#I will be doing school with my phone on mute so when I come back to this I EXPECT chaotic responses and chaotic responses only

[esyra]

After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.

Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.

Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.

By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.

When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.

Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.

Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.

Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.

For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.

Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.

That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!

So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.

People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.

Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."

They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.

Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 1 - Betrayal

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, betrayal, mean!Bucky,

Hi! This kinda came outta nowhere lmao. Apologies for the angst, I just needed to do an angsty/sad fic cos I'm in my feels. As always, I appreciate your comments and reblogs. This is a two part series (standalone, not linked to any of my other fics, not the same characters as in Sweet and Sour) second part coming soon...

Wordcount: 3.7k

💔

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me, Doll. After everything we’ve been through? Was it all a lie?”

“Don’t deny it! That’s your voice on the recording! Banner proved your phone was there, it pinged there – we’ve got the proof. Even now you’re lying, you just can’t help yourself, can you?”

You had read about people being too stunned to move or speak, but you always thought it was a little embellished for dramatic effect in books. Surely, you could just push through? Surely shock did not have such a profound effect on your body that it rendered you temporarily paralysed and mute?

But you had calmly walked down the stairs towards the lobby of the house twenty minutes ago and hadn’t moved since. You just stood there now, rigid and dumbfounded, trying to understand how your entire world had just collapsed around you mere minutes beforehand. Now, you got the ‘stunned’ thing. You understood.

The aftershocks of Bucky yelling at you echoed around your head. What had just happened? You’d been sleeping peacefully just before he stormed in your shared bedroom, roaring at you before your eyes had even opened. You’d never seen him like that before. This wasn’t your Bucky, this was work Bucky. The one he’d always worked so hard to keep you from.

Why wouldn’t he listen? What did he mean, the recording? The phone ping? Your skull ached as you tried to make sense of it all. You would never do a thing like that to him. You loved him. You’d die before you purposefully tried to hurt him. Why didn’t he understand that?

You briefly considered going back upstairs, finding him wherever he was in the labyrinth of this house and straightening this whole mess out. Telling him you loved him, and he had to listen. Taking him in your arms, kissing him softly.

But the memory of the look in his eyes, the sheer rage they contained, the hatred that lay there, stopped you.

There was nothing to go back for.

You managed to pull yourself from your paralysis and move towards the hall closet near the front door. Well, it was more like a small room than a closet. An overflow from the walk-in closet just off the master bedroom upstairs. A huge space packed with a selection of Bucky’s jackets and shoes. He liked keeping some of them downstairs, getting the staff to rotate them when he wanted a change. Some of your things sat in there too - a few high-end coats, beautiful shoes. 

Correction, past tense - they were yours. Not now. 

“You’re a liar! You lied to me…Bet you loved spending my money too, didn’t you? Laughing all the way to bank as you sucked me dry…”

You screwed up your face as the memory of his voice flooded you. He was just so angry…he just wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t believe you…

You pushed it all aside and opened the closet door, darting and shuffling through the combined thousands of dollars at your fingertips - the Dior, the Gucci, the Prada. You knew it was in here somewhere.

Then you spotted a flash of red behind one of the shoe racks in the far corner. There she was. 

You moved towards it, grabbing at the red fabric and tugging. It squeezed past the luxury shoes and revealed itself as you pulled it toward you - your faithful red backpack.

A relic of your former self.

No designer labels here, just a bag that had followed you throughout your life - high school, college before you’d dropped out, various apartment moves and vacations. The once-bright crimson colour had faded over time, but it was still sturdy and strong, still TARDIS-like in how much you could pack inside. It stuck out like a sore thumb in the closet against the glamour and opulence. 

You knew how that felt.

You unzipped it and dug through the contents. A pair of jeans, a sweater, a couple of T-shirts and your beaten-up old sneakers. Some pairs of underwear and bras. A few other simple garments. All polyblends and cheap textiles. No fancy labels to be found. No fine silks or luxe fabrics that Bucky had liked to spoil you with. 

This backpack was all you had to your name when you’d moved in here. Funny how life went in circles, because once again it was all you had now.

At the time Bucky had taken it from you and insisted you throw it away - you wouldn’t need it! He’d buy you a whole walk-in closet full of clothes! 

And he did. 

A dizzying amount. More than you could ever wear. A mix of designer labels and custom pieces that fit you perfectly. Fine tailoring and exquisite details. Dresses. Blouses. Pants. Jeans. Organic cotton t-shirts. Skirts of every length. Winter coats that had cost the same as two months of your rent in the city. Underwear sets so pretty and delicate that you were almost too nervous to wear them. 

And accessories, too. Handbags. Jewellery. Shoes. Oh, the shoes. Heels, flats, boots, sandals, sneakers and slippers. Shoes for fancy parties and shoes for hikes. Shoes for the grand vacations. Shoes for just lounging around the house. Shoes you only wore for sex.

All gone, in an instant.

It didn’t matter, anyway. You always told him you didn’t need any of it. And you weren’t lying. You’d never lied to him, despite what he believed now. You were always happiest in sweats and loungewear, you just liked being comfortable and yourself. You just liked being near him.

At the time you’d talked him round about letting you keeping the backpack - nostalgia, you know? You’d had it years, after all.

But he didn’t think you needed it. That was then, this was now. Why keep an old bag when you could get anything you’d ever want? He’d buy you a hundred backpacks, he said, he’d get your initials embroidered, he’d let you design your own, he’d have your favourite designer make you one - especially for you.

But that wouldn’t be your bag. The bag that had seen everything. Your constant companion. 

You persisted. What was one little backpack in a big old house like his? It would take up no space at all. He wouldn’t even know it was there.

He relented eventually, he’d always loved how down to earth and low-key you were. He was fond of your sentimentality. You’d never been interested in his money; you’d kept the love notes he wrote you - not the shopping receipts - but he still liked to spoil you. You deserved it. 

Or so he’d told you then. But it was a different story today. 

The bag had been hastily stashed here in the closet the first day you moved in and had been there ever since, languishing amongst the Italian tailoring. 

Until now.

Part of you wondered if deep down you had always known this day would come. Maybe your gut had sensed it was all too good to be true, and you knew you needed to store a parachute for the inevitable fall. 

You sniffed, wiping away the threat of more tears. There would be time for that later. 

You looked down at the slip you wore, the slinky, silly nightie thing he’d bought you that you’d worn to bed. Not very practical now you’d be out on the street. 

Your brain suddenly switched into survival mode, most likely in an attempt to stop yourself from falling apart, but you couldn’t think about it all now. You needed to find somewhere to stay. And you couldn’t do that in a silk nightdress. 

You quickly shrugged the gown off, leaving it in a tangled pool on the floor of the closet and mentally apologising to Martha who would have to pick it up tomorrow. You grabbed the backpack and pulled on the jeans, a bra, one of the tees and the sweater. You rolled the Dollar Tree socks onto your feet. Kicked on the sneakers. It was all a little musty from being folded up in the bag for so long. But it would do. 

You caught a glimpse of yourself in the closet mirror and gasped. Aside from the wild eyes and tear-stained face, you looked like a version of yourself you hadn’t seen in a long time. Another life.

Hello again.

Next: where to go. The obvious places were Wanda’s or Nat’s homes. And you’d go there. Either would work. Either would welcome you with open arms, being the true friends that they were. Bucky’s betrayal had made you question everything you knew about love, but not the faith in your friends to catch you when you fall. That was unshakeable. 

Maybe you could alternate who you stayed with until you got back on your feet, so you weren’t too much of a burden to either. You just couldn’t face either of them tonight, you needed to be alone. 

You frantically rummaged through the backpack again until you found what you were looking for at the very bottom. You let out a little yelp of relief.

The battered old wallet had seen better days, but it was hanging on. You opened it up and breathed a sigh of relief that you’d never transferred your driver’s license into the Gucci wallet Bucky had given you on that first day. Thanks, lazy past self. It wasn’t like you’d driven much anyway, not with his all drivers on the payroll and the Uber account he’d loaded onto your phone. 

The wallet also contained debit and credit cards you’d never cancelled but hadn’t touched since Bucky gave you your very own black card. It was funny how you used to obsessively count every penny and now you could charge whatever you wanted without a second thought.

Not now, then, you corrected. You needed to get used to your life with Bucky being referred to in the past tense.

“You were working with the feds this whole time, Doll? Is that it? You were all laughing at me? Laughing at how easy it was to let you in? The cute little waitress doing her ‘oh shucks!’ routine, catching me hook, line and sinker?? God I’m such a fucking idiot…”

You stifled a sob, but continued hunting through the wallet.

You thought about your purse sitting out on the side table by the front door. You could take that with you and charge a hotel room it. He probably wouldn’t even notice such a small charge amongst his wealth, and even if he did, he wouldn’t begrudge you a few bucks for a roof over your head for one night. Would he?

No. Enough. 

He had ended it. He had implied you were a leech. He didn’t listen, he didn’t trust you. He didn’t believe you. If he truly thought you’d done what he said…he couldn’t ever have loved you. Not really. 

No more spending his money, even though you never really felt comfortable doing so anyway. The showdown tonight had confirmed your biggest fears - he’d always resented you for spending his cash. You couldn’t live like that anymore. 

Besides, you didn’t want him to know where you were. Not that you thought he’d come after you…but still. 

Fortunately, the wallet had a ream of stale bills stuffed in one of the sections. You exclaimed in excitement; you remembered them now. It had been your last day at your waitress job. You’d quit right before you came over to this place to move in, and Lou had given you the rest of the week’s pay plus tips. You had fought him on it, insisting you didn’t need it - but Lou had asked you to take it. For his sake.

“I want you to be happy, hon’,” he’d told you kindly when you had shared your plans. “And I know you’re a smart girl. But you’re getting mixed up with…a different kinda world. A…different kind of guy. You never know when this might come in handy”.

You’d frowned at him at the time, not quite sure what he meant. But as you stood there in the closet clutching the cash, you sent him a silent thank-you for his foresight. God bless Lou. He was exactly right.

You shoved the money and the wallet back into the red bag and moved from the closet into the hallway. The house was completely silent. If Bucky knew you hadn’t left yet, he’d made no effort to stop you. You admitted that a tiny part of yourself had hoped he’d come after you and admit he’d made a terrible mistake.

But he wasn’t coming. 

You slung the backpack over your shoulder as you headed to the front door. As your hand curled around the handle, you turned and took one last look at what had been your first real home. What you’d hoped would be your last home. 

You looked over at your phone which you’d tossed onto the dresser next to the closet in your panic. You briefly pondered taking it, but it wasn’t yours anymore. You’d buy a burner in the morning and get a new cell plan once you were back on your feet. 

Wow. You were surprising yourself with this pragmatism. But you also knew you were hanging on by a thread.

But the fact was - you’d survived before Bucky, and you’d survive after him, too. You always kept going. You’d been dirt poor before, you could do it again. You’d been alone before, too. You’d been alone most of your life. 

You could do it again.

‘Tenacious’ - that’s what Nat had called you once. You weren’t sure if you agreed with her at the time, but now you wanted to prove her right. You wanted to be the person she believed you to be. 

You already knew it would be much harder now, as you’d had a taste of the other side. How the other half live, as they say. Before, you didn’t know any different - you didn’t know what you were missing. Now you absolutely did. Not just the money…the comfort…but being cared for, being loved. 

On some level, you’d always known this wasn’t going to be your happy ending. You knew deep down that the house of cards would eventually fall, because it always did. 

You just wished you weren’t always right. 

You opened the door and stepped out into the dark.

💔

You walked for thirty minutes towards the city. Bucky lived on the outskirts and most of the journey had been leaving his estate along the single, winding road that led up to his property. None of his men paid you any mind. Not the ones with guns pitched up along the perimeter. Not those waiting in cars half a mile from his house, keeping an eye out for any potential threats as they did every night. They all knew who you were, so word must’ve spread fast. Otherwise they would’ve been falling over themselves to check on you and find out why the boss’ girl was out walking by herself at this time. 

You wondered if Steve or Sam had put a message out on the comms. ‘They’re over. Don’t worry about her anymore’ or words to that effect. Something cold but concise. That’s how this operation worked. 

You’d developed friendships with some of these men. Chatted to them and even brought them coffee when they kept watch on cold nights. You would watch then from the windows and tell Bucky you were worried about how freezing it was out there, and he’d laugh it off and say it was part of their job and they were fine. But they were always grateful when you came out with a thermos, always told you how much it meant to them. 

All of it forgotten in an instant, you were disposable as anything else in Bucky’s empire. You understood that now. Just like when he wanted a new car or a new watch, he’d toss away the old model - then find himself something newer and shinier. 

You walked a little further as signs of civilisation starting to appear and Bucky’s acres of land disappeared behind you. A gas station. A boarded-up strip mall. You were a little frightened walking alone by yourself, but the sheer adrenaline your situation propelled you forward. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you eventually found a tired-looking Holiday Inn up ahead. A few of the lightbulbs on the neon sign were out, meaning it spelled out H LIDAY INN. A leaky drainpipe dripped a steady stream of water over the entrance. Oh dear. 

But it would do for now. 

You took a deep breath as you went inside and checked in at the front desk, paying for a basic room with your waitress cash. The disinterested receptionist gave you the key card and sighed with boredom, barely looking at you as she barked the directions to your room and resumed Candy Crush on her phone. She didn’t seem surprised to see a lone woman turning up in the middle of the night, arriving to a roadside hotel on foot, paying for two nights in crumpled bills. She didn’t even ask to see your ID. That all gave you a pretty clear idea of what the staff were used to here.

You passed an ancient-looking PC that guests could use, which surprisingly, as it looked like it was last updated for Windows 95, had WiFi. You made a mental note to log on tomorrow to message Wanda and Nat on social media and fill them in …and hopefully get one of them to come pick you up. 

You grabbed some chips and soda from the vending machines then walked towards the elevators. Not quite the glamorous dinner you’d become accustomed too, but it would do. For now.

You hit the button to call the elevator as you slumped against the wall, the exertion of your long walk and the evening finally catching up with you. The elevator creaked and spluttered but it finally got you to your floor. 

You scanned your keycard and swung the room door open, dumping your backpack and snacks onto the wood-veneer desk before flinging yourself onto the double bed. The no-frills basics were worlds away from the fancy hotels you were used to staying in with Bucky, but it was clean and comfortable. And most important of all, it was private. 

“Just get the fuck out. We’re done here so save your tears. Over. Finito. I don’t need some liar in my bed, being sweet to my face then sticking a knife in my back – then not even having the guts to admit to it when she’s caught red-handed”.

Finally alone, you allowed yourself to weep. To mourn the end of your relationship and the man you thought Bucky was, versus the man he turned out to really be. To grieve, to bid farewell to the life you thought you had (and would continue to have) with him, and the way you thought he saw you. It wasn’t just about losing him and tarnishing your memories, it was also grieving for a future and a life you thought you were going to have. 

“I don’t care. You’ll figure something out, sweetheart. You’re just lucky this is all I’m doing after everything you’ve pulled…”

Large, wracking sobs took over your body as you curled up on the hotel bedspread and allowed yourself to feel it all. You ate the chips and drank the soda, barely tasting either. You turned on the TV and let the black and white movie on the one working channel serve as background noise. Fatigue eventually swam over you, smothering you like a weighted blanket.

Soon there were no tears left and the well had finally run dry. Mercifully, sleep finally came for you, and you gave into it without a fight. 

And you slept. And slept. 

💔

Bucky was at his desk looking at paperwork when Steve came back into his home office. He was doing his best to ignore the nauseating rush in his gut, trying his hardest not to think about you and the way your face had crumpled as he confronted you. Most likely it was just your guilt, anyway.

“Barton said the shipment arrived right on schedule, everything accounted for,” Steve advised as he poured himself a shot of bourbon from the small bar setup in the corner of the office. “And Sam’s out at the shipyard, running through the plan with Rumlow”.

He was desperate to address the elephant of the room and ask Bucky how he was holding up, but Bucky had previously insisted nobody bring your name up. So he didn’t. 

“Good,” Bucky replied curtly. “And Stark?”

“All on board. Said we can iron out the details next week”.

“Perfect, thanks”.

Steve nodded, downing the last of his glass as he placed it on the ornate tray and headed to the door.

“Oh, and Steve?” Bucky called out to him.

“Yeah, Buck?” He turned to face his friend.

“Do you….you uh know…where she went? After…what happened?” He asked, the tiniest hint of hesitation in his otherwise firm tone. Most people wouldn’t have spotted it, but most people didn’t know Bucky like Steve did. 

Steve shook his head, “No, Buck. Some of the men saw her leaving on foot a little while ago”.

Bucky swallowed but his face betrayed no emotion, “On foot?”

“Yeah. I guess she didn’t have a lot of options…” Steve shrugged.

Bucky nodded, “Yeah…I guess I just assumed she’d book a cab…or call one of her friends…” he said wistfully as he looked back down at the papers across his desk.

“She left her phone. Scott found it by the front door, next to her purse. I’m not sure she took anything with her, actually,” Steve mused.

Bucky frowned, “No…phone? No…money?”

Steve shrugged, “I don’t think so. But that’s good, right? You said yourself she was probably just playing a long-con to get your money too…”

Bucky’s gaze dropped back to the desk, his grip on the fountain pen he was holding tightened, the nib shaking from the force of his strength.

“You okay, Buck?” Steve asked tentatively as he watched the way the pen shook.

Any hint of vulnerability was immediately snuffed out as Bucky’s eyes snapped back to Steve. 

“Of course. Fine. Let me know what Sam says”.

Steve nodded, “Right. I’ll call him now”.

