#also yes chapter five will be up later

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 9 (part one)

(Rafe Cameron x reader series, 7k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

All that met you when you woke was anxiety and a sharp, thumping headache. It was such a depressing paradox to the peaceful way you’d woken up in this same bed on your first morning here, a thousand fucking lifetimes ago. Your whole body ached as you sat up in bed, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin on one. 

The bed felt empty. Strange, since you hadn’t ever shared it with anyone. 

Your eyes, puffy around the edges from tears and exhaustion, scanned the dimly lit room. You were startled when you saw it - the little box of candy sitting on the dresser, unopened and completely forgotten. Even more startling was the sudden pang of craving you had for it. You pulled the covers from your legs, immediately missing their warmth, and padded quickly across the room to fetch the candy.

After adjusting the heavy curtains to block out as much of the midday sunlight as possible, you crawled back under the blankets, tearing the package open. Little crystals of sugar went flying, their unnatural dyes and chemicals surely staining the white sheets. But that was some faceless Airbnb owner’s problem.

You ate the candy fast and messy, completely indulging your childish desires and ignoring any regard for moderation or tooth enamel. Fingers sticky and jaw aching, you chewed and licked until there wasn’t a morsel of artificial sweetness left in the box. 

The candy didn’t help your headache, yet somehow it still made you feel better. A small gift on a day of mostly unpleasant surprises. Ironic, since the person you had to thank for the treat was the one who caused the tears.

You’d have to face him eventually, there was still a question to be answered. That problem was entirely your own, and one you weren’t anywhere near ready to face yet, so you sunk back down in the sheets and let the sugar crash knock you back out.

The second time you woke up, the sun was setting outside your window, your mouth dry and sour from the sugar and oversleeping. You sat up and chugged some water from the bottle you kept on the nightstand, think about how you should probably go downstairs, see what everyone’s up to, check in with Carter. Yes, that’s what you should do, so why was your body not rising from the bed?

You checked your phone: 7:12 pm. The day was basically over. In the span of it, you’d fallen in and out of love, had your heart broken, and slept for nearly twelve hours. And, as the pang in your stomach was so aptly reminding you, you hadn’t eaten anything since Rafe made you eggs so many hours ago.

Your phone screen also showed you had about ten texts from Carter, checking on you and asking if you were okay. You opened them and sent a half-hearted “I’m good. Just catching up on sleep from the crazy semester.” 

Another growl of your stomach and you opened a different app, double checking the house’s address before confirming your order of one large pizza - pepperoni and onions, extra cheese. The delivery estimate was forty-five minutes. Perfect.

You had gotten through one episode of your favorite show when the doorbell rang downstairs, just as you’d expected. A few seconds later and a knock on the door finally pulled you from the bed, your legs like jello from being dormant for so long. You threw on Topper’s U of F hoodie and padded towards the knocking.

Carter stood outside your door, your hot, steaming pizza in hand.

“Delivery,” she smiled tightly when you opened the door.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the pie and opening it to smell the treat that was awaiting you.

“Glad to see you’re not dead up here,” she joked.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just tired.”

She didn’t buy it, you could read the concern all over her face, but there was nothing you wanted less right now than a lecture from her about everything that had happened with Rafe.

“We’re doing a whole crab boil down there, why don’t you just come down and-”

Actually, no. The last thing you wanted in the world right now was to sit across from Rafe, cracking crab shells and pretending nothing that happened had happened. You couldn’t bear to see him, not yet.

“I’m just gonna stay up here tonight, okay?” You smiled despite the questioning look she was throwing you, silently pleading with her to just drop it and let you be.

“I knew this was gonna happen,” she frowned, hands landing on her hips in an indignant pose. She clearly wasn’t going to just drop it.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before saying “you knew what was gonna happen?”

“I knew he was gonna hurt you, and now you’re spiraling out again. God, I’m gonna kill him-”

“I’m not spiraling,” you interrupted her. “I just want some alone time. I’m having a good time actually, I’m just watching some -”

“You’re holed up in your room, just like in high school, rotting away while he’s just down there hanging out and having a good time like he did nothing wrong. So fucking typical of him. Just come downstairs, don’t let him do this to you,” the look of pity in her eyes was enough to make you sick. 

Taking a deep breath, you set the pizza down on the top of the dresser, turning back to Carter with a stoic expression.

“Car, listen to me,” you said. “He’s not ‘doing’ anything to me. This is not just like high school, because I’m not who I was in high school. I know you’re used to taking care of me, but believe it or not, in the four years we’ve lived apart, I’ve actually gotten pretty good at taking care of myself. This is not a cry for help, it’s not me isolating and spiraling. This is me taking care of myself, and it might not look like how you take care of yourself, but we’re not the same. Please just go downstairs and let me do what I need to do. I’m not a hurt little kid who needs saving, okay?”

Her brows knit tight, she scanned you from head to toe, like she could pick out any deception in your words by sight.

“Fine,” she said. “I’m glad you know what you need. But…just, don’t hide away for too long, okay?”

“I’m just gonna do what I need to do tonight, and tomorrow we can get back to our fun trip, okay?” You promised.

She thought about it for a long moment, you knew she was having trouble not asking you what had happened when you were gone this morning. The two of you hadn’t even discussed Cassie’s arrival yet, and the millions of texts from her when your phone finally turned back on told you she had plenty to say, but right now you just needed for her to say nothing. Which she must’ve understood, because she finally nodded and slipped back downstairs.

The rest of the evening was spent watching your comfort show, eating your pizza and blocking out the muffled voices of the group wafting in from the patio through your window. Cozy in the blanket of solitude you’d wrapped around yourself was enough to eventually lull you into a decently restful sleep. Curtains on today, tomorrow would be better.

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The empty mattress was cold against your reaching hand. You woke up reaching for something, you weren’t sure what, the foggy dream you’d just had slipped away with the darkness as a stripe of sunlight leaked through the blinds and right over your closed eyelids.

With a groan, you sat up. You had done the whole self-care thing, a night in, letting the emotions settle and tears dry, and as you’d promised Carter, you should probably get back to the trip.

Blinking in the bright bathroom light, you turned the faucet on and ran some cold water over your face. The chilly water waking you up, you patted dry and blinked your eyes open into the mirror.

It was immediate, the way your gaze dropped to your own neck in the reflection. Right there splattered above your collarbone- three purple splotches in the shape of Rafe’s mouth. A constellation of reminders that you’d been so close to truly being his.

You gasped, fingertips flying up to skim over the tender spots. Flashes of your time with him in the car came back to you, your legs pinned to either side of his waist and his lips pinned to your throat. A swirl of desire and regret churned in your stomach at the memory. 

By your best estimate, it had been about forty-three minutes total. Forty-three sets of sixty seconds that you’d been happy, known he was yours, kissed him and been with him and felt good about all of it. Forty-three minutes between him confessing his feelings for you and him dropping your hand in front of Cassie.

A wave of sadness crashed into you with no warning, one thought echoing in your mind, so loud and sad it robbed the air from your lungs; forty-three minutes would be all you’d ever get.

Hot tears stung your cheeks as they fell quick and heavy. You didn’t bother finishing your skincare routine, or trying to self-soothe with some kind of platitude. You'd been perfectly, blissfully happy for forty-three minutes and you’d never be that happy again. You shuffled back down the hall and into bed, stopping first to pull Topper’s hoodie back in, as if keeping the hickies out of sight might make them heal faster.

Fuck greeting the day, fuck trying to end the trip on a positive note. Grief climbed over you and pinned your limp body to the mattress, clobbering you until the tears turned to dry, ragged breaths. You pulled out your laptop and restarted your comfort show. Maybe you’d just stay here, in the darkness, until the memory of him and the marks he’d left with his lips faded in time.

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The mattress sunk with the weight of someone climbing into bed next to you. For the briefest of moments a hope that you knew was absurd flashed across your mind - maybe it was him.

“Good morning,” Carter’s voice whispered, squashing the silly thought.

You didn’t open your eyes to greet her, just readjusted in the bed to face away from her, pulling the covers higher over your chin. 

“Time to rise and shine,” she poked your side, an annoying, cutesy sing-song effect added to her voice.

“No thank you,” you grumbled into your pillow.

“Okay so get this,” she continued chipperly, ignoring your denial. “You know how Jack’s family owns like a bunch of resorts and country clubs and shit? Well they own this bougie ass golf resort in Miami and he got us in for the day so we can go golfing and to the spa with all the millionaires.”

“You hate golfing,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, but we don’t have to actually golf,” she waved off your logic. “It’s just about wearing cute outfits and looking hot on a golf cart.”

You rustled in the sheets, turning on your side to face her.

“As inviting as that sounds, I’m gonna pass,” you said, settling in to go back to sleep.

“No, no,” she reached out to pull the covers off of you, making you groan in protest. “You said you were only gonna be sad for a night, and that today we’d have fun. Well it’s today, time to stop being sad! And you like golfing, so let’s go.”

“I’m not sad,” you lied. “I’m just tired and I don’t want to go.”

“Come on, we’ve barely spent any time together and I’m leaving soon.” Ah, so she was finally pulling the guilt trip card, you wondered when she’d make that play. “Also we have a lot to talk about, we haven’t even discussed the wicked witch of the west blowing into town.”

Despite your current annoyance with her, you laughed at this, no need to clarify who she was referring to.

“It’s because I’m trying not to think about her, actually,” you said, pulling the comforter back over your shoulders. “Let me get back to my dreams where she’s far, far away in munchkin land.”

Carter tsked, pulling the covers down yet again. You shot daggers at her with your glare, the game already getting old.

She sighed, “I know Rafe dropping your hand in front of Cassie really put a damper on things, but I just really think it’s time to move -”

Your eyes narrowed, sitting up against your pillows in surprise.

“How do you know Rafe dropped my hand in front of Cassie?”

Carter’s eyes widened when she realized the slip up she’d made, suddenly lost for words, which was a rare issue for her.

“I just…we were gonna come down and then….” she stumbled over her explanation, hoping you’d allow her sentence to fizzle out, but your questioning glare didn’t give her any reprieve. 

“And then?”

“We kind of…heard you. You and Rafe when you came in from wherever you were,” she finally admitted.

Your jaw ticked, nodding without meeting her gaze, your passive aggression palpable.

“Who’s ‘we’?” You asked, avoiding her eyes and pulling back out your laptop to load up your comfort show.

“Me and Topper,” she pulled at a loose thread on your comforter. “And some of the others, but only for part of it. I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have listened, but I was worried about you.”

“How much did you hear?” You said flatly, collecting the remaining information like a medical intake form, assessing the potential damage of the mortifying story she was telling.

“Me and Topper heard, like, all of it,” she confessed. “Everyone else heard just some pieces.”

You and Carter didn’t fight, you never yelled at her, but the frustration and betrayal bubbling in your chest was threatening to end that streak. You needed a distraction or you’d lose it entirely. Hoping she’d take the hint, you pressed play on the show, shutting back down. She lingered though, pushing the conversation to the exact place you’d hoped it wouldn’t go.

“I mean what he did sucked and you should be pissed, but, you were only holding hands. At least you didn’t like hook up with him or anything. Things can just go back to the way they were before the trip. You didn’t hook up with him, right?”

“Right,” you half-lied.

Your anxiety over potentially having just decieved your sister manifested itself into the cartoonish image of a courtroom in your mind, your pencil-skirted lawyer standing between you and the judge: “your honor, the term “hook-up” could mean any number of things. If my client’s sister had wanted the whole story, she should have been more specific.” 

But you knew Carter, any version of the story that didn’t include every juicy detail may as well have been a knife in her back, she’d be pissed if she found out. Subconsciously, you adjusted the hood of your sweatshirt, pulling it higher to ensure it fully covered your neck.

She had eavesdropped, and you had lied. It would all come out in the wash. At least, that’s what you decided to tell yourself.

It didn’t matter anyway, you realized with a fresh dose of unbearable sadness, because you and Rafe would never be together like you were this morning again.

You twisted quickly in the bed, angling away from her so she didn’t see the tears welling on your lash line and turned up the volume on your show.

She stayed in the bed for a while, trying a few more times to start conversation and coax you to join them on the golf trip, but you’d perfected the art of the cold shoulder, blocking out her every attempt to get you to get out of the bed.

After maybe thirty minutes, she sighed and crawled out from under the covers, pulling out her phone as soon as she was outside your door and texting Topper: it’s worse than we thought.

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“Did you try telling her -”

“I’m telling you, I tried everything. She just shut me down. She’s really mad I think,” Carter’s face was pinched tight with worry as she whispered to Topper outside your door.

“Okay, well maybe, I dunno, you’re just not the person she wants to talk to right now…” he suggested, eager to help but hesitant to upset her any further.

“What, you think you’d fare better in there?” She snapped.

“I mean, I could try,” he shrugged.

She considered this. Maybe it would be beneficial to have a neutral party. Or maybe you’d scream at him, but either way he’d at least get more of a reaction out of you than she did, right?

“Fine, be my guest,” she motioned towards your door.

Topper knocked lightly, eliciting a delayed “um, yeah?” from your voice behind the door. He slowly opened it and slipped inside.

Only a few minutes later, he emerged from the room, his face ashen, wide eyes skittishly avoiding Carter.

“Well?” She pried.

“I don’t think I was the person she wanted to talk to either,” he said vaguely.

“Did she say anything?” She pressed.

“Oh, she said a lot of things…” he scratched the back of his neck, still not looking at her.

“Maybe she’s mad at you too, for eavesdropping,” Carter puzzled. “Maybe we need someone who didn’t hear much of their fight.”

Knocking on doors down the hallway, Carter coaxed the rest of the group, minus Cassie, Sabrina, and Rafe, who were nowhere to be found, out of their rooms and into Mission: Impossible - Get You to Leave Your Bed.

They each agreed, albeit reluctantly, to tiptoe their way into your room and try and talk you into coming out and joining the golf trip. One by one they emerged defeated. Not only had they not convinced you of anything, it seemed from Carter’s perspective that you had your own mission - to drag them all down into an existential crisis with you.

No new information to provide Carter about you, they each came out with some new insecurity that you’d talked them into.

Maddie was first, coming out with sad, round eyes and asking Carter, “do you think I’m smart enough for med school? What if I just wasted the last four years being pre-med?!”

Then Jack, who came out with his hand on his face, “do you think I should reverse my nose job? What if my face never looks normal again?”

Even Tom attempted to warm you up, telling Topper, “I think she’s right, I am only in finance to get my dad’s approval. Why doesn’t he love me for me, man?”

With each friend who returned from a conversation with you full of anguish, Carter and Topper exchanged worried looks. What exactly was going on in that bedroom? You were just one girl, one who typically wouldn’t hurt a fly, and yet this morning you’d apparently chosen violence, no one safe from your emotional carnage. 

Also with each friend who emerged defeated, Topper suggested calling in Rafe for reinforcement, only for Carter to shoot the idea down. But he’d never seen Tom spiral like this, and it was his final straw. He disappeared into his room with some excuse about needing to check on the afternoon’s tee-time.

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Rafe hadn’t run in years. At least, not like this. 

Sure, he went for a jog now and then or opted for the treadmill between leg and back day every so often, but he hadn’t done this kind of no-holds-barred, all-out-sprint since he was an athlete, and the burning in his lungs was reminding him why. 

Plus, running provided all this space for his mind to wander. When he was lifting or doing some high intensity shit, he didn’t have time to think. An open road and nothing but his own two legs? The opportunities for his brain to spiral were endless.

Still, today he kept running, the sand of the long beach kicking up with each heavy step. He’d peeled his shirt off over a mile ago, sweat pooling everywhere possible as breath became more and more illusive. He could feel the early morning sun burning the tops of his shoulders, he knew he’d pay for not wearing sunscreen later.

Every time he was tempted to stop, some invisible force nipped at his heels, propelling him forward. It felt peculiarly like nightmares he’d had as a kid, though this time it wasn’t a monster chasing him, but something much more elusive and indefinable. And he knew if he stopped, it would all catch up to him; everything he’d been trying to avoid for years. He wasn’t sure he’d survive the ambush.

Music blared through his headphones, a playlist he’d listened to so many times that he barely heard it anymore. Suddenly, the music cut, his phone buzzing against his thigh in his gym shorts pocket. 

Thankful for the excuse to slow down, he pulled out his phone to check the text, it was from Topper: dude something’s up with her, u gotta come help us. we’re trying to get her out of bed, she won’t talk to anyone. but she might talk to u

Rafe’s breathlessness suddenly had nothing to do with overworking it on the cardio. He didn’t expect you to be a ball of sunshine the day after he’d done something so stupid to you, but he didn’t understand what Topper meant by “somethings up.” The fact that he was positive he was actually the last person you’d want to talk to right now only added to his shortness of breath.

It was all wrong, none of this happened the way it was supposed to. And now he’d possibly broken you for good. Maybe it was time to pack his bags.

To add insult to injury, standing along the shoreline, only about ten feet in the distance, was the other girl who’s heart he’d broken, glowing in the sunrise and looking like a goddamn marble statue. Jesus Rafe, he thought, you really know how to lose ‘em.

He tried to duck out of sight, but she had already clocked him, standing at the edge of the water in her stylish swimsuit and wrap looking like a fucking greek goddess. She was the ideal female specimen, and yet, as he noticed with curiosity, there was nothing in him that was attracted to her. If anything, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. But she smiled softly and raised her hand in a polite wave, and despite what you may believe now, he wasn’t a total asshole.

Giving her a small wave back, he approached the shoreline, matching her stance looking out at the water. The moment was silent and awkward for just a second, Cassie flicking her hair off her shoulder and digging her toe into the sand as Rafe searched helplessly for words.

“You look good, Cass,” is what he finally landed on.

She looked at him, shielding her eyes from the sun. He expected her to tell him he looked good too, a smile already forming on his lips as a response to her incoming compliment.

“You’re an idiot, Rafe.”

“I- wh- what the fuck?” He was so thrown he couldn’t even find words to express it.

“You were with her yesterday morning when you saw me, right? Like with her with her?” She surmised, a small upturn of her lips at his confused look.

“I’m sorry you saw that, I tried not to make it weird for you. I didn’t know you were gonna see us,” he stammered, the misplaced pity in his voice only making her laugh at him more.

“Rafe, you dumped me four years ago,” she chuckled. “Believe me when I tell you I’m over it. Also, considering the fact that you dumped me for her, I really wasn’t that surprised to see you together.”

“I didn’t break up with you for her,” he corrected, reiterating a point he’d made a thousand times, and had yet to successfully convince her of.

“Oh c’mon Rafe,” she turned towards him, hands on her hips in exasperation. “Let’s not do the whole ‘I just needed to focus on college’ thing again. We’re both adults now, can we just be honest? You dumped me because you were in love with her. And based on the look on your face yesterday before you noticed me, I’d say you still are.”

A deep crease wrinkled Rafe’s forehead as he avoided her gaze, feeling like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He actually thought he did a pretty good job keeping it from her, but apparently she’d clocked it easily, even all those years ago.

“So you knew? Like the whole time?” He mumbled.

Cassie scoffed, “I was a bitch in high school, but I wasn’t stupid.”

“You weren’t a bitch,” he tried to console her, though she didn’t need it, her easy smile making it clear she’d made her peace with this fact.

“You should ask her if she thinks I was a bitch,” she gestured up toward your bedroom window. “I think she’d agree with me, seeing as she was pretty much my main target.”

“Yeah, you could’ve been nicer to her, I guess,” he conceded.

“You could’ve too,” she pointed out.

A spark of shame flared in his gut. You had tried to tell him back then, tried to explain the ways Cassie mistreated you behind closed doors when nobody was looking, but he always brushed it off. Eager to have an excuse to avoid confronting Cassie about it, and if he was being honest, summing it up to a girl being oversensitive. God, maybe he was the bitch.

“I’m sorry if it made you feel weird yesterday, seeing us together. I was trying to get out of the moment without hurting anyone and I think I may have hurt you both,” he explained.

Cassie just shook her head with a small smile, he had grown physically since the last time she saw him, but he still had the social awareness of a seven year old.

Silently, she raised her left hand, displaying the massive emerald cut diamond on her ring finger, “I mean it when I say I’m fine, Rafe.”

His eyes widened, blinded by the diamond’s sheen in the sunlight. It must’ve been five, maybe six carats.

“Holy shit,” he grinned. “You’re, uh…”

“Getting married,” she nodded. “When I said I was over you…”

“No, yeah, message received,” he chuckled, feeling foolish.

It dawned on him slowly, the realization that seeing him with you had no impact on Cassie at all, except maybe to confirm suspicions she already had. There had been no good reason to drop your hand after all, he wasn’t sparing anyone’s feelings, he was only hurting yours. And now because of it, he may have lost you for good.

“Shit,” he groaned, his shoulders falling.

Cassie gave him a sympathetic look, reading the regret all over his face.

“Was she mad?” She clued.

“Um, yeah, more than I’ve ever seen her,” he said.

“Good. It’s about damn time,” she huffed.

Rafe’s brow furrowed in confusion, stunned by her words and apparent lack of sympathy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffed.

“She should’ve given you shit a long time ago, Rafe. She deserves to give us both a hard time actually. But now that you guys are together -”

“We’re not together,” he blurted out, surprising Cassie and himself with the statement. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Rafe. You still haven’t told her how you feel? God, I swear, Cameron, you’re dumber than you look.”

“No, no, I did. I told her, I asked her to be with me. But she - then I…I think it’s too late,” he struggled with his words like he was new to the language. 

Cassie nodded, making a nearly inaudible “hmm” noise that he recognized well. It was the same noise she’d made when he talked about you back then, letting him know she clearly had more to say but was holding back.

“Say it,” he smirked at her familiar mannerism.

“Oh, nothing…”

“You’ve got no poker face, Bryant. Never have,” he jibbed.

“I just think…I don’t know,” she stalled. “It’s really not my place, and I’m definitely not going to pretend I really know her, but I don’t think you wait for someone for fifteen years just to throw in the towel over ten seconds of stupidity. Which it was, really stupid” she gave him a disapproving look, which he accepted, knowing she was right, “but still…you have your flaws, Rafe, god knows I know that. But I still think you’re the kind of guy a girl would wait for. And I think she’s the kind of girl you don’t give up on.”

Rafe took in a deep breath, his eyes grazing back over the horizon, considering her words. He couldn’t help but blush a little at the way she said he’s someone worth waiting for. It was the nicest thing anyone’s said to him in a long time. And her point about you being the kind of girl he shouldn’t give up on? That was the truest thing anyone had said in a long time.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned his head towards her slightly.

“What?” She rolled her eyes at his obvious amusement.

“Are you…dare I say…rooting for me and her?” He teased.

Reluctantly, she smiled back, her lips twisted into a knowing grin as she watched some jet skiers a few yards off shore. 

“Falling in love made me soft, okay?” She defended herself.

“I’m happy for you,” he told her. “I really am.”

“I’m happy for you too, Rafe,” she said earnestly. “Or I will be, when you get your head out of your ass and go up there and make things right with her.”

Nerves twisted in his stomach. He knew you didn’t want to see him, knew you’d push him away, knew he deserved it. But if he left here without trying, without fighting for you, he’d never forgive himself. 

He passed a sidelong glance at Cassie’s ring. It was strange, you all really were at the age where things like marriage and families, things like forever, were suddenly real and within reach. It should make him nervous, should make him spiral into an existential crisis and hide from commitment. But when he thought of you, it didn’t feel strange, because with you forever had always been real, and if it wasn’t meant to be, then the universe was going to have to pry it from his fucking hands.

Cassie gave him an urging look, nodding back towards the house as if to say, “it’s now or never, dude.”

He nodded, a deep breath and a thankful smile to his ex, and ran towards you.

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Yet again, your bedroom door opened with someone emerging who wasn’t you. Running out of options, Carter had sent Kelce in. Maybe he could annoy you into getting out of bed, it was worth a shot. She didn’t really expect it to work, but she definitely didn’t expect him to come back out sniffling.

“Kelce, are you crying?” She asked him, disbelief raising her voice an octave.

“When did your sister get so mean?” He asked, voice cracking.

The group tried and failed to stifle their laughter. Topper threw his arm around Kelce’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey guys we need to normalize men crying,” he scolded the group. “Even if they sound like little girls when they do it.”

Laughter echoed through the hall again, Kelce storming away indignantly, nearly bowled over by Rafe, who appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs. 

He was still shirtless, half-dried sweat making his sculpted torso glisten under the hallway’s lights. A body that made even the straight men on the second floor swoon a little.

The laughing stopped immediately at his arrival, Rafe’s sweaty, shirtless form breaking through the huddle.

“She still in there?” He asked Topper, his face serious as hell.

“Yeah man,” Topper answered.

“You’re probably the last person she wants to talk to right now, Rafe,” Carter snipped.

“Kinda looks like you are, actually,” Rafe shot back at her, gesturing to her position on the other side of the hall, making her jaw flex with the force of the scowl she aimed at him. “Give me five minutes.”

Rafe slipped through the crack in your door, shutting it firmly behind him.

“Sorry, but I thought it was time to bring in the big guns,” Topper gave Carter an apologetic smile.

“‘Big guns’ is right,” Maddie giggled, fanning herself dramatically at the memory of Rafe’s figure. “I mean, goddamn.”

Carter slumped against the wall, arms crossed, hating the whole thing, hating him.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

“Oh my god,” your heart raced at the sight of Rafe, half naked and panting, bursting into your room. You pulled the blankets higher over you, feeling suddenly exposed even though you were the fully clothed one between the two of you.

“Good morning,” He chipped, throwing your curtains open and flooding the room, making you cry out his name in protest, hiding further in your bed.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You groaned.

“Can we talk now, please?” He asked, standing in the window, his sculpted body illuminated by the Florida sun, framed by the glinting rise and fall of the ocean in the distance. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel. It made you angry, knowing there was too much history to be able to justify getting out of bed and climbing into his arms, which if you were being honest was all you really wanted to do at that moment. “Have you thought about my question from yesterday?”

Suddenly, you weren’t pissed at him for dropping your hand, or for the prom thing, or any of the other similar stories that accompanied it, enough heartbreak to write a book of memoirs. You were mad at him because he asked you the question: “are you my girl?” in the first place and now, looking up at him, you knew how you needed to answer.

“No.”

“Look, I know I did something shitty, but it’s been like twenty-four hours now and if we could just talk -”

“No, Rafe. I’m saying, I have thought about the question, and the answer is no. I don’t want to be with you. I’m done.”

He just stood there, he just fucking stood there, looking down at you for a full minute before reacting. 

When he finally did, his bottom lip stuck out as he nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets and strolling casually across your room. Moving slowly, he stopped to survey the jewelry, makeup and other knick-knacks on your vanity, running his fingers over them like a restless kid in a store. You sat in bed with a furrowed brow and watched him with confusion, his muscular shoulders relaxed as they finally shrugged in response.

“No,” he shook his head, turning back to face you.

“I don’t remember asking you a question,” you were sitting up against the headboard now, arms crossed as you glared at him from under the hoodie.

“Have some coffee, think it over, we’ll talk about it,” he rambled, so casually it made your blood boil.

“I have thought about it! I’ve been in here for a whole day thinking about it,” you gestured around the room to emphasize your point.

He sighed, leaning back against your dresser on his arms, his triceps flexing as he looked down at you in the bed, “nah you’ve been in here hiding. What are you even doing?”

“I’m fine, Rafe,” you rolled your eyes. You hadn’t wanted to open up to any of the people who had come into the room before him, but you wanted his sympathy least of all. Good thing, you suppose, because he didn’t give it to you.

“I didn’t ask you if you were fine, I asked you what you were doing,” he said plainly.

Once again, Rafe was surprising you. You assumed when you saw him again, he’d be groveling, begging for you back, and you’d have to push him away. But here he was, not a hint of longing in his voice, just a blank face and a carved body you couldn’t believe was actually real. He wasn’t begging for you back, if anything he was being a little rude. God, what was wrong with you that it made you want him a little more?

“I’m watching TV,” you stammered dumbly, using your last sliver of willpower to direct your eyes to the laptop screen and away from him. “And getting over you.”

“Turn it off,” he responded. “And get out of bed.”

“I don’t know if you heard me just now, but I rejected you,” you were starting to get angry now. What was really pissing you off was the fact that out of everyone who’d come in here today, Rafe was the only one matching your energy. And it was successfully throwing you off balance. “I don’t know why you’re even still in here.”

“Yeah and I don’t know if you heard me, but I said no. If you wanna pissed at me, fine. But I’m not giving up on you and you’re not gonna spend the rest of this trip in here rotting because you’d hate yourself for wasting your last few days with Carter by freezing her out. So get up.”

“Stop acting like you know the first fucking thing about me, Rafe,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up straight on the mattress, the closest you’d been to getting up all morning.

“Oh don’t I? Really,” he looked around the room, gesturing towards the half empty pizza box from the night before, “pepperoni and onions? Extra cheese?”

“Okay, so you’ve seen me order pizza before, that doesn’t mean -”

“And I betcha I know what show you’re watching, the one you played like a million times junior year. Except you’re skipping the season finales because you don’t like endings. Which is how I know you’ll be so mad at yourself if you let Carter leave for the UK without making some good memories here with her.”

Rafe walked to the edge of the bed, resting forward on his hands and leaning toward you, the mattress sinking under his strength, causing you to slide towards the spot he was pushing it down. “You done with me? Fine. But I’m not done with you, so I’m not leaving this room until you get out of the fucking bed.”

“Get out,” you said through gritted teeth, scrambling to fight the forces of gravity and scoot away from him.

He only pushed the mattress down harder, making you tumble towards him, “no.”

