#I promise you can show me all your little guys

[ziminy]

Coming back to you

How to get back with your ex

Tags: smut, minors and ageless blogs do not interact, f!reader, normal au (because we suffered enough), my bbg Caleb the manipulative king he is (break me in half and all I'll say is thank you), implied stalking (if you squint), creampie, oral (f! receiving), fingering, marking, dirty talk, praising, size difference, little bit of crying, not proofread

Author's note: almost lvl 60 affinity with him, it was hard work and a lot of dedication. Trust me when I say I won't be able to recover financially from this any time soon.

Masterlist

Life was good when you were together, and somehow it even better after breaking up. It's not like your split up was messy, because you two parted ways on mutual accord, deciding that this isn't going to work since both of you were so busy lately. Why dragging the other down when you have your futures set?

In fact, the break up wasn't even supposed to be a break up, you were supposed to take a little break from each other that turned into a break up some time later. You said that you'd still be friends, that it's alright to talk and greet each other if you somehow managed to meet again.

But it was all lies. Both of you knew that. Because you never texted each other after that, and somehow you tried to avoid all the places he might be at. You don't really know why you're doing that, if just.. you feel a little uncomfortable looking back at what you two used to have.

Perhaps it was the way he looked at you, how he leaned down to talk to you, or that dumb smile that made your heart skip a beat.

He was caring, attentive, maybe a bit obsessive, perhaps a bit insane too. And maybe that what scared you, kept you away from dating again. Finding another one like him. God, what if you had the misfortune to wake up with another one like him at your door? You'd rather jump out the window than have the luck of getting another Caleb.

But he was good, in his own ways.

Well.. you can't really name any of his good traits at the moment, but he was a great guy. If you put aside his manipulative side, that he doesn't even try to hide to begin with.

You promised yourself to not fall for another guy like him, that empty words mean nothing to you. Threats had no effect, and you don't feel guilty anymore over things that you shouldn't be to begin with.

So, why was he here? You were supposed to meet with the old friend group, to reconnect and talk about the old days and how college used to be. I mean, he was part of the group, but why exactly was he here? And why did nobody told you he was coming?

"It's so good to see you guys!" one of your friends said, instantly jumping from person to person to hug.

"I feel like we're young again." someone else said, making you shake your head and let out a soft laugh. You can't show that you're affected, you're all grown now, you matured. He had no effect on you anymore. Even if it only been a year, you're still a different person that you were a few months ago.

"We aren't old to begin with." you said with a smile on your face. "How haves everyone been?" you sounded so calm, like you forgot how much stress was put on you back then. Everybody looks in much better shape after graduation, perhaps that place was rough for everyone.

"Let's just skip greetings and drink." of course there was that one person. "Caleb, you pay." everybody's eyes were on the tall man.

"You brought your wallet, no? Why should I pay." your eyes made contact for a moment, and you felt your face getting hotter. This night better go quick, because you don't know for how much longer you can handle this.

Everything was how it was back then, the way you sit in groups at the bar. How you found yourself next to the same girls you used to, deciding that you don't want to be loud and take it easy, just like before.

"So, how have life been for you? Haven't heard anything from you after we graduate." one of the girls looked at you, reminding you of how you chose to go no contact with everybody after your breakup.

"You and Caleb broke up? I thought you'd last a life time." is there nothing better to talk about?

"I'm a career woman now." you decided to change the subject, rather chosing to talk about work that your failed relationship.

"Oh?" why everybody looked so surprised was a mystery. But somehow you understood their reactions, you're also surprised you went this path.

"Got any boyfriends?" they still want to get info on your personal life, huh? Well, guess you won't be able to dodge that question any time soon.

"Nothing at the moment. Just focusing on work."

"I guess it's hard to date again. Normal guys must be so bland, not comparing to that piece of meat over there." you looked displeased with your friends choice of words. Yes, your ex might look good, but looks isn't what matters right now. Your well being was your top priority, and you enjoyed the freedom you had way too much.

"I'd be like that too if I had your ex. Imagine recovering from that." you don't even have to imagine.

"Is it even humanly possible to find somebody who's better than him?" their questions doesn't affect you, because you already know that you're the best you'd find. You understand and give yourself more than enough space that it's needed. So the right questions was if he will be able to find someone as good as you, because he won't.

"He's looking in this direction." the girls started giggling, and somehow, this was nostalgic.

Didn't this happened already? Before you started dating, right before you two confessed your feelings. Because somehow, you managed to do that at the same time. It was funny, if you're thinking about it. How you two were so in sync, you had no idea.

"Go talk to him." the girl next to you tried to push you, to make you get up and walk to the dark haired man.

"Don't want to." you kept avoiding any eye contact ever since you got in that bar. If you don't acknowledge him then he doesn't even exist to you.

"But he's looking at you." you grabbed the drink in front of you and gulped everything down your throat, trying to ignore him.

"Are you shy?" the girls started giggling again.

It was annoying. Why can't they understand that it's over? He understands this, so why can't they do it as well?

"We don't have anything to talk about."

"But he seems to want to?" it doesn't matter even if they point it out. It's been a long time already, you both moved on.

"Isn't there anything you want to tell him? Like things you didn't got the chance to while you were together?"

"This is the time to clear any bad blood between the two of you." but that wasn't necessary.

Frustrated, you looked in his direction. Eyebrows furrowed and biting on your lip so you wouldn't let out any curses you wanted to say at the moment. That classical expression, looking like he's good, even if there was no smile on his face, but he kept nodding to what his friends were saying. His eyes were betraying him however, those sleepy eyes, looking at you like you were more interesting, like he had to or else you'd evaporate from there or who knows what worse. It wasn't often when you'd see him like that, so you can't even answer your own questions on why he seemed like that.

No, if you payed attention to his surroundings, his friends might be annoying him. Saying something that he doesn't like, or.. they were talking about you. Just the way your friends were talking about him.

Was he feeling like that because he didn't want to talk to you either? No, you doubt that. It's probably because you refuse to give him any attention.

You turned to face the girls around you, who still seemed to push you to him. Maybe you should in fact go for it?

But, was there really anything that needed to be said? You don't have any regrets, you can't think of anything you want to say. And he's the same, even if he looked like he was holding back from time to time. You doubt he ever did something he's regretting. After all, you matched each other's freaks. You managed to stay together for that long just because you completed the other, understood yourselfs on a level no one else around you could.

Was this why you were pushed to him? Because everyone knew how well you fit each other?

You looked at your friends one more time, sighing as you finally gave up. You're still afraid to approach him, because he was still intimidating in a way you can't explain.

Or you can, because whenever you look at him you feel a chill down your spine. Your head was filled with stuff you said to him in the past, memories coming back to embarrass you, to make you forget what you want to do so you'd fuck up in front of him.

You stopped in front of him, staring at him as he looked at you. He still had that expression on his face, like you're still his softest spot, his weakness that makes him weak in the knees when he's around you. You opened your mouth, trying to say something but then forgetting everything once you looked into his purple eyes.

You can't be like this forever, you had to step up your game. You really had to move on, and maybe that's what you have to talk with him. Because he seems to be stuck in the past too. "You have time?" you noticed the way he almost raised his hand, to grab onto you and drag you closer like he always did. But he held back, because he knew this wasn't the time.

"Yeah." he tried to keep it nonchalantly, but you could see past his poorly executed facade. Should you feel happy with how you still affect him? You feel like you could laugh.

"Wanna talk outside?" you don't even know why you said outside of all places. You wanted to stay inside, where everybody else was. You wanted to have a reason to keep it cool, to not lose yourself in your emotions, because you know you'll fuck up if you're alone with him.

He got up, standing much taller than you as he followed you quietly. Seriously, this was like a deja vu. You still remember how you used to follow him just the way he's doing now. Not questioning a thing, and trusting him a bit too much. But you also had no idea where you're going. All you know is that you want to go outside, take some fresh air, say a few words and then go back to your friends.

For a moment, he got in front of you, opening the door and letting you walk out first. He used to do this all the time, didn't he? You almost forgot about it.

You walked a little further from the bar, resting your back against a building's wall as you looked at the sunset. No one said a thing, and the distance between the two of you was colder than the night's breeze.

"So.." a few words and then go back, that's all. You can go to your friends after this and rest. "How have you been." avoid eye contact, because you don't know when you'll fuck up, look forward, don't let yourself be distracted.

"Busy." his voice still makes something in your head ring, like a little bell that seems to not calm down until he said so. "You?"

"Busy." you couldn't even think of what to say, just biting your lip in frustration.

It was quiet again, like both of you forgot how to communicate.

For a moment, you looked to your left, at where the bar was, and then at him, catching him staring at you with a expression you can't quite explain. Sadness? No, it was a mixture of sad and frustration. And you understood him. He had you this close, next to him, and yet he couldn't do anything.

"You're bigger than I remember." you don't even know why you said that. It's just.. he looks different and you can't exactly say what it was.

"I stopped growing a long time ago." he kept looking at you, at the way you were scanning him for anything that it might have changed. "Maybe you're the one who shrinked." he extended his hand, he doesn't really know why, but it seemed alright in that moment. Like he knew you wouldn't run anymore. "My hands are still the same."

You looked at his palm, at his long fingers and at the way he looks so familiar, yet new. Like you forgot how his body looked for a moment, like you were back in the past before you two started dating. Because you did this back then too, you were in this situation before.

How he was trying to tame you, let you touch him just the way you want, explore and discover more. All just to show you how inoffensive he is, that he's not a threat.

And you bite the bait every single time. Taking his hand in yours, slowly touching it just to see if it was indeed like what you remember.

You should put more effort if you don't want him back in your life. Just look at you, you look like you've missed him so so much. You shouldn't be this sweet or else you might not be able to break up again this time.

He tried his luck, interlocking his fingers with yours, and showing you more of that size difference you haven't seen in a while.

You don't reject him, his actions only made you be more curious. What else was he hiding? You looked up at him, only to see that expression again. You really didn't understand how his eyes can be just this dark, like there was absolutely no life in them, only a purple abyss that seems to drag you in towards him.

"It's getting dark." he said in a low voice, forgetting that he was supposed not to scare you for a moment. "Let me drive you home." he's the same as ever. Getting ahead of himself just because he was able to feel your perfume for once, the same scent that you had since back then. It suited you, and he missed it.

"Alright." he always knew how to calm you, let down your guard so he can get more under your skin. Or perhaps you were doing that voluntarily, because he doubts you'd be like this just for anybody.

The ride back to your place was quiet, only the radio on, playing some mainstream songs over and over again.

The silence was loud, but not uncomfortable. It was better this way because you had nothing to say. And he will not talk until you talk.

But once you got to your house, you somehow didn't wanted to get out the car just yet. It's just.. can't he stay? You don't know why you want him there, and you don't want answers to that.

"You're.." you played with your fingers. "You're not busy, right?" you avoided his eyes, or to look in his direction at all. This was all his doing, wearing that one fragrance that made your head spin, and the shirt that he knew was your favorite. "Want to come inside?" you're doing this on your own accord. Because he wouldn't push you over your limits like this, especially when you just met again after a long time.

You came to him, you talked to him, and you dragged him into your home on your own. He didn't do anything, this was all your doing.

You were brave enough to make the first move, so he might as well reward you for it, no?

You didn't looked surprised when you started kissing the moment the front door closed behind you, you also looked unfazed when he started taking off your clothes, now going towards your bedroom, looking for a bed so he could place you on it.

How could you forget this feeling? Or the way he used to take care of you. Always stopping you from lifting a single finger, not letting you do anything until you start begging him, or worse, do things without even warning him first.

"Tell me if it hurts." he placed a kiss on your cheek before going down, biting softly on your skin and leaving kisses all over the places he touched. He was going to mark all of your body, so people would see a part of him on you even if you're not together.

He stopped when he got to your pussy, leaving a kiss on your inner thigh, before placing his lips over your heat. He was going to scream, he missed this so much that he just couldn't help but let out a lustful moan deep from the bottom of his heart.

How could you left him? Take this away from him, leave him all alone to suffer. If he didn't craved so much for you he would have punished you for it.

"You're so tight." he said as he got two of his fingers inside.

"It's been a while since I did it." he looked up at you from between your legs, placing a kiss on your clit.

"Have you done it with someone else?" he was asking as if he didn't knew everything you did while he was gone. And yet, hes jealous.

"No." you shook your head. "What about you?" are you questioning his loyalty?

"Did you touched yourself?" if this was his way of changing the subject, then it wasn't working. Because it only made you want to ask the same thing, embarras him just the way he did to you.

"Did you?" he should feel embarrassed, ashamed or anything between those two, but no, it was just you who feeling that way.

"Every time I missed you." seriously, can he calm down for a moment. You can't take it. "You didn't do a good job." he said, licking on your clit as his fingers curled up. "But I guess you can't do much with those fingers of yours." you couldn't face him when he was saying such dirty words. "Did you had a hard time stuffing yourself? Don't worry, I'll do it for you from now on." you placed a hand over his face, to cover his eyes so he would stop looking at you.

"Don't look at me." you whimper. "It's embarrassing." you were always so easy to tease.

"Alright." he moved your hand away. "I'm sorry." he was in fact not, but if that's what you want to hear then he'll lie again and again, as long as you're happy.

Your pleasure was more important to him. So he focused on that, paying attention to the places that made you melt, on your soft voice and your touch. You're still so hesitant, like you don't really trust him, like you're still testing the waters.

What more do you want from him? What can he possible give that he haven't gave you already? You have his heart, you have his mind and soul, his well being is all yours, his body and everything he owns. So give him attention, touch him more and tell him that he's doing good because he's about to burst.

For a moment he looked up at you, just to see how you're doing, to check on you and make sure you're alright.

How did he lived for so long without looking at you was a mystery. Why he accepted you leaving him and trying to move on. Who else is going to make you feel like this? You need him, you needed his cock and his touch.

But he's not going to fuck up, since it's been a while since you last did it, he shouldn't push you. So, he placed a last kiss on your clit before taking his fingers out of you, leaving you panting and waiting for more. He didn't even let you cum, how mean of him.

Still, how dumb of him, to come here with nothing on him, not even a single condom. I mean, it wasn't really his fault because he never knew he'll end up like this.

"Take it off, your clothes." you were all naked while he was still fully dressed. He also looked like he wasn't planning on getting undressed any time soon and it was annoying you.

"I don't have any condoms." that was the problem?

"It don't matter." you took him by surprise. "Come here." you knew how rail him up. And you better not regret your decision later.

You looked at him taking off his shirt, his defined muscles jumping right into your face. You were right when you said he looked bigger, he must be working out a lot more lately. He took his pants off after, your eyes on his hard cock as he came back next to you.

"Relax." he said when he got between your legs. "Look at me." it would only be harder for you if you keep overthinking. Yeah, he was big, so what. He's going to give you all the time in the world until you adjust yourself to take him. It's gonna be hard at first, but it's going to be so much easier once he models your insides into the shape of his cock. And that's a promise, believe him.

He slowly pushed the head of his dick inside your wet core, making you move a little from how it was feeling, trying to find a better position. He lowered himself, now his chest pressed against yours, placing kisses all over your face as he kept pushing more of him inside your warm pussy. It's alright, take your time. He's not going anywhere, he'll wait until you're ready for him to move.

"You're doing good." he whispered in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin. "I'm all the way inside, see? It doesn't hurt." it hurts a little, maybe more than just a little. But wasn't it normal when he was stretching you like that? But just as much as it hurts, it also felt good, in a way that left your mouth watering. He was going to be the end of you, really.

"Move." you ordered him, wanting to feel more. Just being stuffed to the brim wasn't enough, you needed much more than that.

He followed your orders, moving his hips slowly, paying attention to your next move.

You were so cute when you're sticking to him like that, holding onto his shoulders and trembling every time he touched that spot deep inside that he wasn't trying to touch to begin with, to not overwhelm yourself.

He's going to give you everything you want, there's no need to rush. If this was how much you can handle then that's how much he's going to give you. So why were you grabbing him like that, and asking for more? "Deeper." but you couldn't take it? You're going to say that he bullied you later, and he doesn't want to take the blame for something you made him do.

"You're sure?" you nodded, looking at him through your eyelashes with a pout on your face. Alright then, if that's what you want. How could he refuse you?

So he got deeper, hitting that spongy spot with long slow strokes that seems to work wanders on you.

He kissed you, again and again, to mark everything that missed his touch. To make sure you feel him, more than just inside.

"Is it good?" he asked as if he doesn't know your body like the back of his hand.

"Mm." you nodded, leaning in to feel more of his warmth.

"Then say my name. Let me know how good I make you feel." how could you forget he was like this. He always had to mark his territory as if you're not already his. But unfortunately for him, you're not in the mood to fulfill his desires. Screaming his name seemed nice, but at the moment all you wanted was to feel him, have him to yourself and let nobody know about your business.

Maybe his greedy side rubbed on you, or maybe it's the other way around. Or not, because at the end of the day you both knew that your unsolved issues can't be fixed that easy, and it can't be passed into the other when both of you are insane.

That's why you're trying to consume each other in other ways.

Kisses that seemed way too loving for someone who just got reunited after a long time. Touches that linger on the other's body even after moving away. Whispers and words that really makes it seems like you two were just a day apart, talking about moving with him, how you don't need anyone else but him. And at the moment you're too drunk on him to even realize that you're nodding, agreeing to every little degrading thing he's saying.

You want him, don't you? You missed him, you were such a mess without him. Right? Why did you permited him to leave when he's made for you. "I love you." that's the most normal thing he said tonight. "I love you, you heard me?" you heard him, but if you're giving him an answer that satisfies him, you'll never make him pay for the pain he caused you.

"You do?" you didn't sounded loving at all, even if your arms were wrapped around his neck, looking at him in the eyes with something only he saw before, your lust and obsession.

"I love you." he'll say it until you finally give up. Placing a kiss right next to your eye, he caged you in his arms, a hand under your ass and lifting up so he could go even deeper than before. Move in even more, since you said you wanted deeper. He'll show you places you didn't even know existed if you're asking for it.

He can't say that he's a brat tamer, because he's not. He likes everything about you, your sweet side, your mean and angry side. He likes it when you punish him, it shows him that you care. And if you believe that he's not doing enough to deserve your love just yet, then he'll do more.

He liked trying after all. And he'd be damed if he said that he doesn't want to show you just how far he can go. Because trust him, you can't handle it.

He's going to eat you, or even better, sacrifice him as you see fit. He wants to be inside you forever, be part of you. Because he feels like he's finally at home only when he's with you, in your arms. And when he's balls deep inside you? He's in heaven.

"Does it hurts?" he licked your tears away, wanting to taste them and claim them as his.

You nodded, feeling his cock twitching before moving in a way that got you throwing your head back. This fucker. He thinks that he can just do this to you and not pay a price? And perhaps sometimes he forgets how you can be so cruel, mean, and play with his feelings in a way only you could.

All he needs is a look from you, fluttering those eyelashes in a pretty way, and a sad expression that he can't resist.

You win, if you wanted him to fumble, then you win. He's all yours, do whatever you want with him because he doesn't have the ability to think anymore. "Cum with me?" what gives you the right to ask such a dumb question when you knew that's the only thing he wants. If you're not, the he's not doing it either. He knows he's asking for too much, but let the man dream.

"I'll fill you up nice and pretty, alright?" he made it sounded like a question, but you both knew he was just letting you know.

"Mm." you nodded, your lips smashing together the next moment. Eating each other out as you were both so so close. Touches becoming more and more desperate, his grip on so tight you won't be surprised if it leaves a bruise. But it's alright, because you feel like that's not quite enough.

More, you both needed more. And some heated sex after fucks knows how long won't be enough to satisfy the empty holes in you. You needed so much more.

Will you even be able to get out the bed tomorrow? Both of you. Because from the way you drag each other back, refusing to give up just yet was more than enough proof to show you won't step back any time soon.

But who knows, maybe you'll finally be happy by the time you both dry your energy out.

[chleem]

request idea? thinking about how Drew would drop everything for his girl ❤️‍🔥 like if she showed up at his house crying because she needs him (something with her parents or something? maybe they forgot something important to her)

and Drew is with his roommates or friends (who love the reader) but as soon as he sees his girl sad, he has a soft spot for her and for taking care of her 🫶🏼

⋆.˚ Warnings: none, pure fluff (still, read at own caution

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: enjoy! sry i haven't replied for so long, i was spending cny w/my family.

word count: 2.2k

──── 𝜗𝜚 ─────

The sound of the basketball game is practically vibrating through the walls—close to the end, with the score tied and everyone on edge. 

Drew’s lounging on the couch, leaning back, eyes glued to the screen. 

The room is full of his friends, all hyped up, throwing out their commentary and joking around. It’s guys’ night, and it’s a vibe they’re all soaking in.

Then the doorbell rings for the second time tonight, and Drew’s eyes flicker to the door.

"Did we order pizza? Again?" Drew asks. 

“Dunno, man, check,” his friend says, not looking up from the game, clearly too invested. 

Drew sighs, a little annoyed at the interruption, but his feet move automatically toward the door.

When Drew opens the door, he doesn’t see pizza. 

He sees you.

His expression shifts instantly—his confusion giving way to something deeper. 

Drew notices the smudge of mascara under your eyes first—the dark lines trailing down your cheeks. The rest of your makeup isn’t much better: foundation starting to fade where the tears have blurred it, the eyeliner long gone from where it used to frame your eyes.

His heart skips a beat. The noise from the game and his friends’ laughter suddenly feel miles away, as if the room has gone quiet in an instant.

Then, through your teary eyes and blushed cheeks, you give him a smile. It’s weak, almost forced, but you try. You shrug your shoulders, like you're attempting to downplay whatever’s hurting you.

“Hey, Joseph,” you say, your voice cracking just enough that Drew hears it. Your smile fades, and the act you’re trying to put on crumbles just a little.

Drew’s heart sinks. He knows you too well. The moment you said his name like that—broken and vulnerable—he realizes just how much you’re holding back.

Without a word, Drew steps closer.

The easy-going grin he had on earlier is gone. His brows furrowed with concern as he reaches for you, hands cupping your cheeks. 

He holds you gently, but firmly—like he's grounding you, keeping you steady.

His gaze softens, and he watches, helpless for a second, as the first tear escapes and trails down your cheek. His heart aches seeing you like this.

His eyes never leave yours, and there’s an unspoken promise in them—I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

When you speak again, the apology slips out almost before you can stop it. “I’m sorry…” you start, feeling bad for interrupting his night with his friends.

“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” He says, as if he’s trying to erase that sense of guilt before it can settle in. 

He gives you a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head, “don’t ever apologize for needing me.”

He takes a moment, watching your eyes carefully, making sure you understand that he means it. There’s no disappointment in his gaze—only warmth, care, and an overwhelming need to protect you from whatever’s hurting.

Your eyes flicker away, sparkling with unshed tears as you struggle to catch your breath, trying to muffle the cries threatening to break free.

“It’s just- it’s just my parents-“

Your words falter as his friends cheer loudly in the background, their excitement rising with each point scored in the game. 

Drew notices immediately—your discomfort, the way you're struggling to open up in this moment—and it hits him: you’re still standing out in the hallway, exposed to everything.

“Let’s, let’s get inside,” he murmurs. He doesn’t need to say more than that—his hands move to your shoulders, guiding you toward his room, tell you everything.

His friends, too absorbed in the game, don’t notice the subtle shift in the air. They’re still yelling at the screen, completely oblivious to the fact that his girlfriend has showed up crying. 

As he leads you down the hall, you finally feel the air change—calmer, quieter. 

The second the door of Drew’s room closes behind you, the outside world fades.

Unknowingly, you’ve sat down at the edge of his bed, the soft mattress dipping under your weight. 

Drew quietly moves around his room, as he finds a box of tissues on his dresser. He doesn’t take his eyes off you, though—watching the way you sit, the way your shoulders shake with each breath, how your chest rises and falls, unevenly.

Once he hands it to you, Drew settles beside you. His arm slides around your shoulders, pulling you closer but not forcing you.

He listens carefully to the soft hiccups that escape from you, tiny gasps caught in the air. 

He just continues to rub gentle circles on your back, his touch light and comforting. 

Finally, Drew speaks, but it is barely above a whisper, “what’s wrong?”

You grab a tissue, dabbing your cheeks where the mascara has ran down. 

When you see the dark spots on the tissue, your chest tightens. The tears come faster now, and you let out a shaky breath between sobs, “now my makeup’s ruined!” 

Drew can’t help but chuckle lightly at your reaction, the sound soft and gentle. His hand, still resting around your shoulders, takes the tissue from your trembling fingers.

With a small, reassuring smile, he dabs at your cheeks, wiping away the smudged makeup with care. 

“Don’t, don’t worry about that,” he says quietly. 

The tenderness in his words feels like a balm to your frayed nerves, and for a moment, it’s the only thing grounding you.

As you look up at him, your breath catching in your throat, you notice how close he is. 

His face is inches from yours, and his eyes hold nothing but softness, nothing but a promise of comfort. His hand lingers at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I…i had dinner with my parents,” you start. 

“I know,” he murmurs softly, his gaze never leaving yours. He'd seen the date marked on his calendar weeks ago, the reminder of your private dinner with your parents, and he had known it might be a tough night for you.

It was a dinner just for you and them—an attempt to reconnect, to have a moment where things might feel normal again. But Drew knew, from the way you’d talked about it in passing, that it wasn’t going to be easy.

“They still think, I made a huge mistake,” your voice cracks once again, and you swallow hard, as if trying to force the pain down, but it’s no use. It bubbles up too quickly.

Drew knows exactly what you mean. He remembers you telling him about dropping out in the middle of your final year. How it had been a decision made for yourself, even if your parents couldn’t understand it.

Drew watches you quietly for a moment, then speaks softly, “You did what was right for you. If they don’t get it, that’s on them, not you. Who cares what they think?”

He gives you a small, reassuring smile, before adding on, “you should see yourself through my eyes. You’re beautiful, smart, and more than enough as you are. You don't need a...certificate to prove that.”

His words settle over you, and for a moment, you feel your heart soften at the quiet sincerity in his voice. But you quickly look away, feeling a bit shy under his gaze. 

“Yeah, well…” you mutter, “we got into this huge fight, and I just stormed out- and look where I am. Ruining your - your guys’ night.”

“No, no,” Drew immediately interrupts, “you’re not ruining anything.”

Then, unexpectedly, without missing a beat, Drew throws the tissue in his hand toward the trash can in the far corner, and you watch, distracted by the sudden movement. 

You can’t help but let out a small chuckle when he makes a perfect shot, the tissue landing neatly inside with a satisfying swish.