As Steve closed the door, the pen snapped in Bucky’s hand.

[secretsofafangirll]

video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment. 

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

//

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

[cleoluvrr]

black magnolias III - rafe cameron x reader

i gave you all my light, and i got nothing to show for it

WARNINGS: mature content; domestic violence, coercion, classism, religious trauma, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, blackmail

masterlist

series masterlist

you let yourself fall into a routine of work and studying for your finals, ready for summer to come and take away at least some of your worries. your job would be full of tourons ready to blow their vacation money on whatever they could fit in their hands and you’d have more hours to be available.

the pogues had been blowing up your phone since you left that day, begging you to come back so you guys could work it out. all of their numbers were muted until further notice, and jj was blocked. it was for the best, you thought. if they wanted to work it out that bad, they knew where to come find you.

your job was amazing; a boutique on figure eight where both locals and tourists frequented. magnolias was owned by a sweet, older black woman, miss josephine, who grew up in the cut just like you, working as a tailor alongside her mother. her mother long dreamed of having a store of her own to sell her designs, though it never a possibility back then. however, when the opportunity presented itself, miss josephine bought the boutique just for her mother. it was the first black owned business on this side of the island, and the story always brought a smile to everyone’s faces.

“you remind me a lot of my younger self, y’know.” she would always say. it made your heart swell for her to see herself in you, for her to talk about how much potential you had. 

you’d known her since you were a girl, always walking by her store and staring into the window on the way home from school.  the employees on the other side of the glass wearing handmade uniforms, the fifties aesthetic enchanting to your young mind. the blush pinks and whites caught your eye, the vintage look of the clothes inside tugging at your soul in a way that made you think it was your destiny to work at this store.

so, when the opportunity presented itself, you took it. it was going on your fourth year at the store and you had no plans on leaving anytime soon. magnolia’s was the reason you decided to stay close by for school, choosing something only an hour’s drive away so that you could still work there.

miss josephine had been more of a mother to you than the woman that gave birth to you, at least in recent years. she was more understanding and less judgemental than your mom could ever be. instead of drugs or partying, the store was your escape.

as you tidied up a table that had been picked at by customers throughout the day, the sound of the bell at the door chiming caught your attention.

“hi, welcome to magnolias!” your customer service voice was chipper and sweet as you greeted whoever entered the shop behind you. rnb music played from the speakers above, the soft music filling what would be awkward silence throughout the store. 

heavy footsteps approached, hard-bottomed shoes clicking against the wooden floor with each step. the smell hit you first; the expensive cologne giving away your guest before their mouth even opened to speak. you froze mid-fold, fingers stiff around the fabric in your hands.

“so,” rafe said. “you do still work here.”

slowly you turned to meet his face, a million thoughts racing through the fog your brain produced anytime he got too close. 

the khaki slacks he wore fit nicely, the material showing off the muscles of his toned thighs. his biceps strained against the sleeves of his shirt as his arms crossed in front of his chest. the man had a golden tan, the late spring sun serving his skin well the past few weeks. it was clear that he’d had a haircut not too long ago, the cropped hair shorter than it was the last time you saw him at the beach. you wanted to reach out and run your hands over it like you used to. you wanted–

jesus, forgive me.

the thought was fleeting as you stopped yourself from letting your mind travel any further.

“what are you doing here?” you tried your best to keep a smile on your face, not wanting to raise an alarm to your coworkers.

rafe tilted his head at you, a lopsided, mischievous grin gracing his lips.

“am i not welcome here?”

no

“i didn’t say that.” the words came out of your mouth faster than you could form them. you didn’t want your boss to overhear you, the woman always lurking around where you couldn’t see her.

His brows raised, waiting patiently to hear your explanation.

“it’s just…you’ve never been in here.” your voice was soft, only loud enough for him to hear. “and this is a women’s clothing store.”

he shrugged. the tall man’s eyes fell from your face, the icy-hot feeling of them taking in your uniform-clad body giving you chills.

“nice dress.”

“it's my uniform.” the response came out harsher than you meant but you didn’t feel the need to correct it. “is there something i can help you with? or are you just here to bother me?”

the music substituted his words for a response as you were met with silence from the blonde, his eyes still traveling the length of your figure. your throat bobbed as you swallowed thickly, the sound of saliva traveling down your esophagus echoing in your head.

rafe took two steps forward and you took one step back, the second one blocked by the table behind you bumping into the back of your legs. his eyes landed back on yours, something hidden behind the familiar blues.

“rafe–”

“why don’t you show me around?” his head swiveled around to glance at the front of the shop where you stood before focusing on the hall in the distance that led deeper into the store. “what’s back there?” he nodded in that direction.

“clothes.” you smiled curtly, trying your best to look like you were giving your best customer service. 

some of your coworkers had now started sneaking glances towards you and rafe, a few of them lingering just within earshot to listen in on the conversation.

letting out a breathy chuckle and extending his arm, he directed you away from the table.

“why don’t you show me?”

the two of you stood there in a silent standoff for a few moments, the muscle in your chest pumping blood at a pace you weren’t sure it could handle for much longer. you finally gave in after a long thirty seconds, eyes rolling as you slid past him to walk down through the decorated hallway.

rafe asked you so many questions. every display you passed he would stop to stare at the mannequins like the two of you were at the smithsonian museum, the man treating you like a tour guide and making you explain everything to him.

people were giving you puzzled looks, the sight of rafe cameron sifting through frilly pink skirts leaving them just as confused as you were. you lost track of time at some point; so much so that when you finally glanced at your watch you gasped at what was displayed.

your shift was over.

“well,” you cleared your throat to capture his attention. “it’s time for me to go, so…if you plan on buying anything just let one of my coworkers know.”

rafe didn’t get the chance to protest before you left him on his own in the depths of the store. it was rude, sure, but you had to get away from him. 

you felt like you were suffocating.

much to your surprise, and dismay, rafe had not departed after you announced the end of your shift. you nearly stumbled over your shoes when you stepped outside and found him leaning against the side of his truck. he smiled at you, arms uncrossing as he pushed off the vehicle and stepped towards your frozen frame.

“why are you here?”

“you sure ask that a lot, y’know?” his nimble fingers reached up to freshly shaven face. he wore a ghost of a smile as he looked down at you, still dressed in your uniform.

you gripped the sides of your dress, the skirt wrinkling under the force of your hands. 

“need a ride?”

that was the absolute last thing you were expecting to come out of his mouth. brows shooting up in surprise, you eyed him suspiciously. your tongue ran over the front of your teeth as you looked him up and down. it was his turn to go under inspection.

“why would i get in a car with you?”

he opened the passenger side door, presumably for you to take a seat inside. you didn’t budge.

“cause you need a ride.”

“i can find a ride…actually,” you loosened the grip on your skirts, palms opening to smooth out the lines left behind. “i would rather walk–”

“get in the car, y/n.” the smile was gone now, his voice sharper as he urged you to take his offer. he was never truly asking if you wanted a ride, he was giving the illusion of a choice.

a scoff rose from your throat. the audacity of him was almost funny to you.

“i’m not getting in a car with-”

there was hardly time to react before he was on you, a stong hand wrapped around your forearm as he roughly guided you to his truck. your instinct to fight against him was smothered by the shock of his manhandling, the sound of a car door slamming snapping you out of your disoriented state. 

your jaw dropped as you watched rafe come around the front of the vehicle and enter the drivers side. there was no time to open the door before rafe was speeding off from the front of magnolia’s, the revving of his engine making the seat vibrate beneath you. 

“rafe!” you said after you gathered the words from your jumbled up mind. “you can’t do that! that’s like…th-that’s kidnapping!”

the older man laughed dryly, head thrown back dramatically before landing back on the road. 

“i’m giving you a ride home-”

“you manhandled me!” you interrupted. was he being serious? “and i said ‘no.’ that’s the definition of kidnapping.”

he cooly looked at you, the expression on his face completely different from the one he had just a few minutes ago when he forced you into his car. 

“you’re being dramatic.”

exasperation was all you felt, the emotion filling you the brim as you stared at him with wide eyes. you pulled out your phone and clicked on a green icon, fingers ready to type out three numbers that would likely do you no good, but it was worth the try.

“i’m calling the police.”

before you could press enter the device was snatched from your hands. you watched rafe shove it into his pocket furthest from you, head shaking side to side as he denied you any contact to the outside world for the remainder of your time with him.

“no you’re not.”  he stopped at a red light and took the opportunity to look at you once again. his eyes were piercing and sparked a feeling of intimidation in the deepest pit of your stomach. “we’re gonna talk.”

you knew that you guys would have to have a conversation eventually, you just never thought it would be so soon.

honestly, you hoped that you could avoid it at all costs, but that wasn’t realistic. kildare was a small island and you were bound to run into each other eventually. it was surprising that you were able to circumvent him for as long as you did, but you knew there was always a risk stepping into figure eight. seeing him at the beach was unexpected, and you never thought that he would show up at your job like that.

you folded your arms across your body snugly, still feeling unsure about being in such close proximity to him.

“you, uh, y-you really did me wrong, y/n.” it was obvious that the thought of what transpired all those months ago still angered him deep down, but he held on to whatever was bubbling up inside of him.

you gulped, afraid of what he would say next.

“it’s hard for me to–to trust people…you know that.” rafe continued, head turning briefly to confirm he had your ear. “i trusted you.” he sniffed instinctively, fingers coming up to wipe his nostrils. it had become a habit of his; even after giving up the blow.

you hummed in response, unsure of what to say.

“i trusted you and y-you…you broke that. you broke my trust for those pogues–”

“those pogues are my friends.” your eyes were sharp as razor blades as you stared him down from your place in the car. “i’m a pogue, rafe.”

“see–i’m trying…i-i’m trying to talk to you and you’re just..you’re just snapping at me.” he said. your lip curled up in disgust but you went quiet once again, reluctantly allowing him to finish. 

rafe took a long pause before he continued his speech, jaw ticking in annoyance from you reminding him of your social status.

you hated how he talked about pogues, especially since you were one yourself. he could pretend you were different as much as he wanted, but you both knew the truth.

“but i can admit that i’ve done you wrong, too.” the words sounded painful, but he got them all out without stopping or stuttering. “i can admit that i wasn’t there for you when i should’ve been, so it’s my fault that this happened in the first place. at least–a little bit.”

you tore your eyes away from the window to face him, the flesh of your bottom lip stuck between your teeth as you worried it. you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

this was the most accountability he’s ever taken in the time that you’ve known him–it was the only time he’s ever taken accountability, actually.

“i’m trying to be better–i want to be better.” rafe looked at you and you could see that he was being genuine. “so–so you don’t have to forgive me; not right now. but i…i forgive you.”

 still unsure of what to say to him, you blinked. you released your bottom lip from the wrath of your teeth, flesh swollen and pink from the abuse.

rafe’s eyes flicked down to your mouth, drawing in a deep breath before forcing himself to keep them on the road. your own gaze followed his and you were shocked to see your house at the end of the cul-de-sac, rafe slowing to a stop outside of it. your mother was home, her white sedan parked in the gravel driveway.

“i was serious when i said you can always come back.” he turned off the car, letting the engine die before turning his body to face you fully. he looked strangely soft, something he rarely let himself be around you in the later years of your crumbling relationship.

“what is there to come back to, rafe?” you finally spoke after letting him sit in silence for a few minutes. the sun was beginning to set behind your hours, the golden light dimmed by the tinted windows of rafe’s truck. still it reflected into the man’s eyes, the color enhanced by the star’s shine.

he blinked at you, long lashes brushing against the tops of his cheeks. you sighed and reached a hand up to scratch at the nape of your neck.

“my friends would hate me. i can’t just ignore the stuff you’ve done to them.”

“what have they ever done for you?”

“they were there for me when you weren’t rafe!” you snapped at him. “you were never there when i needed you.”

he palmed over his buzzed hair frustratedly, head shaking side to side in…confusion? denial? you weren’t sure.

“and i’m sorry for that, really, i am. i’m here now, though. alright?” rafe extended an arm over the divider to place a hand on yours, his fingers squeezing in a way that was supposed to be reassuring.

you released a heavy breath from your nose, head leaning back against the window as you stared at your ex-boyfriend across from you. you didn’t remove your hand from his; the warmth was comforting in a way that made you feel guilty.

“where are they anyway? your ‘friends’?” 

“we aren’t talking right now,” your voice was barely audible. “not that it’s any of your business…”

he tsked at you, disapproval clear from his demeanor. 

you moved to open the car door, free hand pulling on the handle. rafe held you back with the hand still in his grip. his eyes were deep and serious as they swallowed you whole.

“you still have my number?” you nodded hesitantly, not wishing to admit it. his head moved up in down in tandem with yours. “i’ll always pick up the phone. you come to my house; i’ll always open the door. okay?”

slowly he released your hand, taking your silence as understanding.

you watched from your porch as the dark truck pulled off from your home, the vehicle turning into a dot the further away it got. the phone in the pocket of your dress was heavy with the weight of a ten-digit number that had been collecting dust for almost a year. it weighed heavy with the unanswered messages of the friends that you hadn’t spoken to in weeks.

[hyewka]

i seriously need some sub soob🫢

like imagine him squirming and whining because you ONLY kissed his red tip thats leaking precum ehishsisidjdd im going insaneeee

warnings; sub!soobin obvi, sort of pervy, best friends who fuck each other (fwb), puppy pet name, big dick soob, slapping ?? balls??, gets a boner from cleavage, soobin is extra sensitive down there and cums a lot

When Soobin invited you over to his dorm, you don’t exactly expect to have nothing but your phone to turn to as he simultaneously gets worked up over some video game he’s playing and ignores you all around. You should’ve guessed this was going to happen, but you’re bitter about it anyway.

Is it a crime to have thought that he was implying something else by inviting you over?

“I’m bored.” you whine for the umpteenth time, your thumb with no thought scrolling through your feed of posts you’ve already liked and reposted.

When he doesn’t even spare a glance, you scoff and resort to a kick at his back—which to your credit, gets him to adjust his headset and look back to you.

“Yeah?” he mouths, not having heard you before.

You can’t help but think he looked cute today, his pinkish lips and the hair over his eyes making him look even more of a puppy, but before you could even get a word out, his eyes suddenly widen at the faint yell you could hear from his headset, immedietley turning around has he aggresively spams buttons on his controller in panic.

“Holy shit dude, get off my ass I looked away for one—”

You groan into his pillow, making sure to make it as dramatic as possible, proceeding to sulk right after. This was not a productive use of your time. Fifty entire minutes of laying on his bed as he plays a video game. The switch out of your sport bra for a push up right before you came over really is doing nothing for you right now.

When you hear a string of curses spilling out of his mouth, you look over your shoulder curiously and see that his screen was in spectator mode. “You lost?”

He groans, taking off his headset completely, his mic muted. “Mhm, got killed. What’s up though?”

You take note of the screaming now louder from his headphones. Probably at him for getting eliminated. You don’t let him be though, exhaling dramatically looking back to your phone, “What’s up is your bestest, number one, most treasured, hottest friend is horny, sexually frustrated, and bored out of their mind.”

Soobin chokes on practically nothing at the casual mention of you being horny. It’s dumb, like he’s a middle school boy with no experience.

He really was not used to the ‘thing’ between you guys, like, at all. The stolen kisses (which is to be noted very quickly turn into full blown makeout sessions) when no one’s looking, the occasional need to send pics of his hard on to you, slight panic and regret settling in when he sees the ‘read’ receipt with no sign of a response for an entire five minutes (are you not in the mood? did you hate it? will you stop what you guys have going on?), or even the late night calls when you decide to facetime him instead of responding to his blurry nudes through text, and then…well, phone sex seemed to be a normal standard of your friendship. Weirdly enough.

Even if by now you’ve fucked him well over a few times that a mere mention of feeling horny shouldn’t have gotten him as flustered as it just did. But it’s so sudden, the shift from being friends who strongly, and vehemently denied of the secretly dating rumors to…secretly fucking.

“Oh yeah?” comes out a lot more in a loser way than he intended because he basically chokes it out. He’s never been nervous around you, save for the beginning of your friendship.

You’re very much aware of how unjusted Soobin is to the sudden change in your dynamic. Even you think it’s odd that the person you end up texting when you get…needy is Soobin.

Soobin was never the guy you’d think of starting anything even remotely sexual with.

You’ve known him since the years of being taller than him, and you’ve come to learn about his many deep faults along with gross habits you would never let fly under the radar if from someone else, so for him to be the exact type of man you’ve been seeking lately in bed is, well, surprising.

He seems to be the only person who can satisfy you nowadays. But you try not to show it too much, basking much more in how easily he gets flustered. It’s adorable.

“Yeah,” you sigh, shifting position from your stomach to your back and after much contemplation, deciding to take the chance of sitting up straight, ��Did you really invite me over to watch you game? You know I don’t play video games.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes trail down, for sure because your chest was in full view now, his tongue prodding out just a tiny bit to wet his lips, almost like out of instinct. That dog. You show a bit of cleavage and he’s already drooling.

To be fair, it is the exact reaction you were fishing out of him. So you’re definitely not complaining.

You end up stifling a laugh, to which he immediately catches like he’s been trained to know your laughs on cue, breaking him out of his daze—an awkward coughing fit delayed a few seconds after to distract from the fact that he thinks he might’ve been caught, blush quickly warming his cheeks. “You think they’re silly, yeah, I know.

“But they’re—they’re not!” he splutters out, “I thought if you watched me play with Beo—”

“Were you just staring at my tits?” you cut him off with half the ability to not just start laughing. It’s worth seeing Soobin’s eyes widen like a cartoon character.

