#let me know if I should keep going for part two

[pork-pop]

DON’T MAKE ME BEG FOR YOU!

✧ the girl of his dreams is throwing him a bone…is he feigning nonchalance or acting a fool?!

contains: gojo, geto, nanami || cw: p in v sex (unprotected), oral (f. receiving), like a hint of hair pulling for suguru, mentions of masturbation || wc: 1.7k~

✧ a/n: i am half asleep right now if there’s a typo just come to my home and take me out before i wake up! cheers. srry nanami’s ended up kinda shorter than the others oopsie daisy.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI!!!

SATORU GOJO

acting a fool is an understatement

Satoru is terrible at the art of subtlety, and to most, making one’s intentions blatantly clear to the person they’re interested in might seem mortifying. But that’s been Satoru’s goal since the start. Those lingering touches, the flirtatious glances and suggestive comments were all done in stride, after all, he takes pride in the fact that he’s getting what he wants. You, however, have been the hardest shell to crack. So, naturally, he’s utterly whipped. 

He can hardly believe his luck when you choose to reciprocate after months of cat and mouse, and he has no choice but to lay out all of his chips and double down. 

For someone who was raised to be a gentleman, he sure does know how to get your clothes on the floor without any manners at all. As soon as you’re blessing him, deepening the kiss, his wandering hands are tugging at your blouse for permission to show you how much he’ll work for it. 

“Isn’t this a treat?” He pants humorously between thrusts, fucking into you like he’ll know he’ll find the answers to all of his intrusive questions regarding you if he just gets an inch or two deeper. Satoru hisses as you tighten around him, “You gonna keep talking or are you gonna fuck me harder?” you snicker. And you should know that there’s nothing Satoru loves more than a good challenge; getting you like this wasn’t the challenge he’d most anticipated, no, it was making you crave it just as much as he did. 

“Is that an invitation?” He asks, a big grin twisting at the corners of his lips while he inches a hand down to thumb teasingly at your clit, “You know, I’ve been thinking about you saying that for a while now, don’t you?” In spite of his stamina, Satoru’s breath is ragged and shaky, could it be that he was even a bit…nervous? You didn’t have the time to put much thought into it before his hips speed up, knocking every one of those pretty suspicions out of your head for the time being. Your eyes roll back and you swear you can hear a triumphant little huff of a laugh from him as he takes that as inspiration to roughen the circles he’s drawing against your clit. 

“I’ve been thinking about what you’d sound like when you cum, too,” he admits without a shred of shame, nosing into the tender column of your throat so you can hear him better, “Can I hear?” “Fuck!” Is all you can manage through a strangled cry, clawing at the shifting muscles of his back in a futile attempt to ground yourself. “C’mon, I can tell you’re getting close,” he rasps madly, “I wanna hear you.” He begs, suddenly licking a greedy stripe along the dampened skin of your neck. 

And who are you to deny him? You cry out a declaration of your sudden orgasm, features squeezed and mouth parted as you struggle to catch your breath. Satoru stares at you with widened eyes, and a stuttered breath, “Hah-...” He hadn’t even realized how close he’d been getting to spilling inside you, but welcomed the overwhelming feeling with open arms. He could go for five more rounds if you’d let him, anyways. 

God, this must be what it’s like to hit the jackpot. 

SUGURU GETO

nonchalant (acting a fool)

Suguru can’t lie to himself and pretend like he hadn’t imagined this scenario too many times to count before, usually as a desperate last resort when he’d found he can’t imagine getting off to anything other than the thought of you at a certain point. He’s sure that he’s a better man than this, and he’d certainly tried to be courteous and discrete about the way you make him feel, shying away from the line he’s been dreaming to cross. 

But now, sitting up on the mattress and unable to tear his eyes away from your tits, he realizes that he’d been overshooting the strength of his own resolve. Suguru surges forward, taking one in his mouth as he guides you up and down his length, doing anything he can to prove he’s still being normal about this. Fuck it. 

“Fuck,”  he moans against your chest, “wait a minute-...” You still your movements, tilting your head curiously at him as he swallows breathlessly, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” He quickly reassures with a shake of his head, gently squeezing at your hips to punctuate the promise, “God, nothing’s wrong at all, I just need-...let me eat you out. Please?” You blink at him in surprise, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Huh?” 

“Seriously, I-...” He shakes his head, gazing up at you like you’re the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen, “it’s all I’ve been thinking about.” 

During those moments in the past in which he found himself fucking his fist to the thought of you, he only ever found himself relishing in the idea of burying himself between your legs and making careful sure that the only thing you’d be capable of saying was his name. The both of you had been too hasty in the wake of realizing your feelings were reciprocated, too desperate to give each other everything you’d been dreaming of. It feels like the heavens have opened up before him as you slip off of his lap, letting him situate you against the pillows. 

Suguru’s methodic in the way he trails warm kisses down your body, stopping to suck a mark into your hip, but he can’t tease for too long, not when he probably wants to get you off on his tongue more than you want it (which is saying a lot). 

He kisses your bare cunt gratefully, before dragging his tongue against your entrance, eyelids already going heavy as he slips into a euphoric trance. Suguru tries his very hardest to keen on every noise you make, every cry of his name, but it’s hard to do that when he’s getting so drunk off the flavor of you. He’s suddenly starved, devouring you completely, too far gone to be embarrassed of the way he shakes his head against your pussy or moans just as loud as you do. 

Geto’s suspicions had been utterly correct. While he’s been eager to have you like he did moments before, to feel you wrap around him and to fuck up into you with calculated thrusts, this definitely takes the cake. He grows dizzy off your scent, grinding against the mattress to prevent himself from further losing his mind over the prospect of what he’s doing right now. 

You lace your hands through his hair, pulling at it as he brings you closer to the edge. This is all he needs, he thinks, he can easily be fine spending the rest of his life like this. Suguru wants to prove that much over and over again to you, and he won’t hesitate if you’ll let him. “You’re perfect.” He mumbles against your cunt, and he’s partially glad you’re too far gone to hear some of the pathetic remarks he’s uttering, “Need this so bad.”

Yeah, good luck hopping back on his dick anytime soon now that he knows he was right about how addicting you’d be. 

KENTO NANAMI

nonchalant by a thread

It’s easy for Kento to have steel-grade self control when you’re fully clothed and the conversation is tame. But when clothes are taken out of the equation, well, that’s a different story. That being said, he won’t forget his manners. 

You’re in a tender mating press, smiling softly at the sweet kisses Nanami keeps peppering across your face, and occasionally one to your lips. He briefly wonders why he ever thought it was a good idea to hesitate in taking the initiative to have you laid out against his pillows like this, moaning his name almost as if you knew how much that chipped away at his own self-preservation. You’re dangerously close to getting him to embarrass himself. 

“Do you like this?” He breathes against the shell of your ear as his pace speeds up a bit, knocking the wind out of you. Regardless, you nod, hardly able to wrap your lips around anything other than the shape of his name. Kento bites his lip, fighting the urge to go even faster. This was your first time together, after all, he’d be mad not to cherish it like something fleeting and sacred. He wants more, he wants this all the time, and he’s so close to begging you for it. In some last attempt of self-preservation, he utters, “You feel amazing,” almost choking on his breath after the fact. 

“Fuck, keep doing that.” You cry out, throwing your head back to give him a clear view of your throat that he so desperately wishes to mark up. He almost asked what you meant, before he peers down, realizing he’d mindlessly begun rubbing circles into your clit. Kento feels like he’s getting ahead of himself, yet not doing enough at the same time; this feeling is so foreign and overwhelming, but he’s falling in love with it. 

Following your orders, he continues his steady pace on your clit, mouth going dry as you tell him how close you are. Yes, please, that’s all I want to hear. 

“Please,” he murmurs in a gravelly voice, not realizing he’d started voicing his own thoughts, “cum for me.” Nanami is certain he’s going to lose control any moment, and he’s sure that you cumming around his cock is not going to help him at all in his hope to still be a gentleman to you. It’s alright, though, he thinks. If he’s going to embarrass himself, lose all resolve and allow himself to drown in this simple pleasure, Kento doesn’t think he’d want to do it with anyone else but you.

[boyfhee]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤCAT & MOUSE ，yjw

𝗘𝗣 𝗢𝟭 ❛ 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗀𝗈 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖾, 𝗂 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎.　❜

𝗦𝗧★𝗥ㅤㅤ’ ㅤ 𝑓𝘪𝘭𝘮────flirty neighbour jungwon x fem readerㅤㅤ❀ㅤㅤteasing, skinship, reader is described as someone shortㅤ 2O4Oㅤ REQUESTED

jungwon has been waiting.

with squinted eyes and frequent sighs, clock ticking on the wall and yet, he checks the one on his wrist every minute. his patience runs thin with every tick of the second hand that is in synchrony with the tap of his foot.

a minute passes. then another.

he gives up.

“you should get down and let me do that,” there’s an edge to his voice, one laced with irritation.

“i can do it—” and you speak of determination as you reach out for the bulb on your ceiling, only to miss it by a brush of your fingers. “—shit,”

it’s all out of spite.

you’re not half interested in talking to your very hot neighbour and asking him to change the fused bulb. it simply slipped out of your lips and jungwon, being the lovely guy next door he is, waltzed inside your apartment as if it belonged to him.

the light is barely within your reach and his eyes are going back and forth between you and the stool, afraid you might fall. “your stubbornness is going to land you in a hospital,”

you shoot him a glare from your periphery. “i said, i can do it!”

worse, he shouldn’t have undermined your ability to change light bulbs, despite your height, or rather the lack of it— as he says it— because now you’re set on doing it yourself.

you’re not that short, never felt it until jungwon moved in next door with his habit of patting your head every time you pass by, until he started leaning down to hear you talk knowing well he isn’t much taller than you.

it’s all his fault.

“get down. i’ll—”

“if you keep your mouth shut, i might actually be able to focus,” you cut him off sharply, barely balancing yourself on your tippy toes over the wobbly stool that’s supported by his hands.

just a little bit more.

and you aim to reach higher, extending every single muscle in your limbs if it’s even mortally possible. almost there, and then like a wisp of air, his arm wraps over your legs, the other holding your waist securely, bringing you down to the floor as if you weigh nothing.

“i almost did it, idiot!”

he scoffs at your whines, the huff in your cheeks and at the way your brows furrow in annoyance. “yeah, i’ve been seeing that for the last thirty minutes,”

the proximity between you two doesn’t even cross your mind until his arm tightens around your waist and he effortlessly moves you to the side in one swift motion.

he pushes you down gently against the nearest chair, taking a good few seconds to look at your pretty face. “you look mad,”

and it’s like he is stating the obvious. “i am mad. i would have done it on my own if you hadn’t interrupted,”

he huffs at your insistence, half annoyed half admiration. there’s that bark in your words even when you’re sitting with his hands on the arm rest, caging you in between. “give it up, shorty,”

you squint your eyes. “shut up,”

“make me,” he bends closer, head hanging dangerously low for your sanity and his too, in fact. you look attractive when you’re mad. “make me shut up,”

you want to wipe that shit eating grin off his face, to strip him off that facade and make him feel out of place just the way he does to you. your eyes move down to his lips that are slightly parted, almost invitingly.

it would be crazy to kiss him. you can do it— you shouldn’t, but then you gulp, gravitating towards him on your own, slow, hesitant, with a tilt in your head.

“oops!” and he backs off with a laugh, hands up in the air almost mockingly. he stands up on the stool to fix the light, acting ever so smug and insufferable. “duty calls,”

although, you don’t miss the way his ears turn red.

[reminiscingthesea]

Part three of yandere stalker Phainon x nerdy reader !!

A/N- i don’t know how many times I’m gonna say this, but ty guys sm for all the support and love ive been receiving under comments!! I really enjoy reading them!!

Part 1 and part 2!:

Warning- Contains smut, reader is inexperienced, insecure thoughts, foul language, manhandling, AFAB reader

.

.

.

It had been some time since that incident, and it was safe to say, you were truly shaken to your core. Luckily, your boyfriend best friend Phainon was here to help keep yourself safe during such difficult times. He walked with you to your lectures, even if it meant being late to his, he accompanied you whenever you went out, especially at later hours, he messaged you everyday, asking things like how you were, what you ate, if he needed to come over, if you needed a cry or a laugh. The two of you spent hours on the phone, too. Going to sleep on call and waking up to burning hot phones and a time reader that read- “7:46:50”- He was truly too good for you, and it made you doubt yourself. Did he truly like you? Was he still giving mixed signals? Was he doing this out of the kindness of his heart, or because he felt as though he had a duty to as your best friend?

.

.

“.. Phainon, you’re too good to me- taking me out to dinner at such an expensive restaurant and not letting me pay you back? I really don’t deserve this, your kindness..” You spoke timidly, keeping your eyes down on your plate of delicious, well seasoned food- which was lobster Thermidor with a side of cute, buttery bread buns that were oh-so soft. You felt a small rush of heat dust onto the skin of your cheeks as Phainon gently interlocked his hand with yours from the other end of the table, leaning his head down to get a glimpse of your face, a small, loving smile gracing his lips.

“C’mon, don’t say that.. we’ve grown so close together over these past few months, and it’s nearly the end of the semester, you know I like treating you to nice places for dinner.” He spoke softly, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb, before continuing. “I like treating my closest to dinner, and you’re very close to me, [Name]. Never forget that.”

You looked at him with slightly widened eyes now, taking in his deep words. Was this his way of confessing his love for you? No, it couldn’t be. Phainon treats all of his friends to lunch and dinner, but not normally at a price like this..

“I don’t know what to say, Phainon.. I’m so, so grateful to you, you’ve helped me so much. But please listen to me. Don’t waste your time on someone like me. You deserve someone better, prettier, outgoing- I just make things awkward between us since I’m not as chatty with you, I..” Sighing shakily, you looked at him with tears welling in your eyes. “Just please, tell me how I could ever repay you.. you’ve saved my life countless of times, I’m truly indebted to you..”

Phainon looked back at you with an equally as sad look, he looked like a kicked puppy who was left in the rain by its owner.

“I understand that such traumatic events will alter your view on your worth, make you feel bad about yourself. But [Name], when I tell you that you truly mean so much to me, I mean it. You don’t have to believe me right now, but I’ll wait. Albeit, sadly. But as long as it takes, I’ll wait.” How he wanted to confess to you right then and there on the spot, but he himself had his own doubts that he just couldn’t wrap his head around as to why he had them.. he had removed every obstacle in his way- your bullies, Mydei, danger- and had your trust and respect for him. So why now was he so hesitant? Was all of this for nothing? Was he worried you’d reject him due to your beliefs on how he’s too good for you?

Even then though, he had a small thought at the back of his head that told him ‘Don’t confess, and you’ll only hurt her more.’

You could only nod and carry on with the rest of your dinner, a somber, dejected look on your face, and he copied too. The rest of your dinner was awkward to say the least. Neither of you looked each other in the eyes, only sneaking quick glances when the other wasn’t looking, nor did the two of you talk, until the bill came- to which Phainon paid the whole sum of 10,500 credits, as you gave him a pouty look from across the table.

As the two of you walked out and begun making your ways back to campus, you clutched his wrist delicately.

“Phainon. I promise to pay you back, okay? Just don’t reject it, please..”

To this, Phainon could only laugh quietly and turn to face you fully. ‘You could pay me back with your love’ he thought to himself as he began speaking.

“Oh, fine. Since you’re so stubborn and such a sweetheart, I’ll let you pay me back. But! At a discounted price of 50% off. I don’t make the rules.”

You sputtered slightly and shook him, shaking your head.

“50%?! I can’t pay you back only 50% of the money you spent on me today!” You exclaimed, a crazed expression on your face as you tried to get him to change his price to a higher one.

“Oh? 50% isn’t a good enough percentage? Oh fine, since you’re such a good negotiator, I’ll let you pay me a maximum of 25%! A minimum of 0%, is allowed though.” He teased lightly, winking and grinning as he saw your face morph into a more frustrated one.

Suddenly, you shoved a bunch of credits to his chest and grabbed his hands to clutch them

“Look. I wanna do something nice for you to pay you back. I won’t let you win this either- so just take the credits and this’ll all be over.” You concluded confidently, as the pair of you reached your campus’ entrance and walked right in. You had a dead-set, stubborn look on your face as you walked back to your dorm, and Phainon could only laugh in adoration as he stuffed the credits into his wallet.

“Oh alright fine! You win! I’ll stop ruffling your feathers and let you pay me back tenfold. But just know, I’m gonna be spending even more money on you next time! And ah-ah-ah! Don’t even think about taking it as an opportunity to pay me back even more, I won’t let it happen!” He declared loudly in the otherwise empty hallway besides the two of you standing outside your dorm room. ‘He’s so perfect..’ you pondered to yourself quietly, before flashing him a small, sweet smile. But there was a hint of sadness behind it, and Phainon saw.