Drew turns toward you, his smile both confused and amused, clearly unsure of what exactly made you laugh but happy to see you smile. “What?” he asks, his voice still holding that easy charm.

You stare at him for a moment, your eyes catching on his lips, the way they curve just slightly in that grin, and for a fleeting second, the urge to kiss him overwhelms you. 

It’s like everything else in the room fades away, and it’s just the two of you in this small, quiet moment.

Your breath catches in your chest, and before you can even think, the space between you seems to vanish.

Without a word, you lean in, your eyes fluttering shut, letting instinct take over. His hand gently cups your cheek, warm against your skin, as he tilts your head just slightly.

And then, you feel it—his lips against yours, and everything feels…right.

The kiss is calming, full of quiet affection—comforting in a way that eases all the tension, like a safe place where nothing else matters.

You could taste your own tears, salty on your lips, but somehow they only make the moment feel more real—more human. There’s something about the way Drew holds you, his lips soft and patient, as if he's absorbing all your hurt without needing to speak.

You pull away just briefly, catching your breath, but before you can even fully regain yourself, Drew leans in again, this time with urgency, as if he needs this kiss more than you.

His lips press against yours, deeper this time, gentle but insistent. His hand moves to your back, pulling you closer as if he’s anchoring himself to you, or to this moment.

You smile against his lips, hands wrapping around his neck. 

You want to push him against his bed, take him right there, show him how appreciative you are of him, but seems like, the rest of the world wants him too.  

The sound of his friends cheering from outside breaks through the moment, reminding you that Drew has guests over, and this isn't just your time with him.

You pull away, resting your forehead against his, closing your eyes for just a moment to catch your breath. 

When you reopen your eyes, you find Drew’s gaze already on you—soft, steady, and full of something unspoken. There’s a quiet intensity in the way he looks at you, like he’s taking in every detail, as if he’s memorizing this moment, just as you are.

“You have- you have people, in the other room,” to your own surprise, you’re stuttering. You pull your head away slightly, finding the fun in tracing the line of his jaw. 

“I wanna stay here,” he murmurs, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place, but you feel it in your chest, a quiet certainty. 

He doesn’t break his stare, and in that moment, it’s like he’s asking you to stay with him too—not just in this room, but in everything he’s feeling, everything you’re both sharing.

“Ask them to leave,” you whisper back, a small smile tugging at your lips, though the words are more playful than serious.

You both know it’s not that simple. 

“Join me,” he says, referring to his guys' night, to his friends in the living room. 

“Well, at least let me... change, and redo my makeup.”

“I don’t know…” he lets his words trail off, his eyes scanning your features with mischief lurking in them, “they might like- like having a panda around.”

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth twitch, unable to hide the small smile. You hear Drew’s throaty laugh escape his lips, a sound that makes your heart skip.

“Alright, just… take your time,” he says, his playful tone softening as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering just a moment longer than expected, like he wants to make sure you feel it.

You watch him, your chest warming at the gesture, as he moves across the room to his dresser. 

He pulls it open, rummaging through his clothes, and then, almost casually, he grabs the hoodie you recognize to be 'yours'. It’s his, but with how often you wear it, it’s practically yours now. 

Then, in one smooth motion, he opens the top drawer and takes out your shorts, underwear, and bra. He places them beside you, not even needing to say anything—just a small, thoughtful gesture that tells you he knows exactly what you need, even before you ask for it.

You look up at him, surprised by the simplicity of it, but somehow it feels even more intimate than words could say. It’s the way he just gets you, without needing to make a big deal of it.

And because it felt right, you whisper, “I love you.”

Drew’s gaze softens, the teasing smile melting away into something more sincere. His eyes hold yours as he says, “I love you more,” his voice quiet but filled with warmth. 

There’s no playfulness now—just honesty, raw and real.

“…now get out of here,” you tease, the corners of your lips lifting into a smirk.

He leans forward, his finger lightly tapping your forehead in a playful push, “so eager to get rid of me?”

“Yes,” you whisper back, and he smiles, shaking his head. 

With one last glance, he turns and walks to the door.

And once the door closes behind him, you’re left with a warm feeling in your chest—safe, loved, and entirely at peace.

-------------------------------

happy cny! angpao for everyone <3

i apologize in advance if this isn't good and has mistakes- i wrote it in a rush! (also, i realized there was a sudden pov switch- tf

other

[airenyah]

A LOOK AT STYLE'S JOURNEY | Ep 9

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7 | Ep8)

Yeah, I don't really have any introductory words to say on this one except... ENJOY <3

Pronoun situation: As usual, just assume Fadel and Style use the rude pronouns guu/mueng with each other unless I specify otherwise.

To recap: On their road trip through the country, Fadel and Style ran into an interesting pair and got involved in their (pre-)marital dispute. Style finally figures out what exactly Fadel is mad about and makes him a promise.

No. 1: A Stylish Death

Once more, Style and Fadel are on the road. Fadel finally took Style's advice from the end of episode 7 to heart and is currently taking a nap on the backseat of the car instead of threatening Style non-stop. Style turns his head to check on him, then shakes his head and looks back to the road, his expression amused. It's my personal headcanon that he finds it just as funny and ridiculous (affectionate) how bad of a kidnapper Fadel is as we the fandom do. What kidnapper just sleeps peacefully while letting their victim drive them around in a car without supervision? Speaking of headcanons, you know how there's been talk about where exactly Style got the sunglasses from all of a sudden? My mom suggested that they could be Bison's and that they just happened to lie around in the car, but it's my headcanon that Style actually nicked them from Jimmy and Popcorn's house. He probably found the glasses somewhere around the house and charmed the two of them into giving them to him before he and Fadel left.

Anyway, the radio cuts out and Style ends up finding a photo of some mysterious guy in the glove compartment in search of CDs. To be honest, I don't think Style is all that jealous in this moment (I think he'd know if there was a love rival he needed to worry about, I think he can read Fadel well enough by now), but I do think he's very confused and intrigued. Because Fadel did tell him four episodes ago that he didn't have any past lovers. And only the night before (I assume) they had a chat in which Style mentions that he doesn't know Fadel's past. And I think Style wants to know. About Fadel's past and now about the guy in the photo specifically, because that guy is likely connected to Fadel's past, too. Which Style wants to know about.

But right in that moment, Fadel wakes up. Style quickly throws the photo back into the compartment, slams it shut and immediately ropes Fadel into a conversation so that Fadel doesn't even have the time to ask what Style was doing in case he saw anything. Fadel starts telling Style about Bison's parents' island and house and Style hopes his best friend is still alive. The only thing Fadel has to say about that is: "I can’t guarantee that. You’ll have to find out for yourself." That's not a very reassuring answer. "Can’t you at least lie to make me feel better?" Style asks. Language fun fact, Style's reply actually goes more like:

Can't you give me some hope, please? มึงให้ความหวังกูหน่อ���ก็ได้ป่ะ [mueng - hâi - kwaam wăng - guu - nòi - gôh dâai - bpà] you - give - hope - me - a little (please) - [particle] - ?

Then Style asks for a quick stop at a clothes store because "I’ve been wearing [your clothes] this whole time, and it’s getting disgusting" and I just love that @panncakes was spot on when they said:

im just saying style is obviously not wearing his own shirt in episode 8 and since fadel had time to prepare for this search mission he obviously brought essentials including spare sets of clothing and baggy black does scream fadel; so im just going to assume fadel has style Who He's Definitely Killing Soon running around in his own clothing because you can't have a dead man running around in day old dirty clothes obviously and not because sharing clothes is becoming their Thing

In a bit we will see that Style actually is wearing a shirt that we've seen Fadel wear before on the show.

They start bickering, because Fadel isn't in the mood to go shopping for clothes, but Style fights for his will by joking about Fadel killing him and going on a very Style-like monologue about wanting to be a good-looking corpse. When he's done monologuing, he turns his head and throws Fadel a side glance to check if it worked.

It did.

No. 2: You Better Run, Better Run, Faster Than His Bullet

It worked. Despite Fadel's reluctance they are now standing in a clothes store on Style's request and that makes 3/3 series that JoongDunk have gone to a clothes store in. I'm starting to wonder if looking at clothes together on camera is in their contracts. Maybe the real sunflowers were the clothes stores we made along the way. (Yes, I am still waiting for a JD sun flower Easter egg. Since sun flowers were such a big thing in both their previous works and their mascot is a sunflower too.) Anyway, so Fadel caved and let Style go shopping for clothes after all, because when does Fadel not give in to Style and Style is hyped. They bicker some more and Style finally calls Fadel out for being a bad kidnapper while at the same time using the opportunity to pointedly call himself Fadel's boyfriend and just as pointedly call Fadel his own boyfriend again as well. Just listen to how much he stresses the word "faen". Actually, let me just share a more literal translation again, because he doesn't just throw around the word "boyfriend" two but three whole times in Thai:

Right now I feel more like a boyfriend. ตอนเนี่ยรู้สึกเหมือน​แฟนมากกว่า [dton nîia - rúu-sèuk - mĕuuan - faen - mâak gwàa] (right) now - feel - like - boyfriend - more Official subs: I feel like a boyfriend. It's/You're like a boyfriend who accompanies his boyfriend while shopping. เหมือนแฟนมาเฝ้าแฟนช้อปปิ้งอ่ะ [mĕuuan - faen - maa - fâo - faen - chóp-bpîng - àh] like - boyfriend - come - watch over, care - boyfriend - shopping - [particle] Official subs: This feels like going shopping with my boyfriend.

(The italicized boyfriends indicate which boyfriends Style pointedly stresses.)

Last episode, Fadel claimed twice that he and Style weren't boyfriends/a couple after Style referred to them as such. Now Style is calling them boyfriends again, but the only thing that Fadel debunks this time around is the claim that Style is his hostage. Fadel doesn't say a single word about them not being boyfriends. He ends his defense by claiming that Style doesn't hold enough value to be exchanged for anything and Style throws him a little nod like Sure Jan whatever you say. 

Fadel continues to say "I'm just letting you find a little joy before I kill you" and that's interesting because:

I'm only letting you be a little happy before you die. กูแค่ให้มึงมีความสุขเล็กๆ น้อย​ๆ​ ก่อนตายเท่านั้นแหละ [guu - kâe - hâi - mueng - mii kwaam-sùk - lék lék nói nói - gòhn - dtaai - tâo nán - làe] I - just - let, give - you - be happy - little, small - before - die - only - [particle]

Let's compare with every other explicit death threat that Fadel has made to Style since he's kidnapped him:

Doesn't matter where [I'm taking you]. You'll be dead anyway. But before I kill you, I have to see my brother.

Once I find him, I'm going to kill you both.

One wrong move, I'm blowing your brain out.

If my car was stolen, not only would I kill you, I'd take a car from your garage.

Just because I let you do this doesn't mean I won't kill you, you know?

Do you see what's different all of a sudden? Yeah, that's right. Fadel threatened Style's life, but he did not say that he would be the one ending it. For once, Fadel did not say that he, Fadel, would be killing Style. The only other time he made a reference about Style being dead rather than him killing Style was the very first time he voiced an explicit death threat and that one was still followed by an "I kill you" in the very next sentence. Now, though? There is no "I (will) kill you" anywhere to be found. It's the same thing a few lines down: "You're going to die soon, what else do you want?" (Btw, I did check the Thai lines in the list above and in Thai he also says that he'll kill Style each time.)

I don't know if Style picks up on that subtle change in phrasing, but he certainly isn't as annoyed by and tired of the death threats anymore as he used to be. Instead, he now deals with them by making light of them, like earlier in the car when he insisted he wanted to be a good-looking corpse and now by asking Fadel to drop his dead body in a beautiful place so that at least his ghost could haunt nice places in nature. And what I love about this is that even though this is clearly meant more like a light-hearted joke, Style still sounds almost kind of genuine in his words. Because Fadel is "serious" about his death threats and so Style will also be serious about his dying wishes. And even though he doesn't believe that Fadel will actually kill him, Style still would rather haunt a beautiful place when he dies (even if it isn't at Fadel's hands). That part is genuine. However, Fadel ain't got no time for this particular wish. And so he threatens Style's life one more time by playing along with Style: "If you don't choose something right now, the only place you're haunting is this damn secondhand store."

Style stares at Fadel for a moment. Message received. It's time for Style to back down from being annoying or else Fadel will really lose his patience. And so Style turns his attention to the clothes rack, but not without showing Fadel how completely and utterly unimpressed he is by Fadel threatening death for the millionth time in the past 3-ish days. Style soon gets distracted from his performance when he notices a nice pair of shorts, which he grabs and then pointedly holds out to Fadel like There. I'm choosing something. Happy now? 

Style seriously starts looking for something to wear after that and he's so focused on the clothes that he misses the way Fadel watches him with the most adoring look in his eyes. Style finds a top he likes and walks off to try it on. When he comes back to ask for Fadel's opinion on his outfit, Fadel points out that Style never really wears stripes:

But I don't really see you wearing striped clothes. แต่กูไม่ค่อยเห็นมึงใส่เสื้อลายทางนะ [dtàe - guu - mâi kôi - hĕn - mueng - sài - sêuua laai taang - ná] but - I - not really - see - you - wear - striped clothes - [particle] Official subs: I never saw you in stripes before.

Just wanted to make a little clarification, because in the subs Fadel actually says "I never saw you in stripes before" when Fadel actually has, in fact, seen Style in stripes. But "not really" and "never" isn't quite the same. In Thai Fadel implies that Style rarely wears stripes, not that he never wears stripes, and I think Style wearing stripes in front of Fadel three times in eight episodes is rare enough to be considered "not really".

Fadel taking note of this fact has Style quite satisfied, because Fadel is clearly paying attention to him. Then Style firmly tells Fadel "You can't kill me. You love me." and this stand-off really reminds me of the one in the storage room in episode 3 when Style tells Fadel "You won't [punch me]. You like me." Except this time Style is even more confident in his words. In fact, he knows he's right, because Fadel has had many perfect opportunities to kill him in the last couple of days, was actually close to killing him a few times and yet Style is still alive and kicking and actively being an annoying little menace in Fadel's life. And he also knows for a fact that Fadel is in love with him. He tested him in the bathtub and got a satisfactory result. Instead of being punched in the gut like last time, Style suddenly finds himself whirled around and on the ground, everything accompanied by the sound of gunshots. 

From one second to the next, Style finds himself worrying about his his life again after he's finally managed to deal with his fear of death triggered by the pool incident. Somehow, Fadel and Style still have the time to bicker while Fadel fires off a few more gunshots and then they run to a different hiding spot. I do love how Style's first instinct the moment Fadel has dropped down on the ground next to him is to reach out to Fadel. And I love how Style doesn't even seem to be thinking about it, he just touches Fadel automatically, his hand seeks out Fadel almost out of reflex.

Fadel realizes he's out of bullets and blames Style who defends himself and then asks how they're gonna fight this guy. And once again we get to see how much of a helper Style is and how much of a need to fix things he has, because he immediately offers himself up as bait to distract the attacker. Fadel hates the idea, but Style insists. He's too helpful for his own good. Style gets in position to run, but turns back to Fadel for a moment when Fadel calls out Style's name a few times. Fadel tilts his head in disapproval like Are you fucking serious right now?! Style nods and blinks at him in a silent answer: Yeah. It'll be fine, don't worry. I got this. Then Style bravely runs off. His need to help overrides his fear of death. 

Turns out Style cannot, in fact, outrun bullets. A bullet grazes him and he goes down. And at this point, let me just leave @secriden's observation here, because it totally hadn't occurred to me and it hurts me, so obviously I need to make it everyone else's problem, too:

[I]it is just deliciously dramatic that Style gets injured precisely dressed in the clothes he'd picked out so he could "at least die in something that's actually my style" and in the place Fadel said Style would haunt only minutes prior.

Fadel finds Style a minute or two later, once he's dealt with the attacker and they're both safe. Style says "It’s just a graze" and "This is nothing" and I'm not sure if he's saying this more to reassure Fadel or to reassure himself. His mouth says one thing, but his face sure says another.

Whatever brave face Style was putting on a moment ago disappears once Fadel starts wrapping his own shirt around Style's injury. Style goes down, clearly in pain. And I'm left wondering... Is that it? Is this why we've been counting Style around guns? Was it foreshadowing to Style getting shot? Only time will tell.

No. 3: Treating the Wounded

Somehow Fadel gets Style onto Bison's island. I wonder how far away they were at the point of Style being shot and how long it took for them to arrive on the island. Style is weak and pale and yet the first and also only thing out of his mouth is "Kant… You're alive. I'm happy to see that". Kant's death is a worry that Style has carried around ever since that morning at the hospital right before Fadel ambushed him and now that I think about it, this worry must have also played a part in Style's fear of and about death last episode. But Kant is alive. His best friend is alive. And that's all that matters through the pain right now.

Kant wants to help but Fadel immediately yells at him to let go of Style the moment Kant grabs Style's arm. I'm sure Style would have been cool with Kant also helping him, but Style currently doesn't have the energy to talk back to Fadel. Fadel continues to lead him towards the house and at one point as they're walking we see Style shut his eyes for a moment in a way that has me wonder if for a second his vision went blurry and/or if he's feeling dizzy from the pain and the shock of the injury:

Once at the house, Bison stitches Style back up while Fadel helps and acts as Style's moral support. I'm not sure how many details of what is happening here will be retained in Style's memory as his brain is certainly too busy with keeping him alive through the pain.

No. 4: Bestie Talk

Style wakes up in a bed and Kant finds him only a minute later with painkillers. Style first voices his relief that he himself didn't die from the shock of the surgery, followed by his relief that Kant isn't a corpse either. Kant's potential death really is something that was weighing him down. But Kant's alive! And he even told Bison about everything! Style can't believe his ears. How in the world is Kant still alive, then? Kant says "He loves me" and Style goes "Ohhhhhhhhh" while I go "The power of love, huh?" and then Style goes "The power of love, alright" and I die of laughter at how predictable Style's words were. Style, believer in the power of love, is very happy that his prediction was right, is very happy for his friend and his happiness. Kant continues "I love him, too. I'll do anything to keep him alive" and Style asks "And how are you going to do that? This mess is getting out of hand. It's not just the cops who are after them, but someone else clearly wants them dead" and it's interesting, because so far in their 1:1 scenes it was always Style being the optimistic one, the hopeful one, the dreamer while Kant kept things realistic and had a more pessimistic outlook on life. This time, though, it's the other way around. This time Style hits Kant with the realism. And it makes sense, because it was also Style who got hit by a real bullet. Style has felt and is actually currently feeling the very real consequences of "I'll do anything to keep him alive". One moment you think you can outrun a bullet, the next you almost die on a make-shift surgery table.

Kant says he doesn't exactly know how he's going to go about it, but that his heart is already in it. Style looks away, clearly thinking about something, then raises his eyebrows and nods.

"My heart is already in this." Style knows. Oh, how well Style knows that feeling. The feeling of wanting to do something, anything in the world for the well-being and safety of your hitman boyfriend. He's been feeling like this for a long time now. If we're being honest, Style has felt like this since all the way back in episode 5 where he told Kant "How would I even get through this? I compromised my whole body, and if we're being honest, I've already compromised half of my heart, too. I'm worried about him now" in that locker room. But back then things were going great for Style. Fadel had finally given him a chance and was happily dating Style while Style was falling in love with him more and more despite knowing his true identity. Back then, things were great. Now, though? Not so much. One moment Fadel threatens him with death, the next moment Fadel saves him from death. Style is happy that everything worked out well for his beloved bestie and his hitman boyfriend, but he himself is quite confused at the mixed signals he's getting from his own hitman: "Meanwhile, my chances are 50-50. He's hot and then cold. He loves me and then he doesn't. I honestly can't keep up with him." And I don't think the 50-50 refers to there being a 50-50 chance on whether Fadel will kill him or not. I think by now everyone and their mother knows that Fadel absolutely cannot bring himself to take Style's life no matter how hard he tries (and how hard he tries to convince himself otherwise) and Style is very much aware of it. He even called Fadel out on it at the store. No, I think the 50-50 is out on whether Fadel will forgive him and whether Fadel is willing to give Style another chance. Style knows Fadel loves him, but is the love he has also enough to let Style in again? Is it enough to put his walls down for Style again? And besides, apart from saving Style's life a few times, ever since Fadel found out the truth Fadel hasn't exactly been treating Style in a way that makes Style feel loved and appreciated while Style has done nothing but show his love and appreciation for Fadel. Fadel hasn't exactly shown that he really cares about Style. Style made it very clear that despite Fadel nearly taking his life at the pool, he still loved Fadel and was even willing to sleep with him anyway and Fadel just handcuffed him to the bed in return and told Style he didn't trust him. Style cried from trauma and the only consolation Fadel gave him was "don't be dramatic" and "I don't wanna listen". Style voiced genuine concerns about being murdered and Fadel came back with approval of Style's murder. Style called them boyfriends and Fadel returns with yet another death threat. Those aren't exactly bright prospects for Style and no matter how much Style stays in good spirits, deep down it's gotta hurt, too. Fadel may love Style enough not to kill him, but does he even care about him at all as well?

But Kant has an outside perspective and sees things that Style doesn't see. And from that perspective it looks like Fadel absolutely does care: "But from what I saw, he had your hands clasped in his so tightly. And the way he looked at you was exactly how I looked at Bison at the hospital." Style looks away again, even more lost in thought this time around as he contemplates Kant's words and thinks about Fadel holding his hand through the surgery as well as his relationship with him. Kant's words should come as good news, but Style still looks rather downhearted.

It may seem a little odd that our usual confident, optimistic, hopeful boy is suddenly discouraged. However, I think it makes sense. Style knows that Fadel loves him, but he hasn't exactly been treating Style in a way that makes Style actually feel that love (not killing Style and saving his life is kind of the bare minimum at this point, let's be real). Not to mention, there are also many things that we, the viewers, see from an outside perspective, but Style himself doesn't see them, like when Fadel nearly reached out to Style when Style was crying, or the look of adoration Fadel was watching Style with at the clothes store, or the concern Fadel showed while Bison was stitching Style up. But for the last incident, there was someone there to witness the outside perspective and finally Style learns how Fadel looks when Style's not looking. And that makes Style think. Fadel does seem to care. And Kant's words also serve to reconfirm that Style is right about Fadel loving him, but is that love enough to make Fadel want to be with Style again? After all, Style still has to work for Fadel's forgiveness. And I think that's why Style ultimately isn't all that convinced by Kant's words, because what good does the knowledge that Fadel loves him do, when there's a chance Fadel still won't take him back? What good does the knowledge that Fadel does care do, when it only happens in moments where Style is missing out on it? When it only happens in moments where that care doesn't properly reach Style?

Kant can tell that his friend is still unhappy, so he changes the topic to something more cheerful: "Thanks, though, for risking your life looking for me." This has Style genuinely laughing again as he says "I don’t need your gratitude." Another interpretation of this line is actually:

No need to get so touching, dude. ไม่ต้องมาซึ้งเลยมึง [mâi dtông - maa - séung - loiie - mueng] no need - come - touching, deep - [particle] - you

I think this is a little more coherent with Kant teasing Style about saying "I love you" afterwards, but that might also just be me. Anyway, Style and Kant bicker a bit and Kant accidentally causes pain to Style's injured arm. When they stop bickering, Style, who is in a bit of a better mood again after feeling a down about Fadel only moments before, now really wants to know alllll the tea he's missed while he was busy surviving the pain of the surgery: "When [Fadel] had my hand in his, how did he look at me?"

Kant goes into a dramatic reenactment for Style until they both break away laughing about how weird the thought of the two of them (Kant and Style) to kiss is. Once they've calmed down, Kant repeats that Fadel is worried about Style. Style smiles to himself, getting lost in thought again. It's still not an entirely happy smile, because Style still has a way to go to earn Fadel's forgiveness and Fadel still needs to make it clear in return that he does care about Style and appreciates him in a way where Style can actually see or feel it, but Style is definitely more hopeful again compared to earlier in the conversation. Maybe there is a chance Fadel is willing to give Style another chance after all. Maybe there really is still hope that Style will get his boyfriend back and that said boyfriend will also start treating him accordingly again. Maybe things aren't so bleak after all.

No. 5: Over My Dead Body

However, things take a dark turn when Style walks in on the love of his life holding his best friend at gunpoint. Style missed the beginning of the confrontation, so technically he doesn't really have context, but he also doesn't really need it, because he knows exactly what grudge Fadel is holding. No need to ask. Besides, the day they were playing with the BB guns Fadel already told Style "Kant has to deal with me. He started all this, after all." And now Fadel is making good on that promise.

But Style has been so worried about Kant's safety for so many episodes already and especially ever since Kant got kidnapped and now that Style's finally got his best friend back, alive, and he is not going to watch his (not-)boyfriend kill him in front of his very own eyes and so he shouts at Fadel not to hurt Kant. However, Kant is ready to accept his fate. But before he dies, Fadel needs to know that Style is innocent: "But Style has nothing to do with this. I lied to get him roped into this." Remember the word หลอก [lòhk] from last episode? Yeah, it makes an appearance again. Just so you know:

I deceived my friend one more time. ผมหลอกเพื่อนผมมาอีกทีนึงอ่ะ [pŏm - lòhk - pêuuan pŏm - maa - ìik tii nueng - àh] I - trick, deceive - my friend - [past tense marker] - one more time again - [particle]

(If you didn't read my ep8 meta: this word means "to trick" or "to deceive" and it came up A LOT during ep8. Lots of tricking and deceiving happening on this show. Who would have thought.)

But Style is not cool with Kant's sacrifice. "Don't you dare take all the credits," Style scolds him. And here, have the Thai version too, because it made me laugh:

Don't be cool all by yourself. มึงอย่าเท่คนเดียวดิวะ [mueng - yàa - têh - kon diieow - dì - wá] you - don't - (be) cool - alone, by yourself - [particle] - [particle]

Style won't let Kant to this alone. If Kant has to die, so does Style. And he makes that very clear to Fadel: "If you're going to kill him, kill me, too." Style's voice sounds angry when he says this and this is interesting, because Style hasn't really been properly angry with Fadel ever since he found himself tied up at the pool. Sure, Style got annoyed and he was even really done with Fadel at some points, but Style was never angry with Fadel, he never held any of what Fadel said or did to him against Fadel. No, instead of getting angry, Style just went with it and often met Fadel with kindness and love instead. But now that his best friend's life is on the line, Style is finally truly angry at Fadel. Fadel can shoot Kant over Style's dead body. And with the many times Fadel has saved Style in the last couple of days, Style knows for a fact that his dead body is not something Fadel can bear to see. Even when Fadel himself is the one who wants Style dead.

