#I didn’t even get the chance to go in in person first cause the plan was to do that tomorrow
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heylittleriotact · 3 days ago
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I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the majority of death care professionals I’ve worked with have some sort of fucked up mortician-origin-story and got into funerals in the first place to either try and demystify death or cope with their trauma by constantly exposing themselves to it, and that’s literally what Emmrich has done his entire life and it’s why I love him so much.
Under the cut for some pretty raw death talk, including infant death, because fuck it - there’s a reason this pixel man lives rent free in my head and I’m about to get personal.
My Mom very unexpectedly and traumatically lost a full term pregnancy when I was 7. The first corpse I ever saw or touched was my dead sister. The first baby I held in my arms was dead.
What the fuck do you mean she’s dead? Why is she dead? She’s a baby. Babies don’t die. Old people die. Bad guys in movies die. Babies don’t.
And then from there it was like… months of infuriating and condescending bullshit from well-meaning people just wanting to reconcile with something that can’t really be reconciled with: people said a lot of stuff to me like, “it was God’s plan” or, “it wasn’t meant to be” or, “at least she didn’t suffer” or “God needed her more” and loads of other trite bullshit in the same vein, and it really, really fucked with me as a child.
I watched it destroy my already unstable mother and cause her to take out her complicated grief on me - her abusive tendencies sharply escalated after the loss. I think she resented me. I think she resented seeing how much the loss hurt me and felt that I had no right to be as upset as I was. I think she didn’t know how to support a grieving child when she didn’t even have the tools to support herself.
I felt so isolated and confused. I became obsessed with death and heaven and angels and the idea of a soul, and as I got older, I couldn’t let go of the belief that no child - or person for that matter - should have to go through what I did.
So I became a funeral director. Because if I could help one child in a horrific situation feel seen and validated, then I’d made a difference. If I could help one despondent mother towards the right resources, or even just fucking make her feel seen and validated too, maybe she’d wind up in a better place than mine did.
I wanted to say fuck you to death. I wanted to prove my defiance by helping the living people left behind pick up the pieces. I wanted to learn to handle the unavoidable, permanent, unfeeling existence of death with the cautious reverence that one would employ when handling a venomous snake. And I did. I helped a lot of people and it fed my soul in insurmountable ways.
I became that weird death obsessed friend who couldn’t talk about anything EXCEPT funerals and death and souls and embalming and what happens to your body when you die. If you had a curious question about death or funerals? I would jump on the chance to answer it for you. Needed help with the loss of a loved one? I’ve gotchu. I became The Death Guy (I guess I still kind of am - I’m still happy to front questions and help friends and family navigate death and funerals because the knowledge is all still there.)
Eventually it became a great way for me to bury other traumas that happened to me (an abusive childhood, sexual assault and all sorts of abuse at the hands of a partner) and just not really deal with them because I couldn’t: I didn’t have time to deal with my own shit because other people needed help more than me. After all, they were dealing with a death. My own problems were small in comparison, right?
It all caught up with me after living and working through the nightmare that was COVID, and I burnt out super hard, had a small breakdown, hit the sauce super hard for awhile, and developed a lovely anxiety disorder and full blown insomnia. Counselling and a career change have helped immensely, but yeah…
I obsess over this old man as much as I do because I see a lot of my own shit and insecurities and fears and unhealthy coping mechanisms in him, and I just want everything to be okay for him, because it ended up being okay for me. It just took a lot of fucking work to get there.
To be gifted a character as complex and real as Emmrich is some once in a lifetime shit, and I’m so glad he exists. Get his ass to therapy.
I'm glad we agree that Emmrich has an absolutely unconscionable amount of rizz. However, I also have a great appreciation for his proficiency at the great honored pastime of Being A Fucking Weirdo. My man goes to work at the Death Factory every single day and copes with his deep deep fear of dying by?? Cosplaying a skeleton? Taash was NOT WRONG when they called him the corpse guy. Even amongst other necromancers, he is THEE corpse guy! His best friend is a skeleton and he hasn't left the Cemetary Where He Lives for years. He is 90% ookie spooks and 10% bisexual disaster man. The only reason he's so suave and smooth is because the ookie spooks are actually load-bearing and manage to utterly obscure what a nervous wreck he is at all times of day. It's hard to give into the existential dread when you're spending all of your time saying shit like, "The tapestry of the Fade holds many threads."
I just know that this man is holding back the mother of all existential crises. He all but has it after he yoinks Rook out of the Fade but he bottles it back up so quick you KNOW that wasn't the whole thing. You KNOW that Rook is going to wake up in the middle of the night six months after Elgar'nan bites it and there Emmrich will be, lich or not, staring blankly at the ceiling and saying, "Darling, what does it all mean?" Emmrich Volkarin is a sexy, sexy man who needs therapy and some sleep and maybe an extended sabbatical from Dead People University.
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staytinyville · 19 hours ago
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WHAT'S THIS?
↣ Summary: You were always different from those of Christmas Town. Something was missing inside of you that you needed to find. Have you possibly gone daffy?
↣ Characters/Pairing: Ragdoll!Hongjoong x Elf!Reader
↣ Genre: Smut, fluff
↣ AU/Trope info: Nightmare Before Christmas!AU, Monster!Au, Jacob’s ladder deal with penis, 
↣ Word Count:
↣ Warnings: Soft sex, Christmas/Halloween Fluff, love at first sight
↣ A/N: To the ever great @catkyunie for Secret Santa. I had another thing planned but ultimately decided on this because I watched the movie four times in a weekend. I love the soundtrack so much man. Also I’ve had the idea to make a Nightmare Before Christmas AU for a while now but it wasn’t this story exactly. I love the movie so much so I hope it comes out as well I hope it did. 
Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist
↣ Affiliates: @cromernet , @pirateeznet , @k-labels , @k-vanity
↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!
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Never go near the Holiday Trees. 
For as long as one could remember, the elves were told that. It was centuries ago when the rule was brought up after a very troublesome Halloween town citizen decided they wanted to take over Christmas. 
Things have changed–the children have changed. There was no better holiday compared to the rest. Each person had their favorite, and so the ones in charge didn’t bother with the other holidays for fear of being less than happy. 
But that didn’t mean those who were in charge of the holidays still couldn’t feel as though there was something missing within themselves. 
You could hear the soft crunch of your reindeer companion following behind you, bleating small sounds as it found berries and grass to eat. It happily continued to munch while you frowned deeply at the prospect of walking through a foot of snow. 
It bothered you. You could see how all the other elves were easily able to navigate themselves through the snow on light feet–not sinking down to end up buried in it. It was your fault, you figured. Not having the simple little magic everyone else had. 
You couldn’t make toys. Couldn’t bring joy to the children who you had to watch over every once in a while. You couldn’t even make cookies that somehow every elf knew how to make from scratch. You were the odd ball in the town full of ridiculously happy citizens that mocked you every chance they could. 
Well, maybe they didn’t mock you because that would be very naughty of them. But you did feel bad everytime they tried to teach you something and you just couldn’t get it. There was something missing. And year after year, it hurt to see Christmas come and go without your help. 
Your ears twitch as you trudge through the thick snow trying to find more pine cones to fill your family tree with. You were wrapped in double scarves, your ears and nose covered. The snow was thinning out the further in you went and by then your legs were so tired you were half tempted to fall over into the snow to rest for a moment. 
You sniffled, nose starting to run but you used your sleeve to brush it away. By the time you realized it, the snow had cleared completely all of a sudden which caused you to trip over your own feet and fall flat onto the forest floor. 
“Oof.” You groaned, shuffling out of the snowy area and onto the dirt. 
Pine needles stuck to your face as you shuffled yourself to stand up, coming to sit on your knees and look around the clearing. 
You felt a shiver go through your body as you stared up at the tree that had a large pumpkin door on its trunk. You glanced around for a moment more, seeing the rest of the holiday doors waiting for someone to open them. You finally got up onto your legs, the jingle bells on your feet and hat making a sound each time you moved. 
You knew exactly where you were and found it odd that you were even here. The location of these trees are only known to the Claus’s, so to be able to reach this place was something you couldn’t fathom. 
Each door was different from the last. Some brighter than others while some just seemed so plain. The pumpkin with the large grin stared back at you as you reached it last. It’s smile was dark, almost a pitch black that had you losing yourself within it. Each jagged edge looked like it would prick you if you dared to touch it. 
And yet you still found yourself reaching for the door knob nose, muscles straining just a bit as the knob seemed stuck for a moment. But it finally moved after a moment, startling you with how easy it was to pull the door open.
It was even darker inside, a gust of wind blowing through causing red and orange leaves to fall out. Your nose crinkled at the smell of black licorice. But you still stuck your head further in, trying to make out something inside the abyss of the tree. 
Suddenly you could hear a humming. A sound that went together to form some kind of lullaby that almost put you to sleep. You strained your ears to hear more of it, trying to make out the words. 
“Sometimes you gotta move forward. Just take it step by step. And then you’ll notice you’ve found your place…”
Just a bit more, you told yourself, moving closer. 
Just a bit more ended up being too much though. Before you realized it, your little jingle bells tinkled one last time before everything turned black. 
It was a whirlwind of bright lights and empty space that you felt like you were floating in. Gravity did not exist as you fell. You wanted to grab onto something but the only thing it seemed like you could do was scream into the void. 
It was a quick journey. Not even half a minute as you felt a force suddenly drag you towards a direction. Your back hit against a surface before it vanished and you fell through. You let out a loud gasp, bright colors filling your vision as you were thrown into a much warmer place.
Before you tumbled onto the floor, you quickly caught sight of the sharp edges of a christmas tree shape on the trunk of a tree. You rolled over, grunting as you landed on your back, your legs falling down quickly and your body becoming exhausted. 
You took in a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. It was a bit but you slowly allowed yourself to feel the ground around you trying to make sure you were in fact on some kind of surface. 
Turning your head from side to side, you noticed you were back in the clearing of holiday trees. Only this time there was no Halloween one. Raising slowly to sit up, you took notice of how there was no snow covering the ground or pine trees that were losing needles. 
Instead the trees were barren almost, the leaves left on the branches ranging from a yellow to brown color. Most of them seemed to be on the floor, waiting to be picked up. 
There was a sudden squirming feeling under your legs, like an animal was trying to get out from under you. You frowned, scooting back and pulling your knees up to grab at whatever it was. It wasn’t furry, nor was it that large. It wiggled around, your eyebrows pinching together as you felt multiple limbs. 
“What’s this?” You asked yourself, pulling the object out from under you. 
When you finally grasped it fully, your eyes went wide as it suddenly grabbed ahold of your hand. Pulling it out, the thing hanging from your hand was another hand. However it was severed at the wrist. 
“Oh my Kringle!” You screamed, throwing the hand away from you. 
You gasped louder as it began to wiggle and suddenly upright itself. It scurried away behind a tree, catching your attention as something seemed to bend down to grab it. Whatever it was shuffled back from view, their foot being the last to be hidden. 
Tilting your head in confusion you realized it was a person who was standing on the other side. The voice you heard earlier was suddenly starting to make sense, so you gradually became more curious. 
“I know you’re there.” You called out, crawling closer to the tree. 
You sighed when they didn’t move nor say anything. You thought to yourself for a moment, thinking back to how the person singing felt so sad. 
“The song you were singing–are you okay?”
“Of course I am.” They quickly spoke up. 
Your eyebrows shot up, smiling to yourself that you got them to speak. “It didn’t sound like you were.” You continued. “Are you going to come out?”
“You are not from Halloween Town.” He told you. 
“I’m from Christmas Town.” You shook your head, the bells jingling from the top of your hat. “A bit much isn’t it?” You giggled, wiggling your feet with the same bells. 
He scoffed playfully. “Just a bit.” 
“You have an amazing voice. I wish to hear more of it, please.” You crawled closer to the tree. “Will you please come out?” 
You could hear them shuffling around in contemplation. It took a moment but slowly they walked out one foot after the other. It was something out of a fairytale seeing him for the first time. 
You began to hum for some reason, hearing the ring of a jingle bell go off in your ear. He was deliberate in the way he walked. He was careful, but still it looked graceful. The first thing that caught your attention though, were the stitches that stretched across his mouth. 
“You’re stitches–do they hurt?” You asked quietly, coming to a stand. 
You walked closer to him, hands twitching at your side as you wanted to reach up and touch him. 
“No.” He spoke up, watching you intently. 
You raised your hands, moving them closer to his face. But you caught yourself, stopping as you realized it would be rude to just touch him. 
“May I?’ You asked quietly, waiting for his reply. 
He looked down at your raised hands, your curious eyes on his scars. “Sure.”
You lightly skimmed your fingers across his mouth. The tips of your longer fingers touched at his lips while they moved across the bumpy patches. You were scared of hurting him, so you didn’t try pressing them harder into his skin when your curiosity peaked at how the skin parted and created a hole. You wondered if they would open up, your hand passing through his cheek. 
When you looked up at his eyes, you found him staring at something near the side of your head. Your large pointed ears twitched at his stare, causing him to flinch just the tiniest bits. His hands shook at his side, almost coming up. 
“You can go ahead.” You told him, moving your head to the side to allow him the space to touch your ears. 
He tentatively reached up, fingers grazing the shell of your ear just as yours touched his stitches. He started at the bottom before smoothly gliding upwards. It wasn’t until they began to touch the tips of your ears that you suddenly felt a shiver go down your spine. 
You let out a tiny gasp, eyes fluttering shut as your lips pressed together. He suddenly pulled back from you, your own hand falling from his face. 
“Sorry.” He quickly said, waiting for your reply. 
“It’s okay.” You beamed up at him. “They’re just sensitive.”
“Hongjoong!”
Both of you suddenly turned around, hearing the call. 
The man’s eyes went wide, suddenly grabbing you and pushing you back towards the Christmas Tree. 
“You have to go.”
“What? Why?” You questioned, looking around trying to find whoever had called.
“You are not supposed to be here. We are not supposed to go to other holidays.”
He continued, opening the door and about to shove you through until you stopped yourself. 
“But–your singing.” You quietly said. “I really loved it.”
He paused, lips pressing together. His eyes twinkled almost, as if he could he would be blushing from your compliment. 
“Thank you. I appreciate it.” He told you softly. 
“Joong!” 
You suddenly turned around, ready to be pushed back into the tree but you had something to ask him first. 
“You have to go now.”
“Will I see you again?” You asked, hoping he would say yes. 
He seemed stunned for a moment, looking back to where the sound of rustling leaves were heard. 
“Come tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”
Your lips pulled up into a smile, feeling something warm fill your chest. Just as someone was about to enter the clearing, you felt the suction of the tree pulling you back in. 
“Goodbye.” You heard one last moment before falling. 
**
“Oh he was amazing, Mrs Claus!” You sighed, picking up the tinsel the old lady wanted to move. “He was so devastatingly pretty. Nothing could compare to him. And-And his singing! So hauntingly beautiful. It was alluring in such a way that left me breathless.”
“It sounds like you're in love, dear.” The jolly ole’ woman hummed, shaking around as she sprinkled something on some cookies. 
“You really think so?” You smiled bashfully, looking down at the gingerbread man you were decorating. 
You looked down at the cookie, eyebrows pulling up at the smirk the cookie seemed to be sporting. It have little triangles at it’s lips, the red icing popping out. Black icing covered it’s forehead in a line, stitches being show as though it had been put together. 
Looking up you noticed Mrs. Claus turning around with another batch, quickly shoving the sweet into your mouth to prevent her from seeing it. While you were too worried someone would catch on to your secret, you hadn’t even noticed that the cookie was created to perfection.
You could hear the other elves giggling at your antics.  
“Tell me, do you feel a warmth that comes from inside?” The old lady continued grinning. 
You swallowed before contemplating her question. Before long you realized she had been right, a soft smile falling on your lips as you thought about Hongjoong. 
“I've never felt so good before. This empty place inside of me is filling up.” You spoke quietly. 
“That's a good thing dear. No more worries.”
You decorated another batch of cookies, too preoccupied to even notice that you were creating some kinds of monsters along the men. But you were in the clouds, thinking about the man who you had come across. The elves only looked at you oddly, but didn’t make a comment because they could see that you were not about to answer. 
You continued on your way, out of the kitchen area. Just as you opened the door though, you flinched at the four men who were standing on the other side with wide grins on their faces. Well a wide grin on one of their faces. 
“Why are you just standing there?” You asked them. 
“We know where you went.” Wooyoung the first to always say something told you.  
You pushed them aside, continuing on your journey back to your house. “Where did I go?”
“You went through the tree.” Jongho spoke up. 
You tensed up but tried not to show it. 
“The Halloween tree.” Yeosang prattled. 
“Is he a monster?” Yunho asked. 
“Who?” You played dumb. 
“The man you're in love with.” Wooyoung giggled. 
“I'm not in love.” You shook your head, opening the door to the kitchen shop and walking out into the cold air. 
“We beg to differ. What is he?” Yunho asked. 
“He's nothing.” You spoke up without thought. 
“So there is someone.”
“No.” You stopped turning to look at them. “Drop it. There is no one.”
“You told Mrs Claus there was, though.” Yeosang said. 
“Were you eavesdropping?” You glared at all of them.
“We always do.” Jongho shrugged. “How do you think we knew Holly was secretly seeing Tinsel?”
You glared at the boys, feeling ticked with their wide grins. 
“I'm going home.” You declared, turning around. “Do not follow me!”
“Well when they say it like that I want to follow them.”
Yeosang kept his eyes on your retreating figure. More so the way you were walking through the snow without any trouble at all. They were all so used to you sinking in the snow and complaining about the cold that he was quick to notice you did none of those the moment they were outside. 
“Did you notice they didn’t sink into the snow?” Yeosang spoke up softly, watching as your feet seemed lightweight in the snow. 
“You think they’re finally getting into the Christmas spirit?” Yunho asked his friend. 
They thought about how you were talking about someone who seemed to have caught your attention. There was only one way to describe the way you had told Mrs. Claus about the person. The adjectives you had used were not ones they were used to and it was clear from where this person had come from. 
But whoever it was that had caught your attention, they started something that you were in desperate need of. 
“It’s some kind of spirit.”
**
It was a few days later when the four elves were finally able to follow you into the woods. They were pushing and shoving each other as each time they would lift a foot, their bells would jingle. But you were still none the wiser as you had something occupying your mind. 
They stilled for a moment behind a tree, almost falling onto the ground that seemed to be devoid of snow. Peaking over the other, they tried their best to see where you were going. And when you pulled open a door in one of the trees they were quick to understand. 
“They aren’t actually going there are they?” Yunho asked with wide eyes. 
You climbed the small steps, peering into the hallow tree. 
“I think they are.” Wooyoung gasped. 
Hearing their loud mouths, you turned around finding their bodies heading your way in a rushed manner. Your eyes went wide and you held your hands in front of you to keep them from pushing.
“(Y/N)!” Yeosang yelled, shoving into you. 
The world went black and you found yourself falling into the empty space you had grown used to these past few days. You could hear the boys screams and yells trying to find something to grab onto. 
With the impact on your back, you grunted when all of a sudden gravity made the four boys fall on you full force. You skid along the floor for a moment, groaning like you had the first time you came through the door. 
Once you got your baring together, you began to slap a hand on one of the boys. 
“What are you idiots doing!?” You pushed them off.
“Don’t hurt us!” Jongho raised his arms. 
“It seems we weren’t the only ones who had the idea to follow.”
You looked up, coming across four faces all looking down at you. 
“Hongjoong.” You quickly said. 
“Get off me!” You tried to shove Wooyoung off, the man shivering as he looked up at the other Halloween citizens. 
“They are monsters!” He sobbed, hiding in your stomach. 
“Who?” The one with horns asked with wide puppy looking eyes. 
“I know you are not talking about us, Darling.” Another grinned, his kanine teeth sharp as he looked at Wooyoung. 
Wooyoung whimpered again, hugging you closer once more. 
“Leave him alone, Seonghwa.” Hongjoong rolled his eyes, moving to help you up. 
“Is this your sweet?” You heard the giggle of one. 
He began playing the bell on your hat, smiling to himself as his large fluffy ears flickered from every sound they made. 
“Such a jolly little thing.” The other with sharp teeth spoke quietly, looking at you with a charming grin. 
“Seonghwa.” Hongjoong warned, pulling you closer to him. 
“You know I love knew friends, Joongie.” Seonghwa chuckled. “Especially the adorable ones.”
He spoke directly to Yeosang and Yunho who stood off huddled behind Jongho. The two blushed at the man’s words, flustered from his compliment. 
“Welcome all of you to Halloween.” The one with dog ears spoke up. “We hope you enjoy your time here.”
He had moved to pick up Wooyoung, but the moment the man took a look at the werewolf’s face he began to blush a bright red. Wooyoung squeaked, looking up from the floor before scrambling into Jongho’s hold. 
You began to giggle, feeling Hongjoong’s hand squeeze yours tightly. There was something about the way Hongjoong’s friends were so friendly that made you more then excited to meet them all. 
“My name is San.” The one with wolf ears spoke up, a smile on his face as he waited eagerly for your friends to say something. 
“I am Seonghwa.” The vampire bowed at his waist, hand along his torso.
“Mingi.” The boy with horns and wide eyes said, looking hopeful at each of your friends. 
The elves all watched them curious eyes but they didn’t say anything else.
“Don’t be rude, boys.” You immediatly said, catching their attention. 
They bowed at their waists, introducing themselves to Hongjoong’s friends. You smiled greatfully at the way they all started talking as though they had known each other forever. 
Seonghwa made another suggestive comment that had left Wooyoung flustered and hiding behind Jongho.
“Are they all like that?” You giggled. 
“Only Seonghwa.” Hongjoong snorted. “Are your friends always like that?”
“Only Wooyoung.”
**
There was a breeze that swept through the trees bringing down leaves that seemed to be never ending. You reached out for one that had fallen in front of you, twirling it around from the stem. 
“Hongjoong.” You quietly spoke out loud, turning to the man who was laying on his back with his eyes closed. 
He hummed, lips barely being pulled into a smile as he was enjoying his time. You leaned closer, laying on your stomach. You played with the leaf, dragging it along his nose. He scrunched up, trying to hold in his sneeze. 
“What is it, Jingle?” He asked you after swatting you away. 
You tilted your head to the side, glancing down his body. 
“Are you able to–you know–” You wiggled your hand down towards his thighs, gesturing to what’s between his legs. 
Hongjoong’s eyes quickly shot open, a frown on his face as he realized what you were gesturing to. He looked at you with an odd face, eyebrows raised to the sky as his stitches pulled his cheeks. 
“Why are you asking about it?” He asked you.
“The others talked about those kinds of things and you didn’t say anything.” You sat up, the bell on your hat ringing. “You just stayed quiet and listened to them go on and on.”
He sat up and shrugged. “I didn’t feel the need to.” He explained. “I’m not the kind of person who would do those kinds of things. Besides, I’m too busy to think about any of it.”
You thought about all the times that you were not able to hang out with Hongjoong. Especially when Halloween starts showing up. But you figured it was the same way with everyone else. Even the boys were sometimes too busy to hang out with you when Christmas was coming around. 
With the fact that you were not able to enjoy christmas the way everyone else was, things were different for you. You had all the time in the world to enjoy life, while others were busy. You could only imagine how much of a pain it was for Hongjoong being the head of Halloween. 
“You said you were the Pumpkin King, right?” You asked. 
He nodded his head, tilting it to the side as he wondered where you were going. 
You turned back around, scooting back so that you could fall into his arms. He happily held them open for you, allowing you to lay you back against his chest. His nosed at your cheek, feeling the warmth from your always red skin. 
“”It must be really hard to find someone.” You told him. 
He paused, stitches being pulled as a small smile fell onto his lips. “I don’t think it’s really all that hard.” He said. 
You turned to look at him, your eyes sparkling as they took in the soft way he looked at you. “So you do have someone?”
You were about to move out of his arms, causing him to giggle as he crushed you back between his arms. His head fell to your neck, giving you simple kisses that had you laughing. 
“It took years but I finally found someone who means more to me than being Pumpkin King.”
You turned around swiftly, legs moving to either side of his thighs. “More than being Pumpkin king?” You shook your head. “That’s one of the greatest honors a Halloween Town citizen can have. It’s like the Santa of Halloween.”