You used your arms and feet to push yourself away from him as much as you could, needing desperately not to touch him, not to remind your body what his felt like, determined that you’d never let yourself feel him again.

His eyes were steely, expression fixed. He wasn’t leaving, and you’d never be able to overpower him physically, all you had left was a verbal defense.

Your chin wobbled with the angry tears you were failing to fight back, and for the second time today, you lied to protect yourself, “I hate you.”

He nodded that same, pursed lip nod, standing straight again, just looking down at you with an immovable defiance. 

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated.

Heart pounding with regret and adrenaline, you scooted back to the edge of the mattress. A disbelief that you’d just said what you said and the nauseating desire to crawl into his arms and beg for forgiveness, even though you knew you should stand your ground, you rose shakily from the bed. Needing to get away from him, and whatever version of yourself you’d just turned into. Desperate to escape with as few people seeing you cry as possible, you pushed past the crowd outside your door without a word and beelined toward the bathroom for a long, hot shower.

A few moments later, Rafe emerged from the room as well, holding the pizza box and other trash collected from your hiding place. 

“Woah you did it,” Topper congratulated him. “How’d you get her up?”

Rafe ignored him, his eyes on Carter, who watched him with a suspicious glare. He didn’t speak, disappearing back down the hall. Once he’d tossed your trash, he stood at the sink trying to breathe and make peace with what just happened, what you’d said to him.

As the ocean waves crashed violently outside the wide kitchen windows, a similar uneasy tide rose in his chest, threatening to spill over and destroy everything in sight.

Before he knew it, he was running again. He made it a half a mile down the beach before the inevitable caught up with him, squeezing his chest with a sharp pain. He doubled over, gripping his heart and wincing as the muscle constricted, his heartbeat erratic and vision blurry from lack of oxygen. His knees slammed into the hot sand as his body crashed out one limb at a time.

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“Rafe? Rafe, are you okay?! Rafe!!” 

(to be continued)

a/n: okay ik this part is a lot of establishing things for the next part but part two will be nice and juicy and even have some giggles and good times

please note the taglist for this series is closed. for updates when I post, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs <3

[robinsgrl]

FEARLESS

chapter five. best friends and naked babies

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pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 1.4k + texts!

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, daddy issues, ward cameron 😒

authors note ⇢ genuinely love this series. it’s my current fav tbh. anyway, hope you guys are enjoying! love yall fr <3 EDIT: also forgot to mention that im rewatching love island thanks to @judesgfirl cause of her new series mentioning it lol yall should go read it, im already in love!

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“So are you and Rafe friends now?” It’s Sarah who speaks, making you flinch slightly. Kiara was sprawled on the blonde's bed, legs up and blowing random sounds through her fluttering lips. You had been at her vanity, looking at the expensive makeup she has. All high end.

The original plan was to give you a makeover with said high end makeup but her bed had been too comfortable and the AC felt too nice. Before you knew it, you all were sprawled tiredly around her room and were scrolling through your phones as a soft song played through Sarah’s phone.

“Uhm… sorta?” Is your plain response. This makes her push up on her elbows, staring through you with an intense look. “I mean… yeah, we’re friends… sorta.”

“My brother doesn’t have friends.” She admits freely, leaning back on her bed frame. “He has people he drinks with that later turn into people he fights when he has drinks with them.”

“So I should avoid drinking with him?” You hope the joke lands. It doesn’t. The look on her face is a dead serious one. You sigh loudly. “Look, we’re not friends. He’s helping me.”

“Helping you?” It’s Kiara who speaks up this time, her phone landing on her chest as she looks at you from her awkward upside down angle.

You shrug, feeling that familiar shame bubbling up in your chest. “Yeah, he’s helping me.”

“How so? Context, babe, context.” Sarah’s perked up, no doubt wanting to know more about your friendship with Rafe. Although, you believe you’re much less than whatever a friend is considered.

Trying to avoid the topic, you add, “he’s not my friend. Scar hated it when I told others that we were friends. People knew it. She just hated having it said aloud.”

“And you think Rafe’s going to be the same way?” It’s Kiara who asks this, clearly dumbfounded, now lying on her stomach to watch you from her position.

“Wouldn’t he? He’s popular. He’s hot. People kiss his ass. That’s what Scarlett is.”

Kiara’s about to speak up when Sarah interrupts her. “Wait, is that why you didn’t want to eat lunch with me last week?”

Biting your bottom lip, you nod. Sarah Cameron is a name that everyone knows. That everyone respects. Or that everyone kisses ass to, at least. You and Sarah Cameron at the same table would lead to more ridicule. You’re her friend in secret, not out loud.

“That’s insane,” Sarah sighs. “We’re friends, __. I don’t care who knows it. You’re the coolest girl I’ve ever known at that stupid school.”

“Says no one ever.” You let out an awkward laugh. The compliment makes you feel a sense of pride but you’re not used to it, making you want to crawl into a hole and hide.

“Says me.” Kiara adds. “And JJ. And Pope. And Cleo.”

“And John B.” Sarah jumps back in. “He thinks everyone works for the government but not you.”

This makes you laugh, shaking your head with amusement. The last time you all hung out at the chateau, John B had smoked and was going on and on about the government and its evil doings. You were too high to really pay any attention to his rambles, busy on Pope trying to do a sexy dance for the group.

“So, are you saying that I can go around saying you’re my bestie?” There’s a joking air to your tone as you say this. Her response catches you off guard.

“Yes, you can. Because I’ve been going around saying it. Now I look like a chump. I was parading us while you were denying us.” She dramatically clutches onto her chest and drops herself onto her bed and on Kiara who laughs and tries shoving her off.

Kiara gives up on pushing her off so she looks up at you from her awkward angle. “Look, you’re one of us, remember? Scarlett survivor.”

“Scarlett survivor.” Sarah chimes in and holds her fist out to you. You look up from her fist and up to the bright and hopeful smile on her face. For the first time, a girl is smiling at you and she holds no malice. It’s not a fake smile. It’s not forced. It’s genuine and full of adoration.

Awkwardly, you lift your own hand up, fist out and pounding hers. “Scarlett survivor.”

“Not available. Come back another time.” Rafe’s rougher voice sounds muffled through his side of the door. You bang on it again.

“Let me in!” You sing playfully as you tug and jiggle his door handle. There's a sigh from behind his door before a familiar click is heard.

You’re smiling up at him when he opens the door up, leaning against the doorframe, blocking the view of his room with his bigger frame. “What do you want?” You’re about to frown but you refuse to do it, suddenly worried about how you look after his comment. “Why are you making that face? You look constipated.”

“I’m trying not to frown.” You answer as you bring your hand up to your mouth, covering it shyly.

With a sigh, he pushes up off the doorframe and lets his door open wider. You’re about to take a peek into his room when his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling it off of your face. “I said it was cute.”

“On Flo.” But he doesn’t respond as he pulls you into his room and closes the door behind him.

His room is empty. Void of any personality. Beige and simple. The type of look that your mother decorated the guest rooms which are never used since she refuses family from coming over. Stiff. Uncomfortable.

“Didn’t take you for a beige man.” Are the words that come out of you. Regrettable words but you can’t take them back now.

“I love beige. Beige is my favorite color.” His words are monotonous, watching you as you walk across his room, taking it all in.

You scoff out a small laugh, “beige isn’t a color. That’s a tint.”

“Beige is my favorite tint.” A laugh bubbles out of you at his words. You’re never sure when Rafe’s cracking a joke with you but he’s funny, without trying.

You turn to him from the opposite side of his king size bed. Far too big a bed in your opinion but voicing that doesn’t seem like a great choice at that very moment.

“My room is the same way.” You decide to be open with him. It’s a weird feeling, bearing yourself to someone but Rafe’s never looked at you in the way most men look at you. With a sneer of disgust. “It doesn’t feel like home. There’s no need to decorate a space, or make it yours, if you don’t feel that sense of belonging.”

There’s an intense look on his face that you don’t want to keep being on the receiving end of. Instead of continuing your conversation, you plop down onto his bed and tap on a key of his laptop, igniting it. “We’re watching Love Island. The girls fell asleep halfway.” You’re typing the familiar show onto his screen, clicking the episode you were on.

It takes one pat on the bed by your hand for him to follow suit, laying on his stomach and eyes on the screen. It's quiet between you two as the familiar narrator recaps the last scene. Your shoulders are touching, room dark but lighting your face as you watch intently. You’re engrossed in the episode when he speaks.

“Ward got rid of my stuff.” His voice isn’t soft but it’s not as loud and confident as it usually is. “My first year of college. We fought. The biggest fight we’d ever had. I had taken my essentials. Anything I left behind… he destroyed it. Said I wasn’t allowed back and anything he destroyed was his to begin with.”

There’s a pit in your stomach as he recounts the story. Your heart aches. You’re angry for him. Sad for him. There were rumors, as there is in the Outer Banks, but you never believed it to be true. Yet, there was always something off about their family appearances. You believed your mother to be insane and gossip fueled when she uttered words to you at the Kook events you were forced into. But this settles it for you. Ward Cameron is undeserving of the life he has. And it hits you. Why Rafe wants the championship ring that your step-father has in his office. He wants his fathers recognition. His fathers approval.

The look on his face as he watches the show tells you he doesn’t want to keep talking. Instead, you tangle your arm around his bicep, laying your head gently on his shoulder. The tension in him visibly slips away. You pretend not to notice as you keep watching the dating show in silence.

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[love-of-the-red-star]

That time I got reincarnated as an Aeon

(Series)

Chapter five: Discovery Channel (In which you find out you have fans)

Warnings: Idk sort of Hi3 lore spoilers? Void Archives is his own warning

Why the hell did you even bother to think you could fix the absolute red flag that’s the divine key sitting on the chair next to your bed?

The more the Kirschtaria look alike spoke, the more you were convinced he should have been booted off the train. Too bad you couldn’t let your intrusive thoughts win in the meantime— Welt doesn’t know just how worse this guy could get, shared goal be damned.

“Okay so uhh, you were with Welt to fight a bunch of people in the sky right?” You said, trying to go along with whatever the fuck he was saying— it wasn’t like you didn’t know what they were doing beforehand, but it was easier to pretend you didn’t know shit.

“Yes, and we were in luck because Himeko had saved us.” He said, smiling. For a moment you would have been utterly bamboozled but you knew better.

You thanked your new brain that functioned as fast as a supercomputer, because you knew everyone in this train would be dead meat if you were slow.

“I see… that’s good to know she managed to get to you in the nick of time then.” You told him with a light hearted laugh, you swore that the more he looked at you, the more suspicious he became. If you were going to kick this man off the train it would have to be a vote of majority, but since he wasn’t acting up just yet you were going to postpone that meeting.

He was still on your watchlist, though.

Void Archives opened a bottle of expensive looking whiskey and poured it on a cup, and then another, and handed one to you.

“A toast.” He said, but you heard “An offering of friendship”. It was at least good to know he knew he shouldn’t fuck around with you.

You accepted the glass, drank it and grimaced.

“Not a fan I see.” He shook his head as if to mourn your lack of taste in the finer things in life. But what would he know? He’s a cube.

“I don’t like it, but I can drink it.” The taste of the whiskey burned in your throat. “Tastes a little funny though.” You murmured, Void Archives didn’t react much to your statement and continued to drink til he emptied the bottle.

It took him an hour, but at least the empty bottle signified he overstayed his welcome in your room.

“Let us meet again tomorrow morning, I want to speak with you soon.” He told you before he left.

Good grief, what a creep.

———————————

You never did end up speaking to him, instead heading towards Welt Yang, who you want to vaguely warn.

“I know you knew Void longer than you know me,” you began, but you already know Welt was more likely to believe you than the cube. “But keep an eye on him, he gives me a bad feeling.” Plant the seed of doubt, slowly but surely, so that the damage to the express can be minimized.

“I’ll.. keep that in mind.” Welt inhaled, stiffly nodding at your words as you patted him on the back.

“Great! Also, if things come down to it, you have my say in kicking him off this train.” You grinned, waving before disintegrating into particles as you returned to your original body.

Famous last words to be spoken.

Because five years later, on a Christmas Eve of all occasions, shit happened. And Void Archives was booted off the train like the red Amogus on a community vote.

Was it chaotic? Yes. Was it like a court hearing than an actual community vote? Also yes.

You had plenty of evidence presented, including the first instance you invited him to your room— because what do you know, the whiskey he gave you was drugged.

He did plenty of horrible shit, and even Himeko, poor patient Himeko, had enough.

You felt a little bad for Welt though having to deal with the aftermath, needless to say, everyone, except you, needed therapy on that train.

On the upside, someone better did replace the blonde and that was Dan Heng who joined you a few weeks before Void Archives was booted off the express.

“Well,” you blinked. “That was something.” You said out loud as Dan Heng shook his head. “Sorry you had to meet that guy.”

Dan Heng brushed it off, instead focusing on staring at the Christmas dinner that Pompom prepared for everyone and poked the turkey on his plate with a fork, before properly digging in.

It wasn’t exactly an ideal way to start your holidays and welcoming someone in the crew properly in a celebration, but you supposed it’d have to do.

It was at least one less toxic bitch off the train.

——————

You didn’t expect you’d deal with your own information being displayed in the databank though. Dan Heng wasn’t creepy about it at least, not that he knew you were an Aeon— specifically, the Aeon that ate Akivili (you still feel bad about that).

“Libertas, huh.” You let out a snort as you read your own little book. In there, it was written on how you were discovered, and what you stood for, along with a group that eventually became your followers.

You hummed, thinking it was rather endearing to see the Avgin there as some of your believers. It was interesting on how you got a following, no matter how small, in the few decades you existed in this world.

It wasn’t just the Avgin, there were others who you did not know too who believed in you, and others who you did see when you had peered into planets to see what people were up to.

It was sweet in a way, for them to cling to you for belief as they sought true happiness in the way of freeing themselves and others.

You wanted to keep it that way.

You read into the pages more, finding out what kind of worship people dedicated to your path; there was a statue of you in one city in some planet hundreds of light years away, in another planet there was you in a tapestry, in another you had a statue and a painting inside of a massive church akin to the ones you saw in photos of Rome.

It was a little overwhelming, and you felt a little shy at the recent discovery of all of this.

You closed the book and put it back on its shelf, exiting Dan Heng’s room to ask Pompom for tea after helping them with their chores.

—————————

Unbeknownst to you, Dan Heng knew you were an Aeon— and an Aeon he believed in in some way when he had heard of you in the whispers of the guards in the recent years he’s stayed in the Shackling Prison. It wasn’t exactly difficult to piece things together with the context clues around the place, not to mention, Himeko did end up telling him.

You wouldn’t be angry about it, she said to him. You were apparently rather human-like, and kind.

Himeko wasn’t wrong, and Dan Heng was going to trust that judgement. Is he wary? Yes, you’re an Aeon after all, you were plenty big of a deal.

But Pompom didn’t seem to be scared of you, and Welt spoke to you with a sense of respect. You regarded everyone in this train with a certain familiarity— Dan Heng did feel like you were a bit strange due to the feeling of “uncanny valley” you gave him, but you were kind to him and you were welcoming.

He was welcome in this place, he had a place to stay, and a purpose, as meager as it was.

Dan Heng thinks things would be alright from now on.

————————

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI (HERE), Part VII, Part VIII

Yeeeee this took a bit!!! Thanks for the wait yall, I know it’s calm rn, but it’ll get rowdy again at some point I promise.

[hungermakesmonsters]

The Red Ribbon

Chapter One

Plot Summary : By day you’re Billy Russo’s clumsy PA, but by night you’re a host at New York City’s most exclusive gentlemen's club. At The Red Ribbon everyone is anonymous and masks conceal the identities of patrons and hosts alike. But your two lives are about to collide and Billy Russo is about to see a whole new side of you without even realising it..

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smutty behaviour. All chapters will deal with smutty themes and include mentions/suggestions of sex work/work at a gentlemen's club (don't like, don't read). Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 6k

A/N : This is a little something I've been toying with for a while. It's only going to be a short thing (3 parts) over the next few weeks. There's no upload schedule but it'll probably be posting on Fridays anyway 😅 Also I've been ill all week so that's my excuse for typos

Master List

Chapter One

“Remind me why I hired you?”

His voice was a cold snap that caused your cheeks to burn with embarrassment. Even on his birthday, your boss was an asshole.

Your hands trembled as you tried to restack the files that you’d clumsily manage to drop all over his office floor. The contents of the files had spilled out and you already knew that it was going to take you hours to make sure the correct paperwork ended up back where it was supposed to be.

“It wasn’t a rhetorical question,” he added a moment later. “Why did I hire you?”

“Because your other assistants keep quitting,” you muttered under your breath.

It was humiliating, scrabbling around on his office floor, the carpet scrapping your bare knees as you tried to pick everything up as quickly as possible.

“What was that?” He asked.

It was reasonable to guess that he hadn’t heard you - you were certain he would have been a lot angrier if he’d heard you. Still, you hated yourself for letting it slip out. As much as you hated the way your boss treated you, the pay was good. Too good to quit.

“I said I’m sorry Mr Russo,” you answered softly, managing to grab the last of the files and get back to your feet. “I’ll get these sorted and have them on your desk first thing in the morning.”

“I hope you’re planning on staying late.”

“What?” The word spilled from your lips before you had the chance to stop it.

“Do you have somewhere else to be? Something more important than fixing your fuck up and doing the job I pay you to do?” Mr Russo asked.

As a matter of fact, you did have somewhere else to be and something that was more important than fixing the potential Anvil candidate files that you’d managed to dump all over his office floor, but you couldn’t tell him that.  

There was only one person who knew how you spent your nights, and it certainly wasn’t your boss. No, if Billy Russo knew where you went after your days at Anvil, he’d see to it that he had your resignation in his hand by the end of the day. And you were sure the same could be said of your night job.

“No, Mr Russo,” you answered, dropping your gaze to the floor, “I don’t have anywhere more important to be.”

“Good answer,” he said as he grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and pulled it on. He moved towards his office door, stepping past you as if you were just another piece of furniture, a spare chair in the way. “And don’t even think about leaving that unfinished. I’ll be in at 5am so you’re not going to have the opportunity to sneak in early tomorrow to finish up.”

He didn’t even wait for a half-hearted ‘yes, Mr Russo’ before leaving for the day.

You glanced at your watch, doing the maths in your head; you should have been finishing in ten minutes time, at five o’clock, which would have given you three hours to get home, eat, and then get across town to work your night job.

The Red Ribbon was New York's most exclusive gentlemen's club - though to call it a gentlemen’s club was somewhat outdated as, these days, it catered to the needs and desires of wealthy clientele regardless of gender identity and sexual orientation. But, it had been considered a gentlemen’s club since the 1950s, and the verbiage was surprisingly hard to shake. 

The club offered something that few similar establishments did; total anonymity for both guests and workers. There were no cameras in The Red Ribbon, no phones or recording devices were allowed. And everyone wore masks. The only way to tell the staff from the clientele were the red ribbons worn about their necks.

You’d been working at The Red Ribbon for the last six months. At the start you’d tended bar, not wanting to get too hands-on with the customers - not because you had any strong feelings or moral objections about those that did, but mostly because you didn’t think you’d be any good at it. You’d never been the sort to consider yourself graceful, much less sexy, but you could make a mean espresso martini and you were great with pointless smalltalk. 

The money was good, but it wasn’t good enough, not when you had debts and financial obligations. 

At The Red Ribbon, the hosts made the most money, each getting assigned to one of the private rooms and being tasked with taking care of the customers' needs for the whole night. It was ultimately up to the host what taking care of the customer entailed though boundaries were firmly established before the host set foot in the private room. Every host had their own limits, some were happy to touch and be touched, some took it further still, and others preferred a hands-off approach.

If there was one thing The Red Ribbon was known for beyond the total anonymity it offered, it was the level of security. Everyone who set foot through the doors knew better than to cause trouble or push the boundaries of any member of staff.

You’d made the switch from bartender to host slowly, filling in whenever someone was out sick or when you needed a little extra money. You were slow to warm to it but, to your surprise, you found that you actually enjoyed it. Though you stayed firmly in the no touching or being touched camp, the tips you made in one night were still more than you made over a whole week tending bar.

But, when that money still wasn’t enough to cover your debts, you took a day job.

And that was how you’d ended up spending an evening hunched over a desk at Anvil, trying desperately to match paperwork with the correct file for a boss who’d made it pretty clear that he didn't like you and thought you were too inept for your job.

By the time you were done, you barely had the chance to make it home and shower and, instead of eating a proper meal, you ate a Snickers bar on the subway.

The Red Ribbon had a special entrance for staff that used old prohibition tunnels and a hidden elevator to get you into the building and up to the top floor. 

New York was stunning from fifty floors up and, some nights, you’d find yourself in the locker room just staring out at the skyline as you changed into your uniform. But tonight you didn’t have the luxury of time.

You stood in front of the schedule, checking which room you were in and which mask you’d be wearing. While bar staff and servers all wore the same elegant black and red masks  to obscure their faces, hosts wore individual masks that corresponded with the room they’d be working. Tonight you were in the rabbit room, so you plucked the ornate rabbit mask from its hook on the wall.

Of all the masks, the rabbit had always been your favourite because of the detailing on the ears and the way it just sat right on your face.

You always got such a rush from pulling a mask on and heading out into the club. Under any other circumstance the thought of walking around in a revealing black bodysuit would have been embarrassing, but once you had your mask on, you felt almost powerful, like a superhero with a secret identity. With the mask, you weren’t you, you were whatever part you were playing and tonight you were Bunny, and Bunny could be whoever you wanted her to be.

The last part of your uniform was the red ribbon that you tied around your neck, the very thing that distinguished staff from customers, and gave the club its name.

You gave yourself one last look in the floor to ceiling mirror, making sure that you looked ready to handle whatever the night had to throw at you, before finally stepping out into the main area of the club.

Once you passed the threshold, everything about you changed; you held your head high and walked through the club like you owned the place. Here you weren’t the quiet little PA who had to keep her mouth shut in case her boss decided to fire her. Here you called the shots.

The spring in your step became even more noticeable as you climbed the stairs and headed onto the walkway that led to the private rooms, each situated above the dancefloor with views of the whole club. 

“Hey, lil Bunny,” an all too familiar face said.

You grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Rocky, one of the club's security guards, a man, who in any other circumstances would terrify you.  He was a huge behemoth of a man, truly deserving of the title Built Like a Brick Shit-House. To the patrons, he was the one they didn’t want to get on the bad side of, but to you and the rest of the staff, he was safety incarnate.

“Hey, Rocky,” you said, bumping fists with him as you came to a stop in front of him.

He’d taken something of a shine to you on your first night at The Red Ribbon - he later told you it was because you reminded him of his sister who’d died only a few years before. Since then he’d always kept a close eye on you.

After bumping fists, you kept your arm outstretched so he could fit your security bracelet for the night; a very ornate looking panic button that you could use discreetly if you needed Rocky to deal with a problem customer. 

“You let me know if you need anything,” he said softly but seriously.

And, with that, you were on your way again, slipping into the rabbit room with a few minutes to spare before your guest arrived. You did a quick sweep of the room, making sure everything was tidy before turning on the music and checking the bar and, finally, you lowered the lights.

Less than five minutes later, a group of men were shown into the room, each wearing plain black masks that covered the top half of their faces, and each dressed to the club's high standards. Though, just from looking at them you could tell that some were more comfortable in suits than others.

“Welcome to The Red Ribbon, I’m Bunny and I’ll be your host for the evening and I’ll be running the bar for you, so make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you your first round,” you announced and, with a flourish of your hand, you waved them towards the sofas.

You took drink orders and made a point of saying a little personal hello to each of them, knowing that it’d help win you tips by the end of the night.

As far as groups went, they seemed decent enough, not exactly what you’d call reserved by any stretch, but they seemed to be happy to talk amongst themselves while you tended bar, not expecting anything more of you.

After about half an hour, one of them broke away from the group and headed towards the bar. You couldn’t help but watch him, taking in the perfect way that his suit fit his tall, slender frame. 

He took a seat on one of the stools at the bar and flashed you the sort of smile that you were sure had panties dropping all across the five boroughs on a regular basis.

“What can I get you?” You asked.

“Another scotch would be great.”

“Sure thing.”

You were acutely aware of the way his eyes followed your every movement as you  grabbed a bottle and fresh glass with ice. Your skin felt like it was tingling under his gaze - he wasn’t leering, it felt more like he was appreciating. 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” he said.

For a second you wondered if it was a line - it certainly sounded like a line - but there was something in the way he was looking at you, something that made you think he was actually being serious.

“What makes you say that?” You asked in your playful voice, deciding to indulge him.

“I’d remember seeing you.”

He wasn’t shy about drinking in the sight of you. At any other time you might have felt disgusted, but it was part of the job and you probably would have been more offended if he  wasn’t checking you out.

“Hmm, and what exactly is it you think you’d remember?” You retorted playfully.

He grinned at that, a laugh rumbling in his chest. And his eyes - fuck, his dark eyes almost seemed to twinkle.

“I’m not sure it’d be considered polite if I was to get... anatomical,” he joked.

“It’s my ass, isn’t it?” You offered offhandedly, breaking any tension or sense of shame.

His grin grew wider, though there was a hint of surprise on his face too, like he hadn’t quite expected you to be so forward.

“Now that you mention it, you do have a very nice ass,” he agreed, “in fact that whole thigh-ass area is perfection.”

You could feel warmth spreading across your cheeks and down your neck, and you were glad of the low lights and the mask on your face. While you were used to comments on your body and what men wanted to do with you while working, there was something different about this. This felt like flirting. Honest to god flirting. And it had been a long time since anyone had tried to flirt with you.

Out in the real world, his comment would have turned you into a shy mess, but behind the bunny mask... well, let’s just say that Bunny wanted to play.

“Oh, a thigh man as well?” 

“I’m a man of refined tastes,” he shrugged.

His grin had you wishing you could see the rest of his face. You were already trying to picture what he might look like behind the mask but you were certain that your imagination was not doing it justice.

“And what else does that taste extend to?” You asked, leaning across the bar a little more as you slid his drink towards him.

His fingers briefly covered yours - rougher than you’d expected - before you slowly pulled your hand away. For a split second, you felt your breath catch, and there was a flicker of something on his face that made you think he’d felt it too, that moment of electricity when you’d touched.

“Are we still talking anatomically? Because I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking about your tits for the last five minutes.”

Again, it wasn’t the sort of comment you’d put up with in any other situation but, then and there, in a place where you held all the power, you liked hearing it. The fact that he’d been allowed into The Red Ribbon meant that he was someone, that he was rich and powerful, so for poor, boring you to be the object of his desires gave a thrill like no other.

You let slip another laugh, propping yourself against the bar with a hand beneath your chin, eyes fixed on Mr Tall, Dark and Playful.

“Only the last five minutes?” You said, almost sounding distraught.

“Oh, you’re trouble, Bunny,” he remarked, leaning towards you as he lifted his drink and took a slow sip.

“I get the feeling that you like trouble.”

“You have no idea...”

It would have been a lie to say that the temptation to carry on the flirtatious conversation wasn’t increasing with every passing second; it was fun, you were actually enjoying it rather than just being subjected to it. But he wasn’t the only person in the room who wanted your attention and you had a job to do. 

“Looks like your friends want some attention too,” you said, nodding your head towards the group of men still sitting at the table. One of them was waving you over, obviously in desperate need of another drink.

“Animals, the lot of them,” he said, almost fondly. “I should have known they had selfish reasons for bringing me here on my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday?” You asked and received a nod in response, before shaking your head and muttering; “another Sagittarius...”

“Another?” 

You looked at him, almost embarrassed that you’d let it slip out and that you’d blurred the line between your real life and Bunny.

“Just a guy I know,” you shrugged.

“He break your heart or something? Need me and the guys to pay him a visit?” He offered playfully.

Another laugh escaped you and you couldn’t help but think about how strange it felt to be able to genuinely laugh with one of the customers. After months of perfecting your customer service laugh, you’d never expected to find yourself actually laughing at some off-handed comment. Especially when the comment was about a stranger going to beat the shit out of your boss for being mean to you.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle myself.”

“I’ll bet you can, Bunny.”

“Well,” you said, definitively, changing the subject and taking your thoughts away from your terrible day-boss, “happy birthday. I think you deserve something fancy to drink.”

He grinned as you turned away to fish a bottle of champagne from the wine fridge and grab enough glasses for him and his friends.

“This place is really somethin’ else,” a second voice said. “I know you said the girls were pretty but... holy shit.”

Tall, Dark and Playful gave a laugh.

“Prettiest girls in New York are all right here,” he said, clapping his friend on the back.

“Careful boys, my ears are burning,” you joked as you turned back to them.

“It's a beautiful woman's fate to be the subject of conversation wherever she goes,” he said.

“Didn't expect to hear anyone quoting Dorian Gray tonight,” you answered back, amused.

He looked almost surprised by the comment, his jaw dropped slightly and his eyes grew a little wider.

“You’ve read Dorian Gray?” He asked. “You like to read?”

“Does that surprise you?” You asked, your mask hiding the way your eyebrow rose. “Do you not think girls like me can read the classics?”

“No, it’s not that, it’s -” he glanced at his friend beside him, then to the group sitting at the table. You couldn’t hear what they were saying but from some of the hand gestures being made, you could guess that it was something filthy, “- it’s just that I'm not used to being around people who can actually read.”

He got a rough punch in the arm from the guy beside him for that, and you started to laugh again. 

They continued to talk while you popped the champagne and started to fill glasses for the whole party. You placed one in front of the birthday boy, and one in front of his friend, before loading up a tray and taking the rest to the party at the table.