But before Phainon could talk to you further, you quickly said your goodbyes and waved him off, before disappearing into your dorm room.

Phainon stood there, an unreadable look on his face as he stared at the now closed door in front of him. How badly he wanted to break that door down and make you love him just as he loved you. But he simply, couldn’t bring himself to do so.

How pathetic of him.

.

.

.

Sitting at his desk, he opened his computer screen to monitor your activities through the camera in your room. It was something he hadn’t done as often as before, considering how much closer the two of you became over these last few weeks. Though, he made a mental note to sneak in another camera from a different part of your room, just for better… angles. The mirror might be a good option!

However, the sight that absolutely blessed his dirty little eyes of faux purity, was truly a sight to behold.

It was you, on your bed, with nothing but a shirt on. Your panties were long discarded on the floor, and so too was your bra, assuming it was the soft blue pair of underwear laying on the floor just a few meters from his bed.

Immediately, blood rushed to his cock as he pulled it out from his shorts, quickly rubbing his hand up and down over its generous length, his thumb gently teasing his tip, the same way he gently rolled it against the back of your hand before. His mouth agape, eyes lidded as he continued watching the footage reverently.

But what got him really going, was when you brought two fingers to your pussy, which he obviously couldn’t see considering the camera’s placement on your headboard behind your bed. But it had an elevated view, so he saw how the two fingers gently eased their way into your cunt slowly, whilst your thumb teased at your clit.

“F-fuck..! fuck, so- mmghh…” You moaned softly, rocking your hips to no specific beat, as your finger on your bud worked harder to provide more stimulation. But after a few moments, your loving moans turned into whines and whimpers of frustration and sadness. Phainon, who was edging himself to hear your moans, heard this change, causing a pout to adorn his gracious face.

“Oh, [Name].. you must be having so much trouble trying to please yourself… if only I was th-“

“If only you were here, Phainon… you’d make me feel so good….”

Oh.

oh.

To this, Phainon immediately stood up from his desk, eyes widening and face flushing. The shock was enough to send him over the edge, cum spewing onto the table in front of him. He bent over the table, his head tilted upwards to look at his computer’s screen as you continued your strings of moans of pleasure, but also sadness. He began rubbing his cock, now hot, sticky, and even harder, much faster now, your moans and his creating a beautiful symphony.

Finishing with a gasp, he buried his face in his arms, breathing heavily. However, you were still touching yourself, moaning weakly, trying to reach your peak of pleasure like the guy behind the camera, but nothing.

“..Poor [Name].. unable to please herself without my guidance?..” He whispered softly to himself, slowly getting up to his full height and looking down at the computer screen of you pathetically trying to please yourself, whilst also murmuring degrading comments about yourself in the process.

“Nobody gets to hurt what I love. Not even yourself.. I will show you my love for you, [Name].. I’ve been stupid enough to deprive you of it for so long…” His fingers gently caressed your form on his computer screen, a hint of sadness behind them.

He knew what he had to do. He had to show you his soaring love for you, a love that knew know bounds, a love that he starved of you by his own insecurities. He hurt you, and he was going to change that.

He began cleaning his desk.

.

.

You sobbed pathetically into your pillow, you couldn’t do it. God, you were so bad at everything, even at pleasing your own cunt. You couldn’t even do it yourself, you needed someone- someone who you probably doesn’t even like you-. Feeling the wetness of your cunt beneath your ass now, you let out a shaky sigh, on the verge of bursting into even louder cries of frustration and disappointment.

Amidst your tantrum, you heard loud, firm knocks on your dorm room’s door. Scrambling to get your clothes back on, you messily made it to the door, not caring about your appearance besides having some clothes on. Your hair was a mess, your face was flushed and wet with tears, your lips and legs quivering as you opened the door to see Phainon.

“P-Phainon- I’m sorry I don’t look good-“

“Let me in, [Name]. We need to talk.”

He pushed himself past you as you closed the door, before his hand met your wrist and pulled you close to him, pinning you against the wall near a table. Your vision became blurry as your eyes darted across the room in shock. Phainon’s hand cupped your face, turning it to face him fully as he spoke.

“I’ve held this for too long. [Name], I love you. I’ve loved you this entire time. And I know you love me too, you were just too scared to say it. Ever since… ever since we met, I’ve always thought about you, the things we’d do together as a couple. Kisses, romantic dates, cute things.. I need you. And you need me too. You’re perfect for me, and I’m perfect for you.” His voice was quiet and husky as he spoke, his face so close to yours, your lips almost touching his as he spoke. Your eyes widened, tears brimming in them once more, your mouth agape.

“Ph..Phainon.. I love you- I love you so much- you don’t know how happy I am to hear this I-“ Without thinking, you crashed your lips against his, capturing him in a soft kiss. You’ve never kissed anyone before, but this felt right, as he reciprocated just as fervently. Phainon then deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he pinned you harder against the wall, his knee coming up between your legs, his hand tangling into your hair.

You could only moan softly in response as you grinded needily, helplessly, against his knee, seeking the pleasure you’ve been so starved of all this time. With a few deep gasps of air from you and him, his mouth took refuge on your neck, his head burying in the crook of it as he mouth began sucking and leaving large love marks on the soft skin.

“Gonna show you my love for you, yeah? Gonna fuck it into you for being such a good girl and waiting all this time for me..” He picked you up off the floor, your arms wrapping around his neck, as your legs wrapped around his waist, before carrying you back to your room.

He laid you down on your bed carefully, before peeling your clothes off, one by one. His touch was worshipping, reverent, his eyes never leaving yours. He smiled softly to himself as he took your pants off, breaking his gaze with yours as he glanced at your panties, the same light blue ones that were discarded on the ground just a few minutes ago.

As he peeled off your panties, revealing your glistening cunt to him, he threw it aside, along with the rest of your discarded clothes on the floor besides the bed. He took his shirt off, making way for his muscular, defined torso and body. You swore you saw stars in that moment, heat creeping up onto your face as your hand unconsciously lifted up to caress the firm skin there. Phainon chuckled, breaking you out of your stupor.

“Like the view?” He teased playfully, a smug, but loving grin on his face as your eyes met with his once more. He lightly took your hand and interlocked it with his, before coming back down on you and kissing you softly, his hair tickling your cheeks as he did so. Whilst you were so caught up with the kiss, you didn’t catch his free hand running up your thigh, creeping near towards your ever growing, wet pussy, teasing the sensitive flesh around it.

You squirmed as his toned, but slim fingers began teasing the entrance of your cunt’s hole, almost rimming it with the pad of his fingers, before gently siding them in.

“Phainon!~” You gasped sweetly, holding onto his hand tighter as his fingers worked their magic within the gummy walls of your hole. Your hips jerked slightly as his thumb rubbed the ever-so sensitive bud of your clit in circular motions. He smirked to himself as he felt your walls tighten so nicely around his fingers, it almost made him cum again, as he thought of how much tighter you’d wrap yourself around his needy, greedy cock later on. But he had to prepare you first. After all, what’s love without passion and care?

His fingers then began increasing the speed of their thrusts, curling up gorgeously within you, hitting such sweet spots, making you squirm and whimper in pure pleasure. Tears began flooding the shape of your eyes once more, moans being robbed from your throat as his thumb worked even quicker ministrations against your clit. The knot deep within you grew tighter, so so tight, about to snap- until his fingers curled deeply and hitting a sensitive spot in you- before you moaned his name loudly- squirting and coming undone right then and there, all over his hand.

You saw white for a few moments, your gaze glassy as you came back to reality through Phainon’s hand gently stroking your arm.

“Look at you.. so needy and desperate for me.. you squirt like a whore, but you seem inexperienced” He mused to himself, basking in how your expression changed from pure ecstasy to embarrassment and slight shame.

“I am inexperienced, so what? You think someone like me’s gotten game before..?” You replied hastily, a slight bite behind your tone as you spoke, to which, Phainon only smiled apologetically.

“I’m not shaming you, I’m more than honoured to be your first. I’ll never let you forget this.”

He pulled his fingers out, which were now coated in your secretions and slick, before licking them clean, ravishing the taste. Then, he pressed a chaste kiss against your cheeks and lips, as his head began pressing sweet kisses along your collarbones, going down, down, down, until his face was met with your sopping, heavenly pussy. He’s always wanted to taste you like this. Make you squirm in delight and pleasure as his tongue would work wonders against the skin of your beautiful cunt.

He didn’t wait for a response as he dived right in, his warm tongue coming out and rolling against your clit, making you jerk your hips up again in delight and satisfaction. He roughly held them down with his hands on each bone, before lifting your legs up over his shoulders for better access. He revelled in the way your thighs tightened around his neck, closing in as his tongue inserted itself into your dripping pussy’s hole, making quiet slurping noises against the flesh, bringing his hand back to stimulate your poor clit again. Your movements and squirms only made him eat you out quicker, more devoutly, aiming to please you and only you as you drew closer to falling over the edge.

“P-phainon- Phainon! I-I can fucking feel it I- please..” He could tell you were coming closer to the edge once more, and the ministrations of his tongue and fingers only quickened in response. Your hand gripped onto his pearly white locks tightly as you grew even closer to cloud nine. And then, with a sharp jerk of your hips against his head, you came all over his mouth with a loud cry, throwing your head back in delicious pleasure, your hips grinding against him as his tongue obediently lapped against your pussy, taking in all of your smooth, rich, sweet cum, coating his lips like lip gloss. He hesitantly pulled away from the comfort and warmth of your pussy and legs, carefully setting them back down on the bed, caging him in, his hand caressing the soft skin of your trembling thighs.

“You taste amazing.. you need a taste of yourself.” He whispered against your ear now, bringing his head up and kissing you again, your essence invading your tastebuds; a foreign taste.

“Phainon, wanna make you feel good too..” You spoke sweetly, getting up and pushing Phainon down into a sitting position. He moved to a side of your bed, as you got off and got onto your knees, beginning to remove his pants hastily.

“Someone’s desperate” He teased again, spreading his legs for your better access as you pulled his pants down, now staring at the giant bulge protruding through his boxers. You then pulled them down, before being met with his girthy, thick, big cock, which bobbed against his abs. In a nervous daze, you grabbed it with you hand softly, kissing the angry red tip that leaked sweet precum all over it.

“It’s really big..” You whimpered, slowly stroking his length, tightening your hand around it for more pleasure. Phainon laughed faintly, grabbing onto your hair, his grip tightening slightly as you jerked him off faster, his head lolling back a little.

“Gonna make you feel good too..” You promised, before slowly taking in his whole dick in your mouth, your cheeks puffing out from his great size, as it filled up your throat. With soft gags and moans, you began sucking him off, tightening your mouth and throat around him and bobbing your head up and down.

To this, Phainon moaned your name loudly, throwing his head back as he pushed his length further down your throat, pushing your head deeper, his grip on your hair becoming even stronger. Just as he dreamed, you looked up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes of yours as you’d suck him off, mouth full of him, your sounds of struggle and gags playing a part in sending him over the edge.

“Fuck.. you suck cock like a whore too, you’re so- fuck, ah~.. good at this, aren’t you? I’ll p-pay you back… tenfold-“ He uttered loudly as he was nearing his peak of pleasure. Feeling his cock pulsate in your throat, you tried sucking him off faster, until his thick, warm, gooey cum filled your mouth, to which you immediately gagged at, taking his cock out your mouth and gagging slightly. The taste wasn’t something you were used to, of course not. So as you coughed up the cum, Phainon lifted you up off your legs and onto his lap, rubbing your back as you coughed up.

“Shh.. you sucked me off so fucking good. Wanted to make me feel all good too? What a sweetheart, hm?.. You want my cock to fuck your sensitive, tight pussy? Yeah?” He continued praising you as he moved the two of you back to the head of the bed. He was now sitting beneath you as your hands met with the headboard above your bed, your face leaning right next to the camera there.

But he wasn’t worried about that right now, as your legs caged him by the his sides next to his hips, your pussy just above his cock.

“P-Phainon.. what if it doesn’t fit?” You asked worriedly, now taking in his full length with your eyes as you looked down at him and his cock, your eyes meeting his face, which had a look of love and affection painted onto it.

“You’ll be fine, you’ll take me in just good, y’hear?”

With enough reassurance, Phainon held your hips as you slowly, carefully, aligned your cunt’s entrance with the head of his cock, and gently lowered yourself onto it. You cried out as he stretched you out, feeling his whole size fill you up within a matter of seconds. And once you had fully engulfed his cock, you bottomed out, crying in pleasure, almost about to cum just from the feeling of his cock inside you.

“See, taking me like a champ. Now, start riding me, just move your hips like that- yes, fuck.. you’re so good…”

You rocked your hips, moving up and down on his cock, pants of pleasure coming out of your mouths, your own eyes rolling back at the pleasure as you rode him. You sped up your riding to let him cum quickly, still eagerly wanting to please him just as he did with you before. As he moaned in pleasure and held your hips with a bruising grip, he looked up at you with pure reverence and admiration in his eyes. The way your eyes rolled back, or closed in pleasure and determination, the way your hair fell over your face, the way you bit your lip in pleasure, trying to hold back your moans.

But he could see you were growing restless and tired as you bounced and rode him quickly, trying to make him feel good.

“Phai..non.. I’m so tired- I’m sorry- couldn’t make you feel good..” You sobbed pathetically, your voice soft as you sniffled in familiar frustration, the ache in your thighs and hips growing less dull and quiet, and more pronounced and intense.

At this Phainon shushed you gently, coaxing you to move a bit and change your position, so that you weren’t hunched over the headboard, and instead, sitting over him, cock stilled within you. He then, without a word, lifted you effortlessly by your hips, as if taking you off his cock, before slamming you right back down onto it, his tip now hitting the spongey sweet spot within you. You threw your head back in shock and surprise, a cry of pleasure ripping from your throat as tears ran down your cheeks, your mouth agape. But he wasn’t done, as he now kept moving you up and down manually on his cock, feeling his high coming back, as well as yours with how you tightened around him in the cuddling embrace of your slick, warm, gummy walls. Even louder moans and cries sounded from you, all the more desperate and pleasing as you both drew closer. His groans mixed with your cries like a hymn sung by the divine angels above.

Then, with a final upwards thrust of his hips into you, you collapsed over him, both of you cumming onto one another. He felt your warm cum coat his cock, as his own thick seed painted your walls comfortably. Panting against his chest, you couldn’t help but grind weakly against him in overstimulation and tire, moaning tiredly.

Phainon breathed out a sigh of relief and pleasure, before lifting your head up to look up at him.

“We’re not.. we’re not done yet. You’re gonna feel every last bit of my love for you, [Name].”

With that, he pulled out and flipped you over onto your back, so that you were beneath him once more. He grabbed your limp feet and put them over his shoulders as he inserted his dick into you once more, eliciting a loud moan from you in response. He interlocked his hands with yours as he fucked you like this, taking pure delight and pleasure in the way your face contorted into a bonny look of delectable bliss. Your tongue lolled out as your eyes rolled back yet again, sweet, pornographic moans ringing out from deep within your throat as he fucked you hard and fast. You truly could feel the love behind his hard thrusts as he hit you in all the right spots with his greedy, monstrous cock, which would elicit even louder moans from you. You cried out in even more overstimulating pleasure as you came again, shattering into pieces as he placed a soft kiss against your one of your ankles next to his head on his shoulder, making you squeeze around him like a glove.

And then, just as he was about to cum in you, he pulled out and spew his release all over your tits with a laugh, painting your pretty breasts with his load.

“Oh dear.. I’ve made such a mess, haven’t I? I’m so clumsy, let me clean it up for you..” He voiced, his tone mocking and playful as he leaned down and stuck his pink tongue out once more, before licking and sucking one of your nipples clean from his cum, fondling and tweaking the other with his other hand.

“A-ah!~ Haah..~ Phai- fuck!… Phainon please-!~” You sobbed out, unable to take even more pleasure and satisfaction as he sucked on your sensitive nipple, pulling it out with a satisfying ‘pop!’, creating a more reddish colour to its skin, before moving onto your other tit, licking it clean of his cum as you whined his name arousing-ly. It was all enough to make you cum again with an exhausted cry, your back arching upwards off the bed.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, [Name], my perfect girl.. love you so much, doll.. you tired now?..” He asked hotly against the shell of your ear again, peppering sweet kisses against the skin near it. Unable to speak properly, you simply nodded your head and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him down next to you on the bed, cuddling him and letting his warmth comfort you, as the smell of sweat and sex lingered in the air around you. But the two of you didn’t care at the moment, only holding each other, with Phainon spooning you and rubbing your sore legs.