He laughed, smiling. He brought his forehead down to touch yours. “I was created to be the next Pumpkin King. The bones I have within me belonged to a past one and yet just like them I longed to find something that would fill an emptiness that would not go away.”
“There’s something out there, far from my home, a longing that I’ve never known.” He hummed quietly, bringing his hand up to touch your cheek. 
He leaned back down against the blanket, bringing you with him. You placed your hands on his chest, allowing him to stroke your back as you got comfortable atop him. 
“That longing could only be filled by someone like you.”
You softly placed your lips against his lips, stealing his breath as your emotions rose. Your hand moved into his hair, softly scratching at the scalp. There was a moan that fell from his lips at the stimulation, which made you pull back in fright. 
You pulled yourself up, staring down at him. He was panting, eyes drooping as he looked up at you. 
“I’m not going to stop.” He said breathlessly. 
You gasped quietly, as he pulled you closer, quickly turning over to lay over you. He reached up to rub his hand against your cheek softly, staring at you with sharp eyes that seemed to make you melt. 
You raised your own hand, thumbing at his stitches that fell directly from his eyes. “I don’t want you to.”
His next kiss was electrifying. It was harsh and demanding but even though it seemed that way, it was clear neither of you knew what to do. It was not your first kiss but it was the first time you were feeling as though summer was creeping through your bones. 
His tongue swept out to touch your bottom lip, allowing you the room to open your mouth for him. This was out of the ordinary for you, never really knowing what it was like to be with someone in this way. 
But everything Hongjoon did, you didn’t dare want to question. It made you feel an excitement–a warmth you had been longing for, for such a long time. It was exhilarating, magnificent. It was terrifying to feel such a need for Hongjoong. 
You pulled away from him breathlessly, the cooling air coming from the fall breeze did nothing to cool you. The red you always had on your skin from the biting cold was no longer your body trying to warm you up to survive. This time the flush you had was because of Hongjoong. And he wanted to see much more of it. 
His thigh nudged itself in between your own, opening your legs for his body to move in between. There was something between his legs you had never felt before and it was leaving you to burn up. Your knees were pulled up, allowing Hongjoong the space to slot himself perfectly. 
The hands you had behind his head moved, wanting to feel more of his skin so you placed them under his shirt, feeling the soft skin of his shoulders. Before you realized it, the man leaned up, quickly taking off his shirt that had you leaning on your elbows to stare at him wide eyed. 
The stitches. The discoloration of each patch of skin. His muscles. 
Nothing could ever compare to the haunting beauty someone like Kim Hongjoong had. He was someone who was created to rule–someone who demanded attention in his own way. Even if he wasn’t completely his own, the way he was put together was meant to be one of a kind. 
“What?” He smiled at you, chuckling at the look you had. 
“I’ve never seen someone like you.” You spoke softly. 
Hongjoong frowned just for a moment, about to lean back and away from you feeling like there was something wrong. You quickly caught on though, reaching back up to pull him closer to you. You placed your forehead against his, closing your eyes as your lips brushed his in a soft way. 
Once again, you rubbed at his stitches, this time the ones near his mouth. Opening your eyes he watched as you looked at him with such an intense stare it made him want to cry. 
“Someone like you means that nothing will ever compare to the kind of beauty you have.” You whispered. “In all my years of living–you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
“Thank you.” He whispered. 
You leaned back in to give him a kiss. This time you allowed him to take off your coat, the green fabric falling behind you as you climbed into Hongjoong’s lap. He was rushing though, seeming more attached to you as he laid you down again.
His hands moved under your shirt, pushing it up as he tried to reveal your breasts. The bra you wore was plain, nothing fancy because of the standard elf uniform. You would have never thought about dressing pretty for Hongjoong, but now that he is looking at you the way he is, you wished you had. 
However he didn’t seem to mind as he quickly pushed your bra cups up and over your nipple so he could see them. You squeaked, looking up at him, shoulders scrunched up causing your arms to push your boobs together more. 
Hongjoong started to smile, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “You are so precious.”
You laughed, his body leaning over to give you a peck before he dove down to tongue at your chest. Your chuckle was cut off when his mouth encased a nipple. A sharp gasp left your lip, back arching to chase his tongue laving at you. 
You felt him snicker against your skin, so you glanced down to find him already smiling up at you devilishly as your nipple was caught between his teeth. You were getting tired of your shirt and bra being in the way so you made a rush to take them off. 
With the only thing left being your skirt and tights, Hongjoong took a moment to look at you. You wanted to feel self conscious, but the way his fingers skimmed your sides and touched you things couldn’t be going any slower. 
He took in a breath. “Are you sure you want to do this?” 
You nodded your head, wanting to reach for him again. 
“I need you to answer me.” His lips wobbled, almost as if he was trying to reassure himself. 
“I love you, Hongjoong.” Was all you told him. 
His lips twitched, fingers digging into your skin for just a moment as he took in your response. “I love you too, Jingle.”
You raised your hips up, moving to pull your skirt and tights down in one go as the fall breeze finally touched your heated core. There was no need for underwear when you wore tights. And it seemed like Hongjoong appreciated it a lot because he seemed to straightened up at the sigh of you. 
“I’m going to take off my pants. Okay?” He told you, pulling at his belt. 
You sat up, confused why he was shaking as he took off his pants. You began to worry maybe he didn’t want to be one with you in that way. 
“Hongjoong you don’t have to do this.” You quickly told him, sitting up. Your hands went to stop him but he lightly shoved you away. 
“I want to.” He told you. “I just–Don’t exactly look like all the others. I don’t have the same appendage as everyone else.”
“What do you mean?” You asked. 
There wasn’t exactly anything you could compare it to. It’s not like the other elves go around telling stories of their escapades or how things worked within a relationship. You only could question him. Because as far as you could tell Hongjoong, this was going to be your first time doing anything like this. 
“It has–stitches.” He cringed at the thought, which only made you frown. 
You sat up, pulling your knees under you. Your hand went to his pants, making him freeze up, his hands clenched into fists at his side. You began to pull them down, not removing the eye contact you had with him. But he was quick to look down at where you were going. 
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” You told him honestly. “But I want you to know that no matter what you have you will always be someone beautiful to me.” 
He gulped, nodding his head. “You make me feel less dead inside.”
You smiled, fingers now dancing along his shaft. He moaned out quietly, and you felt it twitch up. 
“And you give me the warmth of a thousand melting snowflakes.” You pushed to touch his lips with yours. 
You felt him move to wrap your hand around his entire length, finally feeling the ridges of the stitches he was talking about along your palm. They were on the underside of his shaft, running along the entire length. You moaned from how warm he felt in your hand. 
You thumbed at the bumps, feeling against your lips how he would groan. He took off the rest of his pants, pushing and pulling to get you in his desired position. You could feel the warmth he was giving off on your core, and it made you even more heated than you cared to admit. 
“Hongjoong…”You whispered, feeling along his scarred skin. 
“I–I’m trying my best.” He told you, holding himself up with his arms. “This is my first–”
“It’s okay.” You smiled bashfully. “It’s mine too.”
Hongjoong’s lips pulled up feeling something swell in his chest that felt much deeper than anything he could have imagined. Neither of you could think of anything better than getting the chance to be with one another in this way. It was something Hongjoong could only dream of thinking that maybe he would be viewed as something out of the ordinary. 
Hongjoong took in a deep breath, looking down between your legs before moving to touch you. The gasp you let out had him flinching but when he saw your face, he found himself wanting to touch you in places that would have you gasping and out of breath. 
But he found himself losing his own breath, noticing how sensitive the tip of his cock was as his fingers grazed both your hole and his shaft. Each time you would move your hips up just to get his cock to rub against you, he found it harder to hold off from shoving in. 
He wanted to–gosh did he want to–but he wanted to enjoy the moment for a bit more. He didn’t want to rush. He didn’t want to reach the point of cumming prematurely because he wanted this to be good for you too. 
All he had to go by was off what the others would talk about. But this was much more than a simple hook up they seemed to do when they would go out into the real world. This was someone he loved with all his being. 
“Hongjoong.” You called him. 
He looked up from his stupor, pausing when he saw your glazed over look. “Tell me if it hurts.”
You didn’t have to say anything else as he was quick to start pushing in. 
Your toes curled, your legs clenched, you could feel every little bump that came with the stitches. It was something you could never describe. You had no idea how to voice to him that you wished you were able to feel it all over again for the first time. 
Hongjoong was going in slowly, choking gasps falling from his lips as every inch that he went in was covered by a pulsing warmth. He was panting, gritting his teeth together to keep from spilling too early. 
“Hongjoong.” You gasped. 
Your back arched, hands splayed against his chest. He leaned to one side, the overwhelming feeling of pleasure taking over. He pulled on your leg to wrap around his waist. Your eyes shot open at the new position, clenching around his length. 
“How–How is it this good?” He gasped out, hand messaging into your thigh. 
His breath hit the tips of your ears, the pointed flesh flicking from the tickle. All he got in response were your whimpers and soft whines. And when you began to move your hips when he bottomed out, Hongjoong couldn’t hold it in. 
“I’m sorry.” He whispered out, smashing his lips to yours in a frenzied manner to keep you occupied while his hips began to move back and forth. 
Your blunt nails dug themselves into his shoulders, pulling at the skin which caused a stinging coming from the stitches he had there. The stinging only made him groan. His hips went faster. 
There was an inexplicable feeling that was beginning to build in the both of you that had you trying to chase it. Hongjoong’s movement became frantic, while you wiggle your hips closer to his. With each rub against his pelvis you felt an even better feeling. And each time you moved up you it felt like you would touch it. So you tried your best to chase the feeling. 
When something started to pull, your pants turned into whimpers and cries in Hongjoong’s ears. 
“(Y/N)...” Hongjoong panted, fingers digging into your leg. 
He didn’t stutter his hips this time, rather than a rhythmic movement, he was pounding in you slowly and trying to get you to cum. And when you did, Hongjoong swore you could almost cut off all circulation with how tight you felt. 
You felt everything when you clenched down and saw stars. You could feel your body becoming overstimulated and your legs began to shake. But you knew that Hongjoong still needed more so you let him continue as you panted and cried. 
And when he came you nearly cried from how primal it was for him. His hand smacked next to your head, clenching at the ground. His forehead laid against yours, your breaths mixing from all the sharp intake of breathing you were doing. He stilled his hips, allowing his length to twitch inside you as you felt a warmth spill from him. 
He sniffled, softly kissing your lips as you both came down from your high. You smiled, feeling the twitches each muscle gave out and the tiredness seeped into you. Your fingers still wanted to touch him so they lightly played along the skin of his chest. 
Finally, Hongjoong leaned to the side, falling over and pulling you close to his side. With his body off of you, you could feel the wind brush past your heated skin. 
For the first time in such a long while the cold didn’t bother you. 
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whytheylosttheirminds · 1 month ago
Text
Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 8 (part two)
(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 6.2k words)
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series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
⇢ series masterlist
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A blood curdling shriek rang through the house, jolting Carter from her restless dreams.
She sat straight up in bed, heart racing as she looked around the dark room, head so heavy she could barely remember where she was or how she got there.
In her hungover mental fog, she pieced it together slowly. She was at the beach house, in her room, it was early, she drank so much last night and Topper said -
“OH MY GOD!” 
Another sharp scream came from downstairs, and her heart rate spiked all over again. She pulled the fluffy comforter around her shoulders and hurried out of the room, quiet on the stairs as she nervously approached the source of all the commotion.
When she saw what was inducing Sabrina’s shock, she doubled back, hiding around the corner so they couldn’t see her. Her stomach churned with bitter loathing, and something else even more nauseating…
She dropped the blanket and rushed to the half-bath off the house’s entryway, doubled over the toilet bowl as last night’s poor choices continued to haunt her.
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Rafe drove faster than he had before your interrupted rendezvous, seeming not to want to drag this adventure out anymore. You eyed him nervously from the passenger seat, searching for words that weren’t coming to you. 
Tongue tied and exhausted was not how you wanted to begin this…whatever this was between you. Rafe had given you words, so many of them, back on the beach and all he asked in return was a simple yes or no.
Are you my girl?
No four words had ever felt so heavy. The shitty part was, you wanted to say yes. At the sound of his breathless question every cell in your body was screaming yes! I’m your girl! I’ve always been your girl! 
But then there was that pesky piece of self preservation that cemented itself in your heart all those years ago and didn’t plan to give up any time soon. 
He looked so disappointed when you couldn’t give him a quick and easy answer, his chest now deflated and shoulders sunken as he drove the rest of the route home. Despite your lingering hesitation, you felt like you needed to give him something, needed to lift the frown that was settled on the lips you had tasted so many times this morning.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.
“For what?” He asked.
“I’m…slow,” you began, “it takes me a while, y’know? To find the words. I’m not like you, I don’t know how you came up with that speech in less than a minute.”
Rafe laughed, confusing you.
“What?”
“You think I came up with that speech in a minute?” He chuckled, “I’ve been practicing it every day since senior year of high school.”
Your heart clenched at the endearing thought of him in front of the mirror, driving to class, taking a shower all while rehearsing what he’d say if you ever gave him the chance.
“Oh,” you tucked your hair behind your ear.
It was infuriating, your complete inability to get a grip on your own thoughts and feelings around him. It had always been this way. You were well-spoken and sound-minded, until this one person was in your atmosphere, his presence your own personal kryptonite.
To be fair to yourself, it wasn’t just your own weakness for him that had caused you to build such high walls. When you were kids, he sometimes made you feel this way on purpose. He used to have fun watching you get flustered, just the right amount of flirting to send you into a tizzy, only to leave you spinning like a top with no one to stop you.
You truly tried to leave the past behind, burying it somewhere back in the sand on the beach. You reminded yourself that the Rafe of your memories was not the one sitting next to you right now. But that might just be the problem, because at least you knew that Rafe, you knew exactly what he would do next.
If he grabbed your hand, you knew he was about to drop it. If he said something sweet, you knew he was about to say something passive aggressive. If he acted like he loved you, you knew he was about to act like he’d never met you a day in his life.
But this Rafe, this new one, was completely unpredictable. Wild and dangerous in his apparent affection for you. How were you supposed to know what he did next wasn’t going to hurt? He was right about what he said on the jet ski - you won’t know until you give him the chance. Easier said than done.
“You don’t have to say anything right now,” he offered after you’d been quiet for a long time.
“This week has just been…” trying to come up with one word to describe it felt like a futile task.
“Overwhelming?” Rafe tried to help.
“Surprising,” you countered. “I’ve never been good with surprises.”
“You like to know what’s coming next,” he nodded, once again displaying a deep knowledge of you that you never knew he possessed.
Like he could read your mind, his arm stretched across the small divide and his palm, warm and soft, settled on your thigh, a single soothing stroke to let you know he’s still here, he’s still yours. The feeling of his skin touching yours was like aloe vera directly on the burn.
With a grateful smile, you leaned back in the seat and took a deep breath as he steered you home.
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Carter padded down the hall, stopping three separate times, trying to decide if she should just go back to her own room. But the sight of her frantic texts to you still saying “delivered” and not “read” was too concerning to ignore.
She opened Topper’s door without knocking.
He was sitting up against his headboard, typing feverishly on his phone. At the sight of her, he clutched his duvet cover, pulling it up higher over his nearly naked body.
“Have you ever heard of knocking?” 
“Please, like I haven’t seen it all before. Like I didn’t see it yesterday,” she rolled her eyes.
“Oh okay, so you do remember. Based on the way you were acting last night I thought maybe you’d forgotten we’d ever been together,” he snipped at her.
“I don’t want to talk about last night,” she waved him off, dismissing his complaints flippantly, “are you aware of what’s happening downstairs right now? Of who is happening downstairs right now?”
“Yes, I saw her pull up,” he returned his attention to his phone and his frenzied typing.
Outside his cracked open door, Carter heard Kelce, Tom, and a few others come barreling up the stairs, chatting about the recent arrival.
“Be so fucking for real, did you invite her?” Carter said, attempting to lower her voice.
“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but you do this thing where you think you’re whispering and you’re actually not,” Topper informed her.
“Topper…”
“No, I didn’t invite her.,” he answered. “Actually I was about to ask if you did.”
“Why the fuck would I do that? I hate her.”
“Wow alright, hate's a strong word, Carter, maybe calm down a little.”
Ever since their knock-down-drag-out at the club last night, the arguing that was usually playful and lighthearted had an edge of actual bitterness to it.
“First of all, if you ever tell me to ‘calm down’ again, I’m going full Lorena Bobbitt on your ass. Second of all, you need to go down there and tell her to leave,” she flicked her hair behind her shoulder and held her chin up as she bossed him around. He hated that despite how mad at her he was, he fucking loved it.
“How does that job possibly fall on me?” He scoffed.
“Aren’t you Mr. Team Rafe-and-my-sister? Don’t you want to get rid of the reason they stopped talking in the first place?” She reasoned.
“I’m not gonna tell her she can’t be here,” he shut her down. “It’s not my house, and it’s really none of my business. Or yours.”
Her eyes narrowed at him, “oh yeah? Then who are you texting so much over there?”
“I’m just giving him a head’s up,” he shrugged. “She should probably know too.”
“And you’re just assuming they’re together?” She snarled.
“Puh-lease,” he rolled his eyes, “did you see them at the club last night? There’s no way they didn’t hook up.”
She wouldn’t accept it, couldn’t, even though she knew somewhere deep in her gut that he was probably right. 
When Rafe still didn’t answer any of his texts, Topper sighed heavily, “fuck it, I don’t care if I’m cockblocking, I’m calling him.”
Before he could dial, the house shook with the slam of the front door. Carter and Topper hurried out to the hall and hesitated at the top of the steps. Your lone voice carried up to them, talking to no one in particular as you muttered, “un-fucking-belivable.”
Carter actually did whisper this time, “I think it might be too late for that…”
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The feeling of Rafe’s hand, warm and steady on your thigh, as he drove the rest of the route home was so nice and comforting, you let yourself slip into the possibility that this could actually be it. Maybe you really could just leave the past behind you, maybe you really had finally found each other and it could just be simple like this.
But your fantasy didn’t last long.
Rafe parked in the spot across the street that you had taken Carter’s car from a few hours ago. Even when he turned the key and cut the engine, he didn’t remove his hand from your leg. 
“You ready?” He sighed.
“For what?” You questioned, eyeing him curiously, his face serious as he looked down at the site of his hand on your skin.
He shook his head like he didn’t know the answer himself, “reality, I guess.”
You placed your hand over his, smirking at the sight of your fingers encompassing each other’s, wanting so much more from these hands and truly believing you’d have all the time in the world to enjoy them. 
“Bring it on,” you gave him a small smile.
“He leaned across the center console and dropped a deep kiss to your lips, causing you to sigh into his mouth. All the times you imagined kissing him, you never thought such a rough-around-the-edges guy would have such soft lips. You felt like you might be able to spend forever with them on your skin.
When he finally pulled away, you reached for the handle of your door, beginning to open it, but Rafe reached across your body and pulled it shut again.
“What are you doing?” You asked in surprise.
He smiled that perfect, dimpled grin of his, “extra credit.”
You giggled as he hurried to climb out of the driver’s side, hurrying around to your door and opening it with a chivalrous flair.
“Wow,” you beamed, accepting his hand as he helped you down from the tall vehicle. “You weren’t kidding about trying to be a gentleman.”
“For you, I’ll be anything,” he flirted.
Despite your best efforts not to, you blushed, the red hue on your cheeks deepening when Rafe kept your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours as you walked back to the house. It was the first time he’d held your hand out in the open like this, where anyone could look out from the windows of the beach house and see the two of you together. It was foreign to you, his public display of affection, and yet it felt so right. You couldn’t help but wish it hadn’t taken this long.
“Can I ask you something?” You said quietly.
“Anything,” he squeezed your hand assuringly. 
“Why didn’t we do this a long time ago?” 
Rafe’s face fell slightly, watching his feet as they made less and less forward progress on the sidewalk, until he came to a full stop. The question was mostly meant to be lighthearted, a tease really, but his solemn reaction made your stomach twist with concern.
“I…” he started, voice unsteady, not meeting your eyeline, “I don’t know if I should tell you this but -”
You never knew what he wasn’t supposed to tell you, because before he could, a sickeningly familiar voice called out from the front porch.
“Hey guys!”
Head snapping toward the sound, you looked up, and there she was, as stunning as ever in that same signature everything-you’re-not-ness. 
Cassie Bryant.
Her face was adorned with a glistening smile, yours was noticeably not. Everything in you sunk, including the corners of your lips, completely unable to hide the way your heart dropped six feet under the ground at the sight of her.
She was somehow even more golden and glowing now than she was back then. Glossy blonde hair flowing down her back like a waterfall of silk. Her perfect, blemish free skin glowed in the early morning light. Her big, round Disney Princess eyes quickly found Rafe and flicked over your joined hands, clocking the way they were folded together in unmistakable intimacy.
It happened so quickly, and yet it felt like years worth of hurt and heartache compacted into one small moment. 
At the sight of Cassie on the porch, Rafe dropped your hand.
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Surely, any minute now, a camera crew would pop out from the bushes and announce that you were being Punk’d.
Or maybe it’d be the Mythbusters:
The myth? That you can actually heal from your childhood trauma with just four years of painstaking hard work. Well, we’re about to prove that all of that can be unraveled in the span of 72 hours! Also, we will be using your heart as our crash test dummy. Myth busted!
You didn’t look over at Rafe, couldn’t bear to watch the way he pulled his body away from yours, ever-so-slightly, almost imperceptibly. But you could feel it all the same, and you were sure she could too. 
Before Cassie could say anything else, the front door opened behind her, Sabrina stepping out of the house and taking in the unfolding scene on the lawn.
“Oh shit,” she laughed, “this is awkward!”
It’s like her main goal in life was to find new and creative ways to make your bad moments worse.
“Is it?” Cassie asked, seemingly unaware of the cause of Sabrina’s laughter. “We were just saying hi.”
She caught your eye as she said it, a polite but knowing smile on her lips. You realized with shock that she absolutely knew what was happening and was trying to make you feel better about it. You should just be grateful for the unexpected kindness, but something in you was suspicious. The Cassie you knew would’ve jumped at the chance to embarrass you, and she would’ve loved the way Rafe was treating you like you had the plague.
Plus, her taking pity on you, acknowledging the way Rafe had just hurt you, was somehow worse than her just being mean to you. You’d rather she go back to that.
“Y’all having a good trip?” She asked you and Rafe when the silence had lasted just a little too long.
You looked to Rafe, waiting for him to answer, begging him silently to say something that indicated that you were in fact having a good trip…together.
But he just said, “it’s been cool. Weather’s shit, though.”
“Yeah that’s what Sab told me, but I got a few days off my internship so I thought I’d come hang with y’all,” she said, eyes on you as she spoke, like she owed you an explanation.
“Well, welcome, then,” you smiled a polite smile that didn’t meet your eyes.
“You ready?” Sabrina asked, linking arms with Cassie, thick as thieves. 
“We’re going into town for some brunch if you guys want to join,” Cassie offered.
“That’s okay, I need to check on Carter,” you declined, all eyes turning to Rafe for his response.
“Uh yeah, I’m good here, th-thanks,” he stuttered, so awkward and shaky, a completely different person from the guy who was delivering monologues and sweeping you off your feet just a few hours ago.
Cassie just smiled politely once more as Sabrina pulled her into the car. As they drove off, you stood wordlessly with Rafe on the front walk, your chest completely hollow. You mustered some nerve and finally looked at him, head tilted, a completely unamused smile tugging your lips.
“Weather’s shit?” You repeated his words back to him.
“Look…” he began but didn’t finish the thought.
You just laughed humorlessly, shaking your head at him as you stormed off toward the house. Rafe stood frozen for a moment, kicking himself mentally and begging his brain to catch up with the moment, finally rushing off after you, but not able to before you slammed the door in his face.
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Carter and Topper exchanged nervous glances at the sound of you stomping into the house. 
They slowly and quietly settled on the top step, sitting forward to listen in as the front door opened and closed again, Rafe’s voice echoing through the house.
“Wait…” he said, following after you as you marched further into the house toward the kitchen.
You didn’t stop, “No, go ahead, you should go to brunch with her. Don’t let me keep you from a good time.”
“Wait, let’s just talk,” he pleaded.
“I’m too tired, Rafe,” you rejected him. “I can’t do this right now.”
“So you’re not even gonna let me explain?”