“No!” he says immediately— the crack of his voice doing nothing to help you keep a straight face. See? Adorable.

Then he huffs out a scoff like he’s surprised you’d ever accuse of him of such scandalous behavior. “Just because we fuck doesn’t mean I want to do you every second of the day. I respect you.”

It’s like a game of your cocked brow calling bullshit (more on the fucking thing than respecting you) and him staring back just as intensely as if he truly was not just ogling at your chest. Okay then, fair enough. You’ll get him to break. And admit to it.

“So if I did this…” you unbutton one of the two buttons of your crop top, and your eyes intently watch the way he struggles to not watch your every movement, still keeping his eyes on your face.

Stubborn. You can work with that. He won’t last long.

You drag the unbuttoning of the second one, and when it finally pops out, it’s a full view of your cleavage, cool air of the A.C being the cause of the goosebumps appearing.

And you’re right. He doesn’t last long. Barely even five seconds.

“My eyes are up here idiot.”

He doesn’t even try to hide the blushing anymore, once again licking his lips. You can see the bob of his adam apple when he finally meets your eyes. “Can I see your tits?” he says—the shame of asking is something that overtime became a numbing feeling, because with each time you casually lift your shirt at his request, the easier it gets to push down the feeling of being a pervert.

You break into a wide grin at how easy and straightforward he was—a passing thought of hoping he’s not like, like this for every living thing with fatty tissue on their chest. It’s not jealousy, god no, but it’s better if this was only between you two… for safety reasons?

You pretend to ponder on it but he should know by now that the enjoyment you get out of teasing him is way greater than any feeling.

You decide on what you’ll say, an evil smirk making way. “Am I just a pair of breasts Soobin? Just for you to ogle at? I thought you respected me.”

He shuts his eyes, whining at seeing that his words were very quick to bite him in the ass. “Please. You know I’ll be good.” he whispers the last few words and that has an affect on you. Big one.

Because he isn’t lying. Soobin’s very obedient. And god, you love it. So much.

But you don’t show that, you never do—letting him chase after something for once. Maybe if he gets a little more desperate, you’d think about a quick flash. “You have plenty of my nudes saved, can’t you jerk off to those? Y’know, like you usually do.”

Is it fair to make a jab at the occasional, every so often muffled voice messages in response to even just a slightly revealing picture that you’re asking him the opinion of, where you could hear his unstable breathing and the wet sounds of his pre cum covered shaft? Probably not, especially when you also get off of pics he’d unknowingly send to be the most delicious, mouth watering photo you’ve seen yet.

Soobin, on the other hand, is like, sure he’d go insane. Ever since he was allowed to look at you in the not-only-friends way, he took up every chance you dangled in front of him like a dog with a bone. Showing a little bit of your cleavage? His mind’s running to images. Just thinking of kissing and sucking until your tits go sore makes him so shamelessly a pervert. Seeing the head of his cock disappear between your tits when you took it upon yourself that one day of giving him a taste of what a titty fuck was like—god, it’s forever embedded into his memory.

He still sulks over the fact that you didn’t let him take a video.

Suddenly his well fitted sweats have easily become the most suffocating piece of clothing, his bulge shy of peaking through the fabric and making an obvious imprint. He tries to not look like a sore desperate loser, to look just a tiny bit cooler, but you make it so hard that he’s willing to get on his knees. Like seriously.

You’re back on your phone, looking to be disinterested which makes him bite the insides of his cheeks—already overthinking. Were you mad that he asked to see?

He tentatively puts a hand on your ankle, gauging at least some sort of reaction. You give him that—a glance. “Sorry if like, um— I didn’t invite you just for games obviously— well, okay not ‘obviously’ but I, uh, also don’t think you’re like, a floating pair of…breasts or something.” You cock a brow, really curious of where this Soobin ramble of the day would go.

“You’re my bestest friend—is that corny to say? Shit, well, you are and I think you’re smart, and obviously really funny, and bright and so pretty, like, really pretty and I mean—”

“Soobin where the fuck are you?”

You both look at the headset next to him on the bed, the yelling loud enough to transcend the reason the product was made anyway. He looks back to you and you could tell he intends on finishing his monologue. “And I mean—” he starts again before cursing under his breath at the second time he gets cut off.

“Fucking cuck, are you ignoring us?”

He groans at the stupid item, as if it just ruined a critical moment. Then he looks back at you apologetically. God, he hopes you don’t leave. “Um, well I have to keep playing they’d kill me if—” he panics a little trying to explain but you’re on another train of thought entirely, thinking that this was perfect timing.

“It’s okay, keep playing!” You say, practically gleaming.

His facial expression is a mix of skeptical confusion and desperation. But instead of questioning your enthusiasm, he bites down on his lip for a second. “You—you won’t leave, right? Don’t leave. Please.”

You shake your head, mouthing an ‘I won’t’ and finally, he lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding in.

He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for you to stay. It’s not like you don’t see each other, like every day of the week or even call each other when you somehow don’t. But regardless he wants you to stay, and he doesn’t mind coming off desperate for once.

The situation at hand is too obviously right in your face.

His ramble that was cut off short by who you made out to be none other than Beomgyu, and then Heeseung was…kind of sweet.

No, it was sweet. He thinks you’re really pretty? Not just pretty but really pretty. And smart? And funny? He’s so cute holy shit you could just reach out to pinch his rosy cheeks. But you didn’t and you probably won’t. Because something else caught your attention.

His bulge.

It was too…out there for you to not subtly look down every few filler word Soobin mumbled. You’re not sure what got him to pop a full blown boner. The teasing? You only said a few sentences and showed modest reveal of your boobs. But nevertheless, you try really hard to bite away a smile because holy shit, he really is easy.

And it fucking turns you on. More than it should. And more than it would if it was any other person.

If you felt horny before, you were basically drenched when getting a glimpse of his wide eyes at seeing you on the carpet, on your knees as you’re face to face with his crotch. He seems to freeze for a second before he quickly works to get his headset off, trying to abandon the game completely.

“No.” you say sternly, grabbing his dick through his sweats, “Keep playing.”

He mouths a big ‘what’, nearly whisper shouting, his eyes bulging out. You simply shrug, feeling all too smug, and start to palm him over the fabric. He lets out a sigh of pleasure, shutting his eyes.

“Dude, why the hell are you not moving? Fuck’s wrong with Soobin today?” You hear someone yell.

“If you stop, I stop.” You mouth slowly, and he seems to catch it, hands shaking as he reluctantly picks his controller up again.

“You’re evil.”

To that, you give him a smile, not really denying it. Because maybe you were, knowing how sensitive he is.

You hope Soobin’s mic is as shitty as you’ve heard Hueningkai complain a multitude of times, because if not, he’ll have a very hard time on call with his friends from now on. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a bragging point to have a girl suck you off while playing video games.

You imagine it’d still be a bit awkward anyway.

“How come you’re so big?” you whisper, more to yourself than him, but he catches it, and still reacts, bucking his hips to your touch, groaning. You click your tongue, pushing him down with one hand, as a warning.

“Don’t move. Don’t take your hands off the controller. And don’t make a sound.” It doesn’t take him long before he nods, obediently fixating his eyes on the tv screen.

You coo at how hard he narrows his eyes, thumbs working its action—but you want him to break. Maybe you really are evil.

And maybe he already was breaking.

He spreads his legs more and more, before lifting his ass off the mattress, already impatiently needy.

“Touch me.” he whispers, only for you to hear.

You raise a brow, huffing out a laugh as you decide that maybe you should stop playing around and pull his sweats down to his ankles. You don’t waste a second to.

When you take in the state of his cock, your mouth could water just at how pretty it looks. You’ve seen it well over a dozen times—over pics, over facetime, in real life, but you’re never not in awe each time. His slit was already bubbling precum, the thickness of his dick eye widening— It’s not like you have small hands either, and yet you still can’t fully wrap your hand around him. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size.

And god his tip was swollen red you’re sure if you just so briefly touched it he’d spasm and jizz all over your face. So you’re gentle. Or at least, you make an attempt.

Promptly grabbing his dick again, you could feel him grow heavier when you let it sit on your hand for a second. Soobin sighs into his mic, no doubt briefly catching the attention of his friends.

“Soobin, you’re dripping.” you comment, eyes following the trail of cum running down his length to your hand. It’s more in amusement, how he’s basically on the verge of an orgasm without much from you.

You could tell he’s using his last bits of patience to not just outright fuck into your fist, and it fascinates you. You start slowly dragging your hand on his shaft, made easier to navigate with his ridiculous amount of pre cum working as lube.

You watch as he adjusts his position subtly a few times, knowing that he’s trying to keep from slipping out any whines, pursing his lips. But his eyes betray him, they looked distant—not focused. “How many kills?” you ask.

“Zero.”

You furrow your brows, pouting as you still your hands. “I’ll speed up with each kill. You have to win for me puppy or I’ll get sad.”

Soobin doesn’t know exactly how he’d aim let alone manage a kill with the way you grip the base of his cock, but he knows that despite the sincerety of your words, he doesn’t like to think that you’d get sad. He so badly wants to make you proud in some way, happy with that glint in your eyes.

So, he gets a kill.

You hear the comments from his friends, passing compliments and you smile, slowly working your hand. “Got a kill.” he says under his breath, trying his hardest to not fall into the urge of shutting his eyes. Because god, you were good.

“Yeah? For me? Get another one puppy.”

A new fire ignites in his chest as he spams buttons, yearning to hear a praise slip from your lips. The way he knits his eyebrows in concentration and had his tongue peeking out was so adorable you almost lose control. Almost.

His breathing picks up as he says, “Another one.”

You get the confirmation he’s saying the truth by his friends again and you start moving your hand unfathomably fast as a reward, your hand getting sticky. “Gooood boy, getting all the kills.”

The sudden speed gets to Soobin, faltering his streak as he holds back choked up groans, head quickly becoming light. “Too much, too much.” he whispers, soft moans slipping through his breathing. You catch the way his hands loosen its grip on the controller and you smirk.

He’s way too easy to break.

“Too much? Should I stop?”

He shakes his head again, this time more frantic. You could make out the sparkly tears threatening to spill—you’re all too familiar with this. “Please don’t.”

“Then what? What do you want me to do?” you ask slowly, wet sounds of your hand working at his dick so dirty.

“Mouth,” he sighs, not controlling the way his hips buck into your hands despite your disapproval. “Want you to put it in your mouth.”

You almost laugh—your mouth? Last time, he barely lasted a second. You’re not doing that. But you’ll tease him about it regardless.

“Put what in my mouth?”

He doesn’t waste a breath. “Cock. My cock.”

You’re not even sure if he muted his mic by now, but the way he says it in that needy, desperate broken voice is so sinful you’re surprised you haven’t jumped his bones. Too bad you won’t give him what he wants—or at least not completely.

You rub your thumb over the head of his dick, dribbles of pre-cum still messily spurting from his slit. He’s not paying attention to the game—no, his eyes were focused entirely on you. You would scold him, but you’re entirely too aroused by the way his mouth basically waters in anticipation.

You maintain eye contact when you dip your head down slowly, an experimental kitten lick on his tip and he immediately thrusts his hip, dick slipping past your lips. You pull back, expecting that exact reaction—and he whimpers. Whimpers.

It’s not hard to pick up on the screaming from his headset, his friends clearly pissed off that hes been in the same spot for well over a minute now, becoming an easy kill to enemies on the other team. “Puppy, how come you’re losing? I thought you were doing well.”

Before he could respond, you tighten your grip on his shaft, and he groans, trying to bite down the noise—maybe he didn’t mute it after all. It’s almost animalistic how he chases your hand.

But you’re not as forgiving now—misbehaving boys get punished. You lick the underside of his dick, dragging the flatness of it up to his head, saltiness of his pre-cum overpowering your tastebuds before pulling back to see Soobin has basically abandoned the game, head thrown back as both his hands grip the sheets under him, letting out broken pitched moans.

You smile, knowing you gave him the impression that you’d put him in your mouth. No, you’re here to have your fun. He peeks through an eye at feeling you do nothing more, and the moment he does, you slap—hard. Maybe a tad bit harder than you intended.

Your aim was his nutsack, balls full of cum you could see he was holding from the week you’ve challenged him to not jerk off, and god—the way his eyes fly open, jaw slacking as his legs spasm, letting out a sound you’ve never heard a man make— you wonder why you haven’t done this sooner.

“You didn’t get off like I told you to right? Good puppy.” He nods frantically, his vision fogging.

He looks so broken, tears streaming down his cheeks faster than you could even take notice of. If his friends didn’t hear him before, they definitely heard him now. He’s a hiccuping mess, nose running when you decide to give him a little more, swirling your tongue around his tip, warm in your mouth— then you pull back before he loses control and starts fucking your mouth.

“Puppy can’t talk? Your friends know how much of a whore you are now…isn’t that embarrassing?” you coo, your hand still jerking him off. “What would they say knowing you’re my little mutt, obeying each and every word like a dog in heat?”

The words are getting to him. He tried to keep quiet for the sake of his pride— anyone knowing how desperate he gets for you is a hit to his ego, it’s embarrassing the amount of things he’d do just for a chance of eating you out, but this spurs him on— having you degrade him, telling him what exactly he is to you. Your obeying dog.

You could see his lips quivering, and notice the tensing of his body. Quickly, you part your hair to the side, take him in your mouth all the way, trying to relax your throat as to not gag when your nose finally presses against his abdomen—but of course you do, it’s hard not to with how thick he is. It doesn’t take a milisecond before you feel his load spilling down your throat, his big hands moving to hold the back of your head, orgasm crashing down like waves of the pacific came over him.

You stay there for a few more seconds, feeling yourself get lightheaded with how much he manages to cum, and even when you pull away with a need to take a deep breath, you see that his dick was still spurting little bits. “Holy shit.” you say under your breath, slightly coughing as you wipe away at the semen that managed to dribble down your chin.

Soobin had a lot stored.

Soobin falls backwards on the bed, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, some of his hair plastered to his forehead and his temple. There’s a lot of thoughts spinning in his head. And he doesn’t exactly know how to label them. Lazily, he takes his headset off, throwing it to god knows where.

“Hey. Question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you fuck other people?”

You perk up at the question, the randomness making you stay silent for a bit until you shrug. “No, not really.”

Soobin sighs. He doesn’t know why. Was it relief? Maybe. Probably.

“Do you?” you ask it almost timidly, unknowingly playing with the threads of your ripped jeans. Thank god to Soobin because he answers quickly, not allowing for any space of anxiousness.

“No. Only you.”

You slowly nod, pursing your lips. “Cool.”

“Yeah, very cool,” then his brows furrow at a thought popping up in his head, “Wait, do you like,”

You raise your brows. “Do I what?”

“Like, you know, suck off other guys?”

You scoff, he’s so ridiculous. You don’t even get to see his reaction to your answers, as you’re sitting on the floor and his back is on the mattress. “No Soobin, I don’t suck off other guys. Well, not as of recently. You’re the only one I’ve been doing this with.”

“Oh, o-okay.” You snort at the cute stutter.

Too bad you don’t catch the small ‘good’ he says under his breath.

note: when i checked the word count I was so shocked we’re keeping that a secret 😭 appreciate any feedback!

[urgardenandmine]

parker's lab buddy 🕷 - p. parker

hi y'all! this is my first like piece of work so i am extremely sorry if this is so shit but i hope it's good enough for y'all to at least read to past the time! hope y'all enjoy!

summary: peter parker is ready to start his senior year but will it be fun...? genre: fluff (ish?) pairing: m!reader x peter parker (the spider-man himself) word count: 1.4K

today was a nice, brisk autumn day in the simple city queens of the great state of new york. the weather was a nice 57F, with the sky being somewhat checkered with clouds that casted nice shade for the student of midtown high. one student in particular was walking down the cluttered halls of midtown high, who himself was mr. peter parker. peter let out a blissful sigh as he was making his way towards his next class. looking around, he saw some noticeable faces. 

one face was his own right hand man, ned leeds. he was dressed in brown cargo pants and the usual muted navy blue colored hoodie his lola had gifted him last christmas. his bag was half open, but it went unnoticed as he was trying to talk to betty bryant, the head host of midtown’s broadcasting show. peter zoomed in, staring at betty’s facial expressions which did not look good whatsoever. 

rushing over, he stood behind the pair, listening in to his best friend somewhat ruin his chances with they blonde.

“and y’know- vader wasn’t really a bad guy! just heavily misunderstood!” he exclaimed, almost buzzing as he continued to ramble on his all-time favorite sci-fi movie. the blonde mindlessly nodded, snapping out of her trance as she saw the brunette make his way towards his friend. she smiled, waving at him causing ned to turn. 

“hi peter!” betty chirped, smiling at him as he returned it. she then pulled out her phone, opening her recording app as she aimed it towards the other’s mouth.

“my sources say you dropped from the school’s decathlon, why is that?” she interrogated, practically shoving her gray cased phone into his rosy lips. peter’s eyes darted towards his best friend, who sheepishly laughed as he avoided the secret hero’s gaze. 

peter chuckled, shrugging as he gripped his backpack straps, his head moving away from the phone. 

“w-well, y’know, i got a new job helping my aunt may so i kinda couldn’t really do all the things i do.” he answered, cheering himself in his head from his well-composed response.

“what things?” she pushed, raising her left eyebrow. the sudden new question made the “jumpy” teen freeze. by the change in his body language, the blonde smiled. 

as he was about to answer, the halls were filled with a piercing call that caused many students to immediately disperse. betty huffed, putting her phone away as she stared at peter and ned, who had exchanged a small glance before she leaned into ned’s face. the boy jumped, his face somewhat turning red as she eyed them both.