Style continues: "Nobody forced me into this. I agreed to it willingly." Style could have gotten out of this mess at any point after he was informed of Fadel's real occupation and of what Kant's real mission was, but Style didn't. Style stayed. And he even stuck to Fadel's side all throughout episode 8 without running away which is something that he did willingly. Not because he was afraid of Fadel's gun. Fadel never really treated Style as an actual hostage apart from that one time he handcuffed Style to the bed and the few times he waved his gun in Style's face. Style had plenty of opportunities to make a run for it, especially when Fadel was napping in the car. But Style chose to stay. Nobody forced him to do anything, not Fadel during their road trip and also not Kant at any time before that. Style went along with everything by his own choice and of his own will. No one's made any decisions for Style. Style also has agency in this game.

Style underlines this point by dropping down on his knees and offering his life by his very own choice. "Don't you have a little sympathy? We've been through all these things together. Why did you bother stitching me up if you're going to end up killing me anyway? Why didn't you just let me die?" Style is still angry, but now his voice sounds more reproachful as well as desperate. Style's hurt is really starting to shine through. He has stuck to Fadel's side with unwavering loyalty these past few days, has shown over and over again that he's serious about Fadel and his feelings for Fadel, he's been nice to Fadel, has helped him, has followed his wishes, has even nearly given his life to protect Fadel in the store. And not a single time has Fadel shown any sign of appreciation or as much as acknowledgment. That hurts. Even more so, when Fadel then goes to murder Style's best friend as a thank you in return for all that Style has done for him. I think when Style asks "Don't you have a little sympathy?" the unspoken question is You don't care about me, despite all that I've willingly done for you? Style's next words are even more loaded: "Why did you bother stitching me up if you're going to end up killing me anyway? Why didn't you just let me die?" This is You do care about me, because if you really did hate me all that much you could have easily let me die back there and finally be rid of me, but you didn't. You couldn't bear to see me die. This is If you care about me and my life this much, then why do you keep treating me so coldly? This is You saved my life and now you're just gonna destroy it immediately after? Are you really this cruel?

As Style is kneeling there, I don't think he is scared for his own life, I don't think he expects Fadel to actually shoot him dead on the spot. I think Style feels fairly safe in this moment, but he is terrified for Kant's life. He knows that Fadel can't bring himself to kill Style, because he loves him too much, but Fadel doesn't feel the same way about Kant. In fact, Fadel feels quite the opposite about Kant. If Fadel kills Kant now, even if he spares Style, Style's life would still be ruined. No matter how much Style insists that he'll like Fadel no matter what, I think if Fadel kills his best friend (or any of Style's loved ones really, like his dad), I think that's the one exception to the rule. I do think they would not be able to come back from that.

This moment here is also the first time Style actually begs Fadel for mercy. Yes, back at the pool he also worked on Fadel not firing that life-ending shot, but back then Style was mostly angry and annoyed and only a little scared. Yes, he did ask Fadel not to kill him, but back then Style was begging for his life, not for mercy. Back then Style didn't ask Fadel to show compassion. But now Style is on his knees, desperately begging Fadel to be merciful, to show compassion, to really think things through. Fadel stares at him.

Fadel may not appreciate the loyalty Style has shown him over the last few days, but Kant very much does appreciate Style's loyalty and voices it, too: "I'm happy to have called you a friend." Style replies "Thank you for making my life such an adventure. It's been so goddamn fun, you know that?" and now tears start falling from his eyes as he's speaking. And what I love about this is despite how Style is crying and despite how upset he is in this moment and despite how terrified he is about their (Kant's) death, for Style his potential goodbye to Kant isn't a tragedy. No, it's a celebration. Style is upset and he is sad and he is desperate and afraid, but he smiles a genuine smile through his tears as he speaks his potential last words that Kant may get to hear from him. It's a celebration of their friendship. Style takes this tragic moment and turns it into a happy one. Because if death is inevitable, he at least wants to spend their (Kant's) dying moment in happiness and with good memories in mind. Kant acknowledges that celebration with a smile and a nod, which Style returns.

But Fadel stays stubborn. "How can we be sure you're not just fooling us again?" Style's smile and brief moment of happiness has disappeared when he replies to Fadel. "You think I'd risk my life for all this if I didn't really have feelings for you?" Style is still firm, but now all the anger from moments before is completely gone. Only hurt and despair is left. Style is asking Fadel All this time you never thought or cared to see my perspective, did you? He's telling Fadel I'm here before you, literally begging you on my knees and you are STILL not willing to believe a single word out of my mouth nor any of my actions. Style may always act like Fadel's continuous stabs at him just bounce right off, but at the end of the day it does hurt him that Fadel keeps pushing him away, keeps refusing to appreciate or at the very least acknowledge Style's genuine sincerity. Style's words are reproachful, like he's asking What else do I still need to do in order to prove to you that I'm being serious, no tricks? How much longer will you disregard my very real feelings? Are you really that stubborn? Is this really the hill you're going to die on?

Now Kant jumps in with a beg of his own to support Style: "People make mistakes. Won't you give me a chance? I really love your brother, and my friend really loves you. The two of us will do anything to make sure the two of you get the life you want." Fadel looks at Style after Kant says "The two of us will do anything to make sure the two of you get the life you want." Style has his eyes fixed on Fadel and despite Style still being tense and his breathing being shaky, the expression on Style's face is firm and determined. Style really meant every single thing he just said or did. And he is especially determined in his decision to die alongside Kant. Style is sending a couple of messages to Fadel here. He's saying Since you're always disregarding my own feelings on this matter anyway it really seems like you don't give a shit about me after all, so killing me in addition to Kant really shouldn't be a problem for you at all, so go on, do it. He's telling him If you kill him, you kill me too. If not physically, then at the very least emotionally. He's asking Won't you finally believe that I'm undoubtedly serious and honest about everything and especially about you?

Style is also observing Fadel, watching Fadel intently to see what he's doing, to see what his next move is going to be. Fadel, who was staring at Style, looks back to Kant, then throws Style another look.

And that's when he makes the decision to not to shoot. To put the gun away, instead. And that decision was without a doubt made for Style, not for Bison. I think Style's words (and especially also the unspoken ones) got to him and more importantly, he got to see Style's loyalty in full action. And that was crucial for Fadel to see, because if Style is this loyal to Kant, then if Style's love for Fadel is true, Fadel can expect the same loyalty from him down the line. In fact, Style actually has shown Fadel the same loyalty all along already, or else he wouldn't have followed Fadel to Bison's island, nor would he have thrown himself in the line of fire at the store to protect Fadel. Although I'm not sure Fadel is really ready to truly look at and acknowledge that in this moment.

Fadel puts the gun down and walks a few steps away. Both Bison and Style rush to Kant to check on him. Once Style has made sure Kant is alright, he looks to Fadel. Fadel is looking at him too.

Then Fadel looks at the rest and asks "Any of you allergic to seafood?" And yes, that comment is funny, but it's funny in a way that in German we call Situationskomik (= situational comedy, comedy of the situation). I really don't think Fadel is making a joke here (like. that is NOT the face of a man who is cracking a joke). No, I think this is a peace offering, actually. It's an unspoken peace offering, because cooking for someone else is a gesture of care. And instead of killing Kant, Fadel offers to cook for everyone which includes Kant.

No. 6: Encouragement

Style on the phone with his dad and I'm relieved, because I'd been worrying about his dad with Style suddenly disappearing just like that without a word. And I'm sooo so glad the series spent a moment on showing us the relationship between Style and his dad again. Like, of course Style is gonna call his dad so that his dad doesn't have to worry. Bison is concerned that Style's dad will be mad if Style shows up back home all banged up like that, but Style is confident he can come up with some superhero story and promises not to spill the beans on Fadel and Bison. Style and Bison have some friendly banter until Bison tells Style that Fadel wants to talk to him and said for Style to meet him at the beach. Style is suddenly worried that Fadel changed his mind and wants to shoot him after all, since Style had already offered as much when he was on his knees earlier that day.

I think we have well-established by now that there is no way Fadel is capable of killing Style, and as I mentioned, I think Style is confident in that, too. So I don't think Style thinks Fadel is actually planning to kill him for real, I think he's mostly just being overdramatic and exaggerating again. Bison then plays along and says "No way. The worst he'd do would be trying to drown you" and when Style blinks at Bison and stares at him in shock I think it's because Style doesn't immediately recognize that this is a joke. After all, he hasn't really spent all that much time with Bison, so he doesn't really know Bison and his humor all that well. So Style stares at Bison with big eyes, then tilts his head and squeezes his eyes a bit, trying to figure out whether Bison is being serious right now and if this is something Fadel would actually do (after all, Bison knows Fadel's killer side a hell of a lot better than Style does) or whether Bison is just joking. Bison notices Style's struggle and clears up that he's just kidding and that Fadel wouldn't do that. But it's already too late. Bison's got Style genuinely concerned now. Fadel has proven over and over again that he won't be shooting Style, but who said anything about drowning Style? It's a possibility that Style had not yet considered.

Bison laughs and asks if Style really does like Fadel. All the fear and worry from a second ago disappears instantly as Style firmly tells him "Whatever Kant feels about you, that's how I feel about your brother. If you understand him, you should be able to understand me." Style fell in love with Fadel in episode 5 and absolutely nothing that has happened since, and especially absolutely nothing that has happened since Fadel drugged him at the hospital has changed any about that. Style chose Fadel at the end of episode 5 and he is still very set on that decision.

Bison advises Style that Style needs to prove his feelings to Fadel and tells Style "He acts all tough and rough on the outside, but on the inside, he’s just a softie". Style laughs. He did get to see that for himself during that short time period where he and Fadel were actually happy in their relationship. Bison continues: "He never hesitates when he kills. So if you're still alive, that means he's got a soft spot for you." Again, I think this is something that Style has absolutely clocked already and even called out (both explicitly at the beginning of the episode when he said "You can't kill me. You love me" as well as implicitly whenever he was teasing Fadel, for example in his hitman-teerak monologue or when he quoted Popcorn's words and went "I deserve to die" and cockily leaned his head back to mimic giving his life over to Fadel), but I also think that it still hits kinda different to hear it from someone who first of all has an outside perspective on things and second of all who knows Fadel's killer side better than anyone, from someone who's seen over and over again what Fadel is like when he's murderous, from someone who can absolutely judge the difference. Which Style can't, because he's never seen Fadel actually kill anyone, even if he got close to witnessing it a few times.

Style had started to get discouraged, because Fadel just wouldn't budge and just wouldn't let Style back in and Style just kept hitting one wall after another. And we can't forget that Style spent a lot of time repeatedly hitting walls for the first four episodes already and even when Fadel let him in, Fadel never let him in 100% (only 80%) and so even then Style still came across walls. And I think on top of being discouraged, Style was also starting to get tired a bit. It must be quite exhausting to be this persistent, let's be real. There is only so much energy you can spend on running after someone who keeps pushing you away again and again and keeps being harsh to you. Fadel hasn't even talked to Style or checked on him since Style woke up after the surgery. As far as we're aware of, the only time they've talked since then was when Style was begging for mercy on his knees. So yeah. That sure is encouraging.

But first with Kant's optimism and now with Bison's support as well, Style is starting to feel like maybe not all is lost after all. Hesitantly, he asks Bison:

You think I still have hope? มึงว่ากูยังมีหวังอยู่ป่ะวะ [mueng - wâa - guu - yang - mii - wăng - yùu - bpà - wá] you - think - I - still - have - hope - [auxiliary verb] - ? - [particle] Official subs: You think… I have a chance?

Style is starting to get his hopes up a little bit again. Maybe Fadel will take him back and be nice to him again. Bison is absolutely convinced: "Go for it. After all you've risked your life for, what else do you even have to be scared of now?" Style looks towards the ground, uncertain. Yeah, what else could he be scared of?

Nothing, except Fadel potentially drowning him in the ocean instead of rejecting him like a normal person. Or, you know, just the rejection in general, even if it doesn't come with murder. Honestly, at this point I think Style is also lowkey nervous, because now he really does have (strong) feelings for Fadel and Fadel being willing to be his boyfriend (again. or still) matters more than anything this time around. What will Style do if Fadel rejects him again?

Bison taps his shoulder encouragingly and walks off. Style stays back, thinking everything over.

How is he going to proceed from here? Is he going to try yet again and risk running into another wall as always? Or is he just gonna let it go and finally leave Fadel alone?

No. 7: A Vow Fulfilled

Style does go to the beach. When he arrives, Fadel is already there which makes sense, since Bison did tell Style that Fadel wanted to talk to him at the beach. Except Fadel immediately snaps at Style about what Style is doing here and asks about Bison. Style informs him that Bison was actually the one who said Fadel wanted to talk to Style right here. I think based on Fadel's facial journey and the fact that he moves to walk right off, Style can tell that Bison lied, probably to get Fadel and Style to talk to each other. And now, with new found hope, Style does very much have something to talk to Fadel about. So he catches Fadel's arm and pulls him back, asking him to at least stay for a chat. Fadel isn't really convinced and Style hits him with a cheeky "I can't sleep unless I talk to you". He then hands Fadel a list of all the relatives he has in his life, because "I want you to be sure that I'm not lying to you again." And I'm just gonna drop the Thai line again, because – ding ding ding, you guessed it! Our favorite word หลอก [lòhk] from last episode makes an appearance again:

I want you to be confident that I won't deceive you again. กูอยากให้มึงมั่นใจว่ากูจะไม่หลอกมึงอีก [guu - yàak - hâi - mueng - mân-jai - wâa - guu - jà - mâi - lòhk - mueng - ìik] I - want - that - you - (be) certain, confident - that - I - will - not - trick, deceive - you - again

If you haven't read my ep8 meta, I would encourage you to go read at least sections 6, 9 and 10, so that you have context for its significance. Last episode Style figured out that having been tricked (especially into love) was the one big thing that Fadel was really mad about. Last episode Fadel asked Style "You think that you deceiving (tricking) me is no big deal?" when they were sitting on the couch, then later when they were dancing, Style acknowledged that it is in fact a big deal and tells Fadel "But I'm ready to do anything to make you forgive me." Later in the bathtub Style acknowledges again that he did a bad thing by tricking (deceiving) and betraying Fadel (again I refer you to section 10 of my ep8 meta). And now, as Style is actively doing something in the hopes that it will finally make Fadel forgive him, he once again repeats to him the exact thing that Fadel is mad about, promising he won't be tricking/deceiving Fadel ever again. And yeah, the official translation isn't exactly wrong, because lying is in fact a thing that comes with deceiving or tricking people and this word can be translated as "lying", but I just want some consistency in the word choice. Because I'm sure the consistency of the word choice หลอก [lòhk] in the original Thai was very much on purpose. Otherwise they could have just had the characters say โกหก [goh-hòk] (= to lie) or some other word at some point too. But no, they kept (and keep) saying หลอก [lòhk] while the subs are all over the place (from "made someone do something" to "lying" to "fooling someone" etc. etc. -> these are just the ones from the top of my head). The translation student in me wants to scream. I might turn this into my master's thesis.

Anyway, now that this rant is out of the way, let's continue: So Style explicitly tells Fadel he won't be หลอก [lòhk]-ing him anymore and if he does end up doing it again, then Fadel is free to kill him together with his entire family. Fadel is outraged: "You're selling your whole family out for this? And you said you're a family man." And here's the literal translation, for those who are interested (it doesn't really change much):

You're selling your relatives to me? นี่��ึงขายญาติให้กูเลยนะ [nîi - mueng - kăai - yâat - hâi - guu - loiie - ná] [interjection] - you - sell - relatives - to - me - [particle] - [particle] But you said you love your family, didn't you? ไหนมึงบอกว่ามึงรักครอบครัวไม่ใช่หรอ [năi - mueng - bòhk wâa - mueng - rák - krôp-kruua - mâi châi - rŏh] but - you - said that - you - love - family - no - ?

Style doesn't see a problem: "Because I know for a fact that I won't ever lie to you again." And yes, he does repeat the word หลอก [lòhk], thanks for asking. In fact, his wording is actually almost the same as earlier:

Well, I'm confident that I definitely won't deceive you again. ก็กูมั่นใจไงว่ากูจะไม่หลอกมึงอีกแน่นอน [gôh - guu - mân-jai - ngai - wâa - guu - jà - mâi - lòhk - mueng - ìik - nâe-non] well - I - (be) certain, confident - [particle] - that - I - will - not - trick, deceive - you - again - definitely, for sure

But Fadel, on top of being hurt that he was หลอก [lòhk]-ed by Style, he is now also offended that he is worth only a car to Style and sasses Style about it: "From what you did to me, I just hope that car's a real beauty." And it's actually kinda funny, because Style agreed to make Fadel his boyfriend, but it's been how many episodes since they've started dating?? And we have yet to see Style with said car. In fact, the only time that he went to Kant to claim the car was when he happily bragged about Fadel being his boyfriend the moment he started dating him many episodes ago, but then Kant told him about Fadel's real occupation and Style was like fuck that, keep your car, I'm out. And even when he agreed to stay with Fadel anyway, Style still didn't leave with the car. In fact, as of episode 6 it was Kant who was still in possession of the car, despite Style and Fadel being head over heels in love by that point (I've reached image limit, but we see Kant and Bison arrive at the bowling alley in that car at the end of episode 6 part 1). Style may have gone into it for the car, but he never actually took the car and by now the car is long forgotten. I didn't go and check, but as far as I remember Style hasn't even brought the car up to Kant ever since that scene in episode 4 where he initially came to claim it. At this point, Style would much rather have Fadel than the car anyway.

Fadel doesn't know any of that, of course. He doesn't know that Style isn't even in possession of the car (for now). And so Fadel drops a bitchy comment about it. Style's eyes widen and he immediately knows that Kant must have told Fadel. Fadel confirms and yells at him: "How are you gonna defend yourself now?" Shit. Style hadn't prepared for that conversation before he made his way down to the beach. Style hesitates a bit as he searches for words and the best way to defend himself without pissing Fadel off even more and making him run away again. Style's voice sounds a little stressed when he tells Fadel that it was only in the beginning that he wasn't being sincere. Fadel stares at him wordlessly. When Style continues to say "But after spending time with you" the stress from just now is gone and when he says "I've changed" his voice is very sincere and there's also an urgency that comes with it. Style really means what he says and it's important to him that Fadel believes him, too. But Fadel just looks away. So Style continues: "I never let anyone get the better of me. But for you, I'd do it again and again. I think we get along well." Now let me just share the Thai wording again:

Usually, I never lose to anyone. ปกติกูไม่เคยแพ้ใครนะ [bpòk-gà-dtì - guu - mâi koiie - páe - krai - ná] usually - I - never - lose (to) - anyone - [particle] But I have a soft spot for you. แต่กูแพ้ทางมึงว่ะ [dtàe - guu - páe taang - mueng - wâ] but - I - have a soft/weak spot for - you - [particle] I think we can have a life together. กูว่าเราสองคนอยู่ด้วยกันได้ [guu - wâa - rao sŏng kon - yùu - dûuay gan - dâai] I - think - the two of us - be, live - together - can, be able to

(Side note: there's a word play in the first and second line: to lose = แพ้ [páe] vs. to have a soft/weak spot = แพ้ทาง [páe taang])

Style uses the word แพ้ [páe] here, which means "to lose" or "to be defeated". And where have we heard Style use that word before? In episode 4, when Fadel drags him out of the Rise Up meeting and into the hallway. Once in the hallway, Style says: "I don't take defeats." And then we actually heard something similar again in episode 5 when Fadel tells Style "A guy like me doesn't know how to accept defeat" during their go-kart date. And now here Style is, standing in front of Fadel, telling him Fine. You win. I lose. And gladly so, if it means I get to have you in my life. Because he thinks they can be together. Style wants that and he's serious about it. Fadel looks away and sighs. So Style continues talking. And I'm just gonna share the literal translation again, not because it really makes any difference in meaning, but because I think some of you might be curious:

The thing I can do now is to convince you that I will be by your side. สิ่งที่กูทำได้ตอนนี้อ่ะ ก็คือพูดให้มึงเชื่อมั่นว่ากูจะอยู่ข้างมึง [sìng - tîi - guu - tam dâai - dton-níi - àh • gôh keu - pûut hâi mueng chêuua-mân - wâa - guu - jà - yùu - kâang mueng] thing - that - I - can do - now - [particle] • is - convince you - that - I - will - be - your side Official subs: The only thing I can do right now is promise you that I'll be by your side. But if you give me a chance แต่ถ้ามึงให้โอกาสกูอ่ะ [dtàe - tâa - mueng - hâi - oh-gàat - guu - àh] but - if - you - give - chance - me - [particle] Official subs: But if you give me a chance I will show you that I'm serious. กูจะทำให้มึงเห็นว่ากูเอาจริง [guu - jà - tam hâi - mueng - hĕn - wâa - guu - ao jing] I - will - make that - you - see - that - I - serious Official subs: I can show you I mean every word.

Fadel, who looked back at Style when he talked about being at Fadel's side, now looks away again and sighs for a second time. He remains stubborn. But Style won't be discouraged. He's made the decision to try getting through to Fadel once more and so he's on a mission now. "You don't believe me? Fine." Stupidly stubborn guys require stupidly silly methods. And at this point I really wanna share @ginnymoonbeam's words on this post:

You know when you've been fighting about something for a long time and eventually you get to a point where you know the other person has won, but you're too stubborn to just give up your position? That's Fadel. Everyone knows he isn't going to kill Style, that he loves Style, that he dragged him on this road trip because he wants to be with Style. He knows it too, but he's climbed on this hill-to-die-on and can't see his way down. Style's dramatic little stunt gives him a way to climb down. He has to get in the water because Style is the one being stubborn and unreasonable. It's gotta be a scene with a sense of urgency to break through that last resistance, but it also has to be something deeply stupid, because a genuine dangerous crisis takes his focus elsewhere. Fortunately manufacturing a deeply stupid emergency situation is right in Style's lane.

If Fadel wants to remain on that hill, then Style will just have to walk straight into the ocean. And he'll just keep walking until Fadel climbs down from that hill and gives him a chance after all. Even if Fadel's mirror last episode said that bad people don't deserve chances. And Style clearly is bad people for tricking Fadel into loving him and being crazy about him and then betraying him. And according to Fadel's mirror people who trick others into loving them all deserve to die. So instead of having Fadel drown him, Style will just willingly go drown himself in the ocean. He deserves to die for tricking Fadel after all. And so Style walks on. But suddenly Fadel starts getting stressed. He shouts after Style that his wound is going to get infected and but Style is determined to show just how serious he is: "And I will die of that, too!" Style is bad people and Style deserves to die for his sins and so Style will drown himself in the ocean and let the infected wound kill him on top of that. For love. Style walks and walks and makes a big show out of it and his injury gets closer and closer to the water and Fadel gets more and more stressed until he breaks after all: "Fine! I'll give you a chance." Style smiles for a moment, before he raises his eyebrows like Oh, is that so? and questions Fadel: "Really?"

Style knows he's won now, but the thing is that Fadel was reeeally stubborn for a reeeally long time and Style reeeally had to work for Fadel to utter the words "I'll give you a chance". And so Style decides drag it out a little longer. I think he partly does it to to playfully mess with Fadel a bit, partly simply just to be a little shit and give Fadel a bit of a taste of his own medicine, and also partly because just as much as Fadel needed to see proof of Style's sincerity, Style also wants to see some proof that Fadel really means it when he says he'll give Style a chance. After all, Style's heart is on the line here, too. And there's only so much rejection a man in love can take. Style doesn't want that chance if Fadel is just gonna turn around and go back to making death threats again as soon as Style is back out of the water. And so instead of walking back to land, Style calls out "Nah, I’m gone. There’s no way you mean it." And let me just–

You're tricking me for sure. มึงหลอกกูแน่ [mueng - lòhk - guu - nâe] you - trick, deceive - me - for sure Official subs: There's no way you mean it.

Yup. Our favorite word is back. Fadel has repeatedly thrown it into Style's face that Style tricked him and now Style is turning Fadel's words back around on him. And it's not in a malicious way, no, Style is affectionately teasing Fadel with it and also being a bit of a little shit and also, as I just said, I do think Style is also lowkey worried that Fadel is in fact just tricking him. And I do think Style wants to confirm that this is not the case. By the way, I'm not sure Style's tease even registered in Fadel's brain, because he's so stressed and he's already moving to walk into the water the moment the words "I'm gone" are out of Style's mouth. As Fadel walks up to him in the water, Style watches him with a happy, expectant expression on his face. That expression turns serious as Fadel approaches him.

Style's behavior just now as he was walking into the ocean was very playful, very silly in order to get Fadel to loosen up and to lose his grumpiness a bit and to get Fadel to climb down from his hill of stubbornness. But what he has to say Fadel is actually very serious: "I promise you that, from now on, you'll only see the 100% real me." I think this is a big relief for Style, because we saw how much he was longing to be able to talk freely about everything with Fadel as far back as episodes 5 and 6. Fadel says "Besides work, I've been real to you from day one" and Style just looks at him without replying, because Fadel is kind of right. Although, it's not like Style could just say it, because apart from the deal with the car, the whole being a police snitch was Kant's thing, not Style's and so it was Kant's secret to spill. And it's not like Style could have just told Fadel Kant's secret, because Kant would have been a dead man right there and then. Style got as close as he could to spilling the secret without actually spilling it and I think especially that night at the rock concert Style would have like nothing more than to come clean and to stop Fadel from going on that mission, but it would have been at the cost of Kant's life and only two scenes ago we saw that Style will not have that.

As much as Style was Style for walking into the ocean just like that, Fadel is also Fadel and of course can't let this go without making another threat: "If you don't stay true to me after this, you'll find out how I deal with liars."

If you aren't real with me after this, you better watch out. หลังจากเนี้ยถ้ามึงไม่เรียลกับกู มึงเจอดีแน่ [lăng jàak - níia - tâa - mueng - mâi - riial - gàp - guu • mueng - jer - dii - nâe] after - this - if - you - not - real - with - me • you - meet - good - for sure

Bye the way, I'm not sure how obvious it is to non-Thai speakers, but whenever they talk about "being real" they actually use the English word "real". And I just wanted to put the Thai wording here, because Fadel also uses the anglicism "real" here when the subs talk about "staying true". Also, his threat is way less elaborate. Literally, the threat translates to something like "to meet good" (like, you'll meet something good as in something bad will happen to you).

