#Take the issue on head on like he likes to
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TRAINING SEASON
18+ / mdi
summary: unfortunately for vernon, all his friends were gym bros, leading to constant harassment for him to join the lifestyle. after weeks of twelve men constantly bugging at him to accompany them, all it takes is one girl for vernon to finally give in.
content: strangers2friends2lovers!vernon, fitness!reader, vernon's kind of a loser here, reader is friends with the other 12, vernon's not into fitness, downbad!vernon, reader is implied to be into fitness but her body's not really described in any specific way, afab reader, smut, semi-public sex, handjob, kind of sub!vernon, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 9.3k
a/n: not really sure why i keep writing vernon like a loser with no game lol im sure in real life he's got a ton of game lets just pretend he doesnt<3
masterlist
"C'mon, Nonnie. Come with us. Just this once."
"You don't even have to work out, we just want-"
"No, if I have to work out, he has to work out. You guys have been dragging me with you to engage in your masochist tendencies for weeks. He deserves the same treatment."
Vernon simply groaned at all the noise, uncaring of what Seungkwan, Mingyu and Jeonghan were saying, respectively. Instead, he opted to cover his face with a pillow, attempting to muffle all the noise his friends were making so early in the morning.
Then suddenly, the comfort of his blanket left him, followed by his pillow being pulled from his hold and used to deliver a swift smack against his head before being whisked away and landing on the opposite side of the room.
One more, he groaned, but this time louder. His eyes opened to find the culprit standing above him, squinting due to the sudden surge of sunlight into his vision at having opened his eyes.
"Dude, stop being a lazy piece of shit and come with us," nagged Joshua.
God, how many of them were in his apartment? It was supposed to be just him and Seungkwan who lived here, where did the rest come from?
"What time is it?" he finally grumbled out, sitting up. It's not like he had any options anyway.
"It's 9:16 in the morning," informed him Wonwoo from outside his bedroom. God, was he here too?
"Why are all of you in my apartment? Seungkwan, we agreed that-"
"We all have keys, you idiot. Now get up. We're going to the gym," this time it was Chan.
"Do all twelve of you go to the same gym at the same time? God, they must hate you."
Vernon finally sat up against his headboard, head counting a total of five of his friends currently in his room, assuming the rest to be either in his kitchen or living room.
God damn you, Boo Seungkwan.
"We're pretty well liked, actually."
A few of the members nodded along to Mingyu's rebuttal.
Yeah, that made sense. Twelve muscly and more than objectively attractive men were likely magnets for clientele over at the gym.
All the more reason to not join them.
All his friends were fitness addicts (sans Jeonghan, maybe). Simply gym bros who had developed what Vernon liked to call an unhealthy habit to exercise — despite how ironic that statement sounded. Vernon, on the other hand, had never been one to put too much emphasis on fitness. He liked his build as it was; some slightly toned muscle and a slim frame. He never really saw any need to bulk up like most of his friends, so he never gained an interest for it.
Yet his friends had tried to convince him to join them, time and time again.
Jeonghan had been the one other friend they had to convince to join them. Other than Vernon, Jeonghan was the only other member of their large friend group who had a proclivity against the gym. But his love for spending time with his friends had won him over, making him tag along just for the mere purpose of not feeling FOMO.
Now, Vernon did not have that issue. He didn't mind missing out on hang outs. He was a pretty lowkey, chill guy. Staying at home unless it was vital for him to leave, now that was more up his alley.
Except now he had twelve men nagging at him to get up, put on some basketball shorts and a flimsy tank top and join them at their gym. It had been a few weeks of this insistence, leading to this moment — all his friends breaking into his and Seungkwan's apartment in order to drag him out.
And the sad thing was that it worked. Apparently it took twenty-three consecutive days of bugging at Vernon to convince him of doing something he didn't want to do for him to budge. He hoped this didn't become some sort of pattern.
~
Vernon felt out of place.
All his friends had arrived in extremely casual fashion, immediately comfortable in the familiar environment and dispersing themselves in their respective smaller groups.
Meanwhile, even after half an hour of being there, Vernon felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb.
The agreement they'd settled on was that Vernon would try out the gym. If he didn't like it, — more like, if he truly despised it, in Seungcheol's words — they all agreed to leave him alone (other than Jeonghan, who insisted he'd move into his closet and haunt him until he came back).
So, really all Vernon had to do was hang out for an hour or two and then let his friends down easy.
It should've been easy enough considering how out of place he felt surrounded by other unfamiliar gym bros in their natural habitat.
"Dude, at least try not to look like you have no idea what a gym is."
His thoughts were interrupted by Mingyu who suddenly materialized next to him.
"Huh?"
"You've been standing here staring into the distance for five minutes. Here, just follow me. I just finished my cardio You can do arms with me and Seok today."
The statement felt like a threat. Looking at Mingyu, at his muscles, was enough to tire Vernon out. Was he supposed to keep up with that?
Still, Vernon shrugged to himself and followed after Mingyu. Something which he regretted soon after realizing it'd take an entire flight of stairs to get to what he presumed to be the area of the gym where they usually did arms. There, he found Seokmin and Chan, seemingly already in the middle of some set of some workout while Jeonghan sat on a bench press with a coffee in hand.
"You're actually gonna work out? I thought you'd just go to the spa room," commented Jeonghan upon spotting him approaching.
"There's a spa here? Sick."
"And you can use it after a few sets with me. Follow me, let's go figure out how much you can lift," once again, Vernon began to trail after Mingyu towards the stack of dumbbells on a mirrored wall nearby.
"Oh, Y/N was looking for you earlier, by the way," Seokmin stopped Mingyu before he could walk away.
"Y/N? What for?"
"Your bet, you idiot. She said she can bench press 80 pounds now. You owe her $50," interjected Chan, setting down the two dumbbells he'd been holding.
"Nah, no way," Mingyu crossed his arms, "Where's she at?"
"Are we going to get the weights or-"
"Hold on, 'Sol," Gyu interrupted him, "I have something to settle."
"She just went to fill up her water. She should be back soon," added Seokmin.
"Who's Y/N?", Vernon asked.
"Wouldn't you like to know?", snickered Jeonghan.
"What does that even me-"
"Chan, just hand me those weights. Vernon should be able to lift those," Mingyu reached over to Chan, grabbing the dumbbells he'd been using with an ease that made it seem like they were weightless.
But this theory proved to be wrong the moment Mingyu attempted to hand them over to an unsuspecting Vernon. Embarrassingly enough, the most predictable thing happened.
But what was most embarrassing was the timing. Suddenly the main character of the conversation showed up, just as Vernon's hands failed to hold onto the heavy weights, dropping them at his feet and barely missing a hospital visit by a few inches. His hands had stupidly attempted to catch them mid flight, but it only resulted in him almost falling over, body now bent down as he caught himself before falling.
That's when he saw an unfamiliar pair of converse standing in front of him.
"Hey- oh, shit!" were the first words he heard from you just as he created the biggest clanking sound resonating through the entire floor.
Looking up with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment on his face, he found you standing right in front of him. Like his own, your expression showed surprise, though he also found amusement in it. In any other situation, he may have laughed along with you (and the rest of his friends who he heard cackling from behind him), but this instance was different.
Because Vernon hadn't expected for a girl his friends had merely mentioned in passing to look like you. Makeup-less and in some worn band shirt with some tiny spandex underneath, you had Vernon's mouth catching flies.
Vernon didn't have a type. Was never one to care for appearances too much. But he suddenly found himself gulping at the sight in front of him. Your eyes stated down at him with some sort of wonder, and he felt a sickly feeling in him that told him he wanted them on him at all times from then on — even if it was due to something embarrassing he'd done.
An incredibly out of character thought for Vernon to have, but here he was.
Instead of picking up the dumbbells he'd stupidly dropped and introducing himself as he usually would've done, his brain malfunctioned along with his body. Losing balance as he straightened himself up, he stammered out what he believed to be a greeting (though he wasn't too sure; he was too distracted by you) while Mingyu offered him support to properly stand.
"Hi?", you responded, "Sorry, was that my fault?", you turned to the other members with slight concern.
A soft slapping sound resounded as Mingyu patted Vernon on the back, chuckling over at your concerned expression.
"Nah, you're fine. Vernon's hand-eye coordination just isn't that good."
"Dude, you handed me like a hundred pounds with no warning!", Vernon recoiled from his touch, attempting to save some of his dignity.
"That was just forty on each dumbbell actually," corrected Chan.
Vernon groaned internally.
Thank you, Chan. Make him look like even more of a wimp than he already did.
"Uh, anyways. Hi, I'm Vernon," he extended his hand out dumbly.
"Oh, you're Vernon?," your hand squeezed his own (a feeling which Vernon would have to get back to later), "I've been looking forward to meeting you," you smiled before letting go.
"Uh, what?"
He was really killing it today.
"What Hansolie here means to say is, it's nice to meet you too," Mingyu interjected, "Now, onto more important matters - I want evidence," he said in reference to the previous subject.
"Not even a 'hello'? Not even gonna let me get to know your friend?", you looked over at him with a grin that Vernon was too flustered to return.
Before he could even consider interjecting, Mingyu grabbed onto your wrist, pulling you over to the bench press Jeonghan had been sitting on to demonstrate the skill Seokmin had declared you'd been looking to show off to Mingyu. Jeonghan got up as soon as you approached, giving you a grin that told Vernon you were familiar with each other before walking over to where Vernon was standing. He seemed to always keep some distance between himself and any actual exercise. Respectable.
Without even needing to be asked, Seokmin and Chan stood nearby, ready to spot you in case it were necessary while Mingyu helped you load the weights onto the bar.
"So. She's cute, huh?", Jeonghan leaned over to Vernon's side, voice low to ensure the others didn't hear.
"Huh?"
"Y/N. She's really pretty, isn't she?"
"Dude, shut up."
The elder simply snickered, going back to slurping at the basically empty cup of iced coffee he'd been nursing this entire time.
Vernon continued watching you, spacing out from any commentary the other boys had been giving you as you began a set, instead solely focused on you.
As you laid on the bench, your shirt rode up, exposing the tiniest spandex shorts that dug into the muscle hidden under them. Your back arched in order to lift the weighted bar, giving him perfect sight of your silhouette despite the baggy shirt you had on.
God, your body was sculpted ridiculously. Your body was toned, which showed through perfectly from the position you were currently in. The sweat dampening your clothes didn't help matters either.
Vernon wasn't one to thirst on a random Tuesday afternoon, yet here he was, eyes glued to you as if he hadn't just met you. He might've felt more guilty, but both you and his friends were too distracted to notice him, so he let himself indulge this one time.
But then Jeonghan interrupted again.
"Are you sure you don't think she's pretty?", he snickered.
"Fuck, fine! Yes, she's obviously very pretty. What do you want?", he took his eyes away from you to face the manifestation of annoying standing next to him, a satisfied grin on his face.
"Nothing. I was just wondering," he shrugged, lying through his teeth.
Meanwhile, two of his other friends were cheering you on while Mingyu half-heartedly attempted at trash talking you into failing. Even as you carried what to Vernon was incomprehensible weight, you cursed out at Mingyu, something which Vernon appreciated.
Fuck. You were cool.
You were pretty, clearly very confident, strong, got along with his friends, and just incredibly cool. And Vernon had only known you for like ten minutes.
Was this a crush? Did he have a crush on a girl he'd just met?
He was 26. Crushes were so high school, what the hell was happening to him?
"Dude, are you blushing?"
"Han, I swear to god-"
"Oh my god, you are!", the way his eyes lit up at the realization was like it was christmas morning to him. Jeonghan had a strange fascination with mischief Vernon never really understood.
"Who's blushing?"
And suddenly there was another presence next to him, coming to a halt to watch you on what was now your second set of bench presses.
"Nonnie's in love," Jeonghan snickered.
"Shit, with who? Wait, don't tell me," Hoshi stopped for a second to ponder before shaking his head as he gave up, "Never mind. Tell me."
Vernon shook his head. He was friends with idiots.
"Y/N!"
"Dude, not so loud!", Vernon's eyes widened, face only going back to its natural poker face when he noticed you were still being entertained by his three loud friends.
"Dude, wait, that makes sense. They'd make the perfect couple," Hoshi gasped at the revelation., "They're both movie freaks and couch potatoes. But Y/N's way cooler than Vernon," he added.
Jeonghan nodded along in agreement.
You were into movies? You didn't give him the vibe of a couch potato, though. I mean, you were lying there, immense weight on your hands as you challenged the biggest gym buff he knew.
Vernon was about to question them on this assessment. They'd clearly thought about this before, which he wasn't sure whether it was good news for his newfound crush or not. But before he could at least complain at the slight thrown at him, he heard cheering from the spot where he'd been watching you, finally turning back to face you.
"Dude, three sets of eighty pounds with your frame? You're crazy. You might actually be stronger than Mingyu," Seokmin praised you as he offered up a high-five.
"I can do 200 pounds-"
"But you're a tree. It doesn't count," Chan disregarded him, instead choosing to join Seokmin in dapping you up.
Vernon hadn't noticed as he watched you, but Hoshi and Jeonghan had also joined in, leaving him alone in watching you from a small distance away. He went back to feeling kind of out of place.
But he liked seeing his friends with you. It was odd. He'd met many of his friends' friends, but he always felt entirely indifferent about them.
You were different. Vernon felt himself smiling as he watched you snatch the $50 from Mingyu's hand and turn to Hoshi and Jeonghan with a triumphant smile on your face.
And then you looked past them, spotting him and walking the few steps over to him.
"So, gonna congratulate me, new guy?"
He scoffed in amusement.
"I'm new?"
"Here? Clearly. I have seniority at this gym. Now, be a gentleman and congratulate me on robbing your friend of $50."
Vernon couldn't help but return your satisfied smile. You were fun.
"Congrats. Well deserved," he chose to say. He needed to remain nonchalant after his earlier embarrassment.
"Now, c'mon. I'm buying everyone something from the snack bar to celebrate Gyu's defeat," you turned back to head over to the guys, Vernon now following along.
"Fifty's probably not gonna be enough for six people-", someone spoke, Vernon wasn't sure who, too focused on walking by your side.
"It's fine. Gyu'll pay the difference," you shrugged.
"Hey!"
Were you into him? Were you into Mingyu?
You'd been pretty friendly with all his friends that day, but it was impossible not to notice the special attention you paid to Mingyu. But then again, who didn't have a soft spot for Mingyu?
There was no indication you liked him, or that he'd even left some sort of impression on you. If anything, you probably remembered him as the idiot who almost took out both your and his foot. Or maybe as the dumbass who couldn't lift the measly forty-pound dumbbells Chan had been carrying with ease.
Meanwhile, you'd looked for Mingyu, looking far too happy to tease him and take his money.
Maybe Vernon was behind on the current dating world, but the two of you gave him more-than-friends vibes.
But then again, Mingyu held a flirtationship with literally everyone who came into his vicinity. Hell, he was pretty sure he'd at some point flirted with him without realizing it. Except this was an instance in which Vernon needed to be sure before he made a move. Not that he was too scared to do it or anything ...
Sadly for Vernon, he had been too much of a wuss to ask Mingyu about you directly, so he went for someone who he hoped wouldn't tease him.
"So, uhm, do you know Y/N?"
God, he sounded so needy. He was usually smoother than this. He had game. Right?
He'd decided that Joshua his safest bet. He was the only one out of all the guys who could maybe be normal about his curiosity about you.
Joshua could only chuckle at him. His eyes were too focused on scooping at the remnants of the fro-yo Vernon had bought him under the pretense of just hanging out. Casual.
"So you've met. You like her, huh?"
"Dude, what is this? Why does everyone keep asking me that? We've met once," Vernon frowned.
Was he that easy to read?
Joshua shrugged, "She seems like your type. She's single too."
"She is?"
"So you are interested," Joshua grinned.
He groaned. Did all his friends have to be such instigators? Men were the nosier gender, he was sure.
"Listen-"
"It's fine, 'Sol. I don't judge you. She's very pretty. Fun too."
"You talked to Jeonghan, didn't you?"
"Yeah. He told me you almost broke your foot in front of her and proceeded to fuck her with your eyes for like ten minutes straight. Not your finest moment."
Maybe Vernon's memory was failing him, but he was pretty sure those weren't the actual events that happened. Sure, he'd made the entire situation way more embarrassing in his head, but it hadn't been that bad. Right?
"I did not eye-fuck her," he rebutted, "I checked her out. I don't think she really noticed, though."
"Is that good? Wouldn't you rather just ask her out?"
"Uh, am I even her type?", Vernon scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as he reclined back on his chair, "She seemed to be kind of into Mingyu."
"Dude."
"Listen, it's just-"
"Mingyu just has that effect on people. They don't like each other. Not like that. They're just friends," clarified Joshua, "We all met when we started going to this gym last May. She just became closest to Gyu and Kyeom cause they practically live there."
"So they've never ..."
"No, man, I swear. You can ask Gyu. Or better yet, ask her out,."
"It's not that easy!", Vernon grumbled, hand crumbling the fro-yo container in his hand.
"Why not? You've never had trouble with girls. That's Channie. He's a mess," Josh chuckled.
There was just something about you. Vernon had never become this infatuated with someone. It was kind of embarrassing.
"She just ... She makes me nervous for some reason," Vernon admitted, "She's friends with all my best friends and I never even knew about her. She's funny and cool and confident, and-"
"And she's hot," finished Joshua for him.
"She's so fucking hot, man," Vernon groaned as Joshua chuckled.
"So, what, do you think she's out of your league or something?"
"Maybe? You tell me. I need an objective opinion," Vernon said with more seriousness than intended.
Joshua pretended to mull over it, hand scratching at chin as he started up to contemplate it up until Vernon groaned at him to stop.
"Dude, you're such an idiot. I'm not answering that. Just ask her out!"
All Joshua received in response was a muffled groan as Vernon let himself fall back on his chair. The dramatics felt necessary to him at that moment.
"So, are you going to keep going to the gym?", Joshua laughed at his friend.
"I'm a man on a mission."
"Lost?"
"Fuck! Wh- Oh, shit, hi. Sorry, you scared me," Vernon's hand clutched at his chest in surprise, ears slightly red in embarrassment.
Did he really have to embarrass himself every time he saw you?
"Sorry I keep catching you off guard," you chuckled, "You just looked kind of lost. You've been staring into space for the past three minutes."
"Oh, uh, right. It's only my second time here. I'm not sure where all the guys went," he mumbled.
Now facing you, he tried to take quick note of your appearance. You'd come from the opposite direction as him, meaning you'd likely only gotten here just now. That explained the lack of sweat and your pristine hair, as opposed to last time. It made him wonder what you looked like on a regular basis, outside of the context of the gym.
"Right. Well, they usually go to the basketball court on Sundays, so most of them are probably there now. I hate playing sports with Han and Boo, so I usually just avoid them," you explained.
You seemed to have a great hold on his friends' gym lifestyle.
"We could go look for them," you began, "Or we could hang out on our own."
You smiled at him expectantly. It was a cute and innocent smile, as if you'd been hoping for an opportunity to get him alone.
"Do you, uh, do you mean in the gym?"
You nodded, "C'mon. I'm sure none of the guys actually showed you around, did they?", he shook his head, "Men suck. I'll give you a tour, y'know since you're new," you extended your hand out to him, eyes expectant.
With no time (nor dignity) to wipe his hand of any possible sweat, he grabbed onto your own, gulping at your hold.
This was moving faster than he thought. But then again, you probably just felt comfortable around him due to his association with the rest of your friends. It must be that.
Once you made it out of the general area of the gym, you let go of his hand, now opting for walking side by side instead. The place was quite spacious, so it gave more than enough room for the two of you to take your time walking without getting into anyone's ways. Not that Vernon wanted to extend his time with you as much as possible or anything.
"So, how come you've never been here before?", you suddenly asked whilst showing him what you'd donned as the 'poser gym buff' part of the gym. It looked like it, considering it was filled with shirtless muscular men, all ignoring the blatant 'No Nudity Allowed' sign you'd just walked by.
"Uh, before I answer that - How much did the guys tell you about me?"
You chuckled, "Just, stuff. I'd rather hear it from you, though."
Then you smiled at him again. As if you had no idea it messed with his brain chemistry.
"Just, uhm, not really a gym guy like the other guys. Not sporty, like at all. Always got hit by balls in P.E. Kwan drags me to street basketball matches sometimes, but I always end up embarrassing myself. Oh, and I can't really lift, as you probably noticed the other day," he found himself rambling. Very unusual of him.
"Hmm. Yeah, I can see why you don't come to the gym with the rest of them," you laughed, "But I think you should. You bring a nice balance to whatever's going on with the rest."
"Well, uh, I could be persuaded," he made his attempt at flirting, internally cursing at himself while also praying that it didn't fall flat and force him to never show his face in front of you again.
"Oh, really? I think I could help with that," your tone turned a little softer as you gave him a suggestive smile, "Wanna go check out the pool with me? It's usually empty this time of day."
"Oh, uh, yes! I- uh, yeah," he mumbled his way through, gulping when you took his hand again and led him out of the room.
That's when Vernon's mind started going a mile a minute, but instead of freaking out, he let himself be taken away by you.
~
So, maybe taking you up on your offer to use the pool hadn't been the best idea.
Everything was fine. Really. The pool area was pretty clean and the water felt nice. The temperature was just perfect, allowing for anyone who wanted a quick dip to enjoy themselves without risking frostbite like at the local community pool.
Only issue was you.
According to all prior experience, you had proven to be nothing but a health concern for Vernon since meeting you only a few days ago.
Despite the lukewarm water, Vernon was burning up.
Who thought it'd be a good idea to go to the pool, alone, with his crush as she paraded herself around in a sad excuse for a bikini? Was this even allowed? He was seeing too much skin. Which wasn't an issue for Vernon! He'd never call himself a prude, but ... In this one instance, he wished for some of puritanical rule to prevent him from having to see you swim laps in a bikini that left very little to his imagination.
Except, of course, the material in front of him did give him a lot of room for some very imaginative thoughts.
Vernon had no option but to dip his feet in the pool, sitting at the edge with a towel on his lap in order to cover what he was sure was a small chub growing under his trousers. Meanwhile, he watched you swim for a good ten minutes, dreading the moment you stopped and approached him again.
"Are you really not going to swim with me?", you called from afar, having reached the other side of the pool, "The water's so nice and there's no one here."
"Uhm, nope, I hate getting wet. I'll just watch you," he slapped himself mentally as soon as he said it.
"Well, I wanna get to know you," you told him as you exited the pool, killing Vernon with every step you took in his direction up until you sat next to him. Your legs were practically touching.
"Hi," you smiled at him.
There was an air of confidence you carried every time you spoke to him. He was half sure you were fully aware of his crush and were simply banking on it.
"Hi," he said back, unknowing of where to settle his eyes.
You likely caught onto this, giggling under your breath.
"Vernon."
"Yeah?", he looked to you. He deliberately avoided looking at any of your bare skin, staring directly into your eyes with widened eyes.
"You can look at me, you know. I want you to."
"Oh, uh, I- I didn't want to be rude or anyth- Wait, what?"
You giggled again, "You're funny. Are you this much of a mess with everyone else, or am I getting special treatment?"
"Special treatment for sure."
Again, you laughed. Good. At least he wasn't fucking this up.
"You know, the guys told me you were this ... very stoic and chill type of guy. I was wondering if I'd get to see that guy if I got you alone. But you're even worse without the guys around to hackle you," you accused jokingly.
"So you're doing this on purpose?"
He turned his body to face you more, allowing for your knees to actually knock together this time. The dampness of your skin graced his leg, but it was your bare touch that made him shiver. Still, he felt like less of a loser now. He had somewhat of a handle on the conversation this time around.
"Depending what you mean by 'this.'"
"The bikini? Getting me alone? Sitting this close to me knowing I have to override my brain in order to not look anywhere past your eyes?"
Okay, he was flirting now, apparently. Unexpected, but he welcomed it. His mouth was going faster than his brain. But the slight shift in your expression told him it was a welcomed development.
"Yes," you bit back a smile as you confirmed it, "I wanted to see whether the feeling was mutual or if you were just socially incompetent. No offense."
"None taken. And, uh, what's your verdict?"
"I think it'd be more fun if you tell me," you challenged.
Either he was crazy or you were gradually leaning closer to him. Or maybe it was him. Both? Either way, the proximity increased.
"I do like you. It's painfully obvious and probably worrying how much since we've only met once, but I even went asking my friends about you," he found himself admitting.
"Really? That's funny, because I was asking Mingyu about you," you revealed.
So you didn't like Mingyu. Noted.
"Oh? I, uh, what'd he say?"
You hummed, scooting over and shamelessly laying one of your legs atop his, body leaning completely towards his own. The distance between you was practically nonexistent now, with your eyes even zeroing in on his lips as you spoke.
"He told me you can be shy sometimes. That I should help you out a little."
"A-and, are you? Going to help me out, I mean," he could hear his own gulp.
"Nope," you popped the 'p,' "I want you to take what you want."
"That's ... You're kind of mean," he chuckled breathlessly.
You chuckled back, but you were clearly frustrated by how much he was dragging it.
Without having to move, his arm wrapped around you, courtesy of you literally taking it and placing it on your hip. He was obedient, so he followed along. Next, your hand placed itself on his cheek, tilting his head down and abolishing any sort of distance left. Your lips were practically touching now.
"Vernon, just do it. I want you to. I really want you to."
And so he kissed you.
Immediately, you deepened it, taking control of it all.
All you wanted was for him to take the first step, which in reality he didn't. You held all the power, which you knew. Still, he enjoyed this. He liked that you knew the effect you had on him and that you knew what to do with it.
Plus, he'd be an idiot to complain about your sticking your tongue in his mouth.
Like any thinking, breathing man, he continued to kiss you, not bothering to stifle any groans he left against your lips. He completely disregarded the fact that you were in a public space, that anyone could walk in at any moment — maybe even one of his friends. But it was hard to care when your fingers tangled through the tresses of his hair and sucked at his tongue.
The kiss only stopped when you harshly pulled at his hair, physically removing his face from your own. He mumbled out a few complaints as you did, but eventually woke up from his trance and cleared his throat as you pulled away.
"It's almost 1 o'clock," you said, but all he paid attention to were your swollen lips, "There's a swimming class at one," you began getting up, towering over Vernon as you dried yourself up, "So unless you want to get a fine for fondling in private property, we should go."
You held out your hand for him to stand up, surprising Vernon when your stance didn't falter when helping lift up his weight. That's when he was reminded about your affinity for weight lifting. Hot.
The fleeting thought of you manhandling him crossed through his mind, but he shook it away not wanting to risk a boner at the gym.
"You planned this, didn't you?"
"Maybe. But it's more fun like this, isn't it?", you giggled as you walked away.
Vernon shook his head to himself as he watched you — very focused on the show you gave him as you walked away.
Vernon continued to see you on an almost daily basis after that — or at least every day in which he got dragged to the gym. Except maybe not in the way that he had hoped.
After that time in which you led him to the privacy of the empty pool patio, the two of you did not spend any time alone. Every single time he saw you was exclusively at the gym, with all the other guys in your immediate vicinity. He didn't even get the chance to speak to you, mostly unable to due to your attention being shared between thirteen men seemingly starved for attention (with him being the biggest culprit).
Like a dumbass, he didn't ask for your number at any time. His shyness around you had mostly left him, but he was still an awkward idiot when it came to taking further steps towards you.
And it wasn't as if you'd stopped provoking him. If anything, your efforts had doubled. Your gym outfits went from baggy shirts and spandex to tiny little sets that showed off as much skin as possible — he had even confirmed with Seungkwan that this was a brand new development in your wardrobe. You were insistent in eyeing him down any time it was his turn to do some sets. You'd bite your lip and stare at him as if you wanted to jump him on the spot. It was safe to say that this messed with his performance (not that he had good form in the first place).
A week of this went by, making him slowly lose his mind. All of his friends became privy to his frustrations, but he was mostly met with mockery. Some told him he was an idiot, that he should just grow some balls and ask you to come over to his apartment. Others simply laughed at how weak he was under your attention.