At the top of the steps, Carter and Topper simultaneously held their breath as they listened, both jumping as Kelce’s voice startled them, “what are we listening to?”
“Shhh,” Carter waved her hand at him, motioning for him to shut up.
Kelce plopped himself between them on the top step, shuffling a bit so they’d make room for him. He listened in, picking up your and Rafe’s raised voices quickly.
“Oh shit,” he barely whispered, “trouble in paradise already?”
“Dude shut up,” Topper cut him off.
Soon, Maddie, Tom and Jack joined the little huddle on the top step, each cluing in on the source of the entertainment in their own disruptive way before being shushed by the group and eventually sitting. You continued your argument with Rafe, completely unaware you were performing in front of a live studio audience.
“You don’t need to explain,” you told him, trudging down the front hall toward the kitchen. “I know exactly what just happened because it’s happened a thousand times before. What I don’t know is why I’m even surprised.”
“Come on,” he caught up to you, stopping you in your tracks as his large frame rounded you. “It is not the same as it used to be.”
“It’s exactly the same,” you side-stepped him, walking into the kitchen and dropping Carter’s keys on the counter. “I mean jesus Rafe, it’s the same fucking person! I can’t believe I’m here again, it’s like I’m having a nightmare where I’m back in high school. Next thing you know I’m gonna walk into homeroom and I realize I’m completely naked.”
“Sounds more like a dream to me,” he smirked, trying to flirt.
You just blinked back at him, your sharp eyes cutting straight through his head.
“Do you think this is funny?”
His smirk dropped, snatched right off his lips by your ice cold tone. Good. You’d been waiting years to wipe that shit eating grin off his face. 
Something new was rising in your chest, knocking out the embarrassment and sadness with a closed fist, a fury long buried coming back with a vengeance.
“I thought all that shit was behind us, over and done.” Rafe reached out towards you but you stopped him with your own rough grip, lowering his hand away from you and dropping it like he’d dropped yours.
“Oh, it’s fucking done alright, so fucking done,” you spat.
 “You’re really gonna let ten stupid seconds ruin everything that’s happened between us? You’re not even gonna give me the benefit of the doubt. You really think that little of me?”
“It’s literally only been two hours, and you’ve already lied to me once and pushed me away the second someone saw us. And you wonder why I'm having a hard time saying yes to being with you? It’s because I fucking can’t trust you, Rafe!”
“I don’t know what else I can do to show you I’m different,” he threw his hands up in exasperation. “This is so fucking unfair.”
“Are you being fucking serious right now?” You stepped towards him as you snapped at him. “You’re actually pissed at me?”
“Yeah, I am!” 
“Why?”
“Because I lost my best friend!”
Everyone on the top of the stairs winced, air sucked from the room when Rafe raised his voice at you. For all his flaws and mistreatment, he had never raised his voice at you before.
“Oh shit,” Kelce whispered.
“Shhh!” Carter and Maddie hushed him in unison, everyone leaning in a little closer to hear how you’d react. But you said nothing. They couldn’t see the widening of your eyes, jaw locked tight as you gave him space to follow up on his outburst.
“Do you really think it didn’t hurt me when you just up and stopped talking to me back then?” He took the space you gave him and slowly unpacked the hurt feelings he’d buried for years. “I know I was a dick, I shouldn’t have taken advantage of how you felt about me, I shouldn’t have strung you along. But when that shit went down senior year and you just ghosted me, I wanted to talk to you and make it right. I tried, but you blocked me out, you went from talking to me every day to radio silence without giving me a single explanation. That fucking hurt. And you’re doing the exact same thing now, not even giving me a chance to explain things. So yeah, I am a little pissed. I’m pissed that you’re just gonna throw it all away again over nothing.”
He waited for your response with baited breath, prepared for you to yell, or cry, or do something. But you gave him nothing, mouth closed in a tight line as you turned on your heel and walked further into the kitchen, lifting the coffee pot from its home and filling it in the sink.
He watched your back as you scooped the grounds into the filter and turned on the machine. Minutes passed and you remained silent, hands on the counter, looking out the big window towards the ocean while the coffee brewed one drop at a time.
Finally, after eight cups had dripped into the pot, you spoke.
“How was prom, by the way?” You turned to face him, the edge of the marble countertop digging into your waist as you leaned back against it, hands crossed in hostility over your chest. “I never asked.”
Rafe’s gaze fell from you almost instantly. He didn’t have to ask why you were bringing this up, the ‘hell hath no fury’ look on your face dragging the memory forth from its carefully hidden spot in the back of his brain. Nothing made him feel like a jackass quite like that memory, and based on the mocking curve at the corner of your lips, you knew it.
The memory used to keep you up at night. 
For a full year after it happened, it was like a fire poker bent into the shape of regret and shame was branding your heart over and over. 
Now, the burn was healed over, still calloused and red at the edges, but you’d done your best to cover the scar tissue in the healing balms of self-love and lots and lots of therapy. Still, it was the moment in your life you were the least proud of.
You’d thought it was gonna be you. Really, earnestly, completely delusionally, you believed when he asked for your help with his grand prom-posal that it was all a playful ruse to ask you to be his date. You stayed up all night, decorating three different poster boards with glitter glue so he could pick the one he liked best. You bought out all the battery-powered candles at Michael’s - he said he’d pay you back, he never did. You waited with him in the park until the sun set, giddy with the hope that he’d drop the ruse and pop the question any minute.
“What will you do if ‘she’ says no?” You attempted to flirt.
“I guess I’d just have to take you.”
Every muscle in his body flinched at the memory and the white hot regret he felt every time it replayed in his head.
The kid who said those words was such an asshole. Standing here in the kitchen, looking down at you, the love of his goddamn life, and facing the possibility that he might lose you for good, he wanted to ring the idiot’s neck.
Because he hadn’t asked you. He made you watch while he asked her. And he didn’t even give you a ride home from the park.
Fuck, he wouldn’t forgive himself if he was you, either.
Rafe felt about two feet tall, looking back at you with absolutely nothing to say. He was relieved for a second when you opened your mouth to speak first, until he heard the words.
“You don’t understand. The voice in the back of my head, the one I’ve spent years trying to silence, the one that tells me I’m not enough, that I’ll never be enough…it’s your voice, Rafe.”
He grasped desperately for a reply, but there were no words in the English language that made that statement any less devastating.
“Maybe that’s not fair,” you continued before he could come up with anything, “but I don’t think I have control over that. I don’t know how to undo it, if it can be undone. So those ten seconds that just happened out there? They’re  not nothing to me. When you dropped my hand at the sight of her, I felt like I was that stupid teenage girl again, giving my whole heart to the one person who knows how to break it. Blind and foolish and desperate for you to notice her. I don’t like that girl.”
You made it through the whole speech with a steady voice, up until the last sentence. Your voice cracked on those words, your heart doing the same as you pictured your younger self. The one who would sit on her bed for hours, rereading the texts she sent him and praying he’d reply.
Thinking about that version of yourself, you weren’t sure if you wanted to hug her or slap her. Surely, she’d hit you right back if she saw what you were doing now, potentially pushing away the boy she loved more than anything, finally having him within your grasp and letting him slip right through.
At the top of the stairs, unbeknownst to you, Carter was picturing that girl, too. She would roll her eyes at you back then, using sarcastic comments like “are you sure Rafe even knows how to read?” to mask her truer concern; that he could but he wouldn’t, and the heart you wore on your sleeve would end up crushed again. Even now, she couldn’t protect it, couldn’t save it from reaching out to this boy who did nothing but break it.
Frustration welled inside her, the absolute powerlessness to put an end to this cycle that hurts you feeling like a dark cloud over her head. The anger manifested into hot, watery tears gathering on her lash line. Without permission, one slipped through, rolling down her cheek slowly.
Topper caught the whole thing, and despite their fight and his resolve to freeze her out until she apologized, he couldn’t stop his hand from reaching out and stroking her cheek softly, wiping the tear away with a gentle swipe of his thumb.
They shared a look so full of unspoken words and tender emotions that they almost forgot about the conversation in the kitchen, until Rafe’s voice cut through the moment and pulled them from their silent reconciliation.
“Are you okay?” He asked you after you’d been silent for nearly a minute, trying desperately to compose yourself.
“Yes, that's all just a lot. I’m processing,” you sniffled.
“Take your time,” he said, pulling out one of the high back stools from the counter and motioning for you to sit in it.
Your body was so exhausted, even your stubborn anger at him couldn’t stop you from accepting the offer. You slumped on the plush stool, folding your arms on the counter and resting your chin on them.
“How do you like your eggs?” Rafe asked.
“Is that a pick-up line?” 
“Nope, just a question,” he said as he opened the high cupboard and pulled out a frying pan.
You tried to remind yourself you should reject his offer to feed you, you should storm out, you should tell him where he can put his frying pan…but you were hungry. And so tired.
“Sunny side up,” you answered.
He nodded and got to work cooking you breakfast, eggs and bacon sizzling on the stove, Rafe close by with a spatula in hand, silent as he stirred and flipped. You rested your head on your folded arms, eyes half-closed and brain sleepy, watching him. 
If you blocked out the last twenty minutes, you could pretend this morning was your real life, could let yourself imagine it really was all this simple and pleasant and sweet; he’d cook you breakfast, you’d make him coffee, and you’d kiss until the sun rose.
At the top of the stairs, Kelce stood and started descending, before Carter reached up and grabbed his arm.
“What are you doing?” She whispered.
“I’m hungry!” He whined.
“You can’t go down there,” Maddie scolded him, “give them some space.”
“Are we just gonna stay up here all day?” Tom complained as he and Jack stood to join Kelce’s crusade into the kitchen.
“Everybody sit down!” Topper whisper-yelled. “Give them five fucking minutes, you’ll all survive. You can fuck off back to your rooms if you want but no one’s going down there.”
Carter couldn’t help the heart eyes she made at him, surprised and delighted by his show of aggression in your defense.
Kelce groaned as he backed back down, Tom rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up as he trudged down the hall back to his room, Jack following with a huff.
“Kelce, I have a granola bar in my purse, c’mon,” Maddie offered, leading him towards her own door.
Alone again, Topper and Carter looked at each other for a long, quiet moment.
“I’m sorry,” she mouthed.
“I know,” he mouthed back.
She scooted towards him, nuzzling into his side as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing her temple.
Downstairs, Rafe was done with your meal, scooping it onto a plate and sliding it to you across the counter.
“Thank you,” you sat up and began nibbling at a slice of bacon.
Rafe took the stool next to you with his own plate of food. You sat in silence for a while, only the sound of forks scraping against porcelain and the occasional “can you pass the salt?” between you.
Between bites, you rested your head on your arm again, nearly falling asleep.
“I’m so tired,” you mumbled sleepily.
“It’s been a long twenty-four hours,” Rafe agreed, taking a sip of his coffee.
“That’s an understatement,” you snorted, sitting up again and finishing the last bite of your eggs.
“What about…the next twenty-four hours?” He asked quietly.
You took a deep breath, the smile falling from your face as you considered the question underneath his question. You didn’t answer him right away, hopping down from the stool and collecting your plate and his, carrying them to the sink. Rafe was quick behind you, arm reaching around and pulling the dishes from your hands to lay them in the sink. His hand rested on your waist, turning you to face him, pulling you in. Reluctantly, and without returned tenderness, you let him.
“Rafe, I can’t…” you said sadly.
“Please just talk to me,” he pleaded, hands running up your arms and resting on your shoulders. You shook your head, blinking away fresh tears as you pulled away from him.
“It hurts too much, Rafe,” your voice cracked. “As great as the last few days have been, you can’t see that being close to you hurts me. I worked so hard to get over you. So this isn’t me throwing it all away, this is me protecting myself. Protecting what I’ve spent years rebuilding.”
“So what, that's it then? You’re just gonna go back to school and pretend this never happened?” The pain in his voice was palpable, and you cursed the part of you that wanted to reach out and make him feel better.
“I don’t know, Rafe,” a small tear slipped through, gliding slowly down your cheek.
“You’re just gonna stop talking to me, stop thinking about me?” He continued desperately.
You looked up at him finally, searching his face, nodding sadly.
“I’ve done it before.”
Hurt flashed in his crystal blue eyes, flinching like your words had burned him. “You didn’t…you don’t…think about me?”
“No,” you told him honestly, another tear joining the one before it. “Never. Because if I let myself think about you, I would’ve fallen apart. I’m not strong enough, I would’ve run to you, and every time I did that before, you’d let me down.”
“What about yesterday? What about this morning? Just think about the beach, everything was so good, it can be that way now…”
He reached out and cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing over the tears as he pulled you in toward him, kissing you out of sheer desperation. Like maybe if you tasted his lips, it’d transport you both back in time, back to the beach, back when he’d done and said everything right. 
You allowed him to take you there for just a second, before the incident on the front walk flashed in your mind again, the pain of rejection like a knife to your gut. You pulled away from him quickly, side stepping him and moving to the other side of the kitchen, creating as much distance between you as possible.
“No, no, you can’t just kiss me and act like what just happened with Cassie didn’t happen,” you shook your head rapidly, wiping your tear stained streaks with the backs of your hands. “I can’t do this right now, I need some time to think.”
It required fighting every impulse he had, but he didn’t push, didn’t close the space between you, didn’t try to regain the control he was so used to having. He just sighed deeply and nodded, eyes low.
“Okay, well let me know when you’re done…thinking.”
With one last longing look at you, he stepped away to the basement steps, stopping at the top and turning halfway toward you.
“Oh and that girl? The one who gave me her heart? For what it’s worth, I like her. Always have.”
With that, he was gone, the door clicking softly behind him.
Carter and Topper could hear you approach the bottom of the steps. Carter stood first, fully ready to greet you and grill you on everything that had happened since you last spoke. Topper could see all her questions and comments written on her face. He grabbed her hand and squeezed gently, stopping her before she marched down the stairs towards you. She looked at him in surprise but understood quickly as he gave her a slight shake of his head, whispering, “give her some space.”
Reluctantly, she nodded, allowing him to lead her quietly down the hall and into his room.
Your footsteps were heavy on the stairs, body aching. Your brain was so fried you couldn’t even pick one thing from the morning to focus on, like the part of your brain that processes events was temporarily out of order. So you stopped trying to think and just let your feet carry you to your bed, crawling under the covers in your clothes, falling quickly into a restless slumber.
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In your dreams, you were back in the kitchen with him, shoulder to shoulder in comfortable silence as you did the dishes together. Rafe washed and you dried. 
Only, it wasn’t the beach house kitchen, it was one you’d never been in before. And in that dream-state way of knowing something you don’t actually know, you were sure it was a kitchen the two of you shared, sometime in the distant, unwritten future.
(chapter 9: part one)
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a/n: I'm so sorry, I had to do it.......also the prom thing may or may not be based on a true story and I may or may not have cried writing it....
also I’m sick and tired so I didn’t edit much sorry for typos!
please note: the taglist for this series is closed. For updates when I post, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs <3
friendly reminder that writers live off of reblogs, don’t forget to feed your faves! 💘
2K notes · View notes
seilon · 1 year ago
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wow ok that’s the quickest I’ve ever had my application thrown out. super cool
0 notes
livelaughlovesubs · 3 months ago
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~ 07.10 - Nikolai ~
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Dom!reader x sub!Enemy!nikolai - reader is gender neutral
Warning: sounding, edging, a bit orgasm denial, consent is kinda questionable, hair pulling, dacryphilia, begging, scratching, cum play, cum eating, violence, dick slapping, marking, pinching, bruises, mind break, sub space, teasing, use of pet name ‘good boy’, Nikolai being a masochist
~ Word count: 4.9k ~
Nini!rant: The idea’s from an anon and @me1z0 ! Ty guys~
Kinktober list 2024
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The walls were damp, and green moss crept up the corners of the lifeless cell. It was dark and grey, rid of anything interesting, not even a lamp was present in this room. Instead, the light emerged from a huge window on one side of the wall, its weak lighting barely lit up his cell. Other than that, there was a sturdy door along with an equally strong chair. The chair was placed in the middle of this prison out of stone, and on top of it sat a white-haired male who wore tight clothes. His hair was loose and it reached the floor, his hands were tied carefully behind the chair and a grin spread across his lips.
Sounds of footsteps echoed throughout the tranquil room. They were rhythmic, eager, and firm, he could already guess who it was. What followed next was the loud slam of the heavy door. It got yanked open within seconds and a person emerged from the frame, then the passage shut tight again, destroying any chance of escaping. Your eyes scanned his room, eyeing him up and down suspiciously, trying to read his thoughts. That proved to be more difficult than desired since he was still keeping a psychotic expression under such circumstances, not caring about how he was being perceived.
You could basically smell the moisture in the air, how damp and humid it was. It wasn't an exactly pleasant smell, but neither of you seemed to be bothered by it. Slowly you made your way to the center, dragging another chair behind you. With a swift move, you positioned it before him and sat down comfortably, crossing your arms. After waiting for a while, you scoffed, “Not gonna say anything, jester?” He has always been like this. Unpredictable, illogical, and drop-dead annoying.
He laughed, before raising his head to stare at you. His eyes were heterochromia, they somehow appeared creepy, causing you to feel uneasy. “My, I get to have the first word?” Nikolai chirped, looking totally unfazed by the whole situation. “Go ahead, ask away, I can’t guarantee an answer though.” You replied, slumping back against the lean. Finally, after all this time, you managed to catch this clown of a man. It’s not that you failed previously, rather, he kept escaping with his bothersome ability and nullifying handcuffs didn’t seem to work well on him.
But you learned from your mistakes and perfected your plan repeatedly to get to this point. Since he needs his coat to activate it, simply removing it should suffice. On top of it you also had to prevent him from creating a new makeshift coat, hence the tight clothes and lack of sharp objects. “How nice you are, is it because we’ve been acquaintances for so long?” The male chuckled, and you slammed your fist against your chair, cracking it slightly. A few scratches remained on your skin, though you didn't notice the supposed pain. The man thought your vein was going to pop from how tight you bawled your hands.
“Don’t refer to us so intimately.” You snapped then continued with, “You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass. It seems you don’t have anything important to say. My turn to pose questions.” After threatening him a little, he immediately yelled, “Hey! Don’t be so mean~ We do have a long history after all.” You listened to his complaints, to which you responded, “I’m not proud of that.” A fake sigh left his throat as he winced, “I’m so hurt~ then lemme ask, you wanna play some games before the interrogation?” Again with his unreasonable antics, you could feel your lifespan shortening whenever he opens his mouth.
No normal human would ask something this out of pocket while being interrogated after all, he was a special case in the worst sense possible. Someone deserving of the tightest surveillance for his creative methods. Yet you knew better than to question his motives because there’s simply no logic behind it other than what his twisted mind can come up with.
“No, it’s not the time for games and chitchat. My turn now.” He pouted at your answer, calling you a killjoy under his breath or avoiding your gaze. Such a childish man, how did someone like this get an ability? You furrowed your brows before interrogating him, “Tell me, who do you work for?” Nikolai tilted his head to the side, smiling innocently. “Why don’t you guess?”
Within a fraction of a second, you pulled out a gun and pointed it towards his head. You growled, patience running thin with each passing moment, “I don’t want to repeat myself, jester-” Despite the threat and importance of the situation, he interrupted you, correcting your choice of vocabulary with sarcasm, “Not jester, I’m a clown.” It was obviously just to spite you, look at him playing petty games. The corners of your lips twitched into an intimidating smile, eyebrows raised as you snapped, “Is that so? Then pardon my rudeness.”
He didn’t look nervous, eyes on the muzzle of the gun as he replied, “Such a brute you are, this is no fun at all.” Then the male exaggerated a sigh again, moving his head back to the point you could see the bottom of his chin before he turned back to stare at you, “Fiiiine, I’m a member of a terrorist organization, the decay of angels- or was it the death of angels? I don’t remember~” Nikolai joked, watching you in awe as your anger threatened to boil over. He could swear he saw smoke coming out. Your hand tightened around the weapon, gritting your teeth as you listened to him yap. It was time for the next question, that’s why you asked, “What are your motives?”
“Motives? Each of us has our own reasons. As for mine… don’t you know me well enough to have a hunch?" He taunted, his tone had a layer of mockery hidden behind it and his eyes suggested the same thing. This overconfidence of his was going to be his downfall. “Who can ever know what’s going on inside that brain of yours.” You spit back at him, a fierce look plastered on your face, unwilling to lose. “Are you saying you can’t fathom my thought process?” When he said that, it hit a nerve inside you. Was he calling you stupid?
“Then let’s make it into a quiz! If you can guess about 50% correctly, I’ll tell you everything.” He suggested a guessing game again, and you couldn’t help but click your tongue in annoyance, “Tsk, your iconic quizzes again. What happens if I lose?” The boy squeezed his eyes shut, seemingly deep in thought before chirping, “Absolutely nothing! It’s a win-win situation for you!” That was unexpected, you thought. After much contemplation, you eventually agreed, “Alright, I’ll consider this your last wish.”
You stared at his face, trying to recall all the information you had on him. He was a carefree, reckless, and dangerous man. Words like cold-hearted, crazy, and apathetic could also work. Was there more to him? It was hard to believe there’d be any reason behind his actions, considering the gruesome ways he killed. “You are a sadist who enjoys killing innocent people, which is why you joined a terrorist group. Also, you are a fucking maniac." Despite you outright spitting insults at him, he didn’t stop smiling and stayed calm. But a faint breath of disappointment stuck to his never leaving smirk, as if he was saying ‘told you’.
“Eh ehh, sadly that’s wrong~ I don’t actually enjoy killing people.” He admitted, wearing a sorry look on his face. “Who knows if you are lying or not.” You spat, eying him up and down with a skeptical look. “Do you have sooo little faith in me?” Nikolai tilted his head to one side, giggling and enjoying your baffled expression. “I’ll give you one more chance then, or old times sake!” He said as if he pitied you. Of course, this agitated you, how can he act like he has the upper hand when he’s your prisoner?
“Is someone forcing you? Not that your sentence would lessen.” Since you’ve been presented with another chance, you proposed a different answer but were met with the same response. “Also wrong! No one is forcing me, as I’m striving to achieve true freedom~” The boy sang the last part, like an eccentric, enjoying the situation even. His words or hints, no matter what he said, didn’t make any sense to you.
For you, these were sentences without any connections, or you had too little background knowledge to grasp the concept. Though you knew he wasn't all that dumb, well, to some degree. “Now, guess, how much of it was the truth?” Nikolai announced, a sheepish, amused grin spreading on his lips. How he loves to play mind games and to annoy you. “Now you know why I don’t trust you. You only talk in riddles.” You mumbled under your breath, taking your gun back while his gaze followed the weapon.
Once more, he found it boring how little reaction you had, calling you boring in his mind. “Not gonna kill me anymore?” The white-haired boy asked instead, raising his chin high in the air. “You know the answer.” With a sigh you rolled your eyes, he was smarter than this, he knew his worth as a hostage and source of information. It’d be a waste to have him dead already, and exactly because of these reasons you were annoyed beyond measure. If it wasn’t for the rules and regulations, you’d had his head rolling by now. “Consider yourself lucky.” You scoffed with an eye roll, standing up and walking towards him.
With his curiosity peaked, he waited impatiently, were you finally going to make a move? The uncertainty clutched his racing heart in a tight grip, feelings of unknown origins emerging from the depths of his consciousness. “You are getting excited. I wonder how long you can laugh, clown.” Much to your dismay, his eyes sparkled as he uttered, “Wahhh~ You remembered?! I guess all that time spent with you wasn’t for nothing!” Yeah, you shouldn’t have done him that favor, someone like him didn’t deserve any shred of kindness. He’d only use it against you in the end.
Without listening to him any longer you leaned over, pulling his pants and underwear down only enough to take out his cock. A slight blush crept onto his cheeks, he jerked when you touched his member. “H-huh..? What’s going on?” The tremble in his voice was apparent as his pupils followed your hands, arousal building inside him. This was an unexpected turn of events, was there more to your cold facade-? “Don’t get the wrong idea, it’s a torture method.” You smiled at him, a reassuring smirk dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh? Are you really gonna use such underhanded methods to make me speak?" Nikolai tried to bargain with you, all while doing his utmost to appear unaffected. In the end, he was all about having the act of an unpredictable clown. "No need to get frightened, I'm sure you'll come to enjoy it, considering your personality."