“Champagne to toast the birthday boy,” you said with a cheeky smile, earning a round of cheers from the men.

When you returned to the bar, Tall and Dark’s friend passed you, heading back to the group, leaving the birthday boy all alone.

“Not gonna drink with your friends?” You asked.

It was hard not to feel curious - it was part of the job, the masks, the hidden identities, there were always so many unanswered questions.

“I’ve never been one for birthdays,” he answered with a shrug, but still shot you a smile before lifting his champagne flute to his lips.

“Hmm so the mysterious, handsome stranger has a tragic backstory,” you said playfully.

“I don’t know if I’d call it tragic,” he said, his shoulder ticking upwards uncomfortably.

“Should I ask?”

Probably not, you thought. But some part of you wanted to know, wanted to prod and poke until you had him all figured out.

“My mother abandoned me a few hours after I was born,” he stated flatly.

Oh.

Shit.

You didn’t expect him to laugh when he looked at you again, his head shaking. “Don’t look so shocked, it was a long time ago and I’ve come a long way since then.”

“I just -” the confidence of Bunny slipped for a moment, leaving only you; the clumsy girl with a heart that often felt far too big, “- I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve joked...”

“It’s fine, really. I’ve had plenty of time to get over it. Besides, the way I figure it, she did me a favour. You want soft kids, coddle them and treat them well.”

“Wouldn't know anything about that,” you said with a wry smile. “My parents definitely didn't coddle us.”

“No?”

“Nope.”

“That all I'm getting?” He asked, smiling that playful smile again.

“Getting personal defeats the point of the masks, don't you think?” You retorted, leaning to top up his drink.

“I suppose,” he answered, pausing for a beat before continuing, “I guess you could tell me anything and I'd have to take your word for it.”

“You don't strike me as the sort of man who's trusting enough to do something like that.”

It was something you could see in his eyes, the way they took you in and watched every little flicker of emotion that crossed your face.

“Then why don't we play a game?” He offered. “We each get to ask a question, and you get to call the other out if you think they’re lying. And if I catch you in a lie, you have to tell me something true.”

Your eyes narrowed a little, trying to get a measure of him. Normally you were reasonably good at reading people - though maybe a lot of that came from working various PA and secretarial positions, needing to be able to anticipate your boss’ shitty moods.

“Okay, you’re on,” you agreed, “but a few ground rules; you’re not allowed to ask about who I am or anything that might identify me.”

“Sounds fair.” He lifted his champagne and took a slow drink but his eyes never left you. “What are you most afraid of?”

That caught you off guard. It was more serious than you’d anticipated.

“You could ask me almost anything, but that’s what you want to know?” 

“You can tell a lot about a person by what they’re scared of,” he said, shrugging.

You took a second to consider your answer.

“Jellyfish.”

“Really, Bunny, you’re gonna lie right outta the gate?” 

“Okay, fine,” you said with a huff, hating that he’d caught you out already. “I guess I’m most scared of dying alone, but jellyfish are a close second.”

“You think you’re gonna die alone?” He asked.

There was something in his voice that seemed to suggest he didn’t get it, or maybe it was that he thought it would never happen. Little did he know that you - the real you - didn’t exactly have the best luck with men.

“That’s two questions. Don’t I get a turn?” You asked, deciding to dodge his question.

Tall and Dark relented and gave a wave of his hand.

“What do you hate most about New York?” 

“Hate?” He repeated.

“Everyone always loves the same things about the city, but most people hate something different,” you explained.

You watched him closely as he considered his answer, looking for anything that might tell you if he was about to lie to you.

“The subway. It stinks of piss and there’s always too many people.”

You had to give him that one for obvious reasons, though he didn’t strike you as the kind of guy who used the subway all that often.

“When was the last time you used the subway?”

“That’s two questions, Bunny,” he chided playfully.

“Fine. Your turn.”

“What did you want to be when you were a kid?”

“What? You think that this wasn’t my career goal?” You said, barely holding back a laugh as you shook your head. “I don’t know, I went through a lot of phases; I wanted to be a vet until I lost my first hamster, wanted to be a doctor until my brother broke his arm, and I wanted to be a lawyer but I have a conscience...”

The birthday boy laughed with you, smiling at you, obviously happy enough with your answer because he didn’t call you out, making it your turn again.

“What’s your favourite place in New York?” You asked.

“Right here,” he said. “Right now. With you.”

“Yikes, what a line,” you said, smirking at him despite the heat in your cheeks. “Do lines like that usually work for you?”

“Normally I don’t need lines.”

“No?”

“People - women - usually make their minds up about me pretty quickly, and it’s rarely because of anything I have to say,” he explained.

You watched as he lifted his glass and drained his drink. Without needing to be asked, you refilled his glass. There was a pang of sadness in you, for him, for what he obviously had to go through.

“You must be pretty rich then,” you said, managing to keep the playful tone.

“Oh filthy rich,” he confirmed.

“Emphasis on the filthy part.”

He smirked at that.

The longer the conversation went on, the stranger it felt; it didn’t feel like work anymore, and you almost wished that it wasn’t. But moments like this didn’t happen to you out in the real world. He probably wouldn’t even look at you twice if he saw you in the light of day.

“Anyway, I call bullshit. There must be somewhere you like better than here, even if you are enjoying my company,” you said.

“Alright,” he conceded with an almost rueful smile, “there’s a baseball field in Brooklyn. I used to go there when I was a kid to watch other kids play...”

There was more to it, even you could tell that much, but it seemed personal - far more personal than you were prepared to get with him.

“You like baseball?”

“Liked,” he said, correcting you and adding another layer of uncertainty. “And that’s two questions.”

“Sorry, I’m not used to playing games when I’m tending bar,” you said, topping up his glass again before glancing towards his friends. “And, on that note...”

Again, you felt his eyes on you as you moved around the bar and headed to his friends, checking that everyone was having a good time and taking orders for fresh drinks.

“Think you’ve made the birthday boy’s night,” one of them said.

“Yeah, normally he slips out of his birthday parties after the first hour,” another commented, and they all laughed.

And, as you made your way back towards the bar (towards him), you couldn’t help but wonder what his birthdays were usually like.

“Hope they weren’t giving you any trouble,” he said as you slipped behind the bar and put the empty glasses you’d gathered to the side so you could start getting fresh drinks.

“No, you’ve all been perfect gentlemen,” you said, smiling at him, your face obviously showing some degree of relief because he quickly commented on it.

“Are there times when guys aren’t gentlemen?” He asked.

There was something in his tone, a hint of - what? - protectiveness, or anger maybe. 

“Sometimes, but that’s what Rocky is for,” you said, nodding your head towards the door.

“The big guy?” He asked and you nodded. “Yeah, I wouldn’t fancy my chances with him.”

Filling a tray with the fresh drinks, you went back to the table and passed them around before heading back to him again, taking up the spot on the opposite side of the bar from him, leaning your elbow on the bartop.

“So,” you said, almost decidedly, “want to tell me why you’re spending your birthday night out talking to me and not with your friends?”

He seemed to hesitate, but only for a split second.

“I thought it was my turn.”

“It is,” you conceded, “if you want to keep playing, but I think you might enjoy your birthday more if you spent it with friends.”

“We could be friends.”

“Friends don’t check out each other's asses, handsome.”

“Oh, so you’ve been checking out my ass?” He said as a grin tugged at his lips.

“What can I say?” You shrugged. “Something about men in well tailored pants drives me wild.”

The birthday boy let out another laugh, and it was such a happy sound that he drew glances from his friends, all of them wondering just what it was you’d said to manage to get a response like that from him.

He grabbed his glass and got to his feet.

“This isn’t over, Bunny,” he said before heading towards his friends.

Over the rest of the night, you found yourself watching him, always coming up with a teasing or playful remark whenever you went across to get them fresh drinks (oh, you wanted a drink, I just thought you wanted to stare at my ass again and I know how much you enjoy watching me walk away).

And he watched you, too.

Your skin prickled with goosebumps under his attention and you quickly came to love the sensation. Never in all your time working at The Red Ribbon had you felt such a connection with a guest, and you probably never would again.

So, when they all finally stood to leave, you felt a pang of regret - you shouldn’t have sent him back to his friends, you should have kept him with you so you could talk more.

Each of the guys said their thanks, each dropping bills into the tip jar by the door on their way out.

One of them stopped and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Thanks. I dunno what you said to him but I ain’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Your heart stuttered, not sure what it was you could have done to inspire such a change in a man you didn’t even know.

You noticed him linger as the door swung shut behind the last of his friends and, at any other time, that would be cause for concern but something told you that you weren’t in danger. Not from him. 

“Something else I can help you with?” You asked, as playful as ever.

“Plenty,” he said, his smile dropping a little. “But everything I want would break the rules, and the last thing I want is to get banned when there’s a chance I might see you again.”

It was sweet how oddly accepting he was of how things were, how they had to be. It made it harder to watch him walk away knowing that you might not see him again. You’d never felt such an instant connection with a stranger before, especially not a stranger who’d seen this side of you, a stranger who knew what you did for a living and didn’t judge you for it.

Against your better judgement, you leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth, before pulling back slightly. You lingered close, watching the way the corner of his lip ticked upwards and heard the slightest catch of his breath.

“Well, here’s hoping you can tell who I am the next time you see me,” you offered in little more than a whisper.

Slowly, cautiously, his hand lifted to your face and you felt your heart skip a beat. It was the barest of touches, so light that he might not have even touched you at all, but you felt a warmth spread across your skin nonetheless.

“I’ll know, Bunny,” he said with a certainty that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m gonna find you again.”

“Promises, promises,” you joked, wanting to keep the mood light, knowing that the odds of seeing him again were small. And, with that thought, you found yourself leaning forward again, this time pressing your lips to his for the briefest of seconds. “Something to remember me by.”

Then you stepped back, creating space between your body and his, a silent signifier that the night was over.

“I will find you,” he said again. “I always get what I want, Bunny, one way or another.”

“Happy birthday, handsome,” you said, avoiding answering his comment.

He gave you one last look, drinking in the sight of you from head to toe, and you felt your whole body warm in response. Then he left, leaving you alone with your racing heart and the promise that you’d see him again. 

It should have worried you; the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d been looking, and the fact that he wanted to find you again. But it didn’t. Instead of worry, all you felt was want, even if you knew that the man behind the mask might be someone completely different. Even if you knew the man behind the mask probably wouldn’t be interested in who you were when you weren’t playing Bunny.

Later that night as you laid in bed, your vibrator between your thighs and his dark eyes in your mind, you wondered what he was doing. Your eyes closed tight, picturing him standing over you, watching as you fucked yourself. He’d smile that playful smile down at you and slowly grip his cock - and, fuck, his cock was probably as perfect as the rest of him.

You longed to know what he looked like beneath the mask and beneath the expensive clothes.

You wanted to know what it felt like to be touched by him, for him to kiss you and hold you. For him to fuck you.

No matter what you imagined as you slid the vibrator in and out your body, your thoughts continued to return to one thing; his eyes. You wanted to get lost in them, wanted to make him laugh and see them sparkle. You wanted to see them darken with need as he fucked you and took what he wanted from you.

I always get what I want, he’d told you. And he wanted you.

A loud moan tore from your lips as you came, your whole body shivering with pleasure at the thought of this strange and alluring man getting what he wanted from you.

Then, with a heavy sigh, you sank back on your bed and curled up, the usual feelings of insecurity quickly filling you again.

He’d probably forget all about you; everything he’d said had probably just been to try and get something more than you’d been prepared to give. He’d probably already forgotten you...

Little did you know that, across town, Billy Russo was fisting his cock to thoughts of you without knowing it was you he was thinking of, his hand stroking up and down his length as he stood in the shower. He jerked off to thoughts of your body, your laugh, your smile. He pictured all the ways that he wanted you, his Bunny, all the things he wanted to do.

Your plump and pretty lips would look good wrapped around his cock, and your plush thighs would no doubt feel amazing wrapped around his head as he feasted on your cunt. 

He licked his lips for what must have been the hundredth time since you kissed him and was, yet again, disappointed that there was no lingering taste of you.

As he came, he knew that he had to have you. He would find you again, and he would make you his if it was the last thing he did.

A/N : I feel weird when I don't post on a Friday, so here's a new thing 😅 like I said at the start, this will just be a short, sweet thing (3 parts and done), but hopefully it'll be a lot of fun and a little bit more playful/light-hearted compared to Love, Sick Love. (And I promise no cliffhanger ending to this one 😅) If you've played TellTale's The Wolf Among Us, that's where I got the ribbon idea from (well that and that old ghost story... but no ones head is going to fall off in this, I promise).

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. I'm not going to full commit to posting every Friday for this because I work in retail and, as you can imagine, it's hectic at the moment, but I want to try and post at least once a week since this is only going to be a short story.

Anyway, thanks for reading!

Also I can't remember if anyone else asked to be tagged in all future Billy stories, if I've missed you please shout at me.

Tag List : @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx

[back2bluesidex]

Six Degrees of Separation - MYG [Preview]

✨ Patreon Membership Exclusive Series ✨

Pairing: Best Friend!Yoongi X Female Reader X Doctor!Seokjin

Theme: Angst, Unrequited love au, pining, more angst, eventual cheating and smut and fluff.

Word count: Each part will contain 1k to 2k words.

Summary: Break up hurts, but being rejected by the man you have loved for five solid years and losing him and his friendship in one damn night - only for him to show up a year later holding your cousin's hand all ready to tie the knot hurts more.

Break up hurts, but going through all six degrees of separation from the Man who was never yours - hurts a lot more.

Warnings: heartbreak, rejection.

Update Schedule: Every Tuesday 4:30 am UTC.

Read the full chapter

Chapter index:

Prologue

Degree 1: Shock

Degree 2: Denial and Desperation

Degree 3: Anger

Degree 4: Depression

Intermission - Meeting Seokjin

Intermission 02: Min Yoongi

Degree 5: Acceptance

Intermission 03: Hyeri

Degree 6: Moving on

Misconception

Pay The Price

Now you can also purchase the series without having to sign up for an active membership. 😋

Here is the purchase link.

“So, do you have anyone under your radar? Anyone you like?” Yoongi is funnily interested now. It’s probably the most interested he has been in your love-life. 

Again, the reasons stay unaware.  

“Yes. Yes, I do.” You manage to utter, heart already acting wild inside your ribcage. 

“Really? Who is it? Do I know him?” Your best friend perks up. 

Curiosity makes him look so young. You see the young, twenty one years old Yoongi whom you met through Jimin. You see the Yoongi with mint hair too focused on the bottle of your nail polish reading the chemicals that it contains, you see the twenty three year old boy who waited for you at the hospital lobby when you banged your head against the corner of your bed, you see the twenty four year old man who cried like a baby in your embrace when his grandfather passed away - right then you realized you never wanted to see him cry again. Right then you realized Yoongi’s happiness means more to you than your own. 

You see the twenty five year old Yoongi, the Yoongi who made you realize what jealousy is, the Yoongi who made you realize - you had fallen in love with him. 

“It’s you. I am in love with you.” it’s not you, it’s the memories you share with him that makes you speak, that makes you confess. You never meant to say these words without any preparation, you never meant to say these words until you reach your breaking point - maybe you have reached it after five years?

Your chain of thought has clouded your head so much that your mouth ran in its own accord.

And you regret it. 

You regret letting out the truth you have successfully hidden for the past five years because the look you see in Yoongi’s face can’t be compared to anything you have seen before. 

It’s a mixture of disgust, disappointment and hurt.

“W-what? Y/N you can’t-” 

“Why can’t I, Yoongi? Is it forbidden for me to love you?” You chuckle dryly. 

Yoongi closes his eyes, runs a hand through his hair and sighs deeply. “If this is a prank, Y/N, I-” 

“It’s not a prank, Yoongi! I love you! I really do. I have been in love with you for the last five years but you are just too blind to see!”     

Yoongi turns his back towards you, as if looking at your face will pollute his vision now, “I wasn’t blind. I was just-  was just praying to be wrong, Y/N! Damn it! This is not right. You and I, we are friends! This is not-” 

While you have been praying for Yoongi to feel the same, Yoongi has been praying for the complete opposite. As his words sink in your blood, your vision starts blurring. 

“Yoongi, can’t you try?” You plead. Never in your life have you ever considered pleading with anyone for love - but when it comes to Min Yoongi, your resolves don’t last long. 

“No! No, Y/N! I can’t. You are my friend. My best friend. I can’t see you as anything else!” He finally looks at you, looks into you and rows his words deep in your soul. 

Yoongi takes a step back from your figure, then another, then another, “and just so you know… I have someone.” 

With that he walks away in the opposite direction, leaving you behind. 

The first stage of separation is Shock. 

They say shock happens on both physical and psychological level, that it leaves you feeling out of your own body.

As you stare at his retreating figure with tears making a mess on your face, you realize, you just reached the first degree of separation from Min Yoongi - a man who was never yours to begin with.

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 18

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Amren Bashing, Low Self Esteem and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

The first time Azriel heard Eira play the harp...was Winter Solstice Eve. She had moved the instruments into one corner of the Living Room and was contently plucking the strings, Nyx on her lap.

Azriel watched from where he stood in the doorway as his mate strummed the harp, the sweet, lovely sounds filling the room. She gently bounced Nyx to the sound of the harp's music, Nyx's head bobbing with each movement.

Nyx was having the time of his life if his bright grin was anything to go by.

Azriel smiled gently as he watched the scene. Eira looked so...so happy, content, sitting there and playing her harp with Nyx on her lap. They were both grinning like fools, and Azriel's smile widened when Eira's gaze flicked up and landed on him.

"Happy Solstice Eve," his mate said softly, continuing the song, the last few notes ringing out in the room. It was decorated with pine garlands and dark ribbons, with little twinkling fae lights in the decorations.

He chuckled at her soft murmur, striding over to them, his gaze flickering across the living room as he moved, taking note of the way Eira had decorated the room. He knew it had been her because he had spent an evening a few days ago helping her string up the pine garlands and tying the bows she had made onto them. 

"And a very Happy Solstice Eve to you as well, my love," he replied, resting a hand on her shoulder to give it a light squeeze as he leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. "And you, Nyxie-" he added, grinning at his nephew.

Nyx giggled gleefully at him, reaching out for him with a babble that vaguely seemed to be an attempt at a greeting.

Azriel gently plucked him from Eira's grasp and tossed him into the air in a move that was a little more reckless than usual, catching the babe again a moment later and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I am surprised you aren't in the kitchen baking," he told Eira, who smiled as she watched him and Nyx play.

"Feyre told me to relax," she answered with a sigh. "I am not allowed to enter the kitchen on threat of no presents."

"Well, I suppose we'll have no cake this year..." he muttered with mock disappointment, bouncing Nyx a little in his arms and eliciting a giggle from his nephew.

Eira just snorted. "Have some trust in me, love. I made cookies days ago."

"Oh, did you?" he inquired, bouncing Nyx in one arm. "And where in the house did you hide these baked goods, Sweetheart?"

"Far from Cassian, hopefully," she muttered under her breath. "I have the shadows protecting them."

Azriel chuckled, the sound low and soft. "A wise choice," he agreed. "Or else Cassian would've devoured them all in five minutes."

Nyx giggled then, seemingly finding the conversation funny, and Azriel bounced him in his arms again, pressing another kiss to the baby's cheek.

"Yes, yes, Nyxie, this is all very amusing," he said with a grin, resting the baby on his hip as he glanced down at his mate, still sat by the harp. "Can you play another song, Eira?"

Eira smiled at him, a bright blush sweeping across her cheeks. "Of course," she answered, picking up the harp again, her fingers shifting to a different position on the strings.

Her fingers started to move across the harp's strings, and another sweet, lilting tune filled the room, a smile on his mate's face as she played.

Azriel listened silently, his gaze shifting between Eira - who was still blushing adorably - and Nyx, who was watching her play with wide, fascinated eyes. The baby's head lolled and bobbed to the beat of the music, his eyes tracking his aunt's fingers as they shifted across the harp's strings.

The rest of their family decided to trickle in slowly, even Varian and Amren deciding to show up.

Nyx squirmed in Azriel's arms as people began to fill the room, giggling eagerly and watching the guests with excited little squeaks and babbles.

Eira continued playing softly, nearly absentmindedly, smiling at Nesta as her sister found a seat next to her.

"Only three more days," Nesta murmured and Eira gave her a happy little grin.

"Three more days," she agreed, her excitement apparent in her voice.

Azriel heard her words, and they sent a small jolt of something - anticipation, he realised - through his chest. Three more days...

Nesta caught his eye, raising a brow meaningfully with a smirk on her face that he ignored.

"That does sound better than your screeching," Amren said suddenly and Eira's hands froze. A growl rose up in his throat. He opened his mouth to respond, but Eira was quicker than him. 

"I'd like to see you play the harp, Amren." she sniped, and oh by the stars above, the sharpness and the snark in his normally sweet mate's voice was so different, but in a...good way. It was unexpected, but he liked it more than he expected.

"Touchy," Amren answered, but it seemed more like a remark than a real complaint. She had a strangely...amused expression on her face that even Azriel could not interpret, but the look only lasted for a moment before it disappeared again.  "You gained some claws," Amren complimented.

"Amren," Rhys said in a warning tone.

"What?" Amren asked, turning to him with feigned innocence in her eyes.

Rhys just rolled his eyes, shaking his head and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like unbelievable.

"Are you done now, Amren?" Eira asked, her voice icy. "I am still waiting on an apology for last time."

"Whatever for?" Amren said with a scoff. Azriel felt the growl in his throat grow louder.

"Oh, I don't know," Eira said in a mock-thoughtful tone. "Maybe for the fact that you called me a waste? That you wanted to turn me into a weapon? Maybe for that? Maybe for upsetting me so much that I winnowed straight into Illyria and burned down a forest?!"

"I didn't say it because I disliked you," Amren said with a huff. "You're so damn...soft. Vulnerable, even.  And you have unimaginable power at your fingertips. Not using it is a waste."

A low snarl rose up in Azriel's throat, and he was considering going over there to tear the silver-eyed menace limb from limb.

Eira's hands stilled on her harp, her expression growing cold. Her eyes were like ice, glimmering with suppressed anger as she said, "Then it's a good thing your opinion of me means so little."

A smirk appeared on Amren's face. "You used to fear me," she purred. "You used to run when you saw me coming. But now...now you're a little bit more confident, are you?"

"I have more to fight for, to live for," Eira said coldly.

"Oh, yes." Amren's smirk widened. "I was wondering when you'd..."

That's how far she came. A moment later, lightning crackled in the palm of Eira's hand

"Finish that sentence, Amren." Eira hissed, and the lightning in her hand crackled and glowed, shining like silver in the light of the room.

The look on Amren's face suddenly changed as she stared, almost dumbstruck, at the lightning in Eira's hand. She was, for the first time since Azriel knew her, shocked into silence

Rhys' eyebrows rose as he took in the situation. On one hand, Feyre was giggling into Rhys' shoulder at the sight of Eira holding lightning. On the other...well, Azriel would not stand for anyone disrespecting his mate. Not when they were already pushing her this far.

A glance around the room showed that Feyre and Cassian were thoroughly interested in the scene in front of them. Nesta was watching Eira with something akin to awe, and Mor was leaning against a bookshelf with a slightly amused smile on her face.

Azriel turned his gaze back to his still-fuming mate and the shocked, nearly apprehensive Amren, the baby on his hip still babbling and giggling happily, blissfully oblivious to the scene in front of him.

"My, my, you are feisty today," Amren breathed, her composure back in place with an almost forced casualness.

"And you're far more annoying than usual today," Eira retorted.

The tension in the room was so thick, that Azriel was half-convinced that you could've reached out a hand and physically touched it.

"You have grown bold," Amren said conversationally, seemingly unbothered by the lightning Eira was still holding.

But Azriel could see the flicker of something in her eyes. Something...not quite fear, but similar. She was slightly nervous in the face of Eira's unexpected anger.

"Amren, that's enough," Feyre cut in.

Feyre's voice echoed through the room, stern and commanding. Amren's head whirled around to peer at her as Feyre stared back with a firm gaze of her own.

"No more," she said firmly, her eyes flickering between Amren and Eira.

"I just wanted a peek at her power."

Azriel's eyes darkened. Eira clenched her hand into a fist, the lightning in her hand vanishing as she muttered angrily, "Next time, I won't just give you a peek."

Amren huffed. "Are you threatening me?"

Azriel growled, low and sharp, handing Nyx to Nesta. "She isn't. I am," Azriel snapped. "Either you treat my mate with respect or we will be having a very different sort of conversation."

Amren looked up at him, a flicker of surprise in her silver eyes. It was gone the next moment, but she wisely made the choice to not say anything.

Meanwhile, Eira was still bristling, tension written across her face as she took a deep breath, clearly trying to calm herself.

"I apologise," Amren said stiffly.

Eira's eyebrows rose, startled by Amren's unexpected apology.

A tense silence followed, but it broke a moment later when Azriel said, "That is something you don't hear often, Amren."

Amren shot him a glare, but there was no real malice behind it.

A huff of agreement came from Rhys, and Feyre muttered something that sounded suspiciously like not going to get used to this.

For once, Azriel thought he had to agree with his friend. Amren actually apologising, especially to someone like Eira... He doubted they'd see that sight ever again.

It was something that much was certain.

Cassian suddenly let out a snicker, and they all turned to look at him.

"What?" he asked, grinning in their direction. "That Lightning is badass!"

Feyre chuckled as well, but it quickly turned into laughter as other people chimed in. Even Varian gave an amused chuckle that sounded surprisingly sincere coming from him.

Eira's cheeks turned a little red, as they always did when attention was focused on her.

She glanced up at him, a mixture of embarrassment and something like pleasure at the little caress, and he had to bite back a smile.

His mate, still so shy when confronted with praise or attention.

Azriel kept his gaze on her for a while longer, and his smile widened a little when she let out a shaky sigh.

Her curls were as beautiful as always, and she was dressed in a gown, silver threading winding across the dark velvet of the skirt. On every other female, the dress would've simply been pretty. On Eira, it was breathtaking.

Ours, whispered the shadows, and Azriel had to agree.

She was his in every way- his mate, his partner, his family. He wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

"Can I...May I give you your present already? I think you can use it tomorrow," she asked him softly as the evening came to a close.

Azriel turned his attention back to her, hearing the quiet but excited tone in her voice. She truly was too sweet.

"Of course," he answered with a soft smile. "But what is it?"

Eira just gave him a smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement, and his heart started beating a little faster in anticipation. He'd never seen her this...eager about anything before.

"Something I hope you'll enjoy," she said mysteriously, standing up and grabbing his hand, tugging him to his feet. "But you have to come with me."

She led him up to her room, which was halfway packed up, most of her things already up at the House that she had christened Bluebell Cottage.

Azriel glanced around the room, a flicker of sadness going through him at the sight of the already half-emptied room.

But he had to admit, there was a strange sense of... anticipation in his chest. 

The package was soft and wrapped in red wrapping paper. Azriel took the package from her, his eyebrows rising as he felt how soft it was.

"What's in it?" he asked with a hint of curiosity and excitement.

"Unwrap it," she answered.

He let out a little hum, carefully working to open the wrapping without tearing it too much. He could feel Eira's excitement rising as he slowly worked his way through the wrapping, and his curiosity grew as well.

He could hear a few amused chuckles from the shadows, as some of them seemed to know what was in the wrapping.

A moment later, there was a pair of buttery soft, black leather gloves in his hands. He could only stare at them for a moment.

"Your hands start to hurt you more when it gets cold outside," Eira explained quietly. "I lined them with the offcuts from the second pelt you gave me. And I had them enchanted so that they were water resistant."

Azriel stared, shocked and silent, as he held the gloves in his hands. He could tell without even putting them on that they would be perfect- not just for the cold, but also fit snugly around his scarred fingers like they'd been made for him.

He could feel Eira's nerves increasing as he stared at her in shocked disbelief, almost like she was worried about his reaction.

It was an absolutely... perfect gift, and he knew that he could never ever repay her for this. That, for once, he didn't know what to say.

He had never had someone... think about him like this, someone who'd even care about something like the scars on his hands.

"Was that alright?" she asked worriedly.

"You made them for me," he said weakly, not a question.

Eira's eyes widened a little, and he realised that she thought that he was upset.

"Of course it's alright," he said quickly, staring down at the gloves in his hands.

His mate, his perfect kind and sweet and caring mate... He couldn't comprehend how lucky he was to have found her.

But Eira didn't look entirely sure, her anxious expression still on her face as she asked, "Do... do you like them?"

He tore his gaze away from the gloves and looked up at her.

"Like them?" he repeated, his voice soft and slightly awed. "Eira, they're perfect."

The anxiety on Eira's face vanished at his words, replaced with an adorable mixture of relief and excitement.

"You do?" she said, her voice eager and her eyes sparkling as she watched him hold the gloves in his hands.

Azriel just nodded, gently setting the gloves down on her still-untouched bed. He had to fight back the urge to take her into his arms right there and then.

"What did you make out of the rest?" he asked her. She looked at him with wide eyes. “You made the shrug for yourself. You made me the gloves. What else did you make?”

Eira gave him a slow smile.

"You'll see," she said quietly. "Hopefully soon. And now I expect you to win that Snowball Fight tomorrow.“

Azriel raised an eyebrow, both at the change of topic and at the implication of winning that Snowball Fight.

"And what will I get if I win?" he asked, a smirk slowly spreading across his face.

Eira took on a thoughtful expression as if she was actually thinking about his question.