Style doesn't talk back. He stays quiet. And I think it's because at this point there isn't really a lot he can say. It's true that he hadn't been real with Fadel and so he quietly accepts his fate. Style then also huffs a little and looks at Fadel fondly. Because even if Fadel just threatened him again, it still implied that they really will have a "from now on" together. And that makes Style happy. That's exactly what he just walked into the ocean for. After a moment, Fadel prompts Style to get out of the water before his wound gets infected. And now Style starts talking back again and teases Fadel: "Even when you're threatening me, you're worried about me."

And here I wanna share the literal wording again, because it reminds me of some other scenes. And let me just explain this one word before I do... So where the subs say "threatening", Style uses the word โหด [hòht] which is a word I actually discussed with my Thai friend after episode 7 and he explained that it can be translated in a few different ways depending on context, but usually it means "cruel" or "aggressive" or "brutal". I'm gonna go with "harsh" as a translation to have some consistency, because I feel like this word could work for all the lines that I'm about to drop.

In episode 4, when Style showed up in the kitchen he told Fadel:

No matter how harsh you are, I'm still hooked on you. มึงโหดแค่ไหนอ่ะ กูก็ยังติดใจมึงอยู่ดี [mueng - hòht - kâe năi - àh • guu - gôh - yang - dtìt-jai - mueng - yùu dee] you - harsh - how much - [particle] • I - [sentence link] - still - hooked - you - anyway Official subs: It doesn't matter how scary you are, I'm still hooked.

Then, in episode 7 when Fadel surprise attacked Style with a shower of kisses at the garage, Fadel had following complaint to Style:

When I'm sweet, you don't like it. ตอนกูหวานมึงก็ไม่ชอบ [dton - guu - wăan - mueng - gôr - mâi - chôp] when - I - sweet - you - [sentence link] - not - like Official subs: You don't like me being nice. When I'm harsh, you still scold me. ตอนกูโหดมึงก็ด่ากู [dton - guu - hòht - mueng - gôr - dàa - guu] when - I - harsh - you - [sentence link] - scold - me Official subs: You complain when I'm cold.

Now in episode 9, Style's words are very reminiscent of that complaint:

Even when you're this harsh, you're still sweet with me. นี่ขนาดโหดนะเนี่ย ยังหวานกับกูเลย [nîi - kà-nàat hòht - ná - nîia • yang - wăan - gàp - guu - loiie] [interjection] - this harsh - [particle] - [particle] • still - sweet - with - me - [particle] Official subs: Even when you're threatening me, you're worried about me.

When Style comments "How adorable", he's still teasing Fadel, but you can also clearly see just how delighted and happy he is that Fadel really seems to mean it when he says he'll give Style a chance after all. He looks at Fadel with the brightest smile. But Fadel has spent a lot of time being angry and hurt and grumpy and stubborn and so he isn't gonna be cheesy from one second to the next. And so he speaks out another (very empty, almost joking) threat as he warns Style he can be worse. "You want that?" Style says no. But if Fadel is already letting him put in requests, then Style wants Fadel to use only his sweet side.

From now on I want you to use only your sweet side. ต่อไปนี้กูอยากให้มึงใช้แต่ด้านหวาน [dtòh bpai níi - guu - yàak - hâi - mueng - chái - dtàe - dâan wăan] from now on - I - want - that - you - use - only - sweet side Official subs: From now on, I just want to see you being lovey-dovey.

This actually makes Fadel laugh a bit and ask for clarification and when he looks at Style after that, his face is suddenly so much softer. Style explains: "In a situation like this, if we weren't fighting, what would you like to do to me?" He smiles at Fadel, his face expectant and mixed with almost a sort of innocence like Oh, this is totally not an implicit request for you to kiss me and it also has a bit of a challenging flair like Do you dare to kiss me? The message reaches Fadel loud and clear. He dares. As long as Style is alive he'd make Fadel kiss him again. And Style did. Fadel is kissing him. By Fadel's own choice. Style left it entirely up to him, didn't force Fadel to kiss him, didn't get physically close to him, didn't try to seduce him in any way, didn't even explicitly say the words "kiss me" out loud. In fact, Style asked "What would you like to do to me?" and Fadel could really have chosen to do anything, but what Fadel wanted to do was to kiss Style. Style may have said earlier that he'd lose to Fadel, but is Style really losing here with Fadel back at his side?

Now. The eyes. Let me address the eyes, because I've seen talk about it. Honestly, the way Style's eye keep fluttering open kinda reminds me of what I wrote about the ep6 rock concert kiss and forehead touch in my ep6 meta:

They seal that promise with a kiss. And it's interesting, because Style doesn't immediately close his eyes when Fadel goes to kiss him but instead looks at him for a moment longer. And then his eyes keep fluttering open for a moment. It's almost as if he can't tear his eyes away from Fadel, as if he can't help but use every opportunity to look at Fadel, to catch every last glimpse of Fadel while he still has the opportunity to do so. They break apart and Fadel tells Style that he's (also) very happy tonight and Style (re)confirms his own happiness. They lean their foreheads against each other. And again, Style can't really close his eyes and fully sink into the moment the way Fadel can. It's like he tries to close his eyes but they keep fluttering open a second later because he just can't keep his eyes away from Fadel, is compelled to keep looking at him while he still can, while Fadel is still right there with him. And even when they break away from each other and turn to look out of the window towards the stage, it takes Style a couple of seconds to tear his eyes away from Fadel, who is already looking elsewhere.

Except now it's the polar opposite energy. Back at the concert, it was the end for Style. Now in the water it's a (new) beginning. Back at the concert it was like Style had to savor every last look at Fadel that he could get before it was too late. Now in the water it again feels like Style just can't stop looking at Fadel, but for a different reason. I think it's undeniable that Style is deeply in love with Fadel. But Fadel started pushing him away from the moment Bison was stabbed and at first Style didn't even know what the fuck was happening, especially with how weirdly affectionate Fadel had been the day before. And from then on Fadel has just kept pushing Style away again and again, outright tried to murder him even, and then just kept refusing Style, kept refusing to believe Style no matter how much Style tried to show him just how serious he was about his feelings for Fadel and how serious he was about their relationship. Fadel was pushing Style away so much that even Style, our beacon of optimism and hope, believer in the power of love, even he was starting to get discouraged that Fadel would ever take him back. But now Fadel is here, kissing him again. Style can't believe his eyes and it's like he has to keep looking at Fadel to check that he's really not dreaming, that Fadel really is here, standing in front of him, kissing him. It's the relief that he is finally getting his Fadel back which makes him unable to stop looking at Fadel to make sure it's real.

And another aspect my mom actually mentioned when I was talking to her about this scene was that Style is also checking on Fadel. I don't remember her reasoning, but for me personally it's that Fadel has been very hot-and-cold lately, jumping from saving Style's life to pushing him away again and threatening him in the very next moment. And as I mentioned above, Fadel is not the only one with a heart that can get hurt. Style is also human, Style also has a heart, Style can also get hurt. Even if it may not seem like it through his easy-going, unserious, always optimistic personality. Style is human and Style isn't the only one here between the two of them who did something hurtful to the other. And so I think part of the reason why Style's eyes keep fluttering open is to check Fadel's reactions. Because just because Fadel is in hot-mode right now, doesn't mean he won't jump right back into cold-mode from one second to the next. And so Style has to keep checking so that he's prepared for it if it happens again, because I'm not sure Style's heart could handle it if Fadel suddenly pushed him away again now without a warning. It would be like that time Fadel dumped him in the kitchen back in episode 4, except this time Style would probably be even more hurt than back then, because now he is undeniably irrevocably deeply in love with Fadel. If Fadel pushed him away again now I think that would actually break Style for real.

But Fadel doesn't. They break apart and Fadel nuzzles his face into Style's neck for a moment (definitely kissing it) and then they lean their foreheads against each other for a while. Together again at last.

No. 8: Lore

They're back in the room and Fadel is about to finish renewing Style's bandages after their little swim in the ocean. Fadel tells Style not to do something like this again. Style smiles and says "But I gotta pull some dramatic stunt for someone like you." Fadel huffs in response but is otherwise very focused on the bandages and doesn't reply. Now that they're finally one on one again and Style is also no longer dying of pain, he uses the chance to finally, albeit hesitantly, ask about the guy on the photo in the car. One could think that Style asks out of jealousy, but to be honest, I don't think so. As I mentioned in the beginning of this meta, I think he'd have a gut feeling if that guy was someone who could actually be a potential rival. Also, there's a chance that the person on the photo was also just a family member or something, not necessarily someone Fadel was romantically involved with. Besides, Fadel did tell him that he didn't have any past lovers and that he didn't want a lover in the first place to avoid getting anyone in trouble. So I think rather than out of jealousy, Style asks out of curiosity and genuine care. Fadel has shared next to nothing about his past, but Style wants to know. His voice is full of concern, but not because he feels threatened by the guy in the photo. Instead it's genuine worry for Fadel. Style hesitates to ask and seems almost a little nervous, as if he's scared that this question will cause Fadel to shut him out again.

Fadel stares at Style for quite a long moment, then goes back to the bandage without answering Style's question. Style immediately says "I'm sorry for prying. If you don't want to tell me, I understand" and that cements it even more for me that Style isn't asking out of jealousy. Because I think if he was jealous, he'd try to find out more. I don't think he'd be all that chill with Fadel not answering his question. No, I think Style's question is him cautiously trying to learn more about Fadel's past, but Style will also respect Fadel's boundaries if Fadel isn't ready to talk about it. Especially since last time Style insisted on Fadel opening up about his past, Fadel dropped that his parents were shot dead. So when Fadel doesn't answer, Style is quick to let him know that he won't be prying this time and that Fadel doesn't have to talk if he doesn't want to. And it's only then that Fadel makes the decision to open up after all. That guy is his ex. This new information has Style a little speechless as it dawns on him that Fadel lied about not having had a boyfriend before.

Once Style has processed this, he continues to ask how long Fadel had been dating this guy for and the reason why they broke up. And again, I don't think Style is bothered by the fact that Fadel does have an ex. There is so much worry and care in his voice as well as on his face while he talks and listens to Fadel. He genuinely cares to know about Fadel's past. And Fadel shares willingly and without any more hesitation: They were gonna start a life together but then the guy disappeared from one day to the other. Fadel jokes "Maybe he was scared of me, thinking I'd kill him if he broke up with me" and Style huffs and smiles a little, but that smile doesn't really reach his eyes.

Style doesn't think the joke is all that funny. He looks at Fadel fondly, but I think he also really feels for him. He feels bad for him for getting dumped like that and feels sad that Fadel thinks his past lover might have been scared of him, so terrified even that he didn't even want to confront him. And we know the latter part specifically really gets to Style, because the next thing he does is that he grabs Fadel's hand and tells him "I'm not scared of you". And Style is about to continue that sentence, but for a moment he just lets this part stand on its own, lets Fadel process that first before he goes on. Style isn't afraid of Fadel and it's important to him that Fadel knows that. Style continues to say that he hasn't been scared of Fadel since he saved the woman at the bowling alley and I call bullshit on that. I think Style stopped being afraid of Fadel by the end of episode 5 and I wrote 12k words about it. However, I do think the bowling alley incident cemented what Style was saying about Fadel being a good person last episode in the bathtub. Style ends with "You risked your life for a total stranger. I know I'm in love with the right man." And let me just...

A person who risks their own life for someone they don't even know. คนที่เอาชีวิตตัวเองไปเสี่ยงเพื่อคนที่ไม่รู้จักด้วยซ้ำ​ [kon - tîi - ao - chee-wít dtuua eng - bpai - sìiang - pêuua - kon - tîi - mâi - rúu-jàk - dûuay sám] person - that - take - one's own life - go - risk - for - person - that - not - know - even I love the right person. กูรักถูกคนแล้วละ [guu - rák - tùuk - kon - láew - lá] I - love - right - person - already - [particle]

I do much prefer the phrasing of "I love the right person", because it's not just a state of being, but it's something that Style actively does, is actively doing, has actively been doing, actively chooses to do over and over again.

Style's words really hit Fadel. And I think this time, he finally fully believes them, finally lets himself fully believe them. Fadel goes through quite the emotional journey, then grabs Style's arm and puts it over him as he lays his head in Style's lap. Fadel finally gets to be a child seeking comfort. Style's free hand immediately finds Fadel's head to stroke him. At one point Style smiles a little and shakes his head, looking a bit amused.

It's my personal headcanon that in this moment Style is remembering Bison's words about Fadel being all rough on the outside, but actually being a huge softie inside and is laughing to himself about how it's true. He currently has a very soft (and vulnerable) Fadel in his lap after all he roughness that Fadel put him through. They continue to stay like this until the end of the scene.

No. 9: Peace, Joy, Egg Cake

Allow me to bulk the last few scenes into one last section and allow me to mostly just skip over them a bit, since there isn't all that much plot happening here and it's more about the characters getting to be a little happy again at the end of this story arc before we go into the last bit (can you tell I'm just trying to get this meta done asap so I can hopefully drop it before ep10 lmao).

We got our OT4 happily playing frisbee in the water and it makes me laugh how Style's wound getting infected apparently isn't the same big problem anymore as it was the night before. It also makes me laugh how Style is apparently also perfectly capable of lifting an entire human man with that injured arm of his. I remember this one time a couple of years ago where I scraped open my entire leg and I couldn't walk on it for at least a week without being in pain, so like. Good on your pain tolerance @ Style, I guess. Same thing with Bison and his stab wound. And Fadel's sprained arm has magically healed as well, apparently. Not to mention Kant with his ocean trauma having absolutely no problem letting loose in the ocean water. This show is so unserious, I love it.

After they're done playing in the water, they sit on the shore and have a conversation about staying on the island, except Fadel reminds Bison that they still have one last job to do. Although Fadel then also says "Once we wrap up the last mission, we can go anywhere and do anything. Not sure if they'd come with us, though." For the last sentence, Fadel turns his head and says it directly into Style's face. This statement was 100000% directed at Style and Style alone, not Kant. Style stares at Fadel for a moment and then makes a face like My love, do you really even need to ask after I've followed you all the way here?

Then he says "Just tell me where, and I'll go with you." and I shake my hands at the writers in disappointment, because this would have been THE opportunity to bring back "hitman teerak". Especially because the wording is also kind of similar.

Episode 7: Tell me where you wanna go na krub, hitman-teerak. มึงอยากไปไหนอ่ะ บอกกูมาเลยนะครับนักฆ่าที่รัก [mueng - yàak - bpai - năi - àh • bòhk guu maa - loiie - ná - kráp - nák-kâa - tîi-rák] you - want - go - where - [particle] • tell me - [particle] na - krub - hitman - teerak Official subs: I'll drive you where you want me to go, my dear hitman. Episode 9: Tell me where you're going. I'm all ready to go. จะไปที่ไหนก็บอก กูพร้อมไปอยู่ละ [jà - bpai - tîi năi - gôh - bòhk • guu - próm - bpai - yùu - lá] will - go - where - [sentence link] - tell • I - ready- go - [auxillary verb] - [particle] Official subs: Just tell me where, and I'll go with you.

Please tell me, does the episode 9 sentence not scream for a "hitman teerak" drop? Does it not look a little incomplete?

Anyway, Style continues to say a very Style thing and Fadel laughs. This has Kant quite impressed. I have not gone back and checked if Kant is right about never having seen Fadel laugh, but I'm just gonna assume it's true. The only scene that I can think of where Kant may have seen Fadel laugh is at the bowling alley in episode 5, but Kant would have had to be looking at Fadel to see actually see that. Also let me just...

Please, the way Style is smiling so brightly at Fadel. He's so over the moon to have his Fadel back. With everyone being so happy and cute it just has me very worried about what next episode might have in store for them, especially considering the preview (we're not gonna have any more injuries on this show, are we? 🥺🙏).

As for Style's mood in the scene with everyone on the boat on the way back to land, I'm just gonna leave Joong's tweet here...

(Overview | Ep1+2 | Ep3 | Ep4 | Ep5 | Ep6 | Ep7 | Ep8)

[bookie-bookdust]

Helpful (but Aggressive) Guide to the new Hogwarts Legacy PC Mod Update✨

I have been seeing NOTHING BUT COMPLAINING about this damn update and no one actually trying to help each other. So I'm going to do my damn best here to give you a little intro into this new update. Because instead of leaning into the standard toxic consumerism bullshit of fandom, why don't we actually try to be nice to each other?? And the fucking modders who put all this time and effort into making this for us?!?!!?!?!? Special thanks to @anomalyaly because we were up last night trying to figure this out LOL. These screenshots are hers and mine!

PART ONE: Why is my game crashing?

You need to delete your old Nexus ~mod folder from the game files. Throw it in the trash, cut and past it somewhere in your documents, idc. Just get it out of there. The pathway to find it is:

2. Steam senses your bad attitude and don't like it idk. I'm not IT. Turn it off and back on again.

NOTE: Once you start up the game and get it working, you can bring back compatible mods from Nexus. You just need to create a new folder to put them in. It can't be the original one. If your game crashes after that, then you have an incompatible mod in there. You'll have to go down the list until you narrow down which one it is - typically will be a face mod, hair mod, jewelry, or a mod that already exists in the new mod store thing. Yeet it.

PART TWO: I'm not going to teach you how to add the new in-game mods and start the game. I'm not your mom. It's pretty intuitive honestly.

PART THREE: Where the fuck are the clothing mods I just added????

An excellent question, my new charge. You need to go to GladRags to get them. You're going to have to long rest at least three days for them to show up in his store. For me, it took five times lol. This is kind of annoying, but it needs to be immersive to the game I guess so oh well. I don't think we'll die from it.

See all those red exclamation points? That was my fault. I loaded a wizard clothing mod into a witch save. So if you see that, you loaded something you shouldn't have.

PART FOUR: HOW DO I CHANGE MY UGLY ASS HAIR?

Easy peasy lemon squeezy. You're going to go to that hairstyle lady in Hogsmeade I'm too lazy to look up the name of. That bitch charges you for the new hairstyles but you can download unlimited money cheats so whatever.

Don't mind my face lol. I was having a BP makeup glitch LOL

PART THIRTY-SEVEN: How do I change my makeup?

This part sucks. RIGHT NOW as of 1/31/2025, you have to be in the main character design screen at the beginning of the damn game. BUT BUT BUT - if you mod back in the BP character editor, you can do it anywhere. My hope is a new mod will replace this so the game works more smoothly.

Those white spaces? They're the new in-game mods for hair and makeup. Well, most of them. I think some are just random blank spaces lol.

Part Six: Where are my unlocked spells and unlimited plants and shit?

Two reasons they're not showing up:

If you just added this mod and you load your game in the middle of the mission, you need to finish the mission first.

You probably have something incompatible (a nexus mod) that isn't playing nice. Yeet it.

After getting everything squared away, I look fucking great. You are not doomed to a potato face🥔. I FUCKING PROMISE YOU ON SOLOMON'S LIFE.

Truly guys, once you work out the kinks in this update, it's really. fucking. nice.

Before I reinstalled the nexus mods, the game was running so smoothly and the graphics were beautiful. I loaded in 20 mods all at once, and the game handled them just fine. After reloading the nexus mods it was a bit clunky, but of course it would be.

I know change is scary. Also for those who spent time creating/commissioning mods that are no longer compatible, they have the biggest right to be freaking out. BUT BUT BUT we all fucking know the old mods AND SO MANY MORE will be back soon. People are working their asses off in the background converting things right now.

I want to put some things into perspective for you:

We have not had a real update in two years (no, photo mode doesn't count). This is literally the best kind of update we could ever ask for. We are not dependent on the devs for updates with this. In the launch event they were speaking as if you can create your own quests; there are audio mods....think about it guys. Endless protentional. (The only things that aren't going to make it are if you have weird ass like engorgio penis mods because there's no way they're approving those for public use hahahaha)

The devs reached out to people in the community to ask for feedback and to collaborate. THEY CARE ABOUT THE FANDOM. Consider what that may mean for the sequel??? We might not be forced to stomach Hogwarts Legacy 2: Dumbledore's Jorts. They're listening (but they're not going to listen if you're fucking rude and stupid).

You guys shitting on this update very vocally here, on twitter, and on tiktok are forgetting that people in your community helped create it and can SEE YOU. STOP IT. Whine in private!!!!!! Also because I knowww I have to specify because someone is going to take everything personally, I don't mean posts making funny jokes about the updates and just being like ahhhh wtf is going on I'm so lost and whatnot. Like please guys, read the room. I'm referring to nasty comments.

So yes, I'm here with a positive review of the update, and an insanely aggressive reminder to calm the fuck down and go touch some grass. The old mods will be back soon. This update makes using them so much easier. Also, THE POOR CONSOLE PLAYERS DON'T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING YET SOOOOOOOO

I WILL NOT BE TAKING ANY QUESTIONS OR CRITICISM SO STFU. THANKS FOR READING THIS LONG ASS POST IF YOU'RE STILL HERE. OKAAAY BYEEeeEE.

[pushspacetocontinue]

Russell chuckled just a little bit. As far as he thought, Rowan was just making a little joke.

"Heh, I uh, I, heh, I can't, can't make any promises about that, that second part," he joked then.

He had thought about getting up to help with the drinks and the slices of pie, but it seemed that Rowan had it under control and Russell didn't want to make thing awkward or give the wrong impression.

"Th-thank you," Russell said with a small but genuine smile when Rowan returned, "I, I hope you, you enjoy yours too."

It seemed like it didn't disappoint if the look on Rowan's face, which was a relief. He would have felt rather bad if he picked something Rowan hadn't liked.

"I'm, I'm really glad to hear that," Russell said, "Oh, heh, th-thank you. That's, that's real kind of, of you. I, I just try to, to be a, to be a decent guy, is, is all."

But then he smiled once more. The static wasn't so feeling bad now that he had started to get the feeling that this man was more of a friend than a potential threat. The sixth sense was settling.

"That's, that's real good to, to know," Russell said, "I'm sure, I'm sure it'll, it'll be, be great for you in, in that case. Oh, y-yeah, sure, that, that sounds good to me. I admit I uh, heh, I uh, I don't get out much but I uh, I do know a few, a few nice parks and, and, and places to, to chill. I can, I can gladly show you on, on a free day if, if you'd like that."

Heh. Sweet treats. Just like him. Rowan stood to go order their drinks and food.

“Now that sounds delicious. I’ll got get it for us. You just sit here, relax, and keep lookin pretty.” Rowan gave him a wink as he headed to the counter. The curse of the fae was having a sweet tooth. And what Russell had picked really did sound perfect.

Easily balancing the plates and drinks back to the table, he served it with a bit of a flare.

“Your caramel dulce latte and apple pie.” The moment Rowan took a sip of his own his eyes widened.

“Oh! Wow! You weren’t kidding. This is really good!” The apple pie didn’t disappoint either. “These are almost as sweet as you.”

Leaning back again the fae thought for a moment. It was hard to explain that the whole area just… buzzed with energy. Almost like the Veil. Maybe that was why he was drawn here. Couldn’t say that though.

“It starting to feel like home. I’ve moved so often that I don’t usually get attached to an area, you know? But I think I might be able to settle here.” He smiled and couldn’t help but add, “and since you’ve been here so long, I bet you could show me all the sights, huh?”

[mntds]

Was wondering why I was struggling with TNK and then I went back and looked at 1.1 and realized it introduces NINE different speaking roles within the first couple minutes of the play? My brothers. Please calm down. We have plenty of time.

[emathevampire]

A Reconsecration in Blood and Twilight

Happy Pride to everyone, but especially to my beloved prince in horns Askalaphos and his blackguard, Solar, an NPC from our Ravenloft campaign.

Once a devout paladin of the Morning Lord, then of Mother Night after his death, corrupt rebirth, and subsequent fall from grace as he pursued power no matter the cost in the pursuit of vengeance against Strahd... the aasimar blackguard Solar now learns what it is to be true to his own heart as the newest disciple of Askalaphos, a fallen demigod son of Ares and former slave to the Abyss slowly regaining his own spark of divinity and sense of purpose as he seeks an escape from the mists of Ravenloft. None of this would have been possible, however, had their mutual annoyance friend Rixa not been dead-set on saving the both of them from themselves, despite their belief that this was a hopeless cause... or if they had not joined forces to save her in return when she was captured by her nemesis. A long and dangerous road still lies between them and victory over Strahd, the Dark Powers, and the corruption that stains their very souls, but walk it they shall... after all, nothing worth fighting for is ever easy.

[girlcrushau]

[good-beanswrites]

Hello, I've been thinking about your actors au. Are you doing anything about Rei and Mikio being the only side characters with faces in the first trial? Because I do have a theory about that which I haven't posted but I always thought that was really interesting. Even Yamanaka pointed it out in the first anniversary stream.

Ah, I definitely want to!! Mikio is the man in Harrow, right? (There's also maybe-Rumerie in Bring it On who drives me crazy to this day asdfsd) I'm hoping once the project ends and we get the bigger picture, I can really highlight their relationships more. I'll touch on some of my ideas real quick, but I'd love to hear your theory if you ever end up posting it 👀

My problem is, I originally thought the faces show the prisoners' love towards them, and not necessarily mutual relationship -- which causes some hiccups with including them as characters in the au... (Including t2 faces), Haruka hungers for his mother's love, but given her abuse, they couldn't in good conscience have her on set with him. Rumerie may have been some sort of friend, but he didn't seem so close that he'd be okay seeing Fuuta again and being implicated in his crime. Muu cares very deeply for Rei, but even if the murders never occurred, I can't picture a young girl would feel safe filming her own death at the hands of her bully... I ran into a similar issue with Mahiru and Kazui's partners, but as adults I felt like it was easier and safer for them to consent to the situation.

However! The fact that Kotoko's victim has a clear face really interests me, because that's the only one that (seemingly) has no established relationship or love between them. What could Muu's realtionship with her classmate have in common with Kotoko's and the victim she hunted down from a distance? So I'd love to compare with your thoughts and reevaluate my theory as the new mvs come out...

[manmuncher777]

Roommate!Gojo who sends you off on your date with a pang of jealousy ripping its way through his body. Why couldn’t you be dressing up like that to spend the night with him. He knew you were excited, this was the most you’d dressed up in a long time, your hair sitting do perfect after the hours he watched you spend on it. The outfit you chose showing your figure in a way that had him clenching a fist, trying not to reach out and let his fingers dance over your exposed skin. That intoxicating perfume filling his nose as he stood so close, wishing you a good night before the door finally shut, and the only trace left behind was the small waves of your sweet scent still lingering in the air

Roommate!Gojo who is confused when he hears your keys in the door just 2 hours later, he wasnt even expecting you back tonight.