On the eighth day of this hell, he finally decided to do something about it. If you wanted to play with his sanity, then he'd feed right into it. He didn't care to look like a wimp or like he was down bad for you — he was both of those things, and proud.
Mondays were the day in which the guys went to the gym at night rather than during the day. Something about a lower influx of people at that specific time. And you, you had a tendency of attending the gym at the same time as them most of the time, which meant you were also present.
It was almost closing time by the time the guys were done working out that day. Vernon had to endure three hours due to their insistence that they 'might as well stay til closing.'
As they began to pack up, of course Mingyu managed to hold up the part-timers who were about to close, wondering if it'd be fine to stay an extra ten minutes so a few of his friends could catch the showers they desperately needed. Being Mingyu, of course the part-timers didn't stand a chance to his charms.
Vernon decided to take this as an opportunity to find you alone. The guys (who loved to hog your attention, apparently) would finally be out of his way while he sought you out. It was the perfect chance to at least ask you for your number. Before you left the guys and headed over to the girls' locker rooms, you made sure to eye Vernon far too suggestively for him to misunderstand your intentions. Or at least he hoped so.
For once, Vernon was thankful for Mingyu's habit to befriend every person in his vicinity, as his yapping allowed Vernon to sneak into the women's locker rooms to find you there. It was also thanks to him that he'd be able to you alone rather than accidentally bump into some other gym-goer. He made a mental note to thank him later before beginning his search for you.
This search didn't last long. It was clear to Vernon as soon as he crossed the threshold to the showers in the girl's locker room that you'd been expecting him.
In nothing but a towel, you stood next to a running shower, lower lip trapped under your teeth as you eyed him down. No words to be exchanged. All you had to do was extend your hand out to him for him to finally unfreeze and do something.
Immediately, you dropped your towel and dragged him into the shower, pulling him in so that he'd have you pinned up against the dampened wall. His gym clothes got soaked, but he figured it was worth the temporary inconvenience. Especially when your hands began pawing at him to get undressed within seconds of kissing him.
Just like last time, Vernon lost all sense of time and space in the kiss. His hands were way less awkward than he was, confident in their touching of your body. The wetness of the running water only added to it all, allowing Vernon's hands to easily slide across every curve.
"You took too long to make a move," you huffed into his lips.
Your hands expressed frustration. They glided through his dampening hair, pulling it in order to get his mouth to open for access for your tongue. It was clear to him you had a tendency to take what you wanted, and he was ready to be completely consumed by you.
"I told you," he mumbled, "you make me act like an idiot."
That pulled a chuckle from you as your lips traveled down the wet skin of his neck. Teeth pulled lightly at the skin there, surely leaving reddened marks behind their wake. Every bite and suckle was met by a squeeze of your hips, courtesy of Vernon's needy hands.
"So I'm not being too forward? This is fine?", you pulled away for half a second before Vernon grumbled as he reconnected your lips. You chuckled at his neediness.
"Please be as forward as humanly possible. It's hot."
The two of you continued kissing. Had it not been for the echoing of the water hitting the floor, Vernon was sure the obscene sound of your kissing would've made him blush. It wasn't like him to play tonsil tennis in public like this, but you made his common sense leave his body.
Then you made things all the worse for him.
Pulling away, you eyed him before wrapping your hand around him. Vernon made the mistake of looking down, finding your hand slowly working him, pace so slow it was surely meant to tease. He groaned as he looked back up, eyes becoming stuck at your bare tits for the first time since you'd dropped your towel for him.
"You're so fucking hot," he groaned almost pained.
"Yeah? You too, baby," you grinned as you sped up your hand.
Baby? Was he baby now? Fuck.
"I- fuck, this won't be fun if you keep going," he winced despite the increasing pleasure. This only encouraged you to make things even worse for him, though. Your lips attached to his neck again, dick now being grasped with both hands as one worked him and the other tended to his balls.
"I'm having fun," a breath was felt against his skin as you chuckled between kisses to his chest, "I want you to cum right here," you laid one last kiss before moving to his ear, licking and pulling at the lobe, "If you're good, you'll get me on my knees after."
Vernon almost lost it then. He didn't care what you'd ask of him. He needed this. At no other point in his life had he ever needed something as much as he needed to obey your every whim.
He groaned and buried his face in your neck as his hands continued to fondle at you. They took turns between your ass and your breasts, losing any decorum they had left. This was the only pleasure he could give you while you jerked him off, but you loved it. Your pretty sighs against his ear told him that you were getting off on the effect you had on him. His lack of control as he felt you up to his heart's contentment had you reeling. It was sickening how much he enjoyed that knowledge.
"'m gonna cum, fuck. Shit, I need- oh, fuck," he babbled. You squeezed and twisted and played at his cock in ways that had nonsensical words leaving his lips. No further coherent cries left him whilst you had your fun with him.
"That's it, baby. Cum for me," you continued to instigate.
As per usual, he was yours to toy with. His body followed your instructions before he could even process your words. The cum splattered on your stomach before trailing down and going down the drain, washed away by the wasted water.
Again, you kissed him, this time without the separation of your hand on his dick standing between you. His arms held onto you tighter than before as he pulled you as close as possible. Sensitivity sparked on his dick when you began absentmindedly grinding against him. Despite the water surrounding you, he was sure it was your own wetness that he felt as you humped him.
When he let his hand explore between your legs, he had to bite back a groan. You were incredibly soaked, instantly dampening his fingers with your nectar.
Your sigh of pleasure against his lips told him all he needed to know as he felt between your legs. A tiny nod from you was confirmation that you wanted him, so his fingers entered you. But not before teasing at your folds with a hard knuckle, up until you bit his lip and grumbled at him.
"Shit, you're tight."
"I'll be tighter when you fuck me," you moaned.
"I, fuck, yeah? You'll let me fuck you, baby?", he breathed out, beginning to scissor his fingers in and out of you, curling where he knew would have you keening for him.
You gasped out a moan, hands digging into his chest in a worthless attempt to both pull and push him away. Head thrown back, Vernon took advantage to scrape his teeth on the skin there, sucking lightly at the points that had you shuddering. His read on your body was immediate. It gave him a surge of confidence to note every little reaction you had to him. Every moan and every gasp was taken in by him, stored in his hippocampus for future use.
"Oh, fuck, right there, shit, Vernon," you whimpered.
Long fingers, pointed and curled in a come-hither motion began repeating their movements. Touching that spongy part of you, Vernon continued to pull cries out of you, uncaring that anyone could walk by and hear you despite the running shower. The water was beginning to run cold, but your orgasm mattered more to Vernon.
"'m gonna cum, Nonnie," you warned, letting your head fall onto his shoulder.
"Cum, shit. Wanna fuck you so bad."
You tightened at that, causing his hardening length to twitch at the thought of you wanting him as much as he did you — though that was impossible to him.
When your orgasm found you, Vernon knew he was in out of his depth. Your back curled as his free hand held you up against him, causing your chest to dig into his own. Head thrown back and fingers digging into his biceps, you were a sight he would never forget. A low groan of his own mixed with your breathy whines at the mere view of your pleasure overtaking you in such a way — and because of him!
His fingers continued to play at your middle throughout your orgasm, refusing to stop toying at your swollen clit until you whined at him to stop with a halfhearted grumble.
He chuckled at the sight. Somehow you managed to look adorable to him right after what had just happened between you.
Just when he thought you'd stop to at least take a breather, you cupped his face and pulled him in for another kiss. His fingers were still dripping with you, hand simply flying between your bodies to ensure he didn't get your own substances on you. But shocking him once again, you pulled away, grabbing onto his hand and slipping his fingers in your mouth.
Eyeing him down as you sucked at his fingers, his mouth shot open, letting out a silent groan at the sight — Depraved. That's the only way Vernon could describe himself at that moment as he watched your eyes roll back as you sucked at his digits in your mouth.
"I wanna suck your dick," you deadpanned as soon as you pulled his fingers out of your mouth.
All he could do was choke on his own spit, full well knowing that his dick twitched against his stomach, gracing your own due to the proximity between you.
"I, you don't have to-"
"But I want to. Do you not?"
Your head tilted and your eyebrows furrowed as if you were confused by his hesitation. He was confused too.
As much as he wanted to take you up on your offer, — and very enthusiastically so — he knew there was no way he could last more than one more orgasm (and that was saying a lot).
And despite the thought of you on your knees, mouth wrapped around him as you eyed him in that way you knew made him feel faint making him almost lose his mind, what he wanted most at that moment (or ever, he was pretty sure) was to be inside you.
The thirst he felt for you at that moment was unmatched. It was a sickly feeling considering he'd only known you for a bit over a week, yet your effect on him had been immediate — That, and the fact that you were standing in front of him, completely nude and dripping wet (everywhere), eyeing him like you wanted to devour him until there was no man left in him.
"I wanna fuck you," his voice broke as he said it, a testament to how needy he felt in that moment.
"Yeah?"
There was that pleased, teasing smile on your lips again. And then a hand wrapped around him again, but this time directing him towards your center, holding him hostage as his tip graced at your mound.
"Like this? Want me against the wall? While the guys wait for me to finish 'showering'?", you were challenging him, he knew it.
He took the bait.
For the nth time, your lips connected in a heavy kiss. It was dubious whose spit made its way to his chin, but that was the last thing he had in his mind.
Grabbing onto your toned thigh, he lifted it to wrap around his waist, pushing himself up against you even closer, ridding you of even the smallest inch of distance. Meanwhile, your hand led his cock to your entrance, teasing yourself (and him) by running it up and down your slit, stopping to circle his tip on your clit.
Vernon's forehead fell against yours with a groan at the feeling of your warmth, a whimper leaving him when you took that chance to lick into his mouth, beginning to push him inside, but only the tip.
"F-fuck, please," he pleaded against your lips.
"Begging now?", you chuckled.
"I'll beg every time if it means you'll let me fuck you."
And he meant it more than he realized. Whimpers left his mouth as soon as you began leading him in, legs shaking and a sigh of relief leaving his lips at finally being inside you.
You were so tight, so hot, so fucking wet. He could feel his eyes itching to roll back all the way to his brain at how perfect you felt. Grabby fingers held onto your damp skin, uncaring that the water hitting his back was now cold and only proved as an obstacle to fucking you. Any surrounding circumstances were locked up in the back burner. His brain was just a constant repetition of yesyesyesyes as he willed himself not to cum within the first minute.
"Fuck, you feel so fucking good ..." he groaned out.
"I'll feel even better when you move," you huffed out a breath.
"Just one second, baby. You feel so good, I'm sorry."
Readjusting his hands on your hips, he brought you closer, raising the leg you had wrapped around him a bit and leaning you upwards. From this angle, he began to move, starting off slow to test the waters. And god, did that reward him.
The prettiest sigh he'd ever heard left your lips, accompanied by subsequent gasps of pleasure. Sharp nails dug into his back, petulant in their attempt to pull him closer, but the took it like a champ.
"Nonnie, fuck! R-right there!", you cried out.
And then he was gone.
He was no longer himself. No longer caring to extend his orgasm and only worried about hitting that spot. The spot that had your back arching and your chest pressing onto his. That same spot that morphed your face in a way that Vernon knew he'd remember for endless nights after this.
Continuing to piston desperately into you. Strength he didn't know he had suddenly took over as he manhandled your body as he wished. Every thrust was accompanied by your own attempts at pushing back against him, leading to a depraved harmony of slapping skin and gasps of pleasure.
"Didn't, shit, didn't think you were this strong," you hiccuped out.
"That's what good pussy does to a man," he joked, but deep down probably meant it.
You tried to laugh, but the sound was interrupted by another moan, head throwing itself back and resting against the shower wall. You tightened yourself around him then, groaning something out to him about not making you laugh. He couldn't really process it when you were suctioning him in so deliciously.
Soon enough, he felt his high approaching, making him panic and accelerate the speed of his thrusts. His mind was going a mile a minute as he attempted to take you down with him, mumbling out expletives into your skin, huffing and groaning at the way you internmently tightened around him.
"Need you to cum with me, okay? Please, it'll be so fucking embarrassing if you don't."
You chuckled between gasps, pulling him in for a kiss, "I'm there, just, fuck, keep doing that."
He was far too gone, lips barely able to kiss back in the midst of his orgasm taking over. He couldn't do this. Couldn't handle how good it all felt. Couldn't deal with your tongue in his mouth or your nails digging into his skin, much less with the sudden strangulation your cunt performed on his cock as your own orgasm arrived. And then your high pitched moans came into the picture, making him truly lose his mind.
"It's so good, oh god, so fucking good. You feel so- fuck, shit, so tight, baby," he babbled against your lips.
"So good, hmm? Fucking me so good, Non," you moaned back.
Vernon swore he blacked out after that, not knowing what happened as soon as the dramatic influx of pleasure reached him. The aftermath was full of dizziness and a feeling of fulfillment Vernon had never experienced before. It was like waking up from an amazing nap, except this time he was still plunged deeply into the prettiest girl he'd ever seen as she pressed lazy kisses to his chest.
"Are you alive?", you asked when you reached his lips, pecking them once, twice, thrice before he tried deepening it, only to find you pulling away with a giggle.
"Maybe not. I'd be fine if I wasn't. That would've been a great way to go."
"You're funny after sex," you noted.
"It's a little easier when I'm already inside you. It's less nerve-wracking that way."
"Yeah? So are you gonna go back to stuttering through every sentence once you pull out?", you tightened yourself around him to somehow prove your point, making him wince.
"Nope. Staying here. I'll even risk hypothermia with this cold ass water," that earned him another laugh and even a kiss.
"Okay, Romeo. Mingyu can only hold off the part-timers for so long, c'mon," you pressed your hands on his chest, making him groan but follow along to your instruction as per usual. — maybe this was something to look into. Later.
~
"I was not expecting that from you," you breathed out a laugh once you were dressed, exiting the dressing room hand-in-hand.
You were kidding. Maybe.
"I told you I'm not as socially awkward as I seem. I'm just an idiot around you," he chuckled. His hand swung back and forth with yours jovially.
He was very happy right now. Sue him.
"Well, a very skilled idiot, then."
He laughed along with you as you approached the main lobby, finding two familiar men leaning against a wall. It was clear in their demeanor that they'd been waiting a while, with Mingyu sighing in frustration when he spotted you.
"Half an hour? What could you have been doing in there for half an hour?", whined Seokmin.
"Well-"
"Don't. Rhetorical question," interrupted Mingyu.
The two of you snickered, walking past them and towards the exit. Both boys exchanged a look as they followed slightly behind you.
"Hold on. No 'thank you'?", Mingyu interrupted again.
Mingyu stopped you from walking away, grabbing onto your arm so you'd turn around and subsequently causing your hand to disconnect from Vernon's
You sighed in exaggerated annoyance, "Fine. Thank you, Gyu. I guess I owe you one."
"Wait, what?", Vernon looked quizzically at you both.
Mingyu grinned stupidly at both of you, with an equally idiotic Seokmin standing next to him with a mirrored expression.
"She asked us if we could stall so she'd get you alone," Mingyu started.
"I was just going to pull the fire alarm, but Gyu figured that probably wouldn't work," Seokmin continued, "and now Gyu scored a date with the receptionist, so all wins here, I guess."
Vernon turned to you, both scandalized and amused, "You-"
"Hey, I told you. You were taking too long. A girl has needs," you shrugged, grabbing onto his hand again and beginning to walk away as if it was nothing.
Vernon could've argued back. But following you seemed like the more obvious response.
Maybe he'd been a total loser throughout all this, but he scored the girl in the end. All was good.
Except now he'd probably have to go to the gym every other day.
to read short 1.7k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!
content: established relationship, afab reader, smut, morning sex, dry humping, tit worship, sorta switch!vernon, etc.
wc: 332 (teaser); 1789 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"God, no, I can't go again," Vernon grumbled, face planted on his pillow.
The man was practically passed out, unmoving as he stayed cuddled into his blankets. The only movements out of him were the occasional squeezing of his arms around the polar bear plush you'd gotten him a few weeks back.
Vernon was more than content staying like this for the rest of the day. Only thing that would've made it all even better would be if you hadn't insisted on getting up and away from his arms.
Unfortunately for him, you were strong enough to flip him over.
Usually, this would be something he enjoyed. Something he keened over, even. But the context was different.
This time you weren't flipping him over to straddle him and make him lose his mind. No, this time was so you could continue to insist at him to get up, but now forcing him to look you in the eye as you did so.
"Vernon, we agreed on this," you pouted at him.
You were too far for his liking. While he laid on bed, body completely stretched out and occupying way too much space, you were propped up on your knees on the same bed, except not close enough for him to pull you into him. This was strategic, he guessed.
"It's been three months. How much longer do I have to keep going to the gym?"
"It's kind of a lifetime type of thing."
He groaned.
"If I show up without you you're just gonna get twelve men barging in here in an hour," you reasoned, crawling closer to him.
"Is there any way I can convince you to not make me go?"
"Is there any way I can convince you to go?", you rebutted, eyes flirty.
Vernon knew this move.
"You know you can convince me. You're very well aware of all the ways in which you can convince me. It's kind of mean of you to threaten me like this."
...
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fear of god
There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 8 masterlist
-
Another day passes. Sleep and wake again. Take the long hand on the clock and spin it back around, the same day starting over again.
Coffee and breakfast in the galley on your own this time. It’s too early for anyone else to join you. Movement in needle-point inching, creeping through the hallways under the glare of the fluorescent lights. Everything feels too hollow and too bright.
When morning briefing comes, you stand by the wall closest to the door and mask your anxiety as best as you can.
Gaz is already in the cockpit when you arrive, chatting on the other side of the room with Alex, their conversation too low for you to eavesdrop on. He sits with an ankle crossed casually over his knee in a figure four and his hands resting on his upper thighs. One of the guys must have lent him a shirt because he wears one of their standard issue heathered grey long sleeved shirts, the fleecy material stretching a bit tight across his shoulders.
The commander claps his hands together, tearing your attention away from Gaz’s shoulders.
“Okay, we’ve got a lot to get through today, so listen up.”
More of the same that you force yourself to pay attention to even though your mind keeps threatening to drift off. You didn’t sleep especially well the night before, tossing and turning over something that you can’t wrap your head around. You’re suffering for it now though, eyes burning from lack of sleep.
“We’ve also got some good news, finally,” Graves says. “Cruise control is operational again, thanks to Gaz.”
A smattering of applause and you can only stare. You clap along with the others, the gesture more instinctual than celebratory.
Gaz’s smile is bashful, a classic, ah, anyone could’ve done it. But anyone didn’t and his faux modesty grates on your nerves.
Amidst Graves’ usual rundown of the day’s tasks and schedule, you notice something. Or rather, the absence of something.
With a fresh layer of petroleum jelly still clogging your nostrils, you can’t smell anything in the room. For the first time since Gaz boarded the ship, you stay rooted in your body, not swept away by the sense memory of another time and another place. If your mind drifts, it’s only because of what you’ve been ruminating on these past couple of days.
You observe and take note.
Then the briefing comes to a close, the crew dismissed for the day. You only stand up after Hadir and Nikolai take leave, still staring across the room from the corner of your eye. Despite being dismissed, Gaz doesn’t leave his seat beside Alex, still deep in conversation. He doesn’t so much as glance your way as you step from the cockpit.
You don’t know why that stings.
Nausea hits you out in the hall. You stumble down the stairs leading up to the cockpit before you have to steady yourself with a hand against the wall and breathe until it subsides. Less than two days later and he’s already ingratiated himself to the commander. Graves isn’t a complicated man; he wears his favouritism like a badge of honour, happy to let his underlings fight for his approval.
You don’t know why it bothers you, but it does. Deeply. In the months since you first met Graves, you’ve hardly graduated from lukewarm pleasantries, and yet somehow within less than forty-eight hours, Gaz has earned the commander’s praise and respect. It doesn’t make sense.
The door to the cockpit abruptly slides open and a figure breezes past you, quick legs taking them halfway down the corridor before your brain even registers who it is.
“Farah?” you call out, making her stop in her tracks.
Already at the end of the hall, she turns at the sound of your voice and waits for you to catch up with her, poised like a sickle-footed dancer. She holds a tablet in front of her, the edge resting against her sternum. Dark eyes follow you all the way.
“Can we talk?” you ask when you’re close enough to speak at a clandestine volume.
Her eyebrows pull together. “What’s that on your face?”
“What? Oh, it’s nothing—it’s just Vaseline. Can I ask you something?”
“About what?”
“First just—” Quiet suddenly, head twisting around to stare down the long corridor behind you. There’s no one there. Farah seems mildly unnerved when you turn your focus back on her, but when is she not these days? Maybe you are fraying at the edges. “I’ll walk with you, okay?”
Instead of responding to that, she spins on her heel and keeps walking. You take her silence as permission to follow her down the hallway towards the cargo hold. You keep silent until you’ve descended below the orlop deck, the sheer distance from the cockpit making you lower your hackles.
Finally, it feels safe enough to speak. “What’d you think of him?”
“Gaz?” she clarifies, and the question immediately irritates you because who else would you be referring to? Who else emerged from nowhere?
“Yes.”
She doesn’t respond immediately, her eyes drifting back down to the tablet in her hands, taking her attention away from you again. Her fingers flit across the screen as she types up a quick message, not missing a single stride as you continue down the narrow, vent-lined hall towards the main cargo hold door.
“Farah?” you prompt.
Her eyes flick towards you again. “He’s…helpful,” she finally answers. “Nikolai walked me through how he fixed the autonomous navigation yesterday. It was an oversight on my part to not think of fixing the GPS receiver before, but it’ll be beneficial to have someone else around to catch those slip ups.”
You frown. “I thought you and Nikolai had already tried fixing the GPS receiver.”
She stops in her tracks so abruptly that you nearly trip over your feet as you skid to a halt as well, then stares at you for a beat. Her brow furrows. You’ve never seen Farah look lost before, but she comes as close as you’ve ever seen. Faintly foggy-eyed, lips unconsciously slipping into a frown.
“Farah?” you prod again.
That snaps her out of it. “No,” she says, shaking her head. “No. It was an oversight.”
You open your mouth to argue, certain that you recalled Nikolai mentioning it before, but decide to just let it go. Not worth arguing about. “Okay, fine, it doesn’t matter—look, I just���I know things have been…weird lately. I’ve been weird, but…” You swallow, nerves making your stomach turn. “I just think…that something feels…weird about all of this. And you can tell me if you think I’m crazy, but I thought…the other day you seemed…—it just seemed like maybe we might be on the same page.”
“About Gaz, you mean?”
You just nod.
She levels you with a sidelong look, Mona Lisa without a smile. Inscrutable woman. She looks at you like she’s trying to communicate or understand something or study you or impart something on you, but you don’t know what. Or maybe she just means to look until you do the work for her; until your mouth opens wide and you pour your heart out—
She breaks your stare, looking away. “Okay. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
That surprises you; you somehow expected more resistance. Maybe you expected her to call you crazy. “You will?”
“I trust my own judgment more than anyone else’s. And—” Farah bites her tongue at the last second, holding back whatever comment she’d been about to make. Curiosity nearly makes you question her further, but she finds her words before you do. “…It’s better to be cautious and diligent, even if it amounts to nothing.”
The relief of not being dismissed out of hand nearly bowls you over. “Yes. Yes, thank you. That’s all I’m asking.”
She powers down her device, turning her body to face you fully. “That’s all you wanted to talk about?”
“Yeah. Yes—that’s it.”
“Alright.”
The dismissal is clear in her voice. She doesn’t even have to say it for you to get the request to leave. Even though it comes as no surprise, it still stings.
You only make it a handful of strides down the hall before her voice stops you again.
“And, doctor?”
You pause, looking over your shoulder. “Yes?”
“I’m doing this as a favour. So don’t get anyone else involved with this unless we absolutely need to,” Farah advises. “Okay?”
“Okay. I won’t.”
And then she disappears into the cargo hold without a glance back, the doors sliding shut behind her.
At half two, there’s a knock on the medbay door and you pause in the middle of your sentence, stylus poised in midair.
It only occurs to you why someone might interrupt your research time when they knock again and a tinny, familiar voice calls out from the other side of the door, “Doctor?”
Your stomach clenches. You put the stylus down and rise to your feet.
He’s there when you press the button to open the door, all smiles and fulsome charm, cloying like overripe fruit. Pungent and on the brink of spoiling, perfuming the air with a sickly sweet aroma, saying in a different language, this is your last chance, so take it while it’s still here. It won’t be long until this is all gone.
But you step to the side and let him in because you promised him you would.
“I’m not too early, am I?” Gaz asks, giving you an out, and you almost take it.
It’s tempting just to say yes and send him on his way, no follow up appointment scheduled. Maybe you’ll always be too busy to see him. Why invite him into your sanctuary after all, the only place on the ship meant just for you?
But you’ve hardly kept him out, a little voice in your head reminds you. Hasn’t he been here before?
Again, that lingering suspicion. No evidence to back you up and yet your gut is firm in its conviction. You think of walking into the medbay the day before and stopping in your tracks, overcome by the sense that someone had been there just before you arrived.
“Nope,” you reply with a tight smile. “Come in.”
The room feels a lot more cramped with another person in it. Particularly a man of his stature. Though you’ve treated other men before, some even more formidable than Gaz, he has a certain enigmatic quality to him that seems to take up a room.
Your eyes subconsciously track the sway of his hips as he walks over to the exam table and takes a seat in the middle of it, waiting patiently for you to join him.
“What first, doctor?” Gaz asks, hands clasped in front of him.
Hesitant, you smooth your hands down your lab coat and move towards him. “Um. Just—just sit for a second and I’ll grab my things.”
His stare is a physical weight on your back, but you have to keep it turned to him while you gather all the requisite equipment.
“Sorry if I caught you at a bad time. Were you busy?”
“…No,” you answer, shaking your head. “I wasn’t. I’m—well, honestly I’m probably the least busy person on the ship. Half the time I’m just twiddling my thumbs in here.”
You say it blithely, almost a joke, but when you turn back to Gaz, you find him staring at you with sympathetic eyes, as if sensing a deeper undercurrent to your words. “You wouldn’t be here if that were true.”
The sudden shift to earnestness makes you feel almost awkward, embarrassed. You distract yourself by ripping apart the velcro sleeve of the blood pressure monitor. “Can you hold your arm out, please?”
He does, letting you wrap the sleeve around his arm, his bicep bulging around it.
You conduct the litany of routine tests in silence, careful to avoid eye contact or conversation. The silence feels too delicate to break.
The evaluation consists of a series of standard tests that you’ve performed countless times before: measuring his height and weight, taking his vital signs—blood pressure, heart rate, temperature—which all come back normal, listening to his organs—which all sound, to your ear, perfectly fine—and a visual and physical examination.
You’re not exactly sure what you expect to find. Hypotension from dehydration; decreased skin turgor; weak and thready peripheral pulses. Anything at all that might indicate the fact that he just spent the last few days stranded without food or water. Anything to indicate starvation or dehydration or lack of oxygen.
But with each successive test, you find yourself less and less sure that he experienced any hardship at all. Everything looks fine.
Even with the examination table lowered as much as possible, he’s still a bit too tall for you to properly perform your evaluation, necessitating that you pull up a stool at one point. It forces you to get far too close for comfort, only a hair's breadth from being pressed up against Gaz’s side when you hold the otoscope up to his ear, peering into the canal. Acutely aware of the heat emanating off his body and your nipples beading under your shirt.
He’s quiet too, for the most part. Breathes heavier when you touch your hands to his skin, but you chalk it up to reflex. Ignore the way your hands tremble and your sex aches from his presence alone.
His lips part in a crooked grin when you switch to palpating his lymph nodes. The exhaled laugh makes your hands twitch against his neck. “Sorry—that tickled.”
“It’s fine.” Ignoring the way your face heats up, you feel around the nodes again, digging your fingers in enough to be sure that all seems well. Still nothing jumps out at you.
It’s a hundred times worse when you have him lie down on the table so you can feel around his abdomen, checking for anything abnormal. You shake a bit when the muscle doesn’t give under your questing fingers, rock hard. Beneath the shapeless spacesuit that he always used to wear his bulk was mostly hidden, but you feel it now, the solid muscle of his core undeniable.