“i’ll figure you two out eventually.” she whispered, before turning on her heel to catch up to her other friends. 

peter let out a small sigh of relief, glad that his cover wasn’t blown. collecting his thoughts, he then turned his attention to his friend as he punched the other boy’s shoulder gently. he was still getting used to his powers after having to fight off about one petty thief last night. ned winced, rubbing his right shoulder looking at his friend.

“sources? sources, ned!” peter whisper yelled, looking around the hall to make sure they were in the clear. ned sputtered, shrugging as he gripped his soft green backpack straps. this seemed to be a habit the boys shared when they were caught. it was an easy tell for them both considering one was literally spider-man.

“i was just talking about star wars! then she was asking me on you and it slipped, promise. i would never betray my-” he looked around carefully, “superhero best friend.” ned whispered happily, nudging him. peter rolled his dark brown orbs, smirking as he nudged his friend back.

“come on, we’re gonna be late for physics.” he reminded the other, both making their way to their first class of the school year. as they made their way down the hallway, peter’s hair then stood on end on his neck. his spidey sense began to tingle, alerting him to a new ‘danger” or “disturbance” in the force. looking behind him, peter saw a student he’s never seen before. as he eyed him, peter’s senses began to almost deafen him. shaking himself out of his own head, peter made his way to class with ned with one thought in his head…

was he really gonna have to fight on his first day of school?

⋆｡°✩

as the two walked into the lab classroom, the two took a deep breath and smiled at one another. the smell of chemicals, the sights of beakers and more practically excited the two. the two saw empty tables in the back, both making a beeline towards the back.

ned made his way inside, sitting on the left side. as peter was about to slip off his backpack, his good ‘ol buddy flash thompson immediately sat himself down onto the stool, setting his checker backpack onto the floor at his feet. peter stood there dazed, looking at his friend as thompson looked up at him. he stared at him, coughing into his fist as he chuckled.

“uh, parker? i know i’m great but you can’t copy me the first day of school.” he said, chuckling at flash’s own friend who was behind ned’s seat. flash exchanged a look with ned, who was left a bit in shock but not really surprised. behind ned, a small cough was let out. turning back, he made eye contact with a burly teen, who nodded his head to the left. ned nodded, slowly removing himself from the stool. ned and peter stood a bit annoyed, yet again, not really shocked that he would pull this on the first day of school. 

the bell rang again, signaling that class was in session. the class teacher, mr. roger harrington looked at the two and only standing boys.

“uh, boys? if you wouldn’t mind taking a seat?” he hinted, both aiming at the empty seats in class. the two nodded, both now somewhat embarrassed that their first day is now off to a great start. in the middle of the class, there was an empty seat one closer to the board, next to one student and in the back, there was an empty table. peter slowly made his way to the back table, not looking back. sitting down, he had seen that ned has made his way to the other table, accidentally separating the two. mr. harrington clapped his hands, smiling at all his students as he was ready to begin his lesson.

ned’s hand shot up, hoping to ask to sit next to his partner in crime, yet mr. harrington eyed him as he let out a soft sigh.

“now ned, you know once i start my lesson, i can’t stop for anything other than necessary questions and bathroom breaks.” he reminded him, causing ned to drop his hand. the tan boy looked behind his shoulder at the other, mouthing a small “sorry” as he smiled at him. peter shook his head, chuckling as he sat in the back and took out his notebook. looking down into his bag, his hair began to stand on end again. peter’s spidey senses shot into overdrive, making him shoot his head up. the oak door creaked opened and soon walked in the school principal. trailing behind was the same boy from earlier, with a black book bag on one shoulder. 

“oh! principal morita! what a pleasure it is to see you! happy first day of school!” mr. roger’s chirped. the principal smiled, waving “hi” to the students as he had one hand placed on his hip. stepping towards mr. harrington, morita had whispered softly about a new “transfer student.” 

the boy stood nearby the door, eyeing the two adults. while he was eyeing them, peter had his eyes on him. 

the other teenage boy seemed more calm than nervous. most kids would be at least somewhat jittery or shy, but not him. he didn’t budge at all. peter took in everything.

he noticed the boy’s skin color, the way his eye color had somewhat lightened due to the sunlight and fluorescent lights of the room. he also made a mental note on the boy’s hair color and his height. 

as he continued to stare and zone out, he was snapped out of it when he heard…

“why don’t you sit next to peter. peter, raise your hand please.” mr. harrington announced, causing the teenage hero to shake his head. peter turned red, seeing everyone’s eyes on him as he slowly raised his hand. the teacher extended his arm in parker’s direction, smiling at the new student as he trudged down the aisle. 

removing his book bag, he sat down on the stool. peter was practically laser focused on him, his hair still on end. his gut was telling him something was wrong.

sitting up right after retrieving his pencil pouch and notebook, the boy turned to the other and smiled softly. extending one hand to him, he spoke gently.

“nice to meet you peter, i’m [y/n].” 

peter didn’t smile, but darted between the hand that was towards him and his eyes. peter’s brain began to run a million scenarios in his hand and only one thought…

i guess he was going to fight on his first day of school.

⋆｡°✩

hope it was a good read! the spider man i went off of was the one you see above so everything written towards him in this piece is basically things i can get off of the actor.

i guess this is like a part by part story? i didn't wanna make it too long for my first one TT

if y'all notice any like weird continuity issues, i deeply apologize because this one takes place during the time of the first movie/vulture era and i barely remember the plot of it so i did my best

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[specialagentlokitty]

Reid x Deaf!Teen!reader - translation

reid x teen/child!reader who is deaf but no one realises till he starts signing to her - Anon💜

A/N: sign language will be in bold

Sitting in the interrogation room, you frowned a little as you stared at the two older men in front of you, they were talking but you had no clue what they were saying.

Looking around the room, you found a clock and decided that if you stared at it long enough maybe they would let you go.

“Can you give us anything? Did you see anything?” Rossi asked.

You didn’t reply and he turned to Hotch who sighed and shook his head, gesturing for him to leave and they did.

They stood on the other side of the glass watching you.

“Are they just ignoring us?” Derek asked.

“I assume so, but they’re the only one what was in the area. Surely they must’ve heard something, we can’t even get a name out of them.”

“Partners with the unsub?” Emily asked.

“I don’t think so, the profile points to the unsub working alone. Unable to work with a partner.” JJ replied.

“Maybe they’re protecting the unsub then.” Hotch said.

They all looked at you, they had no clue what to do.

They couldn’t find any ID on you, no address or anything, you didn’t have a phone with you, you weren’t coming up on their system and you didn’t match any missing persons report.

So if you did have a family they didn’t notice that you were missing.

“Hey Reid, come here.” Derek called.

Reid looked over from where he was sat at the table doing some research.

Getting up, he walked over.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“What’s with the kid? You’re the only one who hasn’t talk to them maybe they’ll talk to you.”

“We’ve all tried, we’re not getting anywhere.” JJ sighed.

Reid turned to look at you through the glass, you were looking at the clock on the wall.

“We haven’t gotten any response, they won’t even look at us most of the time unless we touch the table.” Hotch explained.

Reid watched you, raising a finger but stopped himself.

Instead, he walked into the room, noticing how you didn’t look at him as he quietly closed the door.

What did make you turn was when he tapped once against the table and you looked at him.

“Hi, I’m Dr Spencer Reid, can I sit?” He asked.

You blinked, staring at him blankly.

He smiled a little and raised his hands.

Can I sit?

You quickly nodded and waited for him to sit down before raising your hands.

You can sign?

He nodded.

Yes. I learned in high school, my team think you’ve been ignoring them. Are you mute or deaf?

Deaf. Since birth. My parents only sign so I never learned to lip read.

He smiled his head and nodded in understanding.

Can you tell me your name?

(Y/N) (L/N). What’s yours?

Spencer Reid, can I have someone come in to ask you questions? I’ll be right here to translate.

You nodded and he left, you sat patiently waiting for him to come back.

It was one of the same men from not long ago and he smiled at you.

This is Hotch, he’s going to ask you questions and I’ll translate for you.

Go ahead.

You were asked all sorts of questions, did you see anything, was there anything unusual, why were you out so late.

They were trying to get as much information they could to find anything that could help and when you saw Hotch ask something and Reid stop translating giving him a deadpan look at Hotch smiled sheepishly you smiled.

You tapped the table getting their attention.

He asked if I heard anything, didn’t he?

Yeah. Sorry.

You laughed a little, and shook your head.

I heard a massive mole man wondering about.

Reid laughed at this and told Hotch what you said and he laughed a little bit as well, smiling at you.

Do you have any family we can call?

You shook your head a little.

No. They passed. You can just drop me off where you found me.

Reid frowned and turned to Hotch.

You watched them have a conversation that seemed to last a few minutes and finally Reid turned his attention back to you.

You can stay at the station with us for now, just to be safe. Is that okay?

You shrugged a little.

Yeah beats my crap motel room.

Reid smiled and nodded, gesturing for you to follow him and you did.

He showed you where you would be able to sleep, and got you some food and something to drink and he sat talking with you most of the night.

When you did fall asleep, Reid covered you up with his sweater and went back to helping with the case.

He knew they’d have to cal CPS eventually, when the unsub was caught and you were safe, but he felt protective over you. He felt he had to keep you safe

[sooniebby]

ఌ 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐎𝐘

꧁ 𝙊𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

Teaser ➤ first night together… a kiss? How about a dildo <3

Pt 1

Word count › 4.2k

Rating �� NSFT

Warnings › none

Kinks › size kink, a/b/o, phone sex

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＢＥＧＩＮＮＩＮＧ

“So… Riki… do you ever think properly?” Miss Watanabe Yuki asked as she stared at her son and his… uh, new mate basically. Her dark hair with slivers of gray hair mixed in, she was certainly much older than (Name)’s own mother.

Riki rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t. Is there anyway to fix this?”

“No. There is not! Because the only way is if you died or, uh, actually that’s the only way.” Miss Watanabe said, frowning.

(Name) glanced at Riki. “I don’t mind if you died.” That was a lie, his inner ‘omega’ screamed at the idea of losing Riki.

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Riki rolled his eyes. When he had brought (Name) home, no one should’ve been here but luck wasn’t on his side when his mother was here.

Miss Watanabe sighed. “Well, this is your mess. You’re both adults basically. There is nothing I can do beside help Mister Tanaka get comfortable as an omega.”

(Name) bit his lip. “Thank you…”

“I have a shift at the hospital tonight. I’ll be hoping you guys don’t do anything else idiotic tonight, alright? Stay far apart—”

“—won’t be difficult.” Riki cut in, earning a sharp glare from his mother that he gladly returned.

“Just try not to trigger his heat. I’ll be back in the afternoon.” And with that, Riki and (Name) were the only ones left. Riki huffed and got up, walking away to his room.

Just leaving (Name) there by himself. (Name) frowned. He wasn’t even sure why Riki was angry. Did he not want this? What idiot marks someone they don’t want?

Watanabe Riki apparently.

(Name) was about to just turn in the tv when a pair of clothes was dropped on his head. He turned back to see Riki, a blank stare on his face.

“Clothes to change into. You can sleep in my mom’s bedroom.”

“Why not yours?”

Riki raised an eyebrow. “And kickstart your heat? Unless you wanna fuck, don’t come near me, dumbass.”

(Name) blushed at the thought. As well as the sudden gush of slick from his ass. Riki’s nose flared up at the scent and he quickly covered it, looking away.

“I’ll be in my room. Ignore me.” He muttered before speed walking away. The door slammed shut right behind him. (Name) was left by himself in a random house. He took the clothes off his head and sniffed them for Riki’s scent but it wasn’t there. The only scent there was of laundry detergent.

A whimper left his lips in disappointment. Was he not worthy enough for his alpha’s scent? His alpha? God damn, he was already bonded to Riki that he was crying over his scent.

(Name) reached up and felt his face. Oh, he was actually crying. He clinched the clothes in his arms as he tried to keep his sobbing mute. Everything was so heighten for him.

Newly presenting and getting an alpha that seemed upset at being with him, he felt so ashamed. What would his parents think? He didn’t even want to think about it.

The rejection they would have towards him was already ingrained in his head. (Name) didn’t want to change. His uniform had Riki’s smell on it. The only scent he could get from him.

He placed the clean clothes on the coffee table and sniffed his own shirt. Riki’s scent was on it, faintly but it was there. He sighed in relief and kept it near his nose, moving to lay down on his back on the couch.

What it smelled like was hard to explain but to (Name) it belonged to someone he liked. Mainly his omega, really, but his omega was him…

So it was him liking Riki.

But he couldn’t even remember what he had said to Riki back then. Riki looked so different from middle school. Taller for one. And he was more cutesy back then. He thought for a moment, just wondering what he could’ve said that pushed Riki to hate him.

Until he did.

And, maybe Riki was right to hate him.

ꕥ 4 years ago ꕥ

(Name) watched as a couple of alphas played basketball not too far away from him. He hated them so much. His parents had only fueled that hatred by always saying birthing a beta was their life’s failure.

He had started to take it out on any alpha he came across. And in turn, many alphas didn’t pay any attention to him. Betas and other omegas thought he was a little shit but in a fun way. Alphas always had a sense of pride to them—it was funny to see a little beta talk shit about them in their face.

So (Name) gained a reputation of back talking alphas, no matter the age, at their middle school. But he was still a smarty pants so most teachers ignored it as long as he didn’t go too far.

And he usually didn’t. At most, a few alphas cried but most alphas didn’t give too shots. Their egos already too big to be knocked down by a useless beta.

But there was one who’s ego wasn’t large. Watanabe Riki. An alpha raised only be his omega mother who had taught him to be as kind and friendly as possible. Treat omegas and betas as equals. That his alpha status meant nothing in favor of good manners.

So most saw him as a prime example of a good alpha. An alpha who cared.

Riki mainly kept to himself. Only two friends who was a beta and omega respectively. He wasn’t on (Name)’s radar. The only alphas he went for was the ones that annoyed him or started it.

But one day, Riki unfortunately came across your path. He was walking with his omega friend when a few other omegas started an argument with him. It was out of no where, Riki wasn’t even sure what he did.

His friend was also so confused on why they were fighting. It was somewhat calm before one of the omegas pushed his friend. Riki growled at the omega and pushed her back into her friend group, but with his added strength of being an alpha, he had made all of them tumble down.

And in the eyes of (Name) who was just passing by, all he saw was an alpha bullying a group of poor omegas. (Name) grunted out in anger and ran over to Riki to punch him in the face.

“What the fuck, Tanaka!!” Riki’s friend had screeched but (Name) paid her no mind. (Name) didn’t think that she was a omega due to her much muted scent compared to the others.

(Name) grasped Riki’s shirt, pulling him close before grinning at the height difference. He was taller than Riki. Riki only came to his neck in height. (Name) was 5’8, his full height now compared to Riki’s 5’6.

“An alpha this fucking short? How pathetic. Is that why you’re bullying omegas? To feel better about yourself?” He chastised, shaking Riki while the poor alpha just stared at him in confusion.

“What are you—?”

“—but it makes sense. An alpha that doesn’t matter to anyone but his mommy will try anything to seem important! Idiot alphas like you aren’t important in this world and it’s time your kin knew that.”

Riki stared at (Name) in shock. What… What did he do to deserve such hatred? He’s never even talked to this beta before.

“Try not to bully omegas anymore, alright? Idiot alpha. Do everyone a favor and not show your face around me or those omegas ever again.” (Name) pushed Riki to the ground. “Disappear even. No will care.”

“You fucking asshole!” Riki’s friend yelled, shoving (Name) away as she ran to comfort Riki. (Name) was confused on why she was acting like this for a bully until he saw Riki’s expression.

The alpha was crying.

The first ever alpha he’s ever seen cry hysterically about his words. Riki hugged his friend tightly as tears streamed down his face, snot and sniffling. His whimpering and whining was heard as he cried as if he was a five year old again.

And maybe he had never dealt with something so terrible said to him.

To be told to essentially kill yourself… it was… much for a middle schooler.

Even the omegas that were pushed looked… guilty about what happened. And in the first time ever, (Name) felt disgusted with himself. He wondered to himself what good was he at taking his anger out on people who didn’t deserve it.

After that, he didn’t do anything like that again.

But he also never saw Riki again.

���

(Name) wanted to throw up. He.. he never remembered himself being so terrible. Did he forgot because he was so ashamed. How could he do that him. His inner omega burned at the harsh words he had once used.

He can’t let Riki continue to feel this way. (Name) sprung out of the couch and ran to Riki’s room, opening it with ease.

Riki jumped up in shock, cock out and everything. But (Name) was too frantic to notice. Riki quickly covered himself with a blanket and was about ready to yell at the idiot when (Name) hugged him.

He froze, shocked at (Name) willingly touching him. (Name) was crying, moving himself to sit on Riki’s lap as he hugged him tightly.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Alpha. I was so terrible to you,” (Name) whined.

“Sorry… sorry for what?”

“For hurting you so much. I hate that I did that to you.”

Riki sighed. “It’s just the mating mark talking. I’m sure you don’t even remember it.” He moved to push (Name) away but was stopped by a kiss on his lips.

His eyes widened as he felt (Name) pull away from the kiss, a blush on his cheeks. It was his first kiss but he’d never tell (Name) that.

“Maybe the mating mark made me realize what I had done but I am sorry. This is… it’s all so new to me. Being an omega and being mated so quickly, I don’t know what to do.”