After listening to your prediction, he was almost eager to know what you were going to do, leaning forward to get closer to you. A slight pout on his lips as he thought sharply about what you had in store for him. His binds were uncomfortable and forced him to stay put, causing him to try and break them for a while, before slumping back into his seat, giving up on the idea of escaping. The boy sighed unsatisfied as he mumbled, "Alright, show me what you have in mind."
The two of you may be enemies, and your organization is not all that innocent either, yet you made sure to use enough lube on him. You didn't want to hurt him in that way, it seemed a bit too cruel. Minutes later, you covered his entire lower body with it, bathing his dick in lubricant. Afterward, you pulled out a thin metal rod and smeared it in lube as well. The way his expression twisted the moment he saw your little surprise for him was satisfying, to say the least. How his pupils shrunk ever so slightly and hands gripped the binds tighter, enough to bruise his own wrists, all while a hint of fear or lust built inside him. This was definitely going to be a new experience, one that he won't ever forget.
“Can you guess what I'll do with this?" You asked him, teasingly, to rile him up and make his emotions explode. "You are going to fuck me up with it, aren't cha?" Nikolai grinned widely, sweat dripping down his cheeks while he spread his legs a little further apart to grant you more access. It was also to signalize you that he was ready for it. “Since you know what this is for, I won't need to explain." You commented and held it elegantly as if you knew what you were doing, preparing the tool as well.
His breathing hitched at the sight of it, somehow watching your fingers work so diligently made his heart race. Then you lined the rounded end of the rod with the slit from his dick, slowly pushing the tip inside. On the other hand, Nikolai closed his eyes, biting his lip, and trying his best to not trash around. He could feel the toy stretching him from the inside, poking at places he never explored before.
Small whines escaped his thinly pressed lips, sounding like the painful groan of a hurt animal. "Nghh... d-dammit... ah." The man cursed as you pushed more of it in, cheeks flushed red as his dick got hard, leaking some pearly precum already. You could see the struggle just by looking at his body language, how he trembled and shook, sweating so furiously. A sense of arousal coursed through you at seeing this new, unfamiliar side of his. To think he could pull such an erotic face, watching him try to hold himself back was more than entertaining.
"Can you even take this?" You asked playfully, testing him. His eyes opened just enough to glare at you, squeezing out a 'of course' before going back to his muffled moans. You let him keep his pride for now, and focused on pushing more of the pole in, saying, "Fine, as you wish then." With each millimeter that was entering him, his blush darkened and his voice turned louder. At some point, his eyes became teary and his dumb grin returned. "Hmm!! Uh-uhgghh~ ah.. so rough, h-how much more...?" You could swear you heard some desperation in his voice, licking your lips before answering, "We are halfway there, be a big boy and take it~"
Then you used a little more strength than before to penetrate him, ending with him losing control and screaming your name with such ecstasy, "yyY/NN!! NggGHh~! Ahh it hurts, hurts so m-much ♡♥︎" Even though he was complaining, his expression was a totally different one. He was enjoying it, so much that his cock twitched while leaking twice the amount as before. God, he could swear he almost came in that moment, and he was sure you knew it too. "I didn't expect you to actually enjoy it this so soon." You chuckled, sticking your index finger through the ring at the other end to have a better grip.
The male in front of you was already a twitching mess, gaze unfocused as he stared at his own crotch, watching his dirty fluids seep out of himself. His voice hitched and he gulped loudly, whimpering at the slightest movements, "Nghh~ uh-uhmmf!" You waited until his excessive emotions calmed down a bit, then gave him a quick warning, "M' gonna move now." Before slowly using your finger to pull the rod out of his cock. "W-wait.. aaAAhHHH ♡~"
He threw his head back almost immediately, tongue rolling out while bawling his hands, his grip on the binds were strong enough for his knuckles to turn white. This time he couldn't hold back and trashed his legs around, which is why you put your hand on his soft thighs and pressed down, stopping him. "Don't move now dear, or I might break something I shouldn't." You warned him, pushing the toy back inside him. "MHhhh!! Ah-oohHH, i-is this supposed to be the to-torture?" Nikolai sneered behind broken sobs, those pretty tears finally spilled from his eye sockets.
"Concentrate on not passing out first, or this game will get boring,” you told him, tracing circles on his inner thighs to calm him down. He listened to you with defiance, obviously not happy with your answer. But all those thoughts were pushed aside the moment your hand began moving again. There's only one problem, you were painfully slow. It took so long for you to stick it in or to pull it out. Sure, it was still stimulating, but he needed more than that. He wanted you to be rougher, to really torture him. Oh if only you knew what a- "y/nnn~ please g-go faster? The Pain feels g-good ♡!" ...a masochist he was. Well, now you know.
"Such a perverted slut, boys like you don't get to tell me what to do." You snarled, pushing the whole thing inside again and grabbing his gland with your fingers. Crawling at it with your nails, scratching the skin. "AaaAAAHH..!! Y/n y/n!! H-hurt so much~!" Nikolai let out a scream akin moan, head thrown back and arching his back, all while his charming voice graced your ears. He was very loud, but his whines and sounds of pleasure were adorable, enough to serve as encouragement for you to continue.
"Why don't you stop the joking and tell me everything then, sir Clown?" You teased him, letting go of his dick not due to some pity, but rather because you wanted to try something else. This time, you spun the sounding rod around while it was still placed inside him, rubbing against his urethra and watching his face twist into some erotic expressions straight out of a porno. Eyes rolling back, hair sticking to his forehead and bouncing around, drool running down his chin.
All his blood was coursing to his cheeks or lower abdomen, precum getting everywhere and wetting everything. There was a puddle on the ground beneath him, and it only grew in size. "NGhh~ oOOhh, y/n it f-feels MHh! I-I can't, no m-more, please haaahHH♡♥︎" For a split second you were concerned if you went too far, yet all worries vanished the moment you saw the blissful expression he had. How his tongue hung out like a lewd doggy, figure shaking uncontrollably. "Oh god? Are you sure you want me to stop?" You asked him with raised brows and blatant irony, now changing your actions again. This time you moved it in and out of him as fast as you could, fucking into him, watching his pre gushing out like a fountain whenever it went deep inside him.
"HMnnGGHH..!! Oh- FuuUckkK! Ah-ah, too fast too fassst!!" He was groaning about the speed now, all while crying and shaking in his seat. His toes curled and a thin layer of sweat covered his skin, causing him to shine or glimmer. That once clean silver hair turned slightly dirty at the ends, his chest and ears now turning red as well. He could feel the stimulation coursing through his veins, gnawing at him, intertwining with the pain and being blended into an inseparable mixture. The hurt was turning into arousal, and soon his body, his nerves, and his heart couldn't keep the two apart anymore.
Each time you spat at him, insulted him or were mean, he could feel himself losing a piece of his sanity. "D-don't ghHuu, stop ♥︎, keep going, until m' sa-satisfied..." He was crying now, limps calming down a bit. The boy didn't squirm around as much, keeping a somewhat collected composure while watching you with heart-shaped pupils. "Tsk tsk tsk." You clicked your tongue, shaking your head in opposition at him, sighing as you uttered, "Have you already forgotten what I told you? You have to ask nicely, you don't get to tell me what to do, clown." And just like that, he lost any chances he had to cum.
You stopped moving your hand, or at least went as slow as before. "Ah..! D-damn it.. y/n~ can't you please go faster? I'm so cloooose!" He realized his mistake and decided to not argue too much, this time betting his chances on his puppy eyes. A small pat to his head followed, and then you cupped his cheeks before pinching them.
“How about~ you promise to tell me whatever I want to hear without any games or lies?" You should step up your game and remind yourself of your duty, which is why you proposed it multiple times, hoping he'll agree and obey your command. To push his buttons even more, you added a pinch to his milky thighs and said, "I'll let you cum if you do." Then you stopped doing anything entirely so that his stupid little brain could catch a break to think about your words. He snapped back from his short-lived subspace, staring at you with a dumb, frozen grin. "T-that's hmm~! so sly y/n, so meaan.. haaHhnn..”
"I've made it clear since the beginning, that this is supposed to be torture." You scooped up some of the filthy liquid dripping down his shaft and brought it to his lips, making him lick you clean. He winced at the taste but was obedient enough to just swallow it all. "Now, what will be your answer, clown?" Nikolai thought about it, though this time his thought process got interrupted when you began moving again, leading to him whimpering in full volume, "Ughh.. aAAHhhh.?!! I-i dun- mhm, know..?"
Suddenly you slapped his dick, and he groaned again, "mmMMHh!! Gu-ghHgnnn!! Y/nn~!!" A low sigh left your lips as you pressured him, saying, "You have to decide soon, I don't have all day and I don't mind leaving you like this." His ears perked and he begged for a tad more time, but to his dismay, you didn't listen. "HNg, Wa-wait.. ah..!! Too much, to-too fast mhhh~" With his long-awaited release coming soon and your little threats, the boy was overwhelmed, head spinning and malfunctioning.
It took so long for him to make up his mind, a melting expression on his face as he nodded, whispering meekly, "I-I'll tell you.. p-please, hnngg, lemme cum." That was easy, you thought, smirking at him gently and answering, "Since you agreed to cooperate, cum my little clown ♡" As soon as you finished your sentence, you went down on him again, abusing his red and swollen cock with the little metal pole.
"UHhmmm!! Oh please please pleaaaase, aAAhh! Don't s-stooOop!♡♥︎" He started blabbering without thinking about his words, too far gone to form coherent sentences. The veins on his hands became apparent, eyes unfocused and all fucked out. Knuckles as white as his hair due to his tight grasp on his binds, thighs shaking like they were made out of pudding. Sticky pre flowing down his now bruised thighs. Red dots plagued that area of his skin due to you repeatedly pinching and groping him there.
His toes curled, arch arched so beautifully into a crescent form, and shining fat tears decorated his naturally handsome features. That voice of his has become hoarse at this point, from all the shouting and moans. If only his personality wasn't so annoying, and if only he wasn't your enemy, you would have found him cute, maybe a little attractive as well. With a swift motion, you pulled the sounding rod out of him while wrapping your free hand over his tip, trying to catch as much of his cum as possible.
And god, heavens, the pleasure in that moment was too much for him to handle! His brain had already turned into mush at that point, but now it was even more broken! Chocked out whines and stuttered moans slipping past his filthy lips and he cried out for your name, calling out to you multiple times and begging without any reason, "y/nnnn!! Y/n y-y/nNN! So good, too much AaAHGGgnNn!! Please, I-i beg you please~♡♥︎" A shiver ran down your spine at this sight, this scenery of him being totally wrecked and pathetic. How vulnerable and helpless he was, and so awfully submissive. Who would have guessed he'd have such a lewd and adorable side?
Nikolai felt a knot tightening inside his stomach, it clenched and twisted, about to burst. This strange yet pleasurable feeling gnawing at him, tugging and squeezing him, it was too much, he couldn't ignore it any longer. "NGhHHH, gonna cum!! Cummin' cumminnn'!! I'm- aaAAAhHHHG!♡♥︎~" He yelled one last time, screaming until he choked because he didn't have enough air in his lungs anymore. Coughing violently while more broken noises left him, his voice cracking whenever he went too high.
Thick robes of cum spurt out of him, covering your hand, and running down your palm slowly. That was proof of its disgusting texture, it looked like slime and was still warm. "God you must have been pent up." You joked, watching it drip down your hand for a bit. While most of his semen got caught by your hand, some of it still landed between his legs, on the cement floor.
You gave him a few minutes to calm down from his high, watching his blurry eyes return to life. It took him almost three minutes to snap back to reality, to leave that little subspace he was in. Sweat and tears mingled, making his skin shine. The tips of his bangs were wet and stuck to his forehead, his eyes were half-lidded and swollen from weeping so much.
Once you deemed him conscious enough, you brought your hand over to his lips, ordering him to lick it. "Even if this is a prison, you are not allowed to defile it with your filthy fluids." Then you grabbed his chin, not bothering with his muffled protests, and clasped your hand over his mouth. Now he had no choice but to lick it, and like the little whore he was, he enjoyed it.
His wet and hot muscles moved across your skin, trying to lick up as much as possible to then swallow it. A heavy blush on his cheeks, one that hasn't left since the beginning of your session. You watched him with an amused gaze, saying, "You agreed to tell me everything, right? Otherwise, I might have to edge you even longer." He shivered, shoulder jerking upwards as your little threat. The now somewhat docile boy nodded to show he understood what you said, while his tongue rolled between your fingers. "Good boy. Never thought the day would come when you'd earn that title." You praised him, and a breathy and sarcastic laugh came from you.
Right now, he was still cleaning up the mess he made, frowning a little at the taste, or rather the thick consistency. It caused him to feel sick, but he loved every single second, it was just so arousing, and he could feel himself getting hard again~ in the meantime, you stroked his hair, patting his head, waiting for him to finish patiently. And as soon as he did, you grabbed his hair by the roots and yanked on them. The sudden pull was enough to make the chair trip over, ending with him not even having the time to gasp before landing face-first on the ground.
“Y-y/n???" How baffled he must be, hands still tied without any chances of escape and face now pressed into the mutt. "Clean it up, your mess." You muttered, finally letting go of him. Then you sat down on the chair you brought with you, arms crossed over your chest once more, this time wearing a relaxed expression, looking at him from above. The subtle power struggles made his heart flutter, blood rushing to his lower part again. He stared at you wide-eyed, then turned to look at the ground, seeing some drops of his white cum splattered there.
A low whine escaped his throat before he lowered himself, sticking his tongue out and licking it from the dirty ground. It was a bitter and unpleasant taste, he could feel the sand crunching and his stomach rejecting it. Yet he persisted, swallowing all of it and showing you his tongue after every gulp, to prove to you he did it. Nikolai could hear your light chuckles and see that content smile, he tried his best to position himself steadily and looked up at you.
What met your gaze was the face of a fanatic pervert who enjoyed every second spent to the fullest. Eyes bore that familiar haze, sweat still soaking his skin and body twitching with each word he voiced out. He used a meek yet lustful voice as he whispered with his remaining strength, "Like seeing me be your 'good boy'?"
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Tags: @showtime-ss @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze
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Nini!rant 2.0:
Since I didn’t research anything for this one let’s talk about HIV (idk man)
Hiv is a virus, and it’s often mistaken for aids. Now let’s see, what are the differences between the two?
First, hiv is not the same as aids, though it can become aids over a long time (after ca. 10 years). While it’s developing, it doesn’t have any visible effects except when you get infected with it. Cuz then you’ll get symptoms akin to the flu, or about a week or two, and because it’s identical to the flu, many people get hiv without knowing.
Even though there is no cure for hiv, it can be neutralised with medicine. There are also tests you can buy to see if you have it, but it’s still the best if you do a check up. And the great thing is, if your body takes the treatment well and if you also eat according to your then given diet (by your doctor) it won’t develop into aids. Instead, it will just be a virus that lives with you and does nothing. Like, you won’t even be infectious to other people and can have kids or live long.
The only downside is the repression medicine makes your body weak, so it’s easier for one to catch illnesses or have the symptoms stronger than the average.
Anyway, people with hiv who are undergoing treatment are safe, there is no harm in engaging in intercourse with them since they aren’t infectious. Also from what I’ve heard, they do check-ups every month to see if the medicine works so rest assured.
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hungermakesmonsters · 17 days ago
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The Red Ribbon
Chapter One
Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..
Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader
Story Rating : R 
Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 
Word Count : 6k
A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos
Master List
Chapter One
“Remind me why I hired you?”
His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.
Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.
“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”
“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.
It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.
“What was that?” He asked.
It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.
“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”
“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”
“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.
“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.
As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.  
There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.
“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”
“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”
He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.
You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.
The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake. 
The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.
You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk. 
The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations. 
At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.
If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.
You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.
But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.
And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.
By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.
The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor. 
New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.
You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks  to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.
Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.
You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.
The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.
You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.
Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.
The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club. 
“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.
You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you.  He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.
“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.
He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.
After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer. 
“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.
And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.
Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.
“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.
You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.
As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.
After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame. 
He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.
“What can I get you?” You asked.
“Another scotch would be great.”
“Sure thing.”
You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you  grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating. 
“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.
For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.
“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.
“I’d remember seeing you.”
He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he  wasn’t checking you out.
“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.
He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.
“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.
“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.
His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.
“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”
You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.
Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.
“Oh, a thigh man as well?” 
“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.
His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.
“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.
His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.
“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”
Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.
You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.
“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.
“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.
“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”
“You have no idea...”
It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do. 
“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.
“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”
“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”
“Another?” 
You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.
“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.
“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.
Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.
“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”
“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”
“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”
He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.
“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”
Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.
“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.
“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.
“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.
“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.
He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.
“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”
“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”
“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”
He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again. 
They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.
“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.
When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.
“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.
It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.
“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.
“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.
“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.
“Should I ask?”
Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.
“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.
Oh.
Shit.
You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”
“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”
“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”
“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”
“No?”
“Nope.”
“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.
“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.
“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”
“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”
It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.
“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”
Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.
“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”
“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”
That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.
“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?” 
“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.
You took a second to consider your answer.
“Jellyfish.”
“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?” 
“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”
“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.
There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.
“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.
Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.
“What do you hate most about New York?” 
“Hate?” He repeated.
“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.
You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.
“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”
You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.
“When was the last time you used the subway?”
“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.
“Fine. Your turn.”
“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”
“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”
The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.
“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.
“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”
“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”
“Normally I don’t need lines.”
“No?”
“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.
You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.
“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.
“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.
“Emphasis on the filthy part.”
He smirked at that.
The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.
“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.
“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”
There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.
“You like baseball?”
“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”
“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”
Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.
“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.
“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.
And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.
“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.
“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.
“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.
There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe. 
“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.
“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”
Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.
“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”
He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.
“I thought it was my turn.”
“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”
“We could be friends.”
“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”
“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.
“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”
The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.
He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.
“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.
Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).
And he watched you, too.
Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.
So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.
Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.
One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”
Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.
You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him. 
“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.
“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”
It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.
Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.
“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.
Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.
“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”
“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”
Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.
“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”
“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.
He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again. 
It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.
Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.
You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.
You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.
No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.
I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.
A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.
Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.
He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...
Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.
Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt. 
He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.
As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.
A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).
As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.
Anyway, thanks for reading!
Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.
Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx
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thisischaostragic · 1 month ago
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i have been holding space for the Agatha finale (i’m in queer media) and am pleased to report that my feelings about it have shifted quite significantly. follow me, my friends, to a more or less coherent, very long text post at the end
primary thing: this show is very much about motherhood. idk why that didn’t totally register for me in the first half given how often they mentioned Nicky, but realizing this changed my analysis a ton. Billy doesn’t just remind Agatha of Nicky — Agatha loves Billy like a son. (i know “like a son” is an oversimplification, but I’m sticking with it for this post.)
with that, my thoughts on Agatha’s arc almost completely flipped. when Rio shows up in E8 and says she has to take Billy, Agatha is revisiting her deepest wound all over again. her reaction is harsh, but it’s not some long-simmering revenge plan or a calculated effort to hurt Rio. Agatha is literally just reacting to the fact that, after all of the almost-reconciliation, the love of her life is taking her son again. i think she was trying to get Rio to fight for her or to say the trade was too high a price and bend the rules. Agatha was trying to get Death to act only as her lover, and looks devastated when Rio actually walks away instead.
and so, when Agatha goes to the morgue trial and says that “sometimes, boys die,” she’s continuing that realization that Rio isn’t personally chasing her down and causing her grief. sometimes, death just… happens. and “out of Death, life” is largely about Agatha realizing that Rio did bend the rules for Nicky, but also doubles down on the Nicky and Billy parallels. both of Agatha’s sons were literally borne of Death and living on stolen time. loss is inevitable.
i think Agatha genuinely believed that Rio could have kept Nicky alive and chose not to. we know that Agatha blamed herself for Nicky dying (“the truth is too awful”). so Agatha, who was taught by her own mother that nobody would ever actually love her for who she is, probably thought that the love of her life just… didn’t love her as much as she thought she did. going back to E1, i think “you don’t have a heart” is equal parts about Nicky as it is about Agatha herself. her main takeaway is that everyone will betray her, even when they claim to love her, and so she hides behind power and a god awful reputation so that she can keep everyone at arm’s length and never get hurt again.
ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY: when Billy is about to die, Agatha almost retreats back into the version of herself she became after Nicky died, but she doesn’t. she turns around and faces the pain head-on.
and I want to take a second to appreciate how immensely hard that would be. Agatha spent centuries killing people so she could be powerful enough to stay numb. Agatha spent all of that time pushing away the love of her life, who still loves her, who still sees her fully, and who Agatha is clearly still desperate to return to. Agatha realizes, probably to absurd amounts of despair, that she was wrong about all of it. and she still turns around.
it’s not about Agatha randomly sacrificing herself for a last minute villain kind-of-redemption. it’s about Agatha breaking the cycle she’s trapped herself in for an unfathomably long time, admitting that she knows Rio couldn’t change the outcome, and acknowledging that, yeah, she actually does love this kid.
and honestly?? i don’t think Agatha becoming a ghost counts as killing her. she’s literally still around, doing stuff, picking up brooches (👀 Rio wya), and getting a second chance at… not motherhood, exactly, but caring for a child. (and a queer child! and the idea of Agatha, who has been queer since the *1600s*, getting to tell this gay kid over and over again that there’s nothing innately wrong with him makes me actually sob.)
HOWEVER! i maintain some criticisms. i think Jen deserved to have an actual fight with the doctor who bound her. (the oops! it was Agatha All Along twist was… complicated. i have mixed feelings. essay for another day, but i wanted Jen to have rage time that everyone was just cheering for.)
i needed Death lore. how is she physically with Agatha so often if, as Agatha states, 120 people die every minute? is she Death the cosmic entity, or are green witches sort of responsible for decay on earth?
some of the plot elements were severely under-developed, and frustratingly, the vast majority of the underdeveloped plotlines had to do with Agatha/Rio’s romantic relationship, Agatha’s mother, and Agatha’s reasons for killing people. (the fact that they said she’s a siphon in interviews and not once on the show will never stop baffling me lmao.) i find it very frustrating that a LARGE chunk of the underdeveloped stuff relates back to Agatha’s queerness in some way.
however… i am willing to be generous about some of that, because i find it difficult to believe that this *extremely queer* creative team actually just disregarded major queer plot elements. i am far more inclined to believe that they were operating under a hostile corporation and pushing as far as they could, and in that case, they did a fucking phenomenal job.
i genuinely think that the way they landed the show opens the door for them to… dare I say it? … give Agatha/Rio a happy ending?? ghost Agatha literally need only show up to Rio’s house or cave or dimension or whatever and be like “heyyyyy, yeah that kiss was forgiveness and also i’m solid enough to use my hands now” and it would be believable. the fact that it would take them only 15 seconds to give us two fucked up lesbians having their version of happily ever after is actually pretty cool
anyway, this is an abridged summary of how my feelings abt the Agatha All Along finale went from like a 4/10 rating to an 8/10.
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oh-allie · 8 months ago
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then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place n' have a drink or two.
dr. ratio x fem!reader
synopsis; you make veritas ratio so stupid. is he stupid enough to say 'i love you' when he just met you though? hopefully not.
part two! and then i go and spoil it all by sayin somthin stupid like....
fluff, ratio might be kinda ooc for him to fall for a love at first sight thing. but hes totally whipped for you, i tried 2 make it gen!neutral but "pretty person" just didnt sound right, inspired by frank sinatra's "something stupid."
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veritas ratio is not stupid. he doesn't say stupid things, he doesn't think stupid thoughts. he'd say he hates the idea of it, if you were to ask him.
and of course a man with outstanding achievements in the fields of biology, medicine, natural theology, philosophy, mathematics, physics, and engineering wouldn’t stumble at the mere sight of a pretty girl, right? you’d think so, but here he was. mouth agape, clammy hands, and a racing heart. it’s stupid.
just cause a pretty girl happened to talk to him. though, to him, you weren't just a pretty girl. he almost thought he was hallucinating- he was about to check for signs of chemical abnormalities in his brain. it was awkward, actually, as he reached out to touch your steady hand to confirm you were real, but didn't have a game plan for what to do if you were (which you were. you are real. and you did stare at his cold fingers brushing against your knuckles.)