Enough. It doesn’t become you to objectify your patient, but there’s not much you can do besides ignore it and hope the impulse goes away on its own.
When it finally comes time for his blood test, you step down from the stool and leave his side to go fetch a fresh needle and syringe, a couple vials, and adhesives for after. His eyes never leave your back.
You tie off his arm and study the crease of his arm until you see a vein, cleaning the spot while keeping your gloved thumb pressed against the skin.
“Okay, deep breath if you need to,” you whisper.
He doesn’t flinch or wince when the needle presses in, lips not even twitching. Calm always in spite of the situation at hand.
It’s oddly intimate, standing so close to him with your fingers resting against the inside of his arm while you fill vial after vial with his blood. Lulled by the sound of his breath, his chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. Almost a dreamlike space. You find yourself avoiding his eyes again, lest they distract you.
When you’ve drawn enough for your tests, you extract and discard the needle and syringe, bandaging the prick. Your hands linger on his arm, finger still tracing over the delicate skin of his cubital fossa.
“Anything wrong with me, doctor?” Gaz asks teasingly.
Surprisingly, no—at least, nothing you’ve been able to detect so far. That leaves you with far more questions than you originally had. He’s the picture of health as far as you can tell from your cursory exam, though his blood tests will reveal more.
“Nothing so far. I’ll let you know when your bloodwork’s ready though,” you let him know with a brittle smile.
His gaze drops to your neck, half-lidded eyes watching the way your throat bobs when you swallow reflexively, suddenly nervous. Avoidant disposition; you’ve always pulled away from things that have tried to pull you in. You don’t know why that thought comes to you now.
“What’ve you got there, love?” Gaz asks in a low, purring voice, staring at you intently, and suddenly it’s like a bubble has formed around the two of you. The outside world melts away, fades into the background. A faint hum fills the space between you.
“What?” you reply, a bit doltish, breath catching in your throat when his eyes narrow and he leans in.
“That��right there…” he murmurs, leaning in closer to you, a hand coming up to rest against the side of your face. “Under your nose.”
Body rooted to the spot, you don’t do anything when he drags his thumb under your nostril, wiping away the mess of petroleum jelly jammed under your nose. There’s nothing you can do but let him clean it off, your arms dangling by your sides like lead weights, each pass of his thumb wiping away more and more.
“There, that should do,” he hums, wiping the excess off on his shirt, leaving a dark, oily stain behind. Dark eyes flick up to meet yours again.
You can’t think of anything to say; your mouth goes dry instead. He lets another low chuckle out, eyes crinkling at the corners. As if your distress were written across your face.
It’s like he can see right through you sometimes.
“I—” you choke out. “T-thank you.”
“It was a good try, but…something like that isn’t going to help.” It’s said like a fact, not a warning. “I’m already up here.”
Two fingers tap your forehead, lingering there for a second. You tremble under his touch.
And then, in the back of your mind, something moves. Something of you and not of you. It’s there and then gone, so fleeting that you barely notice it. But you do.
Ice all the way down to your core. There’s a fear in your heart slowly leaking out, clotting in your veins. Aware that maybe he isn’t just speaking facetiously, that even now you can feel something slithering around in the back of your head and maybe it isn’t just your anxiety speaking to you.
“What do you mean?” you whisper.
His smile splits into something wider than his face. Your fingers are numb against the inside of his arm. “You still trust anything just because it’s right in front of you?”
Nimble fingers brush yours aside to peel off the bandage you just applied, revealing smooth, unblemished skin.
Your breathing goes haggard. You can’t answer him. Any coherent thought has been ripped from the soft tissue of your mind, replaced by a cold, churning fear.
Gaz lifts himself off the table quite gracefully, righting his shirt when he’s back on his feet. The fluorescent lights make everything seem so flat. Even he seems flat, towering over you like a monolith, an obelisk from deep space. Reality sloughs off him when he stands at full height, like he can’t help but shed it.
You stare down at the plaster crumpled up on the exam table. No trace of blood on the soft middle pad.
Right before leaving, he looks at you from over his shoulder. “Let me know when you have my results, doctor.”
All you can do is nod, and then he’s gone.
#ceil writing#cod x reader#gaz x reader#gaz x you#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x you#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick x you#gaz/reader
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In a Free Use City, your knowledge on the subject of your job isn’t always what’s most important. And in your case, it’s the least important. You were actually known as quite a ditz in the Free Use City Offices.
You worked in the tech department surrounded by a bunch of hot and nerdy guys who spoke in yours you couldn’t even begin to understand. You were just happy to be there and they were happy to ogle you and press against you whenever you asked for their help with any simple task.
They thought they had the upper hand on you, thinking they were so clever. But you had them all on a leash. An entire department at your disposal to give you pleasure whenever you wanted.
Your favorite man to bother was IT Robot. He got his work done fast and spent the rest of the day goofing off. The easy air around him made him approachable and the way all his shirts fit snugly against his bulging pecs made you drip with need.
You can’t help but spare him another glance before hesitantly returning your gaze to your own computer, the screen filled with the program you still haven’t figured out. Great, now you were confused and horny.
“Need me for something?” IT Robot’s voice suddenly purrs into your ears. His steel-like grip grabbing onto your plush hips and pulling you back into his hard chest.
His body molds to yours so perfectly it has you tingling all over. Arousal gushing and soaking through your panties. He turns you on so bad even when he barely did anything but it was like your body was out of control. As if it could be programmed just for him when he was the robot.
“Help… I hurt,” you say with a pout, your mind turning to complete mush whenever you’re around him.
IT Robot flashes you with that charming lopsided smile of his, heavily amused by the puddle you melt into whenever he talks to you.
“Where does it hurt, huh? It hurt here?”
He caresses your soft belly with an appreciation that borders on worship before one hand slips beneath your skirt, nuzzling his fingers between your soaked folds.
“Or here?” He asks while the other gives a little pat on your head.
A low whine escapes your lips as he rolls his fingers over your clit, your hips jerking into the touch. And that’s all it takes to have IT Robot plunging three of his fingers deep into your cunt, making you gasp and tremble in his arms.
“That’s what I thought… Don’t worry your pretty little head, I’ll fix the issue right away. It’s what I do after all.”
Your vision blurs as you dive into the pleasure head first. Choking out harsh moans as IT Robot’s fingers move inside you with precision like he has an entire map of your pretty pussy printed in his head. His fingers move in a blur as they pump themselves inside you, hitting all the right places that have you seeing stars. Each curl of his fingers sends your pussy fluttering and clenching down around him.
“Squeeze me tight, honey, ngh c’mon! Don’t think about a thing, just focus on being my pretty baby. My good girl.”
His words send the last thoughts in your head flying out the window, reducing you to nothing but his perfect little fuck toy. Your body relaxes without having to worry about a thing, allowing the ecstasy to overwhelm you.
IT Robot chuckles again as that fucked out expression fills your features. He flattens his palm so that it rubs hard against your clit with every snap of his fingers. With a few quick movements it has you falling over the edge and exploding all over his hand. Your vision flashes white as your orgasm rolls through you and you can’t find the strength to move any of your limbs after.
But that’s alright, IT Robot will take care of you, his fingers slipping out of your pulsing cunt with a pop, and giving your temple a soft kiss. He doesn’t bother cleaning up his hand dripping with your cum as he starts typing on your computer, solving the issue with the program you were using, and successfully helping you with both your aches.
“There, there. I’ve got you, pretty. Just keep feelin’ good. All because of me,” he whispers in your ear. Planning to spend the rest of the day doing all your work for you.
#monster fucker#monster smut#monster lover#monster lust#monster fluff#monster romance#exophelia#teratophillia#robophilia#technophilia#mechanophilia#monster fic#monster imagine#monster bf#monster boyfriend#free use nsft#free use slvt#free use fantasy#mechanoid#robot fucker#robot lover#robot smut#robot man#robot monster#x chubby reader#robot x human#robot x reader#monster x reader#monster x human#monster x y/n
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That last episode really wasn’t as interesting as the discourse suggests, and that’s pretty much the problem:
First, Ludinus’s fight was not of the caliber expected for a final boss fight, which (in combination with his staff) suggests that it won’t be the last time we’ll see him. The issue is that the audience is generally quite tired of Ludinus because (1) he has made far too many appearances for a villain with a single-minded goal, (2) his interactions with the PCs are uninteresting because his motivations don't resonate with them in agreement or opposition, and (3) Delilah did the whole “Cerberus Assembly wizard who refuses to stay dead” thing in this very campaign (plus it was far more thematically appropriate for a necromancer) and that takes the dramatic tension out of the possibility. No one cast member bears the blame for those 3 issues; Matt probably should have pivoted to give Ludinus additional motivations when the Hells had so consistently demonstrated an inability to commit to the gods question, and the players should have done something to build a sense of purpose in their group (which would be their reason to oppose the villain). Instead we're left with "this guy has rancid vibes, kill him and do what he wanted us to anyway."
Second, the PCs’ decisions leading up to this point have annihilated any semblance of tragedy in the narrative. This isn’t a tragedy because that genre rests on eliciting a feeling that the characters deserved better, but the audience nevertheless understands why it turned out this way. That can arise from paying attention to institutional injustices, the allure of cycles of violence, or the development of tragic flaws (strengths causing a downfall). That isn't C3; this is a bunch of trite flaws (selfishness, short-sightedness, pettiness, favoritism, etc.) turning out to be flaws. It would have been amazing if this had been an example of hubris like we saw in EXU Calamity, but each of those main characters were bursting with pride in themselves, their city, and mortality, and while that hubris brought the Lord of the Hells back, they managed to prevent the worst case scenario using the exact same skills and resources. None of that is present here. Bell’s Hells are constantly trying to shift the captain’s hat to someone else, and their ship has been heading straight for rocks for the past 60 episodes. There was no intention to sail into the rocks. It wasn’t their strengths that led to Imogen accepting Predathos; it was the same indecisiveness that has plagued them the entire campaign. They had 118 episodes to build a proper tragedy, and instead we have a story that took hundreds of hours to say that unreliable people shouldn’t be relied upon. The result has been numerous posts hoping for the Hells to suffer all sorts of consequences (TPK, specific player deaths, refusal of aid from the gods) for failing to commit to a course of action. Why? Because then at least there would be some type of cathartic satisfaction that Fucking Around means they’re going to Find Out. It has nothing to do with imaginary people deserving a better ending and everything to do with feeling like this ending would have been more satisfying around episode 50.
These criticisms are not about facets within the story; it's not about whether X character was correct, whether Y fucked up, whether Z plan was the better choice. It's that sometimes people don't land their bit for improv shows, and that is disappointing after seeing skilled storytellers do so well with prior campaigns.
#critical role#c3e118#would i still enjoy the dnd combat and the possibility that ludinus will try to slurpee imogen? absolutely#and the worldbuilding of course#but all the edgy designs and magical items in the world wont make unmotivated characters interesting or enjoyable
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Dan glanced at Rook then back to Willow, he hadn't planned on acknowledging the comment, which was clearly the right choice based on Willow's reaction to it.
"Truly, I feel Peter's habit of personifying things is why the way I was treated wasn't questioned much." Anyone who knew Peter wouldn't feel inclined to question why an android was being treated like a human, seeing as Peter had a history of treating other non-human things in a similar manner that he occasionally expected those around him to do the same. Most were glad to see he was no longer talking to inanimate objects, and had moved on to something that could at least respond and looked human.
The PL600 knew better then to comment on the other android's reaction to the suggestion of calling Johan's android by an acronym, it would lead to the possibility of him being questioned on just what he'd learned. That was something he wanted to avoid, the other androids didn't need to know what had become of the world Peter's older counterpart had come from, and just what that version of Johan had done to it. It would likely lead to the issue with the unstable man worsening if the others knew just how far he could go if he was given any sort of power.
"I understand that well, sometimes I wish mine knew how to stay put. I'd take him to his room, but I know he'll just end up back down here quickly." Dan rolled his eyes, Peter's inability to stay put had yet to improve and his current state would definitely affect that. So carrying him was the best solution, Peter wouldn't be at risk of falling and hurting himself that way.
Dan carefully started taking the crates apart as Sixty and Daniel finished setting the computers up, gathering up the dismantled wooden sides in his hand. He handed it to Daniel, who nearly fell over from the weight, as he'd forgotten Dan made thing look much lighter then they actually where. Soon the two PL600s had the area cleaned up, allowing Brent an easier path in and out of the room to fetch parts as they were finished.
"Happiness now doesn't mean it has to last, that's what beauty comes from, dude." Dan turned his attention to Peter as the younger man started talking. "Flowers are beautiful because they wither, if they stayed like that forever they wouldn't be beautiful. That's the frag-frag-fragility-of the mortality of life is what makes things beautiful. You don't know shit." Dan chuckled a bit as he listened to Peter ramble.
"What are you talking about?" He asked as Peter turned his head to look at Vincent. "Oh, look, it's the purples." He promptly broke out into a fit of laughter. "You really are high out of your gourd, aren't you?" Dan shook his head as Peter kept giggling, clearly amused by his own comment. "Well, at least you're in a good mood."
If the bear was content with no treats, Rook was fine with simply shoving her face in her fur. "Would be funny if you could install a mini fridge."
"Please, ignore that." Willow cut in, "I must say that gesture was quite precious and it certainly justifies why that excuse would be so effective."
Or why nobody had bothered sending Peter to bed so far. They had provided instructions for the custom androids, the androids present could handle the task efficiently. Apparently, the resident human was simply too endearing to be dismissed.
While Dan seemed to find some use in Bishop's suggestion, the other was by far not a fan of the implications, or the tone of his organic counterpart. The lack of a LED didn't hinder his ability to show his distate for the suggested name. "That's merely an acronym."
Bishop simply raised an eyebrow "Does it really matter?"
The android glared at him.
"I understand the feeling." Willow replied, "My favorite human doesn't show the greatest self preservation instinct either. Training is a slow process."
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party animal — rcm (18+)
⋆. 𐙚 ˚ smut, slowburn, pining, swearing, minors dni, reader’s surname is archibald bc it sounds expensive, super rich kids, slut-shaming, kook princess!reader, pre-buzzcut rafe, drug use, alcohol abuse, promiscuity, unprotected sex, reader has major daddy issues, rafe is lowkey obsessed, glazing the reader lol heavy serena van der woodsen vibes, rafe wants to fix her (he needs a therapist!)
you were a paradox, a contradiction wrapped in silk and sin—something meant to be divine but marred by every thorn that hell’s garden could offer. you reveled in it, though—the chaos, the pull of power, the way the world seemed to orbit around your smile. the thrill was intoxicating, the rush of watching people bend to your will like marionettes on fragile strings. if you wanted, they’d scrape gum from the soles of your designer heels, and you wouldn’t even need to say “please.” it wasn’t about malice; it was about the game. how far could you go before everything unraveled?
that’s why you came home late every night, long past the hour when even the shadows began to whisper secrets to each other. midnight had always been your threshold—swaying on the edge of your limits, drenched in vice. you carried the night with you like a perfume—martinis clinging to your breath, the ghost of cuban cigars still roughening your voice. your skin glistened under the harsh yellow glow of the porch light, the sweat and sin of your evening etched into your being.
sarah had been your constant, your touchstone in a life teetering between indulgence and destruction. she was supposed to anchor you, but even her goodness wasn’t immune to your sway. she let you in without question, her hand firm but gentle on your arm as she led you across the threshold. her boyfriend trailed behind, his words a muffled hum lost to the haze in your head as she whispered something you didn’t bother to catch.
you knew better than to stay, yet there you were, wrapped in tom ford and tequila, your gaze flickering in the dim light as you crossed the line you swore you wouldn’t touch again. this was mistake number one hundred, but this one felt different. this one was bigger. and you could already feel the weight of it pressing down on your chest, even as you smiled in the dark. god, how you wished you could take back time.
“shit, shit, shit,” you let out a long, high-pitched moan as your nails dug into the flesh of his chest, leaving everything from crescents to the presence of fresh blood from how hard you were clawing at him.
you threw your head back as you steadied yourself, his strong forearms wrapped around your knees as he spread them about, allowing him to meet your thrusts, his hips snapping forward as you moved at your own pace, bouncing, yours hands moving to push your hair back as your tits moved with every motion. “feel so good, rafe,” you slurred, leaning in and arching forward as you pressed your lips to his neck.
now, pause. was this bad? yes, this was very bad. not only were you drunk off your ass, but he was just as bad, if not worse, running on no sleep and booger sugar the way he usually did—maybe he was just wired that way. whatever the case was, he didn't care. he was enchanted, in a trance that he wasn't completely aware of—maybe it was the blow, he wanted it to be the coke more than anything, but he had a feeling it was more than that.
it had to do with the way you were moving, almost as if you were still at the club, dancing and swaying without a care in the world. had you always been like that? when did the kook princess conquer the underworld? he was panting, his mouth hanging open at the feeling of you squeezing, clenching around him like you were trying to milk everything he had to give—and you were. he let you kiss down his jaw, licking a stripe up his earlobe before moving down to his neck, nipping at the flesh and praying it wouldn't bruise.
“keep this up,” he hissed through his teeth, jaw clenching as his big, rough hands manhandled your hips, giving him all the leverage in the world as he kept thrusting, kept pounding into you like you were the only two people on the earth. “and i’m gonna fucking cum.”
you exhaled, something between a laugh and a moan passing your lips, ringing in his ears like a melody. “yeah, gonna cum?” you taunted, “gonna fill me up, cameron?” god, you were asking for it—begging for it, he was gonna nail you.
he pushed you back with a growl, leaning forward until his lips were perched around your nipple, teeth grazing the flesh of your tit as he muffled a guttural groan, fingers gripping the flesh of youe thighs as his dick throbbed. you could feel it pulsing inside you, twitching against your walls, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you sank down on his cock a final time. then, it was game over.
he moaned, loud and hard as he filled you up, milking the delicious grip your walls had around his cock as he continued to thrust, his cum spilling into you continuously, like he had an infinite amount of it in his balls, but he didn’t and, eventually, it did end.
it ended with you collapsing beside him, panting as you fought for oxygen. you wiped the sweat from your forehead as you panted, coming down from your high and absolutely refusing to look him in the eye—at all, really. he turned to glance at you, sweat sticking to the loose, thin bangs that grazed his forehead. he gulped, unsure of what to say as he took in the sight of you, unsure if he should say anything at all, and he didn't. he was too afraid to, but he’d never admit that out loud. he wasn't the type that got scared, intimidated, nothing of the sort. so, why was he suddenly quiet?
he was supposed to be the one to tell you to get up, to grab your clothes, and to get the fuck out of his room, but the words didn't come out. he was supposed to hear you talk about enjoying long walks on the beach, wanting something serious, something more than a quickie at three in the morning, but you didn’t. you didn’t beg for him to look at you as something more than just his friend, sarah’s best friend. instead, you turned around, pulling a blanket over your naked body, and went to sleep.
the pounding in your head was merciless, splitting your skull into jagged thirds as you groaned softly, pressing a hand to your temple. everything was blurry—the sunlight cutting through the blinds too sharp, the stale remnants of last night’s debauchery clinging to your skin like a brand. you blinked, once, twice, trying to piece together the fragments of memory that refused to align. but when the realization hit, it slammed into you like a freight train. your breath hitched. rafe. naked. asleep.
the room—the white walls, the overflowing closet, the faint trace of white powder on the desk—left no room for doubt. this was his room. and you had slept with him.
“dumbass,” you muttered under your breath, smacking your palm against your forehead like it could somehow erase the memory. “dumbass. dumbass. dumbass.”
you scrambled to your feet, fumbling for the crumpled dress discarded near the bed. your hands shook as you tugged it on, the silk clinging to your skin like guilt. your heels weren’t hard to find, their straps a sharp contrast against the chaos of his room. quietly, you tiptoed to the door, heart thundering with the weight of your actions. what the hell had you done? you tried to steady yourself, convincing your mind that it wasn’t the end of the world. rafe wasn’t the sentimental type. he moved from girl to girl like a chess master with no endgame, and you weren’t exactly unfamiliar with that strategy yourself. if anything, this was just another misstep, a shared mistake that wouldn’t—couldn’t—ruin your friendship.
but god, the thought of sarah finding out, of topper’s smug comments and kelce’s relentless teasing, made your stomach churn.
you reached the kitchen, relief washing over you like a cold shower—until you saw her. standing by the counter, sipping orange juice, her messy blonde hair and pinched expression screaming hangover.
“hey,” you croaked, your voice raspier than you intended.
she barely glanced at you, waving her hand dismissively. “jesus, stop screaming,” she muttered, rubbing her temples.
you rolled your eyes, slipping into a stool and squeezing her shoulder. “sorry, mom, i’ll use my inside voice,” you whispered with a smirk. “what? john b keep you up with his john d?”
her eyes narrowed, a faint smile twitching at her lips. “oh, you so cannot be talking,” she shot back, draining her glass in one go. “you did my brother, so that totally makes us sisters-in-law.”
your heart stopped. “keep it down, you psycho,” you hissed, swatting her arm. “you totally hazed me last night. this never would’ve happened if you hadn’t dragged john b along.”
sarah shrugged, not even bothering to hide her grin. “and what now? gonna ditch the club-night stands and get with my brother?” she teased, her tone as light as the smirk she shot you.
“as if,” you scoffed, pouring her another glass of juice. “i’m getting tested for chlamydia after this.”
her brow lifted in mock surprise. “damn, this is a first. usually, the girls beg me to hook them up with rafe.”
you shook your head, wagging a finger at her. “absolutely not. you know me,” you said firmly, and she did. “rafe’s my friend. known him since he was hoarding cereal box comics. so, this? It never happened.”
sarah laughed, leaning back against the counter. “man, he’s totally gonna brag to top and kels,” she said with a mischievous glint. “not everyone gets to nail the kook princess.”
rolling your eyes, you snatched your keys off the counter, leaning in to hug her. “you’re real peachy, aren’t you?” you teased, hand darting down to slap her ass. “i’m out, babe. pick you up tonight for the bonfire?”
“wear something cute,” she called after you, shaking her head with a grin as she watched you leave.
the engine of your corvette roared to life, a deep, satisfying hum that vibrated through your chest and momentarily distracted you from the chaos in your head. you leaned back against the leather seat, gripping the wheel as last night’s events replayed in fragmented flashes. the tequila, the dim haze of rafe’s room, the feel of his hands on your skin—it all came rushing back like a tidal wave, making your cheeks burn with equal parts shame and disbelief.
“what the hell were you thinking?” you muttered, shaking your head as you pulled out of sarah’s driveway.
the quiet streets were still sleepy, the morning sun casting long shadows that danced across the pavement. you drove a few blocks, the rhythmic rumble of the engine filling the silence as you tried to piece everything together. but no matter how hard you tried, it all felt surreal, like something out of a dream you couldn’t quite shake. when you finally pulled into your own driveway, the sight of your familiar front porch brought a strange sense of relief. this was home, your sanctuary—empty for now, thanks to your mother’s work trip. thank god for small miracles; she would’ve flipped her perfectly groomed, suburban lid if she’d seen you walk in smelling like bad decisions and luxury cologne.
sliding out of the car, you groaned softly, your palm meeting your forehead for what felt like the hundredth time. “dumbass,” you whispered again, scolding yourself as you made your way inside.
the house was quiet, sunlight spilling through the windows in soft golden streaks. you kicked off your heels near the door, leaving a trail of discarded items on your way to the bathroom. the cool tile against your bare feet was grounding as you stepped into the shower, twisting the knob until a hot, steamy cascade poured over you. you closed your eyes, letting the water wash away the remnants of last night—the sweat, the guilt, the lingering scent of rafe’s cologne clinging to your skin like a bad memory. your hands worked through your hair, fingers scrubbing at your scalp as you tried to scrub him out of your mind.
but he lingered, even as the water ran clear and you stepped out, wrapping a plush towel around yourself. you moved mechanically, toweling your hair dry before running a brush through the damp strands, blow-drying them until they fell in soft waves around your shoulders. a light layer of makeup followed—just enough to cover the shadows under your eyes and add a touch of color to your lips.
you opened your closet, scanning the rows of neatly hung clothes until your fingers landed on the white sundress. it was simple, elegant, hugging your curves in all the right places while leaving your tan lines exposed—reminding you of sun-soaked days that felt like a lifetime ago. you slipped it on, adjusting the hem before layering yourself with delicate gold jewelry: a thin chain around your neck, dainty hoops, and a few stacked bracelets.
the white heels completed the look, their sleek design elongating your legs as you gave yourself a final once-over in the mirror. you looked put together, polished, even if you felt like a hurricane on the inside.
as you walked back out of the house, locking the door behind you, the corvette gleamed in the driveway. climbing back into the driver’s seat, you started the engine, the rumble a familiar comfort. last night was still a tangle of confusion in your mind, but as you pulled onto the road, you pushed it to the back of your thoughts. you had errands to run, a day to salvage, and a version of yourself to piece back together before anyone else caught on to how close you were to falling apart.
sarah wiped down the countertop with a slow, deliberate motion, her lips curving into a small smile as she thought about you. not with jealousy—she could never bring herself to feel that way about you—but with a kind of admiration that only years of friendship could cultivate. you had always been a force of nature, unpredictable and unrelenting.
you were the girl who punched cindy lopez in the nose for calling sarah stupid in third grade, who bought her her first vogue magazine when her parents refused to indulge her interest in fashion, who never hesitated to stand by her, no matter what. sarah knew, deep down, that nothing could ever truly take you away from her.
“hey.” the familiar voice snapped her out of her thoughts. she turned, her eyes landing on her brother as he sauntered into the kitchen. his hair was tousled, his eyes slightly bloodshot, and his expression unreadable.
“morning,” sarah greeted, fighting the urge to laugh. “some night you had.”
rafe ran a hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze as he moved toward the fridge. “she left,” he stated, his voice flat, though sarah could hear the faint edge to it. “they usually don’t.”
rafe shrugged, grabbing a bottle of water and twisting the cap off. he took a long sip before sitting at the kitchen island, his gaze distant. “yeah, well, she’s a free spirit,” sarah said, leaning against the counter. she studied his face carefully, noticing the subtle tension in his jaw. “you’re cool with that, right?”
“yeah, yeah, yeah,” rafe said quickly, almost too quickly. he shifted in his seat, tapping his fingers against the counter as if to distract himself. “she’s a—she’s a good friend. shouldn’t be too bad.”
sarah tilted her head, suppressing a smirk as she moved some dishes around the sink. “congrats, by the way. you nailed the kildare princess. topper’s totally gonna be jealous.”
rafe raised an eyebrow, finally looking up at her. “top?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes narrowing slightly.
sarah nodded, folding her arms across her chest. “yeah, god, he’s had a crush on her forever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “don’t rub it in too much, though. i was totally rooting for them.”
rafe tapped his foot against the tile, his brows furrowing as he processed this. “yeah? And, uh, how does she feel about him?” he asked, keeping his tone even.
sarah shrugged, pondering the question for a moment. “i have no idea. no one knows what she’s thinking—not even me,” she admitted with a small laugh. “she’s a free spirit, like i said. she doesn’t take guys seriously. guess it has something to do with her dad. whatever it is, a guy couldn’t fix her with two hands and a toolbox, so be grateful she isn’t begging for your attention.”
rafe nodded slowly, her words sinking in. he leaned back in his chair, wiping his face with his hands as he considered what she’d said. it didn’t sit right with him—the way you had left without a second glance, the way you hadn’t even seemed to care about what had happened between you. he was used to a certain kind of response from the girls he spent the night with—flirty texts, coy smiles, maybe even the occasional attempt to cling to him. but you? you’d left like it was nothing, like he was nothing. it bothered him. more than it should have. but rafe cameron had always liked a challenge.
the roar of your corvette’s engine echoed as you pulled into the car wash, your fingers drumming against the steering wheel in a rhythm that betrayed your nerves. the ache in your head hadn’t dulled, and you silently cursed yourself for not grabbing an aspirin before you left the house. a drink sounded tempting too—something strong enough to quiet your thoughts about last night.
as you drove into the bay, a figure approached your car, a man in a black cap pulled low over his brow. his gait was confident, but as he got closer, you noticed the slight hesitation in his step. early twenties, give or take, with sun-kissed skin and broad shoulders, he leaned down to meet your gaze through the window.