After a while, you both came back to your senses from your dazes on cloud nine, looking at each other with love in your eyes.

“I love you, Phainon..”

You cupped his face in your hands, rubbing his cheeks and squishing them, making his lips pucker out. You kissed his silly looking lips, and Phainon could only smile in response.

“I love you too, [Name]. But right now, we have to clean ourselves up, we stink.” He joked lightly, his tone now taking up its more lighthearted and bright side. He giggled as you whined about being too tired and sore to move.

“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you, silly” He then picked you up delicately in a princess carry, taking you to your bathroom and setting you down on the edge of the bathtub, before turning the water on and filling it up with warm water. He then, with your permission, added in some of your bath soak- a sweet vanilla scent- and mixed it all in until the water turned all bubbly and pretty. Dipping you in first and following through, with a sigh of satisfaction at the warm water, he pulled you towards him and let the warm water soothe both of your aches and sore spots.

“Thank you..” You mumbled quietly, giggling as he started washing your hair for you with your bottle of shampoo, following suit with his own hair.

“You’re gonna smell like vanilla and strawberries once you get out of here, Phainon” You joked playfully, causing him to pinch your cheek softly

“I wouldn’t mind. At least I’d be able to have your scent all over me where ever I go”

Laughing quietly, you let him pamper you, massage the knots and kinks from your back and thighs as the two of you would wash each other. Each of you putting the other’s hair into a soft bun as the conditioner was added in.

“You look silly, Phainon” You giggled, seeing the tiny ball of sopping white hair sit atop his head due to him having shorter hair than yours.

“Only for you, my love” He responded, kissing the top of your head and tucking it into his chest as the two of you sat in the heat of the warm waters.

.

.

After some time, Phainon got out to clean up the mess you two had made on your bed- to which you protested until he’d simply shut you up with a kiss and tease you about how cold it was outside the water. Not before long, he came back into the bathroom with a towel around his waist, and another in his hand. Picking you up, he patted you dry with the towel, with teasing, lingering touches in some areas, and wrapping the towel around your form, leading you to your now spotless, fresh smelling room.

“Sorry, I don’t have any clothes for you..” You spoke ashamedly as he helped you dress up into some lighter clothes now, to which he only responded by smiling slightly.

“I’ll be fine with wearing my other clothes, unless, you want me to sleep naked?” He now had a smug little grin on his face, but you knew his words held no actual lust behind them as his eyes were full of a familiar kindness and love.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind the view, but I don’t want you waking up with a fever in the morning.”

And with that, you were both cuddling in your now cleaned bed with new sheets and all. He had his sweatpants on from before, as well as his shirt, and you had your comfy pajamas on. He spooned you as he did before, tucking your head under his chin in the crook of his neck as you drifted off slowly to the feeling of his soft, pink lips peppering sweet kisses all over your face, his legs and arms tangled with yours.

“I love you, [Name]. I’m so glad everything worked out in the end..” He breathed out, before succumbing to the land of dreams himself, feeling the nighttime air of the open window gently making its way in and cooling down your room.

You were all his now, as he has always been yours from the start.

[monicahar]

bark like you want it...?

in which you jokingly treat them like a pet.

characters; phainon, mydeimos, anaxagoras

— gender neutral reader, established relationships, fluff, sugestive at anaxa's part, need ts after the hellscape the current amphoreus is in andddd hi yes im back with a kinda fun idea and uhhhh yeah sleep pronto (*ﾟ▽ﾟ)ﾉ

It was supposed to be all fun and games. you'd say 'sit' and you'd expect him to raise a brow or two before whining about how you're treating him rudely. instead and very much contrary, the next second, PHAINON is immediately sat without question.

"well, you told me to sit!" is his meek excuse, turning red just as fast when you doubled over and laughed for a minute straight.

you think it's weird and cute. he thinks it's betrayal.

"is it so bad that i want to please you?" he says weakly whilst patting down his attire upon as he stood up straight, still burning up in sheer embarrassment. it's truly a sight to see someone as proud as him get shy. "as if it's my fault..."

you disregard his mutterings as you finally calm your giggles down, "to that extent, though? what if i asked you to bark? hm?"

phainon displays a waver in confidence, constructing his words carefully and said, "well, i'd do anything for you," he then slides you a sidelong look, one that's clearly not impressed. "even if it's something like... barking and sitting on command."

it looked like it pained him to say the last part.

still, you're unable to keep the corners of your lips at bay, genuinely elated at his response.

but unfortunately for him, there always has to be a catch when it comes to your very-easy-to-tease boyfriend...

so you let your lashes flutter, watching carefully as his smile grows a tad wary at your shift in demeanor.

"phainon... you sure you're not into this?"

the future leader of the chrysos heirs — your cute little snowy, explodes into another burst of red, looking as scandalized as you expected.

"wha — what is that supposed to mean?!"

his pouty expression makes him look like a kicked puppy now that you think more about it — of which reminds you the way he begs for attention and kisses, is eager to please, also likes your praise, and often sulks in a corner whenever you don’t... like a puppy.

the resemblance is almost uncanny. how amusing.

"maybe you were a dog in your past life,"

"..."

"..."

"...um, are you going to elaborate?"

you simply smile in return.

MYDEI stares like you'd slapped him across the face when you tell him to roll over.

"what?" you prod further when he doesn't say anything in response, "you shy or something?"

a glint appears in his eyes and you already know what he's going to say next.

"there's no such thing in the kremnoan langua —"

"mydei," you stare back, rid of all humor. he stares back, equally fiery. "roll. over."

you can practically see all the stages of grief flash in his eyes within mere seconds, weighing his options against you. you inspect your nails in an attempt to hide your anticipation. mydei is a wildcard if anything.

would he pretend he didn’t hear anything? probable. would he be mean about it? probable too. would he actually go along with it? pfft, yeah, and pigs would start falling from the sky —

to your most and utter horror, he starts lowering himself to the ground.

you shriek and stop him from continuing any further by grabbing a hold of his shoulders. (drool...) "hey, hey! i was kidding, you freak!"

"who are you calling a freak?" he snaps, not looking very intimidating as he's already kneeling down on one knee before you. "and i'm just following as you told me, am i not?"

"y-yeah but..."

he stands up, half-heartedly glaring you down. "i set aside my pride for your antics and you halt me. why?"

"it's more like why were you about to go along with something that's obviously said in jest..."

"hm. aglaea told me that you would often have weird tendencies and commands," he shrugs your hand off of his shoulder, "and that i should obey them without question if i want a... happy you. something ridiculous like that."

your jaw hangs open. mydei akwardly closes it shut. "you... you consult aglaea about... me?"

he gives you a weird look, "relationships, to be more exact. and why wouldn't i? you're a lot of work."

you deflate, "that's mean, mydei."

the proud chrysos heir shifts his footing, frowning at the air like it wronged him. his words are strained yet truthful, "i just... want to make you happy. that is all."

oh my.

you couldn't hold it any longer and proceed to jump him, whilst pigs do start falling from the sky.

it's pretty much established that ANAXA would yoink you out of the room should you decide to pull that on him during one of his lectures. in front of his students? yeah, you're grounded whether you liked it not.

though, it'd be a completely different story outside such settings...

currently sifting through scrolls sprawled out on his desk was the man of the hour himself, and having decided to accompany him in your free time — your boredom had long kicked in before the idea popped into your mind.

you approach him quietly, before placing your hand on top his head.

"who's a good boy?"

his gaze does not waver from the surface of his desk, but you do catch his contemplative expression freezing for a short moment.

"if you wanted a chalk to your face, you could've just said so."

how romantic. you really can't go a day without your loving boyfriend.

you beam at him, pretending like he hadn’t just threatened you with his 'teaching' gun tool. "that's not very good of you, anaxa. want me to punish you?"

"i believe you're acting up because you haven't gotten plentiful rest. be a dear and go back to your room, will you?"

"you want me gone?" you playfully pout up at him, finally earning his attention as he directs his gaze towards you — a brow raised. "you're being reallyyy bad, right now. i can't believe you'd kick me out just like that."

a sigh escapes anaxa. his singular eye opens to stare you down. you subconsciously gulp down your nerves. did you provoke him too much?

"unprofessional conduct by reffering to me casually during work hours, petting me like some dog and threatening to punish me... pranks like these shall not be tolerated." his eye twinkles in something akin to amusement, "i'll take care of you later."

the tension reaches a stalemate.

your brain short-circuits.

"uh, what do you mean by —"

"you know i dislike it when people ask questions they already know the answer to," as cryptic as ever, he spares you one last glance before returning his attention down to the scrolls laid upon his desk.

heeding his warning of sorts, you depart and stand outside his office — unmoving.

you seem to have brought upon yourself another day of being... unable to walk.

3.4 is taking forever...

[moondustbaby]

Made For Me

blue collar!Rafe x sahm!Reader

a/n: based on this request! 💌

cw: lactation kink, big boobie appreciation, soft dominance, postpartum body comfort, oral (f. receiving), fingering, praise kink, unprotected piv

mdni 18+

summary: Rafe comes home from work to find you tired and leaking through your nursing bra—but all he sees is how beautiful you are. With gentle hands and loving words, he shows you just how much he adores every part of you, especially the ones you feel most insecure about.

⸻

You’re folding laundry in nothing but your robe, half-open because it doesn’t quite fit your chest anymore. One side of your nursing bra is unclipped, and you keep forgetting to fix it—too tired, too distracted. You barely even notice the way milk slowly dampens the cup of your bra.

But Rafe notices.

He notices everything.

You hear his boots on the hardwood before you see him, the door creaking open as he walks in from work, cheeks flushed from the heat, Carhartt shirt sticking to his chest.

“Hey, baby,” he calls, eyes landing on you—and then his voice dips, goes all honeyed and low. “Damn.”

You glance up, flustered. “What?”

He drops his tool bag in the mudroom and walks in slow, his eyes locked on your chest like he hasn’t seen you in days, not just eight hours. “You know what that robe does to me,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss your cheek, then down your neck. “S’like you’re beggin’ me to come home and ruin you.”

You roll your eyes, but your body reacts anyway—hot under his gaze. “I didn’t even notice it was falling open.”

He runs a thumb gently under the edge of your bra, where the fabric’s gone damp. “Yeah, you did.” His voice drops to a whisper. “You’re leakin’, baby.”

Your cheeks flush. “I know. I meant to go pump after I finished—”

Rafe pulls the robe open the rest of the way. “Nah. Don’t pump.”

You blink, heart skipping. “Rafe—”

“Lemme have it.”

The way he says it—like it’s a craving, a need, not a request—makes your knees weak. He drops to his knees in front of you, big hands sliding up your thighs, pushing the robe off your shoulders so you’re bare from the waist up, swollen and sensitive and too full.

He looks up at you like you’re the sun. “These tits…” He groans softly. “Fuck, baby. Look at you.”

Your arms twitch like you should cover yourself, but he gently pushes them down.

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs, thumb brushing the underside of one heavy breast. “They’re so fuckin’ perfect. So big. Full. Made for me.”

You let out a shaky breath. “They make me look huge.”

“They make you look like a woman who carried my baby and feeds him with these pretty tits.” His voice is rough now. “You don’t look huge. You look hot.”

You whimper when he kisses the side of your breast, mouth warm and open. He flicks his tongue over your nipple, licking up a little spill of milk that escapes, and groans low in his throat like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

“God, baby,” he pants. “You know what this does to me.”

Your knees buckle, and Rafe guides you to the couch. He lays you back, mouth never leaving your chest. He palms your breasts, heavy and tender in his hands, then wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks.

Hard.

You gasp. “Rafe—”

“I’ll be gentle,” he says, mouth still on you, hand sliding between your legs to tug your panties down. “You just sit there and let me taste what’s mine.”

You’re so wet you can feel the air on your thighs when he spreads them. He slides two fingers through your folds, then sinks one in slow, just to tease.

“Already so fuckin’ wet down here,” he murmurs, kissing a wet trail across your chest. “So good for me.”

You arch under him when his fingers start moving—slow, firm, curling just right. But it’s the way he keeps suckling your breast, switching sides every few minutes, moaning every time he gets another rush of milk, that makes your eyes roll back.

“Rafe,” you pant. “That feels—oh my god—”

“I could stay right here all night,” he mutters, dazed with it. “My perfect girl, all swollen and drippin’ for me. Tastes so sweet, baby. Bet you’re just as sweet down here too.”

He trails kisses down your stomach, then licks a stripe between your legs before you can even form words. You jolt, fingers sinking into his hair.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he says, like it’s sacred. “You do so much, baby. Always takin’ care of everyone. Lemme take care of you now.”

He eats you like he means it—slow, reverent, with just enough filth to make you cry out. He never stops touching your breasts, even as he licks and sucks your clit, his hands full of you, massaging and squeezing and occasionally dropping back to your nipples for another taste.

Your thighs are shaking. “I’m gonna—Rafe, I’m—”

“Yeah, you are,” he growls. “Come on, babygirl. Give it to me.”

You come with a choked moan, trembling all over, his name tumbling from your lips as he licks you through it. He pulls away only to crawl up your body, kissing every inch as he goes. You can feel him hard against your thigh, straining in his jeans.

“Take it out,” you whisper, still dazed. “Wanna see you.”

He does—slowly, like a reward. His cock springs free, flushed and dripping. He watches your eyes go wide and grins, settling between your legs, stroking himself while cupping one breast again.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “My pretty girl. My perfect mama.”

You reach up to touch him, but he pins your wrist to the couch cushion. “No, baby. Not this time. You just lay there and take it.”

You whimper, legs falling open for him. “Please, Rafe—”

He lines himself up and pushes in—slow, deep, like he’s savoring every second. You both moan at the stretch, the way your body gives so easily for him.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You’re always so tight for me. So wet.”

He sets a steady pace, hips rolling while he bends down to kiss your breasts again, licking away more milk as it leaks from you, moaning like he’s drunk on it.

“You were made for this,” he pants. “Made to be mine. Made to carry our baby.”

Your whole body is burning—overstimulated, full, loved so deeply you could cry.

“Ray—oh my god—”

“Shhh, I got you.” He holds your leg up, angling deeper. “Gonna come with me, sweetheart? Gonna give it to me again?”

You nod, nails digging into his back. “Yes—yes—”

He groans your name, slamming into you harder, then stills as you both come—him spilling inside you, face buried in your neck, you shaking from the intensity.

Afterward, he kisses your chest one more time, softly now. “Still worried they make you look big?”

You laugh breathlessly. “Not when you talk to them like that.”

He grins, hands still full of you. “Can’t help it. These titties are heaven.”

a/n: this one goes out to the girlies with big boobies who just wanna feel hot, soft, and so loved—because Rafe sees those big tits and thinks: jackpot. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope it makes you feel as adored and worshipped as you deserve 🫶🏻

♥️ lani

Send Me Requests! 💌

Masterlist

𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉:

@lolabunnyworldss @superlegend216 @bonjourjiminie @rafesbabygirlx @raineshua @wolfcin04 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @angelofcigs

[hahaifolded]

hello!!!!!

I don’t know if this is a stupid or unnecessary ask but how would Kyle and the team react to Soap and Reader’s break up? Would they notice a difference since Soap wouldn’t be so happy and loud anymore? Maybe he would just whine and complain the whole time, and it happened too much that one of them pushed him to confess what happened (I would believe that to be Kyle since we called him and not the captain or such). I might be going off topic and beginning to rant right here, I am so sorry!!!! 🫶🏽

Enjoy this rough, continuation of Cellophane (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x POC!GN Reader

Warnings: MDNI, ANGST (racism), comparatively not as bad as the first part, Johnny still sucks however, mid-writing, abrupt ending Author's Note: You know what, I wasn't going to do a part two but I read this and boom... thoughts! Thank you for the ask, @shitaaba

Has the sun ever felt better on his skin? Gaz doesn’t think so.

What a perfect day! No early meetings or training. Sun is shining, the town isn’t too busy, and Kyle finally has time to hit that coffee shop you and Johnny showed him all those months ago. 

You and Johnny… what a beautiful couple. Well mostly you but Kyle will keep that to himself as he doesn’t need Johnny on his back for “fucking you with his eyes” again. His teammate sure is a lucky man, especially since Kyle isn’t a homewrecker, because if Gaz had his way, you’d be right next to h— 

“Ah!” Kyle quickly grabs at the poor soul that he smacked into. 

“Shit, so sorry. Are you ok… oh, it’s you!” he first apologizes then gleams. What a strange coincidence. Is this manifestation? 

You look up and immediately pull away from his grasp. Your eyes are wide as they wander for a quick getaway. “Don’t even worry about it. If you’ll excuse me,” you rush out as you side-step Kyle. 