“are you alright, mr. ratio?” you say, a breathy chuckle escaping from your lips. you're sat across the table from him, your drink in your hand as you occasionally take sips from the chunky straw that protrudes from the cap.
all you wanted to do was approach a scholar you deeply admired, but it seems like you caught him at a bad time.
you look at him expectantly.
"um. hello?”
you consider standing up to leave, oh well, maybe you could try your luck with a letter to his assistant.
the sound of an awkward throat-clear is heard from across the table, “hi. i’m sorry, you just startled me. wha.. what do you need?” he says, straightforward and curtly. the way the tips of his ears are red and his voice cracks when he says ‘stArtled’ betray the cool demeanor he's trying to present.
“i recognized you from my booth. thought i had to take the opportunity to chat with such an esteemed man. i hope i'm not intruding too much.” you close your eyes as you take another sip, giving him a break from your intimidating gaze.
oh you, you flatter him. and you know it from the way he almost stumbles over his words and his hands get shakier as he realizes he hasn't moved them far enough away from yours to be normal.
he tries to find something, anything to say. anything to say to keep the conversation going, to flaunt his academic prowess that you approached him for, to keep you here with him, but he seems to have lost it all when you sat down.
“my apologies, i'll leave you be, then.” you say with a smirk. placing your napkin that had been resting in your lap onto the table and grabbing your drink, you give him a curt goodbye and walk out of the café.
well fuck.
he blew it. a girl so pretty he was convinced he was hallucinating her just sat by him and tried to talk to him and he blew it. he thinks about what topic he could pour himself into to distract from, what he over exaggerates to be, the biggest mistake of his life. and then his smartass brain turns back on.
he sees the neatly folded napkin you left behind, with curly red ink and blotches protruding behind the elegant folds. he grabs it and carefully unfolds it,
i was about to be late to my meeting. but i wouldn't want to miss a chance to speak with my favorite scholar.
lets link up ###-###-####
he’s quite happy he didn’t speak his mind when he first met you. you make him so stupid. almost stupid enough to blurt out ‘i'm totally in love with you’ when he just met you. he’ll be sure to set some hours aside in the evening to plan what he’ll say to you next time.
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tyuns-world · 8 days ago
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🖇️ Mr. Mr.🖇️
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Pairing: fem! Reader x boss! Yeonjun
Genre: smut, secret romance, power imbalance, degrading, slight cnc not really but didn’t want to chance it
Warnings: smut
Summary: What started as a simple internship turns into something more when your boss offers you a part-time position. As you grow closer, the line between work and personal begins to blur, and things quickly spiral out of control.
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You had planned to work here only for a paid summer internship. This office wasn't even in the field you truly aspired to work in. Yet here you are, accepting a part-time position offer from the boss. The very boss who lays you down on his table during his lunch break.
He wants you close, and he wants you available. The position is a step back from the internship job—you'd just be his personal assistant—but imagine how much easier it would be to satisfy him, without worrying about who sees you coming and going from his office at odd hours.
He knows you'll accept; he knows how addictive he is, how no one can say no to him, especially you. You couldn't say no even on your first day when he ordered you to bend over, and you just did it, only asking questions after the fact.
"Is this appropriate, for me to bend over your desk like this, Mr. Choi?" you ask, your chest resting on his desk while your backside is arched in the air.
Your tight pencil skirt hugging your curves, the slit on the side revealing more of your long, thick brown legs covered in tights. He almost—keyword almost—drools at the sight.
"You're asking after you've already done it?" Yeonjun chuckles. Despite being confused, you make no moves to get off his desk.
"Why did you follow my order so obediently, Y/N?" His hand slides over your ass, and you arch your back in response to his touch.
"You're the boss. I just assumed it's kind of like a test to see if I'll follow your orders, and I will. I'm very hardworking, so you'll never have any problems with me." You pitch yourself to your boss, but he's wholly uninterested in your qualifications. He just saw how hot you looked in your office wear and wanted to fuck you.
"Mhm, so you'll follow any command your boss gives?" He lightly smacks your ass. You jump a bit, feeling your panties grow damp from the exchange.
"Yes, I've never worked under anyone before, and I don't want to ruin this opportunity." You're bullshitting. You thought he was sexy from the moment you saw him and were more than willing to comply with his every desire.
He had a seductive, fox-like face, his hair was styled down, with the top button of his shirt casually undone, exposing his very inviting collarbones. His attire was meant to give off a more laid-back boss vibe, though everyone knew the tight control he has and his zero-tolerance for errors.
"Mhm, so if I ordered you to take off your tights and panties, you'd do it?" His voice held a lot of amusement. It was clear he didn't expect such a bold move on your first day. He enjoyed teasing, he wanted to flirt with you, make you blush every time he passed by, and then after a while get you bent over his desk.
"If that's what you wish." you stand up, remove your shoes, and drop your tights and now-soaked panties. Returning to your previous position on his desk
His eyes widen in surprise. Either you're really bold or desperate to be in his good graces, either way, he doesn't care. You're offering yourself up to him on a platter. How could he say no?
"You know, you should wear shorter skirts around here; makes for easier access," he says as he rolls your skirt up over your ass. The cold office AC air hits your wet cunt, causing you to shiver a little.
"Okay, Mr. Cho—" he cuts you off. "Just call me Yeonjun."
"Okay, Mr. Yeonjun." That earns you a spank on the ass. "I said just Yeonjun. What happened to never making any mistakes, hmm? I'm not one who takes too kindly to people who can't do simple tasks." He rubs your ass where he spanked, soothing it but also reminding you what happens if you mess up.
"I'm sorry, Yeonjun. It won't happen again."
Oh, how tempted you were to do it again. You wanted him to touch you more, to spank you harder, to bring you to tears. "That's a good girl," his voice deepens, and you moan at his words.
He rubs his finger over your pussy, gathering all your juices. You start panting, moans threatening to escape. You don't know how soundproof his walls are, and you're not trying to find out.
He sinks that finger deep inside your pussy. You moan, your back arching with pleasure. "Mr. Yeonjun, are you sure this is a good idea?" The "Mr." slips out; you weren't trying to test his patience currently.
He slaps your ass again, harder this time, causing it to jiggle from the force. "Mhm, see, I was gonna take it nice and slow—that's what I do for my good, obedient girls. But it seems you're a naughty bitch, and naughty bitches don't deserve nice and slow." He withdraws his finger and quickly replaces it with his dick.
You cry out at the intrusion. He was big and, not to mention, thick. His thrust hurt, but he didn't give you time to recover. No, he immediately starts fucking into you. Tears fill your eyes, the mix of pleasure and pain feeling too intense, too overwhelming.
"This is what you deserve—to be fucked however I like." He emphasizes the "I" in his sentence. He's the one in control here, and right now, he controls you and your pleasure.
He grips your waist forcefully as he snaps his hips into you, the sounds of skin slapping and squelching filling the room. His grip is so tight it's bound to leave a bruise, and you whimper at the thought.
He wraps his hand around your neck, pulling you close against his chest. "Are you enjoying this?" he whispers into your ear. "Being taken without remorse?" You try to nod in response, but all you can focus on is how he stretches you so perfectly with his cock.
He chuckles softly into your ear, and you groan at the sound, instinctively rolling your hips onto his dick. He spanks you again. "No moving, toy."
Those words excite you. Right now, he sees you as nothing but a plaything to satisfy his desires, and you love it. You crave his dominance, wanting him to use your body however he pleases, whenever he desires.
Yeonjun's thrusts quicken and deepen, his head falling onto your back. "Fuck, I'm close," he mutters.
His grip on your waist tightens, fingers digging into your flesh, marking you as his. Each thrust grows more powerful. His hand moves from your neck to your clit, rubbing circles that send jolts of pleasure through your body, causing you to tighten around his cock. "Good girl," he growls.
A deep groan escapes his lips as he tips over the edge, biting into your neck, almost drawing blood as he cums, filling you with his thick substance.
He withdraws from you, his seed spilling down your legs. He takes out his phone, snaps a picture of the sight, and comments, "Nice."
"Stay still. I'll get something to clean you up," he says, exiting the room briefly before returning with warm, wet paper towels. He cleans your legs and pussy, planting kisses in the area. "There you go," he says, finishing up and pulling your skirt back over your ass. As you reach for your tights and panties, he stops you.
"You're going out like that. Put your shoes back on." You comply silently. "Well, that concludes your interview. I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow, Y/N." He winks as you leave his office. He pockets your garments for later and sits back in his chair, satisfied.
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gaysindistress · 9 months ago
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What if Simon didn’t listen when Price told him to apologize to his girl before she does go off and find herself a better man? - part two
a/n: I know John isn’t American but I kept picturing him as Joe from SIX and honety Gibs from NCIS and I couldn’t stop myself. I sincerely apologize that this John is American-grumpy-hot-military-older man coded (not really). Also I know it took a month and I’m so sorry 🙈 I got so busy at work but it’s here! Enjoy!!
Warnings: smutty smut smut, phone sex
non-mcu masterlist
part one
Taglist: @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @calicocat45 @whos-fran @vonev @yyiikes
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The situation at hand is tricky to say the least. Waiting around and trying to be careful of everyone’s feelings will push you away. On the other hand, he’s wanted to show you the love that you deserve and now is his chance.
Fuck Simon.
Fuck him for treating you like a safety net and like you’re replaceable. Fuck him for letting you shoulder the burden of your relationship and expecting you to always be at his beck and call. Fuck him for lying to you instead of having the balls to just be honest about why he wanted to break up. Fuck Simon Riley for saying that you could find a better man and expecting you to not listen to him for once.
“I want a lot of things,” he starts and takes a moment to choose his words, “I might be a gentleman but I’m a selfish man. I won’t take what’s not offered but you’d be hell bent to find me sharing my life with others. If you say that it’s over and mean it, well then love, I’ll be the most selfish man you’ve ever met when it comes to you. Im not some young lad anymore; I’m settled in my life and now that things are stable I want someone to share it with. I’ll follow your lead when it comes to how we share it but just know that I don’t want something casual or even friendship.”
You’re still resting your chin on his shoulder, listening to his every word as hope begins to fill your eyes. It’s the last sentence he whispers as he gazes down at you that causes your breath to hitch;
“I’ll love you until my lungs give out.”
And this man Delivers. The capital d is not a typo. John Price understands that you’re an independent person and he respects that. That’s not to say that he doesn’t spoil the absolute shit out of you and ensures that you are happy in every facet of your life imaginable.
The dogs are being wild today and overwhelming you? As soon as he gets home, he’s taking them out on a walk and giving you instructions to go have yourself a nice hot bath. Dinner is already taken care of so no need to worry about that. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the quiet.
He’s been on deployment for a couple weeks and the loneliness is starting to creep in? You will be getting at least two check in texts a day and a call or FaceTime if he can before you go to bed. You should also expect some sort of care package to be on your doorstep weekly. This could be anything from flowers to your whole ass Amazon cart, all you need to do is say you miss him and he’s got you covered.
Things have been a little tense between the two of you? Well get ready because you’re going to be doing a check in that night where the two of you talk about whatever is going on. If it’s something small like you’re both stressed from work and a weekend getaway is needed, he’s already got that planned. If it’s something that needs more work, he’s ready to dive right into it and figure it out.
Still true to his internal word, nothing physical happens between you two at first. He wanted desperately to kiss you when he told you he would love you until his last breath but he didn’t. Disgusted by the enormity of his craving for you, John vowed to wait until you asked for his physical affection. Of course this meant he wouldn’t give into any of your advances until you told what you wanted.
After that night, you began the long and arduous process of breaking down John’s resolve. While it may have been unspoken, you knew what he wanted but you weren’t going to give into him so quickly. It started with closing the distance between you two. Instead of sitting on opposite ends of the couch, you’d lay your feet in his lap or move just close enough to trail your fingers over the back of his hand. Only would you move to sit beside him if he slung his thick arm over the couch’s back and beckoned you closer. Then you would take every opportunity possible to cuddle into his side and slyly skirt your hands across the waistband of his sweats when you wrapped your arms around him. If you were in the kitchen together, you were always just out of his grasp. His fingers could grasp at the back of your shirt but never fully grab you. You’d swiftly slip around him if he moved behind you but not before brushing your hands over him in some way.
Eventually you grew bolder and began to shower with the door propped open. You’d said it was so the dogs could still see you but John isn’t stupid. He knew that you wanted him to catch a glimpse of your body through the foggy glass doors. But here’s the thing; he’s not Simon. Simon would’ve joined you and fucked you on that glass door like your life depended on it but not a captain price.
No no no. John Price is going to make you say those three little words, ‘I want you’, before he touches you even if it means leaving on for a mission without so much as a chaste peck on the lips. No amount of sly looks and sneaky touches is going to convince this man to give into you.
He starts beating you at your own game though. his bedroom door is suddenly always cracked open making it so that you can hear every rumbling moan and gasp of your name when he fists his cock at night. You no longer feel the waistband of his underwear when you wrap your arms around his am waist during your cuddles. Instead your fingers find the thick trail of hair that disappears under his sweatpants. Speaking of which, John knows about grey sweat pants and he exploits that turn on every chance he gets. Soon it goes from just wearing them low on his hips to forgoing boxers (as mentioned above) and sometimes he even ‘forgets’ his shirt. The memory of his thick bare chest on display alone is enough to make you clench your legs together.
When he finally does have to leave for work, he presses a light kiss to your temple and tells you to be careful. It goes without saying but John makes your promise anyways. Eases his old heart as he likes to say. If only he would go easy on yours…
Nearly every photo, FaceTime, what have you, this man is bare chested with lidded eyes and a knowing smirk on his face. He knows that you’re frustrated with the way things have played out; namely his departure with no memorable moments. He’s already become an expert in you, knowing what your body langue means, what your blushes mean, and most importantly, what your words truly mean.
Probably about a month in to this mission is when it comes to a climax. Your hands were doing nothing to ease the ache between your legs and your toys were making it worse. It was as if your body knew that it was you instead John rubbing small circles into your clit late at night. You’d tried nearly everything you could think of aside from finding someone in a pub and telling the older captain about your dilemma. While you two weren’t anything more than roommates with feelings at this point, it still felt wrong to find someone else to help you out. With only one person that your body wanted and nothing you could do about it, you settled for being sexually frustrated and irritable.
John is finally able to get some alone time to call you and actually talk to you. Settled into some poor excuse for a cot, he makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to pick up. It makes maybe a few rings before your tight voice comes through with a short ‘hello?’
He wants to chuckle and fails to suppress it, “Well hello to you too, love.”
Immediately you sigh when you recognize his voice, “oh John it’s you. How are you?”
“Been better. What’s been going on with you?”
You let out another deep sigh, pausing to answer as you contemplate what to tell him.
“What is it, love? Something bothering you?”
“I…I’m just….im just irritable,” you attempt to pass off as the full truth but John knows you better than that.
“Irritable you say?”
You can hear him shuffle around on his end and it causes your legs to cross to even think about him. God it’s beyond annoying to be this turned on over just hearing him move around, let alone hear his voice right now.
“I’d say a relaxing day is in order,” he teases with a low pitched sultry tone, “find some relief in a massage maybe.”
Relief.
The word feels hot as it washes over your brain and invokes images that would make a nun curse under her breath.
You snort at his suggestion. In that small noise, he finds all the answers he needed; you’re about to break and murmur those three sweet words.
“No appeal to that, love?” He asks and you can just hear the smirk he’s wearing. “A massage isn’t the relief you’re looking for though is it? You need a different type of relief, isn’t that right love?”
That bastard.
You hear him shuffle again and you swear to god you hear the sound of a belt coming undone.
“Talk to me. Tell me how I can help.”
If you weren’t needy before, you must certainly are now. You feel pathetic, a bitch in heat with the way your body starts to react to his simple words. Practically mumbling you attempt to tell him to fuck off but it doesn’t sting as much as you’d hoped. John laughs off your feeble attempt at hiding the true reason you’re in a mood.
Instead of adding flame to fire, he stays quiet.
It takes 40 agonizing seconds of silence for you to groan his name out of frustration. The captain only hums his acknowledgment that you spoke.
Phone sex isn’t new to you by any means however there’s something about this time that causes you to falter. There’s something about the way he initiated it but is allowing you to lead where it goes. There’s something about the way he knew what you needed within seconds. There’s something about the way your body seems to know that it craves his without ever touching.
“Yes,” you mumble while your cheeks burn and your body sings at the thought of getting what it truly desires.
John chuckles under his breath and the sardonic sounds causes your eyes to squeeze shut.
“Be a good girl for me and slip your hand into your panties.”
Your hearing dulls to a muffled tone as your hand follows his instructions. Barely does your ears register the sound of skin on skin, a slick hand taunting an impossibly hard cock. Your name comes out as a groan when you tell him to continue.
“Fuuckkk, love. Tell me are ya wet?”
“S…soaked.” You sigh as you roll your clit with your fingertips.
He lets out a string of curses as his hips buck up into his hand and his cock throbs from his slow pace.
“I want you to keep rubbing your clit and fuck yourself with your fingers,” the captain orders you, “and dont try to hide any of those pretty sounds.”
You mumble a weak ‘okay’ as you work your clit in small circles, feeling yourself become even more wet.
Strings of curses fall from his lips as he listens to your desperate cries of pleasure. The sounds of his thrusts get louder and louder in time when you bury two fingers in and become to fuck yourself like he told you to. It feels better than all of your other attempts but it’s not enough.
Nothing will be enough until you can feel John’s cock deep inside of you. Until you can feel his hips rut against yours and his hoarse moans in your ear. Until you feel the burn that his facial hair will give you when he eats you out like a starved and neglected dog. Until you feel his warm speed leak from you after he’s worked you through several of your own orgasms.
The thoughts of what is to come push you over the edge and you moan out his name in an absolutely pornographic manner. It stirs something disgustingly powerful and sinful deep in his gut when he hears it. He can only imagine the beautiful display of pleasure and bliss that you’ve come as you lay panting post orgasm.
You can only imagine how stunning he looks with his sweats pulled down to his mid thigh, his bare chest rapidly rising and falling while his stomach is painted with his own cum.
“John?” You whisper after your breathing has returned to normal(ish). “When are you coming home?”
His lips turn up in a smirk at your word choice, “missing me more than you let on, now are ya love?”
“Yeah it’s lonely without you here. you can’t leave on another deployment like this without fucking me before.”
“I promise it won’t happen again, my love.”
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konigenblobbity · 2 years ago
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It’s All Written Down [Part 1]
Hobie Brown x Spidey!F!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Miguel being a prick, protective Hobie
—> [Part 2]
Summary: Due to your silent nature, you haven’t been the best at bonding with people. Miguel and Jess decided to give you a chance due to your skills. But as time passes, and the only person you warm up to is Hobie, Miguel’s patience grows thin and he decides to hold a meeting, without you, to make the call that you can’t be a part of the team anymore. You end up overhearing them and decide to make it easier by just listening to Miguel… and leaving.
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Hobie should’ve known something was off when you weren’t at the meeting. He thought you might be late but even that was a stretch knowing you. It seemed that he was the only one who really knew you, no one else picking up on your disappearance.
You’d always been a ‘lone wolf’ of sorts… not because you wanted to be, but because you weren’t the type to really approach people, or even open up to them. You’d always learned that being quiet kept you out of trouble, it also kept you out of people’s hair.
Hobie picked up on it the moment you joined, you hadn’t taken your mask off once the day you arrived, it immediately intrigued him. He ended up commenting “love that anti-establishment vibe ya got, all going against the grain by not showing your face to these A tier strangers. I like it” you only gave a small nod, that was all it took for him to become fascinated by you.
He’d run up to you whenever he saw you at HQ, rambling on about his most recent demonstration or performance. He didn’t expect a response, rather liking how you’d only nod your head or let out short laughs when he cracked a joke. “Nah, I can only tell you this stuff, seeing as Miguel would get all on my ass bout it” when he hears your soft laugh he grins.
“Was that a laugh? Eh?” When you ignore him, and glance away he just pokes at your arm. “I know ya got your mask on but I can tell you’re grinnin” you try to nudge him away playfully, “you can’t tell nothing” but he continues to poke at you before throwing his arm around your shoulder. “I can read you like a book” He was right, you were smiling… the fact that he knew only made you smile more.
You’d have never expected Hobie to be so warm to you. Your silent and curt nature often pushed others away, thinking you were narcissistic or self-centered, or even just straight up strange. But not Hobie, he’d welcomed you with open arms, not trying to change you, or make fun of you. He made you feel safe.
After the first month, you began to spend more nights in Hobie’s dimension, killing time together, simply enjoying each others company. And one day, as you both decided to knock out for the night, you took off you mask right in front of him. Freezing immediately as you did. He hadn’t seen your face yet, no one in the team had.
When you began to stay over, he had made you a little sign to put on the door handle of his guest room which read “Mask off, so fuck off”. It made you giggle when he gave it to you and he just shrugged. “Wanna make you feel comfortable Briney Marlin, especially if you plan on crashing here more often” you found the act endearing.
“Briney Marlin?” You tilt your head and he just smiles at you. “It’s cockney love. For darlin’… is it alright if I call you that?” You think for a moment but nod “I don’t mind Marlin” and from then on that was his little nickname for you, you liked it cause it was unique… and cause it was from him.
But now, there you stood, mask in hands, eyes looking down at it. You look at Hobie’s figure lying on his bed with wide eyes, his eyes still focused on the guitar in his lap, he wasn’t even looking at you. You don’t speak, so he does. “I haven’t seen a thing yet Marlin… you can still put it back on” those words warmed your heart, you pause for a moment, thinking over his offer, but decide otherwise, shaking your head slightly and smiling.
“No. That’s alright” at those words he looks up at you, his eyes focusing on your features, he then gives you a reassuring smile. “Well aren’t you just ravishing love” he said it in a tone which made your face heat, but there was still a platonic nature to it. Letting you know that he wasn’t going to make a big fuss over this.
After that, you never wore your mask in Hobie’s place, enjoying that it was only in his company that you feel comfortable enough to do it. Over the three months you’ve been with the team, you bonded the most with Hobie, you became practically inseparable at HQ and the more comfortable you got with him, you slowly became more comfortable with the others.
You did a lot of missions together, getting to know the team more, specifically Gwen and Pavitr, seeing as they both knew Hobie in a similar way you did. Although, it did warm your heart how often Hobie would choose to walk with you, even if it was just to ramble to you about his life.
However you still didn’t open up to them about your life outside of your spider-persona. They didn’t seem to have any problems with you, just happy to hear your voice more and seeing you become more confident in taking action during the missions. You really didn’t think there were any problems with your secrecy.
That was… until todays meeting. You were at Hobie’s place, fidgeting with a small tennis ball he kept somewhere among the mess of clothes, stolen gadgets, and music gear. You had no clue where he was, you hadn’t gotten any info about a meeting at HQ and just thought he was out. Even though he usually told you when he was.
Back at HQ, everyone stood around waiting until Miguel finally walked in. “Perfect. Everyone’s here” he says before standing at the front, hands on his hips. Before he can begin, Hobie speaks up. “Oi, wait a sec, Marlin isn’t here, I’ll call her over” he goes to pull out his phone but stops when Miguel speaks “No. She’s not a part of this meeting”
Everyone looks at Miguel now, brows furrowed before exchanging glances with one another. “What d’you mean by that?” Hobie tried to hide his growing unease, not liking the tense mood shift in the air. Miguel just lets out a long breath, Jess butting in with a hushed voice. “Told you they aren’t gonna like this…”
“They don’t even know what ‘this’ is” Miguel retorts back. Hobie then steps forward, closer to the front, closer to Miguel. “And I already don’t like it… seeing as it doesn’t involve our lil Marlin” Miguel brings a hand up, rubbing his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Just hear me out. Then we’ll discuss it.” At that Hobie just nods as a sign for him to explain. The others moving in closer, curiosity growing as more silence fills the room.
You sigh, checking the time again, feeling as if it was passing slower. You sit up on the bed, tapping your fingers on the bedsheets impatiently. You finally stand up and decide to look for Hobie. “Maybe he got hung up at HQ…” you think to yourself, using your watch gizmo to open up a portal to it. Stepping through it.
As you walk through HQ, greeting a few other spider-people with a kind nod or short wave. You ask a few of them if they’ve seen Hobie. Most of them shake their heads before one finally points to the main room where Miguel usually is. You thank them then continue walking.