(Name) sighed. “But you’re the only thing I feel close to. It doesn’t feel scary to be with you… and I don’t hate being mated to you… I might like it… a little bit.” He muttered.

“Is it the heat talking?” Riki asked.

“What? No. It’s my feelings. Do you hate me…?”

“I don’t think I could if I tried… don’t make fun of me but I only came to our school to get revenge. What you said to me that day messed with me… I still have dreams about it…”

“And I don’t think I can just forget it and forgive you so easily but I’m happy you apologized..” Riki smiled softly. “I like the idea of being mated to you. But I hate that I didn’t give you a choice… I was wrong for that.”

(Name) smiled, pulling Riki in for another hug. “I don’t feel too bad about it but I’m scared. I lived as a beta for so long. Please be patient with me.”

Riki hummed, hesitantly moving his arms to wrap around (Name)’s waist. He smiled to himself, knowing that whatever relationship he would build with (Name) would be better that anything he dreamed of.

(Name), while feeling a bit odd from being hugged, felt a dribble of slick drip from inside of him. Oh. The feeling of Riki’s much larger body and hands on his own body was doing something to his omega.

No wonder Riki had told him earlier to stay away. If being touched by him was about to awaken something, what being in a room filled with his scents.

Riki seemed to also realize the problem with having (Name) in his room as he pushed him away, albeit with no force really.

“Out. Out. I can’t have you in here.” He said, ready to carry (Name) to his mom’s bedroom when (Name) stopped him.

“Why not..? We’re mated, aren’t we..?”

“Yes but it’s your first heat! You don’t even like me that much. I already took so much from you, I can’t take away your first time.”

“But what if I want to give it to you… what if I told you you wouldn’t be the first man I fucked?”

Riki growled at the thought of (Name) with another but pushed the thought away. “Stop it. It’s your heat talking. Go, please. My rut is coming in a few hours.”

(Name) whined. “No. I’m scared to spend it alone. Be with me, please.” He grasped one of Riki’s hand, blushing at how he needed two hands to fully cover just one of Riki’s.

“I would but my rut is coming. Having a rut and heat together is perfect time for pups. I will not ruin anything else for you.”

Oh. (Name) quickly imagined the thought of children and while they seemed nice in the future. He didn’t want them right now. Guess Riki is right, he thought to himself. Even though his inner omega was purring at the thought of pups, his more rational immediately said no.

His scent soured as he pulled away from Riki. “Okay…”

Riki bit his lip as he tried to think of a way to help his omega.

“Oh, phone sex.”

“Huh?”

“Go to my mom’s room and lock the door. Call me and I’ll guide you through using a dildo. It should be good enough for now. Your heat should only last a day or two.”

(Name) didn’t like the thought of phone sex. Sure, if they were at different homes but Riki was right there. He had him to himself. His mother wasn’t even home!

It was perfect for sex but knew being in rut and heat meant pups, undoubtedly.

“Here, put your number in my phone.” Riki said as he walked away to his closet. (Name) just finished as Riki came back with..

With a dildo.

“Why do you own that?”

“Gag gift from a few friends. I haven’t used it,” he said, nonchalantly. (Name) shrugged and took it from him, a bit intimidated at how thick the fake dildo was. It had to maybe be eight inches?

Hopefully that slick will do some heavy lifting. (Name) gave Riki a chaste kiss on his lips before walking away. He heard Riki lock his room door as he walked to Miss Watanabe’s room right after grabbing his phone. It felt odd to masturbate in her room but she did say for them to stay apart.

Oh well.

(Name) locked the door and turned on a lamp to illuminate the room. It was a basic room with a nice big bed in the middle. He laid down on it, humming at how soft it was. With one hand, he slipped his clothes off, finally free to feel the cool fresh hair on his skin.

His phone rang beside him. He hesitated but picked it up, bring it to his ear. Riki’s breathing was first heard before a muted voice was heard.

“R…Riki?”

“First name basis already?” His voice was shaky, as if he was scared to speak.

It made sense. This phone call was supposed to substitute sex. And Riki was a virgin. (Name) himself wasn’t but he never told anyone. It wasn’t good sex anyway.

“We’re mates… we should be calling each other by our first name.”

Riki’s hum in response went straight to (Name)’s dick. He glanced down at his cock, surprised it even moved. That wasn’t his inner omega talking..

That was his own attraction to Riki’s voice.

“How wet are you?”

“I think I’m dried up.” (Name) muttered, reaching to touch his asshole. It was mainly dry—not enough for him to use the dildo unless he wanted to tear his ass open.

Riki was quiet for a moment before laughing. “That hole of yours can’t work without my permission, huh?”

(Name) blushed. Well he didn’t think of it like that but the thought of Riki being the effect for any slick that came out made his head mushy. Oh he liked the thought of that.

“That’s good actually. You’ll need me whenever you want to masturbate. You can only think of me.”

“I already do..” (Name) said, smirking at the choked sound Riki gave. He liked the little power he had over him.

“…does thinking about me fucking you help with your slick problem? My hands spreading your ass apart as slick drips down.”

(Name) moaned at the image. He could feel slick beginning to gather as it slowly slipped out. Riki was quiet for a moment but (Name) was sure he heard the faint sound of a bottle closing.

Was… was he getting off too?

He felt himself get excited at the thought. He hoped it was true.

As slick began to gush out, he slipped in two fingers, wanting to get quickly to the dildo part. He sighed at the feeling, making sure his phone picked up any noises he made.

(Name) from five hours ago would’ve fainted at the thought of doing this but right now, he wished he had met Riki earlier.

As he stretched himself out with two fingers, he used his free hand to put the phone on speaker. He pulled at his nipple, trying to get himself to produce more slick.

Only Riki’s stuttered breathing was heard from the phone. He was certainly preoccupied with something. The sound of something wet and slick confirmed (Name)’s thought on him jerking off to his voice.

“Riki…”

“Hngh?”

“I wish it was your fingers.. they’re so big.. they could stretch me so wide.” (Name) moaned, slipping in a third. Riki grunted as a stuttered moan left (Name)’s lips as he reached his prostate.

His stomach felt a bit weird. As if something inside of him was craving something. (Name), in this moment, thought about if his body would change? Since it seemed like his omega was simply dormant all these years.

Did he.. did he already have a womb?

His ass clenched around his fingers at the thought. He wasn’t omega material, especially with his more skinnier frame. Most omegas had a bit more meat on them. Especially with the ass and chest area.

(Name) cupped his chest and frowned. No way could he make Riki happy with such a body.

“(Name)…”

“Hm?” (Name) felt himself grin at Riki saying his name. It sounded so good coming from him. Riki stayed silent for a moment before growling.

“Your door is locked, right?”

“Yes…”

“Good. Good. I almost lost myself.”

(Name) glanced over to the door. He wished he hadn’t. A moan left his lips as he felt he was a bit ready for the dildo. He grabbed the dildo and brought it down to his hole.

“Riki… I’m going to put it in now.”

“Okay. Think of me,” a laugh left Riki. “I wish I was there to fuck you. It hurts.”

“What does?”

“My dick. I want to fuck you.”

(Name) blushed, “I want you too…” he hummed as he began to push the dildo inside, gasping at how different it felt. It didn’t hurt as much because of the copious amount of slick he was leaking but it certainly felt odd.

He would have to get used to someone inside of him like this.

“How does it feel?” Riki suddenly asked, sounding a bit different than his usual self. Was his rut getting to him already?

“Good…” (Name) moaned. “So good…” he continued to push the dildo inside until it reached the hilt, shuddering at it pressing deeply into his prostate.

“Good… it can move y’know?”

“Huh?” (Name) questioned before screaming at the sudden movement from the dildo. The dildo vibrated directly on his prostate, earning (Name) his first orgasm of the night. His own cum splattered on his stomach as he cried at the feeling.

Why didn’t Riki tell him that?!

“This is only the lowest level… how far should I go, Omega?”

“I.. ngh, want to feel as if you were here…” (Name) muttered, grabbing the base of the dildo as he pulled out only thrust it back inside. The vibration was a nice touch that teased his prostate in a way his fingers could never.

“So the highest then? Because if I was there with you, my cock inside your tight wet heat, I’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk.”

(Name) arched his back with a cry as the vibration went to the highest level. It was harsh against his prostate as he left it positioned there. He didn’t even have to move it anymore if Riki left it at this level.

He could cum all night with it like this.

And it seemed Riki knew this as the vibration went back to the lowest level. (Name) whined in anger, wanting to punch Riki for messing with his masturbation.

“Riki..!”

“What’s wrong?” Riki asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Please.. it feels better higher.”

“But do you deserve it?”

(Name) groaned. “Don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“You suck so much…” (name) whined, reaching down to use the dildo once more.

“I hope you aren’t touching the dildo. I’m supposed to be the one fucking you, yeah?”

“Yes…”

“So let me fuck you.”

(Name) huffed but did as he was told, gripping the bed sheets beneath him. The vibration suddenly went up as (Name) screamed out. His heat was here, he could faintly tell by how much slick was coming out.

His mind was drifting away from answering anything Riki was telling him. He couldn’t think. The only thing on his mind was chasing his orgasm with the vibrating cock inside of him.

It was only a few minutes but (Name) was able to reach three more orgasms. His cock weeped at the overstimulation. (Name) as well began to whine about it being too much.

“Just one more, Omega. I have something else to tell you.” Riki sighed, the sound of him jerking off now more apparent. His voice was shaky and his breathing was heavy.

He was close.

“The dildo…”

(Name) whimpered. He couldn’t say anything at all. The constant pressure against his prostate was becoming too much.

“It’s based off of my real cock.”

(Name) could only cry as he came, arching his back. No way. This entire time… Riki was technically inside of him. The dildo was powered off as (Name) panted, not moving an inch to take it out.

He liked it inside.

Especially the fact that it was based off Riki’s own cock. His inner omega purred at the thought. Could he keep the dildo? He hoped so. Ah, he had to thank Riki’s friends for the gift.

The call was still going as (Name) could hear Riki move around before silence. (Name) soon found himself falling asleep.

He was excited for this dumb heat to be over.

ꕥ

“I’m not angry. But c’mon… you couldn’t have told me?” Miss Watanabe asked.

Of course she was shocked to see a sleeping (Name) in her room with cum all over his stomach and a dildo shoved up his ass once she was able to pick the lock. Riki was still in his room, his rut having fully started.

(Name) wanted to see him. His heat was over, according to Miss Watanabe. First omega heats never lasted longer than a day and hardly felt like anything besides being horny.

He wanted to ask if that meant he could spend Riki’s rut with him but he already felt like he was on thin ice.

Surely asking his mate’s mother if he could he fucked by her son isn’t something great.

“Have you talked to your parents, Tanaka-San?”

“No… I don’t want to. They’ll get angry at me.”

“Why? Sure it’s unfortunate but nothing too horrible. You were just a beta.” She said as she plopped down on the couch right beside (Name).

“That’s the thing. I was always just a beta. If I tell them that I was originally an omega this whole time they’ll kill me.”

“You weren’t bitched…?”

“No…? Riki said I was always an omega. He could tell since middle school.”

Miss Watanabe looked shocked. “If he didn’t bitch you… I…” fear suddenly appeared on her face. “Do you take any sort of medication?”

(Name) stared at her with raised eyebrows. “Yes… it’s vitamins. My doctor prescribed them.”

“Is your doctor working at a hospital? Have you met them at a hospital?”

“No… they’re a family doctor. She comes to our house.” (Name) suddenly felt panicked. And it certainly didn’t help that Miss Watanabe was panicked as well.

She tried to calm herself down. “Okay, don’t go home for a few days. I need you to come to the hospital I work at to get some tests run.”

“Why? What’s wrong with me?”

“The only way your omega could be dormant for so long is if you took suppressants. It’s the only possible way Riki could even tell too. He’s always had a sharper nose than most.”

But suppressants were illegal, (Name) wanted to say. They had too many side effects on omegas and alphas to be safe for consumption. It led to infertility for most and erratic behavior with one’s inner secondary gender. He’s heard so many horror stories of omegas becoming betas due to the medication.

No.

(Name) looked at Miss Watanabe. She knew he had finally connected the dots.

His parents were utterly insane.

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

╰┈─➤ ＥＮＤ

Guys I just wanted to write some smut and suddenly I got a whole ass plot! Hope y’all liked some new development tho

What are your parents doing? Guess you’ll find out next time <3

Tags: @the-ultimate-librarian @yuwaimo @acehasyettobe

Ask to tagged for the next part

[chronicdisasterwrites]

i’d keep you company in the dark

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

genre + warnings: - ANGST but FLUFFY ending!! jjk movie spoilers!! happens after the ending of jjk-0, death, sad gojo, kisses.

word count: 1,672

authors note: this was a request by my lovely @daisy-the-quake <3 it's a song-fic, inspired by the song "peaches” by grandson x k.flay

enjoy <3

Your eyes shoot open as you lie still and unmoving. The blinking red light of the clock on your bedside table indicates midnight. Yet another nightmare, about the same thing. It starts with you standing face-to-face with Suguru. His face twisted with the sneer he had on when he came to the school to announce his plan; "The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons". You try to move but you can’t. You try to talk to him, try to convince him to listen to reason, but nothing comes out. He laughs, then it shifts and his laughing transitions into an irksome drone coming out of his ajar mouth. It turns into an incessant buzzing growing exponentially until it’s so loud you can’t see, think, or feel anything. And then the noise stops completely and you’re standing in the sky looking down at Satoru standing in an arena, alone, with a horde of shadows surrounding him. They all make their way toward him like ants capturing a crystal of sugar. You don't do anything. You don’t move or scream or fight. You feel like you don't even exist. Just when the shadows are about to swallow him whole does he look up at you, with hollow eyes and no will to survive.

The hammering of raindrops against your windows could’ve also been a factor, but the sweat on your face and the drumming of your heart indicate otherwise. Taking a few deep breaths you try to normalize your heartbeat. It was exhausting, having the same nightmare over and over again. Ever since Suguru died, all your dreams seemed to be about the same thing. Then you imagine, how Satoru must be feeling. You fall back into reality and realize Satoru’s side of the bed was abandoned. It had been a few days since Suguru died, and since then Satoru had been acting strangely. You never asked him straight up if he was okay, because you know he wasn’t. Of course, he wasn’t. So you tried to show him you were there if he wanted to talk, but he always laughed it off and changed the subject without showing a moment’s weakness. He was acting like nothing happened and life was just fine and dandy. The dream you had fills your mind with thoughts of Satoru losing his mind to the grief of losing his best friend and trudging down a path from which he could never return. You couldn't help him in your dream. Instead, you just stood there watching him get consumed by his demons. You bolt out of bed to look for him. He wasn’t in the apartment you both shared, so you made a guess and decided to trust your gut. You take your keys, wear a raincoat, take an umbrella, shove your phone in your pocket, and make your way to Jujutsu Tech.

Parking your motorcycle in front of the steps of the school you see him sitting on the steps, head downturned and raindrops ricocheting off his Infinity. Once you start climbing the steps, does he lift his head to give you a small smile, tired and sullen, not at all like his genuine smile. 

You sigh and sit next to him, shoulders touching and legs brushing. Your face was half-covered by the hood of the raincoat but some raindrops still fell on your nose and exposed hands. Hearing the familiar buzz of Satoru’s Infinity, you look up and watch the raindrops slide down around you, making you feel like you were encased in a snow globe. The pattering of raindrops sounded muted and you felt safe and protected from the terrors of the world. So, this is how Satoru feels? 

“What brings you here?”

You remove your hood and look into his dull eyes. Shrugging, you reply with a tender voice, “I couldn’t find you so I figured you’d be here.” 

Satoru huffs, looking away and linking his hands together over his knees, “I’m fine before you ask.”

Gojo Satoru was a complex human being. Sometimes people tend to forget he is a human being, thanks to his charisma, strength, and holier-than-thou attitude. But that’s all he was; a human being, blessed burdened with the strength of a God. The ever-present smile on his dazzling face makes you forget that he’s not a shiny person. But when his eyes dim and his smile falls in the dark of the night when a million eyes aren’t on him you realize just how bruised and battered he is. 

You release a tired breath. He thinks he’s all alone in this world. He thinks no one can ever help him with anything because no one is as strong as him. The world always revolved around him, his strength, his power, his name. No one could ever equal him, so he believes it’s only fair for him to carry his burdens and sorrows on his own.

“Y’know Satoru…” He glances at you and quirks a thin, silver eyebrow. You stare ahead, picking at the skin around your nails. 

“You’re not alone. As much as you want to believe you are, you aren’t. So, if you aren’t gonna let me in, that’s fine. Just- please let yourself feel without putting on a front.”

You hear him exhale and watch him hang his head down from your peripheral vision. 

“What’s the point?” He mutters under his breath. The only reason you could hear him at all was because his Infinity dulled the noise in the outside world. 

This time you stare at his downturned head and you can’t stop yourself from speaking, “What’s the point? The point is that you don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to hurt alone. I want you to share your pain with me! Yeah sure, you can get through this alone. You can shove it under the rug, but just this once, don’t be the strongest. Just let me hurt with you, let’s get through this together. Please, Satoru.”

He lifts his head and stares you straight in your eyes. You know how much he’s hurting. His world turned upside down and everything changed. He had to watch his friend plummet into the darkness and he had to be the one to deliver the final blow. His heart is shattered and you’re scared there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. The only thing you can do is be by his side and try to pick up his broken pieces.   

He exhales a shaky breath as his eyes glisten like a dewdrop on a blade of grass, “Can we get through this?” 