Kyle blocks you and throws you a warm smile as an attempt to ease your embarrasment. “Woah, woah, why the rush? It’s been awhile. What, Johnny has you caged up?” Gaz laughs at his own joke. He thought that would for sure make you laugh. It doesn’t.

Your face falls, and for the first time ever, Kyle sees you shrink. Your energy completely dissipates as discomfort overtakes you. 

“Hey, everything okay?” Kyle softens his voice and reaches out, laying a gentle hand on your upper arm in an attempt to lift you up. You slowly step away from it which only worries Kyle more. “What happened? Did Johnny do something?” 

“John and I broke up.” 

-- -- --

“Up for drinks tonight boys? My treat,” announces Price at the end of the team meeting.

“Sure.”

“As long as you pay, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Can’t.”

“Again Johnny? This is the fifth time you’ve bailed on us,” Ghost remarks. 

Soap lets out a deep laugh. “You’re just bitter that I have something sweeter waiting for me at home.” Ghost rolls his eyes while Price laughs. 

“Wanker.” 

Soap, Ghost, and Price all turn towards Kyle. Did he just call Soap a wanker? Why?

“Just a wee joke. Meant no harm,” Soap yields. Gaz just rolls his eyes and continues packing his things. 

Instead of engaging with Gaz, Johnny decides to concede and continue packing. Clearly something is bothering his fellow sergeant but Soap knows it's better to wait until Kyle opens up. And if he’s honest to himself, he really doesn’t have the capacity right now for other people’s problems.  He has enough of his own. 

“Before I forget, ma has been nagging me to bring you guys over for dinner again. Worried that we’re starving or something. Think next week works for all of ya?” 

“Sure.”

“Should I bring anything?”

“Your mom okay with me coming?”

Ghost and Price do a double take as Kyle’s question catches them off guard. Kyle pays them no attention as he stares down Soap who’s smile drops. 

However, as fast as it dropped, it immediately reappeared. “What kind of question is that? Course she knows,” the Scotsman smiles. 

Kyle chuckles in disbelief. “Really? So she knows about me but not your bird?” 

“What?” Soap’s entire demeanor changes. His confident, go-lucky self crumbles, now replaced with shame and discomfort. “What are you on about?”

“Mate, you can’t be serious?” Kyle barks. He takes a step forward towards his counterpart but is stopped by a confused, but attentive captain. Price steps in and asks for an explanation. 

Kyle stares Soap down and bites, “you want to tell them or should I?”  All color drains from Soap's face

“That’s enough you two,” Ghost jumps in, unable to take this anymore. “Whatever problems Johnny is having with his bird is between him and—“

“They broke up two months ago!” Kyle finally exclaims. Ghost’s eyes widened. Price’s jaw drops. That made no sense as just last week, Johnny went on and on about the perfect getaway you two went on. Ghost and Price look to Johnny for answers, but with the way Johnny is standing, head down, shoulders slumped, their questions are answered. 

“Johnny, what happened?” Price tries to comfort the Scotsman. He saw how happy you made the sergeant happy. He even had a heart-to-heart with Johnny when he expressed his desire to marry you. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’ll tell you why.” And with that, Kyle goes off. He tells the team how Johnny, despite claiming to love you more than life itself, refused to fight for you. ”I bet you’re just like your parents,” spits Kyle. 

“You don’t get it,” counters Johnny. His face twists in despair. 

“What’s not to get? Your parents are fucking racist and you refuse to do anything about it.” Kyle couldn’t believe it. Johnny is his friend, his comrade, his brother in arms; despite everything they’ve gone through, Kyle thought he could trust the Scotsman. And worst of all, he wasn’t the one who got hurt, it was you, sweet, beautiful you got hurt. “You’re pathetic. You never fucking deserved them!” 

“That’s enough,” Price puts his foot down. His face stern. He gestures to Soap and sends him to his office. Soap drops his head and nods in defeat. As Johnny walks away, Price lets out a deep breath and asks Ghost to watch Kyle before heading off himself.

The lieutenant and sergeant stand in silence as Kyle is way too angry to speak and Ghost is just uncomfortable by the entire situation. Did Johnny really lose you because of his parents? Ghost couldn’t believe it. He’s seen firsthand how Johnny furiously defended you during late nights out at the bar when other soldiers got a little too crude with the way they spoke about you. Ghost personally has had to rip the sergeant off one too many times from rude allies. What made Ghost even more uncomfortable was the amount of time he’s spent with Johnny’s family and never once got the feeling that his parents were racist. They’ve always been kind to the Lietenant. He assumed it was because of his rank or even his own past, never for… 

“Kyle?” Kyle cocks his head towards Ghost, eyes still buring with rage. “Has his parents ever…”

“No,” Kyle admits. He exhales deeply, his shoulders easing a bit. “I mean, there's been some weird comments here and there but I just assumed it was cause they’re old, never…” Kyle trails off, clearly affected by everything. 

Ghost just nods. He stays quiet for a bit until another question pops in his head. “Are they okay?” 

Kyle shrugs his shoulders. “They’re alright. Still hurt but they’ll survive” 

Ghost hums. He has a million other questions but decides to stay quiet. As much as he wants to know how Kyle found out or what (but really who) you’re doing these days, Ghost sees that Kyle is just exhausted. So with that, the two men finish packing in silence. With their bags in hand, they both leave the conference room, walking side by side in the hallway. 

Kyle pulls out his phone and lets out a small chuckle. Ghost can’t help but give Gaz a weird look. What’s so funny? 

“You know something, L.T., I don’t even feel bad anymore.” Ghost tilts his head as Kyle shows him something on his phone.

You: Saturday works for me! 

Word Count: 1246

Thanks for reading! - Fold's Page Guide + Masterlist

[iluvsanrio444]

╭┈ • ┈ ୨୧ ┈ • ┈╮

chapter two plot ⋆˚࿔ : A continuation from chapter one. Either Romance had heard over Huntrix and Y/Ns discussion on their sealing theory or hasnt, staying in the closet as Y/N wanted him to.

word count -> 4,051

#angst #slight-fluff #slightly comedic #movies-plot #context based

ʚɞ A/N: Thank you so much for the amount of support in the first chapter, I’m so glad you lovelies enjoyed it! I really appreciate all the support from you guys, TYY :3! I suggest reading this along with the songs i’ve put on here as it’ll bring more of an immersive experience, ENJOOYY!!

╰┈•┈୨୧┈•┈╯

Ever since that moment, the tension rises in your stomach the more it is prolonged. You knew that the ajar door to your bedroom meant one thing — Romance. The pinky was quite literally hiding in your closet. Rumi, Mira and Zoey were goofing off, impersonating each Saja Boys predicting how they’ll react to this theory they brought up. You openly wanted to just sit down and watch the others go to their shenanigans just to forget — even just for a second.

How much did he hear?

What’s this bastard thinking?

Am I safe?

Should I just tell them?

Fuck, many things spiralled into your head which just aggravated you even more. Taking a deep breath and trying to ease your tensed-up muscles now. A little jump was earned by Mira when she stood up like a bolt to impersonate Romance about his predicted reaction. You felt your intestines churning, twisting, and coiling, burning up with how much you thought Romance heard. You clenched your fists on your lap, trying to cloud out the panic and gut-wrenching tension, but you couldn’t swallow or breathe.

“Ugh!” Mira dramatically placed a hand on her forehead whilst both her legs crossed together. “No… we can't trust these girls... I—I love being a demon, Jinu! I don't want my hair to go!” Then her arms went to hug herself, being all in a swirling motion, — is she high or something? “I wanna stay as a demon; no, no, no! I refuse with all my..fibre.” The last word being more girly than ever, Mira flipped her imaginary hair, randomly locking in to shoot up heart fingers the entire time. Sure, it was playful banter between each other; it earned Zoey and Rumi to start dying, trying to catch each other to not fall from the couch… It even made me waver a small smile. Even though you were enjoying your time with the trio, you hoped they did wrap things up. The growing sensation of chillis being shoved into your throat made you struggle to breathe at a normal pace. Continuous side glances to your bedroom door that was still opened ajar. It got to your head that you even gave up waiting, knowing these three can go all night if they wanted to.

A clap whilst standing up, now looking at the three ladies, “I’m feeling really tired now guys.. I’ll—“ Cutting you off, Mira put her hand up and just did a swaying motion, “Yeah, yeah, no worries, girl. Go to bed.”

“Mhm go bed, Y/N; you must be tired!” Zoey followed along with Mira.

The smile you once had on, half-heartedly with the three, weakened. Your lips faltered almost to a frown, but the corner of your lips refused to fall, keeping up a small grin. Not to something truer, something more bitter.

No one was looking up.

Not even Rumi.

So quick to dismiss her with no worries. You shot a glance at Rumi, searching for anything; a flicker of acknowledgement, a sliver of care, maybe even a shadow of guilt? To no surprise, her eyes were fixed on her members, lit with loyalty you used to believe you were part of, your… own sister.

Yeah.

Maybe this was the real reason why you forced yourself to accept your helper role. The one who waited in the wings. Always watching the performance that you were supposed to be on.  You used to think you were part of Huntrix, part of the stage... part of them — but lately, it felt more like you were just the silence between their lines.

“Goodnight..?” You vocalised yourself more, heavier than a scream. No one answered. Greeted by their backs as your ‘goodnight’. You stood still, caught in that hollow pause before solitude fully settles in. In that moment a thought gnawed its way through your chest: do you truly deserve this just because you weren't...hunter enough—or to put it simply,

not enough at all.

Returning your back to theirs, too oblivious to know that Rumi had looked twice at you. Watching you. God knew what she was acting oblivious to.

Your room was quiet; a click sound echoed through the cracks in the walls. Too still for how your heart was beating, losing its pace. All the forced composure you had upheld dropped, the slumped shoulders following along before you turned your head. You hoped for whatever God there was; yet again, he was still in the closet. Just as you left him as. Your bedroom was only lit in certain corners, giving a warm ambience that would soon feel like eyes on the both. Taking a step closer whilst observing your room, your eyes locked on a crumpled origami heart. Sardonic, right? But the smile tugging your lips quickly faltered as your eyes began to adjust to the dimly lit bedroom. He was out of the closet. Romance stood there leaning against the glass-panel door with his arms crossed, a shadow draping across his softened features. You could've sworn you stood there frozen just admiring this man— demons.. face. Something caught your attention, though; his usual playful bitchboy glint was nowhere to be found. His normal demeanour fell off the more you gazed at him. His lips were no more than a firm line, evident to his now downturned eyes, almost like it was waiting for a heartbreak, waiting for that cue. You weren’t stupid; you knew why he was like this, doting back to the opened ajar door the entire time.

“You heard us… didn’t you?” You cut to the chase, your tone monotone and flat, cracking halfwaythrough. Just a moment ago you sounded at peace, but now..? Just because— just because of this demon bullshit?

He didn't answer right away, only answering with his body language. A slight quick nod. His eyes wavering to the floor, then to you, then back to the floor. Look at me damn it, you thought.

Similar to him, your gaze too faded away from him; a growing distance between each other only tensed in that same moment. Turning your body away as your hands made their way to squeeze your arms, holding yourself together if you just clutched enough. “How much, Romance?”

“All of it.”

“Why didn’t you just staye—.”

“How was I supposed to know that would be the topic, Y/N?”

“If only you just listened.. just once—.”

“Y/N.”

Desperately you turned your body to him again, eyes now widened, eyebrows upturned slightly. You wanted to say more through but Romance cut you off before you could, gritting your teeth until a deepened, hollow sigh came out.

“The plan makes sense, you know?” His voice wasn't teasing nor liveful. It was flat and hollow, like he himself had no person of his own.

He shifted from the glass-panel door, taking slow footsteps just to be closer to you. As if he was yearning for a moment of comfort, seeing your face was enough. Though his jaw clenched when he saw it this time, it was evident this was rotting you away; the facade moments ago was just relief, living in that moment with no worries, killing yourself inside. Instantly he changed his approach to one motion, like going up to a wounded animal.

“Seal the Honmoon. Starve Gwi-Ma. End it for good.”

A swallow filled with its own stones started to clog your throat, “And what, Romance?” Taking only one step closer, “What happens if it doesn’t work? To the others, t..to you—.” The ending you couldn't even finish without becoming a crying, hiccuping mess. Quickly retreating yourself to talk longer than that.

Hanging pause.

“..I dont……know.”

Crack.

Your hands now trembling from the heightened emotions starting to take over, fogging yourself. Taking another step closer, finally seeing face to face, “Then why so calm about it, Romance?! Why’re you acting like this isn't on your life on a thread, Roma—!”

“Because it is Y/N!” He shouted suddenly, which caused you to jump back, but you stood your ground and went face to face with him yet again. “It’s always been!” His voice cracked under the weight of everything, how he had to stand there the entire time listening to everything. Listening to what the girls had in plan. Listening to how even as hunters, they saw how their flaws weren’t all there was to them.

“Since the day Gwi-Ma spat us out like weapons for some stupid boy band! Since the first soul he shoved down my throat—I’ve never had a choice!”

Crack.

Taking in the shaky breath, how his eyes now glassy were fully on you, melting further into his emotions he once forgot when turned into a demon. “So what if it doesn't work? I can finally have a choice; I get to choose how it ends for me… even if I have to go so far by your hands— at least it was mine Y/-“

“No, no, — no!” You cut him off, tears threatening to strike your cheeks. From the tension being released, your hands made their way to his loose yellow blouse, grabbing it by the collar. “Don’t you dare say it like that!” Tugging him forward to your height, “You don't get to throw your life away like it’s nothing just because someone else decided you were a pawn!” Your voice raw, terrified and palpitating just as his was. Taking this as a signal, your hands retreated to your sides, and you even took a step back. Trying to get your breathing regular as you just choked back cries, which made it far more than a struggle trying to compose yourself. “Y/N.. wait.” Romance took that forward step as you backed away from him. Almost instinctively, your hand shot up

“Don’t—just… don’t come any closer.”

Crack.

“Y/N please…”

“Do you just take me as a pushover?! Do you really think I can do that?” Your hands now wiped away the once threatened tears now tainting your cheeks, “Watch you fucking disapp— for fuck sakes—“ the tears kept rolling down, so you had to look up for a bit before looking at him again. All the curses are now just spiralling everywhere. “Watch you get pulled into that seal if their plan doesnt work and never come back?!” By now you were yelling just enough to not alert the trio who were still bickering in the living room. You didnt care if your voice cracked each time you talked longer and longer, not out of anger but pure fear, “What do you take me for Romance? Do you know what that will do to me?”

The churns started to work in his head; Romance looked like he had just gotten slapped for no reason. His shoulders dropped now; almost their noses could touch by just an inch, his expression softening. “Weren’t we just a one-time fling, Y/N?” His voice was quiet to a near whisper.

Your shoulders flinched since you realised the amount of exposure of your feelings to him.

“Wasn't this something we’d joke about constantly? Until it faded? You never said—.”

“Because I was scared, okay?!” Your breath hitched trying not to sob it out, “Because you weren’t supposed to mean anything. You were the enemy. You were supposed to be a demon I hated, not—” your mind shutted it down, and you forced yourself to shut up. Not everything. Not the only person who saw you in a crowd full of stars. Not the one who you always looked around for. Romance just stared at you, silently, yet everything seemed to signal to you that he already knew as if he’d been hoping to hear it but dreading it too. All the risks.

“I should hate you,” you whispered, softening the more you spoke. “I should.”

“But you don’t, Y/N.”

You shook your head, lowering your gaze from his. “No. I don't. That's why this plan.. Rumis plan..” Just then your body rejected all doubt; your trembling hands slowly went close to his jawline as your eyes followed the same direction. Not touching but close enough to be grateful you even got this close with him. “It can’t include you,” to a whisper filled with relentless pain, your eyes softening as it flickered left and right like it was trying to remember everything about him one last time, “It can’t, Romance.”

Immediately, Romance decided to give up the forces that urged him to stop himself just like you, his hand clasping the same hand next to his neck, placing it on his cheek. “What if it’s the only way? Everything has risks Y/N..”

“Then we’ll find another…” you snapped back, the desperation only growing, drilling into your head. “Who knows what can happen? We’ll find a better way i promi—.”

“Y/N—“

“No!” Pulling him away now, the same distance reoccurring as you backed away, “No,” you whispered, blinking through the tears trying to urge out. “I already know what it’s like to be invisible. To be standing behind everyone, unnoticed, unloved…”

“But with you, I didn’t feel like that. I can’t go back to being alone in a world where you were once real and then gone.” Now the tears came down; you didn't care to wipe them away, nor did you care if he saw this side of you. Your fists balled up so tightly that the tips of your fingers turned white and cold. “You made me feel like I was worth something,” the other hand placed on your chest as you choked out. “You looked at me like I wasn’t just someone’s shadow, and now you’re telling me you’re okay with vanishing? Even if it was just a mere risk, that mere risk can flip everything Romance.”