As you walk closer to the main room, you hear raised voices, quieting your footsteps. “That’s not fair to her Miguel!” Gwen’s voice sounds frustrated, and you can then hear Miguel’s stern one. “It’s the best move for everyone. You can’t deny her lack of communication skills” your brows furrow as you begin to wonder why you weren’t invited to this meeting.
“Doesn’t make her any less valuable” your ears perk up at Hobie’s voice. You’ve never heard him talk like this, his tone serious and hostile, as you peeked your head around you saw his expression was full of rage. “I’m sorry Hobie but your ‘Marlin’ just isn’t fit for this work” that’s when you step back in shock, realizing they were talking about you.
“What, just because she doesn’t like to run her mouth?” You watch as Miles also steps in, feeling your heart warm at everyone standing up for you. Peter then tries to calm everyone down with a soft voice “Miguel just listen to them… you can’t make such a rash decision for her. I’m guessing she doesn’t even know about this?” Miguel’s silence tells him everything he needs to know.
“That sounds about right. You’re being a right prick… and you don’t even seem apologetic for it!” Hobie raises his voice which causes everyone to look at him, shocked. Expect Miguel, whose expression only becomes more stern as he tilts his head up looking down at the Brit.
“You’re right, I’m not. But don’t worry, she’ll get a choice… either she does solo missions or she leaves” you take another step back, fully grasping the situation. The voices of the others begin to fade out as you start to get caught up in your thoughts.
“Miguel you can’t put that much on her… she only joined 3 months ago, you really think she’ll manage on her own?” Peter speaks with his voice laced in concern, Miguel looks at him, expression reading indifference. “That’s up to her. Do you think she’ll manage on her own?”
Everyone goes silent. Not because they don’t think you’re capable, but because they don’t know how to respond. That is until Hobie speaks up. “She’d manage just fine, but we both know she’s built to work in a team, solo missions are too much pressure” Miguel then shrugs and simply says “Well… then maybe she should choose option two”
Those are the final words you hear before you decide to run off, opening a portal back to Hobie’s apartment. You jump through and then stumble before sitting down on the bed. You try to control your breathing, feeling as if your heart was beating out of your chest. You take off your mask, hoping it would help.
‘Maybe she should choose option two…’ Miguel’s words ring in your mind. As much as you wanted to deny it, you thought he was right. You weren’t ready to work solo, the idea of trying to contain an anomaly all by yourself? You weren’t ready for that. You realize that this is exactly what Miguel wanted…
He knew you wouldn’t be ready to complete missions by yourself, so he gave you only one other option. To leave. You quickly search the room, finding a pen and paper and began to write something down. Trying to find the right words… the right way to say goodbye. To you, the only thing that was worse then this, would be saying goodbye to Hobie’s face.
Hobie stood face to face with Miguel, their foreheads practically touching, the others swear sparks could be seen between their heads. “Back down you old Geezer…” Hobie smirked as he spoke, wanting to get under Miguel’s skin. He knew he succeeded as he watches him bare his teeth as a low growl can be heard in his throat.
That’s when Peter steps in, putting both his hands on Miguel’s chest, meanwhile Pavitr begins to pull Hobie away as well. “Both of you… relax. This decision isn’t even final until we talk to her about it. I’m sure we’ll figure something out” his tone is calm but cautious, not wanting to upset either of them.
Gwen nods in agreement. Pavitr gently pats Hobie’s shoulder trying to get him to calm down. Hobie then shrugs off Pavitr’s touch, and then puts his hands in his pockets. “You were never on her side…” he scowls towards Miguel before walking off. Ignoring the calls of his friends from behind him.
He opens up a portal back to his place, feeling his body relax slightly as he steps through. He places his guitar against the wall and looks around. “Marlin? Ya there?” He calls out to you, but hears nothing. He throws his mask onto his bed, his brows furrow as he spots a note next to where it landed.
He picks it up and immediately recognizes your hand writing, he feels his breath catch in his throat as he begins to read it. He slowly moves to sit down on the bed, gripping the note tighter the more he reads.
Dear Hobie,
I choose option two. I hope you’re not mad at me… I can’t bear the idea of you remembering me in anger. I just couldn’t tell you this to your face. I went looking for you and then overheard your meeting with the others… I understand why you guys didn’t invite me. I’m not fit to be a part of this team. You’re the only one I really trust, the only person who I comfortable enough with to drop my spider-persona around… I can’t thank you enough for that. Please don’t look for me, I did what I had to do, but couldn’t leave without finding some way of saying goodbye. So here’s it is… all written down. Goodbye Hobie… I’ll miss you.
Your Marlin.
Once he read it all he curses under his breathe, then notices your watch next to him on the bed. He picks it up, recognizing the small customizations you both put on the band together. The way it matched his own. It made him smile at the memory but then he felt grief all over again.
He grabs his mask, putting it on hastily before pocketing both the note and your watch. “Where did you go Marlin… you’re not leaving me that easily” he jumps out of his window and swings off into the night.
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auspicioustidings · 3 months ago
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Kinktober Day 1
Moniker: Soap Risk Level: Low. Soap is a part-time resident who is detained as needed. He is currently not detained and is visiting freely. Brief: Oral sex, “69”ing. Note Soap has biologically female genitalia with an enlarged clitoris or “t-cock”. He accepts feminine and masculine terms for this. Safeword: The word RED is to be used by any party if at any point the session must stop. If any party is unable to vocalise they are to signal physically by touching their thumb to each of their fingers in sequence to signify RED. At no point should any party be both unable to vocalise and unable to signal physically. In the event that this happens, RED will be considered in action and the session will be stopped.
Thought losing your virginity on the first day might scare you off so I’ve shuffled the plan around. You’ve spoken with Soap before, helped him diffuse a bomb on the Medusa mission. He’s insistent you got along so hope having him first helps settle your nerves. I’m on cameras for this one, so I’ve got your back - Price
Well fuck you sideways, your first sexual experience with another person and Captain John Price was going to be watching. You don’t know how he thought that was supposed to settle your nerves. The poor paper that briefing was on had been twisted to pieces in your nervous hands as you made your way to the room. This was where you’d go everytime, this was where you worked. You’d seen it once and Kate had stressed that it would be thoroughly sanitized and reset after each use to fit whatever purpose it needed to. She further stressed that anybody who entered this room had been tested for any transmittable diseases, sexual, blood borne or otherwise, and would only be permitted entry if they came back clean. That wasn’t terrifying at all.
Did you knock? That would be the polite thing to do. Well the correct thing to do at least, Soap was a Sergeant and while the ranks were different in your service your equivalent would be somewhere around Corporal, a rank beneath him. Did he remember you or did Price just know as his Captain that you had spoken before?
The door opened and you about had a heart attack as Soap stood grinning before grabbing your wrist and yanking you through. You had sort of pictured him as handsome because he had a nice voice, but you hadn’t expected him to be so damn broad. Bomb specialists tended to be a little more wirey in your experience.
“Price said ye were out there having a moment, but I’ve only got the day with ye so cannae be wasting time.”
The room did not look as it had when you had visited it. It was warmer now, more welcoming. The raised platform in the middle had a big bed on it with a soft looking duvet. You couldn’t help but smile seeing all the bedclothes were tartan. So the soldier of the day had some say then.
“Right, first off cannae believe I get ye first. I bitched Price’s ear off but didnae think I had a chance. Very, very grateful tae my bonnie Captain for naw ignoring me though” he said, loudly announcing his thanks and sending a grin to the camera in the corner. “I ken ye probably have a bundle of nerves rioting in that pretty stomach, but ye need tae get over them and get over them fast because I need tae winch your cunt.”
You started choking as a gasp caused saliva to go down the wrong pipe. He laughed and patted your back, or at least he started on your back but his hand very much wandered to your ass and squeezed, hard.
It was a knee jerk reaction. You didn’t fully catch up to what your body had even done until you saw the blood streaming from his nose. Shit. You thought for sure Price was about to march in here and give you a dressing down for punching his solider in the face on your first day as a glorified sex toy.
“S-sorry! I wasn’t expecting you to… I mean I know that’s why I’m here, it was instinct” you blurted, getting increasingly panicked at the feral glint in his eye as he rubbed a hand across his nose which only served to smear the blood everywhere.
“Look at the camera for me hen, aye that’s it. Now tell Price that nice wee safeword so he kens ye remember it. The non-verbal version too.”
You shakily followed his instruction, freaked out at how calm and warm his voice was when his eyes were still manic.
“That should dae it, aye Captain? All mine until ye safeword out now hen.”
He attacked you, no other way to describe it with how fast and violent he was in grabbing your face and shoving his tongue into your mouth. He was still bleeding and you could taste it, could feel it stick to your skin. It’s not like you had never kissed someone before, but you never realised just how another tongue could bully yours, writhing against it and pushing it around at it’s pleasure. Oh fuck, if that’s what it was doing in your mouth… an almost painful jolt shot to your clit and you jumped at the shock.
He led you backwards until you hit the bed and then his hands were gripping the back of your thighs so he could use a combination of strength and momentum to lift you a little and toss you back onto the bed. You stared at him as his mouth broke of from yours with the movement. His face was a mess, blood and saliva coating his lips and chin even as the fresh blood had started to slow from his nose.
“Fucking need this hen” he said, almost a keening whine, as he shoved your legs apart and buried his face between them. “Been dying of thirst, ye need tae drown me.”
It was overwhelming just how desperate he seemed and you were shocked and embarrassed at the whimper that spilled from you when he started to lick and chew on the seam of your jeans. The scrape of teeth through the thick fabric had you feeling your heartbeat throb through your clit and your legs were trying to close, you weren’t sure if it was to escape the sensation or chase it with friction, but he muscled his shoulders between them and gripped hard around your thighs so they were locked open.
“Think ye can soak through them? I can make ye soak through them, fuck” he groaned, kissing and tonguing your jeans like he had your mouth.
It was so erotic and so wrong, he was leaving them marked with blood and spit and you felt powerless to do anything about it. You didn’t know if you were getting wet over it and you fisted the duvet below, the urge to run your fingers under your jeans and panties and check flooding through you. It was as if he knew because the next moment he was pressing the pads of two fingers hard against your opening over the jeans, but it was enough. Your panties grabbed onto the slick that had pooled around your hole and it was like a dam breaking, suddenly you could feel it everywhere.
“I-I-” you started, not actually sure what you needed but needing something.
“Nae patience eh?” he said, lifting his head to peer up at you, the picture of some decadent predator feasting on his prey. “Say please.”
“Please?”
“Say please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt.”
You felt like your cheeks had just become about equal to the surface of the sun in terms of heat. You had listened to fucking torture sessions to gather intel but dirty talk from this bloodied creature was the thing that tied your tongue up? There was almost an anger at yourself over it. No wonder you were a fucking virgin if you couldn’t even handle this, they should have chosen one of the confident candidates who would already have made demands of him.
“Naw, stop thinking hen. Please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt” he repeated expectantly, keeping his eyes on you even as his head turned and he nipped his teeth into the meat of your thigh.
“…please Johnny, get me naked and eat my cunt.”
He was about ready to cum from hearing you say that particular nickname so sweetly.
“Good lass” he said, planting a kiss where he had just sunk his teeth and wasting no time undoing the button on your jeans and peeling them down your legs, his eyes taking in everything underneath them on the way. “That all for me?”
You had forgotten the prep you had done over the last week. Hairless, smooth, soft. It hadn’t been a plan so much as a mad evening of bathing, shaving and nearly drowning yourself in scented oils and lotions in some sort of panic. Lingerie that you had nearly bailed on because it was so delicate and lacy and see through that it felt a level of sensual you weren’t confident in pulling off was now on full display for him and the fabric was so thin that your arousal was making it cling lewdly.
“Aye, think that’s all for me” he grinned as your jeans hit the floor with a thunk.
Fuck he was a sight. He looked like he had just been tearing into a carcass. You had around 5 seconds to take a breath and try prepare before his head was back between your legs. You didn’t realise how much the jeans had muted the sensations, but now with barely a scrap of thin fabric between your pussy and his mouth you saw stars. There was a scream that you vaguely realised was coming from you. His hair was so soft in your fingers, you felt delirious almost as you mumbled out a question about what conditioner he used and then about died when he chuckled right against your clit before he pulled back and ever so slowly pulled your panties off.
“Fuck that’s pretty” he commented before bringing your panties to his nose and rubbing them against his nostrils.
It broke some of the congealing blood, caused a little trickle to start up again. He didn’t seem to care and after another huff neatly, reverently folded your panties and placed them on a little table at the side. Your shirt he was quick with and showed less care, it going flying to rest on the floor a few inches from your jeans.
“These are pretty too hen, if Price wouldnae gie me a spanking for going off brief I’d fuck them” he said as he squeezed your tits together. “Just a wee taste.”
A wee taste here meant him crushing your tits together so he could suck both nipples into his mouth with such force you bowed off of the bed and felt like the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your bra was taken off and folded with the same reverence your panties had been, placed on the table with pink marks on the cups from that little trickle of blood. Most of the blood around his mouth was gone now, only a pink tinge left among all the spit and arousal.
“Ye ever cum for anyone else before?”
“I… no. I mean I’ve done it myself. Or with stuff to help.”
“Price remind me tae blow you later!”
With that he latched on your swollen clit. At first he suckled, humming as he did which drove you fucking mad. Then he pulled off with a slurp, gathered more wetness from your hole on his tongue and drooled it back on your clit. The tip of his tongue flicked at it rapidly, ramping up in speed as your body coiled tighter and tighter.
The noises were erotically disgusting, wet. You tried to tug his hair to get him to let up because you were going to explode, his writhing tongue was about to send you right over the edge.
“S-stop, gonna cum” you panted, trying to hold on.
“That’s the idea hen.”
“The brief said you wanted to… do other things?”
“Aye?”
He had stopped at least and your body was slowly stepping back from the cliff which felt awful. But the brief said he wanted to “69” so you couldn’t cum this early. You just looked down at him debauched between your legs, waiting for him to move on to the next part.
“When ye play with this fat pussy, dae ye stop at one?”
You felt a little panicked at his question. Theoretically, you knew people with your anatomy could have multiple orgasms. In practice you usually just got off and left it at that. It didn’t feel good to keep touching when you were so sensitive after cumming anyway. You sort of shrugged in response.
“Oh hen, you’re going tae gie me 2 like this, 2 when I eat ye from the back and then we can move on so you can have a taste of me. Thinking at least 3 while your lips are wrapped around my cock.”
“I- what? I don’t think I can have that many.”
“Thought I told ye tae stop thinking?” he said with a wink before he dove back in.
If you thought he was giving you his best before, you were quickly disabused of that notion. It took him around 5 seconds. His mouth latched onto you and his tongue eagerly abused your clit without any respite. You rocketed right back to that edge and went tumbling off, thrashing on the bed while he just pinned your hips down and kept going. Your pussy clenched in waves that seemed to never fucking stop.
It was uncomfortable when the orgasm was done but you were still being stimulated and you tried again to shove him away, but fuck he was strong. He refused to be moved, lapping messily at you with a desperation that gave you goosebumps.
“Stop, I can’t!”
“Ye fucking can” he barked back, teeth scraping on your now very oversensitive clit in warning. “Now get your legs up.”
He shoved upwards with his shoulders while his hands forced your legs back, bending you in half. Your hips were tilted now, both of your holes so fully on display for him that it made some undignified sound of humiliation come from you.
He feasted. No part of you escaped him - he licked the seams where your legs met your torso, he sucked on your lips and you wondered if they would bruise with lovebites, he lapped at your rim and had you screeching when he bullied his tongue in, only stopping when a beep sounded in the room.
“Aww fuck off Captain, her arse is fair game for oral!”
Another beep.
“Killjoy. Sorry hen, nae rest for your delicious wee cunt.”
You knew the tongue was a dexterous muscle, but fuck it was insane how he managed to get so much of it inside your pussy. He massaged your walls, flattened and curled the appendage and then flicked it fast. The barest brush of his pinky on your clit was enough to set you off again. You were sure you were nearly pulling his hair out when you came and he drank it up like wine. Decadently, savouring.
His face was a wreck, strings of spit and cum connecting him to you and then snapping and dripping off when he moved his head further away. There was a little blood around his nose, the rest long gone from all the fluids helping to dilute it. You licked your lips only to taste iron. That was right, he may have gotten wet enough to soak it off, but his blood was still all over you.
Fuck he looked drunk. His eyes were unfocused and dreamy, a dopey smile on his face as he went to his knees and looked down at you splayed underneath him. There was a wet spot, a large one, on the duvet. You felt boneless, like you had run a marathon. You weren’t sure you could move. But despite that you couldn’t help but drag your eyes across his still clothed body.
The brief had said he had biologically female genitals, but that his clit was enlarged. You’d never heard of the term t-dick but now it was all you could think about. You wanted to make him feel the way you did, boneless and ready to sleep for two days straight.
“Ask me.”
“What?”
“Can see ye thinking away hen, ask me what it is you’re wanting tae.”
“Oh…” you said, trying to bring your fuzzy brain back online and be brave. “I want to see you. And uh… you know.”
He stripped his t-shirt off with one arm and it was like a damn porno as he tossed it on the floor.
“Cannae say I do hen, ye need tae tell me.”
You sighed in frustration and squeezed your eyes shut.
“Taste you. I want to taste you the way you tasted me.”
“Aye ye do. Still owe me 2 before that though.”
You shot up. He could not be serious. You were already about dead. He could not actually expect you to cum two more times before you even got to the next part of the briefing. You’d fucking die, you were sure of it. You snarled at him when he went to grab you and it was an actual fight.
Your wrestled with him, feeling the burn of something like humiliation whenever your pussy rubbed up somewhere on his body. At one point you tried to lock your legs around his torso, feeling like fireworks went off when you rubbed against the hair running down past the hem of his sweatpants. You squealed in alarm when he wrestled you off and it left a shining wet streak across his skin. You fought hard but you had no chance against him as he roughly got you over onto your knees and shoved hard between your shoulder blades to pin you to the bed.
Your hips wanted to follow, to collapse down, but he didn’t let them. He bullied his knees between yours to spread them and gripped hard onto your hips to give him control over exactly where your hot, wet cunt was. Perfect position for him to dig in.
Another beep.
He grabbed you by the back of the neck and you whimpered when he wrenched your head up and turned it to the camera.
“Tell him ye still ken the safeword” he growled.
“I still know the safeword.”
His other hand cupped your slippery and unbearably tender cunt and gave a warning squeeze.
“You’ll remember yer manners soldier.”
“I still know the safeword, sir.”
Satisfied he pinned your head back to the mattress, returned his hand to your hip and maneuvered you so your hole was at just the right height for him.
He dug in.
Oh God, oh God from this angle anytime his mouth was at your clit the rest of his face was getting soaked by your gushing hole. He seemed so much closer now, like he was somehow inside you. His beard felt like it was ripping your lips apart and the prickly pins of pain were so sharp against the all consuming pleasure.
He was suctioned to you, only ever pulling of for a second to take a deep, gulping breath. There was a reluctance to breathe, to ever do anything but drink you down even if it meant he was half suffocating himself.
You tried to have any coherent thoughts about this. It was insane. You had signed up to help him get this out of his system but so far you were pretty sure you should be hiring him and not the other way around. You never knew this could be so all consuming, that your whole body would be so easily played by someone. You were at his mercy, every thump of your heart sending blood wherever the hell he decided it needed to go.
The next orgasm was powerful. It sent your body wild, your legs violently shaking and a choking scream fighting past your lips. You fucking hated him in that moment. He was so eagerly eating at your cunt, taking so much pleasure from it. It made you want it. You wanted to eat him out. You wanted to feel what he was feeling. But he wanted another orgasm from you first so he wasn’t stopping even with you screaming at him.
“Fuck you! I can’t go again, I can’t! Let me see you, let me taste you Johnny! It’s not fair!”
You’d lost any sense of shame. You think you might have lost any sense at all when you screamed your throat raw as your body fought the stimulation, tried and failed to get away so then just accepted it.
Cumming this time felt different. It was almost sore to have your muscles contract again, so exhausting you wanted to cry and beg to just sleep.
He slowed down, was gentle in cleaning you up with his tongue. When his grip on your hips loosened you collapsed to the bed, panting.
You could hear him taking his sweats off and it was the only thing to will you to turn yourself over onto your back. You needed to see him. You fucking needed it more than you needed anything as inconsequential as rest.
At first you felt like your brain was shorting out. He was standing at the end of the bed, now totally naked. His body was gorgeous, rugged. Your mouth watered as your eyes trailed down, following the path of hair to his pussy. He certainly hadn’t shaved in a panic like you had, the hair was just as thick between his legs as it was everywhere else. His fingers were lazily playing with his clit and you swore it was a cock.
It stood proudly through the thatch of dark hair, was dripping like you imagined a cock would. But that’s what it was. You understood now why the brief had called it a t-cock. Oh God you wanted to kiss, lick, suck - devour him the way he had you.
“Go on then hen, get that wet wee mouth on my cock” he said, his tone that of a man indulging the whims of some silly creature whose desperation he found cute.
You swallowed thickly, your body slow in moving through the exhaustion as you got to your knees and crawled across the bed to him. At first it was just a kitten lick, a little taste. Sweat, salt and something tangy and sweet. He was so slippery beneath your tongue and it was instinct to lap up the liquid, to keep chasing the strange taste.
“That’s it, good lass. There you go” he said, barely above a whisper as if coaxing some scared prey animal.
You shifted to get a more solid position, knees splaying wide to get you the right height and hands gripping his thick thighs. You needed to taste more, feel more. You fucking needed your mouth on him like you needed oxygen. You needed to drink down his arousal, the proof of what his body thought of yours.
He smiled down at you in tentative delight. You were so gone for this, all that trepidation vanished as you savoured the first tasting of him. No longer the shy thing that he had dragged into the room, now an animal understanding that the feast came before all. He knew the place you had went to couldn’t be permanent but while you were there he intended to enjoy it.
There was no skill in what you were doing, just a clumsy and selfish exploration. Your concept of time floated away as you treated his cunt and cock like the mouth of a stranger in the drunken haze of a club, wet, sloppy kisses against the heat of him.
He was dripping down your chin, the red around your mouth tinging pink and eventually being drowned entirely. His hands were massaging softly on your scalp, your shoulders. You wanted to stay here forever. He could not think of a compelling reason why not.
“Fuck, need tae get your taste back on my tongue” he groaned.
You barely registered your body being moved, only focused on keeping that connection to him. You wanted to crawl inside him, live there. Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs when you muscled your tongue inside his hole and felt the walls of him eagerly try to coax you deeper.
He maneuvered his body over yours and somewhere in the recesses of your brain you knew you should find this dangerous. He was big over you, could choose to drop his weight and smother you. Instead you found it comforting, like a warm nest for him to keep you safe and fed in.
“You’re so fucking pretty hen. Want tae keep you all tae myself.”
“You taste so good” you said, words muffled from the now insistent press of his wet cock on your face.
Everything was so wet, so hot. Touch yes, but scent and sound were both soaking, dripping, gushing. The first time he came you thanked him and begged him for more, more, more as your hips writhed up against his mouth.
--
You were sobbing when you came back online. You had been for a while from how tight your chest felt and the way your eyes stung with dryness. You were crying out broken words, begging him, saying you couldn’t.
“Ye can, one more. Just one more.”
Fuck, everything was tender and sore. No wonder you were such a wreck, your body was too wrung of pleasure that it could only give you pain now. He was relentless at your pussy and when you came this time it fucking hurt. Every muscle was cramping horribly.
“No more Johnny” you whined even as he ground his cock clumsily against your face and moaned through his own pained orgasm.
“Aye, one more. Need it hen, fuck. Could die in this pussy.”
You didn’t know how his tongue kept going, yours was useless now. You could only hold it out for him to rut against. You only knew he came again from how he howled. Your face was so covered in him that another flood barely registered. You really couldn’t anymore. You felt like you were about to die.
“Red.”
You mumbled it so softly and deliriously that you weren’t expecting anything to come of it, but he patted your flank and rolled off of you to lay on his back and pant.
“Jesus Christ hen, where the fuck did Price find you?” he said, voice hoarse and rough.
You couldn’t move. He didn’t seem mad at all that you had safe worded out at least. No, instead he pulled himself up with a long groan to flop down beside you.
“Gie me 20 minutes for a cuddle and a nap then I’ll get ye all cleaned up aye? I’ll let ye use my conditioner.”
And then he was snoring in your ear, his sweaty body wrapped around yours as you drifted off to unconsciousness.