Roommate!Gojo rushing to your side when he sees your pretty face puffed up with tears, concern lacing his tone. Utter joy racing through him in reality, but he was still sad to see you so upset

Roommate!Gojo who listened to youn blubber and rant about how this was your first date in a long time and how you just wanted a nice night. He listened to you rant about how much an asshole the guy was all while stoking your hair and kissing your head as you sat wrapped up in his arms

Roommate!Gojo who almost died then and there when he heard you complain how men were shit and you “just wanted to get laid”

“that might be something I can help with gorgeous” he whispered before anything could stop him, His reaction basically automatic

Roommate!Gojo who had your crying for a nothing reason a few moment later as he was burying himself between heaven you thighs. Hot tears streamed down your face as the mans thick tongue worked his way through your folds, playing with your little bundle of nerves. Small whimpers leaving his throat as your taste made him rock hard. His hands gripping your thighs, keeping them spread wide for him so he could see you in all your glory “Pretty girl, if you were needing to cum all you had to do was ask me” his syrupy voice rang out in your fucked out head in between his vulgar licks of your dripping cunt “That asshole didnt deserve to see you so pretty” he whispered into your cunt. “I had half a mind to drag you back in a fuck you against the door seeing you dressed like that”

His words rippling over your, breaking you more and more. You had no choice but to listen to him as he teased and taunted you.

You couldn’t even bother yourself to respond, not after his fingers slid into your cunt so easily, the squelch of your wetness echoing in the room.

Roommate!Gojo who couldn’t wait to get his throbbing cock inside that needy little pussy of yours. He’d thought of this moment for months and he wasn’t quite sure how it was actually happening.

Roommate!Gojo who had you naked and spread over his bed right now, looking at your fucked out features. Your skin laced with sweat, your hair still beautifully framing face, those tits hed spent so many night imagining while he fucked his fist now open for him to see, all marked from his touch. That beautiful cunt of yours dripping from the orgasms he had already pulled out of it, and yet you were still begging him for more

“please Satoru, I need you” you whined so sweetly beneath him and he teased his red leaking tip through your folds, coating himself I your slick. He soothed you, kissing your head gently “It’s okay pretty girl, ill give you whatever you need” he promised before lining himself up with your fluttering entrance and sinking himself deep inside.

The moan that left him was sinful as he bottomed out inside of you, you felt amazing wrapped around his cock, even better then he imagined.

Roommate!Gojo who couldn’t hold himself back for long, soon he was pistoning himself in and out of your sopping pussy, moaning incoherently abut how good you felt. You were more then happy to lay there and take every inch, every thrust he was giving you. Your mind so far gone you couldn’t do much more then whimper and moan and every move he made, his thick cock hitting that delicious part of your velvety walls with every stroke. Your eyes rolling back as your nails dragged red lines down his back

“There she is, theres my pretty girl” “cant believe all you needed was a good fucking sweetheart, all you had to do was ask” “been thinking about this tight little pussy for ages” “come on baby, take it, this is what you where begging for” “such a good girl for me, taking it so well” “awh, you like this don’t you? filthy girl”

Roommate!Gojo who was a stuttering mess, his head falling into your shoulders as his hips never stopped their brutal pace, his balls slapping against you with each thrust. It wasnt long before he had you cumming again that night. Your wall squeezing him tight as you flooded his perfect skin with you juices. You could do nothing but moan his name, so sweetly in his ear that his orgasm hit him as well. His balls tightening as he fucked him cum deep into you. His pushing himself deeper with each finishing thrust. A deep groan coming from his chest as his hips faultered and finally stopped. Both of you lying there, panting.

“next time you need a good fuck princess, let me know” he whispered into you ear

You wouldve hit the smug bastard if you werent so sure that you would be taking him up on his offer again the next day

[ghouljams]

Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?

Rating: E (MDNI) Words: ~11k Tags: Ghost x f!Reader, Dirtbag!Ghost, strangers -> ???, groping, non-con kissing, coerced consent, oral (F!Receiving), fingering, squirting, piv sex, kidnapping? Summary: A stranger online promises he'll make your parents' Christmas hell, and you're eager to take him up on the offer. You may have bitten off more than you can chew.

<Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?

[casual encounters]

“I am a 35 year old former SAS operator with no A levels, tattoos, and a motorcycle. I can play anywhere from 30 to 40 depending on if I shave. I’m a line cook and I work late nights at my mate’s bar. If you’d like to have me pretend to be in a long term serious relationship with you, to torment your family, I’m game.

I can do these things, at your request:

Openly hit on female guests while you act like you don’t notice

Start instigative discussions about religion and/or politics

Propose to you in front of everyone

Talk at length about my time in the army including what it felt like to kill a man(good or bad your choice)

Pretend to be really drunk as the evening goes on(don’t drink much these days, but I know the drill)

Start an actual, physical fight with a family member, either inside or on the front lawn for all the neighbors to see.

Only pay I want is the free meal and the entertainment.”

-do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers

*

RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?” 

To:SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From:URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Is this offer still open?

*

RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

From: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

Depends how far you want me to travel.

-S

*

RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Any chance you’re in the XXXXX area? I’ll buy you lunch and we can talk details.

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

From: SASRiley@xxxxxxx.xx

Close enough for a free meal. I’m in XXXX

-S

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

To: SASRiley@xxxxxx.xx

From: URHere@xxxxxx.xx

Let’s meet at Gallery Eats. Also can you send me an ID or something so I know what you look like?

*

RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: “Alone on Christmas? Mad at your dad?”

[attachment] [attachment]

Know you birds get jumpy, send it out to your little friends. 

Tuesday 15:30

See you there 

-S

*

He’s already at the shop when you get there, scrolling through his phone with his legs spread wide under the little wooden table, a full-face motorcycle helmet taking up more than half of the tiny tabletop.

You hadn’t realized how big the guy would be. Even sitting down he’s massive. You’d bet money he’s over six foot, and he easily eclipses the little cafe chair he’s settled in. His craigslist ad wasn’t lying when it said “tattoos.” The guy’s arms are covered in swirling black ink, and you follow the line of it up to the dark collar of his shirt where it peaks out to creep up his neck. He’s perfect. Your folks will hate him.

Dark eyes meet yours and a smirk creeps over his face, it tugs at a thin scar bisecting his lips.

He stands, and you bee-line for him.

“Thank god you look like your picture.” You huff, settling your bag on the chair across from him.

“That any way ta greet your man?” He grunts, holding a hand out. “Simon.”

You take his hand with a smile, and feel thick fingers wrap around your own. You glance down at the dark seal on the back of his hand, the carefully inked numbers already fading with age spelling out “141.” 

“So,” He smiles, leaning so far back in his seat that the chair tips, “How mad are we talkin’?”

*

It turns out Simon’s motorcycle isn’t his only mode of transportation. You roll up to your parents house in a half-wrapped muscle car that Simon claims he’s been “working on” and you can almost smell the distaste radiating off of your folks when they peak through the front window. Simon makes a big show of ignoring you while you try to get the oddly shaped Christmas gifts out of the trunk, lighting a cigarette and checking his phone while you struggle. Finally your parents decide to wander out onto their front step, and your father stalks over to take the bulkier gifts from you while Simon eyes him.

You grin at him, already pleased with his grumbling and glaring at Simon. Simon, for his part, offers a, “Sure it ain’t too heavy old man?” That makes a vein on your father’s temple throb angrily. He ambles after you and your father, and makes a show of giving your mom a once over.

“Sweetheart!” Your mother grimace-smiles at you, “Who is this?”

“This is Simon,” You sigh, leaning against Simon with a dopey smile, “My boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend.” Your mother grits her teeth, “You didn’t say you were bringing a guest.”

“Oh I know, but you can pull up a chair, right?” You gasp, “We’re not messing up your table are we?”

Your mother’s eye twitches. You know her well enough to know she’s already thinking about people bumping elbows at an overcrowded table. You can almost hear your little cousins complain about the lack of space. You also know she’ll never admit her annoyance in front of a guest.

“Of course not.” She smiles tightly, “The more the merrier.” She turns to Simon. “It’s nice to meet you Simon.”

Simon finally takes his cue, tossing his ashy cigarette onto the stone walkway with a flick of his fingers. He exhales nearly into your mother’s face before seemingly remembering last minute that, that’s rude.

“Nice to meet you,” His eyes flick down to your mother’s chest, “Can see where the bird gets ‘er tits from.”

You could scream with laughter the way your mother’s lips tighten into a thin line and her brows twitch down ever so slightly, the picture of barely contained shock and disgust. You can feel your father fuming on the other side of you.

“Why don’t we put presents down?” You chirp, trying to play at oblivious while Simon leers at your mother. She does her best to subtly cross her arms and tug the neck of her sweater closed. “Simon, do you have a hand to help dad?”

“Course, sweet’eart.” He hums, leaning to kiss your temple. A sweet gesture if he didn’t grab a handful of your ass at the same time, angled precisely so you’re sure your dad can see. “Christ you got a fat ass,” He mumbles, his voice low and graveled as he squeezes you again. You feel your cheeks heat in spite of yourself. It’s all pretend, all things you’ve talked about, but that doesn’t stop your body from reacting. His big hand lingers, fingers dragging over your ass as he pushes past your parents into the house. Uninvited.

You ignore your mother’s pointed look under the pretense of juggling presents, pushing into the house after your fake boyfriend.

Simon unceremoniously snatches the gifts from your father as soon as he’s in the house, haphazardly tossing the boxes under the tree while you carefully place your own presents, seemingly ignorant of your boyfriend’s lack of care.

“So how was the drive?” Your dad asks, trying to find something to talk about.

“Bloody awful,” Simon butts in before you can answer, he jerks his head in your direction, “‘ad to listen to the bird’s music the ‘ole time.”

“I thought you liked my music,” You pout.

“When tha fuck ‘ave I ever said that?” He snaps at you. You stifle the flinch and watch Simon’s brows draw down ever so slightly.

When you’d gone through all the details for this he’d told you to try and temper your flinching, assured you that you didn’t need to be scared of him, that if you were dating he’d never lay a hand on you. That didn’t stop his quick, harsh, response from startling you. At least the small crease in his brow made you think he didn’t enjoy the reaction.

“When we first met.” You smile, playing it off. 

“And you believed that?” Simon huffs, “Can’t believe I’m the first one to grab ya off the street with ‘ow gullible ya are.”

You blink at him, and turn to hastily cover for him to your dad.

“A consensual grabbing.” You assure him.

“Think I’m still deaf in my right ear from ‘ow loud ya screamed.” Simon grumbles, digging a finger into his ear as if to demonstrate his hearing loss. You feel your cheeks heat reflexively. Even fictional it’s embarrassing to imagine that you might have met a long term serious boyfriend in a kidnapping attempt.

Nevermind that the idea of someone like Simon grabbing you off the street is a major plot point in some of your favorite videos. You try to keep your mind out of the gutter, a difficult task with Simon’s fingers grazing your ass.

“It was a prank.” You continue covering.

“Bet actually.” Simon corrects in an attempt to make things worse. “Seein’ ‘oo could take the prettiest bird ‘ome.” He nudges your dad as if he’s bringing him in on the joke, “Should’ve seen ‘ow much this one struggled, should’ve known she’d be an ‘andful.”

“Your friends sound-” Your dad swallows whatever distaste boils behind his tongue in an effort to keep the peace, “interesting.”

“Served together.” Simon sniffs.

“Oh!” Your father seems to brighten at this new information.

“Lost a lot of good men, but kept all the worst, eh bird?” Simon tosses a smile your way. The playful grin lights up his face, tugs at his scars in a way that’s far too charming. 

“Where did you serve?” Your father asks, too eager for war talk.

“Went where I was needed.” Simon grunts. It’s an end to the conversation. You can see your father trying to think of where to go from there, if he should push for a different answer or ask about if Simon enjoyed his time in the service. He settles on exactly what you’re sure Simon was hoping for.

“So what do you do now?”

You almost brace yourself for his answer, and you’re glad for the added tension in your shoulders because it stops you from barking out a laugh.

“Beside fuckin’ the bird?” He doesn’t get another word out before your father growls out a loud.

“Alright-” that your mother cuts off with her well timed, if sudden entrance.

“Your aunt is on her way,” She informs you, “She’s excited to meet your boyfriend.”

“You got a lot of people comin’ ta this thing?” Simon asks, as if you hadn’t given him a full guest list.

“Just a few,” Your mother smiles, “my sister lives nearby so she’ll be bringing her boys.”

“Would���ve been nice ta know there were brats comin’ ta this thing,” Simon gives you a look and you pout.

“I told you this was a family thing.” You remind him.

“Didn’t know ya had so much family,” He sniffs, “Brother isn’t comin’ ta this too is ‘e?”

You have to stop yourself from grinning at the family landmine Simon so perfectly walked into.

“Henry doesn’t come to family functions anymore,” Your mother tells him curtly.

“Heard ‘e got tired of havin’ you scare off ‘is girls,” Simon grins, “thought you’d be a bigger bitch.” You choke. You mother’s gaze whips to you and you carefully go about adjusting the presents under the tree just so you don’t have to look at her. 

“Well I don’t know where you heard that,” The high note in your mother’s voice betrays her, the faux-calmness barely covering the boiling anger that’s starting to show, “but it’s not true.”

“Are you callin’ me a liar,” Simon’s voice takes an icy note in response and you glance over your shoulder to watch him roll his shoulders back. You can see the way his musculature moves even under his jumper. The threat is palpable, and also completely inappropriate for the situation.

He’s good at this.

It’s your father’s turn to diffuse the situation.

“You a footie fan?” He asks, because he’s ass at calming your mother (or anyone else) down. You can practically feel Simon’s attention shift, like the air in the room has to adjust to the pressure he exerts.

“City.” Simon huffs. You dad grins, and you know exactly what he’s going to say. Playful ribbing that somehow always ends in a screaming match.

“Manchester boy, eh? Ya find it hard losin’ to Liverpool all the time or do ya get used to it?” Your father jokes. The question hangs dead in the air. Simon hasn’t moved a muscle, so still it scares even you, and you know it’s just an act.

“You like chewin’ your food?” Simon asks, his voice so deathly calm that you grab his arm with  a laugh and pull at him.

“He’s just kidding Simon,” You placate, trying to pull your --wow this guy’s bicep is huge-- fake boyfriend away, “Right dad?”

“Oh come on,” You father tosses your way with a shake of his head, “I can handle a Manc-” He snorts and turns to Simon “-at least better than their players handle the ball.”

Simon flexes under your hands, and you physically can’t restrain him from shaking you off to stalk over to your dad. 

“Simon please,” You plead, you don’t even have to act, the way he grabs your father by the shirt collar you all but leap to wrap your arms around his waist and try to pull him back, “not again!”

“Again!” Your mother yelps as your father holds his hands up, eyes wide with fear.

“It was a joke,” Your father assures Simon.

“Fuckin’ better be.” Simon relents, releasing his hold on your father and turning those dark eyes to you.

“Look’t you grabbin’ me,” He grabs you before you can let him go, your muscles still vibrating with adrenaline. He holds your face with the same hand that had held your father, squeezes your cheeks with his fingers.“Real cute, thinkin’ you could ‘old me back.” Your stomach flips. “Taught you better’n that didn’ I? You want somethin’ you gotta ask, yeah?”

“I don’-” You try to shake yourself back to your senses and Simon squeezes you a little tighter, “Please let go.” Embarrassment settles hot in your stomach at the spark of… something in Simon’s eyes.

“There’s my girl,” He smiles, “Now give us a kiss love.”

You feel your stomach drop out, and you’re sure it shows on your face. Simon raises a brow. Your tongue feels too big in your dry mouth. You swallow and glance at your parents.

“I thought you said no PDA,” You try. This wasn’t in the brief.

“Just on the cheek then,” His smile is absolutely devilish, you wonder where he learned it, “Wouldn’t want ta embarrass you in front of your folks.” Your mother scoffs. Simon turns to glare at her and you rush a quick peck on his cheek just to get it over with.

His stubble is sharp where it pokes against your lips, but his skin is surprisingly soft. You almost hesitate pulling away. Your skin already feels hot with the humiliation of kissing a veritable stranger whose only goal is to antagonize your parents for the evening, so you don’t waste time with the action.

You’re saved by your aunt opening the front door with a loud, excited:

“Happy Christmas!”

Before she freezes in the doorway. Your cousins rush in, seemingly unaware of the tension and you take the opportunity to pull out of Simon’s grip.

“Is this a bad time?” Your aunt asks as tactfully as she can given the energy in the house.

“It’s a great time,” Simon answers for the crowd with a smile. Your mother throws an alarmed look your way and does her best to plaster on something less emotional for her sister.

“I thought you were gonna help with the presents,” Your uncle calls from behind your aunt, who immediately turns to help him get the boxes in. You see her vaguely gesture at the house through the crack between the door and the frame and wonder just what she’s trying to convey. 

This holiday is already off to a terrible start. Which is great. But you can’t shake the feeling that it’s going… worse than you’d initially thought it would.

“When are we eating?” One of your cousins asks, you turn to see the teen, Jack, staring at you. You suppose you’re the only adult that ever really gives any of them the time of day, makes sense he’d ask you.

“Uh,” you blink, trying to come up with a decent answer for him, “probably soon.”

“I wanna open presents,” One of the little ones whines.

“You gotta wait,” Jack tells him. 

“Ok!” Your aunt announces as she comes back inside, now holding gifts, “Looks like you’ve already started the party!”

“Haven’t even started drinking yet,” Simon assures her. Your uncle joins the fray, shuffling past you to set his gifts under the tree as well.

“You drink.” Your mother clarifies with a smile, she’s hiding the horror well.

“I’m the life of the party love,” He tosses your mom a wink and turns to look around. You assume for the liquor.

“What do you drink?” Your uncle asks, good natured as usual. That’ll change.

“Bourbon.” Simon hums, “But I’ll take a beer if that’s all ya got.”

“Sure there’s somethin’ around here somewhere.” Your uncle meanders over to your parent’s short liquor cabinet and starts rifling through the bottles. Your mother shoots you a look that practically begs you to stop him.

“Do you need something mom?” You ask, oblivious.

“It’s just a little early to start drinking, don't you think?” She asks, a leading question. You know what she’s trying to do.

“You sayin’ I can’t get a drink?” Simon asks.

“Let the man have a drink,” You uncle cajoles, “It’s a holiday!”

Your mother’s lips press into a thin line. She doesn’t comment on the glass your uncle pours for Simon, but she does retreat to the kitchen with your aunt in toe. You’re almost tempted to follow them and see what they’re saying. Maybe you could throw some fuel on the fire. Simon throws an arm around your shoulders before you can move, holding you against his side to keep you in place. You glance up at him, he doesn’t look at you. 

You tug your phone from your pocket for something to do, trying to look busy and uninterested in the chaos Simon is sowing, when it’s all you can think about. He manages a normal conversation with your little cousins, going through introductions like a regular person, even commenting on the shirt Jack is wearing. You glance at it and just know that was a fight with his mother. Looks like it’s based off some horror movie, blood dripping off a knife held aloft by a masked figure. Not very Christmas-y.

You can almost hear the argument that must have taken place when he’d put it on.

Simon must be smart enough to figure that out because he’s really hyping up the teen over the shirt. Talking about the movie and complaining about how his mom sounds like a bitch. Your cousin blinks at the swear before you see a grin split his face.

“Fuck yeah, is aunty letting us swear now?” Jack asks, too excited to contain it.

“The fuck is she the queen of England?” Simon laughs, turning to you, “Your mum’s not lettin’ ‘em swear?” You shrug.

“She says it isn’t ‘proper’.” Jack rolls his eyes.

“Fuck proper.” Simon snorts. He shoots you a look as he sips his drink. You’re sure Jack will be cussing the rest of the evening with Simon to back him up. Your mom’s gonna love that.

Your aunt comes out of the kitchen and grabs her husband to whisper in his ear. Your uncle glances at Simon and makes a confused face. One of the younger ones runs up to them and loudly asks:

“What’s fuck mean?” 

Simon averts his gaze and you feel his shoulders shake with restrained laughter. You have to hold it in yourself, the glare your aunt sends Simon’s way is too funny. The kid was bound to hear it from his brother eventually. Really, Simon is saving the teen from being grounded with that one.

Your mom comes sweeping into the living room just in time to save Simon from getting an earful. Your aunt’s glare transfers to her before she can fix her face. Your mother’s lips pucker, an unpleasant understanding that something is happening crossing her eyes. She ignores it, much like every other unpleasant thing you’ve witnessed with her, in favor of normalcy.

“Dinner is ready!” She announces.

“That was fast,” You blink, usually she spends more time milling about and waiting for people to finish a few cocktails.

“Well,” She smiles at Simon, “I thought I’d speed things up so nobody misses any other christmases.”

“Got nowhere to be.” He informs her.

“Oh I’m sure you’re mother would-”

“Mum’s dead.” Simon sniffs.

“Then your fath-”

“If the bastard was still alive I’d kill ‘im myself.” Simon smiles at her over the rim of his glass before knocking back the rest of the bourbon and pouring himself another two fingers, “You got me all night if I want.”

Your mothers lips pucker again, the slightest hint of distaste in her expression before she manages a smile.

“We’re glad to have you.” She offers. You expect she’ll still try to force you out early. “Dinner?”

“Bloody starvin’.” Simon grunts, pushing past her towards the kitchen.

Your uncle is already serving himself from the various pans laden with food. Your father isn’t far behind him, eyeing the roast like a man starved.

You grab one of the Christmas patterned plates and hold it out to Simon, letting him queue behind your father. He glances around and you watch his eyes land on your cousins hovering nearby.

“Adults serve first,” You whisper to Simon when he steps back from the line for food to let the kids cut in front. It’s a quiet motion that presses him into you, he glances back like he might give you an apology before he makes eye contact with your aunt and loops his arm around you instead. 

“What?” He asks loudly, “Your mum tryin’ ta starve the poor buggers or somethin’?” You blink at him. He raises a brow. “No heart under those tits, eh?”

Your aunt gasps and he gives her a once over. You keep your eyes on your little cousins as they happily load up their plates with turkey and mashed potatoes. One of the older boys smothers his whole plate in gravy and honestly, you can’t blame him.

“Can’t be jealous, ya clearly got the better ass.” Simon tells your aunt as you scooch around him to get your own plate. He catches you around the middle and pulls you back, curling over you. He tips your head back with a hand on your throat, thick fingers squeezing just enough to dimple the skin.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks. You barely hear him over the roll of butterflies in your stomach. Your cheeks blaze with heat, and you clench your thighs together tight at the way he glowers down at you.

“I’m gonna make you a plate,” You tell him, he pinches your cheek and lets you free.

“Good girl,” He tells you, “Got ‘er well trained don’t I?” He jokes to your aunt, who you can feel radiating anger behind you.

You don’t really know what he likes, but Simon is a big guy so you get him a bit of everything, loading up his plate like you do this every day. It’s probably too much food, but part of you sort of likes the idea that he’s eating what you “made” for him. You hand him the full plate and he smiles, you turn back to grab your own food --you must still be nervous from having his hand at your throat-- and he smacks your ass. You bite back the yelp that threatens to break free. The sharp sting of pain spreads through you like wildfire, blossoming over your skin even through your skirt.

You quickly pile food onto your plate, hoping your aunt takes your speedy exit as one of embarrassment and not one of- well a different sort of embarrassment.

You manage to squeeze into the seat next to Simon, feeling his thick thigh press against yours like a warm anchor. Your mother gives him a dirty look as he reaches to fool with one of the candles in the middle of the table. You’re sure she heard his loud announcement that she doesn’t care about her nephews. His other hand settles on your leg under the table and you stiffen. Thick callused fingers grip your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh with something you desperately want to call reassurance. He knows no one can see that, right?

You watch the rest of your family fill the table, your little cousins already picking at their food, stuffing salad leaves into their mouths and pretending not to lick the gravy off their fingers. You wait for everyone to take their seats before you pick up your fork and your aunt shoots you a look.

“I’d like to-” your aunt starts only to be cut off by your fake-boyfriend.

“I want ta make an announcement.” Simon tells the table loudly, the conversation goes dead, your mother’s eyes bore holes into you, begging for anything but an announcement. You think she might bend her fork with how tight she grips it watching Simon shove his chair back to drop to one knee. You clasp a hand over your mouth, doing your best to play the part of shocked girlfriend, despite having planned this. 

“Simon!” You squeal as he tugs a black ring box from his pocket.

“Lemme talk baby,” Simon hushes you and you shut your mouth quickly, “I know it’s only been a couple a months-” the look in your mother’s eyes could kill an elephant, “-but I’m mad fer ya, an’ I know birds like you get off market quick so if I wanna keep that ass to myself I bloody well better get ya tied down.” Your mother gasps.

“Shut ya gob, I’m tryin’ ta propose.” He snaps at her, and she leans back like she’s been struck. Simon turns back to you, and you feel a rush of heat drip between your legs at the look in his eyes. This guy should be on TV with how good an actor he is.

“Will you marry me?” He finally gets out and you nod.

“Of course I will!” You fling yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

His big hands find your waist and squeeze. You pull away to take the ring box and he nearly pulls you out of your chair, only to push you back into it as he kisses you.

Your eyes go wide and you struggle to keep your hands on him when all you want to do is lurch away. Not a good look on an excited and newly ringed up girlfriend.

But the way he kisses you makes your stomach churn. His lips cover yours and almost as quickly as you get used to the feeling his tongue is trying to force its way into your mouth. You rush to close your eyes only to feel his tongue, thankfully, retreat. And be replaced by his teeth, biting your lip hard enough to bruise, prying your lips apart to slip his tongue in and lick your teeth. 

Your head swims, your eyes rolling at the way his hands grope and squeeze you, tagging every soft scrap they can find while he attempts to devour you. He does something with his tongue, twists it against yours to tickle the roof of your mouth, and you make a noise without meaning to. It’s all you can do to remember to clumsily slide your lips against his. You’re not sure you make a pretty picture when he pulls away, his spit trailing off your slick, swollen, lips. You suppose this evening isn’t really about painting a pretty picture.

It makes you squirm to feel his big thumb swipe over your lower lip, dragging the poor thing down to see your teeth. 

A chill racks your body as his eyes follow the motion of his thumb.

Your father loudly clears his throat. Your mother looks mortified. Your little cousins are covering their eyes while the teen pointedly looks at his phone.

Simon rubs the ring on your finger, pressing the metal back and forth against your skin. When the fuck did he put that on you?

“I’d like to say Grace,” Your aunt tries to wrestle the evening back into familiar territory as Simon sets you back in your chair. 