“hey, do you need your tires polished—” he stopped mid-sentence, his voice faltering as his eyes widened. recognition lit up his face as his jaw slackened slightly.
“top?” you asked, rolling your window down with a grin.
a smile broke across his face, wide and sheepish, as he tugged the cap off his head, running a hand through his hair. “hey,” he stammered, his voice boyish and endearing. “what are you doing here?”
“i could ask you the same thing,” you replied with a chuckle. “what’s this? early career change?”
he laughed nervously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “nah, it’s my uncle’s shop. just helping him out for the summer,” he explained, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. “it’s, uh, it’s really good to see you.”
you smiled warmly. “it’s good to see you too, top.”
the moment lingered for a beat longer than necessary, his gaze holding yours before he quickly looked away, clearing his throat.
“so, what’s the occasion?” he asked, gesturing to the car.
“just getting her ready for the bonfire tonight,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “won’t take up too much of your time.”
topper shook his head quickly, his grin returning. “you’re not wasting my time,” he said, almost too earnestly. “i’ll get started—on the house.”
you frowned, leaning forward. “come on, top. you know i can pay.”
he waved you off, his grin widening. “yeah, but you won’t.”
you sighed, rolling your eyes playfully. “fine, but i owe you a drink or two tonight.”
“i’ll hold you to that,” he said, his voice lighter, more confident now.
as he turned to get to work, you watched him for a moment, appreciating the way his shoulders moved as he grabbed the hose. he was efficient, his movements precise, but his composure faltered when his eyes drifted back to you through the window. he tried to stay focused, but you caught the way his gaze lingered on your collarbone, the golden jewelry adorning your neck, and the soft curve of the sundress that hugged your body. his jaw tightened as his eyes trailed lower, taking in the tan lines just visible above the hem of your dress. topper had it bad. real bad.
the errands had eaten away your day, the sun already dipping low in the sky by the time you were done. time had flown by faster than you realized, but the anticipation bubbling in your chest made you brush it off. you drove down the familiar block, the hum of the corvette’s engine smoothing your thoughts as you spotted the estate. pulling to the curb, you honked the horn twice, leaning out the window with a grin.
“get in, loser, we’re getting wasted,” you called out, watching as sarah appeared in the doorway, slipping into a pair of sandals.
behind her, rafe hovered like a shadow, his tall frame taking up the doorway. he muttered something to his sister—something about seeing her at the bonfire—but his eyes weren’t on her. they were on you. your stomach twisted, caught between the weight of his gaze and the awkwardness of the situation. shit, what was he supposed to do? wave? say hi? stay quiet? he settled on a wave, though the moment his hand lifted, his confidence faltered. the wave was awkward, hesitant, and he regretted it instantly.
you winced for him, forcing a half-hearted wave back, just as awkward, until the sound of the passenger door slamming shut snapped you out of it.
“romeo, romeo, where art thou, fair romeo?” sarah teased as she tossed herself into the seat, kicking her legs up and reaching for your playlist without hesitation.
“good to see you too, princess,” you mused, rolling your eyes.
she shrugged, her teasing smirk softening as her eyes swept over you, taking in the white sundress that clung to your frame. “you look good,” she said, her tone genuine for once. “you look good in white.”
a smile tugged at your lips as you shifted the car into drive. “you look good in everything,” you shot back smoothly, earning a laugh from her.
the drive to the bonfire was pure summer magic, the kind of ride where the windows were down, and the air smelled like salt and heat. music blared from the speakers as you and sarah sang along, her feet resting on the dashboard as the wind whipped her hair around her face. the sky burned in hues of orange and pink, melting into a deepening blue as the sun dipped lower.
the road opened up to the party grounds, and it was clear the bonfire was just the centerpiece of something much larger. the expansive courtyard buzzed with life, groups of people laughing and chatting, while the glow of string lights gave the scene a warm, golden hue. to the side, a makeshift bar was already busy with activity, and further back, you could see the well-manicured green of a golf field illuminated by soft lighting.
you pulled into valet parking, handing over the keys with practiced ease as sarah slid out of the car beside you. without thinking, your hand dropped to hers, fingers brushing for just a moment before she let out an exaggerated groan.
“oh, god,” she muttered under her breath.
“what?” you asked, already bracing yourself for the mess. seriously, it’s been, what? 10 seconds?
you turned your head and saw him—john b routledge, weaving his way toward you with that signature grin of his. he didn’t even hesitate, wrapping sarah in a hug the moment he reached her.
“hey,” he greeted you casually, though his attention was clearly focused on sarah.
you didn’t reply. instead, you met sarah’s gaze over his shoulder, your expression speaking louder than words. “routledge. mind if i steal her? thanks.” you didn’t even wait for a response.
as he pulled back, you leaned in close to sarah, your voice low enough that only she could hear. “he does or says anything, you get bored, anything goes flat—you call me, text me, i’ll be there, okay?”
she nodded, her lips curving into a smile. “god, you’re the best,” she said, throwing her arms around you for a quick hug.
you shrugged, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “i know.” and then, with a bounce in her step, she was off, disappearing into the crowd with her boyfriend.
the bar wasn’t far, but the walk to it felt like something out of a movie. you didn’t notice it at first—the way heads turned, eyes lingering on you like you’d stepped out of some dream. the last rays of sunlight filtered through the trees and string lights, casting a warm, golden glow that seemed to follow you. It was as if the sun itself had decided to pause, just for a moment, to watch you move through the courtyard.
when you reached the bar, you slid onto one of the stools, crossing your legs and leaning forward just enough to signal that you meant business. the bartender looked up from his station, a knowing smile spreading across his face as he approached.
“miss archibald,” he greeted smoothly, his voice carrying just enough warmth to feel personal but still professional.
of course he knew your name—everyone did. kildare was a small county, and its residents loved their local legends. you’d been a sensation for years, the name whispered with awe and envy, your life dissected by those who had nothing better to do. table dancing in barcelona? they’d seen the photos. a whirlwind fling with a celebrity? they’d read the headlines. you couldn’t decide if the attention was a blessing or a curse.
“hey, trent,” you replied casually, your gaze flicking to his name tag, even though you already knew it.
“what’ll it be tonight?”
“don julio, chilled,” you said, pulling your wallet out with ease. you layered a crisp hundred-dollar bill with a few twenties and then added a little extra for him, sliding it across the counter without a second thought.
he raised an eyebrow but accepted the tip without comment, reaching for the top shelf. “haven’t seen you around in a bit,” he mused as he grabbed the tequila. “get yourself a boyfriend?”
the question made your skin crawl, though you masked it with a polite smile. “not in the slightest,” you replied, your tone light but firm enough to shut the topic down.
he nodded, as if that were the answer he’d expected, and set to work. within moments, he placed a chilled bucket on the counter, along with a neat arrangement of shot glasses, lemon wedges, and salt.
“here you go,” trent said with a grin, stepping back to give you space.
finally, you could relax. you exhaled slowly, letting the buzz of the courtyard fade into the background as you eyed the setup before you. the tequila gleamed like liquid gold in the bucket, and you reached for a glass, savoring the moment. tonight, at least for now, was yours. or so you believed, until you felt a tap on your shoulder. the joy was short-lived.
you turned at the light tap on your shoulder, eyebrows raising in curiosity before your lips curved into a familiar grin. there he was, his blond hair slightly messy, his signature smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “you look like you could use a drinking buddy,” jj maybank said, his voice laced with that casual charm that never failed to make people smile.
you leaned back against the stool, crossing one leg over the other as you looked him over. “what are you doing here, j? still crashing our parties?” you teased, your tone light but warm.
he chuckled, sliding onto the stool beside you, his movements as relaxed as ever. “what can i say? i keep coming back. think it’s for the women,” he shot back, his eyes trailing down to where your legs crossed before flickering back to your face.
“some luck they have,” you replied smoothly, raising an eyebrow as you poured yourself another shot.
jj whistled low as he noticed the bottle. “don julio? act a foolio?” he quipped, grabbing a glass for himself.
you smirked, pouring him a shot. “savor it, maybank. you’re drinking two hundred bucks.”
he laughed, leaning back on the stool and looking skyward. “huh, i thought houses cost that much. or is it just mine? just mine? okay.”
you swatted him lightly on the chest, shaking your head as you laughed. his grin widened, and he leaned closer, resting his elbow on the bar. “how about a drinking game?”
your curiosity piqued, and you raised an eyebrow. “oh, yeah? what’s your angle?”
jj grinned like a cat with a canary. “simple. i take a shot, tell you a secret. you take a shot, tell me a secret. loser has to outdrink the other.”
you stared at him, your lips twitching with amusement. “smooth operator, aren’t you?”
he tilted his head, his grin unfaltering. “when it works, it works.”
you tipped your glass back, the tequila smooth and icy as it slid down your throat. setting it down with a soft clink, you thought for a moment before a sly smile spread across your lips. “alright, remember last summer when i went to spain? that article about my celebrity hookup?”
jj nodded, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. “oh, hell yeah. don’t tell me it was a kardashian or some shit.”
you smirked, leaning in slightly. “pablo gavira. nightclub. barcelona.”
his jaw dropped, and then he burst into laughter, slapping the bartop. “holy shit, congrats, it girl. you lived the dream of every fourteen-year-old girl out there!”
you rolled your eyes, a laugh escaping your lips. “shut up, you ass. your turn,” you urged, gesturing for him to take his shot.
jj grinned, taking the glass and throwing back the tequila in one swift motion. as he set the glass down, he leaned in closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially. “okay, remember last month when john b’s board mysteriously went missing?”
you groaned, already sensing trouble. “jj, what did you do?”
he shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “sold it to a tourist for three hundred. used the cash to buy everyone drinks at the wreck. including your best friend, by the way.”
your eyes widened in mock horror. “diabolical.”
he laughed, that carefree sound that was so uniquely him. “hey, the guy wanted something ‘authentic.’ i gave him authentic.”
you shook your head, pouring another round. “you’re the worst, maybank.”
“and yet, here you are,” he teased, his grin infectious as he raised his glass for another round.
you stared down the shot glass, your mind racing for a secret that would blow jj’s offbeat humor right out of the water. you had your reputation—hell, you had a treasure chest full of scandals to pull from. but this? this had to be a knockout. something so jaw-dropping, so absolutely wrong that it would leave even jj maybank momentarily speechless. and then it hit you.
you set the glass down with a soft clink, leaning toward him, your lips curling into a devious grin. “guess who i slept with last night.”
his head snapped toward you, his interest piqued as he leaned in, matching your grin with his own. “sarah,” he shot back instantly, smirking like he already knew the answer.
you rolled your eyes, swatting his arm. “i wish,” you groaned dramatically. then, you paused for effect, letting the tension build before delivering the bombshell. “rafe.”
jj froze. for a moment, it was as if his entire system short-circuited, his jaw dropping in an expression that was equal parts horror and hilarity. then he hissed, bursting into uncontrollable laughter. “you’re joking,” he choked out between gasps, his face twisting in disbelief.
you shook your head solemnly, a hand over your heart. “i wish i was. i was drunk, he was high. it just happened.”
he leaned back, clutching his stomach as he cackled. “and they say romance is dead,” he wheezed before shaking his head in mock disapproval. “dude, you had sex with your friend. big no-no. and your friend is a total whore. what if he caught feelings? you be up for a change of pace?”
you nearly choked on the air you inhaled too sharply. “big no,” you said firmly, your voice rising slightly. “and with that psycho? he’d snap my neck in a heartbeat if he was coked up enough.”
jj shrugged nonchalantly, taking another sip of tequila. “that’s your type, though. let’s face it. you like ‘em hot and stupid, and that’s all rafe is.” he broke into another fit of laughter, the image clearly amusing him to no end.
you narrowed your eyes, leaning toward him. “hey, i don’t go for psychopaths that shoot cops, dude.”
jj winced, his head swiveling as he glanced around. “allegedly,” he corrected, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “not so loud, psycho. besides, you like your men deranged.”
you scoffed, throwing back another shot. “yeah, that’s what I need. a strung-out psycho blasting big syke while he beats my ass.”
jj’s laughter came to an abrupt halt as he stared at you, his brow furrowed in mock thought. “really? pegged him more as a tupac kind of guy.”
you chuckled, leaning in close with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “you know, i should fix him up. do some psychoanalysis-type shit. make him a good boy,” you joked.
jj nearly fell off his stool, laughing so hard that tears pricked the corners of his eyes. “is that it, bob the builder? you wanna fix me up next?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.
you cooed, shaking your head as you rested a hand on his shoulder. “no way, babe. i like you just the way you are. damaged goods.”
he faked a gasp, clutching his chest as if you’d physically wounded him. “who said these goods were damaged?”
“your track record,” came a voice behind you.
you froze, your entire body stiffening at the familiar sound. slowly, almost as if you could delay the inevitable, you turned in your seat, dreading the sight you knew you’d find. and there he was. his expression was unreadable, a mix of calm and something far darker lurking just beneath the surface. those piercing blue eyes bore into you, not leaving yours for a second.
jj let out a low whistle under his breath, muttering, “well, shit.”
you forced a polite smile as you turned to face him, though the tension in the air was as palpable as the heat rising in the room. “hey,” you greeted, trying to diffuse the moment with your usual charm.
you leaned forward to give him a quick hug, a friendly one, but as your arms wrapped around him, you could feel the shift in his breath, the way it caught in his throat as he inhaled deeply. his chest rose and fell just a little too sharply, his lips brushing the side of your neck as you pulled back. that warm, expensive scent of yours seemed to linger in the air, and for a brief moment, you thought you might have made things a bit too personal between the two of you.
but then, you pulled away, turning to greet the others, pushing the awkwardness aside. topper and kelce were already there, practically vibrating with excitement. you smiled and reached out to hug them both. “top, kels,” you said warmly. “you guys want a drink?”
kelce’s grin stretched wide, his enthusiasm unmistakable. “shit, don julio? there’s our money maker,” he cheered, sliding into one of the stools like it was his own personal throne.
topper, on the other hand, didn’t look as enthused anymore. his eyes flickered, darting between you and jj, the conflict visible in the furrow of his brow. you caught the shift, but decided to address it in a way that wouldn’t rock the boat too much.
rafe’s voice sliced through the silence, sharp and demanding. “what’s the pogue doing here?”
jj raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin pulling at his lips. “don’t shoot, just came for a drink,” he teased, the smirk never wavering from his face.
topper shot him a look, one that practically oozed disdain, his tone a little too biting as he quipped, “yeah, we can see that.” he slid a glance at you, his eyes flickering between the two of you. “bar’s full of stools. sit somewhere else.”
the words stung, but jj shrugged them off with practiced ease as you threw an arm around his shoulders as if to claim him as your own for the moment. “you guys are way too sober,” you joked, giving them a mock warning. “be nice.”
jj’s eyes briefly met rafe’s, just a flicker of something passing between them, something loaded with a challenge. and for that brief second, it was like the world stood still, the air thick with competition. but then jj’s smirk widened, and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you just a little closer to him. “some friends you have,” he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcastic amusement. “haven’t even complimented your dress.”
rafe’s jaw clenched, but he held his ground. he didn’t even know why he was angry, but the sight of jj with his arm around you was a slap in the face. he wanted to believe that it was because jj was a pogue, on kook territory, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.
“the dress is beautiful, looks great on her, probably real expensive,” rafe said, his voice suddenly tight, eyes flicking pointedly to where jj’s arm was draped around you. “so get your dirty-ass pogue hands off it.”
the words hit hard, but you weren’t about to let the tension build any further. raising both your hands in a surrendering gesture, you rolled your eyes. “okay, rafe, enough. we get it, he’s a pogue,” you said, your tone light but firm. “just chill out.”
rafe scoffed, a bitter edge to his laugh. as he passed by you, he paused and slammed his shoulder against jj’s, the force enough to make the stool wobble. he shot a look over his shoulder, his gaze hard. “paparazzi’s out in front,” he said, his words dripping with something darker. “try not to get sloppy.” ouch.
the air grew heavier as the boys found their places at the bar, settling down on the stools opposite you. you could feel their eyes on you, heavy and lingering, like they were trying to decipher something beneath the surface. kelce groaned, and the sound was unmistakable—hunger, wrapped in something almost reverential. his eyes raked over you, from your heels all the way up to the way your hair cascaded down your back, messy but perfectly styled.
“she looks fly as hell,” he muttered, swishing his beer bottle absentmindedly. his gaze dropped lower. “legs like that could give victoria's secret a run for their money.”
topper scoffed and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, turning to kelce with a sharp look. “dude, back off,” he snapped, though there was a flicker of agreement in his eyes. he glanced at rafe, who was quietly sipping his own beer, a glint of something darker in his gaze.
rafe rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. he slouched back in his stool, taking another swig from his bottle. “you guys are cracked out,” he muttered dismissively, but then he added something they weren’t expecting. “that’s a low-value woman.”
“what the fuck did you say?” topper shot up, his voice harsh, his fist slamming the bottle down onto the counter with a force that startled a few patrons nearby. the shock in his voice was palpable, and even kelce's usual laid-back demeanor had faltered.
rafe shrugged nonchalantly, his demeanor almost too calm for what he had just said. “you’ve read the articles. she likes the attention. jumping from one guy to another, type shit,” he said, his words clipped, colder than the beer in his hand.
kelce and topper exchanged a glance, their confusion turning to something more, but kelce was the first to speak. “she’s our friend, dude,” he said, his voice lower now, softer. he paused before adding, “and besides, what does that make you? hazardous waste disposal in your pants.” kelce dapped topper up, short and quick.
rafe scoffed, the sound harsh as he ran a hand through his hair, the aggression simmering just under the surface. he looked over at the two of them, a hint of mockery curling his lips. “shoot your shot then, top,” he taunted, raising his bottle in a mocking toast. “let’s see how you’ll feel when you see her flashing the paparazzi.”
topper’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring slightly, but the tension wasn’t just between him and rafe anymore. he could feel it, the way the balance was starting to shift. and for a split second, you caught rafe’s gaze flicking over toward you. it wasn’t subtle, the way his eyes followed you, the way they locked onto the easy intimacy you shared with jj. the hand on your thigh, your smile—as if you didn’t have sex with him the night before. and for a moment, just a fleeting moment, rafe seemed to tighten, like a rope pulled too taut.
before it could build into something more, rafe exhaled, the tension in his shoulders giving way slightly. his eyes softened for a brief second before his face hardened again, and he slapped a hand onto topper and kelce’s backs, breaking the thick silence.
“come on,” he finally muttered, the words almost too quiet to catch, his voice rough, but there was a finality to it. “let’s get laid.”
the night blurred together in a haze of tequila, smoke, and too many shallow breaths. the bottle of tequila was gone—an impressive feat, even for you—but the dull ache in your skull and the growing warmth in your chest only made you crave more. you’d been warned, right? rafe had said it, the same way they always did, but his words bounced off you like the cheap music playing overhead. you thought of him dancing with the girl, the way he smiled, fake and carefree. the kind of smile that had always made you ache before you started pretending it didn’t. the thing was, he was just like you, right? just another person trying to fill a hole, trying to make sense of it all. but there was no humor in it when you smiled at him from across the room, only condescension.
you turned your back on him and back to jj. he was leaning back in his chair, lazily flipping the joint between his fingers. the dim light from the courtyard highlighted the sharp lines of his face, the messiness of his hair, and the careless way he seemed to fit into his world. you didn’t think you’d ever met someone who wore chaos like that, but there was something almost magnetic about it. he caught your eye and smirked as he took the joint from his lips.
“oh, you shouldn’t have,” you cooed, leaning in and snatching it from him, pressing it to your own lips. you didn’t need his permission, not anymore. you hadn’t needed it for a long time.
“major pretty privilege,” jj teased, his voice low but amused. “totally would've kicked your ass if you weren't—” he let the sentence trail off as you took a long drag, eyes narrowing as the smoke curled between your lips and into the air.
you exhaled slowly, the smoke filling your lungs with a warmth that dulled everything else. “i’m a scandal away from a nose job,” you mused, half laughing as you watched him.
he grinned, raising an eyebrow as his hand casually rested on your thigh. “i wouldn’t be so quick to joke about that,” he said with a smirk. but there was something softer in his voice, almost like he was trying to keep the conversation light. it didn’t matter. it never did.
you leaned back, staring at the stars above you, but it was hard to focus on them. the weight in your chest grew heavier, suffocating, like the world was closing in. you hated how it felt. how much you wanted to simply not exist, to disappear, even if only for a moment. you wanted to leave your body behind, to step outside of this mess you called life and pretend you were someone else. someone who didn’t need any of this, someone who didn’t feel like they were drowning in the way their own heart beat.
jj watched you, the flickering glow of the joint between his fingers casting shadows on his face. “lost in thought, princess?” his voice pulled you back into the moment. “already tapping out?”
you forced a smile, shaking your head as you took another hit from the joint. “the night is young,” you said, your words a little more slurred now, but that didn’t matter. nothing mattered except the rhythm of the music and the way your heart felt like it was pounding in sync with the bass.
somehow, that was how you ended up pressed up against him in the courtyard, your body swaying with his, your hips grinding against his front. his hands were on your waist, holding you tightly as if he didn’t care about anything else. you could feel the heat between you, thick and intoxicating, and you didn’t even have to think about it. the rest of the world? it didn’t matter. you could feel the eyes of others on you—the way their gazes flicked over you and jj, maybe in appreciation, maybe in jealousy. it didn’t matter. all you cared about was this moment, this feeling of losing yourself.
jj groaned, his breath warm against your ear as his lips brushed the skin just beneath it. “you’re asking for trouble,” he whispered, his voice rough with something you couldn’t quite place.
“i know what i’m asking for,” you replied, your voice low as you pressed harder against him. his hands tightened on your hips, squeezing in a way that made your head spin, your breath catching in your throat.
and yet, far away from you, there was rafe. his hands were wrapped around another girl, his eyes dark and distant. he didn’t know her—hell, he didn’t care to—but he had her close, like a shield, something to keep the world at bay. and still, his gaze drifted toward you, the same way it always did. you were just a magnet for him, weren’t you? the pull between you both was a constant, but tonight, it felt different. as his eyes locked onto yours, watching you dance with jj, something shifted. his stomach churned uncomfortably, the world spinning in a way that had nothing to do with the alcohol. how could you be so shameless?
rafe’s thoughts turned bitter as his eyes flicked over your body, watching you grind against jj in a way that made his jaw tighten, but he couldn’t look away. you were impossible. you didn’t give a shit about the rules. you were different. how had you not crumbled under the weight of it all? you were spinning out of control, and somehow, that made you even more dangerous. he wanted to stop watching, wanted to tear his gaze away from you. but something inside him wouldn't let him. he couldn’t understand you. not now, not ever. and so he just watched. because that was all he could do.
the air in the bathroom felt thick with heat, suffocating, and charged with an electricity that had been building between you and jj all night. you barely had time to process it before you were pinned against the wall, his hands keeping your arms pressed against the cold tile as his lips moved urgently against yours. the sound of his soft grunt vibrated between you both as he kissed you deeper, a teasing hunger in his touch that matched the fire burning inside you.
you could feel the hard, insistent press of his dick against your knee, the way your body seemed to react of its own accord. without thinking, you pushed your knee upward, letting it graze against him, offering him just enough friction to make him groan lowly, his grip on you tightening in response.
the moment was stolen, heat building between you both in a whirl of urgency, until he suddenly released your hands, his arms lifting you up effortlessly. you gasped slightly as he placed you on the edge of the sink, his strong hands spreading your thighs, pulling your hips closer to his as his lips trailed down your neck. the sensation of his breath against your skin made you shiver, and you let out a soft whimper, your fingers finding refuge in his hair, pulling him closer.
his teeth grazed your neck in the most tantalizing way, making your head spin. “should’ve done this a long time ago,” he murmured between soft kisses, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, but there was a subtle hunger in his voice that made your heart race.
you tilted your head back, trying to steady yourself, letting out a breathless laugh as you tugged his hair, forcing him to look up at you. “yeah? should’ve asked nicely. i’m a nice girl.”
his lips curled into a wicked grin, and he leaned closer, his voice dropping lower as he spoke. “real nice girl. nice girls like you get rewards.” the sound of his voice, the heat in his words, almost made you forget everything else. you felt his hands press into your ass, squeezing, fingers teasing the soft flesh of your inner thighs.
but then, just as quickly as the moment had built, it all came crashing down with an unpleasant, distinctly loud sound—a harsh gag, followed by the unmistakable sound of someone throwing up. you both froze, the spell broken, and for a moment, you felt disoriented as reality quickly snapped back into place. you heard the retching, the splashing of liquid against porcelain.
“rafe?” you called out, your voice tentative, already bracing yourself for the inevitable. you stepped away from jj, quickly pulling the straps of your dress back up. “you okay?”
you found him hunched over the toilet, his face pale, sweat slicking his skin as he heaved. the sight of him was almost comical, in a way, but you couldn’t bring yourself to laugh. you rushed over to him, placing a hand on his back to steady him. he was breathing heavily, but still had enough energy to shoot you a look.
“peachy,” he grimaced, sarcasm dripping from his words as he threw up again.
you sighed, looking over at jj, who was still lingering by the doorway. he caught your eye, and you didn’t need to say anything. he gave a small, understanding nod. “i’ll call you,” he said, his tone soft, but there was a lingering playfulness to his words. you wanted to say something in response, something like “please don’t,” but the words stuck in your throat. the moment felt too fragile, too much of a mess for you to handle right now. rafe noticed the unspoken exchange, and his mood soured even more. he wiped his mouth, scoffing.
“real classy, man,” rafe spat, his voice hoarse.
you rolled your eyes, unfazed by his usual grumbling. “glad to know you're well enough to fight,” you shot back, grabbing a paper towel to wet it and gently wiping his mouth. he shook his head and pushed your hand away. “you gotta go home, man.”
“no way,” he muttered, groaning as he leaned back against the wall. “top and kels are still here. i’m not leaving.”
you tossed the paper towel into the trash, exhaling in frustration. “i’ll take them home too,” you countered.
he groaned again, looking like he might pass out right there. “oh, great, you're driving. so that's two felonies—drunk driving and kidnapping.”
you smiled coyly, stepping back. “you know a lot about felonies, do you?”
he waved you off dismissively, rolling his eyes. “whatever. do what you want.”
you stared at him for a moment, but his behavior still felt off. he wasn’t usually this combative, not with you. it was like he couldn’t decide whether to fight you or something else. whatever it was, you didn’t care. “prick,” you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him. he didn’t respond, and you didn’t press him further. you weren’t in the mood for his antics anymore.
you sat behind the wheel of your corvette, the engine humming beneath you, but all you could hear was the muffled noise of the others in the backseat. the car felt too small, the air too thick, the silence between you all almost unbearable. you could feel the alcohol coursing through your veins, making your thoughts a little foggy, your senses dull. the weight of the situation was starting to settle, but it didn’t matter—you still had to get them home, and you could barely keep your eyes focused on the road.
“this is such a bad idea,” sarah muttered from the passenger seat, her words slurring just slightly as she leaned back, clutching the seatbelt. “you’re literally wasted.”
you shot her a look, shrugging carelessly as you kept your eyes on the road. you knew she was right, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. this was the least of your problems.
“you’re fine,” kelce said from the back, his voice louder than necessary, “i don’t doubt you, never doubted you.” he cut himself off with a gag, and you could hear the way his stomach lurched behind you.
god, they were a mess. none of them could handle their liquor, and here you were, playing the designated driver in the middle of a blackout night. you glanced at them in the rearview mirror, seeing them in the back, all sprawled out and disoriented. they looked like three little kids leaving a birthday party, unsure of where to go next, lost in their own drunken stupor.