"I don't know," she said slowly, looking like she was considering the idea. "What do you want from me if you win?"

Azriel shrugged casually, trying to ignore the eager, almost greedy shadows.

“A Kiss.”

***

Her sister's birthday dawned bright early, mostly because Eira was already in the kitchen by dawn. It did mean that she got to kiss Azriel goodbye though, before he, Rhys and Cassian disappeared to their annual Snowball Fight...and she got to finish the finishing touches on Feyre's birthday cake.

It was a beautiful morning, one of those days that just seemed perfect, and Eira hummed to herself cheerfully as she finished decorating Feyre's birthday cake.

Despite the fact that her sister was a literal High Lady, she had insisted that her birthday be a quiet affair, no huge celebration or party, just the inner circle and the family.

"Do you...need help?" Nesta's voice came from the doorway.

Eira paused in her decorating, glancing up to find Nesta standing in the doorway.

"I wouldn't say no to the help," she answered with a smile, waving her sister over.

Nesta came over to the counter, silently watching as Eira finished the last touches on the cake.

"It looks good," Nesta said admiringly, studying the cake's smooth dark chocolate surface and the bright silver icing.

"I did stars this year," she said brightly.

"So I see," Nesta said, studying the various silver stars that had been carefully piped onto the cake's surface.

"I think I might've made it a bit too plain, though," Eira said as she looked it over. "I should've added a few more,."

"It looks good as it is," Nesta said, her expression slightly bewildered at the sight of her younger sister worrying over cake decorations. "Feyre will love it, believe me."

"Right," Eira said, taking a step back and studying the cake with a critical eye. "Yes, I think this works."

Nesta looked slightly amused at the way she was looking at the cake, almost studying it, and shook her head, muttering faintly, "You're worse than Feyre with her painting, I swear."

"You did manage to make yourself very clear to Amren though," Nesta said calmly. "I am proud of you."

"I wasn't trying to," she mumbled, heat rising in her cheeks as Nesta chuckled softly. "I was just, y'know, frustrated. I guess I spoke more than I should've."

"You don't have to apologize for putting her in her place," Nesta said, looking amused at the memory of Eira's outburst the previous day. "It was a long time coming, honestly."

"I just-" Eira paused, fiddling with the end of her sleeves.

"It just really made me angry, that she was saying all those things," she mumbled. "I never did anything to her."

"That's because you've always been nice ," Nesta said with a sigh, her gaze and voice surprisingly fond. "In a way that a lot of people tend to overlook. But Amren was pushing it yesterday, and I'm just glad you finally snapped at her."

"It was about time, in my opinion," Feyre chimed in from the doorway, where she was cradling Nyx against her chest. "Amren's been treating you like a doormat for long enough."

"You aren't supposed to be in here!" Eira complained. "Happy Birthday!"

Feyre just smiled, not bothering to look apologetic at all as she said, "Thank you. This looks great."

Nesta just laughed as well, and Eira huffed, but there was no real displeasure in her expression.

"Go away," she said firmly to her sister, shooing both Feyre and Nesta out of the kitchen. "No birthday girl of mine is going to see her cake before they're supposed to."

Feyre let out a mock-offended gasp, but obeyed anyways, ducking out of the kitchen with Nyx still in her arms.

"Spoilsport," she called out over her shoulder, grinning.

Eira just rolled her eyes, even when she was already pulling out all the makings for breakfast.

They spent most of the day playing with Nyx, before Azriel, Rhys and Cassian arrived back, Azriel with his 200th victory in tow.

The three males arrived back not long after lunch time, their clothes rumpled and hair messy from the snowball fight.

Cassian and Rhys headed for the chairs, while Azriel made a beeline for her, looking slightly predatory in a way that made her heart beat faster.

She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks under his gaze, his gaze looking like he was ready to drag her off to a privatepart of the house.

She suppressed the urge to shiver, instead asking with forced innocence, "Did you boys have fun?"

"We certainly did," Azriel answered, his voice a low rumble as he closed the distance between them and gripped the waist, pulling her into his arms.

She let out a soft gasp as she landed against his chest, one of his hands resting on her hip.

"We had a wonderful game," Rhys chimed in from one of the couches, earning an annoyed muttering from Cassian.

"Wonderfully brutal, you mean," Cassian said dryly. "I swear, we were closer to frostbite than we were to a friendly match."

"Sounds like someone is just being a sore loser," Rhys said calmly, earning a scoff from Cassian.

"I am not!" he protested, looking more like a child whose favourite toy has been taken away than a centuries-old warrior.

"Want to help me in the kitchen?" she said quickly.

Azriel shot a warning glare at both Rhys and Cassian, before tightening his grip on her waist and nodding.

"Of course," he said, his voice so low that it rumbled in his chest.

They did manage it into the kitchen. And then his hands were suddenly all over her.

Azriel backed her up against the wall as soon as the door shut behind them, trapping her against the wall with his body.

The shadows swirled around them in an almost excited way, filling the room and blocking out the sounds of the voices in the other room.

"You owe me a kiss," he said, his voice a low rumble against the skin of her neck as he leaned down to press kisses against her neck. She shivered at the feeling of his lips on her skin, the heat of his body pressed up against hers. "I won."

"I guess I do," she answered breathlessly, wrapping her arms around his neck and gently running her fingers through the short, soft hair at the base of his head.

His mouth moved against her neck, his lips teasing and tempting, and she had to stifle a soft moan as his hands gripped her hips.

The shadows were almost dancing around them, swirling like they were as eager as she was. His hands were gripping her hips with a possession that made her feel almost faint with want, and the heat in her lower belly was spreading like wildfire throughout her body.

It was like a flame, igniting every inch of her body as his mouth moved up to press against her jaw, his lips brushing against her skin. She was shaking with the effort of holding back her moans, with the effort of holding herself together.

It was harder than she'd expected, with him so close, his presence almost overwhelming and his touch devastatingly good.

His mouth moved across her cheek, his breathing a low growl as he said, "I love it when you get flushed like this."

She shivered heavily, her hands gripping the collar of his shirt as he pressed his hips against hers in a way that made her pant helplessly.

And then he kissed her lips. Fitted his mouth over hers, his tongue plundering her mouth with no forewarning.

And she responded instantly, opening her mouth and letting his tongue into her mouth. Her mind was going hazy, her thoughts disappearing in an instant as she clutched at his shirt and pressed her body closer to his.

His hands were gripping at her hips like iron, forcing her body to stay still and taking as he claimed her mouth with a possessive ferocity.

She was completely at his mercy, shaking against him as he completely overwhelmed her with the force of his kiss.

His tongue was everywhere in her mouth, sweeping in and claiming her mouth as his own. She let out a desperate moan, the noise swallowed up by his mouth as his body pressed her up against the wall.

She was almost mindless with desire, her every thought and sense focused only on the feel of him against her, on the way his hands were gripping her hips and the hot, heavy feel of his body against hers.

And then he pulled back, panting. Resting his forehead against hers.

She was as flushed as he was, her lips slick and swollen from his kiss as she struggled to get her breathing under control.

His forehead was pressed against hers, the two of them just standing there, trying to catch their breath, as the shadows danced around them.

"Three days," he whispered.

"Three days," she echoed.

She rested her head back against the wall, her eyes fluttering shut as she let out a weary sigh.

Her heart was still racing, the heat in her lower abdomen aching like a throb, but they couldn't simply disappear to a private room when they were surrounded by the entire inner circle.

And she was not going to have her first time with Azriel somewhere public.

So instead, she focused on getting her breathing back under control, the heat of his body still overwhelming.

She forced her eyes open, studying his face. He was just as flushed as she was, his breathing heavy, but his eyes...his eyes were still dark and burning fiercely.

"You still owe me a solstice gift," she said with a weak grin.

Azriel managed a strained chuckle, lifting one hand up to cup her face and brush his thumb over her lip like he couldn't resist touching her.

"Indeed I do," he said, his voice still low and husky. "Let's see if we are already at the gift giving portion of the evening.

They heard the sound of laughter drifting in from the sitting room, and Azriel let out a rueful sigh, leaning his forehead against herss again.

"We should probably go back out to the others," he said quietly, his thumb still rubbing against her lip.

She almost wanted to disagree, to tell him that she wanted to stay right where they were. But reluctantly, she nodded in agreement, letting out a sigh of her own as she pushed herself off the wall.

Azriel's hands slid from her waist and hips, but he took her hand as they made their way back out of the kitchen.

They reappeared in the doorway, and Eira had to force down a flush as all of the others turned to look at them, as if they knew exactly what had been going on in the kitchen.

No one commented though, either because they didn't actually know or because they were being tactful for once, and instead, Rhys simply lifted the bottle of wine and said, "There you are. Come and sit down already."

But Azriel just led Eira over to one of the couches and sank down beside her, one arm wrapping around her shoulder to pull her closer. Not that she was resisting at all.

Eira just let herself lean against Azriel, resting her head on his shoulder and enjoying the solid warmth of his touch.

Gifts were exchanged, for Feyre's birthday and for Winter Solstice.

The wrapping paper piled up as more gifts were handed out, Nyx having more fun with the paper than his actually toys and Eira managed to find herself sitting almost on Azriel's lap with his arm still around her.

Not that she was complaining. If anything, she was simply enjoying the close contact and the heat of his body.

There were little piles of gifts before each of them. Eira was quite proud of the embroidered hair ribbons she had made for Nesta, Valkyrie white silk with little silver flames all over them, while Feyre had gotten an embroidered silk scarf. She had made other things, of course, other than the gloves she had already given to Azriel. A bright red silk dressing gown for Mor, even Cassian had gotten a new leather sheath for his daggers, while she had made a notebook cover for Rhys.

The others seemed to appreciate the gifts for the most part, with Mor giving her an overly dramatic show of affection as thanks. 

Mor herself had oviously decided to go the route of extravagance that year...with Cassian giving an offended noise at the box she handed him, glaring at it and protesting, "I don't need a face cream."

Which only made the rest of the group burst out laughing, even Amren managing a smirk.

"You certainly need something for those scars and freckles, darling," Mor said with a smirk. "I can see your skin deteriorating as we speak."

"It is not deteriorating," Cassian protested. "That's just the rugged look that I was going for."

Eira bit back a laugh at that, still staring at the dagger Cassian had given her, with a wink and the words "Not quite as cool as lightning. But I think Azriel would be happy to teach you."

She was still staring down at the dagger and the scabbard when Azriel gently leaned down to murmur in her ear, "You like it?"

His voice was a low rumble that thrummed through her body, and she almost shivered at the sound.

Eira  didn't hate it. Not as much as she had thought she would. She wasn't quite sure if she wanted to learn to fight. But maybe she didn't need to. maybe she could just learn how to defend herself.

She could feel Azriel watching her closely, and she was sure that he could probably feel the tension in her body.

But she still nodded slightly in response to his question, her eyes fixed on the dagger and scabbard in her hands. And he seemed to get the message, resting his chin on her shoulder and giving her a small squeeze.

The scabbard had been made of fine, supple leather, polished and oiled to shine like satin. But the dagger itself was the real beauty. The slender obsidian blade was polished to a mirror-perfect gleam, and when she pulled the blade out to study it, she noticed the little lightning bolt patterns carved into the blade.

"Here," Azriel said quietly. "That Solstice Gift I owe you."

Eira was only mildly startled as his quiet voice drew her back out of her thoughts, and she blinked at him in surprise.

"You really don't-" she began, but Azriel just shook his head, the shadows swirling with excitement.

"I talked them out of buying you another 3 dozen gifts, but I still wanted to give you something," he told her gently.

Eira couldn't help but feel touched that he'd gone to such trouble, even if she had been firmly telling them not to make such a fuss.

She was still speechless as he pulled a small, silk-wrapped box out of his pocket, handing it to her with an almost nervous smile on his face.

"I thought..well...I...I thought that you could use more pearls," he finally said quietly.

Eira almost gaped at his words as she stared down at the gift in her hands, her heart clenching at the thought that he'd given her pearls.

She carefully unwrapped the gift, her hands shaking slightly as she opened the box and uncovered a King's ransom in Pearls and Diamonds. A Necklace, Bracelet and a set of Hair Combs, all laid tucked into black velvet.

"No Earrings, but everything else," he said quietly.

She was literally speechless as she stared at the jewelry, her heart stuttering in her chest.

It wasn't just the jewelry that stole her breath away, but the thought and care that Azriel had taken in creating it.

He'd given her pearls. Diamonds too, but the pearls just made her throat ache.

Pearls like these very first earrings, like her engagement ring...and now there they were, ready to encircle her throat and her wrist as well.

The pearls were perfect, flawless and shining under the light like they were made of living ice. They looked smooth to the touch and more flawless than anything she'd ever seen before.

"They're beautiful," she told him, her voice a little strangled as she stared down at them. "Azriel...I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he told her as the shadows swooped around her, like they were eager to see the jewelry on her. "Do you like them?"

It was an oddly vulnerable question, and one that made her heart flutter in her chest.

"I love them."

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 1

Surprise!!! I have six chapters of this and really need to start getting it out, so I figured with Act 1 ending last week and my backlog on this and Of Butterflies and Backstrokes (Olympic Swimmer) being so low thanks to me trying to the Halloween themed sequel to Icarus (Metal Band) that I would put this out until I build that back up and lower the amount of backlog this one has.

Summary: Eddie Munson is a in bind, set to go on a three month reunion tour, he is in need of nanny for his twin girls Janice and Joan since his partner, Ethan blew up their lives a year ago. Enter nanny extraordinaire, Steve Harrington. Both men struggle with treading the line between boss/nanny and their strong attraction to each other. Will Eddie learn to trust again? Will Steve realize that he was always meant to be right there by Eddie's side?

~

Eddie hung up the phone with a sigh. He wanted to do the tour, because of course he did. But he also had two very rambunctious little girls now. Eddie was a good dad, but he wasn’t the nurturing kind the way Ethan was. But sometime in the last year, Ethan had changed.

He had grown distant and cold, going as far as yelling at the girls which he never used to do. So Eddie quit producing music to give Ethan some much needed time for himself. Fat lot of good that did.

Because apparently Ethan was banging...well, just about everyone but Eddie’s friends. The pool boy, the guy who delivered their food, the cleaning lady, their personal trainer, hell even the barely legal dog walker got more of his husband’s dick than Eddie did.

Which he didn’t find out, by the way. Ethan had told him after handing him divorce papers and legally renouncing parental rights to Joan and Janice. He threw it in Eddie’s face the numerous affairs he had. The one thing he wouldn’t tell him was why.

Why was Ethan so unhappy when Eddie had done everything right?

He buried his head in hands. Janice and Joan were only four and they had been adopted at birth. They never met the mother and were only told that she didn’t want them and never wanted to see them ever again.

So how could Ethan look at those two little angels and decide the same?

Eddie was heartbroken and not ready to move on. So he had agreed to the tour as a way to cope with the sudden explosion of his life. His friends knew Ethan had left, but they didn’t know the extent of his ex’s destruction.

He thought about taking the girls with him, but they were too little. They wouldn’t have fun and would be more terrified then thrilled. So live-in nanny it was.

Thankfully he had a month to find someone who would cook and clean and watch the girls. Especially after having to fire all of his help in the wake of Ethan’s destruction.

He had this.

~

Eddie did not in fact have this. He only had three more days until he left and he was at his wit’s end. He had rejected candidate after candidate for a myriad of reasons. One only wanted part-time despite the ad before a live in nanny. Another said she was strict disciplinarian and thought spanking was the only way to teach a child. And even another just gave off weird vibes.

So he called the agency one more time.

“You’ve gone through all of our female nannies,” the woman huffed on the other end of the line. “We only have male nannies left, surly you don’t–”

“Just send the best male nanny you’ve got!” Eddie barked. “I don’t care about gender for fuck’s sake.”

“I’m not sure–” the woman protested but Eddie hung up on her.

He didn’t have time to listen to whatever excuse she was going to come up with. He was running out of time before the tour and needed someone. Anyone.

He got a call back five minutes later from another woman telling him that they would be sending over their best male nanny at 2pm if that was acceptable.

He sighed with relief. “Yes, that will be perfect. The girls will be down for their nap then.”

“That’s wonderful, Mr. Munson,” she said cheerfully. “The gentleman we are sending over, his name is Steve Harrington, and I sincerely hope he will be a good fit for you.”

“You and me both,” Eddie sighed again. “You and me both.”

~

When Steve got to the house, he would have liked to have said that he wasn’t impressed because he had seen dozens of large houses and even larger sprawling mansions in his time as a full time nanny, but he was. Very much so.

It wasn’t a gaudy modern monstrosity for starters. It liked a Victorian era manor that had been modernized for living in today. It gave off a spooky vibe, but in a fun way and not a horror movie way. Like the Addams family or the Munsters kind of vibe.

He really dug it.

He went up and knocked on the door. It swung open almost immediately to reveal a pretty, petite woman with sparkling green eyes and strawberry blonde hair. She had a sweet smile.

He knew this wasn’t the mother, the file said that it was a single father of twin girls. A rockstar of some sort, though Steve didn’t recognize the name. This must be some kind of servant or PA or something.

“Hi, I’m Steven Harrington,” he greeted putting out his hand for her to shake. “I have a two o’clock appointment with Eddie Munson about the nanny position.”

Her smile widened, dimpling her cheeks. “Hi, I’m Chrissy Cunningham, I’m Corroded Coffin’s manager. Come on in, he’s waiting for you.”

Steve followed her through the house. It was just as impressive as the outside. It was beautifully decorated in dark browns, reds, and black. God, he hoped he got the job. He could really see himself living here.

She opened the door to the office allowed him to walk through, closing it behind him. Which normally wouldn’t have been a problem for Steve but now he was in a room with the hottest guy he had ever seen in his life and he really didn’t need an erection at a job interview.

Eddie looked up, and yup. Steve was done for. He had the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen outside of a Disney cartoon.

“Mr. Munson?” he said, reaching out for a handshake, mustering up every ounce of professionalism he had. “Steven Harrington, how do you do? You can call me Steve.”

Eddie grinned back. “Hey, Steve. Thanks for coming at such a short notice. I understand you’ve been brought up to speed on everything I’ll be needed you to do?”

Steve crossed his legs and put his hands on his lap. Shit, even his voice was sexy as fuck.

“Yes, I’ll be watching the children twenty-four/seven,” Steve recited dutifully, “with doing all of the cooking and some of the cleaning.”

“That’s right,” Eddie said. “That normally wouldn’t be the case, but I’ve had to recently fire all of my staff. In fact, if you are hired on, you’ll be working with Chrissy over the next couple of months to help bring staff back on. I would be putting a lot of trust in you not to fuck me over.”

Steve nodded. It was a bit like Robin’s period dramas. He would be running the household while Eddie was away.

“Wouldn’t Chrissy be needed on tour with you?” he asked, not sure what her role actually was.

Eddie shook his head. “She usually does, but I need her here to help to get this house running again. It was hard enough trying to explain to the girls why everyone had to leave. Especially their other dad. She just has her own place and a very demanding job. And the other people I trust with my kids are going on tour with me, so...”

“Yeah, I can see that,” Steve said huffing out a chuckle. “I’m willing and able to take the job. There is just one more thing we have to do first.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “I don’t think I offered you the job yet.”

Steve burst out laughing. “No, I don’t suppose you did. But you really should. I’m really good with kids, I’m great cook, my references are impeccable, I have a degree in early child development, and you’re desperately out of time.”

“I noticed that all your previous families had older kids,” Eddie said picking up Steve’s resume. “Can you explain that?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a sigh. “Unfortunately, despite being practically perfect in every way,” Eddie huffed out a small laugh, “if I was a woman I would be the most sought after nanny in the whole god damned state. Even more so if I was older fifty. But because I’m a young man not even thirty yet and all they see is a predator.”

Eddie winced. He held up a finger. He picked up his phone and called the agency. “Hello? Hi Nancy, this is Eddie Munson. Yes, I will be taking Steve Harrington on as my nanny. Thank you so much for sending him over. Can you tell me who it was the first person I spoke to this morning? Yes, yes that’s the one. Kindly inform her that pushing harmful stereotypes only makes you look stupid. Mhmm. Yes. Yes. I want her fired. Thank you. Goodbye.”

Steve looked at him in awe. “Oh wow.”

Eddie grinned at him but before he could open his mouth to say something more, Chrissy poked her head in. “Sorry to disturb you but guess who woke up?”

“Janice?” Eddie replied with a fond smile.

“And guess who woke up her sister because she wanted someone to play with?” Chrissy said.

“Also Janice.” He sighed and turned to Steve. “You want to meet my little monsters?”

Steve smiled and stood up. “That was the one thing I was going to suggest we do before you hire me, is meet the girls. But having met their dad, I can already tell they’re going to be a handful.”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. But Chrissy laughed.

“Come on,” he said grumpily, “let’s go see the munchkins.”

Chrissy opened the door all of the way and Eddie and Steve followed her out. They reached the kitchen and there seating at a table were two of the cutest kids Steve had ever worked for. They both had light, curly brown hair and deep brown eyes, but that was where their similarities ended.

The one of the right had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail with a denim overalls over a pink shirt. The overalls had a cute pink kangaroo on the pocket on the front. The girl on the left had her hair carefully braided and wore light blue shirt and a black pleated skirt. They were both munching on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“Meet Janice and Joan,” Eddie said brightly. “Janice is the one on the right and the other is Joan. Janice is the oldest by seven minutes and she never lets Joan forget it.”

Joan stuck her tongue out at her dad around her sandwich and then went back to munching on it. Janice looked over at Steve and cocked her head to the side.

“Who’s that, Daddy?” she asked. And suddenly Steve was struck by how much the little girl acted like her dad.

“Girls,” Eddie said sternly, “do you remember when I said that Daddy was going to be gone for three months and you were going to be looked after by a new friend?”

Joan scrunched her nose and Steve was endeared. “Is he like one of those nannies that were so mean to us?”

“No, of course not, Joanie,” Eddie said, “not a nanny...” He looked to Steve for help.

“I’m what’s called an au pair,” he said brightly. “I’m here to watch over you and do a little of the cooking and cleaning, too. A nanny wouldn’t do that right?”

Joan and Janice shared a glance. And Steve was struck for the first time that they were really were twins. They acted so differently that he had already put them in separate boxes. But they moved in unison as they both shrugged.

“I guess not,” Janice huffed. “Are you going to be fun like Chrissy or strict like Daddy?”

The adults laughed as Steve walked over to the table. “My hope is to be somewhere in the middle. But I guess we’ll just have to see.”

He turned to Eddie and Chrissy. “If it’s all right, I’d like to get started now, give the girls time to get use to my presence while you’re still here, Eddie. That way we can smooth out any real problems before you go.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a glance.

“Yeah,” Eddie said, “that’ll be fine. Great even. I’ll give you a couple of hours to get your things and come back here. Would you be okay making us dinner?”

Steve beamed at him. “Sure, give me an idea of what you guys like and I’ll find something to make you. Let’s consider it part of the interview.”

Eddie smiled back. “Well I think you have yourself a deal.”

Steve and Eddie shook hands.

This was either going to the best decision of Eddie’s life or his worst. Currently the jury and his brain were still out on that one.

~

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

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

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

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

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- First time blow jobs, cumming, dirty talk, jealousy (Gojo is kinda sweet now yay lol)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 7.6k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Gojo Satoru is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? . You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.)

Chapter 5 - Masterlist - Playlist

Chapter 6

You tap your pen on the table, nibbling your lower lip and staring at the presentation you have just put together a couple of days later. Though not your ‘kink’ perhaps, it was immensely satisfying to do them, you had to admit. You clicked through each slide, making sure they all matched up just so, going over things for the tenth time in your head.

It was damn good.

You errantly pop your knuckles, starting to finish up, and then uploading it to your little thumb drive to show him. You peek over and see Gojo in his office, and of course Miwa is there, gushing over him. He kept a distance, you notice errantly, his hands were in his jean pockets, as it was your office’s casual day. Even you wore some jeans and a black tee shirt today.

Miwa came bouncing out, running over to you with a smile. “Mr. Gojo is ready to see you when you’re finished!”

“I actually just got done. Perfect.” You start to pack up some things since there are only a few minutes left, the office is already nearly empty since five o clock had just passed. “You should head home, Miwa.”

“I will see you later right?”

“I’ll be there!” She grinned and then headed out, leaving you relatively alone in the giant offices with Gojo. You caught his icy blue gaze, bringing your little flash over as you walked in his office. “All done, Sir.”

“Cut it a little close, hmm? Did you just wanna be alone with me.” He shot you a wink, and you rolled your eyes.

“It needed to be perfect.” You walk over to his computer, popping the drive in and loading the presentation.

“You smell really good.” He murmured, suddenly right behind you, and you let out a little gasp of surprise as he inhaled your scent.

“You scared me, shit.”

“Are you wearing that love potion shit?”

You chuckle at that. “Love Spell, yes.”

He sighed. “It’s something that reminds me of hot girls in high school.” He mused, playing with your hair errantly.

“That’s so random. Pay attention.” You lean over and press to start the presentation on his large curved monitor. His hand was against your waist, and you smack at it. “Gojo!”

“Assistant.” His voice tickles your ear. You feel desire just from that, and you hate him for what he does to your body.

“If someone comes back in…”

“Who cares. I’m Gojo Satoru.”

“You’re annoying is what you are.”

“You should wear this all the time.” He was sniffing you again, and you trembled in his hold, struggling to keep your composure. You feel yourself losing hold on your surroundings as his hand slides to your curved hip now.

“I should wear something that repels you. Like mosquito spray. Should see if it works for Gojos.”

He chuckled at that. “You’re going to try to avoid me with citronella? What am I a vampire that you need garlic for?”

“Yep, that. With those sharp fucking teeth. I- mnh.” He bit your neck then, and you trembled, pain and pleasure intermingling. He had nibbled before, but he had not just bit you with those damn sharp fangs of his… his…

“Hurt, brat?” He demanded, with that silken voice, and the cool air of the vents above you two shocked the hot and wet spot he had just devoured, making you shiver. “Ohh… you liked it, didn’t you baby girl?”

“N-no.” He bit you again, the same spot, doing more damage. Your hands clenched against the arm that held you, crying out and shivering, leaning so that he had more access. You were a terrible liar.

“No?” He licked the spot he had hurt, and it stung. All of it was shooting down to your pussy, as if it responded to Gojo ridiculously, he seemed to just talk straight to her and not your brain.

“Fuck… yes I like it. A lot.” Your ass arches back against his hard body, unwillingly.

“Good girl, telling the truth for once.” He whispered, kissing your cheek.

“I can't focus… Can we put a pin in this?”

“So fucking businessy ugh.” He brushed his fingertips along the skin he’d just bit, making you shiver.

“I need to know if you like it.” He sighed and pulled away finally, watching the slides for a few moments.

“It’s perfect like usual. Why even show me?” He rolled his eyes behind his shades and stuck his tongue out in the goofiest expression. You cross your arms, tapping your foot.

“It's literally my job to do that, well part of my job. You think it's good?”

“Of course it is. Not like you've ever given me anything not perfect. Can I just inhale that scent again?”

You chuckle, gently pulling out the thumb drive, turning to face him. “Sure, go ahead.”

Gojo moaned softly, and sniffed your neck, sighing happily, then he kissed you, and you pressed against his hard body, little tingles shooting from his lips like nothing you could describe. Yesterday you had not done anything and it had taken so much out of you it was embarrassing. He seemed to know every ounce of you, every sensitive place… how to touch and how much pressure…

Your lips were bold as he leaned you against his desk. You paused for a breath, shaking your head. “We have the work get-together. I need to get ready. If we keep going we won’t show up.”

“Fuck, I forgot.” He let you go, eyes raking down your body. “Want me to buy you an outfit for tonight?”

“You can't just keep buying me clothes, Satoru.”

He scowled. “Why the fuck not. I'm rich as fuck.”

“I…” You trail off with a breathy laugh.. “I have clothes I can wear, you don’t have to get me anything.”

“Mmm, probably some Nun clothes.”

“Bullshit. I have cute clothes! I'll bring citronella and garlic tonight..” You pulled away with a smirk.

“No. Wear this. You like me all over you, anyway..” He caressed your neck with his long fingers.

“Ugh.” You couldn't deny the obvious. But you wouldn't admit it.

“So… you gonna let me buy you drinks if not an outfit?”

“Um, you want to?” He nodded. “Isn't it kinda date-ish then?”

“Would that be so bad?” You had to admit the thought didn't bother you as it once would have.

“No… Not bad.” His brows raised at you.

“The orgasms I give you are so good you're starting to be nice to me. Holy fuck.” You smacked his chest. He laughed.

“Dick.”

“You love it.”

“Do not. ”

He started laughing at you then. “Well, let's get ready. I'm expecting something slutty.” Gojo led you to your desk. You snatched up your purse.

“It's a work thing, I'm not going all slutty.”

“You don't have any sense of fun.” He frowned as you two stepped into the elevator. He pushed a ton of the buttons, like a child wanting to light them up, and you scowled as he deviously looked at you.

“The fuck, Gojo! We'll be here forever ugh!” He laughed maniacally, pressing you into the wall. “You're such a dumbass.”

“A dumbass you wanna fuck.” He kissed you again, and you stopped on each empty floor. You cursed internally, smirking up at him. “Fuck me please Satoru. I can take that dick.”

You were bright red as he mocked you from the other day. “I can't stand you.” You shoved at him, then. He grabbed your leg, wrapping it around his hip, pressing so intimately it made you gasp.

“You know you're the only woman I have ever had to try for?” His other hand was on your face. You froze, blinking up at him.