Your family bows their heads and you smack your knee on the underside of the table as you jump, unprepared for how high Simon’s hand settles on your thigh. You don’t even hear whatever prayer your aunt is saying with the way the blood rushes in your ears at the wide splay of Simon’s fingers. So. Close. 

You settle your hand on his and try to push him back to safe ground.

Jesus this guy is strong. Pain in your-

“Everything okay over there?” Your uncle asks. You must have looked like you were struggling more than you thought you were. 

“Fine,” You tell him, even though things are decidedly not fine and Simon won’t move his hand, “Just fussing with the ring.”

“Oh yes,” Your aunt holds her hand out across the table, “let’s see it.”

You hesitate before taking your hand off Simon’s. He doesn’t move, seemingly settled with where he’s settled. You hold your hand out for her to grab, let her turn your hand this way and that. Simon had told you he’d grab a ring, so you haven’t actually seen it yet. It’s pretty. A nice pear cut diamond with a trinity of what looks like pearls on either side. You wonder where he got it, you’re just glad it looks less fake than costume jewelry usually does.

“How nice,” Your mother coos, it sounds even less sincere than her compliments usually do.

You’re thankful you don’t need to do much talking at dinner. Simon more than makes up for you. He talks at length about how “mint” your friends are --he’s never met them-- and how his mates are begging for a go with you. He explains to your teen cousin, at length, how his violent video games could be worse, after your aunt bemoans the fact he’s been playing war sims. He makes no move to censor himself, actually from the few conversations you’ve had with him, you think he’s swearing more than he usually does. He even manages to start an argument with your father about “taking the gloves off” during combat.

“Different once you’re in active combat,” He explains like he’s talking to your father, “You do what you have to, keepin’ your ‘ands clean isn’t exactly front of your mind.”

You glace across the table at Jack, the teen looks completely invested in whatever Simon is saying. You can almost hear the look your aunt has fixed you with, you’re sure you’ll get a call later about your fiance “encouraging him to get himself killed.” 

“Oh please,” Your father blusters, “if that were the case the royal service would be under investigation. We’d see it on the BBC: Special Air Service members torture civilians. What a load of horse-” Your mother coughs and your father shuts his mouth.

“Got plenty of men like me givin’ orders,” Simon digs into his pocket to pull his cigarettes, stopping with his teeth around the filter of one when your mother coughs loudly. He shoves them back into his pocket with a grumbled swear. “Like I told ya earlier, ‘s not the good men that come back.”

“You’re so cool,” Jack tells Simon with wide eyes. Your aunt smacks his arm with the back of her hand, reprimanding. Simon’s eyes narrow.

He watches your aunt the rest of dinner. The conversation drifts as plates are emptied. You attempt to stand to help clear the table, and Simon holds you in your chair. Your mother putters around the table with your aunt, you smile and thank them. You’re almost done. Then you can go home and wait for the flood of texts/calls from your mom.

You can just imagine the way she’ll try to convince you to break off your (fake)engagement. You’ll wait a few weeks before spinning up some story about Simon cheating on you. Your family will be so grateful Simon’s gone they won’t ask any questions.

“Does anyone want pudding or are we going straight to-”

“Presents!” Your youngest cousin cuts your mom off, rushing  to the tree as soon as his plate is cleared. Your aunt grabs him and brings him back to the table only for him to run over again. She manages to pull a gift from his little hands, and bring him screaming back to the table. You wince at the sharp sound, the fat tears rolling down the kid’s chubby cheeks, crying about opening presents. Your aunt reminds him shortly that there’s still dessert to get through. It barely makes a dent in the tears. The kid pulls at his mom’s grip, screaming and kicking. 

Simon’s hand on your thigh tippens its grip. 

You know, you know. It’s never fun sitting around with a kid throwing a tantrum, but you’re sure your aunt will handle it-

There’s a sharp crack as your aunt spanks the kid. Hard.

Simon shoots up from his seat.

Your little cousin’s tears turn to sniffles and a wobbly lip as his mom gives him a hissed warning. 

Your hands shake as Simon stalks around the table to grab your aunt’s hand.

“The one thing you’re not gonna fuckin’ do,” He tells her in a low warning tone, “is hit your fuckin’ kid in front of me.”

It’s so different from the anger he’d had with your father over football. You know that, that was acting, but this… It radiates off of Simon like a miasma, dark seething hatred, anger like you’ve never seen. Your aunt looks at him like she’s seen a ghost. Her eyes are wide and scared, her hand still holding your cousin’s arm squeezes tighter, like the child is her only lifeline. 

“Ow!” The kid whines, the sniffles starting again in full, “Mum that hurts.” 

Simon cocks his head, his own grip tightening.

“Let ‘im go,” Simon presses, his anger as cold as death, “Or I’ll break your arm.”

“Simon,” You don’t know what you’re hoping your voice will add to this, not even sure what you should do, all you know is that you brought Simon into this house which makes him your responsibility.

“He’s alright,” Your aunt tries to assure Simon, “aren’t you sweetie?”

“Mum!” Your cousin whines again. Your aunt lets go of his arm like it’s burned her.

“Now apologize.” Simon demands. Your aunt nods sharply and swallows.

“Mum’s sorry baby,” She directs the comment at your cousin but her eyes are fixed on Simon, watching him like a rabbit watches a wolf. “It was just a little spank.” You think the pleading justification makes it worse with the way Simon’s eye twitches. 

“I ever catch you hittin’ ‘im again-” Your aunt’s eyes dart to you, to the fake rock on your finger, “-and it won’t just be your arm I break.”

Your glance to your mother for- God you don’t even know, help? Maybe? She glares at you like this is your fault. Fair enough. Your uncle seems quicker on the uptake.

“Maybe we take Christmas to go,” He chimes in, “Grab the kid’s gifts, since they seem tired.”

Your mother grabs hold of this lifeline as quickly as she can wrap her head around it.

“Absolutely!” She hurries to the tree to start sorting out gifts, “Oh I didn’t realize they’d be so exhausted, we all know fits are just fits, right Simon?”

“I look like I’m throwin’ a fuckin’ fit?” Simon asks her, his voice still cold.

“You know I’m pretty tired too,” Your aunt agrees.

“I’m not.” Jack chimes in.

“Yes, you are.” His mom hisses.

“And it looks like snow,” Your uncle adds, “so we should go.”

You hardly get a word in before your cousins are rushed out the door, no hug or forced familiarity from your aunt as she and your uncle juggle presents and strapping kids into car seats.

Simon takes one of the armchairs in the living room amidst the chaos, dangling his glass with his fingers on the rim as he glowers at your aunt. Your attempt to help them gather presents is stopped by Simon pulling you down into his lap. You stiffen reflexively to try and leverage some of your weight off of him, and he pulls you to lean against his chest. 

Maybe it’s good you don’t say good-bye. You’re not sure anything you could say would sound sincere with the way you’re perched on your fake fiance. You’ll definitely be hearing about this later.

You’ve never seen anyone in your family leave that fast. Your mother must blame you for this social faux pas with the way she glares at you. She’s not even trying to hide it, seemingly having deemed Simon as unworthy of her usual polite routine. She stops just short of yelling at you in front of him. Must be too afraid of what he’ll do to her if he’s willing to break your aunt’s arm over her kid.

You’re not sure when you lost control of the evening, but you’re ready to go. Your aunt’s exit should be your exit too. You even open your mouth to tell your mother it’s been a lovely evening.

Simon beat you to it.

“Let’s open presents.” You’d almost call it an order with how edged his voice is.

“We don’t have any for you,” Your mother attempts, “it wouldn’t be fair to open them now.”

“Don’t need a present,” Simon assures her, “Bird’ll gimme somethin’ later.” Your mother’s eye twitches. Simon’s hand slides over your thigh, his thumb rubbing gently at the sensitive, clothed, skin. Your nerves must be on high alert to feel his touch so acutely. He gestures with his glass at the tree. “Go’an,” He orders again.

The tension in Simon’s form slowly seeps out of him as your parents shuffle presents out from under the tree. His body, which had previously seemed poised to leap at the slightest provocation, relaxes back against the chair as your mother hands you a present. She smiles at you warmly, almost pitying, when you thank her. Simon’s hand doesn’t leave your thigh, possessive in a way that feels too close to reality. 

“Oh wait,” You tell your mother as she pulls one of the gifts you brought from the pile. You slip from Simon’s lap, and for some reason he lets you, bent at the waist to point to a different box. His hand slides over the swell of your ass with an appreciative hum and you have to stop the tremor in your voice as your blood rushes south. “That one first,” You smile, “otherwise this one won’t make sense.”

The normalcy of it is more welcome than you’d thought. Somehow your usual family Christmas doesn’t seem as tense or fraught with conversational landmines now that Simon’s intruded. If nothing else you suppose he’s given you that. It’s certainly easier talking to your parents when they keep casting nervous glances at Simon to make sure this is an appropriate line of conversation. 

Simon, for his part, does little except keep you in his lap as you tear into the paper wrapped boxes. Occasionally his hand moves from your thigh to squeeze your stomach, or your side, as if he’s checking that you’re still all there. It’s not exactly casual, and the heat that builds between your legs as he drags his callused fingers across your stomach makes you want to squirm back into his chest, just to try and escape the ticklish feeling.

You try to focus on the gifts, drumming up the appropriate amount of excitement to look grateful while all of your attention is on the spread of Simon’s fingers. His hand splays wide against you and you try to trace the outline of it, distract yourself from how big his hand is. 

But distracting yourself from the spread of his hand directs you towards the spread of his legs, to the firm muscle of his thick thighs, to the slight softness of his stomach when your back starts to hurt and you lean against him with less stiff of a spine. Your eyes drift to the window as your mother coos over the knitting supplies and class pass to her favorite craft store. It’s so dark out, the sun already disappeared behind the horizon and the streetlights are doing their best to shine even when the night dims them. You’re already tired.

Your phone buzzes and you check it with a glance.

It’s a weather alert.

You scramble off Simon’s lap only to be dragged back into it.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” He asks, his hands grip your sides, fingers just brushing the edge of your bra. You can’t deal with the way being pulled like this makes your head swim. Fuck, maybe he could just grab you off the street and- NO.

“Simon,” You push at his hands, “problem.” 

“No problem love,” He hums. Lips brush the shell of your ear and you stiffen as heat blooms over your cheeks, “‘Cept you gettin’ up oll the time.” “It’s snowing.” You insist, still pushing at his hands.

Your father looks at you with confusion and glances out the window. It’s hard to see when it’s so dark out. You’re suddenly hit with a grim understanding of why the street lamps seem so dim. Your dad walks to the front door and tugs it open only to be pushed by the gust of cold wind and snow that rushes into the house.

The wind is positively howling.

Your father muscles the door shut and your mother nervously clicks on the TV to check the weather. She doesn’t even help your dad brush all the snow off him, worrying her lip as her eyes fix to the screen. 

“Not gonna be able to drive home in that,” Your father grimaces. Your mother shoots him a look before skirting her eyes around you to watch Simon. You can almost feel his smile.

“You wouldn’t mind us stayin’ ‘ere would ya?”

You flip on the lights in your childhood bedroom. Simon looms behind you. Reasonably you understand why he insisted on staying, even why he insisted on sharing a room. As far as your parents know you’re happily engaged, and as far as you could tell there was a blizzard raging outside. Honestly you’ve never seen anything like it, and if you didn’t know any better you might have blamed Simon for it. 

You have never in your life been more aware of another person’s presence. 

“In you go love,” Simon tells you, pressing you forwards with a hand on the small of your back. You stumble into your room and turn in time to watch Simon close the door. He bends down to unlace his boots and you manage to kick off your shoes in the time it takes him to straighten again. Now that you’re alone you feel on edge. All the casual friendly airs that Simon had been putting on when you’d met him before have done nothing to prepare you for the weight of his full attention. You’re only too happy when he turns to survey the room.

“I can take the floor,” You inform him, already gathering the spare blankets and pillows your mom had set on your twin bed. 

“Sit down,” Simon orders, your ass hits the side of your mattress so fast you haven’t even registered the command before you’ve followed it, “You’re takin’ the bed.”

His tone leaves no room for argument. You suppose it could almost be called kind of him to give you the bed.

“Sorry,” You tell him quietly, mindful of your parents in the next room.

“What’re you actin’ sorry for,” He huffs, “Sweet bird like you doesn’t mind sharin’, does she? Besides,” He knocks your knees apart with a big booted foot, “I still gotta get paid.”

You stare up at him, confusion plain on your face. 

“I thought you just wanted the meal.”

“Meal’s not finished, is it?” He tells you, “Never got dessert.”

“Wha-”

“Take your fuckin’ pants off.” His tone is clipped, short, and deep. It sinks into your skin, prickling goosebumps everywhere he’d touched earlier. Which feels like it must have been, well, everywhere. 

You should say “no.” Literally nothing about this man has given you any indication that he’s someone you should want to get undressed for, and he’s spent the better part of the day tormenting your family. Granted you did ask him to do that, and honestly his efforts do land squarely in the “pros” category, but he’s a little too good at playing a dirt-bag. And this? This just seals the deal on that particular observation.

So you should say “no.”

But the way his big hands had grabbed you, the way his tongue had wound against yours, the way he looks down at you now, hungry, makes you desperately want to do whatever he asks you to. 

“My parents are in the next room,” You whisper, glancing back at the wall that separates the two rooms.

“Who gives a shit?” Simon snorts, “Don’t ‘appy couples celebrate their engagement?” Your eyes flick down to his trousers, the implications aren’t lost on you. He must catch you looking because his hand grabs your hair and tips your head back. “Trust me birdy, I’m tryin’ ta be nice, but if ya wanna choke on it…”

You race to get your trousers open, fingers shaking as you push them down. You don’t need to see his cock to make some leaps of logic that it’s just as big as the rest of him, and if he’s offering you the choice between his mouth on you, and your mouth on him-

Simon leans forward and unceremoniously shoves his hand into your panties, your trousers barely down your thighs. Your train of thought comes to a full halt as big fingers stroke through your folds.

“Atta girl,” He hums, “much ‘appier like this, aren’t ya?” He tugs his fingers free, spreads them in front of your face with a pitying pout at the way your slick glistens on his skin. “Least your cunt knows what’s good for it.”

He pushes your head back, tossing it towards the bed as he releases your hair. Your back hits the mattress and you have to work to keep from hitting your head on the wall. Simon’s fingers find the hem of your panties and drag them down your thighs, catching your trousers to discard the lot on the floor. 

You snap your legs shut against the chill of the room and he growls. 

“None of that now,” He advises, prying your legs apart. His fingers dig into the soft meat of your thighs, his gaze fixed on the wet mess between them. The way he stands over you makes him feel massive, makes the way he leans over you feel looming. 

His hands slide over your ticklish inner thighs and you have to stifle the giggle that threatens to spill from you. You doubt Simon would appreciate your laughter, might even think you’re laughing at him. Again your eyes dart to the hard length straining against his trousers as his thumbs spread your folds.

“Pretty,” He says it so plainly, casually, like he’s judging a toy. It blazes through you, lighting up your nerves and making you shiver. Any other protests you might have had die on your tongue as Simon drops to his knees. 

Seeing him between your legs makes your stomach clench, makes your cunt pulse with desire. One of his thumbs rubs up and down the seam of your cunt while the other keeps you half-spread. He presses his thumb firmly against your clit, the pressure makes your hips squirm, makes you ache for more stimulation. The pressure stops, and his thumb traces its way back to holding you open.

He spits.

You flinch when it hits your spread folds, body vibrating with embarrassed heat as it slides over you. Simon’s eyes follow it the whole way down, and his tongue drags it back up.

Simon’s tongue cards through your folds, warm and wet, and he groans low in his throat. It’s positively sinful the way he pulls his tongue slow and flat over you, like he’s trying to savor the taste. You snap your hand over your mouth, stifling the soft whimper that the attention brings to your lips. 

Simon’s eyes flick to your face and he makes a frustrated noise. You feel his teeth touch your skin just before he bites you. You yelp at the sharp pain, your hand shooting from your mouth to his head in an attempt to push him away. Simon tips his head back to bite at the meat of your palm, his teeth digging into the firm flesh before his tongue licks over it. There’s a sharpness to his teeth, chipped edges that scrape at your skin and ache before he soothes them. 

You don’t want him to bite you again.

You don’t think you do.

Do you?

His tongue rolls over your palm, wetting the dry skin with spit and slick. His mouth has a heady sheen to it that makes you want to drag your tongue over his lips, to clean up the light prickle of his beard with your own mouth.

“No sense lettin’ you breath if you’re not gonna scream for me,” Simon informs you. Your face has never felt hotter than when his teeth scrape down your palm to tease your pulse. You’re too enraptured by the way he moves to let spit drip off his tongue and onto your clit to really register what he said.

His tongue rubs against your clit, working the firm bud back and forth before letting his tongue roll over it. Each hot swipe sends a new shudder of heat and pleasure through your body. You whimper, your wet hand tangling its fingers in his short cropped hair just to feel him shake his head like a dog. 

It’s filthy the way he drags his lips over your folds, sucking and slurping at you like he’s trying to be loud. His stubble scratches at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, prickly and sharp next to the warm wet mouth that sucks at your clit. His tongue keeps twisting over it, keeping it sensitive and tingling before he’s ducking down to fuck the slick muscle into your hole. Simon moves his tongue against the entrance to your cunt like he’s hoping to stretch out the hole with it, circling around the delicate outer edge before pressing inside, over and over until your brain feels like it’ll melt out of your ears. 

Then that wet heat is dragged up to your clit, circled and sucked, licked in broad strokes that wiggle against you just so he can hear the way your voice pitches up in pleasure.

He turns his head to wipe his mouth against your thigh, lips parting to lick a long stripe before he sinks his teeth into the meat of it and sucks. Your own lips close tight around the whimper the dull pain of it pulls from you. 

He muscles your leg up against his shoulder, his arm moving to find a comfortable angle as he hooks his thumb in your fluttering cunt. You blink at the intrusion, the thick digit may as well be two of your own fingers the way he pulls at your entrance and stretches you open. That isn’t what steals your focus from his mouth though, what tugs at you is the way his other thick fingers rub over your ass, spreading your slick and attempting to soften the hole into something pliant.

He’s grabbed your hips to roll you onto your stomach before you can raise a protest to the searching fingers, big strong hands dragging your hips up so your knees settle on the edge of the bed as he stands. It forces your face into the quilts, muffling the noise of surprise that the motion shakes out of you. Again you find protests on your lips, you hadn’t even come, and again they’re snuffed by his fingers.

Two of them push into your cunt and you moan low in your throat at the burning stretch that they provide. Your hips rock back into them, your stomach fluttering with need as more heat courses through you. His fingers crook and he thrusts them down into your cunt, hitting some throbbing tightness that makes you cry out.

Simon makes a low cooing noise in the back of his throat and his fingers stroke against your walls. You turn your head to rest your cheek against the bed, your lips pouting and your lashes fluttering as he gives you just long enough to suck in a breath before his fingers are pressing against that soft aching spot again. Your eyes roll, your breath caught tight in your throat at the thrum of pleasure that tightens like burning heat in your aching cunt.

His fingers pump faster and faster into your cunt, and you cry out, your hips wiggling and your fingers gripping at the quilt. The wet squelching noise that comes from his fingers fucking into you makes an embarrassed heat rush over your skin, and you burry your face in the blankets just to gasp out your moans. Your mouth hangs open, drool dripping off your tongue as your breath stops in your throat. The tight heat between your legs feels like it’s winding its way all the way up through your diaphragm. Your muscles are tensed so tight you think you might snap, and you let out a low moan as your breath finally shakes free. You suck in air between sobs, each punch of his fingers into your cunt pushing a new noise free of your lips.

The wet noises just get wetter.

And then something inside you snaps. Your stomach clenches tight and your cunt follows, spasming around Simon’s fingers as they pump in and out of you. Stars dance across your vision and you bite the quilts to stop from screaming. Something trickles out of you and he rewards your orgasm with a throaty chuckle.

He pulls his fingers from you and rubs soaked fingers over your ass before he’s trying to push one inside.

“Been eyein’ this ass all night.” He hums.

The firm pressure hurts the harder he presses, and you whimper out a sniffled reproach to the feeling, a soft “hurts” that you’re sure will fall on deaf ears. Simon stops, pulls his finger back and slicks it in your cunt again, the feeling of his fingers twisting against your soft spot making your eyes roll. It hurts, an overworked burn that makes you whimper for an entirely different reason.

He pulls his thick fingers from your cunt and you feel the tip of one teasing your ass again. It’s barely a pressure when his finger tries your ass again, and he lets out a slow breath as you’re filled.

“Just sunk right in,” He tells you, pumping his finger in and out, the drag of heat has your lashes fluttering, your head spinning at the deep pressure that makes your cunt clench, “Isn’t that pretty.”

His thumb catches your cunt again, tugging at the slick hole. The click of his belt and rustle of fabric clues you in to what comes next.

That doesn’t mean you’re prepared for how big his cock feels nudging at your entrance. A chill runs over your skin, goosebumps raising to meet the air where your jumper has slid down your back. The blunt head of his cock presses against your hole, and you arch your back into the feeling, desperate to find the right angle for it to slip in. 

Simon doesn’t seem as eager. He pushes into you slowly, lets you feel the way you burn and stretch around him, lets you feel every centimeter of that big cock. You feel tight, even as wet as you are, you feel like you’re squeezing the life out of him. Your cunt is hot and tingling, and your clit throbs with the need to be touched. 

You feel his hips press against your ass, and he grinds into you. Another wave of goosebumps rushes over you at the deep ache he pushes into. You squeeze your eyes shut just to stop the way they keep trying to roll back in your head.

Simon pulls back, and you can almost feel the drag of his head against your walls. He grinds the tip against the soft spot near your entrance before punching his cock back into you. You make a choked noise before your throat seems to open and a flood of moans and pleas flows from you. Each push of his cock into you pitches your voice up and you moan in desperate panting sounds.

You ache. You’ve never felt so full. He hasn’t taken his finger from your ass, instead he presses it down to try and feel his own cock stretching out your walls. You shove a hand between your legs to try and stroke your clit only to feel the stretch of your skin around his fat cock. You’re so wet that your fingers slip over your folds, uncoordinated, and you can’t get a good angle. You open your mouth but can’t find the words to ask for what you need.

One of his thrusts pushes you up the bed and your hand moves immediately to push against the wall with a ‘thump.’ 

“Simon,” You whine, “Simon.”

His free hand pets up your spine, bunching your jumper up under your armpits to unhook your bra, before finding its way to your hair. He curls his fingers and finds a tight grip near your scalp. The bite of pain makes you want to push back into him. The deep pressure, the slight sting, from your ass makes your body stutter, your brain crashing into itself.

Oh God.

“Not a thought in that pretty little ‘ead is there?” He asks, the fingers gripping your hair tight pull your head back, you moan your pleasure for him as he gives a hard thrust into you, your bleary eyes opened just enough to focus on the white wall. “Course not,” Simon grunts, a huff of laughter edging his voice, “Wouldn't've responded to my ad if there was.” 

You reach back to claw at his thigh and find it still, painfully, clothed. A burst of humiliation shoots through you at the thought that Simon hasn’t even bothered to get undressed. 

“Stupid thing, really could’ve just grabbed ya off the street.” He mumbles, there’s a touch of fondness to his voice, a smile that doesn’t feel appropriate for the way he fucks into you. Like he’s trying to teach you a lesson.

The only thing you’re learning is that Simon’s cock hits something deep and needy inside of you. The finger in your ass starts to pull out and you scream. Simon groans as you tighten around him, your cunt desperate to keep his cock inside. You’re buzzing with your orgasm, settled right at the edge with nothing to push you over the edge. There’s too much stimulation. His cock pistoning into you and his finger starting to tug at your ass. You’re still sore from his fingers but you can’t stop yourself from clenching tight around him.

“Mad fer it,” Simon chuckles, “tell me what ya need bird.”

“Clit- clit,” You stutter out, still barely able to keep the words straight in your head. 

“Louder love,” He teases, “don’t think I heard ya.”

“Please,” You sob, your moans still tearing from your chest on each thrust, “touch my clit.”

He drops your head back down onto the bed, and you muffle your noise with the quilt clenched between your teeth. His finger pulls from your ass and you scream your pleasure into the bed. It’s so hot, your ass burning with something that isn’t entirely painful. It just makes your clit pulse harder. 

Simon’s fingers find their way between your legs and he pinches your clit between them. One roll of the tight bud between them has your legs shaking. The second has tears brimming at your lash line and your mouth hanging open as you flutter and drip on Simon’s cock. You tense and release around him, your orgasm crashing into you like a train. Waves of it rush through you, shaking your muscles loose until you’re laid like a doll against the bed. Your skin is burning and you ache,

And Simon keeps fucking you.

The smack of his hips against yours fills the room, his breath heavy and his fingers now tight on your waist. You push back into his thrusts and it makes stars dance across your vision. That deep aching part of you makes everything draw tight again. 

Simon’s thrusts grow quicker, rougher, his fingers grip you so tight it hurts. You scream for him again, his hard thrusts pushing you to the edge a third time. The blistering heat of his come hits your overworked cunt and you moan. 

“Too much,” You whine. Everything is sore when he pulls out. You don’t think you can move.

Your knees slip off the edge of the bed and you just lay there.

Simon rolls you back onto your back, and manhandles you into laying on the bed properly. 

You sit up just enough to tug your jumper off and toss your bra to the floor with the rest of your clothes. Simon ditches his shirt and you sleepily take in the cut musculature of his chest as he wanders to turn off the light.

You pass out before he ever gets his pants off.

*

Your parents have already gathered the presents from last night by the front door when you wander downstairs in the morning. Your father doesn’t look at you, but your mother positively glowers. You try not to think about how loud you’d been last night.

Simon’s had his hands on you since you woke up. His fingers splay wide on the small of your back, as your parents attempt to rush you out the door. 

You’re settled in Simon’s car, driving down the street when you finally let the laughter take over. You giggle and snort, pressing your fingers against your mouth to try and stem the flow of them. But really, what can you do? Despite being forced to spend the night putting a dent in your plans it’s worked out perfectly. Your parents won’t be asking about you getting a boyfriend any time soon.

If you’re lucky your mom will never ask you about your relationship status again, even when you “break up” with Simon.

You’re still giggling, glowing with happiness at a successfully executed plan, when you try to pull the ring off your finger.

Something sharp digs into your skin and you yelp in pain. 