“thanks for driving us home,” topper said, smiling at you, his head tilted back against the headrest despite the way his stomach was clearly protesting the ride.
rafe rolled his eyes and sneered from his seat behind you. “grease her feet while you’re at it,” he snapped.
topper turned toward him with a quick retort. “how about i break yours?” he slurred, half-smiling through the haze of his drunkenness.
rafe, wincing in pain from the aftermath of whatever he had consumed, sat up straighter. “bring it on, man,” he spat, still looking for a fight.
kelce groaned from next to them, exasperated. “shut up, macklemore,” he sneered at rafe, before turning back to topper. “you too, vanilla ice—” but he barely finished before letting out a shrill scream, his body jolting forward as you hit the gas, your car lurching forward onto the main road. the backseat erupted.
“man, let go off me,” topper grumbled, trying to push kelce’s hand away as he clung to his shirt for dear life.
sarah rolled her eyes. “i can't believe you have to babysit them,” she muttered, her voice dripping with frustration.
you didn’t reply, instead giving the steering wheel another firm grip as you swerved slightly, the backseat falling into even more disarray. the chaos from behind you was nothing but white noise as you tried to focus on the road. you couldn’t let your mind wander.
“nothing better to do,” you said, your tone flat, not caring about the joke.
rafe scoffed loudly from the back, clearly trying to provoke you. “what? lose your two minutes in heaven with the pogue?”
you didn’t respond, your eyes flicking briefly to the rearview mirror. rafe’s gaze met yours, and something dark flickered in his eyes—something you couldn’t place. you didn’t have time for it, though, the weight of his words sinking in despite your attempt to block them out. your knuckles tightened around the steering wheel. it wasn’t long before you reached the final drop-off point, and you dropped topper and kelce off at their places first. you could still feel the tension in the air, thick and uncomfortable, but it didn’t seem to matter to anyone.
when it was just you and rafe left, the silence between you both was more apparent. you turned to sarah, giving her a brief, tight hug before she slipped out of the car, but your eyes didn’t leave rafe.
"feel better, rafe," you said, your voice soft, a fake warmth in your tone as you held his gaze in the mirror.
he froze. he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. his eyes remained locked on you for just a moment longer before he gave a brief, wordless nod. the moment lingered. without another word, you pulled out of the driveway and made your way back home.
when you arrived, it was the same familiar emptiness. the house felt suffocating, like the walls were closing in around you. the silence settled in like an old friend, but one you weren’t sure you wanted to have a conversation with. sometimes, you’d pretend your mom was upstairs, tucked away in her room instead of on another work trip—if that’s what you could call it. sometimes, you’d talk to your dad, even though you knew he wasn’t going to respond. you’d still say “hey,” because maybe, just maybe, one day, he would answer.
but tonight was different. tonight, you didn’t feel like pretending. you didn’t feel like escaping. you made your way to the bathroom, needing the comfort of your routine. you wiped the makeup off your face, the familiar motions grounding you for a moment, but even the sound of the wipes against your skin couldn’t drown out the noise inside your head. you checked the mark that jj had left on your neck. it felt like a different lifetime, like a fleeting moment that you could barely remember now. but the silence. it was deafening.
you wiped the makeup off, but the tears came anyway, falling silently as you let the weight of the night hit you. it felt impossible to stop them, as if the floodgates had opened and you couldn’t close them. the tears fell in quiet streams as you stared at yourself in the mirror, a stranger looking back at you. you wondered what her name was, what her favorite color was. she looked younger, more natural, like time hadn’t worn her out yet, like she was still someone’s little girl.
you woke up to the harsh sunlight filtering through your curtains, a dull headache pounding in your temples like a steady drumbeat. the scent of stale alcohol lingered in the air, a reminder of the night before, as your eyes fluttered open with a groggy resistance. you groaned, the pain in your head intensifying as you sat up slowly, trying to collect yourself.
it was always like this—late, a raging hangover, the world around you still spinning as if mocking your every move. you pulled the blanket around you tighter, wishing for another few hours of sleep, but the persistent ringing of your phone yanked you out of the haze. your hand fumbled for the device, the familiar vibrations like an intrusion into the fragile stillness you had been trying to create.
you squinted at the screen, the name blinking in front of you. you inhaled sharply, before reluctantly swiping to answer. “mom?” you called out, your voice raspy from the sleep, the headache still making it hard to focus.
“baby? hey, baby! happy birthday!” your mother’s voice was loud and cheerful, cutting through the background noise of what sounded like a party. you could hear the sound of waves crashing, glasses clinking, and the unmistakable hum of conversation. “hey, what’s going on?” she continued, trying to speak over the noise.
you felt a pit in your stomach. “nothing, just woke up,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes as you leaned back against the pillows, a dull ache forming in your chest. “how’ve you been?”
she laughed in response, the sound of her happiness so sharp and out of place compared to the hollow feeling gnawing at you. “just great, baby. you get the birthday money i sent you? only the best for my girl.” her words were bright, carefree.
you blinked, the mention of the money momentarily pulling you from your thoughts. “no, i’ll check, thanks, mom,” you said softly, not really hearing her anymore. you bit your lip, then hesitated. “have you—have you called him yet? to ask if he’ll come? for my birthday.”
there was a long silence, and for a moment, you wondered if she’d heard you. but then she spoke again, the change in her tone so subtle you almost missed it. “honey,” she started, her voice lowering just slightly. “honey, it’s just not gonna happen. said he had things going on, i’m sorry.”
the words stung in a way you hadn’t been prepared for. your chest tightened, but your eyes were dry—no tears would come, not today. not after all the times you’d convinced yourself it would be different. it was just another year of empty promises. another year of waiting.
“it’s okay, mom,” you said, your voice small. “no, i get it. he’s busy.” the words left your mouth, but they felt hollow, like you were trying to convince yourself of something you knew wasn’t true.
she continued, not noticing the shift in your tone. “hey, but i saw the news! you looked great in the dress, baby, i’ll send you another one—” she rambled on, her words falling on deaf ears. you didn’t hear her anymore, lost in the quiet thrum of disappointment that had settled deep within your chest.
you blinked rapidly, trying to push down the tightness in your throat, the dull ache in your chest threatening to spill over. “that’s great, mom,” you said quickly, forcing a smile that felt foreign on your face. “i gotta go. love you.”
before she could respond, you hung up. for a few moments, you just sat there, staring at the screen of your phone as if hoping it would change. maybe she’d call back. maybe your dad would come through. but you knew, deep down, that wasn’t going to happen. he wasn’t coming. maybe you shouldn’t have expected anything. maybe you should’ve extinguished that spark of hope before it could set you ablaze. but you didn’t. you never did. and it hurt more than you were willing to admit.
the car hummed beneath you as you drove through the familiar streets, the sound of tires on asphalt a low, constant rhythm. you had spent hours getting ready, the weight of the day pressing against you as you meticulously chose the outfit—a gold bodycon dress that clung to your curves, hugging every inch of your form, a golden strap resting around your neck shimmered in the fading light. you had layered the gold more subtly than yesterday, but it still caught the eye with its gleam, like a whisper of elegance in the dim evening light. your heels clicked sharply against the floor of your car as you shifted, checking your reflection one last time, the gold dress and matching shoes completing the look, but still, you felt incomplete. your hair cascaded down your back, and you’d carefully applied just enough makeup to cover the evidence of the tears you’d shed.
the drive to the estate was quiet, almost like the calm before the storm. by the time you pulled up to the house, the sun had nearly dipped below the horizon, the deep hues of nightfall creeping in. you sat there for a moment, the engine idling as you stared ahead, thinking about the emptiness that seemed to grow inside of you the longer you sat there.
you finally exhaled, pushing open the door and stepping out. the cool air hit you, making the tightness in your chest feel a little more unbearable. as you walked up the driveway, your heels clicking on the pavement, you saw him—rafe—leaning against the porch railing, his eyes trained on you as soon as you approached. his usual smirk spread across his face, but it was tinged with something else, something more curious as he took in your appearance.
“a little overdressed for mass, aren't you?” he quipped, his voice light, though his gaze was anything but. his eyes moved over the gold dress, the way it hugged you in all the right places, and you could feel the weight of his attention on you like a physical thing.
you didn’t respond at first, not sure how to react to his gaze, which lingered on you longer than usual. a breath caught in your throat, but you pushed it away, continuing toward the door. you had more important things to do tonight than engage with him. you just needed to get through this—this night, this birthday, everything. rafe, however, wasn’t about to let you go so easily. as you reached for the door, he stood up, pushing himself off the railing to block your path.
“happy birthday,” he said, the words soft now, an unfamiliar sincerity in his tone.
you paused, looking at him, feeling the weight of the moment as his eyes searched yours. “thanks,” you muttered, your voice flat. “you, top, and kels gonna join us tonight?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as if the question was casual, but there was an edge to it.
he raised an eyebrow. “where to?”
you shrugged, playing it off, though the emptiness inside you made it harder to keep the facade up. “viva, around nine. no big deal.”
his expression shifted, impressed but masking it behind a sardonically raised brow. “not even i can get into that joint. guess the people love you,” he said, his tone more biting now.
you nodded, unsure of what else to say, unsure of what to do. you just stood there, your eyes caught in his. something about the way he looked at you, a mixture of curiosity and something darker, made you feel exposed, like he could see right through you.
“we’ll be there,” he added after a moment, something less than a smile curling at the edges of his lips. it wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t mocking either. just something different. you smiled back, but it was small, uncertain. you nodded, stepping past him and into the house. the air felt colder inside, the silence pressing against you like a weight you couldn’t shake.
you made your way upstairs, your heels clicking on the hardwood as you walked toward sarah’s room. the door was slightly ajar, and when you pushed it open, you found her sitting on her bed, scrolling through her phone. the moment she saw you, her face lit up with a smile that could have rivaled the sun, and before you knew it, she was up and wrapping her arms around you, pulling you in tightly.
“happy birthday, baby,” she whispered, burying her head in the crook of your neck, her warmth a stark contrast to the coldness you felt inside. “we’ll make it your best, i promise.”
for a moment, you let yourself melt into the embrace, letting the love and care from her soak through you. but as she pulled back, her hands taking yours with a smile, her eyes caught sight of something. her expression shifted, the smile fading as she noticed the wetness in your eyes.
“baby, what’s wrong?” she asked softly, her voice suddenly laced with concern.
you shook your head, trying to push the tears away, but they came anyway. you squeezed her hands tightly, the words barely able to escape your lips. “he’s not coming, sarah,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you felt the weight of the truth hit you. “my dad’s not coming.”
her face fell instantly, her arms wrapping around you again as she pulled you in closer. “it’s okay, it’s okay,” she whispered over and over, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “i got you, you’ll be okay. you’re alright.”
but the words didn’t stop the tears. they spilled freely now, hot and relentless, as sarah held you tight, her presence the only thing anchoring you in the moment. you let yourself cry, the weight of everything you had been holding in finally coming to the surface.
unbeknownst to either of you, rafe stood frozen just outside the door, his back pressed against the wall as he listened. he bit his nail, his gaze fixed on the ground, but his mind was far away. the sound of your sobs tugged at something inside him—something raw, something human. and in that moment, he understood. no one acted out for no reason. no one. and now he knew why you did.
the night air was thick, heavy, as you stepped into the car. rafe was already in the passenger seat, his posture rigid, jaw tight. you settled into the driver’s seat, your fingers trembling slightly as they wrapped around the steering wheel. the silence between the two of you was suffocating, the kind that crawled under your skin and festered, making every breath feel labored. you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, his profile sharp in the dim light, his eyes staring ahead, unseeing, yet somehow deeply observant.
the quiet stretched on, and neither of you moved to break it. the air felt like it might crack under the weight of unspoken words, until finally, he did. “we don’t have to go to the club tonight,” he said, his voice low but firm, cutting through the stillness like a knife.
you turned your head slightly, your brow furrowing as his words hung in the air between you. he didn’t elaborate, but he didn’t need to. you knew exactly what he meant. why go? why waste your birthday in a haze of liquor and music, knowing you’d wake up tomorrow with nothing but a pounding headache and a hollow ache in your chest? why numb yourself, knowing it wouldn’t work?
“i can’t,” you murmured, your voice soft, almost fragile.
he nodded, understanding in a way that made your stomach churn. it wasn’t that you wanted to go. it wasn’t even that you needed to go. but you couldn’t not go. you couldn’t sit in the house and let the quiet consume you, couldn’t face the crushing reality of what the day symbolized. rafe opened his mouth, as if to say something else, but the back door opened before he could. sarah slid into the seat, her presence immediately filling the space with a warmth that felt like a lifeline. she reached over, placing a comforting hand on your thigh and offering a smile—gentle, knowing, as if she could read every thought swirling in your head.
“it’s gonna be okay,” she said simply, her voice soft yet steady, like she believed it enough for the both of you.
and somehow, it was enough. you felt your lips twitch into a small smile, a flicker of gratitude in your chest as you nodded and turned the key in the ignition. the engine roared to life, and the car hummed beneath you as you pulled out of the driveway, the night stretching out before you like a promise and a threat all at once. the drive to the club was quiet, save for the occasional hum of the engine and the muted chatter from sarah’s phone. by the time you reached the club, the neon lights were already casting their glow across the pavement, painting the night in shades of electric blue and pink. kelce and topper were waiting near the entrance, their figures silhouetted against the vibrant backdrop.
kelce was the first to approach, a wide grin on his face as he spread his arms dramatically. “it’s yo’ birthday, so i know you want to ri-i-ide out,” he sang, his voice teasing as he reached out to pull you into a bear hug.
you rolled your eyes, swatting at his chest as you laughed despite yourself. “you’re an idiot,” you muttered, but there was a warmth in your tone that hadn’t been there before.
topper was next, stepping forward with a nervous smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. he hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms around you, his hug softer, more tentative. “you look really, really good,” he whispered, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “happy birthday, doll.”
you pulled back just enough to smile up at him, your expression genuine, if a little tired. but as you met his gaze, you felt the weight of another stare burning into your back. rafe stood a few steps behind you, his posture tense, his fists clenched at his sides. his jaw worked as he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes narrowing as they flicked between you and topper. the look on his face was unreadable, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.
he could feel his blood boiling, the vein in his neck throbbing as he watched you smile at topper. he doesn’t get it, rafe thought bitterly. he doesn’t understand.
topper couldn’t see you the way rafe did. he couldn’t pick apart the pieces of you that you tried so desperately to hide, couldn’t reach into the deepest, darkest corners of your mind and pull out the things you were too afraid to face. topper didn’t know you like rafe did. he didn’t understand you. and the worst part? there was nothing rafe could do about it. not here, not now. so he shoved his hands into his pockets, his jaw tightening as he followed behind the group, his eyes never leaving your back as you made your way into the club. the music hit you like a wave the moment you stepped inside, the bass vibrating through your chest as the lights flashed in time with the rhythm.
the bouncer led your group through the heart of the club, weaving past packed tables and the glowing bar, where patrons leaned in to shout orders over the pounding music. the vip section was tucked into a quieter corner, though still pulsating with energy. elevated above the main floor, it offered an unobstructed view of the dancefloor below, with plush, leather seating that curved around a sleek glass table illuminated by soft, golden lighting. bottles of premium spirits and mixers lined the backlit shelves behind the bar like trophies, and the hum of wealth and exclusivity hung in the air.
kelce let out a low whistle as he plopped onto one of the couches, sprawling out like he owned the place. “man, i feel my trust fund going through withdrawals just standing here,” he quipped, nudging topper, who laughed as he leaned back, his eyes scanning the room.
you couldn’t help but smile at their antics as you took it all in. the place was opulent, a temple to indulgence and excess, and for a brief moment, it was easy to forget the ache in your chest. the bartender approached your section, a polished man in a crisp shirt and tie, his movements smooth and practiced.
you straightened your posture and glanced around at the group, a grin tugging at the corners of your lips. “so,” you said, clapping your hands together lightly. “what are we drinking? my treat.”
the others stared at you, surprised. sarah raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed over her chest. “shouldn’t we be treating you?” she asked, her tone laced with concern.
you waved her off with a dismissive gesture. “as if, guys. this place is expensive, it’s fine,” you replied, brushing off her words as though they were nothing.
but rafe’s gaze darkened, his jaw clenching as he watched the interaction. it wasn’t fine. he could see it so clearly—the way you were trying to bury your pain beneath lavish distractions, throwing money around as if the hole in your wallet could somehow fill the one in your heart.
you didn’t wait for their protests, turning to the bartender with a confident smile. “chilled bucket,” you began, your tone even and composed, “we’ll do grey goose, nolet’s reserve, and some vodka sodas.”
as you reached into your purse and handed him your credit card, his eyes flicked over you appreciatively, lingering on the way your gold dress shimmered under the dim lights. “real big fan,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “dress is amazing, miss archibald.”
you forced a polite smile, nodding briefly as he walked away with your card. kelce and topper exchanged a knowing glance, their expressions a mix of amusement and curiosity, but rafe wasn’t laughing.
“that’s almost a grand you just spent,” he muttered, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the music.
you turned to him, your expression neutral. “it’s okay,” you said softly, as though repeating it might make it true. “just for tonight.” but he saw through you. he always did.
to everyone else, it might have seemed like you were simply indulging in the luxury the night demanded. but rafe knew better. he’d seen this pattern before—women in his orbit spending money as a salve for something deeper, using extravagance to mask emptiness. he’d always dismissed it as shallow, as meaningless. there was nothing to search for beneath their bold lipstick and sun-kissed skin, no hidden depths to uncover. but not with you. there was something beneath the surface of your carefully curated façade, something raw and real that you couldn’t quite hide. and it gnawed at him, this feeling of wanting to understand you, to know the truth of who you were behind the gold dress and the polite smiles. he didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but it was there, simmering beneath the surface like an itch he couldn’t scratch.
as the bartender returned with the drinks, setting them on the table with practiced ease, you picked up a vodka soda and raised it in a silent toast, your eyes flicking between the group with a small smile. “to tonight,” you said, your voice steady, though your eyes betrayed the storm brewing inside. everyone raised their glasses in response, cheers erupting as they leaned into the moment. but rafe stayed quiet, his gaze lingering on you, wondering if he’d ever get close enough to see the truth beneath the gold.
the energy was contagious, almost. the ambient bass thumped through the plush leather seats, rattling glasses on the illuminated table. laughter spilled freely, a mix of light-hearted giggles and drunken cackles, as the liquor flowed and the group reveled in the luxury surrounding them. the air smelled of expensive perfume, vodka, and the faint, metallic tang of ice.
kelce leaned back, swirling a tumbler of gin, his cheeks flushed as he tried to make topper laugh. topper, already several drinks in, leaned forward with a conspiratorial grin, his hair sticking to his forehead. sarah sat close to you, her hand lightly brushing yours as she twirled the remnants of vodka in her glass. you cracked open a vodka soda, the sharp hiss of carbonation cutting through the din of music and conversation. the moment the can opened, it sprayed everywhere, misting you and sarah. you squealed, recoiling as droplets of chilled liquid dotted your arms and face.
“oh my god!” sarah gasped, laughing as she frantically patted at her dress.
“sorry, sorry!” you cried, giggling uncontrollably as you grabbed a napkin to dab her arm.
“you are so buying me a new outfit,” she teased, but the twinkle in her eye told you she didn’t mean it.
the group erupted into laughter, kelce pounding the table with his fist. “what is this, amateur hour?” he mocked, earning a playful shove from topper.
“don’t act like you’re not next,” you shot back, shaking your head as you grabbed the vodka bottle from the bucket. the liquor was cold against your palm, the condensation dampening your hand.
in the background, act a fool blared through the speakers, the lyrics blending seamlessly with the buzz of conversation. rafe sat apart from the group, his posture relaxed, but his eyes were trained on you. his gin sat untouched in a crystal glass, the ice melting slowly. while everyone else laughed and joked, he watched you with an intensity that set him apart, his jaw tight as you brought the vodka bottle to your lips.
you leaned toward sarah, your movements slightly sluggish, your words slurring as you said, “i have to tell you something.”
she raised an eyebrow, giggling at your serious tone. “what’s that?”
you sighed dramatically, gesturing around the room. “i’ve gotten everything i’ve ever wanted, but i have one wish.”
sarah’s laughter softened into curiosity as she tilted her head. “i’ll grant you three,” she teased, her voice warm and affectionate.
you leaned closer, resting your chin on her shoulder as you whispered, “you and me. we’re thirty, living in california. we have a beach house in italy. these boys,” you waved dismissively, your free hand gesturing toward the guys. “…are just placeholders. we live together.”
sarah blinked, her expression shifting as her smile faltered. something in your voice, in the quiet yearning beneath your playful tone, struck a chord. she frowned, her eyes glistening as if tears were just a breath away. “i’ll drink to that,” she murmured, leaning over rafe to wrap her arms around you. the embrace was warm and comforting, sarah’s laugh mingling with yours as you passed her the vodka bottle. she took a swig, grimacing slightly as the sharp burn hit her throat.
across the table, kelce and topper exchanged a glance. “they’re not about to make out, are they?” kelce whispered, grinning mischievously.
topper slapped his arm, rolling his eyes. “shut up, man.”
rafe finally moved, setting his glass down with a soft clink. his voice cut through the noise, steady and authoritative. “hey, hey, hey, okay,” he said, leaning forward and grabbing the vodka bottle from sarah’s hand. he set it down firmly on the table. “you’ve both had enough to drink. settle down.”
you turned to him, your eyes glassy and your lips curling into a small, defiant smile. “you haven’t had enough,” you whispered, leaning against his shoulder.
the contact sent a jolt through him, his spine stiffening as your warmth seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt. your proximity was intoxicating, your breath brushing against his skin as your words hung in the air like a challenge. for a moment, he was frozen, caught off guard by the way you disarmed him so effortlessly. his pulse quickened, but he didn’t move, didn’t dare breathe as your weight rested against him.
topper, who had been quietly observing, narrowed his eyes, his expression hardening. “alright, that’s enough,” he muttered, reaching out to pull you upright. but rafe didn’t move, his gaze locked on you, his hand steady on the vodka bottle as if anchoring himself. something unspoken passed between you, a charged silence that neither of you dared to break.
the night was teetering on the edge of chaos, the atmosphere thick with liquor-fueled exhilaration and the sharp tang of tension. the flashing lights from the dance floor illuminated your golden dress, reflecting in the swirling haze of smoke and sweat. the crowd moved as one, their energy magnetized toward you and sarah as you spun her under the pulsing beat. the music thumped louder, and the bartender, noticing the rising excitement, wiped down the counter with a quick slap of his rag. he gestured toward the two of you, his grin wide as he motioned for you to step up.
“come on,” you said, your voice cutting through the music as you pulled sarah toward the bar. her protests were faint, drowned out by your infectious confidence.
with a laugh, you guided her up onto the counter, steadying her with a firm grip on her hands. the cheers around you erupted into a frenzy as you began to move, your body swaying and rolling in perfect rhythm with the music. the lights caught every facet of your dress, sending shards of gold cascading across the room. sarah followed your lead, her movements growing more fluid as you guided her hips with your hands. she blushed under your touch, her laughter blending with the roar of the crowd. you leaned into her, arching your back just enough to draw more cheers.
the vodka bottle in your hand sloshed slightly as you crouched low, balancing effortlessly on your heels. tipping the bottle over the edge of the counter, you poured a stream of vodka toward the eager mouths below, eliciting more hollers and applause. the crowd drank it up, their cheers climbing to a fever pitch as you returned to your feet, twirling sarah into another spin.
the boys were transfixed. kelce leaned against the table, his grin wide as he shook his head. “i got a hundred riding on this night ending with an ambulance,” he slurred, though his eyes lingered on you.
topper, already three sheets to the wind, chuckled. “man, she’s something else,” he murmured, his gaze locked on your form as you danced. he leaned back, smirking as he added, “i think i’m gonna ask her out tonight.”
kelce let out a loud cheer, raising his glass in mock celebration. “see you at the gym, top.”
but rafe sat rigid, his jaw tight and his glass clutched too firmly in his hand. he drained the rest of his gin in one sharp motion, his knuckles whitening as he reached for the bottle to refill.
when topper caught the expression on his face, his grin turned into a taunt. he tilted his head, feigning innocence as he asked, “something to say, cameron?”
rafe shrugged, pouring another drink without looking at him. “do what you want,” he said, his tone low and biting. “it’s your funeral.”
topper’s smirk faltered, his drunken bravado shifting into something darker. “what the fuck’s your problem?” he demanded, leaning in. “mad you don’t get the girl for once?”
the taunt hung in the air, baiting rafe in a way that was impossible to ignore. his grip tightened on the neck of the bottle as he leaned forward, his voice dripping with venom. “not as mad as you’ll be when i tell you that we fucked,” he spat.
the silence that followed was deafening. kelce froze, his eyes wide as he glanced between the two, anticipation crackling in the air. the music continued to pound, but it felt muted, the tension between rafe and topper swallowing everything else. topper’s expression darkened, his fist curling at his side. then, without warning, he lunged forward, his punch connecting with rafe’s jaw with a sickening crack. he stumbled back, toppling over the couch as the room erupted into chaos. the cheers turned into gasps, all eyes snapping to the commotion in the section. but rafe wasn’t down for long. he was back on his feet in an instant, his jaw set and his eyes blazing.
“is that all you got, bitch?” he barked, his voice carrying over the music as he launched himself at topper, tackling him to the ground.
kelce, still lounging on the couch, doubled over in laughter. “stop the violence,” he slurred, pulling out his phone to record the fight. “white trash.” he added with a cackle, his voice barely audible over the shouts and scuffle.
the fight had turned vicious. topper lunged again, his fist swinging hard enough to make the crowd around them flinch. he caught rafe across the cheekbone, the sharp smack of skin on skin cutting through the music. “take it back!” he shouted, his voice raw with anger.
rafe stumbled but didn’t go down. his lip split, blood trickling to his chin as he wiped it away with the back of his hand. he smirked, that infuriating smirk that always made topper see red. “why, top? gonna shed a tear or two?” rafe taunted, his words slurred but sharp.
topper grabbed the front of rafe’s shirt, pulling him close. “say you lied!”
rafe laughed, low and mocking. “why would I? you really think you’ve got a shot with her? come on, man. she’d chew you up and spit you out.”
kelce, leaning back on the couch, was practically howling with laughter as he filmed. “oh, this is gold. gonna do numbers on snap.” he slurred, zooming in as topper shoved rafe back, only for rafe to retaliate with a fist to his jaw.
the bouncers at the edge of the chaos exchanged amused glances. one of them, a broad-shouldered man with a shaved head, nudged his partner. “fifty says the tall one in the blazer goes down first,” he said.
“nah,” the other replied, shaking his head. “that one—rafe, right? he’s got crazy in his eyes. i’ll take the other guy.”
the blows became sloppier as the alcohol took its toll, but the rage between the two burned hot and bright. rafe tackled topper to the ground, the two of them grappling as the crowd shouted and jeered. that’s when you noticed. your attention, previously fixed on sarah and the music, shifted to the commotion. your heart sank as you recognized the figures on the floor. “jesus,” you muttered, pushing through the crowd. “what the fuck are they doing?”
kelce turned to you, grinning as he kept filming. “oh, you know boys, always roughhousing,” he cackled, his words thick with gin.
you shot him a glare before grabbing a nearby vodka soda, cracking it open with a sharp hiss. without hesitation, you stepped into the fray, tipping the can over their heads. the cold liquid drenched both of them, startling them into stillness. “what the fuck?” rafe spat, blinking up at you as the vodka dripped down his face.
you glared down at him, your chest heaving. “are you done?” you snapped, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him to his feet. “we’re leaving.”
rafe tried to resist, but your grip was firm, and his drunken state left him little room to argue. the crowd parted as you pulled him through, cameras flashing as you emerged into the cool night air. outside, the chaos faded into quiet, the muffled thump of the music barely audible. you stopped by a bench, releasing rafe’s arm as you took a shaky breath. the night air bit at your damp skin, and you sat down, your pulse still racing.
he stood there for a moment, staring at you. then, slowly, he sank down beside you, his body heavy with exhaustion.
“i’m sorry,” he said, the words soft and unexpected.
you turned to him, your brows furrowing as you took in his bruised face. his eyes were glassy, his lip swollen, but his expression was sincere.