You reach out your hand and move a couple of strands of his hair from his vision. You let your hand lie against his warm cheek and he lets his eyes shut, “I know everything went to shit. But it’s not permanent, Satoru. I don’t know if things will get better, but we can only hope, right?”

He takes your hand in his own and runs his thumb over your knuckles.

“Yeah. We can only hope.”

He sighs and stares at your hand, “I miss him.”

“I know…”

You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. It’s dark, except for a few streetlights. You think he’d enjoy a piece of cake or something sweet right about now. You open your mouth to ask him when he beats you to it, “Things won’t be the same.”

Your mouth hangs open and you wait as he continues speaking, “It might get better, it might get worse. Honestly? It doesn’t matter. We can’t really afford to be optimistic with a life like ours.” He lets out a humorless laugh. Looking at you, he gives you a gentle smile and leans forward to kiss your forehead. He lingers there for a quiet moment as the rain serenades you both.

“We’ll get through this.” 

You love him so much. Looking at his beautiful, weary face, you smile and leave a chaste kiss on his lips. Stealing another kiss, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, “I love you, y’know that?” 

Smiling, you stand and give him your hand, “Yeah, I love you too.”

He holds your hand and stops you on your way down the stairs, “Hey…I'm sorry for being selfish. I know you’re hurting too. I don’t want you to think I don't notice that.”

Turning back to look at him, you caress his knuckles with your thumb, “It's okay, Satoru-”

“No, it's not.” He stands on the upper step, looking down at you with tender eyes, "D'you have another nightmare? Is that why you woke up?" He traces the dark circles under your eyes and keeps his thumb on the apple of your cheek.

You sigh and close your eyes momentarily, "Yeah..."

"You wanna talk about it?"

Your free fingers wrap around his slender wrist as you look up at his glittering, blue eyes. "Maybe later." He nods.

You both walk down the steps, your hand warm in his. By now the rain had slowed down to a soft patter. He notices the umbrella tied on the backseat of your motorcycle and quirks an eyebrow, “Why’d you bring this?”

You offer a sheepish smile and take out your keys from your pocket, “I- uh, figured you might need it. I thought you’d deactivate your Infinity and sit in the rain or something… So y’know I didn’t want you to waste all your energy covering us both from the rain but I guess that’s exactly what you did so it was pretty usele-”

Your rambling was immediately shut down by the press of his lips against yours. You feel him smile into the kiss and your heart feels so warm. I love him so much. Hugging you, he rests his chin on your head, “Thank you.” 

You think it’s ironic how you’re shivering from the cold yet feeling so incredibly warm at the same time. He chuckles and unties the umbrella taking a seat on the backseat of your bike, “Let’s go home, yeah?”  

a/n: well, after chapter 236 this sure is a knife to the heart.

taglist: @thepup356, @porridgesblog, @stray-npc, @daisy-the-quake, @reignsaway, @ainetx, @icarusignite, @mariapierce789, @laylasbunbunny, @r0ckst4rjk

[iovebarca]

La Roja - Fermín Lopez

Authors note: why do schools feel the need to give sm work when the weather is nice

WC: 700+

warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, fluff.

send me requestsss 🫶🫶

You sit on the edge of the sofa, phone clutched tightly in your hand, eyes flicking from the muted television to the closed door of your shared apartment. Your heart races with a mixture of anticipation and hope. Fermín, your boyfriend, has been waiting for this moment his entire life, and you’ve been waiting right alongside him.

The past weeks have been a whirlwind of tension and excitement. Every time the phone rang, both of you would jump, hoping it was the call from de la Fuente himself. You’ve seen Fermín play his heart out on the field, every match an audition, every goal and assist a plea to be noticed.

Today, though, feels different. There’s a buzz in the air, a kind of electricity that makes the hairs on your arms stand up. Fermín left for training this morning with a determined look in his eyes, more focused than usual, if that’s even possible.

As you glance at the clock, you realize he’s due back any minute now. You stand, unable to sit still, pacing the room. The TV, still on mute, shows highlights from last night’s games. You spot Fermín in one of the clips, effortlessly dodging defenders and setting up the winning goal. A smile spreads across your face, pride swelling in your chest.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock snaps you back to the present. The door swings open, and there he is—Fermín, your Fermín. His usually confident stride is hesitant, and his expression unreadable. Your heart skips a beat as he steps inside.

“Hey,” you say softly, trying to gauge his mood. He looks up at you, and for a moment, you can’t read his eyes.

Then, slowly, a smile breaks across his face, growing wider until he’s grinning from ear to ear. “I got the call,” he says, voice trembling with excitement and disbelief.

You let out a scream of joy, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you, laughing, spinning you around in a jubilant dance. “You did it! You really did it!”

“I can’t believe it,” he murmurs into your hair, holding you close. “I’m going to play for Spain.”

You pull back to look at him, tears of happiness in your eyes. “I knew you would. I’ve always known.”

The two of you collapse onto the sofa, still holding each other tightly. He tells you about the call, about how the coach praised his performance and dedication. You listen, hanging on every word, your heart soaring with pride.

As Fermín talks, your mind drifts back to when you first saw him play. He was just a teenager then, full of raw talent and unrefined skill. You remember the muddy fields and cold mornings, the way he would practice for hours, driven by a dream. You stood by him, cheering at every match, nursing his bruises, and celebrating his victories. Each step he took, you were there, his biggest fan and unwavering support.

“We should celebrate,” you say, jumping up. You decide to cook his favorite meal, filling the apartment with the rich, comforting scents of home-cooked food. Fermín calls his parents, his voice animated as he shares the news. Later, you both head out to your favorite spot in the city, a little ice cream parlour with a view of the sea, to toast to his success under the starlit sky.

The conversation naturally drifts to what comes next. The training camps, the matches, the possibility of playing in the Eurocopa. You discuss the logistics, the travel, and the new routines you’ll both need to adapt to. There’s excitement in the uncertainty, a sense of adventure in the new chapter unfolding before you. Fermín squeezes your hand, promising that no matter how busy things get, you’ll always come first.

Back at home, you give him a small, wrapped box. Inside is a bracelet with a simple charm—a small football and a heart intertwined. “For luck,” you say, fastening it around his wrist. He pulls you close, his eyes soft with gratitude. “I couldn’t have done this without you,” he whispers, and you know he means it.

As the evening fades into night, you talk about the future, your dreams intertwined. Through it all, Fermín keeps one arm around you, as if he can’t bear to let you go.

[vanillanaps]

It Starts With A Text | Rafe Cameron

Summary - Back from college for the weekend and you get a message from your on again off again fling, none other than Rafe Cameron.

A/n - This is my first Rafe fic and Tbh i have idea where i was going with this, but it came to me in my nightly scenario to fall asleep lmao. This is my first time writing smut in forever so be nice pls, thamks. Not proof read :p

Category - Rafe Cameron x Carrera!Reader

Warnings - smut, Rafe is ooc, but still giving fuckboy vibes.

Word Count - 1.9k

♡♡♡♡

The music played softly throughout your room as you sat at your desk studying. You’re back home, in Outer Banks for the weekend. Finals week is rapidly approaching and you thought coming home to study in the privacy of your own room would help, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Not when you were receiving texts from your sister and her friends every hour, trying to get you to come out with them since you came in Thursday night. It was so bad you had to mute the group chat they created, but that only worked to a certain extent when you lived with one.

A knock echoes through your room, a knock created by you and Kie when the two of you were younger, just to let one another know who it was.

“Yes, Kie?” A small smile appears on your face hearing your door open, knowing exactly what she was about to ask you.

“Are you sureeee you don’t wanna come with us?” Kie questioned hopefully as she hung halfway through your door, “Tonight’s Kegger is supposed to be crazy.”

You snorted at the thought, Outer Banks keggers were nothing compared to the ones you had been to in school, “Nope, I have to get this studying done.”

She groaned coming all the way inside, plopping down on your head, “You’ve been studying since you got here, and the guys haven’t seen you in forever!”

Turning around in your chair, you adored the sight of your little sister laying in your bed with a pout on her face, “I know Kie, but this is important. I promise after finals and I come back home for the summer, I will go to all the keggers you want me to.”

Kie sat up slightly, squinting her eyes, “You swear?”

“Yes, Kiara, I swear.” You chuckled at her face lighting up before she jumped up from your bed.

“Perfect!” She came over to kiss your cheek before making her way out of your room, “Don’t wait up, we’re spending the night at the chateau afterward.”

“Be safe!” You shouted after her as she shut your door. Spinning back around, you huffed as you looked over all the paperwork scattered across your desk, “Back to it.”

♡♡♡♡

Hours had passed as you sat upside down on your bed, legs up against the wall, holding your thick psychology textbook over your head, praying that it didn’t slip out of your hand and fall onto your face. Truthfully, you were tired of reading and wishing that you went with Kie to that kegger, but you knew that in the end, it’d all be worth it.

Your phone pinging pulled your attention away from your book. Thinking it may have been Kie sending you pictures of her and the guys, you decided a small break wouldn’t hurt. But you were wrong, so wrong. The text wasn’t from your sister, in fact it was from none other than the Kook Prince himself.

Rafe (Don’t Answer): You up? 1:36am

You bit your lip, fingers hovering over the keyboard while you decided if you wanted to respond or not. There was a reason why you hadn’t told Rafe you were in town this weekend. One, you knew he’d do everything in his power to distract you from studying. Two, the last time you had seen each other it had ended in an argument that neither one of you had yet to apologize for. So, after typing out responses and deleting immediately, you ultimately decided not to respond, figuring it wasn’t worth it—That was until two more messages came through.

Rafe (Don’t Answer): I know you’re up, I saw you typing. 1:48am

Rafe (Don’t Answer): I’m outside 1:48am

“The fuck?” You mumbled to yourself, scrambling out of bed and to your window. Low and behold, Rafe’s Jeep was sitting in your driveway with him leaning against the front of it, looking directly at your window, “Shit, shit, shit.”

You continued to curse under your breath as you put on a hoodie and threw on your closest pair of slides before you quietly made your way down the stairs and out the front door, and down the driveway til you came face to face with Rafe, “You can’t be here, Rafe.”

The little smirk on his face told you everything you needed to know. He had got you exactly where he wanted to, outside and in his trap. You fell for it every single time, “I didn’t know you were in town this weekend.”

“I know.” You shrugged, purposely being dry. You thought if you showed no interest in his games, he’d leave but unfortunately for you, Rafe knew you like the back of his hands. He pushed up from the hood of his Jeep, turning his hat backwards as he walked over to the passenger side to open the door, nodding for you to get in, “No Rafe, I came home to study this weekend, not anything else.”

“I just wanna talk, Y/n.” He pleaded, putting his hands up, “I swear, no funny business.”

Before your brain could even tell your legs no, they started moving towards him. Rolling your eyes as that smirk appeared back on his face while you slipped into his car, “Stop looking at me like that and get in before I change my mind.”

“Yes ma’am,” Rafe obeyed your orders, closing the door and making his way to the driver's side, getting in besides you, “How’s college?”

“Really? Small talk?” You scoffed. You knew what he really wanted to ask, but of course that would cause him to reveal any real feelings he had towards you, “I haven’t been with anyone else, Rafe. You know that.”

He nodded, gathering his words, his thoughts, choosing them carefully before the two of you ended up arguing like last time, “I’m sorry. For last time—for what I said.” His eyes looked over you, watching you nod to accept his apology.

“Is that all you came to say? You could’ve texted that.” You said, reverting your eyes from your hands to out the window.

“Yeah well, I wanted to see you.” He shrugged, “Is that a crime?”

“It is if you came here after partying with a bunch of girls at the Kegger.”

Rafe chuckled, knowing that tone in your voice, “I was at the Kegger—but I left as soon as I knew you were in town.” He tried waiting patiently for you to look over at him on your own, but he was growing impatient knowing you were doing it on purpose. So, he reached over, grabbing your chin to turn your face towards his, looking into your eyes, “Those other girls aren’t you..”

Your cheeks flooded with heat. You hated the way Rafe could make you blush. All it took was a look and a few words before you were melting back into his arms, no matter how hard you fought. When it came to Rafe Cameron, there was no holding out.

His eyes flicked between yours and your lips as he slowly started leaning in, “Rafe..” You called softly, closing your eyes as you tried your hardest not to give in.

He stopped, lips inches from yours, “Tell me to stop—Tell me to stop, I’ll leave and never bother you again.”

Your brain yelled at you to tell him to stop, to get out of the car and run back inside where it was safe away from this devil of a man,—but your heart? Your heart failed you.

“Fuck it.” You mumbled, crashing your lips into his. Rafe immediately responded, kissing you back with the most passion you had ever gotten from him, or any other man at that fact.

The kiss grew heated as you were halfway across the center console and Rafe’s hands were grabbing onto any body part of yours in his reach, “Come here,” He mumbled against your lips, pulling you over the console and into his lap. Without breaking the kiss, he reached down, letting his seat slide all the way back giving you as much space as the car would allow.

Moans echoed in the car as the two of you grind against each other. Rafe’s hands slid down your sides and up your hoodie, gripping at the bare skin beneath it. One hand slid across your back and the other inched slowly inside your shorts. He was testing his limits, and when you didn’t stop him, he took his shot. His hand plunged into your shorts, only stopping when it reached its destination, pushing his fingers through your folds, feeling your wetness.

“Rafe,” You moaned into his mouth, pushing back against his hand, letting his fingers rub your clit. His eyes were low and hungry. He bit his lip watching you throw your head back as he rubbed into slow, teasing circles. It only lasted a moment before you grabbed his hand, “I need you, I need you right now.”

“Take these off, now.” He ordered, tugging at your shorts. You lifted up as high as you could, helping him pull them down your leg before you kicked them off, landing back in his lap. Your hands immediately started working on his belt, fumbling with it, finally getting it off, along with unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. The both of you lifted up once more, Rafe shoving his pants and boxers down as much as he could. Your pussy throbbed at the sight of dick, hard, red and leaking, “Come here, baby.”

Settling back into his lap, you reach down grabbing the base of his cock. A deep groan fell from Rafe’s lips as he watched you place yourself at the tip of his dick before sliding down on him.

“Fuuuuck,” You both moaned. Foreheads touching as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close til you were chest to chest, “I fucking love this pussy,” He groaned, starting to fuck into you.

When it came to fucking Rafe, you could never think a single thought, let alone form a sentence. The only thing that left your mouth were moans and Rafe’s names as he took your poor pussy to town. You knew this was due to the previous argument, this was a make-up fuck and truthfully, they were your favorite.

“Yes, yes, yes, right there!” You cried, burying your face into his neck. A poor attempt at trying to muffle your moans, but that wouldn’t matter. Not with the way his car was bouncing up and down, squeaking here and there. If your parents were to wake up and look out their windows, you’d be screwed.

Nearly jumping out his lap, you gasped when his fingers touched your clit. His arm tightened around your waist, keeping you where he wanted you, “Don’t run baby, you can take it.” He panted into your ear, fucking you endlessly and attacking your clit all at the same time.

You were so close, that familiar knot forming just at the pit of your stomach, hips starting to buck on their own as you gripped the seat, “Rafe, pleasee.”

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over me,” Rafe muttered, nudging your head so you’d lift your face to his. Immediately, he slammed his lips into yours as he picked up his pace, fucking you until he absolutely couldnt anymore. You tried your best to kiss back, but it wasn’t long before your head flew back, body tensing and your walls squeezing Rafe as you finally reached your peak and fell from it, “Fuuuck, just like that.” Rafe’s groans quickly turned into moans as he came with you, pumping you full of his cum, making sure it was buried deep within your walls.

Goddamnit, you were screwed.

[babydollmarauders]

SPEAK NOW — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

part of the Speak Now Fic List

summary: in which y/n attends her ex-boyfriend, Quinn’s wedding and can’t hold her peace

notes: barely any dialogue. like i’m so serious, very little dialogue. also not proofread and i think i hate this but it’s fine because i don’t think i could do any better and i worked way too long on this.

it was the last thing i expected.

to receive the elegant white cardstock that sits in my hand. flowers of muted colors are printed across the bottom, cursive lettering across the top.

‘You Are Formally Invited to the Wedding of Quinn Hughes & Lindsay Carter’

it’s not that i didn’t think this day would come. quite on the contrary, i feared it would come sooner. i know firsthand how special Quinn is. i knew some lucky girl would lock him down. Quinn is the type of love that you never let go.

but i did.

i made the mistake of letting go of his love.

letting go of him.

and now i’ll be forced to watch as he marries another girl. one who provided comfort and a shoulder for him to cry on when i broke his heart. one who helped him glue the pieces back together after i left.

we had both known the risks. getting together despite the warnings of his brothers. and Jack was right.

“romance is not worth risking a lifelong friendship.”

because in the end, i lost both.

i lost the love of my life and my best friend since kindergarten.

now reduced to awkward tension at conjoined family events, and pity invites to major events like these. more awkward to invite me than it is to face me afterwards, knowing that i knew what was happening and was deliberately left out.

setting the invitation on the counter, i check yes on the guest list website on my phone. confirming that i’ll be in attendance.

despite the envy that weighs heavy in my heart, and the irrational feeling of betrayal that eats at me, i know i’ll feel worse missing this milestone in Quinn’s life.

**THREE MONTHS LATER**

i’ve had months to prepare for this moment. to guard my heart and get ready to watch the only man i’ve ever loved, get married to another woman.

and in spite of that, all i’ve done is the very thing i spent the last two years keeping myself from doing.

asking about Lindsay.

i never thought they would get this far. under the impression that this was a fling and wouldn’t last long. the only thing i knew for two years was that they were opposites.