Romance stood there, staring like he was watching the world crumble beneath your feet infront of him — he was the one who pushed you that far, he knew. His lips parted slightly to say something, but nothing came out. The still silence surrounded the two. You couldn't help but not care anymore, just trying to compose yourself yet again from the highs in these emotions, wiping your tears whilst taking deep, hollow breaths. All romance could do was stare at you, shattered infront of him but carrying yourself back up. Fuck, he hated that. Every ounce of fear slammed at him like some wave he couldn't swim out of, only to be dragged the more he moved.

Crack.

For a moment he hated himself for not looking like his usual self; all the tease and bitch-boy attitude drained out of him. But then again — he never known what it meant to be loved like this let alone the thought of it. The reason why his name was Romance, the reason why he became a demon, the reason why Gwi-Ma managed to manipulate him into another of his pets. Yearning to be loved by someone. He finally got it yet in the worst case scenario. “God Y/N..” he whispered low enough that it could pass as a simple exhale, his voice now hoarse, “Why’d you have to say all of that…?” He ran his fingers through his pink hair now losing its heart shape, a bitter laugh clawed its way from his throat, quiet, and broken. “You’re making me scared now.”

“I was ready to disappear, Y/N, if it meant you could live in peac—“

“Please, stop.”

“Y/N..I thought I was ready..” his voice cracked yet again as he took a step forward to you, hoping you didn't back away moments ago. Fortunately, you didn't; you stood still just wanting to hear him. He was always teasing, frisky, funny and flirtatious, but now? This was the reality of him, the side he was afraid to show anyone, let alone when he was a human.

“But now you’ve gone and made it impossible,” he whispered. “Because now all I can think about is… what it’d feel like to hold your hand when this is over. To laugh about all of this, just once, without a knife in our backs or a plan hanging over us.” He took your hand again, the same hand that hesitated to go near his jawline, the same very hand that grabbed him by the collar, the same hand that you pulled him closer.

“Just you. Just me.”

“You made me want a future that I don’t know how to survive long enough to have.”

He pulled back slightly to catch every single corner of your face, admiring it like he always did before where your dumbass would scowl at him in response or a scoff, ‘That guy's so weird ugh..’ that small flashback made him smile a bit, seeing the same person underneath him tear stained cheeks, ice melting eyes, the raw emotions. You. Just you.

“So I’ll fight beside you, even with the risk… I’ll be right by your side Y/N.” He lowered himself to your height again but more lower than usual, placing your hand onto his cheek.

A breath.

The final crack in his tone.

“Because I don’t want to die anymore.”

In the midst of this moment, the constant back and forward arguing, you just wanted it to stay quiet for a bit. You didn't pull your hand away nor did he push you away, both contempt with just the feeling of desperation. Your breathing not staggering more than before, the other hand now cupping his face. Nothing came out of your mouth, nor did you even think of anything. Everything went black on your side. His eyes searched yours, not for answers, but for something to hold onto. Something real. Following your lead he also held the other hand, both your hands and his intertwined randomly together. He hesitated to speak first considering how you took account of his mouth, parting and closing slightly.

“What’s wrong?” You asked in a soften whisper, hearing laughter dying down in the living room.

“Tell me I mean something to you Y/N.” His eyes now sparked fear— but not any kind of normal panic, fear of rejection. “please, I need it..” He was crouching by now, on his knees looking up at you. Tears now trying to pressurise before letting loose. That explained the way he looked at you, how he opened up to his true self to you. Your eyes flickered between his gaze and something  signalled that he should stop, take it back before anything.

“I'm sorry that was stupid—.”

“I cant.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t tell you that Romance.”

Taking a deep quivering breath whilst looking up trying to seep the reforming tears from staining your cheeks any longer, “Because if I say it.. and… and this plan doesn’t work.” The more you spoke, the more your eyes softened, the more intimate and careful your touch was to him, your fingers wiping few tears that escaped from his eyes, “I—I don’t know how I’ll keep breathing if you go after I say it.”

Romance didn't react nor responded right away, his eyes staring up at you, your hand still on his, his still on yours. Everything was trembling at this point. He blinked once, slowly, the tears you previously wiped away just came back more worse. His lips quivered and parted obviously trying to get his words out before anything could be misunderstood, but his voice caught in the back of his throat. A small “agh” left his mouth instead, taking a few deep breathes he got back up from his knees now looking down at you, his hands still clasped on yours not letting you pull away even if it was just a second. You feared he misunderstood the entire perspective with your reply, just like anyone would. How you always went out of the way to understand both side on a more spiritual level, more enough that you fully believed that no one can really get to that same level. Even as a kid. Seeing how he got ready to respond, you closed your eyes expecting a response that was twisted, mistaken, filled of assumptions even the thought of it made you flinch a bit.

“Hey, hey look at me Y/N.” One of his hand that once clasped yours went to your jaw causing one of your hand to drop down to your side. His hand gently pulling your head back up, instinctively opening your eyes, however your gaze never met his, flickering constantly anywhere in your bedroom other than his face. “Please.” The one plead made you fold instantly after everything that had happened, it was only natural.

“I know now why you cant Y/N, dont beat yourself up for it.” He gave a breathless chuckle, one that held no humor, just bare. “Until the day you can say it, I'll stay by your side. Even with this theory Rumi planned out, alright?”

You blinked a few times, surprised that he actually understood what she tried to say. Not even twisting it to his narrative; rather, he made it to where it was together.

Knock.

Another knock?

“Y/N..?” It was Rumi.

Your eyes darted to the door back to him, pulling away from him and sniffing up your blocked nose wiping the tear strikes. “I’ll best leave, huh?” Romance tried to soften the mood still; even with Rumi at your door, a simple tap on your cheek before he went to your balcony and exited.

“Look, text me if anything happens.” You were silent and unresponsive, “Please.” You grabbed the origami of the heart, but there were two from before, giving him one back and keeping the other. That alone said enough to him.

Seeing him leave via your balcony, you placed the origami heart in your drawer before opening the door now. A sheepish Rumi. Normally you would greet her with a smile, but after everything, your eyes drooped and reddened to the point where Rumi mistakened it for lack of sleep. “Holy shit Y/N, I—I’ll make this quick, I promise!”

“Just hurry it up.”

“Are… are you and Romance like—“

For gods sake. Face palming yourself and even running your fingers through your already messed up hair, “Do you know what time it is Rumi?” You peeked your head through your door just to see Mira and Zoey doing their dumbass couch time, “Mira.. Zoey?!” They both cranked their heads to you, “Oops..” the two girls said in unison before slanting to their shared room.

“Look, Rumi.” Taking a long sigh and turning your head to her, “I’m tired; just cut to the chase.” Rumi straightened herself a bit, hesitating more than she thought she would in the first place. “Okay, okay,” she placed her hands up in surrender.”

“I didn't mean to eavesdrop on you both Y/N, I noticed the way you were acting off and i heard some slight banging from your room. I was just coming to ask if you were okay… but.. i heard you. And his. Both your voices.” Relentless exhales made their way since your head was already fogged enough. Leaning against the doorframe with your arms now crossed, head tilted to the side. “So?”

“It scared me Y/N.”

“Since when did you care Rumi.”

“What?”

“Stop acting like you give a shit alright?!” You placed a hand on your forehead, trying to soothe the growing numbness in your head. “I'm sorry—I didn't mean to say that.. just listen alright?”

“Y/N—“

“Please just listen.”

The tone in your voice only grew more frustrated; it almost made you laugh seeing how she came up to ‘worry’ about you. Did she really think some simple half ass excuse would just turn your tables and act like it's fine yet again from back then? You were too tired and drained out mindlessly.

“I’ll tell you what happened tomorrow, okay? You and Jinu. So just please... leave me alone.”

You didn't bother to hear her response knowing your ears picked up the faintest ‘what,’ before thudding the door shut. Locking it again with a faint clink. After that you made your way to your bed and practically flopped yourself face first onto it. Turning yourself side ways slightly whilst your gaze drifted to the drawer, where the last origami heart waited.

Still there.

Still intact.

But god, how it ached just to look at it.

[midtalissa]

# ‘THROUGH YOUR GLASSES’

-> Summary: After Bruce accidentally reveals Clark’s secret, your relationship falls apart—but when danger finds you, Clark shows up, and maybe… so does a second chance.

-> Pairing: Clark Kent x F!Reader

-> WARNINGS: lowkey nothing super heavy besides heartbreak and late-night creeps; but in theory nothing again🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Clark smiled softly, pointing at a bouquet of your favorite flowers. “That one, please.”

The old florist handed them over with a knowing grin. But Clark barely noticed— his attention was fixed on the man standing behind him.

“Something wrong, young man?” the lady’s voice cut through the now thick tension. “No, I’ll get going ma’am. Have a nice day.” he payed for the flowers.

Clark lowered the flowers, jaw tightening. “Need something, Bruce?” he stared at the billionaire. “I can help you.”

“You’ve done enough.” “If it’s about money—”

“I can manage,” Clark snapped. “And even if I couldn’t, I wouldn’t ask you.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” Bruce shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets, like a sulking kid who broke the neighbor’s window.

“She didn’t have to know.” Clark rubbed the bridge of his nose, as he turned to him fully now, his look sharp enough to cut steel. “And well… she knows now.”

“I called her. I tried to explain—” Bruce began speaking, but Clark shut him down. He wasn’t that mad at Bruce. Except that he lost you.

“Don’t.” Clark’s voice dropped low, dangerous. “Stay away from her. Stay away from me.”

And with that, Clark walked away— flowers in hand, heart in pieces. Oh, what happened? Well…

Once upon a time, there were two lovebirds: You and Clark Kent.

You were a ray of sunshine— until the topic of superheroes came up. You hated them. The capes, the collateral damage, the hypocrisy.

And Clark? Well… Clark was Superman.

But you didn’t know that part. Not until Bruce Wayne— in a fit of bad timing and worse judgment— let it slip during a stupid, ego-driven argument with Clark about justice and accountability.

One wrong sentence. One second of Bruce not keeping his mouth shut. That’s all it took. You were livid. Furious. Heartbroken. And now?

Now Clark was standing at your door with a bouquet and a face full of regret.

He knocked twice. Through the peephole, he saw you hesitate. Cross your arms. Uncross them. Sigh. And then the door creaked open… just barely.

“What?” Your eyes flicked down to the flowers. “I told you to leave me alone.” Before you could close it again, Clark slid his foot against the frame and pushed the door open wider.

You didn’t fight it. “These are for you,” he said quietly, holding the bouquet out like it was some kind of white flag. “And… let me just say… it’s all a misunderstanding. I’m not—”

“I don’t wanna hear it.” Your voice cracked, but you held your ground. “There’s nothing left to say. I just needed someone to say it out loud so I could finally see through your dumb glasses. You’re him, Clark. Period.”

You grabbed the flowers anyway. Stupid muscle memory. Stupid lingering feelings. Clark stood there, awkward and heavy in your doorway, until finally…

“Can I come in?” he asked, voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “Just… one last time?” You stepped aside without a word.

Clark moved toward the couch, taking it all in. His eyeglasses cloth still draped over the armrest. Pictures of the two of you smiling, framed and untouched. His jacket on the hook by the door like he’d be back any second.

“I’m assuming you’re here to grab your crap?” you said flatly, sticking the flowers in a vase without looking at him. “Didn’t touch any of it. Figured it’d be easier for you to pack and leave faster. Superman should be able to do it in… what… two minutes?”

Clark smiled bitterly. “Two minutes is generous. But Flash would do it quicker.”

You plopped down in the recliner, crossing your legs. “Then maybe you and your vigilante buddies can have a race. See who can pack their shit the fastest from their ex’s apartment.”

The room fell quiet.

Clark glanced at the clock. Time was slipping. He had to be at City Hall in half an hour. With a heavy sigh, he stood up, gathering a few small things but leaving most behind.

“You don’t have to—“ “I know.” He cut you off gently. “But I should.” And then… he left.

That night you shouldn’t have walked home alone. Not this late. Not down this side street where the streetlights flickered and died like some horror movie cliché.

The three guys following you were making no effort to hide it anymore. Their footsteps picked up. Your heart did the same.

You pulled out your phone with shaky hands, but no signal. Of course. You turned a corner— dead end. Panic clawed up your throat.

“Hey, sweetheart,” one of them jeered, stepping closer. You opened your mouth to scream and suddenly, a loud gust of wind slammed through the alley.

The air shifted. The temperature dropped. And when you blinked, they were gone. Scattered like leaves in a storm.

In their place… stood him. Red cape. Broad shoulders. Chest heaving like he’d flown here faster than thought itself. Superman. Clark. Your Clark.

He looked terrified. Like he’d been more scared of losing you than fighting them. “You okay?” he breathed, stepping toward you carefully, like you’d break if he moved too fast.

You nodded slowly, throat tight, tears pricking your eyes. “Stupid question,” he muttered, reaching out, but hesitating— waiting for you to close the distance. And you did.

Without another word, you wrapped your arms around him. Tight. Like you were afraid he’d disappear if you let go.

He buried his face in your hair, holding you like you were oxygen. “I still hate superheroes,” you mumbled against his chest.

“That’s fine,” he whispered back, kissing the top of your head. “I’m just… really glad you don’t hate me.”

[ladykailitha]

Shut Up and Drive Part 4

If you didn't see chapter three, it is not your fault, Tumblr has hidden the damn thing and it's been two weeks. I can see it on my dashboard and even through the app, but site wide and on browser, nada! I even looked through it and couldn't find anything mature to shadow ban it. Hopefully you'll be able to see this one and it'll have the link to the third chapter.

This story is almost complete. I just have one or two more chapters to go and it's done. I am so excited for you guys to see the end.

In this we have Eddie in AP history, along with Robin and Steve. Yes, Steve. I am still on my Steve is smart and a history nerd agenda.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

~

Monday morning was rife with speculation on who had called the cops. Eddie chuckled as the racers tried double speak their way out of revealing themselves to their peers.

The only one who wasn’t there come Monday was Steve Harrington. The rumor mill was as much a buzz with his absence as they were with cops breaking up the races.

Eddie had his own theory on who had called the cops. It was either King or Chronos. King for being beat to hell and not being able to race and not wanting to lose. Or Chronos for not wanting to go up against King and lose.

Then he spotted Tommy Hagan.

He looked smug as hell and suddenly Eddie got it. Holy shit, that asshole! He knew Chronos was going to beat King or at least get a hell of a lot closer than Titan would have and didn’t want to be shown up in front of everyone.

Eddie was tempted to go over there and punch Tommy in the face, break a nose, knock out a couple teeth, but he promised Wayne he wouldn’t start any fights, but he was allowed to finish them.

Billy Hargrove caught him staring at Hagan, though. “Hey Munson, take a picture it’ll last longer. Never mind, you’d fwap to the photo.”

“You jealous, Hargrove?” Munson shot back. “You worried I’ll stop jacking off to your picture?”

Billy flexed his arms as if he was going to hit Eddie, but just then a teacher walked by, and Eddie fell in step with them, keeping the teacher between Billy and himself.

The teacher looked over at him and then sighed. “I know what you’re doing Mr. Munson, and I do not appreciate being used as a human shield.”

Eddie grinned down at him. “But Mr. Burton, I am merely on my way to class and we are going the same direction. Besides I am sticking to the edict of avoiding fights with my peers.”

Mr. Burton shook his head. “I thought you had Mrs. Click this period and I am certain she is on the other side of the building.”

“Then are you not heading for your own class, Mr. Burton?” Eddie asked all wide eyed. “I assumed that to be the case when I started walking with you, as your class is right across from hers. You know, both being history teachers and all.”

Mr. Burton turned and looked up at him with a small smile. “I can’t pull the wool over your eyes, you got me. You are going the right direction. I just wanted to see if I could trick ya.”

“Mr. Burton! You tease!” Eddie gasped. “They should take back your teacher of the year award for being so saucy.”

Mr. Burton laughed. “How do you think I got the award in the first place?” He winked at him.

Eddie never had a problem with his history or English classes, so he always got along with the history teachers. Well... most of them. Mrs. Click was a damn fine history teacher, but no one liked her.

“I wish I was in your class this year,” Eddie admitted, ducking his head.

Mr. Burton patted his arm in sympathy. “I know. I also heard she’s flunking you and that’s one of the reasons you’re not graduating.”

Eddie let out a shuddering breath. “I don’t know why I’m forced to take a history class again, anyway. I have enough credits for history. It’s math, science, and PE that I need.”