Price was exhausted. He hadn’t intended to wank to you, but you had put those big, wet eyes on the camera and called him sir and then all bets were off. Christ alive the two of you had went for hours, writhing like animals on that bed.
He though after he had cum it would relief the pressure, but then you had so sweetly crawled over to lap at his boy’s cunt and he got hard all over again.
Soap certainly did owe him a blow job. You had been perfect for him, let him push his pleasure too far like he loved. And now there you both were boneless and passed out in puddles of arousal. He groaned imagining how the room must smell.
But he wasn’t needed. Soap was exhausted himself yes, but he enjoyed looking after a lover after such an intense experience and Price would not deprive him of that.
Part of him was tempted to change the plan, get you to one of the residents earlier, one of the ones who would ruin you so badly that you would need Price afterwards.
Thankfully, he was just about a good man when he dismissed the thought.
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coeurify · 1 year ago
Note
I have no idea how this would fit into an storyline but I am a hoe for fake dating. Imagine fake dating with abby and it slowly becoming too real
UGH YOU GET ME FAKE DATING IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE TROPES!!
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⋆˚✿˖° now, abby anderson had a problem. specifically a blonde, brown eyed loud mouthed man of a problem. owen fucking moore. she had broken up with him in the summer time, little explanation given to the ass of a boyfriend other than that she needed to “find herself.” (not that she needed to give any.)
⋆˚✿˖° but owen? oh owen didn’t accept that. so from the very moment abby had broken it off, to when the air began to smell like fall.. he pestered abby. asked for a reason, begged for another chance (despite HIM going around with damn near every girl on the WLF compound.)
⋆˚✿˖° things came to a head at a get together in one of abby and owen’s mutual friend’s apartment style quarters. mutual friend who also happened to be your roommate.
⋆˚✿˖° abby and owen fought all night, abby’s cheeks red from embarrassment and anger, eyebrows furrowed together. “why can’t you just take no for an answer owen?“ the cup in her hand crackled a bit under the pressure when the man scoffed. “because you never give me a real answer!” abby’s arms crossed at that, searching around the room. quickly, and maybe a little impulsively, she shrugged. “i’m into someone else now.”
⋆˚✿˖° owen just couldn’t accept that, his arms thrown around dramatically. “so you like another guy? that’s why you wont give me another chance? you know i can treat you better.” that sentence alone reminded abby just why she hated being with him so much, but again that fast moving brain of hers spoke before the thought could finish, finger pointing in the direction of the first person she found.. you. “it’s not a guy. it’s a girl. im not.. into your..” abby made a motion, “species anymore.” sure, it was sort of true. abby recently realized she probably had a thing for girls, but you particularly? she couldn’t count on her fingers the amount of conversations she had with. “i like her.”
⋆˚✿˖° you, who’s head poked up, mouth full of slightly stale chips, having heard the whole conversation. abby anderson, beautiful, funny, madeyouweakintheknees, abby anderson was into you? and not straight? surely not. you swallowed harshly, deciding to play into whatever game abby seemed to have set on the floor. you made your way over, an award winning smile on your face as owen’s mouth dropped open further than a damn infected. “You like her? as in girls?”
⋆˚✿˖° honestly, you probably caused more trouble when you stood near the two, “abs!” you grinned, “you forgot your jacket here.. cmere ill grab it for you.” and then your hand is wrapped around her tensed bicep, the stiffness likely caused by her pure shock you even played along. still, she used it as an out from the devil with blonde locks, shrugging almost apologetically at owen before letting you whisk her away.
⋆˚✿˖° and that night, after everyone but you and abby had stumbled out of the cramped room, which was still humid and heavy, you made the plan. with a pen that had little ink left, scratching against the water damaged pages of the notebook you tucked under your pillow, you wrote the words “project get rid of owen moore.” which ok, in retrospect sounded really bad. but you were a little tipsy.
⋆˚✿˖° the plan was easy. play the role of abby’s first girlfriend, convince owen she was totally not into him or men anymore. what did you get out of it? a spot on the top dog abby anderson’s patrol team. something you had been vying for this year. abby agreed, although a little hesitantly. she promised she had picked you only because its who her pointed finger found first. not any actual attraction. you swallowed down the hit to your ego that brought.
⋆˚✿˖° and honestly? the plan went on pretty steadily. you were a damn good fake girlfriend if you had to admit it, and abby didn’t hate being around you. in fact, she really enjoyed being around you. she enjoyed how easily your fingers reached down, tapping on her palm to fing a way to hold her hand whenever one of owen’s posey was around. she enjoyed how you leaned in whenever owen passed by, your lips on her ear, whispering anything you knew would have her smiling. a fake smile of course.
⋆˚✿˖° you two had some pretty strict rules. no kissing, no extreme touchiness, absolutely no spilling to anyone this was fake, and the most important.. no real feelings. you had come up with a backstory, one you two had studied together. (you two met in the training room after your roommate introduced you two and totally hit it off. abby got you a spot on her team next to her and manny, and feeling bloomed from there.) abby added in a few details she knew would piss owen off.. and you sealed your lips shut to follow the rules.
⋆˚✿˖° the first few weeks were easy. you liked spending time around abby. you enjoyed how she smiled, you laughed at all the jokes she cracked (for the fake dating points of course..), and you loved training with her. you had to ignore the shiver her hands on your shoulders or waist gave, knowing it was just to help your position. “you have to fix your stance if you plan on fighting scars..” abby huffed.
⋆˚✿˖° the problem started in october. a month and a half into your fake dating plan. tens of lunches spent alone together, a handful of new hair styles you begged to try on abby, and around 5 missions out of the base, in. there was a party, one you demanded the two of you go to one day as you lounged on abby’s bunk— watching as she cleaned up manny’s mess across the room. “if we dress up together, owen will totally finally get off your case,” you assured, bringing a loud sigh from the blonde. “oh my god.. fine.”
⋆˚✿˖° you went as a angel and devil, simple enough to easy stitch together some devil horns for yourself and an angel halo you found in an old broken down store in the city for abby. no way did you admit the trouble you went for to find it to abs, especially not as she easily pulled her shirt off in front of you, totally clueing you in to where the nickname came from as she shoved on the white teeshirt.
⋆˚✿˖° see, the no kissing rule was an important one, but vodka made everything seem less important, and owen was awfully loud that night, scoffing any time you smiled and leaned into your angel, head band tilting off your head, which abby fixed with a grin. “you two act more like friends than people fucking each other,” owen scoffed as he pressed by you two, the words pounding in abby’s ears over the loud mingling voices.
⋆˚✿˖° “kiss me,” abby called over the old cd that played on the speakers, her cheeks red with anger— blue eyes flicking around. “what?” you laughed, thinking back to rule number 1. “i know we said no— no kissing but i just.. oh my god just kiss me,” abby muttered, her large hands gripping your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss, one she was sure owen was watching on to. one you melted into, sucking her lip in between yours.
⋆˚✿˖° that had been a breaking point, ragged breaths and heated necks as you pulled away. it lead to more excuses with less validity being used when the two of you stared at each other’s lips. stepping down the stairs of the base, eyes catching on someone who just looked like owen. “kiss me,” abby muttered quickly, and you wasted no time to turn your head and fill your nose with the scent of pine as you leaned in.
⋆˚✿˖° the no kissing rule crossed off right before the no touchiness one did, that one had been scribbled off completely when abby began pulling you into her lap in group functions, one soft hand rubbing up against your side as she whispered in your ear, “jus’ for show.”
⋆˚✿˖° just for show of course, but you screamed into your pillow for so long that night you almost thought the walls of your room would crumble down along with the barrier you put between you and the blonde.
⋆˚✿˖° kisses and touchiness turned to nights spent in abby’s room, mornings waking up and having abby’s shirt thrown at your face. “wear that, owen got it for me when we were dating.” sure, you probably should be ashamed to be wearing the clothes of a girl who didn’t like you, but the frown on owen’s face made it worth it.
⋆˚✿˖° that last rule, the one that didn’t have pen strokes over the letters, the one locked behind awkward coughs and side glances, well you weren’t sure who broke it first. you dont know why feelings came into play, but you sure do know it happened.
⋆˚✿˖° you felt it first when abby didn’t talk to you for a few days. you saw her across the stadium with nora, her head tilted back lightly in a laugh at something the other girl said. that was the first time you felt the needle sized ache in your heart, one that only ripped further when owen shoulder checked you on his way by, “better get your girl. she slips away easily.”
⋆˚✿˖° maybe that rule had been broken when abby stormed into your room, met with the sight of you on the couch with some other blonde girl, an old tape of a southern movie mid way through when anderson scoffed and demanded the girl get out. she did so in a hurry, scrambling for her sweatshirt as a frown grew on your lips. “abby what the fuck?” you scoff, watching her eyebrows unfurrow lightly. “you can’t have other girls over! it fucks with our plan,” she accused, though she stumbled lightly over the words. “she’s just a friend, abby.”
⋆˚✿˖° however, the night you sat in your bed, breath heavy and eyes stinging as you broke through the paper with the pen, scratching over the words “no real feelings,” that came in the end of november.
⋆˚✿˖° your head was pressed into abby’s shoulder, yawning and closing your eyes as the movie played on a big sheet, a biweekly occurrence in the WLF base. abby had pressed to your cheek, placing a kiss to it that had some sort of butterfly attack take fruition in your stomach. you two didn’t even know if owen or his friends were around, and they for sure were not the reason of abby’s hand linking into yours as you two walked toward her room later that night. you both seemed to realize that when you reached her door and she leaned forward just lightly, as if to kiss you.
⋆˚✿˖° she cleared her throat, licking over the lips you wanted to capture again. “i think-” she said suddenly, squeezing her eyes closed. “i think owen really believes it now.” you could feel your heart sinking to the empty stomach that laid below your chest, knowing what came next. “i think we should break up.��� abby finished, quick to add, “fake break up.”
⋆˚✿˖° you nodded along silently to the story she built still standing in her doorway. miscommunication, arguments, differing plans, the whole shebang— anything to make the breakup believable. you agreed, but the moment her door shut, a half smile and thank you sitting on her lips as the door locked, you felt the tears prick your eyes.
⋆˚✿˖° you wiped quickly at the tears, your hand slapped over the aching chest you swore betrayed you. you sucked in shallow breaths, shaky hands finding your own door as your vision went blurry.
⋆˚✿˖° as your pen broke through the white sheet of paper, you cursed your own heart. you cursed it for being so easy to rip from your chest, presented on a platter for a blonde who only saw it as a fake replica. you threw the notebook across the floor, hand slapping over your mouth so your roommate wouldn’t wake as you sobbed into it. surely you had been the only one to break that rule, but that didn’t matter now.
⋆˚✿˖° but you were wrong. not that you could know that. a five minute walk away, abby breathed out slowly as her fingers scraped though the braid she was undoing, an odd stinging pricked at the corner of her lashes. she knew she did the right thing. she knew it as soon as her lips searched for your own at her doorway tonight. so why did it feel so bad? why did her hands tremble as she pulled out her blanket and climbed under it, squeezing her eyes shut.
⋆˚✿˖° if this was all fake, why did the break up feel so real?
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carlottawllms · 8 months ago
Text
Fake It Till You Make It
Mason Mount x Reader Fluff Autor’s note: So many of you wanted the fake dating trope, so here you go. I know this probably feels a little rushed and I apologise cause I know it’s not my best work, but I’m struggling a lot atm, so I'm just really proud of even finishing it. I have so many ideas but so little motivation to actually sit down and write…so, I’m sorry!
As always, feedback is very much appreciated. Enjoy! 🩷
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As you looked at Ava, your best friend since nursery and her soon-to-be husband Benny, you still couldn’t believe they were actually going to get married.
She’d met him a couple of years ago during a night out. It had been planned as a girls night, but Benny had entered the picture with one of the most awful pick-up-lines you’d ever heard, but Ava had just laughed and ended up giving him a chance to speak to her for a little while.
You hadn’t understood back then and you were till certain, you would’ve kicked his arse for that lame chat-up, but maybe that was why you were still single, whilst your best friend would say yes in a white dress soon…
It hadn’t been a huge surprise Ava had picked you as her maid of honour, but you’d been in tears anyway and when she’d told you that Mason, one of Benny’s best friends would be your partner in crime as the best man, you’d been more than relieved.
You’d met Mason around a year into Ava’s and Benny’s relationship on the latter’s birthday party. After third wheeling them for a while, you and Benny had become close friends too so naturally, he’d invited you to his birthday as well.
Mason and you had hit it off well pretty quickly. He was an easy-going and open-minded person and although he could be a bit shy sometimes, he was a joy to spend time with. Which was also what made the whole planning for the wedding a lot easier than if he was someone you didn’t get along with at all.
The four of you had been sitting together for a few hours now already, discussing all the things that still needed to be tackled and whilst it obviously was some sort of a serious situation, you and Mason couldn’t hold back from making inside jokes and giggling at each other’s comments.
When Ava pulled you into the kitchen, claiming she had some snacks to grab for you all, you were pretty sure she’d give you a talking to for not taking everything serious enough.
To your biggest surprise though, she grinned when she turned around. “Soooo…you and Mason, huh?”
“We’re friends Ava, you know that.” You rolled your eyes at her. This wasn’t the first time she’d made a comment like this, but after you’d slightly lost your shit last time, you’d thought that she would just let it go…Clearly she wasn’t planning on doing so though. “I’ve told you before and nothing’s changed ever since. Why can’t you just let it go?”
“Because you’d be great together.”, she stated. “He’s a good one, you know that. And you can’t deny that he’s your type, can you?”
“Ava, I don’t need a man. I’m pretty focused on everything that’s going on in my life anyway and now your wedding too, obviously. I don’t have time for a relationship.”
“Oh y/n honey, a relationship doesn’t require time. You’re spending an awful amount of time with him anyway, there’s not much that would change, you know that. So why are you so dead set on refusing to be happy with him?”
You sighed deeply and ran a hand down your face. This wasn’t a conversation you ever wanted to happen and especially not when Mason was sitting just one room away. You hated showing a vulnerable side like this…even in front of your best friend. Opening up wasn’t like you…keeping your cards to yourself and sorting everything with yourself was what you preferred.
But you knew Ava wouldn’t let this one go anytime soon.
“Look…I’m not saying he’s not my type and yes, we obviously get along well, but there’s women falling to his feet left and right and most of them are gorgeous models in expensive clothes, with skinny legs and a flat tummy. You’ve seen the articles and everything too, so stop pushing me.”
“Hun, they’re just rumours nothing more. He’s a famous footballer, of course the press is all over him and using his name for some clicks.”, Ava smiled sympathetically. “Don’t you think he would’ve made a move already if he was interested in one of them? Look, he’s young, he’s handsome and obviously he’s having some fun, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t settle for the right woman. Maybe it’s you, you know? But you won’t find out until you give it a shot.”
Having some fun…the thought alone of him shagging any of those women made you feel like you wanted to throw up. They were probably super sexy in their lingerie, stretching on the bed like those underwear models did, whilst you wouldn’t look half as good even if you tried…
You shook yourself out of your thoughts. “Can we not discuss this anymore please, Ava?”   
Your best friend sighed in defeat, but still nodded; understanding you felt a bit uncomfortable and with the snacks she’d wanted to grab in hand, she ushered you back into the living room.
You knew the topic was far from over and that she wouldn’t just let it go like you asked. You just hoped she’d tone it down a touch.
However, your hopes should be crushed not less than a couple of days later when you and Mason were sitting together to sort some wedding stuff.
He’d freshly cut his hair into this quiff and you had a hard time taking your eyes off him. He looked handsome…more so than he normally did anyway and on top of that he was chewing on a gum you’d stupidly offered him a while ago. He looked hot as hell, and he wasn’t even trying.
In an attempt to gather your senses, you vanished into the kitchen to place the order for yours and Mason’s dinner. You already regretted having invited him to stay, but then again you hadn’t expected him to show up without this mohawk that had made him look slightly less attractive to you.
Even from the kitchen you noticed your phone alerting you of several new messages and when it didn’t stop, you called for Mason to check it.
“y/n?”, you heard him ask before a few seconds late he showed up in the kitchen, looking utterly confused. “Why’s Ava sending you photos of me, asking if you think I look hot?”
Your heart dropped to your tummy in embarrassment. You could feel how your cheeks turned into flaming red patches of skin within seconds as you snatched your phone out of his hands, but damage was obviously done.
“I’ll kill her.”
Mason saw just how serious you were, but he couldn’t help and find the situation slightly hilarious. If this was what he thought it was, you seemed to be in a slightly similar situation as he found himself in.
“You can admit that you think I’m hot, you know?”, he laughed. Stepping closer, he poked your sides and made you squirm, but when you tried to shuffle away from him, he was quick in pulling you into a hug. “So, do you think so?”
“She’s trying to play matchmaker.”, you sighed, still incredibly embarrassed he’d seen the messages. “She’s been sending me photos for days now. I think she’s tired of my single ass and it seems like you’re her latest victim in this game.”
“I think she’s doing a good job.” His chest rumbled right beneath your skin as he chuckled. “She’s pointing out all my best features from what I’ve seen. My eyes, my bum, my no-”
“Mase.”, you groaned. You knew he was trying to get you to laugh at it too, but you were too humiliated to do so. “Can we not talk about this please?”
“Okay, okay.”, he agreed. Pulling away from him, you could still detect that cheeky grin on his lips though, telling you everything about how he wasn’t done with the topic yet and you were already dreading his next comment. “But you know what they say about noses and the refere-”
“Mason!”
Laughing to himself he made sure to leave the kitchen as quickly as possible, trying to avoid you hitting him in jest, but he couldn’t help himself. You were too adorable when you were embarrassed.  
Giving you a bit of a break, Mason made sure to direct both of your attention back to what you were supposed to be doing: Finding a wedding gift for Ava and Benny. Of all the things the pair of you had to do, this one seemed to be the hardest and even after a while, you’d still not decided on what you wanted.
At some point, you simply gave up and sunk back into the cushions, chatting away whilst waiting for the food to arrive and thankfully it didn’t take too long.
“Fancy watching a bit of baby reindeer?”
“I’m not sure why you’re asking, when you’ve already put it on.”, you laughed when he’d selected the series before you’d even had the chance to say yes or no.  
“Oh, c’mon, you.”, he laughed. “As if you’d ever say no to watching it with me, you muppet.”
Laughing along, you moved over a little and pulled your blanket over your tucked knees. Usually, neither of you were shy of a little cuddle, but for some reason the whole thing with Ava’s messages was still playing in the back of your mind. You had no idea what he actually thought of them, if they’d made him uncomfortable cause he’d simply laughed it off, but it bothered you more than you were willing to admit.
“Why’re you so far away?”, he pouted not soon after though. Obviously unhappy with your choice of staying on your side of the sofa. “Move that cute little bum over here, you meanie.”
You wanted to refuse, you really wanted to, but the way he held his arm out for you with that adorable pout on his lips had you scrambling over in mere seconds, and you relaxed into his side.
For a while, both of you were engrossed in the episode, slightly creeped out by it all, but neither of you could deny how catching it actually was. You didn’t think you’d watch it by yourself, but with Mason holding you like this provided you with enough safety, to still feel comfortable.
“Why don’t we just pretend then?”, he suddenly asked, causing you to look at him confused. “Dating I mean.”, he explained, sitting up a little. “We could pretend we’re seeing each other.”
“What? Mase, why the hell would we do that?”
“To have out peace and quiet, obviously you wally.”, he laughed, but you still looked at him as if he’d grown a second head.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”, you eventually managed to get out. It was a bad idea, you knew that already. Well, the overall idea wasn’t too bad, but the fact that you knew already, that it would be you ending with a broken heart made it the absolute worst idea anyone had ever had.
When Ava had asked if he was your type, you hadn’t given her an answer, but truth be told, he absolutely was and you liked him more than you should. Mason had everything a man needed to have for you to be falling for him.
And that combined with fake dating made a terrible, terrible combination.
“Why not?”, he pouted, his big brown eyes gazing into yours as if you didn't already have problems keeping your cool when he was around.  “Just think about it for a second. It would get Ava out of your hair and benny would stop trying to set me up with girls I don’t like. It’s a win win.”  
“Doesn’t look like you don’t like them.” You’d not meant to say it out loud, but when you caught his questioning look you realised you accidentally had. “The photos…I’ve seen them and…it didn’t look like you didn’t like her.”
“What pho-…oh.” It took Mason a second to understand where you were coming from, but when he did, the slight embarrassment of being caught overcame him. “You mean Tara.”
You watched him scratching the back of his head as he blushed and the way he got so flustered was all you needed to see to have your doubts confirmed. Fake dating was a really shit idea – especially when he was emotionally involved with someone else.
“I’ve seen her a couple of times, yes, but it’s not thanks to Benny.”
“That would make fake dating even weirder, don’t you think?”
“Well, first of all, Tara and I aren’t exclusive of anything official. She knows it wasn’t more than a casual thing for a couple of times to see if anything could potentially come out of it.”, he explained awkwardly and from the way you kept fiddling with your fingers in your lap and avoided his gaze he could tell that you felt the same. “And secondly, nothing would change for us. Like…we hang out all the time anyway, just like you come to my games already. It basically won’t look different to anyone other than Ava and Benny. We’ll just tell them that we’re dating to see where it could go, you know? I won’t post on Instagram or whatever, you’ll still be my best friend.”
You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t sound tempting. Would you have to go through the whole I-told-you-so-conversation with Ava? Yes. But would she stop pestering you afterwards? Also yes.
“I don’t know, Mase.”, you whispered, feeling his gaze on you as you chew on your bottom lip, trying to find a reason to tell him no without revealing your feelings. “Wouldn’t it feel weird?”
Mason held your gaze when he grabbed your hand and pushed his fingers in between yours. “Does it feel weird?” You didn’t answer his question, but he felt you tightening your grip on his hand a little. “It won’t be for long, y/n. Just until after their big day so they can enjoy the time up to their wedding and the day itself too. Imagine Ava spending half her wedding day wondering if you have someone to dance with.”
A breathy laugh flew past your lips cause you knew he was right. Ava would most definitely check in on you more often that she should instead of enjoying her time with all the guests and whilst you still weren’t convinced at all of his crazy idea, you couldn’t help but feel something at the thought of having him by your side for the whole wedding.
“You know I’m right, y/n.”, Mason said gently, trying not to push you too far. “I won’t force you, it’s up to you. Just think about it, okay?”
“Promise it won’t change anything between us?”
His heart squeezed at the way you looked and sounded so worried. He knew you appreciated him and valued his friendship more than you’d ever said, just like he did the other way around and he hated to see you like this.
“I promise, y/n.”, he smiled. “We’ll go back to being friends and it’s going to be like nothing ever happened. Not that anything will happen, but you know what I mean.”
You sighed deeply, before nodding slowly. It was a stupid idea. A very stupid one.
“Pinky promise?”
Mason laughed softly, but held his pinky out nonetheless. “Pinky promise.”
-
But Mason was only partially right.
At first glance, the only thing that really changed was when you were with Benny and Ava. You held hands, cuddled when it felt like it was the right thing to do and Mason kissed your temple or cheek ever so often. He was touchy with you; always had his hands on you in one way or another and made sure to call you all sorts of cute pet names.
For you, however, everything changed.
In the beginning, it was mostly only the two of you meeting to discuss things, but the closer you got to the wedding, the more often the four of you came together. The moments when Mason pretended to be your boyfriend increased - as did the palpitations he triggered in you. You’d liked him before, but the longer the two of you carried on, the more certain you were that you didn’t just like him.
It scared the shit out of you. Just like the inevitable heartbreak that was closing in on you. And the more time you spent together, the worse it got and at a certain point you felt like it was suffocating you.
Luckily for you, you were usually able to hide your feelings well. Or so you thought.
“Earth to y/n?” When Mason gently placed his hand on your thigh, you were startled out of your thoughts. “This is like the third time you zoned out, is everything okay?”
“Oh erm…yes, I’m good, sorry. It’s just a lot.” Your cheeks were burning, embarrassment creeping up your veins.
You and him were sat up on your sofa, trying to finalise your speeches for the wedding reception, but your thoughts kept wandering. The last three meetings had been with Ava and Benny and not having Mason holding your hand or pulling you into his side now felt weird and as if something big was missing.