Quinn is a responsible, down-to-earth guy, focusing on feelings and equality in relationships. whereas she was more materialistic; never attending Quinn’s games unless she was guaranteed a photo opportunity, using his card to buy luxury items, and according to Jack, constantly reminding Quinn how low he had felt before she came into his life.

and now, after asking around and learning everything i could, i can guarantee that Quinn doesn’t know half the things that i do.

i can guarantee he doesn’t know that she was a bully in high school, that that mean girl attitude never left. i can guarantee he doesn’t know that she brags to all her friends that she bagged a rich fiancé and she’ll never have to work to afford her luxury lifestyle, or that she has no issue in saying he isn’t attractive but his money makes up for it. and i know he doesn’t know she’s been sleeping with her personal trainer when Quinn is out of town.

and i know what i must do today, despite my nerves.

there’s still thirty minutes until the ceremony actually begins, and no matter how much i’ve steeled myself, i’ll never be ready to face the pity filled glances and the sympathetic words of Quinn and i’s families and friends. so, i wander the halls of the stuffy church, thinking about how unlike Quinn this all is.

perhaps he’s changed his mind since we had fantasizingly planned our own wedding. laid in bed, the golden sunrise lighting his face in a greek god-like way, speaking in hushed whispers, discussing our dream wedding. nothing like this one.

my feet pause on their own accord as yelling reaches my ears, and i identify the sound coming from an open door down the hall as Lindsay.

“are you stupid?” her voice drifts out of the room, carried by the empty space. “i told you to get nude heels, not cream!”

i make quick work to pass by the room, catching just a glimpse of the blonde bride, her fluffy white gown swallowing her.

heaving out a relieved sigh, i try to ignore the pounding in my chest, turning left down the hall and towards the main room. maybe it’s best for me to just get the pity and commiseration over with.

my heels click against the hardwood floor of the crowded room, and a hush falls over most of the right side. Quinn’s side.

scanning the room, i’m grateful to find Trevor and Cole. i know Quinn’s family is with him getting ready, but i at least have these two to bring me some comfort amongst the sea of strangers.

“y/n, you came!”

pop! the comfort bubble has broken. i thought i could trust Cole to treat me normally, but the gentle incredulous tone of his voice tells me otherwise. a mix of shock and sympathy.

“yeah, of course i did.” my lips quirk in a forced smile, shoving any resentment and nerves down deep inside me. “i wouldn’t miss Quinny’s big day.”

“y/n/n, you know you don’t have to act strong in front of us, right?” Trevor’s hand rubs my arm, providing the perfect grounding for me.

“yeah, no, i know that.” i nod. “but seriously, guys, i’m fine. i knew this day would come.”

“it’s not too late.” Cole jokes. “the priest does say that whole ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ thing, right?”

i let out a genuine chuckle at the deep and ominous tone he uses to imitate the priest; the first real laugh i’ve had all day. if only he knew.

i join Trevor and Cole in finding seats, sitting in the 4th row. not quite at the front, but also not quite the middle. i perch in the seat closest to the aisle, open for a quick getaway if needed.

the guys engage me in small talk, asking me about my job and frowning when i give the generic answer of ‘it’s okay.’

but i couldn’t tell them the truth, could i? that i hated it. that i regretted ever taking it. that it wasn’t the job that was bad, but rather that i was filled to the brim with resentment that it took me away from the man i love.

i knew i had brought it upon myself. i made myself this miserable. i chose this job over him. i got the internship and thought Quinn and i could withstand the distance while i was in Boston, but i was wrong. we didn’t make it more than two months before i was forced to watch our relationship crumble before me; knowing there was nothing i could do to fix us, i had to let him go.

i knew he would live on. i knew he would be able to put our relationship in the past. but i was only more disconsolate than ever. stuck in a mournful heartbreak. unable to move on and unwilling to try.

i’m shaken from my thoughts by Cole, who points out the mother of the bride walking down the aisle, signifying that the ceremony is getting underway.

i strain my back, twisting around in my seat. my eyes are drawn to the open double doors, where Quinn makes his entrance. his parents on either side of him.

my heart races in my chest, my nerves settling low within my stomach. he looks breath taking. but i can’t help noticing the lack of spark in his eyes. the once lively eyes that used to be so full of emotion, now seem empty.

my gaze tracks his movement, following as he walks down the aisle and to the altar, coming to a stop in front of the priest. his parents take their seats as he scans the room, seemingly searching, and when our eyes meet, he seems to stiffen. his back straightening and his jaw locking.

i can only hope my eyes convey everything i’m thinking.

i’m sorry.

please don’t do this.

his brothers are quick to follow down the aisle, decked out in navy blue suits, joining him at the altar as his groomsmen.

Jack’s lips quirk up in a smirk when he sees me, and he sends me a wink, but i can’t muster anything more than a simple straight lipped expression.

the next 20 minutes go by in a blur, a haze of bridesmaids and eventually Lindsay making her entrance.

“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men; and therefore - is not by any - to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly - but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly.”

the priest begins, and i’ve been to enough weddings to know what comes next. steeling my nerves, i take a deep breath in, letting it escape back past my lips with a silent whoosh.

“should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

a silence falls over the room, the priest looking out over the seated crowd.

my hands tremble by my sides, anxiety growing deep within me, but i know this is my last chance.

i rise to my feet, slowly and shakily. i can hear whispers start from the left side of the room, and i glance around to find everyone staring at me with horrified looks. everyone but Quinn’s immediate family and friends.

Jack and Luke share a glance before letting out relieved sighs; but i’m only focused on Quinn, who stares back at me with wide eyes and parted lips.

“go on.” the priest urges me, an annoyed expression painting his face.

Lindsay’s face turns red, hands balled into fists at her sides.

“don’t say ‘yes’.” i plead of Quinn.

“y/n-” he sighs, and my heart skips a beat in my chest, the well-known effect he has on me.

“you need to hear me out.” i beg. “Quinn, i’m sorry. i’m sorry i let us go, i’m sorry i didn’t fight harder for us, and i’m sorry i ever even took that stupid internship. but even if i’m too late to win you back, you deserve better than this.

“she’s been using you for your name and your money.” i continue, but Quinn squeezes his eyes shut in disbelief. whether he’s in disbelief of Lindsay or me, i can’t be sure. “and she’s been cheating on you.”

gasps sound out across the room and his eyes snap open wide again. his gaze flickers between me and his bride, who has now turned a pale white; all color draining from her face at my accusation.

“she’s lying! she just wants you to herself! she had her chance and she lost it and now she doesn’t want you happy.” Lindsay cries out.

“i have it on good authority that she’s been sleeping with her trainer when you’re out of town. you know i wouldn’t say anything if i weren’t completely sure. if i didn’t have proof.” i tell him “and you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who will be absolutely head over heels, purely, and loyally in love with you. and i’m not saying that i’m that person for you. this isn’t me begging for a second chance, even if i am still out of my mind in love with you. i just can’t stand idly by and watch you make a mistake. i can’t let you marry her without knowing the truth.”

i take a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. silence plagues the room, astonishment written all over the faces over every guest in attendance.

“okay, that’s all i wanted to say.” i purse my lips and nod, stepping out into the aisle. my heels click against the floor as i make my exit, not staying to see the outcome of my outburst.

***

i sit on my couch, staring at my hands fidgeting in my lap; my phone shut down entirely and sitting face down on the coffee table in front of me, not ready to face the consequences of my earlier actions.

a movie plays on my tv, but i pay no attention, only having put it on in attempt to escape my thoughts and avoid the quiet.

it’s been approximately twelve hours since i objected to my ex’s wedding. now midnight, and my anxiety has not lessened. i have no clue whether Quinn carried on with his marriage or if he took my words to hold the truth. too afraid to find out.

i’m broken out of my trance by a heavy knock sounding out on the door of my apartment, and i stand frantically. i expect that it’s Jack or one of the many other friends in attendance of the wedding this afternoon, but my heart rate picks up when i look through the peephole to find the very man i confessed my love to today.

my hand shakes as i unlock the door, opening it to reveal Quinn. he’s no longer in his tux, rather adorning sweatpants and a t-shirt, but he still looks handsome to me.

“Quinn.”

“i didn’t say my vows.” he rushes out.

“what?” i question, fearing i heard him wrong.

“i didn’t say my vows.” he repeats, pushing past me and into my entry hall. “she tried to deny what you told me, but i trust you. i held my ground, and she confessed everything. you were right.”

“Quinn, please.” i plead. “i’m happy that you’re not upset with me but i can’t-”

“i’m so glad you were there.” he cuts me off, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him. “were you telling the truth?”

“Quinn, you just said she confessed-” i push against his chest, tears gathering in my eyes.

“about being sorry. about still being in love with me. were you telling the truth?” he clarifies, his free hand coming up to hold both of mine in his clutch, and my arms go slack.

“yes.” the tension in the air is palpable, and i’m unsure whether it’s worrisome or comforting.

“say it again.” he breathes out, a subtle smile resting on his lips.

“i love you.” a lone tear spills over my waterline, rolling down my cheek. “i am absolutely and irrevocably in love with you.”

his lips crash upon mine in a bruising kiss, finally letting go of my hands in favor of resting his right one against my cheek. i stiffen against him, seizing up in his hold, and he pulls back. his eyes scan my face, his face etched in worry.

“did i do something wrong?” a hoarse whisper, our faces still millimeters apart.

my hands raise to cup the back of his neck, pulling his lips back down to mine. my eyes flutter shut,this time it’s slow and passionate; holding my heart on my sleeve as i pour my soul out to him in the form of a kiss.

he pulls away, pressing his forehead against mine, but my eyes remain shut. we’re both silent, nothing but the sound of our mingling breaths and the tv lowly drifting in from the other room.

“i love you too.”

[muldermuse]

Happy Valentine's (Gator Tillman X F!Reader)

Glenda plans a Valentine's evening for her and Gator. He has other plans.

Warnings: this is written from Glenda's POV at first so is more angsty than usual. as aforementioned, reader and gator are t e r r i b l e people. infidelity as always. i used the upsetting gift narrative from love actually (im so sorry). nsfw!!! mdni!!! no explicit smut written but heavily suggested at. unhappy ending- sorry my loves.

this is the song from the end 🫶

as always, part of the two sinners world ❤️

The table had been ready since 2pm, and finishing touches had been added all day but the table just began to look more cluttered with pink. Glenda had added homemade cupcakes and macaroons as well as a variety of photos of her and Gator. The usually drab and beige-colored dining room had been transformed into something from an awful teenage rom-com. Pink heart balloons floated up to the ceiling with hundreds of rose petals covering the stained wooden floor. Roy had gone out of town so Glenda had taken the full day to make the ranch a romantic paradise to celebrate the 14th February. This was the couple’s third Valentine’s Day and Glenda was sure that Gator was going to propose tonight, well, Roy had hinted as much. 

Glenda had dressed herself in her white newest cardigan with a muted pink dress underneath. She wore the perfume that Gator seemed to acknowledge more and spent more time than usual pushing her blonde hair from her face. She’d bought Gator a new wallet, his name precisely sewn in by luxurious thread and a bottle of his favourite whiskey with a crystal tumbler with his name engraved. Gator had no idea about the gifts but Glenda had a rough idea of what Gator had bought her. To Glenda, Gator was great at many things but discretion was not one of them. Maybe Gator wanted Glenda to know? She couldn’t look inside, it wouldn’t be very Christian of her but she could at least admire the bag. It was a boutique just outside of town, they sold bespoke jewellery as well as some lingerie but Glenda and her girlfriends always averted their eyes at that. Since seeing the bag, Glenda had spent nearly every day looking in the store, trying to figure out what her complex boyfriend might have got her. Maybe a necklace? Maybe some undergarments? Maybe her engagement ring had been in this very store?

She couldn’t wait for him to get home.

Glenda had no idea that you’d been texting Gator all day and he was planning on spending the full night with you.

***

The helium from the balloons seeped out without Glenda noticing. The non alcoholic sparkling wine, which was chilled, was now lukewarm. The Etta James record had stopped spinning, she’d restarted it after it played out every time but for the last two hours, she just listened to noise of the cattle outside. Gator’s phone was going straight to answer phone, he’d text her a few hours ago that he would be home soon. It was now just after 9. He finished work at 5. Where was he?

The sky above was black and looked starless. 

There was nothing shining down on her tonight. 

Every light outside was the brightest she’d ever seen. Did Gator’s patrol car have bright lights? How had she never noticed this? She’d called reception at the station and Amy had the same tone of voice as she usually did when Glenda routinely made this call.

“Has he not come home again?”

“I swear Glenda, he left right on time- no reports of any collisions so it should’ve been a smooth run”

“You need to have a chat with him Glenda, this isn’t fair- talk to his daddy. He’ll beat it outta him”

Glenda wasn’t sure if she had suspicions about Gator or not. She honestly wouldn’t allow herself to even consider it, he would never do anything. What would he even be doing? He could’ve been at the bar with an old school buddy or maybe he’s back at the shooting range. His job was so stressful, he needed chance to unwind and how could she deprive him of that?

***

Gator came round to you as soon as he finished work, you heard the tyres squeal as he braked with force from the speed of his patrol car racing down your suburban street. You’d been teasing him all day, sending lingerie pics from as early as 10 this morning.

[sent at 10:32] You: ok, so i think my boobs look amazing in this

[sent at 10:32] You: image attached

[sent at 10:33] You: but my ass looks unreal in this- right???

[sent at 10:33] You: image attached

[recieved at 10:35] Gator🐍💩: got a lonnnnnng fuckin day ahead- don’t do this

[sent at 11:04] You: ur my valentine right???? i bought this just for u :(

[sent at 11:05] You: image attached

[recieved at 11:56] Gator🐍💩: make sure the doors unlocked at 5. cya then. b good.

He tried to hide the smirk from his face as he text Glenda he’d be home late.

You’d chosen your new lingerie set for him, it was baby pink and had dark hearts sewn in. Your hair was half up half down and slightly curled with a pink bow firmly secured with pins. You looked amazing, you had to admit that it was some of your best work. You’d poured a big glass of whiskey for Gator and left it on the cabinet next to your bedroom door. He’d love that little touch.

The pink tapered candles fluttered and the miscellaneous sexy playlist hummed through the speakers. As soon as you heard Gator slam your front door, you’d arched your back so the first thing he saw when he entered would be your ‘please fuck me’ eyes and the second would be your ass positioned high in the air. You smirked in anticipation.

“Fuckin’ hell baby- tha’s a sight for sore eyes” Gator swallowed half the whiskey in one gulp. He hissed as the liquid slid down his parched throat.

“You like your present?” remaining in your arched position, you shook your ass at him and smiled hearing him groan in response

He slammed the glass down; now empty after one final sip. He sneered at you as his eyes followed yours, he loved you like this, so pretty and complaint. He gripped your hair in his fist and pulled you up to his face; you could smell the heat of the whiskey on his tongue. 

“Y’wanna know what I want for my present baby?” his grip tightened in your perfectly pruned hair, and your eyes rounded in response, prompting an answer.

“I want you to be a good girl f’me, all night long” his other hand clasped around your chin, tilting your lips up to his. The caliber of kiss was synonymous with Gator: it was rough, passionate, and filled with a desperate desire for control. His tongue slid against yours and you could now taste the spice of the whiskey on his tongue, along with the artificial taste of whatever disgusting vape he’d been sucking all day. Spit trailed between your lips as you pulled away.

“M’gonna be good, Sir- all night, I promise” 

He mumbled a final "good girl" against your lips, kissed you quick, and pushed you back against your cream coloured linen. His ravenous eyes never left yours as he pulled his belt out of its loops, “s’gonna be a long night for you, baby”

***

You must have dozed off on his chest, you awoke to the feeling of his heart pumping and the sound of him taking a drag on some god awful vape. God, he irritated you so much. Your throat felt sore, presumably a mix of Gator’s strong hand wrapped around it and how much of the evening you’d spent crying out his name in pleasure. He smelt of sex- the whole room did. The bedsheets long forgotten as they kept getting in the way of the two of you trying to fuck each other as hard as you could. The playlist had moved onto something more romantic and you were too exhausted to feel uncomfortable. It was Norah Jones- Come away with me.

‘While I’m safe there in your arms’

Gator was too content to leave, he was vaping to try to stop himself from falling asleep in the cozy comfort of your room. He’d cum across your face and your tits, he could feel it drying against his side as you fell into a brief sleep. He knew you were awake now, your breathing had become slightly more laboured. Gator knew you were building up the courage to ask him to leave. You never liked it when it got like this. It was so easy when he was fucking you, when he had your ponytail wrapped around his hand and was using it as leverage to fuck you with everything he had- that was what you enjoyed the most. But, this is what he enjoyed the most.

He had to tell you about what he’d bought you.

‘So all I ask is for you’

The bag alone was beautiful, it was from the boutique outside of town. You’d never even considered going inside, it always looked too expensive and you didn’t like to be surrounded by pretty, delicate things. 

Too scared of them shattering.

Too scared of breaking something beyond repair.

‘To come away with me in the night’

It was a necklace. And god, it was gorgeous. It was a simple silver pendant with small diamonds embedded and the heart in the middle was solid silver. Even in the dim light of your bedroom; its beauty radiated. You’d had gifts from guys before but nothing ever, ever like this. You swallowed the lump in your throat. This wasn’t right.

Fuck, this was a mistake.

Gator’s voice broke the crippling silence.

“As soon as I saw it, it reminded me of you” he placed a soft kiss against your temple “s’beautiful like you”. His voice was gentle and tender. 