“I don’t know, Eddie,” Mr. Burton said sadly. “But I’ll see if I can get together with a couple of the other teachers and see you can’t graduate based on your actual credits and not just them having you repeat your senior year ad nauseum.”

“Thanks, Mr. B.,” Eddie replied with a pained grin. “This is me, so I’ll see you around.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

Eddie slumped down in the desk farthest from the front of the room and waited for the rest of the students to file in. Mr. Burton might be ignorant about why Mrs. Click was failing him, but Eddie had no such delusions. He was in her AP class and she was so sure he was cheating instead of, you know, actually knowing the subject.

He watched as the other students filter into the class. It was a strange mish-mash of juniors and seniors and then whatever the fuck he was.

The smartest of the juniors were Robin Buckley and Fred Benson. They definitely deserved to be there. Most of the class were seniors and the greatest dark horse of the class, even more so himself was Steve Harrington and as near as Eddie could figure, he was writing Mrs. Click’s tests.

He was that good. And because he was that good, she let him get get away with murder. He loved to stroll in fifteen minutes late with a bagel that he would eat, making a mess.

That wasn’t even the worst part of the bagel. It was the way he would chipmunk the thing, his cheeks bulging with the large pieces of bagel that he would shove into his mouth. Eddie had to moved directly behind the guy so that he wouldn’t go feral at the sight.

But there would be no bagel porn today because Harrington was home sick. Thank whatever higher power was out there for that.

When Buckley walked in and saw that the seat in front of her was empty she sighed with relief. Most likely for a similar but opposite problem Eddie had. While Steve was Eddie’s crush, he was pretty sure Steve was drawing all the attention away from her crush.

Which even as far as girls went, Tammy Thompson was not on Eddie’s radar at all. Like sometimes he could tilt his head and go, ‘oh yeah, she’s cute’ and not want to bang said girl, but Tammy? He just didn’t get it.

Yes, yes. He knew he was being hypocritical with the Steve crush especially with what he told Jeff just a couple of months ago. But Steve seemed to grow on him.

Not that Steve improved upon closer inspection. Steve was still a smart ass with more sass then sense. But instead of irritating him like it had done in the past...Eddie found it...argh...cute!

He kept that shit to himself though.

He suffered through the class and shambled out the door to his next class, which thankfully was was Mr. Cohen’s class. Science fiction and fantasy writing. Eddie had taken it as an elective to see he could get more English credits.

Mr. Cohen was also the journalism teacher and yearbook supervisor. So he was having the class write poems and shit for the Reflections magazine because there was a distinct lack of interest that year.

Poems were just song lyrics not set to music yet, so Eddie was a having the time of his life.

“The king on his steed

A heart filled with greed

Races to fill some other need

He rushes forward thundering at great speed”

Okay so it wasn’t his best, but he got Mr. Cohen to laugh at all of them rhyming so he counted that as a win.

“All right, class,” Mr. Cohen said after the bell rang. “We going to read a relatively new book in the sci-fi genre called ‘Ender’s Game.’ It came out in January but it took me this long to get it approved for this class. So I want everyone to come up and pick up a copy. On the inside of each book is a number from one to twenty-seven, you will put your name on the signout sheet next to the number of your book. Please do not outline, draw in, or otherwise deface this book, if you do or you lose it, you’ll pay for it, do you understand?”

The class nodded.

They all filed up to the front of the class to grab their book. Eddie hung back until almost everyone else had picked up theirs. He strangely got number eight, but he dutifully put his name to next to the number and shuffled back to his desk.

“All right, everyone,” Mr. Cohen said. “I want everyone to start reading chapter one to yourselves. Then be ready on Wednesday to talk about your thoughts.”

Eddie started reading the book and was immediately drawn into the world, he was pretty sure he finish the book by tonight.

Which meant he would probably reread the thing several times before the class was over. Which was a plus as far as he was concerned.

He was actually disappointed when the bell rang for lunch. He shoved the book into his backpack and made for the lunch room.

Again not having Harrington gaze at, made for dull lunch. Well he would have to make his own entertainment then.

He got up on the lunch table and starting a rant about how unless the kid enjoyed it and wanted to do something with math or science, students shouldn’t have take them past the basic level. He was never going need to know the golden ratio or e=mc2 or whatever working for the factory down or as a mechanic.

Just as the principal came rushing in Eddie leapt off the table and neatly on his feet.

“Hi!” he said brightly.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to climb up on the furniture of this school,” Principal Higgins snarled. “Just because you were raised in a barn does mean you get you get treat other people’s property like you’re an animal.”

“Ahh...” Eddie said with the tilt of his head. “I wouldn’t go around talking about my mom that way if I were you. It’s not her fault she got cancer and passed away.”

Principal Higgins looked like he had swallowed a very sour lemon. “Just don’t do it again, do you hear me, Munson?”

Eddie just grinned at him, hands on his hips, staring him down. Eddie cocked his eyebrows and tilted his head, daring the principal to put him in detention, suspend him, or out and out expel him.

Principal Higgins did none of those things. He turned on his heel and stormed off, snarling something at one of the lunch ladies as he passed.

“Well that wasn’t very friendly,” Eddie told the assembled students. “Lunch ladies are sacrosanct, everyone knows that.”

He walked up to the offended lady in question and offered to buy her a Coke, one which she gratefully accepted.

He went back to his table and Jeff glared at him. “You do know you only need two years of both math and science, right?”

“And what good is algebra or geometry going do me working at Thacher’s Tires?” Eddie growled back. “All I need is to know fractions and weights and measurements. I don’t need to find pi or know the circumference of a circle to change a fucking tire.”

“No, but you need to know the radius of the tire to make sure you don’t put the wrong one on,” Jeff said cocking his head to the side.

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Well, shit.”

“Hey, leave him alone,” Brian bit out. “He just found out that it was those two classes that held him back. Again. They’re not for everyone. And yeah some basic geometry is required for life, but pass me on needing to know what a fucking cosign is for working at Bradley’s Big Buy.”

Jeff’s jaw dropped. “Oh. Damn, man. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

Eddie picked at his pretzels and kicked the leg of their table. “It is what it is.”

“Still,” Jeff said with a heavy sigh. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I know it’s tough for you.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled and went back to mindlessly chewing on his sandwich.

It didn’t even have mustard on it. It wasn’t like he forgot, it was that they couldn’t afford to get to the store. All the money he made over the weekend went to buying tires for Wayne’s truck. They were starting to get more bald then the owner of the truck and that was dangerous.

Which meant no mustard for his bologna sandwich.

He jumped when something landed square in the middle of his lunch box. He picked it up and it was one of those mustard packets you get at ballparks and the State Fair. He looked up to see Jeff looking at him.

“The deli my mom gets her pre-made sandwiches from,” Jeff said, “comes with little packets of mayo and mustard and since I don’t like mustard I figured you could use the extra.”

Eddie swallowed around the lump in his throat. It was as good as an apology as any. “Thanks, man.”

He ripped open the packet with his teeth and smeared it all over one side of his sandwich. He took another bite and moaned happily, mustard catching on the edge of his mouth.

“Gross,” Jeff said shaking his head and throwing napkins at Eddie’s face, one of them managing to stick to the glob of mustard.

Eddie cackled, wiping off his face. “Mustard is the seed of life, dude. You are seriously missing out.”

“Seed of life or not,” Jeff huffed, “that stuff is nasty. I can smell it from here.”

Brian shrugged his shoulders. “Mustard isn’t that bad. I like it in my mom’s meatloaf and in my potato salads.”

“But that’s mixed with other things to mask it’s vile nature,” Jeff insisted. “Anywhere else and you’re beggin’ the devil’s pardon.”

Eddie sat back with a smile on his face, already feeling a little better than when he started his lunch.

The lunch bell rang and he packed up his stuff, listening his friends talk among themselves, thinking today hadn’t be a complete bust.

As he made his way to his last class he over heard a couple of rich kids talking about some big party that was happening that weekend because their parents were going to be in Indy for the weekend.

Eddie slowed down as he took in the details. Things were definitely looking up.

~

Jeff's views of mustard are the views of the author. :D

ETA: Mr. Burton is a real person, or was I'm pretty sure he's passed considering he was my dad's teacher mentor when he did his student teaching. My 8th history teacher and he was exactly like this. He would start each class with a joke and it would always be terrible. And yes, he even got teacher of the year for his sass.

Tag List: TWO SLOTS REMAINING

1- @niniel-karenine @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@tartarusknight @gloomysoup @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @stedestielfrattficlover @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @oopsallgender @fearieshadow

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @tinyplanet95

7- @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @gutterflower77 @swimmingbirdrunningrock

8- @wheneverfeasible @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss @steddieislife

9- @1tsra1n1ngbutterfl1es @a-couchpotato @ollieolive @micheledawn1975 @jamieweasley13

10- @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @pentapoctopus @themoonagainstmers

[coltermorning]

A Standing Offer Pt. 2 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: When your car ends up with a minor problem, you’re forced to interact with Arthur again.

Author’s Notes: Part two of this one.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, eventual smut

AO3 Link

~

A Standing Offer

Word count: 3418

Part Two

“That aren’t gonna buff out, Artur.”

Arthur was doing his best to ignore the Irishman at his side, sweat beginning to bead across his forehead for his efforts. He was trying hard to get your bumper back in working order, but it was proving more difficult than he’d thought.

“What is it they call insanity? Doing the same ting over again and expecting different results?”

“Quit while you’re ahead,” Arthur grumbled.

“Exactly what you should doing there.”

Arthur stood so fast that Sean jumped back to avoid him. Arthur laughed at him. “What you so jumpy for? I’m just getting another cover for this buffer.”

“Oh, sure you are,” Sean said. “Very funny.”

“Unless you think I have reason to beat your teeth in,” Arthur suggested.

“Me? Never,” Sean answered, following Arthur along as he made for the part he was looking for.

“Shit, there’s reason enough to give you a good beating every day,” Arthur said, scanning the shelves on the wall. He found the right cover for the buffer machine and took it off the shelf, feeling along it to see if it would do the trick. He wasn’t quite pleased, but it was worth trying at least.

“You always this nasty toward your friends?” Sean teased.

Arthur finally turned to him. “To my coworker who won’t go work his job, keeping me from mine in the process? Yes.”

“Ahh, you love me though. Besides, I know what it is. You’re just hung up on that girl. What’s her name? Ruby?”

Arthur really could have punched him then, and John and Javier too for ever mentioning you in the first place.

“I ain’t hung up on anyone. Now go do the job you’re hired to do before I fire you myself.”

Sean let out a bark of a laugh. “You wish you could, English.” But, thankfully, he let Arthur be and went back to the old Chevy he had been assigned a week ago.

Even though Arthur’s shadow was gone, he found himself even more aggravated when he continued buffing out the bumper. The breaks in the plastic that resulted when the piece bent back into its proper shape weren’t going anywhere.

Arthur put the buffer down and rocked back on his knees, hands on his hips. This weren’t good. Either you’d need a new bumper, or you would have to come up here and confirm that you were all right with the damage. The second one was cheaper, but Arthur wanted no reason for the boys at the shop to keep ribbing him over you. It didn’t make any goddamn sense, as far as he was concerned. John and Javier were the two idiots who had cornered you in that club. He’d barely even spoken to you in comparison. But no, all he’d heard since was how sweet on you he was, volunteering to fix up your car cheap. He wished he’d never even offered.

Truth be told, Arthur didn’t quite know why he’d done it. There was the obvious, that he felt bad for all the damage his truck had caused that you would have to pay for. But beyond that, he’d told himself the minute he left the Rouge that he would block all thought of you off. True, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you that night, and also true, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you’d spoken to him. But it was your job to act as you had toward him. He didn’t think he’d ever have reason to see you again anyway. When he got out of his truck in all that buzzing traffic, the last person he’d expected was you, shouting at some poor girl enough to make her look like she was shrinking into her clothes. He was so amused by your change in behavior that he’d told himself right then and there to be done with it all. He couldn’t fall for a stripper who had only paid him any mind because she was getting paid to do so. So, he’d told you the damage, determined to leave it there, then the words that he would help you came spilling out of his mouth before he could stop them. And he’d regretted them every moment since.

Arthur wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his arm, knowing either way, the shape the car was in at least warranted a call. Best to get it over with sooner rather than later.

~

A number you didn’t have saved in your phone crossed your screen, distracting you from your reality TV. You would normally damn whoever it was and ignore it, but a lot of random numbers had been calling you since moving and starting a new job. You groaned loudly and picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Y/N? This is Arthur.”

Well, well. You didn’t like the excitement that bolted through you one bit.

“Hey,” you said simply, not wanting to make this some big deal. Simple phone call, back to your show.

“I got a problem with your car.”

Just perfect. Couldn’t you have one relaxing day?

“What is it?”

“I got the front bumper back in place, but the breaks in the plastic won’t buff out.”

“So…”

“So you’ll either have to keep it like this or order a new bumper.”

“Oh.” That was an easy decision. “It doesn’t affect driving it, does it?”

“No, just cosmetic.”

You grinned at his use of the word cosmetic. “Easy enough. Leave it like it is.”

“Can do,” he said. And, just before you were about to hang up and go back to your show, “I’ll need you to come look at the damage and sign off on it.”

Christ. You really didn’t need to go see this man in person again. You would have to go back up there to get your car anyway, but you were hoping Arthur would already be busy with another car by then. “Can’t you just sign it for me? Take this as my personal attestation that I won’t sue you?”

“Afraid not,” he said simply.

“Ugh. Fine. When do I need to come up there?”

“It’s ready now. Anytime before five.”

“Great,” you said with as much sarcasm as you could muster. “Be there soon.”

“Bye,” he said, and hung up before you could.

“Bye,” you said in a sing-song voice, tossing your phone across the couch. This was just not what you needed right now. You were thrilled the car was done so soon, but you were determined to get this man out of your head. Going to see him at his shop, where he dressed like masculinity given form, would not help. But you sucked it up and called an uber anyway, at least glad that you wouldn’t have to inconvenience Janiyah by bumming a ride anymore.

The entire ride to the shop, you watched the traffic from the back seat and did your best to hold your tongue. But truly, you would have to move closer to the club or something. This road rage was taking years off your life.

Before you could do something stupid enough to ruin your uber rider rating, you arrived at Arthur’s shop. It was named Van der Linde Auto Shop—a mouthful of a name that you’d told them to change upon learning it. Because of it, though, you’d learned that Arthur didn’t own the place, that his last name was Morgan, and way too many other personal things about the guys who worked here. John and Javier included. The owner hadn’t been in the last time, and neither had the rest of their little gang of merry men. But today as you walked up in broad daylight, the place was crawling with them.

“Y/N,” someone called out from your right, and you squinted into the sunlight to find John. There laid another problem—because of the business with the cars and the cops, they now knew your real name.

John loped over, pausing his work on a ridiculously jacked-up truck you had a sneaking suspicion was his.

“Hey. Arthur’s just inside. Said to let him know when you got here.”

“Well, here I am,” you said, curious over John’s enthusiasm. You wondered if it was due to flattery or guilt. Most men couldn’t help feeling one or the other toward you after meeting you a second time.

“This way,” he said, sure as ever. You followed him in through the shop’s big bay doors, thinking he was likely feeling both. But you refrained from calling him on it, remembering the woman he and Arthur had been arguing about at the club. No need to insert yourself there.

“Arthur! Y/N’s here,” John called out to the floor.

You couldn’t see Arthur but heard him call out, “Give me a minute. Almost done here.”

You turned to John and smiled. “Thanks for the help.”

The scars across his face stretched as he smiled back. “No problem. See you.” Then he turned to go, and you could only laugh under your breath at his confidence.

“Yeah, see you.”

Wanting to get out of here as quick as you could, you went looking for Arthur. There were cars in the way and four other men you could see working—Javier and three others you’d never met—but no Arthur. Javier waved at you with a shit-eating grin on his face. You didn’t even want to know, just waved back. But you did spot your car near the back of the shop, so you made for it. Only, you saw sudden movement by your feet and stopped, taking in the sight of…holy fuck.

There were two work boots and a very familiar pair of well-fitting jeans sticking out from under the car at your side. Arthur was on his back on one of those stupid roller things, and the way he reached up to work on the underside of the car revealed a sliver of very chiseled, deliciously sweaty abdomen. You had two seconds to imagine your tongue on those muscles before you mentally kicked yourself and behaved.

You nudged one of his boots. “So, should I come down there, or..?”

There was a moment’s hesitation before he pushed himself out from under the car, rising up and putting those abs to work. You forced yourself not to watch them. Even though the rest of him looked just as good in a black shirt that stretched across his broad chest. He had black streaks across his arms and hands from whatever he had been doing with the car, and he started to wipe them away with a dirty rag.