“i’m sorry for everything,” he continued, his voice rough. “for being an ass, for decking topper. i did it because i’m wired that way, okay? you just—you left that morning. you were gone, just like that. i woke up, i could still smell you, you and your stupid perfume. and i turned around, and you were gone, like i was waking up from a dream that was never meant to be.”
his words hit you like a blow, your chest tightening as you struggled to respond. “i’m sorry,” you whispered finally, your voice barely audible. “i can’t stay. you know i can’t.”
he shook his head, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “i’m not him,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “i’m not your dad. i’m not gonna leave.”
and just like that, the dam broke. tears spilled down your cheeks, and you hated how vulnerable you felt, but rafe didn’t. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as your body shook with sobs.
“you spend this time with a scab, and you expect it to heal,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “but how can you do that if you keep picking at it?”
he pulled back, his fingers tilting your chin up so you were forced to meet his gaze. “anybody who’s had the pleasure of knowing your name just to lose you—they’ll regret that for the rest of their lives. and he will, too. but i’m not him. god, i could never be him. i could never let go of someone like you. i’d spend the rest of my life searching for you if i did.”
his words cracked something deep inside you, and when his hand stroked your cheek, trailing to the underside of your jaw, you didn’t pull away. his lips met yours with a fervor that made your breath hitch, his desperation coursing as though he feared you might disappear at any moment.
when he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, relief flooding his expression when he saw you were still there. “i love you,” he murmured, the words so quiet you almost missed them.
you shook your head, your voice trembling. “i’m damaged goods, rafe.”
but he kissed you again, silencing your protests. When he pulled back, he whispered, “you could never be damaged, not you. and even if you were, even if you kept falling apart, i’d keep putting you back together. over and over again.”
his arms tightened around you as you cried, his grip unwavering, as if you were gonna disappear—and as far as he was concerned, it was possible. he needed it to last, just in case. just in case this was fate being cruel, god laughing at him from afar, ready to snatch you away again. he’d let you slip away once, and he wasn’t about to let it happen again.
the silence of your home was deafening. the weight of everything lingered, pressing heavily on your chest as you sank onto the couch. your dress clung to your damp skin, and you leaned forward, burying your face in your hands. for once, you didn’t talk to yourself, didn’t pace the room pretending you felt safe, didn’t toss and turn, praying for someone to come home and tuck you in. you just sat there, letting the stillness wrap around you like a heavy, unwelcome blanket.
“you’re biting off more than you can chew,” you muttered finally, your voice cutting through the quiet.
but this time, you weren’t talking to yourself. you weren’t talking to the father who’d never respond.
from below you, rafe’s voice came soft and steady. “you’re not gonna push me away,” he said, kneeling in front of you, his hands resting on your knees. his fingers traced light, soothing patterns on your skin, grounding you. “not again.”
a small, bittersweet smile tugged at your lips as your hands fell from your face. your fingers reached out instinctively, cupping his jaw, your touch feather-light. “sorry, was i doing that?” you teased, though your voice wavered.
rafe stood slowly, towering over you, his presence commanding as it was comforting. his hand brushed your hair back from your face, his eyes searching yours. “you can keep doing that,” he murmured, his voice low and unwavering. “because i’m not going anywhere either way.”
you couldn’t hold back the small smile that broke through, your face still streaked with the remnants of tears. “you’re not gonna like what you see, rafe,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a vulnerability you hadn’t let anyone see before.
his thumb stroked your cheek, his hand warm and steady as it cupped your jaw. “do your worst,” he said softly, his gaze unwavering.
you stood, brushing past him, your steps slow and deliberate as you faced away. “i liked it,” you began, your voice fragile yet resolute. “the attention, the drinking, all of it. i could make it through my days of pity parties and waiting for something that was never going to come because i could pretend—pretend to be someone else, even if it was just for a few hours.”
rafe’s eyes never left you, his breath steady, waiting. “and who did you pretend to be?” he asked gently, his thumb brushing away the stray tear that rolled down your cheek as you turned back to him.
you exhaled shakily, the words breaking as they left your lips. “i’d pretend like i was still someone’s little girl. just for a little while.”
his hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer, and his lips pressed against yours with a tenderness that felt foreign, new. the kiss was sweet, patient, the kind of kiss that made your heart stutter. it was soft, unhurried, but beneath it was something so much more different that what you were used to. you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his hair as if letting go meant losing him. he didn’t falter, didn’t break away. Instead, his hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. he turned, sinking back onto the couch with you in his lap, his lips never leaving yours.
his breath was warm against your skin as he whispered, “you can hide as much as you want. i’ll run away and hide with you.”
a genuine smile broke through your defenses, the first in what felt like years. it wasn’t forced or fleeting—it was real. and it was because of him.
you kissed him again, this time with more urgency, more heat. his hands roamed your back, steady but hungry, as though he wanted to memorize every inch of you. his fingers found the zipper of your dress, pausing for a moment as if asking permission. you nodded, your breath hitching as he pulled the zipper down, his hands brushing your skin as the fabric slipped away. you tugged at his shirt in return, your fingers fumbling slightly, but he helped you, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.
his hands, warm and firm, cupped your waist, his touch reverent as his lips found yours again. “god,” he murmured against your lips, his voice heavy with emotion. “i just wanna feel you—really feel you. not what you show the world, not the mask. just you.”
your breath caught in your throat as you nodded, letting the dress fall away from your shoulders, the fabric pooling around you. he kissed you deeper, his hands exploring, but gentle, as if he knew the fragility of your trust. your body responded, leaning into him, the heat between you growing as the fabric of his pants rubbed against your bare thighs.
his mouth trailed down your neck, kissing a soft line to your collarbone, and you shivered, your hands tightening on his shoulders. he pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes, searching for reassurance. you nodded, your breath coming in gasps as you whispered, “yes, rafe—yes, i want this, i want you.”
his eyes lit up, a warmth that spread through you like a warm embrace, and he kissed you again, this time with an intensity that made your knees go weak. his hands moved to unhook your bra, the fabric slipping away to reveal your bare tits to the cool air. he took his time, kissing down your neck, nipping at your shoulders, as he trailed towards your breasts, his touch light and reverent, as if he was worshipping every inch of you.
you felt exposed, but not in the way you had with others. with rafe, it was different. you felt seen, understood—like he knew the secrets etched into your soul and loved you for them. as his kisses grew bolder, so did your desire, your hands sliding down to unbuckle his belt, to push his pants aside. your heart hammered in your chest as your skin met his, the sensation electric, as if the air around you crackled with energy.
his hand slid up your thigh, and you felt him, hard and eager against you, and for once, you weren’t afraid. you weren’t just giving in—you were choosing this. choosing him.
his thumb brushed against your center, and a soft moan escaped your lips. his eyes searched yours, and when he found what he was looking for—consent, trust—his hand slid further, pushing aside the last of your barriers, watching the way your panties slid off the flesh of your thighs with desire in his eyes
you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, the urgency growing as his fingers moved with a gentle skill that had you arching into his touch. your breath came in ragged gasps, your eyes fluttering shut as you focused on the feeling of him, of this moment, of the way he was making you feel.
his other hand found your cheek, turning your face to his, and he kissed you again, his eyes never leaving yours as he entered you, slow and sure, filling the emptiness you’d felt for so long. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure, but with rafe, it was different—it was healing. you let out a moan as you held onto him, his dick pushing into you, splitting you in a way that had his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
you clung to him, your nails digging into his skin, as he began to thrust into you, the rhythm steady and soothing, his eyes never leaving yours. your breathing synced with his, your bodies moving together as if they’d always been meant to, and in that moment, you forgot about your father, your issues, the weight of the world. there was only rafe. he let out a groan as he lifted your legs, pushing them back, leaning forward to take advantage of the angle that had his dick throbbing.
his voice was a whisper in your ear, “i love you, baby,” and the words sunk into you like warm rain, washing away the doubt, filling you up until you felt like you might burst with the emotion.
your eyes snapped open, and you stared at him, your breath catching. “you love me?” you breathed, your voice trembling with hope.
his smile was gentle, his eyes full of love and tenderness. “more than anything,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth as he thrusted into you. “more than i thought possible.”
his words sent a shiver down your spine, your walls crumbling away. the love you’d been so afraid to admit washed over you, mixing with the pleasure of his touch. your hips moved with his, your bodies finding a rhythm that was as natural as breathing. his hand moved between your legs, his thumb brushing against your clit with a precision that had you gasping, your nails digging into his back.
you felt your orgasm building, the tension coiling in your stomach, your muscles tightening around him. rafe noticed, his eyes darkening with passion, his breath coming in harsh pants. “come for me, baby,” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “let go—i’ve got you.”
you did, letting yourself fall over the edge, the pleasure crashing through you like a tidal wave. rafe followed, his movements becoming erratic as he buried his face in your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. your bodies shuddered together, the intensity of your release leaving you boneless and weak. when he came inside you, there was no panic, no yelling, no running. he was still there, and so were you.
afterwards, he held you close, your heartbeats syncing as your breaths grew steadier. the room was filled with the scent of sweat and sex, but it was comforting rather than suffocating. rafe’s hand stroked your hair, his kisses tender and gentle as they trailed down your neck and along your collarbone. you leaned into him, feeling safe and loved in a way you never had before. the silence was no longer a prison but a sanctuary, a space where you could breathe and just be.
he could have this, he could enjoy it, knowing that you wouldn’t disappear when the morning came. not this time.
⋆. 𐙚 ˚
a/n: take a shot whenever topper and kelce exchange a glance pls i giggled writing this
#outer banks#obx#outer banks smut#outer banks angst#outer banks fluff#outer banks fanfiction#obx smut#obx angst#obx fluff#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x reader smut#rafe smut#rafe angst#rafe fluff#rafe fanfiction#rafe x reader#outer banks rafe#drew starkey#drew starkey smut#gossip girl
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simon riley and wicked are the only two things in my head for the past week..
simon would do anything for you. he’d go out and buy your favorite snack when you’re on your period, he’d take you and all your girlfriends out to the bar so you could have fun, and he would kill anyone that got too close to you. wouldn’t admit that tho, wouldn’t want scare to scare his pretty little thing
so when you ask him if he’ll go see wicked with you, it’s an immediate yes.
he buys the tickets for that saturday night, and lets you plan his outfit. of course simon would be wearing green, you in pink. you walk hand and hand into the theatre, his green military issued shirt hanging over the sweatpants you practically forced him into.
simon could care less how it looked to see a type of man like him in a theatre for a movie like this. it all was worth it when he saw your face light up everytime glinda was on screen or your favorite song came on.
by the end of the movie, simon ghost riley could not wipe the smile off his face. he had to admit, it was pretty good. this got you to laugh, knowing you’d buy it as soon as it came out on streaming.
‘glad you enjoyed it, lovie’ he’d say when you giddily explain all your theories for part two. simon thought it was adorable when you yapped about things you liked, seeing you happy was all he wanted.
over the next week, you’d started playing the soundtrack anytime you would play music. you tended to have an obsessive personality, simon loved that about his sweet, little bird.
he would never complain, he secretly loved hearing you sing all the songs. your voice being the only melody he wanted to hear.
one tuesday night, after an especially hard day at work, your man surprised you with a cozy movie night. complete with your favorite take out, ice cream, and of course.. wicked.
‘all your favorite things are here, princess. needed to cheer my baby up.’
you two lay there, wrapped up in each other, his head in your lap while you play with his hair. your fingers trace over his face as you whisper about how much you love him.
his favorite songs are the wizard and i, im not that girl, and what is this feeling? i know this bc he told me
#okay this is just brainrot#this isn’t good i just needed to get it out#I LOVE WICKED PLS#no bc he loves it too#he eats you out after you come back from getting popcorn#cod headcanons#ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost hcs#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost x reader#simon ghost x you
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Can’t Get Rid of You
౨ৎ PAIRING— university student!jeong yunho x university student!reader
౨ৎ GENRE— academic rivals to lovers, angst, fluff, fem!reader
౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff, yunho is rude at times, but so is reader
౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 4.9k
౨ৎ SUMMARY— both you and yunho are chosen to attend the same conference, staying in a local hotel, only there’s only one room, and you both seemingly hate each other
౨ৎ A/N— it’s here!! i’m sorry it took so long for me to write, but i hope you all still enjoy it and it lives up to expectations!! thank you so much for your interest and lmk what you think <3
“Mind if I sit here?”
Looking up, you’re almost in disbelief at who you see.
“Wha-” you stutter, but he rolls his eyes, taking the seat anyway. “Excuse me-“
“Take it up with the flight attendant. This is my seat.” Yunho responds, a far too cheeky smirk on his face.
“And why do you have a seat right next to me?” you ask, frowning, as you move your stuff so he doesn’t kick it or sit on it.
“Because we’re from the same school and going to the same conference. I’m sure you know that the university paid for our tickets, unless you’re that dumb,” he responds, giving you a sideways look before putting in his AirPods.
“Are you going to the Tokyo conference?” you ask, already knowing the answer.
“Are you deaf or did you not hear when I just told you we’re going to the same conference?” Yunho replies, quirking an eyebrow at you.
“Wow, rude,” you roll your eyes, settling back into your seat, jamming your own earbuds in your ears, just as the plane starts to takeoff. This is going to be a long weekend.
Dragging your suitcase behind you, you begrudgingly follow Yunho into the fairly nice hotel the university had booked for you to stay in over the weekend. He leads the way to the front desk, where he gets the receptionist’s attention. “I have a booking from Seoul National University.”
She types on her keyboard, the keys clicking as she searches. “Names?”
“Jeong Yunho,” he responds, and, before you can say your own name, he adds. “And Y/N Y/L/N.”
“Are you both together?” the receptionist gestures to you and Yunho, making you glance at Yunho too.
“No,” you respond, shaking your head.
She frowns, “Are you both from the same university?”
“Yes…” Yunho replies hesitantly. “Is there an issue?”
“Seoul National University only booked one room,” the lady informs both of you, making your heart sink.
“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip.
“Positive. Would you still like to take the room or ask the university first?” she asks, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.
“We’ll take it,” Yunho sighs, making you look at him in shock, as the receptionist nods and types on the keyboard before passing Yunho the room key card. With a nod to her, he starts to move again, clearly expecting you to follow.
“Yunho!” you hiss, rushing to follow him as he heads to the elevator. “I am not sharing a room with you all weekend.”
“Or…” he turns sharply to look at you as you almost collide with his chest at the abrupt stop. He bends down a little to be at your height. “You could grow up and realize that the school will take all weekend just to fix the room error and you’re going to have to get used to the idea of living with me for a weekend because it’s the best we’re going to do unless you want to pay for your own expensive room.”
Your mouth snaps shut at his reprimand, even though you really want to fight back. You know it would be fruitless anyway.
“Good. Now, I’m exhausted, so let’s go find the room, yeah?” he raises his eyebrows, expecting you to agree.
“Whatever,” you grumble, hating that he’s right. You bite your tongue to keep from making an additional comment about his character.
“Good girl.”
Your head snaps up, your mouth dropping open slightly, but he’s already walking off toward the elevator again. With a sharp glare at the back of his head, you yank your suitcase along with you as you follow him.
After he unlocks the room, the lock making a clicking sound as the room key works, he pushes the door open, dragging his suitcase with him as he enters the room.
“So let’s get this straight,” you start, pulling your suitcase into the room before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You got chosen to come to the same conference?”
“It’s not that deep,” Yunho responds, already setting up some of his stuff. “If you’d read the flier for the conference, you’d have known that up to four could have been chosen from our university.”
“I read the flier, but why’d you choose this one?” you respond, exasperated.
“Why’d you choose it?” he snaps, looking up at you from his spot crouched in front of his suitcase on the floor.
“Because it made the most sense for my major and I didn’t want to wait until fall to meet potential employers,” you reply confidently.
“I chose it for the same reason,” he retaliates, setting his phone down on the bedside table and plugging it into the wall charger he brought. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, princess.”
“Don’t call me that,” you glare at him, squeezing the handle of your suitcase. “And you’re not even smart! You’re just naturally good.”
“Hit a nerve, did I?” Yunho chuckles before gesturing to your suitcase. “You better unpack soon or you’ll be awake all night. And you’re just jealous because I don’t have to work as hard as you to be good.”
“Whatever. And I’m getting to it,” you roll your eyes. “And besides, I’m leaving to get something to eat in a minute anyway.”
“So am I,” he replies making you sigh in annoyance. “Let’s just go together. It’ll be easier.”
“I don’t want to go with—”
“Does ramen work for you?” Yunho cuts you off, looking at his phone to see restaurants near the hotel.
“I just said that I—”
“Good!” he responds, his brown eyes meeting yours, daring you to argue further. “Be ready to leave in ten minutes.”
“Yunho!” you call after him as he enters the bathroom, closing the door in your face. With a frustrated huff, you sit back down on the bed, fully aware you’re being childish about the whole situation, but too invested in being annoyed to care.
Exactly ten minutes later, you’re sitting on the bed again, after having unpacked a little, scrolling on your phone.
Yunho exits the bathroom, looking fresher and having changed clothes.
“Did you shower in there?” you ask. “You know other people need the bathroom too.”
“I didn’t shower,” he rolls his eyes, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I just changed out of my airport clothes and washed my face.”
“Well you better be prepared to wait another ten minutes before leaving to get dinner because I need more time,” you retort, grabbing your own change of clothes and heading to the bathroom.
“Take your time then,” Yunho responds, plopping down onto the bed and grabbing his phone.
“Or you could just leave and I’ll get something myself,” you respond, a last ditch effort to get him to leave you alone.
“Nah, I’ll wait. I’m in no rush,” he replies, much to your dismay.
“Of course you aren’t,” you mumble under your breath as you close the bathroom door a little harder than necessary. Why’d Yunho have to be naturally smart enough to come to this conference? He doesn’t even try!
Roughly fifteen minutes later, you exit the bathroom, slipping into some shoes as you sit on the edge of the bed again.
“Took you long enough,” Yunho’s voice greets you as you sigh.
“I gave you fair warning,” you reply, grabbing your purse as Yunho slips his shoes back on.
“Let’s go then, slow poke,” he teases as you follow him out of the room.
It takes about ten minutes to get to the ramen place, following the GPS on Yunho’s phone. It’s a quaint little place that actually looks really cozy. The bell dings overhead as Yunho pushes the door open and you both walk in.
The employees greet you as you enter, Yunho quickly snagging one of the tables near the window. For a moment, you debate sitting somewhere else, but you see that the other tables are pretty full, so you sigh, sitting across from Yunho.
“Is it that much of a struggle for you to get along with me for one single weekend until the conference is over?” Yunho asks, his voice laced with mock sweetness.
“Well it isn’t easy, that’s for sure,” you grumble.
“Well, we’re representing our university at the conference tomorrow so get it together, okay? I’m sure I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to make a fool of myself tomorrow, hm?” Yunho responds, and you know that he’s right.
“Fine,” you reply through gritted teeth. “I’ll try, but only if you do too.”
“I already have been, princess,” he winks cheekily, knowing you already warned him about the domineering nickname earlier.
It takes all the restraint you have not to reach across the table and punch his perfect face.
About an hour later, you enter the hotel room again, exhausted and ready for a shower and sleep. “Dibs on the first shower,” you tell him, already grabbing your stuff.
“Be my guest,” Yunho shrugs, gesturing to the bathroom door as you walk through it, closing it and locking it behind you.
Deciding not to wash your hair tonight, you start the shower, still taking your time with cleaning yourself. When you finish, you shut the water off and hop out, slipping into your silk pajamas, brushing your teeth, and doing your skincare.
Yunho is waiting when you finally walk out, his head lifting as he hears you open the bathroom door. “Done?” he asks, to which you simply nod, allowing him to walk past you and into the bathroom.
With a sigh, you sit down on the bed, grabbing your phone and checking your messages. About twenty minutes later, the bathroom door opens, a small amount of steam seeping out as Yunho emerges, shirtless, wearing grey sweatpants slung low on his hips.
You have to forcefully avert your eyes to keep from staring at his slightly defined abs for too long, even though you have to admit his pale skin is gorgeous. Shaking your head, you force your mind out of the gutter. He’s your rival!
Surprisingly, Yunho doesn’t call you out on your ogling, choosing instead to walk over to his suitcase, crouching down, as he searches for something. “You didn’t happen to see a grey hoodie over there, did you?” he asks, looking up at you.
You look down at the bed, spotting it under the blanket you’d thrown onto the bed. “This one?” you hold it up, watching as his face lights up and he nods.
“Yeah, thanks,” Yunho replies, offering you a small smile as he walks over, reaching out to grab it. Your eyes widen as he leans over you a little, his chest nearly directly in front of your face. You swallow, feeling heat creeping up your neck as Yunho finally grabs the hoodie, his fingers brushing against yours as you release the soft fabric from your grip.
Blinking as he pulls back, you snap yourself out of it. “No problem,” you respond, watching out of the corner of your eye as Yunho slips the hoodie over his head before plopping down on the bottom of the bed, phone in hand again.
“So, sleeping arrangement?” he asks after a few minutes of silence, setting his phone down and stretching, his hoodie riding up a little to reveal a sliver of skin.
“Uh, what?”
“How are we going to sleep tonight?” he repeats, slightly exasperated.
“Closing our eyes, I guess,” you shrug, setting your own phone down.
Yunho rolls his eyes, nudging your foot with his hand, making you pull it up closer to your body, wide eyed. “You know what I mean, dummy.”
“Well, obviously, I get the bed,” you respond. “I’m the girl.”
“Oh, and girls can’t sleep on couches?” Yunho asks, raising an eyebrow.
“We can, but it’s polite of the man to let the woman take the bed, is it not?”
“Maybe it’s polite of most men, but this man is too tall to sleep on that couch,” he points at the rather small and short couch that is pushed against the wall on the opposite side of the room.
“And this woman gets cramps if I sleep in a weird position,” you argue, crossing your arms.
“But my legs will hang off the end!” Yunho retorts.
“And my back will cramp and I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!”
“Fine, you know what? I’ll be the bigger person and sleep on the couch. It’s late and I’d rather not argue with you again,” Yunho sighs, standing up as he grabs one of the pillows and a blanket.
“Wait, no, I can be the bigger person and sleep on the couch,” you start to move, suddenly feeling a little bad for making him sleep there.
“No, I’m clearly the bigger person here,” Yunho chuckles, gesturing to his height. “And like I said, I don’t want to argue anymore. So let’s just sleep, yeah?”
“Fine,” you frown, reaching over to turn the light off, bathing the room in darkness, except for the moonlight filtering in through the hotel room window.
About an hour later, you’re still awake, tossing and turning, realizing suddenly that you’re actually worried about the conference tomorrow. What if the presentation you have prepared is horrible and they all laugh at you? Or what if Yunho’s is better and he gets all the recognition and job offers?
You glance over at the couch he’s sleeping on, seeing his legs hanging off the end just as he’d said, and you suddenly feel like a horrible human being for making him sleep like that all night when he’s probably equally as nervous about the conference. “Yunho?”
“Hm?” a sleepy hum greets you as you hear rustling.
“You awake?” you ask, whispering.
“Yeah, why?” he responds, his voice a little deeper, thick with exhaustion.
“Are you sure you don’t want the bed?” you ask, hoping he won’t react strongly to your offer.
“I said you could have it,” he sighs deeply, and you can practically hear the annoyance in his tone.
“I know, but I’m clearly more qualified to take the couch,” you respond softly, surprising even yourself with your gentle tone. Suddenly, you think of something. “Or we could… share the bed?”
“No,” he replies, turning over on the couch, facing away from you.
“But you’re clearly exhausted and so am I,” you frown. “I won’t try anything, I promise.”
“Why would I think you would?” Yunho replies, laughing a little.
“I dunno,” you blush, but at least he can’t see the color on your cheeks in the dark. “I’m just trying to reassure you-“
“You know what?” Yunho sits up a little. “I’ll take you up on the offer. This couch hurts.”
You watch as he stands up, stretching before making his way over to the bed, trying not to trip on your suitcase as he steps over it. “I’ll sleep on top of the sheets, though.”
“Deal,” you nod, moving over to let him onto the bed, laughing slightly at his relieved sigh as he lays down. “Just stay on your side, okay?”
“Noted,” he responds, and you can practically hear the grin on his face. “She doesn’t like cuddling.”
“Not with you at least,” you snort in response, rolling over to face away from him. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, princess.” This time, you don’t even feel the urge to correct him.
Your eyes slowly open as they adjust to the dim light filtering into the room. Feeling warmth to your left, you let your eyes drift closed again as you unconsciously shift closer to it, your face coming in contact with something hard and warm. With a start, your eyes open and you look up to see just grey fabric in your vision.
“Huh?” you pull away, seeing that it’s Yunho’s hoodie your face is pressed into. You quickly sit up, making sure he’s still asleep, his eyes closed and his face peaceful, before you look down, seeing you’re literally in the middle of the bed. How could you go against your own rule and not stay on your side of the bed?
All you can do is hope he was too deep in sleep to notice. You quietly and carefully slip out of the bed and grab your clothes for the day out of your suitcase, heading to the bathroom to take a quick shower.
By the time you get out, Yunho is awake and sipping some coffee. “‘Morning,” he greets you with a nod and a small smirk.
“Good morning,” you reply, acting as causal as you can as you go to your suitcase.
“‘No cuddles’, huh?”
You grit your teeth, having half expected this. “It won’t happen again.”
“If it does, I’ll know you lied,” Yunho responds, his tone teasing as he stands up, heading to the bathroom. But before he closes the door, he adds, “And for the record? I didn’t mind.”
His words leave you confused more than anything else as you shake your head, getting back to what you were doing, needing to go over your PowerPoint again before it’s time to present at the conference.
Hours later, when it’s finally your turn to present at the conference, you walk up to the stage, your never making your hands shake. As you start, your nerves slowly dissipate, until disaster strikes. You click the little remote, but the slideshow isn’t playing. Glancing around the room, you give them a nervous smile.
“One moment please…”
Frantically, you press the button, looking at the IT team for help just before the whole computer shuts down.
With a frown, you catch Yunho’s eyes, and he looks concerned. Mustering your courage, you try to salvage the presentation as best you can. “Where was I? Oh um… I think it would really help because… um…”
Your brain feels like it’s malfunctioning and your face is on fire as you try to piece together your thoughts, when you realize. The computer wasn’t doing this for anyone else all day.
Why’d it choose you? Your eyes meet Yunho’s again and it clicks in your head. He sabotaged it. This morning, you left your computer turned on while you went to shower and he must have done something to it.
Holding back tears, you rush off the stage, completely humiliated. You’re so hysterical that you don’t notice Yunho following you out.
You notice him as you turn the corner, hearing him following you as you rush out of the huge conference room, hurrying down the hallway, trying to hold back tears.
“Wait!” Yunho calls out, catching up to you as he grabs your arm, making you whip around on him.
“Why are you acting like you care?! I just spoiled all my chances of ever making it into an elite corporation!” you cry, tears pricking your vision as you move to lean against the wall.
Yunho frowns, taking a step closer to you, “I never said I don’t care. You said that. You’re the one keeping up this ‘rivalry’ like you think there’s something wrong with both of us being smart! You know, in freshman year, I saw how hard you worked and I actually wanted to be your friend! It’s true I don’t have to try as hard, but I still care!”
Your head snaps up as you look at him, really look at him, for what feels like the first time. Your voice is shaky as you ask, “What?”
He steps closer still, “You’re the one making a big thing out of both of us being the smartest at the university and getting into all the prestigious programs together. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you… I mean it. I’ve never wished you’d fail so I could succeed.”
You notice the way his voice softens as he speaks, his brown eyes flicking across your face, trying to gauge your reaction and emotions.
“So you didn’t sabotage my presentation?” you ask, sniffling as you look up at him.
He’s taken aback for a moment, seemingly shocked that you’d even think that before he gently places his hands on your elbows, his warm hands effectively getting you to look up at him, “No, I’d never do that to you. I know how hard you’ve worked because you’re just as good, if not better, than me. What happened today was purely a technical issue and then you clammed up out there when it didn’t go as planned.”
“So, you’re positive you didn’t tamper with it?”
“I didn’t.”
