummets to the pit of my stomach, and tears roll down my cheeks almost instantaneously. I couldn't fucking breathe; my chest felt so tight as I tried not to break into a fit of hysterics.

Maybe I was overthinking it, maybe he really did want his ring in a safe place, but it all just seemed too convenient. And this behavior was not like him. Being assertive was one thing, but to accuse me of drinking, followed by hanging up on me because he 'can't deal with this right now' was a whole other level. Forget about being insignificant, that just made me feel unworthy.

I wasn't thinking clearly as I screamed and whipped my phone into the wall, and I most certainly wasn't thinking when I slipped on a hoodie and grabbed my keys, slamming the door behind me when I left.

|Chapter 11|