Why had that not occurred to you before?

Why did that feel good to hear?

“Why try? You have girls in line to suck your dick.” He grinned, glint in his eyes. Another floor dinged. This would take forever.

“Yet I would rather eat you out, then have them suck me off.” You sighed when he grinded his hard cock against you in his jeans, denim on denim, friction making you ache.

“What about me sucking you off I wonder…” He stared down at you in shock, and your shock mirrored his. Did you say that out loud?

Another floor. Jesus let no one be there still.

“Shit. You want to?” He asked, softer. You bit your lower lip, arching your hips up and enjoying how his full lips parted.

You give a little nod. “I haven't before, though, so I might suck at it.”

His smile returned, devilish, and he pecked a little kiss on the tip of your nose.. “You want daddy Gojo to show you how hmm?”

“Daddy Gojo? The fuck.” You shook your head at him. “You’re too much.”

“My dick is.”

“Stuff it. Just kiss me again.” He traces the contours of your lips with his tongue before sliding in your mouth against yours in a push and pull, you took the lead, then he did, like a waltz.

Another floor.

Gojo was great at waltzing.

“Should I make you beg to suck my dick with that pretty mouth, little brat?” His whisper made you wetter.

You grabbed him by the collar of his expensive ass white shirt, then. “I should make you beg.”

“Is this a challenge? Because I'll win.” You snorted at him, kissing him again, and he drank your sighs of pleasure. “You fucking love kissing me. Don't you, brat.”

You loved it more than anything. That scared the living shit out of you. “You are a good kisser.”

“The best?” You flushed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “Say it.”

“You love to make me say shit, don't you.”

Another floor.

“I love watching you unravel for me.” He whispered, before his tongue slid back in between your lips. You moan, just enjoying how he fucking felt, how good you felt in his arms. Fuck.

One more floor.

“My little nun is always so hot here.”

He pressed himself against your aching cunt, hard. You cried out, clinging to him. Gojo eases off you then, putting his hand at the small of your back as you finally get to the first floor. You try to adjust your hair, your shirt, flustered and overwhelmed, stepping out of the elevator. Gojo was too much.

“Wear something black tonight. It looks good on you.” He eyed you, and you almost got lost in them.

“I'll wear bright orange, then.” Gojo laughed, rubbing your waist with familiarity as you stepped out of the doors of the office.

“Bitch.” He blew you a mocking kiss as he walked off, all long and lanky like some fucking model on a runway. You found it fucking endearing.

Shit… you really like him. 

What would that even mean… what could even come from it? Anything at all? He was Gojo… you were…

You were gonna wear black.

***

You walk into the little pub, and the vibrant atmosphere of the lively pub immediately envelops you. The warm golden lights that cast a soft glow on the people gathered, creating an intimate cozy little ambiance. The chatter of lively conversations, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter and even some shouts as people watched the game fills the room was a cacophony mixing with the music playing.

It’s super busy in there, so your eyes search for your group as you smooth down your little black pleated skirt. You see them then, Shoko, Suguru, Nanami, even Kiyotaka who looked just stressed and out of place you mused. Sukuna was there with them all as well, decked in a suit, unlike the rest of the casual group, all sitting around a big wooden table.

You don’t see Gojo until your eyes hit the polished wooden bar, then you see Miwa and Gojo sitting next to each other.

You pause, and notice the pretty bartender flirting with Gojo as Miwa just gushed, sipping on a little red drink. You were curious if she was even old enough, but you then remember Japan has a different drinking age. As you navigate through the crowd, you see Sukuna and Suguru are about to play darts.

Sukuna calls out your name and waves, so you head to them with a bright smile. “Ooh, remind me to have us go out more often if you’re dressing like that.” Sukuna drawled, eyes shooting straight to the little corset top you wore and the ample cleavage that showed. You flushed.

“Sukuna, you’re such a pervert. No way to talk to a lady.” Suguru took your hand and winked at you, making you do a spin. “Gorgeous.”

“Thank you, Suguru. And I guess thanks, Sukuna?” You huffed, and he laughed, hand on your back.

“Play darts with me?” He asked, and you grinned.

“Oh I’ll stomp your ass.”

“Oh really?” His smile was cocky, everything about Sukuna was cocky though, even more than Gojo if that was possible. Next to the calm Suguru they were like night and day.

“Mhmm. Need a drink first though.” Sukuna gestured to the little table full with a bucket of beer. “No, like liquor.”

“Oh shit, she’s really come to the party.” Shoko came up to you all then, as did Nanami, who shot you a little half smile.

“Hey guys!” You gave Shoko a little hug.

“You came out! I’m glad Miwa got hired, now you can actually breathe a little.” Shoko said, and you wanted to feel grateful. But then…

“Gojo just didn’t want her to leave.” Nanami said, and Sukuna’s brows raised.

“I could have stolen you away, goddammit. I lost my chance.” He frowned, wrapping a big arm around you. You snorted.

“You’d probably work me harder.”

“Oh I’d work you all right.” He shot you a wicked wink. Everyone yelled at him, yanking him off you. “Fine, fine. Let me get the lady a drink would you all? I’ll be a gentleman.”

“Yeah right, I’ll grab her one.” Suguru took you by the hand, and you laughed as Sukuna frowned like a kid who’d lost a toy.

“My hero.” You teased, batting your eyelashes up at him.

“I got you, no worries.” He held out two fingers, waiting for the bartender to stop flirting with Gojo. “Fucking Gojo, can’t take him anywhere.”

“I know.” You rolled your eyes, but Suguru studied you seriously.

“You like him, don’t you?”

“What? No! I… mean… no?” You chewed your lip, leaning against the bar, sighing then. “Why would you say that, Suguru?”

“I can see by your reaction that it's past liking.” He tilted his head, long hair falling just over his shoulder.

“It’s complicated.” You sigh, trying not to look at Gojo or Miwa.

“Well, he certainly likes you. A lot.” The bartender came, and he ordered you your favorite cocktail.

“What? No. You see him.”

“He’s liked you for a long time. But like a child yanking on a classmate’s hair, he was mean to you. He’s kinda stupid when it comes to that shit.” He rolled his eyes, and you felt a gaze from behind you, intense. You stiffened. “And he’s staring. Hmm.”

“Is he now?” You tried to act unbothered, waving a hand errantly. Suguru Geto saw right through you.

“I’ve known him since middle school. He is one of my best friends… but he really can be just a dick. But yeah, he was pretty worried you’d leave. Not to say that isn’t mostly because you’re the best, but something else is ticking in the empty little head of his.” He tapped his temple.

“Am I so obvious?”

“You aren’t, I am just good at reading people. Just be careful, yeah? I love Gojo but I wouldn’t want you to be hurt by him either.”

“I don’t intend to like… date him? I don’t think… does he date really or just fuck? Also I don’t think I’m really his type?”

“His type is not his type. Not really. He’s a confusing little shit. He would get serious with a good whack if you need me too." You snorted, peeking behind your shoulder. Another bartender was flirting with him.

“He really is a little shit.” You giggle, sipping your drink. “Are you playing darts too?”

“Ooh yes, let’s do it. Let’s team up on Sukuna.” He chuckled and you two went back over to where the group was. Nanami and Shoko had a deck of cards out, playing a drinking game, and Shoko sure could take shots. She was beating the crap out of him.

You went over to the dartboard as Gojo and Miwa made their way back. Miwa ran over to you, gushing.

“Oh my gosh you look so hot!” She cooed, complimenting your look. You smiled with a thank you and complimented her little outfit as well, a little mini skirt and a cute blouse with a tie.

“You look super pretty, Miwa!”

Gojo stared at you as you spoke, eyes raking you in, and he came up to you and surprised you by kissing your cheek softly, giving you a little one armed hug around the waist, bringing you against his hard chest. You inhaled his cologne as it mixed with his natural scent, woodsy and bright. You tried not to sniff him. Your colleagues were a little more quiet, watching you two.

“You look hot as fuck.” He said, and you laughed a bit, softly. Gojo’s compliments were always giving you whiplash. He pulled back to look down at you, and it was like it was just you two, and you hated that.

“Thank you.” You looked up at him, taking in his black dress shirt and slacks, and he looked good as fuck. Like a million bucks, as always. “You look good too.”

“Of course I do.” He shot a wink at you, and your eyes rolled.

“Team up with us.” Suguru Geto smacked Gojo hard in the back of his shoulder blades, winking over to you as well. He had some plan, you were sure.

“Who’s playing?” Gojo didn’t have on his sunglasses, and those goddamn eyes made it hard to focus as he stared right at you, intensely.

“You could wait and play with Miwa. It’s me, Suguru and Sukuna.” Your words were dripping with sarcasm. He scowled at you. Suguru chuckled.

“Oh no… I don’t play darts. I will go play some cards!” Miwa shot you all a little wave and bounced over to where Shoko was still annihilating Nanami.

“Who’s on which team then?” Sukuna asked, wrapping an arm around Gojo, who had his hands in his pockets.

“I’ll team up with Suguru.” You piped in, and Gojo’s pretty blue eyes narrowed, while Suguru smirked.

“I’d love to team up and stomp their asses.”

“Oh no… I must play against Gojo. You’re with me.” Sukuna yanked your arm, pulling you to him.

“Then let me and her team up. We will stomp your asses.” Gojo winked, and yanked you to him.

“Am I some fucking doll or something?” You rolled your eyes, and Sukuna and Suguru laughed. Gojo just studied you, grip tight on your arm. “I wanted to play with Suguru.”

“Oooh, dirty.” Sukuna winked, and you flushed.

“Oh god… not like that!”

“You’ll be fine without your bestie.” Gojo huffed, and you and Suguru frowned, making Gojo sigh and shake his head, Sukuna just grinning like the whole Devil. Gojo led you over to the bucket with all the darts, peeking down into it with you. “What color, Princess?”

Fuck you liked those pet names. Your mind went awry for a minute, as you pressed against him, leaning forward, just a brush of his hard body against you making you both tense a bit. “Hmm. Black for me.”

He snatched up some for you, blue darts for himself. “I like the outfit.”

His voice was husky against your ear as he bent over you to snatch them all up. You felt your body overheat. “Thank you. Told you I have cute outfits.”

“That corset… it’s doing things.” He put a firm hand on your waist, and it burned through the layer of the corset then, branding you for him.

“Good things?” You teased, smirking up at him. His face was oddly serious, his grip a little tighter as his eyes raked in your breasts, pushed up high in the outfit. Your mind is wild with memories of him biting your nipple, grabbing them…

Fuck.

“Very good things.” He answered, and you had forgotten the question. “The skirt is also doing things.”

“Is it? It’s not even short.” You mused, for it was well past mid thigh. He errantly slid a hand up your thigh a bit, making you bite your lip hard, lest an embarrassing cry escape your lips.

“Makes me wanna sit you up on a sink in the bathroom and make you come on my face.” It was a whisper, and it made you shiver, desire shooting hot through your body. “You’re so goody goody you’d never.”

“I… you… shit.” You grumbled, and he laughed, taunting you. “I am not a goody goody. You’re just a whole ass deviant.”

“Maybe I am.” You all got waved over, and Gojo didn’t take his hand off as you walked back. You noticed eyes on you both. “How good are you at darts, little brat?” He asked softly.

“I’m great. I have your picture at home and I aim for your forehead.” You said with a wink. He scowled, and Sukuna and Suguru burst out laughing.

“I have one too.” Sukuna wiggled his brows.

“You’re a dick. And you’re a bitch.” He let go of you then, and you grinned.

“Let’s do it.”

As you teamed up with Gojo, taking turns, you all surprisingly made a great team. Gojo’s precision was next level, and you came in clutch with your bullseyes. With every dart thrown, the tension escalated between the teams, and soon nearly everyone around you was invested in the game.

You and Gojo worked together seamlessly, your movements synchronized as you aimed for the bullseye and the triple twenties. Sukuna and Geto fought back with equal ferocity, their darts whistling through the air.

It was fucking fun.

You took a sip of your drink and wiped the sweat off your brow, as the end was approaching. “Holy fuck this is a whole battle.”

Gojo chuckled, taking your now empty drink. “It really is. Let’s grab you a drink. I was supposed to buy you one you know.”

“I think you were buying Miwa one when I got here.” You brought it up casually, and you two excused yourselves, leaving the two men to grab their own beers and take a breather.

“Such a jealous little bitch.” He gripped you hard, as you all stood over at the bar, and Gojo raised long fingers of the hand that didn’t have you in a vise.

“I’m not at all. It’s a fact. Suguru got me one.” You smiled sweetly, batting your eyelashes, pressed against him.

“You just really like to make me fucking mad.” He said through his teeth. You shook your head but you kind of did enjoy it, you had to admit, hiding your smirk as the bartender came, ignoring you completely and simping for Gojo. “Give me a pink pussy for the lady.”

“A what?” You asked curiously.

He grinned, and the bartender frowned, looking at you, assessing you as if you were now her enemy. Gojo sat you up into the tall bar stool, bending down a bit, leaning his elbows on the bar. “She didn’t like you.”

“Because she wants your dick.”

“Who doesn’t? And don’t say you. You want it most of all.” The little pink drink came, and Gojo smiled charmingly at the pouty bartender, handing it to you with a straw. “She didn’t scowl at Miwa, they got along actually. You’re intimidating.”

“I’m five foot nothing, Gojo. I’m not a model or anything to be worried about.” You take a sip of your cocktail, the sweet and tangy flavors dancing on your tongue. “Oh fuck, that’s yummy.”

“See? Gotta trust me. And you don’t see yourself like others do. Like I do.”

“I know, I know, you think that I would tie you up and powerpoint you to death.” You nudged him a bit, and he was between your thighs, making you suck in your breath, horny as fuck in the dark bar.

“I’d let you.”

“You’re really… on me. In front of everyone.”

“Ah, embarrassed? Shy?”

“I just don’t want to give the wrong idea.”

“What’s that?”

“That we’re more than just… I don’t fucking know. What even are we, Satoru? Makeout work buddies?” Your brows knitted together. Your head hurts just thinking of it. You had no answers.

“You always need to define shit. You’re so fucking uptight. I should loosen you up some more.” And then his hand was under your skirt, and your eyes met, yours wide, his lidded. His thumb found your clit with disturbing quickness, and he raised his brows as he felt around. No one could see the action, he was slick, but you felt…

God you felt a lot.

“Are these…” He played with the material, and red tinted his cheeks, leaning further towards you.

“Shut up.” You were as red as a tomato. His grin was triumphant.

“Aw, you’re such a good girl, wearing crotchless panties just for me. ” He whispered viciously, you shook your head, begging your pussy to not get stupid wet around him. It didn’t listen. “What, for someone else?”

“Maybe.” He scowled, then, and snapped the elastic hard, making you wince as it smacked the side of your lips. “Ow! Dick!” You hissed quietly.

“Admit they’re for me.” He crooned the words, and you scowled back at him.

“Maybe I just wear them for no good reason.”

“You sure the fuck do not. You wear boy shorts.”

“How the fuck? Pervert.”

“Say it.”

You shoved at him, and he snapped the elastic on the other side, you had to grind your teeth against the pain. “Yes. For you. Ugh.”

He grinned like he’d won the damn lottery. “Oh my, such a dirty nun you have become. What will the church say?”

You couldn’t stop your little laugh, and his hand slid down your thigh, leaving little trails of goosebumps wherever he touched. “You’re so annoying, Satoru.”

“You love it. And no, I wasn’t trying to fuck Miwa, by the way. I was just buying her a drink and talking.”

“I wouldn’t care.” You lied. You hated how much you cared. “It’s your life, I don’t claim to have some say in it.”

He frowned. “Maybe you should show how you really feel. But you’re too afraid to say it.”

“I…” You sighed. “Yeah, I am.”

“Afraid of feeling things?” He asked softly, his demeanor just a little different for the moment, more serious. You sighed.

“Yeah, I am. Feeling things I shouldn’t.”

“What, wanting to suck me off got you crying ?” You blinked back emotion, gulping, looking down. “Look, I’m kidding-”

“The experiences I had… it was like a couple times and it was like I was pressured? So I kind of told myself I just wouldn’t do that until I actually got with someone I cared about. And well… now I’ve got your hand under my skirt and it’s really fucking confusing.” You hated how it all spilled out. Gojo was silent, and you sipped your drink with a shaky breath. “Go ahead and laugh.”

“So sex is special to you now, because before it wasn’t, and you regret it.” You blinked a bit in surprise.

“Yeah, that summed it up quickly. Shit.”

“You talk too much. So you’re confused, you want me but without some weird feelings or something?”

“No. Feelings will come for me on my end, and then… then it’ll be weird? Especially if I leave.”

“You aren’t going anywhere.” His hand slid down to your knee, grasping it firmly. “So you have feelings for me and you’re all scared like a little chicken shit. Aw that’s kind of cute!”

“I didn’t say I did! Yet. I… I just don’t know. And it’s not like it would be returned on your end. I know how you are.”

“You don’t know shit. You’re dumb as fuck for how smart you seem.” He yanked you down, making him so much taller than you again, towering over you, intimidating and tantalizing you at the same time. “Why don’t you take things as they go rather than getting in that head of yours?”

“Shit.” You sighed. The alcohol started to hit a bit, making this enigmatic handsome fucking man make a lot of sense. Your body felt warm, tingly. “Let’s just go play.”

He rolled his eyes at your non answer, and took you by the hand back to the little dart game you all were playing. As the final round approached, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, from the game somewhat but moreso from Gojo’s words. The weight of the words you spoke pressed down upon you, but you refused to let it fuck your game.

You met Gojo's gaze as you had the final shot, his eyes conveying something serious but also his smile was playful. With a deep breath, you hurled your final dart towards the board. It landed squarely in the bullseye, securing you and Gojo’s victory. You turned to face Gojo, your eyes sparkling. He snatched you up in the air and spun you.

“That’s my girl!” He stood you back down in front of him, and you giggled, turning to face Sukuna and Suguru. Sukuna was furious, Suguru had a smile playing on his lips as he watched you both.

“Fuck you both.” Sukuna flipped you two off, sulking, and you all laughed around him. You ended up at the table with everyone, and you just honestly had fun. Fun . For the first time in a while, there was a little thrill as you and Gojo sat together, his arm casually around the back of your chair.

“Did you drive here?” Gojo asked you after some time. You shook your head.

“I took a ride since I knew I’d be drinking.”

“I’ll have Kiyotaka drive us. Anyone else need a ride?”

“Not with you two. You’re just like a married couple bickering.” Sukuna grumbled. You sputtered, and Shoko and Nanami raised brows at you both. Gojo leaned back in his chair with a laugh.

“We don’t bicker! We… well shit.” You sighed in defeat.

“She’s secretly in love with me. Don’t embarrass her.” Gojo said, and you smacked at his shoulder.

“You wish.” You all continued on until everyone started to get ready to go, hugging and saying goodbyes to each other. Gojo took you by the hand, and you all went to the car Kiyotaka had already started.

“Food?” He asked simply. You leaned back in the car a bit, humming to yourself, feeling light and airy, your head just a little fuzzy.

“Hmm. Maybe. I didn’t eat much today.”

“You smell good enough to eat.” He teased, and before you knew it, you were on him, straddling his lap indecently in the back of the car, as Kiyotaka drove on. His hands were on your waist, and you were grinding on him, fucking obscene, you didn’t care. You had no barrier but Gojo’s own pants. He hissed, halting you. “Fuck.”

“S-sorry. Carried away.” You pause, burying your face  in his neck. “Gojo… can I ask you something?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Do you like me?”

He broke into a laugh, and you buried your head further, his arms around you, chest shaking with laughter. “Do I like you?” You nod, not facing him. “Yes, I fucking like you, silly girl.”

“Not just my super wet pussy?” He laughed harder, yanking you back so you could face him. Your eyes were unable to look into those blue depths, so you just looked at his glossy lips.

“That’s definitely a bonus. Not gonna lie. What, you think I do this…” He kissed you then. “And don’t like you?”

“You don’t like everyone you fuck. Do you?”

“Fucking is just fucking sometimes. Sometimes it’s more.”

“We haven’t… so you… do you…”

“Having trouble using words?” You sigh, nodding. “This isn’t like you. Usually you won’t shut the fuck up.”

“I know.” Your head went buried in your hands now. You didn’t wanna ask it, and you didn’t wanna care.

“I’m not fucking anyone currently, if that’s your concern.” He stated it plain and clear, but you were mortified. “Thought you didn’t care, hmm?”

“It’s not something I need from you. If we… if we fuck or whatever this situation becomes, as long as you’re careful, I don’t expect you to just not fuck others. You’re Gojo Satoru. They’re everywhere. And I know that.”

He paused, sighing, gently pulling your hands down. “I don’t wanna fuck anyone but you right now. So I haven’t. I’m not dying from no pussy for a week, I promise I’ll survive fine.” He smiled, a little sad, caressing your face.

“You haven’t?”

“You seem shocked. No, I'm pretty occupied with you. You’re so annoying, that’s what it is.” You smiled a little tremulously. “There, that’s better. Why don’t we get some food for you and sober you up, hmm?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” You burrowed back into his neck. “You’re comfy.”

He chuckled. “Am I?”

“Mmhmm. And you’re actually really thoughtful.”

“Shh, keep that to yourself. Don’t ruin my reputation.”

You two end up snatching up food through the drive-through. You make it to your home pretty quickly. “Do you… wanna come up?”

He blinked, eyeing you up and down. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. To eat?”

“Yeah… you gonna make Kiyotaka drive all night though or do you wanna let me sleep there?”

You flushed. “I can let you crash. You can wear my pink pajamas.”

“I’ll look so beautiful.” He fluttered those long silvery lashes. You giggled, and got out of the car, waiting for him to tell Kiyotaka. He sped off. “He’s happy.”

“You work him too hard. Come on.” You two trudge up to your apartment, and you flick on the lights. “Let’s drink water too.”

“That’s a good idea.” You bend over and grab the water bottles, and turn to find Gojo’s body bent over, head tilted. You flush. “I am gonna be really fucking mad if you bent over like that at the damn bar.”

“I didn’t.” You tremble a bit as you hand him the water, snatching up the food and heading to the couch.

“Good because I just saw pussy and all.”

“Did not!”

“Did so.”

“Hush.” You hand him the fries and burger he’d ordered, popping on music. You nibbled on the fries, moaning. “Yum!”

“You listen to this?” He asked softly. You giggled.

“Mmhmm. Even before I moved here I listened to a lot of Japanese pop. This is from my favorite Anime.”

“Ah, the guy all over your room?”

“Mmhmm. He’s a whole sorcerer. He’s my anime husband.” You nibble some more and he just watches you, amused.

“I’m jealous.”

“He’s fictional. It’s okay.” You pat his shoulder with a giggle.

“You know… I think we’re kinda on like our third date.”

“We haven’t been on one yet!”

“What do you call this?”

“Not a real one.”

“Okay, brat, then I will ask you for a real one. My boat isn’t big enough, hmm?” You snorted, but your heart fluttered. A date… a real one… with Gojo?

“Your boat is awesome. Okay, I’ll go on a date with you. Let me guess, that award ceremony?”

“No, but I still want you to come to it. How about tomorrow? Real date. And then you can come to my house and help me work on my speech?”

“Business and pleasure.” You winked, popping another fry into your mouth. He grinned.

“You’re getting it.”

“I’ll go.”

“Yeah?” You nod. “Knew it. How could you turn me down?”

“On second thought…” He scowled at your laughter. “No, no, I will go. It sounds fun even.”

“I’m always a good time.” He kissed you, softly. You sighed, easing away.

“Let’s see what clothes I can find you.”

“Can I shower too?” Gojo in your shower? Jesus fuck…

“Of course. I have one.” He smirked. “That was so dumb…” You smack yourself on the head. “Who doesn’t? I mean yes you can. Oh! I remember I have your clothes. You can just put those on to sleep.”

“See, I already have clothes in your apartment.” He backed you into the wall with shocking speed. “Soon I’ll have my own drawer.”

“You’re ridiculous.” You shove at him. He kisses you, slowly, softly, and you tiptoe, your arms reaching around his shoulders, saying fuck anything and everything. His kisses consume you.

“Shower with me.” He whispered, and you felt yourself falling further and further, into a confusing horny mess. “I’m so good at washing hair. Want me to wash yours? You’ll love it.”

“That sounds nice.” Your face was buried in his chest.

“My little nun is all shy tonight.”

“Not a nun…” You turn and step into your bathroom, which you don’t think Gojo has seen yet. It was decked out in pink marble everything, and your shower was actually big and nice, pretty white tile that was a bitch to keep clean and a waterfall shower head, something you splurged on. You started turning the water until it was hot enough. “How hot do you like it?”

“Scalding.”

“Same.” You giggle, and then put two fluffy towels on the wrack. He smirked. “Yeah they’re pink too.”

“I look great in pink. I won’t complain.” He started undressing, shutting the door behind him, and you did the same, turning. He stopped you as you went to take off the panties, hands on your hips. “Fuck those are hot. Allow me.”

Gojo kneeled behind you, sliding your panties down your thighs, and your legs trembled when he kissed the ass that was bare to him, the same spot he’d smacked the shit out of the other day. He eased back up, and you walked in the shower, letting the hot spray start to hit you, he followed, and you looked at him, his beautiful body, always hiding in long sleeve suits.

“You’re gorgeous.” You murmured, hands trailing down his abdomen, seeing his full hardness you had not even gotten to hardly touch. He was huge, thick, veins wrapping around his cock, so long you doubted you actually could take him. Gojo shut the glass of the shower, coming against you under the waterfall that was pouring down on you both.

“I am gorgeous.” He chuckled at you, wiggling his brows. He started peeking at your toiletries, snatching shampoo up. “You’re beautiful.” His hand gently traced the curve of your body, like an artist with a brush. “Come here, you’ll like it.”

You let him lather your hair up, slowly, massaging your scalp, and it did feel good, so fucking good. “Ugh I needed this.”

“You need a good massage too. You’re a tense bitch.”

“Fuck off.” You whisper it though, leaning back as he uses the pull down head to spray the suds out.

“I like it, it makes that pussy extra tight.”

“Shut up, Gojo.”

Your words are just sighs. He slicks some conditioner in your hair, piling it up on your head. You peek up at him and switch spots. Now he’s fully under the spray. The droplets hit his hard body and fall in little rivulets. You’re feeling bold. You slide a hand against him, and his abdominals tighten. He doesn’t stop you  from gently stroking his cock this time, he just eases his back against the tile wall, watching.

You do know how to do this properly, you think, and you twist gently at the top, watching his face as you stroke him. Your pussy is aching but you want to make him feel just a bit of what you do. You get on your knees, and he pauses you, tilting your chin up, hot spray and steam falling around you both. He says your name ever so softly then.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” He asked. It made you pause. When it came to pleasuring you, he had no care, he made you beg. But now, he asked about you, worried look almost on his face. You nod.

“I want you in my mouth.” He cursed.

“Put this on the hottest thing I’ve ever seen or heard list.” He caressed your face, tilting your chin up. “Your knees okay though?” You nod again, loving how thoughtful he was, how surprising it was.

“Tell me a little what to do?” You ask nervously, and he slides a thumb across your lower lip, making you open a bit.

“You can lick it first. Fuck.” You lick his tip, tasting something salty amongst the hot water beating down. “Open.” You do. He grabs you by your slick hair, and guides himself into your mouth, hot and so hard. He moaned, and took one of your hands, wrapping it around him. “I’m big so use your hand too. Your mouth can’t do it all. Go up and down.”

You start sliding your hand with your mouth, taking a moment to get a rhythm going, and your saliva and the water made things slick, he slid in and out of your mouth with ease. His hands were enwrapped in your hair, and he was moaning, echoing in the shower, turning you on more and more with each sound, each tensing of his hands. You tried to take more but he eased back a bit.

“Don’t hurt your throat.” He murmured. You peeked at him. “Play with yourself for me, would you?” You flush, finger sliding down to your aching clit, puffy and sore with desire. You were slick. You moan and he swore.

You look so fucking gorgeous, on your knees, those pretty eyes looking up at Gojo as you take his cock, your moans vibrating around him, your mouth so hot and wet. You cry out as you play with yourself, little tears making your eyes glisten, and Gojo has to lean against the wall as you suck harder, making him closer and closer, but he wants it to last, wants to keep watching you on your knees. Taking him so good in that mouth.

“You’re such a good girl for me.” He whispered, caressing your face. You felt yourself losing control at his words, and your hand struggled to keep going as you sucked him harder, he grew impossibly big in your mouth. “Where do you want me to come? I’m really fucking close.”

You locked eyes with him, not answering, instead bobbing your head down as much as you could go, relaxing your throat and taking in so much you were choking on it, tears hit your eyes and you coughed. He paused you, tilting your chin up, those blue eyes and dripping lashes drinking you in as you drank in his cock.

“Brat wants all my come does she?” You nodded, crying out, and he stopped your motions. “Ask for it.”

“You’re the worst.” He smirks down at you. Your eyes look up seductively, and your hands slide up to his thighs, gripping, watching the desire fill his eyes. “Let me drink your cum, Gojo. I want it.”

“Goddammit.”

He was shaking, his usually stable big ass hands, were trembling against you, before he wrapped a hand in your hair, and shoved into your mouth, fucking it. He eased back as he came, you knew so he did not hurt you, and he pulsed in your mouth, as hot sticky liquid started to shoot into it.

“Take it all, just like that. You’re doing such a good job.” You sucked it all, swallowed every bit of it, with his praise, and felt him soften slightly, gasping as you flicked your tongue on his tip. “Fuck. Jesus fuck.”