Silence follows as the two of you stand together, your eyes searching his, looking for a shred of proof that he could be lying.
Finding none, you release a shaky sigh before suddenly throwing your arms around his neck, standing on your tippy toes to bury your face in the crook of his neck, finally breaking completely as you sob quietly.
He freezes for a moment, taken aback, but he slowly returns the embrace, trying to comfort you as his hand gently moving to cradle the back of your head, his other resting on your back. “Shh,” he soothes, gently rubbing your back in a soothing motion. “It happens.”
“What? Clamming up completely in front of all my potential employers?” you let out a self deprecating laugh, sniffling.
“Well that’s part of it,” Yunho chuckles softly. “But I mean the computer freezing on you. You couldn’t control that, could you?”
“I could control how I reacted, though,” you frown, pulling away from the impromptu hug. “And I reacted horribly. I crumbled under pressure.”
“You’re young and inexperienced,” Yunho responds, reasoning with you. “I think they’ll take that into account when deciding who to hire. Do you not think it’s impressive enough that you’re in your junior year of college and already got accepted to come to this conference anyway? Do you not think they’ll take that into account too?”
Sighing, you realize he’s right. “Maybe?”
“You don’t sound convinced,” Yunho laughs softly, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re smart, mature, and you’re pretty easy on the eyes if I do say so myself.”
You blush slightly, “You’re just saying that…”
“I’m not,” he shakes his head, squeezing your sides gently. “I’m completely serious.”
“Okay,” you respond softly. “I believe you… even though we’re supposed to hate each other.”
“You said that, not me,” Yunho laughs.
“I can’t believe I spent two of my years of college avoiding you like the plague because I thought you hated me,” you rub your nose, sighing.
He gives you a half smile, “We can make up for it now, though, can’t we?”
“I suppose.”
“And you know what?” Yunho starts, his smile growing.
“What?” you ask curiously.
“There’ll be other conferences, other chances to impress those tycoons,” he replies, bending down a little to look you in the eyes.
You gasp suddenly, your hand moving to cover your mouth, “Yunho! You’re missing your presentation! You’re supposed to be presenting in five minutes!”
“If you screwed yours up, so did I,” Yunho laughs. “Our university will just have to pass this time around, yeah?”
“Yunho…” your hands lift to grip his shoulders. “Please go present. Do it for me? Please?”
“Are you serious? You want me to?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing. “But why?”
“Because you’ve been kind to me for almost this whole trip, and the times you weren’t were my fault. So please, you deserve this,” you beg him.
“We deserve this,” he responds, his hand slipping into yours, intertwining your fingers, making you look down at your hand clasped in his before looking back up at his smiling face. “We’ll do it together.”
“What?” you’re shocked, confused.
“You heard me,” Yunho starts tugging on your hand. “We’ll present together. You’ll make up for your mess up, and I’ll guide you, okay?”
“For real?” you ask, a small smile growing on your face as you let him guide you back toward the conference room.
“For real.”
The presentation ends with applause from everyone in the room, and you’re beaming, a smile you can’t get rid of on your face as you and Yunho exit the stage.
Different employers talk to you for a while before they finally let you both go, exhausted yet pleased with how you’d done.
As soon as you’re out of sight from the crowd, you throw your arms around Yunho again in a tight hug. “We did it!”
“We did,” he responds, grinning, as he returns your hug, burying his face in your hair.
“Thank you,” you whisper against his neck. “For letting me do that with you.”
“You deserved it,” Yunho responds. “And maybe I was being a little selfish too?”
“Selfish?” you pull back to look at him, confused.
“I wanted you to finally like me,” he replies sheepishly. “I—I’ve been trying to get you to like me ever since I met you. You just always pushed me away.”
“I only did that because I thought we were in an unspoken rivalry,” you sigh, looking down. “I see now how stupid I was to make something like that up you never even acted like it.”
“That’s not true,” Yunho responds softly. “I did act like it quite often just because of my pride. I didn’t want you to think it was one-sided if you were going to be all… competitive.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” he breathes, before grabbing your hand in his again. “Ready to go back to the hotel?”
“Yeah,” you smile, letting him lead you out of the building.
As you walk out of the airport, back on the ground in South Korea at the end of the weekend, you’re actually sad to part with Yunho to go home.
“You know, I’m kinda sad that conference was at the end of the school year,” you muse, sighing, as you wait for your sister to come pick you up.
“Why’s that?” Yunho asks, looking down at you.
“Because now I have all summer before we go back to school,” you reply, biting your lip softly.
“Why would you want to go back to school?” Yunho asks, laughing a little at the absurdity of missing school that much.
“Because…” you trail off before look up at him, your voice growing softer. “I’ll miss everything.”
“What’s everything?” Yunho asks, his eyebrows furrowing.
“Well, the campus, classes, my friends…” you trail off before taking a deep breath. “You.”
“Me?” he asks, eyes widening. “You’ll miss me?”
“Of course I will,” you respond, a small smile growing on your face. “This weekend has taught me a lot about things, including you.”
“Has the princess grown up?” Yunho asks, a hint of his old teasing tone peeking through.
“I have,” you laugh softly. “Thanks to you.”
“Glad I could be of service,” he smiles, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.
Just then, you see your sister’s car pulling up. “Well, that’s my ride I guess.”
“Yeah?” Yunho asks, standing up with you as you prepare to tell him goodbye.
“Yeah,” you breathe, grabbing the handle of your suitcase. “See you later?”
“Of course,” Yunho responds, smiling softly, his beautiful brown eyes sparkling.
“Bye,” you return his smile, starting to walk toward your sister’s car. Inside, you’re warring with yourself, debating back and forth. Should you do it?
Without a second thought about it, you let go of your suitcase handle, running back to Yunho and basically launching yourself into his arms as your lips collide with his. He freezes for only a moment before he grips your sides, returning the kiss. Your lips move against his for a moment before you pull back slowly, panting slightly.
“What was that for?” he asks, breathless, as he brushes his nose against yours.
“I like you too, Yunho,” you respond, a small smile on your face as you glance at his perfect, pink lips again. “I think I always have… I was just scared.”
He grins, joy radiating from his smile, “You like me?”
“I do,” you nod shyly.
Yunho leans in again, capturing your lips with his in another, much softer kiss. When he pulls away, his gaze meets yours. “I’m so happy we spent the weekend together.”
“So am I,” you smile, reluctantly pulling away. “Well, I should go meet my sister before she wonders what’s happening.”
“Yeah,” he nods, letting you go. “Can I give you my number and maybe we can meet up sometime this summer?”
“Please,” you nod, taking his phone from him to type on your number. With a mischievous smile, you make the contact name ‘Princess’ with a heart emoji. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” he responds, smiling when he sees the contact name. “I’ll text you soon.”
“Alright,” you smile, leaning in to give him one more hug before pulling away for real this time. “You know, I’m glad the university made a mistake with the rooms.”
“Me too,” Yunho smiles. “I got to see how much of a cuddle bug you really are.”
“Well, if you ask me out soon, you might get to see it again.”
“Is now too soon?” Yunho laughs, but you can tell he’s serious. “Will tomorrow work? I can come anywhere.”
“There’s a cafe in downtown Seoul. Would that work?” you suggest.
“Perfect,” he smiles, nodding. “I’ll text you the time I’ll pick you up once you send the address, alright?”
“I guess I was worried for nothing,” you laugh, shaking your head slightly.
“About what?” Yunho asks, tilting his head slightly in question.
“Missing you this summer.”
He winks as you move to go to your sister’s car, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, princess.”
“I think I’m slowly learning that fact.”
Taglist: @hongjoongspoetry, @originallyyn, @outlawinthisworld1117, @anxieteez, @touchme-teezme, @fixonateez8, @hum4n-e4ter, @cherriehaz, @eixila, @i-love-ateez, @gigikubolong29, @kyeos4ng, @annoyingretard, @grandlightcandy, @vanishingboots, @bkimrose, @hobarihope, @sunshiinmidnight, @yuyusuyu, @yunnierights, @sunkissedchocobeauty, @seonghwasprincess, @yunhowooyo, @bloomyroses, @hwalilac, @sheerfreesia007
if there’s a strike through your name, i couldn’t tag </3
#ateez#ateez x reader#writeblr#jeong yunho#atiny#ateez yunho#atz#sagewrites#yunho#ateez fanfic#ateez wooyoung#ateez seonghwa#ateez jongho#ateez san#ateez yeosang#ateez scenarios#ateez mingi#ateez hongjoong#ateez imagines#ateez fic#fluff#angst#rivals to lovers#enemies to lovers#viral#fyp#fypage#fypシ#fanfiction#yunho x reader
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No thought, head empty. Just daydreaming about coming home after a long day and getting face-down ass-up railed by Spencer because he knows you’re at your happiest getting your guts rearranged and your brain turned to mush.
*Sigh* this is what reading American Jesus does to a mofo… Think you straight up altered my brain chemistry with that one. If you wrote something for my little daydream I might actually pass away.
🙏 i will forever write spencer as a pleasure dom, that man would do anything to make sure you feel good, and he's so good at knowing what you need, when you need it.
i hope this satiates your little fantasy <3 thank you for the love on american jesus.
cw; +18 minors dni, fingering, pleasure dom!spencer, eating it from the back, taking it from the back, semi-rough spencer, unprotected p in v, aftercare
You’re exhausted. You drag yourself home after what feels like an eternity since you last saw the sun, the weight of your bag pulling on your shoulder as you slump against the wall and wait for the elevator.
It takes forever to arrive. You stare at the numbers as they flicker up the board and sigh. It’s not that you’ve never felt this tired before, but tonight it’s more than your body feels tired, it’s your mind.
You step into the elevator when the doors finally slide open and lean against the back wall. You let your eyes fall closed for a moment, letting out a soft sigh when you feel the cool air on your face, your skin. Your hand goes to the knot on your tie and you yank it loose, pulling it from around your neck and stuffing it in your pocket.
The elevator jolts to a stop and you step out into the corridor, running a hand through your hair when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror at the end of the hall. You look tired. Your eyes are sunken, the bags underneath making your eyes look darker and bigger.
You start down the hall, coming to a stop outside your door. You’re distracted, staring at the floor as you fumble with your keys and you don’t notice when the door opens, not until Spencer steps out and you nearly run into him.
“Hey, baby,” he says. “Long day?”
He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. You melt against him, sighing happily when you feel his hand slide up to cradle the back of your neck. His grip tightens a little when you moan into his kiss, tilting your head and pressing closer to him.
He pulls away for a moment, studying you. You smile weakly up at him and he frowns. “Did you eat?” he asks, his brow furrowed. “You look exhausted.”
“Yeah,” you say, running your hands up his chest and wrapping your arms around his neck. “I ate at the office.”
He eyes you for a moment, and you know he doesn’t believe you. But he doesn’t press the issue. You’re so tired that you don’t even care when his hands move from your waist to grip your ass. “Bed, then,” he says.
He tugs you forward, kissing you again as he steps into the apartment. You follow him, letting him guide you through the apartment and into the bedroom. He pulls you close to him, kissing your neck as you reach for your shirt.
You shiver, letting out a low moan when he bites at your skin. You press your hands flat against his chest, shoving him back against the bed. He grins up at you as you strip your shirt off and then his, kicking your shoes off as he does the same.
“Take the rest off,” he murmurs, tugging on your belt as he reaches for his own.
You unbuckle it and push your pants down to your thighs, stopping when Spencer grips your hips and turns you to face away from him. His fingers press into your skin, sliding down over the curve of your ass and slipping between your legs.
He presses a kiss to the small of your back, his breath hot against your skin as he lets out a soft groan. “I love you so much,” he murmurs against your skin. “You have no idea.”
You shiver, letting your head fall forward. “I love you, too,” you whisper.
He laughs. “I know,” he says, nipping at your hip. “I know you do.”
He pushes you forward and you go easily, your hands coming to rest on the bed as he pulls your pants the rest of the way off. He runs his hand over your ass, then slips between your legs again, spreading you open with his fingers.
“Spencer,” you murmur, rocking back against him.
His tongue is hot and wet on your skin when he drags it up your inner thigh, nipping at you and making you squirm.
He presses his thumb against your cunt and you cry out, shuddering when he finally slides it inside. Your hand flies out behind you and you grab his hair, tugging hard enough to make him grunt.
“Spencer,” you plead. “Please.”
He kisses his way back up your thigh and you whimper when he stops, his breath hot on your hole. “Please,” you beg again, pushing back against him.
He growls softly and presses forward, his tongue dragging over your skin. You cry out again, your fingers tightening in his hair. “Spencer,” you say again. “Please. I’m begging you.”
He laughs softly and slides his thumb from your body. “Shh, baby,” he murmurs. “Don’t beg. You don’t have to beg, never have to do that with me. Gonna give you whatever you need.”
He pushes your legs open further, his breath hot on you as he presses inside. You arch up, crying out when he starts to fuck you with his tongue.
“Spencer,” you moan, pressing back against him. “Oh god, Spencer, I need you.”
“I know,” he murmurs against you, tongue slick against your wet folds, his voice vibrating through you and making your stomach clench.
You feel him pull away and you can’t help but push back again. He groans and then you’re being pushed forward. Your hands go to the bed and you feel Spencer’s hand curl around your hip.
“Fuck,” he grunts, yanking you back against him. You let out a cry of surprise when his cock slides into you with a small stretch, his fingers digging into your skin. He starts to move, pushing in deep before pulling out and slamming back in. “Fuck,” he pants again, his hand going to your back between your shoulder blades, pushing you down further, making you cry out when his angle changes.
His hips meet your ass with a soft smack every time, fingers dig into your skin and you can feel his nails bite into you. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growls, his hand moving to wrap around your throat. “Like this. Fucking yourself on my cock.”
You moan, pushing back to meet his thrusts. He lets out a sharp groan and then he’s shoving you face down on the bed, holding your wrists behind your back with one hand as he fucks you into the mattress.
“Spencer,” you cry out, arching up under him. “Oh fuck, Spencer.”
He growls and starts to fuck you harder, his thrusts becoming wilder and faster as he grinds into you. His hand slips between you and the bed, his fingers brushing over your clit.
“Spencer,” you sob. “I’m gonna cum.”
He lets out another sharp cry and then his mouth is at your ear. “Don’t you dare,” he growls.
You let out a frustrated noise, trying to pull away from his hand. He holds tighter and fucks you harder, grinding into you. “Spencer,” you whine, trying to writhe under him. “Please, please. I need to cum.”
“I said don't fucking cum,” his voice harsh in your ear.
“Spencer,” you scream, shoving back against him as he fucks you.
His hand slides back between your legs, his fingers circling around your clit. “Now,” he growls. “Cum for me, baby.”
You let out a loud scream, your body shaking violently as you come. You can’t hold yourself up anymore, collapsing face down on the bed. But Spencer doesn’t stop, he doesn’t slow. He keeps fucking you, grinding into you until you feel him shudder over you.
You moan, turning your head to look at him as he comes. His lips parted, eyes scrunched shut as he rocks into you.
He falls forward, pressing his weight into you. You gasp, but it’s not uncomfortable. It feels good. He kisses your cheek and then pulls away, flopping down beside you.
You turn to look at him, reaching up to touch his face. “I love you,” you say softly.
You’re still on top of him when he wakes you a few minutes later, gently rolling you over to your back and then sliding off the bed.
You blink your eyes open, watching as he disappears into the bathroom. You’re about to close your eyes and drift back to sleep when you hear him say, “Cmere, baby.”
You blink your eyes up again and look towards the bathroom. Spencer is standing in the doorway, a warm washcloth in his hands.
“Here,” he says again.
You get up, stumbling a bit on weak legs as you make your way to the bathroom. He takes your arm when you get closer, pulling you into the bathroom and then pushing you down to sit on the toilet. He kneels in front of you, gently pushing your legs open.
You close your eyes as he presses the warm cloth to you, biting your lip softly. “That feels nice,” you murmur.
Spencer hums, his hands soft as he cleans you. He’s so gentle and caring when it comes to you. He’s not a dominant person in most of your day-to-day life, but when he does get like that, you always know it’s because you need it.
He’s so good at reading you, at knowing how you need to be touched and taken care of. You’re always so happy and content when he’s like this, because you know that he’s giving you what you need in this moment.
He starts to clean his own body, but you reach out and stop him. “Let me,” you say, smiling softly as you pull the washcloth from him.
He smiles back and leans forward a little as he lets you wash him. Your fingers move across his body, running up his thighs to his cock. It’s soft and sated, but you still press your lips to it as you drag the cloth over him. Spencer lets out a soft hum and his fingers slide through your hair.
“Thank you,” he says as you finish up.
You smile and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “I love taking care of you,” you say. “Especially after you treat me so well.”
He laughs and leans in, kissing you again. “I love that about you,” he says. “I love everything about you.”
You smile and kiss him again. “Come back to bed,” you say, climbing to your feet and then holding your hand out to him.
He takes it and stands, pulling you to him for one last kiss. “Of course,” he murmurs.
#missarchive#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds x reader#bau x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds
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Do you think Earthspark! Soundwave is gonna eventually soften up a bit about the human Laserbeak wanted?
I imagine that Lazerbeak, and Frenzy are gonna take pics of Soundwave holding the human relatively gently, and title it some thing like: Dad and the Cat He Didn't Want.
Then Soundwave is gonna see them snickering over their camera, and demand that they delete the photo. But they just kinda snicker, and run away with the camera. So he makes Ravage retrieve it for him instead.
He will eventually ease up the aggression some. But you’re a constant reminder that Megs defected for a human and your kind helped the Decepticons lose the war. He’s a tiny bit bitter about it
Skin and Bones and The Conversation are next for updates, but 48 degree treadmill run first
Son Of A Gun Pt 4
Earthspark Soundwave x Reader
• Venting on a growl as he works, his servos clench on the tool in his hand and accidentally bends it as the shrill scream of Frenzy’s guitar pierces the silence. Not sure how long he’s been bent over the new power converter, only that his joints are stiff as he straightens. Heading in the direction of the noise to tell them to stop, he rocks to a stop when he hears the laughter. How long has it been since he’s heard any of his cassettes laugh? Not since the accident. Everything stained and uncomfortable now all the time. He’s almost certain Ravage is the only one that doesn’t blame him.
• “I’m not going to stop until you try it,” Frenzy insists, pushing the guitar at you until you take it in self defense. “You’re holding it wrong,” Lazerbeak adds as you try to figure it out while they laugh at you. The other one, Ravage, nearby but keeping her distance. When you’d tried to stand to see if you could sneak away, her head had lifted to stare you down. Getting run down by an alien panther not even remotely appealing, because you suspect Daddy told her to keep you from running. Huffing, you strum the guitar and all three cringe and then laugh louder. “What was that?” Frenzy howls, waving her hands at you. Like you have any idea what you’re going?
• How can they be so relaxed around you? You’re their size, so they don’t see you as a threat to them. Lingering in the shadows, Soundwave wants to knock you down. Hates watching Frenzy and Lazerbeak try to coach you on her guitar. Like you belong with them, instead of being an intruder. As soon as Rumble’s repaired, you won’t be needed to fill that gap left behind. And he’s going to enjoy ridding himself of you. Swallowing a growl, he strides into the room and bends, snagging you by the back of your shirt as you cry out and Frenzy catches her guitar. While he wants nothing to do with you, he doesn’t want you corrupting his cassettes either.
• What imagined slight did you commit this time? Kicking only makes you spin slightly as he turns and heads back into his workroom with you. Anger issues daddy, seeming to only have two modes: annoyed and pissed off. “If I’m doing something wrong, you could just tell me to stop? Or, I don’t know, let me go?” You suggest, head craning to see his face, not that you can tell anything from it. The growl that rumbles from him, though? He’s pissed. Again.
• “Let you go?” Snarling, he flicks his servos so you go airborne with a scream and catching you again. Your terror not nearly as satisfying as he expected it would be as you cling to his servos, sobbing. “Don’t speak.” He adds, annoyed with you and himself. Moving to his workstation, he drops you on top and ignores you to resume working. Aware of his three cassettes in the doorway watching, drawn by your scream. And you are mostly silent, sitting with your back to him and trembling, breath hitching. The fact that those little noises make him feel guilty only making him angrier. You don’t belong here, they don’t need you. He doesn’t need you.
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Hi can i request the boys trying to court a oblivious reader
heres rafayel and here's somethign similar as well in case!!
Zayne knows he isn't exactly the poster child for most emotionally observant man on Earth but he likes to think that his signals are becoming more obvious that he wants to take you out, romantically.
When it starts to become clear to him that you aren't really understanding or comprehending that he wants to be more than friends he just decides to come clean. He'll talk about it overtly, telling you straight up that he wants to take you out on a date because he's interested in you romantically. He makes it literally impossible for you to misunderstand him, a little sad he couldn't make things slightly more romantic but he'll get over it.
Xavier doesn't really see the point in beating around the bush so it really isn't a big problem for him. He has no issue asking you point blank if you'd go on a date with him, making it clear what his intentions are for the two of you. If he wants to ask you out on a date and thinks that you'd be amenable to that.
He's been observing your body language for a while, trying to determine if the two of you are just friends or if there's a chance of things going well if he asked you on a date. He'll plan the moment of asking you perfectly, making sure that you have a feasible out if he misread your signals but of course he didn't. You like him just as much, even if you had no idea how obvious his crush on you is.
Sylus wants to be a bit of a romantic, leaving flowers and sweets and other overtly romantic gifts on your doorstep on a regular basis. You just think he's being friendly, overcompensating for the fact that he can't leave the N109 zone on a more regular basis. You don't really even entertain the thought that he could be doing that in a romantic manner, just glad that you have such a good friend in him.
He's expecting you to finally catch on, get that flicker of recognition in your eyes as you finally realise that he's in love with you and wants to do nothing but spoil you. However, when it starts to become increasingly clear that you aren't really aware of his intentions for you he'll grow slightly frustrated. He'll ask you if you're seriously unaware of his feelings for you, his statement just continuing to further confuse you.
He sighs, shaking his head at how oblivious you really are. He is mildly amused that somehow, it's taken him this long to realise you truly had no idea how he felt about you. He shakes his head, finally asking you out in a way you can't misunderstand but you also won't live it down.
#iove and deepspace x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x reader#zayne x reader#l&ds zayne x reader#lads zayne x reader#l&ds xavier x reader#lads xavier x reader#lads sylus x reader#l&ds sylus x reader#sylus x reader
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Forced Proximity
Synopsis: In which the strongest and reader confess their feelings.
Themes: female reader, mutual pining, longing, HEAVY TENSION, some conflict, friends-to-lovers. Fluff, little bit of angst, kinda slow burn. Didn’t proofread but if you find something it’s definitely your eyes or screen 🙏 enjoy !
wc: 3.9k
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When the news about floods and heavy rain rang through the halls of Jujutsu High, you never expected it to be much of an issue. Matter of fact, you thought it was like every other day during the Tsuyu season. Sighing, you took a look out the window from your classroom, coffee in hand, dreading the moment work is over before you’re drenched in rain.
You weren’t a teacher at Jujutsu High for long, only opting to take up the role since your long time friend and colleague, Gojo Satoru, was gone on missions quite often. When he came back, he was often tired and had discoloration around his eyes from the lack of rest, only for him to continue his work as normal, always putting a smile for his students in class. With you teaching, it gave him that time to rest a little extra before training his students one-on-one.
It wasn’t exactly a decision he agreed to, as he believed it was a burden he- as the strongest- should carry. It took many months before he finally considered your proposal. After all, you’d be safe at Jujutsu High, instead of fighting off curses in who knows where, right?
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“Oh come on Satoru,” you pleaded, reaching up to his eye level before being stopped by his infinity.
“Promise sweets,” he said with a dramatic sigh, reaching out to ruffle your hair before swiftly and effortlessly dodging your swat at his hand. “I’m fine. I’m the strongest, after all!” He flashed you a grin, his tone both playful and self-assured. He took out some candy from his pocket, popping it into his mouth before putting another right above your lips, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “C’mon, I know you want it.”
You frustratedly sighed, taking the candy and throwing it in the nearest trash bin. Crossing your arms, you gave him a pointed look as he quickly frowned, furrowing his brows in response. “Satoru, I’m bring serious. You can’t even tell me the last time you had 7-8 hours of rest. Or eaten a proper, nutritious, meal.” Emphasizing the last sentence, knowing he loves his sweets. (Of course the candy- not you. Right?) “Let me do this for you.” You pleaded, shoulders hanging in defeat.
His movements faltered for the slightest second before tilting his head back, humming in thought. “Well, I guess it’d be a nice vacation for you. Safer part of the job, no fighting curses, just keeping me company, aren’t ya?” His smirk all too knowing.
Sighing, you softly shook your head and rolled your eyes before giving him a look of worry. “I just.. I want to look out for you,”
He piped up in interest before swallowing another piece of candy he kept safely hidden. “Looking after the strongest will only get ya so far,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. “But why?” He asked, his tone shifting to genuine curiosity.
Now that, you couldn’t- wouldn’t- answer. Your friendship with Satoru was.. complicated. It was like walking a fine line between comfort and tension, one moment full of stolen glances and playful teasing, the next filled with casual flirtations- though, you were never really sure if that was just his way with everyone.
Most of the time, it was just Satoru pretending everything was fine when you knew he needed a break. He never let anyone see how much he carried, always wearing that smile. Most of the time, it was you two sitting atop of Jujutsu High, watching the sunset or laughing at a horror movie with stupid plots. Sometimes it was quiet walks to cafes or his favorite candy shops.
But right now? Now you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to make a decision. You glanced at him, hesitation in your tongue. Finally, you sighed and muttered, “Because you’re an absolute idiot.”
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“Attention all still at Jujutsu High,” a voice echoed through halls and classrooms, about 40 minutes after students resigned to their homes or designated rooms. “Weather conditions are not safe. I repeat, weather conditions are not safe. Please stay indoors until further notice.”
The thunder was almost impossible to miss, lightning making its way through the clouds, and heavy rain painting all that is Jujutsu High. Clearly, you weren’t going anywhere.
“Looks like I’m stuck,” you muttered, glaring out the rain-slick window. The storm outside almost seemed theatrical in its ferocity. Each flap of thunder rattled the walls of Jujutsu High, as if the world itself wanted to remind you that you couldn’t go anywhere.
A knock came from your door, an all too familiar one. Raising a brow, you sat up on your desk, crossing one leg over the other. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” A voice chimed in as the door opened. A voice too familiar, too smooth and unmistakably teasing.
You softly smiled seeing him come through the door, noticing he decided to opt into more casual clothing rather than his usual uniform and black blindfold.
“Satoru,” you greeted, your voice steady, though your heart did a little flip at the sight of him. It was almost unfair how effortlessly good he looked, even in casual clothes. A black coat paired with a white shirt underneath and black pants tailored to fit his lengthy figure. His hair, usually spiked and tall, looked softer- almost as though he hadn’t bothered fixing it before coming to see you.
He closed the door behind him with an air on nonchalance, leaning back as he crossed his arms. “Missed me already, sweets?” He teased, his lips curling into a lazy grin.
“You mean in the forty minutes since we last spoke?” You quipped, resting your chin in your hand, playfully grinning at him. “I’m not sure if I could have bared any longer without you.” You teased right back, your tone light but betraying a flicker of something deeper.
Satoru’s grin widened, his ego soaking up the attention as he leaned casually against your desk. “See? I knew you couldn’t resist me. I’m the highlight of everyone’s day as the strongest, after all.”
You rolled your eyes, but the playful glint in his expression made it impossible to look away. “Highlight? More like a recurring inconvenience.”
“Ouch.” He placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “And here I thought we were bonding. Guess I’ll just take my charm elsewhere.”
You chuckled, putting your hands up in defense. “Don’t let me stop you.” You replied, though the words lacked bite. If anything, the thought of him leaving sent a pang of disappointment through you. You quickly masked it with a smirk, hoping you wouldn’t notice.
But Satoru didn’t move. He stayed rooted in his place, his usual easy grin faltering just slightly. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than it should have, softening in a way that felt almost too intimate. The playful banter that defined so many of your interactions seemed to melt away, leaving something raw and unspoken.