“What part of ‘give me a minute’ didn’t you get?” he asked, though he sported a smug look as he said it.

You just shrugged. “You look done to me.” Not just done—hot as fuck, you thought to yourself. The way he cleaned his hands with that rag made his forearm muscles turn over, bulging. Something about the movement and the black shirt as opposed to the white one he had been in the last time...

Now that you took him all in, you realized he was undoubtedly threatening in a way that ran past the seams of his shirt and down his coarse arm muscles to his able hands. This man was barely-contained power. And yet, you still wanted it all for yourself.

“I am done,” he said. “But make no mistake, if I weren’t, you’d be waitin’.”

“You sure know how to charm a girl,” you replied lazily, easily. It was so easy to flirt with him you made a point to keep the chit chat to a minimum from then on.

He smirked and threw the rag on top of the car, rolling the contraption he’d been lying on back under the car with his boot. “Car’s over here,” he said, leading the way. You watched his ass in those jeans again, not really caring to divert your gaze. If this was the last time you saw him, it was best to take in the view.

He stopped just before your car and pointed at the front bumper. “Scratches are just there.”

You leaned down to get a better look and were pleasantly surprised. They really weren’t bad. You certainly wouldn’t be buying a whole new bumper just to fix a few pieces of fractured plastic. They were noticeable, but the thing was drivable and had two properly-shaped bumpers again. That was the best you could ask for at the price he was offering.

You straightened up and turned to him, and his gaze flicked back to your face. From where it had been on your ass.

This was a dangerous game the two of you were playing.

“Looks fine to me,” you said. “Where do I sign?”

He just grunted in response, motioning for you to follow him. You really wished he wasn’t so gruff. Rude, really. If he’d just accepted your dance back at the club, he would be gone from your thoughts entirely. But no. He had to make things difficult, like he knew you were a sucker for a challenge.

Arthur led you back to the shop’s corner office, one you noted was walled with glass. Likely so whoever was in here could see what was happening on the shop floor, though your mind went to less innocent things, like what all those workers would think of what a mess Arthur could make of you on this very desk. You shook that thought off before it could take root and looked to Arthur. He had found the form he wanted from the filing cabinet and laid it down on the desk, beginning to fill out the details of the repair. You watched his shoulders and back muscles work against the tiny weight of the pen on paper. This man really was a sight to admire.

“There, if you’ll just…sign there,” he said finally, flipping the paper around for you to sign. He held the pen out to you, and you impulsively tried to catch his gaze as you took it, but he wouldn’t look up. Coward.

You set your purse down in the chair at your side and signed. When you finished and handed him back the pen, he gathered up all the paperwork and the receipt. Then you paid and knew it was time to go or else risk getting hung up on this idiot.

“Here’s the keys,” he said, handing them over. “Try your best to drive a little better from now on.”

“Shut up,” you quipped. “Like you wouldn’t be happy to have me back in.”

He chuckled and shook his head, his face tingeing red. “Go before I charge you for keeping me from my job.”

You gave him one last long look, memorizing that handsome face, before turning on your heel. “Thank you, Arthur.”

All he said in response as he followed you back to the floor was, “Be sure to put it in reverse to back out of here. That’s the one with the ‘R’.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you shot back, though you gave him a smile and a laugh as you did, secretly hoping that just as it usually did at the Rouge, the look would linger.

~

It took you until you got out of your car back at your apartment to realize you didn’t have your purse. It, and your phone, and your wallet, were still sitting in that goddamn chair at Arthur’s shop.

You let out a groan and slapped a hand to your forehead, debating turning right around to go get it. You would need it for work tonight. But you also didn’t want to see Arthur again. You’d spent the entire ride home cursing yourself a fool for how you’d acted toward him at the shop. It was infuriating, really, how you just wanted to be done with him, but seeing him made you turn into the world’s biggest, most obnoxious flirt. You could not get involved with this man. It went against every instinct you had in your professional life. So, you did what any sane person would do when faced with such a problem and avoided it. You stomped upstairs and slammed your apartment door shut behind you, leaving that problem for a later, much wiser, version of yourself.

After eating a ridiculous amount of junk food and bingeing reality TV for the rest of the day, you finally gave in and left a little earlier than usual to go get your purse back before work. You only hoped that John or Javier or literally anyone other than Arthur would be the one to retrieve it for you when you got there.

Upon arriving, not only were you disappointed, you were debating turning right back around and leaving. It was late enough on a Wednesday night that everyone else had left for the day, and only Arthur’s gray truck remained sitting just in front of the office. Fuck.

All you could do was go in and get your shit and leave with as few words as possible, and that’s exactly what you aimed to do as you parked beside him and walked up to the door. But then you saw him through the glass office windows walking around the shop carrying some power tool, lifting his shirt up to wipe his sweat away. You watched that glorious body in silence, not moving a muscle to go inside as he used the tool to saw a piece off of a car. Fuck him and his stupid sculpted body.

Before you could move, he looked up and saw you standing there. He startled a little but set the tool down and walked over to you, opening the door. “Jesus, you trying to scare the shit out of me?”

“Sorry,” you managed. “I was just…I left my purse.”

“Oh. Where?”

You pointed inside the shop to the chair that held the tiny bundle of leather you could have burned up with the spite you felt toward it.

He held the door open wider for you and motioned for you to come in.

“Sorry about that,” you said honestly. “Didn’t mean to take up so much of your day.”

He huffed a laugh. “You sure about that?”

You stopped and turned toward him. “What do you mean?”

He crossed the room and took your purse, handing it to you in an annoyingly courteous way that made you think get out now before you do something stupid.

“Just that I’m starting to think you like my company,” he said, meeting your eye with a smile so charming that it made your flirting look pitiful in comparison.

You were lost on a comeback and settled for a simple, “I’m just forgetful is all.” Even though that couldn’t be farther from the truth—he had distracted you into forgetting your purse earlier.

“Uh huh,” he quipped. “And you just happened to be looking my way when I spotted you watching me work through that window, right?”

You felt your face heat. “Something like that.”

He really smiled now. “‘Course.”

He let the silence stretch enough for you to feel a panic you normally never did when it came to men.

“Well, thank you,” you said, turning for the door. “I owe you.”

“Nah, you don’t owe me anything. We’re even,” he said as he stepped forward and opened the door for you.

You passed him and walked into the night air, about to do the very thing you knew you shouldn’t. But you did, because he was a good person under all that toughness.

“Not even a dance?” you quipped, turning on him with a raised eyebrow.

His face hardened, his jaw clenching just a heartbeat long enough for you to know the comment had its desired effect. But then he leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms in amusement.

“You want to know why I turned you down before? Why I will every time you ask?”

Your heart started racing in a way no man had made it race in years. “Why?”

“Because I don’t pay for it. If I get what I want from you, it ain’t going to be for any money.”

You just stared at him. He stood straight and let the door fall in, retreating back into his shop. “Night,” he said without looking back. And you were left watching him go, for once the one allowing a man’s words to linger.

[theangryhistoriananna]

Whenever people claim Lucien never cared about Feyre past her connection to Tamlin and then Elain I always wonder if we've read the same books.

Like I can think of a TON of moments that showcase, starting in ACOTAR that Lucien did care for Feyre and considered her a friend but these five especially stick out for me:

But Beron had been part of that alliance, if I correctly recalled my lessons with Rhys all those months ago. "And yet here you are, ready to march with Hybern." "I did it for you, too, you know." Cold, hard words. "I went with him to get you back." "I never realized with a powerful motivator guilt can be." [.....] I said quietly, "Thank you. For coming to Hybern to get me." He pulled at the moss beside him, jaw tight. "It was a trap. What I thought we were to do there....it did not turn out that way." -ACOWAR 30

Lucien unbuttoned his jacket but remained mostly dressed as he slid onto his sleeping roll. "I think it's worse because you two haven't....I mean, you haven't, right?" I stiffened, tugging the blanket higher onto my shoulders. "No. I don't want to be touched like that-not for a while." His silence was heavy-sad. I hated the lie, hated it for how filthy it felt to wield it. "I'm sorry" he said. And I wondered what else he was apologizing for as I faced him in the darkness of our tent. -ACOWAR 56

....It's old magic-old and strange. It's why we avoid bargains unless it's necessary: even the scholars at the Day Court don't know how it works. Believe me, I've asked." "For me-you asked them for me." "Yes. I went last winter to inquire about breaking your bargain with Rhys." "Why didn't you tell me?" "I-we didn't want to give you false hope. And we didn't dare let Rhysand get wind of what we were doing, in case he found a way to interfere. To stop it." -ACOWAR 56

Tamlin had begged my forgiveness at dinner yesterday-and I'd given it to him. But Lucien hadn't spoken to him all evening. -ACOWAR 71

I was running out of borrowed time. I could winnow, but then I'd abandon Lucien to them if he somehow couldn't manage to himself with the faebane in his system from the food at the camp- Leave him. I should and could leave him. But to a fate perhaps worse than death- His russet eye gleamed. "Go" I made my choice. -ACOWAR 91

I often seen the last one used as evidence that Feyre was a good friend to Lucien who didn't deserve it and it always flabbergasts me that people think that from that passage of all passages. That entire scene is mostly just Feyre mentally complaining because stepping in and helping Lucien (who is being SA'd when she finds him and then later is having his life and/or sanity threatened) is causing her to waste time she needs to flee. She keeps telling herself that now that Alis is gone she doesn't need to feel guilty for what happens to Spring Court-including Lucien. She only steps in to protect Lucien from Ianthe because it's Ianthe and her hatred of her is stronger than her empathy for what Lucien went through. She only steps in and decides to stay and fight the twins AFTER Lucien urges her to leave him and save herself.

Lucien again and again and again steps in and protects Feyre, gives her advice, comforts her, argues with Tamlin for her, puts himself in danger for her, gives her presents (despite not getting any in return) and proves himself to be what Rhys told Feyre later in ACOWAR: loyal to a fault.

Not just to Elain, not just to Tamlin, not just the Band of Exiles. But to her as well. To Feyre almost most of all.

and in return Feyre takes his genuine concern for her and protectiveness over her and wields it as a weapon to tear his home down and goad Tamlin into violence with little care. She takes her friend and at best considers him a tool to be used for her and Night Court's benefit and expects him to show her nothing but gratitude.

I do think Feyre loves Lucien and wants him to stay in her life, but honey Lucien was always the better friend.

[croquettish]

First of all, really love your meta! Especially your takes on Hans and the depth with which you analyze the game's dialogue. But did I miss something, how is Sam also queer? Are there any signs in the story? I know about the rings (which seem to be a case of the reused assets to me), but is there anything else?

Thank you so much!! ����

If you read between the lines, there are a lot of hints! Sam is incredibly protective of John to the point of endangering those around him (Henry nearly killed his two best men). Even with all the reassurances in the world, he only agrees to Henry's request to see John under the condition that he go there unarmed and blindfolded. And even after John has cleared Henry, Sam still stays and drinks with them. There likewise seems to be a tremendous amount of trust between him and John that I would argue wouldn't necessarily be there (or at least not in as intense a form as it is) if there weren't more there.

If you listen in on the dialogue while Henry is blindfolded (it's quiet!), you'll hear John speaking to others there. His tone is surprisingly firm for someone who could very well just be a "guest" being protected, never mind the part where he's talking about finding intel on whether someone has male or female lovers. The people there treat him with nothing but respect and will even take orders from him. And when the progrom happens, John is allowed to come along. You could argue that they could use all the help they could get, but recall that Hans' aid was turned down! John was trusted to help save his mother and to extract important documents.

All of this wouldn't be unusual for a long of characters, mind you, but Sam isn't a very trusting person. He's distrusting by nature, and he has good reason to be! His people have been persecuted since time immemorial and they very much continue to be in 1403. We learn that Sam just took John in without question, but even that feels like a statement. You'll recall that I've previously talked about the commonalities between medieval Jews and sodomites, both of whom were (along with others) viewed as inherently heretical. Both are marginalized groups that could only exist openly in marginalized spaces, spaces situated outside of the expected societal "norm" where being Othered is a given. John enters such a space willingly and looking for protection, being as openly fruity as he is. Sam meets this vulnerability and takes him in without question.

If we consider that the storytelling in KCD2 is done with intent (and there wouldn't be this much meta for me to write about if it hadn't been), then we can also consider that the parallel here is intentional and meant to reflect Hansry. Here we have two people in a marginalized space, one of whom is a noble who willingly entered that space after finding himself in a place of vulnerability. The peasant in question, well-acquainted with both vulnerability and marginalization, opened his arms to him.

Actually, while my mind is whirring, let's take this a step further. Because I'm still obsessed with the jamuel art drawn by @lookitsstevie, let's assume that while Sam takes him in, he still distances himself and keeps himself away from John for a while before they actually get together (the yearning!!!). That would so neatly parallel both Hans' attempts at pushing Henry away (yeah I've totally got this not at all fake girlfriend also named Karolina in Bohunowitz that I totally slept with don't you loooove sleeping with women Henry I can't wait until we get trashed again!!) and then Henry pushing Hans away later as well. That one is more of a stretch, but you get me.

Finally, the rings. I hear what you're saying about reused assets, but there's a lot of counterpoints to all of this that should be taken into consideration:

Reused assets are definitely a thing, but mostly for minor NPCs, not major characters. Consider how surprised everyone was by the (very effective!) fakeout with Captain Thomas and his unique character model.

Those rings have Sam's name on them. I don't think there would be a reason for random NPCs to wear rings like that.

The sartorial style choices by the major characters in this game were clearly meticulously considered and decided on on a case-by-case basis where everyone is unique. No one else is dressed in the dapper way that John is, for instance!

The rings were not there from the start. They were added in with Patch 1.3.1 with intent.

We all did collectively consider that they added the rings in error and were pleasantly surprised when Patch 1.3.2 didn't take them away. As we know, Warhorse does keep its finger on the pulse of what the fandom is saying, and there's no way that the collective celebration over the canonization of Jamuel would have gone unheard by them. Even if John's ring was initially added in error, this means they were left there with intent.

One could say that Sam gave John a ring with his name on it (Did he... did he just have that casually lying around? Why would anyone own two rings with their name on it, it's not like he needs a spare, this seems very odd if not done with intent) to grant John some element of protection within the Jewish quarter, a sign that John is under Sam's protection, but it ends up coming off almost as a sign of ownership more than anything else, like "you touch him and you deal with me," which in and of itself feels tremendously gay. Moreover, we know that John doesn't really leave the tavern to begin with. Raborsch is a rare exception where he's able to go out, and even there he's accompanied by John!!

All in all, I'd say you'd struggle to argue that this ship isn't canon, which of course would automatically canonize Sam as queer as well.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Members Only 3

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Grace is asleep as the streetcar drives up to the gate of the Shelby abode. You look over at her as the driver rolls through and toward the house. He stops just around the other side of the fountain, the water trickling down like music. 

“Mrs. Shelby?” You say. She’s slumped against the seat. “Mrs. Shelby? Are you okay?” 

She doesn’t respond. You touch her arm lightly. You’re terrified. One time she asked you to zip a dress then lashed out at you when it got stuck part way. 

“Mrs. Shelby?” You repeat a third time. 

Nothing. You’re all alone and helpless. You can’t leave her out here, but you also don’t know how to get her inside. 

You stretch your fingers around her arm. You tug her. She jerks then folds forward. 

“Mrs. Shelby, I’m sorry.” You push her back up. Her body is slack. She’s heavier than you expect.  

You lean her back and stare at her silhouette. Would the driver help? You hold her in place and slowly peel your hand away. 

You slide over the seat and get out. You go around her side and grab the handle. You slowly open it. You bend to look at her. She’s dead asleep. 

You lean in and hook your arms under hers. You really don’t think you’re strong enough. You try to move her. You grunt and nearly fall into her lap. 

“Come on, Mrs. Shelby. Please,” you beg. 

A flash of light startles you. You pull back but Mrs. Shelby nearly falls out. You catch her, digging in your heels, and hold her up with all your strength. You look back at the headlights drawing up behind the streetcar. 

The engine rolls over and the night air quiets once more. The fountain water plucks like woodwinds. A car door opens and shuts and footsteps stride up the stonework. You watch Mr. Shelby as he approaches. 

“Mr. Shelby, I—I'm sorry. She must be tired.” 

“Tired?” He tuts. “Allow me.” 

“I’m sorry,” you utter again. “I tried--” 

He comes close and leans in. He brushes close and you back away, crushed against the car door as he crowds you. He lifts her, draping her over his shoulder with a sigh. You wince as he reaches for you. He grips the car door and you blink. 

You move out of the way. He shuts the door and you hover around him nervously. Should you go home? Do you follow him? 

“You shouldn’t have to try,” he rebukes. “My wife should walk upon her own strength and not leave even her most basic labour upon you.” 