You eased up, and he helped you. Your knees were red, your lips were too, fucked raw like your throat. He picked you up with ease, slamming you against the wall, wrapping your legs around his waist. You kissed him, and felt him start to lose himself in you too. You both drank in each other's sighs, moans, under the hot water that pounded down on you.

“How’d I do?” You asked softly, and his lips parted.

“How’d you fucking do? You’re a whole dick sucking champ.” You snorted in laughter. “I can’t put things elegant or what the fuck. You…” He paused, thinking of words.

“It’s okay.”

“No. Not okay… it was mind blowing. And I’m not exaggerating. I’m literally fucking spent.” He kissed you, softer. You moan quietly as his kisses trail down your neck.

“Good. I have to be the best at everything you know.”

“My little perfectionist.” He pressed firmer against you. “Want me to return the favor?” He asked softly, and you shook your head. “Why not?”

“It was enough for me to pleasure you.” He grew serious, studying you. Then he shook his head a bit, as if shaking himself out of some deep thoughts.

“I bet you’re close.” He found your clit, holding you with one arm, sliding it in little circles. You cry out, arching into his touch, shivering, as he brings you to a climax within moments. “You’re too pretty when you cum. Can’t not do it.” He kissed you softly, easing you down. Your legs were jello yet again.

“Should have made you beg, dick.” You giggled as he turned off the water, then gasped as he smacked your ass hard, while wet. “Ouch!”

“Watch that mouth, fucking brat.” You liked it all too much. Everything about him, even his fucking dick, one you hadn’t even had in you yet. How fucked would you be when that happened?

And now you are going on a real date.

With Gojo, a man you knew you didn’t hate, not really.

One you felt shit for. Confusing shit.

You were in deep now.

Chapter 7

Ao3 chapter:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/141269194#workskin

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader

[Chapter 24] || [Chapter 26]

Pairing: 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.2K~ cw: not smut but a bit of sexual tension Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ahem ahem ahem ahem

thanks to @lyralein for helping solve a problem I was having during this chapter

and also @st-el-la-luna for THIS brilliance that although I didn't copy or anything, still got stuck in the back of my head and made me giggle and inspired me a little!

Chapter 25: Soap............?

you: simon. you: save me pls. Simon: Location. you: that felt ominous as fuck. Simon: You texted me to help you. Simon: Location. you: oh gosh no simon its not urgent. you: its not even like you: a panic thing you: no danger Simon: Don’t ever text me to save you when it isn’t an actual emergency. you: i’m sorry!!!!!! you: did i scare you that much??? Simon: Yes. Simon: You had me ready to steal a HUMVEE to get to you. you: I’M SORRY! you: i’m just out with my friends for brunch and kyle and johnny came and they’re embarrassing me and i need help Simon: So that’s where they went. Simon: You’ve got this. you: SIMON, THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT OUR SEX LIVES! you: DON’T LEAVE ME TO DEAL WITH THIS ALONE. you: HELP? Simon: Darling you’re dating them, you’re gonna have to get used to this sooner or later. you: I KNOW BUT STILL you: SIMON PLEASE Simon: I’m in a meeting, darling. Simon: You’ve got this. Simon: 🖤 you: SIMON?! you: awwww you sent me an emoji! you: BUT SIMON?!?!?!??! you: don’t leave me like this!!! you: how dare youuuu

He stopped responding so you sighed dramatically and put your phone away, your eyes flittering over the table.

In just 15 minutes, Johnny and Kyle had gone from bickering to regaling your friends with sexcapade stories to talking about your dates, about each other, about the rest of the guys, about work. 

Your friends are, of course, eating it up, how could they not? The lads are charming, funny, interesting, hot…

You want to pay attention to the stories Johnny is regaling your friends about, as well as Kyle, with the retelling of his helicopter upside-down cruise, but… you can’t. You’re still mortified, long after they moved away from the sex talk… 

And it doesn’t help that Kyle has taken your chair and made you sit on his lap while the five of you talk.

Sure, you’ve graduated to regular talk, but that doesn’t solve the fact that Kyle’s cock is hard, straining against the fly of his grey jeans, and slotted right between your ass cheeks, his hands gripping you around the hip to keep you sat still.

Thank God for the existence of Simon Motherfucking Riley (memo to self: ask him and the rest of the lads what their middle names are)...

The door opens after what felt like a torturous amount of time and in strolls a 6ft4 mountain of a man in all black, as usual.

“L.T.!” Johnny shouts and waves him over, as if somehow Johnny’s raucous laugh was missable and Simon might not know where he, and the group, is.

Your friends, of course, immediately look over, their jaws proceeding to drop in unison at the sight of Simon.

His sexy little black leather jacket, black jeans, black t-shirt, black boots… No mask in sight… And, for once, his hair is lying flat over his forehead, loose blond strands just barely reaching his thick eyebrows.

He has to have done it on purpose.

“Hi…” You greeted Simon softly, your face warming up a bit at the sight of him. He nods at you and cocks an eyebrow, the left corner of his mouth rising in a smirk.

Just as you’re wondering where he came from, how he knew where you were, and wasn’t he in a meeting…

“Finally. Texted ye the address like 30 minutes ago.” Johnny quips next to you.

“Piss off.” Simon replies as he keeps looking at you. He doesn’t even bother to introduce himself to Leah and Mia.

“Hear you’ve been embarrassing our partner.” Simon says, his brown eyes slowly sliding up to Johnny then to Kyle behind you.

“Ye did?” Johnny asks and turns to look at you. “Ye told on me?!” He asks dramatically, as if it was the biggest betrayal.

“Don’t look at ‘em, look at me.” Simon quips as he leans forward and rests his hand on the back of Kyle and your chair, glaring right at Johnny.

“Oh, please, L.T., it’s all good-natured.” Johnny says dismissively with a playful smile on his lips.

“Is it?” Simon retorts.

“Why’s it feel like I’m watching a big brother confront a school bully?” Kyle quips.

“Don’t start too, Garrick, you’ll get your dose soon.” Simon adds.

“Si… Please…” You remark and laugh nervously as you look around, your face already burning hotter and hotter. “We’re making a scene.”

“You asked me to save ya, darlin’, that’s what I’m doin’, hm?” Simon tells you before leaning close and planting a kiss on the corner of your mouth, his eyes still glued to Johnny. “So, how about it, Johnny?”

“How about what, L.T.?” Johnny asks, though, you don’t miss the way his eyes are shining at the sight of Simon’s protectiveness… or the way Kyle’s breath hitches right behind your ear, his cock throbbing against your ass.

“If you’re so keen on embarrassing people by revealing private matters… How about we tell everyone about the reason your callsign’s Soap?” Simon quips. Then, he turns his head and, staring right at your friends, he continues.

“A callsign is like an alias we use over the radio.” He explains. “And Johnny’s here is ‘Soap’... wanna guess why? I’ll tell you…” He turns his head and looks right at Johnny again.

“It’s because he’s dropped his in the shower more often than one can stand to bloody count, if you catch my drift.” He remarks, then, he shoots you a little wink.

“That’s nae- You know it’s- You-” For the first time in what must be his whole life, Johnny was left a blubbering mess, stuttering over himself…

“Damn… didn’t know friendly fire was turned on…” You quip, trying to clear the air a bit. It seems to work, because all three of the men around you chuckle at it.

Your eyes then lock with Simon’s, then Johnny’s… and meanwhile, Simon’s also looking at Kyle behind you. The sexual tension is almost palpable…

“I think we should go home, so we avoid any more embarrassment, hm?” Simon suggests and pulls you up to your feet by the forearm, causing you to squeak in surprise at the suddenness of it. 

“I agree.” Kyle says as he stands up too. 

“Well said, L.T.” Johnny adds.

Simon pulls out his wallet and drops a few bills on the table. “For the check.” He tells Leah and Mia. “Nice to meet you.” Then, he drags you out of the bistro.

“It was very nice to meet you!” Kyle tells the girls, making no attempts to cover the bulge in his pants as he rushes after you and Simon.

“Sorry, duty calls. But we need to do this again.” Johnny adds as he scoots across the gap in the chairs and winks at the girls before setting off after the three that have already left. “I’ll make sure to tell you all the hot gossip next time!” He adds loudly before leaving out the door.

Leah and Mia are left sitting there flabbergasted, eyes blinking slowly, before exchanging a look with one another.

“The candle worked too well.” Mia states blankly.

“It did.” Leah agrees. “Do you… have another one?”

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

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @cod-z , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @xxshadowbabexx

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[huopilled]

⤷ COUPLE UP — k.mj

masterlist | next

ೃ࿔࿐ CHAPTER I — GAME START

the cameras were focused on her, the studio lights making her sweat a little. she hoped they weren't able to see the beads of sweat through the cameras. yn always got a little nervous when she was in front of a camera, it was ironic that her whole career was built on cameras and other people.

"okay yn you ready?"

she cleared her throat as silently as she could, "yes."

"great. three... two... start!"

yn had to do something for her intro before talking. she decided on a simple wave, as her fans talked about how cute she looks while waving. she decided to play it safe.

"state your age and name please."

"lee yn. nineteen."

"nice to meet you yn. first we will explain the details and the rules of the game to you. is there anything you'd like to ask?"

she shook her head.

"great. so this game..."

they had explained everything thoroughly before she even signed the contract to agree to play the game so she knew what they were talking about. deciding to tune the mc out, yn nodded here and there letting the man know that she was listening. i mean she wasn't but... whatever.

"so yn, what do you think about the game overall?"

she'd tried to come up with something cheeky to say but she couldn't find anything. but she hoped it wouldn't matter how much fanservice she did right now because the game was full of fanservice anyway.

"i think it's great! i've never seen something like this before so i'm exited. i'm also very happy to meet new people!"

well she didn't lie that much this time, she really was excited. she was also nervous but no one had to know about that part. i mean if she even said it no one would care, and her fans would probably try to look into it and come up with crazy theories. god, she really didn't want to deal with that.

when the shooting was over they let her sit around for a little bit before getting her into the car that would take her to the house she would be staying at. she liked car rides, minus the part where she would get carsick. she usually preferred sleeping through the rides but she had to talk to a camera this time. it was okay i guess, she just felt weird talking to a camera all by herself.

"hey guys," yn smiled, a little shy, "did you miss my pretty face? i'm kidding, or am i?"

she continued to talk for five minutes before stopping the video and closing her eyes, hoping to get some sleep before a tiring day.

after a while, yn opened her eyes. coincidentally they had just parked the car and opened her door for her to get out. after stepping out of the car she looked at the building in front of her in awe. she hadn't expected it to be this big but it made sense, since there would be seven other people staying in there.

after going inside and looking at the rooms yn was told to sit down at the table that they temporarily put inside of the living room. after she sat down, they quickly started recording.

"okay so, you're going to choose someone after reading these papers and that'll be your partner from now on, so choose wisely."

"oh this is interesting..."

she started to read slowly, sometimes raising an eyebrow or two, sometimes smiling. she'd read all four papers when she picked the third one.

"this," she showed her paper to the camera "is my partner."

"okay," said the main mc "can you tell us what made you choose that person?"

"um... the fact that she can speak three languages is pretty cool. and it says here that she likes eating ice cream in winter and wearing mostly black clothes. we have those in common."

"okay great. thank you yn."

she smiled and nodded, slowly getting up from her seat and going over to one of the rooms. she laid on one side of the bed and slowly drifted to sleep. an hour later a staff member woke her up, telling her that she had to get a few photos taken. yn nodded and followed the staff out of the room.

after the shooting, she realized she had to eat or else she would be too hungry to sleep after. she opted for ramen, a quick and easy dish, also quite tasty for a packaged food.

as she was eating she began to wonder who her partner would be and what games they would play. she hoped it wasn't someone mean, she really didn't have the energy to deal with a mean person especially for a long time.

she sighed and decided to stop thinking. she didn't want to ruin the surprise by trying to guess who she'd be staying with anyway.

taglist— @saysirhc

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 25

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: it's time for a training montage! minor injury, guns briefly mentioned wc: 2.1k

Chapter Selection

“I can’t believe we’re doing this…” Jason grumbled softly, starting his bike.

“I told you; you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Bruce said he'd send a car for me.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, gently squeezing.

“Absolutely not. If you’re joining Thursday training sessions, I’m going with you.” We flew down the street, Jason’s voice continuing in the speaker in my helmet; “I just don’t understand why you want to do this at all…”

“Training with more people will give me a more well-rounded experience. And while you are a very good teacher, you’re also my boyfriend. Somehow I feel like Bruce will be a harsher critic of my abilities.”

“And that’s a good thing??” He took a sharp turn toward the wealthy side of town.

“When we’re talking about possible life and death situations, yes. And I don’t really want you to have to be harsh with me, so why don’t we make that Bruce’s responsibility, since that relationship is already tense anyway?”

Jason sighed softly, gently squeezing my hands. “... I guess. … He can be a … tough teacher though. If he’s too hard on you, you don’t have to take it.”

“I know, baby. And he knows I’m not looking to be added to the patrol schedule, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Jason grumbled more, but continued driving to Wayne Manor. We parked in a large garage, and he led me to an elevator. After pressing several buttons we were headed down to the Batcave, where the entire Wayne family met us.

Damian spied us first, walking over. “Sister?”

“Hey kiddo! You gonna help train me?” I grinned, holding my hand out to him. He hesitantly squeezed my hand once, dropping it quickly.

“... I thought Father was attempting to make a joke when he said you were joining our training sessions…” he frowned deeply.

“Nope, no joke. … Is that a problem?” I raised an eyebrow.

“... I suppose not. … You will spar with me.” He gestured for me to follow him toward some mats.

Jason cried after us; “hey! Be gentle, demon brat. She's still new to this stuff.”

“I am not a fool, Todd. I am not expecting her to be a black belt.” Damian nodded; “stretches first.”

I took a seat and pulled my shoes off before stepping onto the mat, doing our usual pre-workout stretches. Eventually Bruce came over, watching us with vague interest on his face. “Alright, let's see what we have to work with.”

I nodded, and Damian and I put on some padding. We bowed to each other, and began. He started out slowly, letting me get in the flow of things. The others watched, periodically calling out instructions and encouragements. After a while I caught a glimpse of Jason in the corner of my eye, chewing on his lip, and Damian took that moment to sweep my leg out from under me.

“Oof!” I grunted softly as I landed on my back, blinking a bit.

“Don't get distracted. Your opponent will use that moment to their advantage.”

I nodded, accepting Damian's offered hand to get back up. “Go again?”

He nodded, and we went again, and again, and again. Every time, I ended up on my back, and he had another note for me. “Don't watch my face, watch my shoulders.” “If you aren't willing to hurt me, you will never win.” “Follow through, or none of this will matter.” “Focus on your footing; you're off balance.” “Breath with your attacks.”

Eventually, Jason stepped forward. “That's enough, take five.”

I nodded, letting him help me up, and bowed to Damian again. “Thanks for training me, Damian.”

He nodded, smiling a little, and bowed back. “You're not entirely hopeless, considering you're a civilian. If you take this seriously, you'll be a proper martial artist in no time.”

I grinned, nodding, and Jason led me to the side, getting me some water. “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine, baby! Damian is an excellent sparring partner.”

He frowned a bit, massaging my shoulders. “I dunno, some of those throws were unnecessarily rough…”

“Jace, do you think the next mugger I run into is going to be more gentle with me than that?”

He sighed, kissing my neck. “... No. … I just don't like watching you get knocked around.”

“I know, you're so protective of me~ it's sweet, but we gotta power through this part so I can get good.”

He sighed, holding me close. We watched the others pair up for more intensive sparring practices, and Bruce came over. “You did well out there. I want you to work on your balance for a while, Jason can walk you through that. And you should do at least an hour a day of simple exercises; stretching, strength training, and balance training.”

I nodded. “Got it. Thanks Bruce…”

He nodded, pointing out the equipment he recommended I use today, and went back to observing the others. Jason eventually led me over to the equipment, and we started working on my balance.

After weeks of gym days with Jason and BatFam training sessions, I really expected to see myself slimming down a bit. But when I looked in the mirror, I was still soft and curvy. My arm and leg muscles were more pronounced, and I was certain my core muscles were getting stronger too, but my tummy was still round and squishy. It didn't bother me, and Jason seemed rather pleased to not be losing my softness; he tended to nuzzle against my chest and stomach at night, like a big cuddly teddy bear.

Seeing my training progress wasn't making him any less protective either; every time I stepped onto the mat with one of his siblings I could hear him growling at them. It didn't deter Damian, or the girls, but Dick and Tim were particularly hesitant to give me a proper training session. They mostly stuck to helping me with warm ups, and shouting suggestions from the sidelines.

All of the bats were master martial artists, but each had their own preferred fighting styles. Damian taught me to fake out my opponent, and had a proclivity for taking out the leg. Stephanie preferred to mix up her fighting style, keeping her opponents off guard. Cass taught me to anticipate an opponent's moves, watching for the slightest movements that might tell me how to take them down. When Dick and I sparred, he mostly stuck to the basics, not wanting to risk injuring me in front of Jason. Tim mostly helped me work on my blocks and defensive strategy. Bruce stuck to observing and instructing, never actually entering the ring with me. And with the lot of them training me in various martial arts, Jason turned our gym days into gym-and-range days; we would do some stretches and basic core-building, and then we went to the shooting range to work on my aim.

One day before training, Damian had me kneel. Once I was on my knees, he held out a yellow sash with little black bats on it, saying something in a language I didn't know.

I took it, smiling softly; “what's this?”

“Your yellow bat-belt. You've leveled up in your training. Put it on.”

I grinned, nodding, and tied it around my waist; “yes, Sensei.”

Damian smiled at that, nodding once. Once he was happy with how the belt was tied, he led me to the mats for our sparring session. Tim snorted softly, watching from the side.

“What's with the belt? You know the mish-mash of martial arts she's learning wouldn't count at a proper school, right?”

Damian glowered at him; “she has leveled up in the School of the Bat. That is what matters here.”

“Well how come the rest of us don't get bat-belts then?” Tim smirked a bit; “you gotta make them for everyone, Damian!”

“You would not like a physical indicator of what level I deem you to be at, Drake.” Damian smirked at his indignant noises, and turned to me. We bowed and started our sparring session.

In our fourth spar of the day, I landed my first ever hit. One second Damian was in front of me, fists up, and the next he was sprawled out on the floor in front of me, looking up at me in shock.

“Oh my god, Damian! Are you ok??” I fell to my knees next to him as he sat up slowly.

“... I'm fine. … Well done, sister.” He smirked a bit; “now do it again.”

I could hear the smirk in Jason's voice as he called out; “way to go, babe! Kick the demon brat's ass!”

“Language.” Bruce frowned at him, and I helped Damian up.

“Sorry, B. Let's try that again,” he cleared his throat, putting on the most happy-go-lucky voice he could manage; “holy guacamole, bat-babe! Gee golly, can ya do it again, pretty girl?” 

Dick wrinkled his nose, groaning softly. “Dear god, I forgot you used to talk like that. Never do that again.”

“Agreed.” I laughed softly, sticking my tongue out at him; “that was horrible!”

He chuckled, winking at me. Damian frowned, snapping at us; “Enough! No flirting during training! Sister, let's go again.”

My head was ringing. Hands grabbed me, and I was carefully brought into a seated position. I blinked slowly, touching the back of my head gently. No blood. That was good…

“-idn't mean to! Fuck!”

“Well you did! So back off, Grayson!” Damian spoke sharply next to me. His small hands held the sides of my face, making me look at him; “... No dilation, that's good.”

I blinked slowly, frowning. “Wha- … what happened?”

Jason held me against his chest, frowning deeply. “You don't remember, baby?”

I started to shake my head, but the pounding in my head put a stop to that. “Ohhh fuck … ow…”

“Shit …” Dick whined softly from somewhere behind Damian. “Shit, I … I'm so sorry! I swear, I didn't mean to!”

“Dick, just shut up.” Jason growled, holding me closer. He carefully lifted me, holding me against his chest as he carried me toward a long bench.

“She's probably got a concussion. Don't let her sleep.” Tim frowned, bringing an ice pack.

Jason took it, carefully pressing it to my head. “Yeah, no shit…”

“What happened?”

“Dick threw you off the mat.” Jason growled softly, holding me close. “You're done for the day. Time to rest.”

“Ugh… ok. … Rest sounds good…” I frowned, closing my eyes.

Dick hesitantly mumbled my name; “I'm so sorry!”

“It's all good, Dick. I'm not dying.” I groaned softly, leaning against Jason.

Jay growled softly. “It's not all good. I told you to be careful. I told you not to hurt her!”

I shushed him softly, leaning in more. “No yelling…”

He sighed softly, kissing my forehead. “Sorry, baby girl…”

Bruce checked my eyes, frowning a bit. “... Nothing else she can do today. Take her home, have her take a few days off.”

Jay grunted his agreement and the next thing I knew, I was in his arms again, being carried to the elevator. Damian ran after us, bringing my bag along. I smiled softly, reaching down to stroke his hair. “Thanks, kiddo…”

He leaned in to my touch for a second before pulling back; “I'll come over tomorrow after school to check on you.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Damian.” He smiled a little at that, setting my bag in the car. Jason got me situated, making sure I was buckled, before getting in and driving me home.

“Fucking Dick…” he grumbled softly.

“Relax, baby. It's just a minor concussion. I'll be fine tomorrow.” I smiled softly, watching the scenery.

“Should never have happened…’’

“It was an accident, they happen. Don't be too harsh with him.” 

He sighed, resting a hand on my knee. “... This ok?”

I smiled softly and nodded, turning toward him; “Yeah, that's ok.”

He smiled a little and gently stroked my knee with his thumb; “when we get in, you're gonna rest on the couch. I'll get you some water, and aspirin, and I'll make something light for dinner.”

“Ok. Thanks, Jay~” I sighed softly, closing my eyes for a second.

“Don't sleep, now. You gotta stay awake for a while.”

“Ok, I'll stay awake.” I slowly opened my eyes, blinking a bit. “... So bright though…”

Jason pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his center console and passed them to me. I grinned, kissing his hand, and put them on. “Much better. … Takin' such good care'a me…”

He chuckled softly. “Anything you need, doll. Always.”

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 5 (part two)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 3.8k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

Years later, you’d still wonder if Topper did it all on purpose. 

When you asked him, he’d just wink and say “bet you’d like to know.” 

As your group walked down the dock towards the rental kiosk, Topper pulled out his phone, grinning down at the screen.

“What’s funny?” Carter tried to read over his shoulder.

“Nothing,” he tucked his phone in his pocket quickly, failing to hide the cheeky look in his eyes, zero poker face. “Kelce is coming.”

The guy Carter had haggled with brought your group over to the three jet skis and gave you a demonstration on how to drive them. You weren’t paying very close attention, more focused on the uneven pairing of the five of you and how to ensure you didn’t end up on the same jet ski as Tom. His rudeness this morning was the final nail in the coffin of your crush.

The guy gave Carter three keys, and you met her eyes, knowing she was thinking the same thing. 

Topper looked at Carter hopefully, his big puppy dog eyes watching her with anticipation. You felt for him, the two of you really weren’t all that different. Sure, he’d gotten to hook up with Carter plenty of times, his crush not totally unrequited, but she’d never given him what he really wanted. At the end of the day, you were just two people who were really good at loving people who didn’t love you back. Still, you knew in your heart of hearts that Carter did love him back, even if she wouldn’t admit it. Maybe you would never get your dream, but you could make sure that two people you cared about got theirs, and that might be the only thing that made this all worth it.

You planned it out quick, knowing Carter was seconds from asking you to ride with her so you wouldn’t be with Tom, and also knowing that what she really wanted was an afternoon alone with Topper.

“I told Kelce I’d ride with him,” you blurted out. 

“Did you?” Carter asked skeptically, trying to figure you out.

“Yeah, I think he’s still worried I’m mad at him,” you made up off the top of your head. “Thought I’d throw him a bone.”

Carter watched you the whole time she boarded the back of Topper’s jet ski, telling him to wait up so they didn’t leave you alone. Tom and Sabrina didn’t seem to care about leaving you, speeding off the second they climbed on their jet ski, Sabrina’s over-the-top shrieks echoing through the air.

“That bother you?” Topper asked when he caught you scowling in their direction.

“Actually, I’m thinking they might be made for each other,” you concluded.

“So you’re not, like, into him?” Topper asked hopefully.

“Not anymore. That ship sailed so quick,” you snorted.

“Ah,” he tried to play it cool, “good to know.” 

“Don’t get any fucking ideas,” Carter warned him.

“I didn’t say anything!” He insisted.

“You don’t have to, you have zero poker face,” Carter said. “No Tom does not equal yes Rafe.”

“I’m just saying it’s good to know. Am I not allowed to know things?” 

You rolled your eyes at their bickering, less than surprised they were having this conversation right in front of you.

“Y’know, you guys can just take off, I’ll be fine waiting for Kelce,” you offered, desperate to move this conversation about your love life out to sea and away from you.

“Right, Kelce,” Topper nodded. “Kelce is coming.”

“Why are you being so weird?!” Carter squinted at him.

“I’m not! I just wanna go!” Topper revved the engine of the jet ski.

Carter looked at you one more time, checking that you were okay with this.

“Have fun!” You said to reassure her.

That’s all Topper needed to hear, he hit the throttle and pulled away from the dock as fast as he could. Carter’s laughter filled the air, she grabbed him tight and tucked her chin in the crook of his shoulder as he drove. She was happy, so you were happy. Your whole life, that’s really all it took, and you knew she felt the same way about you.

With that lovely thought, you climbed on the jet ski so you’d be ready to go as soon as Kelce arrived. 

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Rafe held the keys a little too tight, Kelce struggling to pry them from his hands.

“You gotta take it easy on the clutch, she’s sensitive.”

“I know how to drive, man,” Kelce wriggled the keys from his grip as he climbed into the driver’s seat of Rafe’s truck.

Rafe stalled by the door for a minute, his feet suddenly feeling very heavy. He looked around the marina, scanning for the group. His heart skipped a beat when he found only you, bobbing in the water on your jet ski all alone.

He’d texted Topper a head’s up that he was coming and asked him to let you know. He didn’t want you to think he was in on Topper’s dumbass scheme to get you two together. If he was gonna do this he was gonna do it right, not try to trick you into it.

Now you were waiting for him, looking so gorgeous with your legs on either side of the seat and your hair blowing gently in the wind. 

Usually, he didn’t call girls beautiful, typically opting for hot, or sometimes pretty if he was drunk. But the only word for you right now, and always, was beautiful.

“You gonna let me leave, man?” Kelce asked, gesturing to Rafe’s hands, still clutching the handle of the door.

“Yeah, sorry,” Rafe pulled away, wiping his hand against his board shorts when he realized it was clammy, the sight of you making him nervous in a way he had never been before.

“What’s got you so worried? Are you scared of her or something?” Kelce mocked him.

Rafe was surprised that Kelce had actually caught on to who he was looking at, giving him an annoyed eye roll.

“I’m not scared of her,” he defended himself.

“Don’t even worry about it man, I bet she’s still wrapped around your finger.”

Rafe shot Kelce a steely warning look he’d given him a thousand times.

“I’m just saying, you don’t need to worry,” Kelce explained. “You’re the man.”

Kelce was an idiot, and he spent a good ninety percent of their friendship pissing Rafe off, but he always tried to hype Rafe up. Usually he was annoyed by it, but right now, he actually needed it.

You used to talk about him that way, too. Oh, the money he would pay for you to see him in a good light again. He’d swim across this entire bay just to hear one kind word about him coming from your lips. 

“Nah, I’m really not,” he shook his head slightly, looking back toward you. “But I think with her I could be.”

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The audacity, the fucking nerve of him to come strolling down the dock looking that good. The sun actually broke through the crowds at his arrival, like he’d bribed the gods. He strolled towards you so casually, his grin easy, like he didn’t know he was the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life. It pissed you off.

“What are you doing here?” You snapped at him when he reached you.

His grin faltered, like he was the one surprised to see you.

“Didn’t Topper tell you I was coming?” He asked.

“No, of course he didn’t,” you said, finally understanding the reason for Topper’s strangeness earlier.

“I asked him to,” Rafe swore. “I didn’t want to make you think I was trying to-”

“I think I’m just gonna go alone,” you cut him off, turning the key in the engine of the jet ski, desperate to put an ocean between you and him before he said another considerate thing that he’d just undo later. “You can rent your own.”

“No can do,” said the owner, arriving to hand Rafe a lifejacket. “This is our last one. You better take your boyfriend with you, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes at the situation and the misogynistic comment. 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you mumbled. 

Rafe felt the correction was unnecessary, but you didn’t seem to be in the mood for constructive feedback at the moment.

“Is it cool if I, uh, can I come with you?” He wasn’t walking back down this dock without trying.

“Fine,” you agreed reluctantly. “But I’m driving.”

“Good with me,” he climbed on quickly before you could change your mind.

With a kick that sent you both lurching forward, the jet ski roared as you tightened your hand on the throttle. Instinctually, Rafe’s hands landed on your side, holding you both in place. You only had a second to feel the pads of his fingers clinging to the soft skin of your waist before he pulled them away.

“Shit, sorry,” he said.

The guy on the dock leaned forward to push the jet ski from the dock, redirecting you out toward the bay.

“No, actually you should hold on,” he instructed. “These babies go fast and it’s a little choppy out there today. Take it real easy out of the marina and then you can kick it up when you’re in open water.”

You could feel Rafe’s hands twitch with hesitancy before they rested on your sides again, so lightly you wondered if he was actually touching you at all.

With a push, you drifted out to sea, slowly picking up speed with the turn of the throttle.