It was too much.

You had to shatter it.

‘Come away with me’

“Give this to Glenda- I, uh, I don’t want it” you felt too vulnerable; you couldn’t look at him. “M’not your girlfriend Gator, give it to her”.

You placed the necklace in the palm of his hand with care, already feeling immense guilt and regret but you couldn’t go back. 

Gator got dressed whilst you sat in your en-suite bathroom, pretending not to care about him. You did, of course. You cared too much. After Gator drove away, you re-entered the bedroom, the music had stopped and the candles had burned out into unlit nubs. You didn’t bother to remake your bed, you just crawled into the warm spot Gator had left and tried not to lament.

***

Glenda loved the necklace that much that the thoughts of the abandoned Valentine’s Day dinner dissipated from her mind. Gator was the kind man she always knew he was and this beautiful gift had confirmed it. 

Gator climbed into bed and immediately turned away from Glenda. He couldn’t look at her. The necklace wasn’t for her. 

She was wearing your necklace.

You should have been wearing his heart.

[toomuchracket]

late night talking (sweetheart!george x reader smut)

calling it smut is lowkey misleading, but it's definitely extremely very sexy. day 7 of summer75, set in the weird tentative dating era after you and george reunite. enjoy <3

you're in bed when your phone buzzes beside you, cocooned in blankets while watching a third consecutive episode of drag race; when you see the caller ID, you extract your arms as fast as you can, one hand scrambling to mute snatch game while you answer the call with the other, smile surely audible. “hi, george.”

“hi, angel,” comes the reply, the always-devastating combo of gravel voice and pet name awakening the butterflies in your stomach. fuck, you've missed him. “how was work?”

“was okay. busy.”

“you're settling in alright, though, yeah? nobody giving you grief?”

“yeah, everyone’s nice. how was your day?”

“busy, too. really busy, actually,” george sighs. “still found time to miss you, though.”

you smile. “i missed you too, babe.”

“missed you calling me that and all,” he giggles after he speaks, the same stupidly high laugh that's always made your heart feel funny. “sorry for how uncool i'm being, by the way. i know we said we'd be cool about everything, about us, but…”

“s'alright. i get it,” you reply, not unkindly, because you do get it, you understand completely. choosing not to rush back into a relationship seemed like the sensible thing for you and george to do after four years and a few countries apart, but it's proving to be much more difficult in practice; he is your first (and honestly only) love, after all, and you never could resist that voice. or those eyes. or those lips, actually - the first time you kissed him again recently (just a normal smooch, mind you), you almost swooned. like, actually swooned, proper virgin behaviour. “feel like a teenager all over again with you, to be honest.”

“so do i, baby - can i call you that, or-?”

jesus. you hope you don't sound too breathlessly desperate. “of course.”

“thanks, baby,” the grin on george's face is obvious, and yours widens even more as you wriggle further out of your blanket cocoon and roll onto your stomach. “but yeah, i genuinely do feel like i'm seventeen again…”

“good film, that.”

“knew that was coming as soon as i said it,” he sighs down the phone, before joining in with your giggling. “genuinely, though, angel - feel like it's still 2007, because all i can think about is kissing you. m'serious. can't get anything done.”

you kick your legs back and forth, overjoyed to hear him admit he feels the same as you. still, you don't miss the opportunity to take the piss out of him. “jesus, it's the new gucci perfume fiasco all over again.”

“christ, don't remind me of that,” george groans, voice slightly muffled by what you know is him facepalming, dragging his hand down his face slowly; he's a creature of habit, your… well, your george. “thought i’d died and gone to heaven when i got a whiff of it the day we ran into each other in the shop, when we first saw each other again.”

“shut up.”

“m'not kidding, baby. driven me mental since day one, that perfume.”

you rest your head on your folded arms, wistful. “i remember. you walking into the art classroom door because you were that distracted trying to lean over and smell me? how could i forget?”

“yeah, well, it had its benefits too, that day,” george retorts. “if i recall correctly, it motivated me to get all my homework done quickly so i could kiss you, no?”

“that's true,” you allow yourself to briefly get lost in the memory, so strong you swear you can feel the shitty bic pen in your hand now. the flashback progresses to a scene you almost wore out repeating at the time, the workbooks and pencilcases shoved off the bed, and school uniforms following as you and george took advantage of having his house to yourself that monday afternoon. despite not having even discussed doing that with george in the modern version of your relationship yet, the mention of that after-school activity leaves your lips before you realise. “and if i recall correctly, we did a lot more than kiss that night.”

there's silence from the other end of the phone line. a very particular, pregnant type of silence, one that you intuitively know will end with something pivotal to you and george's relationship; despite this make or break moment, you keep quiet, not wanting to make it worse by fumbling an apology or explanation, even though you've got a growing sense of creeping dread that you might've just fucked the whole dynamic up beyond repair already.

and then he speaks, and you can exhale again. “i think about that a lot, you know.”

the atmosphere shifts again - it's still one of anticipation, but of the more… sensual variety, you'd say. heart pounding against your sternum, you wriggle out of the blankets completely, clicking the tv off so you can give george your complete, undivided attention. “yeah?”

“yeah. that night, and my eighteenth, and your eighteenth. prom, and all our holidays, and christening your uni flat,” george hums, giggling after he's done listing. “just any time we fucked, really.”

“you miss it?”

he sighs. “a lot.”

“so do i,” you say softly. “i really miss… no,” you close your mouth, shaking your head. “i can't say it. not yet. s'inappropriate.”

“baby,” there's a hint of forcefulness in george's voice, and it goes straight to your already-slick core. “tell me, please. wanna hear you.”

fuck. you really have missed him.

you sigh. “you're sure you wanna do this?”

“angel, i've never been more sure of anything,” george replies, and you know he means it. “talk to me.”

“alright,” you can't help smiling, both at george and the memory. “was gonna say that i really miss the way you would hold me after we both came, you know? you'd just wrap your whole body around me and kiss my neck, and i'd just feel, y'know, so safe, and happy,” you pause, then grin. “i mean, i miss the actual sex too, of course, but…”

he laughs, and your heart flutters. “i miss that too, the post-shag hugging. you're cute, y'know, baby - thought you were about to say something filthy, honestly.”

you twirl a strand of hair around your finger, flirty. “well, if you want me to be dirty, g, i can. can be whatever you want me to be.”

george groans. “don't fuck me about, angel.”

“m'not!” you decide to be proper serious for a second. “i just want to make you feel good, george. i miss doing that. i miss you,” you bite your lip, releasing it slowly in a poor imitation of the man at the other end of the phone line. “and i want you. i really, really want you.”

another brief silence, then he replies. “how do you want me?”

you smirk. “you tell me. like i said, sweetheart, whatever - and however - you want me to be… i'll do it.”

“well, in that case,” god, his voice. “i want you to come over. right now. how does that sound?”

“perfect,” you aren't lying. “is there anything else you want me to do?”

“be my girlfriend again, but we can discuss that when you get here, yeah?”

you beam, kicking your legs excitedly. finally. “yeah. alright,” you roll out of bed and make a beeline for your lingerie collection. “i'll be over as soon as i get changed, babe.”

“please be quick,” george sighs. “oh, a final thing, baby?”

“yeah?”

the smirk on his face is crystal clear. “bring a vibrator.”

[loveandmurders]

The Sun of Ambrose IV (Lost Sinclair!daughter AU)

Hi everyone, this is fourth part my Sinclair!daughter AU in which the reader is Bo's daughter and she has been taken away and adopted by a new family. You can find part I here.

Hope you'll enjoy! <3

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of a suicide, violence, killer!reader, mentions of pain and intense grief, of panic and despair, angst and more angst

You kept the promise you made to Bo. 

Without your parents knowing, you decided to come back to Ambrose. You waited for the next school break and you paid some friends for them to pretend you were going on holidays with them. Being mute was a new advantage for you, because your parents couldn’t ask your friends to speak with you on the phone. Plus, you stopped talking about the Sinclairs so they were certain you were finally at peace with your past.

You didn’t have Bo’s phone number so you couldn’t warn him you were coming back. You hoped he would be happy to see you.

You said goodbye to your adoptive parents and took a bus, and then another bus until you arrived near Ambrose. You found some people who agreed to drive you to Lester’s town and soon enough you found yourself walking on the dusty roads of the region. 

Luck was on your side this time as Lester found you.

“Y/N!” he yelled in pure joy as he stopped his truck and got out of it. He hugged you very tightly before checking on you to make sure you were alright. He gave you some water before asking you what you were doing here and where your parents were.

“They don’t know I’m here. I told them I was going on holiday with friends. I wanted to come back home without them… I wanted to talk with all of you without them around because they are scared of you” you explained and Lester hummed 

“And you, darl’?” he asked

“And me?”

“Ain’t ya afraid of us? After what your mom said and… did” he added and you shook your head without thinking about it “Ya sure ‘bout it?”

“None of you ever hurt me and… I’ve always wanted to come back home. It is true that I don’t fully understand why she did what she did, but I need to give Bo a chance” you replied

“Bo?” Lester laughed and you arched an eyebrow “He won’t be happy if you call him by his name. Ya betta call him ‘father’ ya know” Lester warned you

“The thing is… he isn’t my father anymore” you replied. Lester gave you a sad smile

“Don’t let him know such things, ‘kay? Or he’ll lose it.” Lester asked you as Ambrose was coming into view. You nodded in agreement. You needed to be careful.

Lester parked in front of Bo’s garage. Bo got out from under a car when he heard Lester’s truck. His eyes instantly lit up when he saw you. He wiped his hands on a cloth before coming to open your door and hugging you even more tightly than Lester did a few instants ago.

“Watcha doin’ here?” he asked with a bright smile, gently cupping your face

“Wanted to spend time with you… without my adoptive parents in the way” you replied

“They ain’t knowin’ ya’re here then?” he asked and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders when you shook your head “Let’s get home then. We’ve got so much to talk ‘bout” he hummed as he guided you towards the house

“Weren’t you working?” you wondered, you didn’t want to bother your father

“Work can wait. Vinny’ll love to show ya ‘round the House of Wax too” Bo said, so excited. Lester trailed off behind the two of you. He was certain it was going to be a very nice day.

And he was right about it.

You quickly felt very at ease with your biological family. You could tell they wanted you back and you teared up when you saw that they hadn’t touched your bedroom since you left. They helped you settle in. Lester went to buy you your favourite food, Bo chatted with you until it was time to prepare dinner and Vincent showed you some sculptures he was doing. You even started a project together.

You ate in a relaxed atmosphere. But you needed to know:

“I don’t remember much of my life here when I was a child. But I remembered very well the House of Wax and I also remembered about the ‘tourists’ because you never let me out of the house when people were coming in here. But I never saw them leaving Ambrose and there were often gunshots and screams. I couldn’t understand before but mother accused you all of being killers and… Well I’m wondering about it now” you signed. The twins exchanged a look

“Ya feel in danger with us?” Bo asked you. You gave him an unimpressed look as it was obvious he was trying to get the conversation to his advantage

“That’s not the subject. Are you killers?” you asked more bluntly this time

Bo didn’t have time to find the right answer as you all heard a car coming. The engine clearly had known better day and stopped in the middle of Ambrose. The twins quickly got up to take care of the situation.

“Lester, bring Y/N to your place while we take care of this” Bo ordered and your uncle quickly nodded and helped you to your feet.

You felt particularly annoyed at the situation but you followed Lester back to his truck. 

“Sorry, ‘bout that darl’, but business can be a little tough here sometimes, especially at night” your uncle tried to smile at you.

“I need you to bring me to the bus stop. If you don’t want to tell me the truth, I have got no reason to stay here or to want to talk with you. I asked a simple question, I wanted to understand. But if you prefer to lie to me, I don’t want this. I’m not even a Sinclair anyways” you grumpily replied.

Lester tried to convince you to stay at his place but you refused, so he brought you where you asked him to. He also gave you his phone number, as well as Bo’s and Vincent’s. He asked you for your number in exchange.

“I know ya’re upset with us, but stay in touch, darl’. We’ve missed ya, and we’ll do betta. I promise” he told you and finally agreed.

After this, the twins spent a lot of time trying to coax you into forgiving them and forgetting about the discussion. 

Bo wished you a good morning everyday and often checked on you throughout the day. Vincent as well. Lester was sending pictures of the road kills or of flowers, insects and rocks he enjoyed. 

You were happy. You sculpted a lot more and often sent pictures of your creations to Vincent so he could tell you how to improve. He was really proud of you and found you very skilled for your age. He was really excited about it, even if the twins hadn’t decided yet how to let you know about the killings. You seemed so sweet and innocent… They didn’t want to drive you away. They didn’t want you to understand why your mother killed herself.

But at the same time, you were refusing to come back to Ambrose without them telling you the truth. How could you be a Sinclair if they didn’t share everything with you? You couldn’t tell them you were a killer too then.

Things changed again when your mother discovered you were talking to the Sinclairs. If you had been smart enough to change their names, when she stumbled into one of the notifications, she understood it was Bo Sinclair messaging you. She was terrified for you, she was terrified of what these men could do to you. She needed to do something to protect you, she needed to make sure you wouldn’t end like your biological mother.

She was ready to call the cops and to let them know where the Sinclairs were. She was certain the police would find terrible things in Ambrose because the town was so strange and quiet. You managed to convince her to wait for the next day to do something about it: “it’s late mom, you can’t call the cops now. You need to wait until tomorrow morning at least…” you said and she agreed but only if you gave her your phone. You reluctantly obeyed, knowing the Sinclairs would be very distraught to not have news from you anymore.

More importantly, you needed to find a plan so your mother wouldn’t call the police on your family. You got mute to protect them, and you felt the same kind of panic you had when you were a child being interrogated by adults. You couldn’t really think straight, you could just act on instinct.

So you did something terrible. You took several different sorts of medicine and put it into your mother tea she always took before bed. You weren’t too sure what it would do to her, but you hoped it would make her sick enough for her to forget about the Sinclairs.

It did make her sick. So sick, she couldn’t leave her bed the next day. As you helped take care of her, you felt awfully guilty. It was your fault she was in such a bad state. However, what could you have done? You needed to protect the Sinclairs like you always did. Otherwise you would never live in Ambrose again, and you would die from the inside. You loved your mother and you were so grateful for the way she took care of you and cherished you… But deep inside, you were a Sinclair.

You thought that it was going to be okay, but when she started to feel better, she asked her husband to call the cops. You were forced to poison her again so all the attention would be back on her. How could your dad call the police when his wife needed to be looked after so badly? It was a vicious circle: whenever she was feeling alright, she wanted to protect you and to prevent her from doing it, you had to hurt her again and again. To appease her, you were barely speaking to Bo and your uncles anymore, just letting them know you were alright but that you needed to be with your mother, because she was very ill.

The doctors couldn’t find what was going wrong and her health only got worse and worse. You knew you were going to kill her if you didn’t stop the poisoning… But what could you do then? She would destroy the future you wanted, the future you needed for you to be whole again.

The irony wasn’t lost on you though: you were fully aware that you lost your biological mother because of your father, and you were now picking him over your adoptive mother. It hit you when you realised you were indeed choosing Bo. You gave her one last time the poison and she had to be taken to the hospital.

She died two days after.

And you cried so much with your dad. You felt shattered, because you loved her but you had to do it. No one could understand your pain full of guilt and duty. You simply sent a message to Bo “Mom is dead” and then you didn’t reply to him for days, which drove him ill with worry and despair. 

You wondered if you shouldn’t kill yourself but then her death would be in vain, and it would make things even worse.

Your adoptive father was an absolute mess. He forgot how to take care of himself and of you. He couldn’t get up in the morning. The pain broke him in a way he never felt before. You couldn’t stand to see him like that, because you knew it was all your fault. You were really a Sinclair, you couldn’t touch something without breaking it. And more terribly, you could only truly cherish your own blood. You tried to be there for him but he couldn’t stand to see you for a while; having a child with his wife had always been his strongest desire, but now it was only reminding him of her absence.

You were 18 and you were going to go to college after the summer break. Your father told you you were a big girl, and he needed some alone time. He gave you money and asked you to leave for the summer. You hugged him and left, already knowing your path was going to lead you to Ambrose.

When you arrived, Bo and Lester were out of town. Vincent greeted you with a bear hug and quickly started to take care of you. He made food for you and removed enough of his mask to kiss your cheek. You remembered his scarred face then, but you didn’t feel disgust. It was normal. He asked you a lot of questions and it felt nice to talk to him about what you felt. You didn’t tell him you were the one who killed your mother; you still felt a lot better. Bo came back home, and like the last time he saw you, his whole demeanour brightened up. He kissed your cheek and hugged you for a long time, until he felt you were completely relaxed against him. He sat you back down and knelt in front of you.

“Does anyone know ya’re here?” he asked

“No. My dad asked me to go away for a little while. He isn’t doing well now that mom is dead. He needed some alone time. He gave me some money though” you explained and you saw anger moving through Bo’s eyes

“He ain’t your dad, love. I am. He’d be takin’ care of ya if he really was lovin’ ya, don’t ya think?” he hummed with venom lacing his voice

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you” you signed before looking away, so Bo grabbed your chin to make you look back at him. He gently smiled at you

“It’s just that I’m your father, and ya’re home.” he smoothly told you and you nodded, which appeased him “Tell me, love, what happened for ya to stop talkin’, we’re all quite missin’ the sound of your voice?” Bo hummed and Vincent gave him a little disapproving sound.

“You made me promise to never talk about Ambrose to strangers” you shrugged and the twins hugged you with fierce love after such words.

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PART V

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