“Sir, I...” You trail after him. You haven’t been dismissed after all. She’ll need help. “I apologise.” 

“Which you should stop,” he climbs the curved steps up to the front doors. 

You get ahead of him and open them. He enters. You step inside and quickly pull off your shoes. He keeps his one as he marches across the echoing foyer. 

You keep two feet back from his heels. You’d hate to tread on them. He carries Mrs. Shelby’s limp body upstairs and down the hall. You open her bedroom door as well. You suppose it’s his as well though she cried to Charlotte how he rarely slept in the bed. That’s none of your business. 

He lays her on the bed as you go into the attached bathroom. You take a clean white washcloth and run cold water over it. You wring it out then smooth it. You go out and near Mrs. Shelby. You wipe her forehead with the wet cloth. 

You gently clean away her layers of makeup. She’s really a beautiful woman. She could wear less. You quietly work away. 

Mr. Shelby clears his throat. You jump and glance back at him. You assumed he’d left. You give a sheepish look. 

“You put great care into your work.” He comments. He stands, hands in his pocket, eyes set on you. 

“Mrs. Shelby isn’t feeling well.” You look at her again and wipe her lips gently. “She’ll need water. I’ll get her some and maybe if she stirs, some tea.” 

He shifts. “I’ll fetch the water.” 

“Sir, I can do it. It’s my job.” 

“Is it?” He wonders. 

You stare at him. You’re not sure. You focus again on Mrs. Shelby. You don’t look up again until you hear him go. 

You put the cloth aside. You drag the blankets out from under Mrs. Shelby then pull them to her waist. You tidy her hair and adjust her head on the pillow. She’s not going to feel very well tomorrow. 

Mr. Shelby returns. He crosses the room and pulls a mother of pearl coaster from the stack near the lamp. He puts the glass of water down. 

You stare at his wife. You snatch up the wet cloth and squeeze it. You spin and scurry away. You put the cloth in the hamper before you enter the bathroom. You grab the bin and return with it. 

“In case she is sick,” you set it beside the bed. “Should she be on her back?” 

He hums. He rolls his wife and leans her on her stomach. He stands straight and clucks down at her. 

“I owe you an apology. For her. She would too but we both know she’ll never give it,” he faces you. “I have another favour to ask.” 

“Favour? Sir. I work for Mrs. Shelby. It’s my job.” 

“No, I’m not your job,” he drawls. “But you mentioned tea. Might I trouble you to brew some before you’re off?” 

You nod and stare at his tie. A nice grey and black paisley. “I can do that, sir. No trouble.” 

You sidestep him. You go out of the room and hear him follow a few paces back. The switch click off as you get to the staircase. The door shuts with a snap. 

You descend and go to the kitchen. You put the kettle onto boil and take down a painted mug. You measure leaves into a steeper and hook it over the brim. The water steams and you pour. 

You wait. You smell the tea. You can just tell it’s just right. Or rather, just how you like it. You remove the steeper and empty it, rinse it, then put it aside to dry. 

You pick up the cup and pause. You realise, you don’t know where Mr. Shelby would be. You turn and nearly shriek. He sits at the square island on one of the high stools. He watches you. 

You come around the marble counter and place the cup before him. “Milk? Sugar?” 

“Touch of milk, please,” he intones. 

“Yes, sir.” 

You flit to the fridge and take out the glass jug. You bring it to him. He gestures to his cup. You add a small dollop. A cloud plumes in the reddish brew. 

You take the milk back to the fridge. You face him again as he watches the tea change colour. He hooks his finger through the handle and lifts it. He sniffs before he tastes. 

“Perfect. Finely steeped,” he praises, keeping the cup before his lips. 

“Sir.” You bow your chin. 

He watches you over the rim. His blue eyes sparkle and he inhales. He sets the cup down. He grabs the knot of his tie and loosens it. 

“Tommy,” he insists. “No one else around.” 

“Yes, s—Tommy,” you toy with his name on your tongue. “Is there anything else I might get you?” 

His gaze lingers for a moment then falls to the tea. “No, suppose not. You will go home and sleep.” 

“Thank you,” you say. “Have a good night, sir.” You go to the door and stop. You look back at him and catch him watching again. “Tommy,” you correct yourself. 

[cloverrwritess]

Title: Number One Fanboy | Part One

Spencer Agnew x Kpop Idol! Fem! Reader

Request: Yes | No

authors note: I can finally get into the requests! I have a month off to visit my home town so I have time to write fics ♡ job was kicking my ass 🥲

Words in italics font are supposed to be in korean! I do know a bit (had to learn for my job) but not enough to be fluent, translating takes a lot of time so I’m using Italics to make it easier for me 🤧

☆☆☆

After days since the finalization of a certain meeting with your management, you were able to go to LA and start your new series ‘[Name] in LA’, a series where you navigate the area by yourself and experience the so-called ‘LA lifestyle’.

You landed around one in the morning to avoid paparazzi and fans, your place to stay for the month was a Suite in one of the expensive hotels in the area that only celebrities can get access to, a private driver that was one call away, as well as a tiny, rotating camera.

Flying from Korea to LA was no joke, hours of just sitting down and sitting, limiting what you can do inside a plane is exhausting.

☆☆☆

You turned on your camera and started filming.

"Welcome to the first episode of [name] in LA, it's actually so late right now around two am and I need to wake up early to film. Before I go to bed, I'm doing my skincare"

You started washing your face and applied skincare, sometimes giving out the benefits of using certain products. You grabbed the camera and placed it on your nightstand, making sure you were in frame.

"Before sleeping I do like to check my schedule to see if everything is in order, it keeps me from overthinking"

Checking your phone to see if nothing was changed and did a little pep talk on why you should never stay up late at night even though that’s what you’re doing currently.

“My eyes are getting droopy, I need to sleep before it’s 5am, goodnight everyone, see you tomorrow or is it good morning? i'll see you later” You chuckled, turning the camera off and getting comfy before finally closing your eyes.

☆☆☆

You adjust your mask and hat before speaking to the camera.

"Good morning! It's now the next day and my first stop is a trendy cafe I saw online, the pastries and coffee looked so good, let's go"

You were looking at your phone to see if you’re going in the right direction. Still holding the mini camera, doing some small talk to make sure you’re not filming a boring clip that might get cut.

Seeing the sign and name of the cafe, you felt relieved. "Hopefully the food is yummy” You opened the door and got hit by the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet smell of bread, you got in line and looked at the menu from above. Struggling to choose between caramel or vanilla iced coffee. "This is difficult"

Then a voice spoke up behind you.

"If I were you, I would buy the caramel iced coffee." You looked at the direction of the voice, a man with curly hair and wired glasses.

"You looked like you were struggling to decide on what to order”

Immediately turning off the camera and hiding it inside your purse, you replied.

"Yes, I was having trouble"

I've never been good at striking up a conversation with strangers without getting recognized or having people approach me to take pictures. "Are you new to this place? I've been here for years and I don't recognize you"

"Yeah, I’m here for work so I’m just exploring the area" You lied, technically you are here for work, but not in a way other people would understand.

"LA is a big city, and you'll wind up walking in circles at the end of the day” He joked.

Noticing it was your turn in line, You ordered a pastry with coffee, you took your wallet out of your bag to make the payment. "Your total is $11.50" Suddenly the man you were speaking to handed his card to the cashier "I'll pay for her order and get a caramel iced coffee as well"

He looked at me and grinned—my goodness, he had the cutest smile I've ever seen. "You didn't have to do that, umm" Realizing you never asked for his name.

"My name is Spencer" He said

"Want to take a seat together? If you're uncomfortable or simply want to be by yourself, I can leave you alone, No hard feelings" he said.

I didn't have my security with me, so I knew it was a bad idea to sit with a complete stranger, but this is the first time I've felt normal (as in with no cameras in front of me, flashing lights, and no screaming my name)in a long time. It's exhausting to walk around with bodyguards; I haven't experienced this in years. Spencer doesn't give me any creep vibes.

"I'll pick a good spot."

☆☆☆

I chose a window seat that was somewhat out of sight of the large window. I couldn't pass a nice seat with good lighting, even though I knew this place was a bad spot, paranoid being caught by crazy fans

"You weren't kidding when you said you'd pick a good spot, this seat is usually occupied around this time" He said and set our food and drinks on the table.

"Just telling you know, my lunch ends in like 20 minutes so we have 20 minutes to chat" He sat down in front of me and took a sip of his coffee.

"Is your workplace close by?"

"Yeah, this coffee shop is only a few blocks away from where I work, I work as the director and editor for this YouTube channel"

"Really? That's so cool" Not only was he cute, he was also a media nerd.

"The channel is called Smosh, and I occasionally appear on camera as a cast member” he chuckled, adding "I do kind of the weirdest things on camera for people to see”

"How about you? My heart fell out of my chest. I can't just say, ‘I'm an Idol from Korea’ out in the open Although he doesn't appear to be a K-pop fan, looks can be deceiving these days.

He was waiting for me to respond "Well, I work in the entertainment industry" I replied fast.

"Private, got it, don't worry, I'm not going to ask more questions" He assured me.

Who knew that meeting a guy at a coffee shop would turn out to be the funniest guy I've ever met? We chatted for a while and laughed at jokes. Spencer checked his watch, he saw that it was well past his lunch break. He got up and straightened his clothes. "Shit, I have to direct a video and I'm thirty minutes late”

"It was nice meeting you—"

"[Name] is my name." I grinned at him.

"Hopefully, You and I will cross paths again" Before I knew it, I was the only person at the table. I moved Spencer's cup out of the way so it wouldn't be visible on camera as I recorded a clip of me at the coffee shop, acting as if I just had a snack by myself. I adjusted my hat and put on my face mask.

"It's time to make my day productive”

☆☆☆

Spencer ran toward the Smosh games set looking unkempt.

"What took you so long?" Angela questioned, dramatically motioning with her hands.

"We were going to go hire a search party for you." Amanda joked.

"Sorry, I just lost track of time," I lied, I knew they would make fun of me for weeks if they found out the real reason why I was late.

Watching Spencer intently, Shayne interrupted both Amanda and Angela "Come on, let him sit down and film the video."

After filming a new Bored AF video, Shayne decided to confront Spencer.

"Spence, are you alright? Shayne jokes, "You look like you're constipated throughout directing the video" but his voice was laced with concern.

"I think I just met the love of my life" The confession caused Shayne's eyes to widen a little. "You met them at the coffee shop you always go to?”

I ruffled my hair out of nervousness and said, "Yeah man, She said she is new here in LA, and I'm telling you, she's fucking gorgeous"

"Whoa, I've never heard someone speak like that before”

"I know it's really cheesy, but I'm not kidding—her appearance made her look like an idol or even a celebrity"

Thinking, Shayne rubbed his chin. "You say a celebrity? What's her name? He said, "We can look her up"

"What? Dude, I don't want to Google her and pry into her life; that's creep behavior" I remembered her expression when I asked about her work. It seemed confidential, and I didn't want to break her trust that fast.

"Yeah you're right, what I said just now was a stupid idea"

"Just keep this a secret from everyone, especially Courtney” To show that he was going to keep this a secret, Shayne drew an "X" on his chest and zipped his mouth for dramatic effects.

☆☆☆

note: 🫣

[karinamariee]

norman fucking rockwell.

pairing: toxic!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: he was just a man, but he was your man, and he was too hard to let go of.

warnings: minors dni, use of y/n

authors note: wow, i didn’t even know this could come out of me (just like drew came in me last night) and yes i skipped around the song for the end!!

—————————————————————————

god damned man child, you fucked me so good that i almost said i love you

“you like that?” rafe asked, shoving his hips roughly against yours. you nodded your head, no words able to come out of your mouth except for moans.

rafe grabbed you by your neck, pulling your head up toward his. “fuckin’ say it, baby.”

“i love this, rafe,” you whispered.

“good girl.”

he rutted his hips against yours like a horny dog. even if you wanted it to stop, you wouldn’t be able to have it your way. your legs were already coated by your prior three orgasms and your bud was so sensitive, but by the time you were going to complain, he hit that g spot so good, you just threw your head back into the pillow behind you.

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut,” said rafe. “always wanting this cock.”

“yes…”

“it’s better than jj could ever do,” said rafe, “right, baby?”

“so much better.”

drew came balls deep inside of you, not even daring to pull out as your came all over his cock, legs on his shoulders, toes curling, eyes in the back of you head.

you’re fun and you’re wild

“rafe!”

rafe laughed lightheartedly as he slid his hand to your behind, squeezing harshly as he bit his lip like a horny teenager.

“c’mon, baby,” he said. “we’ll be so fuckin’ quick.”

“you shoved me in a closet at my best friends wedding,” you said.

his lips were on yours the second you said that, grinding his hips against yours as you felt him rock hard against you. you loved how you could only make rafe feel this way. he was so fucking good to you.

he turned you around, placing your hands on the door frames, pulling your dress up. his hands slid your pink thong down and quickly undid his belt, throwing it to the side.

“if someone outta walk in, they’re gonna see your fuckin’ face, baby,” said rafe. “gonna be so fuckin’ hot.”

you giggled as you reached back to push him up against you. he quickly slid his length into your tight hole. you couldn’t help but let out a little moan as he moved quickly. you, for the most part, was good at keeping quite, but this situation couldn’t get any worse. at your best friends wedding, in a closet, getting dick you so much very deserved.

but you don’t know half of the shit that you put me through

“what’s wrong with you!” you yell. you didn’t know why rafe always did this to you. you two would be doing so good and then he ruined it by fucking another girl, and you stayed, and that was your fault this time and the times before.

“this is what you get, y/n,” he answered calmly. “this is what you get for standing me up on our date. you should be mad. you should be hurt, you should be jealous, you should be envious.” he walked over to you, you backing up a little bit he caught you by your waste, pulling you closer to his body. he bent down and whispered:

“it’ll be this way until you smarten up.”

why wait for the best when i could have you?

you knew that rafe wasn’t good for you. you let him cheat on you and you stayed. he could do anything and you would say. he fucked too so good and loves you well enough but you didn’t want this to end. even when he shoved his dick into other girls and then into you, you knew he never fucked any of them as good as he fucked you. and when he laid in bed with you, you knew it was you. it always was you. and it was always him.

[katanaflower]

Make-up

Sky x Sevika

You know that one picture of that girl sitting on that other girl while doing her makeup? Yeah. Sky and Sevika should have been endgame. Enjoy this fluffy goodness.

“You’re falling asleep.” Sky whined, dragging the concealer under the winged liner. 

Sky should have known that doing her girlfriend's makeup while in bed would lead to this. But she couldn't resist the chance of sitting on her lap while playing with her makeup. Sevika's strong arms wrapped around her, hands exploring whatever skin was exposed as Sky hunched over her work.

“You told me to keep my eyes closed for this part, so that’s what I’m doing.” Sevika grumbled, her hand rubbing up and down the side of Sky’s thigh. 

“Because you keep staring at me while I work!” She explained as she blended, her face feeling warm. 

“Where else am I supposed to look?” Even with her eyes closed she was still expressive, arching her brow. 

“I don’t know, anywhere else!” She giggled as she finished the eye portion. “Okay, now you can open them and you can look at me.” 

Sevika did so, staring straight up at Sky with her pupils growing in adoration. Fighting the urge to smile, Sky turned to grab some lip liner. 

“You know you’re real pretty when you get flustered.” Sevika purred with a smirk, her hand making its way up to Sky’s waist, sneaking under her shirt. 

“Hush. We’re moving on to the lips.” 

“Finally.” Sevika groaned. 

Her hand went to the back of Sky’s neck, pulling her down to her lips as she squealed with delight. 

“Let. Me. Line. Your. Lips. Sevika!” Sky giggled in between kisses. 

“Fine.” She finally released her, smirk plastered on her smug face. 

"Just be patient, this is the last step." She reassured her as she fished through her makeup bag, pulling out a lip liner and lipstick.

"This better be, you said that two steps ago." She grumbled as Sky worked.

"Because I was originally going for a natural look. But I really need to see this color on you."

After finally lining she popped open the lipstick tube and filled in her full lips. That's when she finished, beaming proudly at her girl.

"Done?" Sevika asked.

"Yes."

"Do I look pretty?"

"You always look pretty, baby. But yes, you look pretty. Beautiful."

Sevika sat up, grabbing Sky's jaw, and pulling her in for a kiss.

"Wait!" Sky said as she pulled away. "I forgot the setting spray!" She reached for her bag.

"No, no! We're done!" Sevika groaned, pushing her down on the bed, and caging her in.

"But I need to set it!" She squealed as she smothered her in kisses.

"Shut up and kiss me!" She laughed, falling more in love as their lips met, the two of them still smiling.