“Do you want me to let go?” He asked, leaning in so you could hear him over the roar of the motor.

Somehow, you thought two completely conflicting thoughts at the exact same time:

Yes, now.

and

No, never.

You settled on, “whatever.”

Rafe started to let go, but the jet ski hit the wake of a nearby boat, and you both nearly flew off the seat. His grip tightened protectively, practically pinning your body down. With his strong hands on you so firmly, it felt like you could hit a tidal wave and he’d still have you in his grasp. You needed more of whatever that was.

Your laughter filled the salty air as you purposefully drove you and Rafe over the choppiest patches of the water, hair whipping behind you into his face, and he didn’t even care. He watched you in the side view mirror on the front of the jet ski, memorizing every inch of your smile like he’d never see it again.

“Jesus, are you trying to kill us?” He teased, yelling over the woosh of the wind.

“It’d be a fun way to go!” You yelled back, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

Rafe’s hands still on your waist, you felt him lean in slightly. Even with two lifejackets between you, the proximity of your bodies was electrifying. You could feel his strong thighs on either side of your hips, closing you in everytime you hit a bump, securing you in place. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose or if it was just his instinct, you didn’t know which was hotter.

The water rushed behind you, a foamy wake marking your path as you continued driving as fast as you could. The others must’ve gone a different way out of the marina, because they were nowhere in sight. The sky was darkening slightly, the shift in weather causing most boats to drive the opposite way, back to the docks. But you just kept going, and Rafe didn’t tell you to turn around, both drunk on the adrenaline of the speed and the feeling of each other’s skin.

After a particularly jostling bump, the engine sputtered slightly.

“Fuck, what was that?” You puzzled, turning the throttle harder but gaining no speed.

“Here, you gotta twist it like this,” Rafe’s arms wrapped around you, his hands covering yours as he guided you to turn the throttle in the exact way you just were.

“That’s exactly what I was doing,” you bickered. “It’s not working.”

“Maybe I should drive?”

“It’s not my driving, something’s wrong with the jet ski,” you argued, swatting his hands away. 

“Can you just let me try?” He argued back.

“No, you’re making it worse!” 

The engine continued to sputter until it cut completely, causing both your bodies to lunge forward as it came to an abrupt halt.

“Rafe what did you do?” You accused him.

“What did I do? You wouldn’t even let me touch it!” He snapped.

You turned the key in the ignition over and over. The jet ski growled a few times but never started back up. Eventually, you gave up with a frustrated huff.

“I think we’re out of gas,” you conceded.

“Well, did you ask the guy if it was filled before you left?” Rafe questioned.

“Oh, so now this is my fault?” You craned your neck to see him, anger in your eyes.

“No, that’s not-”

“I’m so tired of this, Rafe.”

“We’ve only been out here for like a minute.”

“No, not this,” you motioned toward the water, “this,” you motioned between you and him.

“Oh. Me?” He tried and failed to hide his hurt feelings.

“Not you, just, all this back and forth. One second we’re having a good time and the next you’re pulling away or snapping at me. I have fucking whiplash.”

“Are you sure it’s not just from the jet ski?” He attempted a joke, it only half worked.

“How are we gonna get back?” You redirected the conversation before he could see you were smirking.

“A boat will come by,” he said confidently. “We’ll be fine.”

No boats came by in the following minute, or the following five. You sat in tense silence, your previous words still hanging between you. Your head hurt from the wind and trying to figure this man out.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, almost inaudible. “I know I’m…difficult.”

You turned your neck, not quite far enough to see him, but enough to let him know you were listening, that he should go on.

“I don’t know how to act around you,” he admitted. “One second I feel like I’ve fucked it up so bad that there’s not even a point in trying to fix it and the next…”

This time, you do turn, twisting your torso so you could look him intently in the eyes, imploring him to say something right for once, begging him not to let you fall off this cliff alone again.

“…you look at me like that,” he almost whispered. “And then I think fuck it, I’d try forever if you let me.”

For the first time ever, he was with you on the way down, finally jumping together.

“Can I?” He asked, voice low.

“Can you what?” you blinked at him slowly, the moment so surreal you worried it wasn’t happening, that you’d wake up in Carter’s bed, all of this day just one long fever dream.

“Fix things…with you?”

“I don’t know.”

It was the most honest answer you could give him.

“Can I try?” His voice broke slightly when he said it, and you could feel the vulnerability leaking through the cracks.

“Yeah,” you gave in.

“I miss you,” he breathed, and your heart felt heavy with longing and resentment at the same time.

“I don’t think you ever really knew me, Rafe,” you said, turning to face forward again, sad eyes scanning the horizon. “You never paid close enough attention.”

He thought over your words, and you could feel that there was something brewing in his mind, a decision he was making. When he finally spoke again, it wasn’t the words you expected.

“What’s your favorite color?”

You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as you said, “huh?”

“Just tell me,” he smiled back, even though you weren’t looking, you could hear it in his voice.

You answered him, and he followed that question up with another, and another, and they kept rolling off his tongue and you kept answering, until the strangeness of it faded and the two of you were just talking.

For over an hour, you drifted, leaning forward on the handlebars with your back to him as Rafe asked you questions and listened intently to your long, detailed answers. You were hesitant, just at first. No one had ever let you talk this long without interrupting you. No one had ever wanted so badly to hear what you had to say. He nodded along to everything, responding with thoughtful mhms and carefully worded follow up questions.

After a while, you forgot about the surrealness of it all, where you were, who you were with. It was just you and your old friend, sharing your lives with each other. 

I could do this for a long time, you thought, like maybe forever.

Everytime you thought he must be bored by now, he just kept asking, hanging on every word like he was collecting them for some secret project.

“What do you want to do after you graduate?” and “Who’s your closest friend?” and “Are you still into that one band?” and eventually, when he was running low on ideas, “what’s the last movie you saw?”

You laughed. 

“What?” He asked with a timidness that squeezed your heart.

“The last movie I saw was the last movie you saw,” you reminded him.

“Oh, right,” he chuckled, but there was an edge to it.

“It’s a good movie, though,” you leaned back toward him a little, trying to pull him from whatever thoughts were causing his spirit to fall. “My favorite.”

He nodded, “Tom did a nice job putting together that little shindig.”

“I guess so,” you said, not sure how to proceed.

“You know he plays football for U of F?” He said. “Or did I guess, before he graduated.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, he was All American,” he nodded. You’d give all the money you had for one glimpse of what was going on in his head.

“He’s an impressive guy,” he admitted. “I can see why you’d end up in his room.”

“Rafe, oh my god,” you huffed, standing suddenly. Your body rose above him, his eyes tracking every movement. You swung your leg over the seat, flipping around so you were facing him, sitting back down so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I didn’t sleep in Tom’s room.”

“Oh.”

It was all he could muster up, his throat going dry from both the embarrassment he felt for being wrong and the sudden proximity of your bodies. He willed himself not to let his eyes travel down to the way your lifejacket was pushing your chest together, or the soft skin of your bare thighs, now spread open in front of him as you straddled the seat. He kept his eyes on yours, the most respectful option, though it didn’t help his speechlessness. The uninterrupted contact with your beautiful irises nearly put him over the edge. He almost hoped no boats would come by after all so he could look into your eyes for hours.

“Is that why you got up and left last night?” You questioned, not missing the way his eyes were trained intensely on yours.

“The floor was uncomfortable,” he mumbled.

“The floor,” you nodded, “the floor was uncomfortable. Got it.”

“You're mad at me again,” he surmised.

“When was I ever not mad at you?” 

“I dunno,” he shrugged sarcastically, “somewhere between the movie and your panties hitting the floor.”

You wanted to slap him. And kiss him. He could tell, teasing you with a sideways smirk. You tried to channel the newfound confidence you’d had last night, addicted to the taste of power.

You leaned forward, hands on the leather seat between you, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

“Did you like that?” 

“You know I did.” 

He responded so fast and his voice was so low you couldn’t tell if he was pissed off or turned on. Either way, he wasn’t fucking around anymore.

“Then why didn’t you stay?” 

It felt like that one question held so many questions, and based on the look on his face, you knew he could hear it too. You weren’t just asking about last night, you weren’t just asking why he went to sleep on the couch. You were asking about years of him coming up short, why he’d failed you so many times, why he never, ever seemed to pick you.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

As he said it, the wind kicked up, and the jet ski began to rock even harder as waves rose and fell beneath you. One particularly choppy wave had you tilting a little too far off the seat, and Rafe’s hands landed on your waist again. This time, there was nothing hesitant about it. When you didn’t push him away, his thumb brushed an experimental circle into your skin.

“Do you want me to let go?”

In lieu of answering, your hands came to rest over his. He assumed you were gonna pull them off of you, and for a moment you thought you might too, but then his words echoed in your mind: he didn’t know you wanted him to.

You could do this. You could lean into it and just let it happen. You were supposed to fight it, make him grovel more, make him pay you back for the years you’d waited. It’s what everyone expected. You were only a few hundred yards off shore, but the rest of the world felt lightyears away, and out here, there was nothing stopping you letting him touch you, kiss you, have you. You could just let it happen, and no one would have to know.

But before you could decide if you wanted to, a deep rumble of thunder broke out across the sky.

“Shit,” you jumped. 

“We gotta get out of here,” Rafe looked up at the darkening sky nervously.

“But how?” 

“How well can you swim?”

That’s how Rafe ended up in the water, gripping the back of the jet ski as the waves rocked it harshly, water splashing up and landing on your feet. You tightened your lifejacket, feeling apprehensive about the whole thing.

“I can just push us if you want to stay on,” Rafe offered.

“No, it’ll go faster if it’s both of us.”

You stepped to the edge, hesitating, wanting to rip the bandaid and just jump in but not wanting to jump too far off and get separated. Your indecision cost you, your foot slipped and you dropped into the water, your leg scraping against the edge of the jet ski as you fell. 

Blinded by pain, you reached for Rafe as your head slipped under the surface, but your hands came up empty.

(Chapter 6: part one)

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a/n: please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

[giuliettagaltieri]

Cry of Outrage

Pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x First Lady!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The Saviour

Warning: elitism, vulnerability, violence, injury, blood

Word Count: 2748

5 of 6

Y/N Swansworth-Snow.

The first thing that Coriolanus did when he became President was to give you his last name.  You, his ally, his accomplice, and now, his First Lady.

The entirety of Panem celebrated with you.  No, not just the Capitol.  All the other Districts fell in love with the two of you.  Having been blinded by your tour that was so successful, it ruined any doubts they had for the new President.

And to make it even better, the ruse between you and Coriolanus gave way for true affections to blossom.

But having the love of the said President does not mean that your marriage will be anything similar to a typical couple.  You are the leaders of Panem after all.

Most of your day is taken up by meeting other politicians and studying bills to further strengthen the Capitol and subdue thoughts of rebellions from the Districts.

Your evenings are also spent attending the invitations of your supporters.

“Heavens!  The party is in five hours and I have absolutely nothing to wear.”  You groan in your seat as Coriolanus chuckles as he taps at the steering wheel.

This was one thing that he requested for the both of you.  No chauffeurs.  Not that your security is at risk when you are sandwiched between two cars loaded with the presidential guards.

The two of you had been spending your luncheon with the Plinths.  Had it not been for your assistants reminding you of a party this evening, you would have forgotten.

“You should wear that gold dress I bought you last month.”  He hums.

“The one with actual gold in it?”  You frown.  “We are only meeting the District 1 representatives, is it necessary to wear such a pretty gown?”

You stop at the red traffic light and Coriolanus turns to you, his knuckle brushing your cheek.  “You’re not wearing it for them, my love.”  His voice is calm but there was something about him that made you feel like he was scolding you.  Of course, you try your best to keep a straight face but the way you fiddled with your seatbelt did not go unnoticed by him.  “You will be wearing it for me.  Always for me.  Understand?”

You nod at him.

“Words.”

“Yes, Corio.  I understand.”

Ever since you got married, you have somewhat changed.  You are still the same calculating Y/N Swansworth, but you are more docile, easily flustered, almost shy.

“Mmh, there’s a good girl.”

His thumb caresses your cheek before focusing back on the road.

Coriolanus Snow takes pleasure in his discovery of this attitude from you.  How you are the commanding First Lady in the public, and a sweet little wife to him when he has you all to himself.  You did not grow out of that crush you had for him, it seems.  You got better at hiding it while he was away, but in the end, you were still his, body and soul.

As you get ready in your vanity that night, your eyes scan the files of the guests that will be attending the party as you add the pigeon blood ruby earrings in your ears.

“Darling, my tie, have you seen it?”  Coriolanus calls as he comes out of your shared closet.  His dark red suit compliments your golden gown. 

“In here.”  You reply as you hurriedly put on the other pair of earrings.

You walk over to him to fix his golden tie for him.

He checks his appearance and his hand snakes to the small of your back.  “You look ravishing.”  He pecks your exposed shoulder.  He knows better than to ruin your lipstick.  He will never hear the end of it.

“You are looking pretty sharp, yourself.”  You say as you look at him proudly.  This fine gentleman, one ever so sought after, once the prime bachelor of Panem, is your husband.

Not everybody understands that.

And it infuriates you to no end.  But jealousy can come later, in the present, you must focus on your task at hand.

As you enter the party together, you both agree on a strategy, to part ways and conquer them one by one.

“My brother is likely the one who will follow my father’s footsteps.”  Says the official from District 1.  His suit is a fine one, the best quality.  But the clothing’s value can easily be overlooked by how the wearer parades in it.  “He was always the favorite.”

You look at him in well-practiced sympathy.  “I am terribly sorry.  Here, have a glass of water.”  You snatch one from the passing server to hand it to him.  He has had enough alcohol for tonight.

He gulps it quickly and he nastily wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his beige suit, ruining it with a wet stain, you try to conceal your disgust.

“Phah!”  He spits.  “As if my brother is any good.  He is always at his shooting range with his buddies.  Always buying guns and losing them!”  The man continues to ramble and you sip quietly from your flute.  “I am really grateful that you are keeping me company tonight, Madame First Lady.”  He suddenly grabs at your wrist, his thumb caressing your skin.  Apparently, not grateful enough to observe boundaries.

You smile kindly as you place your other hand atop his.  “No worries, it is my pleasure to be of some service to the people of Panem.”  You gently remove his hand from yours.

He groans, throwing his head back.  “You are a goddess, Madame First Lady.”

“And you are drunk, Mister Sterling.”  You comment as you sip on your champagne once more, eyes scanning the party for whom you shall extract information next.  But your eyes met his.

Coriolanus had his eyes on you the entire time.  He was in a small group of men, all who were talking animatedly.  Coriolanus throws in his inputs in the conversation but his eyes never stray away from you.  He does not look too pleased.

You struggle to look away from him, and you discreetly attempt to swallow the lump in your throat.

“My apologies, you will have to excuse me.”  You smile at Sterling and before he can respond, you are already on your feet, gliding smoothly away in utmost elegance, definitely not scurrying.

You make it to the powder room, nobody suspects you of running away when you look as if you own the place.  But Coriolanus knows better.  He also excuses himself from the other men and follows quickly after you.

He smiles at the people he passes but he is determined to get to where you would be right now.

And there you were, twirling in front of the tall mirror of the bathroom.  It appears like the First Lady of Panem is checking herself out.  Coriolanus leans by the door to enjoy the show, a sly little smirk on his lips.

You slide down your hands on your waist and you turn to observe the curve of your behind and nod.  You then get closer to see your make up in a closer angle, watching for anything that is not in place.

“I was going to wait for you to finish but I cannot keep myself away for much longer.”  His smooth voice echoes around the empty powder room.

The look of surprise on your face brought strange satisfaction to him.

Coriolanus stands behind you and looks at you in the mirror.  His eyes shamelessly roam over your body, and by God! The dress really does suit you.

“You should let me choose your dresses more often.”  He spoke silently and you chuckled at that.

“Do you find me pretty, wearing your gifts, Mister President?”  You tease as you fix your hair.

Nodding, Coriolanus hooks an arm around your midriff to pull you flush against him.  “Prettiest.”  He groans against your nape, his hot breath sending you to a fit of giggles.  “And you’re not leaving my side for the rest of the night, you understand?”

You lean against his sturdy chest and nod like the obedient girl that you are.  “I have a lot of bad news for you, Corio.”

His brows pinched but he didn't let it disturb him from tasting your skin.  Leaving a hot wet trail in his wake.

“Rebels?”  He asks breathily.

Your breath hitches when he gently nips on your ear.  “Might be.  I’m suspecting smuggling of firearms.  I will have my men investigate it first thing tomorrow.”

He hums in approval.  “What would I do without you, wife?”

Your ego is stroked with his words and you can’t help the smile on your lips.  “You would be helpless without me.”

It is a dangerous thing to say to a man like Coriolanus Snow.  Provoking him and threatening his status with words will not end well.  Unless it is you.

“I would crumble, wife.”  He groans to your skin and pulls you closer.  “I would be reduced to nothing.”

When Coriolanus speaks like this, he just manages to sink himself deeper into your heart.

“Good.”  You smile.  “Because I desire you just as fiercely.”  You place a hand on his bicep and you rest your head on his shoulder to press a kiss on his neck.  “You have a speech to make.” 

Coriolanus sighs.  “Just a bit longer.”

You indulge him, tracing patterns on his cheek as he inhales your scent.

Had it not been for a knock on the door, Coriolanus would have held you there forever.

He takes your hand and guides you on stage with him, his darling wife.

The music fades to a gentle melody and the crowd hushes to listen to the speech the President is about to make.

“Our gathering today is not just an event, it is a celebration of collaboration, shared goals, and the strength that comes from unity.”  Coriolanus starts and you position yourself behind him with the kindest smile you can muster.  “I am deeply honored to stand before a group of individuals who bring diverse perspectives, talents, and experiences.” 

A man shakes his head in the corner and you watch him closely.  He seems agitated, his movement jerking as he scratches at his neck, making the skin raw.  He does not look familiar.  He is not in the files you had.

“Your presence here is a testament to the power of coming together, the power of dialogue, and the power of collective effort.”  You step closer to Coriolanus when the man leaves his chair.  The peacekeepers slowly march closer to the man who glares hard at your husband.  “In this room, we have a wealth of knowledge, creativity, and passion that, when harnessed, can propel us to achieve great things.”  A glint from the man’s coat has you tugging Coriolnus behind you by his suit.

A resounding bang fills the air and your body freezes.

It’s wet, you feel the wetness seep your dress and you look down to see a spreading stain of crimson in your side.

Oh…the bullet did not hit Coriolanus.  That’s good.

Screaming rings in the air and it is getting more and more difficult for you to stand.  You feel Coriolanus’ warm hands around you, but your eyes return to the shooter.  Has he been apprehended?  Is your husband still in danger?

“Corio…”  You whimper.  “It’s not safe for you.”

He grits his teeth as he pulls at his tie to wrap it in his fist to press into your wound.  The pressure had you whimpering, clawing unto his sleeve.

“I’m sorry.”  He whispered against your temple.  “You’re gonna be alright.”

You try to laugh but it comes out as a wheeze.  “Of course, I would.”

You are in the arms of the most powerful man in Panem.  No place else is safer.

The noise slowly gets muffled, something akin to your head descending underwater.  The lights blur and the colors mix together.  You blink multiple times just so your husband would come to focus, but your eyelids get heavier and heavier.

He was the last thing you saw before your eyes closed.

“Your daughter seems to have taken a fancy to my son.”

A loud boisterous laughter echoes.  “Nothing but a harmless fascination.”

“The two of them would make a good couple, don’t you agree?”

“That is if they don’t destroy each other first.”

Coriolanus wakes from his slumber in cold sweat.  He runs a hand on his platinum hair, feeling its dampness.  His chest heaves, breathing labored.

What a nightmare to have at a time like this.  His pale eyes search the darkness and he spots you in your marital bed.  He leaves the chaise lounge to walk over to you.  You have been asleep for a day now, recovering after the bullet misses anything fatal.  The events last night shocked him to his core.  He had never been more afraid.  Not even when he saw the dead being hacked to pieces in the dark days.  Or when the arena was bombed when he first mentored, and definitely not when Lucy Gray set off a snake to him.

When he saw you bleed.  It unraveled all there was in him.  His gut twisting, his mind in shambles.  He was angry and afraid.  And the self-loathing that came afterwards was almost unbearable.  That bullet was for him to take, not you.

Coriolanus watches the steady rise and fall of your chest.  It brings him peace to see you still breathing.  Gently, he lies next to you but he was afraid he’d hurt you so he scoots lower until he faces your bandaged abdomen.  He lies curled by your side and he reaches for your hand.

It’s warm, you are with him.  His lips press on your pulse, you are with him.

A lone tear slides to his temple and the sheets greedily soak it in.  It was one of many that he shed for you while you were asleep.

A deep shuddering breath has him sitting up.  Coriolanus observes your face closely. 

“Corio?”

“I’m here, my love.”  He rushes to you and he smiles painfully when you open your eyes.

“Are you hurt?”  You ask worriedly and he almost laughs had his heart not been teared open.

He shakes his head.  “No, you saved me.”  He presses a kiss to your temple.  “You took a bullet for me.”

You grimace.  “How’d he get that gun inside, anyway?”

Coriolanus pursed his lips.  “It was planted in the area prior to the event.”

“Did you find out who he is?”

He nods at you and he pulls you closer.  “From a fallen house here in the Capitol and a servant to the Cranes.  He has more morphine than blood in his veins.  He is being detained now, he will be executed in two days.”

You nod at him.  It all falls into place now.  

Hesitantly, you ask.  “Him and Arachne?”

Coriolanus sighs.  “Or just him.”  Arachne was a true narcissist, she would have never associated with a nobody in such ways.

It is surprising how even after all these years, the ghost of the past can still haunt you.  The visit from the District 1 officials must have triggered such an act.

Love really is the sweetest poison.

“No matter.”  Coriolanus dismisses the topic.  “I refuse to spend another second thinking about a man who dared to hurt my wife.”

You smile as you close your eyes trying to get comfortable in his arms.

“I guess you owe me your life now.  I would expect more pampering as payment.”  You hum and he scoffs.

You ignore the fact that this makes you even after he saved you in District 4.  You will use every opportunity to exploit your dear husband.

“That is what you are concerned with?  You were just shot, wife.”  He spoke unimpressed but you squeezed his hand.

“I’ll get a nasty scar but I’ll live.  His aim was really bad.”

“I most definitely agree.”  Coriolanus nods a small grin in his lips.  “That worked in our favor though.”

It frightened Coriolanus.  The limit to your self sacrifice for him seems to be nonexistent.  He humbles himself and prays to the gods that this will not cause your end. 

You did not question when he pulls you closer.  His behavior is desperate as he burns the feel of your body against him in his head.

You spend the rest of the night talking to him until your eyes turn heavy, your breath syncing together peacefully.

Hunt for Glory

[callsign-mimic]

@charliemwrites went and made a wonderful new OC, who you can read about [here]

So, naturally, I had to write a fic for them :3

Content Warnings: A/B/O (kinda) dynamics, descriptions of violence and drug use, reality adjacent Mimic rather than OC Mimic

A Part of the Pack

Chapter One

It was three in the morning when the shrill ring of the phone woke Mimic from a dead sleep. It wasn’t her cellphone. The ringer on that once never having been on since she got it. No, this was the small flip phone tucked away in the drawer of the nightstand. Never touched, but always charged and on.

Mimic groans, roughly pulling the drawer open, fishing around inside of it, and grabbing the phone.

“I’m retired, Kate.” She practically growls into the receiver.

“Only mostly.” Kate Laswell replies, sounding amused more than anything. Not that she was in any way surprised by Mimic’s less-than-pleased greeting. “The boys have a mission comings up. And they need a thief.”

“I’m not a hobbit, Kate.” Mimic grumbles, sitting up and wiping her sloppily bleached mop of hair out of her face. “Besides, I’m sure you can find someone else to do stealth and retrieval for them.”

“Not on short notice, and definitely not someone who works so well with them. Especially not now that they have an Alpha.” Laswell says. “Price also requested you personally. Besides, you’re definitely small enough to be a hobbit.”

“Remind me to be offended about the hobbit thing later. What do you mean they have an Alpha now?”

“It was high time they got one, and I promise this won’t be like the last time you had to work with an Alpha you didn’t already know.”

“I don’t think I could handle a repeat of having a teammate trying to rip my throat out, no.” Mimic says flatly, pinching the bridge of her nose as the memories flash through her barely awake mind. Monroe had been an asset to the team, but a drug fueled, pre-rut rage had sent her off the deep end. She had tried to force herself on another Omega, and Mimic had been the one to try and stop her. “I suppose I should collar up, despite my scent being pretty much nonexistent, huh?”

“You don’t have to worry about Saint snorting near lethal amounts of cocaine. And yes, wear your collar, please. The muzzle too, my little bite risk.”

“Monroe deserved it. But since you asked so nicely…”

“That’s my girl.” Laswell says, laughing when she hears Mimic’s poor attempt to cover her soft trill at the praise. “Get packed. I’ll have you picked up within the next two hours.”

~*~

All five members of Task Force 141 were waiting on the tarmac when Mimic stepped off the plane. Her pale blue eyes trace over the four familiar men before landing on Saint. The sight of the massive Alpha gives her a moment’s pause, even with them standing at a polite distance from their Omegas. Her nose twitches behind her muzzle as she looks them over quickly, taking in the soft curls in their dark hair, the steely grey eyes over their own muzzle. Christ on a cracker, they’re fuckin huge… Mimic thinks to herself, before Price takes her attention by stepping forward with an outstretched hand.

“Good to see you, Mim.” He says, grabbing her hand and pulling her into a tight hug. “Been too long, actually. Hope your little hidey-hole in the woods has been treating you well.”

Mimic chirps as Price practically crushes her against his broad chest. He turns, leading her to the rest of the team with an arm still wrapped around her shoulders. Soap’s initial grin at her arrival morphs into a snarl as he sees both the muzzle and collar on Mimic.

“Oi! Get that feckin thing off yer face!” He snaps, surging forward. Ghost grabs the collar of his shirt to hold him back and keep him from storming up to her and practically tearing the muzzle off her face.

“It’s just to be proper, Soap. Chill.” Mimic says defensively. The sound of ripping fabric has her climbing Price like a tree to perch precariously on his shoulders and out of reach of the enraged Scotsman. Who seemed more than happy to ruin his own clothes if it meant getting his hands on her. And getting that stupid muzzle off of one of his best friends.

“Fuck proper!” He snarls, his ruined shirt hanging off of him as Ghost wraps a large hand around his arm in an effort to hold him back. “Ain’t right! Not for ye! Yer one o’ us! Ye shouldnae be wearing those!”

Saint catches Soap around his waist, pulling him back and pressing their muzzle into his hair. Mimic can’t hear them speak, though she can just barely register the subharmonic rumble of their voice from their distance. And she notices how Soap immediately relaxes against his Alpha, albeit begrudgingly.

“Come on, pet.” Price says, helping Mimic back to the ground. “Let’s get you settled. It’ll be the usual rotation. You’ll stay in my room tonight.”

Mimic can feel Saint’s eyes on her as she lets Price lead her into the base. Interloper already causing trouble in the pack. Great first impression, dumbass. She thinks bitterly, adjusting her duffel bag on her shoulder as if she was trying the shift the sudden weight of guilt she now carried.

~*~

After Soap had been calmed enough to finally accept the collar and muzzle on Mimic, he waste no time in scenting her. He had her pinned beneath him on the floor of the den, rubbing insistently against the collar covering her scarred scent glands.

“Let the poor girl breathe, Tav.” Gaz says with a chuckle. He was lounging on the couch, watching the two of them with an easy grin. Patiently waiting his turn to do the exact same thing.

“S’been three years.” Soap whines, his stubble rasping against Mimic’s pale cheek as he nuzzles against her face. “She disnnae smell like us anymore. Gotta fix it.”

“Don’t smell like anything anymore…” Mimic says, managing to squirm out from beneath Soap only for Gaz to pounce on her and start scenting her himself.

“Not true, luv.” He purrs, making his own scent mingle with Soap’s on her collar. “It’s still there. Just very faint. Petrichor and oakwood. Perfect for a pretty little woodland cryptid like yourself.”

Saint sits at the far end of the den with Price. Watching as Ghost scoops the small Omega away from Soap and Gaz to add his own scent to her. Providing comfort. Reminding her just how much they cared about her. Showing just how much they missed her.

They cock their head to the side when Mimic mentions not having a scent. A move that Price notices in his periphery as he continues to watch the other four.

“Three years ago, our Mim got into a nasty fight with a pre-rut Alpha named Monroe.” He says, sharp blue eyes watching Mimic’s bright smile behind the cage of her muzzle. “Monroe had tried to force herself on a young private, and Mimic made it a point to get in the way. Monroe tried to rip her throat out for it, but she’s a scrappy wee thing. Put up a hell of a fight, but she was a bloody mess by the time the private had managed to return with help.”

“Where Monroe had tried, Mimic had succeeded.” Price continues, watching Gaz and Soap pile on top of Mimic and Ghost on the couch. He looks up at Saint. “It turned out that Monroe had a nearly lethal amount of cocaine in her system. We’re lucky Mimic didn’t bleed out, because she had ingested enough of Monroe’s blood that the drug was affecting her. She paid for it, though. Her scent glands are damn near nonexistent now. Mostly just scar tissue. And, to my understanding, the trauma done to them had pretty much stopped her heat cycle.” His voice drops, a bitter edge lacing through it. “On top of that, the whole ordeal is why she’s been requested to wear the muzzle. Her price for defending a teammate.”