“Actually,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant, “I think I’ll stick around.”
There was a weight to his words, a vulnerability that didn’t match his usual carefree demeanor. His tone lacked the teasing lilt you’d grown so used to, and it caught you off guard.
You glanced up at him, expecting another sly remark, but what you found instead made your chest tighten. His eyes, visible beneath his tinted glasses, were fixed on you- not with his usual amusement, but with a kind of longing he didn’t bother to hide. The storm outside roared, but in the silence between you, it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of you.
For a second, you thought he might say something else, something you weren’t sure you were ready to hear. But instead, he shifted slightly, running a hand through his hair in what felt like an attempt to break the tension.
“I mean, who else is going to put up with me in a storm like this?” He added, the teasing edge returning to his voice, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
You let out a shaky breath, a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your own emotions swirling just as chaotically as the weather outside. “Lucky me,” you managed, keeping your tone light even as your heart raced.
He smiled faintly, but it wasn’t his usual playful smirk. It was softer, tinged with something you couldn’t quite name. And as he leaned casually against the edge of your desk, the space between you felt charged. Like both of you were waiting for something to happen- a shy confession, a flirt, maybe even something more- something neither of you dared to name.
Thunder shook the walls of Jujutsu High, causing your desk to slightly tremble. The sound echoed in the silence, as if the storm itself was urging something to break.
Suddenly clearing your throat, you forced yourself to look away, breaking the eye contact that held you captive.
“Well!” You quipped, trying to shake off the heaviness in the air. Satoru’s gaze was no longer on you, but rather the rain outside. His features were softened against the dim light, his jaw- that was usually relaxed and quick to smile, tightened for just a moment- barely noticeable if you hadn’t been watching him so closely.
“You’re unusually quiet,” you ventured, your tone light but curious. It wasn’t like him to let silences linger, especially not around you.
He let out a low hum, finally turning his head toward you. “Just thinking sweets,” he said, his voice smoother now, though something about it felt guarded.
“Thinking?” you echoed, raising a brow. “That’s a dangerous pastime for someone like you.”
His lips quirked into a smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Funny,” he murmured, taking a step closer to your desk, his fingers brushing the wood as if testing its solidity—or maybe just grounding himself. “But even I have my moments.”
You tilted your head, studying him carefully. The Satoru you knew was always confident, always teasing, always larger than life. But now, under the weight of the storm, there was something quieter about him, something you weren’t used to seeing.
“Care to share?” you asked softly, folding your arms across your chest.
He hesitated, just for a second, his hand stilling on your desk. His glasses reflected the flicker of lightning outside, masking his eyes, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze all the same.
“Not much to share,” he said finally, though his tone lacked its usual bravado. “Just wondering how many more storms we’ll have to sit through before someone…” He trailed off, his smirk fading into something softer, almost wistful. “…does something about it.”
Your heart stuttered at his words, at the way they felt so much bigger than the weather outside. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, drowned out by the thunder that rattled the walls once more.
“Maybe… hypothetically,” you began, your voice softer now, as if testing the waters, “a little push could help. You know, fire things up, I suppose.”
Satoru’s lips quirked into a small smile, but there was something unreadable in his expression, something that made your cheeks burn. “A little push, huh?” he echoed, his tone low and teasing, though there was an edge to it, like he was daring you to say more.
You shrugged, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of his stare. “I mean, sometimes things just… need a spark to get going. Isn’t that what storms are for?”
His fingers drummed lightly against the desk, his gaze never leaving you. “Careful,” he murmured, his voice dipping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Playing with fire can be dangerous.”
“Maybe,” you countered, leaning back slightly to put some space between you, though the tension still thrummed in the air. “But isn’t that what makes it exciting?”
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the words hanging between you like the crackle of lightning in the storm. His smile faded into something softer, something that felt almost too raw to look at.
“You’re something else, you know that?” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. His words hung in the air for a moment, heavy and unshakable. “The storm.. it wouldn’t be easy.”
His gaze, fixed on you, was softer now, stripped of its usual teasing confidence. It was as if he wasn’t just talking about the weather anymore, and the weight of his unspoken thoughts sent a ripple of unease and anticipation through you.
You swallowed, your heart racing as you tried to decipher the layers behind his words. “No,” you replied quietly, your voice barely steady. “It wouldn’t be easy. But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth facing.”
His lips parted slightly, as though your response had caught him off guard. For once, he didn’t have a quick comeback, no smirk to hide behind. Instead, he shifted, stepping just a little closer, the space between you shrinking with each beat of the thunder outside.
“Sometimes storms destroy everything in their path,” he murmured, his voice so low it was almost lost beneath the rain hammering against the windows. “And sometimes… they make things clearer. Wash it all clean.”
You felt your breath hitch at the rawness in his tone, the vulnerability he rarely allowed to show. “Which one is this?” you asked softly, your voice carrying a hint of challenge but also something more—hope.
He hesitated, his fingers curling into a loose fist as though he were holding himself back. “That depends,” he said finally, his gaze never wavering from yours. “On whether you think it’s worth the risk.”
Every word, every glance, felt like it could tip the fragile balance you were both clinging to. “I do,” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.
And for the briefest of moments, Satoru looked like he might close the distance entirely, the hesitation in his eyes giving way to something fierce, something undeniable.
The storm outside roared, the thunder cracking loud enough to rattle the glass panes, but neither of you flinched. Instead, the silence between you seemed louder, charged with all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t find the courage to voice.
“You’re serious,” he murmured, almost to himself, the faintest edge of disbelief in his tone. His hand moved instinctively, brushing against the desk before retreating, as if he wasn’t sure whether to close the gap between you or hold himself back.
“Would I have said it if I wasn’t?” you countered, your voice steadier than you felt.
His gaze searched yours, his usual cocky exterior stripped away, leaving nothing but raw vulnerability. It was rare to see him like this, rare for him to let the mask slip. And yet, here he was, standing before you as if the storm outside had laid him bare.
“You really don’t get it, do you?” he asked, his voice barely audible, almost swallowed by the rain.
“Get what?” you pressed, your heart hammering in your chest.
He exhaled sharply, his hand running through his hair in frustration. “That I’m not afraid of the storm out there,” he said, nodding toward the rain-soaked window. “I’m afraid of the one in here.” His hand moved, just slightly, as if to gesture to the space between you, the unspoken feelings that hung like static in the air.
“I’ll be busy almost all the time, and the little time I do get, it’s to rest and train my students..” he began, worry filling his eyes. “And where would that leave time for you? For us?”
The confession hit you like a bolt of lightning, sudden and blinding. Your throat tightened as you tried to find the words, but nothing came.
“Satoru…” you started, but the sound of his name on your lips made him flinch, as if it carried too much weight, too much meaning.
He looked away, the flicker of worry in his eyes dimming as if he’d said too much. “It’s not fair to you,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost drowned out by the rain. “To expect you to be okay with… scraps of my time, with someone who can’t even promise to be around when it matters most.”
Your chest ached at the way his voice cracked on the last word, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. He wasn’t just pushing you away—he was scared. Scared of letting you in, of not being enough.
“Satoru,” you repeated, the sound of his name pulling his gaze back to yours. His expression faltered, the weight of his insecurities etched into every line of his face.
“Don’t,” he murmured, his hand lifting as though to stop you, but he didn’t pull away when you stepped closer.
“You don’t get to decide what’s fair for me,” you said firmly, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess them. “I know what this is—what we are. And I don’t care how busy you are, or how little time you think you have. I care about you, Satoru. Isn’t that enough?”
His eyes widened, his composure slipping further as the tension between you reached a breaking point. The storm outside seemed to echo the chaos in your chest, the thunder roaring like an unspoken promise waiting to be fulfilled.
“You make it sound so simple,” he said, a faint, shaky laugh escaping him. But there was no mistaking the way his shoulders relaxed, the way his hand finally reached out to rest on the edge of your desk, inches from yours.
“Maybe it is,” you replied, your voice steady despite the rapid thrum of your heartbeat. “Maybe you’re the one making it complicated.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, the vulnerability in his eyes giving way to something warmer, something that made your breath catch. His hand shifted, fingers brushing against yours—hesitant, tentative, like he was afraid to cross the line but couldn’t stop himself.
His fingers lingered against yours, warm and tentative, before he finally laced them together. The subtle touch sent a jolt through you, more powerful than any thunder outside. His grip tightened slightly, as though he feared letting go would mean losing something he couldn’t afford to.
“You really think it’s that easy?” he asked, his voice quieter now, yet laced with an edge of disbelief.
“I think you’re worth it,” you said simply, the words carrying more conviction than you thought possible. “I’m not asking for perfect. I’m asking for real—for you. Isn’t that enough?”
He let out a breath he didn’t seem to realize he was holding, his free hand brushing through his hair in a rare display of vulnerability. The usual smirk that would have accompanied your boldness was nowhere to be found. Instead, his lips parted slightly, his brows furrowed, as though trying to comprehend the weight of your words.
“You have no idea what you’re signing up for,” he muttered, shaking his head. But his fingers stayed locked with yours, betraying the battle between his mind and his heart. “It’s messy. I’m messy.”
“Then I guess I’ll learn to handle messy,” you replied without hesitation, stepping closer. The space between you was nearly nonexistent now, the storm outside a mere echo to the one building between you. “You don’t have to do this alone, Satoru.”
His jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “You’re not making this easy,” he said, his voice wavering.
“Good,” you said, your tone soft but resolute. “Because the things that matter never are.”
For a moment, his expression cracked, his usual cool façade shattering under the intensity of your gaze. His hand let go of the desk and rose slowly, hesitantly, as if unsure of its place. But then his fingers brushed against your cheek, his touch featherlight, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he pressed too hard.
“Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?” he asked, but there was no malice in his words, only a quiet reverence that made your heart skip.
“Because someone has to be,” you whispered, leaning into his touch without thinking.
The silence stretched between you, charged and trembling, until he finally broke it. “You’re going to ruin me,” he said, the faintest hint of a smirk returning to his lips.
“Maybe,” you said, your voice a little breathless. “But isn’t that what makes it exciting?”
And then, before either of you could second-guess it, he closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that felt both hesitant and inevitable, like the meeting of two storms destined to collide.
His lips were warm against yours, soft and deliberate, like he was testing the waters of something he had fought against for too long. The world outside seemed to dissolve—the thunder, the rain, even the walls of Jujutsu High—leaving only the two of you in the center of it all.
When he pulled back, it was barely an inch, his forehead resting against yours as his breath mingled with your own. His hand still cradled your cheek, thumb brushing gently along your skin as though grounding himself in the reality of this moment.
“I’m not sure what’s scarier,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with emotion. “The storm outside or how much I don’t want to let you go.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled softly, your hand reaching up to cover his where it rested against your cheek. “Then don’t,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the chaos of feelings threatening to overwhelm you.
He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply as though he was surrendering to something he’d fought for too long. “You make it sound so easy,” he said, the corners of his lips twitching into the faintest smile.
“It doesn’t have to be hard,” you replied, letting your fingers trail down to intertwine with his again. “We’ll figure it out—together. Like we always have.”
The vulnerability in his eyes was replaced by something lighter, something hopeful, and it made your chest tighten. For once, Satoru Gojo—the strongest sorcerer you knew—looked like a man who believed he could rely on someone else.
“Together,” he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue like a promise.
The sound of thunder rumbled again, but this time it felt distant, less intrusive. Satoru straightened, his hand slipping from your face but staying firmly locked with yours.
“Well, we’ve already survived one storm,” he said, his usual teasing tone creeping back as he gestured to the window. “What’s a few more, right?”
You chuckled, shaking your head at him. “Always so dramatic.”
His grin widened, though it didn’t quite mask the sincerity lingering in his eyes. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips. “Unfortunately, I wouldn’t.”
The two of you stood there for a moment longer, the storm outside gradually fading into a softer rhythm. It wasn’t a resolution to everything—there were still obstacles ahead, uncertainties and fears to navigate—but it felt like the beginning of something real.
Satoru squeezed your hand, pulling you toward the door with a newfound ease in his step. “Come on,” he said, flashing you a playful smirk. “Let’s see if we can find something to eat before the next storm rolls in. And maybe you can tell me how you plan to ‘handle messy.’”
You laughed, letting him lead the way. “Oh, you’ll see.”
And as the two of you walked down the hall, hand in hand, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, the storms were worth it after all.
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Ugh it’s been so long since I’ve written and I’ve been so invested with my job. Anyways, here’s this piece for Gojo! 🩷
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu gojo#jjk satoru#satoru gojo#gojo fics#gojo fluff#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x reader fluff#satoru gojo x reader#gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjkxreader#jjk fluff
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hi there, English is not my first language but I hope you will understand me.I have a request for a nico one shot about reader being in a friend group and slowly getting left out and eventually getting replaced. at first she didn't tell nico bc she didn't want hit to worry but neeks slowly noticing a slight change in a reader behavior and ask reader what's wrong. at first reader don't want to talk about it but at the end the whole bubble breaks and reader is sobbing and crying in Nico's arms. I hope you understand what I mean.Btw i LOVE all your fanfics, I hope it's not too long, thank you in advance ❤️❤️
he had noticed the slight shift in your routine. suddenly you were home more, a little clingier, asking if you could tag along with him and the guys more often. none of which mattered to him. if anything, nico loved the extra time spent with you. but you just seemed…sad.
he realized you hadn’t mentioned any plans with your friends recently, at first just chalking it up to him being on a stretch of home games and you wanting to spend your time with him before he had to leave again. but when he was on the road for the better part of a week, and you were home, in your pjs every night he called you, he knew something was up.
“schatz, can i ask you a question?” nico asked you after dinner one night, having sensed your overall demeanor was off all day.
“sure, you know you can always ask me stuff,” you turn to face him, leaning into the plush couch.
he thinks about how to word his question without sounding accusatory or like doesn’t enjoy the increased time together. “well…i’ve just noticed, you’ve been home a lot more lately and i haven’t heard you talk about the girls much recently. is there a reason? or are you just so obsessed with me you can’t bear to be apart,” he tries to add humor to offset the serious connotation of the sentence.
your body goes rigid, surprising him. you won’t meet his eyes, your hands coming together to pick at your fingernails. he watches the tears prick at your eyes, alarm bells going off in his head.
“i-, no, it’s nothing. just, no plans lately,” you say, voice strained, still not meeting his eyes.
he watches your lip tremble, knowing there’s more to the story, but not knowing if he should push the issue or accept the answer. he brings a hand over to rest on your knee, rubbing his thumb back and forth in a soothing motion.
“okay, i was just curious. didn’t know if something had happened or if you just wanted more nico time,” he chuckles, trying to relieve some of the sudden tension, no humor found in the situation.
his attempts were futile, because the second the words left his mouth you broke down, falling forward into his arms. he held you as you sobbed on his shoulder, slightly shocked at the sudden outburst of emotions.
“hey, shhh. it’s okay, sweet girl. i’ve got you, okay? i love you,” he tried to reassure you, lifting you to fully sit on his lap. he let you purge whatever emotions needed to be let out, not pulling back from the tight embrace until you did.
he’s met with your puffy, red eyes. he can feel the wet spot on his shoulder, but ignoring anything that isn’t you. brining his hands up, he wipes away the wetness on your face, squishing your face together while pulling it forward slightly, giving you a salty kiss.
“you know i love you, right?” he asks you as he pulls back from the kiss, earning a small nod of your head.
“i love you too,” you rasp out, bringing your own hands up to run down your face, wiping your own tears. “sorry about all that i just…been holding that in for awhile.”
nico removes some hair that was sticking to your cheek, shaking his head. “what’s going on, sweetheart?”
you take a deep breath, suddenly embarrassed. “it’s stupid, really. i mean, i’m a grown woman, i shouldn’t be upset over something so trivial,” you start, a humorless laugh escaping you.
“no, we’re not doing that. if it’s making you feel like this it’s important, it doesn’t matter what it is,” nico responds, slightly scolding you. “just tell me, maybe i can help.”
you smile at his words, heart swelling with love for the man in front of you. “well…basically i don’t think i have friends any more? i mean, i don’t know. for the past few weeks i quit getting invites. i thought at first maybe it was a lull in plans with the whole group, but when i saw them posting they were out for drinks one night and i checked the group chat to see that the group chat…didn’t exist anymore, i realized what was happening,” you start, shrugging.
“i messaged each of the girls individually, but no one responded. then it turned into taking digs at me in their captions on their pictures from dinners, nights out, events i was never invited to. no one ever told me why. or if i did something. one night we were at the bar grabbing dinner and drinks while you were on the road and the next, i was booted from the group chat and never to be spoken to again,” you tell him, knowing it’s all over the place and confusing, but it’s the truth. one night you were laughing and chatting with your best friends. the next, you were sitting alone at your apartment, watching them get together without you.
“it’s so middle school mean girl coded, but even at 24, it hurts. i know i don’t need those type of women in my life, but they’re my friends, neeks. at least…i thought they were,” you started tearing up again, feeling nico squeeze the hand he was holding.
nico’s heart breaks for you, knowing how much you loved your girls. he can’t imagine who, in their right mind, would just kick someone as caring, sweet, and loving as you out of their life for seemingly no reason.
“oh, my sweet girl,” he brings you back in for an embrace. “you’re too good for them, you know that?” he tells you, meaning every word.
he always had some issues with your friend group, but he never voiced his concerns, because he didn’t want to upset your or seem like he was being controlling. he could tell they were always just…off though. always wanting to tag along with you to hockey games, wanting a box when you told him you liked sitting down in the crowd better. they always changed plans you suggested, doing what they wanted instead of what you wanted. only ever wanting to attend get togethers at yours and his apartment if other guys from the team were gonna be there.
“it just sucks, neeks. i mean, how pathetic? i’m a grown woman who has no friends and her only social life revolves around her professional athlete boyfriend? i feel like such a leech,” you admit.
nico sees red, wanting to go and give all of those women a piece of his mind for how they’re making you feel.
“listen to me, don’t you ever say those words to me again, do you hear me?” he fusses at you, as serious as he’s ever been. “you’re the farthest thing from a leech. i want you around me all the time. i want you to tag along to every event, every team outing, every game. i enjoy spending my time with you, and getting to have you to myself every night.”
your heart swells once again, having been worried lately you were being too clingy.
“those women? they’re the pathetic ones. if they can’t see the absolute gem of a person they had around them, then they’re the ones who should be ashamed,” he looks you in the eyes as he speaks, willing your brain to soak in and listen to every word.
“i love you,” is all you can think to say in response, not knowing how else to express your feelings in the moment. you lean in to touch your lips to his, wishing to convey every ounce of thankfulness, love, and appreciation for him through the kiss.
he kiss you back softly, pulling back after a few moments.
“so, now that that’s settled, you wanna go out for drinks with me and the guys tomorrow? think a few of the other wives and girlfriends are coming, too. might be fun?” he asks you, already concocting a plan to find you a new, trustworthy group of girl friends.
“hmmmm, let me check my schedule, i might be booked and busy,” you joke, his words having made you feel light as a feather, any sadness working its way out of your body.
he rolls his eyes at you, letting out a playful growl as he attacks your neck with kisses, earning a laugh out of you.
#don’t like how i ended this#but oh well#hope you enjoy !!!#nico hischier#nico hischier fluff#nico hischer x reader#nico hischier x you#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier blurb#nico hischier fanfic#nico hischier imagine#nico hischier one shot#nico hischier x y/n#nh13#hockey#nhl#new jersey devils
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okay idk if i’ve just been on the internet for too long and can’t wrap my head around this new gen but I genuinely couldn’t give a fuck about all this ‘matt is terrifying’ shit. like everyone saying “if i was there i’d be uncomfortable” but you weren’t there?? like you witnessed siblings interacting on a video?? you weren’t in the room?? what boundaries were crossed for you?? don’t watch it?? idk if that’s a brain dead take but i genuinely don’t find it that hard to process. like people love to play therapist and say he’s got scary anger issues and is probably ABUSIVE? like hello???? as someone who has ( tw trauma dump lol) literally been with and escaped an abuser, throwing words around like that is the real terrifying shit, not siblings smacking each other up a little on camera
anyways love u, merc x
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Training Wheels
Masterlist TW: neglect, but mostly fluff
Ridin' down, ridin' down My hand on your seat the whole way round I carry Band-Aids on me now For when your soft hands hit the jagged ground Wheels aren't even touchin' the ground Scared to take them off, but they're so worn down Promise I won't push you straight to the dirt If you promise me you'll take them off first
'Come on Jon, hurry up we're almost there.'
You remember the time when you first saw Jon when he was playing games with Damian. Let's face it, you were downright in love with him, you didn't really knew how to deal with it since you've been deprived of that since birth.
You've always thought of him as a night in shining armor. He'd always bring you gifts in your birthday, sometimes give you books to read when you're bored. But it was satisfying for now.
I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you
There's no doubt in the world that you love him. You'd laugh together, sometimes take you to the movies, and even invite you to his farm for lunch during recess. But you, you loved him, you wanted to stick with him forever and didn't want anyone to ruin the moment.
Some might say you're stupid for relying on a boy who is friends with the very people who've neglected and abandoned you. But no one can stand on the way of love right?
Lettin' go, lettin' go Tellin' you things you already know I explode, I explode Askin' you where you want us to go You've been ridin' two-wheelers all your life It's not like I'm askin' to be your wife I wanna make you mine, but that's hard to say Is this comin' off in a cheesy way?
You loved the fact that he is dating you, but you'd never know if he felt the same way. So far in your relationship it's based on wishful thinking. Who's to judge a now-legal adult for being in a relationship with a person she's been head over heels for?
But what you didn't know was that Jon truly love you and cherish your memories together. He even has his own job where he can afford a 10 karat princess-cut sapphire ring. (Also thanks from stealing Conner's money.) He prepared your guys future together as parents, while you were prepared to let him go with the assumption that he doesn't love you.
I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you I love everything you do When you call me fuckin' dumb for the stupid shit I do Wanna ride my bike with you Fully undressed, no training wheels left for you And I'll pull them off for you
You'd be surprised with how much he has prepared for your future together.
Damian, on the other hand, paid no mind to you, and failed to notice Jon's past attempts into dating you. He remains completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend is dating the girl that no one would bat an eye for.
10 years later...
Your wedding was completely peaceful since it was held in a small chapel in Metropolis. Only the Kents including Alfred and some trusted friends were invited to the party. And by trusted friends you meant the whole damn Justice League without the bats.
'I Y/N take Jon as my lawfully wedded husband to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part'
'I Jon take Y/N as my lawfully wedded wife to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do us part'
Cheers could be heard even from outside the chapel. But the bats never truly knew why the whole League didn't attend the meeting and instead called in sick, out of planet, or family issues.
It was only until they saw in the news:
'MS, or should I say MRS WAYNE KENT JUST GOT MARRIED AND THE WHOLE WAYNE FAMILY DIDN'T ATTEND!'
A/N: this was actually one of my favorites of Crybaby
Taglist
@lunayaps, @not-aya, @iluvcatzz, @vanessa-boo, @ivyrose9194,@thesehandsarerated-e, @eyeless-kun, @errorunfound1, @gwyneveire
#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batfam#yandere bruce wayne#yandere damian wayne#yandere richard grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere barbara gordon#yandere tim wayne#gifs#neglected reader#melanie martinez#crybaby reader
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Shopping with different OP characters!!
GN! reader, established relationship
warnings: stealing, doflamingo is an ASSHOLE
Includes: Crocodile, Nami, Doflamingo, Law, Kidd
My materialistic side really shows here💀
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Crocodile
You had been begging Crocodile to take a break and go out with you all day. He really wanted to get work done, but just to shut you up, he finally agreed. You get all dressed up for a luxurious private dinner and afterwards the two of you take a walk through the city for some shopping, which is always fun with Crocodile’s bottomless wallet. As you’re walking, cozy underneath his big coat, a beautiful top catches your eye. You run up to the store window in awe of the striking piece that looks like it was made just for you.
“Wow, look at this one…” you say, trying to avoid flat out asking for it. You give him your best puppy dog eyes, fluttering your lashes as you blink innocently.
He knows what you want and responds, “you have a strange taste in fashion, but I’ll tell you what,” he chuckles and pulls out his wallet, “I’ll buy it for you if you let me choose something I want to see you in.”
You feign surprise, widening your eyes as you answer, “Really?” He laughs and pats your back, leading you inside the store.
Nami
Nami always ends up spending too much Beri when she goes shopping, and it’s even worse when she’s with you because she just can’t say no. So when the crew docks at a new island, the two of you agree not to spend any money on new clothes. Of course, a high end boutique catches your eye and you give Nami a mischievous glance, communicating you were gonna go in whether she wanted you to or not.
“I only want to try stuff on, I swear!” You exclaim over your shoulder.
“Fine, but don’t even try to convince me to pay for anything!” Your girlfriend tries to act annoyed, but her wide grin reveals her entertainment at your antics. Every time you show interest in something, Nami takes it into the dressing room next to you. You thought it was weird because the two of you have fairly different tastes. When you eventually leave the boutique, She pulls you close and opens her purse with a giggle to reveal all the clothes she had shoplifted for you. “See babe, I told you I wouldn’t pay for anything!”
Doflamingo
It’s a lazy Sunday morning for you and the King, lounging in bed with silk robes and the finest quality coffee. You’re flipping through a magazine while he reads some book about war strategy. “Doffy, what do you think about this one?” You ask. You don’t even have to consider money, Doflamingo can afford anything.
“Hmm…” he thinks for a minute, “I don’t think that’s your color.” You sigh. He always has to control everything. “What about this?” He points out something much more pink and extravagant.
“Why does everything always have to go your way?” You whine, fed up with his ego.
“You need to look good next to me,” he states firmly, putting an arm around your shoulder. “I have a reputation to uphold. Are you seriously not willing to sacrifice your fashion taste in exchange for everything else I give you?” The last thing you want is a fight, so you just rest your head on his chest as he calls in an attendant to order his picks for you.
Law
You had managed to drag Law to the mall with you, promising to go to the pawn shop with him afterwards to look for rare commemorative coins for his collection. When you see the cutest, chubbiest seal plushie ever, you know you have to have it. The only issue is that you have no money. Holding it behind your back, you turn to your boyfriend. “Law,” You begin your pitch, trying to look as cute and convincing as possible. “You really, really love me, right?” You tease.
“Of course I love you,” he answers, “but what are you scheming?”
You reveal the plushie to him and squeeze its cheeks. “I need this.”
He tries to hide his amused smile from you - you look so cute when you’re happy and he suddenly has the best worst idea ever.
“No, you don’t need it. You want it.” He takes the plushie from you. “Maybe another time, sorry babe.”
After a long day with your boyfriend, you had forgotten all about the seal plushie. The two of you arrive home and when he shuts the door he turns to you with a wide grin.
“What’s that look for?” You question playfully. He reaches into the shopping bag you made him carry and pulls out the chubby seal. You grab it from his hand and give him a lighthearted slap to the arm. “Law! You liar!”
Kidd
“Kidd, look at this!” You call to him while adjusting a choker around your neck. “Should I buy it?” You immediately regret showing him when a mischievous gleam lights up his eyes.
“Buy it?” Kidd taunts, reaching over to fasten the choker for you before grabbing several more. You’re frozen in place as he decks you out in accessories.
“What are you doing?” You question, “We can’t afford this!”
“You look cool!” He ruffles your hair and grins before whispering, “Now leave quick while I’m distracting the cashier.”
“Are you crazy?!” You whisper-yell. (Even though you already know the answer is yes.)
A shopkeeper interrupts your bickering, making you jump. “No playing dress-up in the store! Either pay or leave!” He scolds.
“Okay, bye then!” Kidd says to the shopkeeper before effortlessly throwing you over his shoulder and disappearing out the door.
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Thanks for reading!! Sorry for the doffy part
#one piece headcanons#one piece x reader#sir crocodile#crocodile x reader#sir crocodile x reader#cat burglar nami#nami x reader#donquixote doflamingo#doflamingo x reader#doflamingo x you#nami x you#crocodile x you#trafalgar law#trafalgardwaterlaw#law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#eustass kid#eustasscaptainkid#eustass x reader#kidd x reader
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