“What the fuck?” You question, whimpering when you pull harder and it only sends the sharp bit further into your skin. You raise your hand to look at the ring, and find a sharp tooth just under the diamond, clearly a feature not a bug. Still you glance at Simon. “I think this ring is defective,” You tell him, “It keeps stabbing me.”

Simon hums, turning right down a street. 

“Then stop tryin’ ta take it off.” He advises. You twist the ring around your finger, trying to find  a way to work it off.

“I can’t get it off,” You grunt in annoyance.

“Not suppose ta,” Simon tells you plainly, taking another turn, “That’s how bein’ engaged works.”

Something squirms in your stomach.

“We’re not engaged.” You remind him.

“Wearing my ring,” He reminds you, like he’s explaining it to a child, “said ‘yes’ to my proposal-” A smile splits his face, predatory in a way that makes you press your legs together, “-probably still buzzin’ for my cock too. Sounds engaged to me.”

You balk, your mouth hung open as you gape at him. Is he insane?

Simon doesn’t even look at you, just reaches to the side and presses against the underside of your chin with gentle, firm fingers, closing your mouth. Then he leans past you to open the glove compartment and tug a crumple of papers out onto your lap.

“If ya get bored you can look over those.” He tells you, flicking on his signal to hop on the highway.

You glance down at the mess of papers settled on your thighs, a mass of text and fine print that your eyes can’t focus on because they’re so shaken by the two poised at the top:

“Marriage License.”

divider by @/saradika-graphics

[neo-nomatrix]

HAWK TUAH !

jjk men during a bl0w!e

MULTIPLE X READER

-> GOJO, SUKUNA, CHOSO, GETO, NANAMI, TOJI

cw: bj stuff. cum play (kinda idk) rough characters. dirty talk. degradation. choking

GOJO SATORU AKA HEAD PUSHER

Soooo needy it’s insane. He’s so desperate to feel every inch of your soft warm mouth. he promises to let you do your thing but as soon as you wrap your lips around the tip his hands fly to your head and his hips snap. he’s muttering apologize as he pushes you down until your nose touches his skin. he throws his head back and moans open mouthed like a slut.

he’ll get so caught up in the moment he keep you down there for like 30 seconds just grinding his hips into your mouth. let’s you up when you pinch his thigh. you will be coughing and your face will be covered in spit by the end. he lovess facials and always rubs the cum in using his tip. he keeps a photo of you with his cock on your face and cum in your mouth as his wallpaper.

“s-shit baby… deeper, little more”

“you can take it, i know you can baby”

“just make me feel good okay?”

RYOMEN SUKUNA AKA THROAT DESTROYER

uhm yeah… what did you expect. does not give a shit about you when his cock is in your mouth. keeps you at the edge of the bed with your head hanging off and his fucking your mouth like a fleshlight. goes so deep his cock is showing in your throat. your gags make him want to go another round. plugs your nose when you’re deep throating so you can’t breath.

“until my jaw locks” yeah he took that as a challenge. loves tying you up with a low vibrator on your clit while he fucks that mouth as torture. you honestly don’t know if you love it or hate it. Sukuna loves it though, that’s for sure. cums deep in your throat, every time. will face fuck you again if he sees you didn’t swallow it all.

“fuck gag on that dick, bitch”

“i can see my cock in your throat! but who’s surprised?”

“you better swallow my seed… it’ll probably reach your stomach with how deep i am”

CHOSO KAMO AKA WHINY B!TCH

again, who’s surprised. he thought handjobs were great… but this? whole different level. you start but sucking on the tip until he’s sensitive. then you lick stripes up and down his veins. you use soo much spit and he loves it. he loves it when you press kisses to his cock and then deep throat it.

hes mesmerized by the way your head moves, the way your lips look. he has to force himself to not throw his head back so he can see you. one time he got ahead of himself and snapped his hips up and you choked on him, best day of his life. when he found out your throat felt like that? no going back. he begs you to deep throat him all the time.

“more… more more more. please baby!”

“remember how good i eat you out? please treat me good”

“i know it’s too deep! im sorry i can’t stop baby”

SUGURU GETO AKA NICE N SLOW

just into good old fashioned blowjobs. your hand kept at the base and your lips move up and down his shaft. he wants your tongue swirling over it like a lollipop. he brushes your hair out of your face to see your expressions. he’s so gentle and nice when it comes to blowjobs.

let’s you grind on his leg while you suck him off. mostly uses it as foreplay and not a main way to get off. likes for your spit to act as lube for him to slide in. if he was gonna cum from a bj it would be on your tits. he loves that.

“fuck keep that up and i’ll cum”

“let it get hard in your mouth… that’s right”

“don’t give me those innocent eyes, slut”

NANAMI KENTO AKA UNDER THE DESK

oh you’ll support your working man, from under the desk. he’s so stressed about work these days and you have just the solution! you showed up to his home office in skimpy lingerie and without saying a word you crawl under his desk and get to work. he gets so flustered so fast, blushing and stuttering about how his report is due.

grips the chair so tight when you start working your magic. he doesn’t want to thrust up because he knows he’ll bruise your throat. uses his belt to wrap around your neck and guide you instead. pulls your hair an insane amount. cums in your mouth but likes to watch it pour out onto your body.

“i’m working baby… you’ll get me too distracted”

“wrap that belt around your neck, be a good assistant”

“is this you saying thank you for being my sugar daddy?”

TOJI FUSHIGURO AKA TWO HANDS

he’s so big you need to use your hands or else he might pop out on the other side of your neck. you’re moving your hands and your mouth at a similar pace. he definitely teaches you how he wants it. he guides your head to a good rhythm and then lets you do your thing.

maybe he’ll have a cigarette hanging out his mouth when you suck it. blowing smoke in your face to tease you. definitely makes fun of the fact that you can’t take all of him. your jaw has to be open so wide to get him in. cums everywhere, your face, throat, tits. doesn’t matter, if it’s you he’ll cum there.

“don’t just move your hands up and down baby, turn em”

“your face looks so fucking small next to my dick!”

“c’mon, try harder to take it or else i’ll force you to”

[rafesweetie]

sometimes prissy!reader has a bit of an attitude … it’s safe to say season 1 rafe doesn’t tolerate it.

your wispy eyelashes almost touch your eyebrows as you roll your eyes at your boyfriend, who was telling you that there was still another two whole hours of the golf game left.

it wasn’t your fault, the weather was beating down on you and making your soft skin sweat, your thighs were so hot that they were sticking to the seat in the golf cart, and you ran out of water and beer an hour ago, and the cart girl was no where to be seen. you were promised a comfortable and relaxing day, and instead you’re hot and bored.

rafe’s lip curls up in annoyance at your eyeroll, and he scoffs and walks away, leaving you pouting in the cart. he’s trying to enjoy the day, there’s no way that he’s letting his prissy girlfriend spoil the fun by needing his constant attention.

fanning at yourself when the sun blares down on you, you’re truly putting on a show for rafe, exaggerating so he can take you home. even with his baseball cap that he stuck on your head at your third complaint, and the last sip of his beer that he gave you half an hour ago, you’re still not satisfied. he’s starting to think you’re never satisfied.

“rafe, do you have any sunscreen? i think i’m getting burnt,” you call out after he swings the golf club.

“you think i pack fuckin’ sunscreen? not my fault you’re wearing a tube top, little shoulders bound to get burnt,” he steps back to let topper take his shot. “top, you got any for my girl?”

“nah, man, never pack that shit,” topper answers. rafe can hear you groan from your seat, and usually you’re at least saying ‘thank you’ for checking, but you’re so bored that you’re beyond sweetness.

“do you guys have, like, anything? this is so boring,” you complain from the cart.

topper asks, “did you bring your phone?” and you tell him it died.

rafe’s frankly done with your subtle tantrum, stomping over to you, swinging the club in circles as he walks. if your brain wasn’t so foggy from the heat then you’d admire how his arms look in that polo top, but you can barely even think.

“how about you keep score? hm, kid, how does that sound?” he offers, handing you the scorecard.

“that’s boring, i don’t even know how golf works, don’t know how to do this,” you complain. “rafe, i just wanna walk home, i’m done with this, so boring,”

“all i’m asking is for you to keep score.”

“i don’t have a pen.”

“use your lipliner,”

your lip curls in distaste, a habit picked up from your boyfriend. “that’s stupid, its like, $40,”

“hey,” he scolds. “don’t know where this little attitude came from but it stops now, okay? shit, babe, just trying to enjoy the game. you wanna, uh, you wanna walk home? that what this is? is that what you’ve come to?”

“are you dumb? i’m in heels—“ he cuts you off instantly, not liking your insinuation one bit.

“hey! hey—“ you expect him to grab your jaw or wrist but he grabs your nipple through your shirt, tugging at it so you’re dragged closer to him.

“don’t speak to me like that, a’ight? not fair to me. tried to bring you out here for a fun day, don’t need the fucking insults. say something nice to me or don’t say shit at all. or i can bring you home right now and give you some shit, and i promise you you won’t like it. sit in the cart, keep score, be nice. can you do that?” he continues. you nod, and he pinches your nipple harshly, making you squeak, then lets go.

you watch rafe’s vieny hand adjust your top after that, then watch as it moves up to your cheek. he pats it, gives you a nod with some pretty harsh eye contact, then leaves.

he always knows how to shut you up.

[luveline]

Hi idk if u have already written this if u have pls igonore but what about the first time bombshell reader calls Spencer beautiful?

fem, 1k

“Gideon has a new prodigy.” 

Your head rises of its own accord. “Yeah?” 

“He's younger than you. Twenty three, I think Hotch said. Fresh out of college, two degrees and working on a third? Or maybe he was getting his doctorate? I couldn't keep up.” Morgan shakes his head in disapproval. “Overeducated and under-experienced. He failed his physicals. The ones he took, anyways.” 

“Ooh, ouch. A baby on the team before me,” you joke with a smile. “Genius baby, but a baby.” 

Morgan smiles when you smile, he's too nice not to, but he picks up soon enough, crossing his arms where he's stood and wrinkling what was once a finely steamed suit jacket. “I don't know what Gideon's thinking.” 

“Does anyone ever know what he's thinking? What's Hotch say about it all?” 

Morgan reads what you're typing from over your shoulder and corrects a mistake. One day you won't need his help, but for now you take as much of it as you can get. You're not too proud to acknowledge when you mess up, you're a realist. Super sensible (in mind if not action). 

“Hotch lets Gideon do what he wants, mostly. What can you do when he's one of the originals?” Morgan leans heavily onto his desk by the forearms and shrugs. You’re similar in this regard; complain, move on. You're similar in other ways, too. That's why you get along. 

“Well, I want to meet this guy,” you say. “We'll be teammates just as soon as Strauss stops hating me. I'm one strategic boxed bouquet from a full pardon.” He laughs and touches your arm like he believes you. “Is he around?” 

“Here they are now.” 

You spin in Morgan's desk chair slowly. Jason Gideon is stalking through the office with his head in the contents of a manilla envelope, while a new face follows behind him talking a mile a minute. 

“Obviously,” you hear Gideon interrupt as they get close enough. “Agent Morgan can explain that to you. Don't overthink it, Spencer, just try to get through it.” 

He doesn't acknowledge you nor Morgan as he leaves Spencer and hurries up the steps leading to his and Hotch's offices. You aren't expecting much else from him. What little Gideon knows about you he doesn't like. If you ever get over the Strauss hurdle, it's him you'd have to convince next. You don't watch him cross the landing, your gaze focused on the man making his timid way toward you. Your lips part briefly, and then quirk into an overjoyed smile. 

“Oh, you're beautiful,” you say without thinking. 

He frowns at you. 

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, “This is Y/N L/N. She works in the sex crimes division. As you can imagine, we get a lot of crossover.” You stand, holding out your hand. “Y/N, this is Spencer Reid.” 

“I don't shake. Sorry.” 

You press your hand to your chest. “Oh, that's okay. I shouldn't assume…” Your voice melds into a silkiness that has his shapely brows furrowing further, “It's nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. You're really pretty, do you know that?” 

Spencer peeks at Morgan quickly, who laughs good-naturedly. “She's serious, Reid. She's not making fun of you.” 

“You'd know,” Spencer says. It isn't malicious, but it isn't exactly friendly, either.

You twist to frown at Morgan deeply. “Morgan, you're not being nice to him?” 

“I'm being plenty nice, sweetheart, but this is how it works. I gotta haze him a little.” 

“No, you don't.” You tip your cheek toward your shoulder to look at Spencer through your lashes. “He pretends to be worse than he is, I promise. But don't let him neg you, okay? You're smarter than he is–” 

“Hey.” 

“–and he's used to being the office pretty boy. It's jealousy, nothing else,” you finish. Spencer really is gorgeous now you're close enough to see his eyes. A brown like caramelised sugar tented by dark, dark eyelashes. When he smiles, the very slightest hint of teeth shows, and it makes him even prettier. You endeavour to make him smile again. “Sorry if I'm coming off a little strong. It's not my intention.” 

“She's just nervous. You have everything she wants,” Morgan says. 

You sigh forlornly. “Oh, doesn't he?” Spencer's confused pout is even cuter than his smile. “Getting into the BAU is about as easy as walking on water.” 

“For a human,” Spencer says. “Easier if you're smaller. Like a water strider.” 

There's a silence. Morgan is aghast, you think. You're in love. 

“Yeah?” you ask, stars in your eyes as his own spark to life. 

“Because water strider's can transfer their weight, but also due to their hydrofuge hairpiles. Their microhairs.” He catches himself, measuring your expression carefully. “Did you really wanna know?” 

“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee and tell me about it?” you ask. 

His lips part as yours had when you first saw him. 

He's prevented from answering as Hotch's office door opens and the man himself walks out near the railing. “Good, you’re here. I have something to talk to you about.” 

You grin at him. “I'd love to chat, Agent Hotchner, but I'm getting to know your new protégé.”

“I see.” He waits. 

You would ignore him —Hotch has a soft spot for you (or rather, he likes you enough to put up with you, which is more than can be said about other members of his division) and he'd shrug off your dismissal— but you're really keen to hear what he has to say. Perhaps Strauss has changed her mind about your proposed trail basis with the team. 

“I'm so sorry,” you say to Spencer, immediately re-dazzled by his pretty, lovely face. “It was really nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. Maybe next time you can tell me more about it.” 

You give Morgan a quick thank you for the help with your paperwork and trust him to log out of your emails. In your rush up the stairs, you hear a wisp of conversation. 

“Was she messing with me?” 

Morgan laughs. “No, kid. That's how she is.” 

"Oh... She's nice."

"You have no idea."

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Private Session

Part one, Part Two , Part Three

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases.

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe does coke), Rafe's an ass, choking, p in v, unprotected sex, bondage, language, slight degradation, slight praise, oral (both m and f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. UGH I need him so bad. But anyways, this fic is NOT fully proofread for errors, and I was a little fried while writing this and it's literally almost 3 am right now, but I wanted to get this posted. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!

I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!

Credits: GIF from this post

You don’t hate your job, but it’s definitely not the most respected profession out there. You can’t really hate the one thing that makes you money, pretty damn good money too. What can you say, you’re good at your job. You do however hate the assholes who come in nearly every night just to get on your nerves, well more like asshole. 

Rafe Cameron loves to come in and watch you. He’ll stare for hours, just admiring you. Sometimes he’s with a few other guys from figure eight, but usually comes in alone. Honestly it’s when he comes in alone that he’s really bad. Since he can direct all his focus on you shamelessly. Rafe’s especially awnry when Barry, your boss, comes to hang out with him. Your boss is normally quite fair when it comes to his dancers; always making sure they’re not being mistreated by customers. But Rafe? Rafe has a free pass to do whatever the hell he wants to whoever. And unluckily for you, you seem to be the only one of Barry’s girls that he’s interested in. He never does so much as look at any of the other dancers when you’re around, he only cares about you. You thought it was flattering at first, but now it’s just weird.

When you see him come in tonight you sigh, still keeping up your performance on stage. God, it’s definitely going to be a long night. You’ve already had enough crap for the day, now for Rafe Cameron to waltz into the club when you’re only halfway through your shift, this is just great. God must really have it out for you.

Rafe hadn’t known you were working tonight, so he’s pleasantly surprised when he sees you on your stage as he walks to the back room to find Barry. Once he disappears into the back room with Barry, you forget about him and continue on with your routine per usual. 

A while later, you see Rafe finally emerging from the back room, making his way back through the crowd of horny, drunk men and topless women. You see him shove a small bag into his pocket as he walks into view. His demeanor is different now; even cockier than before, if that’s possible. And his eyes are bloodshot, pupils extremely dilated. 

Just keep walking. You think to yourself as you collect bills from your stage floor. Just keep walking.

But of course, Rafe stops near the front end of your stage, taking a seat. He gets comfortable, slouching back in his chair, his legs spread wide and his arms crossed over his chest as he stares up at you.

You try not to let your annoyance show as you continue dancing. Rafe watches you silently; occasionally tossing $1’s and $5’s onto the stage; only sticking to the small bills for now. Not because he’s cheap, but because he likes to take his time; build it up over time. He only throws a few at a time, so he can watch you bend over and pick up the cash however many times he wants.

You lean down to pick up the newest bills he just tossed down for you. You look at him, flashing him a flirty smile as you do with all paying customers. He shoves his wallet back into his jeans and looks up, making eye contact with you. He flashes a smirk that’s almost…charming? But, you know better than to fall for that. No matter how pretty he is, you know better.

A bit later, you take a short break from the pole to make your rounds around the club and see if you have any customers interested in your services. You hate it when it’s busy. Well, stripper you loves it when it’s busy because it means more money. But you, you hate the loud crowds of drunken perverts and frat boys; you felt so exposed. Which, you should because you’re hardly wearing anything. But, you just feel too vulnerable. You liked the calmer nights when the crowd was smaller; you feel more in control that way. And fuck is it packed tonight. You can barely move through the people, and you can hardly hear anything besides the loud music and obnoxious cat calls. This is why you don’t usually work on saturday nights; you’re just doing one of the other girls a favor and covering her shift. 

Accidentally, you bump your shoulder into somebody while on your way back to the stage. You don’t think anything of it and just keep walking until you feel a hand on your wrist. Immediately you turn back, pulling your wrist away. You’re not surprised to find that it was Rafe you had bumped into you. 

“Hey, y’think I can get a private show?” He asks, his emotions unclear as he steps closer so he can hear you. 

“Sorry sir, no rooms are available.” You say with a sensual laugh and a bright smile, no matter how badly you want to just roll your eyes and walk away. But you can’t. You must remain professional. Rafe bites his lip, taking yet another step closer. He leans in to whisper into your ear. 

“That’s not what I mean.” He keeps his mouth next to your ear.” You can hear his breathing as you think of a response. 

“Can’t, sorry. I don’t do that, I’m not a fucking hooker.” You bite back, beginning to walk away again.

But Rafe quickly retorts, “doesn’t matter, both mean you’re just a fucking slut. Fuckin’ whore.” He spits. He tries to grab your wrist again and fails, grabbing your hand instead. He lets out a jagged breath, tugging you closer. “Come on. I’ll give you one thousand for two hours.” You’re shocked at his generosity, but like you said, you’re not a hooker. You don’t sell that part of you. Especially not to this asshole. 

You don’t get the chance to respond before Barry is walking over to the two of you. “There a problem?” You sigh a breath of relief when Rafe drops your hand. But when you look at Barry, you realize he’s not asking you.

“Yeah, this fuckin’ bitch don’t know how to listen.” Rafe gestures to you.

Barry nods, taking in Rafe’s words. He steps over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and leading you a few steps away to talk to you. “What's he want?” Your boss asks, trying to gauge the situation. It doesn’t help that he’s also been doing some lines in the back room.

“He wants to take me home. I told him I’m not a hooker.” You explain, hoping he’ll side with you.

“Well maybe for tonight you are. You know why that is, sweetheart?”

You look down as you speak. “‘Cause we listen to what Mr. Cameron says.” You recite his rule. 

“One night, just go with him. I bet he’ll pay big.” Barry pleads, not really giving you much option. 

You argue, “Yeah, and you’re just gonna take 50%.” 

“How ‘bout this. You listenin’?” You nod, looking up at him as he speaks. “You do this, you get to keep 75%.”

You think for a moment before responding. “Seventy-five percent of all my earnings.” You demand, causing Barry to chuckle. 

Barry knows you’re stubborn, and he knows he can’t legally force you to go with Rafe. So hesitantly, he gives in and accepts your deal. “Fine, fine ‘aight, seventy-five percent of everything you make.” 

You reach out to shake his hand. He holds onto it for a moment longer than is necessary, looking into your eyes, smiling a grimy smile; his gold tooth shining as the low club lighting hits it just right. “Now go get to fuckin’”, he laughs, letting go of your hand. You roll your eyes and as you turn your back to him he gives you a slight nudge back towards Rafe’s direction. 

Re-approaching Rafe, you compose yourself. “One thousand for one hour.” You negotiate, your expression making it clear that you won’t be taking no for an answer. You know he has the money, and he’s clearly willing to spend it on you.

Rafe takes his bottom lip in between his teeth, attempting to contain his amused smile. “That wasn’t the deal.” He takes a step towards you. Your demanding expression doesn’t falter as you continue to stare at him silently. He huffs out a chuckle, nodding his head and licking his bottom lip. “Okay, fine. One thousand for one hour of your time. But, anything that goes over an hour is free. And trust me, you’re gonna be begging for more.” 

“Right, sure I will.” You say sarcastically.

Rafe ignores your words. “So do we have a deal?”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Deal.”

Rafe wastes no time in taking your hand, leading you to the back room. You pass by the private rooms, seeing that one had opened up. You stop walking, making Rafe look back at you with a confused expression, waiting for your reason.

“There’s a room open…” You speak, looking over at the open door.

“I already told you, not here. That’s not what I’m paying for.” Rafe turns, pulling you behind him. He leads you into the back room, waiting for you to get your stuff from your locker. You slip some clothes over your lingerie, not wanting to go outside nearly naked. After grabbing your bag, you follow Rafe out the back door and to his truck. 

His demeanor seems to be more neutral now, rather than being plain mean. Nervously on the drive over to figure eight, you spew out words. “I don’t usually do this.” You say, looking over at Rafe. Rafe doesn’t bother looking at you, he just stares straight out at the road in front of him. You can tell he doesn’t believe you. “Really. I never go home with random guys like this. I never even have se–”. You cut yourself off, already having spilt too much. You curse yourself. 

When you’re working, you can keep a strong, dominant attitude and be more confident because it’s all just a part of your character. You can be anyone on stage, you don’t have to be yourself. But as soon as you’re outside of the club, you’re just an anxious fucking mess. Which probably has to do with why you hardly have a sex life. 

Rafe looks over to you, occasionally glancing back out at the road. His expression almost makes it seem like he’s actually listening to you; like he cares. You shake that thought out of your head and try to remind yourself that he doesn’t care about what you’re saying, he’s just paying you for sex. 

“Wait, so you’re saying that you’re a stripper and a virgin?” He asks, his eyes narrow with confusion, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You laugh. “No! I never said I was a virgin.” You explain.

Rafe smiles when he hears you laugh, not being able to keep his eyes off of your beautiful smile. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you laugh before. A real laugh, not the fake, flirty ones you flash to the guys at the club while working. It’s one of the sweetest sounds he’s ever heard.

“So, what then?” He genuinely asks. You’re shocked with the amount of effort he seems to be putting into this conversation, you never took him for much of a talker. 

“I don’t know…I just don’t get many chances I guess.” You say honestly, unsure why you’re sharing this with him of all people. You hate him.

“Bullshit.” Adds Rafe. “You’re a stripper.”

“Okay yeah, I’m a stripper, but that’s ‘cause I need the money. I don’t go home with the guys from the club, well…usually.” You pause for a moment. “...that’s just my job. Outside of the club I get to be myself…and I don’t know, it’s just different.”

“You’re afraid people won’t like who you really are?” His words take you by surprise, making your words get stuck in your throat.

You eventually manage to choke out a response. “Yeah, I…I guess so.” Rafe just nods. Not wanting to admit it, but he gets what you mean. You both sit in a comfortable silence the rest of the way to his place.

Arriving at Tanneyhill, Rafe parks the truck in his driveway and he quickly hops out, rounding the front of the truck and opening your door, allowing you to step out. He leads you up to the front door, grabbing his keys from his pocket and unlocking it, following you inside before shutting the door behind you two. 

You take a few steps down the hall, observing the room around you. Now that you’re seeing his home, you wish you tried to get even more money out of him. “C’mon”, he mumbles from behind you. Rafe grabs your duffel bag from you and walks in front of you, leading you upstairs to his bedroom. He sets the bag on a small couch in his room, turning around to look at you. He looks you up and down, admiring your body. His skin crawls with anticipation of what’s to come. He’s finally gonna get to do all the things he’s been dying to do to you since the first time he saw you at the club.

Rafe moves to sit on the bed, patting his lap without saying another word. You know what he wants. Slowly you make your way over to him, straddling his lap so that you’re facing him; your knees on the bed on either side of his legs. For a brief moment, you both stare at each other, getting momentarily lost in one another’s eyes. 

Carefully he places his hand on your face, cupping your jaw. His movements are slow and calculated as he leans in, enveloping your lips with his own. The kiss is slow and tender, everything you weren’t expecting. 

You pull back just enough to look over at the clock on his nightstand, noting the time in your head. You breathlessly mutter to him, “your hour starts now.” You can see him staring at your lips and without warning he leans in, kissing you. This time, he’s not being so gentle. 

Things escalate quickly; clearly he doesn’t want to waste any time with you. Rafe stands up, holding you while not breaking the kiss, he turns the two of you around and lays you on your back, crawling over you. His lips leave yours as he starts to kiss and suck at your neck, eventually finding your ear. Rafe takes your ear between his teeth, gently nipping at it. The feeling of his teeth grazing your skin sends a chill throughout your body. 

He gently whispers, “I’m gonna do what I want, but you just tell me if it’s too much, alright? Let me know if you want me to stop.” He presses a soft kiss to your ear as you nod.

“Mhm.” You mumble, acknowledging his words.

“No.” He shakes his head, “Say it.”

You oblige, looking at him as you speak. “I’ll tell you to stop if I need to.”

Rafe smirks. “Good girl.” He wastes no time before his lips come crashing onto yours again; somehow even more passionately than the last. 

A soft moan escapes your lips, only making him get even rougher. He kisses you sloppily, his tongue making sure to explore every bit of your mouth. He hovers over you, one hand pressing into the mattress beside your head, holding himself up. And with his free hand, he begins to slide off your shirt. 