“She was forced to retire, and labeled a bite risk.” Price’s hands curl into tight fists in his lap. “And what did she do? After all that? She put herself into isolation. Staying cooped up in that tiny cabin in the woods for three years. Completely off the radar. No contact. I’m lucky Laswell had a way to get ahold of her. Mim is a hell of a soldier, and her skill are invaluable. But she’s also an amazing individual. She doesn’t deserve to spend the rest of her life in isolation.”

Saint watches Mimic, just barely able to pick up the sound of her purr as she cuddled with the rest of their pack. She looked content, entirely at peace in the arms of the three larger Omegas. And with the way their pack clearly adored her, Saint wanted to be sure they would be able to protect her during the mission.

When she would be one of Saint’s, if only temporarily.

A part of the pack.

“I need her scent. For the mission.” Saint says, keeping their voice as quiet as possible. Even at this distance, the subharmonic rumble of their vocalization risked upsetting the small Omega. Already skittish around the silent Alpha that dwarfed her. So desperate to show them respect. Show them that she wasn’t a threat. Wasn’t trying to move in on their turf in any way. It was obvious to Saint that the fight with Monroe had damaged more than just Mimic’s scent glands.

“Aye, I suppose you do.” Price says, looking up at his Alpha, dark blue eyes glinting with amusement. “I’ll talk to her about it before bed tonight. She’s a good girl. She’ll work with you, no matter how standoffish she might seem.” He leans into Saint, looking back over at the four individuals piled on the couch. The den filled with the sounds of their contented purrs.

“It’s faint. Barely there, really.” Price murmurs, his heart aching at how small Mimic looks curled up against Ghost’s chest. “But once you know it, you’ll never miss it. She may not think it’s noticeable, but the boys and I could pick her out of a crowd without issue. Even after three years.”

A silent understanding passes between them as Price looks back up at his Alpha, and Saint nods. They had a while before the missions still. Plenty of time to learn Mimic’s scent and make her more comfortable around them.

Unfortunately for Saint, the latter was easier said than done.

[jillsandwhichs]

Distraction

Chapter 5 to Joel Miller x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Joel Miller

Summary: You are cooking dinner for both you and Joel and he cannot keep his hands off of you. He'd rather have dessert before dinner

Status of your guy's relationship: Married

WC: 2.9k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Smut, Breast play/sucking, Making out, Dirty talk, P in V & it's unprotected, Kitchen sex, Praising/Slapping kink, Soft/Dom Joel, He finishes inside of you, Some aftercare

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Your eyes glanced over at the clock hosted up onto the beige wall in your kitchen. It is seven pm-finally. That means Joel will be home soon. On Wednesdays he tends to work overtime and doesn't get home until two hours later than usual. It's frustrating, yes, but it earns him more money and you'll take what you can get.

Before he gets home you'd like to have his dinner close to done. You want to have a plate and beer ready for him so he can just unwind and relax. He works so hard, he deserves it.

You're making a simple dinner tonight-grilled cheese and tomato soup. It won't take to long and it's perfect for the weather outside. That fall breeze and the crisp air pair well with a warm home cooked meal. Plus, Joel could eat damn near five sandwiches and two bowls of soup. That man can pack it. You just wanted to keep it easy tonight, especially since you're already getting fatigued.

Every other light in your home was turned off besides the kitchen & living room light. You had a candle on the coffee table in the rec room and one on the dining table just a few feet behind, both lit. They smell good. One is the scent of cinnamon and the other, the one in the dining room, is the scent of mahogany wood. The day you smelt it in a local city shop, it reminded of you of Joel. Anytime he's off of work, you'll sniff it periodically just to recall his scent-despite the fact you never forget it in the first place. His musk lingers all throughout your guy's home.

Instrumental folk music plays off of the TV. On one of the cable channels, they constantly play music such as this. You often play it when you're home alone so it's not too quiet. Once Joel's home, you turn it down or off completely.

Flipping over one of his grilled cheese's, the sound of the front door opening could be heard. No need to fret, it has to be him. The door has been locked all day and only him & your mother have a secondary key. The door leads into the living room and the kitchen is just across from it-Joel will spot you any second. You continued to focus on his sandwich and soup, wanting to cook and season them well.

Joel took off his work boots and socks, stuffing them into the rugged shoes. His jacket that he wore to and from work was also removed and tossed onto the white couch beside the TV. You saw Joel pick up the black remote to pause the music. He doesn't like it very much, he prefers country or rock. It was when Joel smirked and hummed when he saw you that you smiled as well. "Hey Darlin'." Joel said softly, making his way to you. "Hi baby." You responded, gazing at him before looking back at the meal.

"What're you makin'?" "Grilled cheese's with tomato soup-sound tasty to you?" "Sure does, thank you dear." Joel thanked you. He's always so grateful. Every night, even on weekends, you have dinner prepared for him. Sometimes he cooks for you but it's primarily you. You've never cared, it's a hobby anyways. "Damn, it does smell good." Joel sat down at the dining table, his eyes on your figure as you cooked. "Does it? Good to know." You chuckled, stirring the soup and seasoning it further.

"How was work?" "Normal, the usual. How was your day?" Joel questioned you back. "Also the usual aside from getting a call from my mother. She wants me to visit tomorrow so I can help her with yard work." "I can take the day off to help too." "No need baby." You shook your head. He needs to focus on real work. It's a bit of a pain that your mom needs you tomorrow but you're willing to do whatever for her so at the end of the day, you can't complain.

The food was really coming together. The aroma of the meal filled the kitchen and overall the entire home. You could even hear Joel smelling the air. "I love when you cook for me." He murmured, then stood up. "Well I love cooking for you." You giggled, setting one grilled cheese on the side to begin another. Your breath shuttered as you felt his burly arms wrap around your waist. Joel rested his head on your shoulder. He slowly swayed the two of you side to side. It felt relaxing.

"Missed you so much." Joel groaned, kissing the crease of your neck. You sighed deeply. "I missed you honey." You replied with a loving tone. His large, vein filled hands stroked your lower stomach through your fabricated tank top. "I think about you all day." "Oh yeah?" You giggled again, your eyes closing gently as he kissed up behind your ear. "Smell so good." He groaned, licking your earlobe slightly. You laughed-you are quite ticklish.

You flipped over the grilled cheese and patted it down to the pan. It was now becoming harder to cook with Joel up in your bubble. "My love? Do you want your dinner or no?" You snickered, hitting his thigh playfully with the spatula. "If you're my dinner, yeah I do." You nearly snorted by his corny comment. "Such a man." You murmured, stirring the soup once again and dialing the heat down somewhat. "I can be your dessert." You fed into his silly words. "Mmm." He groaned again, kissing your cheek and down to your neck.

His hands slid up your torso and to your tits where he caressed them and squeezed them. He's like a teenager during their first time-all about the boobs. "Once again, you're such a man." You teased him. You have a feeling you know what's going to happen, as a matter of a fact, it is bound to happen.

He continued to fondle your boobs through your tank top, squeezing them and rubbing them. "My little pretties." Joel kissed your ear. You hummed and nearly moaned once his hands vigorously slid down to your shorts. The shorts you are wearing are a bit loose on you, which gives Joel extremely easy access. You detoured your hands away from the stove, beginning to not really care about the dinner-despite being hungry. But your hunger has also changed it's route because now, you're hungry for him.

Joel's left hand remained on your waist whereas his right went into your shorts and straight into your panties. You seethed in pleasure as one singular finger slipped through your pink folds. You're dampened. "So fuckin' wet and I barley even touched you." Joel whispered in your ear. He ran his finger through your folds a few more times before pulling his hand out. "Let me fuck you," He mumbled, turning you around to face him. "I'll finish dinner once we're done." This man is so convincing. "Deal." You nodded your head eagerly.

You squealed as Joel picked you up into his arms. He brought you over to the wiped down counter and set you down on top of it. This position-oh it makes you cum so fast. You watched with vigor as he tossed his belt onto the ground. While he was messing with his lower half's clothing, you removed your shorts. Joel watched you as you did, his eyes never detaching to look somewhere else. "Beautiful." He put simply as he gazed at you.

You not only removed your shorts, but your shirt and bralette too-leaving you in only your panties. You just cleaned the counters today and they'll be right back to being a mess by the time this is finished with. Through Joel's underwear, you could see how hard he was. You couldn't wait to feel his cock inside of you, deep in you. You're just as horny as he is and yet, it only took him seconds to turn you into this feral animal. "Come here." You whined, holding onto his shoulders as he pressed himself into you. "My impatient girl." He teased, kissing your lips with utter passion.

As he kissed you, it was as if everything else surrounding you dissipated. You cupped his face with your soft hands. His incoming beard was scruffy and hairy, you found yourself running your fingers through it. "I need you." He growled, licking your lower lip. The taste of strawberry banana went into his mouth-it's from your chapstick. "Need you baby." You moaned, opening your mouth just the slightest bit. Joel shoved his tongue into your mouth, sliding it against yours as he pressed his manhood up against you. His hands were still cupping your tits.

Your hand went to the back of his head. You never want him to stop kissing you. Your eyes were closed as he kissed you lovingly. His tongue in your mouth made you even more wet-you need him now.

Joel pulled away and brought his head down to your tits where he then began to suckle on the left one. "Oh God..." You mumbled. Your hand remained on his head. You stroked his hair softly, holding his head against your boob. You felt his tongue flick your nipple and circle all around it. His other hand was pinching your right nipple. You are so sensitive on your breasts-it made you feel overstimulated as he went on. "Jesus." You called out, your head tossing back as he switched to your right breast.

"All mine." Joel said in a husky voice. He slapped your left tit and squeezed it, hard. "Love suckin' em." He added on. His entire mouth was covering it. Your fingers ran through his brown hair. You are obsessed with him, just as he is with you. "Baby." You moaned. "Hmm?" "Please just... Just fuck me." You are desperate. Joel pulled away from your nipple with a smile as he kissed you-it was more of a peck. "Scooch back a bit." He muttered, pulling his boxers down. You listened and giggled.

Your eyes shot down to his dick. It's so big. You need to feel him. His skin against yours, his dick deep in you, his semen filling you up-all of these dirty thoughts keep piling up in your mind.

He took ahold of the base of his cock, pumping it a couple times. His fingers went down to your panties to pull them to the side. He was speechless and breathless. Not only could he feel how wet you are but he can see it too-smell it even. The pheromones and scents you let off make him act like a dog. "So sexy." Joel whispered to you with a snicker. "All for you." You bit your lip. It took you time to get into dirty talking but being married to Joel has definitely lifted your confidence in doing it.

Lining it up with your dripping cunt, Joel, with care, pushed himself into you. You moaned whilst he moved into you. Your forehead was against his shoulder as you caught your breath. "You okay?" "I'm fine." You responded to him. It's been a bit since the two of you fucked. He's so big. He's already stretching your walls and he hasn't even moved yet. He kissed the top of your head and caressed your cheek as he began to move.

His hips started off slow. He understands how you're feeling. Joel will never hurt you. He loves it rough and despite that, he'll go any pace you want him too. "So fuckin' tight." Joel praised you, his hand now resting on your thigh, his other still on your face. Your head remained against his shoulder for a little while longer. "Love how wet you get for me. You're a good girl sweetheart." Joel whispered against your ear before he nibbled on the low part of your lobe. "You deserve to feel good baby." He continued. He's so gentle when he wants to be.

Joel gripped your chin and tilted it up, making you look at him. "Pretty girl." He pressed his forehead against yours as he began to pick up the pace, knowing you could take it good for him.

His hands quickly went to your lower waist as he pulled you forward, making it easier to fuck you. His hands remained on your waist. "Just wanna fill you up, make you feel all warm inside." You moaned at his words and finally moved your hands from his shoulders and to his face once again. He melted at your touch. Your foreheads stayed pressed together. He noticed your whiney face and how worn out you looked just by him dumbing you out on his cock. The way you were gazing at him nearly made him cum right then and there.

"Don't look at me like that, c'mon princess." Joel looked away, continuing to thrust into you. You giggled quietly to yourself. It makes you feel good knowing you can make him finish just by a look. "Look at me handsome." You caressed his chest through his shirt. "I'll cum baby." "I won't look at you like that then." You snickered, bringing your right hand up to his face to pull him back towards you. He chuckled and looked at you. You kept your word. "Harder." You panted. You spread your legs slightly, giving him more room.

His hands went to your thighs. He held onto to them as he began to move roughly in and out of you. Your eyes darted down to your pussy. Watching his member move inside of you was oddly satisfying. He took notice of your peaked interest. "You liking what you're seein'?" He teased, rubbing your warm thighs. "Mhm." You nodded. God, it was kind of hot. "That's how I'm able to make you feel so good-by fucking you like this." He said in a deep voice as his cock moved into you at a rapid pace. "Joel." You whimpered, tossing your head back as his pumps became more messy and uncoordinated.

Joel laughed at the sight of you. You're stunning. The way you unravel around him. It boosts his ego an unnecessary amount. "Keep takin' it beautiful." He hummed. His right hand slid up your body, starting from your thigh and slithering up to your face where he then cupped your cheek and made you look at him once again. Something about staring at each other whilst making love has always been sexy to the two of you. "Wanna see you when you cum." He whispered to you but his manly voice was still evident.

That dark look in his eyes as he watched you made you want to finish on the spot. The look he gives you when he's close is this one to a T.

You moaned softly, almost a whimper even, as he slapped your lower face slightly. He gripped it right afterwards. You remember the time you told Joel you were into it and ever since, it's became apart of your guy's sex life. God, it makes you feel so dirty and you fucking love it. He hit you again but this time kissed your cheek right afterwards. You tittered. "You tell me if I ever really hurt you when doin' that, alright?" "Of course baby." You replied in a low tone. His hips began to pick up speed again, moving more vigorously. "Gonna cum." He grunted, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

You took what he said to heart. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him against you, wanting him to finish inside of you. He groaned against your neck and his grip on your waist got tighter. "Such a good fuckin' girl, feel me fill you up." Were his last words before he then came inside of you.

Your moans filled the air. The feeling of his seed being milked by you inside you was comforting and you seriously needed it.

Soon after, you came as well. As you finished, Joel ran his fingers through your brushed hair and held the back of your neck. "You're squeezin' me darlin'." Joel chuckled, kissing your neck and cheek numerous times. "Mmm." You groaned, bringing your mouth to his. Joel kissed you right back, his thumbs rubbing your waist as he did.

Once the both of you came down from your highs, Joel pulled out. The counter was infact a mess now, along with the floor. You were so soaked that it literally dripped below you. "Dirty girl." Joel murmured to himself when he saw the mess. You chortled and attempted to stand up but were instantly humbled. "Haven't fucked you in a bit, want me to run us a bath baby?" Joel asked you. "What about dinner?" "We can eat afterwards." "Okay." He's so caring.

Joel walked back over to you and lifted you up into his arms gently. "You feel okay? Did it feel good?" He spoke as he carried you to your guy's master bathroom. "I'm okay and it felt great. Was it good for you?" "Always is babygirl." Joel patted your bum, earning a squeak from you.

You won't even be surprised if a round two occurs tonight.

[solar4seekstron]

Before and So Forth Chapter Four: Starscream and Soundwave

Transformers One!Starscream/Soundwave x Cybertronian!GN!Reader(Bit of Megatronus and Sentinel x Reader

Solars Indie Series

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight

Introduction Indie Series

Content: 16+

TW/Tags: mild cussing, training sessions, Sentinel has a bad mindset, Starscream trying to make moves, fails of course, Soundwave is actually trying to keep things appropriate….in his own way at least through training of course, reader is done with sentinels shit

(Like last time no smut but there is angst in this one. I wrote the fight scenes the best I can hopefully it isn’t too confusing)

The next morning. After your small visit with Megatronus the night before. To stay you might soon gain eye bags if this keeps up would be an understatement.

You made your way into the training tower before a meeting with Soundwaves team about the next possible battle.

Taking place later tonight as he always kept these sort of meetings more organized more then Starscream would. Shockwave alongside the same as Soundwave.

As you past by many halls you descided to pass the lunch room. Making your way to your usual training room. Luckily Starscream was in a different meeting at the moments.

And so you got to work with your training. It’s time you continue by yourself now. You pulled out your swords as you looked at your reflection on them.

The scar still as visible as it will be…….so forth….You’re so tired….

You began doing some spinning moves. Your movements fluid and fast. Almost as if gravity was nothing showing your complete controle. Some moves include spinning your swords and you moved yourself.

Tossing your swords mid air as make a finishing blow on a dummy and catching your swords with perfection. Well almost in your opinion. You even stared to think about what Megatronus told you last night before departing as ou still kept your focus.

-Flashback-

“I’m afraid our courtship will have to pause for tomorrow sweetspark. I and a few of the other primes will be patrolling on the surface all day due to the other seekers coming from their shift and telling of Quintissons activity.”

He spoke to you in his room.

”So I wont be able to see you tomorrow?” You gently held his larger cervo as you looked up at him.

“Yes…Will you be alright while I’m away?” He looked down at you as he kneeled down. His optics soft towards you. You nodded and softly sighed as you pulled his cervo a bit closer to you. “I shall wait and I’ll be fine Megatronus…”

You gave him an encouraging nod as you sighed and looked out the window. “I shall take you out like last time.” And so he did.

-End Of Flashback-

As you conintue, many hours having gone by and is already past noon. You don’t hear the doors openeing over your grunts as you make one large finishing move and land on your knee and pede. (I was watching Star Wars while writing this lol).

Once you stood up. Noticing your wrist hurting a little. You must’ve pulled something well making a certain move. You let out a sigh as you close your optics. But at the corner of your optic you thought you saw something. And so when you glanced behind you.

Seeing Soundwave standing with his cervos behind his bac…Uh oh. That isnt good.

You also took note he didn’t have any cassettes in his chest as he usually does. You’d then put your swords back into your sword handles on each side of your hip as you faced him as you then spoke.

“Soundwave. What brings you here sir?”

He stays still for a moment before speaking as he walked closer to you. Now his frame a little closer to yours as he looked down at you. “Have you eaten. Y/N?”

Crap-

“Of course Soundwave. Have you?” You lied through your teeth. Hoping he doesn’t use his waves to sense that you’re lying. Luckily he doesn’t seem to try using it as he lifts his head and looked around.

“I have. I and the Cassettes have finished our meals and they’re currently helping Shockwave with his experients for a stronger weapon as per usual.”

His cervos left from behind his back to rest on his sides as he looked back down at you. You just nod and bow your head. “I have been training for hours. I should go for some lunch after our meeting in an hour?”

You past him about to leave until his cervo grabbed your arm. Making you stop as you looked at him. “Before our meeting….How a bit of training?”

His helm tilting a bit as he glanced at you under his visors. You only nod as you glanced at him as well.

———————————————————————————

You then put your swords down before returning to your spot. Placing your pede back as he does the same. You’d then put your guard up, well more. As he then soon attacked. Laying in the first punch against you.

Causing you to move your upper body back to dodge the attack. Then in a fast movement with his cervo still close to you. You grabbed his arm with both cervos as your chest was close to his cervo for a second. You’d then turn.

His frame behind yours but your arms moving along as his arm was still in the same place for a whole second.

Then pushing his arm against your shoulder, you lifted him up using your body force as he’s lifted into the air.

But he was stronger. Being quick to move midair. Moving his legs forward to land on the floor before him as his arm turned (I mean they are robots.) the cervo grabbing an arm as his other cervo comes and grabs your other arm.

He pulls you every close by your arms, your frame fully against his as your legs past his hips for a moment.

He then roughly pushes you into the floor. Creating a very heavy pressure into and against your back strut. Only for your legs to soon both kick him up over you making him fall to his back.

You were fast to use your strength to lift your upper body up by kicking against the floor. Soon standing on your cervos.

You leg then going down fast to kick him down deeper into the floor. But he too was fast you turn and roll to his stomach as use his arms to support him. Even faster on his knee and grabbed your leg. Pulling you closer and once your close he punches your stomach down. Causing you to groan.

He’d then grab at the top of your chest plate as he soon is on his pedes and lifted you up. His cervo only letting go for a moment as his kicked you further back. Although you fell on your bac flying back a bit, you’d soon end up pushing back so you’re on your cervos and back on your pedes.

Facing Soundwave as he ran at you with his movements show determination. You’d soon grab his wrists. Lifting your leg showing your flexibility.

Your pede kicking him in the chin. Whe he was back for a moment. you grabbed his shoulders and hit your helm against his as he opened his mouth mask. He groaned as he showed a bit of a angry expression just by his intake and dermas.

You’d then throw a few punches and blows against his frame even as he tried to block a few. You both were going to be here for a good while.

You both continued for a good while. A Long while. You took note he avoided your face as you kept going toawrds his waits and shoulders. Both of you putting in pretty good hits into eachother. You both will defiently be sore in the morning.

The other seekers are either at home until the meeting or the others are already in a meeting with either Shockwave or Starscream.

You both continued until Rumble and Frenzy came in. Speaking as they walk in on you two still training.

He was able to pin you down against him. His back against the floor as he laid with his legs around your waist. His arm over your neck keeps you locked against him as your legs squirmed around to try to get away.

His other arm around your toros above keeps your arms stuck to your side. You struggled as you tried to break free from his grasp. You try your best to get out.

But your were so out of stamina and against your better judgement. “I yield.”

Soundwave then lets you go. Rumble and Frenzy standing there by the door. frenzy with his cervo on his hip and Rumble sighing as they waited.

You were able to get up without pressing against him. He soon sits up and looks at the two minicons. “Time.”

”Just 20 minutes until the next meeting Soundwave.” Rumble said as he stays in one spot. Frenzy went to your swords to look at them. You’d hold the side of your waist as you stood up. Soundwave standing up as well as his cervo gently held his shoulder.

He then looked at you as he spoke. His mouth mask closed once more.

“Now we will commence with our meeting for the day. Will you be able to keep posture for another hour?”

He gestured to you as Rumble gently pulled Frenzy from your swords and held frenzys hand as the two looked at you bot.

You gave him a nod still standing straighter. “I’ll be fine Soundwave.” He then nodded and started walking to the door. Now closer to Frenzy and Rumble as they both looked up at him. “See you in 10.”

He walks out as the two waved to you as they both left as well. You waving back saying your good byes for now. As you stand there, you looked down. Training with him was…certainly interesting. You can admit that at least. As you thought more and more. He was…a bit more gentle with you than the last time you fought him even before.

Something Starscream did just yesterday….You shake your head. You cant be thinking of these things with the two. You are being courted by one of the Primes.

One of the most highest honors someone could ever have. You cant let old feelings start rushing out.

You walked to your swords. Picking them up and lookin at your reflection in them once more as you narrowed your optics. You have a new duty with your work.

You cant be waiting for anyone else but the one you have chosen…….chosen first who is Megatronus…Right?

——————————————————————————-

As you made your way to the meeting room in the higher levels of the building. Parts of your body was a bit in pain. But not distracting enough for you to speak and walk as you past a few guards who are leaving from the latest meeting that ended.

As you made it to the room Soundwave was already there.

He was getting a presentation ready for the meeting with the help of Laserbeak, Rumble, and Frenzy. Ravage was already in Soundwaves chair waiting as her pas rested on the table.

You’d then took a seat close to Soundwaves by just a couple seats. Something gestured by Ravage when she noticed you come in.

As you sat down. Slowly until the minutes got closer to the meeting more and more guards came in. Eventually Starscream came in and took a seat next to you.

Sitting closer to where ravage was as he had his usual smirk on his dermas.

As you both sat down you noticed by the corner of your eye that Starscream was glancing down at you as he rested one cervo on the table. And the other was on his thigh.

The other being the one closest to you. And just like that…The meeting has started.

As Soundwave spoke and sat in his chair with ravage on his lap like a kitten. Everyone listened with purpose. Giving him their full attention. You included as he goes over his plan for a possible next battle to fight the Quintessons.

Both of your cervos on your lap as your optics stared at Soundwave. His helm turning every now and then as he spoke.

Eventualy the meeting soon lasts over an hour. You can hear Starscream silently make a sound close to a huff as he looked over some data pads he had in front of him. His red optics narrowed as he had a frown on his dermas.

You you continue to look at Soundwave. You’d then feel a cervo on top of your cervo, it being a bit larger then yours. When you glanced down. Not moving your helm much. You soon realized it’s Starscreams. When you looked at him he was staring down at you. A little smirk at the corner at his lips as he then looked back down at the data pad.

You’d just look back at Soundwave. Not knowing that he noticed the moment.

Starscreams cervo stays there for a good amount of time. Gently squeezing every now and then..Is this is way of flirting???

It stays like this for a good while until it’s been almost 2 hours. The meeting was finally over. Everyone making a vote on weapons and such as so forth. From there everyone stands up. You included. You could hear a faint huff as Starscream was fast to move his cervo from yours as he looked at a few other data pads. You got up and walked out.

Only now realizing you haven’t eaten lunch.

You’d continue you path to the lunch room as the rest went home and other guarded the tower. You’d make it to the room and grab some lunch. That’s when Starscream comes in. He’d walk in and sit next to you as you ate some energon.

Being quiet for a moment before speaking.

“You know. I would appreciate it you were to return my affections…..Sweetspark…”

You side eye him as you ate your energon before speaking. “Thought you said to wait…right?” Starscream scoffed.

”Doesn’t mean I cant show you my affections sweetspark.” His digits gently holding your chin to make you look at him.

“Starscream-“

”I could care less of what Soundwave said. I make choices based off my Own. Understood?” You have stood up as you stared down at Starscream. You’d then start taking steps to the door until Starscream stood up grabbing your cervo. “You really wish to try this dance….Y/N?”

His words were a bit sinister. “Yes.”

You pulled your cervo away and face him. “Focus on being a superior and I’ll go do my job.” You soon walk away, he just watches you as you opened the door and then closed it being you. Wouldn’t be any better if you were to slam the door.

———————————————————————————

You continue to walk in the halls. Making your way to the front doors being done today. But as soon as you got past one of the doors to a cleaning closet. Frenzy has pulled you in….He a strong bot.

He’d then give you a data pad. “Soundwave said to meet him in the meeting room.” He then runs off with his little legs.

You’d sigh and make your way to the meeting room. From there as ou walked into the room. Sentinel was in there with him. The two seemed to be speaking to each other about the primes and such. When Soundwave noticed you were there. He nodded to Sentinel. Him doing the same as Soundwave walks past you.

You’d walk closer as Sentinel start down at Soundwaves spot. “YN, please. Sit.”

And so you do. When you first saw him you immediately remembered yesterday. When he pulled you into a kiss before Zeta opened his door….

What is he up to?

”I’m sure you’ve been wondering about yesterday and the meaning of me giving you that……Special kiss? Well you see my dear.” For a moment fore you just gave him a blank expression until his cervo held your chin as he just stared down at you.

”I believe it’s time Zeta and the other primes shouldn’t be so calm to believe that they’re superior to descide who thay may take as a Conjunx….” His helm leaning closer to yours as he spoke once more in a whisper.

“Soundly you agree with your special partner….say…Megatronus?..”

Your optics widened. “How.” Your voice was low and is more in a whisper.

”You two aren’t exactly as sneaky as you both like to believe to be. He said in his casual tone with a grin on his smile. Leaning back a sits straight on the chair. Both of his arms on the arms of the chair. His helm only barely turned looking towards you as only his optics look toawrds you.

”You aren’t the only one being used.” You head tilted up for only a moment.

”Zeta. The big man himself.” His cervos then gestured to himself as he grinned. “Trying to court me of all bots.” He chuckled. But that smile soon gone as he looked down.

”That kiss is to teach him a lession. Good thing I timed that perfectly…At first I thought why not you know. Cause well- why not?” He spoke as he then stood up and walked slowly to behind your chair. “But when I found out that giant Brute was keeping a special little bot. You. Courting you and all. Oh boy…did that open my eyes.”

He sets his cervos on your shoulders as you glanced behind you a bit.

”Though I wont lie. I can see why he’s so intrigued by you…” He’d then lean his held down next to you. Your optics side eyeing you as he spoke once more. In a whisper again.

”Tell me. Do you enjoy being used?”

You tried to find the words. Not sure what you can say right or what will be wrong. So..you only looked down as the table as his stays there.

Your intake opening a little bit before closing a few times. Sentinels optics staring down at you. Going from looking at your dermas to back to your optics. You didn’t look at him.

He had a frown on his dermas as he stands straight again. “After the War. We will handle this…and.” He had grabbed your cervos. Gently pulling you up to stand as he’s now in front of you.

“We shall no longer be used for such power. If you help me against the primes. I can promise you a better life. By my side.” His cervos now on your waist. He smiled down at you as you placed your cervos on his arms as you felt his chest against his.

”Sentinel-”

“Just give it some time. My door is always open once you accept my offer.”

Those last words he said with a bit more purpose. His cervo is then at your chin. His digits gently holding it. “I shall be waiting so patiently for you…Sweetspark.” You’d just stare at him. Your face unsure as he stared down with blue optics.

One of his cervos then grabbing yours and kissed the back of your cervo. His optics never leaving yours.

He’d then let out a small chuckle and finally let you go. “Just remember which Sid you are one Sweetspark. Because I’m not a bot.” He leaned close. “Who gives second chances…” You both stared at each other. Both expressionless as your optics stare narrowed. “…You’re dismissed.”

Oh man this one made me nervous but I think I was able to nail it with writing for Soundwave, Starscream, and a bit of Sentinel. Don’t worry Megatronus will be back for the next chapter. And Shockwave will have a bit more of a spotlight for the intertest with the reader. The reader is really going through it. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and I’ll see you all in the next chapter!