He could only assume how much pressure the added stress of the upcoming wedding had put on your shoulders. Ava was your best friend and you, as a perfectionist, had a hard time organising everything in a way that would ensure their day would be as perfect as possible. Mason had realised this early on and had tried to take some of the pressure off you by praising you for your good ideas, but he could only do so much.
“y/n.”, he sighed, pulling the blanket away a little so he could hold his arm out. “C’mere.”
You dropped your sheets of paper and pen on the small coffee table, before shuffling over and cuddling into his side. The warmth and comfort surrounding you the moment Mason wrapped his arms around your frame relieved the tension in your shoulders almost immediately and you couldn’t help but bury your face in the crook of his neck to suppress the urge to cry.
You were aware that it was a combination of several factors and not just your growing feelings for the handsome man who would never be yours, but the latter was what hurt you the most.
“It’s going to be okay, you know?”, Mason hummed softly. He cupped the back of your head with one hand, fingers applying gentle pressure on your scull and down your neck, whilst his other arm stayed wrapped tightly around your waist; effectively caging you against his body. “You’re doing a great job, the wedding is going to be amazing, and Ava and Benny will have the best day, thanks to all you’ve done.”
Mason pressed his lips to the top of your head, softly inhaling your familiar scent. He was beyond nervous too, but the way you clung to him like a koala just told him everything he needed to know about your state.
He kept you in his hold for a little longer, gently humming and trying to calm you down as he could feel your hot tears on his neck, but after a while, you peeled away from him and wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your hoodie.
“Better?” Mason carefully reached out and caught a final last tear rolling down your cheek, before cupping your jaw and kissing your forehead. “Would you like to hear my speech now? I’m sure it will make you laugh again.”
You had no doubt that it would. He was one of the funniest people you’d ever met; a quick wit who always had a funny comment up his sleeve. If you needed someone to cheer you up, it would always be Mason you’d choose.
“Go on then, Mr. Mount.”, you nodded, the smile back on your lips, and you sat back and relaxed into the cushions, watching him take a deep breath.
“So, for those of you who don’t know me, I’m Mason, one of Benny’s best friends and the lucky guy he asked to be his best man. I’ve known Benny for basically my whole life now and can honestly say that he’s not only handsome, funny and brilliant, but also very caring and cha-…Benny, I can’t read your writing, what’s this word supposed to say?”
You shot him an incredulous look before laughing out loud; not believing he’d actually decided to stick with the idea he’d shown you on TikTok a couple of weeks ago.
Mason and you had been trying to write your respective speeches for weeks now, but especially he had struggled a lot with it. He just hadn’t felt quite confident about the whole thing, so he’d had a little snoop on TikTok and Instagram and in one of those videos the best man had attempted the same joke Mason had put into his speech now too.
“Think it’s too much?”
“No, it’s hilarious, Mase.”, you laughed. “They will love it, no doubt. Please go on.”
And go on he did. He delivered one of the best speeches you’d ever witnessed and whilst the beginning was more on the funny side, the rest was filled with honest and raw emotions that had you on the brink of tears again as you sat there in awe, watching him meaning every single word of it.
“Benny, I’m still confused how you managed to win Ava over with that god-awful pick-up line in that club back then, but I’m really glad you did. In Ava you found the love you deserve and Ava, I can assure you that in Benny you have someone who will always have your back. I know that you will both make each other very happy. What the two of you have is so rare and perfect, it’s something I can only wish for myself to find at some point in my life. You are endgame and I couldn’t be happier for you. So, everyone, please raise your glasses to the bride and groom, congratulations!”
Nervously, Mason lowered the sheet of paper into his lap. He’d been so focused on not messing up that he hadn't had the chance to observe your reactions at all and although he was rather proud of what he’d managed to put together, your opinion was very important to him and would probably have a big impact on the outcome too. But when he looked at you staring at him with your lips slightly parted and tears rolling down your cheeks, his heart skipped a beat.
“The woman who’ll get to marry you one day will be so lucky.”, you whispered, unable to form proper sentences as you were too overcome with emotions. His speech was so touching and loving and the way he’d included your best friend and what he’d said about her…he was just the perfect man, and you hated the position you’d got yourself into.
Mason just chuckled at your words and dropped his head as he could feel his cheeks heating up, but eventually he shuffled over and pulled you into a hug; his face finding a home in the crook of your neck.
“Seriously Mase, that’s such a beautiful speech.” You gently wrapped your arms around his broad frame, one hand coming up to the back of his head to scratch his skull and when it caused him to hum in content, you squeezed him a little tighter. “There’s nothing you should change about it.”
“Thank you, love.”
-
The time leading up to the wedding day flew by like nothing ever had. Mason and you had spent another countless of hours finalising everything and making sure everything was up to perfection and whilst you were truly proud of everything the two of you had managed to contribute to this special day, you couldn’t hold back the slight relief that overcame you the moment you and Mason sat down at your designated places in the venue.
“Stop being so nervous.”, he laughed quietly. “You’re a snotty mess already. Do I even want to know what kind of a nervous wreck you’ll be on your own wedding day?”
You had no idea how he could be so composed and calm on a day like today, but you were glad he was as he managed to calm your nerves a little too.
Mason leaned forward and cupped your chin as he carefully dabbed at the tears spilling over. “C’mon, stop those tears now, love. There’s no need for them.”
The way he was suddenly so close had your heart in your throat. His big brown eyes stared into your own and you were sure the whole world had stopped for a moment, making it just you two an no one else, but the start of the music quickly brough you back into the here and now.
The two of you joined all the other guests in getting up from your seats for the bride’s entrance and just when you thought you’d collected yourself, you felt Mason’s hand wrapping around yours and giving it a tight squeeze.
“No more tears, love.”, he whispered before he pressed a soft kiss to your temple.
You were absolutely fucked.
A few hours later, you and Mason could finally relax properly. Just like you’d expected, he’d killed his speech and made everyone laugh and cry and even though you didn’t think of yourself as the greatest speaker, you were still happy of how you’d delivered yours.
You’d just watched Ava and Benny perfectly showing off their skills with their wedding dance, when Mason turned to face you.
“Would you do me the honour and dance with me, Ms y/l/n?” Just like the gentleman he was, he held his hand out for you to accept with a soft smile dancing on his lips.
“It would be my pleasure, Mr Mount.”
You placed your hand in his warm one and let him lead you onto the dance floor. He pulled you closer to his body, before placing his hands on your waist and naturally, yours moved around his neck.
He was closer than he’d ever been to you today, his perfume clouding your senses a little and when his eyes met yours, your knees went weak.
Mason had always been handsome – maybe the most handsome man you’d ever laid your eyes on – but today was something entirely else. The suit was perfectly fitted and made him look ten times more attractive than he already was and the quiff he’d touched up just before the wedding made his face seem even softer.
His big brown eyes and the freckles scattering all over his skin stood out the most to you, but the way he curled his lips into that sweet smile was what had you blushing like mad.
Your heart was thundering in your chest from the proximity, but also because all of sudden it hit you, that this was probably the last time you’d be this close. You’d agreed on ending the fake dating right after the wedding as Ava and Benny would leave for their three weeks honeymoon anyway and the realisation suddenly weighed heavy on your chest.
The moment you could feel the tears burning behind your eyes, you dropped your head to his chest and as if he knew, Mason pulled you even closer. You could feel him running his hand up and down your spine; your open-back-dress making you feel his hot touch right on your skin and just like that, a first tear fell.
This was it. This was the moment you’d been dreading. The moment the inevitable heartbreak grabbed you with its cold claws, pulling you away from the best man anyone could ever ask for.
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”, Mason whispered.
It was as if the world had suddenly stopped turning. Maybe not the whole world, but yours certainly had. You pulled away slowly, wanting to take a step back as there was no way he’d meant it, but Mason’s hands kept their firm grip on your waist.
“What?”
“I do.”, Mason breathed, making it sound as if he’d realised it just now. “I’m falling in love with you.”
He brought one hand up and cupped your jaw, gently wiping at the few tears spilling over your waterline. His big brown eyes were focused on yours, practically staring into your soul and pouring ever ounce of honesty right into you, making sure there wasn’t a single cell in your body thinking he was lying.
“I…I don’t…why?”
The small chuckle falling from his lips was adorable and had your heart skipping a beat, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening.
Here you were, still slowly swaying to the music that had faded into some sort of background noise. Mason’s fingers pushing into the small of your back, whilst the other hand was still holding your jaw, keeping your face tilted upright and your gaze on his.
“Because…”, he smiled. “Because you’re you. I just…I feel safe with you, like nothing bad can happen. You’re this ray of sunshine, that I’ve always needed in my life. You make me smile when all I want to do is break down and even when I don’t want anyone around, you’re the exception. You are this ridiculously beautiful person with a heart of gold, and you let me be myself around you without ever judging me for it. You make me feel as if being with me is easy when it is everything but.”
Mason carefully pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers just about touching your skin making you shiver.
“I know we started this as some sort of ploy to get Ava and Benny out of our hair, but to be honest…I’ve always known it was you. Right from the moment I met you. I can’t get you out of my head, y/n and I know it sounds whipped and pathetic, but-”
“It doesn’t.”, you whispered as you brought your hand up to his neck, fingers gently brushing through the soft strands of his hair. “I- I don’t even know what to say. It’s…you-”
Your voice cracked when Mason nudged his nose against yours, a small smile pulling at the corner of his lips.
“I’m falling in love with you, too.”
And with that, you leaned in and closed the final distance to meet his lips in a hesitant, careful first kiss.
393 notes · View notes
cameronspecial · 10 months ago
Note
I saw you were looking for some angst ideas lmao
So rafe and reader are together. Loves her more than life but his addiction gets in the way of that. One night they have a fuming argument and she doesn’t talk to him for a few days. He then makes a plan for them to talk about it somewhere private at nighttime, but when she shows up he’s not there. She waits for him for a while then she gets attacked by the rafes dealers because he owes them money and she was the next bet. Rafe finds her and he’s freaking out but she won’t let him near her and she blames him. You can choose how this ending goes or if you even want to write this but this has been on my mind
You Deserve Better
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Drug Use, Swearing, Stabbing, Blood, and Death
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.1K
Masterlist
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The centre of Rafe’s life wasn’t always the white powder that tumbled around the little Ziploc bag that lined his pockets. His centre is supposed to snort or wheeze a little whenever she laughs, refusing to use her inhaler because she doesn’t want to embarrass him. It will stay up past her bedtime because she is in a flow with her work. His sun crosses her eyeballs whenever he presses a kiss on her nose because she knows it would make him chuckle. Y/N Y/L/N used to be his rock and now, all because of an accident, she isn’t anymore. That is something not a lot of people know. They assume his addiction started because he was a bored rich kid who had the money to spare. However, in reality, it began with a torn ACL. One wrong shift of his leg and his football career was over. At first, the oxycodone was only to manage the pain from the ACL surgery. He had the hope that he could recover the way he needed to get back on the field, but then the news came that he wasn’t progressing the way his doctor wanted… That was when the problem started, suddenly the drug he was taking to help ease his physical pain became the one to take away his mental pain too. The pain of not being able to play football. The pain of missing out. The pain of not knowing where his life was going.
Don’t get him wrong, Y/N was by his side the whole time, except a person can’t be everything to someone else and he needed a therapist. He just wasn’t ready to admit that. It was only when he stopped being prescribed oxycodone that he turned to cocaine to fill the mental hole the prescription used to be for.
———
Rafe’s blown pupils are hidden by his eyelids as he lies back on the couch. Y/N is still out with her friends, so he isn’t sleeping. Not when she is not at home. The front door opening and closing makes him jerk forward. His eyelids are just a sliver because the light from the ceiling is too bright for him. Her footsteps approach the living room and the large sigh she lets out makes her arrival known. “You didn’t do the dishes,” she states, her hand resting on her jut-out hip. “And the hole in the hallway is still there.” Yesterday, Rafe, in a high state, accidentally made a hole in the wall when trying to put up a picture frame for her. He promised her before she left for work this morning that he would get what he needed to fix it this morning and in the afternoon, he would fix it. However, before he could get himself to the store, he saw a post from one of his old football teammates, who went pro and he spiralled. 
He doesn’t mean to roll his eyes, yet it happens and this causes her to let out another huff. “I didn’t get a chance to go to the store,” he grumbles like he didn’t care. He really did though. He wanted to be able to do something that simple for the girl who meant everything to him, except his mind seemed to disagree with his heart. It is easier to pretend it doesn’t bother him. Her eyes narrow in on the residue of powder on their coffee table, “Let me guess, you got your nose caught up in some business. Rafe, you promised me you wouldn’t do that shit at home.” He can’t keep looking at the way tears start to appear because he knows how worried she gets when he does drugs, always scared he might overdose. He looks anywhere but at her. “Don’t get on my ass about this again Y/N. You don’t know what I am dealing with,” he argues.
“I don’t and that’s the problem. You need to talk to someone about how you are feeling because you are going to put yourself in an early grave if you keep doing what you are doing now.”
“Seriously, we are going to argue about this again because I didn’t do the dishes or fix a little hole in the wall.”
“No, we are going to argue about it because you aren’t the man I fell in love with anymore and I don’t think if I can do this anymore. I want to be by your side to help you get better but if you don’t want to, then I don’t know if I can be here forever.”
Her words hit his ears at the same intensity as they would if he were sitting next to an airplane engine. They had arguments about his sobriety so many times before, yet those fights always had the underlying understanding that she would be there to help him. She never once mentioned the possibility of her leaving him because she truly did want to help him find his sobriety. His mouth falls open to talk. No words come out. How can he possibly swear that he wants to get better when he isn’t at the self-realization point in his journey? She takes the silence as an admittance that getting clean isn’t on his mind. “I need some time apart. I’m going to sleep at Deliah’s place tonight,” she informs, turning to leave. He doesn’t stop her; he wants to give her the space she needs in hopes that she realizes she can hold on for a little bit longer. The only word he can respond with is “Okay”, right before she closes the door behind her. 
———
She hasn’t answered any of his texts and calls. Her night of taking some space turned into a week and it is driving him crazy. Her non-existence return may have to do with his unwillingness to agree to go to a therapist. After the thousandth attempt at calling her, she finally answers the call. “Normally, when a person doesn’t pick up the call, it means they don’t want to talk to you.” He lets out an internal sigh, “I know, I just need to talk to you. Please, can we meet at our spot, Sunshine?” She could never resist the usage of his nickname for her. “Okay, meet me there in an hour,” she agrees. The call drops right after her response and he gives himself a small smile. Not only does he get to see her again, he gets to try to get her back. 
———
By the time she realizes she is being followed, she is alone under the bleachers, where she and Rafe used to spend their time in high school. It was where they found themselves when they didn’t feel like going to class or they needed to get away from the chaos after his team won a game. It was the place she fell in love with him in because even before they were dating when they were just friends, it was their spot. She spins around at the sound of grass being pressed down by a set of feet, ready to scold him for being late. It isn’t Rafe as she expected; instead, an average-height man with a dangerous air that scares her. The gleam behind his eyes tells her the bald man is up to no good, which is confirmed when he pulls out the hunting knife from his hoodie pocket. She steps back in an attempt to get away from him, but her back hits against a metal beam. The man rushes toward her and presses the sharp edge against the soft skin of her neck. “Your boy owes me money and since he is taking too long to get it back to me, I thought I would hold onto something precious to him until I get what I want,” the man explains with a wicked grin. She refuses to show him fear and looks him dead in the eyes, “Rafe’s dealer is Barry so I have no idea what you are talking about.” “He stopped going to Barry because Barry started getting on his case about how much he is using,” the male growled, not enjoying the bite to her bark. She chuckles like a maniac, “When Rafe comes, he is going to beat your ass.” “Shut up, Bitch.” Angered by his words, her knees find their target between his legs. 
He lets out a howl and doubles over in pain. She uses this as her opportunity to attempt an escape, trying to run past him. Unfortunately, he reaches out to stop her and this results in the blade driving into her abdomen. A gasp passes her lips, causing the dealer to look in her direction. “Shit.” His eyes bloom open and immediately begins to pull it out. “No. Don’t pu-,” she warns, except it is too late. The weapon is already out and he is running toward the exit. She hunches forward and stumbles back against the beam, pressing her hand to her stomach to keep from bleeding out, feeling as though she has been punched. Calling 911 seems to be the logical answer; however, when she goes for her phone, she finds it broken on the floor. She thinks about going to her car and is stopped by the feeling of even more blood gushing out of the wound as she tries to push off the beam. It doesn’t hurt as much as she thought it would. 
“Sunshine,” rings through her ears. Her dizziness makes it difficult to focus on the speaker, yet she knows who it is based on the nickname. She slides down the beam because her legs lose all their strength. Rafe rushes to her side and kneels beside her. “Shit, Sunshine. It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police. They are going to fix everything,” his voice breaks as his hand joins hers to stop the flow of his blood. She can hear him relaying the information to the dispatcher, but her body is telling her something Rafe isn’t going to be ready to hear. He places his phone on the floor so both of his hands can press on her abdomen. “They’re coming, Sunshine, just hold on. I promise. I’ll be here the whole time.” Her handshakes as she raises to his cheek, staining it with her blood. Her tears water at the edge of her bottom eyelid, “I don’t think I’m going to make it.” His head shakes vigorously. “Don’t say tha-.” She cuts him off, “Can you please just listen to me?” He nods to let her continue. “It was your dealer. I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad. Just to make sure he gets arrested. But I need you to know that you are more than just your addiction and football. I know you don’t think so, but you are and if you just realize that, then you will see the man that I fell in love with.” “I don’t deserve that though. Look at all the shit I put you through. You deserve more than a druggie as a boyfriend,” he cries, holding her hand against his skin.
She smiles up at him, “You deserve more too. You deserve to be truly happy. You deserve to try to find a new purpose in life. I want that for you.” “How can I find all of that if you are gone?” he questions. Her breathing begins to become laboured, “You’ll find yourself and once you grieve, you’ll find someone who can help heal your broken heart. That’s how.”
“I don’t want anyone else. I just want you. Please, don’t go. Will you please stay if I promise to get sober?” 
“I will be with you every step of the way.”
The words tear his heart in two. He knows what it means. She truly doesn’t think she is coming out of this alive. “I want you to see me get better though. Please. Just hang on a little longer.” His tears cloud his vision. When he doesn’t hear a response, he wipes his eyes to get a closer look at her. The world goes dark at the sight of her glassy eyes only reflecting back his face with no recognition or life behind them. The rise and fall of her chest have stopped. The universe decides to answer his calls for help at a cruel moment as he hears the siren finally approach. There is no use in their hurry if the person who needs saving is the one to do it because Rafe isn’t going to let her last words die with her. He is going to get better, not only for her but for him too. He deserves more than a life of chasing his pain away with drugs and he is determined to achieve that.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura
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leth-writes · 5 months ago
Text
yandere Tim Drake x meta reader
This is the first part, I'll probably post a second tomorrow!
Summary: you're a meta who struggles to be seen, and Tim thinks you're the most interesting thing he's laid his eyes on for a long time.
Warnings: none, though as always my blog is 18+.
Tim was the only person to really see you. You’d been born a meta, though your powers slowly ramped up through your early childhood; unfortunately you didn’t even get a cool power. You weren’t even fully invincible, just slightly… fuzzy. It was frustrating, how no one would look you in the eye as a kid, at least until it progressed to most people not even being able to look at your face. You felt like half a person, like a silhouette without the details penciled in.
Then, as you got older, it got worse and worse. Suddenly, your own parents were forgetting you. You’d go to get dinner only to find none left, they almost gave your bed away, most of your clothes got donated… you learned quickly to keep your personal possessions close to your chest to avoid them being given out at the first chance. They could barely remember your name even when they could see you, always messing it up by a few letters. It was even worse at school. You found yourself often having your desk given away to new students, being forced to sit on the floor and try to get your work done, and your teacher always managed to misplace your homework. Eventually, the other students would attempt to walk right through you, as though you were a ghost and not a real person.
Maybe you were a ghost, maybe there was something wrong with you. Maybe you’d died and gone to hell after a life of sin… you couldn’t imagine God being good if they’d condemn you to this living, waking, purgatory. Eventually, you’d been completely kicked out of the house. You’d come home one day, only to find your whole family gone; they’d moved without you. The realization that you’d been erased from their eyes at the snap of a figure only left you hollow.
The hunger to be seen, to be known, left a giant gaping maw in your stomach, all teeth and gnarled, twisted flesh. It was horrid, this living, breathing, monster eating away at you until you couldn’t breathe or blink, curled up in the small, ragged blanket you’d found one day after dumpster diving. You often spent hours just laying on your side in an alley, praying to be released from your suffering, only to fail over and over again. It was horrible, but it was your life.
Everything changed when you met him. You’d been sneaking into Gotham Academy, mainly to use their bathrooms to shower and change into some spare clothes you planned to steal. You took the shortcut through the library, looking for something good to read to distract you from the gawping hunger growing steadily, trying to feed it so it wouldn’t consume you whole, when you heard the clearing of a throat. As always, you assumed it was just some rich kid with a mild case of the sniffles ditching class to read magazines in the corner.
You were wrong.
Suddenly, there was a hand on your shoulder. A hand, on your shoulder! It was the first time you’d been touched in 2 years. You whirled around and threw yourself into the chest of the boy who’d grasped your shoulder, the force of you colliding with him causing him to take a step back and readjust his weight, letting out a soft “oof!”. Tears streamed down your face, the hungry maw gnawing at you practically overtaking you.
The boy let out a gentle sigh, slowly raising the still outstretched arm to pat at your back awkwardly.
“Hey, are you… okay?” He asked, tentatively.
You realized you were still clawing at him like a wounded animal, and quickly stepped away, clearing your throat and looking down.
“Sorry, it’s just… been a while since someone hugged me, I guess I forgot what it felt like?” you said sheepishly, looking down and away.
“It’s alright, I was just wondering if you were new here? I haven’t seen you around campus before…” He started hesitantly, stepping closer. Shit, you couldn’t let him know you didn’t attend the school, or he’d call the cops on you! Who knows how long you’d be left in a quiet, dingy cell, hands cuffed together, before they remembered they’d put you there!
“Yeah, yeah, I’m new. It’s my first day and I got a bit lost… Silly me, huh?” You said, laughing awkwardly and rubbing your arm.
You looked up at him for the first time. Shit. It was Tim fucking Drake, heir to the Wayne and Drake empires, and practical king of the school. He ruled with an iron fist, blackmailing bullies and solving problems; even as an outsider, you couldn’t deny the power he held. The way he acted, you knew he was aware of his power as well. He was dressed in a rumpled uniform, something that would normally be a suspendable offence, but he managed to get away with it. He was leaning back, tie loose and shirt untucked partially, hair messy and fluffy. The sun filtered gently through the arched windows, a rare sunny day, illuminating the soft brown undertones of his hair and shining on his pale, exhausted looking face. He had deep eye bags but was otherwise unblemished, and the lightest green eyes you’d ever seen, almost sickly green.
Looking at him made you uncomfortable; it’d been years since you’d been able to talk to another person. His eyes glinted and his face slackened, looking stern and serious.
“No you’re not.” He said, voice low and threatening.
“W-Yes I am! I just don’t have my paperwork in yet!” You stuttered, backing into the bookcase and holding your hands up as if to defend against a physical blow. He sighed and shook his head, once again stepping into your personal space. “No you aren’t. I would’ve recognized you. I know everyone in this school; you don’t even have a uniform on.” He continued, glancing out the window as if uninterested.
Fuck, what should you do? You could run, but you had the feeling he’d be able to catch you… Or you could try and lie again, but he did seem pretty certain… Maybe you should just confess?
“Fine. I don’t go here. I’m just… I just need to use the bathroom, okay?” You hedged, looking away as though embarassed. It was best not to confess your status as a meta, for fear of Batman showing up to arrest you; you’d heard he had a vendetta against metas for some reason.
Tim nodded, looking satisfied. “Finally, the truth. Let’s go.” He stepped away, grabbing your wrist and pulling you gently along. You dragged your feet, sputtering, trying to stop him. “where are we going?” You asked him, incredulously. “We’re going to get you some clothes, my treat, and a shower. I can’t have you wandering around like that, you’ll never fit in. Besides, you’re the only interesting thing I’ve seen all month.”
You were so excited to finally be seen you didn’t even question why he referred to you as a thing instead of a person.
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