You try to help him get you out of your shirt by maneuvering yourself around as best you can underneath him. Once your shirt is off, very little is left to the imagination in your work top, which is just a very lacy piece of lingerie. His hand then works at the button on your shorts, once he’s got that undone he starts tugging them off of you, tossing it to his floor. Once you’re in your little work ‘outfit’, he takes a moment to admire you up close. 

He’s seen you in skimpy little things like this before, he needs to see the rest of you; all of you. He starts to try and get you out of your lingerie, but there’s too many straps and clips, he can’t get you out of it quick enough. He starts to get frustrated, pausing your kiss as he leans back trying to get a good look at what he’s working with. Rafe’s impatience gets to him and he mumbles a quick “fuck this” just before ripping the thin fabric right off of you. 

You let out an involuntary gasp, causing him to look at your face which has an annoyed expression. This was one of your new outfits for work and he just ruined it. 

He leans in and presses a soft, wet kiss to your slightly parted lips. “Calm down, I’ll pay for it.” You don’t get a change to respond before he’s pulling the damaged fabric off of you, tossing it onto the floor as well. “Fuuckk, baby.” He mutters, running his free hand down your bare skin, tracing the shape of you as he admires your bare body. “Oh my god,” he whispers, almost inaudibly. “So fucking beautiful.” His mouth finds your chest, immediately latching onto one of your nipples; he sucks at it until he eventually pulls off to give attention to your other breast. His eyes are trained up on you, watching as your head tilts back in pleasure. 

Rafe pulls his mouth off with a pop! He stands up from the bed, walking over to his dresser. He opens up the top drawer, taking something out and coming back to you. You see a bundle of rope in his hands, your eyes widen in surprise. You hadn’t expected to be into all that. He really had this planned out. Your excitement builds; the wetness between your legs growing. Rafe sees the thoughts going on in your head.

He tries to reassure you, “relax, it’s fine, m’gonna take real good care of you baby.” He instructs you to scoot up towards the headboard of his bed. Quickly and skillfully, he ties your wrists to the bed, making sure it’s not tight enough to cause pain and not loose enough for you to slip out. You’re not sure how you feel about being tied up and against your will, it definitely leaves you very vulnerable; very out of control. However, for some reason you feel like you can almost trust him. Because so far, since leaving the club, he’s been very tentative and reassuring, even gentle at times. Which is not at all what you had expected from Rafe Cameron. 

Soon, his mouth is on you, his tongue lapping up your arousal. You struggle against your restraints, feeling like you need to grip onto something. Your hips try to run from him, only causing him to grab ahold of your thighs, keeping you in place. 

“F-fuuck…” You whine.

Rafe mumbles against your cunt and you can feel the vibrations in your core. As his tongue fucks you ruthlessly, you find it hard to keep quiet, a sea of moans escaping from your lips.

“Feel good, hm? You like that?” You pout at the loss of his mouth on you, causing him to chuckle before resuming his actions. His tongue circles your clit, only stopping to suck on it. The heat is building in your lower stomach, almost getting unbearable.

“Ohhh…shitshitshitshitshit” You almost scream. “Fuck! Oh fuck Rafe. Please, please don’t…don’t stop.” Rafe pulls back, “told you you’d be begging.” Your hips buck up, chasing after his mouth, missing the feeling of his tongue. But ultimately, Rafe obeys, his mouth continuing its ministations on you. He adds a finger to the mix, slowly tracing up and down your entrance as he sucks at your clit. He slides his long digit inside of you without warning, thrusting it in and out, curling it up to hit the spongy spot deep inside you. “Fuck,” You cry. “I…fuck. G-gonna cum, Rafe!” Your wrists tug against the rope; hurting just a bit, making you whimper in pain. Though you’re distracted by the feeling of your orgasm creeping in. 

Rafe hears your cry and he can tell it’s different from your other moans. His head snaps up from between your legs, making you miss his warm, wet mouth on you. He continues his earlier actions, adding a second finger in you, trying to stretch you out as much as he can; to prepare you for him. Your legs wrap around his head as the barrier in your stomach finally breaks, letting your excruciatingly good orgasm wash over you.

He slowly works you down from your high, pulling his fingers out from you, making you squeeze around nothing, your body hating the absence of him. His tongue continues to lap up all your juices. Then he begins to kiss his way back up your body. When he meets your lips, he kisses you tenderly again, letting you taste yourself on his lips. While kissing you, his hands work on freeing your wrists. He sees the red marks they had left, feeling proud yet also feeling a bit bad for causing you pain. “You did so good…” He praises.

You tug his shirt up over his head and run your hands down his toned chest, still attempting to catch your breath from earlier. Then you work at his belt, tossing it aside and pulling off his pants, also tossing them aside. Now that he’s left in just his boxers, you sit up. You get Rafe to lay down where you had been. Using the same rope to tie his wrists to the bed; though you’re not too confident in your knot-tying abilities and you’re unsure if it’ll be able to contain him. 

“W-what are you doing?” He asks almost nervously. Rafe hadn’t been expecting for you to take charge of him, usually that doesn’t happen to him. He pulls against his restraints a bit, quickly finding out the pain that comes with. 

“Shh…relax, it’s fine.” You recite to him. He smirks, recognizing his own words.

“Fuckin’ brat.” He spits, trying to seem upset, although he really just thinks it’s the hottest fucking thing ever. 

You travel down his body, straddling his legs as you start to slowly pull his boxers off of him. Rafe’s hard cock springs out, shooting up into the air. You gasp at the sight. You can see why he’s always so cocky now, it’s because he’s got the means to back it up. 

Your hands find him, gently stroking his cock. Rafe’s head tips back, his eyes shutting in pleasure for a moment. Quickly, he’s watching you again, not wanting to miss the sight of this. Slowly, you put your mouth onto him. Rafe tries to remain in control by bucking his hips up off the bed, shoving his cock deep down your throat, making you gag in response. You pull off of him for a moment and he chuckles. Knowing he has a limited time with you, you don’t wait too long before sinking your mouth back down on him. As your confidence builds, so does your pace. 

“Shiiitt baby, feels so fucking good.” He groans. Already, you can feel his dick twitching in your mouth, causing him to whine. Big, tough Rafe Cameron whining underneath you, completely at your mercy. He doesn’t seem so threatening now that you’ve seen him like this. “W-wait, wait baby, wait.” He manages, his words just spilling out. He struggles against his restraints some more before continuing. “Not yet; I don’t wanna cum yet.” You understand, pulling your mouth off of him. You move to undo his restraints, his mouth finding your tits as you lean over him to untie the rope. 

The second he’s free, you’re already somehow on your back with him on top of you. Rafe leans over you and you press open-mouthed, wet kisses all across his chest as he does so. He grabs something from his nightstand and when he pulls back you can see the small, shiny wrapper in his hand. Smart, a condom. You hadn’t even thought of that, but it was probably a good idea.

You place your hands over his, taking the condom from him. As fast as you can, you open it and reach down between you two, rolling it onto his cock until it reaches the base. He leans back down on top of you, kissing your neck and jaw. He whispers, “can I?”

You respond jokingly, “that’s what you’re paying for, isn’t it?” Rafe just stares at you, his expression showing his annoyance and frustration with you. Before he asks you to ‘say it’, you add to your previous statement. “Yes, Rafe. Fuck me.”

Rafe doesn’t need any further permission as he lines himself up with your cunt. He wishes he could feel your wetness on his skin, but he knew wearing a condom was the smart thing. Slowly, he presses in. Only entering you about two inches, letting you adjust to him before adding a few more inches. Slowly; inch by inch, Rafe enters you, eventually bottoming out. Rafe stays still for a couple moments until you give him a small nod. He moves his hips slowly, rocking in and out of you at a comfortable pace. Your hands wrap around him, hooking underneath his biceps. Your palms grip onto his back, your nails only slightly digging into his skin. His pace begins to pick up, getting loud moans and whines to come from you. 

“Mmmnn…nnhhgghh f-fuuckk, Rafe!” You cry out, a tear rolling down your cheek. 

The sight of your tear only turns him on more, in a dark and twisted way. He uses his thumb to wipe away your warm, salty tear off of your cheek. 

Despite his gentle touch, Rafe is now drilling into you without regard for your poor cunt. Shamelessly fucking you with a condom on. He looks at the sticky, white mess leaking from your perfect cunt; creating a slick film that coats his entire cock. He reaches out to grab you by your hair, forcing your neck down so that you’re looking at where you and him connect, “See that? That’s all you baby.” 

When you’re greeted with the sight of his entire length buried deep inside of you, your eyes begin to roll back as your next orgasm approaches. Rafe clicks his tongue at you, pulling entirely out of you. After a few moments without him inside of you, you immediately start to pout. A whine escapes your lips, “Rafe…”, your hips buck up, as if trying to draw his attention back to your needy cunt. 

A small, cocky grin spreads across his face at the sight. His grip tightens in your hair as he begins to tug, directing your gaze right where he wants it, on him. “You gotta fuckin’ see this, baby.” Rafe says proudly, looking back down at your messy pussy. Quickly, he thrusts back into you with force and you watch as your cunt swallows him whole. “See that? See what you do for me?” Rafe speaks in a tone that sounds as though he’s praising you, but he knows that your body has no other option than to take him. “See how fuckin’ well you take me? This pussy was fuckin’ made for my cock.” 

Rafe groans, pre-cum now leaking into the condom as his pace becomes sporadic. Still going through the aftershocks of your most recent orgasm, your cunt continues to squeeze tightly around him.

“Holy f-fuck.” Rafe stutters, his fingers moving to your clit, rubbing it in circles. His movements are getting sloppy, arithmetic as he tries to draw another orgasm from you before he finishes. “God fucking damn.” Rafe’s head tips back, you lean up to kiss his neck, occasionally nipping at it, your moans being muffled by him.  

Your third orgasm approaches, your entire body trembling as you shriek. “Rafe! Fuck, fuck, I-fuck!” Your screams become muted when he kisses you, shutting you up. Rafe’s own orgasm starts to creep in, his thrusts getting harder for a moment before he stills inside of you. You can feel his cock twitch, followed by the feeling of his hot cum as it fills the condom. He slowly moves, easing you both back down from your highs. Eventually, he pulls out of you, rolling off to the side and laying on his back beside you. 

You work on catching your breath as you turn your head to look over at the time; you have about fifteen minutes left with him. You don’t know what he has in store for you now, he’s already succeeded in making you cum three times within forty-five minutes. While he takes a moment to rest, you decide to get on top of him. You pull off his condom, tying the end of it in a knot. Without giving him any kind of warning, you put your mouth back on him, sucking his warm, sticky seed off of his dick. One of his large hands shoots up to hold the back of your head, pushing your mouth all the way down on him. You can feel his semi-hard cock already growing harder again. 

“S-shit, babe.” He groans, pulling you up, bringing your face to his and meeting you with another kiss, as if to thank you. 

You stand up, your legs shaky. You half walk, half stumble into the adjoining bathroom, tossing the condom in the trash. You make your way back to the bed, laying next to him. You turn your head to look at him. “What else can I do for you? Time’s almost up.” You ask softly. 

Rafe huffs, pissed off that you had to remind him that this isn’t real, he’s paying for this, for you. Without a word, he flips over on top of you, his hand wrapping around your throat. There’s something different about him now. His eyes; they carry a bit of darkness, his movements now rough and aggressive. He squeezes your neck lightly, making you gasp in surprise. “Rafe…”

“Shhh…you’re gonna take what I give you.” He squeezes tighter, making it harder for you to breathe, but not impossible. He leans down, kissing all over your neck and chest, leaving bites and bruises in his wake. You let out a small whine involuntarily; you can feel his touch throughout your whole body, like a jolt of electricity. “Shut up, whore.” 

Suddenly, Rafe’s thrusting into you again. But wait, he’s not wearing a condom. In your surprise, this way feels so much better. You can feel the warmth and smoothness of his cock as it easily slides in and out of you, making the most lewd noises. You try to speak, but his hand tightens around your throat one final time, actually making it impossible for you to breathe. He stares into your eyes, watching as your face turns red and your panic sets in. You put your hands on his arm, hitting and tugging on it. Just as your vision starts to go dark, he eases his grip. You gasp for air, taking in as much as you can while he continues his attack on your pussy. 

You’re about to see stars again for the fourth time tonight when he suddenly pulls out of you. You whine at the loss of him, frustrated that he denied you of your orgasm. Rafe rolls off of you, making your brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck?” You question.

He looks over to the clock on his nightstand and you follow his gaze. “Time’s up.” He says plainly. You knew what he was doing. This sneaky motherfucker. He purposely got you to your climax right as the hour ended so you’d prove him right and beg for more; beg to let you cum one more time. As much as you wanted to prove him wrong and just leave, you need this, you need to feel him fill you up.

Before he can protest, you straddle his lap, sinking yourself down onto his cock. Immediately he groans, taking hold of your hips. He holds you still, not letting you move yet. “Knew you’d want more.” He says, now guiding you to grind on his dick, this new position lets him hit a new depth inside you. “M’not paying for this now.”

You don’t respond, instead using your energy to bounce up and down his length. Your climax is already near, your entire body shaking and spent from the past three orgasms he gave you. Rafe helps you out, his strong hand gripping onto you as he holds you up, drilling up into your cunt at a god-like pace. How is someone this talented, this fucking perfect, paying for sex? Surely he could get any girl he wants. Although you’re not complaining, four orgasms and a thousand dollars? How could it get any better than that? 

You yell out as the band in your stomach snaps, the pressure being relieved as a stream of your liquids squirt out of you, splashing onto his stomach, dripping down to his sheets underneath you both. You’re just as shocked as he is when this happens. You didn’t even know you could do that.

“Fuck,” Rafe growls, continuing to fuck up into your shaking body. Rafe doesn’t warn you before shooting his load into you. But the warmth and fulfillment of his seed feels too fucking good to be mad about. Slowly, you pull yourself off of him. He has to help lift you off of his cock since your body is completely spent. “You’re fucking amazing.” He presses a long, soft kiss to your head. 

After helping you clean up a bit, you change into your own clothes. Rafe drives you back to the club, the ride awfully quiet, both of you being too exhausted to talk. When you get there, he pulls his wallet out, grabbing out a large wad of cash and handing it to you. You quickly count it, and then recount it, when your results don’t change, you look up at him with furrowed brows. “That’s for being so fucking good.” Rafe had given you two thousand instead of one. This boosts your confidence a bit, an hour of sex with you is worth two thousand dollars? God, you should’ve fucked Rafe sooner. You get out of his truck and walk towards the club. Rafe speeds off out of the parking lot. 

It’s late, but Barry’s still here, though the crowd has definitely shrunken in the last hour. You walk in and find Barry in the back room. He laughs as he takes in your disheveled appearance; your hair and makeup are disastrous. 

“Looks like someone had a good time, huh? Now where’s my money?” He asks. You pull out the cash, counting 500 and tossing it to him. 

“There. That’s seventy-five percent of what I made.” You start to walk out. But his voice calls you back.

“Shit, you made two thousand in one hour just for fuckin’ him? You got some magic fuckin’ pussy or sum?” He laughs. “I might have to start sellin’ you out more, don’t I?”

Too tired to argue, you walk out. You don’t want to admit it, but you wouldn’t hate having to do that again with Rafe, whether it’s paid or unpaid.

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!

[caamboys]

FUTURE SPOUSE PAC

the dynamic between you both

long time no see guys <333

love reading for 2025 ! 🦪 I pray the reading resonates for anyone who engages.

( unedited )

this is focused solely on your personalities / energy within your relationship, not outside or in general.

PILE ONE

core energy within the dynamic : first love, situationship turned relationship, love coming when you least expect it

Reader within the relationship dynamic

channeled song- “ pretty girls walk this “

“ foreign, private, designer, stylist “

“ I’ll throw a tantrum, now a b*tch’ll get childish “

You’re turning over a new leaf within this relationship, embracing change. You could’ve been single for a while or this is your first relationship, either way you’re inexperienced. You’ll be exploring this relationship and all the aspects of it, embracing the new physical and emotional connection. You move quickly within this dynamic, a very spontaneous energy. You might have a key to their house and pop up randomly on them. You might want to move in quickly.

I see despite you being inexperienced you’re navigating dating them freely and bravely. They make you feel confident enough to date them without being plagued by feelings of paranoia or caution. You’re going into everything headfirst within this dynamic.

Future spouse within the relationship dyanamic

channeled song - “ poison “

“ I’m not above love to cash in “

“ Anyway you want me baby, that’s the way you got me baby, I’ll be yours “

-

This will sound cliche but they’ll be the ideal romantic partner. This is a lover boy / lover girl, a simp if you will. I think prior to your guys' connection they struggled with cold and detached partners, people who never could truly handle their emotional depth and yearning. This will dampen their spirit towards love in general until they meet you. The nonchalant facade will fade, and you renew their passion for love. Your genuineness towards dating and even the naivety you have towards love is shocking to them. You’re a breath of fresh air because you have nothing but good intentions, no ulterior motives in dating. Their ability to give to you is like a bottomless pit. They feel useless if you don’t ask them for anything. Want your hair or nails done? They got it. Want to go somewhere? They’ll take you. Don’t have something you need? They’ll handle it. This is definitely Mr/Mrs. Make it Happen. Gift giving is their ultimate love language to you. It’s funny because they’ll surprise you with something you didn’t even know you wanted. This person will be in a constant internal battle on whether or not they’re doing too much. Some of them want to show you the true depths of their love and just how deeply they can love you but another part of them doesn’t want to scare you off with their intensity. Their solution to this internal struggle would be “ gift giving “, a token of their affection for you that isn’t necessarily showing it in verbal / emotional way and making them feel vulnerable.

Another thing I channeled is the way they gaze at you. Even their stare has another level of intensity and yearning.

PILE TWO

core energies: expansion, extending the lineage, exploration

Reader within the relationship dynamic

( tw : mention of childhood trauma & abuse )

( promise it’s not a sad read just a small section addressed it )

channeled song- “ I wanna be your girlfriend “

“ I don’t wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your lips “

“ I wanna kiss you until I lose my breath”

Pile two you’re never paying for anything in this relationship. It’s giving, show up and look cute and you’ve fulfilled your payment. You don’t pay attention to anything when you’re with this person in public, you’re in your own little world, content and protected. I see you in a very youthful and reckless energy within the dynamic. You may be in college/school right now and living with either roommates or parents during the initial stages of this relationship. This relationship will address and heal a lot of childhood trauma. The main thing I channeled was parental wounds. Perhaps one or both of your parents may have been emotionally absent or abusive, or something happened with a trusted guardian or teacher that formed some sort of trauma at a young age. The one thing I’m getting from this is you’ve carried a lot of burdens that forced you to think / act a lot older than you were. You may have developed a hyper independence from this. This person is going to help you release control to someone else and allow them the opportunity to help you take care of yourself.

One thing about you in this dynamic I’m fond of is your standards. You know what you want, how you wish to be treated and you won’t hesitate to leave. You have very strong boundaries and this comes from a strong self worth. You will advocate for yourself within this relationship, you will voice any opinions you have regardless if they’re positive or negative. If your needs aren’t being met you have no problem communicating it. You’re not aiming to be a people pleaser within this relationship but instead your most authentic self.

Future spouse within the relationship dynamic

channeled song - “ Alone tonight “

“ I don’t wanna be alone tonight, can you keep me company? “

“ My names known worldwide, still need someone in my life “

They’re older than you or they have more life experience or knowledge than you. They will play many roles within your relationship including your partner, protector and teacher. This is a very intellectually charged person. They’re already established within their long term career or pursuing it. They’re the more disciplined and structured individuals in the relationship. When it comes to making plans, scheduling trips or dates they’ll handle it. Look up airport couple on TikTok and you’ll get a glance into your relationship, you’ll turn off your brain in public and they’ll be the vigilant and focused ones. Another scenario I’m channeling for you is them taking you camping. I can imagine them guiding you to build the tent, teaching you how to start and maintain a fire, etc..

They will be the clean freak within the relationship. If you’re more disheveled or messy they’ll be stern about it lol. They will move quickly within the relationship. To you, they plan spontaneous dates but for them, it was already calculated and thought of days ahead of them communicating it. This person has a strong paternal/maternal instinct and it reflects itself in the relationship. They know exactly how to read you emotionally, soothe you, or show up for you way you need. It also shows in their protectiveness. They want to have your location and know your work schedule. This person's protectiveness to you is also because you represent a legacy to them, a new lineage, the chance to build their own family.

The overall energy of this dynamic that I’m channeling is

“ I can do it myself “

“ I know; but I want to do it for you “

PILE THREE

core energies: best-friends, lots of banter and bickering, US VS THE WORLD

Reader within the future relationship dynamic

( yall, I channeled these songs AFTER I did the reading and wrote everything down. CHANNELING THIS SONG WAS SO FUNNYYY TO ME 🤭🤭 the “playfighting “ I mentioned several times below was definitely confirmed lmaooo in no way am I condoning violence but im giggling )

channeled song - “ bust your kneecaps “

“ honey believe me, I have your heart on a platter”

“ they’ll bust your kneecaps, probably some other stuff too “

You try to overpower them. You’re constantly challenging them mentally or physically. You enjoy invoking a reaction from them, getting them super hype during debates or red in the face from play fighting. Prior to the relationship you didn’t like this person, they may have come across as egotistical or arrogant and it irritated you. The kind of person everyone likes and you’re just like “ yeeah okay whatever “. Somehow you two enter a partnership but I think you still have the energy of wanting to take them down a peg, not in a toxic way, moreso the way bestfriends bicker and check each other. That aside, you're very grounded within the relationship. You seem very down to earth, perhaps a humanist or an animal lover. You might have a cat lol. Your energy alone within the dynamic is a constant source of growth for you both. You balance out the love and tension well, dishing it out at the perfect moments. You get cuteness aggression with this person a lot, I think it’s the source for a lot of the banter between you both.

Future spouse within the relationship dynamic

channeled song - “ super shy “

“ I wanna go out with you, where you wanna go? “

“ You don’t even know my name do you? “

They are similar to you, but can be even more immature. They are childish and allow themselves to be free and youthful around you. Within the relationship they might be the reckless one, never scared to cause commotion or be a daredevil. They may have a lot of scars or get hurt easily from this lol. They’re super active, whether in sports or working out but they’ll want to include you in it. You might go on hikes or walks or nature trails with this person, be careful though because they’ll be the type to get you lost lol. They get off on the tension / debating within your relationship. Physical touch is their love language with you, and play fighting with them will be like the ultimate foreplay. They have a big family, friend group, or a lot of external energy around them. I say this because people are naturally drawn and charmed easily by your significant other. I think prior to the relationship you’ll be the one to see past all sweet and nice exterior and into their underlying mischievous side. They may seem like an angel in front of others but you can sense the deception within it, and in turn you don’t treat them like everyone else. This will catch their interest first about you, your seemingly detachment or dislike of them. They will pursue you and seek you out first because of your obvious dislike or disinterest in them and then realize how well you connect mentally.

Communication will flow naturally and honestly I'm getting a sort of telepathic bond between you both. Not literally, moreso you can read each other’s expressions and know what the other is thinking. They can look into your eyes and have an entire conversation with you. They’ll definitely encourage this “telepathic bond”, wanting you both to be in a bubble apart from everyone else.

They’ll honestly recognize you as themselves in another body, you two may think so similarly that you both see each other as extensions of the other if that makes sense. An example I’m channeling is

“ you’re the boy version of me”

“ no, you’re the girl version of me”

PILE FOUR

core energy: breaking barriers and social norms, establishing wealth, breaking generational curses

Reader within the relationship dynamic

channeled song- “ take me to church “

“ knows everybody’s disapproval, I should’ve worshipped her sooner “

“ my lovers got humor, she’s the giggle of the funeral”

You’re in a very successful energy within this relationship. Career wise you are independent and very productive, I channeled booked and busy to be exact. You have very ambitious energy within the relationship towards finances and establishing wealth, part of this is through a stable and healthy partnership. In the past you’ve lowered yourself to meet others levels, within this relationship you stand securely within your power. You wish to combine finances and wealth and build a sustainable legacy for your future generations to come. That aside, you seem to be the more extroverted one in this Dynamic. Even if you’re introverted, people are very fond of you. This will irritate your future spouse because they feel like people are constantly “ orbiting“ around you. You may have a lot of friends or social connections, or just a well known person. You may have a large social media following. People might even think you’re out of your future spouse's league in terms of appearances or finances but you understand that shallow and superficial standards won’t secure a healthy and flourishing life. I’m not getting your future spouse is unattractive, but something about them compared to you is different. They could be nerdier than you, alternative, super spiritual, etc, goth. You may have to defend this person and explain to others you’re not dating this individual for social norms, instead you’re securing a healthy partnership. You will recognize just how well you collaborate and vibe together on an emotional, spiritual and intellectual level. You’re not dating them for them to be your trophy wife/husband, but moreso a soulmate connection that exceeds society's standards. This may also be a same sex connection you’re in.

Future spouse within the relationship dynamic

channeled song - “ money trees “

“ love one of you bucket headed h*es? no way “

“ money trees is the perfect place for shade “

They’re very fulfilled within your relationship. They daydream about starting a family with you. They feel like no one knows you better than them, and it’s something that makes them feel special especially compared to other people around you. In the beginning stages of your relationship I’m seeing your future spouse in a competitive energy with your friends or maybe even family about who is closer to you. This may cause strife within your dynamic, jealous of the attention you give to others and scared of the attention you receive, sometimes making them question whether or not they’re good enough for you. You will realize this very early on in the relationship, recognizing that they put you on a pedestal. Unlike with other people, it may particularly bother you when your future spouse does, you don’t want them to romanticize you like others. You will share with them all the repulsive sides, flaws and shortcomings you have and you will be reborn again in their eyes. This will only make this person love you that much more. “ seeing what no one else gets to see “ is what I’m channeling from them. Your vulnerability will soothe any feelings of abandonment. They will know how special they are to you after you’ve let them see past your surface level and into the depths of who you truly are. This will make them arrogant within your dynamic about their spot in your life, no longer insecure. A random example I channeled is someone offering you a certain snack / food and your future spouse answering for you and telling them “ no, they’re allergic to so and so”. They’re like a walking encyclopedia of you . They know everyone’s connection with you doesn’t nearly go as deep as theirs. They’re a bit obsessive over you, strong Scorpio energy here. You will have a very watchful and observant partner, even when you think they’re not watching, trust me they are. I think prior to this relationship they knew you and liked you, but you didn’t know this. They give me the energy of someone getting into a relationship with their crush. They have tunnel vision when it comes to you, I don’t think anyone could ever tempt your future spouse.

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